#i hope this is legible whoops

[egophiliac]

What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

[kideternity]

[Image ID: Four digital ink drawings of digimon Neodevimon, Helloogarmon, Starman and Oboromon. Neodevimon is a skinny humanoid with long hair and extremely long clawed arms covered in bandages up to the forearm, tattered devil wings with a spike at the top of both, wearing a horned mask with six eyes, zipped collar, shoulder pad on the left arm, leather straps around both shoulders, with a bare upper body that is imbedded with circular embellishments across the chest to the stomach and right shoulder, and baggy pants with coffin shaped kneepads and strappy heeled boots that have two spikes at the toe. Their pose is a mid action type pose where they are looking to the side. Helloogarmon is a large canine esque bipedal monster made of fire with an open skeletal maw fill of prominent teeth- they have skeletal spikes sticking out of their back, and skeletal claws as well. They have a long tail with a tail skeleton showing through it, and bandages around both upper arms and around their lower body ending at the toes. They are in a hunched position. Starmon is a star shaped being with a gem in the middle of their top spike, and in the middle of their star shaped body is a small dark oddly shaped face opening showing two eyes. They have long strap covered arms and legs- they are wearing big gloves and boots as well, with both having straps and metal stud embellishments, as well as a star patch on each. They are wearing a tattered scarf, and are in an energetic action pose, surrounded by small star scribbles. Oboromon is an undead being wearing a conical hat with long horns coming through- their hair is short and choppy, and their face is covered in bandages. They have exposed teeth and shadowed eyes, and are wearing a tattered scarf. Their sleeves are tattered as well and different lengths- on the right side, they have an ornamental shoulder pad and samurai esque armour piece, and their right arm is a giant horse like skull with a sword coming out of the mouth. Their left arm is humanoid and covered in bandages. Their entire ribcage and spine is exposed, which ends in a large rotund mass of smoke with a warped face on it. There is more tattered fabric coming from their right shoulder, and they are covered and surrounded by arrows and pieces of paper. /End Image ID]

Go go digital monsters

[ridiasfangirlings]

im pretty sure you must have had something like this in your asks before but just in case, id like to see your take on these for sarumi

I haven’t done this exact one but I actually did something similar on Twitter a long while back that I don’t think I ever posted here:

[venus-is-thinking]

DRDT Handwriting Analysis

Hello everyone! I decided to take a look at the canonical handwriting of the various characters in DRDT. We've actually seen a good number of handwritings and it definitely seems like they are specifically written differently, so it's a fun new dimension of the characters we can look at. I've done my best to compile all of them in this post, but please let me know if I've missed any!

I'll be going in order of when we first see them, starting with:

Arei Nageishi!

Arei is our first handwriting reveal, which we know because she wrote the arm wrestling contest board in Chapter 1, Episode 2! She seems to write in all caps and has a slightly curvy style.

Min Jeung!

Whoops, murder time. Min's handwriting is seen on the "OUT OF ORDER" sign. We don't know it's hers when we first see it, but in the trial, it's revealed that she must have written it.

As far as I remember, we don't have another sample of her handwriting, which is unfortunate, given that I believe this is probably not what her real handwriting looks like. She's clearly printing in very straight lines; it's probably meant to look official. If it looked handwritten, it would lower the credibility of the out of order sign.

I also tried to see if you could tell what any handwriting looked like from the papers on the table in the Bonus Episode she's in, but I didn't manage to pick anything out that was actually legible. So, I guess we don't really know what Min's handwriting would normally look like.

Xander Matthews!

Xander wrote "Charles Cuevas' Motive" on this DVD, but a lot of it got smudged off when he planted it in the CD reader (god I hope I got it right I'm sorry Charles I'm trying to remember which is which).

He seems to use all caps. It's also not the neatest, given that the two Cs run into each other despite being on different lines.

Notably, there is a more filled-out version.

However, the red text isn't written by Xander himself, because he's dead at the time. As best I can figure, this is Teruko writing in an impression of Xander's handwriting. The image of the CD appears as Teruko says, "Hm, are you talking about this?" implying she's the one carrying it, and the rest of the writing is filled in when she says so. It might seem like it would be Rose, given that she's the one who figures out what it's supposed to say, but Rose instructs someone else to rotate it, so it can be assumed Rose isn't holding it. Teruko is the one to take the DVD out of the player at the end of investigation, so I'd really assume it's her.

...HOWEVER!

We actually have a specific example of Teruko replicating Xander's handwriting! She smudges it during investigation and re-writes it on. It seems to me like the creator went back to the original version of the CD in the trial (the little ink blot at the left of the O matches better with the first of the two images here, imo). I doubt there was much internal consistency given to how Teruko writes Xander's handwriting when trying to replicate it on this CD, but...

Teruko Tawaki!

Teruko's handwriting is bad-bad. It's very shaky and she struggles with letters. The O and C (as she thinks she's writing) that she replicates back on the CD have some more of the shakiness that this handwriting has, which implies to me that the creator knew at the point of the Chapter 1 murder that Teruko's handwriting wasn't smooth. The replication of Xander's handwriting in red back in Xander's section looks smoother than I think Teruko's would, which might be points towards someone else having written it. No clue who, though.

Notably for Teruko, I honestly wonder if she's meant to have dysgraphia? I don't know a ton about it, but it's a learning disability that makes it much harder for people with the condition to handwrite clearly. Just an interesting sidenote, if anyone with dysgraphia knows more/if this is wrong to say in some way, please let me know!

Charles Cuevas!

Back on track, I skipped ahead with Teruko to put hers next to Xander's. We don't technically have confirmation that this is Charles' handwriting, but it's very very heavily implied. It's written in cursive, which Whit says Charles writes in in the Chapter 2 trial.

This also implies that Whit has seen Charles' handwriting, which could add more to imply that this is his, but considering Charles has evidently seen Whit's (more in a sec), I don't think that means much.

Plus, as a fun note, Charles' custom weapon is the only one that isn't listed on the above handwriting sample. This is the biggest factor in me believing that it's Charles'. (Plus, I think Whit says something about getting it from a friend? I'm not reopening the episode sorry gang)

Whit Young?

Wait, where's the handwriting?

Well, as far as I remember, we haven't actually seen Whit's handwriting. We know from Charles that he dots his Is with hearts, but that's all we got. Sorry gang.

Eden Tobisa!

Eden literally gave us a handwriting sample. Thanks!

It's pretty cute! She has a curvier handwriting style with some irregular spacing, which I think gives it nice charm and character.

The Chapter 2 Killer??? (or accomplice)

Idk man! It seems like it has to relate to someone who's at least somewhat guilty in this whole thing, right?

I've written briefly about why I believe this is Levi's handwriting on @1moreff-creator's Levi accomplice theory post, but that would totally work for the popular theory that he's the killer, too. Either way, it's a handwriting sample.

Bonus!

NO WIFI! WHY LIVE :(

I have no idea who wrote this. From what I can tell, it might've been here when the cast got there...? The weird thing is that it changes.

Shoutout to @accirax for remembering that the white board changed, because I did NOT notice/remember. However, that begs the question...

WHO THE HELL WROTE THIS???

It's very possibly Veronika, as she's the one who's noted to, like, know and remember what Monokuma looks like. If so, that means we have a Veronika handwriting sample, yay! I really don't know who else would be drawing Monokumas. Maybe the mastermind...?

And that's all! Clearly there's no point to this post and I can wrap this-

Haha. You didn't think I actually made a post that doesn't have a theory to it, did you?

This has all been building up to me trying to figure out who the hell wrote this note. Because, I originally believed it made the most sense if it was a note that Xander wrote to himself, but accirax pointed out that we've seen Xander's handwriting, and it looks different. Then, I started noticing that we've been receiving various handwritings. Like, a LOT of handwritings.

I think that it's plenty likely that we're going to receive EVERYONE'S handwriting at some point throughout this series. Notably, all characters who have died thus far (Xander, Min, Arei, Chapter 2 Killer Even Though We Don't Know Who They Are) have already shown us their handwriting. This is probably because we're going to figure out who wrote this note at some point.

Does that mean everyone whose handwriting we've already seen thus far is safe? Maybe! I've gone through and talked about Xander, Arei, Eden, Charles and Teruko's with confidence. From what we know of Min's and Whit's, it doesn't seem like it's theirs, but I'd believe for either of them that it could be theirs if the devs wanted to pull a fast one on us (Whit could just... not write with hearts on the Is for this one. Min was replicating printed text).

I guess that means I'm saying that the most likely authors of the "Kill Teruko Tawaki" note are Mai Akasaki Ace, Rose, Hu, Arturo, Veronika, J or Nico, with Min, Whit and Levi also being possibilities that I just don't believe as strongly. I do want to note that, if Rose IS the one who wrote it, she could also easily be replicating someone else's handwriting. Ultimate Art Forger moment.

Conclusion

I compiled this image of all the handwriting I talked about with the purple being known handwriting and the gray being unknown.

