#her dad is still carrying that memory and that self as well and they are able to find that for and in each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

olive-fics · 2 months

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An Old friend.

Synopsis: After not seeing Abby for nearly 5 years, she suddenly comes back into your life like it was nothing.

Men DNI, Mature readers only, reposts are especially welcomed!, Not proof read lol

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The notification on your phone was just another blip in the background of your busy life. Work, deadlines, and the relentless march of time had pushed a lot of things into the recesses of your memory — including Abby Anderson.

The relentless flow of people outside in the streets and sidewalks caught your eye as you watched from above in your little cubical. . Lost in your thoughts, you were startled by another notification, this time from a friend, Ellie Williams.

You had met Ellie back in middle school, both of you were little nerds obsessed with savage starlight and music so you two instantly clicked.

"Wanna grab drinks after work? It'll be fun, pus it's a small break from work for you."

of course.

"Idk. . Who else is going? You bringing your 3rd girlfriend of the month with or something?"

"haha Y/N. Just us tonight, maybe we can find you a little girlfriend.."

"Ellie be so fr rn."

"ok ok. but just saying, If there's a hot lesbian there, I'm giving her your number."

"I swear to god.."

The post-Abby relationship had proven to be more challenging than you initially thought. Since the breakup and her abrupt move away, you hadn't gone into any other serious relationships. Sure, you engaged in casual conversations with a few people, but nothing seemed to progress beyond the talking stage.

Your friend Ellie was quite the opposite of you. Ellie is a party enthusiast, a self-proclaimed player, and a lesbian with unapologetic masculine energy. You never really understood how you two clicked.

Waiting for the clock at work to finally strike 5, signaling the end of the day, you finally get to go home. With a sigh, you scanned your closet, hoping to find something not so eye catching, you're just there for some drinks with Ellie. Plus.

You're probably going to be the one needing to carry her home later..

Throwing on a simple pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with a small work logo on it, you head out to the bar.

Ellie: "Y/N! Look at youuu! Finally out of the house.." Y/N:"Yeah yeahh.." Ellie:"Come- I already bought us a drink- then lets go dance."

You sighed, the corners of your lips turning up in a laugh as you joined Ellie.

Ellie: "So , Y/N. What's been happening in your mysterious world lately?"

Y/N: "Oh, you know, the usual. Work, school, a bit of Netflix.."

Ellie: "Of course.. So, anyone special in your life these days?"

Y/N: "Not really, just the usual talking stages. And you, Ellie? Still breaking hearts?"

Ellie: "Ah, you know me too well." .

The night had carried on, a blur of clinking glasses, casual conversations, and a soundtrack of questionable music.

Eventually, Ellie had to use the restroom, leaving you left by the drinks alone.

Feeling the effects of the drinks, you couldn't help but feel the buzz that had settled in. It had been a while since you let loose and allowed yourself to be carried away by the intoxicating combination of alcohol, and Ellie's horrible dad jokes.

As you searched through the crowd to find Ellie after noticing she disappeared that's when you heard it.

CLANK!

Before you could react you felt a rough hand grab yours and pull you up gently. Startled, you looked up to meet the gaze of the person who had inadvertently collided with you. Their eyes, filled with concern, met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Why did she look so familiar..?

Suddenly snapping you out of your questioning they finally spoke.

"Are you okay?" they asked, their voice tinged with genuine worry.

Caught off guard you nodded, still processing the sudden turn of events. As you steadied yourself, you couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that washed over you.

With a grateful smile, you huffed out a; "I'm fine, thank you. Just got a little lost in the crowd."

You then looked down at your shirt, it was stained red from the strawberry cocktail in her hands.

"Great.." you muttered under your breath, a mix of amusement and frustration.

"Let me buy you another drink to make up for it,"..

Caught in a moment of indecision, you looked up at the girl who had inadvertently stained your shirt.. Your thoughts shifted back to where you and Ellie had been seated for the night. You couldn't just leave Ellie, but the genuine offer of another drink lingered in the air, creating a little dilemma.

"Um, I appreciate the offer, really, but I'm actually here with a friend," you explained, trying to not seem rude.

The girl nodded understandingly, "No worries. I didn't mean to intrude on your night. If your friend is around, maybe we can all grab a drink together?"

You shrugged and nodded, why not?

She had noticed the stain worsening and quickly offered, "Could I at least help you wash that out? I'd hate to ruin your shirt completely..."

You looked down at the stain, and you couldn't deny it was pretty bad.

"Well, it's a unique fashion statement now, I guess,"

She laughed and gently took your hand. "Follow me."

You both went into the restrooms, you propped yourself on top of the sink. The girl then grabbed a Wad of paper towels and ran them under cold water to start blotting at your chest with them.

"Sorry again for the mess." she sighed and made eye contact with you, only to quickly look away.

Did she know something you didn't?..

Clearing your throat you looked down at her from the sink.

"It's really no worries.. It's an old shirt.."

"Still..You're all sticky now.."

"I think I've been through worse." You stifle a laugh and look away.

"So.. What's your name..?" She asked attempting to make small talk.

"Y/N."

"Right."

"Anyways..let me go buy you that drink."

"True."

You get off the counter and follow the girl back to the bar.

Eventually Ellie came back to her seat next to you.

"Oh? Y/N..Who's this? hmmmm?" She couldn't help but tease you.

"Oh please.. it's just a friend.."

"Right..Wait..what happened to your shirt?? I swear to god whoever did that to you I'll kick their ass-"

"It's okay.." You laughed and calmed Ellie's nerves.

"Accidents happen."

You look to the girl and laugh quietly. God you needed to go home.

"You seem on edge." Ellie called out as you two walked back to your apartment.

"Just..buzzed." You lied right to her. goodness.

"I know that's not all y/n."

"That girl was just.. really familiar. Did she seem that way to you too..?"

"Nope. You're just overthinking again."

"probably."

You made your way back to your apartment, eager to shed the stained shirt and uncomfortable jeans. As you undressed, something caught your attention in your pocket — a note with someone's number on it?

great.

Starting up a warm bath you add some bubbles and light a candle, you'll worry about the note later. You took off your bra and got into the bath tub scrolling on your phone to then look at the note sitting on your sink.

Fuck it.

"Hey, This the girl from the bar?" You wrote the text, you questioned if you even really wanted a reply.

Ping!

"hah! Yeah, it's me. wyd? :)"

"Taking a bath :p"

"Cute. Proof my love?"

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ok Ik this sucks but maybe I'll make a part 2..if that's something you guy's would like idk!! :)

#wlw #lesbian #fanfic #tlou fic #abby the last of us #abby tlou #tlou fanfiction #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby x you #abby anderson smut #tlou abby #the last of us part two #the last of us 2 #ellie williams

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livwritesstuff · 6 months

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one thing Steve and Eddie were not prepared for at ALL when they adopted three kids was

siblings

they’re both only children for better or for worse, and sure, they'd had close friends that they thought of as siblings (coughcoughrobinandstevecoughcough) but they were surprised to find out that it's nothing like being actually siblings. it takes a long time for the two of them to catch on to the dynamics that the girls seem to just have innately within them

the fighting tends to be mostly between Moe and Robbie. Hazel is the sweet angel baby out of the three and not all that interested arguing about anything

(this creates its own problems though bc Steve and Ed have to make sure she’s not getting completely steam-rolled by her older sisters)

at ages 5 and 3, Moe was aggressively gaslighting Robbie into thinking her favorite color was purple, so that when there were pink and purple items up for grabs, she could have the pink one without any sort of obstacle

at the time, Robbie's personal hero was Moe, so she bought it

they'd been sort of relieved about having three girls because they figured the roughhousing would be kept to a minimum, and it was true that the girls didn't roughhouse all that much, but when they fought, it was fucking brutal. the worst of it was when Moe threw a small chair from a wooden dollhouse set at Robbie's head and she'd needed to go to the E.R. for stitches

around middle school, the girls learned how to keep the whaling on each other completely silent (see this TikTok for reference), and by then they'd also learned some self restraint, so the hospital visits ceased around the same time

uno and sorry are banned in their house. co-op games don't go over all that well either (they even argue about puzzles so sometimes Steve and Eddie just grit their teeth and endure a game night for the memories and quality time and whatever).

once the girls are older, trivia-based games tend to be the go-to. they've all got their own gaps in knowledge so there's enough material for ribbing each other but the game is still able to carry itself

Moe/Steve are the only ones who can answer sports questions without making wild guesses Hazel usually dominates pop culture and science Robbie and Ed are the best at history and art they all suck at geography

who remembers the cranium games? do we recall hullabaloo? Harrington family fav

Steve and Eddie never do get a sense of when exactly the girls are fighting and when they’re conspiring together, mostly because they can switch between the two states on a dime and their poor dads can’t keep up

#and thats not even getting into how much they fight over clothing #it caught steve and ed off guard because they were all different sizes through elementary school but once they hit middle school and they’r #shit totally hits the fan #steve debates putting locks on the girls’ closets just so he can have a moment of peace #steddie #steddie dads #liv’s steddie dads verse #steve harrington #eddie munson

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morallyinept · 2 months

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Shoot: The Rake Magazine, October 2016, Issue 48

Photographer: Anders Overgaard

Interviewer: Tom Chamberlin

Grooming: Jessica Ortiz

Full interview, behind the scenes, outtakes & shoot photographs below. 👇🏻

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

• Cover shot and original images used in the magazine

• Outtakes and behind the scenes images.

• Full Interview

As a stickler for timing, it was a tad disconcerting for me that half an hour into an hour-long interview, Pedro Pascal was still barely a year old. The family history of this actor is a story in itself, one that Pedro intends to write one day.

Happily, Pedro was very generous with his time, and, as with our photoshoot at The Carlyle Hotel in New York, and with every role he has played, he understands the difference between a hash-job and a job well done. Perhaps this is why Pedro will be on screen pretty much non-stop for the next year and is fast building an enviable C.V.

His roles as a protagonist span big-budget Hollywood movies and the finer works of subscription television, namely Game of Thrones and Narcos, whose second series is currently available on Netflix. It turns out he is also the epitome of America: an immigrant who has taken his talent and ambition and made a success of himself in a country that takes people in and gives them a chance to succeed. And The Rake was given the opportunity of an in-depth discussion with this star player.

I should firstly elaborate on the extraordinary tale of his early life. His family name is Balmaceda, his father is a doctor, and his late mother (whose maiden name was Pascal) welcomed José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal into the world on April 2, 1975 in Santiago, Chile. Those of you familiar with the South American governments of the time will know that this was not a simple epoch in which to be born in Chile. It was less than two years since Augusto Pinochet had deposed Salvador Allende, the first democratically elected head of state in Chile, in a coup d’état. Allende killed himself in the coup but his supporters remained a thorn in the junta’s side. So, as any self-respecting dictator would, Pinochet found opposition members, rounded them up, and tortured them for information on other dissenters who could be found, rounded up, and so on.

One such occasion was some years later, when our cover star enters the fray. A cousin of Pascal’s mother was Andrés Pascal Allende, a powerful revolutionary and supporter of his uncle. One day, during a gunfight, this freedom fighter would be given medical aid and shelter chez Balmaceda, and it would be this gesture that put the family on the ‘list’. Pedro recalls (through no memory of his own but that of his father’s) that, “the Pascal family wasn’t particularly safe." He adds: “There was a priest who was brought [Andrés], who had been shot in the leg, to my mum and dad’s house. My father took him in, hid them for a few days, and patched up his leg. I was a baby, my sister was just three, and she says she has a vague memory of being really angry that our parents had put strangers’shit in her bedroom, including guns and stuff.”

The innocence of youth! But the story becomes more and more like a Bourne movie: “The priest was taken into custody and tortured; he gave names, and they went looking for my father at the hospital he worked at. By chance it got to him that they were downstairs, asking where to find Dr. José Balmaceda. My father sneaks out the back and gets my mum, his sister gets my sister and me. They work out that their only option is to go into hiding, which they do for about six months, and they end up sneaking into the Venezuelan embassy and sought asylum.”

