#collecting useless posts like trinkets
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does anyone else have an obsession tvtropes.com and spends hours clicking around? i had nothing better to do so i gathered a few tropes that either go well with byler (and the love triangle) narrative, are similar to what they have going on in the show or would make sense for their storyline in the future :)<3
Just Friends
The force with which the two deny any feelings is always inversely proportional to the truth. Just Friends is in essence, a relationship, a potential relationship or teased relationship between people who are simply Just Friends, in a normal, and regular manner. When a character uses the line "We're Just Friends" but no one seems to believe them, this is likely to be the trope involved.
Will They or Won't They? (they even have a murray quote about j/opper in there!)
Two characters, often combative but with obvious Unresolved Sexual Tension, resist going into a full blown relationship for a rather long time. Usually the two characters will be presented so that "they will" is the conclusion to root for; only rarely is the question of whether the writers think they should in any real doubt.
They Do
Will They or Won't They? They will, and They Do.
The conclusion of a Romance Arc with a Happy Ending. The point where we are finally done with breakups, misunderstandings, and second thoughts. If the story is done with them, they live Happily Ever After. If it isn't, when the rest of it happens to them, they'll have each other. Give them enough time, and they'll likely be Happily Married by then.
Love Epiphany
When a character realizes they are in love with another character. This is not when the character confesses this love to that other character or anyone else, but when the character realizes it themselves. Often this can be when a character had feelings already and realized this has blossomed into love, or when a character has been in denial about these feelings until this moment.
Love Revelation Epiphany (will's paiting revelation, anyone?)
Two characters have had some sort of Ship Tease, but there's no sign of it progressing to a Relationship Upgrade. Likely, one character will have feelings for the other but are resigned to All Love Is Unrequited — until the other character somehow hears (from another person directly or indirectly or from a Love Confession) they have feelings for them. They're shocked. All of a sudden, they begin to look at the other character differently, resulting in them beginning to have feelings, too! We all want to be loved after all, and someone loving you is a very attractive trait.
Mutually Unequal Relation aka: Mutually Unequal Relationship (mlvn)
Two (or more) characters have entirely different ideas on how they are perceived by each other. Can lead to Cringe Comedy when the truth gets out or could alternatively be Played for Drama.
Moment Killer (aka jonathan)
It's really going to happen this time. They are about to share their feelings with each other after years of keeping them hidden. They come closer together and look into each other's eyes; there has never been a moment so perfect. The stars are aligned, the moon is full and one of them says, "I've never had the courage to tell you this before..." Then her brother walks into the room, asking if she wants pepperoni or ham on her pizza. Or his/her best friend walks through the door, wanting to talk to them, which sometimes may be an emergency. Or the house phone rings or one of their cellphones rings, ruining the moment. "Ugh!" is their reply, echoed by all of the fans. Whatever was there has been shot down dead. They lost the spirit of the moment and it will likely be a long time before they can get it back. After witnessing their frustrated anger, the brother then asks, "Is this a bad time?"
Hopeless Suitor
This is Triang Relations #4: a character who has a crush on someone who's already engaged in (at least potential) Shipping with someone else.
Childhood Friend Romance aka: Victorious Childhood Friend
Childhood Friend Romance is a part of romantic plots, when characters develop romantic feelings for someone who they spent their childhood years with.
Often the pair will see each other as Just Friends (and may even deny accusations that they might have a different type of relationship); then, when puberty hits or when they meet again after being apart for some time, they will realize that the other is all grown up.
I Want My Beloved to Be Happy
A bittersweet trope where Alice loves Bob but realizes that a relationship between them cannot happen, so she decides to put Bob's happiness above her own. Accordingly, she abandons her claim to Bob and encourages him to move on and live his own life, even if that means watching (or even supporting) a relationship between Bob and someone else.
Act of True Love
The Act of True Love proves beyond doubt that you are ready to put your loved one's interests before your own, that you are truly loyal and devoted to them. Usually this involves a sacrifice on your part, at the very least a considerable effort and/or a great risk. The action must be motivated, not by morals or principle or expectation of future reward, but by sheer personal affection. When your beloved is in dire need of your help, or in great danger, and you do something, at great expense to yourself, for the sake of their safety, their welfare, or their happiness, thus proving beyond any doubt that you put their interest ahead of yours.
Love Makes You Crazy
Being in love can cause a person to behave strangely and irrationally, a tendency which is often exaggerated in television and film. Usually played for laughs in Sitcoms and anime, it can be used as a motivation for villainous (or at least uncharacteristic) behavior in more serious stories. However, it can also result in behaviors that are presented as being noble, though unusual.
Went Crazy When They Left
This is when a character leaves/abandons someone that they were close to, maybe out of an obligation, personal reasons, or not by their own choice.note Maybe a character is a Living Emotional Crutch or a Morality Chain to them. Maybe they have implied romantic feelings for them. Maybe they were a pair of True Companions, or family. In some cases, the person left behind may not even have realized their feelings until the other left.
Belated Love Epiphany
You never know what you've got until it's gone. There are some people that we hate, feel indifferent to, or just don't feel like being around. But we're stuck with them, so we muddle through and put up with them because there's nothing we can do about it. Then, that person is suddenly out of our lives. Great, right? Wrong. For some reason, you take their absence a lot harder than you expected to. It's not until they're gone that you start to like them. Maybe you've become so used to their little quirks you can't imagine your life without them. Or maybe you realize that they're the best thing to ever happen to you. Whatever the case, you realize too late that you actually love them.
I Will Find You
A quite common variant of The Quest, this plot has two people who have become separated by fate or circumstance, and thus cannot be together. One or both will try to search for the other, promising that they will never stop until they have reunited with their loved one.
Unreliable Narrator
In most narratives, there's an element of trust that the person telling you the story is telling the truth, at least as far as they know it. This trope occurs when that convention is discarded. The narrator's facts contradict each other. If you ask them to go back a bit and retell it, the events come out a little differently. It can be like dealing with a used-car salesman — there's a real story in there somewhere, but you're left to piece it together through all the lies, half-truths, and mistruths.
Color Motif
For many years, artists and interior designers have understood that certain colors can provoke specific emotional and sometimes physiological reactions. Within a certain culture, you can be fairly certain that most of the audience will react predictably to certain colors. A motif is a recurring element within a work, so a color motif is obviously a recurring color within the work. The color may be associated with a character, place, feeling, timeframe, or even the work overall.
One True Love
The most indomitable of romantic ideals is the idea of one utter perfect specimen who is your ultimate match. Perhaps they will have everything in common with you and share your dreams. Perhaps they will be your Foil because True Love is Exceptional. A third possibility is Mindlink Mates leading the two of them to understand each other better than anyone else. [...] The main difference between a standard Official Couple and a One True Love is in how each partner views the other. While an Official Couple simply needs to be a canon pairing between two characters, a One True Love also requires a canon couple to view each other as their be-all, end-all soulmate with no romantic interest in anyone else once the pair gets together.
Electric Love
This trope appears in romantic works, and is featured prominently in Young Adult Literature fiction novels. The touch of a love interest will either literally or metaphorically feel like a shock of electricity.
Gray Rain of Depression
A type of Empathic Environment, commonly used to indicate that a character is depressed, disappointed, or just plain sad. The rain is often called on to exaggerate their mood depending on how sad they are, or if their character is always like that, then this means that they're expressing true sadness for the first time.
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A Lovesick Leviathan
Male Leviathan x Gender Neutral Slime Reader
(CW: Painless noncon, inhuman reader, size difference, kidnapping, magical branding, temporarily frozen reader, general yandere behavior, minor character death, extreme violence towards minor character)
Word count: 3.3k
(Piece developed with a lot of input and help from @maxog3n, they also did the amazing art posted with this piece. I am sorry this took so long, but really hope you all enjoy it.)
Screams of pain, some ominous cracking sounds, and then silence.
Auggie let out a defeated sigh as he peeled the body of the human he had just fucked to death off of his cock, their pulverized insides mixed with his blue cum and leaking out everywhere.
Like the others that had died to his amorous pursuits, he hadn’t meant to kill them. In fact, he had loved each one of them and wanted them to be his mate. He carefully determined a suitable candidate, brought them home against their will, and eventually couldn’t contain his lust anymore and fucked them.
The problem was that he was not human. He was a leviathan and his massive member was simply too huge, both long and thick, and his thrusts were powerful. None survived even a single round with him.
He shed a tear as he buried his latest victim.
Then he wiped it away and immediately regained his usual jovial composure. That’s okay, they just weren’t “the one”. He had to expect these kinda snags every now and then if he was going to put himself out on the market.
It was just how dating worked.
Auggie decided that he needed to clear his mind and leave his shack for a while. Get some fresh air. Maybe he would add to his collection of items. Much like a mermaid, leviathans like him hoarded trinkets and baubles.
He made the decision to hit up the old abandoned building a few miles up the coast from his seaside abode. He did not know what the building had once been for, but he was very adventurous and was always looking for new stuff to add to his collection of treasures or materials to extend his shack with.
The leviathan definitely didn’t feel like going into town. Sure, the humans all fled and he could take whatever he wanted, but he did not want to deal with the panicked screams. Plus, he had already done that a dozen times, he wanted to explore somewhere new. And besides, the town was a lot farther than the abandoned facility and he didn’t feel like being out too late. Not with the long he had.
Auggie left the confines of his ramshackle house, and waded into the water, the blood from his previous “mate” leaving a faint trail of blood behind him as he swam up the coast towards his destination.
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
You were thrilled, your home was finally starting to feel cozy. Or whatever passed as cozy for a saltwater slime.
Spending all your life in the water just did not appeal to you, the surface was just so fascinating. You had spent a little time among some open-minded humans, but you longed to be closer to the sea.
So when you found a brine filled desalination plant completely abandoned for you to do with as you pleased you knew you had found a home from which you could explore the surrounding land and retreat to should the need arise.
It had taken a while, a little over a month, for you to tidy the place up and get things how you liked it. You had decorated the place with seashells, dead corals, and current smoothed glass to make everything feel more natural. You had even covered the first floor with a thick layer of sand!
Everything was perfect.
Just when you were admiring the work you had finally completed when you heard the stomping of a large animal of some type approaching.
You peered out the window and gasped.
A huge… thing… approached.
You had no idea what he could be. You only assumed it was a he because of the giant uncut cock flopping from below the most tiny and useless loincloth imaginable.
The lumbering behemoth had a chubby build, striking blue skin, scales from his ankles to his knees and from his wrists to his elbows, he had fins where a human’s ears would be, sharp teeth, and his dark medium length hair wasn’t hair at all, but instead a writing mass of tentacles.
He came closer and closer to the desalination facility, your home, it was clear it was his intent to enter and not just pass by like you had hoped.
The best option was to hide yourself. Luckily you were crystal clear, like gooey water, and could camouflage yourself easily.
There were many steel barrels along the wall to catch water from a sometimes leaky roof, you decided to hop in, even if he peeped in all you would just blend right in with the water that was in it.
Seconds after you got in you heard the door creak open.
Auggie took a few steps in and looked around the place, getting a handle of his surroundings.
The place had sand everywhere. And dried corals, shells, and smooth glass everywhere. Odd. It clearly wasn’t as abandoned as it had appeared to be from outside.
Maybe there was a potential mate here! If he wanted to find his soul mate he knew he had to be open minded about finding his partner wherever they may happen to meet.
And whoever called this place home had an aesthetic he enjoyed. They lived in a run down building not entirely unlike his shack, they were opportunistic like he was and they decorated the place to be like the ocean from which he originated.
He was sure he would get along well with whoever lived here.
You could not see him from your current position in the barrel, but you could hear him walking around and sniffing as if hunting for something.
