#first person point of view

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier (No relation to the AU of the same name)

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[canisalbus]

I found your art like right before you started featuring Vasco more prominently in the lore, and seeing the focus shift from "This sad wet cat of a dog man priest is doomed by the narrative" to "this sad wet cat of a dog man priest has a sunshiny gay lover who is his world" has been a fun trip lol

.

[v4visms]

[anxiously-sidequesting]

how about you shut the fuck up Mr. Irresponsible

[luimagines]

SKYLNK Rebooting Up

Another Commission!

They asked for more Android au. They wanted Skydroid but uh- I went with origin story instead. :D

Enjoy.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"Testing one two three, Skydroid is now live and active."

The droid blinked open its eyes and looked around its immediate surroundings.

"Perfect, you're online!" I cried and clapped my hands excitedly. "Good morning."

The droid sits up.

"Good to see the core gears and suspensions are working just fine."

"Hello Master, is there a name you wish to register me by?" The SKYLNK model tilted its head innocently and I shook my head. 

"I'm not your master, I'm just The Doctor. I apologize for the inconvenience. For now, you'll be simply called Sky until we can send you over to your actual master and they can decide to keep or change your name, ok?" I smile. "I hope you're feeling alright. There are a few simple tests that I want to run by you before we can get into anything more physical and complex. Do you mind touching your fingers to your thumbs and wiggling your toes for me?"

SKYLNK model blinks and does as was told, matching my movements with my fingers and moving his toes.

"Perfect. I just want you to move your head around like this- awesome! Perfect. A lot of this is just checking if your motor controls are still intact and if there's anything that may need recalibrating or fine tuning but it appears to be in working order."

"The physical stuff was fine, it was just his motherboard and coding, you said so." Wild, my CALLNK model, reminds me from the background.

"But that was when we first got him. We need to make sure that there's nothing rusted or out of pace in the times when we moved him..." I pout. I turn to the SKYLNK model again and hold out a hand. "Can you stand?"

The newly awakened LNKdroid takes my hand and gets off of the table. The towel around his waist falls a bit, pooling by his hips but he doesn't notice. I look the other way out of politeness.

My repurposed TWILNK droid comes in and pins the towel for propriety's sake.

"We just need to test some walking cycles and get some more movement out of you. Then it's a few more questions and we can take a break." I explained. 

"Because someone hasn't had breakfast yet." My TWILNK model scolds me from the side.

"We're this close to being done! How can I think of eating at a time this exciting!" I reply and help the Skydroid get used to his weight and height once more. He's holding his balance incredibly well and within moments he can walk in a clear circle without help.

"Darlin’, please eat." TWILNK sighs.

"Soon, you worry wart." I wave him off.

"Perfect SKY! Can you go sit once more on the table? We're not done testing you but you would need a quick debriefing of your purpose and mission, ok?" I point to the examination table and watch as he does as he's told, moving with calculated ease and precision.

"Alright, you're in better shape than I thought." I comment and jump in place again. "Ok, here's the thing. You're going to a friend of mine to help out. They already have a WNKLNK200 model, real retro, but he's getting on in years and can't help out as much any more. He's constantly needing tending to and replacements. Not to mention he can't even reach the top shelf. His name is Wind. An adorable kid but he needs to retire from his duties at some point. That being said, and as much we'd like to keep him around, he needs to take on less responsibility. Your job is to keep the house clean, make sure your new owner eats as they should and helping them wherever possible, including making sure they take their meds on time."

"And maybe get them to sleep at a decent time too." Wild pipes up, his arm twitching a bit unnaturally before it swings back into place.. "Wind's programming makes him go to sleep earlier so they're always up at the witching hour despite the fact that they're human."

"Sounds familiar." TWILNK grumbles.

I gape and pout at the larger android. I swear he’s got so much attitude for a heavy duty model. "I'm not that bad."

Neither Wild nor TWILNK have much to say on that front but I can tell what’s firing off their synopsis. Honestly, sometimes their facial expressions give more away than they have any right too. I rolled my eyes. “Regardless, knowing this off the bat would be better in the long run but anything is easier to learn once you're there. Sounds good?" 

Sky nods. "Noted. Make sure they maintain a healthy diet with a clean living space and keep a close eye on their sleeping habits."

"More or less. I know you'll adapt as you're there but for a warning, they'll fight for a bit regarding this. They're stubborn but their heart is in the right place." I cross my arms. "If you can somehow get them to spend more time outside as well it would be phenomenal but it's not mandatory. Some sunlight wouldn't kill them...."

"Mistress..." Wild snickers from the sidelines. "You're inside just as much as they are."

"Not willingly! All my work is here! If I had an outdoor spot to do my work, it would be the greatest thing but as it stands I have no space to do that. Besides, what if it all got wet or something? I work with heavy machinery and computer parts." I sighed. 

Wild doesn't look away and instead crosses his arms.

His silence is deafening. I pout harder. "I know you're right but I don't like it."

He smirks.

TWILNK says nothing.

I stick my tongue out at Wild and turn back to Sky. "That being said, I'm hungry. Feel free to explore the house and get used to moving again. In an hour, we can see your performance regarding your mission. We still need to test your default databases and your problem solving skills before we can send you over to my friend. But I think all the major tuning is done so we can also get you some clothes finally. Wild?"

Wild nods and moves to go get the outfit we have prepared for him and I gesture for Sky to follow him. "He will give you your clothes. I doubt that I'll need to look at any more panels or your hardware so we should be good to go. And you can have a little more dignity for all of this so that's a bonus."