You can see why we spent so long on the subject. His light-hearted approach to talking about this may be because he was too young (about nine months old when they came out of hiding) to have been affected by the process, but there is pride in his parents’ actions, the way in which they carried him and his sister to safety in a climate in which even children were not safe. The solution wasn’t ‘doing an Assange’ and locking themselves in the embassy - they had to leave.

Though they would ultimately settle in the United States, it was Denmark that took them in first. Pascal was still too young to recall a great deal; after a year his father was contacted by a Chilean professor in San Antonio, Texas, and was offered a job. San Antonio was a great place for South American immigrants. With a large Spanish-speaking population, it wasn’t as much of a departure, or culture shock, for the family as Denmark had been.

They lived there until 1986, and it was during this time that he developed a love of movies and the desire to become an actor. He says of that time: “Strangely it was my father’s fault, because he was a huge moviegoer and he would take us to the movies a few times a week throughout my childhood. Of course, we got cable television and HBO came into the fold. Uncensored, uninterrupted movies in your living room: it was some kind of fucking miracle. I remember sitting there and it feeling like absolute magic to me. I remember perfectly watching my first movie on HBO and thinking it was magic.”

While television was developing its appeal, cinema was the family craze, and his father was the most zealous disciple. Pascal adds: “I am telling you, we would go several times a week. And it wouldn’t matter, if my dad wanted to see a movie, and there wasn’t a babysitter, we would go with him or he’d just want to take us. It is my father and Steven Spielberg’s fault - Spielberg being the ruling aesthetic of Hollywood at that time. Throw MTV and Nickelodeon into the mix, and public school systems in San Antonio and very cool parents - these were socialising us and forming us. It is in such stark contrast to what it would be in Chile. In Chile I have 34 first cousins. And in Texas it was just us.”

Though he is a self-confessed “dork”, his hinting at loneliness, and his circumstances as an immigrant in a poor neighbourhood in San Antonio being a psychological burden, is an interesting passage through which he developed his sense of imagination, fantasy and the requisite skills as an actor. “I spent so much time alone and I wasn’t allowed to watch cable from morning into night, so my options were me and my imagination and it was all so completely ruled by the idea of being on these movie adventures,” he says. “I remember seeing Rambo and The Big Chill. I was fascinated by [The Big Chill], as JoBeth Williams was the mother in Poltergeist, which I had seen seven times already in the movie theatre, and I was shouting, ‘That’s the mum from Poltergeist, this movie is amazing!’ I was a big reader as well. I read Stephen King from a very young age.” He tellingly concludes that movies “ruled my imagination and to an extent my identity."

His isolation grew when his father moved the family to California when Pedro was 11. His father was part of a team of fertility experts that had pioneered an advanced form of I.V.F. called gamete intra-fallopian transfer, or GIFT. But this move took him away from a Spanish-speaking neighbourhood and into Newport Beach, Orange County, “which is about a 99.9 per cent white town." He found it hard to fit in, though not because of how he looked. “It was more a matter of me being a nerd and a movie geek and not a good surfer and interested in art,” he says. “I already knew I wanted to be an actor.” His determination had been made manifest by spending his free time reading plays and going to see Search and Destroy by Howard Korder at the South Coast Repertory, which left him “fucking floored."

This problematic period in his youth might explain why he decided to move to the other side of the country, to New York City, to study theatre, where his inclination to academia was compromised by metropolitan life. He says: “Once I made it to New York I wasn’t reading the things I was supposed to read. I was a terrible student.” The Tisch School of the Arts, a school with an impressive list of alumni, including Woody Allen, Alec Baldwin and Billy Crystal, nevertheless provided a stable platform for him to pursue his acting ambitions. He could break out from being the little child in a strange town and muck in with like-minded people in a city founded on immigration and pluralism.

This time in his life ushered in the beginning of a long-standing friendship with American Horror Story and (gravely underappreciated) Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip star Sarah Paulson. Pedro’s charisma made it very easy to become friends with him, Paulson tells The Rake, explaining that it was a “just-add-water friendship." What drew her to Pedro, she adds, was that “he had an enormous amount of gravitas and at the same time a great deal of levity. He would be the first person to fall on the floor laughing.”

After Tisch he found himself working plenty in theatre, too. One particular play, Beauty of the Father, at the Manhattan Theatre Club would begin another friendship with an acting luminary, Star Wars and Ex Machina star Oscar Isaac. Isaac told The Rake, in regards to both of them achieving recognition around the same time and at similar ages: “We started off-Broadway, so for both of us it has been a parallel path where we have been treading the boards together and facing a lot of uphill climbing and rejection and trying to make a living here in New York. To be able to go on that journey together and for me to be able to see him explode on to the scene, I couldn’t be prouder of him.” He says of Pedro: “He is someone who has a very profound depth to him. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he has a great mind and incredible empathy, and he is also incredibly sharp-witted and fun to be around.”

Pascal would find that achieving the kind of success he had imagined was to be parked while he worked solely to support himself. He did the rounds, doing irregular slots on long-running U.S. television shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, NYPD Blue, Law & Order, Without a Trace and CSI. He says: “The idea of experiencing exposure or being on the cover of a magazine like The Rake was totally abandoned at a certain point well into my thirties, once I’d learnt how to live and support myself as an actor and be unknown outside a small community. I had come to terms with the idea of just hoping to work.” This is the fate of 90 per cent of actors who graduate from drama schools, and frankly the realisation and acceptance of living a life in which you support yourself with work speaks to a very grounded, grateful and pragmatic individual.

Fortunately for us, his prospects soon changed.

In 2014 he appeared in the world’s biggest T.V. show since Friends, Game of Thrones. It was the fourth series that saw the arrival of a new kind of Alpha male in a series with no shortage of them. Pascal played Oberyn Martell, the Prince of Dorne. However, where Charles Dance’s anti-hero ne plus ultra Tywin Lannister commanded the ‘patriarchy’ side of masculinity, and there was the brutish, drinking and farting muscle mass that was Rory McCann as The Hound, Pascal’s Oberyn was a more complex and interesting personification of masculinity and sexuality. Oberyn was affecting from the start, and even before we see Pascal’s incarnation he is described as “not a man for welcome parties” who is famous for “fucking half of Westeros."

His demeanour was a refreshing change to the grimy, armour-clad male leads that were a mainstay of the storyline: colourful, well-groomed, softly spoken yet threatening. You get an idea of the nature of the character from Tyrion Lannister’s face (threatened, anxious) when he discovers who had come from Dorne for the royal wedding. Then, when we meet Oberyn, in long, elegant robes of mustard and gold, there is a menace and intent; the audience salivates as it waits to find out what he is capable of. And we are kept waiting. What is most interesting about Oberyn is that his lust is not limited to the fairer sex. Oberyn is a sexual omnivore: he has what he describes as his paramour, Ellaria Sand (played by Indira Varma), who acts as both angel and devil on his shoulders, reminding him that he can take whatever he wants.

His fluid sexuality is culturally under-represented in film, television and certainly music. The co-creators of the show, D.B. Weiss and David Benioff, have used the fantastical setting of Westeros to curate a fascinating experiment into what a ‘man’ really is and how audiences react to sexual behaviour. It is not controversial to say that even hinting at homosexual tendencies can put off a chunk of the male audience, sad as that may be. The fact that Oberyn is convincing as masculine, strong and fierce, without any suggestion that his sexuality will undermine his masculinity for the audience, is a real feat in developing cultural norms. It is a benchmark for progressive leading men, and considering the success of this one, we hope there is more to follow.

Not only is Oberyn bisexual, he is openly so. His arrogance and comfort with himself means that he needn’t hide it like many other characters in the series do. Pascal says: “It’s fucking hilarious because straight guys fucking love Oberyn. In talking to D.B. Weiss and David Benioff, I was really surprised to hear that through the audition process there were takes on Oberyn that, because in the audition scene it is revealed that he includes a man in the mix of his orgy and reveals himself to be bisexual, they would immediately interpret him as more effeminate and add that quality to the character. What had been so right for them was my not having done that. It is interesting because it never even occurred to me that he wouldn’t be so completely male and have the quality of something Alpha and archetypically masculine. It made complete sense that the world was his and every part of it was his, and everything he wanted to partake of, it is very much in the writing.”

Benioff took the time to speak to The Rake to lend some words of praise to Pascal. He says: “It was a very difficult part to cast because [Oberyn] encompasses so many contradictions: he is charismatic, he is ferocious, he is sexy, but also he can be quiet and intimate. It can be very hard to find someone who can do everything. He can be hard to pin down because he is so multi- faceted. A big problem was that no one felt quite sexy enough.”

And then along comes our cover star, who “did a very cheap video on his iPhone. It couldn’t have been more low-rent, but it was incredibly compelling. It’s interesting, as it’s not that we had a particular look at the time. We didn’t know what we wanted until we saw it, and with Pedro it was pretty clear.” He adds of Pedro’s interpretation: “He brought a sense of humour to the part. There’s something fun about someone with a sense of humour who is utterly fearless. There is also something a little insane about that.”

Pedro enjoyed the rakish side of his character; the costume designer Michele Clapton helped him tap into the character’s braggadocio. He says: “Stylistically, what Michele did, I’m never going to look that good again. I mean, that fucking mustard robe with the leather belt and sometimes a sash. These are all feminine garbs that could not have been more masculine. It made me feel so powerful and male.”

Pedro waxes lyrical about his employers on Game of Thrones: “To be honest with you, my take on the part had everything to do with what was on the page. I looked up Oberyn in the books and it’s all told through the perspective of Tyrion Lannister - it’s a very cool character, but the way David and Dan [Weiss] fleshed him out on the show was a pure set-up for success for me. I give all credit to them: it was their idea to create a progressive, radical badass that two straight married men have a crush on. You could tell they loved this guy. That was why it ended up being so good, and I understand that it could have gone in the wrong direction by being interpreted differently, but I didn’t see it in any other way.”

The demise of Oberyn was the first time in four years I wanted to pack in watching the series. There was a sense of having had enough with the show for not giving me enough of this character. They held back on how exciting Oberyn could be, with his athleticism and the insouciant cool of fighting a man wielding a sword that was, as Pedro puts it, “quite literally my height” - and, of course, the way in which he ‘dispatched’ him. Going from that high of poetic justice - from being everyone’s favourite spear-wielding hero - to the crushing low of the red-porridge mess of his head crushed on the floor in the space of five minutes was genius television making; never was an audience so crushed as well.

Even Pedro hated it.

When I shared with him my frustration, he related by saying: “Yes, because it feels terrible. Why should I go to bed with this horrific feeling in my heart? I love that people felt that way about Oberyn because I had felt that way about the Red Wedding (a shocking scene in which several major characters were killed off at a wedding feast). I almost stopped. I was in the process of auditioning for Oberyn and I had already had my heart crushed. I remember thinking very specifically, ‘Soon it’s time for bed and I’m in a place of such darkness because of watching television - this isn’t good for me’.”

Fortunately, Pascal’s particular brand of bravura masculinity returned in 2015 with Narcos, Netflix’s true events epic about Pablo Escobar and the rise of the Colombian drug trade. It is a show The Economist describes as “doing a better job than most narco-dramas in getting across the brutal seediness of the drugs business.” Pascal plays Javier Peña, a man who isn’t afraid to break a few eggs to make his omelette, a man very much part of the aforementioned brutal seediness.

In an era in which scrutiny of our institutions is critical, a show set in a time when there was plenty brushed under the carpet conducts an interesting moral waltz with the audience’s empathy. Pedro says: “I don’t see him as moral. I see him as pragmatic and work obsessed. It is all due credit to the creators of the show, who allow me to interpret the character in the most interesting way possible. I love that Peña and the writers of Narcos and Netflix are totally game for him being a character who exists more ambiguously and represents the greyer elements of this drugs war that the U.S. gets involved with. I think he, as a character, is definitely wanting to get the job done however he sees fit, and this is a guy who never got married, who never had attachments, who could easily disappear into this world with nothing to lose, and I think that’s what makes him good at it and helps him achieve some of his objectives - because he can assimilate, he can participate, he can get on the inside culturally and psychologically, and be totally badass, of course.”