I think it's really cool that the dev put time into giving each of the characters unique handwriting, and I think it's definitely a piece of evidence to keep in mind when theorizing about masterminds and killers and such.

Hopefully this was a fun read! I look forward to possibly figuring out the handwritings of literally every other character someday.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Chapter 3 Available Now!

Tagging: @lemonlyman-dotcom and @kiwichaeng

Carlos is an IDIOT. He’s never listening to his sisters again. He’s never texting again. He’s going to become a monk and live a life of solitude.

He stares at the photo on his screen that is decidedly not Deacon from the bar. Deacon’s eyes didn’t sparkle like that, his smile didn’t look like literal sunshine, and his hair definitely wasn’t perfectly tousled in a way that makes Carlos’ fingers itch to run through it. 

This guy looks vaguely familiar, but the name T.K. doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe he’s seen him at the grocery store? Or they go to the same coffee shop?

However he does or doesn’t know him, Carlos ha never felt more embarrassed in his entire life. His fingers fly as he types out an apology.

Carlos

[8:53pm] Oh my god. I’m so sorry.

Not Bar Guy

[8:53pm] No worries.

Did Deacon give him a fake number? Carlos gets up and searches his mail bin for the cocktail napkin he’d brought home from the bar. The number is still legible and Carlos’ eyes scan it quickly. 512…

Carlos checks the number he’d typed into his messages. 212.

Whoops.

How had that happened? Where the hell is the 212 area code even from? Definitely not Austin. Carlos sighs and shakes his head. Whatever. It’s done. He’ll just…text the right number and try again. 

Maybe. 

Or maybe not. 

He flops back onto his sofa, his head a little swimmy from the whiskey. What a fucking mess. He lets his eyes slide shut. Maybe he’ll just go to sleep and when he wakes up this will all have been an alcohol induced nightmare.

His phone buzzes and he reluctantly opens his eyes to find another text message.

Not Bar Guy

[9:02pm] I definitely would remember kissing someone like you. I hope Deacon appreciated it.

He jerks upright, his heart pounding. Is this guy, T.K., is he…flirting? 

Something about the words and the screen and the whiskey and the calming sound of British bakers in the background emboldens him and he types back.

Carlos

[9:03pm] I like to think he did. I’m a pretty good kisser.

Not Bar Guy

[9:04pm] I’m sure you are. Did he give as good as he got?

Carlos huffs out a breath of surprise, the pounding in his heart easing into a more relaxed sense of fun.

Carlos

[9:04pm] He was all right.

Not Bar Guy 

[9:05pm] Just all right? That was a pretty hot pic for just all right.

He flushes. Yes. Okay. He’d been trying to make a little bit of a point. And maybe it was a tiny bit desperate. But he doesn’t want this guy, T.K., to know that.

Before he can formulate a good response another text comes through.

Not Bar Guy

[9:06pm] Just saying, you look like you deserve a little more than that.

Carlos snorts as he types back.

Carlos

[9:06pm] You’ve decided that from one picture?

Not Bar Guy 

[9:06pm] What can I say? I call ‘em like I see ‘em. It’s a very convincing picture.

Carlos

[9:07pm] Thanks. Yours is pretty good too.

Not Bar Guy- T.K. 

[9:07pm] Just pretty good? Ouch.

Carlos

[9:07pm] Ah I knew I could see a sensitive ego in those green eyes. How would you like me to describe it?

Not Bar Guy- T.K. 

[9:08pm] Charming, captivating, endearing…

Carlos

[9:08pm] Pushy? Forward?

Not Bar Guy- T.K. 

[9:08pm] Forward? Says the guy who sent a thirst trap to a complete stranger…

Carlos

[9:09pm] I thought you were Deacon!

T.K. doesn’t respond for long enough that Carlos wonders if he’s finally gotten tired of the conversation. It’s crazy how disappointed that makes him. He’s just about to call it a night and go to bed when his phone lights up once more.

Not Bar Guy- T.K. 

[9:15pm] Sorry, call came in. Gotta go. This was fun though. We should do it again sometime.

A call? Carlos frowns and pulls T.K.’s picture up again, zooming in. He’d been so surprised and embarrassed he hadn’t even noticed the AFD logo on his shirt. This guy is local? Even though his number is clearly from somewhere else?

That’s probably why he looks vaguely familiar. They’ve likely been on some of the same calls. Big ones, obviously, otherwise he would have gotten a more decent look at the guy. There’s no way he would have forgotten those sea green eyes if they’d ever locked on his in person before. 

The whiskey is making him sleepy, pulling his eyes downward so he drags himself upstairs and readies for bed.

If T.K.’s picture is the last thing he looks at before he closes his eyes…well, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

Carlos arrives for his shift the next day in a good mood. A really good mood.

“Morning,” he says, setting a coffee from the place down the block on Lexi’s desk. 

“Morning,” she says, looking up in surprise. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Carlos says, sitting down at his desk and booting up the desktop. 

She eyes him suspiciously. “You look perky. More perky than usual.”

Carlos shrugs. “I had dinner with my sisters last night. We had a good time.”

“Mmm….no,” Lexi says. “This isn’t sisters happy. This is something else.”

“Okay, well if you figure it out, let me know,” he tells her. He pulls up his email and then tries to keep his voice casual, as if he hasn’t been planning his next words since the moment he woke up. “Hey, you don’t happen to know a firefighter named T.K. do you?”

It’s the first time he’s said T.K.’s name out loud and it makes his heart flutter. The letters feel familiar in his mouth and send sparks through his stomach. It’s stupid, but this is the feeling he was trying to convey to his sisters last night. Which is dumb. Because he literally knows nothing about this guy.

“T.K.? As in Strand?” Lexi asks.

“Um, yeah?” Carlos hedges. How many T.K.’s can there be in the AFD?

“Isn’t that the firefighter that got shot a couple months ago?” she asks. “Out of the 126?”

Oh. Oh. 

That’s why he looked familiar. His picture had been on every news network, the talk of the department for over a week. Firefighter shot on duty. Crazy stuff.

“Right,” he says. “Now I remember.”

“I think his dad’s captain of that station,” Lexi says. “Why are you asking?”

“His name came up when I was out with a couple of the guys,” Carlos lies. “I couldn’t place him and thought you might remember.”

“That whole house was killed in that big explosion too, remember?”

“Right,” Carlos says, remembering it all too well. He knows people who’d gone to the scene that night and found total devastation. It was awful.

He waits for Lexi to go back to her work and then Carlos does something he promised himself he would never, ever do. He runs a background check for personal reasons.

T.K. stands for Tyler Kennedy. Carlos thinks of the picture he saved to his phone. T.K. is definitely a better fit. It’s fun and cute. Tyler Kennedy is…a little too stuffy for that rumpled hair and cheeky grin.

The shooting pops up obviously, but it’s not the only thing. Carlos clicks on a file from six months ago. T.K. was brought in for drunk and disorderly as well as assault and battery, but he blew a point zero and no charges were pressed. Huh. Interesting.

He clicks on the report of the shooting. It’s grim. Carlos feels sick as his eyes scan the words. Point blank range to the chest, a kid was involved…T.K. is damn lucky he survived.

He can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. They head out on patrol and he can’t help secretly hoping they’ll get rolled to a fire call somewhere. Then he realizes how stupid that is. Fire is a twenty-four hour shift. If T.K. was on last night, he’s probably off the rest of today. 

Carlos hits the gym after work and then the grocery store. Usually cooking puts him in a good headspace, but tonight he’s a million miles away. He can’t stop thinking about their conversation. Or the shooting. Is T.K. okay? Does he have permanent damage? He’s obviously back at work since he went out on a call last night, so does that mean he’s okay now?

This is so stupid, he doesn’t even know the guy. He shouldn’t care this much. It’s just, the thought of that beautiful face no longer being in the world isn’t sitting well with him.

He settles into bed intent on reading, trying to take his mind off of things. But his eyes keep drifting to his phone. 

He should not do this. You don’t text random strangers out of the blue. That’s not normal. It’s not okay.

He picks up his phone and then almost drops it when it buzzes in his hand.

T.K.

[9:13pm] So. Did you get in touch with “Deacon”?

Carlos stares at his phone like it’s some kind of poisonous snake. Did he make this happen? What are the chances T.K. would text him at the exact moment he’d made up his mind to do the same?

Carlos

[9:14pm] What’s with the quotes?

T.K.

[9:14pm] I’m not convinced Deacon is a real person.

Carlos

[9:14pm] You think I kissed an imaginary man in a bar?

T.K.

[9:15pm] Alcohol can make you believe a lot of things…

Carlos

[9:15pm] I’d had one beer!

T.K.

[9:15pm] You’re avoiding the question.

Carlos

[9:16pm] I was at work all day today. There wasn’t time.

T.K.

[9:17pm] No time like the present. Do you want help? I’m very good with words.