Sky nods as well and goes after the other droid. His movements are still janky. They can hardly be called robotic. Major components might need more oiling but there doesn’t seem to be any more major issues that would need to be dealt with in the meantime. He’s on the recovery road and will be in working order in no time.

Once alone, I grin and run to TWILNK, having to jump to properly wrap my arms around his neck. "I don't know how you did it but your coding is incredible. Way better than anything I've had to do on my own! This would usually take another two weeks but if it all goes well we can be done by the end of tomorrow!"

I hop down and rub my hands together. "I owe you one. Whatever you want in your room just name it and I'll get it for you ok? As a treat. Oh my god, I’m so excited to give Sky to them. They’re going to be so mad at me. Man, I can't wait to see their reaction!"

TWILNK smiles in that somewhat quiet way of his and turns around. "Can I pick up the mess around the place now?"

"No! I told you, the mess is for Sky to clean. We need to check his programing still and the end result of his own protocol. Keeping Wild from cleaning all this up was bad enough but you are one stubborn man!" I huff and cross my arms. "Don't hate on my process. I swear there's a method to my madness."

TWILNK groans and stretches his arm out. "I'm a household droid too! I hate seeing messes when I can do something about it. Are you sure you can't test this later? Don't you want to live in a clean house?"

"It will be clean, eventually. Even sooner than we think if Sky does a good job." I grin. "And if you programmed him, I'm sure he'll be just fine. And then we give him to his new home and you can clean to your little heart's content, yeah?"

"Mistress-"

"Oh! Before I forget, speaking of my friend they mentioned that Wind's arm is getting a bit squeaky and stiff. That can mean one of two things but I'll need my tools to get the source. I gotta go get those and put them where I can see them or else I'll forget to bring them. If I forget and get there, Wind is gonna have to deal with potentially losing his arm and that just won't do. It'll break their little human heart to see their childhood droid disassembled."

"Mistress, the food." TWILNK groans, putting his face in his hands.

"I'll eat in a minute, let me just do this real quick!" I nearly tripped up the stairs as I scrambled about.

TWILNK groans and watches as Wild and Sky return, the new droid now fully dressed and looking as you would see any other droid.

TWILNK didn't really know what to think of this new guy other than he truly got to see his new mistress in her environment. His last mistress was hardly ever that focused and hard pressed for perfection.

It was sweet, the way this new one fussed over the new droid and made sure that things would have been comfortable despite the android not being able to feel pain the same way humans did... or even discomfort- not to mention that this Sky wasn't even awake to experience any of it.

She looked so happy.

TWILNK looked down at his hands as Wild began to run Sky through the mess that was found in the room. Vaguely, he could register that Wild was explaining what was considered trash and what was considered a tool or something to be used for later. But he couldn’t focus on that. His mistress had even hugged him- tightly.

She complimented him on his work.

The idea made Twilight feel... foreign, like he no longer fit into his own skin and he wasn't sure what he was going to do about it. Or if there was anything to be done.

Again- he was noticing more differences in this mistress than in the last one.

Part of him wanted to ask the young woman about it to see if there was something wrong with his programming or his biocomponents. Granted, she mentioned that programming wasn't her forte, and if there was something wrong with him then there would no doubt be something wrong with Sky and then it would mean that he would have failed his job and as a faulty droid that would mean his mistress would have no reason to keep him.

And he would be abandoned and alone again.

Wild came over and put a hand on his shoulder, watching Sky walk around the place, looking at his reflection and the tools and nicknacks his ever tinkering mistress had around her humble home, gaining information as he went. "He'll be just fine, I think. All his biocomponents were in tip top shape when Mistress found him and even then, there's only so much to do with a blank slate. This friend of hers is practically getting a brand new droid for free. Lucky them."

"What if-" TWILNK started, not wanting to give away the way his thoughts were deviating. "-something's wrong with him?"

Their friend would probably ask our mistress to check it out and then she would try to fix it. If neither of them can figure it out, they can hire a true professional at Hylia.Inc and get their recommendation or support or supplies for whatever might be faulty. Or- and this is the more likely version- they both just let him be and keep him as he is."

"How can you be so sure?" TWILNK twiddled his fingers in a reminiscent version of human nervousness. 

"Well I'm here, aren't I?" Wild laughed, gesturing to his marred skin grafting, twitching once more as if on cue to prove his point. "I had missing biocomponents. I had exposed wires. I had vented or straight up irreparable paneling. I was barely functioning when Mistress found me and we both know there's still some faulty coding somewhere but she likes me the way I am. Horrible homemade skin grafting and all. She doesn't want to change me and she got used to it. Her friend keeps their Wind around for sentimental reasons. That WNKLNK was originally meant to help them as a child but humans grow and her friend technically no longer needs him. But he's still around because he’s loved and the humans want to keep him around, even if he's almost falling apart at the seams with how old he is. Our mistress tries really hard to keep him functioning as he should have been as if he was new. She does good work. Sky is in good hands regardless."

"Ok, ok, ok-" I came back, running down the stairs with a small black bag with clinging metal inside. TWILNK recognized the bag. It was my travel tool bag that I always had with me when I went on home visits to check on other droids. "I have my tools, I have my notes, I have my phone and my wallet. I-"

"Haven't eaten yet, ma’am." TWILNK finished, trying to keep his voice neutral. He can’t have any reason for anyone to think that he’s been deviating. He doesn’t want to be left out.

His words startled me as if I forgot he was there and his expression dropped a bit. It broke TWILNK’s mechanical heart.