Auggie explored every nook and cranny, using his sensitive nose to guide him, but even though it was clear as day that someone was using this as a home he could detect no scent other than that of saltwater.
Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to return to his original mission, seeking out trinkets for his treasure hoard and possibly materials to build with.
He found some rope and used it to tie some sheets of metal to his back, but other than that he hadn’t found much for his home. Carrying these he wouldn’t be able to swim back, he’d have to walk back at a leisurely pace.
Auggie started to head towards the doors to leave, as he did you heard the sound of his footsteps retreating and were so relieved.
But it was premature, he was disappointed in his haul so he took one last glance around the room just in case he missed something. He spied some pristine barrels in the corner. He could always use a nice new barrel!
The giant invader found one that was full of water, likely from that storm last night, it was pretty hot and since he had to walk back a refreshing splash of water would be nice and cooling should he need it on the return trip home.
You panicked as you and the water around you sloshed as he picked up the container that was currently serving as your hiding place. But your only option was to remain hidden for as long as you possibly could and make a break for it when you could.
Despite not having a traditional stomach you still felt very nauseous at being jostled with every step your unwitting kidnapper made. With how you were disoriented, you could not even give an accurate estimate of how long you had been in your current predicament, what was probably just thirty or forty minutes felt like unending hours.
Finally the moving about came to a stop, maybe he was home, maybe he would leave the container outside to use for water collection, you dared to hope. But these hopes were short lived as the behemoth lifted the container up and poured it over himself to cool off, causing you to tumble out in your default humanoid shape and reflexively grab on to whatever you could to prevent falling.
Whatever you could grab was the man who invaded your home, your gel-like arms around his broad shoulders.
You stared at each other for a moment until Auggie got a slight blush that was quickly replaced by a huge grin, revealing two rows of razor sharp teeth.
A brand new romantic interest just fell right into his lap! Well, you weren’t on his lap yet, but there would be time for that soon enough.
When you had recovered from the shock of being dumped directly on to this strange blue man you pushed yourself off of him and fell to the ground with a wet plop.
You started running.
“Hey wait! That’s really rude! I haven’t decided if I’m your boyfriend yet!!!”
What the hell was wrong with this guy? You heard him utter some strange mystic sounding words before hearing an odd whoosh and suddenly you felt indescribably heavy. Your vision frosted over and you fell over. Hard.
Everything was so cold, you couldn’t move at all! You had been completely frozen, evidently this crazy man had ice magic. Just your luck.
“Don’t worry, I am pretty sure I will be your boyfriend! I liked all the décor in your former home. We have so much more in common than the people I normally date!”
He walked up to you slowly, picked you up carefully, and then placed you back in the barrel he had been unwittingly hauling you in.
This manner of being handled was… humiliating to say the least.
Once again you were jostled around in the barrel, now without water and with more pain in your newly acquired solidified form. It was so restrictive. You were used to being more free moving than what a solid being was capable of and now here you were completely paralyzed.
Once again, the trip felt like it was taking an eternity. Except now it was worse, as every second was punctuated by the deep seated fear of what may become of you when the journey ended.
You also were forced to contend with the large man’s non-stop talking.
“I’m Auggie! I am so glad we met. I think it was probably fate. Like we were meant to find each other! I haven't met many slimes before. Only a couple times when swimming and I couldn’t see them well enough in the water to bring them back to date…”
You tuned Auggie out after a while. He just wouldn’t stop talking about how happy he was and how he had been in need of a new partner.
Finally you thawed out enough to talk, though you were still too stiff to move quickly.
“What is wrong with you!? We are NOT dating!!”
“Oh~ You have such a lovely voice! I am so happy to hear it. We are definitely dating now so I can hear you talk everyday~”
He hummed happily as he continued about his merry way, leaving your objection completely unacknowledged.
“Excuse me!? I just said we are NOT dating!!”
Though the words he spoke were… demented… he said them in the same happy go lucky jovial tone with which he had been speaking, “Don’t be silly, of course we are. I already was sure I would like you based on your home and with us both being sea critters, but after hearing your voice I simply can’t be without you~ I am so sorry if I implied you have a choice!”
After letting out a defeated whimper you went silent.
Auggie continued babbling about all the stuff the two of you would do together. As your destination approached he started running, he was just so eager to get you nice and settled in your brand new home.
You grunted in annoyance as you were bounced about in your glorified bucket.
“Oh. Heh heh. Sorry, I just got carried away.”
He slowed down to a brisk walk the rest of the way.
“We’re here!” He shouted in a chipper manner. For a totally psychotic kidnapper hellbent on forcing you to be in a relationship he sure was cheerful.
The barrel was placed down with a thud before he pulled you out. You were thawed to the point of being like a slurry and his warm hands felt rather nice.
Though you’d still rather be anywhere else.
You saw his home and were shocked, how could anyone live in something like this? It was a towering mass of junk. Large slabs of metal and wood cobbled together. It was actually kinda impressive how structurally sound it appeared to be despite the building materials used in its construction.
Auggie slung your chilled form over his shoulders without warning, eliciting a startled sound from you.
He opened the doors and set you down on a rugged chair that was clearly meant for beings around your size. Humans.
How many people had been forced to accept Auggie as their “boyfriend”. Were you going to die here?
You took stock of your surroundings, if you were ever going to escape you would need to know potential weapons, escape routes, and hiding places.
But honestly you didn’t even know where to start, the building was huge as it was meant for such a large being like Auggie. And it seemed like he had the same inclinations as mermen when it came to collecting objects of interest. Though instead of valuables like coins, gems, and shells Auggie seemed to be interested in… a different sort of collection.
Mounted on the wall as if some sort of poster was a set of doors that read “Tony’s Bar and Bistro”. Standing in the corner was a surfboard that looked as if a bite had been taken out of it with a lifebuoy around it. Other items strewn about the place included a slot machine, street signs, and a child’s tricycle.
There were random items in all sorts of places.
The ceiling was no exception. Hanging upside down from the ceiling, above even Auggie’s head, were several random and out of place items. Though the strangest of all was a… parking meter? You couldn’t be sure, you had only stealthily visited a human city a couple times.
None of this stuff helped you though, and it seemed the only way out was through the large front door.
Without any warning Auggie crouched down in front of you and stared intensely with a smug grin.
“I bet right now you are thinking of ways to leave aren’t cha? Without even giving our love a chance! Don’t worry I will take the burden of worrying about freedom away!”
He held his webbed pointer finger to your chest and muttered a complex incantation. You didn’t notice it before but he had a tattoo in the shape of a trident on his thigh, it glowed with a blue light as he uttered his spell and suddenly you had a matching tattoo marked on your chest.
It didn’t harm you at all, but his wicked grin coupled with the mark’s magical origins worried you.
“Wh-what’s that…?”
“Do you like it? It’s my brand! It means you’re alllll mine~”
You gave a face of disgust.
“It’s okay if you don’t believe it yet, some people are just slower learners. That’s okay.”
Your only reply was to glare at him silently.
“You’re never leaving me.”
You chose to just keep shooting him an angry look. It didn’t matter what he thought, you would slip away at the first opportunity. You were a slime, slippery and versatile, there were very few ways you could be contained long term. And he couldn’t just keep re-freezing you every single time you bolted.
“Haha, what? Don’t believe me dummy? Okay then… go ahead…”
With a smirk he got up and went to the door, holding it wide open for you.
“Go on, leave.”
He gestured you out the door and you didn’t hesitate, maybe he thought he could freeze you, or close the door, or push you back somehow, but were prepared for anything. You were positive that the smug expression was wiped from his face as you took on a taller and slimmer shape and zipped on by before he could react.
You got maybe all of 15ft. away from the shack before you were yanked back by some invisible force and landed on the ground.
“What th-”
You heard the heavy footsteps of your captor approach from behind.
“Have you caught on yet cutie? I told you, you’re allll mine~ My little mark on you ties you to me, you will never be able to go very far.”
For the first time that day you truly felt despair. The thought you could get away was the sole barrier that had prevented you from giving in to the filling of hopelessness that now threatened to consume you, but that was gone now. You were left with nothing but soul crushing helplessness… that and Auggie.
He scooped you up and carried you back to his house laying you in his large and rather decadent bed, a stark contrast to the ramshackle state of the rest of his home.
Auggie stood by the bed and positioned your legs to hang off of it, you guessed at what he was planning but were too caught up in your sense of doom and despair to react properly or mount even the slightest resistance.
“Awww, don’t be sad darlin’, this’ll be fun!” He chuckled with his normal sense of joy and lack of care for what anyone else wanted.
The leviathan stroked his cock to its staggering full length and lined it up between your legs.
You did not have an entrance there. Slimes simply absorbed plankton or other nutrient sources through their membranes and deposited what was indigestible in the same manner, and there was no conventional reproductive system. Slimes of your type would meet, partially join limbs, and create an egg.
But that sure didn’t stop Auggie from penetrating you anyway.
Luckily your slime body was extremely durable and felt little pain from such actions. He slammed into you right through your membrane, gripping your sides as he pulled you down to the base. His blue precum leaked into your body, leaving blue streaks where it dissolved.
He moved you back and forth like a fleshlight, like you were just some toy for his pleasure, not a living being with your own agency.
You were entirely limp in his hands, just a nice gooey warmth around his cock, feeling neither pleasure or pain from his ever increasing thrusts.
No, as you stared up at him, being moved back and forth on his cock, the only thing you felt was an uncomfortable pressure. And an overwhelming sense of violation.
Finally he pushed in as far as he could, his dick drilling all the way into your head as he unleashed his glowing blue cum into you. He let out a relaxed sigh as his cock lay inside you throbbing, still drooling more and more seed into you from his huge nuts.
Auggie finally pulled out of you, his semen had made your entire body swell considerably and it turned you from clear and transparent to a bright and faintly glowing blue as your body absorbed it like food.
“Oooh, you took my cock so well and became even prettier! It definitely means you’re meant for me! And it looks like my cum is good food for my gooey little darling too~ Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to feed you plenty EVERY. DAY.”
Your existence as a slime, what once granted you versatility and mobility. What you considered a blessed existence better than being a restrained solid, was now the cause of your loss of any freedom.
Because now that Auggie was in love with a mate that his cock couldn’t kill he was never going to let you go.
#yandere teratophilia#yandere terato#yandere x reader#monster boyfriend#yandere monster#gender neutral reader#yandere boyfriend#male yandere#male yandere x gn reader#my ocs#My OC Auggie
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No. 50 - All Nippon Airways Airbus A380 "Flying Honu" Livery
Happy 50th Runway Runway post! I had a bit of a hard time deciding what to do for it - after all, it's a pretty significant number. I already sort of know what I want to do for the 100th post, but I hadn't put much thought into the 50th, and I had to scuttle any plans for something long and interesting after a rather stressful week. Instead I decided to do something both fun and requested!
source: ANA Stories
One (well, three!) of the most beloved special liveries out there, All Nippon Airways' turtle-themed "Flying Honu" Airbus A380. These three friendly giants fly from Japan to Honolulu, delighting anyone lucky enough to see them.
Actually, I love the Flying Honu so much I have one myself.
I would describe myself as a bit of a magpie. I collect useless things, be they historical ephemera, horror movie memorabilia, old books, pretty rocks, or way too many fountain pen inks given I mostly use them to take notes. I even have a bunch of my old teeth in a pillbox. Surprisingly, though, the things my talons have lodged in don't include many model airplanes. I have...a few. I've actually, though serendipity, gotten two more since I started this blog, expanding my collection to a startling five. Maybe seven if you count my Starscream and Brainstorm figures, but I don't think I even remember how to put either of them in their alt modes. The fact is that while they aren't a fortune or anything plane figures are expensive enough that it's a commitment to buy one, and I usually only do when I stumble on a good deal for a model I really want. And one of the few times I've actually decided that I just needed a model of a specific livery was the "Flying Honu" A380. Specifically, the one I have is the airframe registered JA382A, Kai. (She's the 1:500 JC Wings diecast model and is around the size of my hand.)
