#this is a strange group i know but there is long and complicated reasons for all of them

[master-missysversion]

Self indulgent fantasy where all the child versions of the character get pulled from time and get to play in a park together

[sixosix]

and his voice is a familiar sound | scaramouche

forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting, humor, kissing and tension. suggestive implications and suggestive humor, a bit of scara’s mommy issues, wc 5k

ft. a down bad jealous bf scaramouche, bffs heizou and kazuha, and aether bc aether always has to be there

“If I ask you to come with us for a vacation, would you say yes?”

Your bedroom was already too cramped for one person, with what you could afford with your money after quitting your part-time job. It made it incredibly difficult for all parties involved when you invited someone over, especially when that person had no concept of personal space. You barely looked up from the pages of your book, humming halfheartedly to whatever Heizou is saying. You heard vacation and instantly decided to not waste your time.

Heizou must have sensed these thoughts, too, because he forces himself into your field of view by nearly climbing over your lap. “Hey, look at me. Would you say yes?”

“Heizou!” you hissed, pushing him off before Heizou could wrinkle the pages of the book that’s definitely overdue for borrowing time. You started to think about taking another part-time job if your friends kept inviting themselves over and invading your personal space.

Heizou looked at you, his face doing a complicated combination of a frown and a smug grin. “Come on. You never join us on trips…”

“For good reason,” you said, gesturing to the lapful of Heizou you are currently getting bombarded with.

“You’re so mean,” Heizou laughed, thankfully getting off your lap. He refused to let go of you, however, immediately wrapping an arm over your shoulder and pressing up against your side. This must be one of his techniques to make the people he was questioning feel restricted. It was working. “How will you get yourself to settle for a nice, young man with that attitude? What are you even reading?”

“I grabbed whatever book had a pleasing cover so I can tune your nonsense out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“What?” Heizou clapped the book shut and turned to you with the eyes of a reprimanding mother. “I swear I’m being serious. Can’t you consider it for even a minute? You’re breaking my heart. Plus, Kazuha’s the one who’s inviting us out.”

Hmm. What a compelling argument. Heizou knew that no one could ever say no to Kazuha. You wouldn’t really care if your absence would break Heizou’s heart, but Kazuha’s disappointed eyes were enough to put a god to their knees.

You zeroed in on Heizou’s wording. “Who’s ‘us’?”

Heizou started listing each with a raise of a finger. “Just Kazuha and Aether—and a friend we met recently. Kazuha invited him.”

You frowned. You didn’t know Aether visited again. “How the hell did Aether get invited?” Then, upon careful reflection: “And who’s the new friend?”

“If he was around, why not, right?” Heizou laughed, carefully setting the overdue book aside from your view. “The new friend’s Scaramouche. Have you met him before?”

What a strange name. Kazuha always managed to befriend people from all over, like a child bringing home turtles and a new species of bugs. You made a note to look him up. “Never heard of him.”

He hummed. “Said he came from Sumeru but he looked pretty Inazuman to me. Funny guy. He’s like a disgruntled baby brother.”

“And you only met him, what, recently? Why is he invited to our group already?” you asked, like the territorial person you are. How come it seemed like you were the last to know about this guy?

Aether was alright. Aether came back every few months to check up on everyone and got roped into all kinds of things with your friends, so you knew him well enough already. You liked his long braid. Heizou and Kazuha had been your friends for as long as you could remember being a college student.

Heizou grinned, patting your head. “Scaramouche’s nice, I promise. You wouldn’t even notice he’s there.”

At your dubious stare, Heizou amended, “C’mon, do you think I’m the type to befriend an asshole?”

Yes, but Heizou wasn’t the type to befriend a major asshole whose opinions he vehemently disagreed with, and he thought belonged better in jail, so you had to think about it for a bit. At the very least, this new guy didn’t seem like a criminal.

Your friends loved traveling, with Kazuha mostly being the culprit, but you liked staying inside most of the time. They never forced you to go with them, so why was Heizou being suspiciously persistent today?

“I think he’s your type,” Heizou finally said, caving in.

“You’re trying to hook me up with him?”

“Not exactly… but you two would seem cute.” He went silent for a thoughtful moment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed if you slept together.”

You made a face.

Heizou laughed brightly. “Alright, alright. You can go back to being the good poster student you are if you promise to think about it. Seriously. Kazuha’s moving to Liyue soon—he’s probably inviting us out because of that.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, reaching around for your book.

You would. What Heizou said about Kazuha made you remember that there are only a few weeks left until this is all over—then, after that, you all might go your separate ways. That thought floated around your mind for a little while as Heizou made himself comfortable on your bed, sighing before he dozed off.

You sighed, shuffling to give him space. “If this is your way of trying to make me get laid, try to at least be subtle and not weird me out before I even meet the guy.”

You stalked Kazuha’s Insta to search up this Scaramouche guy and nearly dropped your phone.

scaramouche11206. It was empty, entirely useless for your research. Scaramouche’s profile was a public account, had zero posts, and had four people he was following. It was Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, and a Vahumana Darshan update page.

You checked the tagged posts, and your jaw dropped to the ground.

Scaramouche was Kunikuzushi.

Heizou was taking a group selfie in the image, his tongue stuck out and winking while the camera showed two other men. On the left was Kazuha, with his ever-polite smile, then on the other, with the all-black getup was what the tags said was scaramouche11206.

It was a little difficult to tell why you were enamoured with the masked face with a short hime cut for a moment, but the piercing stare to the camera couldn’t be mistaken. It was a minute of staring before it clicked. This was your Kunikuzushi.

You dialed Heizou before you could even think about it.

“What…? It’s five a.m.” He sounded like he just woke up, “What’s up?”

You swiped back to the image of Scaramouche, as if staring at it any longer would imprint each pixel to your brain and bring him to life before you. “Hey, where’s Kazuha? Tell him I’m going.”

YEARS AGO.

Summer. The cicadas rang in your ears. They chirped about as you and Kunikuzushi trudged further into the forest. Sunlight peeked through the leaves, splashing Kunikuzushi’s beautiful face in a delicate glow.

Komorebi. Shadows scattered on the ground. Kunikuzushi lifted his head and turned to you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His voice was quiet, but even with the wind and the singing cicadas, you could hear him loud and clear. You could pick out his voice from a crowd. Your heart would know where to find him.

“I like looking at you,” you said. “I like you.”

He accepted the answer and continued walking. You beamed. Usually, Kunikuzushi would scoff and bat your words away, hiding his flustered face. But he didn’t.

Longing. Kunikuzushi turned back to you, stopping in his steps. You nearly bumped onto his back. “Do you like me enough to marry me?”

Was this a marriage proposal? You tried to think of you and Kunikuzushi, walking down aisles and reciting vows, and almost laughed. But then you tried to think of anyone else. You tried to think of a life without Kunikuzushi.

You thought of Kunikuzushi with anyone else and nearly threw up in his face. “You’re the only one for me.”

“Even if I hurt you?”

You frowned. “You would never hurt me, Kuni.”

Kunikuzushi’s expression crumpled. He could never hide anything from you; he was too expressive, eyes round and lip trembling. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You reached for his hands and forced him to look at you. “Kuni, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

He looked at the ground. “I said I didn’t want to live with her anymore. I didn’t really think Mom would make Aunt Nahida take me.”

The cicadas faded. The world fell into a hush. Your grip on his hands grew weak. “What?”

Kunikuzushi didn’t have a good relationship with his mother; you knew that. They were complicated. They always fought and he grew up to loathe her. You knew that. But you didn’t think…

You breathed in deeply. It was not Kunikuzushi’s fault. It was not Ei’s—and definitely not Nahida’s fault. It was just the way things go sometimes.

You forced a laugh, hoping to ease the troubled expression on his face. “Were you proposing because you’re moving away?”

Kunikuzushi blushed. “Shut up.”

Your face softened. He was always so cute when his face was as red as the red by his eyes.

Kunikuzushi inhaled sharply, taking your hands and looking at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “If I were going to ask you out, I would do it better than anyone who would try to marry you. So don’t entertain them.”

The trip’s plan was basically swimming when you could, staying at a hotel, driving out of the hotel to eat somewhere cheaper, and it would be stretched out for a few days. All in all, it didn’t sound too bad. With the type of people you were going out with, you were expecting a lot more drinking (Kazuha) and near-death-related activities (Aether). Although Heizou said it was Kazuha’s trip, he was apparently mistaken.

“It was originally for Scaramouche and his family, but his mother had last-minute changes and couldn’t go,” Kazuha explained as he helped you fit your luggage in the trunk of Aether’s car. “Scaramouche said it would be a waste and told me to invite my friends.”

