#so many way to spell this mans name and only one is correct

[parasocialcelebritycrush]

hes like a little paper doll and i get to dress him how i want 

#the spot atsv #the spot spiderverse #the spot #the spot across the spiderverse #jonathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn #jonathon ohnn #the spot fanart #so many way to spell this mans name and only one is correct #just covering all bases #no one could guess the amount of procrastination this took #across the spiderverse #click for better resolution #atsv fanart

[genoskissors]

Guide to Understanding Genocider’s Many Names

Genocide Jack has many names and it can be hard to understand why so many people use different ones or spell them differently, so I attempted to make a guide that is as comprehensible as possible.

Something to know before hand

Kanji: More complicated, such as 翔

Hiragana: Simple and smooth, such as しょう

Katakana: Simple and sharp, such as ショウ

Let’s get the “Genocide” part out of the way

This part of her name is written in katakana, (ジェノサイダー) and you’ll notice the line at the end. This means the sound is extended, so instead of “da” it’s “dā”. Japanese doesn’t have an “er” so this is used instead, since they sound similar. Her official title is Genocider. The localization simply switched this is be Genocide. I’m not sure why, maybe since Genocider isn’t actually a word, but that’s just my best guess.

Syo VS Sho

Here’s where it get complicated.

In order to make sounds like “kyo”, “bya”, or “ju”, two hiragana are need. First, a character ending in i, such as ki, bi, or ji, characters pronounced like ka or bu cannot be used. Second, one of the three y’s (ya, yo, or yu) in a smaller form.

The character “ki” (き), combined with “yo” (よ), would make “kiyo”. But if the “yo” is written smaller (よ→ょ) then the “i” from the first hiragana is replaced by it. So since きよ is Kiyo, きょ is Kyo. Same for “bya”. びや is Biya, so びゃ is Bya.

Now, we have our “exceptions”, shi (し) and ji (じ). You’ll notice they look very similar, which is why they are both “exceptions”. For “ji” (じ) and “yu”, (ゆ) rather than jyu it’s just ju (じゅ). It’s different since in the case of kyo and ko, it’s a whole other sound, but jyu and ju are pronounced the same, so the y isn’t needed.

But in all my examples, you’ll notice the first hiragana is two letters, which is why it gets tricky for “shi”. Like jyu, shyo is unnecessary, however, h and y are pronounced the same here, so you can remove either one and get the same sound.

Quick Note: I used “kyo”, “bya”, and “ju” as examples since there are Danganronpa characters with those in their names, but, just to clarify, they aren’t the only combinations possible.

The reason I put exceptions in quotes is because this is romanization, there is no rule book saying you must write it this way. While Sho is the most common way to write this, it doesn’t mean Syo is wrong. In fact, the games themselves use this.

However, they also use Sho.

So, really, both are correct.

Syou VS Syo / Shou Vs Sho

> I’ll be calling her Sho/Shou here for convenience.

翔 should be spelt with a “u”, since it’s しょ“sho” then う “u”, so “shou”. Still, a lot of times the u is excluded because it doesn’t sound too different in English. English speakers pronounce “Shuuichi” and “Shuichi” the same, so I suppose the u is unnecessary. You’ll find this is common in a lot of different translations. Even Japanese media that use the alphabet, like the pictures above, will sometimes leave out the u, if following an o or another u.

Jack & Jill

These are just the titles that are strictly English. Since the whole thing about Syo in the beginning was that she’s a serial killer, society will assume it’s a man, so the public will give her a masculine name. In English, people will hear Sho and see it’s foreign, so there’s no gender association. I think it was changed that way so we’d see it as masculine. While I think they should’ve kept her Japanese name like everyone else in the game, I cannot deny how easily Genocide Jack rolls off the tongue.

Overall

All the names work, use whatever you want.

I hope this made sense to at least one person. If it doesn’t, feel free to ask for further clarification!

#danganronpa #genocide jack #genocider syo #genocide jill #genocider sho #praying I didn’t misspell anything

[ur-dad-satan]

Wally Darling is talking to US (WH update)

I saw a few people talking about the Welcome Home update and so far all the posts I've seen keep forgetting that Wally's eyes are on the site if you zoom out. Wally's eyes aren't the only thing there as of this update. This may have some spoilers so feel free to ignore this because I'm talking about what's there and what I think it means.

Now, of course there's the five commands we got around the website before this update. The Write hello, write ok, Move Barnaby, turn the Playfellow Exhibition upside down, and the reverse this image of Sally to be specific. All five of those commands got responses from someone within the website or even someone in Welcome Home. I saw someone say that it's Wally making these changes, and I honestly agree. The "Write hello" is met with red writing in Wally's handwriting.

Now, we know for a fact that this is Wally's handwriting because of the bottom of the Guestbook where everyone signed their name. This is the same handwriting as "Wally" and "Home" in the guestbook.

All of their handwriting is so distinct and only Wally's and Home's names are written in a) the same font and b) the same smiley/accent. Wally is talking to us and/or the WHRP team.

The Write ok is also completely wonky. We all assumed that meant add ok to the URL or just type ok and something would happen; however, the sticker page got completely rearranged. It's a complete mess and the character stickers spell out OK with a smiley face in the "O". Directly under "Neighbors" is Wally's little sticker gif thing and a little house has been constructed around the right eye and one around a Home and a Wally sticker.

It's also worth mentioning that the home sticker in the "welcome home house" is the only Home sticker on the page anymore. I haven't mentioned that the new little drawings that Wally's done have messages when you hover over them. This one in particular says "I did not write this. I did something else. I know who these neighbors are. Do you like them too?" I can't tell if that's Wally trying to come through or something/someone else.

When it comes to the Move Barnaby command, just a glance will show that Barn's name isn't there with Wally's and Howdy's. Barnaby's name is literally moved off of the page with a small drawing of the blue man himself with the message "Do you like Barnaby here?" The silly little guy is showing that he's answering whoever is trying to talk to him.

Barn was physically moved and then asked whether or not it was done correctly. That's also the only place he was moved from on the entire transcripts page.

The playfellow Exhibition page also had a little message saying to turn it upside down. Now anywhere on the page it says, "The Playfellow Exhibition" or even "The Playfellow Workshop" those words are upside down. There's also a drawing of a Christmas tree with an eye on it near the top.

When you hover over the drawing, it says "I did not know what to do. I think I am correct. Is it Homewarming where you are? Happy Homewarming." First of all, what is Homewarming? Is that supposed to be like a housewarming or a Neighborhood holiday or something like that? Also, what is the little guy confused about? Why would he be wrong when the instruction is so clear?

Lastly, the reverse this image of Sally thing is possibly the most bizarre thing about the new update. Of course, the command says to reverse the image so many people just flipped the picture horizontally. This is what we expected but this is what we got.

We got the literal BACK of the picture. You can still see Sally's hand and her shoes, but this shouldn't be possible. How can we see the back of the curtain when it's not a 3D picture. This one in particular leaves me with a bunch of questions and not really any theories. What does this mean for the sake of the website and therefore Wally and the other neighbors? Is Wally the only one who can communicate this way or even trying to? Are the others going to be able to communicate with us and the WHRP team?

In all seriousness, this is so cool and turning out so good! I'm really invested and so proud of Clown and all the voice actors. I can't wait to see where this goes from here and what the next update brings. <3

#welcome home #welcome home update #what is going on here #welcome home arg

[romeulusroy]

Parting Pt. 1 (Roy!Sibling x Kendall Roy)

Character/s: Kendall, Logan, fake husband, fake baby lol

Word Count: 2,394

Requested: i have been obsessed with your baby!roy fics recently they are so so good! can you please write something to do with the subs & then being super protective over baby!roy (specifically kendall) please. if not it is all good, thank you so much 🫶🫶 - anon

Inspired By: Family Jewels by Marina

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: In this fic you have a fake family, I just wanted to make that clear since I named a fake baby lol. It was getting too confusing without names lol. I love protective Kendall so much!!! I hope you like it my loves! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Parting Pt. 2 (Roy!Sibling x Kendall Roy)

Succession Masterlist

He used to smell like laundry detergent. The sweet kind that reminded you of feeling clean, feeling safe. Even when he got his suits pressed, that scent lingered. It wasn’t his cologne or his soap, you learned over the years, it was just him. His body, his skin and hair. You liked when you came back with his scent, like it was choosing you, like you were worthy of it, of him. You thought it was a sign that somehow the universe was telling you that this man, this man who smelled of fresh sheets and warm sweaters, would offer you salvation. He would offer a home you had never had before, the kind that you feared you never would have, one you thought you were undeserving of. One of warmth and safety and stability. It sunk into your sheets, in his pillow. It lingers in every room he resides in, even if only for a moment. You used to love it. You used to follow it, searching the many rooms, trying to find him. You used to wish your whole house smelled like that, reflected that, so that anyone who stepped in would feel how you felt. No one seemed to notice though. Only you. Now you wonder if you made it all up, if you were under some kind of spell. Now you roll away from him in your bed, the scent too much, too strong. Suffocating. You take your pillow and a blanket and go to your son's room, choosing to sleep on his floor instead of your bed. You’re not sure when it started, when you’d shut the bedroom door and listen to his soft breathing, when you started slipping away. Sometime after his glass narrowly missed your head. Before you stopped speaking altogether. Somewhere in the middle, between all that, you decided that scent, the lavender, the cotton, somewhere in between then you decided you didn’t want to smell like that anymore.

You never wanted to smell it again. 

The ride over feels excruciating. You sit in the back, beside your son, distracting him with toys, stuffed animals and cars. Almost three, he babbles to you, pointing out the other cars in the heavy traffic, the strangers on the sidewalk. He looks like you, thankfully. He has your eyes, your nose and hair. You hope he doesn’t share his temper, his paranoia, his moodiness. He kicks his feet, growing restless. Up front your husband bangs the steering wheel, equally irritable, eyeing you from the mirror, talking straight ahead. Don’t pull any shit, you hear me? Don’t be rude. You don’t say anything, just kiss his cheeks with his teddy bear, hearing that laugh that melts your heart. High, from the belly. He laughs until he can’t breathe. They’re my family, you want to correct, but you bite your tongue. One night, that’s all. All you have to do is get through one night. You move quickly, unbuckling yourself, then Liam. You hold him close, thanking the driver for parking. Your husband steps out, barking orders, before meeting you on the curb. He doesn’t initiate contact, not anymore. He doesn’t even try with Liam, you won’t let him. Not since that night. He hasn’t been drunk since, but you don’t care. He will not lay a hand on your baby. The doorman greets you warmly despite the cold radiating off him. All the way up you’re surrounded by silence. When you step out of the elevator you’re greeted with noise. Your brothers and sister, niece and nephew, in-laws, as well as the regular work associates, everyone’s here, everyone’s busy. It sounds like it did when you were growing up, so unlike your own quiet home. He greets Marcia with a hug and a kiss while you stray, peeking into the living room. Rava and the kids, Shiv, Tom, Rome. They all showed. Just seeing their faces makes you feel better, more like yourself than you’ve felt in weeks. You greet Marcia, asking how your father is. In one of his moods, she shrugs. She holds Liam, spinning him around. You linger, not wanting her to hand him off to him. You should know better, though. He leaves you for Frank and Karl, talking to them like there’s nothing wrong. He’d leave you both for dead if it meant getting an inch up the corporate ladder. 

Your siblings all give you big hugs. You’re happy to see them. They stay the same, they always have. Shiv makes a remark about Marcia you can’t help but smile at. Connor is a tad bit oblivious, asking how your husband is doing as if he’s not in the room. Good, Con. He’s good. Rome is ready to drink the night away, pointing out how tired you look. Haven’t been sleeping well, you smile, unphased. Those hardwood floors aren’t exactly the most comfortable, you want to joke, but stop yourself. You toss and turn, checking on Liam every time you wake up, every time he stirs. A few times he crawled into your arms, dragging along his Spiderman blanket, his small body emitting so much heat, so much warmth. That is when you sleep the best. Only Kendall, your second biggest brother, notices something is off. You’re not looking at him, you can’t stand to, you weren’t even holding his hand or anything. You looked like strangers when you walked in. And you do look tired, exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept since he’d last seen you. He doesn’t say anything there, now, but he makes a mental note to. You talk with Rava, who wants to eat Liam up, and the kids, who are always a delight. You keep tabs on how many drinks your father pours your husband. Finally, you go over to Logan, who welcomes you with open arms. There you are, he greets, buttered up by your husband's ass-kissing. Here I am, you laugh. It takes everything out of you to be cheery, to be upbeat. You didn’t want to come, but you hadn’t gone to the last family dinner and he still believed in keeping up the facade. Look how big you are, William. You cringe. Named after your husband's father, you always hated the name, insisting he go by his nickname. Almost everyone in the family called him Liam, but your father was a traditionalist. No grandson of his would go by a nickname. Your son buries his face into your neck, suddenly shy. You’re not listening to anything he says, about work, Gojo, Matsson, Mencken. All the names start to sound the same. You’re too focused on what he has to say, what web of lies he’s stringing. Came down with the flu, poor thing. Luckily they didn’t get the baby sick. They’re feeling much better, though. We’re both so glad to be here. . . Tuning in and out of conversation until you can’t stand it any longer. You excuse yourself, needing air. 

You were young when you got together, teenagers. He was the son of one of your fathers many associates. Deeming him worthy enough to date you, the pair set you up per his insistence. You thought he was nice, kind, smart, like them all. Like the rest. He wasn’t anything special, anyone special. But he liked you and that was enough for them. Over time, over the years, you found things to like and eventually love. His scent, but also how respectful he was to your father and mother, how he got along with your siblings, how driven he was. You’d noticed early on he was eager to anger, that everyone was against him. You thought, naively, he’d grow out of it, he’d mature. You should have known a man like that doesn’t change. Just look at your father. Still, you stayed with him. What else were you supposed to do? Your father believed he’d created the perfect match, that you would eventually marry. And you would. Just old enough to legally drink, he popped the question over champagne and an expensive ring. You couldn’t say no. Years you spent together. Breaking it off wasn’t an option. You’d get a fancy apartment with too many rooms and you’d have Liam, the catalyst, you think, to your many fights, to the rift. It was bound to happen eventually. You wanted a big family, like your own. He wanted one. Two, if the first was a girl. You have one. And he is the love of your life. You would do anything for him. He just wanted a legacy, an heir, to share a scotch with him on his eighteenth birthday. Before then, he preferred to be strangers. You couldn’t let that happen. You would die before it did, before he acted that way with him. You? You got yourself into this mess, you never disobeyed him, you never resisted, but Liam didn’t deserve that, he didn’t ask for it, he’d simply been born into it. You couldn’t let the cycle repeat. You just couldn’t. 

Your hands hang over the banister, the balcony's edge. The noise of the traffic, the horns, people yelling, it wasn’t any more comforting than the noise inside, but at least it wasn’t him. You’d handed Liam off to Willa with clear, strict instructions. Do not let him near you, either of you. If he tries anything, find me. Willa nodded, cautious, her hand cradling his head. She’d protect him. She’d protect you, keeping whatever you say between you. You watched her and Connor play peek-a-boo and talk to him, pointing out family members. He smiled brightly, even giggling. He’s in good hands. You’re shivering, but you don’t move. It’s better out here. It feels safer out here. Your family, your father especially, love him. Logan sees himself in your husband, that is enough to want to run and never stop. After a few minutes, the door slides open. You jump, expecting something awful. Expecting meanness. What the fuck are you doing? Where’s Liam? You can’t act normal for a few hours, is it too fucking hard. Jesus y/n. . . Instead you feel something over your shoulders: a suit jacket. Kendall's. He holds out a glass to you, wine probably. You only take a sip, needing to be sober, alert. You need to be ready. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just stands beside you. And then: How come you’re not sleeping? His tone is genuine, dipped in worry. You thought you’d played it off well, but he had second thoughts. The bags under your eyes resemble bruises. Hollow. You’re not sure what to say, if you should lie or tell the truth. You wait a moment, wishing you’d just stayed inside. I, uh, I’ve been sleeping on Liam's floor. Before you can stop, your words come up, out, leaving you clutching the banister. I’m leaving him. I, I don’t know when, but soon. I should have done it a long time ago, but I was scared. You know how Dad loves him. It’s a deafening silence, your brother taking it all in. He lets out a sigh. In anger? In relief? You can’t tell. Is he hurting you? Is he hurting- No. You’re quick to say. Do you need a lawyer? The question comes out so earnestly, you almost laugh. Not mine, but, but Rava has a good one. A really good one. You nod. Yes, yes you do. Want me to kill him for you? Startled, you look up in his eyes, deep brown. They look so sad, so grown. Can you make it look like an accident? You smile, knowing you shouldn’t. Anything for you. You lean into him, wishing you could freeze time. So many things go unsaid. How much you appreciate him, how thankful you are that he picked up on something no one else had. He’s always been there for you, but you’ve felt isolated since your marriage. This is your family, not his. He could co-op them however he liked, you were Roy. You were, not him. You still are. 

Kendalls hand never leaves your back as you walk in together. Willa looks at you, and you nod, when Kendall takes Liam, giving you a break. He sits beside you at dinner, him and Rava having a conversation with nothing but their eyes. In the end, she seems to understand. He puts a barrier between the two of you, one your husband starts to notice, starts to get irritated by. He tries to put his arm around you, but Kendall intervenes. Coming back from the bathroom, you watch your brother lean over your chair to his brother-in-law, where he says something you can’t hear, but can read, covering Liam’s ears. Go fuck yourself. As you sit, they resume like nothing happened. Your husband looks stunned but only for a moment. He never tries to touch you again, using all his attention at the opposing end of the table. You’re trying not to grin.