I just needed to be able to gently tap her nose in person, okay? She can't fit up on the shelf with a lot of my other miscellaneous trinkets so she sits on my desk and sometimes I explain things to her while trying to figure them out, like a coding rubber duck. She makes me happy.
All Nippon Airways (全日本空輸) is a major Japanese airline. In fact, in terms of both fleet size and number of destinations they're bigger than flag carrier JAL. They're consistently described as being among the best airlines in the world for the discerning well-to-do business traveler, and let's just say that's not me, but what I am is a reviewer of airline liveries, and ANA sure has those! In addition to their standard Triton Blue livery they do all sorts of special designs, particularly crossovers with properties like Pokémon and Star Wars. All of these are something I would like to someday feature, but none of them matter at all to me when compared to the Flying Honu, introduced with the A380 fleet in 2019.
A couple of times when I've told people I know about this livery they asked me if 'honu' is Japanese for 'turtle'. That's a reasonable question, but the Japanese word for turtle is 'kame'. 'Honu' is the word for turtle, though - in Hawaiian.
image: ANA
In fact, Honolulu is the A380s' only destination. ANA didn't really want A380s to begin with, but ended up stuck with them while acquiring another airline. The thing about the A380, and the reason it failed commercially and so few were ever built, is that the use-case for a massive plane is pretty limited. It goes as such: you have a passengerbase of people who have to travel from one giant hub that can land an A380 to another frequently enough that you can actually make money on a plane with four entire engines.
Okay, so the use-case is that you're Emirates. ANA might be expensive, but they don't really have the central location or sheer amount of regular business travelers that Dubai does. 'Three' also isn't really that many A380s, which creates a bit of a question of reliability. So instead they fixed the problem in a way that's honestly pretty genius: they made it turtles.
image: ANA
ANA seems to be generally invested in Hawaii, with a fair amount of partnerships with local organizations. A lot of Hawaiian real estate is owned by Japanese companies, and those of Japanese descent are the second-larget ethnic group in Hawaii at 16.7%, so it makes sense that a lot of people would want to travel there. Tokyo to Honolulu is a nice 9-hour flight with no possibility for a stopover of any kind (unless they invent civilian aircraft carriers for A380s), so it's the perfect route for precisely three really huge planes.
images: ANA
They can fit 520 passengers across four classes on one flight, seated across both decks of the massive planes. There is also a section of seats which convert to couches, marketed for families. Those who fly this route get to enjoy rainbow lighting and the ability to buy a duty-free 1:500 model of the plane (not the same model I have, though, I'm pretty sure) or a set of Flying Honu plushes.
Ra looks like she's plotting something. Lani looks like she's never had a single thought in her life.
And they do make money off this, because people absolutely love these planes. People have apparently had their weddings on these planes, and I would too! They make ten weekly flights right now, but in December that will be increasing to fourteen weekly, or two daily.
Okay, so, the actual liveries.
Here's Kai in full-size! The light in my room make her look way cooler toned in the photographs, but in real life she's this color. It's frequently described as 'green' or 'emerald green', but I think it's definitely turquoise and would go so far as to call it blue. Whatever the case, it's meant to represent the color of the sea near Hawaii. Kai is also distinct from the others because of her eyes, which are closed as she smiles from ear to ear. That's why she's my favorite - she just looks so happy!
...a bit weirder looking from upfront, but look how even the ventral fairing is painted! That's part of the flippers where they curl around, tucked into the shell. Unlike the Transocean Air Jinbei Jets, the cockpit windows blend in with the 'scales' of the Flying Honu, looking rather natural.
'Ra' is a beautiful orange, meant to represent the Hawaiian sunset. She has a bit of a peach undertone if you look closely, but her details are done in an extremely vivid reddish orange. Her distinguishing feature are those gigantic eyelashes, similar to Sakura Jinbei's. The actual mouth shape on all three planes appears to be the same, but I find that the eyes still give them distinct 'personalities'. Ra has always looked very thoughtful to me.
Just look at her in flight! I've never understood why people call the 747 stately or graceful, and same for the A380 - double-decker planes are just inherently goofy-looking, and that's great, but ANA managed to make one look pretty elegant. I think it's because turtles are already regarded as large and slow creatures, so fitting like for like just makes it seem as natural for this absolutely gigantic aircraft to be flying as it is for a turtle to swim.
Finally, Lani, the turtle everyone agrees to be blue, represents the Hawaiian sky during its brightest color in daylight. If you look closely, you can see her blue 'eyeshadow', which I've always thought made her look relaxed.
This picture gives a good angle of my only real critique of the Flying Honu, which is that the shells and heads don't entirely look aligned, as if the head is in the process of being retracted. That said, I think that's just a fact of working with the shape of an airplane. There's just no more space below to fit any more shell.
Rather than being just one turtle, though, each "Flying Honu" has two fully rendered baby turtles following behind their 'mother'.
I think this is adorable, and beyond that it solves a crucial problem - the tail. Turtles do have those, but not in a way that maps onto a standard empennage. Instead, ANA makes the smart choice to end the shell at a certain point and add these two extra turtles make-way-for-ducklings-ing their way across the fuselage for more visual interest, leaving the tail empty for an ANA logo without making it jarring. This is a huge improvement over the Jinbei Jets, which again serve as a point of comparison as the other major Japanese marine life planes. (Amakusa Airlines is way smaller and thus not going to get caught up in this.)
I mean, it's hard to find too much to say about these that isn't just "oh my gosh, look at them". The Flying Honu are vividly colored, with clever shapes used to make them immediately recognizable as turtles. I smile every time I see one, including the little one on my desk!
And in case you weren't already delighted, there's two extra bonus turtles!
I think it's pretty obvious I'm giving these an A+. Come on, just...just look at them. The fact that ANA bothered to make three distinct ones with their own names and faces is just icing on the cake for me, but I do love that they did.
I can't believe I didn't find a way to fit this in earlier into the post, but I really love turtles. If you have an aquarium near you, and that aquarium has turtles, I really recommend stopping by to see them. My local New England Aquarium has had Myrtle for more than 50 years. As they describe her, 'the 550-lb Queen of the Giant Ocean Tank is large, in charge, and ready to receive your adoration'.
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True to form, although a lot larger and dealing in a different type of fluid dynamics, the Flying Honu jets get plenty of my adoration too.
#tarmac fashion week#grade: a+#era: 2010s#era: 2020s#all nippon airways#aquairium#region: east asia#region: japan
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Hey, Puzz— hey!! Look OVER hERE
Get QUESTION GAUNTLET'D! ! !
• Between Buck and Davey, who's the neat freak and the messy partner of the relationship (or like. Who is. The one who. Cleans often while the other makes a mess lol)?
• How does the trio personally unwind after a long day of work?
• What's their favourite chores if they like doing em?
• Who would be most likely to get excited abt buying new sponges and dishwashing soap...... (I personally am very guilty of this LMAOOO)
• Who is most likely to impulsively buy. Things?
• Does any of the trio collect things? Ik Minnie likes animals a lot but I'm talking more of. Trinkets and stuff. And if so, what would they usually collect? (Can they show me..... /Nf)
Found myself suddenly thinking of domestic fluff for your OCs while I was washing dishes woops ehehehe. I'm also a sucker for. The mundane and the sweet little things that can happen during that 👍
THE BLORBOS FRO MY HEAD HAVE INVADED YOURS AND NOW I GET TO REAP THE BENEFITS BY TALKING ABOUT THEM ON PURPOSE!!! HAHAHA YIPEEEEEEEEEEE
Generally speaking, Buck's the neat freak of the two - Davey isn't exactly a mess by any means, but he's pretty laid-back about stuff, whereas Buck likes things A Certain Way and spends a lot of his free time on chores and tidying stuff up. (It's exactly the opposite in their workspace, though. Davey's Actually Professionally Trained and tends to try and keep tools and supplies properly cared for and sorted and such, and their tech and whatnot maintained as professionally as he can manage, whereas Buck is full. yeah yeah just slap some duct tape on that bad boy. put another fan down there to deal with that thing that keeps spewing smoke. it's fine. don't be a baby about it)
Davey's big on just putting something on TV or playing video games to unwind, as is Minnie. Buck kind of does the same, but he's more about just kind of sitting back and having something making noise in the background vs. actively watching or doing something, if that makes sense. Minnie also enjoys doing some reading (as does Buck on occasion, but to a much lesser extent, and not usually after he's been working and is already exhausted), and Davey will occasionally take a jog to wind down if he's got the energy to spare. (Buck and Davey are also big on some good ol' fashioned post-work Casual Physical Affection, but less so now that Minnie's living with them. They Will Not Be Making Out In Front Of Their Niece Actually)
Buck, despite complaining, actually generally likes most if not all chores. He likes getting his living spaces Clean and In Order! Davey and Minnie, by contrast, are pretty ambivalent at best to chores - I don't think there's any they'd say they "like." (Secretly Minnie's come to enjoy helping to keep the workshop clean, though.)
Buck. One Hundred Percent Buck. Davey and Minnie Do Not Understand but like Davey at least is happy his boyfriend's happy.
They all have their weaknesses for this, with asterisks - Minnie's both an impulsive shithead 13 year old and actually Very Recently comes from a background where she Could just kind of buy whatever without consequences, so in that respect she's the most likely. Davey, meanwhile, likes little useless trinkets and such and can be a little bit driven by impulse on occasion, but 1) he's a reasonable adult who has learned, sometimes the hard way, that he doesn't need and shouldn't have everything that briefly strikes his fancy, and 2) if he decides he wants it anyway he's a supervillain he's just gonna steal it. he don't have money lmao. Buck is the least likely EXCEPT that he's very susceptible to like... dark pattern type marketing-slash-game things? What I'm trying to say is Buck spent a lot of money on Cookie Run until Davey got it off his phone and password locked the app store
Davey collects video games! especially older ones he played growing up. He's also got a soft spot for weird old technology in general, but doesn't actively seek it out so much, though occasionally Buck or someone like the Junkyard Queens'll gift him something they find along those lines. Speaking of I guess technically Buck collects junk and scrap and such to tinker with. Like i Guess that counts
#long post#anonymous puzzler answers#laurzzz#anonymous puzzler originals#villain coded comic#if buck had the means to just Way Of The Househusband himself i think he would be very happy and fulfilled.#like if he just got to be a suburban househusband saying ominous terrifying shit that would be good for him.#i bet you davey called buck his 'trophy husband' half as a joke Once and buck got so flustered he had to lie facedown on the floor about it
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Alright! Some thoughts for the mermaid!himbros au since I haven’t touched it in a while. I really want to explore more of the differences between Punz’s breed, the narwhals, and Foolish’s breed, the belugas.
As stated in an earlier post the narwhals are more of a warrior race. They’re very minimalistic due to being nomadic, only carrying things they need in kelp bags and pouches wrapped around their waists and tails. They will carry stuff like weapons, tools, and rations, but don’t bother keeping much that won’t come in handy simply because it will add extra weight and slow them down.
The belugas on the other hand are the exact opposite. Usually their pods will settle down and stay in one area, meaning they have the space and time to collect useless trinkets. They like to craft pretty things like figurines and jewellery and like to cover themselves in pretty items like shells and rocks.
This means Punz and Foolish tend to act and see things quite differently. Punz wants to constantly move, while Foolish prefers to stay in one place for some time to relax. Punz will only gather and keep what’s necessary, meanwhile Foolish will pick up and save shells or shiny rocks for no other reasons than that he finds them neat or pretty.
This does end up creating some conflicts between the two.