"But you usually call me-... never mind. Yeah, I'll eat. What's for breakfast Wildcat?" I cleared my throat and tried to smile, looking over at him completely with a scrutinizing look on her face. She looked 

The action caused him to freeze, his biocomponents going cold.

TWILNK didn't get it, it was what he was supposed to call her. What was he doing wrong? And how can he keep himself from being sent out again? He didn't want to lose this new home.

I hummed and nodded, not knowing his internal struggles of accepting his place in my home. Wild patted his head for a moment before tilting it to the side. “I made bacon and waffles. I left it on the back burner to keep it warm for you.”

I smiled and dropped my bag of tools onto the floor. “Thank you, lovely. I’ll go get it. Will you show Mr. Sky around the protocols and tests I had pla-”

I look around my workshop again and deflate slightly. It was already cleaner by a long shot. Sky was still picking up little smaller pieces of trash as I spoke. “Oh… I see you already started him on that.”

Wild struck out his hand before angling it behind his head. “Was I not supposed to, Mistress?”

I shook my head. “I was planning to do that later but there’s no harm in getting him already started.”

I bit my lip and looked back at my TWILNKdroid. I really needed to give him a proper name. He deserves just as much. But might have to happen later. “Do you think you can show him how to do some handy work around the house? There’s that faulty sink in the bathroom and a lightbulb or two that need changing.”

TWILNK stands straighter in attention. “Why didn’t you mention something sooner? I could have already taken care of it!”

I smile softly. His conversational skills have improved greatly since he came here. Other “normal” droids would have simply given a yes or no reply and got straight to work. I give him a cheeky grin and put my fist on my hip. “I kept it a secret~ We have a guest in our home that needs to learn how to do this before he can be released into the wild.”

Wild snickers into a very robotic replication of a laugh when I do not mention his name. It’s almost endearing that he’s trying.

TWILNK huffs and crosses his arms. “I will do as you say.”

I wink at him. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“Grumpus.”

“Mistress-”

I feel like I got struck. Maybe I’ve been pushing too many of his buttons, figuratively and metaphorically speaking. He’s never called me that before but he’s called me that twice already. I know that he used to have another mistress but he never speaks of her. I don’t know what it means to be called that but I’m not entirely sure that I like it.

“Call me by my name or by nothing else.” I bite my tongue to keep my tone in check. I don’t need my droids to learn from my example. I don’t like my order voice but all three androids in the room register it as the command that it is. “Sky, there are some more chores waiting for you once you’re done with this assignment.”

The other droid looks up in a fluidly smooth motion. It’s smack dab in the middle of an uncanny valley. “Understood.”

Wild recovers the fastest and puts a hand on my shoulder. I pat it, but quickly remove it from my body. “I’ll go eat. You’ve improved your cooking a lot. It’ll be a shame if I let it go to waste. Besides… I’m the only one who can eat it anyway.”

I smile weakly and scramble back upstairs, not entirely sure why I felt as weird as I did. And it was entirely the fault of that TWILNKdroid. I didn’t know what to do with him and it was driving me crazy. I had no reason to take him in. But what was I supposed to do? Leave him where he was, dirty and torn and alone? 

My very job is to repair and rehouse androids! 

I couldn’t do that.

Not to mention that as much as I loved my passion project, Wild, the CALLNK model was beyond repair in a lot of senses. He couldn’t be fully trusted to be left alone in the house just on the off case something gets lit on fire. 

Granted, he does it a lot less now that he’s focused more of his attention on cooking and miscellaneous craft projects that I’ve been supplying him with. But I don’t think the problem is solved just yet.

And then there was TWILNK who was a nice addition. I always wanted a model like him but I could never bring myself to make that sort of purchase for myself. When I found him in disarray and on the verge of shutting down, I considered it my lucky day and brought him home with me. I briefly considered calling his previous owner since he was clearly left alone but when I considered the state I found him in, I figured that whoever it was, they weren’t coming back.

Then! I mentioned about rehousing a different droid I had with me at the time to Wild and TWILNK all but shut down again. The poor android went up and down the house trying to find everything and anything he could fix in an attempt to earn his keep to stay here. So now I really couldn’t think about giving him away when I could see that it bothered him.

I took a deep breath and found the food that was prepared for me by Wild. It’ll distract me enough that I could forget about that strange reaction I got from the droids.

I was tempted to question my life choices that brought such broken, anxious and confusing androids- but I’m aware that I brought it upon myself.

I ate in silence.

By the time I was putting the plate in the sink I could hear footsteps coming up to the top of the house. TWILNK and ‘Sky’ were making their way up. TWILNK gestured for the new droid to follow him through the house to where the new light bulbs were kept so he could begin with his basic house up-keep lessons.

Admittedly, it made me smile that the three of them took such simple chores so seriously. 

Then again, that was the sole purpose of their existence and the very basis of their programming.

“Should I get started on the dishes?” Wild comes up as well and stands next to the sink. 

I shake my head. “I’ll get to it later. Don’t bother. It’s not like it’s hurting anyone.”

He makes a face and crosses his arms. “If neither of us do, your TWILNK model will.”

I sigh and mimic his position. “Then tell him not to.”

“You think he listens to me?”

“Well he certainly doesn’t listen to me.” I deadpan only for Wild to mimic my same expression. I doubt we’re on the same wavelength but he’s already learned so many of my mannerisms that I feel like I can read him like an open book.

Or maybe it’s the other way around.

“Are there other chores that need doing?” TWILNK comes around the corner.

I turn from my confrontational stance but keep my arms over my chest. I still don’t know what to feel when he calls me Mistress. It could either mean that he sees me as his new owner or he was just trying to get on my nerves. He certainly succeeded in the latter.