When it’s time to go, Kendall hugs you last, slipping a card into your jacket pocket. You don’t have to read it to know it’s the lawyer, one of the best in the business. He doesn’t want to let go, he can’t for a few seconds. He doesn’t want to let you go home with him. You’ve already called a driver, your husband unsteady on his feet, Liam asleep on your shoulder. It’ll be okay, you whisper, I'll be okay. He can’t say anything, nothing comes to mind, just begging, pleading, cursing. He wants you and your son to stay with him, Shiv, Con, even Rome. Anyone else, anywhere else, but home. He wants you safe, the both of you, far from that prick. He never liked him, but now he loathed him. You manage a smile, a shaky one, before letting go. Your husband leans on to you, forgetting the rules. You offer your big brother one last wave before the doors close. He doesn’t know it, and neither will you, but it’s the last time you see him for a long time, all of them. Did he do the right thing? Did he do enough? He resists the urge to pry the doors open, to call after you, a horrible feeling washing over him. Something terrible is going to happen, he fears, and he has no one to blame but himself. . .

#requested #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #succession fic #kendall roy fic #writing

[outofcontextbokumono]

In your Allen post you mentioned Natsume is notorious for bad translations. That's super interesting, I had no idea! Is it more of spelling error stuff or just straight up mistranslations?

first of all great question anon!! it's kind of a mix of both, and it varies from game to game. most natsume dialogue just generally reads very clunky and robotic in the english versions, especially when compared to the newer games, where everyone has their own unique way of speaking, and you can usually tell who's talking just based on their mannerisms.

there's more general info on this topic + natsume's involvement with marvelous games in my masterpost here.

xseed's newer games obviously aren't immune to forgetting a few punctuation marks here and there, but natsume's was bad. like, "something about the games just feel Off and uncanny and there's no other way to explain it" bad.

i'm pretty sure it's just because the translators weren't native english speakers, so everything is translated super literally, but if you are one yourself it becomes blatantly obvious simply by looking at the dialogue for more than 5 minutes. this ranges anywhere from minor miswordings to lines that just don't make any sense at all no matter how many times you read them.

and then there's stuff that's so messed up we don't even KNOW how it got there. like some of this shit i would 100% believe you if you just said the game got corrupted because if it isn't that then i can only assume the employees did a large dose of crack cocaine before translating these games. i'm talking like... entire lines that didn't even get translated. text so butchered its straight up unreadable. that one time they misspelled their own NAME in the startup screen. TWICE.

and, last but not least, probably one of my all time favorite errors in a natsume game but one i'll never be able to post here because it's funny purely in context- and it is the singular line in harvest moon: friends of mineral town where the priest, carter, just speaks to you in fucking German

this. this is the error i don't have even the SLIGHTEST explanation for. and, correct me if i'm wrong, but i'm 99.9% sure nobody else does either.

this was....just one line. just the one line of dialogue. where he speaks german. in a japanese farming game that was being localized into english.

at least with the untranslated kanji you have some general sense of how that happened. like, yeah, okay, they just missed a line, whatever. but this isn't even remotely close to the same situation. there should be NO german in this equation whatsoever. it's like if you did 2 + 2 and somehow got 17. and nobody looked over your paper and went, "hey, that doesn't look quite right, man, maybe you should fix that", so you just turned it in and for some reason not even the TEACHER questioned it, they gave you a full grade and a gold star and put your paper on the whiteboard clear as day for all your classmates to see. that's what this feels like.

I. do not think the natsume employees are okay can someone check on them for me

#bokumono #bokujou monogatari #mod speaks #harvest moon #story of seasons #hmanb #harvest moon a new beginning #hm fomt #harvest moon fomt #harvest moon anb #harvest moon friends of mineral town

[selarina]

TW mention of suicide, mention of fire, emotional distress

Even though it's in the middle of a frigid winter, Superhero!Satoru Gojo soars across the sky, slicing through relentless winds that assaults his face.

Below him, the citizens of this quaint town looked upon the God of blue streaks hurtling himself across the sky. There was a manic sense of urgency to his flight that was palpable to even the most cursory of onlookers.

They were confounded though, no one could make sense of this. Why would someone akin to Superman himself deign to come all the way down to overlook some measly little town? Should he not be in distant galaxies fighting aliens and other fiends alike?

But he soared on, until he finally stopped — midway in the air, his eyes zeroed in on the burning house below him. And then, in one swift descent, it was all over in less than five seconds.

You couldn’t even comprehend what just happened. One second you were seeing flames, sweating and screaming. In the next, you found yourself perched upon a cold park bench, your world tilting at an unsettling angle.

You don’t make sense of anything, and for awhile you just sit there in silence.

Your gaze remains set upon the mosaic of green tiles at your feet, your eyes fixed like they're the most interesting piece of art you’ve ever come to lay your eyes on.

“Are you okay?” The voice comes from beside you.

Your lips remained unresponsive, as you continued to study the tiles. And then you turn after what seems like after hours, you turn and smile. “I’m fine,” you reply.

“It’s okay to not be okay you know,” the superhero murmurs. His voice comes out low and unfamiliar yet somehow comforting all the same.

Your eyes studied the man. He's the one they call the Honoured One, or was it the Blue Phantom? There's too many superheroes to keep up with, but you know of him. You once heard that to some he's just — God.

You’re not joking when you say this, you have actually heard of rumours; there were those who had birthed entire religions, all in his name.

"No," you replied. "Truly, I should be fine. I uh— I lived in the city so this is not that scary," you chuckle feebly. "Kinda expected it to happen to me in the city at some point if I’m being honest."

You pause again, your breath quivering with the weight of unshed tears. "This is just stupid," you choked out between sobs. "But to think that this would happen on my very first day back in my hometown. It’s all so stupid and scary—"

He stares at you, or at least you think he does. He’s wearing a blindfold, fashioned through a sheen white cloth wrapped tightly around his eyes.

“I thought I’d be fine dying, but I guess not," you say when he doesn't respond again.

“You were fine dying?” he asks softly, his tone steeped in incredulity. You are fairly young after all, a whole life to live. Or at the very least, only half a life — you don’t really plan on living until you’re 100 and such.

“Um— not that I’m suicidal or anything," you hasten to correct my previous statement, in case he misunderstood. "I thought I would be fine dying, having lived a decent life and all but I guess I still have some regrets,” you say.

You’re not sure what was compelled you to unburden your soul to the man who had just saved you but the spell was broken now and suddenly you felt like a burden.

You rose to your feet, feeling light and hungry all of a sudden. You turn back to the man. “Thank you for saving my life. I’ll never forget it.”

He stands up with you, as he meets your extended hand in a hand shake, before he pulls you gently into a hug, you stay there snug against the warmth of his body for barely a few seconds before he pulls away.

“Thought you’d need it and it’s protocol,” he smiles a grin.

You think he may be lying but truly you couldn't care. You met his gaze, with only a hint of disbelief because frankly you've been through so much this week that all of this seems oddly mundane.

"See you then. And thank you, once more.”

As you make your way back to a hotel in the back of a police car, you feel the urge to call someone — after all, you did just almost die.

Despite your recent separation, you retrieved your phone, navigating your way to the list of favourite contacts. Your gaze settles on the contact name: Husband.

You should probably change that soon, but you've thought this numerous times but strangely enough you could never do it. But having almost kissed Death himself today, you change it back to his name.

And then you click away, drafting your message before you click send.

You: hey, it's me. you can come take your stuff if you're free this weekend. take care until then.

You: and let me know if the weekend doesn't work, we'll work out another time, or I can figure out a way to mail them to you instead.

His response was immediate.

Gojo Satoru: I'll be there.

You sighed, sinking back into the rough plastic-like texture of the seat. Your thoughts drift to the visual of the blindfolded phantom from earlier.

You think that despite all the odds, your first day back in town wasn't entirely bad.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #gojo scenario #jjk gojo #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen hurt/comfort

[tdciago]

Fargo: C and Ch

(Originally posted to Reddit on 1/20/24)

I want to point out a couple of significant things that Noah Hawley did with alphabet letters in the finale. You can reject my interpretation of their meaning, but we should at least acknowledge that they were done.

The first is the absence of the letter C, but its repeated use as a sound in a spoken phrase.

The episode title, Bisquik, leaves the letter c out of the brand name, even though we've seen the correct spelling on the box several times during season 5, and the product has been mentioned many times.

Lorraine, in her description of Roy's punishment, mentions that she's helping prisoners in cell blocks D, B, and A, but not C. Once again, the C is missing.

During the scene in Dot's house, the phrase "across the sea" is spoken three times. If we think of sea as c, this phrase becomes part of the motif that highlights the letter c in this episode. We've also had references to "seeing" throughout this season, including eye patches and complete blindness, or lack of seeing/c-ing.

One of the meanings of C is cancer, as in the big C. Roy has said, "Cancer can't survive outside of the body," and Jordan Seymore repeatedly emphasized that he had cancer, and that, "I need this cancer out of me!"

Cigarette smoking is a major cause of cancer, and Lorraine gives Roy a pack of cigarettes with the fictional brand name Original, as in "original sin."

This "gift" can be seen as paying off the Trojan horse idea that was depicted in the shot through the windmill blades, showing two buildings on the ranch configured like a Trojan horse. The blades of the windmill itself look like matches with red tips, and the windmill is a gravesite. We can associate this with the cancer-causing cigarettes accepted by Roy. They are presented as a gift (because he can theoretically use them to bargain away abuse), but they are actually something harmful, just like a Trojan horse.

Munch also mentions being approached by a man with a "wealthy horse" to be given food and two coins. This was also a Trojan horse, because the food was actually sin.

Munch's sins are like a cancer that he can't get out of him.

Now for the second unusual thing with letters in the finale.

In the space of a few minutes, we hear the words chili, cheddar, chopsticks, chocolate, chimpanzees, and choice. That's an odd assortment of words, particularly the decision to include chopsticks and chimpanzees. What's going on with all those ch words?

The letter combination ch is a digraph: "two letters used to represent one sound," from Greek di- "twice" (from PIE root *dwo- "two") + -graph "something written," from Greek graphe "writing," from graphein "to write, express by written characters," earlier "to draw, represent by lines drawn" (see -graphy)."

I've theorized that season 5 is a story being written by Gaear Grimsrud, the kidnapper and killer of Jean Lundegaard in the Fargo movie, and that he was representing himself in the narrative as two characters: Ole Munch and Roy Tillman.

Munch is the pancake lover who just wants some peace and quiet. Roy is the domineering Marlboro Man side of Gaear, who commits ruthless murders.

In the movie, another character says of Gaear, "You know, he looked like the Marlboro Man." She proposes that this may be a subconscious thing, "'cause he smoked a lot of Marlboros." And Noah Hawley described Roy's look as the Marlboro Man.

The purpose of writing this story would be to pay a debt to Jean in the only way possible now, and to gain her forgiveness and hopefully some measure of redemption.

Just as Dot (who represents Jean) gives Munch the biscuit and speaks of forgiveness, the movie theme music kicks in. The victim has forgiven the perpetrator. In the previous episode, the perpetrator literally pulled the victim from the grave, resurrecting her in the form of this fictional character, Dorothy Lyon.

The only thing left now is redemption. So Munch eats the biscuit and is apparently freed from the curse of sin. At the same time, Roy (his other half) is damned to eternal hell for the crimes he has committed.

So there is both acknowledgement of Gaear's crimes, and recognition that they deserve punishment, but also some measure of salvation in the fact that his victim forgives him.

This is my interpretation of the finale. I also believe these events are taking place, within the story, as a bardo in the afterlife, a liminal transition space in which earthly trauma and sins can be worked out before reincarnation, much like Camp Utopia was for the abused women in Linda. As Munch says, "This is the other side."

We've had various discussions before about reincarnation and cycles, and if we look back, there are a lot of hints along the way that could point to smoking and cancer. I think this is what the author is dying from.

However you interpret the finale, we should recognize that Noah Hawley was trying to convey something with his emphasis on C and Ch.

#fargo #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo spoilers #bardo #gaear grimsrud #roy tillman #ole munch #Bisquik

[visd3stele]

Ser Criston Cole dating NSFW alphabet

requested by @ignitedminds27

a/n: my first time writing something like this, i have no idea what i'm doing, so, please have mercy. also, forgive the spelling errors, got a lot on my hands and it's jarring to know this is left unfinished. i will correct it as soon as i can

tw: filth, minors dni!!!

Amor - how romantic is he (in and outside the bedroom)?

This man redifines romance for you. Flower petals' in the bed for your first time together. A room full of candles. He won you over with the sweet charisma he enbodies and didn't dissappoint. In bed, he doesn't lose the cute lover's touch. Always making sure you're feeling good and confortable. Prepping you well and good before even thinking of entering you. He'd urge you to stick by his side afterwards, hugging and caressing your sweaty, sticky body, his touc lulling you to sleep.

Blows - (orals) a fan of giving, receiving or both?

Only if he can't be inside you. Criston likes the feel of your lips around his length, but he much more prefers the pulsing of your walls grasping at his cock. However, when it comes to eating you out, he's like a starved man with a taste for his favorite food for the first time in ages. Licking, sucking, kissing as if his life depends on it.

Cuddles - in favor of, or not?

Totally! Anytime, all the time. Before having sex, passioante kisses and tender touches that soon turn into something more. After a night of love, groggy with morning fog. He's so touchy and clingy after a session he'll beg to stay inside you, hugging you to his chest in a tangle of hot bodies.

Dates - how often? how many? how much effort does he put in them?

Don't get me started... this man insists on making everything the proper way in his courtship. Asking for permission from your parents, walking you home, kissing your hand. But somehow, you two end up in his bed anyway. He's just so cute and sweet and honor-bound you can't help trying to tempt him. Which you succeed.

Endurance - how much he lasts? what about how fast is he ready to go again?

Criston is a menace for your sanity. All in a good way, of course. He could grow hard from one touch of yours alone, a brush on his neck, a lick of your lips, a ghost of a kiss, a pointed look and some choice words and he's good to go. And does he go! You begin to wonder if training to be a knight did something to him or if he is simply gifted. The man can last to make you cum four times and still not a twitch from him.

Fixation - what is that thing you can always count on him to do?

Listen, we established the man is a needy, clingy, romantic hoe. He has to feel closer to you than human possible. Adding more intimacy to everything you do than you would have imagined. So Criston has a fixation with lacing your fingers together. Take your hand as he slips in and out of you and sqeeze it tight as your walls milk him. Brush a thumb over your own on the rhythm of his thrusting. Anything, just to hold your hand, fingers curled in one another. In and outside of the bed as well. But rarely does he gets the chance outside of the comfort of your love making.

Giddy - how stoic, or not at all, is he in bed?

Criston doesn't laugh much, but he has a smile plastered on his face the whiole time. At the end, he'd huff an exhausted attempt of a laugh as he rests his head between your breasts.

You, on the other hand, he's obsessed with making you laugh. Tickling your chest with his hair, neck with his tongue, in delightful teasing. He needs to know you're enjoying it as much as he does and the sound of your laugh combined with moans and shouting his name seals the deal.

Haste - what is the preferred pace?

Slow and sweet. He'd drive you crazy before letting you have your release. Fingers laced together, lips exploring every inch of skin, Criston pushes inside you like a sommelier tasting the best wine he ever had. Hitting every nerve. Attentive, careful to feel every spot inside you as he is to with the outside. He fills you so well, you're left a mess of sweat and tears of pleasure at the end.

Imaginary - how creative is he in bed?

If you count talking, than Criston is a match for the poets. He would lean and whisper in your ear how good you make him feel. How much he wanted you, how long he's been waiting to have you. He'd make sure to compliment your body as well as everything else he can remember through the pleasure fogged brain. Finding the most obscene, yet somehow sweet and artistic ways to dirty talk.

Jealousy - how strong is it and how does it manifest?

Oh, boy!... Criston is a very jealous man. No one else can even look at you in a suggestive way that he immediatly bars his teeth and fights to restrain himself from slashing a clean cut with his sword through the daring man. But when he catches you alone he makes sure you're still his. It's the time when he breaks the slow pace for a cruelly fast one. He'd never hurt you, of course, you can rest assure. He'd speed up to let his nerves out, biting and sucking at any part of your body his mouth fall onto. You always make sure to tell him how he's the only one you want, but part of you enjoys the hectic man he becomes when he thinks of competition. As if there could be anyone else, but him.

Kinks - how kinky is he?

You can't tell me this man is not as vanilla as they come. Which isn't a bad thing, mind you. Criston loves to see your face when doing the do. The fluttering eyeslids, the rolled back eyes, the opened mouth in a beautiful O shape. Sometimes you'd bite your lips to keep the maons at bay and he'd kiss at it, pulling with his lips and teeths until you let yourself go. It makes him so happy to see it all. Either if you're on top, or him, Criston likes the simple intimacy of the act. Nothing hazardeous, just two bodies loving each other.

Love langauage - what is it and how does it fit in bed?

Definetely words of comfort. He may feel it deeper than he ever thought possible, he may see it in your eyes, but Criston needs to hear your love and make sure you do his as well. How does it play in bed? You get a very talkative boyfriend, that's how. Peppering you with kisses and praises. Reminding you of how perfect you are, how nice you feel under his touch, how good you are to him. Begging to hear your voice too. Until all it's left to be understood is an amalgam of barely discernible words, moans and cries.

Masturbation - a yes, a no, a maybe?

Nope. The all too pure, all to honorable knight deems it below him to make himself cum, alone, in his fist. However, if he is in your company and you ask him, he will oblige. Seeing you smirk lovingly at the sight of him falling apart gets him all turned on and itchy for your touch. He'd let you stroke him to orgasm, if he can return the favor. Criston would try to have you masturbate in front of him, but he can't help touching you, turning it into real fucking.

No's - what's a hard no from him?

Derogratorry terms. This man hates, capital letters hates, calling you anything but the most amazing of all compliments. Even in ire, Criston will make sure to keep being respectful and addressing you only with highmost manners. As for being called your whore or slut... you better not. The poor guy will feel so betrayed, hurt and dissappointed, he might left to fight in a war without telling you. Yes, even walk out during the do.

Orgasm - (cum) anything to do with it

Criston got loads to shoot into you. He wants it all kept in the safety of your swollen, stimulated cunt. When you blow him off, though, he would much rather watch it shower over your body than dissappear down your throat.