The constant moving easily makes Foolish annoyed and stressed, and at one point the two get into a heated enough argument that Punz simply leaves him behind. Punz was convinced they had been tracked by a larger sea beast during the last couple of days and didn’t want to stop until he was sure it had given up the hunt. Meanwhile Foolish simply wanted some time to settle down to work on some of his craftings to relax a bit.
This results in a close call, the beast that Punz had been concerned about being a very real threat and one that was determined to make a meal out of Foolish, who only managed to survive thanks to Punz returning at the last moment and helping him escape.
It did lead to some injuries, mostly for Punz who put himself between the creature and Foolish, but the incident made Foolish realise the dangers of staying in one area for too long without the safety and protection of a large pod. It also made him trust Punz a lot more. Up until that point they had just been two merfolk travelling together out of convenience, they enjoyed each other’s company but they weren’t necessarily friends. Punz refuses to tell Foolish why he came back for him, but after that moment their relationship starts to grow closer.
Punz finally accepted the fact that Foolish wasn’t used to the constant moving and grew to understand that the beluga used his time to craft and work with his hands to destress. Keeping that in mind he started to make an effort to find temporary safe spaces to lay low for a few days after long stretches of travel, giving Foolish time to rest and work with his hobbies.
The whole collecting trinkets thing, on the other hand, is something Punz has a hard time wrapping his head around. It makes him grow increasingly frustrated and anxious about Foolish slowing them down or the beluga potentially putting himself in danger due to the extra weight he’s carrying.
This does lead to a few more disagreements but Foolish eventually manages to show Punz the usefulness of his crafts. While Punz has amazing instincts and is a great fighter, Foolish has a creative mind and is a great problem solver. He makes little items to help distract or confuse the dangerous beasts that try to hunt them. He carefully watches Punz’s hunting technique and crafts him a net that works perfectly with his movements.
But what really has an impact on Punz is when his lance breaks. The lances are like an extension of the narwhal mers bodies, a weapon that they craft in their late teens as they come of age. It’s their pride and joy and should be able to withstand use and last them throughout their life. Punz is devastated when his breaks, he kind of gives up on everything once he can’t fix it, so Foolish takes the matter into his own hand.
He carefully pieces it together when Punz is asleep, uses his various items to glue and tie it all together, carefully mimics Punz’s own craftsmanship to make the cracks and broken patterns look deliberate rather than patched up.
Punz is completely speechless when Foolish hands him the final result, and when it finally clicks that Foolish did indeed fix his lance, beautifully at that, he’s overjoyed. He tries to act nonchalant about it, but he can’t quite hide his smile and the way his mood brightens immensely over the next few days.
He doesn’t really question it when Foolish picks up and keeps random items after that, if anything he sometimes gives in and adds some of Foolish’s trinkets to his own bags to make it easier for the beluga. Likewise, Foolish stops questioning when Punz keeps them moving, knowing that if the narwhal isn’t stopping there’s probably a good reason for it.
They definitely start out with their ups and downs but the more time they spend together the more they get to know each other, eventually coming to understand and adapt to each other's cultural differences.
#punz#foolish gamers#himbros#funz#mermaid au#apologize for any spelling mistakes or mixed tenses#my brain is mush atm XD;#pom talks
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I haven't read the whole hc stuff you posted about this but my adhd brain just churned something out and I want to share it rn or I'll DIE
....ahem.
Since Sae is a collector (cars, figurines etc.) I immediately had the thought of knight sae liking to buy questionable trinkets and stuff from markets that are said to have some special abilities but usually don't. Actually work and he just. Tinkers with them until they DO work at least somewhat as intended.
Bonus points if the Mc likes listening to him ramble about that and watching him showing them off to them. Like once they found out for some reason. Maybe they walked in on him tinkering or he just casually mentioned it once and they wouldn't get off his back about it because they wanted to see (also because they really want to make sure that he doesn't accidentally blows himself up).
YES! You get it!!!
I love the idea of him having a little collection of 'useless' trinkets that he likes to work on and ramble about to the MC! I imagine it's how they first bonded. Maybe the MC was raised sheltered so a peek at these little trinkets was like opening a whole new world up to them. I love the idea of Saeyoung showing up and being like 'you'll never guess what I found'. Or the MC finding him with burns on his hands and telling him off for hurting himself again (he never listens).
Also idk if this is what you meant by 'special' properties but I love the idea of knight!saeyoung having a certain affinity for working with magical objects. It might not be traditional skills by any means (he'd drive the trained alchemists mad with his self-taught techniques) but hey, if it works it works!
Also imagine the MC sneaking out of the palace and coming across something they know Saeyoung would LOVE so they buy it for him and surprise him with it later on. (bonus points if it's something symbolic of their feelings for each other hehe)
#thank you for this I am loving the Knight Luciel HCs#keep them coming please and thank you#faye talks
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SORRY for sending another ask but god thank you SOOO much for taking the time to write out a whole post about this. i get so incredibly angry over beanie babies in particular, every time i see those huge plastic bead eyes it makes me want to get violent. i wouldn't say i'm a toy collector, but i do have a lot of like trinkets and whatever, and i think blind bags have a lot to blame for the decline of toy production because they're all the same little figurine with a different design painted on them and it SUCKS. and like you said, it's all cheap plastic that you can't manipulate or play with in any way. they bank on the fact that there's an element of "surprise," but tbh if you're getting the same stiff body w a huge head with just a different paint job plastered on, there's nothing to be surprised about. and don't even get me started on the fact that these older toys are all "collector's items" now that cost $100+ for a single one on ebay because of scalpers. one day i am going to burn capitalism to the ground for many reasons, but mostly because i need to have fun again 💔💔💔
oh my god yeah no youre right, toy companies got a huge boom in blind bag sales because of the whole "unboxing" trend that swept the globe, and exploiting the addictiveness of gambling using children's toys/media.
and yeah im no toy collector either because of how much anything decent costs (literally all my fave dolls are discontinued and are ~50 - 100 dollars each yay:)))) i just have an insane appreciation for them. which is why i also feel nothing but disappointment and disgust for these useless shitty modern ""toys"" that are basically shelf trinkets that do nothing- perfect for collecting, if that's your thing, but horrible for entertaining a child or aiding in imagination development or anything. like how are you gonna have absolutely nothing to play with and still market towards kids 😩💀 its sad
#03#and no problem!! im glad people are understanding/relating#i feel like this is something I could talk about alllll day lol
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They had followed him.
When relocating to the Tyler Estate, Nortrom took very little with him. He had few worldly possessions he thought irreplaceable, and no attachment to most every day items; It was purely out of convenience to avoid buying more that drove him to bring some tools and the like. But there was something else, something he never owned in the first place. Something that had recently become a regular sight at his old home: The ravens.
After the debacle involving transmogrification magic and a bargain of shiny things with some birds while Nortrom himself was not in a human body, they kept returning. The Silencer kept his end of said bargain, leaving out small trinkets, bits of food, or other scraps that might catch their interest. Eventually, however, the birds must have believed their debt concluded and in turn would bring their own forms of payment to trade for the ‘shinies’. Nortrom would find the items he left gone, but in their stead new objects: random coins, rings, lost objects, and whatever else the birds picked up and thought worth the trade.
When he left, Nortrom thought nothing of fact he was also leaving this odd transaction behind. He also thought nothing of the birds that already flocked around the Estate, roosting on it’s gables and gutters. He even thought little of the comments by a few who had been there much longer than he, that the population of said birds had seemingly increased recently.
The birds had given him a week to settle in, before choosing to initiate the bargain once more. Nortrom returned to the guarded home, tucked behind the Estate’s high iron fences, only to be confused by a raven at his door step. It wasn’t afraid as other birds might be, not getting out of his way more than a few paces, and in it’s mouth it carried a small silver length of jeweller’s chain.
Could this really be one of the raven’s from the mountain, following him this far out? It felt ridiculous to even consider, but curiosity got the better of the man who had gone inside and came back out with a chunk of jerky. Setting it down and stepping back a few paces, he waited. It took no time at all for the bird to hop forward, peck at the meat, drop the chain, and fly off with it’s traded food. So they really had followed him. But why? Nortrom doubted it was for a few odds and ends they got out of this.
Now, there is a drawer in the Silencer’s home, nestled inside an end-table by the door. Were one to look within, they may be confused by the seemingly random bits of junk and coin tossed haphazardly about. Nortrom had made a habit of keeping the items the birds bartered with in his own curious collection, a stash of useless trinkets and untouched currency that the corvids had pilfered to make their exchanges. He wouldn't spend the coins, nor use the items; they were a sort of study of the people of Weeping Rose, and the items they may have lost to the birds.
Perhaps one day he might find a pattern in the items. Perhaps there was none.
All Nortrom knew was that his home had apparently become a trading post for the birds.
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Hii Clus!! What about camellia and nutmeg for the ask game? ^^
Hi Goose ! Ooh it's introspection time with the first one !
camellia : what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?
Okay, maybe this will be a little long, sorry about that! When I was younger, I was very very shy and not very good at social interactions, so you can guess that speaking in public/in front of the class was my absolute nightmare. Most of the time I played by myself and made up stories in my head (not in a bad way), and I was very naive, so my friends liked to tell me scary stories and I believed them every time (they weren't the nicest but honestly I was very gullible). So, a pretty closed off child. Now I'm not naive anymore, in fact it's quite the opposite! And even though I still have trouble with self-confidence and stuff like that, I'm more comfortable dressing the way I want, I have good friends and I'm less socially constipated, so yeah I think I've changed a lot! (and I had long hair ALL my childhood and now it's short and I dyed it and I love it >:) I guess that counts as a change) and now I have a great group of friends ! I still can't speak in public
nutmeg : how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?
if 'collecting and keeping all kinds of useless objects and trinkets as decorations' was a style, it would be mine. I have so many useless stuff on my desk, like shells, Playmobils, toys from my chilhood, and things I found at a thrift store, but somehow I make it work and I wouldn't have it another way ! But the downside is that I don't have anymore space for new things. There is also posters on the walls, drawings from my friends, postal cards from family, and lots and lots of post-it with important things to do because I can't remember anything. Also a faded flower bouquet that I taped to the wall, because I had no more space.
Thank you for asking <3<3
#me talking#Goose#asks#cutting my hair was the best decision of my life#best thing ever I swear#in the end the introspection wasn't so long#introspection speedrun#should I had that I still have my christmas tree ?
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Ads Suck
I always felt that there was something inherently false and dishonest with advertising. Im going along one day minding my own business and all of a sudden i see a product in an ad telling my subconscious that im incomplete without it.
Nevermind the fact that up until that point in my life, id gotten along just fine without it.
If that isnt annoying enough, these days, we can't get away from it. Nowadays, there are no limits. It is a free-for-all business with powerful algorithms designed to crack our psyches open like eggs. If there's one thing anyone can speak to who has taken a giant relation-shit, a person with no boundaries is toxic as hell.
Well now, we've invited the wolf in for supper haven't we?
Tv ads, facebook ads, instagram ads, tiktok ads, twitter ads ... all of these ads everywhere for countless pieces of garbage to waste our money on. I can't even drive down the street without seeing a smiling blue van that reminds me of the bottomless pit of ultimate convenient consumerism that's two thumb taps away. Everything I've ever wanted can be mine for the small price of any future dreams for this one dopamine hit.
I call bullshit.
I can honestly say that at this point in my life, i prefer having less clutter in my physical space. I definitely appreciate less clutter in my head as well.
I used to go to bed thinking about all the junk and trinkets i could buy that would make me a more fascinating person. Dvd walls, badass clothes, Collectibles, guitars, gear, comics, new cars, new stuff ....
....all my stuff that made me more interesting to follow on Facebook. I used to get the "oooh! Im so jealous!" Or "where did you get that??" Comments. Id feel validated. As if other people liking my stuff meant they liked me too.