He has plenty more to do in the second series, so the challenge for Pascal is to elevate the performance and not leave it still and stagnant, a challenge he revels in. He says: “I feel like, in a way, the first season is, in terms of the character, somewhat of an introduction and opens up the opportunity to see more in the second season. When you meet him he’s already on the inside, he’s having sex with a gorgeous prostitute who he has this strange relationship to: they are lovers, she’s his informant, they are friends, and we don’t get that many private adventures of Peña in the first season. I would say in the second series there is more opportunity to spend a little more time with that character, so it almost feels like season one and season two is a two-act play, and in the second act Peña has more to do.”

Now, as expected, momentum is very much in Pedro’s favour. Next year will be a big year for him. We have seen a trailer for his first feature film, The Great Wall, the first attempt by anyone at joining the forces of eastern and western cinema. He teams up with Matt Damon in this cross-cultural epic directed by Zhang Yimou. He says of the film that, “We shot it in China for five months. When I was just graduating from college, Matt Damon turned into a comet as an actor, and rightly so, so he has been very famous for most of my adult life. It was a big deal to go work alongside someone as famous and talented as he is. From my perspective he has always been much more an actor than a celebrity.”

When he began talking about Zhang Yimou, his unashamed inner nerd came to the fore: “When I expanded my curiosities as I got older, I was reading plays but I was also getting into independent and foreign cinema. I saw Raise the Red Lantern in 1991, and saw The Story of Qiu Ju by myself because I was that much of a fucking dork - I walked by myself to see the Chinese movie that was playing - and I saw Shanghai Triad four times at the Angelika [in New York] while I was at college. I saw it early and said to friends, ‘Have you seen this?’ I took two friends and I took my mom when she visited New York to go see Zhang Yimou’s films. I had a period in the nineties when I was really quite obsessed with his movies. He showed what he could do with Hero and House of Flying Daggers, which were very different from his arthouse films he made in the nineties, which are all brilliant, and now this is taking it a step further because it is a big Hollywood ‘creature-feature’ that meets epic Chinese cinema. So for me it was very surreal, because I had admired him as a filmmaker and one I never expected to meet or work with - and then in my first film. I was working with him alongside Matt Damon and Willem Dafoe and Andy Lau and an amazing Chinese crew and brilliant Chinese actors. I had no idea how it would turn out but it was a very surreal experience.”

Damon was able to talk to The Rake about having Pedro as a teammate on the movie. It may be obvious as to why Damon, one of the most respected and loved men in Hollywood, would have been picked for the part, but why the relative newcomer Pascal? Damon without hesitation answers: “He was picked because he was the best actor available for the part; he is a fantastic actor.” He cited Pedro’s time acting in the theatre in New York as the way in which he developed his craft. He says: “He came out of [Tisch] 20 years ago and just started doing theatre. If you can last into your forties doing that - he had his 10,000 hours a decade and a half ago. He’s really mastered his craft and you can see that with the level of technique and how agile he is as an actor, he can really do anything. I’d say he can dial up or dial down whatever the director needs. When you are that versatile, it is a real boon to a director because they can temper the piece exactly how they like. It’s really fun to play off him because he does different things, he has a lot of fun and there is a lot of joy in his work, and we laughed a lot. I have always said about great actors that they are good enough for both of you - they’re so overwhelming that they pull you right into the scene. Personally I end up not having to work because I am being taken, like you board a train and you go along for the ride. That’s what it is like working with Pedro, he is a really uniquely talented guy, but that comes from years of theatre in New York. It is not just the raw talent, he has honed his technique over the last couple of years.”

Pedro feels his rise to fame in his early forties comes as a double-edged sword. On the one hand fame at a young age “fucks you up. I don’t think that as a rule, but it can fuck you up.” On the other hand, “in my experience I feel quite naïve. I was doing plays and guest spots and some bullshit indie films that no one will ever see. It is interesting to be completely grown up and feel like a freshman.”

Kingsman: The Golden Circle, which is due out next year, was the same for him. He says: “I was just in some kind of strange candy shop doing Kingsman 2, finding myself in a scene with Jeff Bridges and Colin Firth and Halle Berry and Channing Tatum and getting to meet Julianne Moore. It was really kind of a movie experience on crack." And reveals that Jack Daniels, is the biggest badass of them all.

This is all to say that Pedro Pascal, the political refugee who employed all of his talent, all of his ambition and passion to create a success of the opportunity given to him in the land of the free, is very much Mr. America. His old friend Sarah Paulson says that, “It is a very sweet thing - watching him land where I always thought he should land. Proud doesn’t begin to cover it; it feels righteous.”

America is built on the type of tolerance, kindness, humility and skill that Pedro Pascal embodies. And his rise to prominence comes at a time when there is a narrative - one that is extremely close to executive power - suggesting walling off Central and South American immigrants, a suggestion Pedro says is “revealing some of the ugliest things of which we are capable as a nation”. Damon agrees with The Rake, saying, “I’ve often thought, especially listening to Donald Trump do his thing, that Pedro’s is the quintessential American story, and that’s why we don’t build walls.”

Perhaps it is the responsibility of magazines like ours to make clear that no one is more American than Pedro Pascal. And it is only fitting that, as America continues to seek progress - the repealing of ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’, its first black president, perhaps its first female president, a fairer medical system - Pedro embodies everything beautiful about a beautiful country, and it feels righteous.

Jett's Pedro's Shoots Masterlist

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal photoshoot #pedro pascal the rake #pedro pascal interview #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal photos #pedro pascal words #pedro pascal magazine

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killergirlfuria · 6 months

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So I may or may not be working on a tiny little very self-indulgent crossover thingy. Will this go anywhere past this pic? We'll see.

The gist of this AU; year is 2029. Prototype and AC1-3 took place in 2012, Resident Evil Village in 2015. Alex and Desmond have been together for 17 years. Through legally sound and morally questionable means, Alex and Desmond ended up as legal caregivers of Elijah, Pariah/Michael, and Rosemary Winters.

From left to right; Desmond, Alex, Elijah, Pariah/Michael, Rosemary, Dana.

Stuff about it under the cut.

While they are messing with Abstergo and Brotherhood in Europe, they befriend one Ethan Winters and, after his death, Mia entrusts them with Rose as she can't take care of her in her deteriorating mental state. And, realistically, they're probably best equipped to giving Rose as normal life as someone as her could get. She grows up happy, aware and accepting of her powers. Hard not to, when out of her two dads one is effectively a demigod and the other is eldritch sentient plague. Being a sentient mold isn't so weird in this setting.

Later when raiding Abstergo bases they find Elijah held there. Desmond, now aware that he has a kid obviously refuses to leave him. They kill Juno as a father-son bonding activity, visit Elijah's mother grave. Cry a bit, argue a bit (he is a traumatized tween) but figure it out. It forces Alex and Desmond to slow down a bit; they do want to give their kids a stable childhood, after all. They thought they had more time, since Rose was barely a toddler, but with Elijah on board they reevaluate. Somehow, Alex ends up being his favorite dad. Desmond is only a little jealous, but he gets it. He likes Alex a whole lot, too.

They have a little break, a little wedding, they wrap up the Templar mess as well as they can for the time being. Desmond takes the Mercer surname and so does Elijah, because Bill does not deserve his name to be carried on.

Desmond becomes a Mentor somewhere in the middle. He's determined to drag the Brotherhood back into functionality whether it likes that or not; no more Bill sending people to die for nothing but his ego. Bill doesn't take it well, of course, but who'd care about him at this point? Desmond has three lifetimes worth of Mentor memories and the scariest dog on the block for a husband.

Alex does science, because he likes it. He's the kind of person to find writing dissertations fun. He may become an university professor; college students tend to be the most agreeable and most entertaining breed of a student. He does photography too. It's a memory-making thing.

They tackle Blacklight properly; find Pariah. Pariah, as it turns out, is actually somewhat unstable, hibernating most of the time, and stuck physically and mentally at 8 years old. Alex offers Blacklight to stabilize him; Pariah accepts. Purges his DNA of irregularities, replaces what's missing with Alex' DNA and the Blacklight. It's a little weird, to retroactively make him Alex' child when he was born before Alex, but that's what they're dealing with now. Pariah is still 8 in every way that matters. Greene named him Michael, which he gladly accepts (he never had a name before), and then he's a Mercer too.

It's 2020 by then, so plague jokes abound.

Dana in the meantime does what any girlboss does, gets her journalist career going, writes a book or two. Is instrumental in orchestrating the public downfall of Abstergo and Blackwatch. Adopts two cats. Struggles to find a girlfriend because things are never boring with the Mercers, but their kind of excitement oft comes with threat of bodily harm, cults, and shady corporations being hunted for sport. She's also kinda sorta infected with a dormant strain of Blacklight because it was either that or dying to whatever Greene infected her with.

In 2029 Desmond is 42 years old, Alex is 46, Elijah is 24, Michael/Pariah is 17 (chronologically 60), Rosemary is 15, and Dana is 38.

#prototype 2009 #assassin's creed #protocreed #re village #re8 #alex mercer #alex mercer prototype #desmond miles #elijah miles #pariah prototype #rosemary winters #dana mercer

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reviewdiaries · 9 months

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Nancy x Ace and the riddle of knowledge in 4x11

The sweet smell of being right on the money, I love it. You know what else I love? The development in this episode. Because things in Horseshoe Bay have gone from suspicious AF to completely demented, and I am HERE FOR IT.

We finally have confirmation for why things have felt so off these last few episodes. And we’ve started to explore the jenga puzzle, if I remove this one thing - vanished as though it never existed - what else falls down? What other relationships and feelings change? Can they be pieced back together again?

Let’s start with my boy Ace, because I personally am really enjoying his storyline. Do I completely get where the frustration lies for those who would have liked to see more pining and curse breaking and TENSION? Absolutely. I too would have loved that, because Ace and Nancy serve up delicious tension for breakfast, and it’s a treat to watch it. But I’m also genuinely enjoying seeing what we’ve got, because it’s all about growth.

Ace has been given time and space this series to find himself and flourish. He’s fought through heartbreak, and yes, that heartbreak has been distorted, we know that now. Can feel the chiming sense of wrong wrong wrong, how his feelings towards Nancy have shifted, vanishing like smoke in the air. Memories and feelings erased until there’s nothing left but the bare bones of a friendship and an aching sense of something gone - reaching for his phone in the middle of the night before realising he has no idea why. Because suddenly he’s left with the sense of a relationship that stalled before it could start, an idle heartbreak, the feeling of throwing himself into work, into the next mystery, the next person who shows an interest. A tension under his skin that he can’t ever explain. But he’s found a job that he loves, he’s carving out his own space, learning where to prioritise, where the important parts of him lie, where they join together, and how to take up his own space in the world.

His sense of self worth is still battered, his issues with his parents rampant, but he’s starting to hold his ground, mark his own boundaries, find an inner steel we’ve not yet seen in him. He’s always been so quick to please, to try and do what others have wanted, and this episode we’re finally seeing him stand his ground.

We haven’t ever seen his parents come into his space before, and we get that not once but three times in this episode. We see the tension and friction between him and his father (which we haven’t seen much of but was alluded to greatly in the first couple of seasons) and we see how his mother tries desperately to keep the peace whilst supporting her son.

GIF Credit @goodobservationshirley

I love this moment. Because Rebbeca is right. The Claw is absolutely Ace’s house, and that means that she and his father are coming to him to lead, they are stepping into his space and they are going to treat it as his, can acknowledge that it’s his, which is such a huge thing. Sure his dad is dismissive and thinks it’s going to go terribly, but that line is drawn. This is Ace’s space, and that means he is the head of the house.

