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bellezaycafe · 4 months

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Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 6

genre: 2024 Season AU

pairing: Romantic! oc x two people because y'all voted on a triangle ;). platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.

warnings: lots swearing, mentions of the accident and crimes, discussions about gangs, mentions of bars and alcohol. Paranoia and an argument. love triangle crumbs

context: Part 1 and Masterlist…

Comments: massive lore drop but I've tried to keep the story moving and interesting. I'm a sucker for small details so I hope y'all have good memories ;)

"I'm in a witness protection program."

Sadie clenched her jaw, unsure what else to say. Lando and Max were silent.

"What did you see?" Lando's voice was so soft Sadie barely heard him over the road noise.

Her right hand flexed on the steering wheel. "I can't tell you that."

"Why did you volunteer?"

"Because I love F1."

Max chimed in. "You said it's too public, too many cameras."

"What I reported happened after Melbourne and just before SIlverstone. I- I think it would be better if I just told you, wouldn't it."

"Yes," Lando muttered, not meeting her glance.

"Okay, well. I was working a bar in Sydney and witnessed a crime. I was seen calling the cops and..." She took a deep breath. "And let's just say that I had dobbed on someone dangerous. Someone influential and known to police."

"You snitched on a gangster?" Lando's wide eyes would have made Sadie laugh in any other situation. "A real life gangster?"

"I didn't know who they were! I was cornered in an alley the next day and after that I spent all of my money on a two week stay in England. From there, I reported the attempted assault and was told to stay in England for the two weeks. The police said they could use that time to get me into witness protection and set up the right safeguards, if I anonymously testify in court. It happened to be the Grand Prix weekend, so I volunteered instead of sitting around."

"Attempted assault?" Max stressed.

Sadie glanced at him in the rear view and her silence was answer enough. You don't need to know.

"Let me get this right. You snitched on a gang, were threaten and then ran to England?!"

"Yeah, pretty much." Her tone didn't match her racing heart.

"What happened to 'too many cameras'?" Lando toyed with his silver necklace.

"Obviously I didn't consider how dramatically you were going to break your ankle in turn, whatever it was. I figured, as a medic, I’d spend a lot of time in areas with very few to no cameras.”

Sadie glanced at the phone Lando showed her and, with one hand on the wheel, swung them left and down a small side street.

“You are right, though,” Max observed. “The reporters aren’t allowed in the medical tents unless they’re unwell themselves.”

“Is that why you’re in Melbourne? Are you from Sydney?” She could hear curiosity in Lando’s voice.

“It’s complicated.” Sadie grimaced.

“It’s seems like everything is,” Max muttered.

“Oh, shush,” she joked. She knew it had landed when both boys smiled slightly. “I grew up just outside of Melbourne. I’ve been working back at that bar since I was 18. I took some unofficial leave in June to experience working in another city while we had extra staff. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have chosen Sydney.”

The boys were quiet as Sadie explained her time working at bars in Sydney and enjoying the nightlife of another city. She talked about the move up there and the sudden disappearance to England. Some of her stuff was still in Sydney, including some personal keepsakes like a bracelet from her mother. Sadie explained that Lewis and Max knew about the witness protection, but nothing further. She’d only told them when they visited her in hospital the day after the accident and after some significant convincing. She answered questions about her leg and how it had healed, which had turned out to be quite well.

“How much physio did you have to do?” There was guilt in Lando’s question.

“Just some at home things, it was quite easy,” Sadie admitted. She didn’t want to elaborate on the facts she hadn’t done any official physio because she couldn’t afford it. Australian public health care was good, but not that good. “How well has the ankle healed?”

“It was slower than I wanted but I’m cleared for next season which is good.”

Max grumbled, “but he didn’t stop complaining about it for months.”

“I was in pain, mate!”

“I know! You told me every chance you got!”

Sadie smiled at their banter, glad they weren’t holding up walls of suspicion anymore.

As she pulled up to the Piastri Family home, she cleared her throat. “I- ummm… It was good to see you again Lando, and good to meet you Max.”

“Oh no,” Lando chided. “We’re not done, I am not letting you just drive into the sunset again.”

“It’s already dark,” Sadie pointed out. “And that’s not what happened the first time.”

“And on that note, I’m out,” Max exclaimed. “It was lovely to meet you, Sadie. Thank you for what you did at Silverstone.”

He jumped out of the car before she could say anything and practically ran to the red front door of a small, low set home.

Lando undid his seatbelt and turned to face her, pulling a leg onto the seat.

“Sadie, you vanished.”

Straight into then.

“I feel better seeing that you’re in one piece, and not hearing it from news,” she murmured.

“That’s what you have to say?” he scoffed.

Sadie pushed down irritation. She might struggle to stay in one place for very long, but she was a patient person who had drawers of calm, collected masks to choose from.

When she didn’t answer, Lando shook his head and closed his eyes.

“How do you think I felt?” he snapped. “Lewis told me you had stitches. How many? I know you can walk, but how long did it take for the limp to go away? Did you need crutches? Because you know that I did, and you know how long I needed them for.”

“How much did Lewis tell you?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thi-“

“How much, Lando?”

The panicked edge to her voice had Lando pausing, looking closer at her face through whatever haze was over his mind.

“Just that,” he breathed. “He told me you’d needed stitches but were okay. He wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

The fist around Sadie’s heart relaxed slightly as she sighed with relief. “Okay, as long as it was just that.”

“You’re scared,” he stated like he’d only just noticed. His watercolour eyes were lit slightly by a nearby street lamp. They appeared hazel in that light and it was a detail Sadie wished she hadn’t noted.

“I’m paranoid,” she replied just as curtly.

“I was scared,” he admitted, breaking the eye contact.

“That’s fair. If your ankle didn’t heal properly, your career might’ve been over.”

“No, that’s not- Well I was scared about that but I meant that I was scared for you.”

Sadie frowned. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t know if you were okay! You put yourself on the line for me, you saved my life and I didn’t know if you were okay!”

“I didn’t save your life,” she scoffed. “It wasn’t headed for your heart.”

“I rewatched the footage,” Lando confessed with a sheepish smile. “If you hadn’t put yourself between me and the track? The debris would have hit me and my career could have been over.”

“Your career, Lando. Not your life.” Her voice was the softest it had been all night. It even surprised her.

“My racing is my life, Sadie.”

“I-“ but he cut her off.

“I never got to thank you in person.”

“You can do it now.”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?” Her patience was slipping. She pulled another mask from the drawer.

“I think you’d take it as closure, or something. Then you’d leave and I would never see you again.”

He wasn’t wrong. She’d began to form a plan on how to give him the answers he needed, and then vanish again. He was a liability to her safety.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Sadie couldn’t bring herself and meet the gaze she could feel on her.

“Max almost punched a reporter,” Lando said.

That had her looking up at him, a confused smile on her lips.

“What?”

“In the media pen, Max almost punched a reporter that wouldn’t stop asking about you.”

A laugh bubbled out of Sadie. Max Verstappen? Protecting the young woman who had ego-checked him at Albert Park?

“I’m serious!” Lando insisted, but his smile was widening. “The guy asked every driver, but Lewis and Max had already told everyone to say nothing. The reporter was so frustrated at getting ‘no comment’ from every driver. Max’s interview was second or third last and the reporter asked something so out of pocket. If you find the interview you can see Max trying not to hit the guy.”

Sadie laughed again, and she caught Lando grinning in her peripheral vision.

“I did make him swear on his championship,” she commented it.

“What?” It was obvious that detail was also new to Lando.

“After the incident, while we were still at the track, I made Lewis promise to hide me from the media. Max visited my hotel room a few days later, and I made him swear the same thing.”

“On his championship?” Lando was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah.” Sadie couldn’t hold back her own.

They laughed for a few minutes at the absurd notion of Max swearing anything on his championship.

“Jesus,” Lando sighed. “That makes so much more sense now.”

“What does?”

“I tried to find you, after a month. Fuck, I even tried to rope half the grid into helping me find you, but Lewis and Max always shut it down. They never told my why, but I guess that’s it.”

“I’m not going to apologise for trying to protect myself.”

“You’re good at protecting,” he said.

It wasn’t the most random comment he’d made that night but it was the one that stuck out the most.

Sadie didn’t know how to reply.

She didn’t have a chance to think about it when she saw a shadowy figure moving toward the car.

“Lando, get out of sight,” she warned.

He was too shocked by the immediate change in demeanour and topic.

“What?”

“Just- oh. Nevermind.”

As the figure came closer, they stepped into the lamplight and Sadie recognised Oscar Piastri.

“It’s Piastri,” she breathed.

Lando wound down his window and waved.

Oscar leant down, rested both arms across the opened window and glanced between them.

“Hey, how are you?” He began.

“Could be better,” Sadie quipped with a joking smile.

“I’m trying to convince her to stay,” Lando explained.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Stay the night or-“

“No, Oscar!” Lando laughed and Sadie couldn’t help but like sound.

“He means in your lives. But I can’t.”

Oscar tilted his head sideways quizzically and some of his hair fell into his eyes. “Can’t or won’t.”

“Both.”

“You make it sound like you don’t have a choice,” he observed.

“She does,” Lando said at the same time as Sadie’s “I don’t.”

“Lando, I-“

“No, Sadie you do have a choice. Not every part of our lives is public.”

“I’m still very confused,” Oscar added.

Sadie’s patience slipped again. “Piastri, I fucked with some dangerous people, and I can’t let them find me. Lando, you don’t have a private life. If you’re not doing Formula One, you’re doing Quadrant; if you’re not doing Quadrant, you’re partying with Martin Garrix; and if you’re not partying, you’re posting something on Instagram. You live an incredibly public life, and that’s okay, but I can’t join that in any regard.”

Lando looked at her with stunned silence. Oscar was watching her with a very concerned expression. She pointed at him with an intense stare.

"You might think your life is fairly private, but when you post on social media everyone nit-pics at it because of how rare your posts are. And every sighting of you is scrutinised.”

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth but he didn’t say anything.

Sadie pulled in a deep breath and pulled on another mask from the drawer.

“I’m sorry, to both of you, but I’m going to vanish again. I have to.”

“Are you in witness protection?” Oscar asked.

Sadie nodded with a frown. He’d put it together fast.

“When’s the court date?” Oscar’s deep brown were intensely focused on her.

“Wednesday, next week. I will be testifying anonymously.”

“So even if they have gang members who aren’t convicted, they won’t know it was you.” Lando pressed, catching onto Oscar’s train.

“Gang members?” Oscar’s went up an octave.

Sadie waved off the question and focused on Lando. “I see where this is going.”

“Then you can see why I’m right.” His eyes were set on hers, a hand set on the handbrake between them.

Sadie sighed and closed her eyes.

“All of the members who saw my face will be going on trial. A few of them have been convicted already.”

“So after next week, you won’t be in witness protection anymore.” Lando pressed.

“That will depend on whether they’re all convicted and how long their jail time is.”

As Sadie spoke, Oscar pulled out his wallet and an old receipt. He pulled a random marker from another pocket and wrote something on the back before handing them both to Lando. He took this hint and wrote something as well.

When he handed it to her, Sadie noted both their phone numbers and tiny signatures at the end of them.

“Text when the trial is over. Just a yes or no. A yes doesn’t mean that you’re going to to be thrust into the spot light. It’s a maybe.” Oscar said, running a hand through his brown hair.

“It’s a maybe I could thank you properly." Lando added. "A random dinner or a paddock pass to which ever race you want.”

That brought a small smile to Sadie’s face.

“Everyone at McLaren would want to thank you,” Oscar added, but there was a tightness to his jaw Sadie hadn’t noticed until then.

She caved.

“Alright maybe,” she said. “I’ll keep this but I'm not promising you anything.”

Oscar's soft smile said that's enough, but Lando's slight frown meant he wasn't ready to give up. Oscar noted it.

"Lando," he interrupted whatever the older driver was thinking. "Mum made chocolate cake while you were out and wants you to try it."

"She knows about our diets right?"

"She'll insist until you fly out."

Lando sighed with an amused smile and opened his door.

"I'm not going to say thank you, not yet. I'm not even going to say goodbye."

"It might be your only chance," Sadie reminded him.

Lando shook his head as he stood, brown curls waving in the small breeze. Oscar pushed his door shut gently and ducked his head back through the window.

They watched Lando walk away, oblivious to the fact Oscar wasn't on his heals.

"I saw it happen, at Silverstone," Oscar murmured. "I saw you make the choice."

"I didn't choose. I reacted. There was no choice, or thought process, or thoughts at all, actually. It was just an action."

"An action we're all grateful for, but-" His voice dropped, as if Lando would hear him if he was any louder. "- I want to thank you for making that choice, or doing that action, whatever."

"Stop," Sadie demanded. "Stop, Piastri."

He did. The first one to stop the first time she asked.

She pulled in a deep breathe and calmly explained, "I did what I did. It happened. I know you're all grateful, but it has to stay at that. This is not a movie, where a chance meeting leads to years of friendship."

"I wouldn't call being hospitalised for being a human shield, a chance encounter," Oscar noted dryly.

"You get my point," she replied.

"I do, and I think I understand." He stepped away from the car. "You have our numbers. Call us and we will be there."

Sadie smiled slightly but didn't give him any hope.

"Go, before Lando comes back out."

"It was good to meet you, Piastri."

"Good luck, Sadie."

With that, the handbrake was off, car in gear and she was gone.

----$----

I know y'all loved the Max/Sadie dynamic in chapters 1 and 2 so how about some more Max content next chapter? ;)

Masterlist…

Taglist; @snubug

#lando norris #f1 fanfic #get your shit together #f1 x oc #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine

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autumnywinter · 15 days

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Yandere Elliott Headcanons (Stardew Valley)

TW: Yandere behavior, suggestive content, insinuated threatened suicide

Yandere!Elliott is the pinnacle of an obsessive yandere. Of course he has some possessiveness and protectiveness too, but above all he is obsessed with you.