Looking back, i was blind.
It was all time and attention wasted on miniscule pleasures that ended up accumulating dust in my storage unit. And nobody ACTUALLY cared about any of my stuff.
They were window-shopping.
If i never see a "looking for recommendations" post again, it will be too soon.... for real. People need to adult on their own and stop looking to the peanut gallery out of either their own laziness or desperate quests for approval in the popularity contest.
Trust me when i say, you CAN choose a new truck without 50 comments telling you what truck THEY think you need....
Is this really what the human experience is supposed to be about? Accumulating all this stuff and letting our lives become a free fucking commercial for everything we use?
I don't get paid by any companies. Yet I'm still their commercial and attract customers to their door.
Wheres my slice of that ad money pie?
I don't get any. You know what i do get offers for?
More stuff. And more ads promising me my life will be complete if i buy this thing or that thing.
But it doesn't take away the loneliness.
It doesn't make my life more manageable or easier. In fact it does the opposite. It muddies the water so i now have to ask whether or not someone is really interested in ME as a person ...
Or just my stuff.
Once i refused to be a living caricature of my own life by becoming a walking, talking commercial, a lot of people stopped talking to me. Cause all they wanted were the posts about STUFF.
Heres what ive found out. Take it with a grain of salt.
There's nothing authentic or real about letting your stuff own you. Authenticity is the exact opposite of advertising.
Advertising will not fulfill its own empty promise. It creates a fantasy of false pretense. We get our dopamine hits in the brain. Our own emotions fall prey. We willingly allow ourselves to be coerced although we know deep down, there's going to be no true deep fulfillment. As soon as we buy the thing and get the dopamine hit, that's it. At that point, we are stuck being that much closer to broke with one more useless trinket to clutter, and thus complicate already over-complicated lives.
Authenticity offers no instant reward. There's no dopamine. There's no satisfaction guarantees. There's no pretense. To be authentic means rejecting that which says you are incomplete and accept your incompletion without comparison, or complaint.
We are not perfect. Nor will we ever be. So we should stop trying to be.
Maybe Chuck Palahniuk's "Fight Club" was really onto something. Maybe we should accept that we will never be complete. Maybe that is the first step in being complete.
When you realize you're already enough AS A HUMAN, you can reject anyone that lies to you and says you're not until you buy their product.
Blowing our money on worthless Plastic crap in the name of consumerism isnt freedom. It's slavery to a Matrix-like construct that preys on insecurity for our hard earned money.
Advertising has no place in the authentic life. Real honest authentic people don't have to advertise in order to find fulfillment. They find fulfillment by being alive in all of life's wonders, boredoms, and horrors ....without distraction.
Authenticity just deals with the fact that life isn't perfect. Sometimes it sucks.
Owning more stuff wont change that.
Because of the perverse intensity of ad algorithms over Facebook, i felt it was necessary to take a huge leap back from the platform.
None of these products or ads TRULY care about me. So why should i pretend they do?
Mark Sucker-berg sure doesnt care about me. He's just trying to compile as much information about me in order to pique my interests and get a bigger slice of my income pie.
Jeff Bezos couldn't give a shit about you or me.
So why should we give them the opportunity to strip-mine our bank accounts?
Ill answer that question for me. I can't answer for you.
I won't. Facebook, Amazon, and all of their ad revenue can kiss my ass. Im already a whole person. Im satisfied with the products i use. And if i need something else, i will generate the thought and actions to accumulate the desire myself. I certainly don't need help from vapid billionaire tech giants to spend my own money for me. Stuff is expensive these days
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WIP... Tuesday?
Just in case anyone was wondering what useless novelty project I’m spending my time on now, may I introduce:
Or more accurately: “Shisui Uchiha and the Saga of the Overly Complex Movie Poster that’s Taking Up all of the Author’s Writing Time.”
Or: “Shisui Uchiha and the One-off Story that Accidentally Turned Into a Trilogy, much to the Author’s Total Lack of Surprise.”
So anyway, I have 30,000 words (3/9 chapters of the first part) so far and as usual, no timeline for completing this story. But I’m definitely in too deep to back out now! My new approach to stories is to write the whole thing, then post week by week. So this one is still probably several months away at least...
But here’s a quick preview:
The list of things Shisui Uchiha regrets in his life is pretty small.
A handful of ill-considered one night stands, several embarrassing bets with members of his family, the summer he decided to turn emo, oh—and one particularly notable fuck-up early in his career that very nearly ended it prematurely. But, for the most part, it’s been smooth-sailing.
Sure, maybe the odd rival takes a pot shot at him here or there. Ancient booby traps try to kill him, or the local wildlife steps in where they’ve left off. He and spiders are categorically never going to get along. But he’s never had cause to regret his career itself. He loves everything about treasure hunting—the adventure, the danger, the intellectual challenge of it all. The way his heart races when he finds some ancient artifact supposedly lost for good.
So, all in all, his current position—perched twenty feet up a silk cotton tree in India, surrounded by about two-dozen armed thugs personally out for his blood—well, that’s just another day at the office.
Two of the men walk below Shisui’s hiding place and he holds his breath, watching. They’re thick-built meat-heads; improbable amalgams of every jackbooted thug to ever grace a movie screen, with jawlines Chuck Norris could break a fist on, and brows that would make a Neanderthal proud. Supressing the snicker that threatens to escape him at the thought, Shisui wonders where Gato keeps finding these idiots. Some sort of steroid-fuelled body building conference maybe…
Comfortable they’re far too stupid to realise he’s here, he swings his legs back and forward, checking his bag to make sure his prize is still undamaged. Thankfully, despite having beaten a hasty retreat through the crowded city streets, the jewel-encrusted golden elephant winks up at him like a winning lottery ticket. One that’s going to pay for fancy canapes, champagne and extra leg room on Shisui’s flight home. Then a lot more afterwards.
But karma, as they say, is a bitch.
And karma, for Shisui, makes itself known in the form of a fluffy grey creature that plops down onto the branch beside him, joined in short order by half a dozen other partners in crime. At first, the macaque just fixes its intelligent gaze on Shisui, as though assessing what to do with him. Then, one very pregnant pause later, after the apparent realisation that no food is immediately forthcoming, the ringleader opens its mouth and screams. Loudly.
Shit.
“No, shhh…” Shisui orders in a loud whisper. “Oh come on, don’t be an asshole.”
The screaming continues, soon swelling to a cacophony as the others join in.
“Shoo!” he pleads, waving his arms around to try and scare them off. “I’ll buy you bag of bananas or something when I get down from here, just please shut up…”
But the little bastards don’t stop and, if anything, Shisui’s heated objection only seems to be pissing them off more. Which is fantastic, because truly the last thing he needs today is to catch rabies or—
From the bottom of the tree, someone clears their throat. “Ahem.”
Or that.
It’s smug, officious, and quite frankly, about the last voice Shisui wants to hear right now. Every part of him sinks. On reflection, maybe it was a bit arrogant to think he wouldn’t have been followed to the temple. To think he was just going to walk in, pilfer a several-centuries old treasure, and walk out again, a comfortable five-figure sum the richer for it.
But then, it wouldn’t be the first time.
Sighing, he looks down to see his least-favourite human approximation of a turd. “Gato.”
“Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite globe-trotting Uchiha. Fancy seeing you here,” Gato says, appearing inordinately pleased. His trademark sunglasses sit awkwardly atop his bulbous nose, straddling a pencil moustache that looks like a worm met its unfortunate end on his face some years ago, and he never bothered to wipe it off.
For reasons he can’t currently articulate, it annoys the shit out of Shisui. Possibly because if there’s anything he hates more than someone getting the better of him, it’s someone who’s as much of a fucking waste of space as Gato getting the better of him.
“Yeah well, you know how it is,” he says, glancing around for a quick exit. “Ancient treasures to find, damsels in distress to rescue…”
But unfortunately, the crowd of highly armed men around Gato is growing by the second, and Shisui’s options are looking somewhat thin on the ground. At least, all the ones that don't end with him riddled in bullet holes. Damn macaques…
Gato grins. In the pre-monsoon heat, sweat rolls down his neck and spreads like an oily stain across his collar. “Oh, I’m well aware of how you operate... You’re a businessman, just like me. Always taking jobs for the highest bidder.” Before Shisui can open his mouth to disagree, Gato holds up a hand, adding, “I know, I know… you don’t see yourself that way. Moral code or whatever it is you like to call it. But in reality, the only difference between us is that you have the air of legitimacy that comes with an academic backing, whereas I’m willing to admit what I really want.”
“And what do you want, Gato?” Shisui asks flatly, already knowing the answer. The tired old game they’re playing here.
“That trinket you have in your bag.” Gato licks his lips, as though he can taste the champagne he’s going to be drinking once he returns the statue to whoever hired him, to disappear into some private collection, never to see the light of day again.
“What do I get in return?” Shisui asks, even though it’s obvious from Gato’s expression that he’s not going to like it, whatever it is.
A mirthless laugh assaults his ears. “I’ll let you live to cross paths with me another day.”
As offers go, it’s not very believable. But as much as Shisui hates to admit when his luck’s run out, even he can see the writing on the wall. Today really isn’t his day. Sure, he might trust Gato about as far as he could throw him, but even Gato isn’t stupid enough to shoot him on a main street, in broad daylight. Probably…
Retrieving the golden elephant from his bag, Shisui tosses it carefully down.
Turning the trinket over in his hands, Gato lets out a hum of appreciation. “Very nice. My client will be pleased.” He hands it off to one of his many thugs to box up, then peers back through the branches, looking more like a slug than Shisui would ever have thought possible. Reinforcing the impression, his lips twist with a slimy smile. “Well, as always, it’s been nice doing business with you Shisui. But I think, unfortunately, you’ve caused me trouble for the last time.”
Far too pleased for Shisui’s taste, Gato steps back, raising his hand in a gesture that looks awfully like it’s intended as a final farewell. Or a smug ‘fuck you.’ Either way, the message is perfectly clear.
Shisui rolls his eyes, mentally scratching off another predictable villainous turn on his treasure hunting bingo card. “All right,” he calls after Gato’s retreating back. “Nice doing business with you too! See you next time...” Under his breath he mutters, “Asshole…”
Truly, Gato doesn't have an original bone in his body. It's like he once read The Idiots Guide to Being a B-Grade Movie Villain, then internalised it on the spot to make up for a lack of anything remotely resembling a personality. But, pathetic imitation of a villain or not, his bullets are still effective.
The leaves around him shred beneath the pop, pop of gunfire as Shisui sucks in a rushed breath, bracing himself for what he’s about to do. The branch wobbles precariously beneath his feet as he races along it, pushing off into air that rushes past, disconcerting and empty. The slender gap to the building seems to widen to the span of a gaping abyss—
He hits the rail of the apartment with thud, clambering quickly over it to fall on his back on the balcony, winded, but mercifully unharmed. A macaque peers over the guttering at him, with a leering grin that clearly threatens more screaming.
“Don’t you start,” he warns, waggling a finger at it.
But there’s barely a moment to catch his breath before the sound of splintering wood below indicates another problem. Or an extension of the same one. Bounding to his feet, Shisui scoops up his hat, settles it back on his head, and checks over the railing. A bullet clips the plaster nearby—a pretty good indication that Gato’s men have every idea where he’s gone. That, combined with the way they’re currently pushing through the lower doors to the complex probably doesn’t mean anything good for him.
“Shit,” he announces to no one in particular. It’s times like these he really wishes he carried a gun…
Forcing his way into the mercifully empty apartment off the balcony, Shisui slips quickly through it. Cracking open the door on the far side, he checks the coast is clear. It is.
Of course, it doesn’t stay that way for long. Halfway along the open air corridor, there’s a cry of discovery from his pursuers, followed by more shooting. Seriously, why are the bad guys always bringing guns to Shisui’s knife fights?