What can I say? I got used to him calling me ‘Darlin’’ in that farm boy charm of his.

I take another deep breath, meeting the larger droid head on. “Do you plan to do them yourself or are you asking for the sake of the SKYLNKdroid?”

He doesn’t answer me for a while and I all but fold in half. “You-! No! You don’t work!”

“But- my purpose-”

“This isn’t about your purpose. It’s about mine.” I blurt out before clearing my throat roughly. “I mean it’s about his. The SKYLNK’s purpose. He has to relearn everything from scratch so we need to give him the basics even though somebody has been keeping this house in tip top shape that I don’t think I have enough training activities for him to recalibrate himself.”

I give him a pointed look.

And he didn’t even have the nerve to look apologetic.

“It’s in my programming.”

I groaned. “Wild?”

“Yes?”

“Go nuts.”

TWILNK’s eyes widened as the scarred android cheered, running through the house with ‘wild’ abandon. 

“You can’t do that! He could destroy the place!”

“I need to have Sky trained.” I pointed out. “If we’re lucky, he only sticks to the kitchen and teases my friend until they comply with actually taking care of themselves but there is no way I can account for anything. Wind isn’t as destructive as Wild, thankfully, but we can put Sky to work and get this place fixed up.”

I shake my head. “Let me take a shower. I have more work to do.”

TWILNK reaches out and grabs me by the arm. I tense for a moment, immediately reminding myself of his supernatural strength even for an android. But he’s very gentle in his hold.

There’s a thought on the tip of his tongue. It shows plain as day on his face but he won’t say it.

“Speak.” I use my commanding voice again. It makes me flinch afterwards. Again.

“Then… what do I do?” He says after fighting the compulsion to not answer me. 

I let that process in my own mind. His reactions have been getting more and more human-like. I wonder if he’s aware of it. I shrug. “You can do anything you want to do. You can even help Sky if that’ll keep you from idly twiddling your thumbs. But you cannot do them for him. He has to learn.”

Glass shatters in the background.

Wild cheers

I try to keep the grimace off of my face. I have to trust my own process. There’s a method to my madness. There’s a method to my madness.

TWILNK also winces and sighs. I know I didn’t teach him that one.

Makes me wonder who exactly he was with before I came across him and fixed him up enough to be in working condition again. 

“Twilight.”

He turns his attention back to me and tilts his head.

I smile and pat his hand. “I think I’ll call you Twilight. Your model name is a mouthful and you’ve been here long enough.”

‘Twilight’ stares at me. I can hear his fans being put to work as his processors begin to work overtime to make sense of my words. I take his hand off of me. I register that he lets me do that. I pat his cheek and bring my commanding voice. “New Name Registry. Enter: Twilight. Belonging to the house on Creek Circle.”

“...A name.” He whispers.

Interesting, but I don’t can’t question his words before I hear something wooden snap in half. I don’t own many wooden things.

“Can you please check on what that was before Wild breaks any more of my belongings?” I ask him sweetly.

With a new mission in mind, he nods and makes his way over in the direction of the sound and it doesn’t take long before I can hear both Wild and ‘Twilight’ begin to wrestle each other.

I shake my head, tracking my way to find my newest guest and resident of the house. “Sky?”

I find the droid staring at the photos I have of the many androids that have come into my house. They line the wall with various attempts at human expression of happiness. Some more clever bots have their arm around my shoulders in some of them and others give a thumbs up. 

Wind is there too with his paneling open in his head as I worked inside. He is the only one with the learned capacity to make a silly face at the camera. Tongue out and all.

“I help them.” I explained. “Some of them have been brought to me from their owners to be fixed while others were brought in from the streets, the thrift shops or the dump to be given a new chance to live their purpose to the fullest.”

“And whEre was I foUnd?” ‘Sky’ looks at me expectantly.

I hum and tilt his chin gently. “I guess I still have a bit more work to do on your voice box.”

I hesitate to answer his question but it’s never paid to hide information from them in the long run. I feel more comfortable telling the repurposed droids about their history more so than the people who buy them off of me. “I found you by the recycling plant. Your motherboard was fried but I got you a new one.”

“Am I to be sold?” He asks next.

“No.” I put my hands on my hips. I hear my other boys knock into a bookshelf in the other room. “Like I said, I plan to give you to a friend. They need the help even if they don’t want to admit it. I think some new company would do them some good.”

He looks back to the photos. I grin and point out the one with Wind, one of the few child droids on my wall. “He’s in the same house I’m sending you in. His name is Wind and he is very special. I’m sure he’s going to want to include you in all the human interactions he’s learned over the last fifteen years.”

“Models are made obsolete once the new generation has come onto the market.” Sky tilts his head with some difficulty. “He is still functioning?”

“Very much so.” I proudly put my hands on his hips, noting the small ways his movements are hindered. Nothing to scoff at though. Easy fixes so far. “And I’ll proudly take credit for that. Even though it’s getting harder and harder to find compatible parts to keep him functioning. I fear that he doesn’t have that long left.”

“I am his replacement.”

“Don’t ever say that.” I nearly growl. The commotion in the other room stops. “He means too much to all of us. He is his own and there is no one that is going to fill the hole he’ll leave behind when there is nothing I can do anymore to keep him functioning.”

Silence follows for a moment.

“But I will admit…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know how long he has left… And I don’t want my friend to be alone while they mourn. They… will need all the support they can get when that happens. I hope that having another in the house will lessen the fallout.”