As he becomes more preoccupied with his ghost he becomes less passive with his father. He stands up for himself, he refuses to be cowed by the disappointment, the expected failure. He does this on his terms. And yeah, he stumbles at the start, but he doesn’t let that phase him, he carries on, he leads. He steps into his own and it is such a joy to see. By the end of the episode we have that beautiful moment where his dad comes to tell him how well he did. And moments like this? They’re everything. The growth, the evolution of their relationship. The way they start to meet each other as equals instead of Ace cowering before his dad, it’s amazing to watch.

And then the confrontation with Nancy. Oh guys, they needed this. Sure, it’s about the ghost, not about them. How can they get this argument out when they don’t even remember their feelings for each other? But this is the first time that Ace asserts himself. Stop. I do not consent to what you’ve done. Stop. He never stands up to Nancy. Never holds space for himself, for his needs. The closest we’ve seen him come is 4x02 when he’s desperately pushing for her to tell him what he’s missing. But even then he doesn’t come out and say it, he doesn’t communicate effectively, doesn’t express himself. He acts the part of the spurned wife, veiling everything behind passive aggressive snark and stone wall silence.

This is everything. This is beautiful. This is communication. Expressing what he needs, what he wants, and refusing to back down. This is everything that they have been missing. I’ve said it over and over and over this season, so much of their problem has been their inability or willingness to communicate openly with each other. And here, laying down the groundwork, is the first step. The first flag Ace is planting. A map of muscle memory for the next time he needs to hold his head high and say stop, no, this is not what I want.

But as he starts to find those boundaries, Nancy is finding her sense of self eroded. She is floundering, desperate, panicked by the timeline she’s been thrust into, desperate now she knows there are too smooth edges where her memories have been stitched together. Suddenly she doesn’t know herself, doesn’t trust herself. What is her and what is what’s left behind when it’s been taken - the trip on the pavement versus the assault? What would she do, what could she possibly have deemed so bad it had to be removed? Because this Nancy, the Nancy with the pieces removed, she doesn’t have the framework of her love for Ace, the undying certainty that she would do anything for the man she loves, even tear herself to pieces with her bare hands and a handful of words whispered in the dark. She only has an aching sense of loss and a hundred shifting pieces she can no longer make sense of.

So she goes back to the basics. Back to the handful of things she can hold onto, the facts of the case. Over and over and over as she spirals into panic and fear and the desperate certainty that she is broken beyond repair, irredeemable, lost and alone.

She knows the date. She knows the time. She knows the call log on her phone. The memories are gone but the facts are there. A handful of truths to hold onto and whisper to herself in the dark. We have seen Nancy at her best and at her worst. But even at her worst - lost in the depths of the Hudson name and sure that she can only be the worst version of herself, she knew her mind. Trusted her memories. Could hold onto the pieces of her that she knew to be true. But this, this is a violation that she knows is self inflicted. A scalpel precise removal of pieces of her she doesn’t even know to miss.

We now have a definitive timeline - Ace called Nancy after the boat trip, after the memorial, her hair still wet from washing buttercream icing out. There’s around twenty minutes between that and her going to call on the Sin Eater. And Nancy, because she’s shaken, she’s been given proof that she’s done something she can’t imagine ever doing, no longer trusts herself, no longer trusts what she’d do, what terrible atrocities she could commit. She goes to Ace and tells him that she thinks they are responsible for the Jane Doe.

GIF Credit @whitefluffyyeti

But that doesn’t track, that doesn’t make sense. The Nancy we know and love would never try and erase a murder, cover up something terrible. She’d face it head on, hold herself to the same truth and justice ideal that she holds everyone to, because as far as she’s concerned she’s not special, she’s not above this. If she did something wrong she’d take herself to the police station and confess.

So that’s not it.

But Nancy would also do absolutely anything for those she loves. Not murder, not hiding something like that. But she would absolutely run to the Yacht Club to erase something to save someone she loves, someone like Ace. It’s something time critical, otherwise why would she go there so quickly. She’s desperate. But it’s not something illegal, no for that she’d call Carson, get a lawyer involved, get it sorted out the right way. She’s not always stayed on the right side of the law - too many opportunities to show up the police when they can’t do their jobs, use her lockpicks, her sleuthing beanie. But if it was something illegal, something bad, something murderous, there is no way she’d erase it, she’d work on building the strongest defence possible, but she wouldn’t undo it.

I don’t believe it’s that they accidentally triggered the curse either. We’ve seen before, the Sin Eater erases the memory, it can’t undo the damage. If the curse were triggered, if Ace were doomed to die, the Sin Eater wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop it.

So what does that leave? I genuinely have no clue. There are some great theories floating around about that night, about the Captain of the ship mysteriously cancelling, about the curse that Ace drops overboard. Something about that is off. And we can no longer trust what we’re being shown as viewers. Is what we see the truth? Or is it the altered version after the Sin Eater has removed it from the characters’ collective consciousness? Did Ace and his dad have a lovely bonding fishing trip or did something else happen? Did Nancy and Ace actually have that conversation as we saw it? Clearly not. But what have we had erased? What parts are missing? What jigsaw pieces are we going to be gifted to fill in to make the picture make sense?

My two cents, for what they’re worth - I don’t believe the ghost and the Jane Doe are the same. I think these are two things thrown together to make us think they’re the same. If the Captain theory holds true I’m willing to bet that they’re the burned corpse. But I think the ghost is the figurehead from The Governance.

The Governance was stormed away from its original course thanks to the Aglaeca - thanks founders and your truly terrible treatment of women. Like I was in a storm.

They then ripped the boat to pieces and left the figurehead as a protector of the Black Door, literally in the basement. The sky is gone.

The figurehead that has watched over as they tried over and over to merge the Sin Eater with the stolen children. There’s only one left.

She’s ethereal, not wearing the clothes she died in, but a white robe - like an angel, like a woman in white, like a being of magic. And Nancy Drew have been at great pains to point out throughout that there is a balance. Plugonia - plural, one doll for evil, one for light. What if the figurehead is not just a watcher, but part of the literal balance of the Sin Eater?

Now, @flythesail has done a truly excellent post exploring this theory which makes me feel much less like I’m going crazy connecting dots that aren’t there, and I highly recommend checking it out, because she does a fab job exploring the ideas of reincarnation that the writers are bringing into play this season, and makes a very compelling argument for this.

And once you start putting those pieces in, suddenly Nancy and Ace behaving as they are over the ghost and Tristan begins to make even more sense than memory erasure and heartbreak. And honestly, that’s not a sentence I ever thought I’d say.

But the thread has been found - how can you find a thread to pull when you don’t even know it’s missing waiting to be discovered? Against all the odds the photo, the timeline, it’s starting to emerge. And we know how Nancy gets once there’s a mystery. That desperate all consuming urge to uncover the truth, the light, the justice for a town steeped in darkness and secrets, for the people caught up in the web, for herself.

#nancy drew #nancy drew cw #nancy x ace #ace [redacted]#cw nancy drew #nace #nancy drew spoilers #nancy drew analysis #nancy drew meta #naceedit #nancy drew 4x11 #nancy drew 4.11 #the sinner's sacrifice #my two favourite idiots #i've connected the dots #well #some of them #maybe #if you squint

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onikattingz · 2 years

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Eleven Method

i recently rewatched stranger things from season 1 to season 4 and took note of how el went to the void…and kinda made my own spin on it and found that the method actually worked for me..lmao and no you are not going to drown yourself in saltwater haha ok

1-as always you can prepare

if you want feel free to do any type of meditation/and or listen to asmr to relax you (optional)

2.the water placebo…(this is where your self concept/manifestation skills come in)

quick backstory i discovered the law march 31st of 2021 it met me when my life was the lowest of lows so when i find out i can change it just by flipping my mindset and putting my entire faith in a method or two i thought oh well..have nothing to lose now..as i continued to do research on the law it reminded me of a memory/practice taught to me by my dad growing up that till this day i still practice and stand by with full faith..my dad handed me and water bottle peeled of the paper and told me that that water carrie’s energy..be careful what you speak while holding a cup of water because “it hears you” sounds a bit creepy? well he actually isn’t entirely wrong..there was a experiment that a doctor by the name of Dr.Emto did speaking negatively-to positively over a bowl of water and took pictures as to how the following affirmations effected the the crystals within the water..i’ll link and article but please research more on this topic because it is very interesting (search “talking over water experiment”) anyways i had realized that i have been manifesting like this for years..ever since i was 10 years old my dad always told me..make a wish upon your water..be grateful for every drop of water you come across your life because it can “feel and hear” ..once i became re aware of this last year i began to consciously manifest with water and BOIIIIII can i tell you water is such a powerful method to bring on desires (i’m selective with when calling a method powerful because at the end of the day it starts with our minds not the method but you know what i mean) so how can i apply this to the void.. i took a bottle of water and spoke void concept/void affirmations over it such as “i always wake up in the void” “entering the void is as easy as sleeping” “i always wake up with all my desires” “my body prefers waking up in the void every morning” etc…say it like you mean it now proceed to drink all of the water knowing for sure in the back of your mind all these affirmations are true…think of it as you are now getting your “super powers” of easily being able to command your state of consciousness in and out of the void LMFAOOO this sounds silly but trust me

3.You are now going to block as many as your senses as possible..smell..taste..touch…hear..see

uhhhh realistically we aren’t in labs and chances are you don’t feel safe entering the void in a bathtub and quite frankly i don’t blame you nor do i recommend (so please don’t lol) buttttt what i did was i put on these noise canceling headphones and a blindfold and to be honest that was more than enough to quite down my brain

4.Decide if you are going to wake up..or “go” into the void state

my first attempt i went into the void state 2nd i fell asleep and woke up in the void state (from a nap i haven’t tried overnight yet)

5.Going in?? read on

with your ears and eyes blocked (i used one of those sleeping mask things) i layed down on my bed and calmed myself down by breathing by for maybe a minute or two as i was doing so i began to imagine myself floating (el usually used her void to communicate/find/see peoples memories/spy so instead of doing so i imagined parts of my dream life/and or appearance/ and or the specific things i wanted to manifest in this void..for an example.. let’s say i was manifesting having clear skin i would imagine myself in first person walking towards the version of my self with clear skin or if i was manifesting a acceptance letter from a specific school i would imagine walking towards the letter and picking it up in the void..makes sense??? i hope so ..after doing breathing and visualizing for about 2 minutes….

..i didn’t even affirm for a long time..i literally just commanded that i was in the void one time and instantly couldn’t feel my body the blindfold on my eyes face nothing…i quickly affirmed for my desires and boom was out of there

6.Waking up?? Read on

don’t go to bed with noise canceling headphones i believe that isn’t safe but yeah feel free to wear the blindfold..but this is pretty self explanatory i just woke up in the void..at first it felt like a dream for a minute until i fully realized i was there but i quickly affirmed for my desire this time it was free front row tickets to see one of my favorite artist at the wireless festival and money so i can pay for the plane tickets and boom i had it once fully woken up

i really hope i explained everything in a way everyone understands and seriously do your research on that water experiment it’s actually quite interesting.

it’s all about intent and faith..as you go about this entire process remember your intention..going to the void..go live your life babes xx

Success story from anon

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inspectorlyfra · 2 years

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So, that “Carmilla fixes what’s broken” theory/headcanon, yeah? Let’s play with that a little. Both a literal meaning, and a metaphorical one. Buckle up, let’s go!

Thanks to his profile on the official website, we know Jonny made up his “backstory” as seen in One-Eyed Jacks. We also know he still did kill his dad, as seen in the “killing your father in an emotionally climactic moment” “you’re projecting again, jonny” exchange in DTTM. I wouldn’t know what the exact words are, I refuse to watch DTTM. Moving on, we don’t actually know how exactly he reached the near-death state necessary for mechanization. Death row? Self-inflicted? A heart attack? Who knows!

Symbolically, though, in the prison interview fiction, he briefly mentions that SA is the one thing Doc Carmilla put off-limits. While this could be a lie, or instead a reference to Carmilla’s parenting (did Jonny ever get time-out?), it pretty steadily points towards some form of morals integrated into the mechanism itself. Backing this up, on his profile again, Jonny says “I’m told I had a good heart, but the Doc dealt with that.” And what organ traditionally is associated with morals? The heart, babey!