Ducking, he runs faster, bursting into another apartment filled with hazy cigarette smoke and shocked faces before finally making it to an exterior stairwell on the far side. Looking at the next building over, it’s immediately apparent the gap is way too far for him to use the same trick he did before. But with Gato’s men advancing on him from below, maybe he can just make it to street level and bypass them altogether…
A thicket of power cables criss-crosses the span between the buildings, with one nearby running almost to the level of the shop awnings below. Sending a rash of silent prayers to whatever gods take care of Indian power line maintenance, Shisui detaches a length of rope from his belt and flings it over the wire, gripping each side like a makeshift zipline. Holding his breath, he pushes off into empty space. To his surprise and considerable delight, the line holds.
It sweeps him across the street, picking up more and more speed, until the side of the other building is rushing at him like—
Shit.
He impacts it with his shoulder, coming to an uncomfortable and jarring stop. Pain shoots down his arm and he lets go of the rope, crashing through a fabric awning and landing ungracefully in a huge stack of bagged flour. Dust floats down around him and Shisui groans, moving each of his limbs in turn. By some miracle, nothing seems broken. Not even his tantō in its leather holster at his back.
Oh well. Fall down seven times, stand up eight…
Apparently his exit was none too subtle though, because Gato’s men are leaning over the stairwell railing, yelling and pointing at the mess he’s made. Dragging himself to his feet, Shisui evades an angry store owner, brushes flour off of his clothes and resumes running for his life.
Never let anyone say archaeology is boring.
As he emerges back onto the main street, searching for quick and easy exit, the sound of screeching brakes and angry honking carries from the road. Cutting a wild path through traffic is an old open-top olive-drab Jeep with several gold charms dangling from its rear-view mirror. It jerks to a stop just before hitting Shisui, both side wheels riding up on the curb.
“Need a ride?” the female driver asks, grinning.
Her windswept hair hangs past the fashionable silk scarf tied at her neck. Unmanicured nails wrap around the slender metal of the steering wheel, like they couldn’t be more at home there. They’re a stark contrast with the cream suit linen she’s wearing, rolled up neatly to her elbows. Speckled with dirt, it looks like she’s probably travelled halfway across the country to be here, and been up to her elbows in the grease of the Jeep’s engine at some point to do it. She’s a walking contradiction—albeit one Shisui is delighted to see.
“Izumi!” he exclaims happily.
Eyes sparkling, she waves. “Hey.”
“I thought you were practicing on the course in Reno this weekend… What’re you doing here?”
A shot rings out, kicking up dust near one of the tyres. Glancing behind him, Izumi rolls her eyes, reaching across to throw open the door. “What am I always doing? Saving your ass, you idiot... Now get in before one of us gets shot, or I have to find out whether my rental insurance covers illegal firefight damage.”
#uchiha shisui#uchiha izumi#future shisuita#new story#my art#really having fun writing this one#I'm such a sucker for adventure movies#and snarky team banter#and this combines both#aaaaand we've just been thrown into another covid lockdown#so more writing time here I come!#Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura
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Unholy Ghosts deleted scene: Chaos Family Christmas
I was reminded of this fic the other day, and after giving it a scan I remembered that the first version of the Christmas scene was very different to the one I ended up including in the posted story. This first draft was longer and more comedic, and I decided to write another because the fic was already so long and the tone had already become more contemplative. Upon giving that first draft a reread, though, I thought it was funny, and have decided to share it here!
The necessary backstory for this is: Lord Asriel and Mrs Coulter avoided falling into the abyss (though still killed Metatron) and tricked Lyra into coming North five years later. After a rocky start, she spends her winter break with them. This is towards the end of the fic, and if you want to read about how they got to this point (or why she’s calling them Asriel and Marisa) you can read the full story here. Also, for some of the jokes to work, the version of Boreal mentioned in this is the older version from the books. I hope you enjoy!
One day, Lyra was wandering around the Saariselkä market with her mother, a migraine having confined a foul-tempered Asriel to the bedroom for the afternoon, when she spotted the date on a newspaper stacked outside the post office. Tucked away in the cabin, she’d largely lost track of time. “Look!” she said to Pan, who was rolling around in the snow. “It’s December twenty-third. It’s almost Christmas!”
They arrived home that afternoon with the usual spoils, along with a freshly plucked snow goose and a stack of root vegetables, ideal for roasting. They’d also found some sweet pears and fresh cream, which they could poach in red wine for dessert. Her mother had even let Lyra drive the motorsledge home, the wind whipping through their hair and flushing their cheeks the same bright pink as they charged over the white hills back to the cabin, both of them beaming, unbeknownst to the other.
Her father went off on a tirade when they explained what the purchases were for, of course, ranting and raving, saying that he hadn’t thrown God into an endless abyss to then celebrate his son’s birth like a sycophant. Marisa simply nodded along while she melted chocolatl into milk on the stove and spiked it with brandy, then guided Lyra to the sofa, mugs in hand, and whispered, “Let’s just wait for him to tire himself out, hmm?” which made Lyra laugh, and then she felt guilty for laughing, as she still did whenever they shared a shred of affection.
Lyra assumed that she’d prepare the meal alone on the day itself, but confronted with a sack of dirt-encrusted potatoes and a whole goose carcass, to say nothing of the chard or the gravy or the dessert, she realised that she might benefit from some assistance. She peered across the room to the lounge; her father was stretched on the sofa with a notebook on one leg and a newspaper on the other. She marched over with her hands on her hips. “There are too many potatoes for me to peel on my own, not if I’m going to stuff and season the goose too. I can’t do it all myself. You have to help me.”
He frowned. “I’m working.”
Lyra peered at his sparse scrawls. “You haven’t written a sentence in an hour.”
“I’m mulling,” he said petulantly, though Stelmaria had lifted her head, her ears twitching.
Lyra folded her arms, spurred on by his dæmon’s mild enthusiasm. “It’s Christmas.”
“You know that means nothing to me.”
“I don’t care.” They stared at each other, an imperious mirror image. She raised an eyebrow. “Marisa’s excited about it, about us celebrating together. I can tell her that you’re refusing to participate, if you’d prefer that.”
The corner of his lip twitched, the hint of a smirk. “Are you trying to play us off each other?”
“Is it working?”
He sighed. “Can’t your mother do it?”
“She’s even more useless than you are. And she’s in the bath.”
Stelmaria got to her feet with a yawn and padded into the kitchen, giving Asriel no choice but to follow, a scowl etched across his face and a triumphant grin sprawled across Lyra’s.
She put him to work preparing the snow goose for the oven while she mixed fennel and star anise and salt together for the seasoning, grinding the spices in an old granite mortar with a chipped pestle and adding a squirt of lemon juice at the end. She’d assumed that he could handle basic meat preparation – her parents’ brutal reindeer butchery had made it clear that he knew his way around a cleaver – but when she checked on his progress, her eyes widened. She’d tasked him with lightly scouring the goose’s legs and breast with a knife to help the fat render, and he’d interpreted that as gouging deep trenches into the bird, burying the knife into the carcass.
“Asriel!” she said, grabbing the knife from him. “God, no, not like that. Like this.”
He rolled his eyes as she instructed him, dragging the fine point of the knife over the goose’s other leg. He tried again and immediately created a deep channel in the bird’s flesh. Lyra glared at him.
“Have you ever been gentle in your life?”
He let his head roll towards her. “What do you think?”
She shook her head and took over, passing him the peeler instead and shoving him towards the pile of potatoes she’d already scrubbed clean. “I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me,” she muttered, tracing delicate scratches into the bird’s skin and then rubbing the seasoning into the fresh grooves. “Threatening to break my arm was your first instinct when I was a child – don’t think I don’t remember you putting me in an armlock in the retiring room, or all those times you dragged me to Mrs Lonsdale by the wrists – and then you tore the bloody sky in half! When it wasn’t even necessary. But that’s just what you’re like, isn’t it – ”
“What?” Asriel had paused, peeler in one hand, semi-shorn potato in the other. Lyra blinked; she’d assumed that he’d just tuned her out.
“Nothing. I was just commenting on your inability to do anything with restraint.”
“What do you mean it wasn’t necessary?”
She stared at him. “Well, there were lots of windows already, weren’t there? Even in Oxford. But no, you had to go all the way to the North – ”
He dropped the peeler onto the countertop with a clatter. “There were other windows? In our world?”
“Yeah,” she said, sharing a nervous glance with Pan. “You – you didn’t know about them?”
“How could I?” he said. “Within days of leaving Svalbard this world was several windows away. I didn’t spare a thought for home until your mother and I returned. How many? Where are they? Did you say Oxford?”
“They’re closed now,” Lyra said, an unwelcome memory of Will’s face disappearing behind a cruel, luminous seam in the air coming to her mind. “And I only knew about a few, the Oxford ones, mostly, though Will’s dad must’ve come through one too. But they’d been around for ages, they must have. I mean, Latrom had been crossing for years.” She tilted her head. “You really didn’t know that there were other windows? Even now?”
“No,” he snapped, Stelmaria grizzling beside him. “No one deigned to tell me. And who’s this Latrom?”
“That creepy collector guy, with the snake-dæmon. Oh, he had a different name in our world…”
“Boreal,” Pantalaimon piped up from beside her. “Lord Boreal.”
Her father’s eyes widened. “Boreal was travelling between worlds?”
Lyra nodded. “He’d been at it for ages. Decades, I suppose. He ran a big company in Will’s world and had travelled all over, collecting things for his weird basement. I think he was trying to impress Marisa. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.”
That made Stelmaria growl, and Lyra’s heart began to beat a little faster.
“Your mother went with him? To another world?”
“She was looking for me, I think,” Lyra admitted. “Latrom – Boreal – whatever, he’d stolen my alethiometer to force us bring him the knife, and she came to intercept us. That didn’t work either.”
At that moment, her mother swanned into the kitchen, wearing a red cashmere dress and a coal-black shawl, a fragrant bloom of perfume following her, the intertwining notes of rose and myrrh a smell Lyra had come to recognise as soon as it appeared in the air. She smiled at the sight of them, Asriel and Lyra side by side in the kitchen, though the joy was wiped from her face as soon as Asriel exploded, “You went to another world with Boreal?”
Marisa glared at Lyra, and she took Pan in her arms at once and clutched him to her chest. “What did you say to him?”
“I didn’t realise it was a secret!” Lyra said. “It was years ago!”
“When I asked you to go to another world with me, you refused. But when he asked – ”
The golden monkey was pulling gently on Stelmaria’s ears, trying to placate her, but Marisa herself seemed unperturbed. She poured herself a glass of wine, the same deep red as her dress, and leaned against the dining table. “He had something to offer me that served my own interests. You wanted me to simply abandon my life’s work in favour of yours, without a moment’s hesitation or complaint.”
“Semantics,” Asriel growled.
Marisa sipped her wine, pursing her lips, unbearably smug. “Are you jealous, darling? I thought you didn’t care about my lovers.”
Lyra’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You and he… ugh! That’s disgusting!”
“Thank you, Lyra,” her father said, smirking.
“He was so… so smarmy, and so old, even then!” Lyra said.
“He was not that old,” her mother snapped, shooting daggers at Asriel when he laughed.
“Trust me,” Asriel said, leaning towards Lyra but not lowering his voice, “she went older.”
“I don’t want to know!” Lyra said, at the same time Marisa growled, “Asriel.” The golden monkey’s soothing caresses became a vicious wrench, and then both Asriel and Stelmaria were grimacing.
Lyra shook her head, reaching for the warped tin tray holding the goose and carrying it over to the oven. “Ugh,” she said again, shivering slightly, thinking of Lord Boreal’s oily voice and vault of trinkets. “You did that to find me and I still got away. No wonder you were furious.” She closed the cast-iron door with a smack. “What happened to him, anyhow?”