As for your own, he always tries to make you squirt. Splashing your juices in a white mess over his cock, or into his mouth. Give it all to him, he wants to take it. However, Criston is more than happy to feel your orgasm coating his tongue, fingers or cock, no matter how much there is.

Practice - does he have plenty of it or none at all? what does he preffer in his partners?

Criston isn't a virgin, but neither did he left behind a trail of women he slept with. So, he does know his way around a woman's pleasure and is quite the good lover, adapting quickly on your needs, but he is still bashful until you actually sleep together and the first few times.

Quarrel - hate sex/angry sex/make up sex and all that comes after a fight

You have 'naught to fear of him and you know it. But Criston can become a sour sight when angry. It's rare, though, when it happens. He usually keeps his chill, like a knight is trained to. But when he does lose it, Criston also looses his appeal to conversation. He'd scarringly silent in bed, stoic as well. Eyes fixed in yours as he goes punnishing slower than usual. Softer too. Teasing. Making sure he avoids all the right spots. Petty bitch (you'll think, but don't say it outloud). He is able to edge and edge and edge you until you settle your fight and put it behind.

Though you are no less of a menace when you're the angry one...

Raw - pretty self explenatory...

Despite there being, uhm... ways, to cover his dick for babyproof protection, if you're comfortable with it, he preferrs it skin to skin contact. Nothing between his length and your pulsing walls.

Scenery - how prone is he to a different scenery than the bedroom?

Surprisingly, very much so. He likes to take you out in the woods on intimate dates that might end in you two rolling around the forest's ground. He would be happy to sleep with you in the stables, but you tried it once and the hay isn't as comfortable as the grass is... But the most ridiculous, yet fascinating place you fucked and made love to each other in, or rather on, must be the highest tower's roof. Criston took you up there to star gaze and, well, you gazed at the stars in his eyes while riding him into oblivion. The rush of adrenaline at the thought of someone seeing you, the logic reassurance no one could, the chilly air, the sky above, dressed in stars and moonlight, the heart beating faster at every slick slip. Though you knew you wouldn't fall. Criston jumped and ran and even did some push ups to test the resilience first. It quickly became your favorite spot for the devil's tango.

Top - kinda gives it all away, no?

He would prefer to be on top, yes. Gives him a sense of power and control he desperately needs.

Unrequeited - how does he reacts when you two stumble over differencies

He is not usually the one to give in. Be it a position you want to try or a particular kink, he doesn't want to hear it at first. But once you thoroughly explain it to him, he will try it. You know Criston isn't the adventurous type in bed, but for you, he can change it every now and then. He knows he can trust you to guide him; be safe and vulnerable with you.

Voice - how does he like sounds during the devil's tango?

Sound on, please! This man neeeeeeds to hear you. Your moans are enough to electrify his body. If he can get cries from you, he might cum sooner than he wishes. Laughs are more than welcome, words too. Entire conversation on lazy days when you're more swinging your hips laizyly than actually fucking. Or dirrections. He loves to hear you beg for harder thrusts, or point him to massage your bud with his fingers, suck on your tits or whatever is it that you want from him.

Where - the place you do it more often

Remember that roof i was talking about earlier? Yeah... you see where i'm going with this, right? Say what you will about vanilla Ser Cole, but the man life is hanging by a thread by his chosen profession. He can die in a gross war at any given time. Of course he likes the risk. Especially since he knows it's safe (not a triangle roof, mind you, a flat one), otherwise he wouldn't be taking you there. But, yes, this is the favored, magical place. Good luck when it's raining because Criston doesn't mind it one bit. "I can protect you with my body!" He'd cry. And he would. Though rain still drops on you from the loose ends of his hair, tickleing you. Neither of you care about the weather once he's inside you, though. May it be cloudy, sunny, a clear starry night, foggy, thunderstormy or even snowing, you would heat each other up with your bodies.

X-rays - thoughts and feelings when he's fucking you

All he can think about while snapping his hips inside your welcoming pussy is how lucky he is. How much he loves you, not because you let him fuck you, but because your hair is sprawled on his pillow like the roots of the one and only life tree from ol' legends. Because your mouth is often found in a mixture of a moan and a smile (pleased and happy), both his doing. Because your closed eyes roll behind your lids so vividly it bewitches him. Because your body shifts and turns and your skin wrinkle and you're so perfectly real he can't believes you're his.

Yielding - is he a dom, a sub or a switch?

If this man doesn't give you sub vibes, are you even paying attention? Buuuut, he's a bratty sub. Doesn't yield power over himself or his body that easily. It makes him uncomfortable to even feel the desire to. Once he makes peace with it and finds it in himself to trust you, be completely vulnerable with you, he is the most eager, obedient and needy man you could have gotten stuck with (lovingly).

Zoom in - favorite spot on his and your body

During sex, Criston adores his hair. The way you'd comb your fingers through it, pulling at those polished brown locks, bringing him closer to you. Scratching his scalp when you're too blissed out to notice. Hearing your laugh as he tickles you with the thick strands as he kisses your body. He absolutely loves it.

On you, he worships the lips. The shapes they make when you moan, the way they move when you talk, how they stay lightly apart when you breath in and out after a round of passion, desire, lust and love. The way they feel on his, or his body... the man is obsessed.

#ser criston #ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole #criston cole x reader #criston cole #my writing #my fic writing #my fic ideas #my fic #my words #my wriitng #my wrtitng #headcanons

[alder-saan]

French class time!

For the non native french speakers who want to write French readers. Or about Morticia and her French pet names.

Let's talk about pet names, shall we?

DON'T TRANSLATE LITERALLY, it's strange

"my darling girl" -> "ma fille chérie" (worst: "ma chérie fille" which isn't gramatically correct) -> in French it's used for CHILDREN, your daughter in this case, it's giving pedocriminal vibes.

We, French ppl, don't have as many pet names as English ppl do, but I can give you a list of what is used:

(used by almost everyone, less used now, specific to some couples, not often used but sometimes you can hear it, rarely used)

(neutral doesn't officially exist, I added it anyway)

Mon amour : my love (neutral) (cannot be used without possessive)

Chéri/Chérie/Chéri.e : darling (masculine/feminine/neutral) /!\ can be sarcastic (Mon/ma/man if you want to add a pronoun m/f/n /!\ French possessive is about the subject, not the owner, so it'll be "ma chérie" even if the one saying that isn't a woman).

Très cher/très chère/très cher.e : dearest (m/f/n) /!\ often used for teasing or sarcasm, or old fashion (if you write an historical AU)

mon cher/ma chère/man cher.e : dear, teasing or sarcasm, or old fashion (cannot be used without possessive)

Mon beau/ma belle/man belleau : my beautiful (cannot be used without possessive)

Mon ange : my angel (neutral) (cannot be uses without possessive)

Trésor : treasure (neutral) (can also be used with the possessive: mon)

Mon coeur : my heart (n) (cannot be used without possessive)

Poussin : chick (m/maybe n) (can be used with the possessive: mon)

Doudou : no literal translation, it's the French Creole word for darling, but doudou in French is also the cuddly toy (can be used with the possessive: mon)

Ma colombe : my dove (cannot be used without possessive)

Ma biche : my doe (cannot be used without possessive)

Mon chat/ma chatte/chaton : my cat/my female cat/kitten (m)/(f)/(n) /!\ careful with the feminine one, it means pussy with exactly the same double meaning.

Mon sucre d'orge : my little candy (n), cannot be used without the possessive

Mon chou : my... puffy cream? (M) can be sarcastic (F: always sarcastic or pitying)

Choupi/choupie/choupi.e : alternative way for saying "mon chou", often used for children but not only (can also be used with the possessive: mon/ma/man)

Ma puce : literally my flea... yeah it's weird... it's bcz it's tiny (f, can be sarcastic, more often used for chidren; m, always sarcastic)

Choupette : the feminine for "mon chou" (can also be used with the possessive: ma) (or for children)

Ma mie : my close friend (not literally but it's the idea) (f) /!\ really old fashion (like XVIIs-XVIIIs) but can be used by some ppl for teasing. (don't spell it "mamie", it means grandma)

Ma douce : sweetie, old fashion or teasing (f), never heard/read it for a man, but it'd be "mon doux", and the neutral'd be "man doux.ce"

Bébé : baby, not really used anymore by others than cringe men... (in French it's really giving pedocriminal vibes... Or it's just me, maybe)

Also: you can add "petit/petite/petit.e", (small/little), "joli/jolie/joli.e" (pretty), "beau/belle/belleau" (beautiful), between the possessive and the pet name. /!\ (doesn't work with "amour", "cher", "très cher", "mon beau", "ma mie" and "ma douce")

I think this is a good list... I might add some more if I remember.

Hope this is helping you.

#french class #pet names

[strangesthirdeye]

Chapter 9; Unfortunate reunion

✩ KAMAR-TAJ - ROOFTOP DEFENSE COMPOUND - DAWN ✩

An overhead view above Kathmandu. The sun is just cresting the mountains, painting the rooftops with golden light. The view is glorious. A gentle breeze is the complement of the day. Great for taking pictures actually.

Atop the roof, dozens of sorcerers, including Mordo, practiced a martial arts kata, all chanting and moving in unison while making identical runes of light in the air. It’s beautiful.

The way they all moved was very smooth and firm and simultaneously. The way they move their hands and moved their muscles so gracefully. John walked between them with the careful stern eyes of an instructor, examining their stances and runes, bellowing out the count as he goes.

Two week has passed, as well as Stephen's beard and hair are getting longer making his face hard to be recognized, who is right now is in the group of sorcerers who are practicing and moved at the instruction of the instructor. He seemed to be struggling to keep up with those moves. Until the instructor gave instructions for summoning magic, Stephen's hands seemed to shake more aggressively and he seemed to be in a hurry to catch up with them. The pain in his hands was getting worse as he tried to hold back the pain by ignoring it.

He struggles to make light of shape with his crippled fingers. The look on his face was like despair. And the magic he did, did not form any kind of shapes and only left a spark of light.

Frustrated, he tried again more diligently. As the saying goes, practice makes perfect.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

✩ COURTYARD - UNDER THE TREE - SAME TIME ✩

"Let's say if suddenly there was a threat from another dimension in the middle of the city, what would be the first thing you would do?"

"Create a mirror dimension? Where what happens in the mirror dimension will not have an effect outside the mirror dimension" you replied simply.

"Three thousand points for Ravenclaw. Great.. right.. next question" Dhani leaned forward and palmed both her hands and brought them to her mouth.

"What are the 4 marks of a mystic?" Dhani questioned with fake serious voices.

"1) Ineffability; 2) Noetic Quality; 3) Transiency; 4) Passivity." You listed while showing four fingers towards her.

"good girl, are you sure you didn't eat the books spells you borrowed from the library? I mean, all the questions are correct" Dhani blew her lips. "not to be pretentious, I passed all the 'exams' that The Ancient One gave me which she claims I blended all the spells books using a blender and drank the juice from the spells book in order to pass all the tests. I still remember that one time I once took it seriously with her plan" Dhani said while looking at the students practicing there.

"at least you don't have to be kicked out like the 'mystery' man that day" You joked while gently nudging Dhani's shoulder who was sitting next to you.

Dhani giggled. "I did try to bribe Ancient One to borrow one book from her collection tho. It worked but best not to follow that" Dhani said mimicking serious voices.

You chuckled. "what happened to that 'mystery' man? I never even saw him yet these past two weeks"

Dhani glanced at you several times. "seriously, haven't you seen him yet? Sheshh, I've had many sessions with him actually. He never shares his name, you know. He just keeps quiet and focuses. Sometimes I saw him near the library in a hidden corner. Lots of books are with him. I'll tell you what, he has beautiful eyes"

"really?" you said in disbelief.

"yeah, you probably don't recognize him because he has a lot of beard and long hair right now. I wonder when he will shave all that hair." Dhani blew her lips.

Out of nowhere, Moon, Dhani's cat suddenly climbs up and sits on Dhani's lap which makes Dhani jerked in shock. Dhani scolded Moon. Moon meowed and nuzzled into her abdomen. Dhani unconsciously brushed her fingers into Moon's furs.

"I think now he might be in the group that is training on the rooftop there" Dhani nodded towards the rooftop that has several students training.

You looked at the place where Dhani pointed out. Obviously, there was only one student wearing gray clothes in the group. Which makes you recognize that mysterious person. He is tall and well built. Pale skin glistening with sweat. And he seems to struggle to keep up with the instructor's instructions. This reminds you of the day you came here.

While you are busy observing the mysterious man, Dhani who is looking at the same spot is also looking at John who is right now walking towards the 'mystery' man. Both of his hands were placed behind him as he stopped in front of the man in the gray tunic who was struggling. John seemed to be demonstrating to the man as the man seemed to focus on the movements of John's hands before he tried to make the same movements as John. But only a spark of light is visible.

As John demonstrated again, his well built hands flexed trying to get rid of the pain in his hands showing his veins that appeared in his arms before making the same movement again. With that, Dhani was stunned and her face turned red. Moon nuzzled against her stomach trying to find comfort.

"That's him right?" you muttered.

Dhani returned to reality and turned her gaze to you. Her red face is fading. Dhani cleared her throat. "aye, That's him.. The only one wearing a gray tunic. Don't worry, you'll run into him later" Dhani patted your arm encouragingly.

"Yeah.. Later" you mumbled.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

✩ KAMAR-TAJ - ROOFTOP DEFENSE COMPOUND - AFTERNOON  ✩

It was the same day only it was afternoon. The sun peaked in the sky getting hotter as well as the rising temperature making Stephen's body glistening with sweat. He and Mordo have been there for several hours of Martial training. Both of them drenched with sweat.

Stephen runs through a sequence of fighting stances with Mordo, blocking and sweeping with his arms. His form looks good, but still no runes of light - unlike the mostly-younger Novices around him.

Stephen stopped and let out a tired breath. "How is learning Karate going to help heal my hands?"

Mordo stopped but his fighting stand didn't budge. He looked at Stephen oddly. "Karate? We're not ninjas." Mordo beat Stephen again which makes Stephen kneel to the floor.

"Again" Mordo gave the order and returned to make his fighting stand followed by Stephen after panting several times with his breath.

They repeat the sequence of fighting stances again until they think it is enough for today. But still, Stephen still ended up kneeling on the ground after being beaten several times by Mordo. Stephen was panting.

He groaned with tiredness and defeated. He then looked up at Mordo's face.

"up. We're not done yet" Mordo held out his hand to Stephen which Stephen reached for Mordo's hand and got up.

After that, Stephen cracked his head and his arm trying to ease the pain. Both of his crippled hands are throbbing with pain only for him to ignore it. Stephen took a breath and exhaled before returning to his fighting stance. But before he started to strike Mordo, the corner of Stephen's eyes seemed to see your figure walking in the courtyard. Stephen froze and looked away from Mordo to see what he thought was a glimpse of you but what he thought was already gone.

Stephen narrowed his eyes at that spot but was cut short when he felt his leg being tackled by Mordo causing him to fall to his side hard. Stephen groaned in pain.

"like I said, we're not done yet"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a young night where all the students were on their way to their respective dorms, some went to the kitchen for dinner and some were still training in the courtyard for some practices. Stephen who is still wearing gray tunic walked towards the library with his hand holding some of the books he borrowed two weeks ago. The one that John recommended him to read. Stephen took a thousand steps into the dim library. He saw Wong at the counter who seemed to be settling some books there solemnly with a powerful physique under his simple robe. His eyes are proud. In this place he is king.

"hey" Stephen greeted him as he approached the counter.

Wong glanced at him with an unreadable look. "Mr Strange" he greeted back with a flat tone.

Stephen clumsily put the book on the counter. "Uh, Stephen please.. and you are?"

"Wong" Wong simply replied.

"Just Wong? Like Adele" Stephen guessed.

Wong just stared at him blankly. This made Stephen awkward.

"Or... Aristotle...? Drake...? Bono....? Eminem...? " Stephen guessed with shame he lowered his head and refused to make eye contact with Wong.

Wong ignored Stephen's joke instead he reached the stack of books in front of him and began to note the titles.

"The Book of the Invisible Sun. Astronomia Nova. The Codex Imperium. Key of Solomon"Wong noted the titles of all the books one by one and then looked at Stephen with narrowed eyes. Silently in disbelief.

"You finished all of these?" Wong asked.

Stephen silently fidgeted his fingers while avoiding eye contact with Wong. "yep" he sheepishly replied while popping 'p'.

Wong just ignored it and reached for the book borrowing form that was in the file on the counter and took out the exact same form that John signed.

"It's said here that you borrow for 4 weeks. And you return it after 2 weeks" Wong glanced at Stephen blankly.

"Perhaps I'm too excited to read it" Stephen said while stroking his arm anxiously.

Wong just kept silent. "follow me" Wong ushering Stephen to follow him to the massive bookshelf.

"alright" Stephen tailing Wong from behind.

Wong leads Stephen to the lower part of the library where the eye of Agomotto resides plus where the Ancient One collections are located. Wong then walked to one of the massive bookshelves full of ancient books.

"This section is for Disciples and Masters only, but at my discretion, others may use it."Wong said then walked to a bookshelf without glancing at Stephen.

Stephen, who seemed to be in awe of the well-arranged and large bookshelf, could only remain silent. Observing everything that is there. Without any sarcastic comments.

Wong then came towards Stephen and handed him a massive textbook. Stephen grabbed and almost dropped it because he didn't expect Wong to give him a book this heavy.

"You should start with Maxim's Primary. " Wong suggested as he walked towards another bookshelf without sparing any look at Stephen. "How's your Sanskrit?" Wong added.

"I'm fluent in Google Translate." Stephen blurted out his crack jokes.

Like before, Wong ignored that and handed him another books. "Vedic and Classical Sanskrit."