He's a tad bit delusional, but does occasionally have some self-awareness. He's fully aware what he's doing isn't normal, but he truly believes everything he does is for you, and his intentions are all that matters. Love is a complex thing, right?

Though he isn't the type to murder unless completely necessary in his eyes, he will do many other things "in the name of love".

Will send glares at anyone who he thinks is taking up too much of your time (when you could be spending it with him) or gets too touchy with you.

If he thinks someone is a little too interested in you, he'll gently plead as your beloved friend that they're bad news. If that doesn't work, he'll personally confront the person in question, claiming that he has blackmail, whether he's bluffing or not.

Of course, he does send love letters from a "secret admirer". Sings you constant praises and confesses all the horrible, shameful thoughts he has. But while writing in his exquisite cursive, you'll notice when it becomes more sloppy, a telltale sign he got a little too excited confessing his infatuation with you.

Stalks you very often. Whenever you're sick, there's a basket with medicine, snacks, and flowers at your doorstep, all gifted to you by your devoted secret admirer ♡

He isn't very good at hiding his obsessive tendencies. After all, who else in town writes with such delicately scripted words?

When you're deep in your friendship with Elliott, it becomes even more obvious. His face is bright red, and he has an almost drunken smile whenever you're near him. Buries his nose in your hair and inhales, always commenting how heavenly you smell, how right you feel in his arms.

Sneaks into your house while you're gone or asleep. Won't do anything but watch you, even if he's tempted to do more. Just viewing your such peaceful, serene state is enough for him. Sometimes.

Other times, he takes your belongings. He returns them--most of the time--but of course he keeps a few keepsakes, too. Underwear, lipstick/lip gloss, toothbrushes even. Despite being vanilla, this man is a freak.

Will take his time building up your affection. As much as he'd love nothing more than to sweep you off your feet immediately, he can be patient. As long as you keep being your incredible, sweet self to him.

He'd much rather not have to resort to kidnapping. He wants you to adore him as much as he adores you, and he has some self-awareness that if he kidnaps you, there's a good chance you'll hate him forever. The mere thought makes him feel terrified.

If you confess your love to him first, he won't cry, but he will be on the verge of it. This is all he could've ever wanted! He can now be as flirtatious and romantic as he'd like with you now and not be seen as creepy!

Him confessing his love first would be planned out very carefully. He'd try to seem like his usual charming and smooth self, but you'd notice how he'd occasionally stammer a little, and how his entire face is tomato-red.

Only when you're married will he seem to tone it down. He's even more obsessive than ever, but he doesn't follow your every movement as much. Not unless he grows suspicious of you. He'll be more heartbroken than genuinely angry if he finds out you've been cheating or have fallen out of love with him.

Before he met you, he was depressed and believed everyone had a soulmate but him. You are his reason for living, without you he is nothing. And he likes to think you think the same way vice versa, deep down.

Never would hurt you, but can be a little scary. He switches between loving, to hysterical, to eerily cold. Will insinuate and say terrible things when you've been distant to the point he thinks you might leave him.

"...Dearest? You know I love you, right? If you were to leave me, I really don't think I could live with myself."

"If I had it my way, you wouldn't need to ever leave the house. In fact, you don't need to. I can provide for us both. Is there any reason you insist on leaving me all day?"

"Sometimes I'm tempted to tie you up and keep you all to myself. Not that I'd actually do that, haha... maybe one day."

Just make him believe you adore him as much as he adores you, and everything will be fine! :)

#yandere #yandere elliott #elliott sdv #elliott stardew valley #stardew valley #yandere stardew valley #sdv #sdv elliott #elliot sdv #yandere x reader #elliott x reader

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pseudonymphomania · 3 months

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"Shout Your Heart Out", the narrative compulsion of unrequited yearning, and the things that stick with me

How to do DiaLuci correctly: in the NB "Creating Records" WW, Diavolo takes many pictures of Lucifer as keepsakes, to Lucifer's resignation, until Lucifer takes the phone from him. Diavolo is a very extra person. He does things to their furthest extent and is a very goofy character despite his propensity for sound judgement in other matters. Lucifer taking the phone from him reestablishes Lucifer's agency. After a heart-to-heart, the skit culminates in Lucifer taking a selfie with Diavolo of his own volition, not because he is forced to, but because he cares for Diavolo as a friend. Lucifer gives Diavolo his phone back and taps him on the chest over his heart. The scene is a balanced reflection of the care these two have for each other in their different ways. The denouement [the final part of a narrative in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved] is delicious, heartwarming, interpretable, logically sound.

How to do DiaLuci incorrectly: in "Shout Your Heart Out", Diavolo practices for weeks yelling about all the things he likes about Lucifer. His words leave little to be interpreted. He gets MC involved for no narratively compelling reason and despite having that quality time together, there is nothing much that sells even a friendship with MC aside from circumstantial presence. When it comes time for the event, Diavolo tells the world how much Lucifer means to him and how attractive he is (this is a romantic trope). Then the brothers stand there awkwardly commenting on this, including the object of the prince's affections, Lucifer, who says, paraphrased, "I don't care". Then, finally, after Diavolo confesses his love for Lucifer, he pulls MC on the stage and confesses to them and kisses them. (Denouement: ???)

I already made comments on someone else's post about my feelings regarding the card and despite an entire day passing and a real life to live and bills to pay, I couldn't get this out of my head.

I think I know why.

As much as I play this game to get the DiaLuci crumbs, this card left me feeling really hollow and sad. Canonically, Diavolo and Lucifer are best friends. This is exemplified by their first meeting (OG "Glory Days" Lucifer UR), their continued meetings as representatives from their respective realms (NB: Seven Apples" Diavolo UR), Diavolo's support to aid fallen Lucifer who asked him for help (Story Canon both games), their mutual regard as Devildom leaders (Role of Prince and Whip respectively in respective chapters), their affection for each other in general (little things like Lucifer offering to take half of the consequences in the past Christmas event because he couldnt let Diavolo take it on himself). This is explicit and textual. In this card, having Lucifer not give even a little bit of a shit is anti-character development.

The implicit is where the fans live; an interpretation of a written text is subject to the whims and tastes and biases of the perceiver. It is my pleasure to interpret them as a romantic relationship, a beautiful friendship, among everything they are and could be for each other. But.

But... to explicitly, in no uncertain terms, have Diavolo stop just shy of saying I Love You to Lucifer ("Shout Your Heart Out") and have the reaction to that be status quo indifference, then have Diavolo get washed by the narrative to remember the MC exists is some astronomically bad storytelling. Lucifer is a major poster-boy. Metaphysically, it's not possible to have him reciprocate because its an otome and he's a big money-maker (This is where the fans ignore the meta of the game and run with the interpretation of the text because it doesnt matter if something is canon or not in the grand scheme of things; DiaMC fans exist, LuciMC fans exist, Dialuci-polycule-sandwich fans exist, DiaLuci fans exist, ANTI-all-of-the-above exists).

Now, this card makes it explicitly textual that Diavolo is in a constant state of yearning (sad). This card makes MC the rebound (in a dating sim??). This card doesnt even have Lucifer react to the DiaMC kiss when Lucifer is supposed to be into MC. He's just there (Asmo got more screen time!). This is tragic for everyone involved. In a game about "romance", this card is an absolute travesty, and because of that I spent all day thinking about it like it was something of consequence in my busy life.

By comparing the two scenarios above, there is a very strong lesson here about the strength of a beautifully crafted narrative, so I am amiss as to why this card exists if not to commit to the ideas as written. (This is rhetorical; I know why)

Note: this is not an either-or situation. The DiaLuci and DiaMC plots CAN be done at the same time in one card, but it takes skill and a commitment to the kind of storytelling that is very hard to do with corporate and stakeholder meddling, deadlines, interprofessional and jurisdictional impudence, misunderstandings of market demographics and consumer behaviors, funneled into what is essentially a 4-koma Devilgram.

Am I still a hardcore DiaLuci shipper? Yes. Obviously. My personal denouement [headcanon] is that the love is requited. But poison can still smell delicious to a mouse before it kills it. *sighhhhh... saves the screenshot of Diavolo admiring Lucifer's attractiveness reluctantly* I just care about the value of a good story a little bit more because both DiaLuci and DiaMC were done so dirty here. 😭

Conclusion: the real winners are the cherry pickers who are able to make do with what little exists for them. The portentous winds say that I will become one.

Thank you for reading this and I hope you all have a wonderful day! 🥰

Edit: My opinion has been slightly changed because of a comment on my Reddit post by user Clarasiir. I appreciate that and I'm happy to have experienced a real life Hegelian Dialectic.

Edit 2: A kind reprise. The aftermath of the Devilgram.

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eye-catching-tma-headcanons · 4 months

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i've got a few headcanons to offer.

melanie king is a big fan of the hit fps video game ultrakill.

jonah magnus was half-irish but elias bouchard isn't, so he kind of had to lose whatever remained of that aspect of his identity.

peter lukas is finnish, i know this because i am, and all finnish people just sort of are like that.

simon fairchild's favourite album is hawaii: part II by miracle musical, for both the vast aspects of it and because it's a concept album where the main character's name is simon.

gertrude robinson back in the day was like a film noir detective hunting down avatars while also having sexual tension with every girl she fought and she'd say shit like "nothing personal, montageu. a true archivist is married to the job." for fun

1: Ever Since She Was A Child She Knew… She Was Always Meant To Be An Avatar Of The Slaughter

2: he keeps a few Irish keepsakes around his office, and his only excuse is that he “thinks Irish people are just neat”

3: Finland IS the Lonley. It’s like the I Suffer From Mental Illinois but Finland

4: he claims to be “The Original Simon” and everything else was just named after him

5: she spoke with the Archivist Static but not for compulsion, just for dramatic effect

#the magnus archives #the magnus universe #tma #tma headcanons #melanie king #melanie tma #jonah magnus #tma peter #peter lukas #the lonley #simon fairchild #gertrude robinson

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cellarspider · 2 months

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22/?? An old man, allegedly

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return once again to that movie I wish to send the gift of a single tribble, Prometheus.

Yes, the movie’s gotten around to a twist it’s been clumsily foreshadowing for much of its runtime: Ol’ Man Capitalism, AKA Peter Weyland, is in fact alive and on the ship. I’ve been informed this was a relatively late addition to the plot, according to the available script drafts. His inclusion makes a stab at some themes. Let’s see how they do.

Content warning for deliberately gross old feet, weird religious imagery, death mention, Holloway mention.

Yes, David’s discovery of a living Engineer has meant it’s time to take Weyland out of the tupperware and reheat him for a bit. And it means we get to see Guy Pierce in the flesh, under a pile of old man makeup.

Weyland looks no less weird than he did as a hologram. In fact, he possibly looks weirder, because we no longer have that excuse for why he looks like this. Weyland is very frail, and very frail people’s appearance can change rather drastically in ways that aren’t usually put to film, but frankly, he looks more like Grima Wormtongue has been giving him investment advice.

Weyland is here because he thinks the Engineers can stop him from dying. I’m not certain he’s not already expired, and I’m also not sure where he got that impression. There’s a missing step of logic here, which the movie never mentions, but it’s likely related to the assumptions of christianized worldview: if something is the creator of humanity, then it must also have ultimate power over human life and death. Therefore, appealing directly to it can grant you eternal life. The cosmic watchmaker can replace your gears and keep you ticking indefinitely.

I will go along with this framing for just a bit, particularly because this scene is obviously reaching for some biblical imagery I’ll try and tackle in a moment. When the movie remembers to have characters engage with its themes, there are various reactions to the potential of meeting humanity’s creators.

Shaw is positioned as a true believer, but what that actually means to her is extremely unclear. She has some curiosity about the details of creation, so she’s not buying tickets to the Ark Encounter or whatever. She assumes welcoming and benevolent intention from the Engineers, but there’s never any indication of what she intends to do here, beyond prove herself right.

She’s also christian, and she thinks the christian God ultimately created the Engineers. How does that fit into her cosmogony? She has to be the sort of christian that takes Genesis as allegory, but what does it mean that humans were shaped by another species in their own image? Are humans more faithfully created in the christian God’s image than the Engineers were? Does she think the Engineers have souls? Are they angels?

We get no opinion on any of that from her. We don’t even see much of anything about how her apparently strong faith affects her life, beyond having a family keepsake and having belief in things. Holloway at least had an explicit goal in mind–it was a hubristic goal, but it was a goal. He wanted to get all his questions answered about life, the universe, and everything, answered personally, rather than letting anyone else get there first. Finding out the Engineers were dead immediately took the shine off of that, seemingly because he’d thought they were omnipotent and omniscient, despite being positioned as an atheist in the dialog.

Holloway’s position here was odd, particularly for an alleged scientist. He expresses that the creation of life turned out to be “nothing special” during his drunken funk. This echoes common misconceptions by deeply religious folks about how atheists and/or scientists think: the idea that if you’re so set on finding natural, rational explanations for everything, you’re doomed to view the world without wonder or beauty, just chemicals bouncing around for no purpose. That to seek the logic behind the world is to fling yourself into total anhedonia.

As many others have stated before, that’s not what comes out of it, what they’re describing is in fact called “clinical depression.” Understanding more technical details about how the world works doesn’t take the awe out of it, it makes it even more amazing. I’ve excitedly rambled to people that if sequencing tech was cheaper and easier, I’d love to study the genetics and epigenetics of weeds growing on dirt roads, to find out what makes them different from their cousins living only a few feet away in less crappy soil. The existence of a tuft of grass in dusty gravel is endlessly fascinating to me, and I know just enough about them to want to know more.

But no, Holloway’s behavior is common in depictions of atheists by religious people who fundamentally don’t get that one can exist around religious folks without secretly thinking the same way they do. It’s doubly weird, given how surface-level Shaw’s faith is, in a way that also seems to be written by somebody who doesn’t understand the concept too well.