Carlos snorts and types quickly.

Carlos

[9:17pm:] I’m not going to text him. That ship has sailed.

T.K.

[9:17pm] Good.

Carlos

[9:18pm] Good?

T.K.

[9:18pm] I feel a sense of responsibility now that I’ve seen your abs. Those deserve to be protected from the average Deacons of the world.

Okay this guy is straight up flirting. They’re about three texts away from a booty call. Which is not something Carlos does. But the shiver dancing up and down his spine whispers at him to make an exception. 

He decides to change the subject before he does something stupid. 

Carlos

[9:19pm] So you’re AFD?

T.K.

[9:20pm] Yep.

Carlos

[9:20pm] But you’re not from here.

T.K.

[9:21pm] Not even a little.

Over the next half hour Carlos learns that T.K. came with his dad from New York to rebuild the 126. And not just New York, but like New York, New York. The kind of New York that Carlos has only seen in movies and on TV.

Even through the phone Carlos can tell it wasn’t an easy move. T.K. seems to be glossing over the finer details, but he does talk about his dad’s cancer and how hard it was to leave his mom.

Carlos can’t even imagine uprooting his entire life to move to somewhere so different. His family is here. His entire life is here. 

Carlos

[9:47pm] That must have been really hard. To leave your whole life behind.

T.K.

9:48pm: I needed the change. My dad saw it. There was nothing left for me there. But yeah. It wasn’t easy. Why does everyone here smile all the time? What’s with all the friendliness?

Carlos

[9:50pm] Well you never know when you might need to borrow somebody’s tractor or an extra pair of hands for calving season. You have to be nice to your neighbors so they’ll return the favor.

T.K.

[9:51pm] Ah, see. I knew that niceness didn’t come honestly. It’s all a ruse.

Carlos

[9:51pm] You got us.

Carlos glances at the clock and sighs.

Carlos

[9:52pm] Hey sorry, I have an early shift again tomorrow. I should probably call it a night.

T.K.

[9:52pm] A shift? At the…hospital? Coal mine? Car wash?

Carlos

[9:52pm] Those might be easier. I’m APD.

T.K.

[9:53pm] Wow you really withheld the evidence on that one officer.

Carlos

[9:53pm] Well I can’t tell you everything all at once. Where’s the fun in that?

T.K.

[9:54pm] I look forward to continuing to play detective.

Carlos sets his phone down and heads into the bathroom to get ready for bed. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and pauses. He’s smiling. A lovesick, dreamy smile. The sight makes him laugh at himself. He’s an idiot. 

[slashmagpie]

okay . okay. hello, hope you're going well! please excuse me doing this instead of commenting on lost boys, but i wasn't logged in on my phone and i am.. very lazy sJKCBGFDJKS

. i didn't realise you could add a 'keep reading' to asks? but uh. man i hope this brings you some joy, at least skjgbcfds

okay . oookay . okay head in my fUCKING hadns

i just went and reread the entire series, because i . CANNOT get this off of my mind. and i have SO MANY MORE QUESTIONS . AUGHGKFDJ

who is the queen? what happened to her? why was the moon an egg? what was the moon? what the fuck is etho? WHERE DO THE ALIENS COMEF ROM .NHNGJKFDS this featured in my DREAM last night, okay . you're sending me INSANE

i'm genuinely so so obsessed with the way you do buildup. i mean.. man, i've read the whole thing, but on reread i kept having to put my phone down and make (quite frankly inhuman) noises because the way you structure this entire series is so, so insanely talented and well-done and . aUGHHHGDFKJGBS I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY EXCEPT THAT I'M GOING INSANE ,. yeah. y eah.

. you're honestly an artist dude, this is so so well-developed, the worldbuilding is an insanely unique idea (the QUINTESSENCE ??? DUDE . even if etho has become its god, just the very concept of a world without sapience?? one that doesn't have purpose, doesn't have /meaning/, and yet was so hungry for a creator that it dragged etho into it?)

(NOT TO MENTION THE CHOKEHOLD THAT YOUR MAGIC SYSTEM HAS ON ME. tunguskite being the origin of magic (or not really magic at all), and then incorporating it into the blood of 'mages' to allow them to perform '''impossible''' tasks… man . m a n) (i'd also like to mention the etho/other etho dichotomy, and then the realization that it was always him after all? . gOD)

i can't stop thinking about how etho described demons as 'beings that can do magic without blood,' followed by pearl describing the reds as demons?. like ,, okay it might be coincidence. it might be accidental phrasing, or just a throwaway line, but i. i DON'T KNOW ANYMORE . GHH

. aughgHGHHHH I AM NOT A PATIENT PERSON THIS FIC IS DOING THISNGS TO ME . <- dramatic, please excuse me sKCJGBFDS

..anyway uh! i'm so sorry it's like three in the morning and i can't make this any more legible but i, uh. i hope you don't mind. this entire serious is absolutely wonderful, and i'd just like to thank you for the honour of being able to share in such wonderful writing and worldbuilding :)

-@crimson-roots (since i can't send asks from my sideblog, whoops :"D) . uhh! yeah! sorry again for rambling in your askbox, and i hope you have a good night!

🥰🥹😊❤️❤️

...No wait that's not Enough. Hang on.

There we go, that's a pretty good representation of my emotions rn.

So it turns out you can't actually put a readmore in an ask, but I'm gonna put one before my answer because otherwise oh boy this post is gonna get long.

So many questions!! A lot of them will get answered in the text ("what happened to the queen?" well I'm glad you asked—) but as for the ones that probably won't (or, if they do come up, won't be super plot-relevant or that important so I can answer):

The Egg is basically where the aliens are "born"; it's near a black hole, it's got some natural tunguskite reserves, and it's basically hollow save for the pulsing mass of the hivemind. It's also, y'know. A moon. It's orbiting some sort of planet somewhere. (Probably actually the planet the Hermethius was returning from, now that I think about it.)

"What the fuck is Etho?" I'll do you one better: why the fuck is Etho? (Okay, but actually: Etho was a mortal mage, and is now an immortal... something. He's not quite a god on the same level that Bdubs is, but he's more than just a regular [redacted] like [redacted] or [redacted].)

The demons thing: Etho is a person who attempts to explain magic with science, and Pearl is a person who attempts to explain science with magic. Generally, Etho's definition of "demon" (person who can do magic without blood) and most mages' definitions of "demon" (in this case, as a synonym for the Reds) don't overlap, except for when they do (for example, in the case of New Tenacity, [redacted], or [redacted]). Fun fact: False generally uses Pearl's definition of "demon" to refer to the aliens (or any other sort of person-who-isn't-a-person, like Hels) rather than Etho's, since her whole thing is being a "demon hunter." If she were using Etho's definition, that would technically make her a demon herself. (Essentially: "demon" is a catch-all word magical people use for "thing/being I don't understand." It has a lot of uses and now that I think about it that's probably kind of confusing, oops.)

And then to address some of the other comments:

I have genuinely had so much fun setting up all the dominoes in this story and I am just as excited to watch them fall as you all are. Honestly, the set-up I've done for LLAU is some of my favourite technical writing of mine ever, in the sense of narrative construction and structure. This was also a pretty good time for a reread, because in a few chapters we're going to get to a scene in which a LOT of this stuff's gonna pay off. (I don't know how many chapters because every time we get close I have to revise my mental outline and add another chapter for pacing purposes but we're So Close we're closer than we've ever been I've been excited about this plot point for FOREVER.)

Honestly, I think a lot of the coolness of the worldbuilding and story construction here comes from the original source material, i.e. the Lifeline games. The Lifeline series consists of like 8(?) games, all of differing genres and with mostly different casts, and over the course of the games more and more of its central worldbuilding is revealed and builds up into the metaplot, which is of course the aliens' attempt to take over the Earth. However, Lifeline got discontinued before it could conclude, and many of its mysteries will remain mysteries (even the one game that came out post-discontinuation, Beside You In Time, doesn't seem to answer any of the questions from what little I've played of it). Because of this, it meant I got to take the pieces I'd been given, throw out what I didn't like, add in new things that I did, and tie it all together to make sense. (There's definitely some Early Installment Weirdness in the series because of this, because I started writing this AU on a whim and it took me a While to nail down the specifics of the magic system, how the aliens work, etc.)

For an example of this: "magic is a lie" is a line that reoccurs throughout the games and is Never explained. It's vaguely implied that magic actually has something to do with tunguskite, so my solution to this is that the energy tunguskite emits is what mages call "magic." So mages have tunguskite in their blood. It's like microplastics! But probably significantly more cool.

And then there's the way it incorporates the Hermitcraft lore and characters—Bdubs' whole thing was my attempt to fuse together two different characters from the original games, because Bdubs Had to be both Captain Aya and Clepsydra, and how could I explain him both being in space and an ancient time monk at the same time? And The Bdubs Thing is one of my favourite parts of this AU because the way those two things came together is just so delightfully weird. Constructing this story and its world has honestly been such a blast, I don't think I've ever enjoyed the experience of writing a fic this much.