Stephen studied the book in his hand. All three books have a hard cover that has an odd pattern for those who are new to this mystic art. He doesn't make any comments about that as long as he has something to learn just like he did when he was young. Trying to get Phd and MHD in order to achieve his career. Although for him it's quite easy considering he has a photographic memory but sometimes there are times when the things he learns make him stressed. But the stress will disappear when he spends time with you.

You chill and relax in that matter because for you it needs to be done in a relaxed manner and take the time you need. You don't need to stress yourself to achieve your career. Until the time, you need to slow yourself down and do it calmly and orderly. That's all.

But well, sometimes because of Stephen you can also stress with how chaotic and rushing he is to do or understand something important. Sometimes or always you need to remind him to calm down and slow himself down because he may have a big brain and can handle information but his body also needs enough rest.

Stephen sighed heavily. He indeed needed to slow down and calm down to learn new things. It would be great if you were with him. study with him like in school. He observed the books for the last time then looked up from the books in his hand and looked at several rows of distinctive-looking chains ancient volumes in front of him.

Stephen looked at it strangely and walked towards the volumes slowly.

"What are those?" Stephen pointed out towards the volumes.

Wong gave a quick glanced at the volumes. "The Ancient One's private collection." Wong replied.

"so they are forbidden?" Stephen turned his gaze to Wong.

"No knowledge in Kamar-Taj is forbidden. Only certain practices." Wong replied without looking at him.

Stephen nodded in understanding and reached for an ornate volume on the chain. The Book Of Cagliastro.

Wong looked at some shelves. His eyes briefly glanced at Stephen.

"But those books are far too advanced for anyone other than the Sorcerer Supreme." he added.

Stephen flipped through the volume and stopped when he saw a pages that had been torn.

"This one has pages missing." he pointed out.

Wong glanced at Stephen. "The Book of Cagliostro. Two rituals stolen by a former disciple, The Zealot Kaecilius, just after him strung up the former librarian and relieved him of his head." he leaned his head on Stephen with a firm face. His eyes looked directly into Stephen's eyes sharply.

"I am now the guardian of these books. So if a volume from this collection should be stolen again, I'd know it, and you would be dead

before you ever leave the compound. " he warned with his gruff voice.

Stephen swallowed his saliva hard after hearing the warning from Wong knowing who he meant. He is invisibly intimidating with Wong's presence as he always talks about things seriously and is never serious. He shook himself from his reverie and tried to lighten up the tense mood there.

"What if it's just...overdue? Any

late fees I should know about?

Maiming perhaps? An amputation?" Stephen chuckled to himself. Wong just kept his blank reaction.

'damn it, Y/n usually laughs at my jokes' Stephen thought. He awkwardly stared at Wong again.

"You know, people used to think I

was funny. Stephen said.

"Did they work for you?" People questioned.

Stephen could not answer that. 'Y/n always finds me funny' he thought.

Wong stared at him with a consistency that made Stephen become uneasy under his gaze. He awkwardly tried to leave with a last farewell.

"Well. Thank you for the books. And the horrifying story. And the threat upon my life." Stephen began to retreat.

"Wong?" a feminine voice was heard from behind them both.

Wong turned his head to look at the source of the sound. There you stand with a book in both hands. You who wear a dark red tunic mixed with white along with matching dark red looked at Wong expectantly.

"Dhani said this book has volume 2, do you know where it is?" you asked as you showed the book to Wong.

Wong just hummed but Stephen who was behind Wong was stunned after seeing a glimpse of you. You still don't see Stephen yet as your eyes are only on Wong.

After so long you disappeared and left without telling him where you were going. There you are in the Kamar Taj where he decided to treat his hands. After a long time he was there, he didn't know that you were also there. He lost all words, his eyes were focused on you without realizing Wong walked towards you and took the book from your hand and inspected the book longingly then without any word he left from there to find the materials.

"Y/n" he breathed out your name unconsciously.

You cocked your head when you hear your name called and looked at the person standing between the chained books. Your eyes automatically widen when you recognize that person.

"Stephen?" you gawked at him. Your heart is overjoyed seeing him in person but your emotions are confused with what the hell is he doing here.

You walked towards him slowly. Until you are in front of him, you look up at his face. Still tall like a giraffe and still handsome as you left him except for his beard and long hair. His eyes, oh his eyes, it's been a long time since you looked at his multicolored eyes. Beautiful as ever, shining like a stars in the sky. As if you were looking at the whole universe in his eyes.

Stephen? well, Stephen is flabbergasted just like you but somehow his shame comes from nowhere. Shame because he looks like he has been defeated. Shame because you know that he indeed needs help and is lost. Although for Stephen you know why he is here but in reality you don't know why he is here.

"wha- what. Oh, god" you reached for his hand and hurriedly walked towards the exit of the library. Stephen is still in the disbelief and dumbfounded phase with this reunion so he is now on autopilot and willing to be dragged by you.

Now, both of you are now outside the library door still in the phase of confused, happy, awkward and all kinds of mixed emotions. You didn't expect that the mysterious man that Dhani said before was Stephen himself. He's been here for like two weeks and you don't know about it. Now it's a bit of a mess up and confusing. So was Stephen.

"Y/n"

"Stephen"

you both called each other names in unison but then shut up. The both of you look at each other's faces trying to observe what changes. You disappeared for a few months and finally Stephen bumped into you here. Now Stephen understand what you said before.

"you can walk" Stephen blurted.

You stared at Stephen with guilt. "yes.. I can walk normally"

"so, this is the place you said you wanted space" Stephen approached you.

"yes" you replied.

"and you learn magic" Stephen looked down at you.

"so was you, Stephen. What the hell happened to you?" You stared at his face.

Suddenly his face changed from disbelief to a defeated face. He turned his gaze from your face.

"You surely know what happened to me" Stephen muttered.

"what? What happened? what are you talking about? Stephen, I've been here for a few months and I haven't opened my phone because I want to take time away from any technologies. All news or what's going on out there I don't know. Only Dhani who shared what happened out there. I don't know what the hell happened to you and now suddenly you here?" you explained.

Stephen was stunned then he returned his gaze to you. "so that's why I called, emailed and messaged you, you didn't reply at all. You know I was worried about you after you made your last message that suddenly went unanswered. You know I feel like is this my fault? even though I'm not do anything wrong that makes you disappear for a few months. You know I've contacted all of your friends to track your whereabouts but it turns out you're not there at all. It's like you don't exist on this earth at all." Stephen poked his index finger on your shoulder.

"I can't tell you where I go because this place shouldn't be exposed and I don't want to bother you to find me." you argued

"oh but it's bothering me, Y/n. All night I've been thinking about your whereabouts, whether you're ok or not? Are you safe and stuff like that." Stephen replied.

"You-.. oh, suddenly you want to care about me?" you poked his chest.

"I care about you" Stephen argued.

"And what about Christine?" you fight back

Stephen flinched when Christine's name was mentioned. Now he felt stabbed with a knife to the heart. The fight between him and Christine is still fresh in his memory. He looked away from you.

You who were still fuming started to calm down and turned your gaze to another place.

Suddenly you feel regret. This is not the reunion situation you want. You don't know why you suddenly feel like yelling at him even though he didn't do anything wrong. He's just worried about you. That's because all mixed emotions are released in the form of sentences and expressed to each person's face. Guilty, regret and mad are all mixed up.

Stephen let out a heavy breath. "She and I are not on the same page anymore"

You glanced at him with a disbelieving face. "Stephen.. What happened?

"I was involved in an accident a few months ago after you disappeared. Well, I took your advice to go alone. And because of me I also ended up here. I drove fast and was on call leading me to the accident and damaged both my hands" Stephen looked at his crippled hands. Scars decorate his smooth skin.

"I wasted my money to get my hands back and my job but everything is useless. I tried to follow your advice which is to accept the destiny but I can't. I got frustrated, i got impatient that leads to quarreled with Christine even though she only wanted to help me" Stephen's gaze did not move from both his hands as regret etched on his face.

You look at him with sympathy. It's true what you said before, accept fate and get on with your life but all that is just trash talk. look at you, seeking help desperately to advance in life.

You softened your look at Stephen and then without any doubt you walked slowly towards him and approached him cautiously. Stephen still not moving his gaze from his crippled hands. His eyes held emotions that were very heavy to support. You reached for his scars hands and held them gently in between yours.

"Steph, everything that happens must have its own reason. We don't know what will happen if we choose a path other than what we want and yet what we choose has its advantages. You accident and losing the use of both your hands doesn't mean you lost everything in life. you chose to go here to heal your hands and now you learn magic isn't that the advantage? I know you, Steph. You don't believe in magic hence you always say that magic doesn't exist even event 2012 happened in front of your eyes, you still don't believe in the existence of magic. But, you changed your mind, Steph." you spoke, eyes looking at him precisely and determined.

Stephen raised his gaze and glanced at your face with frowning eyebrows. You both held eye contact trying to find any emotion in each other's eyes. Although the two of you have known each other for a long time, you can still detect any lies or truth in each other. Hell, even Stephen knows your body language. While you understand his behavior. His ego, his show off and cheeky. Anything about him you understand.

Time flew like a bird in the sky, you both didn't realize how long you held eye contact which was actually only a few seconds before Dhani suddenly appeared from behind you. Panting tried to catch her breathing which was getting low after running all over the Kamar Taj looking for you. Her face looked as if at some point she would collapse to the floor with how labored her breath was.

Both you and Stephen jerked away from each other and broke your eye contact by looking elsewhere. Stephen is slightly upset because he lost the warmth in your hands. He curses under his breath.

"Y/n.." she breathed and puffed out her big sigh.

You turned around and looked at Dhani with concern and walked towards Dhani who was leaning against the walls of the Library tiredly. You put your right hand on Dhani's shoulder worriedly.

"Dhani, hey.. What happened?" you asked her with a worried tone.

Dhani calmed down a bit and tried to put herself together by slowing her breathing. She then closed her eyes and sighed slowly before looking at your face with a guilty expression.

"I'm sorry, babe" Dhani apologized with a guilty face.

Stephen perked up his head to see Dhani with a confused expression and slightly jealousy in his heart.

You cocked your head slightly to the side in confusion. "what- why are you apologizing?"

Dhani held your right hand that held her shoulder gently and brought your right hand into both of her hands. Dhani palmed your right hand tightly.

"The book I told you.. The book that I told you has volume 2 actually... It doesn't have volume 2! " Dhani said loudly and shook your right hand strongly.

Just after Dhani claimed her 'confession', Wong came out of the library with the book you gave him before, in his hand. He then noticed the unfortunate events in front of him with a surprised expression before his eyes focused on you.

"Miss L/n.. This book..There is no volume 2 " Wong said in a raspy tone while his face held no reaction.

You are stunned and speechless with all this situation that fell in front of you. Where Dhani accidentally set up your and Stephen's reunion without any intention. Which you find it grateful but at the same time a bit stunned.

Stephen looked down trying to hold back his laughter when he pieced the puzzle together.

'Oh, what a wonderful day.' He thought.

#benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #unspoken love #dr stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #marvel cinematic universe

[lavenderbexlatte]

legendary: chapter 12

stray kids 8.4k words female reader insert SFW

🖤 warnings: reuniting, horrible puns, complicated feelings and bad communication, bang chan’s problem with loyalty above all else, wlw antics but just a little bit, if you haven’t seen the Pokemon Indigo League episode The Tower of Terror i recommend it for spoilers 🖤

Legendary Series Masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

Saffron City is the largest city in the entire region, and it shows.

All the other cities you've visited are similar, but this one is just so undeniably big. Densely-packed tall buildings, not so much urban sprawl with one specific highly-developed downtown but rather an urban center that covers many square miles, endless skyscraper apartments and office buildings. It seems that as the city grew, it grew up and out equally, height and circumference together.

It's stunning. If you like cities, that is, and you like them just fine.

Gorgeous, as the now very dusty SUV picks its way down one-way streets, as Matthew calls out directions from the passenger's seat and helps Somin navigate toward that address on that slip from Pallet Town.

"Do we know what we're gonna do when we get there?" you ask.

"No," says Somin, distractedly.

"Because we might need a plan."

"We'll just - damn it!" she hisses, as she hits another red light. "I hate it here."

"It's this next turn," Matthew reports.

Despite her complaining, Somin navigates easily into the correct lane, and it's only a matter of moments before the car is pulling up on front of just the most garish chromed-out building you've ever seen.

It's got an enormous logo across the top corner, the word 'KeyCorp" spelled out in golden block letters. But as you gaze up at it, as Somin parks and Matthew complains and J.Seph figures out how the parking meter works, you can see a different outline below those letters. The shape is stained into the paint, betraying that the building used to be called something different, belong to someone else. An S, you think. An I, an L...

The street address, written on the building's front entrance on a placard, fills in the blanks. 2 Silph Drive. This was SilphCo.

"What was SilphCo known for, again?" you ask.

"That's an old company," Matthew frowns. "Wicked old."

"The first Master Ball," says Somin.

"The only Master Ball," J.Seph corrects.

"I'm sure there are more, now."

"Maybe not. Ever seen one?"

"No," Somin replies, "But why would they make just one?"

"Experiment," Matthew says.

"If it's that powerful, I'm sure they would make more."

"Let's find out," you say.

The lobby is pristine to the point of abject inhumanity.

It's scrubbed clean, gleaming floors and security cameras in every corner and the distant clicking of shoes, somewhere. Elevator bays disappear into the higher reaches of the towering building, behind a row of turnstiles with scanners and a metal detector. A long, polished wood desk sits there in the entry before it all, manned by a bored-looking young woman in a pale gold uniform.

"Hello," she says, dully. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes," Somin lies.

"With whom?"

"With...Ms. Lee?"

The woman pauses, and then nods, returning her gaze to her computer screen. "Let me check her appointments for today to confirm."

You glance at her. There wasn't any plan in place. She's making this up on the fly, and though it's working so far, with her good choice of generic name, there's no telling how far the grift can carry you.

"It's such a relief to be back in the office, on normal hours," Somin says, conversationally.

"I'm sure."

"We've had such a long drive."

The receptionism tsks. "It's the worst, isn't it? A bad commute?"

Somin's simper doesn't fail. "It really is. After the Pallet Town assignment and all..."

She's scanning the woman's face carefully for any change in expression, at her name-drop, but the receptionist just hums noncommittally.

"What are you doing?" you hiss, as quietly as you can manage.

"Getting us checked in for our appointment," Somin replies.

All this time laying low and making plans and sneaking around to get information, and she just wants to boldfaced lie to get into the building like this. It's admirably ballsy.

"Um, I don't see any appointments with Ms. Lee today..."

The receptionist glances among the four of you, more than a little suspicious, like she's actually taking in your casual clothes and travel-ruffled appearances.

"What's your name, again?" she asks.

Somin looks at you. You look at J.Seph. He looks at Matthew.

Matthew takes off for the scanners, vaulting himself over the turnstile. "We're bustin' in!"

Crimes. He did say he liked the crimes.

The three of you have no choice but to follow.

It was an easy leap for Matthew, tall as he is, and J.Seph also clears the turnstiles easily enough, but you and Somin have to scramble overtop bodily. Matthew has already hailed an elevator by the time you're on the other side of the security unit, and you pile into the waiting car, the door sliding shut on the sound of the receptionist calling ahead for help.

"Four of them - kind of homeless looking, I don't know-"

"I looked so much worse than this when I was homeless," Matthew says, jackhammer-pressing a random floor number.

"Great plan, fuckwad!" J.Seph says, smacking Matthew on the shoulder. "Now they're after us!"

"Nah. We can get a good look around before they catch us, if nothin' else."

"Security is probably already coming," says Somin.

"We'll outsmart 'em."

"Got a plan, then?" you ask.

"No," says Matthew. "But we'll figure something out."

"We can't just wing every single thing we do!"

"You guys are so dramatic."

The elevator reaches the fifteenth floor, and stops.

Unfortunately for Matthew and his general optimism, there are people waiting in the hallway beyond, and they don't look all that friendly. Three of them, dressed in black and gold uniforms, each with a utility belt holding a row of Pokeballs, they're all but tapping their toes as they come into full view between the opening doors.

J.Seph lunges for the buttons to close the door again, but there must be a kill switch somewhere, because the lights inside the elevator click off and the humming of the motor stops completely.

"Seriously?" one of the security officers says.

"Are we really worth your time?" Somin asks, with a sneer.

It's moments like these when you remember that she's more or less a criminal for hire. The poise. The aura.

"You shouldn't be in here," the officer says.

"And yet, here we are."

"We're going to escort you back down."

Somin smiles. "I don't think so."

She's talking a big game for someone with no Pokemon, and you're fascinated. What if she can just talk her way out of this?

"Okay," the officer says, "Then they are."

He pulls out a Pokeball, and his companions do the same.

So much for talking.

"Round up these clowns," the officer commands, as he releases his Pokemon.

But as soon as the Pokemon emerges, it stops.

Coiled on the ground, intelligent eyes peering at the group of you, still pressed into the elevator together, it's simply watching. It barely fits in the hallway, it's so big.

"Arbok!" Somin gasps.

You nearly choke on nothing. "No fucking way it's the same-"

"Arbok!" Somin repeats, elated.

The Pokemon hisses, practically wriggling, and it lunges forward to nudge its giant purple head into the elevator car so that Somin can scratch it down the snout with both hands. It's her Pokemon, alright. Apparently taking away their assets and putting them to better use means relegating perfectly battle-trained and well-loved Pokemon to guard duty with a bunch of arrogant pig-

"Get back here!" the officer howls. "Arbok, Tackle!"

"Arbok doesn't know Tackle," Somin says.

"Well, they promised me a stupid fuckin' animal that knows-"

"I'm sorry, is that how we talk about Pokemon around here?" asks Somin, cool audacity in her voice.

He's in trouble, now.

"I'll talk about that thing however I damn please!"

"Enough of this," one of the other officers says, "C'mon-"

He lets out his own Pokemon, which is equally useless, because he lets out Weezing. J.Seph's Weezing. You know, because it immediately joins Arbok in trying to cram itself into the tiny elevator car to be close to its trainer.