In any case, Holloway got pre-disappointed in the answers he didn’t get, to the very basic philosophical questions he wanted to ask: why were we made? Do we have a purpose? Those sorts of things. Honestly, he could have had more complex things to say about this, even without dislodging his bro persona. Being a bro does not negate the possibility of thoughtfulness, it just means that thoughtfulness might be expressed differently. I didn’t see the movie doing that with him.

The only other potentially intentional thing it was doing with him is using the sum total of his behavior as a negative example: don’t question these things, it’ll lead you to despair and death. Not sure if they meant that, but the rest of the movie uses the punitive morality of some slasher movies as part of its basic structure, so it’s not an impossible read.

Skipping over David for now and going to Weyland: he’s all about what the Engineers can do for him. It’s a gesture toward people who approach christianity from a transactional angle. Faith in exchange for something. There are definitely people like that out there. A lot of premillennial dispensationalist evangelicals fearfully cling to the belief that, as long as they say the right words, they’ll bodily ascend to heaven and leave everyone else behind for the Antichrist, conveniently skipping that unpleasant “death” thing they don’t want to face.

For those who grew up with that stuff or those brainrotted enough like me to remember it, yes. Yes, I am comparing Peter Weyland to Tim LaHaye. The dialog in this movie is bad enough that it makes me think of Left Behind.

All of this stuff positions the Engineers as either equivalent to the christian god, or to the imperfect gnostic demiurge who is mistaken for a god. But frankly, the Engineers seem more like they were trying to make a sourdough starter, but the last time they opened the fridge, it’d grown fuzz and smelled awful. They were ready to throw out their project.

Was there a heavy ritual aspect involved in their actions? Sure. But the movie hasn’t sold me on the idea that they are themselves acting as christian allegory, only that christian allegory is being placed on them by others.

Speaking of Weyland and more christian stuff, he’s getting his feet washed by David.

Must be maundy thursday. Foot washing before entering a dwelling is a practice that started as a practical act in a sandal-wearing culture, and became one of power dynamics and religious symbolism. Water would be provided, or a host would wash the feet of a guest themself, or, if they were rich enough, a servant or slave would do the washing. This is very much the dynamic as far as Weyland is concerned. Weyland believes in souls, David, by his estimation, does not have one, therefore he serves humans.

Of course, foot washing also has connotations of humility, and is strongly associated in christianity with Jesus washing the apostles’ feet after the Last Supper. David has certainly and consistently shown himself to be more competent at everything he does than the other characters, and they wouldn’t have gotten this far without him. He’s working on a level they aren’t, even if he’s still forced to be humble about it. If this is the reading we’re meant to reach for, David’s managing a complicated double-act as Jesus (he’s going to be killed for the sins of man yet rise from the dead pretty soon), and also Judas (he is hella jazzed to betray somebody to their death).

In any case, Shaw tries to convince them not to wake up the Engineer. In response, Weyland essentially goads her about Holloway’s death and her beliefs: “And what would Charlie do, now that we’re so close to answering the most meaningful questions ever asked by mankind? How can you leave without knowing what they are? Or have you lost your faith, Shaw?”

Yes, indeed, Weyland, WWCD. Once you determine that, you do the opposite, and you’ll never be steered wrong.

So of course Shaw decides to go with them.

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(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

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Alt-text rambles

https://wheelchair.spinergy.com/collections/wheelchair-everyday/products/lite-extreme-lx

https://youtu.be/7h8zJHywjAw

https://www.patheos.com/blogs/slacktivist/2015/11/05/left-behind-index-the-whole-thing/

https://www.slashfilm.com/503786/first-photo-and-video-footage-from-robert-zemeckis-a-christmas-carol/

Overflow Ramble #1

I’m in wait-and-see mode on Fallout one right now. I’m not personally a FO:NV person, so I don’t have special attachment to the West Coast stuff, but I see what they were *trying* to do, even if it didn’t land with me at all (TL;DR playing a queer character felt especially bleak thanks to a lack of underground queer culture in the face of the homophobia).

The trailer looks good, there’s conflict between the BoS and NCR, which hopefully means both factions are going to be the absolute, incurable disasters they should be. Goggins playing a ghoul who helped sell the lie of the Vaults is good, and he’s a damn solid TV and character actor. Dale Cooper and 80s!Paul Atreidies himself Kyle MacLachlan plays the vault overseer, so that’s fun. I’m not a TV person so I don’t recognize the rest of the cast, but I’m hoping it manages to be something good. We’ll find out in April, by which point I’ll hopefully be fREE OF THIS MOVIE

Overflow Ramble #2: Tribulation Force

Close-up of Nick Cage deep in his “paying the bills” phase as Rayford Steele in Left Behind (2014), looking precisely as enthused as he should be, to be playing Rayford Steele. I chose this reaction image because I am not subjecting anyone to flashbacks of the older movies with Kirk Cameron in them.

Want to know how I know too much about this stuff, despite literally spending my childhood thinking people just entertained the idea of Jesus the way they did Santa Claus around the holidays?

Because of a blogger by the name of Fred Clark, who decided one strange day in 2003 to write a thorough dissection of the Left Behind books (cite 3). Thankfully for his sanity, he lost steam eventually. …When Tim LaHaye died in 2016. All fear and respect to Fred Clark.

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(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

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#Prometheus 2012 #Prometheus (2012)#this was entry 19 or 20 a week or two ago #And then I found more stuff to ramble about and so I had to restructure #I thought it was going to end at 25 but that's definitely no longer the case #w e l p

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cerise-on-top · 2 months

Note

hey!! its me again. your only current madcom requester (as far as i know), i was wondering if you could please write skittles and possibly deimos (seperate) with an artist s/o? specifically one who is constantly doodling them and making art for them? thank you!

-💾

Welcome back! Thank you for another Madcom request, I was looking forward to writing it! This one was also really sweet!

Deimos and Skittles with an Artist!S/O

Deimos: He draws from time to time himself and isn’t even that bad at it either. Sure, it’s never gonna be an elaborate painting or anything, but small drawings of Sanford eating some kielbasa or Hank getting beaten by Doc again. His drawings are usually more on the humorous side since he prefers those. Either way, he’d feel honoured that you like him enough to want to doodle him this much and draw for him. Yes, he knows that he’s hot shit, but it’s still nice. In fact, everyone at S.Q. will know about you being such a wonderful artist since he’ll show those drawings to everyone. You’re such a nice person, and so good at arts, it deserves to be shown off to everyone he knows. Give him enough drawings and he’ll draw something for you as well. As mentioned before, he’s pretty decent at drawing, but he’ll genuinely put in some effort into drawing you, for example. Deimos gets around a lot, and he does loot quite a bit whenever he can, so don’t be surprised if he walks up to you with some art supplies that he got from somewhere. You’re always on his mind, so naturally he’ll get something for you just so he can see you draw. Sometimes you might even get to draw with each other since he would get into it again ever since he received a few doodles from you. Although I should mention that he’ll still draw funny things to get you to laugh, he does want to see you be in a good mood. And if it’s because of him, even better. However, he’ll keep each and every single drawing of yours in a box, they’re near and dear to him. I know he can draw too, but he would love nothing more than to ask you to draw a picture of you and him together as a keepsake. It’s more personal than a picture to him and takes more effort.

Skittles: Like Deimos, he, too, draws from time to time. Unlike Deimos, he’s not very good at it, but that has never discouraged him from drawing a nice scenery. In his eyes, with everything he creates he’s only gonna get better and better at it, so he really doesn’t mind not being the best at drawing. He likely has tried drawing other grunts as well, including you, so you’ll likely see a drawing of you here and there. How could he not, after all. However, he proudly does show you his drawing as well. Hypes you up like no one else when it comes to you drawing. Sure, he’ll be quiet when you are drawing, but he’ll never miss an opportunity to ask you about some new creations you may have made. He’s as genuine as it gets about it too, he really does want to see your drawings. However, he’s not a very good critic since everything you make is the best thing ever in his eyes, so you really shouldn’t ask him for constructive criticism if you want some. He can and will find something good about each and every single one of your drawings, whether you like it or not. He hangs the drawings you give him up as well. Especially with magnets on the fridge since he wants to see them for as long as possible. Also keeps them in a neatly decorated box, and also shows your skills off to everyone willing to listen to him. If you’re ever down to take some commissions, he’s your best bet since he can always find someone willing to buy from you. Very excitable about your skills and loves talking about you in general. Nevada deserves to know about how great you are. Skittles will also come up to you with some art supplies here and there, if he can find some. As long as you’re happy doodling away, he’s happy as well. Gives you a big hug for each and every single drawing you make for him, he wants to reward you somehow.

#madness combat #madness combat x reader #deimos #deimos x reader #madness combat skittles #skittles x reader #I always wished I could draw but I'm not really patient enough to teach myself and improve haha #I also just realised that Deimos would be sort of like Scout TF2 in this #I always liked to view those two as good friends if they existed in the same universe #except Deimos would likely be a bit smarter. he can probably read #wait he's a hacker he can most definitely read. Deimos is a smart cookie #I love saying smart cookie. it's such a cute expression #I used to have the biggest crush on Deimos when I was still with my ex. Deimos is just really good and fun #I even wrote a fic with him once that I posted as well #not true I've written two fics with him now that I remember #would I have ditched my ex for Deimos? absolutely no questions asked #but then again he was not a very good person in the first place. neither is Deimos but at least I'd have had fun #I'd have gotten to talk about IT with him which is good. I love IT it's such an interesting field. even if computers are the worst

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stevenbasic · 6 months

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Growing into the Job, Post 356: That was Then, This is Now, p8

I had climbed up the small spiral staircase in Melissa's office that connected to the upstairs hallway, leading to my apartment. Melissa had found a white lab jacket I could use to adequately cover myself, my torn pants, preserving modesty in my walk through the clinic halls. But I was now stopped dead in my tracks and looking through the open doorway into what remained of my once pristine upstairs apartment. Oh my god…what the f-

I felt my heart drop. What was I seeing? Someone had broken my locked door handle. They had shattered it, along with part of the frame. I looked in horror at the wreckage of my apartment. My clothes were everywhere. My dresser was toppled over, drawers flung about. My new kitchen table lay on its side, halfway across the room.

I’d been broken into! Ransacked! My blood went cold. I started to panic as I suddenly felt the weight of everything that’s happened come crashing down on me.

WHY?!? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?!?!!

My heart was pounding and my mouth fell agape as my mind raced to comprehend the situation. I stood there frozen on this late Monday morning, suddenly afraid to set foot in my own apartment. I was confused, so utterly confused:

WHEN?!? HOW?!?

Today was the first time I’d been to my place since Friday. I’d spent the entire weekend at Melissa’s so this could have happened anytime over the past couple of days! Had someone broken into the office building just to - what?? - rob me?!? That seemed unreasonable, totally unlikely, right?? I was the only resident left up on this floor, but nothing downstairs had been touched. If anyone was looking for money or valuables they’d have found much more in the office, right??

My heart still racing, I took my first few tentative steps into the apartment. I gingerly avoided all the plates strewn-about and broken on the floor. I didn't want to disturb the scene.

I have to call the police!! They need to investigate!!! Who would have had access to do this?!?

Immediately, I thought of those construction workers. Melissa had said they’d been staying here, overnights, over the weekends. Maybe it was some of them? I shivered, feeling the dread of every lost inch from my now feeble body. What if they meant me harm?? What if they were out to…I dunno - get me?? I was less than five feet tall, I’d be physically unable to defend myself if any of them threatened me. I was easy prey, an easy target. I was feeble and-

But why?? Why would they do that???

Who else could it have been??

They’d torn all my clothes out of the closet, and tossed them about.

I considered the strange things that had been happening lately. Like: who was this “Anderson” nut job? The guy who was sending me these unhinged, conspiracy-theory emails? He was shady, and it sounded like he was mixed up with some unstable people for sure. Was he upset that his sister was in the Evolution product study?

Or were there maybe other men out there that were just plain old pissed off at me? Angry that I’d been hiring so many women, and giving them a place to…what? Gather their power? Did they think I was part of this female equality movement that was looking to ‘put some balance between the sexes’? (haha I can’t believe I used to think that way, how quaint.) Maybe they were looking for, what? Information I might have here? I didn’t keep a lot of paperwork up in my apartment, business or personal. But even that, and its makeshift filing box, seemed largely untouched. It was more my personal items, like my clothes my toiletries and my keepsakes, that seemed all rifled through. Cabinet doors were pulled open. One was off its hinges. Someone was angry! And - god, look what they did to the couch - strong. Very strong. I saw a hole in the wall, and another. Looks like it was made with a fist, from someone tall.

My blood went even colder as I considered a possibility.

I…I was with Melissa every minute, right? Of the weekend? I shivered.

With more dread I considered the possibility. She had her unstable moments, she’d admitted it herself. Some very unstable moments. And I’d seen what she could do, physically, before. Could she have done this? Could she have slipped away? Maybe when I was asleep? Did she sneak out and do…all of this?? Maybe she even did it this morning???

My hand reached out to the countertop to steady myself. My vision was starting to swim as I felt a new wave of fear crash into me. No! I can’t think this way! Melissa loves me, I love her! But, yes, it could be. Things were so weird and fucked up. It could have been her!

But...why would she? It made no sense. None of this makes any sense!! Nothing!! Why am I shrinking?!? Why are women taking over everything?!? Why can’t everything be NORMAL?!? Why can’t it all go back to THE WAY IT USED TO BE?!?

My vision swam again as a great deluge of panic began to sweep over me, slamming me against the rocks of my mind. I was lightheaded, and had to use both hands on the silverware-strewn countertop, now, struggling just to stay upright. I tried to take a deep breath but managed only a beleaguered sob.

PLEASE!! Please let’s go back to when I had a life!! Independence! Control! Back before all this craziness! Remember?!? Everything was so…easy!

Behind closed eyes, my mind looked for something. It looked for something to calm itself. It started to, yes, bring to life a fantasy, bring me back in time…

…

I was sitting at my desk, looking at my hands. My normal, healthy, regular-guy sized hands.

My wedding ring was gone. Huh. When did that happen?