“Woo-hoo, Scaramouche’s mom!” Heizou cheered.

“When we met her, it seemed like you hated her,” Kazuha mused as Heizou climbed inside the car. You were in the passenger seat while the two were shoved in the back. It seemed that even if you moved to a bigger apartment, you’d end up suffocated by Inazuman men either way.

“Hard not to after hearing Scara’s contempt for her. I’m an empath or something.” 

Aether adjusted the side mirrors. “Are we forgetting anything?”

“Where’s the Scaramouche guy?” you asked.

Heizou cast you a sly smile. “He’s already at the hotel, probably buying us other rooms.”

At least another thing about him hadn’t changed: he’s still disgustingly rich. You did some digging about the hotel, and it was the kind of place you could only dream of even looking at. You suddenly felt severely underdressed for a five-star hotel, with only sweatpants, a duffle bag, and a dream.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Kazuha said, and weirdly enough, you caught him looking at you curiously from the sideview mirror.

“No?” Heizou crossed his arms behind his head. “I doubt Scaramouche’s the type to willingly share a room with anyone.”

Aether scoffed, laughing under his breath. “Definitely not with us.”

You looked outside to hide a smile. It seemed that your Kunikuzushi hadn’t really changed drastically. This made you feel better about meeting him again.

“What made you change your mind?” Heizou asked.

You sighed and fell into step along with him as Kazuha and Aether went on ahead. There are families crowding the lobby, draped in gold that matched the fabric of the chandeliers overhead. Their jewelry was brighter than your future. Even the floor smelled expensive.

“Scaramouche did,” you mumbled.

Heizou’s brows lifted to his hairline. “Oh?”

“I mean—I don’t know, I’m not sure yet.” You were absolutely sure, but it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t recognize you at all, and Heizou would think you were just lying. It had been years.

Heizou tilted his head. “Well, whatever it is, I’m rooting for you. And if he fucks up, I know how to pack a punch.”

You didn’t doubt it. Heizou definitely knew how to pack a punch.

The hotel was so fancy and so meant for only rich kids that you and Heizou stood out like sore thumbs by looking around. Some woman your age walked past, her chin high and her steps light. You and Heizou looked at each other, then tried to mimic the same grace as you pair sashayed towards the desk.

“What are you idiots doing?” Aether asked as you reached them.

“Fitting in, unlike you,” Heizou said.

A new voice cut in. “Took you losers long enough.”

Scaramouche turned around after speaking to the clerk, his mouth in a thin line and his stare piercing. He also stood out next to the men in polo with his fingerless gloves and gold rings. He looked like he belonged better on an Inazuman fashion magazine cover than on a hotel vacation with a bunch of losers.

Heizou beamed. “Scara!”

“Hey,” Scaramouche said, then his eyes landed on you.

It was hard to tell if there was any reaction on his face because Heizou went up to him to ruffle his hair, stealing away his attention.

“Thanks for inviting us out. I didn’t know you were the type to want to snuggle with his friends.” Heizou waggled his eyebrows as Scaramouche pushed him away with a hand to Heizou’s face.

Scaramouche wrinkled his nose. “I am not sharing a room with any of you three. You snore, Kazuha snores louder, and I would wake up to Aether’s leg on my stomach the next morning.”

“That was one time,” Aether muttered, blushing.

“How many rooms are reserved?” Kazuha asked.

Scaramouche sighed, craning his neck. He had a really nice side profile. “Still two. The other one with a king and the other with two queens. I was supposed to have the first, but you didn’t tell me you were inviting someone else. This shithole’s booked full now.”

Your gaze fluttered away as they all turned to you. You bit your lip, frowning. Did Scaramouche not recognize you? He was acting like he didn’t. He was treating you like he would any stranger. That upset you, but for the entire car ride, you were also preparing for it. It probably would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself.

Heizou grinned, slinging an arm over Scaramouche’s shoulder. “I suppose you have no choice but to share a bed with us.”

“No.” Scaramouche picked up his luggage and started rolling away. “Heizou, Kazuha, Aether, you share the king.”

The three men turned to you instead, surprise visible in their expressions. It was exactly because Scaramouche decided to share a room with you, whom he never acknowledged since you arrived.

You wanted to protest. If Scaramouche didn’t recognize you and opted for a choice that didn’t involve sharing a room with anyone, you’d rather sleep on the floor in Kazuha and the others’ room. But Scaramouche was already stepping inside the elevator and was holding the door for you.

You held your gaze to the floor the entire time as Scaramouche pointed at a room and told the three they would sleep there. Scaramouche flashed the card against the door of your room, then stepped inside.

“This one’s ours,” Scaramouche said. You couldn’t detect any hint of emotion.

The room was bigger than the two rooms at your apartment. It had two beds, as Scaramouche said, and a TV across. The room was cold as fuck. You shuddered, and Scaramouche remained unbothered with his layers of clothes that probably cost more than you.

As Scaramouche set his luggage on the bed closest to the window, you gathered the courage to not make this trip any more awkward.

You breathed in deeply. “I’m Y/N—”

“I haven’t forgotten.” He arched an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Have you forgotten about me?”

“No, no, of course not,” you said. “I could never forget you, Kunikuzushi.”

You stiffened, thinking it was a mistake and there must’ve been a reason he was called by another name, but you took a look at him and got distracted. His face relaxed when you said his name.

I could never forget you. It was sickeningly true. You can never forget about Kunikuzushi. He was your first love. He was so cute with his wide eyes; and he was very clingy, too, which made him all the more endearing.

But looking at the present Kunikuzushi, with his intense stare and permanently bored expression, he was hot, and you started to think that maybe your type was just Kunikuzushi.

Horror settled in your stomach as Scaramouche flashed a wicked grin.

“Then you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me, would you?”

“He said what?” Heizou cackled, hitting the wall as he threw his head back, laughing.

Scaramouche meant it as sleeping in the same room, but he could have— no, should have worded it better. Scaramouche laid down on his bed right after and went on his phone as if he didn’t say anything at all. You blurted some half-baked excuse and left the room to cry about it in your friends’ room.

When Scaramouche said their room was assigned a king bed, you didn’t expect it to fit five people—and Scaramouche said he wanted it for himself? The bed was incredibly big, almost in a lonely way. You have never seen an Alaskan king bed before, but now, sitting on the edge of it, felt as if you could fit your entire apartment on it.

Kazuha was in between Heizou and Aether, their backs resting on the headboard. They were about to sleep, too, but as soon as you burst in, they settled into position and listened intently. Except Aether, kind of; he was texting his sister, who was demanding a room tour.

“I never thought he would be this bold. I mean, demanding to share a room the moment he laid his eyes on you? Wow,” Heizou said, looking terribly criminal with his expression.

“It is surprising,” Kazuha mused. “I’ve witnessed how women flock to his feet and how he bat them all off like he never saw them.”

An unpleasant feeling washed over, which was weird because why would you be upset? Of course they’d flock to him—with a face like that. He had the looks and the personality that would garner him a lot of masochistic fans if he were a character in a drama.

“Does that happen a lot?” The way you spat it out spelled exactly how upset you are.

“No need to get so jealous, now. After that display, I’m positive that he wants as much as you want him,” Heizou laughed, falling forward and resting his elbows on the mattress. He moved his chin to his palm. He looked like he was going to ask if you wanted to paint nails and curl hairs the next second.

Your face felt hot. What was this conversation? You’d much prefer painting nails than talking about this. “I don’t want him!”

Heizou arched an eyebrow. “No?”

Even Kazuha looked doubtful, which was enough of a blow.

“I’m just confused,” you insisted. “You know what happens when you’re in a room alone with an objectively attractive guy? You get confused.”

“I get it,” Aether said, setting his phone aside to share his insight. “This is your sexual awakening.”

“What? No!”

“It definitely is,” Heizou agreed. “Why else are you crying about this to us?”

There was a sense of impending doom at realizing that Heizou was brewing some horrible, horrible thoughts in that head of his. “To stop feeding into my madness!”

Heizou clicked his tongue. “How do you think he feels? His childhood best friend came back to his life looking like that—I’m surprised he hasn't eaten you right up yet.”

You didn’t know what was more horrifying: Heizou implying he thought you were hot, or him implying that he thought Scaramouche thought you were hot.

Your face must’ve looked like a constipated mix between flustered and horrified; Kazuha chimed in to tell Heizou, “You should be more careful with your words. I’ve never met anyone as possessive as Scaramouche.”

“It’s already a miracle he even remembers me. He wouldn’t get jealous. I doubt he actually wants me that way,” you sighed.