(When the story is done I might potentially write a post explaining how I took the Lifeline game lore and changed it to work for this fic, because right now some of that stuff is spoilers but I think it's a very fun topic and would love to do a deeper dive into it.)

Anyway, enough of me rambling, thank you so much for this ask!!! It honestly made my day lol. (Also this fic is very much a passion project and definitely the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written so I'm always delighted whenever I get the chance to ramble about it and my writing process.) I should probably go get working on the next chapter instead of procrastinating by answering this ask. (In my defence, Grian and Joe are causing me anguish. Send help.)

[liamsmusicrecs]

Album A Day - April

My album a day for April. Explanations of the color-coding and a more legible list is under the cut.

5/5 (Bright Green): From Studio 4 - Anvil Cat Gold Rush Kid - George Ezra Good Kid 3 - Good Kid Head In The Clouds - Arrows In Action Skinny Dipping - Stand Alantic Canon Eyes - I Fight Dragons Bed of Liars - the Unlikely Candidates  Electrogram - Vinyl Theater 

4/5 (Muted - Green): Notes On A Conditional For - The 1975 Being Funny In A Foreign Language - The 1975 Everything This Way -Walking On Cars the record - boygenius SUCKAPUNCH - You Me At Six Every Second - Little Hurt Intellectual Property - Waterparks I Hope Hell Isn’t Real - Roe Kapara With Confidence - With Confidence Old Bones - Broadside

3/5 (Yellow): These Days Mixtape - Moth Culture Lonely - Wldlfe Voicenotes - Charlie Puth Wallow In It - Dreamers  Repaint My Mind, 2021 - Wldlfe  Listen - David Guetta boygenius - boygenius Vikings - new Politics

2/5 (Orange): 925 - Sorry Big Whoop - The Rare Ocassions Session Boyfriend -password:password Hollywood Park - the Airborne Toxic Event Pictures From Your Birthday - Jumper Boy

1/5 (Red): There are Leaches in Denton Lake - Everybody’s Worried About Owen Truth Decay - You Me At Six 

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A digital comic featuring Martin Blackwood and Tim Stoker from The Magnus Archives on a white background. Martin is a fat white man with bright red hair, freckles, a small goatee, round glasses, and a gap in his teeth and he is wearing a blue sweater with a white button-up underneath. Tim is a slim man with light brown skin, lilac-colored hair with both sides shaved, a small goatee, a cut in his eyebrow, gauges in his ears, and he is wearing a lilac button-up with purple stripes. They are sitting at a desk with Martin looking a bit sad while resting his chin in his hands, and Tim leaning back with his hands behind his head, smiling.

Martin: Tim, how do you flirt with people? Tim: Well that’s easy! I just make ‘em laugh! Martin: Really? Tim: Yeah! Tim starts counting off on his fingers. Tim: I find someone I’m kinda into, I find what makes them laugh, and when I finally crack the code- Tim blushes, now surrounded by small purple hearts. Tim: - I immediately and inexorably fall deeply in love with them! Martin looks at him wide-eyed and smiling, Tim is still smiling, but with a tear in his eye. Martin: OH NO Tim: OH NO INDEED

end ID]

i adore the idea that Tim gets crushes/falls in love easily. some would say too easily.

i might do more little comics like this surrounding that idea cuz its just so cute and i just love this man so much

[angry-geese]

hey! Just looking for a place to confess my sins.

So basically I have been daydreaming Choso as my boyfriend for about three months now, but lately I hadn't been able to get off the idea of him so I started thinking of other anime men, and today around 5 am I started waking up and couldn't sleep because I dreamed that he started hooking up with Yuki. It was like a soap opera, I genuily couldn't fall asleep because I could only think about Choso and it made me ridiculously mad even though in the "daydreams" I told him it was ok if he wanted to do that. Anyways I managed to fall asleep after thinking about Jolyne aplying makeup.

I woke up like 30 minutes ago and my daydream Choso decided to break up with me????? And I went on to talk over tea to the only other man who has had this chokehold on me (my ex husband in my daydreams) and he was like... you kinda deserve it????? Wtf?????? My daydreams developed a free will all of a sudden or am I just bored??????

Aha anyways as a fellow Choso stan, how can I get back with him? Or should I?

Get with jolyne to spite him

nah the fun thing about daydreaming is you can just,,, kinda pretend that didn't happen if you don't want to. like dreams an stuff are weird, and i totally get that thoughts sometimes run away from you, especially in daydreams

also your ex husband is wrong, you don't deserve to get cheated on??? nobody does??? fkjdgfkj like irl i have this thing where like,, cheating is a dealbreaker, and not that i'm very forgiving in the first place but cheating is like,, unforgivable, and i would not give someone a second chance after that. cheating is one of those things where it says something more about the person doing it to you than it does about you.

im all for soap-opera levels of drama in stories but they're also that: stories. and if you're not happy with the narrative then its totally fine to take it in a different direction. sometimes certain plot points have to be scrapped. and sometimes a bit of angst makes for an entertaining story

i realize im kind of rambling so sorry lol but if you want to, i say do it. if you dont, i say don't stress it. not to be cheesy, but if it makes you happy, then do it.

[cecilsstorycorner]

This is my attempt to prove that no I have not forgotten about the Collectors, I simply do not control the hyperfixation. Also I kept seeing this iconic post and couldn’t resist

Art taglist: @metanoiamorii @oceancold @endlesshourglass @littlehenrikehd @chayscribbles @kick-kennedy @stardustspiral @thethistlegirl @piyawrites @t-lane-writes @c-h-a-n-d-ra @little-boats-on-a-lake @hazard-writes

[hxh-or-die]

oh yeah update on the screenshots: so i didnt get the ones with me in it :(. they mentioned that they had screenshots of the “arguments” one of the members was working so hard for (hope you had fun getting those because that conversation threw me into an anxiety attack because i just love being accused of supporting incest and pedophilia thank you SO fucking much :)))))))))) but before they could send any of those another mod came along and told them to drop the conversation since now that the chat was public they couldn’t “trust like that” and everyone started deleting. fortunately i was smart and grabbed some screenshots as i was going along. the following is a mix of screenshots of them absolutely destryoing the fansafe hxh server and their comments on it in their own server. im not proud of the things i said to get these.

context: the antis goal was to annoy the members of the fansafe hxh server as much as possible. and one of the antis made a not so subtle joke to a certain fanfic author they liked to make the butt of their jokes

listen thats how i came to love chris giacometti from yoi it HAPPENS ok. palm did some shit that was pretty gross but we are beings capeable of thinking in more than black and white. we can recognize the bad and still like characters its ok

and now for some direct screenshots. gonta, scenecoregonta, kid, and strings mcpickens are all antis

and now some things that they found particularly “funny” sorry wuzzy i think ur a cool person

not pictured: a couple of antis took over the platonic flirting chat and used it for their neko flirting rp or som shit idk i could grab screenshots but im lazy.

there was also an anti trying to get the members to reveal their oh so twisted opinions with questions and prompts ranging from “what are your thoughts on hisoka/illumi/tonpa” to “should i give up hxh alltogether?? theres so many bad things in it :(” and as soon as i let slip that i called myself pro ship it was like i flipped a switch and all of a sudden they were lashing out at me, calling me a pedophile, an incest supporter, all their little buzzwords that really shouldnt be thrown around in the way they’re using them considering the weight they bring. and i tried to have a reasonable conversation but in hindsight it was pointless. these antis block out anything they dont agree with. maybe ill get some screenshots myself but it wont be right now.

the next day the admin found some screenshots and immediately announced that there was a mole (surprise surprise). the remaining antis revealed themselves and celebrated as the admins shut down the  server and then reopened it for only a select few people. fortunately one of those people was me :3c but since then it’s definitley died down a looot and its not getting any more active. to the mods of the fansafe hxh discord server im deeply sorry that these antis had to go and ruin something meant to bring this fandom together. 

and thats all i got! it was a big long conversation so i wasnt able to get all of it but i think this is all pretty telling in itself. in conclusion i think its pretty telling that these antis arent doing these things in the name of activism or a safer fandom environment. they just want to bully the people who make content they dont like when blocking, scrolling past things, and even (dare i say) blacklisting tags, is much easier and takes up much less emotional energy.

[artyfartyliz]

i drew my fav scene from crowfeather’s trial

ashfoot is great, as is anyone who would end a mystical prophetic ghost dream with “now wake up and get on with it”

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

Harry was up before dawn.

By the time first light touched the horizon he had a large fry-up keeping warm in the oven and a vat of butter softening on the counter, Padfoot drooling sadly by his feet. The grocer's would owl a fresh loaf of Draco's preferred wheat bread sometime before they sat to eat.

He showered and dressed with care, attacking his hair with a wet comb like Mrs. Weasley used to. He couldn't remember any of the spells Draco had taught him.