Looking around things felt a bit…older, more familiar, comforting in a way. My office was unusually large and inviting. A couch and leather chairs sat in the corner next to…a small liquor cabinet? Brandy or whisky or whatever it was sat ready to be poured on the coffee table as smooth jazz quietly drifted in from an RCA tabletop radio across the room. Sitting behind my large desk I felt strangely content. No, it was more than that. I felt confident.

A knock at my door, and in came Lakshmi. She had a chart, a couple of them. Paper charts, which looked like the ones we used to use back before our EHR system.

Hello Doctor, she began, respectfully, I just had a few questions regarding Mr. Kowalczyk’s vitals. They seem a bit erratic.

Okay, well let’s have a look, I said, taking the chart from Lakshmi with a chuckle. Oh, Mr. Kowalski… I began, looking at the results from today's visit, then flipping back a few pages. If I remember correctly he’s in the old folks’ home now. His wife’s been visiting him quite often and my guess is that she’s been slipping him a pack or two of his Viceroys. That would explain these recent numbers.

Lakshmi nodded, hanging on my every word.

I’ll talk to her today, I said, and we’ll check him back in a couple weeks. I'm sure he’ll be just fine.

Oh yes of course doctor! Lakshmi gushed, That makes perfect sense! I do not know what we would all do without you!

No need to worry, hun. I'm not going away anytime soon! I laughed, Unless everyone starts eating their apples!

She laughed a bit bashfully at my admittedly corny joke as if she actually found it funny. Maybe she was just being respectful or…well, I suppose there was a bit of charm to it. I can be quite charming, when I put my mind to it!

As Lakshmi made a note in the chart, I took a moment to look at her. She seemed respectful, deferential, quiet. More like she was back before Melissa, back before all…that happened. But her figure was undoubtedly still - vavavoom - still the bottom-heavy voluptuousness of these recent months, young curves of baby-making hips and thighs that stretched her crisply ironed scrubs. Did she know how much I just wanted to reach out and grab that thing? It was a sight, for sure. She seemed blithely ignorant of her own body’s appeal. She was far more interested in me and what I had to say.

Now this is a breath of fresh air!

Before too long another girl was in through my door and came to Lakshmi's side: her friend Josie, with a chart of her own hugged to her nicely shapely chest. When had I hired this girl? Good job, man! Her hair was done up cutely into a nice bun, with a single strand of brown hair strategically out of place. It made her look adorable, but more than anything I think she wanted me to notice. She wanted me to say something about it and give her my attention.

I was all too happy to oblige.

Hey Josie, love the hair. But is this…? I pantomimed twirling my finger around where her loose strand of hair would be.

Oh silly me! she giggled, abruptly struggling to put the loose strand back into place, Sometimes this hair of mine has a mind of its own! She giggled, fetchingly. Whatever would I do without you, doctor! I would be such a mess!

We all would be! Lakshmi agreed.

Before I could respond, yet another girl - Morgan, our new Hungarian nurse - entered my office. I had just sat back, hands behind my head, reclined backwards in my desk chair and ready to solve another problem when my eyes were drawn to the woman’s prodigious bustline. Another good hire! But Morgan looked upset...

Doctor! We to be having the problem! she blurted, Please! Come the quickly!

I could read it in her face, in her voice, and in the way she held her body. There was an emergency, and I immediately jumped into action. Morgan was a big woman, large and intimidating to some of the other staff, but as I stood up I realized I was taller than her. That struck me as strange, for some reason.

I rushed out of the room, leaving the other girls behind, knowing, on instinct, exactly which way to go.

Morgan tried to keep pace behind me down the hall as we rushed towards the problem. It is Mr. Kowalczyk! He getting the mad at vending machine for not giving the cigarette! she called from behind me, He hit machine very hard, and now it on the top of him! You must hurry! Mr. Kowalczyk very old! He have trouble with the breathe!

I arrived into a crowd of women, my nurses and secretaries, all surrounding the trapped, elderly man. A few were trying helplessly to lift the machine off him, while others simply looked on in shock. His wife stood off to the side, bawling miserably.

It is too heavy we girls cannot lift! Morgan called, and then as I moved in she announced, Move! Move! Doctor is here! Doctor is the here now!

With that, the crowd parted in front of me, allowing me to get right to work. Rolling up my sleeves and steadying myself, I took hold of one of the vending machine's corners, and braced my legs. With a bit of effort I was able to slowly lift it off the poor man. The girls all began to cheer, but I knew that this was not the end of Mr. Kowalczyk’s troubles.

I need Mr. Kowalawitz in room 1-A STAT!! I commanded, as several girls helped pull him from under the vending machine I held off the ground, Get him on O2 and check him for any lacerations or signs of fracture. We’re going to keep him for observation but get the hospital on the line!

At that, some of the crowd scattered, girls going off to perform their specific jobs while I stayed to coordinate the effort. Mr. Kowalstein wasn't going to bite it on my watch! In the meantime, the girls were beginning to clap. They were applauding me, praising me for my strength and quick thinking!

Clapping!!

The girls were clapping! I closed my eyes and I could hear the clapping the clapppppin. I smiled at the clap-clap click-clapping … click-click-clap clack-CLACK CLACK-CLACK <CLACK-CLACK CLACK-CLACK>!!!

…

Heels, in the hallway, moving fast. Running?

“Oh my god Dr. J what happened !?!?!?”

===============================================

thanks to ResistanceIsFutile for lots of the inspiration for this entry

#growing into the job

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hils79 · 10 months

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DMBJ Entry Level Fanwork Recs

Following on from this post a few people asked for some recs for fanworks they can read to get a better handle on the fandom and the characters if they don't know much about what DMBJ is about

This is by no means a definitive list, and I'd suggest checking the tags on any fanworks to make sure it's something you'd enjoy before you dive in.

I have my own personal preferences when it comes to favourite characters and ships and while I've tried to throw a bit of everything in here this is a fandom that loves its rarepairs and poly ships so I can't cover everything.

Please, by all means drop me an ask or a reply if you have any questions. I'm always willing to drag new people into the pits with me

A couple of things to start off with:

@foxofninetales has written a very useful list of possible entry points to the fandom

And if you want a very brief overview of the main players (this franchise has So Many characters it's totally okay to be confused) I wrote one over on Dreamwidth at the start of the year

Okay, to try and organise this in some sort of coherent way I'm going to break it up into canon fanworks and AU fanworks. Sometimes an AU is a better way to get to know the characters, or you might want to get a feel for the canonical settings. Reader's choice.

Then I'll break it down into ships in case Fox's guide has got you interested in something specific

Canon

Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

Keepsakes Box by ShenWeiLightning

When Zhang Qiling loses his memories, the Zhang family attempt to whitewash Wu Xie from his world. Only the box he instructed they give him as a precaution was never checked for compartments and some of the pictures hidden inside, lead to certain conclusions...

The POV character has amnesia so you learn things along with him

Tabula Rasa by xantissa

Zhang Qiling forgets. Then he comes to some interesting conclusions regarding his relationship to the man named Wu Xie.

Another amnesia fic so same thing applies as above. I'm pretty sure this was the first fic I read in this fandom myself.

Visible to All But Me by Hils

“To the merging of the Wu and Zhang families,” his uncle toasts with a raise of his glass. "It's not what I'd hoped for in terms of securing the future of our family, as you know, but at least it's better than nothing."

Wu Xie blinks at him and raises his glass to take a drink while he tries to figure out what’s happening. There aren’t that many members of the Zhang family that his uncle has had dealings with. Xiaoge would have mentioned something if he’d entered into some sort of arrangement with his uncle. Perhaps his Ershu has made some sort of business deal with Zhang Rishan.

Five times Wu Xie didn't know he was dating Zhang Qiling but everyone else did, and one time he figured it out (with some help)

Yes, it's probably poor netiquette to self-rec but this is hands down my most popular DMBJ fic and it's mostly just about Wu Xie being oblivious with no real ties to the canon plot

Liu Sang/Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

Cat's Paw by Merinnan & Xantissa

While some very basic knowledge of The Lost Tomb Reboot is needed for this, you mostly find out what's happening through Liu Sang's perspective so it's not entirely necessary.

Wang Pangzi/Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

A Distracting Effort by elenothar

“Teensy tiny favour,” Hei Xiazi starts, with the kind of grin that says he knows he’s about to stir some shit and is looking forward to it. “I need someone to distract Zhao Ji and you” – he points at Wu Xie – “happen to be exactly his type.”

Wu Xie blinks. That’s… not what he’d been expecting.

Next to him Pangzi looks like he’s readying himself to bristle in protective outrage at any moment now and across the room Xiaoge’s relaxed sprawl has turned into something rather more threatening.

Hei Xiazi has opinions on Wu Xie's wardrobe, Wu Xie has opinions on interior decorating, Pangzi has opinions on Wu Xie's flirting and Xiaoge lurks protectively (and pointedly).

While this is not about tomb raiding it is exactly the sort of nonsense that happens in canon on a regular basis

Reunion to Rain Village by achray, hils, teyla and fangirlishness

A series of stories that are all standalone but are all set in and around our shared version of Yucun. The stories are not connected beyond some background themes and characters.

The only thing you really need to know is that the canon franchise ends with the three main characters retiring to a country village to run a restaurant and live in a house that Wu Xie designed and built for them. This series is set during that time but apart from that no canon knowledge is needed.

Hei Xiazi/Xie Yuchen

Why does it have to be you? by blackwatervial

It’s common knowledge that, if a delicate flower finds itself in a dire situation, a knight in shining armour will come to the rescue. Only that Xie Yuchen is no delicate flower, and his knight in shining armour is more of an overpriced mercenary.

This fic is only short but it perfectly covers everything you need to know about their relationship

Gen

Cascade by frith_in_thorns

Liu Sang didn't need looking after. Absolutely not. It had only been a small stabbing.

Unfortunately, Wu Xie overrode him.

Even more unfortunately, that was only the start of everyone's problems.

An excellent tomb raiding adventure with plenty of whump, misunderstandings and tomb nonsense

Take a Cup Of Kindness Yet by fox_of_nine_tales

There are several reasons Liu Sang doesn’t drink, and all of them are true.

I'm trying not to make this rec post entirely about Liu Sang because, as I mentioned in my DW post he's really only in one of the dramas/books. But he's very popular in my corner of the fandom so...

Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

Those who fear darkness have never seen what light can do by Merinnan & Xantissa

When Wu Xie was seven years old, he snuck away from his guardian during one of the digs that Sanshu took him to. Only things went wrong, the entrance collapsed, and it took a week to dig the child out from the near collapsed tomb.

They expected a body. They prayed that the child had somehow survived, but seven days without food or water for an adult would have been deadly, a child had no chances of survival at all.

They found Wu Xie deep in the tomb, sleeping on his little backpack. He was warm and healthy, confused at why the adults were yelling, looking like he’d just stepped into the tomb five minutes ago.

An alternate first meeting where Zhang Qiling is a supernatural creature.

A Swiftly Tilting Planet by slutspeare

Yincangui is Where Lost Things Return, and Wu Xie, captain of the Wushanju , has been trying to find it since his uncle went missing fifteen years ago. The only thing is that no one is quite sure that it actually exists, except for Liu Sang, who manages to finagle his way onto Wu Xie's ship and into their quest. Without any solid proof or idea of where they're going, it seems like Yincangui is always going to be a lost dream... unless the crew of the Wushanju can unravel the threads of the universe and lead themselves to what they've been searching for.

Absolutely stunningly written space AU where no real prior knowledge of canon is needed.

Liu Sang/Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

Catch and Release by Merinnan & Xantissa

After weeks of being on the run from the people who'd been experimenting on him, Liu Sang was cold, hungry, and still hiding as a fox. When he came across a live capture trap in a large garden, baited with good, good food, he decided it was worth the risk. Then kept coming back again. And again.

Wu Xie just wanted to catch and socialise a feral cat into a pet. He hadn't planned on a fox deciding the trap he'd put out was a convenient and consistent source of food.

There's a lot of fics in this fandom where Liu Sang can turn into a fox. It's entirely down to this Liu Chang photoshoot so I figured I'd put one in here as a taster. Plenty more where that came from if you like it

Hei Xiazi/Xie Yuchen

Ad Hoc Services by fox_of_nine_tales

If assumptions make an ass out of you and me, well, why let a perfectly good ass go to waste?

In which Hei Xiazi is mistaken for a prostitute and his evening just gets better from there.

This might be an AU but it perfectly encapsulates how ridiculous these two idiots are

Vids

If you're more of a visual person these vids are a taster of what the fandom is all about (also linked in my DW post if you've already looked at that). It's a mixture of general fandom vibes and ship specific vids (and one solely about Pangzi because I love him)

youtube

This is just a very small sample to get you going. If you're not in the fandom and this has piqued your interest feel free to let me know and I can try and put together a more specific rec list for what you like

If you are in the fandom, feel free to reblog with any additions that you think should be on the list. This is only intended to be a sampler.

#fic recs #dmbj #pingxie #pingpangxie #heihua #entry level fanworks #Youtube

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alj4890 · 10 months

Text

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a Choices The Royal Romance Crackship AU

Masterlist

A/N This chapter focuses mostly on Olivia's thoughts and actions just as the prologue focused on Maxwell's. The following chapters will show both sides as they begin to see each other more and more during the social season. On a side note, you have no idea how delighted I was to replay Book 1 the other night and notice the colors Maxwell wore to the Masquerade Ball. It was meant to be 😉

Song Inspiration for Olivia: Cold as Ice by Ava Max

Chapter 1

Olivia's chambers, The Royal Palace, Night of the Masquerade Ball...

Olivia eyed her dark gray and silver gown critically. Even though Liam had seen her more times than anyone else in Cordonia, she still wanted to appear at her best for the new crown prince. After all, this was her moment to finally make him consider a future with her.

Who knew when Leo abdicated that this could be the beginning of a dream she'd held onto since she was a little girl?

There was no one like Liam. He was everything good, loyal, and true in her world. His patience and unending kindness was something she herself struggled with, yet admired all the more in him. Since he had the heart, she knew she could be just what his life was missing: strength.