“Oh, but you want him that way?” Heizou asked.

You wanted to slap that expression off Heizou’s face. “Of course I do. He was so cute when we were little—I already liked him then. I didn’t think he’d grow up to be so…”

“Sexual awakening,” Aether said again.

“Ow,” Aether whined when you hit him square on the head.

Reluctantly, you returned to your room. Heizou, Kazuha, and Aether told you to get your shit together and face this not-sexual-awakening like a man. Kazuha didn’t say it, but you could feel that he was also thinking it. And if he ever said it out loud, you’d tell him to go fuck off to Liyue already.

Scaramouche was awake. The door clicked shut, and you faintly felt like those heroines locking themselves up in a room to hook up with someone who they didn’t think was the murderer on the front page right now.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

You tried not to let your surprise show, but Scaramouche was staring so intently that you would’ve failed miserably either way. “The other room.”

The longer you looked at him, the more you realized that Kunikuzushi felt like a fever dream. Being only a few feet away from the guy you used to be so fond of, now grown and had an air of haughtiness that would’ve been a turn-off had it been anyone else— it was doing things to you.

“Are you scared of me?”

You laughed and nearly choked on it when registering that Scaramouche was still looking. It wasn’t something like embarrassment. It was more like laughing unabashedly and then sensing that your hallway crush walked past. Maybe it was a bit of embarrassment.

“No. No, I’m not scared.” You moved to sit on your bed, eyes trained on the wall. “You didn’t tell me you were back.”

“You changed your number. You moved out.”

“Oh.” You did do that. Your apartment was very far from your home.

“And I figured you forgot about me or wanted to forget about me because of what I did to you.”

“Oh.” You wanted to say that he didn’t affect you that much. Life goes on; you meet new people and lose them every day, and all that. But Scaramouche was affecting you that much, especially when he’s only a few feet away from you, looking like he wanted you to pounce him.

Scaramouche grinned lopsidedly. “But I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

What the hell does that mean? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he figure it out? Were you that obvious with your thoughts about pouncing?

Scaramouche stood up from his bed, moving towards yours slowly. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

You tried to avoid getting too close by leaning back, but he kept drawing his face closer, bending towards you. You’re one last tilt away from him pinning you down on the bed.

“No,” you blurted before you could even think about it. It was a little difficult to think about anyone else when you were a breath away from kissing. “Why?”

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, electric indigo. “Do you still have a crush on me?”

“You’re asking too many questions.”

“We’re catching up. This is how it works, doesn’t it?”

No, it was definitely not how this worked. Your neck was starting to ache with this awkward angle, and he hadn’t even answered your question.

“Do you?” he repeated, hovering above you.

You gave up on the painful angle and laid flat on the bed, frowning up at him. You crossed your arms to achieve the stance of someone who will not back down easily. “How are you so sure I even had a crush on you?”

“You’re telling me I’m wrong?”

What was this? Some fucked up game of 21 questions, but Scaramouche was too high and mighty to follow the rules? You didn’t know what to say to that. You wisely decided to stay silent, glaring up at him.

You probably didn’t look intimidating at all. Scaramouche smiled, much less sharper. Almost fond as his eyes flicked down to somewhere below your nose. “Am I still the only one for you?”

Okay. You would back down easily if he kept looking at you like that.

“You didn’t hurt me, Kuni.” You sighed. “You never could.”

Scaramouche straightened, his face carefully blank. It was much harder to read him like this. You sat up, wanting to ask if it was the wrong thing to say. You couldn’t get the words out because he lunged for a kiss.

You might have gasped. You might have made some embarrassing noise while a laugh rumbled from the back of Scaramouche’s throat. But that was all thrown out the window the moment your eyes fluttered shut and you lost yourself in the sensation of his warm mouth on yours.

He pushed closer, and you were pulled back on the mattress, his arms on either side of your head. Your eyes flew open when Scaramouche nipped at your lip. As if suddenly remembering where and who you were, you forced his chest back and gaped.

“What?” He looked irritated you interrupted him.

“At least say it back!”

“You didn’t even say it,” Scaramouche said, one eyebrow raised.

“I like you, Kunikuzushi.”

Scaramouche turned red and then looked humbled that you saw it. “I still like you, too.”

You looked at him up and down. You asked, but you didn’t want to hear the answer. “And you didn’t have anyone while you were in Sumeru?”

“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed. “You think anyone there was worth my time? You think I’d settle for less than you?” He scowled. “How about you? Nevermind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I’d do it better than any of them.”

You laughed, tugging him close with your arms around his neck. If anyone were to come in, they would assume the worst. Then again, maybe Scaramouche had plans to indulge in the worst.

wake up! let’s eat breakfast at the restaurant we saw yesterday!

ask scaramouche. so he can pay for us

Despite the freedom and space of lying on separate queen beds, you and Scaramouche were huddled and pressed close. And despite books in your bag, you were occupied with huddling and pressing close against Scaramouche. You were lying on his chest while he had an arm resting on your stomach.

As soon as Heizou’s texts appeared on the top banner of your screen, you looked up, and Scaramouche looked like he was going to murder someone.

“It’s a joke, probably,” you said. “They don’t see you as a wallet.”

“It’s not a joke,” Scaramouche said. “I don’t really care about that. You and Heizou close?”

“He’s the one who introduced me to Kazuha and the others.” You sat up from the comfortable position and stretched.

“So you’re close.”

“Oh, very much so.” Then you laughed at Scaramouche’s thunderous expression. “Idiot. Why are you jealous? He’s not the one I’m sharing a room with and was making out with last night.”

Scaramouche’s gaze cut down to your neck. He looked extremely pleased.

You and Scaramouche took the elevator down, holding hands throughout. You felt a little giddy. What must this look like to everyone else? They’d all assume you were out with your boyfriend. As you reached your friends, Aether had just started the car. Kazuha slipped into the passenger seat, and Heizou waved at the both of you.

Then Heizou gasped. Aether turned to you and gasped as well.

“What happened to you? You look like you were mauled by a tiger,” Aether asked, scandalized.

“If the tiger had a short hime cut and a thick wallet, maybe,” Heizou mused. You flipped him off and climbed inside the car. Heizou laughed and sat beside you.

Aether frowned. “What kind of tiger would that be?”

You groaned, burying your face in your palms and wishing that lightning would strike you down. You needed coffee. Or a beer. Maybe if you bat your eyelashes and kissed him on the lips, Scaramouche would buy you bottles of wine.

As if summoned by your thoughts, a figure forced himself in between you and Heizou. Scaramouche worked fast. He glared at Heizou and tugged you away from him.

Heizou’s eyes went wide. “What’d I do?”

“Know your place, Shikanoin,” Scaramouche said. You just wanted to at least not be half-sitting on his lap, but he was proving a point and didn’t let you budge.

Kazuha smiled. “I warned you, Heizou.”

“Damn,” Heizou said. He looked exhausted. He was the one who suggested you and Scaramouche hook up in the first place—did he not expect his intuition to be right this time? “Didn’t take you for the clingy type. Two more days of this?”

“This is not some fling,” Scaramouche hissed. “You think I don’t take this seriously?”

You smiled as your heart fluttered. Scaramouche could be so unintentionally sweet sometimes, not that you’d tell it to his face, because he would grumble and hide his face. You rather liked his face. It was pretty, and you knew that if you tugged his hood down, you’d see a bruise on his neck as well.

“Didn’t take him for a romantic as well,” Kazuha said, thoroughly entertained.

“Wait, are you actually a thing now?” Aether made a face. “What the hell happened in that room?”

Scaramouche smirked. “You sure you wanna know?”

a/n it was already so hard for me to not turn it into a heizou fic dude. That entire first part was so unnecessary i was just hopelessly infatuated. BUT ANYWAY!!1 thank you so much for reading i hope u liked it <3 if u do, leave a comment or a reblog so i can see your thoughts :DD

also, another note: on the day i wrote this fic the insta acc of scara didnt exist. so if it does by the time youve read this fic, its pure coincidence and i have nothing to do w it. or maybe i did, because i came up w the name HAHA

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Had a thought of a scenario where Yan furina

And Yan Neuvillette meet Fishman reader

Where when furina was being overwhelmed by the crowd of people and suddenly they appear in front of them making the crowd run away

With Neuvillette I belive he would find Fishman reader one day taking care of a Melusines because a fish hook got stuck in there leg because of a fisherman

Sorry for the rambling

-🌮annon

ah this was such a cool ask! sorry it took so long to get to, I hope you enjoy it :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behavior, mentions of fishmen being extinct, reader having a fishing hook in their ear, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Furina would be grateful for the sudden pushback of the crowd, even if it meant being face-to-face with a rather intimidating species. Fishfolk had been the previous inhabitants of Fontaine, but long ago when the first Hydro Archon took possession of the land, they were driven back into the sea. It was believed they had gone instinct by now, having not been spotted for many, many decades, but now here you were. 