Sky takes a moment like Twilight did earlier. I also hear his fans kick up as his processors are sent into overdrive. “...Emotional support… I.. am not equipped.”

“You will learn.” I say, calming myself down. “That’s why I’m sending you before any of that happens. You will know what to do when the moment arrives.”

Wild hesitantly pokes his head from around the doorframe. “...I uh… broke a few things.”

I facepalm- shattering the tension in an instant. “I know. I heard. I could figure it out. What did you break?”

“...A glass… and your bed.”

“What the-”

[iamfuckingsorry]

Thinking about that mural from DE

You know which one

TRUE LOVE IS POSSIBLE ONLY IN THE NEXT WORLD, FOR THE NEW PEOPLE. IT IS TOO LATE FOR US. WREAK HAVOC ON THE MIDDLE CLASS

The next world mural. In the game, you encounter this piece very early on if you interact with everything available, you probably see this mural before you've ever even heard of Dora or before you've started to get really serious about your commie tendencies, if that's how you choose to play. And the reaction is like, "wow, this is kinda profound actually". Or maybe it's like, "oh lol, this game really is commie af isn't it" (even though later on it turns out that the game is much more critical of communism than you'd think at first). And the story in the ledger provides some insight into Harry and Jean and how they work together too, so it feels like it makes sense, it fits in very well at that moment in the game and that's it.

But looking back at this mural after you've played through the entire game, knowing what you know of Harry's relationship with Dora...

It's Harry's own fucking love story in a way, isn't it?

Him and Dora came from very different backgrounds. He's genuinely poor, grew up checking the trash cans on the streets for tare and edible food, spent his teenage years running around with a bunch of kids who all OD'd or got themselves killed one way or another over the years. He had dreams of getting an education, getting a chance to use his creativity and curiosity and learn about all that that is worth exploring in this world (which is everything), but those dreams are long dead. She's solidly middle class, with access to all the education and art and music he's always dreamt of, with her family to always fall back on. She's everything Harry's ever dreamt of growing up. She might as well be living in another world.

They fall in love with each other and she moves to Jamrock to live with him. Jamrock, the biggest fucking ghetto in Revachol, full of tweakers and gangsters and just thousands upon thousands of poor people permanently down on their luck trying to get by, with no proper aid or government and a police station so understaffed and underfunded they never even stood a chance. And they can barely make ends meet even living in Jamrock, moving from shithole to shithole, never knowing when they'll have their electricity cut, when something will happen that gets them thrown out, desperately scrambling for a new place to stay. And Dora could never do that, not really - she never actually lived in Jamrock, she always had the possibility of leaving, of going to work across the river and visiting her parents whenever she felt like it or just escaping, packing her shit and getting on the tram and never going back. And as long as she knew she wasn't really, truly stuck in this miserable shithole forever, she wasn't ever really living in Jamrock. And it could never be enough for her.

And she wanted more - for herself, for Harry, for their family, who even knows. Maybe she saw Harry struggling trying and failing to make a difference as a gym teacher and thought he could do more good with the RCM. Maybe she was getting desperate, living in this fucking shithole, and thought they needed more money. Maybe it was something completely else - but what is certain is that Harry ended up joining the RCM, and the 41st, and everyone there is on speed, everyone is miserable and desperate and always running behind playing catch up with the case load, with the crimes, with the drug addicts and rapists and murderers, and Harry, who's always been like this close to a genuine mental breakdown, just fucking falls apart. He needs to help people, needs to make a difference, and working at the 41st, with the budget and case load and staffing situation and the pure fucking misery in the area. He goes out and meets a miserable person after a miserable person and he can't do anything else than be nice, make their day a little bit more manageable, do his best- but he knows that no matter what he does, his best won't be enough. He won't be able to make a dent in the pure fucking misery that is Jamrock. But he needs to, so he drinks, he smokes, he does drugs, he loses any semblance of control he ever had over the voices in his head, the dude telling him to hit shit and the dude telling him to forget everything and just get fucked up and Revachol herself screaming at him about her imminent death. And in the end Dora can't stand it anymore and she leaves (and, honestly, good for her. I'm happy for her. But this is about Harry, and Harry isn't, he isn't able to be happy for her at this point in time).

And like. I personally doubt that she'd have left just because of the money if everything else was good. I honestly even doubt that the money was that big of an issue for her to start with, it was all the other issues first and then the fact that they couldn't even rent a fucking VHS and play it at times became just one more thing on top of this already massive pile of shit that broke the proverbial camel's back. But in Harry's mind, he was never rich enough for her. She was always the middle class girl who settled for the poor fuck, and he was never gonna be good enough for her because he was just a broke dude from Jamrock. She was perfect and so so beautiful and at one point her love was the only thing keeping him going, and then she left because he couldn't even

And from what we can see in the game she was the only person he's ever really, truly loved.

But in his mind, they could never be together again. They could try as they might, but it was never gonna work out, because she was a rich girl and he was just a poor miserable fuck. He grew up looking for change on the streets, she took piano lessons in a fancy part of town. The difference was just too large to ever truly be bridged.

So for post-breakup Harry, prior to Martinaise and even during the events in Martinaise, true love was never actually possible. It is possible only for the new people, in the next world. It was too late for him - he had his chance, and it was an impossible thing, it could never have worked out and now he's wasted it. Because of the inherent differences between different social classes. It is too late for him. So yeah, fuck it, wreak havoc on the fucking middle class. Fuck those rich bastards who took Dora from him, and fuck Dora too.