Her very genetic makeup was overflowing with the attribute. It also was filled to the brim with a cold, calculated ruthlessness that few women of the Royal Court possessed. Since Liam's compassion might possibly make him a target, she knew she was the perfect person to protect that rare gift from the ones who would take advantage of it.

She finished brushing her hair, placed a diamond clip to hold her rich red curls in a cascade over her shoulder, and then reached for her locked travel case that held her jewelry she saved for balls and formal dinners.

Her eyes fell upon a rather worn set of papers that were slightly singed in places that she hadn't seen in a few years.

Without wondering why she was doing so, she lifted them out.

Maxwell's poem had caught her eleven year old self completely off guard. After all, she had eyes for no one but the younger prince. Maxwell might have been a good friend and fun playmate growing up, but to actually have him as a significant other...that was...well...

It was something she could never allow herself to contemplate, much less even give a chance. It was a forbidden, almost taboo subject that her aunt spent one of her rare visits harping upon.

She could recall her Aunt Lucretia's reaction to finding the poem a few days after she received it as if the irritating woman was recreating the scene in her room right now.

***************

"What is this, Libby?" Lucretia demanded.

"It's nothing!" Olivia felt both embarrassed to be caught with something like that and furious that her aunt had gone through her personal keepsakes. "Maxwell gave it to me."

"Beaumont? The Spare of Ramsford?" Lucretia's eyes narrowed. "Are you encouraging his," she spat out the next word, "love?"

"No!" Olivia snapped. "We're just friends! I don't know why he wrote that!"

"A Nevrakis doesn't have friends. She has allies, ones who give more than they receive." She crumbled up the papers that Maxwell had poured his heart into.

Before Olivia could stop her, Lucretia threw the wad of sentimental drivel into the great room's fireplace at Lythikos.

"You are meant for far greater things than some spare to a dukedom. Your parents intended you to sit and rule over people, not lower yourself for some lesser noble. You might as well dirty yourself with that commoner Constantine allows to live in the palace with his sons. That's closer to Maxwell Beaumont's level in society." Lucretia narrowed her eyes at her niece. "Besides, love makes one weak. It makes a fool out of people. We Nevrakis are never fools. Do you understand?"

Olivia nodded, watching as the poem began to burn along the edges.

"Good." Her aunt rang for one of the servants to have her car brought around and her bags taken. "I expect to never see anything like this in your room again."

Without so much as a farewell, Lucretia swept out of the room.

Once the door was shut, Olivia dashed over to the fireplace and quickly pulled the crumpled papers out. She ignored the burns to her fingers as she quickly patted out the flames. She gently smoothed the wrinkles out as best she could.

She didn't quite understand why Maxwell had given her this. He always acted strange whenever it was July, saying and doing things to get her attention. She just chalked it up to him being simply Maxwell. She also didn't understand why her aunt acted like a noble born from a bloodline almost as impressive as her own was basically a pariah social wise.

All she did know was that she wanted to keep this poem. Nothing would ever come from it, but it was still something that somehow held a great deal of importance to her. She felt almost a sense of pride for being the first girl amongst her peers to receive a love poem from a not so secret admirer.

She'd keep it hidden for herself as a trophy of sorts. There was no reason anyone should ever know just how important it was to her.

Or that she liked it.

****************

Olivia found herself rereading Maxwell's old love letter once more. Her lips curved somewhat as she came to the part where he described her hair as a crown of flames that put the beauty of a setting sun to shame. Shaking her head over such foolishness, she slipped it back in her jewelry case.

She'd gotten used to his overly dramatic professions of love. It at first embarrassed her, but as she grew older she simply took it for what it was: Maxwell saw her attributes and couldn't help himself. Olivia knew what others admired about her. She knew her worth and what her greatest assets were: her sharp mind and her striking good looks.

Why stop the compliments when it was simply the truth?

She noticed the time and quickly finished getting ready. Once her mask was firmly in place, she smiled at her reflection.

There is no way Liam will be able to even think of choosing someone over me.

***************

The ballroom was packed with nobles and dignitaries from around the globe. Olivia eyed some of her competition with an amused smile.

It's almost too easy. There's no way these other ladies can possibly compete with me.

Her attention snapped to the door when she heard Maxwell's name announced. Her amused smile slowly fell when another name was mentioned tied to House Beaumont.

Who in the hell is Riley Brooks? And why is Maxwell practically doting upon her?

Olivia meandered through the crowd, keeping the pair within her sights. It was strange that Maxwell had not looked around for a glimpse of her. He always sought her out at these types of events. She'd humor him for a while with conversation and a dance or two. He wasn't a bad sort and she probably was more fond of him than she would ever let on.

But he wasn't acting normal. His dimpled smile was directed only on this mystery woman. He was unusually calm. There was no thrumming with the excitement he typically had for a party. He didn't laugh. He hadn't even made a move to get out on the dance floor nor was he sneaking sweets from the nearby buffet.

Olivia despised change, especially in a man who up to this point behaved in a consistent, outrageous manner.

She also hated the unknown, an unknown who must be a suitor for Liam. Her prince.

Summoning a smile, she made her move once this Riley was talking to Drake.

"Will you excuse us," Olivia said in a syrupy tone that made Drake's eyes widen with shock, "but I must have a word with Lady Riley."

She grasped the other woman's arm and practically dragged her away.

"Hey!" Riley wrenched her arm free.

"You're new here." Olivia somehow managed to remain pleasant.

Her gaze swept down the woman's red clad figure. It lingered on the well placed horns.

She really is a devil, Olivia thought. Who else would have the unmitigated gall to wear my color?!

A devious smile curled Olivia's lips.

"Have you met the king yet?" She asked.

Riley shook her head. "No. Maxwell said he would go talk to him first."

"He did, hmm?" Olivia felt an unusual amount of anger flood through her in hearing that. "Let me give you some advice, since you're clearly not a Cordonian."

Riley only quirked an eyebrow in response. If Olivia was already not so set against her, she'd have admitted she was impressed with Riley keeping her cool.

"When you greet the king, remember to kiss his shoe."

Riley blinked. "Kiss his what?"

"Shoe." Olivia replied. "It is customary for all in attendance to pay homage to our king. We being so far below our monarch," her dispassionate gaze swept over Riley once more, "some more so than others, we all must prostrate ourselves before him."

"I see." Riley mumbled, eyes narrowing somewhat in thought.

Olivia noticed Maxwell approaching. She met his eyes and felt a jolt to her system. It was an unusually guarded look in those ocean blue depths of those eyes of his. She couldn't quite tell what he was thinking.

Feeling a bit off kilter in not seeing the obvious adoration in his gaze, she excused herself from Riley. She glanced back to see Maxwell smiling once more at this interloper. He took her arm to lead her over to the line of nobles waiting to greet Liam and Constantine.

Olivia couldn't find a good enough vantage point inside the ballroom. She slipped outside into the courtyard and made her way over to a set of glass paned double doors that allowed her a perfect view of the dias on which Liam stood.

Though she watched Riley with a hint of irritation greet Constantine with a proper non kissing of the shoe curtsy, she could not stop her attention drifting over to Maxwell. He was still acting so out of character. His ramrod posture. The proper tilt to his head. The simple polite smile. She wanted to go over and slap the back of his head to knock the real Maxwell back into place!

If there was one thing she always knew she could depend on, it was that Liam always did the right thing and that Maxwell was always doing his own thing.

She rather admired that quality in Maxwell. No matter what the consequences might be, he never hesitated in doing what he wanted. If he'd been a touch cruel and ruthless in his actions, she'd have thought that a Nevrakis might have at one time been with a Beaumont. But, his antics were innocent and almost always somewhat endearing.

What made him change?

She scanned the crowd for Bertrand. Was he the root cause of Maxwell's new behavior. When she didn't see that more serious minded duke anywhere, she settled her attention once more on Riley.

It has to be her that made him like this. When did it happen? How did they meet? What power does she really have over Maxwell?

And why does it look like she and Liam know each other?!

Olivia was practically seething. She briefly nodded to Kiara and Penelope when they joined her outside. Their conversation revolved around those in attendance and all the usual bits of gossip. Hana soon came outside to greet them.

She was one of the new women to enter their world. Olivia had investigated her the moment she was mentioned to be visiting Cordonia. She might be a possible contender for Liam. She'd been trained in everything and succeeded beyond what many of the ladies could do. She was gorgeous. She also seemed genuinely kind.

She's weak. Too weak. She won't be an asset to anyone, much less Liam.

If she'd known about Riley, she could have investigated her beforehand too. Now she'd have to go about it during the season.

Riley came outside, smiling brightly at them all, and settled between Hana and Penelope.

"Hello." She said to the others. "Everyone having a good time?"

"Of course." Hana replied, relaxing somewhat. "How did it go with meeting the king and Prince Liam?"

"Great." Riley sent a brief smug look towards Olivia. "Both were very happy to meet me."

Olivia humphed. "It looked like you and Liam already know one another."

"Funny how looks can be accurate." Riley quipped. "We've met before."

Olivia's eyes narrowed. Kiara and Penelope took their cues from her and also glared at this unknown entity.

"And where would someone like you possibly meet a prince?"

Riley shrugged with a smile. "The usual places."

"When?" Olivia snapped, irritated with getting nothing out of this woman.

"Once upon a time." Riley teased, thoroughly enjoying this conversation.

"Cute." Olivia bit out. "Regardless of your relationship with Liam, you don't stand much of a chance with him."

"And why is that?" Riley asked as if they were discussing the weather.

"Look around you. You are surrounded by noble ladies who possess the stature and knowledge one needs to reign over a country."

Olivia gestured towards Penelope and Kiara, explaining their lineage and talents.

"Even Hana has a better chance than you despite her broken engagement."

"Thanks?" Hana grumbled.

Seeing Riley still unfazed with the notion of competing with women so far out of her league, Olivia released her frustrations on Hana.

"You should be proud of yourself, Hana. I can't think of too many women who are brave enough to face everyone after such an embarrassing end to their engagement. I mean, to think that after being dumped by some minor earl that you could capture a future king is truly remarkable."

The tears filling Hana's eyes gave Olivia the reassurance she needed that she could still cut people down with her sharp tongue as well as she could with the dagger strapped to her leg.

Riley had somehow made her doubt that ability for a few seconds.

"Hana?" Riley reached out to comfort the distraught lady. "You don't have to listen to her."

"But she's right!" Tears began to fall down Hana's cheeks. "I should have never thought--"

Grasping her skirt, she fled back into the palace.

Riley whirled back towards Olivia.

"You," she hissed, "are a bitch!"

Olivia puffed up with pride.

Damn right I am.

"For what? Reminding her of her place in society?" She asked with a delighted smile.

Riley eyed Kiara and Penelope. "You're really okay with her talking like this?"

"Olivia's only speaking the truth." Kiara snapped.

Penelope added, "If anyone can't take it, then they don't belong here."

Riley glared at them. "I see."

"Do you?" Olivia needled.

"Oh, I definitely do." Riley replied. "Tell me, what makes you so far above the rest of us?"

Olivia began to explain her status as a duchess and why her chances were so great with Liam.

"He would be stuck with a friend like you." Riley taunted. "Good thing I'm here to save him from having to pick his princess from a bunch of children pretending to be so called ladies."

Before Olivia could respond to that, Riley went after Hana.

*****************

Later that night...

Olivia caught sight of Maxwell leaving a bedroom that must be Riley's. Determined to find out what was going on, she called out to him.

He paused mid-step and walked towards her.

"Good evening, your grace." He greeted politely. "Did you enjoy the ball?"

Olivia glared at him. "What's wrong with you?!"

He blinked. "Nothing. Why?"

"Because you're acting weird!" She snapped.

"I am?"

"Yes!" She hissed. "And I don't like it."

Maxwell's eyes drifted over her face.

"Why?" He asked.

"Why what?" She demanded.

"Why don't you like how I'm acting?" He reiterated. "I thought my behavior tonight was pretty appropriate for the most part."

"That's what I don't like! Since when have you ever acted like some proper, boring nobleman?" Olivia jabbed her finger into his chest with each word.

Her eyes widened when she finally noticed his suit. It was black and red...Lythikos colors. Had he chosen it on purpose for the Masquerade Ball or was it just a coincidence?

"You don't like proper, boring noblemen?" He asked, a hint of a grin forming upon his lips.

Her eyes lifted once more to his. She was not going to dwell on the fact that her colors suited him.

"Who does?!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "Did she make you do this?"

"Who?" He asked.

"That woman you brought tonight."

Maxwell put his hands in his pockets then propped his shoulder against Olivia's doorframe. He studied her about two heartbeats, then shook his head.

Olivia felt her frustrations quadruple. Maxwell was being unusually quiet for once in his life.

She hated it.

"Where did you find that woman?" She demanded.

"In New York." He replied.

"New York? When did you go to New York?!" She nearly screeched.

"Not too long ago."

Olivia groaned. He was giving her a headache with his evasive answers.

"Riley is House Beaumont's suitor." He told her.

"Yeah, I gathered that. And?" She prodded.

"And since this is her first time in Cordonia, I'm going to do my best to make her visit with us as pleasant as it can be." He explained.

Olivia took an involuntary step back.

"You like her, don't you?"

Maxwell nodded. "Of course I do. She's sweet and a lot of fun! Once you get to know her, you'll like her too."

His dimples deepened with his warm smile.

"Riley's really great." He added.

Olivia felt angrier than before she began this conversation.

He never says that about other women. I'M the only ONE he thinks is GREAT!

"I really need to go talk to Bertrand." He glanced down at his watch, completely oblivious to how upset he'd made her with his comments. "He just got to the palace."

Pushing away from her doorframe, Maxwell grinned once more at Olivia.

"See you around, Liv."

Olivia stood there in shock as he walked away without a backward glance.