He was putting on his boots when Padfoot wandered into the bedroom, slowly ambling around the bed and picking up the stuffed Niffler that Hermione had crocheted for him, before blinking sombrely at Harry.

Harry smiled. "Are you excited, Pads?"

The dog blinked and slowly lowered onto his haunches.

"He's going to pretend to be offended by you but I promise he will love you more than I do."

Padfoot sighed and rested his snout on the Niffler.

"'Smelly old stray', he'll probably call you." Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Ponce."

He stood and looked around the room; after a moment he drew his wand and flicked it at the bed, stripping it. Then he fetched fresh sheets and made the bed by hand, like Draco always used to.

"See how there are no wrinkles here on the corners? Say what you will but magic always leaves wrinkles," Draco would say. Then he'd sigh. "Unless you're a house elf. Everything you do is impeccable when you're a house elf."

Harry shot some freshening charms at the curtains and just as he was turning away he spotted Ron and Hermione's owl flapping towards the house in the dim golden light.

Harry untied the large cloth bag the owl carried. "Hi, Rufus. Treats are in the kitchen."

Padfoot growled at the owl but didn't go after him, sighing tiredly instead.

Harry smiled as he pulled out a bunch of gorgeous fresh white lilies tied together with a red ribbon.

"Typical Gryffindors," Draco might say.

Ron and Hermione had sent him a gift each. Ron's scribble on his card was barely legible, as usual, and Hermione's said, "Happy birthday, Harry! I hope today goes according to plan. Have a smashing day! Love, Hermione."

Harry smiled and put the flowers in a vase on Draco's bedside table. He left the presents unwrapped. There would be more. Draco loved watching him unwrap others' presents so he could criticise them.

He checked his watch. It was time.

He pulled on his jacket and after a last sweep of the house, deemed it in order.

"Be back in a bit, old boy," he said softly, rubbing Padfoot's head. The mutt pushed himself up and followed Harry to the front door on his shaky, arthritic legs. "Look cute when we get home," Harry reminded him.

He Apparated.

He was instantly chilled to the bone. The island was pitch black, like the early dawn light couldn't touch it quite yet. Harry's breath fogged in front of his face. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Harry trudged quickly to the iron gates.

He spent twenty minutes filling out paper work under a single flickering light bulb. The groans of distress and the jangle of keys made him feel queasy. The wizard at the front desk, white and pinched looking, watched him with a mixture of fear and awe.

At last the papers he signed glowed gold and vanished. The wizard behind the desk nodded and then trotted away, disappearing into the gloom of the place.

Harry waited, his stomach aching with knots. It was even colder inside, somehow. Harry just wanted one single glimpse of him because he knew that would drive away every last trace of the cold.

Pacing restlessly to the single window, he looked out into the still grey morning. There were unmarked graves in the backyard. In the distance, a single line of brilliant silver-gold gleamed - the sun was on the very brink of showing itself; any moment now, there would be light.

There was a rattle and a crash of iron doors. Harry whirled around.

The front desk wizard hurried back to his station and behind him, two burly guards supported a heavily bundled third person. Harry hovered behind the yellow line on the floor marked "Visitors Stop Here". He was about to throw up. He was about to cry. He was about to whoop like a banshee and wake up the whole building.

At the last second, he lost patience, leaping over the line and grabbing the third, smaller figure between the two guards, one of whom growled.

Harry met his gaze calmly. The guard actually stumbled back a step.

The bundle in Harry's arms quivered. The layers around him, Harry recognised; it was the dark green cloak he'd picked up for Draco in Albania while on a mission.

"It's me," Harry whispered. "It's me, love. We're going home."

Harry slapped off the hand that the remaining guard had foolishly left on. Then he half-carried Draco outside.

"I've made us breakfast. I cleaned the house. The whole fucking house, Draco. You owe me. And I have a surprise for you. You'll hate him at first. He smells a bit. But he's so loving. So loyal, Draco. You're going to be buying him things soon enough. He's actually really cute."

The iron gates clanged shut behind them and Harry exhaled with a whoosh; a seven year old whoosh of air.

At that moment the sun cleared the top of the craggy mountain in the distance and the light dazzled Harry's babbling right out of him. So bright was the light that the pale hair under his nose gleamed Patronus-silver.

There was a heart beating frantically against his own. A pair of bony hands clutched at his jacket. Warm, shaky breaths danced across the side of Harry's neck. For a few seconds, it was as if Azkaban, in its entirety, simply did not exist.

Then, in a hoarse, barely audible whisper: "Happy birthday, Harry."

*

[moth-time]

Progress report on bookbinding project, the second!

This is the firebender’s guide to living life after destiny by @volkswagonblues, a gorgeous atla fic about, well, Zuko and Sokka figuring out their lives post-canon. Read it if you haven’t, it’s great.

The cover is mostly done - see first picture. I still want the summary in there somewhere, I don’t know if I want to slap it on the back cover or on the inside of the front or... idk. I’ll figure it out. I am not gonna write it out on the back though because the calligraphy on that front cover was already enough work OTL

The capitalization of the title is mine, original title is all lowercase. I... spent way too much time deciding on capitalization (especially deciding whether to capitalize ‘life’ or not) so I hope the author agrees with my final choice kdjflsgf.

The pages are all formatted and printed - a whole whooping 280 of them (including blanks, titles, etc). Unfortunately, I have a print error on the first and last signatures so I can’t start on the binding today, I have to go reprint those two tomorrow. But yeah it’s a very nice book width, I’m glad the size is working out.

Screenshot of one of my screens during the formatting process for your entertainment. I’m using @nianeyna‘s script and it’s lovely, but I still spent... easily over seven hours formatting this.

Going with coptic stitch for the binding, I have a very nice gold thread that I hope will be thin enough %)

[Image ID in image descriptions.]

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Consider the idea of Lin /Bumi badly timed proposals"? (just a humble linumi shipper loving your fanfics)

Note: Here's my belated response to this prompt. It ran away from me again until I struggled to close the story out. Hope you like it!

One-shot Post-canon AU Lin x Bumi II

Also on AO3. 

---

Outside of the military, Bumi was known to be the spontaneous one. The Avatar’s child who was the most likely to get into trouble. Or get into an adventure, as his grinning father would correct. He was the kid who took quickly to throwing fruit pies to the air acolytes. He was the teen who travelled to the next city because there was a Pro-bending competition happening there. As an adult, he was also the one who tried (and succeeded in) applying for the United Forces on a whim.

It was not often that Bumi would plan for anything linked to his personal life.

This was why, on the weeks leading up to that Night (with a capital N), he felt out of his depth. He did what he did best and tried to plan as he would regarding a military campaign.

This was why he thought he was assured of success.

What he did not count on was the extraneous factors, which was their extended family and social circle.

That – and the weather.

---

“Booms -I’m sorry, it’s not going to work out.” Iroh’s voice crackled over the telephone. “That downpour wouldn’t make anything stick long enough to be legible.”

Bumi sighed as he peered at the window of Tenzin’s study. The waves did crash unpleasantly against the edge of Air Temple Island as the rain fell. “Well, we can still move it tomorrow, right? You and the boys are still free?”

“Of course, provided that the weather is better. As for our availability - ,” Whatever Iroh said was lost as the line crackled again as it was wont to do when the weather was poor. Bumi clicked his tongue. Tenzin really needed to have some repairs made in this temple. “- So after that, we can definitely pick it up for you.”

“Great!” Bumi could care less if they need to adjust the timing a bit – as long as it pushesthrough.

He did not need the details.

---

Or maybe, he should have probed for more details.

The retired commander saw that now as he watched visitors mill around Air Temple Island.

Various air acolytes and airbenders from the different temples now crowd the usually empty courtyard.

How was he to know that it was time for the anniversary of the return of the airbenders? He did not even know there was an identified datefor that.

Or maybe, he would have known had he listened to Tenzin’s lectures.

He scratched his chin, pensively, wondering if this might change anything when something cold and wet lashed at his behind.

“Hello, Bumi.” His sister walked over, a water whip formed at her side, grinning as she usually did.

“Mother said you shouldn’t hit people.”

“Mother said a lot of things that you didn’t follow.” Kya crossed her arms mockingly. She nodded to the entrance of the residential building where their mother stood, surrounded by her youngest grandchildren.

He understood. They never could begrudge their mother anything, especially now with her waning health.

A sea of green passed in the periphery.

“I see Suyin and her brood are here.” Bumi contemplated briefly if it would have any impact to his plans.

Kya commented. “Did they really have to be always in green?”

“Did you always have to be in blue?”

“Touche.” Kya shrugged. “Though, I needed to be blue to occasionally camouflage in the South Pole if I needed to be stealthy.”

“For what?”

From afar, they see Katara beckoning Kya forward from where she and Pema stood by the stoop of the house. “I’ll go get settled now.”

Bumi excused himself, citing some reason to check on something, which, technically he needed to do.