Going off of this, I’d say that Jonny’s act of patricide wasn’t premeditated. Back to the “emotionally climactic moment”, and all. However he handled the guilt after he realized what happened, I’d assume that was his downfall.

One headcanon I’ve seen around is that Nastya was born with hemophilia. That’s got the literal ‘broken blood’ out of the way.

As for symbolism, look no further than “Accept the destiny of your blood” as quoted in Cyberian Demons. Nastya knew her family wasn’t great, and she wanted something to be done about that. Their wrongdoings ran in her blood, and she was killed like the rest of them. Clearing her veins set her free.

Ivy’s another tricky one, since we don’t know much about her backstory either. We know that Carmilla made her offer to Ivy in a library she knew by heart, and that’s it.

Going off of her current dissociation from the past thanks to her supercomputer brain, though, I’d guess she had some kind of emotional dysregulation. Trauma, depression, whatever. The dissociation she has now was possibly implemented as a reaction to that. A distance in her own mind, to keep her from getting so overwhelmed.

Thanks to Ashes actually having a backstory song that’s truthful, we know their first death. Smoke inhalation and burns. That, of course, ties into the literal meaning of their lungs.

But lungs aren’t just needed to breathe- you need good lungs to scream. And if Ashes could’ve screamed that night, told the Sevens the truth and exposed Mickey for what he was.. Well, it might not’ve fixed the whole planet, but it would’ve helped.

Brian’s one of two mechs to have the majority of their body be mechanical. His body froze, leaving only his heart intact, yadda yadda.

Going back to the morality idea from Jonny, Brian is a direct parallel to that. Every part of him broke in space except for his heart- his morals. And Carmilla leaned on that with his switch, splitting “morality” into two halves.

A fic I like for this concept that I will promote: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32318977

TS wasn’t made by Carmilla, and its exclusion is fairly self-explanatory for both the literal and figurative, but I’ll go over it quickly anyway. It was made fully clockwork, and only got its autonomy over time. It stole the angel’s voice so that it would have to be heard.

Tim’s eyes burned out, yes, but he saw countless atrocities over the 3 or 4 years of the war. Replacing his eyes didn’t remove the memories, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

Marius has very little of his pre-mech backstory known! He was a child soldier, and he fought in a giant mecha. That’s about it.

The arm is, arguably, the part of your body that does the most things externally. It types, writes, holds, carries, hits, crushes. And if you’re a soldier, it kills. So when Marius got a shiny new arm and was removed from the environment he grew up in, of course he wanted to be a doctor. He wanted to figure out how to preserve life, not destroy it. Granted, the Mechs don’t need a doctor, but.. I’m sure he had the right idea before the standard desensitization that comes with immortality.

Raphaella’s a complete fucking wild card! Let’s go!

I must of course mention @ladydragonkiller‘s Icarus!Raphaella fic before anything else. Go read it, it’s lovely. https://archiveofourown.org/works/39452052

Whether you subscribe to the “Raphaella gave herself wings” agenda or the “Human carcinization, Raphaella’s species always had wings, but Raphaella’s went wrong somehow” agenda, from my understanding it’s pretty widely agreed on that she mechanized herself.

And whether or not you lean on the Icarus idea, I think the theme of ambition is a strong note. Science is an ambitious field of study! I still like my old idea of a fallen angel interpretation of Raphaella. Regardless of if she was cast out by others or left the nest of her own volition, that ambition and that separation is what cost her her wings.

Making new wings for herself returned her freedom, returned her ambition, returned all of those glorious things. And now, she flies higher than ever before.

And that’s all of them! This wasn’t the most organized, but I had a lotta thoughts I wanted to get down. Wooooo!

#the mechanisms #jonny d'ville #nastya rasputina #ivy alexandria #ashes o'reilly #drumbot brian #the toy soldier #marius von raum #raphaella la cognizi #theory #meta #i guess lmao #no clue if this is a thing everyone Is Aware Of Already #but ehhhh. if it is then oh well #mechs theory

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allabouttaleblr · 11 days

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some rambles on my takes on the acachallas <333

papa acachalla is very much a tired dad who doesn’t really care all too much about anything. any which way. he’s hooked up with a guy before to experiment, went “eh” and completely forgot about it. sally puts him in dresses and makeup for her tea parties and he surprisingly never complains. he instantly accepted sue as his daughter, even though he did complain about getting another child. sally told him one day she likes girls and he went “huh. well i guess you got that from me” and then took her out for ice cream. he’s perpetually tired and over time, has become hard to phase. billy sprouts wings and flies around? well, that’s to be expected, it’s tuesday after all. sally’s eyes turns black and she starts screaming for waffles? no big deal, he keeps a freezer of waffles for this. he loves gertrude but doesn’t show it as much as he should, but he’s trying. he does the universal dad stance and squints his eyes whenever the kids show him anything on their phones. his idea of a romantic date is going to the nearest burger place on a busy friday night. he got himself a nice comfy couch in the living room and falls asleep on it regularly. he’s such a dad, but refuses to admit it.

gertrude is tall and thin, with slightly bony features and liver spots scattered across her body. her face wrinkles whenever she laughs, smiles or cries. her shoulders are broad and thick, her hips are blocky and her build is stocky but thin, like a twig. she casually mentions her memories of putting on a dress for the first time and realizing she was a girl the whole time. she still tucks her kids in, even though they’re in their twenties, thirties and forties. she buys ice cream for any kid she sees without enough money for the ice cream truck. she watched hours upon hours of youtube tutorials for afro-textured hair when they took sally in, and now she can do dozens upon dozens of hairstyles for her. she hand-sews dresses for sue and repairs billy’s work clothes. she buys a new computer for spencer every two-three years and leaves it at his door with a snack plate. she takes her beloved granddaughter, ivy, out for ice cream and movie dates so maddie and/or billy can have a day off. she pulls a blanket over papa when he falls asleep in his chair, and fixes hot cocoa for everyone on cold nights. she has a self care day every week where she rests and watches her favorite movie/shows.

sue loves everything feminine, and simultaneously embraces everything non-feminine about herself. she wears pink dresses with frilly lace and bows, and proudly displays her thick arm and leg hair wherever she goes. she works out and shows off her thick muscles and abs. she’s not fluent in spanish, but speaks it regularly regardless. she carries sally on her shoulders and clumsily makes little dresses for her niece, ivy (they’re always messy, but ivy loves them anyways). she grows her hair out to her shoulders and ties it up with the same bow sally got her every day. she has a partner, rebecca, who she even tried to learn how to cook for just to bring her goodies (they’re often burnt, but rebecca never complains). she loves chick flicks, romcoms and comedies, and hides at horror movies. she’s set up a really cozy room for herself and rebecca in the house, with all of rebecca’s things in it that she bought with weeks of saved up allowance money. she loves and loves and loves. her hugs are warm and all-encompassing, and she’ll hug just about anyone for any reason. she’s enthusiastic and genuine in everything she does.

billy is much smarter than he lets on. he has abandonment issues and often hides behind a childish, “dumber” facade as a way to cope. he sometimes can’t look in the mirror because all he sees is his mother’s face staring back at him. he’s lanky but not quite tall. he’s close with his twin sister, charlie, despite being separated for much of their childhood. he goes out to movies and aquariums and zoos with her, and is fully fluent in sign language. he’ll do it so naturally that he sometimes uses sign language at home, because he forgets he’s not around charlie anymore. he never even thought he’d want to be a dad but he is so, so utterly taken with his daughter, ivy. he takes lots of pictures of her and proudly displays each and every single drawing she has ever made for him. he carries her on his shoulders and impulse buys clothes and toys for her all the time. he’s grown to find comfort in maddie’s presence, now that the two are in a healthy relationship. he irons his shirt and picked up sewing from gertrude. he’s started watching shows with papa every sunday evening as a way to bond. he’s indescribably close to sally; the two just understand each other in a way no one else does. they’ll sit in silence watching a movie together. he’ll play tea parties with sally every single time she asks without fail. he’s learned how to do her hair just to spend quiet evenings braiding it. he and sue go to zoos together, and he helps coach her on the few recipes he does know- and gets very proud when she outshines him. he prefers to be around people, but often takes an hour or two in the evenings to just have his own time, and he sits listening to music.

sally is larger than life and makes sure everyone around her knows it. she’s energetic, she’s fun, she’s loud and bright and bubbly and talkative and cheerful and so, so much more. she’s as bright and warm as the sun, and simultaneously just as brutal when she slips into her more monstrous form. she likes all things pink and purple and sparkly and glittery. she likes frills and laces and beads and pearls. she likes dresses and skirts and pretty shoes. she likes just about anything and everything pretty. she’ll befriend any animal she comes across, even dangerous ones, and they never harm her. she’s a complete and total optimist through and through, but isn’t nearly as oblivious or naive as she once was; still, it’s something she struggles with on occasion. gertrude takes her out and helps sally build her confidence and as much independence as possible, and sally loves it. she loves going to new places and exploring- zoos, aquariums, art galleries, museums, lighthouses, libraries, everything. she's become incredibly eager to learn and absorb new information, and her curiosity is limitless. she spends so, so, so much time with her siblings and spencer (even if spencer likes to pretend he hates it most of the time). she's almost never without either one of her siblings, or gertrude. she's a mama's girl and daddy's girl at the same time.

spencer doesn't like to be alone nearly as much as he claims he does. in reality, he hates being alone so much and fears being abandoned again- but he would never admit that to anyone. still, gertrude notices, and goes out of her way to do nice things for him and give him quiet reassurances that he belongs here, that he has a home here now. the basement was completely renovated so spencer can have a nice bedroom, and gertrude got him a complete gaming setup too. he plays video games a lot and streams them, and gertrude, sally and billy all watch every single stream he does (unless they're working). spencer has gradually warmed up to the other family members, and can even be spotted on sunday nights curled up on the opposite couch to papa acachalla, intently watching the movie on screen (which he insisted needed to be some mystery, action or horror movie, and papa always lets spencer have the remote). spencer will happily infodump for hours about computers and video games and computer mechanics and everything in between, to anyone who will listen.

maddie is incredibly passionate over anything and everything she puts her mind to. she used to obsess over billy, until she found out she was pregnant and began therapy- now she obsesses over making sure her daughter is healthy, happy, has everything, is learning everything, and can grow up to be a wonderful person. she sews clothes for ivy, cooks her all three meals a day, bakes her goodies for school, crafts and carves toys for her, and heavily researches all the best places nearby to take her. she's an extraordinarily loving mother who always does her absolute best in everything. she did quit her job for a while, but now finds purpose outside of motherhood in crafting furniture and toys to sell to others. she's learned to enjoy having her own time, and has rediscovered herself- she's learned she likes rock music and occasional heavy metal, she's learned she prefers savory over sweet things except on special occasions, she's learned she has a good eye for fashion and that she enjoys window-shopping whenever possible. she goes to therapy every week and has even taken a handful of community college classes purely to learn new things rather than to get a degree. she's loud and super energetic when she's excited. she has incredibly steady hands and surprisingly sharp focus. she's learned asl fluently, and is learning spanish alongside her daughter so they can talk to each other. she likes museums and art galleries because she gets to learn new things and see new things. she's grown into her own person, and has become an incredible mother as well.

#i will ramble more about them another time but i love them all <33 #i don't talk about them or develop them nearly as much as i should #but anyways #taleblr #venturiantale #billy acachalla #papa acachalla #sally acachalla #gertrude acachalla #spencer acachalla #taleblr maddie-friend #salem's taleblr rambles

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starsfic · 1 year

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Mk gets really sick and tries to hide it but eventually collapses infront of everyone. Freaks them out and gets a lesson in self care pls.

monkiekidmadness-deactivated202: Can we get a sick mk trying to hide hes sick but ends up collapsing in front of wukong. And the monkie king just freaking out panicked. Please

Anon: Can you write mk sick with the stomach flu or motion sick but being stubborn about it

Anon: Idea for MK getting a cold and Wukong’s monkey instincts to flare up due to it until he can’t control them anymore, leading to a very animalistic and firm Wukong carrying MK everywhere like a baby monkey whilst chirping to comfort him all the while looking for medicine

Anon: Prompt, Wukong goes to train MK after the finale only to find him weak and overexhausted from power usage as his body makes room for the ever increasing amount of magic in his system.Monkey dad isn’t having MK’s insistence that he’s fine

Qi Xiaotian had been feeling off all week.