#choices the royal romance #maxwell beaumont x olivia nevrakis #trr maxwell #trr olivia #trr crackship #can't take my eyes off you #choices the stories you play #choices maxwell beaumont #choices olivia #choices fic writers creations

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anxietytwist · 10 months

Text

𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐝𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞

“𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫”

[ 𝟸𝟶 | 𝟻'𝟷𝟶" | Nonbinary | Demiro Bi | ❤️𝗩𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗻𝘁 ]

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

⊰Fashion⊱

“𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤 & 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴”

⚝ Their favourite accessories (besides the 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 gave them) are 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 with simple/understated designs

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

⊰Notes⊱

ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ➙ They/Them ʙᴜɪʟᴅ➙ 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀʀᴇᴅ ʟᴇꜱꜱᴏɴꜱ➙ Physical (🏹/🗡️) ʜᴏʙʙʏ➙ Gardening 🪴 “ᴄᴏᴘɪɴɢ” ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅꜱ➙ Overworking & Excessive sleeping (whenever they AREN'T working they're passed out somewhere 🛌) ᴘᴇᴛ➙ Boar (𝘙𝘦𝘥 𝘙𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘏𝘰𝘨)

❧ 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 has a tattoo of 𝗔𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗿'𝘀 name (surrounded by stars) on the inside of their right arm; it's positioned to only be visible to them unless you look hard enough 💪😘

❧ Their keepsake from home is their father's sword (which they plan to use at a later date ... for self-defence of course 😉)

❧ 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 feels like they should have died with their family that night (they're waiting for the day they finally get to see them all again) ... so far nothing has changed their outlook 😮‍💨 (once 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙨 is “dealt with”, or they find out that 𝘾𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙖 WAS guilty, they plan to join their family in death)

❧ Before their family was killed they used to be a huge crybaby; they've vowed to NEVER let another person see them “weak” EVER AGAIN 😠(they have a hard time being open/vulnerable, even with those they wholeheartedly trust)

❧ 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 keeps their hair 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 simply because it reminds them of their brother (the twins enjoyed looking as identical as possible when 𝘼𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙧 was still alive 🥲) ... if it gets too long they quickly cut it or else they'll meltdown

❧ They absolutely refuse to wear any colour other than white (NOBODY is going to take their mourning from them 😔 ... they'll only stop wearing white when either THEY or 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙨 is dead)

❧ 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 does their best to temper their rage with fake smiles & meticulously crafted words (they're especially restrained when interacting with any “innocent parties”), they reserve any cruel jabs for 𝗟𝘂𝗰𝗲𝗿𝗶𝘀 & anyone overtly hostile towards them (carefully hidden behind sarcastic quips 🙃)

❧ Over the years they've come to view 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 & 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗼𝘁 as their “family” (as an adult they've become more standoffish towards 𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙩 though since his loyalties & heart will ALWAYS lie with 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙨 ... they doubt he'd be able to care enough to defend them it ever truly came down to choosing them or 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙨 😒)

❧ 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 refers to their journal as “Confidant”, & while they do write in it often, simple mundane topics are all that's written inside 📖

❧ 𝗙𝗮𝗱𝗶𝘆𝗮 is the best friend they didn't know they were missing/needed, the support she (+ her mother, 𝙉𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙖) gives them is truly lifesaving 🥺

❧ 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 no longer feels a need for revenge & has instead turned their focus to finding the truth (even if it proves that their sister IS a murderer ... at least their family was killed for a reason & not just pointlessly slaughtered) 🤔

❧ They only celebrate their birthday as a way to honour 𝗔𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗿'𝘀 spirit (otherwise the day is just another reminder of everything/everyone they've lost) 😢🎉

❧ 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 takes their role as Consort quite seriously often to the point of exhausting themselves (no matter how “fake” it is ... at least it gives them something tangible to focus on) 😮‍💨

❧ As adults, the best way to describe their relationship with 𝗩𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗻𝘁 would be “playfully antagonistic ” 😏

❧ 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 is very casual when it comes to their rare “intimate” connections, mainly because it takes time for them to develop romantic feelings for someone ... which honestly suits them just fine (they'd HATE having to go to 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙨 & get “permission” ... + their current plan for the future isn't a very long one 💀)

❧ Their 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳 is named “...”, ____ helps out in the garden 🌱🐗

❧ ...

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

𝐼𝐹: @coeluvr

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

Mature heights:

Picrew used:

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leggerefiore · 1 year

Note

Okay now sad times of S/O being in Hisui and finding out Ingo married someone else (not by love but to keep a peace within the two groups)

two choices here

> throw hands

> Cry About It

he's married to melli. mariticide happens.

cw: PLA Ingo, arranged marriage, angst, comfort

Ingo would admit he felt… Well, strange around you. His marriage to the Diamond Clan member was nothing but a common use of marriage to unite two warring groups. Mai was kind and polite, but the marriage left a wallowing hole inside him. It felt wrong. Perhaps it was something about where he was originally from, but he felt this kind of union to be unfavourable. He was in no place to argue, however. Mai seemingly resigned herself to marry him, but clearly held disinterest, too.

He apologised to her after the ceremony, and she gave his a polite smile.

“It's alright,” she had said, “I can tell you're not a bad person.”

It was not a marriage in anything but name, he knew. They did not love each other, nor did they find interest in each other outside of a shared love for pokemon. Ingo did adore getting to take care of her Munchlax.

Still, you made something stir in his mind. His heart hurt. Especially when you saw him and teared up. Another person who had fallen from the sky… He could only wonder if you had known each other before landing here. He twisted the ring on his left hand nervously. It was a prized possession, as important as his hat and coat. He pondered its meaning, but it seemingly held none locally.

It was when he encountered the professor in the highlands that he finally got something close to an answer. The man held his hand curiously before speaking in a tongue that was easy to understand. “Well, ol' chap, I'd congratulate you on the marriage, but I'm afraid you must be far away from them,” Laventon had said.

“… I'm married to Mai,” he replied, “This ring is a keepsake.” It was the language he knew from before Hisui. It must be spoken wherever the professor originated from.

“It's a golden band on your left ring finger,” he shook his head, “In Galarian culture – Or Unovan, for that matter – It means you are married. I assume you are from Unova due to do your accent.” Ingo felt ice coursing through his veins. M-marriage? Married? He was married before landing here? His heart raced. What did that mean? Ingo could not bear the thought that he had betrayed someone. All his complicated feelings about his union came crashing down on him with one glaring explanation.

He took the ring off in a panic and observed. Inside, an engraving shined. “To my better half, I dedicate myself always to…” The name. The name nearly made him throw the ring. It was too precious, however. He pressed it to his chest as tears welled in his eyes.

“Professor… Does the newest member of the Survey Corps wear a similar ring?” he asked. Laventon froze up.

“… Why, yes, they do,” he replied while nodding, “They have been quite upset as of late, now that you mention it. It seemingly started around the time they met you.” What had he done? Your name was engraved into his ring. He softly returned it to his finger. Would being married to you from before everything invalidate his current marriage? Assuredly. Irida and Adaman could easily understand that situation.

“May… May I speak with them?” Ingo asked. Laventon nervously fiddled with his coat before agreeing.

The pain of hearing from Irida and Adaman that Ingo was married to another after finding him here in your terrible predicament nearly killed you. Someone familiar and close; beloved to you, was amnesic and married to another. Ingo's eyes held no recognition of you. You had sobbed for days, it felt. Barely making progress on your Noble quelling duties until Laventon essentially forced you out into the highlands to at least pretend and convince Kamado.

You sat huddled near a fire as a darkening sky left you empty. The ring on your finger was a bitter burden that you pondered tossing into the flames flickering in front of you. Your Ingo was the sweetest man you knew. His soft, rare smile warmed your heart, and his calming voice always put you at ease. His love was sweet and unending, yet here you were. You would give anything to return to that the days before all this happened and remain in the dull of your Nimbasa apartment wondering about dinner with his Excadrill curled up in your lap.

Did Mai love him? She never mentioned him. You had not really seen them together, either. It made no sense. You curled up and felt lost. Tears poured from your eyes at the confusion and hurt everything about this brought you.

Home. Home was so far from you.

“… It is dangerous to be alone in the mountains at night,” a familiar voice called out to you. Jumping up, Ingo stood on the other side of your fire. His visage was even more despairing. Tattered coat and hat, facial hair, tired eyes. Your Ingo was nothing but a memory now. “I'm sorry,” he unexpectedly said, “I have hurt, and I had no clue I was doing so.” He held his left hand out to show the ring still gleaming on his finger.

You felt stunned. He… kept it? Ingo seemingly understood its meaning. Sobbing, you rushed over to him to embrace him tightly. His arms gently came around you as you sobbed into his tunic. It hurt, but he felt the same. His presence was the same kind one you knew. You loved him. His hand rubbed softly at your back, and he pressed kisses to your head.

The night was spent in each other's familiar, comforting embrace.

“… Irida, I'm aware this marriage holds grave importance, but I must acknowledge that I was married to them originally,” Ingo looked down at his clan leader intensely, “I… I feel as if it holds more merit. It's apparent how it hurts them. They cannot focus on the issues of frenzied Nobles in this state.” The Warden knew he needed to explain the situation to her as soon as he could after that night with you. Your heart was entirely bared to him, and he fully believed your words. A distant stirring in his brain haunted him but refused to come to fruition.

“… You are serious,” she noted, blue eyes piercing into him, “To them, of all people.” The blonde sighed and shook her head. That luck would work against them if it were not for the fact that two certain Wardens were clearly in love with each other. “Adaman and I will work this out… I'm sure Mai will agree without any objections,” she could already hear the black-haired woman's sigh of relief. Had it not been for Palina hiding her relationship with Iscan, she would have chosen them.

She watched Ingo's shoulders drop in an instant. His eyes closed for a moment. “Thank you,” a rare soft tone came from him, “I feel at ease now.” Irida knew of his feelings towards the union, so she was glad it would end without tension. Perhaps…

Perhaps she could convince Ingo to let her officiate his wedding with you in her clan.

You laid warmly under the sheets of the futon as you watched Ingo shed his excess layers of clothes to join you in bed. The marriage with Mai had been quietly dismissed by the clans. Both parties were okay with ending it, and instead cheered on Iscan and Palina's relationship. Mai apologised to you while also thanking you. She was grateful that it was over, but happy to see Ingo comfortable once more.

“… Adaman honestly should have married someone himself to fix the problem,” she had joked. He should have, but you also could not blame them for being unaware of everything. You really needed to thank Laventon for fixing everything. A shiver coursed through your body as he pulled the cover back and crawled under it. You held back a snicker at his uncovered head.

“Back in Unova, I'd have to drag you to bed pretty often,” you told him. He gave an odd look at you, but you just shuffled closer and nuzzled into his warmth. “… I love you, Ingo,” you felt the urge to remind him, “I'm sorry for not speaking with you about my feelings sooner…” Ingo pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I love you, too,” he spoke gently, “You have no reason to apologise. I, too, failed to communicate my odd feelings to you.”

Irida did bravely approach you, asking if she could officiate your marriage to Ingo in this time period.

#ingo x reader #ingo/reader #pokemon ingo x reader #pokemon x reader

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theygotlost · 1 year

Text

I like alister azimuth a normal amount: an almost 1,000 word reflection on ratchet and clank: a crack in time. thanks to the 2 people who will read this

Part 1: Gay Alister Truthing just for funsies

Textually, Alister's motivation is to rewrite history to prevent the Lombaxes from being massacred and absolve himself of his mistake. I don't deny that he wants to save all the Lombaxes who died, but I think he has an additional, more selfish reason: he just wants Kaden back.

Alister and Kaden were childhood friends and it's obvious from the way Alister talks about Kaden that he's very fond of him.

ALISTER: Kaden and I were good friends. He was a great Lombax, smart as they come.

These are in-game voice lines he says in the cave on Lumos, and unfortunately don't have subtitles. I was going to embed screen recordings, but I can only embed one video per post :(

ALISTER: Your father and I used to come here all the time when we were children, back when it was a raritanium mine. It's all dried up now, but believe me, this whole place used to shimmer! We'd sneak in after the vullards left and just... hoverboot through the darkness. Heh, Kaden almost broke his arm right over there. We had some good times out here.

---

ALISTER: You're reminding me more of your father every minute. Come on, we're almost through. I recognize all of this! There's a rock ledge down there we used to hoverboot off of, straight into nothingness. Heh, I was scared the first time, but your father? He didn't blink! (very quietly) Feels like yesterday. RATCHET: General, can we talk about what happened? With my father? With the Lombaxes? ALISTER: Now is not the time for distractions! Not when we're this close!

Note on that last one: why would Alister dismiss Ratchet's questions about Kaden as "distractions" when he was just idly reminiscing about Kaden a second ago? distractions from thinking about how awesome your boy best friend was? 🤨 jk I know the real reason he was dodging the question was because of his guilt but like...

Alister literally carries around a gay ass pocketwatch with Kaden's picture inside it. Make of that what you will. 🤨 Saving all the Lombaxes is undoubtedly important to Alister, but it seems to me like he wants to save Kaden a little more than everyone else.

(Sidenote: Alister literally opened up his pocket watch to look at it while saying this line. Maybe he was just checking the time, but the current time is irrelevant in this context.)

Also… why did he have Kaden's hoverboots?! From Alister's accounts above, it seemed like Kaden loved hoverbooting so I don't think he would let Alister have his boots out of disinterest or something like that. It kind of implies that Alister took the boots after Kaden died as yet another keepsake of him, especially if they were important to Kaden.

Part 2: the “““Found Family”””

Ratchet's arrival is nothing but a constant reminder of Kaden, from the physical resemblance to his personality to the mere fact that Kaden’s son is standing right there in front of him after all these years. Alister repeatedly compares Ratchet to his father, even to the point that it starts to piss Ratchet off.

ALISTER: And you, my dear boy, look just like your father…

RATCHET: Age before beauty, General. ALISTER: Wiseguy. Just like your father.

From one of the voice lines mentioned earlier:

ALISTER: You're reminding me more of your father every minute.