On another note, this was also one of the most recent cases him and Jean worked on prior to Martinaise. I don't remember the date exactly, but it was in his last ledger, it must have been pretty recent. Do you think he saw the mural and thought about it the same way I did? Maybe this was the one that truly pushed him over the edge? The impossible love. It truly was too late for him. The only way to fix it is a new fucking start. And how do you get that?

After life - death. After death - life again.

[spectralarchers]

“This is 7-1, in the blind, how copy? Ghost, this is 7-1, how copy? Fuck... Where are you Ghost...?”

John “Soap” Mactavish - TF-141

ALONE - Las Almas, Mexico - 03 nov 2022 0000

Objective: Survive

[nostalgia-tblr]

Hey do yous want to see my favourite bit from the first Thor film? It's this bit:

What's going on here? Why would anyone be standing behind that big gold pillar for any reason other than to slink out from behind it? There's nothing there! Not even the sinister shadows that I suspect were supposed to be on that part of the set.

Oh ho ho, here we go, here we goooooo!!!

Oh yeah, I absolutely 100% trust whatever this lad's about to say. That's the least shifty approach I've ever seen in my life. He barely even skulked.

Listen to him, Thor! I don't care what he's saying to you, it's definitely good advice whatever it is. See how he's leaning towards you in a completely un-conspiratorial manner, speaking quietly because he knows you're a sensitive type who gets nervous around loud noises. This is really good advice. You can tell because he looks so earnest.

Oh and here come some witnesses! I mean your friends!

You can safely ignore whatever he's saying now though, Thor. He's obviously got a bit intimidated by the success that lies ahead when you carry out this amazing plan that you've just come up with all by yourself after he suggested it.

Oof, he's very against you doing that thing that you're about to do! He's sooooo disappointed with the way this is going. He's just said it's madness! In a loud, clear voice that should have carried across the room quite well.

I wonder if any of the witnesses overheard that part of the conversation?

Aye. Aye, they did :)

[youssefguedira]

Some prompt ideas for you!

Nicky and Quynh as best friends, doing some ritual or activity together that they used to do before, again after she escapes from the sea and is healing

Andy as a baby immortal, doing some dumb dangerous shit. Maybe she's doing it to help someone and it's an external pov a la your "I have seen angels in my time" series?

Joe and Lucia after he and Nicky go back to find her. Maybe he's tentative about whether she'll understand or accept them being in love, they have a serious conversation, and then it turns into her telling him embarrassing baby/teenager Nicky Stories?

Absolutely love your writing and your Lucia stories are currently some of my absolute favorites ❤️

hellooooo i know you sent this forever ago but i have been thinking about family and Them lately so. this is set a couple years after the end of if i ask you to stay wherein nicky and joe have returned to stay with lucia for a bit ! it's not quite joe being nervous about whether she'll accept them or not (she largely already has) but it DOES turn into embarassing teenage nicky stories so i hope you enjoy

"Yusuf, come help me with this," Lucia says.

It's become something of a ritual, and so Yusuf is now comfortable joining her at the counter as she splits the dough into two parts and passes one to him. Outside, Nicolò is herding the goats towards the hills and having only partial success; one of the kids splits off from the herd and starts charging back towards the house, making Nicolò curse loudly enough that they can hear him faintly through the window. Lucia chuckles.

"I am glad he will have you, you know," she says. She tosses a handful of flour over the counter and begins to knead the dough. Yusuf follows suit. "After."

They don't talk about after often, even if all three of them know. For the most part, Yusuf tries not to think about it, and he knows Nicolò does the same, though it haunts every single thing they do, a constant shadow. There are still nights where Nicolò barely speaks, overcome by it.

"Did he ever tell you why our father sent him to seminary?" she continues.

"Enough," Yusuf says.

Lucia hums. She's quiet for a while. Outside, Nicolò resorts to picking up the wayward kid and carrying it with him while he herds the rest; it busies itself chewing on his sleeve.

"I only ever wanted him to be happy," she says. "When he left for the seminary I had hoped that it would bring him some kind of peace, even if it was not what he chose. But then he decided to go to Jerusalem, and, well. He never did tell me why. And I did not think about it beyond the fact that it was taking him away, and that I would likely never see him again. He has not told me many details about what happened to him - to you both - there, but I understand enough. But even despite all of it, I am glad he found you in the end."

"I am too," Yusuf says quietly.

"He was always so..." She waves one hand in the air as if searching for the right word, scattering a light cloud of flour that shimmers in the morning sun. "Uncertain. But he seems so much more settled, around you." She smiles at him, and Yusuf cannot do anything but smile back.

There is not much more to be said, after that. Nicolò has put the kid down, and now it bounces after him, dancing around him in circles and almost tripping him up at least three times. It makes him curse again, but he's smiling too much for it to be convincing. It makes Yusuf smile, too. They finish kneading the do

"He spent almost all his time with them when he came to visit," Lucia says, nodding towards the window. "The kids loved him. He would sit down and let them climb all over him. They used to chew on his hair."

Yusuf can imagine it clearly: fifteen-year-old Nicolò, still growing, letting five or six baby goats clamber all over him.

"There was this one doe, though, who hated him," she continues. "She would let anyone else near, but not him. She used to bite at his heels every time he came near. She chased him up a tree, once. I found him halfway up. He'd forgotten that goats climb trees, too."

Yusuf laughs out loud, and it's at that moment that the door swings open, and Nicolò's voice echoes through the house. "No, no, piccola," he's saying, "you have to stay outside."

When he comes into the kitchen, he's holding the kid, who has given up on chewing his sleeve and is now trying to reach his hair, refusing to be deterred even though he keeps pushing her away. He's so caught up in this task that he doesn't notice them both watching him straight away, and when he does pauses like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. "What?" he asks, looking between them.