Well, no, that was a lie. He had been feeling for a solid month. Xiaotian really couldn’t blame himself. With the Lady Bone Demon’s defeat, making sure the city was all freed from her weird ice-crystal-bone stuff, making sure her hostess was set up comfortably, helping Long Xiaojiao through the removal of the Samadhi fire, everything felt weird and off. That included training.

Sun Wukong had asked if they could pause training for a week. He had sounded so tired that Xiaotian couldn’t bring himself to refuse. Whether his mentor wanted to admit it or not, Wukong had been through what had to be a terrifying experience. He probably needed more time than anyone to recover.

But now today was their first training session since everything had gone down!

And now Xiaotian was feeling sick.

No. No, he wasn’t. Xiaotian was perfectly fine! He rubbed at the red eyes that was just because of going through the volcanoes. He let out a sneeze as he landed on the beach. Volcanic ash. That’s all that was.

He blinked. Huh. Was the ground a lot closer than it seemed? Xiaotian blinked, gold overtaking his vision. Well, that was a surprise.

There was…probably a…

“Kid?”

-_-

Wukong was a selfish monkey.

That was a truth he had known for a long time. He was a selfish, violent, annoying demon. But he was trying his best to fix himself. He pushed past the urge just to collapse and sleep to make sure Xiaotian was alright constantly. Even if he knew, deep down, Xiaotian didn’t need him.

Except for right now.

Xiaotian was hunched over on the beach, grasping at his shirt, staring at Wukong with golden eyes. Based on his confused expression, he wasn’t doing it on purpose. “What’s wrong?” Wukong asked, helping his successor up. And then stand, because the moment he stood, he was falling over. “Kid, what happened?”

“I’m fine…” Xiaotian wheezed out. His breathing sounded off. In the moment, “clunky” was the best thing Wukong could think. He tried to push away, but nearly faceplanted. “Probably got a cold or something. Maybe the flu?”

A cold? Wukong hadn’t seen a human with a cold for a while. But, based on his memories, humans with colds didn’t act like this. The flu seemed to be a better possibility (even if it was concerning how the kid had still came thinking he had the flu), but Wukong had a feeling that something else was going on. Wukong blinked and allowed his vision to be overtaken by gold-

And, yep. That wasn’t good.

Normally, Xiaotian’s magic swirled inside him, moving through his systems like blood did through veins in a healthy in and out. Right now, however, Xiaotian was throbbing with magic, like how a bloody wound throbbed. Fine cracks, invisible to the naked eye, laced across his skin. Wukong felt a protective fire rise as he gripped Xiaotian’s shoulders, helping him back onto his feet to lean onto him. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

His answer was a little shrug. “...a month…It’s not that bad-”

“A MONTH?!”

The noise Wukong meant to make was a hiss. Instead, an angrily worried shriek escaped him. Xiaotian jumped at the sudden loud noise, his face contorting into a mixture of fear and confusion. He nearly fell over, but Wukong kept his grip tight on him. His mind raced.

Okay. Okay, keep calm. He could handle this.

The next movement made Xiaotian shriek as Wukong pulled him up onto his back. “Monkey King?!” he said, his voice cracking into a raspier tone in the middle. On instinct, his legs wrapped around his waist as his arms wrapped around his neck. “What are you doing?!”

“It’s okay, bud,” Wukong said, beginning to walk. Thankfully, his voice had soothed out into more of a chirp he used on the younger monkeys. He let out an actual soothing chirp. He felt Xiaotian relax at the noise and felt a smile form. “We’re just gonna go to my cabin and get some medicine for you, okay?”

There wasn’t any words. Just a positive-sounding hum and a too-warm forehead pressing against his shoulder. Wukong hoped Xiaotian didn’t notice him speed up.

And hopefully something that could help with that magic issue.

#my writing #LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #Sun Wukong #Qi Xiaotian #prompt fic #prompt fill #fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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darkhymns-fic · 9 months

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Being an angel is pretty inconvenient, huh? (Ch. 6)

Finally, Lloyd returns home to Dirk. But he's never figured out a way to tell him about his new wings. How does one even start? [A Lloyd wingfic]

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Dirk, Noishe Rating: T Word Count: 6852 Mirror: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week 2023, Day 6: Quote Day: “What would I wish for now if a falling star crossed the night sky?” This is long and self-indulgent, as expected!

In the distance, Lloyd saw the spiral of smoke, how it drifted up into the sky.

He craned his head, leaning back to watch it climb. In the darkness, it was harder to differentiate it from the clouds. Much of the weather lately had hidden away the sun, and that included the stars when night fell, blanketing them, making one's journey home just a bit more difficult.

But he and Colette had still found the way. They had traveled through Sylvarant so much, both on land and through the sky, that it was second-nature to find the road that led to Iselia, and eventually, to Dirk’s house.

To his house.

Lloyd kept watching the smoke, then lowered his gaze to see the warm light from the windows. The one on the far right illuminated a stable, along with the shifting ears of a creature deep in sleep.

He didn't hear Colette’s footsteps, but he noticed the soft violet shade that stretched along the road. “We don't have to go just yet, if you're not ready,” she said. The tip of her wing brushed over his own, pure light against feather and bone.

He could hear his father at work. The rhythmic clunk of the hammer echoed through the stillness. It was one sound of many that Lloyd had grown up with, sometimes even falling asleep to it as Dirk continued to work late into the night. For a commission, for a repair to the house that was long overdue, or for a project of his very own making.

The sound may as well have been lifted from his memories. His dad had always said dwarves rarely changed throughout their years.

Lloyd swallowed. But then what will he think when he sees me?

There was a soft meow from behind him.

He turned to see Blippy poke his head from the basket Colette carried. The once tiny kitty had grown, though only by a few inches or so. Blippy’s white fur shone bright in the night. Wide eyes looked up at Lloyd, then started pawing at a feather that dangled just above a wet nose.

Lloyd couldn’t help a small laugh that escaped his throat. “Hey, my wings aren’t a new toy for you.”

Colette smiled but made no move to stop the kitten. “And after Yuan gave him a bunch of cat toys for him to play with too.” She hefted up the bag she carried in her other hand, the felt of one pet toy sneaking out from the top.

“...Yeah, why did he have those toys anyway? You think he used to be a cat owner?”

“Or maybe it used to belong to Noishe when they traveled together! I think Yuan really likes animals.”

“You sure? He seems too grumpy to be an animal lover though…”

Blippy was oblivious to their talk, still bapping away at Lloyd’s feathers. With a grin, he placed a gloved hand over the kitten’s head, scratching just beneath his ear. Even so, those tiny paws kept reaching for him.

“Hey, little guy. We’ll play with you soon. Just…first I gotta—”

And, Lloyd had thought they weren’t being particularly loud. There were always little rustles in the forest around nighttime, the kind that would make Noishe retreat further into his pen, or even sneak inside the house to cower underneath Lloyd’s bed.

The keening whine through the air made him think otherwise.

Going by Colette's expression, even she hadn’t expected Noishe to already be upon them. “Ah, N-Noishe, wait!” But Lloyd already felt the great paw right in the center of his back, nudging against his wings.

He fell face first into the ground.

“Gah! Noishe! Heavy!” Lloyd struggled, but the great green beast was busy nuzzling his snout against Lloyd’s cheek, letting out great bark-whines right in his ear. “Okay, okay! I'm happy to see you too but get off!”

Also, having four legs, this meant Noishe kept accidentally stepping right on Lloyd's wings, as well as his back. I don't have to worry about losing these on my own, he's just gonna break them off!

“Calm down, boy! Here, look! We have a new friend for you!” Colette was truly doing her best, petting Noishe’s ears as he still half-trampled over Lloyd. She then lifted the basket, where Blippy was looking up at Noishe with another mew.

The sound was new to Noishe, who had rarely been around normal cats and was only used to the monstrous ones, like giant lynxes or chimeras. He whined, pressing his paw against the back of Lloyd’s head.

Despite having wings, Lloyd sure was getting to know the ground a lot more!

“Oy, what's all the racket, Noishe? Are the little foxes bullying you again?”

And just like that, Noishe stepped off Lloyd, giving mercy to his wings (and back). He was sure he lost a few extra feathers…

“Mr. Dirk! It's us!” Colette called out, helping Lloyd get back to his feet, brushing off dirt clumps and grass from his jacket. “We're home!”

And it was that word, home, that made Lloyd suddenly freeze.

He was still facing away from the house, from Dirk. So right now, his dad had a full view of his wings, which were a little scuffled now from Noishe’s paws, their feathers probably falling off and floating to the ground.

And Dirk wasn’t saying anything.

Lloyd took a shaky breath. A part of him didn’t want to turn around, instead feeling the instinct to fly away and hide. But he had come all this way, and there was something aching in his chest to finally be inside his house after what felt like such a long time.

When he did turn, he was careful to keep his wings folded, so that they wouldn't get in anyone’s way. They were always getting in someone’s way. “Hey…Dad. Um…” He smiled tremulously, giving a small shrug. “Surprise?”

Dirk was only a few feet away, standing at the other end of the logs that served as a makeshift bridge over a small river. The dwarf’s arms were crossed, silently looking at Lloyd more and more, the wind ruffling his thick beard.

As the moments passed, all Lloyd could think that this had been a mistake. His wings shifted, curling inward more as if they could fully hide behind his back. “Sorry, I… a lot happened and…”

“Ya came here earlier than I thought,” Dirk interrupted. He scratched at his beard, humming softly. “The renovations aren't quite ready yet. Thought I’d be done sooner, but I suppose all these centuries are finally catching up to me.”

Lloyd blinked. “Reno-what?”

“Well, don't just stand there, boy. Nights have been colder here lately, ya know. What with that Celsius lass taking root in Triet now. Get the both of you inside and I'll heat up some stew.”

With that, Dirk stepped back into the house through the front doorway. Warm light framed his silhouette before he moved to the side where the kitchen was, the clinking of pots echoing.

Wait, Lloyd thought. Something seems different…

“Uh, Dad?” Lloyd asked, looking at the entrance to the house for a long while, squinting and unsquinting until he finally understood what he was seeing. “Where's the door?”

It sounded weird to say out loud, but there really was just suddenly no door at the front of his house! The metal hinges were still present, and as he looked closer, there were wood shavings scattered along the floor. That, and the door frame itself seemed to be carved in a little more than he remembered.

“Ah, that? The old one won't fit the new measurements, so I had to take it down.” Dirk brought an old cooking pot to the fire stove, the logs already fairly lit. “I only had Ms. Sage’s letter to know just how much I would need to widen the doorway for you, and I still need to fix the top as well. I’ve also been mending your clothes that you left behind—so you’ll need to put on your jackets a little differently. I’ve fashioned some clasps in the back to make it fit better, but should more or less be the same. Reminds me of the time I had to lengthen my very own trousers when you had yer growth spurt!”

Lloyd was just more and more confused at the new information being given. “Wait, the Professor's letter? When did she…?

A whine from Noishe pierced through the night, followed by a wagging tail that thumped against the ground at the scent of prepared food. Dirk turned at the sound—and it was then he noticed the little kitten Colette still held, wide eyes shining bright from the fire stove.

“Got yerselves even more mouths to feed, did ya?”

Lloyd remained standing outside, but Colette heard the invitation in Dirk’s tone, stepping towards the doorway, basket in hand. “His name is Blippy. But, I guess Professor Sage must have told you already.”

The dwarf chuckled as he gazed at the little animal, petting its head, his thick hand nearly thrice the size of it. “Fine little critter. Lloyd, you did good saving this young one.”