ALISTER: How relevant is the past when it can be changed? Your father would have said "not very". RATCHET: That's him. And you still haven't given me a straight answer!

Alister has been agonizing over his mistake for the past twenty years, but meeting Ratchet is what finally caused him to spiral. He reminds him so much of Kaden that everything just becomes too painful. Every time he tells Ratchet he's just like his father, he's probably thinking, Kaden should be here to see this. He should be the one to see what his son has achieved.

ALISTER: I don’t know how long he survived before Tachyon caught up with him, but I know I was responsible for his death.

Alister's #1 motivating force is guilt. Guilt that he made the wrong decision and wiped out his entire species. Guilt that his best friend was caught in the crossfire so his son had to grow up an orphan and the last of his kind. It's his fault that Ratchet's parents weren't there to raise him, so it's his responsibility to do the job himself. He can absolve his guilt toward Kaden by taking care of his son for him, and absolve his guilt toward Ratchet by becoming the father figure he never had. I'll never forget this line (using my 1 video per post for this one)

ALISTER: Just so you know, I'm sorry that you had to go so long without another Lombax to talk to. If I had known you were alive, I would have come for you. Just know that from this day forth, you have a family.

This is probably why Alister is kind of obsessed with the fact that now Ratchet is there, the two of them can save the Lombaxes together. He’s desperate for Ratchet to forgive him, even if changing the past means he won’t remember any of it.

ALISTER: I can make it right, Ratchet. All of it. I… we can fix it.

ALISTER: It’s just… We’re the only ones who can fix the past.

Voice line during the final boss fight:

ALISTER: I didn't want it to be like this! You were supposed to be here, on my side! We could have saved them together! Have I taught you nothing?!

(Notice the paternal “kneeling down to Ratchet’s eye level and reassuringly putting his hand on his shoulder” body language in the first two)

On a lighter note, I love that Alister decides to give Ratchet a hoverboot lesson. Very “father teaching his son to ride a bike” vibes. Not to mention the number of times he encourages Ratchet or says that he’s proud of him for doing something. 🥺

ALISTER: Are you ready for your first lesson?

ALISTER: The ion coils might be a bit rusty. You’ll get used to ‘em.

ALISTER: Nice job, Ratchet! I knew you could do it! Come on. Get back up there and let’s fight that Eye!

ALISTER: I'm proud of you, Ratchet.

The theme of father and son runs parallel for both Ratchet and Clank. Ratchet’s father died when he was a baby, but Alister gives him answers about the kind of person he was and what happened to him, and takes on a paternal role himself. Clank’s “father” also disappeared before Clank could ever meet him, but is able to learn about him with the help of Sigmund. While Alister and Orvus are both father figures, their attitudes are polar opposites.

When Alister realizes that Ratchet isn’t going to do what he wants him to, he FREAKS OUT and literally fucking kills Ratchet. Meanwhile, Orvus hopes that Clank will take over as caretaker for the Great Clock, but makes it clear that he encourages him to make his own choices even if they don’t align with his own expectations.

ALISTER: Where are you going? This is your responsibility. You can’t just walk away! The Lombaxes need us! Don’t walk away from me! I said stop!

ORVUS: But like any father, my only wish is that my son does that which makes him feel whole […] So should the Clock be too small for your plans, I pray the cosmos light the way toward a future that you yourself design.

And of course, this iconic callback:

ALISTER: Sometimes the universe has a cruel sense of humor.

ORVUS: And remember, the universe has a wonderful sense of humor. The trick is learning how to take a joke!

Alister is tormented by his past decisions, so his idea of mentoring Ratchet is to prevent him from making the same mistakes he did. The massacre was when he lost all control, so he is desperate to control anything he can, including Ratchet. Life sucks and then you die. Orvus is literally like a time god or something, so he has none of that baggage. Maybe you could even argue for generational trauma here. As sad as I am that Alister had to Die In The Explosion I think it sends a clear message of who the better father was here. Orvus simply went missing forever but lives on through his recordings.

As for our titular heroes, Clank pretty clearly states that he considers Ratchet to be his family. Though it’s pretty sad how he implies that once Ratchet has found his “real” family, Clank can/will leave him?! :(

CLANK: I cannot stay. I am sorry, but discovering my family has made me realize that I cannot leave Ratchet. Not until he finds his own. I hope you understand.

Either way, it makes for the best ending scene to any RaC game since the very first one. It gets me every time. I hate writing conclusions so I don’t really have anything to wrap this up with sorry… um sparkle on and don’t forget to be yourself!!!

#mine #ratchet and clank #a crack in time #alister azimuth #whatever man.#mainly just tagging so i can find this post later

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tookishcombeferre · 8 months

Text

Happy 8th Birthday Undertale!

It’s hard to believe Undertale turns 8 today!!

I’m going to be posting more of my fic (2 chapters) today in celebration, but I wanted to post something a little more personal on my blog.

In Summer 2022, I gave birth to a squish. Bean is incredible. I adore them.

One day in late Fall/Winter of 2022/2023 we were going on an Amma/Bean outing to just see some more of the world. I decided to play the Undertale soundtrack because I was feeling nostalgic and it was a style of music Bean hadn’t heard yet.

When I say Bean imprinted on “Death by Glamour” I mean they imprinted on that song to the point that I was allowed listen to nothing else for 72+ hours straight. If I changed the song, they would straight up banshee scream until I put it back on.

Eventually, I showed Bean MTT’s boss battle and we listened to the Man on the Internet cover of the song as well. (This was the only variation I got in listening to the same song for almost a month.)

For Bean’s six month well check, Dada and I decided to get them a plush of Mettaton mostly as a joke. We figured we’d put it in a keepsake box to give to them after they graduated high school.

Nope. They imprinted on it! Ton-ton had to go everywhere. This was to the point we felt the need to get them a second one for their birthday in case Ton-ton the original got lost or came unstuffed.

I’ve found my Bean’s bond with MTT to be kind of interesting. I’m the primary “stay at home” caregiver to Bean, but I’m an actor and writer on the side. I’m also a relatively femme-looking transmasc person. So, sometimes, seeing them holding, cuddling, and just now starting to talk to MTT like a best friend makes me kind of emotional. I see their empathy for people who are different. I see the kind of love that I’m fostering in them for my community. I have hope for the way Bean will accept me in their easy acceptance of the “KISS Doll” as my parents call him.

I’ve just moved back about 5-10 minutes away from my family after a long time running all over the country and state. That, and I just came out to all of my family this year. There’s been some good moments in that and some very painful ones.

Dada (my spouse) and I started playing Undertale around Spring of 2023. My spouse hasn’t really played the game in any significant way, but we started with True Pacifist because life is too sad to do anything else. We’re only just getting into Waterfall because, as new parents, we don’t have a lot of free time.

But, I’m looking forward to meeting Mettaton again. Because, as weird as it sounds, I feel like I owe him an apology.

When I first played the game, I wanted to kill Mettaton … so badly. I hated him because, in a way, he reminded me of me. So, I figured killing him would feel like killing the part of me that I hated. I knew I couldn’t really do anything to myself without hurting the people I loved in ways I didn’t want to - I might have been self-centered at times, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t just leave. But, I was playing with my friend at the time and she was very adamant about playing True Pacifist and nothing else. (I also managed to get a spoiler about what happens to Alphys if you kill Mettaton and that really put me off it because Alphys was my favorite.)

But, in many ways, I hated Mettaton in the ways I hated myself. He was merely a stand in for me.

I “ran away” from home and changed my identity.

I upset my family.

I could be over dramatic.

I had my manic moments.

I wanted fame in my writing and my performance, and I wasn’t shy (or all that humble) about sharing my big dreams (or my talents there in).

So, I look forward to meeting him again because I owe that trans masc robot an apology for hating him so much.

For, through the eyes of my child, (through no expectation or conscious thought of Bean’s own) I’ve learned to love myself all because of a silly techno song and an Etsy plush.

But, it all started with a lovely little game 8 years ago. So, thanks Toby Fox. Happy Birthday Undertale.

#undertale #8th anniversary #mettaton #trans pride #transmasc #nonbinary #pip does life #pip parents a bean #parenting #kids are great

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no1frogfan · 1 year

Text

Desire lines, part 4

Kuroo x afab reader

Series synopsis: Against his wishes, Kuroo must hire a personal assistant. You’re not exactly the right person for the job, but it’s a job, and you need the money. Inspired by Robert Macfarlane’s definition of desire lines in landscapes: “paths and tracks made over time by the wishes and feet of walkers, especially those paths that run contrary to design or planning.”

Chapter word count: ~2.2k

Chapter tags & warnings: none afaik

Series masterlist part 3 | part 5 (wip)

4. Deer trail

When Monday rolls around, it feels like you’ve been shoved across an invisible threshold. On Friday, people were normal, even relaxed, but today, they’re running around like headless chickens. You barely dodge someone careening around a corner. It’s as if everyone has only now realized the big meeting is two weeks away.

Kuroo notices your arrival through his open door. “Morning, do you have time to meet right now?”

You set your bag down straight away, fish out a notepad and pencil, and hurry into his office.

He’s dressed in a conservative two-piece today — medium gray with a subtle windowpane plaid on the jacket, a white button-down, and a coppery brown tie embroidered with giraffe silhouettes. He gestures vaguely toward you while he skims a packet of papers, “Sorry, give me a minute. Let me finish this before I forget what I’m doing.”

“Sure, no problem.”

You sit down and, with nothing else to do, take in the decor while you wait.

You’ve been in and out of this office countless times already, but only to drop things off on his desk, never wanting to linger or disrupt his focus. The massive wood and steel desk he sits behind is nowhere near as tidy as it was on your first day. It’s now covered in stacks of papers, file folders, an empty coffee cup, and what looks like rolled up posters. The clutter has even begun to overtake the small seating area in the corner of the office (that you’ve never seen him use). The glass coffee table there is piled high with papers. The bronze statuette that normally sits on it (a stylized pheasant or something) is instead laying on the cushion of the leather loveseat. Even the couch has papers strewn across it.

On either side of the wall behind him, built-in bookshelves hold a number of books and binders, some labeled, some not. From where you’re sitting now, you can make out a few of the labels (Finances, FIVB, Exhibition match 2022).

There are photos, too, that you take the time to examine. Even at this distance, you can tell they’re all of Kuroo with groups of people (his unruly hair is a dead giveaway). One photo is of maybe a dozen people with a short, elderly man, all wearing matching maroon and black track suits. There’s a bigger photo, this time with Kuroo in a suit standing among a huge group of men (in numbers and in stature), half in black and turquoise jerseys and half in white and gold. And finally, one from what looks like elementary school, a small Kuroo standing next to another boy, flanked on one side by a middle-aged man and on the other by an elderly couple.

Displayed in the remaining spaces are some knickknacks. There’s a maroon and black #1 jersey signed by a whole slew of people, what looks like a trophy shaped like a gaming controller, a white bottle vase with A&B embossed on the side, a realistic-looking figurine of some kind of feathered dinosaur, and a plain red clay kyusu teapot with a small chip in the handle.

They must be keepsakes, not that you have any idea what significance they might hold. You’ve yet to hear Kuroo speak about anything that’s not work-related. If you hadn’t met him through Iwa, you doubt you would’ve known a single thing about him, not even that he’d played volleyball.

Just when you’re starting to get antsy, Kuroo signs the papers with a small flourish and sets them aside.

“Sorry about that. We’re in crunch time to prepare for the FIVB meeting. The next two weeks are going to be pretty intense, so while we still have some time, I want to give you a quick run-down of the plan and what you’ll need to do to prepare for the meeting.”

He waits until you have your pencil ready before he continues, “FIVB is the Fédération Internationale de Volleyball. They’re the international governing body for volleyball, kind of like FIFA for soccer, or ITF for tennis.” You nod, though you’ve already read up a little on the organization. “They’re coming here to discuss the first phase of a series of projects I proposed a few months ago through JVA.”

Reaching back to his left, he slides out the binder marked FIVB and sets it down in front of you. “Here. You should look over the project proposals. You don’t need to memorize them or anything, just having a rough idea of the agenda will be helpful for taking notes.

“As I said, this will be our first in-person meeting with FIVB, and the first time anyone from FIVB has ever come to Japan, so it’s a huge deal. All the JVA execs will be there, but I’ll be leading most of the meeting. Because of that, we’ll hire an official interpreter so you can focus on taking notes and assisting me. That said, I’m sure your skills will still come in handy.

“Starting today, all our other projects will be on pause until the conclusion of the FIVB meeting. This means I’ll have more meetings than usual, but most of them will be with the exec team so you won’t be needed. Any questions so far?”

You shake your head. Kuroo continues with his efficient explanation and you make sure to note all of it down. With everything crystal clear, you retreat to your desk with the binder and leave Kuroo to his piles of paperwork.

You’re poring over the FIVB binder when the doorknob rattles next to you, causing you to start. You whip your head up to find a disheveled-looking man with blond-streaked hair jiggling the door to Kuroo’s office.

“Excuse me!” You blurt out in alarm, “Can I help you?” The FIVB documents aren’t that engaging. How had he gotten past you without you noticing?

He stares back at you. “Oh. You’re the new assistant.”

“I am. How can I help you?”

“We’re supposed to have lunch together today.” The man holds up a plastic take-out bag that’s close to bursting with food containers and drinks.

“With Kuroo?” You clarify, even though the answer is obvious.

He nods.

“I’m sorry, but he’s in a meeting right now.” You glance at the time. “He’s not supposed to be back for another hour.”

“Oh, ok.” He remains expressionless, but his shoulders slump. “Can you give this to him when he gets back?” He puts the bag on your desk along with a folded-up pair of what looks like black sweatpants. The pants have volleyballs screenprinted partway down the sides and some kind of logo (a stylized number 3 ending in a dot, all over a blue background).

“Of course. Can I get your name?”

“Kenma,” he responds before turning away.

Why is that name familiar?

He stands there, making no move to leave.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Kenma-san?”

“How’s he doing? Kuroo.”

“He’s…fine, I think? Busy.”