“Tenzin said nothing formal; nothing big. Just a small gathering.” The loud voice of the Avatar grumbled.

The clinking of metal was heard next before Bumi rounded the corner. “And yet, everyone is here.”

“Chief Beifong!”

“Avatar.” Lin inclined her head in greeting, with blank politeness on her face.

Bumi knew better though – the slight tightening of her jaw and the grip she had on her belt: oh, Lin was irritated.

“What’s up?” Korra toyed with the sleeves of her formal wear, obviously uncomfortable.

“How are your travels?” Bumi interjected, popping beside Lin before she manages any acerbic remark.

“We are travelling in style! I think I could get used to it.”

“I think you already are.” Asami looked on with amusement.

“You’re lucky,” Bumi pointed towards where Oogi and the younger bison were flying around. “Dad had to travel on a sky bison.”

“Mom said it wasn’t pleasant.” Lin wrinkled her nose.

“There! You! Are!” Bolin ran and huffed as he arrived before them, doubling over in the effort. “Wing and Wei just found where the food was being prepared, we can sneak off to get some before the– oh hello Chief Beifong!”

“I did not hear anything.” Lin looked skyward and waved her hand at them.

“Beifong!” Bumi quickly caught up with Lin, who strode off quickly when the teenagers started talking about food. “Are you on duty?”

“Yes.” Lin sighed, putting her hand on her hips then stomping, doing a seismic perimeter check. “I know, but I have to.”

“I’ll look for you later.”

“Alright. We’re a bit stretched – Tenzin did not give us the correct numbers of attendees, as usual.” Her forehead crinkled as she concentrated on the perimeter check. “Good thing the Fire Lord sent General Iroh and some of his men to represent their nation.”

“Oh, that’s what he meant.” Bumi murmured to himself.

Lin glanced at him in askance.

“Iroh.” Bumi did not want to expound further. Lin had a way of ferreting out the truth from him without seismic sense anyway.

Bumi accompanied her like a silent sentinel as Chief Beifong went about doing check to her team and on the island.

They have finally arrived at the main courtyard where the usually unflappable master airbender was fluttering about like a bright orange butterfly, holding several sheets of paper, which no doubt was the program for the day.

Lin groaned when Tenzin noticed them.

“Lin!”

“I better go ahead.” With one final eye-rolling, Lin left Bumi’s side before he could even ask where she will be stationed at the end of the program.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Bumi jumped a bit, startled by Kya once again. “Of course not, my meddling gossipy sister.”

She offered him a drink, which he rightly declined. “What’s Tenzin up to?”

The man was now talking rapidly to the chief of police. They were far enough not to hear them but near enough to see what was going on.

“He’s quite excitable.” The retired military man shrugged. “Thank the spirits for Pema, that woman is a saint.”

“You mean, thank the spirits for Lin,” Kya nodded towards the pair as she took a sip of her drink. “Pema was just about ready to rip her hair off these past days. She was looking quite frazzled earlier and after a drink or two, bam! Out tumbled everything - Tenzin was anxious and has been driving her nuts with all the prep for today’s celebration.” She raised a glass to the earthbender and airbender on the main event area. “But look over there – just a few words from our dear Chief of Police and the man calms down.”

Bumi could not help but tense up as he observed Lin and Tenzin on the platform.

As Lin continued to converse with his younger brother, Tenzin began to slowly deflate. A smile started to form on the earlier stressed airbender’s face and the corner of Lin’s lips upturned, a ghost of a smile.

“I swear – those two, I wonder how it would have turned out for them had they known this was going to happen anyway…” Kya trails off, as though suddenly realizing who she was talking to. “I mean – hey, they’re both in happy relationships and it’s perfect and -.”

Bumi swallowed drily, drowning out his sister’s voice.

He had thought about that occasionally, really. There was nothing to go on and Lin had been upfront about, well, everything so he knew where her heart is.

But, looking at the pair now, at the anniversary of the return of the airbenders, supposedly the pinnacle of all their arguments…

“Booms – don’t do anything stupid.”

Now that snapped him from his maudlin thoughts. “Why is it that everyone thinks I’m gonna do something stupid when I keep quiet? It’s a bit offensive, you know.”

“Bumi, I didn’t mean -.”

No matter, Bumi was adamant that his Plan pushes through.

---

“POP! POP! BOOOM! BOOOM POP! Whiiiizzz! BOOM!”

Everyone on Air Temple Island (and even those at the edge of Republic City) looked up to see fireworks littering the night sky.

“BEIFONG… WILL…YOU… ohmy sweet - is that a ring??? .. ME.” Suyin squealed as she read what the fireworks were spelling out.

There was a cacophony from the courtyard of Air Temple Island as everyone sought to find which Beifong was being proposed to.

From their perches around the island, Iroh and the UF men whooped in success of their mission tonight – deploying the firework proposal.

“OH-MY-BOLIIIIN!”

All eyes were on Opal who was clutching at a wide-eyed earthbender.

“What?!”

Various voices added to the din, shouting different things.

“Bolin did you really?!” Mako pointed up to the sky.

“What – no I did not. I’m not marrying – I mean,” Bolin swiftly turned to Opal. “I would like to marry you.” Then he shouted at Su and Baatar Senior’s direction. “But not now. One day but not now – I mean, I need to talk to Su and Baat – oh shit Su’s gonna kill me.”

Attention turned to Baatar and Suyin.

“Um no,” Baatar shrugged casually, an arm around his wife. “It’s not our anniversary anytime soon.”

Suyin was still being antsy. “Wing! Wei! Did any of you -?” She saw her twins wave up their arms in surrender, wildly shaking their heads as they each held a plate of food. “If that’s not you…”

“Kuvira and Junior –.” Wei.

“That is unlikely.” Wing.

“Huan?” Both Wing and Wei asked, everyone’s heads swiveled to the artistic Beifong.

“Excuse me.” Huan looked very offended, as though it was an insult that someone would be proposing to him in public.

Bumi’s face fell as the Beifongs present began arguing as to who the firework proposal was for and the actual Beifong who the proposal was meant for was nowhere to be seen.

Just then a soft squeal and a sniffle came from Kya’s side.

Pema was holding to her arm. “No-no-no – it’s for Lin, don’t you see? That’s why – Tenzin is leaving me.” Every other word was punctuated with a sniffle. “That’s why they’ve been talking over plans and that’s why – I saw them talk to Jinora the other day. Oh-airbenders-Tenzin is -leaaving me.”

“Ahem, I have an announcement!”

Now, everyone turned to stare back at the platform where Tenzin stood. Behind him, stood two more people - Lin Beifong stood in his shadows, arms crossed, a guard observing the proceedings, while Jinora stood to the side with a nervous smile, hands at her back.

“Ooohhhh!” Pema let out a wail.

“Shh, Pema!”

Bumi froze. There have been still some lingering insecurities that were in relation to his brother that would take a long time to tamp down. With the man’s whimpering wife at the side and his own significant other beside said man, it did not take much to wear Bumi down to his insecurities.

“This has been a long time coming and before anything else,” Tenzin paused at this to throw a significant look at his back. “I would like to say that this is no split second decision, we’ve talked about it and well –.”

No way he was going to let Tenzin take over his plan tonight.

“I will be stepping down soon with Jinora as my successor.”

“LinBeifong, will you marry me?”

Two voices rang into the night, clearly silencing any other words that might have been going on.

Bumi did not care for or did not mind what the reactions of the people around them were. He only had eyes for the earthbender who was gaping at him then looking back at the sky then back at him.

He worried the longer it took for Lin to react.

From his side, Pema sagged in relief against her sister-in-law while Jinora and Tenzin stood at the platform, greeting well-wishers.

Lin, meanwhile, was yet to do anything other than stand still.

“OH – we forgot the most eligible Beifong of today!” Bolin stated the obvious, pointing to the sky and back at Chief Beifong on the stage.

“What are you doing, go get her.” Kya nudged him from the back.

Bumi ran to the stage, almost tripping on his formal robes. “Lin – I’m so sorry – I didn’t think it would be this public – I -.” Lin hated public displays. “I ain’t doing this to pressure, I -.”

Lin gripped his arm to stop him from speaking.

The crowd went silent as Suyin could be heard shushing everyone (“Quiet! We need to hear what her answer is!”).

Bumi’s heart sank as Lin pulled away from him.

This is it. The Rejection.

He could only look to the ground, unwilling to face family, friends and even his former colleagues in the UF.

Suddenly there was a rumble on the ground as Lin extended a leg in front of her and she raised her arms slowly with a grunt.

“YES – BUMI – I – WILL – dear Agni – Liiiin is marrying Bumi!” Su’s shrill voice read out the words etched on the courtyard.

Tenzin groaned, mumbling about the destruction of his courtyard.

“Shut it, airhead. That courtyard has seen worse when you broke up with -.”

Nope, he did not want to hear about their break-up and so Bumi took Lin in his arms and planted a nice long kiss to seal the deal.