Furina felt a breath of relief as the crowd seemed to part, more interested in getting away from the general area than anything involving her. Her relief was momentary though as she quickly saw the reason why, you were approaching, and fast. She was too stunned to even speak, staring at you wide-eyed as she froze on the spot. Furina couldn’t believe it, not only were fishfolk still living, but one had been bold enough to come up on land. At that moment she felt something stir inside her, a swirl of curiosity and gratitude. She knew that she needed to know more about you, to learn everything there was about you, your way of life, and why you had come to land.

Yandere!Neuvillette would find you curious, he had read many a book about fishfolk species but all had declared them officially extinct, the species not having been spotted in a couple hundred years. He had heard through the chain of melusines that he saw on a day-to-day basis that a strange person had been spotted on a nearby shore, with a fish hook caught in their ear! Curiously he decided to investigate, after all the area was a designated wildlife preserve so anyone fishing there would be taken into custody immediately. The sand was soft beneath the heel of his boots as Neuvillette descended the beach, eyes cast to the group of Melusines gathered on the beach. It wasn’t uncommon for this many to be in one area, but to be gathered in such a tight circle, all murmuring to each other so intensely was something Neuvillette didn’t see often. Slowly approaching, he saw the cause of concern. A citizen, but one of the sea and not the land, was sat on the beach, face scrunched in pain as the Meulisine’s paws slowly worked a rather thick, complicated hook out of their ear-fin. Was this one of the extinct fishfolk that the history books spoke of? Neuvillette needed to know more.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi , miss Raven

Their is something has been on my mind for while ;

In rook suitor suit vignette he Compose a flattering poem about Crowley

While Ace and Epel was talking about how rook would compliment anyone , rook insisted that he mean every word he say .

And there's this specific weird line

"if it weren't for your presence , I wouldn't be here"

Like what do you mean?????!!

Do you think this line is hinting at the fact that rook didn't join NRC via traditional way or he wasn't chosen by the dark mirror , since he is one of the light trio

Or To the fact that he transferred to another dorm smoothly without any problem?

For some reason I started suspecting rook recently 😭

The fact he was one of the reason vil overbloted by convincing him to watch neige performance and also he is the one who convinced vil to add Ace and deuce as part of VDC team while I thought lilia and cater was a better option

I would like to hear your opinion about it 👀

Ah, so if I'm understanding you correctly... You're theorizing that Rook might be an outside agent of some kind? One that Crowley intentionally brought into NRC to facilitate triggering overblots??

I’ll try to respond to one question at a time; hopefully this will make it easier to follow along! The post got quite long, so it's all below the cut~

Beginning with Rook’s poem, and, more specifically, “If it weren’t for your presence, I wouldn’t be here”. It’s funny that you mention this line, because when the vignette first came out (in JP; the terminology used is similar to “I would not exist/be here”), people interpreted it VERY literally. As in… “Rook is Crowley’s son because he literally could not be conceived without a father! They’re even both named after birds! They have to at least be blood related somehow!” Strange how in 2020, Crowley was suspected of being Rook’s father but now in 2024 Crowley’s being suspected of being Malleus’s father. The poor headmaster just can’t catch a break 😂

Personally, I don’t think that line is implying anything strange about Rook’s enrollment. As far as we know, he did not join NRC though any abnormal means, and nor did Silver. Of the “light trio” (a label that I must stress exists within the fandom but is not endorsed by TWST), only Kalim fits the bill. Kalim was originally homeschooled, but received an acceptance letter to NRC a month into the school year. Another month later, he transferred in. As far as we know, all students at NRC (save for Yuu and Grim) were chosen by the Mirror of Darkness, even the light trio. Again, I want to emphasize that TWST does not use “light trio” or a similar term to refer to or to characterize Kalim, Silverc and Rook. We’ve gotten no formal in-universe explanation as to why those three in particular have light cosmic magic instead of everyone else’s dark cosmic magic. (This is entirely separate from meta theories, which are out-of-universe explanations for why the “light trio” exists. The popular meta explanation is that it’s because Silver, Kalim, and Rook are not twisted from Disney villains but rather “good” characters like Aurora, the Sultan, and the Huntsman.)

On the subject of transferring dorms, the option is always on the table. We see mob students talk about transferring dorms as early as 1-14:

In 6-67 (part 20 with the Pomefiore group), Vil describes the transfer process as being tedious and involving a lot of “complicated paperwork and ceremonies”. Crowley also says the process is “burdensome” in 1-20, but this phrasing is quite vague and could mean any number of things. (Burdensome to whom, the staff or the students? Why exactly is it burdensome?) Overall, it seems like transferring dorms would take a long time and require various formalities, but not necessarily be full of problems.

As long as you’re dedicated and consistently complete what is asked of you to complete the process, transferring should be no issue. I don’t think it’s a given that you’d normally experience troubles in trying to transfer. It should be smooth by default (unless the student backs out, is uncooperative, and/or fails to complete the required steps). So following that logic, I don’t think the poem line is saying anything about Rook’s dorm transfer either.

While it’s true that Rook encourages Vil to watch Neige’s performance and advises that Vil pick Ace and Deuce for the VDC/SDC Tribe, I do not believe there was malicious intent behind these actions. It’s hinted throughout book 5 that Rook’s reasoning for doing these things was to help Vil recognize the value of his “beauty” is something he gains from himself, not from the approval of others.

This is most likely Rook’s motivation for suggesting Vil observe the competition or to consider freshmen for the team. It’s exposing Vil to the contentedness that can come with imperfection or not being at the very top, something Vil fails to recognize in himself until the end of book 5. Being as perceptive as he is, Rook would have realized that outright telling Vil the moral of the week would not sway his strong-willed friend’s mind. Thus, Rook devised a more roundabout plan and involved Yuu (who, at this point, has a reputation for settling dorm-wide disputes) and co. (unpolished and clumsy underclassmen that Vil could shape as well as potentially also learn from in a reciprocal manner). Maybe Lilia and Cater would have been more technically skilled, being members of a club band and all, but they wouldn’t have provided the same opportunity for growth that Yuu and Adeuce did.

Rook is someone who has always been portrayed as a supporter of Vil’s, a good friend and a trusted confidant. He does have a nefarious side and is 100% capable of deception (like the time in Endless Halloween Night when he quickened his heartbeat to convince Sebek he was also scared and therefore was not a traitor). However, I don’t think Rook would want to betray his friends by actively harming them and putting their lives in danger (both during book 5’s overblot and immediately after in book 6’s rescue mission); he truly cares for them and wants to see them happy and healthy. (One could argue he should have voted for NRC instead of RSA to help Vil achieve his dream instead of betraying him, but that’s another discussion entirely.)

There’s no reason why Rook would go out of his way to do innocuous things like helping Epel with his UM or imparting wisdom to Deuce unless he actually cared and wanted to see them develop. Beyond the scope of book 5, why would Rook do even more innocuous things like trying to make Epel feel welcome and assisting him with learning table manners? Why wouldn’t he go out of his way to provoke Vil more often? Did Crowley hypothetically have even all of these little details down and instruct Rook to do (or not do) these things??? It sounds too far-fetched to attach a hidden motive behind everything Rook says or does. It could be as simple as “he wants to be there to support his friends”.

Before we wrap up, I’d like to quickly touch on the suggestion that Silver and Kalim too were catalysts for Malleus and Jamil’s OBs, respectively. It’s true that they were, but I doubt Silver or Kalim were aware and did so intentionally. Both seemed genuinely ignorant as to the true stress that Malleus and Jamil were under, and Silver + Kalim do not present as toxic people who would want to inflame their friends’ negativity. Of course, there’s always the possibility that Puppet Master Crowley (™) is orchestrating everything from the shadows (but I’m not going to get into the “time loop to gather all the necessary information and learn what the correct choices are” theory here www). I just don’t think Rook is Crowley’s accomplice in all of this if the time loop + intention overblots theories overlap.

This is one of those instances where I see Rook as being very honest with his intentions and because of his… generally strange character (?), his peers and players alike still suspect there is a deeper meaning to his words. I interpret his poem as nothing more than waxing poetic to expressing gratitude to the one man that makes it possible for him to be at NRC as a student: Crowley. Rook states that he wanted to give an exemplary poem using a subject that both Ace and Epel were already familiar with, so he went with the headmaster. Furthermore, we know that Rook is able to witness many wonderful and beautiful things at NRC, as well as make meaningful relationships with interesting people like Vil. He would not be able to do any of these things were he not extended an invitation to NRC—and it is for this reason that it would make sense for him to genuinely be appreciative of Crowley.