Stunned, the final officer tries his hand, and the resulting Pokemon is so tall and heavy that it cracks a hole in the ceiling as it stands up fully.

"Golem!" Matthew crows.

Terrible, excellent dumb luck.

"Earthquake," the last officer orders.

But Golem ignores him. Obviously, these Pokemon aren't about to listen to anyone but their trainers. And their trainers are here, now.

"Team K," the first officer says, realization dawning on his face.

"Have we met?" J.Seph asks.

"I mean - we didn't - not officially-"

"Oh, I remember," says Somin lightly, edging around her Pokemon to step into the hallway properly. "You three were in the unit that came to repossess our pets."

You catch the unspoken hint in Somin's recognition of the men: you're in the right place. KeyCorp is the right company. The officers step back almost instinctively as Somin steps forward, her own gait slow and predatory.

"It's unfortunate that you did that."

"It was our assignment," he redirects. "Nothing personal."

You wonder if she feels the irony that you do, in that statement. You can't help but remember Somin saying the exact same thing to you, once upon a time. Nothing personal. It's never anything personal, is it?

"You could have refused," she suggests.

"Not a direct order from the boss, we couldn't."

"Then I have a message for your boss," says Somin.

They're just corporate security officers, which means they're plainclothes, no armor, no weapons. Just the Pokemon, and those have already been proven to be at least partially Team K's own Pokemon, stolen. She walks right up to that first officer, standing uncertainly at the front of his little squadron.

She's about a head shorter than him, but she sneers, winds up, and delivers an uppercut to his jaw that sends the man sprawling.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" his teammate swears.

Somin shakes out her hand, her knuckles already reddening. "Don't fucking touch my Pokemon."

For a second, there's no sound other than the security officer groaning in pain from the floor, the clink of his uniform badges against the tile, as he writhes.

And then Matthew whistles, admiring. "Minny, you're the man, for real."

"You wanna give the rest of their Pokemon back?" you ask.

"As if," the second officer says, but his voice is shaky.

You hum, reaching into your pack and taking out one of your own Pokeballs.

"I wonder who's better at battling," you muse, tossing the ball from hand to hand, "Us...or you."

The second officer scoffs. "We're not just going to give you-"

A clattering sound makes him turn, to see the first officer running down the hall, a spotty trail of blood in his wake. His utility belt, with all of Somin's Pokeballs fixed to it, lays on the floor where he'd been standing.

"Apparently, you are," Somin says. "Quickly, please, we'd like to be on our way.

Really, you think to yourself, as the four of you ride the elevator back down to the lobby, Team K with all of their recovered Pokeballs in their arms, this wasn't so bad. Maybe you should just do everything without a plan. It's worked well so far. It worked damn well here.

There are no other security personnel waiting on the ground floor, no city police. No sign at all that you just had a physical altercation up there, inside a swanky corporate building.

It's almost too easy.

"I think they're letting us go," you say.

Matthew makes a noise like he wants to disagree, but J.Seph nods.

"I think so, too."

"Why would they let us get away with that?" you ask, rhetorical but curious. "I mean, they know who you are, right?"

"Right," J.Seph agrees. "They know all the dirt on us. They might even be following us, after that."

"Think they could have been following the whole time?"

"No," says Somin. "It wouldn't have been worth it, before, not when we were regular contractors and especially not after they cut us off."

"But now that we've proven we're too much for them to handle..." J.Seph trails.

"Then let's do something normal to throw them off," you suggest.

"Like?"

You grin. "The Saffron City gym is all Psychic type. Wanna go play?"

----------

You're biased in thinking that the most beautiful gym in the world is Celadon Gym, but the gleaming silver columns and vaulted arches of the Saffron Gym are also stunning.

It's big. Really big, and gorgeous. For a gym in a big city, you're surprised there isn't more traffic in the area. Spectators, or tourists, if not trainers looking for a battle. Your own home gym has school groups touring it, and private lessons, but this place is austere, quiet.

The van is the only car in the lot, when you and the others leave it there and make your way to the front doors.

They open for you, motion-activated and silent. Unlike in Celadon, there's no welcome committee, nowhere for you to check in or ask questions. That suits you just fine, though.

"Better just find the staff," J.Seph mutters.

"Probably in there?"

Somin's probably right, considering the enormous glass-paned double doors across from the entrance light up even as she speaks, quaking with the force of a blow on the other side, the telltale signs of battling happening in the next room.

So that's where you go.

Most of what's back there meets your expectations.

It's a beautiful empty space, golden walls and marble columns, a clearly-marked battle arena on the floor. There are a few comfort features, some spare tables and a line of doors that must lead off into more functional rooms, but mostly it's an intimidating space.

There are trainers, most of them in similar deep green uniforms giving away their status as members of the gym. There are Pokemon, primarily Psychic types but also some others - you can spot a good number of Ghost and Electric types among them.

The thing that you don't expect to see is a familiar face.

He's not wearing the same uniform as everyone else, so he stands out regardless. You zero in on the streaked hair despite yourself, on the rakish grin as the trainer guides his Alakazam in a battle against a Slowbro.

"Damn," Matthew says. "They don't fuck around in here."

One of the uniformed trainers glances up at the sound of Matthew's voice, and nods politely at the four of you.

"One second," the trainer says, "Someone will check you in after this round."

"No trouble," J.Seph assures.

The Alakazam wins. The trainer pulls it back, victorious, and turns around presumably to speak to the uniformed staff who've been watching.

But he sees you.

"(Y/N)?"

His stupid face. You can't help but smile. "Seungmin."

The way that Seungmin jets across the battling floor and comes at you, there's a second where you think that he's going to hug you. But that doesn't fit his image, and he knows it, so he stops short just in front of you, surprise painting his boyish features.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks.

"Getting into trouble," you say.

"It's good to see you, the fuck."

He's never going to instigate anything, so you reach out and squeeze his shoulder gently, affectionately.

"It's good to see you, too."

"He's one of the District 9 kids," Matthew says, like he's puzzling it out for himself.

"The one that lost to me," Somin adds.

Seungmin's expression sours when he takes in your companions. "Still with...them, I see."

"They're not so bad," you say.

"Working on your strategy, then?" Somin asks him, smirking.

"Right," Seungmin cedes. "We...had some downtime, and I figured it'd be good to work on my Psychic."

"Friends of yours?" that first uniformed trainer asks, joining the knot of you.

"She is," Seungmin nods toward you.

"Well, any friends of Seungmin's are welcome," the trainer says. "We can take, oh, half an hour break? Another round after, and then debrief?"

"Sounds good, thank you," says Seungmin.

There's more polite weight in his words than you've ever heard from him. Turns out he does know how to use his manners.

As permission is granted, the room relaxes. Staff trainers filter across the arena floor, talking, and some disappear behind the doors or take a seat right on the dirt to chat. It suddenly feels more like a gym, and less like a threat.

"Are you here alone?" you ask.

Seungmin nods. "Solo time. It's weird."

"Thought you were all about Ghost."

"Well, I figured if I master Psychic, I'll have two specialties, which makes me that much better," Seungmin says, with a sneaky grin. "Plus I'll know all the type weaknesses between the two, so I'll never lose."

"We can test that theory," Somin interjects.

He sends her a withering glance. "I'll pass."

"It really is good to see you," you say.

"We were gonna stop by and see if we could battle for a gym badge," Matthew says. "But this is kinda dope, too."

"Where are the others, if you're here?" you ask.

Seungmin sighs. "It was Chan’s idea. We're having some type-specific training time before we get back to the league. I picked Psychic, here I am, battling my way through all these guys about a million times a day."  

It’s a good chance to try and get some perspective on what Felix told you, so you press, "You guys have been in the league?"

He nods. "Nonstop."

"Why?"

"Dunno. New way of life, though," Seungmin says. "I'm here, Jeongin is training Fire down on Cinnabar Island, Hyunjin and Jisung took off to Cerulean Gym like a week ago, and Felix stayed home."

"And the others?"

The expression that crosses his face is familiar and unsettling, an evil hint of a smile. You know nothing good is coming.

"Changbin brought Minho and Chan to train at the Fighting Dojo," Seungmin tells you.

You almost don't want to ask. "Where's that?"

"Oh, here in Saffron. Like half a mile away."

Fuck.

"I'm really happy to see you, but they might not be, by the way," Seungmin adds.

"I don't blame them."

"They can't hold it against you, still," J.Seph says. "C'mon, that's ancient history."

"Not everyone forgets things so quickly," you say.

"Like you," Somin deadpans. "Try to kill a person once, and they never shut up about it."

"So you admit you were trying to kill me."

"Now is not the time for this."

"Hey," Seungmin cuts in, "They might be super pissed, but, like, do you wanna see them anyway?"

"I don't know if I should," you say.

"We prolly shouldn't stay in one place for too long," Matthew says. "If they're really followin' us, we should stay on the move."

"Someone's following you?" Seungmin asks.

"Yeah, it's a long-"

"I don't really care," Seungmin decides.

Still a shitty kid. You missed him.

"We might as well go," Somin says.

"I don't think we should go," Matthew corrects, pointing at himself and then around at Somin and J.Seph.

He's right, you realize. As much as it makes more sense to stick together, lest anything happen while you're separated, there probably isn't any good reason to make the boys reunite with you and Team K at the same time. Especially not with the history you've learned.

"Then you go, and we'll settle where we're staying tonight," J.Seph suggests to you.

"You sure it's okay?"

"Sure, I'm sure. Don't break too many hearts over there," he winks, like the worst older brother in the universe.

"I'm done here in about an hour. Sooner, if we end this break early. Hang out until then, and I'll take you over," Seungmin offers.

He seems awfully insistent for you to go and meet up with his friends, again, and it makes you a little suspicious. Not that there are bad motives, or anything, but maybe that he's got a personal agenda. To make you see Chan again, you suspect, somewhere deep down.

Which is daunting. It would be daunting in any case, but after hearing Felix’s conviction that Chan has been looking for you, you’re more apprehensive than ever. But then, Changbin is there, and Minho...Minho, who you owe the world's biggest apology for putting him in harm's way when he was trying to help you...

You give in. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

-----

Team K are long gone, off to arrange a hotel or something for the night, and Seungmin's training session wrapped up a little while ago, and meanwhile you've had plenty of time to stew over what you're doing.

Here you are, back in the thick of it, in every which way. Back to all the ghosts of your past.

"We might have to sneak in," Seungmin says, as the two of you approach the sprawling traditional architecture complex that makes up the unofficial Fighting type gym.

You're suspicious. "Why?"

"Because they don't let people in without appointments, and even though they've met me before, they haven't met you," he reasons.

"So make an appointment."

"And," he adds, "If the guys see you before you see them, they might just take off."

That is very stupid and very possible.

"Fine."

Sneaking in, however, turns out to be easy.

The gates are unlocked, and you walk right in. The next door that you meet is also propped open, and the next after that, and the one singular trainer who sees you just waves merrily and continues on their way.

"Cocky bastards," Seungmin mutters. "What, don't need locks if your fists are hard enough?"

"Don't talk shit on their turf!"

"As if they care."

A few rooms in, you find what you're looking for.

A battle arena, not unlike the one in the official gym. But this one is partially underground; you and Seungmin emerge on a catwalk that runs around the perimeter of the arena space, and the actual floor is about twenty feet below.

That means you're out of sight, though, which proves helpful because the battle taking place down below is also exactly what you're looking for.

Ages ago, lifetimes ago, at the tournament where you'd met Team K again, you'd wondered out loud what Minho was doing with a Fighting type Hitmonlee. You'd been told to ask Changbin. You have more questions for Changbin, now, because it seems that lots of them have Fighting types.

The Pokemon in the ring are that Hitmonlee and a Hitmonchan, and the trainers are Minho and Chan.

Changbin stands on the sidelines, barking orders and advice and calling moves. There are other staff around, people in tan-colored shirts, but even these people whose job it is to train Fighting type can't stand up to Changbin's presence and - mostly - his loud voice.

"You call that a fuckin' High Jump Kick?!"

"I'm sorry!" Minho snarls back.

Hitmonlee ducks as Hitmonchan comes in with a new attack, flames up its strong bulbous fists, and none of that doesn't seem to satisfy Changbin.

"Chan, bitch, I keep telling you, if you lean that hard on Fire moves, you'll never fuckin'-"

"Quit backseat driving!" Chan snaps.

The worse part about it is the fact that you know for certain, despite the way they're talking to each other and carrying on, the three of them are having immeasurable amounts of fun.

Changbin is not deterred. "Look, just try-"

He's cut off by Hitmonchan catching Hitmonlee's attack and stopping the fight completely, just one Pokemon's strong leg held aloft by the other's strong arms. A stalemate.

"Oh. Ah."

"Can we call it?" Minho asks, panting like he's the one giving it his all.

"I guess," Changbin grumbles.

"Thank you. Fucker."

"But you're a couple of pansy-ass-"

"It's about time to wrap up, anyway," one of the staff members interrupts, before more insults are thrown.

"Besides," another staff adds. "We have company."

They jerk a thumb up at the catwalk, where you and Seungmin lean against the thick railing that rings the platform. Seungmin waves, and you freeze.

To your credit, Chan freezes, too. His Pokeball falls right out of his hand and clunks awkwardly onto the floor. Minho calls back Hitmonlee and stalks away, out of sight. And Changbin lights up like a firework.

"No fuckin' way!"

Changbin opens his arms like he expects you to drop the two stories right into them, and honestly, you're tempted.

But to spare yourself (and him) the broken bones, you just go for the stairs, taking them at a breakneck pace, skipping as many as you can without tripping. You're fully aware how silly you look, running to him, someone who you knew for (as you keep having to remind yourself) only a short while, a couple of weeks. You also don't care.

Loving harder is part of this whole deal. You missed him, and now you don't have to miss him anymore.

"I can't believe you - what are you doing here?" Changbin is asking, incredulous, as you reach the bottom of the stairs.

"Trying to fix things," you say.

His arms are still held open, patient and welcoming, and you can't help the way you run forward and don't stop until you're nestled against him, head at the crook of his neck and his strong arms around you. You've never hugged Changbin before, but it feels like you've done it a hundred times. He pulls you back to hold you at arm's length, just to look at you.

"Fuck, I didn't think you'd be back," he grins.

"I couldn't stay away," you reply.

Changbin just laughs, and lets you go gently.

Seungmin has made it down to the arena level, by this point, and you glance over to see him hanging over Chan's shoulder, looking more amused than he has any right to. Chan still hasn't moved, watching you with a slightly dazed look in his eye, like he's not sure what he's supposed to be seeing.

You charge on, giving him another moment to collect himself, and shoving Changbin lightly on the arm with a, "Look at you, calling the shots out here."

"They looked pretty good, huh?" Changbin says, with some of his finest bluster. "All my idea."

"What part?" you ask, amused.

"Them getting these Pokemon."

"You wanna spread the glory of training Fighting?" you tease.

"Nah, it's all for the bit," Changbin says.

Something clicks into place, and you cough out a laugh. "Wait - because - Hitmonchan?"

"Hitmonchan," Changbin agrees. "And Hitmonlee, as in Lee Minho. Funny, right?"

Well, mark that down as another person's last name you're learning way too late.

"It's so dumb!" you protest.

"That's what's great about it."

You really did miss him.

Figuring that there's no way to avoid it forever, you turn around fully to face Chan. He's stiffened up, shrugged Seungmin off his back and picked the Pokeball off the ground.

"Hi, Chan."

"Hi," he answers.

"How have you been?"

"Fine. I'm not about to make smalltalk with you," he says flatly.

"Then I'll cut the bullshit. I'm sorry, Chan."

"Sorry for what?" he asks. "Sorry for teaming up with your own enemies and putting the lives of thousands of people in danger because you couldn't control yourself?"

He's lashing out because he feels wronged, and you fully know that, but it still stings.

"For leaving without telling you, yes. For disappearing."

"You could have come back."

"I couldn't. You know I couldn't."

"You can do whatever you want. You make that perfectly clear," he snaps. "Which means you didn't want to come back."

"Chan, I'm sorry for-"

"For almost getting Jeongin killed, maybe?"

"For that, and-"

Chan holds your gaze coldly. "Or maybe for fucking Jisung and Hyunjin, when I thought...I thought maybe..."

Next to him, Seungmin winces.

"That's enough of that shit," Changbin cuts in firmly.

"Minho had the right idea getting the hell out of dodge, I can't do this," Chan says.

He turns, then, and walks away. It's not smart to follow him. It won't fix anything, mostly because he's asking you to apologize for things that you're not sorry for doing.

"You betrayed us," Chan says, pausing in the doorway. "We trusted you and you left. That's not what you do when you're on a team."

The heavy door into the next section of the gym slams behind him.

Changbin looks at you, crestfallen. "He doesn't mean all that."

"Yeah, he does," you say grimly.

"He'll calm down, though, and he'll talk to you for real. Minho, too, I'm sure."

"Don't push them. I get it."

It's just as well that you get a message then, telling you that Team K are outside the Dojo to collect you. A good buffer, a perfect escape right as things are getting messy.

"I should go," you say.

"You just got here," Changbin whines.

"And I should go."

"Don't make us wait around for you again. We'll miss you too much."

"I miss you guys too," you say, and your throat is tight as you do.

You let him get one good hug in, a tight squeeze that nearly knocks the wind out of you, and then you head for the exit again.

"Tell Chan I'm sorry, again. And Minho, too," you say, as you climb the stairs.

Changbin just watches, eyes sober. "They'll come around."

"I know they will. Bye, Changbin."

-----

Sliding into your seat in that SUV has never been more difficult than it is in this moment. There's an urge in your chest, not logical or practical but very much real, to go back in there and hold Chan and Minho close, to make them understand how much you care, how sorry you are. To crush them with how sorry you are, make them feel secure in a hug like Changbin can do.

That's not going to happen, though.

If they forgive you, someday, that'll be on their time.

"Did you find somewhere?" you ask Somin softly.