“Has he been eating?”

You blink, taken aback. “Um, I’m not— I don’t think I’ve seen him eating, but I assume he eats when I’m out on my lunch break.”

Kenma frowns. “Make sure he gets that then.”

As he heads to the elevator, you take in his rumpled sweatshirt (with that same number 3 logo on the front), his sweatpants tucked into calf-high white socks, and his slides, more than a little confused about that whole interaction.

Iwaizumi brought him up before, you recall now, but that doesn’t tell you anything about who Kenma is. Or why he wanted to know if Kuroo has been eating. It’s not like you’d know anyways. Kuroo’s always in the office with a cup of coffee by the time you arrive in the mornings, so he probably gets breakfast with his coffee and finishes it before you get in. He leaves work after you too, but you can’t imagine he stays that much longer.

You try to turn back to the FIVB documents, but your concentration keeps slipping. You just go with it, switching gears to the author interview you’ve been asked to translate. It’s a small project with a tight timeline, but you suppose you should be grateful that one of your connections scrounged this up for you. You want to do a good job, especially since this connection works for a large publishing company — this might be a foot in the door for bigger projects down the line.

You’re puzzling over how to translate one of the author’s responses when Kuroo finally returns from his meeting over an hour later.

“Someone dropped off lunch and some other things for you while you were out. I’ve put them on your desk. He said his name was Kenma-san.”

Kuroo’s expression morphs from confusion to guilt as he dashes into his office. You hear the sound of plastic rustling, and his hushed voice as he makes a phone call.

A few minutes later, he peeks his head out. “Hey. Um…have you had lunch yet?”

“Me? No. I was gonna take my lunch break now that you’re back.” He looks displeased at that, so you hurry to add, “But if you need me for something I can wait!”

“No! No. That’s not— I was actually wondering if…do you want to have lunch with me? Kenma and I were supposed to eat together, but he…and now I have two lunches, so…” He trails off awkwardly.

You agree, bemused by his uncharacteristic sheepishness.

It takes only moments to tidy up the seating area in his office and unpack the food. You’re glad you chose to wear pants today as you both lower yourselves to sit on the ground.

“Are you ok with katsudon?” Kuroo asks as you open the box he placed in front of you. “If not, you can have mine instead.”

You inhale deeply, the scent of fried pork hitting your nose. You’ve shoved a piece into your mouth before his question even registers.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, opening his own container.

“Is that grilled fish? It looks amazing.”

“Yeah. I always get this.”

You hum in response. Curiosity gets the better of you. “Kenma-san must be a close friend of yours? I remember Iwa asking about him.”

A look crosses his face. “My best friend. We grew up together.”

He doesn’t elaborate further and the two of you eat in relative silence. As he chews, his shoulders slowly unwind. By the time you’re both done with your food, he’s just staring at the wall opposite him, looking thoughtful and almost relaxed.

Kuroo sets his chopsticks down. “So…have you read through the FIVB files yet?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” You take a sip of iced tea. “I’m almost finished with the binder. All the projects sounds really exciting, especially the all-level summer camps for kids.”

“It’s funny you say that because the JVA execs don’t think they’re a good investment.”

“What?! But they sound like they’d be so fun! Plus, it’s totally worth it to give kids the opportunity to try out a new sport, even if they don’t end up playing long-term. I think the FIVB reps will see it that way too.”

He eyes you. “You think so?”

“Definitely.” You gesture around the room. “Is that what all this paperwork is for?”

“Some of it. Most of it’s boring administrative stuff and legal agreements,” he grumbles. “They’re taking way too much time.”

“Oh? How come?”

“They’re in English so it takes me longer to read through them.”

“I can summarize them for you in Japanese if that helps. You can always read the whole thing if you need more details.”

His expression sours. You suddenly realize you might have offended him by offering, or maybe he thinks you’re trying to overstep the boundaries of your agreement, or—

“That would…be great, actually.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Of course. Just tell me what you want me to look at and I’ll summarize and get them back to you ASAP.”

It’s another task to add to your list, but you’ll have more free time this week anyway, and you’d hate to see anyone so put out by something you can easily help with.

After the two of you tidy up, Kuroo immediately grabs a stack of papers and plunks it on your desk. “Are you sure this is ok?”

You grab the papers out from under him, making him squawk as he loses his balance. “Yes, Kuroo-san. Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered.”

He lets out a surprised cackle and thanks you before returning to his office.

At 4:30pm on the dot, Kuroo walks back out, briefcase in hand and suit jacket slung over one shoulder, and heads toward the elevator.

That’s another thing you can cross off the list of things you’d never seen Kuroo do until today: leave work before you.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst #kuroo tetsurou x reader #hq x reader #froggy scribbles

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ginneke · 4 months

Note

for the fanfic end of the year asks, number 3!

(Fanfic end of the year asks available here: link)

Oh, thank you for the ask! And there’s really one passage that stands out to me as a favourite of 2023, which hails from Corrigendum – the self-indulgent, entirely unnecessary third part of my series Keepsakes.

But first, as single lines go, it has to be this:

"Why," says Revali, his voice lifting in shrill distress, "do you never pay the slightest bit of attention to me?"

(from A Study In Patience. Part 2 coming soon!)

(…What, did you think it would be that line from the end of A Seed of Song chapter 4? While that is certainly a favourite line, it was technically my favourite line of 2022 – it was already written all the way back in Feb ‘22, even though it was another 16 months before you would see it.)

—

Anyway. Corrigendum. Chosen passage and a brief recap/rationale below, under a cut for length and for varying degrees of spoilers for, somehow, all three of Keepsakes, Pinesong, and Moonlight:

Keepsakes was originally a two-part meditation on the piece of cloth Revali tied to the Great Eagle Bow, which always remains on it no matter how many times you break it and have it rebuilt, and the following line of Harth’s in the first Keepsakes story, Memento: “Where things are kept, what they are kept with, that has a meaning.”

Memento and Lacuna were both set within the boundaries of canon, focusing on Link’s possession of the Great Eagle Bow and more than a small dose of headcanon about the Paraglider; Corrigendum, meanwhile, played on the famous amnesia plotline of @ghirahimbo’s Pinesong, with a little of my and @heleentje’s answer to the Alive!Champions scenario in our Moonlight series baked in: if there were stasis chambers in the Divine Beasts, just like how the Shrine of Resurrection was revealed to be part of a Divine Beast in the Champions’ Ballad DLC, then was it not possible that the revived Champions might suffer a similar level of memory loss as Link did: i.e., total?

That’s the context with which the following scene between Revali and Zelda needs to be read. (A small section relating to Zelda’s personal feelings of guilt and regret has been cut for length.)

There was one person she hadn't mentioned, of course. Revali wondered whether she would comment on it of her own accord, but she seemed willing to speak only of others. If he had to pry the words from her, so be it. "I cannot help but notice someone missing from your account, pri- Zelda," he said, correcting himself at the last second. It felt strange to address her without titles: a hundred years and his memory removed from such formality, and yet it still seemed like an overstep. Next to him, Zelda went very tense. "What do you mean?" Honestly. Must he spell it out for her? "You," he said, as though it should be obvious. To him it was: it seemed its own sort of hellishness, to have so many memories that nobody else shared. "How are you faring?" Her look of surprise – had he truly shown so little concern for her in the past, that she was taken aback by his questioning now? – faded into something more sombre. "I... cannot complain," she said at last, which seemed to be all she was willing to say on the subject. [...] Zelda inhaled a steadying breath. "...About Li–" Her words lodged like ice. Revali cut her off: "Don't." He couldn't bear to speak of Link. Not now. Perhaps not ever. Certainly not while he was so incapable of reconciling the words in his diary with the roiling confusion left in their wake. Even thinking of that knight brought a wave of weariness over him. Though Zelda had done nothing wrong, Revali no longer had any wish to continue the conversation.

Revali and Zelda come into this conversation from incredibly disparate positions, and they're on completely different pages. Firstly, Zelda has the advantage of memory, but in some ways Revali has a clearer view of what their relationship from 100 years ago was actually like, thanks to his diary (the contents of which are alluded to or outright paraphrased in the opening part of this scene). Secondly, Zelda has full knowledge of what happened to Link -- at least up until he disappeared after the thought of re-boarding Vah Ruta (as Zelda wanted to do in the 'true ending' of BOTW) proved too much for the Keepsakes version of Link. (Yes, Link’s disappearing act is another small nod to Pinesong.)

But Revali does not.

From Zelda’s point of view, Revali’s comment about ‘some[body] missing from [her] account’ sounds like a not-so-subtle dig at the missing Link. I actually tried to thread this idea through even in his narration: 'she seemed willing to speak only of others', is meant to tread that thin boundary line of which person he's actually talking about, Zelda or Link.

Her reaction is therefore wary: she wonders how much Revali now remembers, and how much of his comment is a continuation of his century-old dislike of Link. — After all, she wasn’t privy to the scene in Lacuna’s flashback; and despite that interlude, Revali and Link’s relationship didn’t change all as much as they might have hoped. (Or as much as Link wants to believe, by the end of Memento/Lacuna—the true backstory there was one of might-have-beens instead of let’s-do-betters.)

She’s surprised, then, by Revali’s question being not about Link, but about herself. And this is something that I would have loved to delve into a little, but the nature of the story kept me bound tightly to Revali’s perspective: Zelda is doing well only in that she’s throwing herself into distractions, trying to adjust to the circumstances of being a hundred years displaced from the world she’s familiar with.

(Sidenote: I toyed with that dichotomy of the post-Calamity world being utterly uncanny to her – at once familiar and yet also somehow alien – in another story I wrote this year, catharsis, which had Zelda finally reuniting with Impa after a century.)

And she has ample distractions with the other Champions, who – as her recounting of events implies – she’s spent rather a lot of time around, and considerably more time than she has with Revali. She wouldn’t even be at Rito Village now if it wasn’t the home of Kass, the only person she thought might be able to find Link.

Perhaps, if she had taken a little more care to visit him, Zelda would be aware of the narrative Revali has been constructing, piece by piece, while he’s been left to fend for himself…

To an extent, Revali's own diary was held against him. His words are taken as a primary source of insight into his character, rather than at least part of his writing being a continuation of his attempts to define and shape his future legacy (his 'legend', as the diary's forepage none-too-subtly declares).

Yes, Harth did come to the conclusion of something existing between the Rito and Hylian Champions of a century ago (incidentally, that's why he makes the offer of showing Revali the same sheaf of papers he shared with Link in Memento – providing an alternative source of information), but Teba has a different focus. Harth is interested in the truth of the story; Teba is protective of the people involved, and with only circumstantial evidence to suggest that Champion Revali had at least some positive feeling towards that knight, and significantly more evidence to suggest Revali didn't care at all for Link, he deflects and puts it off for now.

Nobody expected Link to be AWOL for months.

And that brings us back to this passage, the first real opportunity for the truth to come out; and so Zelda takes the initiative, trying to bring up Link. 'If you want to know how we're all doing,' she's thinking, 'then I should tell you about him as well.'

But Revali is of the belief – entirely logically, based on the facts he knows! – that Link is long dead. Whether 100 years ago, or at some point in the decades since. Hylian lifespans just aren't long enough for him to still be around. We only need to look at the oldest Hylians living in Hateno, who weren't born until after the Calamity during the Era of Burning Fields, to know that 80-90 seems to be the Hylian limit.

—

Here's another thing: In the time since writing Corrigendum, I saw a post here on tumblr suggest that grief is a topic that's fairly impossible to write about, because grief doesn't end as long as you remember it, and it's the sort of thing that hits you, over and over, in often mundane ways that look bizarre to the outsider. Yet -- not to put too high a declaration of quality on my writing, but I honestly do believe that I achieved that in Corrigendum, while staying true to the character in question.

Yes, it was deliberately under-written, circled around instead of facing it head-on -- even the early use of the word 'grief' was shied away from, declaring it only 'something like grief'. That felt far more 'Revali' than giving in to sentiment. So far, most of this emotion has been in the gaps where he's confronted with knowledge of the past, of something missing, of something more to Link; he's seeing Link better in this patchwork recollection, able at last to look beyond '[the] sword that drew the eye and distracted from the man that bore it'. And it's in these moments that his true feelings linger, even if he can't (or won't) give voice to them.

—

Link has always been a touchy subject. Once, they might have been on a similar page regarding that (their mutual complicated feelings about a boy around their age to whom things seemed to come so easily).

In reality, they still are — and it's a different page to the one they shared before, of resentment and frustration and trying to figure out their own place. Link has long become a person to them—Zelda openly, as seen throughout the original game; Revali less obviously, but still apparent through his post-Blight dialogue and particularly in the DLC content, as well as the additional background and memory/ies I created for Memento/Lacuna.

But this Revali – a Revali who still has only a partial sense of his own identity, who doesn't necessarily like the person he'd been even if he can't figure out who else he could be – this version of Revali can't yet acknowledge or confront the truth of what he's experiencing.

What I wanted was to challenge Revali to say it out loud and admit to it — "I am grieving." This, here, is the closest Revali can currently get... Ice. Roiling confusion. Something unbearable. Weariness. Within his narration, the raw, aching wound of grief is clear, but aloud, the only thing he can think to do is to cut Zelda off and prevent her from saying what he cannot yet confront.

"Don't." Don't bring him up. Don't make me hear this. Don't make it real.

Characters frantically back-scrabbling away from open and frank communication, in the interests of protecting their own fragile hearts, is something that can be so delightful.

—

Zelda, who isn't privy to the struggle Revali is going through, can only hear this rejection at face-value and back off, assuming that things are as they were 100 years ago. This is something that can only be repaired by finding Link himself – and so she'll continue with her original plan, enlisting Kass to help track the wayward swordsman down.

(And Revali will finally give voice to what he's been feeling… when a certain someone arrives in Rito Village :3 )

#fanfic asks #fanfic ask meme #fic series: keepsakes #fic: corrigendum #ginnefic #(about) my writing #an anon appears #thank you for the ask!

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