He pulled back and was met with a large grin on Lin’s face.

It might not have worked as he expected or planned it to be but at least, he could honestly say that it was -

Mission accomplished.

[lcnelyinthesky]

admiration - tsukishima kei

a/n: okay hi?? im ellie?? heres this??? i worked on it for like four? days?on and off? and its longer than any oneshot ive written but yk shes cute ig. pls be nice pls enjoy... but also my last piece got 2 notes and im really hopin in not shadowbanned here lmao

genre: fluff, angst, rivals to lovers!!

pairing: bisexual!female!reader x tsukishima kei (yes bi reader its a vibe)

warnings: a break up with a beautiful woman i made up myself, swearing

word count: 3.7k (ahhhh!!)

enjoy!! :D

Elementary second year. Your newly-assigned seat was next to a much taller, blond kid. He was smart and bright, rivaling the sun in terms of unbridled joy. Now, none of that can be seen by eight year old eyes, but looking back and comparing, it's easy to spot that he changed. 

Tsukishima Kei was an excitable kid, just as everyone was, but he was still snarky; his arrogance seemed to be something that just festered within his soul, no matter the trauma that brought it out. 

Childlike wonder is still alive and well at eight. 

The teacher you had back then was quite rude. She was pushy and angry, and she assigned way too much homework. Everything she uttered made you huff in disappointment, crossing your arms and hoping for some sort of reaction from someone. The kid next to you was named Koji--or, at least, that's what you called him. He was your best friend, spending every moment with you like you were siblings. You'd be able to crack a joke with the smallest glance and you’d talk constantly. As soon as your handwriting was legible to people of your age group, you'd pass notes back and forth and cackle at their contents. Until, of course,

“Tsukishima, will you switch seats with Kojikata today?” Your teacher sounded exhausted, huffing her sentence out on a sigh before going back to the multiplication tables on the board. Suddenly, your little world was interrupted.

“Y/N, right?” He didn’t look at you, placing his folders down on the desk and pushing his glasses back up as he sat. His words were hushed and quiet, but the class had moved into individual work--he wasn’t interrupting anyone.

“Yeah. Can I call you Tsukki?” You were angry, gripping your pencil tighter in your little hand as you wrote numbers down on white paper. One times one is one. Two times two is four. This is easy.

“No,” he was long doing the same thing, but writing quicker than you. That’s how it is, huh?

Three times two is six. Four times five is twenty. Six times three is eighteen. Five times six is thirty. This is easy-

“Miss, I’m done.” His voice was always so dry. Uninterested. 

Four times three is twelve. “Me too!” Your hand shot up with the paper in it, sending a death glare at the boy next to you.

That's how it is, huh?

This pattern continued for weeks. Tsukishima didn’t move from his seat next to you, as your teacher had made the realization that you worked far harder without friends around. Tsukishima lit a competitive fire under you; everything was now a race.

It started with handing in assignments. Who would go up to the front desk first to have their work checked over? Who would finish this quiz faster? Then it transferred into everything. 

Who would get to class faster? Who finished their lunch quicker? Who could read faster? Who scored higher on spelling tests? Who could run faster in gym class?

And then it was middle school.

Middle school brought in Yamaguchi Tadashi. 

It'd be an understatement to say he warmed to Yamaguchi quickly, but the basis behind that was strange. Tsukishima was never one for friends, even though everyone wanted to be friends with him. He was cool in the eyes of a handful of eleven year olds; letting everything roll off your back seemed to be an admirable trait. Yamaguchi worshipped him, and Tsukishima took him under his wing to teach him the ropes of being a cool kid.

At heart, though, Yamaguchi was kind and attentive. He could tell when things were going wrong, and supposedly it was him that changed the rest of your life.

The rivalry continued just as it had in elementary, just with higher stakes. You'd fight for answering questions first, working ahead of everyone else to just beat him. He’d never bat an eye at it, and sometimes you thought it was all over, but then

“Y/N.” Tsukishima Kei stood three steps behind you, looming over you with the height he was seemingly born with. The hallway was emptying by now, kids walking into their classrooms once again. The white floors rung with the quiet sounds of soft-bottomed shoes and a light above your head flickered calmly.

“Yeah?” You spun around to meet his gaze.

“What’d you get on that lit essay?”

“A 96. Why?”

“No reason,” he smirked and tilted his head up, looking down at you, “I got a 100.”

A huff and a stomp away gave him the answer he needed as he followed you into the classroom, sitting down behind you and next to Yamaguchi just as he did every day. The little shit.

Tsukishima was never better than you, technically speaking. On average and on paper, you were always both roughly the same. You'd fight for being top of the class, the position switching between both of you every day. You excelled in creative things while he excelled at sports, but both of you dabbled in the other. When people in your year began dating, everyone came to assume you two were. It was embarrassing, really, because Tsukishima Kei was a little shit know-it-all who will never beat me at anything ever and people need to stop thinking he will because he won’t I’m better than hi-

“Hey?” Oh right. Friends.

“Koji!” He never left, at least not yet. His nimble fingers tapping on your shoulder brought you back to reality, making you jump and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his body for a split second.

“You looked zoned” his face was riddled with concern that was easy to write off.

“Oh, whoops” a small blush heated your cheek as your hand migrated to rub your neck. “Did you want something?”

As you walked into the classroom a bit further, Koji sat on your right; he seemed to buckle down more when you had moved away from each other way back in the day, so there were less mid-class comedy shows. He grew up just as you had, and with the closeness of the two of you people began to think you were dating. At twelve, it was incredibly necessary to date someone--anyone. Theories bounced from everywhere and anywhere and with you it was either your best friend or your biggest rival. Your lack of attraction to either of them became the center of many late night crises. 

“Not particularly,” his gaze switched from you to the board again, beginning to write something down when he turned his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Of course I am,” you smiled at him, the kind of smile that made your eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly it was high school.

-

“Tsukishima is really cute! And he's smart, I heard that Kageyama wasn’t too bright somewhere.”

“But Kageyama’s so much hotter! His being a little dumb sometimes is endearing.”

“Are we not going to talk about that third year setter, Sugawara?”

“No, he’d never go for a first year. Besides, that Hinata kid is more of an enigma.”

“Have you even seen them play?” A howl of angry “yes”s fell over the crowd, trying to prove something. None of them had ever seen them play.

That asshole Tsukishima getting popular felt like a stab in the soul. None of them knew him or how much he sucked, but the amount of girls fawning over him was horrific.

-

There's something consistently poetic about young love, no matter where it comes from. Something extra sweet about holding pinkies in school corridors when no one is looking and seeing them every day, smiling loudly as the sun broke over the horizon all bright and early. The raging hormones and dumb, fake social hierarchies of fifteen make emotions run wild, and only the deeply immature end up helplessly infatuated. Others are more cautious, but there's only so many precautions one can take at fifteen. Sometimes some of us just want to be loved, no matter the sincerity of it.

Cared for, and whatnot. No harm in that, in the long run at least. 

“Y/N, right?” Her name was Mei. She was in your class; 1-4, just like Tsukishima. She was pretty. Long, black hair was preceded by two green streaks at the front. She’d always have those down, making her features look like a photo in a perfect frame. She had a collection of hair clips with small shapes on them that she’d have somewhere on her person at all times. Her more mid-sized body was paler than most, and she was covered in freckles and moles. Her eyes were an unusual shade of blue that looked deep enough to swim in. Her cheeks were always stained with a peachy blush that moved up her collarbones and into her ears, making her look like she was always smiling no matter what her face was doing. Karasuno’s school uniform did wonders for her curves, the skirt swaying up on occasion and making her look so damn perfect.

“Yeah! You’re…” a second of dumbfounded pause felt like years in your mind, coming to the conclusion that she was the most beautiful girl you had ever met. “Ojiro Mei?”

“Yep! I just wanted to tell you you looked really pretty today!” Her voice always had an upward inflection, and was higher than most. It was cute. Incredibly cute.

“Oh.” A moment of confidence fell over you like you weren’t in control of your actions, “you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you very much,” she bounced back on her toes and then rolled back to her heels, hands intertwined behind her back, “You’re too kind, Y/N.” Her sentences were always punctuated with an eye-crinkling smile.

Later that day, you found her on every social media account you could; she messaged you first.

When you don’t know you’re interested in women, it’s hard to notice that they’re flirting with you, but after a handful of supposed gay panic, you asked her on a date.

She was two inches shorter than you, and somehow that persisted no matter what shoes she was wearing. Every small outing with her felt like cloud nine--watching the sunset, small conversation over tea at a nearby cafe, cuddling in your bedroom with only a string of Christmas lights on. She always looked so wonderful in soft lighting, the potential cold of winter disappeared with pale beiges that made her freckles look like stars. Every action Mei ever did was soft and full of care. She could send every single emotion through her fingertips on your jaw, deepening a kiss you started moments before. She was like magic, until she wasn't anymore.