She hums, affirmative. "A pension. Kind of out of the way, in the next town."

"We thought you'd want some distance. Seems like that was a good call, huh?" Matthew says.

"It's harder to follow us out there, too," J.Seph adds. "If anyone is still following."

You nod. "Good thinking."

"I take it things didn't go well?" Somin asks.

"Not really. It's okay, though."

"If they're your friends, they'll come around," says J.Seph.

"It's my fault they're upset. They'll figure out if they want to make up or not, eventually," you say. "It's fine. I just want to go to bed."

The car ride isn't long.

This pension is in another little town, a misty and underdeveloped place with a crooked sign that you pass on the way in, reading Lavender Town. A huge tower looms over the small buildings that comprise the town proper, lit up but only partially.

"I don't think I like it here," you say.

"It was cheap," J.Seph dismisses.

"We'll be okay for a night," Matthew agrees.

It looks cheap, when you pull up to the tiny vacation rental home. Cozy, sure, but a little run-down, ivy growing up the wooden siding and overgrown plants in the front yard.

And there are only two bedrooms, when you get inside.

"Split up boys and girls?" Matthew suggests.

"You just don't want to room with me because of that time with the mask packs," Somin says.

"Damn right."

"Whatever option gets me to sleep faster," you say.

So boys and girls it is.

Each room only has one bed, because of course it does. On the one night you would really rather be alone, to cry, maybe, or at least to feel sorry for yourself, you have to be right up in someone else's business. And of course, that someone is Somin.

Matthew or J.Seph would leave you alone if you asked. Not her.

Somin bothers you right away.

You've both showered, and gotten into pajamas. She stands at the door, hanging up clothes on rack there, and you're under the covers, ready to roll over and not move for the next twelve hours, when she speaks.

"I know how you feel, you know."

"That's nice," you say, dismissive.

"I know how your friends feel, too," she says.

"Your whole career is self-interest and double-crossing, that doesn't surprise me," you mutter.

Somin scoffs. "You forget that the last person who I trusted wholeheartedly ended up leaving me, too."

"You trust people?" you ask, annoyed, sitting up again.

She matches your tone. "I did, once. And look where that's gotten us."

"You don't trust the guys, then?"

"Of course, I do. But they've known each other much longer than they've known me. It's different. But with her..."

Jiwoo. She means Jiwoo.

"I forgot," you say, softening again.

You forgot that Jiwoo isn't just someone who walked out of your life, whose new status in life is heartbreaking to you. You forgot, despite everything, that Team K lost her too.

"We really weren't close. Not like you were with her," Somin admits.

"That doesn't mean she didn't matter to you."

"I know that!" she snaps. "I know. We weren't sisters, or anything frivolous like that, but we were teammates. Friends, I think. I would have helped her with anything, done whatever she needed. And she still left."

"Yeah."

"So please believe me when I say that I know how your Channie feels, alright? I understand."

Her voice is constricted. It's the most emotion you've ever seen from Somin that's not anger.

"I'm...I know it doesn't help, but I'm sorry," you say.

"No," Somin brushes it off, "No, I just...wanted you to know. That I understand both sides. But it's not the same. Jiwoo and I were coworkers, cordial but trusting. You and Chan...it was different, wasn't it?"

"It was," you say.

She smiles humorlessly. "I thought so."

"But I mean..." you hesitate. "I've known you and the guys much longer than I ever knew him. If we're talking pound for pound, instance for instance, we're closer."

"All of us," she clarifies.

For once, you are brave. "And you and me."

Somin blinks at you. "Me and you?"

"We're close, aren't we?"

"I guess we are," she says, as if she hasn't thought about it.

"I haven't had that many close girl friends since I was a kid," you say. "I have some, of course. But I haven't had one good, close friend like that in a long time."

"I don't know that I ever did."

You stand up, leaving the warmth of the bed to go over to where Somin is still lingering by the door. "You should try it."

"Maybe I will."

The path from there, standing in front of one of the most perplexing people you've ever known, to kissing her, is hazy, but you traverse it nonetheless.

Because here you are, with Somin's body against you, her hair soft in your hand as you guide her, sucking her bottom lip into your mouth as she tugs on your clothes like she thinks you're going to leave if she's not clawing you ever closer.

"Sorry," she murmurs, "I don't think this is what friends do."

"It can be," you answer.

She hums. "Oh?"

"What's a little fun, between friends?"

She seems to take your words to heart, because she pressed another filthy, tongue-filled kiss to your waiting mouth before she drops to your throat, and bites. You yelp at the sensation, pinching at her side as if to get revenge, and she laughs.

"Should I stop?" Somin asks, her voice a low purr that sets your skin on fire. "I know you like Chan, I would hate to confuse things further."

Why does she keep bringing up Chan? Why can't she just let that go? Why can't everyone get over what happened?

Why can't you?

"I like Chan. And I like you, and I don't think we should stop this," you say, breathless, "But fuck...I feel like you need to know. I have to tell you. As a teenager, that whole time, I was always-"

"A little bit in love with Jiwoo." Somin finishes. "Yes."

Exactly the same, the two of you.

"I'm glad we met," Somin says, mouth hot against your ear.

You have to laugh at that. "Me too."

"And I'm glad that you think being friends, and having a little fun, are not mutually exclusive."

Somin, with her sharp feline eyes and her delicate face, her body in her skimpy nightshirt and shorts, her mouth still attached to the pulse point under your ear, could probably make you agree to anything right about now.

You don't know how far you would go with Somin. Or if it would change anything between you, despite what you've both said.

You don't find out.

There's a knock on the door, right beside the two of you tangled up together, and the loud sound startles you both so much that Somin jumps, her head knocking your chin and your arm crashing against the wall.

Luckily, you've moved far enough apart by the time the door opens.

"Hey," says Matthew, peering in, sleep-rumpled and totally shirtless. "Bad news. We got company."

"KeyCorp?" you ask, all attempts at having some fun forgotten.

"Not yet, but I think - well. I'll let them tell ya."

He heads back down the little hallway, and you follow, annoyed.

"What's that supposed to - oh."

The house is small, so you've already reached the living space and had your question answered.

Standing there uncertainly, still in their clothes from the day of training but now much dirtier, there they are. Minho, Seungmin, Changbin, and Chan.

"Well, hello," says Somin, far more cordial than you would have expected.

Changbin and Seungmin greet her back. Minho simply stands with his arms crossed and brow furrowed. And Chan...is looking very unsubtly back and forth between Matthew, who is mostly undressed, and you...you, with the brand-new hickey that you can now feel absolutely throbbing on the side of your neck.

Oh, God, he probably thinks-

“How’d you find us?” Matthew asks.

Seungmin, for his part, grins. “I had Gastly track you.”

Of fucking course he did.

“Then why are you here?”

"We got run out of the Fighting Dojo," Seungmin says.

"Pardon?" Somin asks, nonplussed.

"A bunch of fuckin' narcs in gold outfits came in and told us the place was shut down, and kicked us out," Changbin says. "Some of the staff put up a fight and they got straight-up arrested."

"Gold outfits?" you repeat.

"KeyCorp. They're really followin' us," Matthew says.

Seungmin makes a sound of disgust. "Their leader was this really bitchy girl - dressed in all teal, hair like a skunk..."

Somin wilts. "They sent her?"

"Then they're serious," says Matthew. "Shit."

"They sent Jiwoo?" you ask, praying you're wrong.

But of course, Somin nods. "If they sent her, they mean business. She has much more power in the hierarchy than the kind of grunts who came for our Pokemon last time."

"These people are following you?" Minho asks.

It's the first time he's spoken, and it's cutting.

"Yes," says Somin.

Minho turns his intense blank-eyed stare on you. "Then it's your fucking fault, again?"

"My fault?" you balk.

"Like every other fucking piece of bad luck that comes our way, yeah! Your fault!"

"Dude," Changbin says, "Calm down-"

"Fuck, no! If she didn't come track us down, these people wouldn't be after us, right now!" Minho snarls.

"Look, if we all stay here, we're easy prey," interjects J.Seph, joining the lot of you in the living room. "We have to move, now."

"Move where?" Chan rasps.

He's looking only at J.Seph, eyes glued to him with an intensity that suggests he'll die if he looks at you, or Somin, or Matthew.

"We need somewhere with one entrance, that's easy to defend, and harder to destroy than a wooden house," J.Seph says.

You have the answer immediately. "The tower."

"That's a bad idea," says Seungmin.

"We don't have a choice. We have to go somewhere," says Somin.

She's already heading for the door, undoubtedly to check the perimeter before everyone charges out together. There's no one on the other side, once she gets it open, but in the distance, there's a flash of color, a shape, high above the trees.

Brown. Flying.

Luckily, you're not the only one who sees it.

"Is that Fearow?" Somin asks.

You don't trust your mouth. You just nod.

"The tower, then."

"I'm telling you, we don't want to go there," Seungmin says.

"Look, you're either comin' with, or you're dealing with these people that we know about and you don't, without us," says Matthew.

You and Team K hadn't even unpacked the car aside from your change of clothes, so sure that you would only be sleeping here and then moving on the morning, and that's all to your advantage. No wasted time repacking, no having to leave crucial things behind.

"I'll stash the car somewhere off the road so they can't find it, and meet you at the tower," says Somin.

"Take Seph. I'll go with these guys," Matthew says.

"That leaves the rest of us on foot," says Changbin.

You glance at Matthew, and at Chan.

"On foot, then," you say. "Let's hurry."

-----

The tower is much worse up close.

You understand why Seungmin insisted it was a bad idea to come here, the closer you get. It's several stories tall, sided with plate metal, reflecting every dim glow of the town in the distance, and there are two eerie projecting pieces on the sides and one on top that look like horns. Cartoonish, maybe, but unsettling, in the dark like this. Scary.

But you think you're right, too. It'll be easy to defend, once you're inside.

And if something happens to this decrepit old building, well. Much less your fault than if you destroy the rental.

Despite being the sole voice of dissent, Seungmin is the first one inside.

"Oh, the vibes are awful," he reports, from inside the creaky doors.

Changbin crosses his arms over his chest, as if to ward off the vibes. "Then why do you sound so happy?"

"Dunno."

"Y'all gotta hurry," Matthew says, following Seungmin inside. "If they catch us off guard out here we're toast."

The vibes are indeed awful.

You get the feeling that this is an old, old building. And you've been in more than your share of old buildings lately. The walls are age-stained, peeling wallpaper and gaps in the crown molding. Antique furniture, so old that it's crumbling to bits, sits abandoned. You can barely make out the shape of several large chandeliers, hanging down the length of the room.

"I would be careful," says Seungmin, as everyone joins him. "I don't think the floors are very strong."

"What makes you say that?" asks Chan, from the back of the group.

He points into the darkness. "That."

You see what Seungmin sees, after a second.

There's a hole in the floor. There's a hole in the ceiling, too, like something - or someone - fell through the levels of the tower all at once and ended up in the basement.

"Oh," says Changbin, uncertain.

"Scared?" asks Matthew.

"Yeah. Are you?"

"Fuck yeah."

"That makes three of us," Chan murmurs.

"What even is this place?" you wonder.

Seungmin walks gingerly near the edge of the hole. "Some of the gym staff were talking about it. I guess it used to be used for something? People are afraid to come in, so no one really knows anymore."

"Well, it's creeping me out."

"I bet people died here," says Minho.

Seungmin grins at him. "I bet-"

He stops, silent, at the sound of footsteps. Outside, on the dirt path that leads up to the tower. You watch as Minho's hand slips into his jacket pocket, and as Chan goes for his own Pokeballs in his backpack, before a figure stops at the door.

It's just Somin.

"Found you," she says, peering into the darkness.

J.Seph is right behind her, and the two of them come into the building after you. Nothing left to do now but wait.

"Hey, d'you think people died here?" Minho asks her.

"Probably," she says coolly. "You'll be next if you don't mind your manners."

The tower door chooses that moment to slam shut.

Screaming fills the room, and as Somin lights up the flashlight she'd brought with, like a practical adult, you can see who it is: Matthew, Changbin, and Chan, because of course.

"Shut up!" you hiss.

"Doors are not fuckin' supposed to do that!" Changbin insists.

It's not like you're not scared, yourself. On the contrary, you find yourself shifting closer to J.Seph, who's still just standing there calmly, wishing you could siphon his courage. Seungmin's eyes are fixed on a spot right beside the closed door, and the slowest smirk is spreading across his face.

"Are you a Gastly or a Haunter?" he asks.

There's a faint chuckle from nowhere, a gasping inhuman laugh, and then a pair of enormous white eyes materialize on that same spot.

"A Haunter."

"How-" Chan clutches at his chest, "How did you know-?"

"You think I don't know when there's Ghost types?" Seungmin says.

"Jesus fuck," Matthew swears.

"Hey, some people say Ghost types are just Pokemon that died, so in a way, you're right," Seungmin tells Minho.

"That doesn't make it better at all!" Changbin groans.

You're not bothered by the Ghost Pokemon here. There are Pokemon all over, and Ghost types are just another type, theories be damned. It's the reason that the Haunter felt the need to slam the door that concerns you.

Because not a moment later, there's a pop outside.

A window shatters. A dull thud.

Somin swings the flashlight around, until she spots it: a pitted hole in the wall, not far from where she's standing.

A bullet hole.

"Go," Somin urges. "In, farther, now-"

"Watch the floor," Seungmin yelps as he takes off.

Edging your way around the jagged opening in the floor, you keep your eyes on the faint outline of Seungmin as he heads towards the stairs on the far side of the room.

There's no way out if you go up, but maybe-

The door slams open again, so hard that the whole structure rattles, the chandeliers swaying above your head.

"That was a warning shot. Don't make me do it again."

"Fuck," mutters J.Seph, just behind you.

You know what he means.

That's Jiwoo's voice. Her accent thinner and less noticeable after all these years, but it’s her. You could never forget.

A man comes in first, and then another man, and a few more people, all dressed in the gold and black uniforms that the other KeyCorp security had worn. Some of them have Pokeballs in hand, but some of them have weapons. You don't know if you've ever seen a gun in person before, unsheathed and at the ready.

When Jiwoo comes in, it's like your mind goes to static.

She's dressed in a power suit, a blazer and shorts in a deep maroon color, and her hair is still dyed in streaks of black and white. Her dark eyes are ringed in makeup, the way she always liked it, but her stance is a hundred times as confident as it ever was when you knew her.

It's obvious that she's grown since then. So have you.

"Hi, (Y/N)," she says, voice deep and calm, just the same. "I have to say, you keep pretty interesting company these days."

You can't say anything. You just look at her.

"I mean, who would have thought? My old team?" she tuts. "And these new guys, too. They have a lot of cool tricks up their sleeves, if their files are correct."

"What's the deal, here?" Minho asks boldly.

"The deal is that interesting assets join KeyCorp, no questions asked," Jiwoo says.

"And we're interesting assets?"

"You are," Jiwoo nods. "You, your Pokemon, these degenerates..."

She gestures at Team K. Somin bristles.

Matthew makes a little noise of disbelief. "Woo, you can't fuckin'-"

"I can," Jiwoo interrupts smoothly. "So let me tell you how this is going to go. You all are going to come with me, and we're going to find a place for you in KeyCorp."

"Or?" Chan challenges.

"Or, nothing. There's no other option. You're coming with me."

She has all the strength she would need to make a threat. Come with, or die. Or something of that sort. But she's not doing it.

You wonder why.

"No," says Somin.

"I have to agree, no fucking way," says Minho.

Jiwoo sighs. "That's the wrong answer."

Seungmin is slowly, slowly ascending the stairs, and Changbin is right behind him. You think they could probably get away, but the rest of you are right out in the open. You and J.Seph are the closest to Jiwoo. But you're also some of the people who could distract her best.

"I don't see why you need all of them," you say.

"They're my directive right now. I follow instructions," she replies.

It's the stupidest possible thing to say, but you say it. "You've wanted me this whole time, haven't you? Since that first tournament in Azalea City? Take me, then."

It's Changbin who yells, "Don't-"

"I'm making you a deal," you interrupt. "Take it or leave it."

Jiwoo is actually struck speechless, looking at you as if she's not quite sure if you're serious.

"Me, or no one," you say.

You go to take a step toward her, to show that you're not bluffing, and that's where everything goes wrong.

You stumble.

In your haste, at some point during the journey, you didn't close your bag all the way.

Your Pokeballs spill out.

One of them falls right on the release button, and there she is, in the middle of this mess. Your baby.

You yelp, "Oddish, don't-"

"Catch it," Jiwoo orders, waving one of her henchmen forward.

No.

Frightened and in the dark, your Pokemon takes off, squealing. You dive after her.

Behind you, another flash of light, a Pokemon being released, and you hear the earsplitting bark of Chan's Arcanine. The building tremors again with the force of it.

"You're going to regret that," Jiwoo spits. "Do what you have to."

It all happens so fast that you don't have time to react.

One instant, you're chasing Oddish, her little leaves just under your hands. Another pop of what you now know is gunfire rings out. The loud creeeeeak and snap of wood letting go.

Somin screams something. Chan screams something. You look in the direction of Arcanine's fire, and something gold reflects over your head.

And then you don't remember anything at all.

#pokemon au 😈 #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #kard fanfic #kard fanfiction #kard imagines #kard scenarios #bang chan fanfic #stray kids bang chan fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

[lutiaslayton]

« Introduction || Masterlist || Next (coming soon!) »

Hello everybody! This playthrough is finally starting, and with it goes my sanity. I am playing on DS (French version but you will probably never see photos of it), mobile (UK version, I might sometimes give screenshots), and emulator for the Japanese “Friendly” version, of which I will provide the most footage.

The “Friendly” version is a re-release of the first DS games which added the furigana to the text, made all weekly puzzles available from the start instead of locking them out as downloadable content, and perhaps had a few other features I am not aware of. I only realised once I reached the title screen that this was not technically the original, but oh well. When I compared the DS, non-“Friendly” version of London Holiday with its mobile re-release version, the differences were completely anecdotic (the kanji 言 replaced with its hiragana spelling twice, and hint coins being renamed from ヒントメダル to ひらめきコイン, their current name); so I hope that the differences will be just as minor, because I unfortunately do not have the means currently to check them.