Those are all my thoughts on this matter all for now ^^ Hope it was an interesting read!

[dead-boys-club]

†  red string : astarion.

❥ project: soulmate - red string of fate. ❥ a little menacing, but soft enough. ( pls ignore my tiny plothole, im exhausted. ) ❥ no triggers unless you hate how i write him, tbh. i am dabbling with how he speaks. ❥ for: @blibblubblub - i apologize in advance. ( if i mess up numbers, please let me know - the dyscalculia will absolutely do the jig and fuck me up. )

the trek through the dense forest had been long and tiring, the group barely even taking a moment to breathe as they pushed onward, wanting to cover as much ground as possible. it was only when the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the trees, that you all deciding it was finally time to make camp and rest aching bones. as the others busied themselves amongst their own things, setting up tents and collecting firewood, you found yourself standing near the edge, staring down at your hand in agitation.

there it was - a thin, crimson thread tied neatly around your pinky, glowing faintly with the attachment to your soul. you'd heard of the red string of fate as a child, a myth about a string connecting you to your soulmate, but you'd never imagined you'd actually see it, let alone feel it. the moment you discovered it and just who happened to be on the end of it, you'd kept it to yourself. he seemed to do the same.

the realization had hit you like a tidal wave. this wasn't a myth; it was real, and it was connecting you to astarion. a part of you was beyond thrilled, but another part - one that won in dominance and brought worry and doubt - feared what it may mean for the group, and astarion himself.

you shook off the thoughts and clenched your hand into a fist, the string fading from view, and reached for your gloves. slipping them on, you sighed and shook your head, knowing it was going to be a pain keeping it under wraps but it would have to do for now. the last thing you wanted was to disrupt the already fragile balance of your party or make astarion uncomfortable, especially given his complicated past - you accepted that as his reasoning for not speaking up.

as you walked back and towards the fire, you kept your hand tucked close to your side, forcing up a smile when others glanced your way. astarion raised an eyebrow, expression curious but not overly concerned. you managed to navigate the rest of the evening without any attention, thought you could feel the weight of the string continuing to grow heavier.

days passed, and you continued keeping your little secret hidden, always pulling on gloves or tucking your hands away when he was too close. you tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, for everyone, and the safest way to handle the situation. the more you avoided it, however, the more it gnawed at you. you began to wonder if he had other reasons for denying it - had he already ruled you out on being his soulmate? maybe a rejection would make it easier.

it wasn't long before he started to notice your strange behavior. he was nothing if not observant, and the way you seemed to avoid him didn't escape his attention - of course it didn't. he didn't need to catch the glimpses of the string to know it was there, but you were so quick to cover it up, always some excuse about the cold or an old injury.

one evening, as the two of you sat apart from the group, he finally decided it was time to confront you about your recent change. the firelight flickered across his features as he turned to you, eyes narrowing slightly. 'you've been acting.. different,' he remarked, voice carrying a hint of suspicion, 'what are you hiding?'

you tensed at the forward way of asking, knowing you couldn't just keep avoiding the truth anymore. you took a deep breath and sighed in defeat, lifting your hand to show the string that connected you both by the pinky. his eyes flickered as he glanced to your hand then back at you, confused but also showing something darker, more pained.

'so, you have been hiding it,' he murmured, nodding slowly as if he was simply accepting it all as a cruel joke. the hurt in his eyes was impossible to miss. 'and, you've been hiding it.. because you don't want it. correct?'

'no, that's not-' you began, but the falter in your voice wasn't making it too believable. he cut you off, tone sharp with bitterness.

'you didn't want me to see it because you hate the idea of being bound to a monster, is that it? i'm not exactly what you imagined for a soulmate, it is?' his words were laced with self loathing and distaste, his usual bravado stepped out by the deep insecurities that burned too deeply to ignore, the ones he tried so hard to hide.

you reached out to him, desperate to make him understand, but stopped yourself, not wanting to cross more lines than you already had. 'that's not why i did it. i was.. afraid. i didn't want this to cause trouble for the group, or you. i didn't want to.. force anything on you or be the reason you felt obligated to something.'

astarion's expression softened only slightly, but the pain remained evident. 'so you were protecting me from the truth? or, perhaps, you were protecting yourself from the idea.'

the question hung heavy in the air, and you could see how deeply the possibility of rejection hurt him. so much so that he wasn't giving you a chance to explain. he was used to being treated a certain way, as less than worth it, and the thought the person made for him might feel the same way cut deep to the core.

you shook your head and stepped closer to him. 'i was scared of how it would change things, scared of what it might mean. it's not because i don't want you. i'm not afraid of being with you.'

he searched your gaze, looking for any sign of deception, but was surprised to find none at all. he looked away, eyebrows briefly pulling together before he let himself have the smallest sliver of faith in the words, letting the tension ease from his shoulders slightly.

'then why?' he asked quietly, 'why did you hide it? you knew i would be able to see it.'

'because i didn't want you to feel trapped,' you explained, having a little trouble making eye contact due to admitting something out loud that sounded so.. stupid. 'i know how much you value your freedom, how much you've been through. i wasn't going to be part of a something the world decided you have no choice in.'

the bitterness in his eyes and expression seemed to gradually melt away as you spoke, giving way to something more vulnerable. he glanced down at the string once more, then back up, emotions no longer readable. 'you're a fool,' he said, though without malice, only a strange kind of affection. 'a well-meaning fool.'

you let a out a breath you didn't know you were holding, relief washing over you. you hadn't realized how deep your own fear of rejection seemed to burrow. 'maybe i am' you chuckled weakly, 'but, i meant what i said.. about being with you. i care about you, adore you, more than you know.'

he stared at you for a long moment, gaze intense, as if he were trying to see directly into your soul, wherever that link settled. then, he reached out and collected your hand in his, the red string binding you together growing brighter than before.

'i suppose.. it's not the worst fate in the world,' he said softly, thumb brushing over your knuckles. 'being bound to someone who actually cares.'

looking to him, you couldn't help the soft smile that played on your lips. 'so.. you like me, then?'

his eyes widened slightly at the question, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his face. he recovered rather quickly and squeezed your hand, his usual smirk returning, a hint of something more genuine behind it.

'well, aren't you a perceptive one,' he replied, tone playful but edged with sincerity. 'i suppose i've not made that too obvious. who knows? perhaps i just enjoy the company of someone who can tolerate my presence.'

he paused, softening one more as he looks over you, the teasing tone fading off. 'but, yes.. i do. more than i've shown, it seems.' his smirk is next to fade, allowing something more serious to form. 'it's not easy to trust, let alone care for someone. but you, you're different.. and maybe, just maybe, that scares me more than i'd like to admit.'

'you're afraid of me, then?' it's a light tease, something you say as an attempt to ease the seriousness of everything. reassurance, in your own way.

he lets out a small, self deprecating laugh. 'you can say that,' he answered, shaking his head slightly, 'but, i do like you. and if this string is any indication, it seems we're bound together in more ways than one.'

'we'll figure it out together,' you promised, lifting your pinky to wave it a little.

astarion nodded, a faint smile breaking through the sadness that had clouded his thoughts over the idea. 'together,' he echoed, and for the first time in a very long time, he allowed himself to believe that the connection was something worth embracing.

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Lando/Oscar

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let us know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments

Only a few months ago, we featured a Lando/Oscar fic on our super rare pair list. Now, it's our most requested ship. Wow!

We hope you enjoy these ones! 🍊

nsfw: By a thread by @mctwinkdom | 5k | E

Oscar and Lando have a text conversation about thongs – things escalate from there. I loved the formatting of this fic, the texting really works well as a structure and the rest is filled up by the authors lovely characterization of both Lando and Oscar. I especially love Oscar being his normal aloof self, a little bit nervous about his new teammate (but so so in to it when the convo turns spicy) while Lando is just a strange little horny boy with a liking for ”thongs”.

Oscar raises an eyebrow. He thought his answer was pretty straightforward, didn’t think he’d have to spell it out for Lando. (me): I wasn’t talking about shoes in my tweet” Now that would teach him. Fucking British. Always thinking they have full powers over the English language. Okay, granted, maybe they invented it but still.