You supposed, when thinking back, that things fell out around month thirteen. The rose colored lenses everything was viewed through faded a bit, and it's easy to notice her pulling away. There were less late night phone calls and less recommended music and less hands running through your hair. Everything has a natural progression to the end, right?

“Do you still feel it?” It was raining. Large drops of water fell down to the floor, smacking the pavement at speeds you couldn’t even try to measure. She was wearing a bright yellow raincoat that looked almost dull in the four pm light. 

“Feel what?”

“Anything, baby.” All of her words ended with a huffed out sigh, like she was tired of something. Lying, maybe. 

You pondered the question, and it seemed like your hesitation gave her all the answer she needed. 

“Ya know, Y/N.” She looked down and grabbed your hands with hers, rubbing her thumbs on your palms as you grabbed around them. “This was fun. We had a good run.”

A solemn tear fell down your cheek at the ending, but there was no use in self pity or anger now. She was so sweet and kind, and it's truly unthinkable how she continued that kindness in the end.

“Yeah. A good run.” The pink in your cheeks grew as you choked out a laugh, pulling her in for one final hug under the dim fluorescent lights on the front door overhang of the school.

Fifteen came and went with love, and when sixteen rolled around you wondered if you’d ever be loved like that again.

-

A spirit can't be broken overnight, and if you’ve spent the last eight years of your life having a strong, consistent rivalry with someone, it won’t leave any time soon. Tsukishima and you were on similar playing fields for most of your life, but you had one thing he didn’t: relationship experience. In that way, you always counted yourself one point higher, like a boy scout badge. 

For a spell, however, your intensity changed. There was nothing more driving you than spite, and there was nothing you wanted more than to beat him. You were well into your second year of high school at this point, and--volleyball notwithstanding--you had wins over Tsukishima. You had seen him play volleyball, every match in his second year, and you deemed he was simply okay. You refused to count his success onto the list of wins for both of you.

June fifteenth. Tournaments were coming up around the corner when it happened, which explained every reason why he was there. You weren’t exactly prepared for the rain, so the best bet seemed to be sitting at the front entrance of Karasuno High School and wallowing in a little bit more self pity before you went home. You were just dumped after all, the tears weren’t done falling. 

The feeling between sadness and shame overflowed you, shades of yellowish green painting the world around you and churning your gut into oblivion. And the tears fell. It felt like a scene in a movie; in a few seconds, a strong, capable man would show up to your rescue.

“Y/N?” what the fuck?

He was sweaty. His face was matte from a light film of saltwater. He had a grey umbrella over his head, keeping himself dry from the still-pelting rain. His six-foot-two frame was covered with a black tracksuit, and he still had his sports goggles on.

Those fucking sports goggles.

“Tsukishima.” you deadpanned, trying to get him away as fast as possible. His words were snarky, as always, but this time laced with concern. Like he actually cared.

“What are you still doing here? It’s almost six,” he stood under the overhang with you, crouching to take a few feet off of his incredible height. 

“Sulking?”

“Ah,” he huffed and sat down next to you, “it’s not great for your posture, ya know.”

“Oh shut up, Tsukishima.”

“Remember when we were eight,” he looked up, studying the moths as they flew around the lights on the ceiling, “and you asked if you could call me Tsukki?”

“Vaguely, but we were eight.”

“Yeah, true” his head dramatically fell to his lap, staring at his knees as he chuckled, “but you can. Call me Tsukki, that is.”

An uncomfortable laugh fell from your lips, and he spoke for you, “this one kid, Koganegawa, the setter on Date Tech, calls me that too. It's not a Tadashi-only nickname anymore.”

“You say Tadashi-only like I wasn’t there first.”

“He never asked.”

“Would you have said no?”

“Probably” he hasn’t actually looked at you yet. 

“Should I not have asked?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Okay, Tsukki” you drew out the last letter, giggling at the situation before you had time to think about your emotions.

He noticed that you weren’t crying anymore and helped you stand, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. Tsukishima and you lived closer than you thought, walking the same direction and only splitting up seconds away from your home.

You walked in silence the whole time, but it was comfortable. While he was your rival, he was always a friend. There was nothing scary or intimidating about him, as is with most people when you’ve known them forever; it was almost like his facade just didn’t work on you. You were huddled close to him to stay out of the rain. 

The second you parted ways, you ran home. The rain was more of a drizzle now, but the temperature began a free fall--getting out of the cold as fast as possible was your first priority. Upon entering the front door and taking off your shoes and jacket, leaving everything to sit in the entryway, you took a shower. The rain didn’t do enough to wash away the pain of the day, and warm steam would let the rest evaporate. The expected unrelenting sadness wasn’t really present as much as was expected, though. Everything felt fine. Content. Okay.

-

And it continued that way. He sent you a snapchat asking if you had gotten home safely, which prompted a memory of you never giving each other your phone numbers. After a quick yes, tsukki. no need to worry ;), you sent him your number asking to play some game.

Whatever is meant to happen does, right? Any excuse for falling for him. You didn’t want to, of course, but things happen. Time changes. Thus, the excuses. Thus, the ignorance. Thus, the five stages of grief. 

It started with the denial, because no Y/N you can’t like Tsukishima Kei. He’s so competitive and mean and snarky and horrible and you hate him! Then, the anger, because Tsukishima sucks and he’s horrible and you’re going to punch him in his stupid cute face. Next, the bargaining, because please don’t let this be happening you’ll do anything to lose these feelings, even if it means letting him win at something. Going into the depression, because all you’ve ever wanted was to be free of this assclown and now you’re stuck thinking about him at three in the morning when you’re supposed to be dreaming about anything other than him. And finally, acceptance, when you scowl at him in the hallway because fuck, you like Tsukishima Kei.

The worst bit of acceptance is getting over it. Now you had to confront your feelings. Now you needed to tell him. 

It was roughly five months since he found you sulking on school grounds, and you regretted most days the way you let him text you every morning. It’d always be something stupid, like a joke about the novel you were reading in lit or sometimes he’d tell you, off hand, something dumb Hinata and Kageyama did at practice. Sometimes he’d text you, within the first twenty minutes of the school day, pointing out something little you did with your hair. They were never really compliments as much as comments; he’d say “your socks have a pink ring at the top” and give you nothing to work with from there. A simple yes would suffice, you always supposed, because “yes, tsukki. they do.”

He’d linger at his desk during the break between classes and would stay there if you didn’t leave, but would leave a few steps behind you if you did. He wouldn’t follow you, but he’d watch to know where you were going. Everything he did was concealed though--you'd only notice if you really wanted to know.

Yamaguchi was the only one to notice, even after a while of it. You’ll never know what he said to his friend, but the conversation you had with the aforementioned friend a day later gives some guesses.

“Y/N?” Tsukishima was never the shy type, and you knew him in the days where everyone was shy. He wasn’t loud, but he was bold. His words were always pointed and important. Everything he did always had purpose and intensity behind it.

“Tsukki?” You were sitting under a tree, enjoying the late spring weather of the beginning of your third year. Nothing became intense yet classwork wise, so there was ample time to chill on the school grounds. Overlooking the soccer field was a large oak tree. It was big enough to comfortably have multiple groups of people under its shade, but it was empty at the moment; save for you and the book you were reading.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to maybe go out sometime?” He somehow didn’t pause while talking, but his words came out more something akin to word vomit. You we’re more shocked than you should have been, if you had picked up on the signs. But you were feeling the same as he was, as far as you could tell.

“Sure, when?” You looked back down at your book for a second, placing the bookmark in it and folding the pages shut.

Tsukishima looked dumbfounded, standing there with his eyes bugged out and his mouth slightly agape. He started making unintelligible babbling noises, hoping to get something out that had any meaning at all. You took the reins instead, gaining confidence in his lack thereof.

“I was planning on getting coffee or something today after school. It gets really cold at night now, huh?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Would you like to join me?”

“There's a break before practice today so” he hesitated, letting the pink in his cheeks finally catch up to the beating in his chest. “Sure.”

You wouldn’t have ever pegged Tsukishima Kei as the flustered type.

-

There was never a drop in conversation, as there never really was between you two. A whole life together and you still had things to talk about, mentioning everything from your individual childhoods to recent developments. Turns out he never knew what genre of books were your favorite. Or what kind of music you listened to. Or what any of your hobbies were. 

Turns out you both had more in common than you thought, competitive spirits notwithstanding. Tsukishima Kei was a strange man in every sense of the word. He was arrogant and snarky and disinterested and bright and passionate and smart. He was your rival, smug look plastered on his smug face making your chest bubble in anger just as it had a million times before--or was that admiration this time? The world may never know. 

All that was real right now was the deck of cards on the table, being separated out into a card game both of you learned as kids. The small, round, cafe table shook with every slap of your hands, but the basis of your relationship would always be competition. It's just that now the anger behind that competition was gone. All that was left was admiration.