"Nothing," Lucia says before Yusuf can say anything. Nicolò looks between them again, before shaking his head and carrying the goat over to the table.

"New friend?" Yusuf asks him.

"She won't leave me alone," Nicolò says.

"Nicolò," Lucia says, "do you remember the name of that goat that chased you up the tree? I couldn't seem to recall."

Nicolò blinks, then sighs. "Tell me you didn't tell Yusuf that story."

"Not all of it," Yusuf says innocently.

Nicolò groans. Yusuf laughs, and so does Lucia.

The shadow is still there, yes. But even though he complains, for a moment Nicolò's shoulders seem more relaxed, and the sun seems just a little brighter.

[pompadourks]

The fandom needs to stop infantilizing Kieran or I’m gonna start taking names

[copepods]

i love suns and pebbles canon dynamic in my head its kind of weird and fucked up and i wish more people depicted it as that (tag ramble incoming)

[sodantics]

I need to repost my favourite Grian I've ever drawn here actually. Sand restock for the beloved season 7 barge

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[wilwheaton]

Hello Wil, hope you and yours are doing well. What do you think about fan fiction? Not if you’ve read any, but your thoughts on it as a concept. Good? Bad? Something else that cannot be quantified with just a single word?

I love fan fiction. Creative people tell their own stories in an existing universe with existing characters, and take them wherever their imagination goes. What's not to like?

[naquey]

Hello, Writers!

So, I have a question. Do you prefer the first—or third-person POV for romance, and do you prefer the first—or third-person POV for horror?

I've read a lot of romance books in the first person, and they aren't exactly my favorite because I feel like I don't get to know the main character and their love interest well enough, but I'm wondering what Tumblr thinks about it.

I've also heard that first-person horror could enhance the thriller and suspense of a horror novel, but I have yet to hear many people talking about it.

I'd love to hear your reasons for using first-person or third-person POV, but it's okay if you pick one over the other without giving a reason. Thank you for your time, esteemed Tumblr users.

[ggardengirl]

GGardengirl's Guide to Choosing Perspective & Tense When Writing Fiction

because for some reason, i felt like writing an essay. (word count: 1974)

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First Person: Give Me a Reason, Pretty Please

I don’t think I have written a single thing in first person since I was in middle school, but that is because I mainly write fic. First person fic is generally a turn off for most readers (me included) and I think that’s because first person is such an intimate perspective.

You, the writer, aren’t just writing about a character, you are becoming the character, so that we, the reader, can become the character too. If it is not your original work you’re writing about, then it can feel weird and out of character when we read it, because it implies an intimate knowledge the layman (laystan, if you will) doesn’t have when it comes to the source material. And even if you do know the source material inside and out, and have a serious grasp on the characters, fic readers are not likely to take a chance on it—so keep that in mind, if you’re thinking about first person for a fic. It can be done, and it can be done well, but just keep that in mind, so you know what you’re getting into! 

(This ONLY applies to fic. If you’re writing an original story, I don’t think you need to have any worries about choosing first person, because they are your characters, and it is your story. You can do whatever the fuck you want with them, and no one can say it’s out of character. Now, onto my main thought about first person.) 

First person reads as a real time internal monologue—these are thoughts being thought for the very first time, as something happens, not after. Because of this, it should mainly be used with present tense, unless there is a narrative reason for past tense, such as the protagonist writing the book they exist in. 

Think: Percy Jackson and the Olympians—We are supposed to read the books as if Percy himself is the one who is writing them, not Rick Riordan. (It’s kind of a mixed perspective, because he does address us, the reader, which is direct address, but it’s still first person. The audience is only really referred to as an aside.)

We know this, because Percy straight up tells us it’s a book in the second sentence of The Lightning Thief:

“If you're reading this because you think you might be [a half-blood], my advice is: close this book right now.”

Percy is writing down his story, so that future demigods can learn from his experience. Everything that happens in PJO has technically already happened. Future Percy is telling us how Past Percy felt in those moments, while also having the gift of hindsight, and being able to know what is important and what’s not. (One could argue that this would make it present tense, but Present Percy isn’t telling us what’s happening in the current moment. The story is still set in the past.) 

It can feel weird to read something in past tense when the narrative doesn’t call for it, because it makes me wonder: who is the protagonist narrating for? If the story isn’t happening in the moment, are they just sitting somewhere, going through their past beat by beat in their mind?

“I did [BLANK],” “I thought [BLANK],” —why are they rehashing their own thoughts? And why are we, the reader, being told their past thoughts? Give us a reason!

This is just my personal opinion—there doesn’t technically need to be an in-universe reason for first person being past tense. There’s no hard and fast rule. But I find it distracting to read, and I think it’s something to be aware of—the last thing you want as a writer is for your reader to be stuck on storytelling logistics, and not the actual story. 

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Third Person: Flexible as Hell 

Third person is a lot more malleable. It can be past or present, but it’s still good to think through your choice of tense and whether or not it should be omniscient or limited. You want to choose something that helps serve the story, and doesn’t hinder it.  

Past tense omniscient makes it clear right off the bat that the story being told is a work of fiction. It’s very storybook-esque; very Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, and all that. You don’t need an explicit narrator to make this work, but this is where an explicit narrator works the best—think: The Book Thief, and how it’s narrated by Death. (Once again, one could argue this is technically first person, but since Death isn't actually in the story, he's just telling it, it is seen as third person.)

It works similar to Percy Jackson—everything we are being told has already happened, and the narrator is telling us what happened for a reason. There is a purpose in this specific story being told—we want to read on, so we can find that purpose. 