Sanctus by debrief | T | 5.5k

This is a renaissance au with lovers to enemies (and back), beginning with Oscar serving Lando's high-status family. What I like: This is some of the most incredible writing I've encountered. Not only is it a masterclass in non-linear narratives, but it's packed with striking imagery and fascinating power dynamics. There are phrases and sentences in this fic that I can quote off the top of my head. It's immersive and heart-wrenching and beautiful.

'Lando had been blithe, Oscar had been brave. They were seventeen and unforgivably naive. It was a time of spires, domes, cathedrals, rebirth celebrated at the heart of the greatest city-state this side of the world. A war of high art and marginalized decadence, long expanses of moon-kissed skin bathed in gratuitous bathos, love and lust flirting vows over gilt-framed canvases commissioned by wealthy nobles who have known neither.'

legerdemain by anonymous | Not Rated | 5.8k

Oscar gets roped into teaching Lando how to play chess, and quickly finds out that Lando's endgame is a lot more complicated than it seems. I loved this fic for a variety of reasons - firstly because of the way that the author's love for and understanding of chess shines through so clearly. And secondly, the characterisation of both Lando and Oscar is complex and witty and so fitting to who they both are. Lando is cheeky and a little weird and far sharper than he lets on, and Oscar is dry and matter-of-fact and unexpectedly into Lando. This is one of those fics that can get you sold on the Lando/Oscar pairing if you were initially uncertain about it - the slow build-up of tension and realisation is brilliantly captured, with chess and chess strategy being used to build UST between these two in a way that feels perfectly fitting to them.

'“Gotcha,” Lando says. “So like. D’you prefer blowjobs?” He moves the white rook to attack the hanging pawn and figures out the rest of the endgame puzzle pretty effortlessly.'

soft vanilla foreplay by anonymous | M | 7k

AU. Lando, a member of a Robin Hood style crime group, meets Oscar, who turns out to be a cat-hybrid vigilante superhero himself. Oscar joins Lando’s gang. Together they fight injustice (by doing crime). This fic is really well written and incredibly funny. It leans hard into the cat-Oscar joke - Oscar is very catlike in all the best ways and has some mannerisms that made me think the author definitely has one. Their meet-cute is hilarious and sets the tone for the entire fic.

' “No, I actually inherited the genes from my ancestors, who came from a planet of felids.” “Excuse me, did you mean a planet of furries?” “No, Jesus, Lando,” Oscar says emphatically, then he’s laughing, crinkling eyes and soft cheeks and bunny teeth. God, he’s so fucking cute. “No, I was found, um,” Oscar says, sobering from the laugh. He takes a deep breath. “In a handbag. Someone left me on the. Doorstep of a stranger’s house.” Lando looks up and gauges Oscar’s expression. He’s telling the truth. “I don’t know why I’m a cat,” Oscar says. Makes this shrugging expression without actually shrugging. “So…” Lando says. “How did you find out?” “Well. For one, I can speak to cats,” Oscar answers. Huh. This probably explains all the neighbourhood cats serenading Oscar from his balcony so much. “Okay,” Lando says, taking it all in stride. “And you fight crime by night?” “I work graveyard shifts at the supermarket,” Oscar says. “Yeah. Part-time. That’s three out of seven nights.” And Oscar is with Lando for two or three of the four remaining nights (they fuck every evening though) (and morning). Anyways, the maths doesn’t add up. Oscar sighs. “Well, I.” He pauses. “I climb up to fancy penthouses of people who run trust mills, and I take stuff. Then I redistribute.” Oh. Lando is mouthing the oh. “You’re a cat burglar,” Lando whispers it like it’s the funniest secret ever.'

nsfw: Needs Improvement by @strawberry-daiquiris | 7.1k | E

Zak tells Oscar his 'teammate communication' needs improvement. Mark sends him to a 'Psychic, Clairvoyant, Sorcerer' who ends up doing some voodoo that leads to Oscar and Lando being able to read each others' thoughts. Its got great characterisations and some humour mixed in with some angst and, of course, some smut. Plus one of the first Landoscar fics I read and it really drew me in.

'If he’s really that worried, Mark suggests, he could see a sports psychologist. Someone who can advise him how to work with Lando, really get to the core of what it means to be a good teammate. They could even do sessions together. “Like couples therapy.” Mark grins, clapping Oscar on the shoulder. “Only worse, because you won’t get any sex out of it.” The irony, really, is that Oscar and Lando don’t not get on. He’d actually thought they were doing pretty well. Lando laughs at his jokes, Oscar smiles through his stories. They don’t see eye to eye on music, or hobbies, or the taste of fish, but none of those things matter on track anyway. Even more ironic is that Oscar really wouldn’t mind having sex with Lando, if he’s honest.'

nsfw: Never have I ever by @mctwinkdom | E | 13k

Lando and Oscar play a game of Never Have I Ever, and it leads to some interesting revelations. Although its majority (very good) smut, this was a very heartwarming fic. The dialogue is fun and keeps you reading more. The characterisation of them feels realistic!

'But there was something between them, without shape or name, something that made them avert their gaze after staring at each other for one second too long, something that made them slightly jump if their hands were to brush. Something Lando had named in his mind: “I wanna fuck my teammate: the Remix”, in bold orange (papaya) letters with some glitter and fireworks.'

we are all in the butter but some of us are looking at the cars by xiaoluclair | T | 14.3k

Oscar's first season in F1 is about reaching the stars. It becomes about reaching Lando, too. The timing of this one feels very real to me, the way pieces slowly slot into place. The author places threads and waits until the end to pull on all of them, and it's lovely.

'Peer pressure, thinks Oscar, this is peer pressure. But Lando keeps it held out, eyes on Oscar and Oscar. Oscar takes the damn shoe. It’s probably one of the oddest experiences of his life. When he lowers it again, can feel the thin river of it cold on his chin, Lando’s still looking at him. Crows have walked in the skin beside his eyes.A minute later, Oscar watches him tip his head back, shoe against his mouth. Light shines through the gap and, just for a moment, it looks like he is swallowing the sun itself.'

nsfw: carried away by venerat | E | 22.1k

AU, non drivers. Lando impulsively asks Oscar to pretend to be his boyfriend to make an ex jealous. Oscar agrees, even though it's probably a bad idea when he likes Lando so much. Lando gradually comes to realise he is in love with Oscar. I am crazy for the fake dating trope. This has all the best parts of it - miscommunication, angst, gradual feelings realisation from the POV character and obvious pining from the other. Venerat is so good at this and the fic is a lovely journey. The characterisations are perfect, especially Oscar and his natural talent for understatement, which muddies the waters a bit.

'If there was anything Oscar would do, it was was focus very intently on the task assigned to him, until he got it exactly fucking right. That was what made him perfect for this particular task: the task of being Lando’s boyfriend. Fake boyfriend. “Okay,” Lando said, clearing his throat. “Stunning. Was thinking, maybe we could try it out at the cinema tomorrow.” He, Oscar, and the Lefrères were going to see the new Bond film. It was the perfect opportunity to be dickish and in love, as far as Lando was concerned. “Just didn’t want you to get all jumpy if I touched you,” he explained. “If that’s alright. Like. Yeah.” Oscar nodded. “Got it. Sounds good, mate. I’ll be, er, ready.” It was nice to be around such passion. Lando rolled his eyes. He was smiling inside, when he thought it. But Oscar did have some capacity to surprise him. Before Lando fucked off, Oscar stepped forward, closing the normal non-sexual gap between them, and wrapped Lando in a light hug. It was nothing—Oscar’s arms were barely even squeezing him—but Lando’s breath still caught in his chest like a stupid fucking idiot, freezing inside the hug. “Have a good one,” Oscar said when he drew back. He was pink, which made Lando feel better, given that his own ears were warming. Okay. They clearly needed practice. Desperately, in fact. “You too, babe,” Lando said, and winked. Then, before he could embarrass himself further, he spun on his heel and walked out.'

nsfw: climb up to your lips by @scenetocause | E | 28k (wip)

This fic is Lando/girl!Oscar (the always-a-different-sex trope). Lando has a massive crush on his teammate. He also has a submissive streak that starts to express itself around her. As their relationship develops, she picks up on this and starts finding ways to take care of him. They’re both a bit inexperienced at relationships and sex in general. I just love these two. They’re both slightly weird and awkward and don’t quite fit with anyone else but are turning out to be perfect for one another. It’s a learning curve for them both.