Major disclaimer:

I DO NOT SPEAK JAPANESE. KEEP THAT IN MIND. All my conclusions are based on what little stuff I know here and there about the language, but I am not at all a reliable reference in the subject. If you can speak Japanese, then please do feel free to correct me anytime, add details I forgot, etc. Thank you!

Important Note:

In the Japanese version, puzzles are consistently referred to as 「ナゾ」 (pronounced “nazo”), while 「ナゾトキ」 (pronounced “nazotoki”) will usually refer to the act of solving such a puzzle. Both expressions are written in katakana, which is in Japanese a way to emphasise words (kind of like italics, if you will). Normally, you would expect to find both expressions written as 「謎」 and 「謎解き」, but the fact that they are written in katakana instead will be interpreted here as “the characters are talking about something similar, but distinct from the original meaning of these expressions.” In other words, not all puzzles are the same, and a distinction must be made between simple riddles or mysteries, and 𝓹𝓾𝔃𝔃𝓵𝓮𝓼™.

I will try to consistently translate 「ナゾ」 as “puzzle” all throughout, and will use any other word if the Japanese version did not use this specific magic word (e.g. if the Japanese version uses the regular spelling 「謎」 instead of the katakana spelling). Therefore, when characters use the word 「ナゾ」, I will consider that they are talking about something far more specific than simply a “mystery.”

Why do I emphasise on such a nitpick? Because a big part of this lore analysis… is to try to define what a “puzzle” even is to begin with.

In this post and the future ones, if you find screenshots which have coloured text, the rule is basically this: red if it’s a “puzzle”, blue if it has a similar meaning but is not the same type of “puzzle” as the one we are most interested in.

Anyway. Digression aside, let’s get started!

HD Version only: The Extra Cutscene

I don’t have all that many things to say about it, since you can watch it on Youtube just fine and the Japanese version doesn’t have much to say that the English translations don’t say as well. Still, just a few things:

Layton has packed a very small suitcase, while Luke has filled the trunk of the Laytonmobile to the brim. Could it be that after Last Specter, Miracle Mask and especially Azran Legacy, Luke is expecting to have yet another long journey? After all, it is just around the very beginning of August, so he’s probably on summer vacations (and that is assuming he isn’t homeschooled anyway during the rest of the time; he definitely was during the time they were travelling around the world in the Bostonius).

Layton, on the other hand, does not seem to expect to stay in St. Mystere for long; but then again, we are talking about the man who, about three years earlier, went off to Misthallery without even packing anything and ended up having to stay there for a few days. (Speaking of… neither did Emmy, for that matter.)

Also, I could analyse the fact that in order to reach St. Mystere, they crossed the Thames, and that thanks to Diabolical Box, we know the approximate location of Gressenheller within London (~9 Earlham St., Westminster); however, I will not do that, because DearestHershel already made a video entirely dedicated to locating St. Mystere using these exact points and others, and I do not disagree with his conclusions.

Letter from Luke to the Player

🇯🇵 親愛なる友人｛プレーヤー｝　へ 🗺️ To my dear friend, {Player}, 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 To my dear friend, {Player},

🇯🇵 ボクたちが、あの日、あの町で体験したことは、誰にもいえない秘密になってしまったんだ。なぜなら、これは… 🗺️ What we experienced that day in that town has become a secret that we can’t tell anyone. This is because… 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 The things we saw that day in the village became a secret we would have to keep from everyone for the rest of our lives. Because, you see…

Nerd talk aside, I would personally consider this letter to not be canon in-universe, notably because Luke specifically states that he will never divulge the secret of St. Mystere… only to proceed to do exactly that in his letter. Also because of the fact that this letter being canon would imply that someone sharing the Player’s name exists in the Laytonverse and that Luke knows them well enough to want to share details of his cases to them, including this one.

Whether you decide to make your personal self-insert character canon or not, this still raises the question of just how many people are aware of what transpired in St. Mystere. Layton and Luke seemingly decided to not tell anything to anyone at all in order to protect Flora; Bruno and the inhabitants of St. Mystere have been aware of pretty much everything for years (perhaps less so in the case of the robots) and will keep doing their thing; and Don Paolo is quite unlikely to tell anyone either due to the fact that pretty much every plan he had for the town, its treasure, and its robots, ended in failure (and also, depending on how we interpret his character, he would also keep the secret for Flora’s sake).

And yet, there is something that has been bothering me for many years…

親愛なるレイトン教授へ

あれから数か月になりますが、教授、お元気ですか？ 一緒に仕事をしている仲間からレイトン教授が遺産相続騒動を解決したという話を耳にして思わず手紙を書いてしまいました。

タージェントから世界を救ったあのレイトン教授が単なる遺産相続のナゾトキの依頼を 引き受けるなんて。 まさか…と思いましたが、ナゾには目がない教授ですし、きっと知的好奇心を刺激される不思議な出来事だったんでしょうね。

Dear Professor Layton,

It’s already been months since then, hasn’t it? I hope you’re well. When I heard from my colleagues that Professor Layton had resolved an inheritance dispute, I couldn’t help but write a letter.

I couldn’t believe that the same Professor Layton who saved the world from Targent accepted the simple request of solving an inheritance puzzle! But since you always have a penchant for puzzles, it must have been a curious case and quite the intellectual workout.

This letter was written by Emmy Altava and was revealed in the Japan-exclusive Azran Legacy art book (For the translation, I borrowed the one made by @the-azran-legacies​ for the general style, but took the liberty of altering a few words when I felt like their translation was deviating a bit too much from the original text). Needless to say… If only at first glance, this is an issue. Not only did Emmy hear of the case, but she also heard of it from her journalist coworkers? Well, then again: perhaps what should be said here was that Layton did indeed talk about the case to the media (reluctantly so), but left it at “We solved an inheritance dispute in a remote village, it was boring, nothing to see here.” And perhaps the reason Emmy heard of it from her coworkers was either because Layton had not solved a single case between AL and CV, or because this case was simply a “really, there is nothing to see here, I promise” and some journalists are not buying it.

PS: Wild ass theory. In the original trilogy, Luke isn’t writing his letters to “the player.” He’s writing them to Emmy. And in the case of Curious Village, Emmy received Luke’s letter some time after she sent Layton her own. After all, did you know that while CV, DB and UF all start with Luke writing a letter to someone, there is not a single letter to the player in the prequel trilogy games? In fact, perhaps we could even theorise that Luke only got Emmy’s address thanks precisely to the letter she sent to Layton? And he decided to write her a letter explaining her the whole story after he finally got news from her?

Cutscene #01

There is not much to say about the cutscene itself, apart from the fact that the country road they are taking leads to absolutely nowhere else (which is precisely what Puzzle #001 is about), and that aside from said narrow country road, there is not a single human-made element around them for miles. My 2018 past self had already emphasised on that, but St. Mystere is consistently described as being particularly isolated and secluded (due to the fact that it has only one exit, and that the crank being stolen later will close that only exit).

The Car Scene

Phew! We finally made it past the, um… first two lines of dialogue in the game after the mobile cutscene. Wow. This is going to be a long ride, isn’t it.

I will not give the entirety of the dialogue, but I will show the parts that caught my attention:

🇯🇵 …２ヶ月前、資産家、アレン・ラインフォード氏が亡くなった。 🗺️ …Two months ago, the wealthy Allen Rhineford passed away. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 Two months ago, Baron Augustus Reinhold passed away. 🇯🇵 その後、彼の遺言状が開示されたが、そこには、実に興味深い内容が記されていた。 🗺️ Later, his will was disclosed, and it contained some really interesting details. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 Shortly after his death, his will was disclosed. The contents of it were fascinating, to say the least.

Baron Augustus Reinhold is actually named Allen Rhineford in the Japanese version, according to the romanised version of アレン・ラインフォード. Also, it is to be noted that the Japanese version does not seem to refer to him as a baron, at least not yet.

(EDIT: I mistakenly wrote it as Lineford, thinking that there was no official romanised version; however, there actually is one, and it is indeed Rhineford, not Lineford. The source is this Japanese wikipedia page, which gives the romanised names of the characters according to the Japanese version. My bad!)

He died two months earlier; or rather, his death was publicly announced two months earlier, as we will learn much later. Either case, the event Layton refers to took place more or less two months before the day they arrive in St. Mystere, which means that this would have happened around the end of May/beginning of June 1963.

🇯🇵 …我が一族の家宝、「黄金の果実」をこの町のどこかに隠してある。 🗺️ …My family's heirloom, the "Golden Fruit," is hidden somewhere in this town. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 "The Reinhold family treasure, the Golden Apple, is hidden somewhere within this village. 🇯🇵 「黄金の果実」を探しあてた者に、私が所有するすべての遺産を相続させる… 🗺️ Whoever finds the "Golden Fruit" will inherit all of my property… 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 To whomever successfully locates this treasure, I offer the whole of my estate."

Fun fact: the original Japanese version refers to the Golden Apple as 「黄金の果実」, meaning Golden Fruit, rather than specifically an apple.

🇯🇵 遺言の内容を知った一族の者たちは、その「黄金の果実」を、先を争うように探した。 🗺️ The members of the family, who knew the contents of the will, scrambled to find the "golden fruit". 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 Naturally, those who attended the reading of the will immediately set out in search of the Golden Apple. 🇯🇵 しかし、結局、誰も見つけることはできなかった。 🗺️ However, in the end, no one was able to find it. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 But in the end, everybody came back empty handed. 🇯🇵 そもそも、そんな家宝があったなんてことを誰ひとり聞いたことがなかったという。 🗺️ In the first place, no one had ever heard of such a family heirloom. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 It turns out that no one had even heard of such a treasure existing until its mention in the will.

The Japanese version specifies “family members,” while the English translation is more general—which could have implied that other unrelated people might have been present during the reading of the will (or at least, that is how I have interpreted it for years). It is a nitpick, since we are probably few to imagine that people from outside St. Mystere would have actually been present during the reading, if you think about it hard enough. But it is interesting to note that Layton is thus more or less saying here that the only people who bothered searching for the Golden Apple were the family members themselves, and that there is no clear mention of other outsiders coming to look for it.

If no outsider aside from Layton was warned, then this raises the question of just how Don Paolo came to hear about it in the first place… Current hypothesis is that he is stalking Layton and perhaps even reading his mail, simply put. There are dubious ways to read letters without opening them.

Did you notice that the scenery changes after Layton is finished explaining the basics of the case? It seems like the country road led them to go through a forest dense enough to block some of the sunlight. After Luke solves the puzzle, the background goes back to the brighter scenery.

🇯🇵 ああ。彼は莫大な財産をかけて、生涯最後のナゾを仕掛けたというわけだ。一体、何が目的なのかもわからない。 🗺️ Yes. He set up the last puzzle of his life with his vast fortune. I don't even know what the purpose is. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 Quite. Augustus Reinhold staked his entire fortune just to create one more puzzle before his death.

Hey, would you look at that! ナゾ has been said in a dubious context, you know what this means. Take a shot everybody (I’m joking. Please don’t. Tea is amazing but there are health issues related to drinking too much of it).

Joke aside, there is something else to note: depending on how the sentence is read (I do hope someone who can speak Japanese could help clarify), Layton might be either saying that the baron staked his fortune on that “last puzzle,” or that he used said fortune to set up the puzzle in question—or, most likely, both, given the fact that we have another case of “ok perhaps this isn’t magic but you literally have to be the richest person on Earth to pull this off” on our hands.

Additionally, in the Japanese version exclusively, Layton has this additional line: “I don’t even know what the purpose [behind the treasure hunt] is.” This line was most likely removed from the translations due to the lack of space.

In fact, there was another instance in which the translations had no choice but to add another dialogue box and split Luke’s dialogue in two! This happened in this case:

🇯🇵 確かに先生とは気が合いそうですね。ところで、「黄金の果実」っていったい何なのでしょうか？ 🗺️ I’m sure he would have gotten along with you. By the way, what exactly is the “golden fruit”? [1|2] 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 It certainly sounds like you two would’ve gotten along, Professor! [2|2] 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 By the way, just what is this Golden Apple anyhow?

To be honest, I believe that splitting this dialogue into two different dialogue boxes makes more sense, since they are two vastly different sentences and lack a clear transition.

🇯🇵 宝石なのか、骨董品なのか、それもまたナゾだよ。実に興味深い。 🗺️ Is it a jewel or an antique, that is also a puzzle. Really interesting. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 Some speculate it's a rare antique, while others say it could be a gem, yet its identity remains elusive. 🇯🇵 だけど、ルーク、私はこの一件に、他にも何かとてつもない秘密が隠されているような気がしてならないんだ。 🗺️ But, Luke, I can't help but feel that there are some other great secrets hidden in this case. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 But, Luke, I can't shake the feeling that this matter is linked to some larger mystery. Something huge.

So, have you noticed? The English translations have failed to account for the fact that Layton used the magic word in order to describe the nature of the Golden Apple. Just thought I would let you know, it would be a shame to forget to take a shot :p

Oh, and speaking of removing an important “puzzle” magic word through the translation, we have another one just a bit ahead:

🇯🇵 このナゾトキをラインフォード夫人に依頼されただけさ。 🗺️ I was commissionned by Mrs. Rhineford to do this puzzle solving. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 Augustus Reinhold's wife, Lady Dahlia, has asked me to investigate the situation.

Anyway. Layton “can’t shake the feeling” that there is a lot more to the Golden Apple puzzle than a simple treasure hunt. But what could possibly lead him to this feeling? Well… the fact that St. Mystere is so isolated, that the Golden Apple would be an heirloom whose existence is unknown to the members of the family which is supposed to own it, even the fact that Lady Dahlia Reinhold would contact him specifically, perhaps… are some ever so slightly peculiar details, I suppose. Not to mention, perhaps, one thing related to the map puzzle, depending on how the puzzle lore goes. All this is not necessarily enough to truly raise the red flags just yet, but enough to spark some curiosity and suspicion.

🇯🇵 先生、なんだかはりきってますね。考古学者でありながら、どんなナゾでも解決する名探偵、 🗺️ Professor, I'm kind of excited. The great detective who can solve any puzzle while being an archaeologist, 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 This is all so exciting! 🇯🇵 エルシャール・レイトン、さっそく現場へ急行ってわけですね！ 🗺️ Hershel Layton, rushed to the scene immediately! 🇺🇸 I hope St. Mystere is ready for the famous archeologist and puzzle-solving detective, Hershel Layton! 🇬🇧 I hope St Mystere is ready for the famous archaeologist and puzzle-solving detective, Hershel Layton!

Come on, Luke, you have seen much harder puzzles than this. Though, if I were to open a map and see this blatantly not-to-scale drawing instead, I too would have at least a little moment of surprise.

So… This is when the crazy talk really starts getting in. What are your thoughts? Luke is evidently shocked just at the mere sight of it, so I fear that the Doylist explanation “Luke actually is holding a regular map, it’s just that the players are shown the puzzle instead” seems out of the table. Somehow, Luke is able to take this paper, solve the puzzle on it, and deduce from this drawing real life directions for what is for him, currently, the middle of nowhere.

Strange, really strange… It is almost as if the drawing itself were less the key to figuring out the real life directions to take, and rather a gatekeep preventing whoever looks at it from accessing the true map until the puzzle is solved.

Hm? Ah, don’t mind me, I was just rambling. I have not seen enough evidence in this particular instance yet, so the hypothesis that Luke would be surprised less by the fact of seeing a puzzle, and more by the fact that he would find a puzzle that would do Lady Dahlia’s bidding, is at this stage baseless conjecture. I will just keep this little bit of speculation in the back of my mind and see if more evidence to confirm it shows up later, under similar but different circumstances. (Spoiler alert: it does happen regarding the puzzle lore, and it is even crazier than I expected.)

🇯🇵 その地図を解読しないと町には着けないらしい。 🗺️ It seems that you can't get to the town without deciphering this map. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 Lady Dahlia seems to have given us a test. We'll need to decipher this map in order to find the village. 🇯🇵 どうやら夫人は、私を試すつもりのようだ。 🗺️ It seems that she is going to test me. 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 She wants to see if we're capable of cracking the mystery surrounding the Reinhold fortune. 🇯🇵 私が遺産の謎を解ける人物かどうか…君はどう思う？　ルーク。 🗺️ I wonder if I'm the one who can solve the mystery of the inheritance... What do you think, Luke? 🇺🇸/🇬🇧 Care to give it a go, Luke?

Um. Ahem. Excuse me? That last sentence is quite intriguing, all the more so since it could have used the puzzle magic word, but decided to go with the regular kanji spelling instead. Funny how it was not translated at all in the English versions… I can imagine why, but that is still surprising. This sort of reminds me of the cryptic sentences Layton will sometimes say in the prequel trilogy for no reason other than to sound cool and cryptic.

Anyway. We FINALLY reached the first puzzle! Yayyyyy… oh, dear.

So, uh… You know what? I think I will leave the actual puzzle for another time. This post has already been WAY longer than I anticipated and I am exhausted x’D I would rather go back to it with a clearer mind rather than rush it.

And that is all! Just getting to the first puzzle has been quite the adventure, and trying to keep track of so many languages at once made things even worse. To be honest, in the future I will probably drop all languages other than Japanese and US + UK, including dropping French despite the fact that it is my mother language, because searching through the files is not a short task… and because I did not even get to show them here at all anyway, so this was pretty much extra work for nothing.

I guess I will go back to them one day if I ever make my archiving work public, but that will be the question for another time. For now, the website I made for CV is for local use only, because uploading it and its assets would be quite the hassle (not to mention “arguably illegal…?” I have no idea here).

In either case, the Italian, Spanish and German versions are certain to be dropped when I will move to other games. The European version of Curious Village contains the data for all languages at once, but starting from Diabolical Box onwards, this will no longer be the case; so unless I were to get the roms for all EU languages each time, I wouldn’t be able to do the datamining if I wanted to.