Something about that made Lloyd leave his confuddled daze, shaking his head—which in turn made his feathers fluff up. “So you already knew about my wings!? This whole time?!” A pause. “You know everything?!”

“Ay, keep yer voice down! No sense shouting to the whole world at this hour.” Dirk faced Lloyd, the sweat on his brow apparent from the work he had put himself through. “I got no word from ya all this time. Had me worried sick if you were hurt or worse. So, I sent a query to your teacher. I figured if anyone would know anything, she would be the one.”

At that, Lloyd hung his head, running a hand through his hair. “And I've been freaking out about how to tell you…”

“I'm sorry we haven't sent anything in so long,” Colette quickly apologized. “So much happened all at once, that we just, kinda lost track.”

Dirk smiled at her, his thick beard moving like a bristly forest. “Now, you know I always appreciate your letters about how you and Lloyd are faring. That isn't the problem here.” Back to Lloyd, the dwarf’s arms were crossed once again. “What grieves me though is how my own son could not trust me.”

Lloyd raised his head with a snap. Feathers fluttered on the wind, one of them sneaking into the house to land shyly on the hardwood floors. “That's not-! I mean…” He groaned, taking a deep breath before starting again.

“You see this, right?” He gestured to his now stretched out wings, feeling every creak and motion they made. He couldn’t move them without feeling awkward, these extra limbs having no where to go and hide. “I've been going over and over how I was going to tell you about this! I, I had to talk to other people first. And I still don’t really understand how these wings happened or why it did, but…” His wings bristled without his meaning to, embarrassing him just then. “I just didn't want you to see me…different…”

Lloyd suddenly felt so small as he spoke. And his wings were still far too big.

It was a while before Dirk spoke again, with only the sounds of the boiling pot and the crackling fire taking up the wasted space between. “Lloyd, I thought I had taught you this already, but perhaps I need to drill it into your skull a little more.”

“Huh? What do you mea–Ow!”

Lloyd could only hear Colette gasp slightly as he felt the sharp sting. Knuckles rapped against his forehead, a small tap for Dirk, but a dwarf’s strength was never to be underestimated. Lloyd placed a hand over what he was sure was a bruise already forming. It hadn’t been a punch, yet it almost felt like one. “W-what was that for?”

“It's to get through your thick-headedness!” Dirk yelled. “Don't you get that you change in front of me every time I turn my head? One moment, you’re a little tyke barely reaching my knees, and the next, you’re a grown man who carries his swords with pride. Why would you having wings now make any true difference to me? For all I know of humans, I would have believed them sprouting wings was as natural as breathing air!”

Lloyd gawked. “But we don't… well…” He looked to Colette, who still had her own wings out, their light suffusing the inside of the home with that soft violet he had grown so used to. “I guess some of us do?”

At that, Dirk’s great hand reached to clap against Lloyd's shoulder, making him stumble, his right wing flapping to keep him balanced. But there was a supplication this gesture now, not frustration nor anger. “You’ve changed, and you will always keep changing. But no matter what, you are still my son.” A small smirk could just barely be seen through his dark beard, but Lloyd had learned to recognize it through the years—and it was there. “You are still my very own child that I raised in this home, regardless of blood.”

A still moment. His father's smile. Lloyd had heard similar words before.

Why had he forgotten that already?

“Now, will ya come in already? Colette's already beat ya to it! Which means she’ll have first dibs on the potluck surprise I'll be making.”

“Dwarven Potluck Surprise? It’s been so long!” Colette beamed—and Blippy meowed right after. "Ah, but I don’t think you should eat that.”

Colette had already gone inside Dirk’s home, perhaps unconsciously so. Her wings fluttered, motes of light drifting in the air as she realized her position. Perhaps it was because she had always been invited here that she had gone in so easily. “And sorry, I should put these away…”

Dirk waved his hand. “Nonsense. They give the house some much needed light anyways.” He patted Lloyd’s shoulder again, gentler this time. “Well? Will you be coming in or will I have to pull you by the ear like old times?”

Lloyd would have argued against that, if he had felt like himself. But he looked again at the doorway, at the markings of sawdust and hammer marks that had taken place. “You were making that bigger for me,” he said.

Dirk nodded. “No sense in having you squeeze your wings through the front door. The one on your balcony should be wide enough, so I’m trying to make it the same here. I might need to move one of the windows to do so, but it's been a while since I’ve done some real construction work. A good time to keep my skills from being too rusty!”

There was joy in his father’s voice as he spoke, even some excitement at the idea of building something for Lloyd. There was no half-heartedness, no worry, and nothing fearful. And with his dad being so close to one of his wings, barely raising a bushy eyebrow at their size, Lloyd realized then.

His vision got blurry all the sudden. He tried to hide it with a quick swipe of his arm, but it only seemed to make his tears fall down all the more. “Ah, dammit, s-sorry.”

Even so, he couldn’t stop crying.

Lloyd found himself leaning on his father’s arm who guided him inside. The shadow of his own wings fell over the dwarf, but Dirk didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Now, now, yer apologizing as much as Colette here. You must be starving, lad. Come in now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t…believe it would be okay.” Harder to speak, just like when he was a little. He’d been such a crybaby back then. “I’m really sorry…”

“Hush now. Also mind the tools there, ya don’t want a wicked nail through your boot. We’ll have a bit of a draft while we eat but I’m sure it’s nothing you’re not already used to.” Dirk continued to speak gently, as he would do when Lloyd was little, crying over monsters in the dark, and nightmares he could put no name to.

Maybe it was the pain of getting his wings, the weight of them, the constant ache and everything else that had made him forget. He moved through the doorway, already wide enough that he barely needed to tuck in his wings as he stepped inside. The familiar scent of the simmering potluck, the soft light from Colette’s wings painting the walls, the tiny whines from Noishe as he settled himself in a corner, hoping for scraps to come his way.

Remember, this is your home.

Lloyd really had forgotten so many things.

But he remembered the stew tasting so, so warm.

The skies stayed cloudy throughout the coming days. Again, Dirk commented how it must have been Celsius’ doing, the icy summon spirit bringing forth a chill that the thick forests surrounding Iselia did not know—though not enough to hurt the trees or any of the plants in their garden, thankfully. “A customer of mine said the desert had its first snowfall,” he would later say. “It seems change is happening everywhere.”

Lloyd hadn’t been sure how long he would stay home this time. Typically, it would be a week or two at a time before he and Colette would set out on the road again. But as he seated himself on the balcony railing, his wings helping him keep balance, hearing his father put the finishing touches on the doorway below, he was finding it harder to leave.

That, and Blippy seemed to really like it here, too.

The white kitten was already growing so fast, barely fitting inside his basket anymore. So it only made sense that he would wander around the home, poking his head among the potted plants and snatching any dried fish that Dirk had stored. There had been some worries, from both Lloyd and Colette, about the river that wound around the house and if Blippy would fall in. Still, the river never ran fast and was barely over a foot deep, yet even so, Dirk had set about creating a little wooden fence, so that Blippy didn’t accidentally dip a paw in the water in curiosity.

Yet, maybe they had been worrying too much, because Blippy was far more interested in Noishe instead of some water.

Lloyd watched Blippy chase after Noishe across the grass. The small little flash of fur was bright, mewing all while Noishe whined and tried to hide in his stable. His dad turned his head occasionally towards the sight, letting out a chuckle or two before going back to his work.

“Looks like they’ve been getting along lately, don’t you think?”

Lloyd felt the brush of her fingers against his wings. The touch was so light, reminding him of the way she would press her fingers into his palm. He grinned, still watching both dog and cat rush across the ground. “Maybe. Either that or Noishe is great with kids.”

Colette looked down, her own soft laughter escaping her lips. He felt her fingers move from her wings to around his back—to the new openings in his jacket for his wings to comfortably hang from. It definitely took Lloyd some getting used to wearing it, but his dad’s tailoring skills were nearly as good as his crafting. The back clasps in his jacket could be tightened after he put it on, so that he no longer had to wrestle his wings through the makeshift openings he and Colette had tried to do on their own. No more tearing through the fabric, and no more worries that his jacket would simply fall off because of such new shapes.

“I’m glad he still kept these red,” Colette noted, and he could hear the playful tone in her voice. “Or would you have wanted to try a different color?”

“You know, now that I think about it…blue would look pretty great on me. Oh, or maybe purple!”

“Aw, purple is cute!” And before Lloyd could argue that purple could be more than just a cute color, she also moved to sit on the railing beside him, carefully brushing aside the clinging ivy and the soft dust of pollen that had draped over it.

She lost her balance almost immediately.

Lloyd quickly reached out and grabbed her arm. “Whoa, watch out! You can just take a chair if you wanna sit.”

“Hehe, sorry…” Colette gripped her free hand onto the railing now, but she didn’t move, instead continuing with, “But I think I know what to do about it.”

With that, Colette’s wings slowly slipped past her shoulders, their soft light slightly muted by the sunshine. He felt the tip of one of her wings tap his shoulder. Soon, she was sitting taller, more comfortably, her legs swinging from the railing. “There!”

She did it so easily, all with a wide smile. Her wings fluttered a little, reminding him of a butterfly’s own.

As the wind shifted the tree boughs near his balcony, carrying the scent of pine in the early spring, he kept his eyes on her. For so much of that first journey, Lloyd had seen her wings often. Easier to fight with, she had told him before, even when she worried how the others must have seen her. When she was numb to pain, her wings highlighted the scratches across her palms from gripping the chakrams too tightly. When she was locked away and could no longer speak, her wings were always at the ready, their once soft light seeming harsher in the dark, reflecting off eyes that never shifted or blinked.

Lloyd tapped his fingers against the railing, eyes shifting downward. “Hey, Colette. You don’t need to have your wings out for my sake.”

Between them, there were the sounds of Dirk’s hammer, the distant cry of a hawk overhead, and the continued whispering from the trees. The light of Colette’s wings stayed draped over the railing, over his hand where his Exsphere continued to rest on.

“I know you don’t want…what happened to me to happen to you too.” His wings furled inward slightly as he spoke. “So, it’s okay. Really. You don’t have to risk it.”

Colette had already suffered for her wings as they were. Why should he have to add more to that?

It was then he heard the railing creak from motion, watching as the familiar violet shade moved away from his hand. But before he could even start to feel a little lonely then, Colette had grabbed his hand—from the front.

“Remember when we used to fly together?” Colette asked him. She was flying before him, her wings gently beating, sending drifting motes of light to scatter across the earth. “Not just in Ozette… but before that? We should do it again. Let’s go and fly!”

Again, the rhythmic sound of the hammer, now followed by the gentle whines of a certain creature who must have noticed Colette hovering just above.

“Uh… did you just ignore what I was saying now?” Lloyd asked in turn, more out of befuddlement than anything else. He could usually follow Colette’s thoughts well, but still, she managed to surprise him now and then.

“Oh! No, I was listening!” Colette nodded, her face all serious to the point that her cheeks were a little puffy, a feature that Lloyd couldn’t help but find adorable. “And this is my answer!”

“So, you did ignore me.”

Colette grasped his hand close in both of her own, leaning in. Her blue irises held patterns in them, like constellations. “Lloyd, I want to use my wings with you again. I know I used to be a little worried before about it, when I told you about what Kratos mentioned to me. So, when it actually happened to you, I did try to stop using my wings. I got scared. I didn’t really understand.”

Her nearness made his heart race again, but he grasped her hand back with his. “That’s why I said it’s okay to not use yours. You shouldn’t have to because of me.”

“But what if I want to, Lloyd?” she countered, the rare hint of exasperation in her voice. “Can you believe me that I want to? Like when we used to fly up in the skies… When it felt like it was only us in the world. I know it’s selfish of me, but I liked that. I miss flying with you.”

Lloyd’s wings unfurled again, unconsciously done, but he didn’t shy away from it. He remembered seeing doves do the same, like the ones that would sometimes make their nests within a hidden corner of his rooftop.