“Yeah, fuck.” Lando has to tilt his head back onto the sofa. He can feel it in his arse, where she touched him. He might feel it for the rest of his life. “Yeah, I. Fuck.” “Later.” she says, like a promise. It takes him a moment to work out she means them, later. Fucking. Which might be ambitious because he currently feels like he needs a refractory period of about a decade, after that one but he won’t spoil her dreams just yet. She's acidic, clever as ever in debrief and brutal in the way she deconstructs her own, botched Q3. Lando's probably staring at her a bit lovestruck but he's been doing that all season anyway so no one has to know it's over the phantom sensation of her inside him. Despite the lecture from Zak earlier Oscar tucks him under her arm on the drive from the hotel, playing with his hair. He's actually less worried about being killed by Andrea or whatever now but still doesn't get his phone out because he hasn't had time to clean up his insta follows and he doesn't want Oscar to think he's into anyone else. For someone who doesn't seem to think much of herself, she seems fairly assured he likes her. Which might, in retrospect, be something to do with the best part of a year he spent broadcasting that to her before he'd even realised it himself.'

already home by @nyoomfruits | T | 32.5k

Lando marries Oscar, his best friend and roommate, to keep his family from worrying about him so much. This is an absolute gem. It's sweet, funny, cozy, and the dynamic between the pairing and their friends is delightful.

“Yeah, well, you’re marrying me, so,” Lando says, sticking out his tongue, and Oscar laughs, that loud, bursting out of him laugh he does sometimes where he completely folds his body in half. Lando hides his self-satisfied smirk behind another bite of his pancake, and pretends like he isn’t committing the little laugh lines in the corner of Oscar’s eyes to his memory.'

thank you to @singsweetmelodies, @ocontraire, @maaxverstappen, @lydia-petze, @frickinsweet & @welightitup for compiling this list 🧡

[cafeinthemoon]

It's a Fire - Chapter I

Chapter 1

Wordcount 3,5k

Title Retired Hashira

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 🖤

Warnings: arranged marriage; age gap; mentions of increasing in criminality and poverty; grieving; non diagnosed depression (the condition wasn't properly understood by the time this story is settled)

Tagging ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N.A.: So Kimetsu no Yaiba returned and I'm taking the opportunity to finally start posting this story that has been in my list of ideas for several months!

A while ago I made a poll where I included the option of writing a fic with the Rengoku family, and it was this one I was talking about. I know there are other stories I need to work on already, but let me tell you that this very fic just saved me from a creative block, which was caused by what I suspect to be the beginning of a burnout (I'm about to go on vacation and I just can't take it anymore, but I don't want to discuss this rn).

A few words about the ff itself: It's a slow burn, arranged marriage story between reader, who's 27/28 yo, which makes her closer to myself who's a bit older than this, and Shinjuro Rengoku, who's struggling with the same problems we see in canon, but somehow accepts her as his wife: she was the daughter of old acquaintances of his, so the marital contract is sealed to allegedly honor the friendship between the families. However, things are way more complicated in reality.

Of course, because of the things we see in the original media, such as violence, alcoholism and etc., I need to make it clear that my personal opinions on these subjects may diverge from what I'm putting in this story (due to personal family experiences), and each chapter will carry the necessary warnings. Also if you notice similarities with Beauty and the Beast, know that it isn't just a coincidence haha Finally, the title is a song by Portishead, which didn't influence my writing but its lyrics somehow fit this plot 🌹

I hope you have a good time reading this ❤

“You walk a lonely road 

Oh, how far you are from home” 

(Enya, May it Be) 

That fate didn’t care about your preferences and desires, you knew well. 

You wished you had your mother with you for long years, and that your relationship grew stronger as you spent your time together, dedicating yourselves to the art of the sword, but most of her time and energy were directed to her work as a member of the Demon Slayer Corps, and it was like this until the day you received a messenger from Ubuyashiki-sama to inform you about her death: she didn’t fall to the Oni, but couldn’t resist the injuries from a battle against a group of them. 

You also wished your father, after losing the woman he claimed to love, stood up to his remaining family, that is, himself and you, and took reasonable measures to protect his territory and the people who lived in it, but he preferred to lock himself in his office and ignore the demands outside it, firing half of the house’s servants for the sake of saving money and willing to leave the property to the dust and the insects, not seeing this happening thanks to you, who took the task of maintaining everything by yourself, even doing some of the physical work. 

There were, in fact, many other things you wished for, but didn’t have the chance to see them coming true. One of those other things were continuing to live in the house you grew up in, and using your education to dedicate your life to a career of your choice, though your options seemed limited by your sex. But even this was taken from you when, on an ordinary day, you saw your father leaving his office in the company of a man you’ve never seen in your life. You wanted to question him about this strange visit, but you didn’t have to: your father came to your chambers later, and without measuring his tone or giving you time to process such news, explained the meeting’s main subject. 

– I’ve recently contacted an old acquaintance of mine, someone who was also known by your mother – he started – And explained our situation here. 

You knew what he was talking about: after your mother passed away, your lands’ protection has been neglected, and appearances of demons have been reported more often by your servants and the people who live in the villages near. No one dared leaving their houses at night, and the local economy were deeply affected by this, since part of the basic work used to be done in this period of the day; this led to an increase in poverty and criminality. You, on your part, weren’t immune to these difficulties despite growing up in a privileged family. 

Your father addressing this situation to you, however, was something new, and you exposed this impression to him. 

– Things are getting harder for everyone here, that’s true – you agreed – But why are you discussing this with me now? 

– Because I asked this acquaintance for help, and he answered me – he took slow steps toward your window, half opened by that time; he closed it with firm hands, but without making much noise – The thing is that, at the same time our lands are now dangerous to people, specially to young women like you, it’s time for you to take the next big step in your personal life, daughter. After all, you’re almost twenty-eight. 

You frowned. 

Next big step? What is he talking about?… 

Your father might have noticed your confusion, because he soon clarified his words… and you wished he never did it. 

– I’m talking about marriage, y/n – he spat – You declined the last two proposals, and I respect your reasons for that, but this time the circumstances aren’t in our favor. This man who visited me earlier is a messenger from the Rengoku House, and he brought me a positive answer from their head: I offered your hand and a good dowry in exchange for your protection, and in respect to your mother, who worked for the same cause as him, Shinjuro Rengoku accepted you as his wife. You’re leaving the house this week. 

You were speechless. You tried to stand up and show a sign of protest, but your legs didn’t obey you; you opened your mouth to say something, but no word left it. You knew your father have been struggling, but you could never suppose he was becoming insane – arranging a marriage for you without your consent? Other men used to do this to their daughters, but the man who married your mother would never… But, apparently, he was no longer this man. 

Maybe he was expecting some disagreement, but seeing your silence made him frown. 

– Don’t you have anything to say about this? 

You finally seemed to wake up. You gave him a dead glare, murmuring your response. 

– And what do you expect a woman to say after being sold and sent away from her own house out of nowhere? – you moved your head to the side, irony leaking from the gesture – Thank you? 

Your father clenched his jaw. 

– I certainly don’t expect your gratitude – his voice was lower now – I know this isn’t the future you wanted for yourself, and I didn’t want things to be like this either, but… 

– Why marriage, father? – your tongue was released, interrupting his thread of thoughts like a storm – I could stay temporarily with them, work for them, anything! But marrying someone I’ve never met?! Don’t you remember that I’ve declined the other proposals after at least seeing the faces of those men? 

– You’ll meet him on the wedding day, and you’ll have all the time of the world to know anything there is to know about him – his tone was louder again, as his patience was running low – Besides, Shinjuro is an old friend of mine. I give you my word that he’s a decent man, besides being a formidable warrior. He was married to a respectable woman once, and built a good family with her. I trust him, and so did your mother. No problems should be expected from his part, so the same must be expected from you. 

Shinjuro. It was only the second time you’ve heard that name from your father’s mouth, and you didn’t know what to think. In fact, you’ve learned from your mother that among the Demon Slayer Corps there was an elite group known as the Hashira, and one of them was Shinjuro, the Hashira of the Flames. He was the current head of the Rengoku family, but personal struggles – including the death of his wife – forced him to a retirement despite his capacity as a warrior, so that his eldest son, Kyojuro, took his place. However, you also heard that this young man was dead, so it was impossible to tell how things were going for his family members now. And that was the environment your father was willing to throw you into, even spending money in the process. 

You sighed. 

– Father, when was the last time you’ve met this man? I don’t remember you talking about him – you crossed your arms – I’m only familiar with his name thanks to mother, but now you’re telling me that he’s an old friend of yours. How old is he, exactly? 

– Not as old as me, of course – his reply came with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation – I can’t believe that, of all the things involved in this arrangement, this is what concerns you more! 

You scoffed. 

– I’m not that futile, but if he’s old enough to have a son capable of replacing him in the battlefield, I think I have the right to be concerned! – you took a step toward him – If I have no choice, I want to know exactly where I’m getting into. Can’t you even make such a small concession to me, father? 