Still, speaking of languages! There is one last thing I would like to share, and that is a thorough comparison between the US and UK versions. Here goes!

The differences are either nonexistent or subtle most of the time, but as we can see, there are a few differences still. So… Should I refer to the US and UK versions as two different languages? One language and a half? Eh. Who knows. I have been treating them as two entirely separate languages so far, just to be thorough.

« Introduction || Masterlist || Next (coming soon!) »

#professor layton #lutiasplays #pl theory board #professor layton transcript

[andywinter16]

FFXV and Assassin´s Creed AU

This AU is for @versusthirteen. Don´t worry, I will write the bickering fic just need some time (lot of time, because the other asks that I need to post first). But instead have some of my quick headcanons when the two worlds collide :) (I have some more, If you wanted?)

--

Due to Isu and Astrals shenaningas Noctis with boys ended in other dimension. With their luck, in middle of assault on the assassins. Noctis uses his powers which reacts even more violently in this world. “ Who the hell are you, dudes?” said man with white hood, while covering. “Well, I am -” Gladio turns his head “ Less talking Noct, more fighting.” Desmond and others took boys with them to their hideout, even if Lucy and Shaun were mistrusting at first. 

- there is so many questions about their origin and powers, it was intimidating 

- Noct showed them his arminger “ That is remarkable! Becca, do you think we could replicate something like that?” “ Shaun, I am tech not a damn magician.” “ But with the right equiptment and Isu artefact, it could be possible, no?” Lucy said thoughtfully.

- Ignis ultimately wins them with his cooking. “ Pardon me, but you can´t seriously eat fast food all the time, right?” Becca repairing computer answered. “ Not all the time, we also have some energy bars.” Needless to say, Ignis was horrified. He prepared for all of them 5 course meal. “Ignis, you are the best cook ever, aren´t you in need for a wife?” “ Or husband, If you swing that way.”

-  Ignis and Shaun bicker with each other like a married couple. They even had a three hour debate about “Why is tea better than your stinky muddy coffee, Scientia.” “ I would rather drink mine than your tasteless dry leafes with hot water, Hastings.” IT.WAS.SCARY.

- Desmond thinks of Noctis and Prompto as younger brothers that he never had, of course they are his partners in crime (Wish he could intruduce them to Clay, who would also loved them)

- Lucy shares with them the three tenets of assassins:  Stay one's blade from the flesh of the innocent; draw not attention to oneself whenever possible; and never compromise the brotherhood. “In other words” Des joined in the conversation,” don´t stabby stab wrong people, be good at hide and seek and bros before corruption.”

- “ Hey, Becca, Des wanna hear a joke?” “ Sure, sunshine.”  “ Hit us with it, Prompt.”  “ Okie dokie, do you know without what you can´t spell assassin? “ Lucy, Shaun, Ignis and Gladio side-eyeing him. “Without what Prompt?” inquired Noct. “ Obviously, without ass, sass and sin.” “ And I have all of it!” exclaimed Des. “ Desmond, bloody hell!”

- Rebecca shows boys her “Baby”, which are impressed with her skills. Prompto is allowed to help her.

- Gladio is jogging every morning with the girls. He´s being very supportive and shares fitness tips

- But boys weren´t the only one, who was accidentaly send to this dimension ...

“Oh, well hello there, young man! What a nice abodement you have here.”

Daniel is shocked and pulls out a gun. “ Who the fuck are you!?” The man before him looked so real, was the Bleeding effect kicking in again?

“Now now, young man. Why such animosity? I believe we can fix each other problems.” 

Daniel´s eyebrow quirks. “ What problem?” “ Oh, isn´t that obvious? You´re looking for some trouble maker named Desmond, correct? I can help you find him, but I also want something in return. A little service of gratitude, so to speak.”

Daniel studied the man´s face. He didn´t trust him, but he would lie if he said he wasn´t intrigued. “For the record, I don´t trust you. But I am kinda impressed you´ve got through our security.” which would be fired, when he wraps it up here, “ but I am not the one who you should ask for favour, If if it turns out that you are valuable asset.” 

“ Oh my, so guarded. But believe me, you´re not gonna regret it.” 

The man smiled creepily. Daniel shivered at that. He had unshaky feeling that he just get into some clusterfuck. 

 The man tips his hat.“ Oh, but where are my manners! Let me introduce to you, my name is Ardyn Izunia.” 

Please, read this in Ardyn´s voice. It gets much better XD

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #assassin's creed #isu and astrals magical bullshit #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #ardyn izunia #Desmond miles #lucy stillman #rebecca crane #shaun hastings #Daniel Cross #mentioned clay kaczmarek #AWWW ALL MY BABIES TOGETHER

[greypetrel]

12, 16, and 18 for the Choose Violence ask game c:< (tis an evil smiley)

Here, take a torch to point down your chin as well, let's do an evil laughter together! C:<

With a change of program: we'll have 8 instead of 12 as per request!

Tis the ask game

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

*cracks knuckles*

Merrill is all but unsure of herself and weak. All she doubts about herself is how unprepared she is in an environment that is new. after her personal quest... She never doubts her ideals and her actions. She just regrets that it was all taken so badly by the clan and that they didn't listen. She doesn't regret one single choice she made. She doubts, it, yes! She doubt she should have stayed with the clan, in a world that's more familiar even if she wasn't happy! But repairing the mirror? Communicating with the demon? No. She doesn't blame herself because she's sure in the fact that "EVERY knowledge must be preserved, even the dangerous one" that's what she moves for. That is never put in doubt.

Morrigan never betrayed anyone. Solas betrays you, meaning that he used you, even regretting it, even if he didn't want to, and you couldn't do anything about it because you didn't know it was him all along until the very end. Morrigan asks you if you want to go on with the Ritual. You can say no and she will protest because she doesn't want you to die... But will not insist and force you to do it. It's not a betrayal.

The Arbor Wilds had some great potential. The quest was written badly and by all means there should have been more dialogue options for a Lavellan. Morrigan should have explained her reasons better, and it would have been possible to make her drink from the Well in a way that could be acceptable for a Lavellan. It was poorly done, but the ideas weren't half bad. Luckily there's fanfiction to correct everything.

Sera is creepy and nasty. No, not at all. She is abrasive and will restore to violence? Sure. But if you take your time to actually listen to her and take her seriously and don't diminish her, she's one of the most caring characters in game. (it's easy to miss... Just as it's easy to miss Vivienne being caring.)

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

I hate the star-crossed lovers theme with a passion if it's not done exceptionally well and with strong motivations.

I have a 30 pages dissertation ready to be exposed with a passion every time someone tells me the name of the play, against Romeo and Juliet.

I hate the Romeo and Juliet trope, always had, the only one I like is West Side Story, and because Maria doesn't die in the end (spoiler?).

I never could bear with it, the moment you give me a "We love each other but we cannot be together :<" my eyes roll in the back of my head.

I also stand VERY little the trope that love is the ultimate saving grace, it will be the cure for everything, going from loneliness to mental illnesses and child trauma. ... I wish it could be so, but from a person with child trauma that lead to mental illness, I can positively tell you that it can't. It's a help, sure! But if it's the only thing keeping your character tethered to reality... Yeah, it's not the story for me and I will read that love story as mildly abusive.

(I wouldn't want to be the only reason to live of the person I like, nobody should.) (Mo you managed this greatly in Wander, let me tell you.)

I also personally struggle, characterization-wise, with darker Cullens (...That man FUMBLES, come on let him be awkward).

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Him. Give me more Felix content. More Felix for everyone. Bring more Felix in your life.

I can't wait to see Tevinter if you couldn't tell.

Also how Dorian fucking invented time travelling and... THE APPLICATION. Maybe that spell could be modified.

Also how if your Inky is a Knight Enchanter and in a good relationship to Dorian... They worked together in developing the Haste and Disruption Field. They got two twin spells. Aisling and Dorian totally did, the twinsies.

#ask game #choose violence ask game #dragon age #merrill #morrigan #cullen rutherford #sera #felix alexius #dorian pavus #forever in merrill and felix defense squad

[snow-system-wol]

An assessment of one Warrior of Light, upon first actual meeting, from the esteemed Emet-Selch.

(A fun short thing that may end up needing to be changed after EnW. Hm. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Ao3

 

You cannot deny that you are curious. What you shall deny, wholeheartedly, is to what extent that runs and directions you may go with it. Oh, yes, you are curious about this vaunted Hero of the Source that has so antagonized your colleagues – in so much as one could be curious about such a simple creature, a mortal man.

You are curious because of the potential directions your plans could go, of course, now that the quickest and easiest road has been denied. There are many paths forward, all hinging on how this Warrior responds to the remaining Lightwardens. Would he handle one, two, three more before it was too much? If he could hold onto all five and not crack, what might you be able to do to tip the scales in your favor? It promises to be interesting, if nothing else.

You'd love to convince yourself that that's all this is, but – you don't really need to go introduce yourself, do you? You could've taken his measure a myriad other ways, continued to watch very closely without his knowing, but that isn't what you're doing right now. No, you've instead decided to put yourself in his presence, in plain sight.

Ah, well… mostly in his presence. You can see from your illusion’s perspective and he can see you, so it is really mostly the same as actually standing there in front of him, yes?

Of course, he regards you so suspiciously even before you give your name… how very unfriendly this supposedly kind Warrior is – you could call him something else, other than Warrior, but you don't truly need to acknowledge that you know his name. Warrior, among other things, would suffice.

There are others there with him, though you care rather less about them. That Elezen was clever, but perhaps to the point of stealing your limelight. And the Hyur – you'd rather he let the Warrior respond to you, thank you very much. It is still a good initial conversation, to watch and see what they could possibly make of your offer of cooperation.

You are not fooling yourself very well, try as you might. You know why you've chosen to speak with him as… almost yourself, why you've chosen to set yourself on the path of intentionally spending more time with him. It's because of… them. You want to see whether this Warrior is actually –

Really, it is just a quirk of coincidence, of you becoming slightly delusional after all these years. The hair, yes, something about the face, yes, the gentle affection and fierce protectiveness he regards his companions with (not you of course)... But everything else is all wrong. The Warrior may somehow feel like Azem, but he is not them. The hair is not truly correct, a similar pink but a different fade. The green eyes are not a perfect match, you just know. And, of course, they'd not had those ridiculous ears or tail either.

Those physical misalignments are not really the most important parts, though, if you can admit that. It's their spirit and sense of self. You see it when he laughs with those white haired twins. You see it when he returns the grateful smiles of those around the Crystarium he helps with the most mundane tasks. You see it in the way he seems absolutely bloody incapable of turning away if someone is in danger. You see it in the determined set of his jaw as he makes choices that may well spell the end of their life, facing it with a stubborn determination that bordered on self-sacrificial –

Damn it all.

You'd hoped talking to him would make any of it more sensible. It only makes it worse. You stride towards him, still a ways off, and after a few steps he flinches back so obviously that it nearly throws off your entire monologue. The angry set of his jaw doesn't match the exhausted fear in his eyes, and you are forced to acknowledge the things you'd been ignoring in your desperation.

As much as many of the traits you'd noticed were so very Azem, some key things were just… missing. They'd always been so happy, so good at keeping up a carefree energy, so freely giving with their physical affection – you'd call it a nuisance, if you could possibly pretend you disliked it.

This Warrior is rather the opposite of those things.

He is afraid, you can see it. He hates to be touched, even by those he is closest with, he is so clearly haunted by wounds both fresh and very old. The Warrior emits a bone-deep exhaustion and a soul-deep despair. He won't look people in the eye very often, he flinches if any of the taller Scions draw near, his gaze grows distant when he thinks no one is looking, and you, quite frankly, do not know how you are meant to react to that.

A part of you wants to be angry for what's so clearly been done to him – but that anger comes from imagining him as someone he is not. If someone had ever laid a hand on Azem… but they would surely never have allowed such a thing to happen in the first place, not as powerful as they were. No, the remainder of you simply feels anger at him for being such a poor mockery of your memories, just close enough to be cruel.

You try to dismiss these thoughts. This Sundered world is fundamentally broken, it should be of no surprise for any shadow of your Azem to be so broken as well.

(But then why does it still hurt to see?)

#snow-system #ffxiv-oc #ffxiv-reactions #s'ria 🌸❄️ #writings #ah the fun and arrogance of it all #as if S'ria is personally doing this to him

[essektheylyss]

I got to thinking about the saddest possible implication of the phrase "Eventually there's only one left," which is the fact that of all of the wizards in campaign 2, Essek will very likely be the last one left alive, so I wrote a gen-fic lifespan angst thing. Very short, a little bittersweet. Maybe just sad? I dunno. Enjoy, but with the understanding that it's exactly what it says on the tin.

(read on ao3)

—

It is, well, strange to be sorting through a mage's things. He has only done this once before, and then it had been much of his own items, research—then he had known the nooks and crannies of the house, had poured over many of the books and papers that were not his own when he read aloud in substitute for failing eyes.

Now, this is a hollow cavity of a space, so unknown to him it might as well be empty, and he doesn't know quite where to start.

The apprentice had approached him, at the tail end of the wake, a rather strange mix of celebratory and solemn for the mage of the Open Quay as they had given him a sea burial. The apprentice had approached Essek as he watched the boat set alight against the dark winter sky, the clouds such a deep blue at the tail end of the afternoon's monsoon that it seemed they reflected the sea, not the other way around.

He had wondered for a split second how the apprentice had recognized him, but then he'd caught the slight glint of a spell on the glasses she wore. In this tower now, he wonders whether they had been left with the will purely for the purpose of recognizing the primary beneficiary.

"From the master," the young half-orc had murmured, and passed him a piece of paper written in elegant writing that he recognized.

He reads it again now, standing in the entryway. Instructions for entering, when not given access, and passing safely through the wards that sprung into being upon the death of the master of the house. Details of what has been left to the apprentice, and what has been left to Essek.

Yes, it is strange to receive such an inheritance, especially when he does not feel particularly as though the name on the paper is correct.

Surely, the man had others to bequeath such things to.

And yet a name that should be lost to time is written in Yussa Errenis's hand, clear as a Rosohna night.

He sighs, and reads the paper again, though he has read it enough times that he's committed it to memory. He does not have the power of recall that others long passed have been blessed with, but this sticks in his mind thanks to pure rote.

He tucks the paper away.

—

When the Lavorre woman passes, he has to count back through the gravestones to remember how many generations it has been. Seven, by this point, and all of them beginning to blur together.

He is not so old as he sometimes feels, and not so young as he expected to seem, had his life stayed upon the track it had been set upon in his youth.

He hasn't considered calling upon his mother in centuries, and yet he stands in a cemetery in the Menagerie Coast and wonders if that wouldn't be preferable to this, if a place in such a family wouldn't remind him how young he might be made to feel.

Caduceus has always lumbered, rarely hurried, but now his movements have been made particularly languid with age. As he offers an arm and the old firbolg takes it, he feels lighter again, and the sudden shift in gravity in his mind is a form of vertigo.

It is strange, to think of how time realigns depending on who he is standing next to, sending the fabric of the world rippling.

"I thought the speech was a bit long," Caduceus remarks wryly, and Essek laughs in spite of himself at the dark game the two of them have taken to playing, when they meet again under circumstances like this. It is often the only circumstance they meet under anymore.

"Yes, rather overwrought, but Leysa has always taken after the dramatic side of her family."

Caduceus snorts. Weighing Essek's arm down, they pick slowly around the headstones. "There's a side of her family that's not dramatic?"

All of the generations blur, perhaps, but this is a point that Essek has to concede as he tries to conjure up anyone he has known in their family tree without a penchant for drama.

"You should come by the Grove sometime," Caduceus continues kindly, once the silence has lingered. "Clarabelle would love to see you."

He has not been to the Grove in quite some time. He wonders how the Clay family make do, outliving so many they have known and living in the eternal reminder of it.

He wonders how he would've liked to stay in the Dynasty, knowing that all of those around him had already lived centuries longer than he will ever see, that they would still think him young when he finally dies of old age.

He wonders what kind of tragedy his mother speaks of if she ever invokes his name.

"I will see if I can make the time," he answers finally, and he thinks by this point that he may be a liar seasoned enough that Caduceus does not catch it.

—

There is a mage being buried in Blumenthal the day the port of Port Damali takes to the sky.

He does not attend the departure of the first floating city Exandria has seen in over a millennium and a half, though he had been invited by virtue of his work on the gravitational mechanisms and the earnest insistence of a halfling with an echo of Veth Brenatto's grin. Instead he goes to see the dirt fill the freshly-dug grave in the town's small cemetery, a humble resting place for a renowned mage, but she is not the first renowned mage to will their body to this earth.

Most of the bushes that dot the green are flowering by now, and he leaves the mound of dirt to meander along the rows as the crowd disperses. The sun is unforgiving, but he bears it beneath a guise and dark glasses.

The glasses are as much for sight as they are to stave off the light, now.

The Dynasty does not have any concept of an afterlife, so he has attempted to synthesize one from the customs of the cultures of his friends, too many of them born and passed now. Perhaps he has already passed the point at which he has lost more people than he still has left to meet.

The woman buried beneath the fresh earth behind him remains still in his mind as a rash youth with a competitive streak and a penchant for ignoring her teacher's wisdom in favor of her own experimentation, like a double exposure over the old woman at whose deathbed he had sat a week before.

He stands over a well-worn stone, dotted with poppies, and says, "Take care of her for me, will you? I think the two of you will get along well."

He doesn't need to ask, nor does he anticipate an answer, but he stands there for a long time before vanishing from the spot as though he was never there, feeling more of a ghost than those buried beneath the soil.

#critical role #cr fic #essek thelyss #editing these tags to say that literally right after I posted this I got an email blast from the library about it being make-a-will month #which was very unsettling timing but it did make me feel supported in my writing interests so it's fine it's cool #hope everyone's enjoying thinking about mortality during this fine make-a-will month