“…I’m actually kinda nervous flying that high with these,” he admitted, clearing his throat. “I mean, I did fly to my balcony this morning! Like, from the ground…”

Colette’s fingers threaded between his own, soon reaching for his other hand. “Then you just need a little practice. Let’s get you more used to your new wings. I can teach you!”

Her excitement was getting more and more obvious, her serious face from before breaking into a grin. She gently tugged him forward, and all Lloyd could do was let her. His wings were already opening, catching the wind, feeling the way it shifted around his feathers.

“Heh, so should I call you Professor Colette, then?” he teased, just as he felt himself leave the railing. “Or, I guess it would be Professor Brunel…”

“Hm, but I like hearing you say my name, so keep the Colette part!” And with a little triumphant pull, she held Lloyd’s hands as they both hovered in the air just before his balcony, their wings beating in sync.

Lloyd gazed at her, at her wings painted against the cloudy skies, like the fragments of a stained-glass window. He swallowed a small lump in his throat, hoping it didn’t make his flight a bit unsteady. But flying had always been like this, hadn’t it? To trust yourself to not freefall through the air, to leave the stability of the ground for the uneasiness of the air.

It was exciting, when he thought about it.

“So, Professor Colette, I always wondered… How come you got so good at flying right away when you got your wings? Even when I had my old ones, I still had trouble with them.”

Colette seemed surprised by the question. Her wings beat rapidly in the air as she thought of her answer. “Hm… maybe it’s just part of my luck?”

“Haha, what? That’s not how luck works!” Lloyd tilted his head, his legs hanging down, still unconsciously searching for a floor to stand on. “I think?

“Well, I am very lucky.” She pulled him further up into the air, giggling. “Maybe my luck with flying will rub off on you!”

And she was quick, already guiding him on a flight path only she seemed to know. But she didn’t forget to wave down to Dirk below, calling out to him with a clear voice. “We’re just going out, Mr. Dirk! We’ll be back before dinner!”

“Ah, leaving me your pet to take care of, eh?” But little Blippy was already being stroked by Dirk’s great hand as he took a break from his work. The cat stared ahead, eyes wide as it craned its head up towards a flying Lloyd and Colette. Still, it didn’t reach out to them. It was very content to stay and be petted by a well-knowing hand. “Stay safe, you two!”

From the height of his balcony, his father’s shape didn’t look that much different than on ground level. But with flight came the distance, came the eventual loss of detail, until even Dirk’s beard could barely be seen. It was similar when flying atop a Rheaird, except Lloyd could turn in the air, and keep holding onto Colette’s hand, watching the trail of stardust from her wings float all around. Maybe with enough of it, her light could even make his own wings shine.

At some point during the day, the clouds finally began to part—but Lloyd barely noticed. He was too busy keeping his eyes on Colette, and how her wings moved with all the ease that he wished he had.

The initial flight was shaky for him. He nearly lost his balance numerous times, and his wings would grow tired. They were no longer just made of light, but of muscle and bone. He had to rest them occasionally, stopping at a hill outcropping or a tree branch, with Colette waiting beside him until he was ready to fly once more.

“Feel like I’m not making this as fun as it used to be…” he said with a small laugh.

But Colette would only shake her head, the light from her wings darkening her hair. “It’s always fun with you, Lloyd.”

And then, she would take his hand to fly off again, over the forest he had known so well since he was a kid, watching the twisting rivers that cut through hills, and the dirt roads that wound down cliffs past an abandoned ranch, until they would reach the gates of Iselia. But they were so high up in the sky, they might have been mistaken for large birds if anyone saw them. Or at least, Lloyd was hoping for that.

He quickly identified the roof that belonged Colette’s house, spotting the well beside it, and the small backyard where they would both play swords together when they were young. Another quick glance to the right, and he thought he recognized Phaidra walking past the front door, her ash blonde hair catching the dim light of the setting sun.

Lloyd knew he’d have to see them too, with his new wings. He’d have to see the entire village, sporting the same wings as the angel that had come down on that day of the Oracle. So, he felt some relief as they flew farther past the village, Colette’s hand still holding fast to his.

But, that was also when he started to question. “Uh, where are we going anyway?”

Colette looked back at him, her hair flying about her in a golden array. “Just a little further up. How do your wings feel?”

“Eh, still kinda tired? But I guess they don’t ache as much.” So he flew with some trepidation, too anxious to really make any careless dives or twists in the air like he once used to.

His wings really did have an annoying habit of flying into things if he wasn’t careful enough, so he was little relieved they had left the forest for more open spaces. It wasn’t like before, where his wings of light could disperse whenever he felt like it. He couldn’t just land on the bough of a tree, sitting against the bark when he felt tired. Now he had to calculate just how much space his wings needed, how they would make it difficult for him to just lay back unless he folded them up properly. (Which also made it a bit hard to sleep in general!)

Then, as he flapped his wings a little hard, trying to catch the air, he winced. And with that came a little groan of frustration.

Colette noticed. “Oh, again?”

“Ugh, yeah…” He tried turning his neck but had no real luck. “These ribbons just keep getting in the way now!”

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there!”

Lloyd could barely question her what she meant exactly, his neck cricking from his ribbons restricting his movement. He could feel every flap of his wings only making it worse, until Colette guided him to land on somewhat uneven ground.

“Here, let me look.” Colette quickly moved behind him, and soon he felt her hands move aside those ribbons from his mass of feathers, a careful unwinding of thin fabric from his wingspan. “This left one really held on!”

Lloyd sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I think I’m gonna have to tell dad about getting rid of these. I can’t fly right if these ribbons keep tangling up in my wings!”

Colette straightened out the white ribbons, her fingers smoothing out wrinkles. “I think it would work if they were shorter.”

“No way, they’d just look kind of dumb if they were short.”

As he felt her still holding onto his ribbons, he looked straight ahead. In the distance, he saw the ocean, hearing the crashing of waves against a rocky shore. The sun, he finally noticed, was already going down, sinking into the ocean as the sky overhead darkened. Lloyd angled his head around, realizing just where exactly they were both standing on. He caught a glimpse of the carved opening that had been made at the top of the stone structure, from where the light of the Oracle had shone so brightly all that time ago.

The Iselia Temple? Why did she bring me here?

But Colette still seemed to be busy with his ribbons, even long after she had untangled them. She already spoke before he could ask her. “What if we tied it up?”

Lloyd immediately knew what she meant. He hesitated. “I don’t know about that…”

“But you did it for me!” Colette was doing her best to hide away her grin as she guided him to stand on one of the curved outcroppings of the temple, many of the stones enveloped by moss. She stayed behind him, straightening out those ribbons even more. “Remember, your ribbons got tangled up in my hair when I wore your outfit that one time.”

“That’s different!”

“How so?”

“Hair and wings aren’t exactly the same…” But he already felt her tugging on them, and the motion of it was nice. Almost relaxing, such as when she brushed his wings, careful with his feathers.

“Fine,”he relented. “If you really want to—”

“Oh, whoops,” Colette said with a giggle. “I was already doing it. Sorry!”

“Huh?!” Lloyd reached back around his collar, his wrist brushing against his wing. But his fingers found the knot that was made, along with the little bow that Colette had tied up nicely with his white ribbons.

“Now they won’t get in the way. Also, they look cute!”

Well, he knew he had to admit it then, especially once he tested a small beat of his wings then. “Huh, it is a lot better now! …I’m gonna need to do this for my other jackets.”

“Maybe we can have each one a different style!” Colette suggested. “I can make your Tuesday jacket have a more braid-like ribbon.”

“You sure you didn’t already do that?”

But Colette just poked out her tongue at him as a tease as she stood next to him again. Lloyd looked at how the night sky was seen through her wings, sparkling more than they ever did on their own. It took him a second to realize that it was already nighttime—had they really flown all afternoon?

“How come you wanted to come here?” he asked her. He caught sight of the crumbling stairs that led to the temple, the flagstones long overtaken by the earth. It seemed even more in disrepair, for probably ever since Colette left, no one else besides them had gone back to this holy place of Cruxis worship. Now it only crumbled, along with everything else of the old religion.

“The stars are always so clear by the temple,” she said, craning her neck upwards. “Not as well as by your house, but it’s always very dark here, so the stars shine brighter than they do when in Iselia.”

In the sky, there were patterns—different ones now, with the reunification of the worlds. How often had Colette had to stay late at the temple, counting the stars from the windows? How often had he done the same from his house, waiting until he could go back to Iselia again to see her?

Lloyd was still looking at her when he saw something then—like a trail of starlight that connected the span of her wings, from the top-most left to the bottom. He watched its travel, a movement so fast across her expanse.

“A shooting star?” Colette said, looking over in the same direction. “I wonder… what would I wish for now…?”

Lloyd knew what he once would have wished for.

When his wings had ached, had been covered in blood and made him hate the very thought of moving, he would have wished for them to be gone. He would have wished he had done things differently. He would have wished he hadn’t put Colette through so much trouble, just to care for him and his stupid mistakes.

In the night, he saw how his right wing moved to circle around Colette. A large wingspan, the feathers pulled at by the ocean breeze. They were the same color as the kitten he had dove in to rescue from the river. Whatever reason his wings had decided to change just then, he still couldn’t say. That same kitten was probably resting in his father’s lap, who mostly likely was still waiting for him and Colette to return home.

No wishes came to his head, but something else did.

Lloyd took Colette’s hand. “Fly with me.”

Colette barely had a moment before Lloyd’s wings outstretched, wider than before. Only once had he ever felt this confident with them—back when they had been of light for the very first time, and he flew off to the skies with no hesitation.

“Come on!” Grinning wide, he urged Colette to follow, rising high above, watching as her wings beat rapidly to match his speed.

“Lloyd!” she called back with a laugh. “Are you okay to fly this high up?”

High enough that even the temple seemed small, high enough that it felt like they were the only two left in the entire world.

Their flight path was of curves, and sudden dives, and over the ocean currents that made laughter break out between them. But still, he guided her higher, just enough so that he felt nothing else could be better. They finally stopped, uplifted by the winds, the twin moons shining down on them. They made the night less dark, surrounded by the stars that were so numerous, like an endless sea.

Stopping in mid-flight, he moved his hands from hers, to wrap around her waist and bring her close in an embrace. Just a few days before, he would have felt too awkward to do this, too unbalanced, too much of a mess to give her what she tried to give to him.

His wings beat softly to keep them up. Even if Colette’s wings were snuffed out at that very moment, he wouldn’t let go.

“Colette, I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back then when you kissed me.”

He felt the heat rise in her face, warm against his cheek. He watched it brighten as he moved back to look at her, her hair framed by her wings and the stars. “Ah, that was… I just did it without asking you—”

“I love you, too.”

Maybe it was cheesy to say it here, up in the skies, but he wanted a place where only Colette would hear him, where she couldn’t mistake it for anything else.

“I’ve always loved you, but I only really got it back at the Tree. It takes me so long to get anything. It’s kinda pathetic, huh? And even when I finally realized, it took me even longer to just say it. I kept you waiting this whole time, even after you told me. I’m sorry. I don’t want to keep doing that to you. I love you, Colette. I love you.”

Her kiss had been her way of telling him, the most obvious thing that even the densest person would have picked up on. He always made so much trouble for Colette.

She lowered her eyes, but her hands fidgeted. Fingers moved to slide up his collar, to thread across his hair. “Then…can you make it up to me?”

He moved closer, his forehead pressed against hers as they both floated lazily through the sky. “Yeah. What is it?”

“Can you kiss me back?”

Was it as far back as Flanoir, as far back as on his balcony before she would leave for her journey, when he first wanted to kiss her? He had loved her then, longer than he could put a single memory to it. So many times, so many moments, but it had been up to Colette to guide him. The wanting flooded through him. He could hardly even speak anymore.

Still, when Lloyd pressed his lips to hers, tasting that familiar sweetness from before, hearing the soft sounds Colette made against him, he finally felt he did something right for once in so long.

Flying had never before felt so wonderful.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #colloydweek2023 #dirk #fanfiction #multi chapter

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