“An altercation with a spectre,” her mother said smoothly. “If he’d been paying more attention, perhaps he’d have seen it coming. Alas.”
“You quite certain that the old snake’s heart didn’t just give out?” Asriel said, irritation transformed neatly into amusement. “As your daughter has emphasised so thoroughly, he was getting on.”
“Seems rather hypocritical to be goading me about the age of one’s lovers, hmm?” her mother said, with a sneer. “How old was that Latvian witch? Five hundred? Six?”
“Hard to say, given that she looked younger even than you,” Asriel said, leaning back against the counter with a smug smile. The monkey bit Stelmaria, and Asriel grunted.
“Stop it,” Lyra said, pressing her hands to her ears. “Ugh, just – just stop it! Both of you!”
Her parents glanced at Lyra, and then looked back to each other. Silence fell across the trio, and just as Lyra thought that the ghastly conversation was over, her father said, “She was four hundred, I’ll have you know. The witch you’re thinking of was Siberian, and she was – ”
“You’re both so infuriating!” Lyra said, storming out of the kitchen into her bedroom, closing the door with a slam.
She sat on her bed and folded her arms, expecting one of them to come and find her, but it soon became clear that her flouncing off had done little to end the argument. She could hear them bickering, two familiar tones resonating through the cabin’s wooden walls, with the occasional sharper snap or outraged shout. Then she heard the sound of glass smashing and a chair scraping across the ground. Lyra lay back on her bed with a groan, slotting her head beneath her pillow and pressing the soft cotton to her ears.
She waited a few minutes before resurfacing, pleased that the brawl had quietened, and then spent several more minutes flicking through her book, hoping that their tempers would have burned themselves out by the time she returned to the kitchen. But when she made her grand reappearance, expecting to see some contrition on their faces, even just a grain of sand’s worth, she found the kitchen empty, the only sound the faint hiss of the kettle on the stove. She looked around the empty room, noting the glass shards on the floor by the sink. “Do you think one of them ran off, and the other followed?” Pan said, peering out of the window.
“Their coats are still here…” Lyra said, frowning.
At that moment, the workshop door swung open and her father appeared in the doorway. His cheeks were flushed, and he was tucking his shirt back into his trousers. “Oh. You’re back.”
Lyra stared at him. He glanced at the oven, chest heaving. “Is that goose ready yet? I’m starving.”
Her mouth fell open. “You – you – ” She shook her head. “Oh my god!”
“Lyra, darling,” her mother said breathlessly, appearing beside Asriel, her face the same deep crimson as the dress she was still straightening.
“You two are a disgrace,” Lyra said, with all the admonition she could muster, but her father only snorted. She turned and stalked back to her bedroom. “Disgusting. Disgusting!”
This time her mother did appear after a few minutes, her wild hair neatened and her face dusted with powder, Lyra scowling beneath the covers and pretending to read when the knock came at the door. Marisa opened it and skulked inside, looking – perhaps for the first time in Lyra’s memory – truly embarrassed, her cheeks still aflame, now for different reasons.
“I’m sorry about that, darling,” she said, running a hand through her curls. “I don’t know what came over me. Now, won’t you join us in the kitchen again, hmm? I’ve mixed you a drink, with the cloudberry jenniver. I know that it’s your favourite.”
Lyra gave her an unimpressed glare. Her mother smiled sweetly, one hand stroking her dæmon’s golden back. “And you know your father doesn’t know what to do with a paring knife, nor a roast potato or a pear. It would be such a shame to see your lovely meal ruined, wouldn’t it? I certainly don’t know when to take the bird out of the oven.”
That got her out of bed, her mother’s hand rubbing gently between her shoulder blades as they returned to the kitchen. Her father was hacking at the pile of potatoes again, a half-finished cocktail by his side.
“There you are,” he said, holding out her drink. Lyra took a sip and suppressed a hum as the sweet spirit hit her throat. He gestured to the countertop. “Now, what do you want me to do with these?” he said. Before long, their workflow had resumed, Asriel scoffing at Lyra’s comments on his knife skills but following her instructions nonetheless, while her mother sat at the table and offered unhelpful suggestions, a glass of wine in her hand and her feet propped up on a chair.
“Merry Christmas to us,” Pan said after Marisa had made a particularly useless remark. Despite herself, Lyra smirked.
This is a deleted scene from my story Unholy Ghosts, in which Lord Asriel and Mrs Coulter survive the abyss and reunite with their daughter. You can read the full story on AO3.
#my fics#chaos family#lord asriel#marisa coulter#lyra belacqua#bad parenting#i thought this was funny idk#this is a crack fic tbh#the full fic is a lot less silly
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Keepsake., n.
For a ruthless man like him, it would be unusual to hold sentimental value over things that are useless to him.
He shouldn't keep those useless things, his superiors used to say. They bring nothing but weakness- something he should never possess.
Call it vengeance, an act of defiance over the people who hold his life on the line, or dare he even say... a piece of humanity left within him but the more they forbade him, the more these trinkets pile in- enough to occupy space at the back of his closet in the headquarters, always kept under heavy lock and key.
It's not his intention, per se. It really just happens and while he had the choice not to collect these things, it would be a shame to throw all of these away. Not that anyone would know, anyway.
Yet- if anyone was smart enough, they would know that most of the trinkets of the past belongs to a certain producer... the very same they were supposed to look for.
I've been listening to Strawberries and Cigarettes and well this happened. I do think that Lucien's a sentimental man... despite his ruthlessness.
Update: Look! I remembered to post this earlier! It’s pre-written that’s why I had to remember when to post the birth week prompts. Good thing I kept track of the supposed days.
Send in some prompts!
MLQC Dictionary; Masterlist
#mlqc#mlqc dictionary#mlqc dictionary prompts#mlqc lucien#mlqc xu mo#mlqc simon#mldd#mr love’s queen choice#mr. love queen's choice#mr love dream date#mr. love dream date#koi to producer#love and producer#love x evol#evol x love#lucien's birthmonth prompt#lucien's birthweek prompt day 2
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Erwin, Levi and tea. Part one of two.
This headcanon drabble hybrid is related to the one I posted earlier regarding Erwin getting joy from teaching/showing Levi new things. it's a long one guys, so i decided to split into two parts!
Erwin is a frugal man by habit. It's not that he has any real convictions against indulging in luxuries it's more that he has no real urge to indulge himself. Erwin tells himself that his frugality is just part of the straight laced stiff postured mask he finds himself wearing all to often, it has nothing to do with an inability to indulge in pleasure without guilt. He doesn't want to analyze the reasons for that and so he very pointedly doesn't.
Anyway the years spent working with/on/around the Survey Corps budget have affected the way he looks at money. He's often had to watch the Corp struggle to afford critical items like morphine and warm winter clothing. Meanwhile the rich own enough gaudy, frivolous trinkets worth enough to keep the Survey Corp warm 10 times over. Yet he finds himself part of an almost constant battle to secure donations.
So when one day he looks over his budget and sees a pretty hefty sum dedicated to tea, he feels a little sheepish, but any discomfort he feels in relation to his new spending habits are quickly replaced with a sense of pleased accomplishment. The feeling is enough to make him flush on the spot, his cheeks and neck burn red as he thinks of his budget ledger as evidence of winning over his sour faced comrade. It feels almost illicit and Erwin loves it.
From the first moment Erwin saw Levi fly over rooftops with a grace that he was certain was unearned but totally natural, he wanted to know the man. It was a challenge at first, said man wanted little to do with him. Other then wanting him dead, but Erwin refused to accept that, he knew he still had a bounty on him and that Levi and his friends had not given up hope on collecting the reward. But Erwin loved a challenge.
So he watched Levi, whenever he could get away with it, which was sometimes hard to do as Levi had also taken to watching him as well, although for entirely less charitable reasons. Erwin felt that his study of Levi was necessary, for the benefit of humanity he needed to find an in. Or at least that's the reason he gave himself for his continued interest, his almost grating desire to know more about his small statured comrade.
It didn't take long for Erwin to notice that Levi appreciated tea, he had it with every meal and lingered over every cup as though the sub par tea they served in the Corps mess hall was something to be savored. That and the tea stores were somehow declining at a faster rate then they should be...it wasn't hard for Erwin to put two and two together.
His plan was simple really, he would let the expensive samples of tea do most of the convincing for him, because he honestly doubted that Levi would accept his offer for tea any other way. So the day after he had purchased and expensive tin containing a mixture of fine black tea leaves he approached Levi and tried his best to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his throat. He told Levi that he had recently gotten his hands on some of the finest black tea from Sina, that apparently the tea was well circulated among the nobles and as soon as he saw Levi's eye's switch from barely concealed disdain to subtle interest Erwin knew that he had him. Still he was relieved when Levi grit out a begrudging yes.
It was a little tense at first, Erwin tried to make conversation and Levi scoffed. But when Erwin brought the tea up to his office Levi finally manage to throw out "You brew tea like shit. This tastes like shit Smith." Erwin snorted somehow charmed by the disrespect, had anyone else spoke to him like that he wasn't sure his reaction would be half as accommodating. He suggested that maybe Levi could teach him how. Levi rolled his eyes, shrugged and took small sips of the offensive tea. Erwin told him he didn't have to finish it, but Levi said the tea was to fine to waste and despite Erwin's incredible talent in destroying high quality tea it still tasted better then some of the shit he had in the underground. For some reason even this small acknowledgment that Erwin had given Levi something that was any bit better then what he had underground made his neck feel hot. So they sat across from one another and Erwin filled the time with idle chatter about formations he was working on for the Corp, Levi did little else but grunt and sometimes give a curt nod but Erwin felt this to be a huge victory, a monumental first step to something he wasn't ready to give a name to.
Erwin loved these occasions with Levi, he paid detailed attention to the way Levi appreciated tea with each one of his senses. The way his eyes scanned over each new package of tea, taking in the colors, the painted pictures of flowers and plants, the curling letters prettily declaring the strains and flavors. Erwin was enthralled with the way Levi felt each package with fingers that were almost reverent in the way they would poke, prod and stroke at the fine tins and papers, how delicately they would grasp a few loose leaves feeling the dry delicate texture on his fingertips. Levi's head would make the slightest tilt when he listened for the soft crush of tea leaves against fancy tins or the crinkle of paper and cellophane. He would linger over the steam from his cup nostrils flared, inhaling each rich herbal scent, his throat worked the taste of each sip of tea down into his stomach a pool of warmth that could be anything from soothing to invigorating and Erwin felt incredibly privileged to witness Levi's enjoyment of each cup of overly expensive tea.
It made it to easy to shell out the coin, he didn't think twice about it, there was nothing more addicting then watching Levi indulge and Erwin was more then happy to make that happen. He felt fortunate that he was the one who was able to introduce Levi to each new blend and was made even more content when Levi discovered a favorite and would make requests for the ones he loved the most. Levi had asked him once why he was so willing to indulge in luxury tea, why he had such a large collection and Erwin a smooth liar at the worst of times told him plainly that he had loved tea since he was a child. Levi replied "If you've liked it so long then why do you brew it like shit?" but didn't pry any further and Erwin was immensely grateful because he wasn't ready to say the real reasons out loud and he knew for a fact that Levi was in no place to want to hear them.
For a while it was always Erwin who had to approach Levi with offers of tea so that he could enjoy his company and make small steps towards the inside of the younger mans incredibly fortified walls. Levi never sought out Erwin on his own, he was still obviously torn between his original plan of taking up the bounty on Erwin's head and begrudging respect for the man. Erwin didn't want to push to hard so allowed Levi to mostly come to terms with Erwin on his own, Erwin was nothing if not confident and he knew he would win Levi over. It wasn't just because of vanity that he thought that way. It was because he could see so much in Levi, beyond the blatant strength and talent was a heart that was incredibly pure and loving despite the man's harsh demeaner and even harsher background.