Present tense omniscient feels more like a movie/live action. We, the reader, are watching the events unfold. These things are happening now, and we are witnessing it. And, like a movie, we see a fuller version of events, because we aren’t only seeing through the eyes of one person. We are watching from a third party camera; a bird’s eye view—not straight through a character’s eyes. If you want your story to feel like a movie, this is probably the way to go. 

Limited and limited omniscient POV’s work in the same way. Both focus on the direct view of a protagonist; we see what they see—limited omniscience just means you add more characters to the mix. This is typically what I choose to write in, but I oscillate frequently between past and present tense with different stories, sometimes with no rhyme or reason. If it’s a book I’m writing fic for, I tend to use whatever tense the book was written in, but otherwise, it’s just based on vibes. 

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Second Person: Criminally Underutilized, Terminally Misunderstood

Second person is…complicated. Which is understandable—it can be weird to read, and tricky to write. I understand why people tend to write second person off, but I think that’s a huge loss for them. Because when second person works, it fucking works. 

Second person works best in the present tense. I think of it like there’s an omniscient overlord who’s describing your—the protagonist’s—life in real time, as it actually happens. Past tense feels weird because why is the overlord telling you what you did? You already did it—you should know. 

SIDENOTE: (spoilers for Harrow the Ninth)

This is the exception to the previous statement. Second person past tense can work, but only if the story is lying to you and is secretly first person direct address. It works when I, a secondary protagonist, am narrating what happened to you, the main protagonist, while I was hidden in your body like a parasite after you lobotomized yourself in the name of love, and you need some clarification of events after the fact. This, and only this, is when it works. (Please read The Locked Tomb series. I’m begging you.)

BACK TO THE POINT:

You can write in second person no matter what the story is about, but I think the real beauty in second person comes through when it’s being used for a reason. I’ve found that it works best in character explorations, and stories where the main character has complicated feelings surrounding their identity. Second person detaches you from the world; it adds a degree of separation from the self that you can’t get with any other perspective. 

For example: there’s a wonderful jackieshauna fic by britishngay on AO3, called memento mori, that’s set in Ancient Rome. The entire story is set in second person, and while reading it, I realized that it couldn’t be written any other way and still work the way it was meant to.

(Spoilers for the entire fic—feel free to come back, but it's still worth reading even knowing what I'm about to say) 

In memento mori, Shauna is a former butcher whose home is destroyed and is taken to Rome. In Rome, she’s forced to be a gladiator, and to go by the name of “Butcher.” 

Shauna is robbed of her identity as “Shauna.” She keeps her name as a secret just for herself, because it’s the only thing she has that’s still hers—the only thing that has yet to be stolen. She takes on the persona of “Butcher.”

“‘Far from home, it’s the Butcher of Gaul!’ The announcer yells and the gate starts to rise. The anxiety in your gut reaches an all-time high before dropping to nothing, you detach yourself from you, the girl from the woman, the rebel to the gladiator, Shauna from the butcher.”

Butcher is violent, ruthless; an amalgamation of the audience’s desires. But she can’t be anything other than Butcher, because Shauna died when her home did. 

“‘Butcher?’ [Jackie] asks, tentative and for a second you forgot that that’s how she knows you, that that’s your name, your identity here. It’s Shauna, my name is Shauna. You almost say but it gets quelled by your head. Nothing else, nothing more.”

It’s only as her relationship with Jackie grows, and she feels like she can open up to her, that she tells Jackie her real name, and then eventually Van. By the end of the story, she’s reclaimed her identity as Shauna all together.

“‘My name is Shauna.’ You tell [Van], in case you don’t make it. She’s probably your closest friend here, and you want someone else to say it, so you can hear it one more time before you go out there, in case." "It’s nice to hear it. You’re enjoying hearing it said again, by people you trust.”

The story works the way it does, and has the impact it does because of the perspective it’s in. There is no other way it could work.

Third person wouldn’t work: Shauna would have to be referred to by name—but the narrative can’t refer to her as Shauna, because she isn’t Shauna, she’s Butcher. But she’s not entirely Butcher, because that would mean she’d completely erased her identity as Shauna. 

First person wouldn’t work either. It would solve the problem of how to refer to Shauna, but it wouldn’t serve the narrative—it wouldn’t show the disconnect she has when it comes to who she is and the things she is doing. First person is far too personal, too intimate, and she has walls up for everyone around her, even herself. Shauna can’t invite an audience into her internal monologue when she doesn’t even let herself into it. 

Which leaves only second person. When Shauna’s real name is mentioned, when we see Shauna call herself “Shauna,” or her friends call her “Shauna,” it feels important. It’s important, because it’s only ever mentioned those few times—only 34 times is the word “Shauna” written. “Butcher” is written 81 times. 

Writing from a second person perspective gets me into a character’s head more than any other perspective. It plays a weird trick on my brain, where I start to feel like I am the “you” I’m writing about. There is something about how matter of fact it feels to write something like, “You walk down the street. You feel broken inside,” that makes me go: “Huh. I guess I’m walking down the street and feel broken inside.” Shit makes me feel weird, but I love it. 

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No matter what perspective or tense you choose to use, remember this: writing is fun! It is meant to be fun! Don't torture yourself with this stuff if it makes writing not fun—talking about technical things and writing strategies is just how writing is fun for me.

Happy writing!

xoxo, lulu ‪‪❤︎‬

(TLDR: first person past tense needs a reason, third person is a jack of all trades, and second person is kinda cool, actually.)