Erwin saw so much in Levi, to him the steel eyed gaze held so much depth of character, such a strong over flow of strength and a depth of humanity that would sometimes catch Erwin's breath in his throat and throw his words into a useless limbo. After each cup of tea they shared Erwin's heart would be left feeling swollen and stuck in the wrong place. Even when very little was said, or when they spoke of incredibly mundane things. It was confusing at first that he could feel so passionately, but be so unwilling to name the feelings. It scared him that his feelings could scare the man away from him, Erwin could see the distrust in the way Levi examined him and he didn't want to give him a single reason to feel vindicated in that distrust.
#aot headcanons#levi ackerman#erwin smith#eruri#levi/erwin#erwin/levi#aot#snk#attack on titan#erwin danchou#erwin aot#eruri feels#erwin headcanons#levi headcanons
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Auraugust Prompt 28 - Treasure
Wow I’m an hour late to my own fic posting. But I still made it.
Jacky had never quite understood people’s obsession with collecting expensive and utterly useless things. What was the difference between a cup made out of gold and one made from sturdy steel when both would hold a drink just fine? Why did people need to collect gold and silver jewelry that offered nothing in terms of protection? Such things were not treasures to her. As someone who’d spent a long time just trying to survive, a good meal or a sturdy weapon held more value than all the gold in the world.
The only piece of jewelry she wore was a horn ring she’d made from some of the steel from her broken gun. Because the weapon had been gold and red in color, some people seemed to think the ring was made of gold. Other people, who she assumed thought she was trying to flaunt wealth or something, pointed out it wasn’t real gold. She would always just tell them in a deadpan voice that she knew that, and it was just colored steel. She did not care for the item’s monetary value, only that it was a piece of a weapon that had helped her get where she is.
Things like that were probably things that she’d consider treasures. She considered most of her weapons precious items after all the time and work she’d put into them. And sometimes she’d hang on to pointless things if someone else gave them to her. She certainly didn’t need that ‘cool rock’ as Akku had put it that the young Miqo’te had given to her. But for some reason she kept it on a shelf anyway. Even if she did sometimes wonder why he picked up a rock and decided to give it to her. And others too, she wasn’t the only one to receive one.
Still, she liked that rock more than anything sold by the Ul’Dahn goldsmiths.
She had a small collection of things given to her for similar reasons (although Akku was the only one who’d given her a literal rock). She would consider these her treasures far more than any of the expensive things she had. Although she still didn’t know why people gave such random things to her, for some reason she liked them.
One would never catch her looking for gold, but sometimes one may see her looking at a two gil trinket with a puzzled but fond expression on her face.
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The Mechanisms as Random Birds I Found on the Internet
Did anyone want this? No. Do I know anything about birds? Also no. Anyways, here’s a shitpost I spent way too long on.
Jonny d’Ville: Northern Mockingbird
First and foremost, here’s Jonny! An asshole! A bastard! An all around terrible person! He shall be a northern mockingbird. This fucking bird has no redeemable qualities other than that it is pretty and a GREAT singer. This is a very aggressive bird. Very territorial. If it had opposable thumbs, it would probably shoot you in like the foot or something. I don’t think these birds are very smart. Just like a certain “captain” that we know. The state bird of Texas, among all places. Never trust a texas. In true Texas fashion, the 1927 legislation declaring the Northern Mockingbird the state’s official bird stated that the species is “a fighter for the protection of his home, falling, if need be, in its defence, like any true texan.” Now Jonny burned down a Texas - maybe not this Texas but whatever. I read somewhere that a mockingbird could peck someone’s dick off, and honestly? Valid.
Gunpowder Tim: Southern Cassowary
Okay, hear me out. This bird is a little bitch - or rather a b i g bitch. In a good way. Look at this fucking bird. It’s majestic. Doesn’t it look just SO trustworthy. What a trustworthy man. And very pretty. Pretty, pretty bird. Who could squash you like a fucking ant. This is one Violent bird. Tim is one Violent person. The cassowary makes a low roaring sound like a fucking dinosaur. I love dinosaurs. DID I MENTION IT LAYS GREEN EGGS. Now you might say, well Tim is a human and humans don’t lay green eggs. Fuck you. It’s never explicitly stated that our very own Gunpowder Tim doesn’t lay green eggs. Also comes with a built-in helmet. As everyone except Tim and the southern cassowary says, safety first! Strikes me as a very egotistical bird. If the cassowary weren’t a bird, I don’t think it would wear a seatbelt.
Ashes O’Reilly: California Condor
Okay, so. This is a cool fucking bird. Just look at it. M a j e s t i c. Do you know who else is really fucking cool? Ashes. They have so much power. Also condors are beautiful birds. Oh my god. California condors are very graceful fliers. For Ashes, I almost went with the brown falcon - one of “Nature’s arsonists”, but other than arson, it’s a rather boring bird. Just brown. And a falcon. BUT THE CALIFORNIA CONDOR. Now that’s a cool bird. The god of the sky. Actually, in the “research” for this post I found a blog post in 2011 from someone who has genuinely worshipped condors as gods since they were a teenager and honestly? Valid. (disclaimer; I am aware that many native cultures worship animals and nature, however I don’t feel qualified to talk about that. I don’t mean any harm by this post.)
DrumBot Brian: Shoebill Stork
Well. I did have a rather difficult time finding a bird that has a complex set of moral values. Who would’ve thought?? I did almost use a praying mantis, just for a little variety. I’ve never met someone who wouldn’t rip off the head of their lover. BUT ANYWAYS. Here we have Brian the Shoebill Stork. He looks so nice. But he will not hesitate to decapitate your baby crocodile. Also very patient!! Like a dinosaur! This bird has the most complex set of moral values of any bird I could find in about thirty seconds. If Brian didn’t decapitate so many young crocodiles there would be much too many! Too many crocodiles! The horror! I’ve also seen a gif of Boring Brian delicately picking up a duckling and placing it back down. Dunno what happened after, though. Don’t ask. Apparently the shoebill stork makes “machine-gun noises” which I think Jonny would enjoy fucking around with. A place that I forgot to write down reportedly called the bird “Abu-Markhub” meaning “father of the slipper” which,,,, yeah.
Raphaella la Cognizi: Kea
Also known as the “clown of the alps”, the Kea resides in the mountains, as the only alpine parrot. Pretty cool. I want to be a clown. But like, a cool clown - not one that hides in a sewer and eats children… Anyways, I’m getting off topic. The kea is the smartest bird I could find. Raphaella is the science officer of the Aurora so it seemed fitting. Look at this photo. That’s science at work! Kea can use basic tools! And reportedly have the intelligence of a four-year-old child! That’s pretty smart! Also it has wings! Raph has wings! Apparently kea enjoy attacking sheep, dogs, horses, etc. and just generally fuck around with people. Imagine what this bird could do with opposable thumbs…
Marius von Raum: Victoria Crowned Pigeon
My criteria for Bird Marius was essentially a stupid looking bird with a ridiculously long name. I was originally going to go with the King of Saxony Bird of Paradise solely for the name (just look at it! It’s so dumb! Who the fuck is the king of saxony!) however it bored me. So! Here we have Doctor Baron Marius von Raum as the Victoria Crowned Pigeon (also sometimes referred to as the Blue Crowned Pigeon). Genuinely, this was my favourite bird as a child. I fucking love this funky little bastard. Apparently, it’s the largest pigeon species in the world and can grow to be the size of a turkey. A turkey! What the fuck! This bird thinks it’s all that. (I mean, it’s not wrong). It was named after Queen Victoria but like,,,,, Fuck The Monarchy. Also eats a lot of figs. The bird - not the queen. Or maybe the queen I dunno. Marius seems like the kind of person who hates figs but eats them anyways so he doesn’t feel inferior to the Fig Lord. How the fuck is this bird not extinct yet.
Ivy Alexandria: Common Raven
Ivy Alexandria, the Common Raven. Ravens are extremely smart! Like seriously - near where I live, there’s an animal shelter with a raven and you can hold a conversation with it. It’s amazing! They also have great memories and hold grudges - so don’t mess with them. Oh! They can also use hand gestures, which for birds is insanely cool! They are the literal “birdbrain”. Sometimes they collect little trinkets, which I think is really sweet. Now, I don’t believe ravens can read but like,,,,, I dunno. I read an article recently about ravens doing “weird things with ants”. Apparently they like to play with them. Ravens have been known to sit in an anthill and let ants crawl all over their feathers for no apparent reason. Now, while nothing has been canonically stated involving Ivy and ants, you can’t prove Ivy doesn’t go sit and hang out with a bunch of ants.
Nastya Rasputina: Andean Potoo
The Andean Potoo is the most mysterious breed of the seven or so potoo species; almost nothing is known other than their vague appearance and their stomach contents (large insects like beetles and grasshoppers, if you were interested). While we do know quite a bit about Nastya, I thought this bird fit her pretty well. In answer to the question “Are potoos friendly?” a website said: “The short answer is ‘no’. The slightly longer answer is ‘it depends’.” This sounds like Nastya and her lesbian spaceship girlfriend. Potoos are VERY good at camouflage; like Nastya in Aurora’s veins?? I dunno, might be a bit of a stretch. They are shy, secretive birds. Sounds fun. Potoos are also VERY good at catching insects and shit. This point might not be relevant, but whatever. Andean potoos might mate for life; scientists don’t know. Let’s say that they do. If Nastya were this bird, she could be eaten by a weasel. Weasels said fuck Nastya rights. Fuck weasels.
The Toy Soldier: Atlantic Puffin
OH MY GOD. I love the Toy Soldier. The Atlantic Puffin. I don’t have many reasons for this one other that IT’S ADORABLE. This is my favourite bird. Just look at it!!! Hnnnnnnn. Baby puffins are called pufflingssssss. Oh my god. Also look up the bird call of the atlantic puffin; it is the best thing ever. Puffins are very sociable birds and live in like giant flocks or something. They’re very neat birds and also waterproof! Like wood! They shed the outer layer of their beaks once a year! Like wood! They live in burrows! Like wood! They can hold a fuck ton of fish in their beaks! Like wood! They have a really fucking wierd tongue! Like wood!
BONUS: Dr. Carmilla: Lammergier (Bearded Vulture)
Do I know anything about Dr. Carmilla? Nope! I think she’s a vampire but like???? Anyways, just look at this bird. It’s pretty self-explanatory. The Lammergeier is one Badass Bird. It is one of the largest old-world vultures. I don’t know what that means. It can grow up to four feet tall, though! And has a wingspan between seven and nine feet. That’s a big fucking bird! They have no natural predators, much like a certain immortal vampire (maybe???). It eats primarily bone and bone marrow and has a nasty habit of carrying off lambs, calves, and dead children. Remind you of the Good Doctor and her Band? Probably not. I bet Jonny has eaten at least one dead child, though. The lammergeier can also live up to the ripe old age of 45 (old in bird years?). Supposedly a lammergeier killed the greek playwright Aeschelus by mistaking his large bald head for a rock and dropping a turtle on it. Sounds very Carmilla. BUT WAIT I HAVEN’T GOTTEN TO THE BEST PART. This bird dies it’s fur the colour of blood to look more intimidating! Supposedly this is a mark of status, as well. That’s one badass bird!!!
WELL THAT WAS AN ADVENTURE. A useless adventure, sure. Fuck you. I had fun.
#the mechanisms#jonny d'ville#gunpowder tim#ashes o'rielly#drumbot brian#raphaella la cognizi#ivy alexandria#marius von raum#nastya rasputina#the toy soldier#dr carmilla??#birds???#i dont know what the Fuck this is
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