No, he couldn’t, and you soon realized that. 

Your father decided the conversation was over. He returned to the room’s door and opened it. 

– It is decided, already – and, with a sort of sadness in his eyes – I’m doing what I think it’s best for my daughter. I only wanted her to trust me, at least for once. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

– I wanted this too, father. But you’re making it too difficult for your daughter. 

He stared at you for a moment, then left without any word. 

*** 

Things really happened the way you feared, in the path your father stated they would follow. He said that, but until the end he kept acting like he had no control over the flow of events, in a frail attempt to soothe his own conscience that only served to unnerve you, and not even seeing the disappointment in his daughter’s eyes each time he looked at you was enough for him to leave this pretense aside. Had he no shame anymore? 

During that fateful week, you avoided his company, leaving the burden of communication to the remaining servants and only speaking to him when utterly necessary. What was left for you to talk about when, as he said, everything was decided, and when you had nothing but sadness for him — for him, the adversities he’s been through and for the way he chose to behave in face of them? It was useless to argue on this, and whether you liked it or not, you had little time to put everything in order and couldn’t have the luxury of wasting it: would it be worthy to cause a delay in the arrangements under the risk of leaving a bad impression in your future spouse, even when he was someone you’ve never saw before? 

You sighed at the thought. 

And, as if I hadn’t enough things to worry about, I still have to consider this. 

In fact, you didn’t want to take much stuff from that house with you at the same time you didn’t want to cause any difficulties to the servants, who have already seen their load increase the last months, so you were quick to select essential items and packing them with the help of a maid, from your clothes to the gifts brought by your mother, and instruct her about what to do with the other things: some of them you gave to her, knowing that she had a daughter who was younger than you and who’d appreciate your charity, and the others, such as the furniture, should be sent to the villagers, for you wanted your things to be with people who would make good use of them instead of letting them rot in a place to where you’d never come back. 

Among all of this, the last object you packed was the only thing you made a point about carrying by yourself, and the only thing you didn’t trust anyone to pack but yourself: the sword of your mother, which was sent to your house by Ubuyashiki-sama and now belonged to you. Your mother has been teaching you lessons since you were a teenager, but she hasn’t lived long enough to see if you were going to develop your own Breath; well, until that day you haven’t, but you’ve never stopped practicing even under your father’s disapproval. You didn’t know what you would find once you stepped into your husband’s house, but you wouldn’t want to depend on his protection on everything; besides, having a wife who knew how to wield a sword must be an advantage, right? 

The train of thoughts, feelings and concerns was such that you were robbed from sleep the night before the ceremony. You knew women who had their marriages arranged as well, but you never got to talk to them about it; you had no idea of how you were supposed to feel, or how you were supposed to see the whole thing. How one should feel when they saw themselves trapped in a situation from which they couldn’t get out? Without having answers, you just relied on the feeling that seemed reasonable to you, that is, utter fear. 

The next morning came silent and inexorable, just as the ones before it, and you saw yourself leaving your bed and taking care of your duties without putting your thoughts on them. It was only your body working by itself, saving your soul from the burden of being conscious, or perhaps you were just accepting your fate after a night of tears and rage. 

Having dismissed the maid’s help, you bathed and dressed alone, and left the house where the most important moments of your life took place without one last look. To be fair, your eyes were so sore and tired that they barely registered the appearance of the weather while you walked to the carriage, but you guessed it was a warm, sunny day, though not enough for you to get sweaty. Your father was already in the carriage’s interior; you took the seat beside him with no signs of acknowledging his presence. 

The coachman shook the reins and yelled something to the horse, and the crack of the wooden wheels was heard as the vehicle moved along the road. 

*** 

The ceremony took place in a building in the city of (…), near your father’s property, which served as the head office of a group of law professionals, including the man responsible for your marital contract. 

You wouldn’t call it a ceremony, really: it was more of a sequence of bureaucratic procedures than a social event with the purpose of uniting two families; a mere formality to allow you to move to a man’s house without ruining your reputation. It was quick, direct and cold like a financial operation, and the people involved seemed to make sure it looked like this. 

Your father led you to a sequence of stairs and then through a narrow corridor, until he stopped in front of a door and opened it, entering the room and inciting you to follow him. You did it, and found out you weren’t the first to arrive: the officiant was already in his position, behind a table upon which you saw an open book; at its right, there was a small inkwell and a feather; around him, two officers which function you couldn’t guess and couldn’t care about. And, finally, in front of the table and observing your arrival with a stern glare, the man who was about to become your husband. 

Whatever you were expecting to see, Shinjuro was nothing like you might have imagined, except for the fact that he was younger than you supposed – and, indeed, younger than your father – and stole the attentions among all those men despite the quiet, composed manners. Well, he would do it in any place he’d step in, for his appearance was extravagant, to say the least: on his severe face he carried a pair of orange eyes under two thick, black eyebrows, a wild trait that made you think of a lion; framing his expression and matching his eyes, he had thick, blond hair that decreased to red on its edges, spreading over his shoulders. And, as if his looks weren’t enough to draw the whole room’s attention, he was dressed in sober, dark clothing, more like someone attending a western funeral than a wedding. 

As you walked to the center of the room, led by your father, and took the spot beside Shinjuro, you felt your skin burning in discomfort under his merciless eyes. You breathed deep and, when he nodded to acknowledge you two, you made an effort to greet him, as well as the other men. 

I knew he wasn’t the same person my father claimed to know. He stated that he was good and trustful, but everything in this man screams danger. What kind of hell I’m getting into… 

The officiant announced the beginning of the ceremony, and you turned to him in silence. After a few, composed words to the new couple, he gave you both clear instructions on where to sign your names, and you did as he said, Shinjuro first, then you; you glanced at his hand offering you the feather and took it in a second, taking care your hand didn’t touch his. You tried not to think of your gestures as you wetted its tip on the ink, but a tremble reached your wrist the instant you approached the feather from the paper. 

So… That’s it. I write my name in a book and enter a path from where I can’t go back. 

The realization was too much to bear and time was passing, so you bit your inner cheek to prevent your mind to entertain the thought and scribbled your name at once. When you moved the feather away and put it back on the inkwell, your hand acted by itself, and your arm gone numb once you recoiled it to your side. 

Your mouth was dry, and a hole seemed to have taken the place of your heart. You barely noticed when the officiant and the other witnesses analyzed your signatures and approved them, bringing the ceremony to an end. You refused to believe all of that was real until the man announced you were free to go, and both Shinjuro and you turned away, preparing to leave. He didn’t bat an eye at you while doing so. 

The head of the Rengoku family stopped to exchange some words with your father. You were close enough to hear the conversation, but didn’t want to pay attention; you just wanted to leave this place, even though you weren’t going to a familiar one after it. 

You only understood their conversation was over when you heard your father’s voice calling your name. You turned to him and your stomach curled in disgust when you saw the pleading smile on his face, the only thing that reminded you of home and now a sign of everything you lost. You’ve never felt so alone. 

Later, you’d try to remember his exact words for you at that moment, but you’d find yourself unable to do it. Maybe it was a formal wish of good luck or something. The only thing you remembered was your reaction: you stared at him for a few seconds, then, without a word, you turned your face away, walking toward the door. You knew your husband was observing, but his approval was the least of your preoccupations now. 

*** 

Little was recalled by you from the travel to the Rengoku house, except that it was silent, even calm period. The only abnormality was caused by you: unlike your other belongings, who were sent in another vehicle ahead under the supervision of a servant, you decided you were going to carried your sword with you in the carriage, to everyone’s surprise and your father’s discontentment. 

That occasion was also when Shinjuro spoke to you for the first time. 

— Why are you doing this? 

The question, made when you were already in the carriage, was direct but not devoid of politeness, so you granted him an honest answer. 

— This sword once belonged to my mother, and now it is mine. If my father had his way, I’d never carry it with me, but I refuse to leave it behind — and, glancing at him, — I couldn’t risk him checking my things and subtracting it from them without my consent. 

Shinjuro only murmured an “I see” in response, and the conversation died there. 

You were beside the carriage’s window and might have slept to the warmth of the sun and the constant noise of the wheels in movement, but you weren’t sure if you did. As your body was now avoiding visible reactions, your spirit was suppressing the emotional rush for your own good, since no advantage would come from a breakdown in the middle of the road, right in front of your new spouse who, just like you, didn’t seem all pleased with the whole thing: sure, he didn’t show visible discontentment whether with your appearance or your manners, but you’ve been dealing with middle aged men for too long to sense when they were seeing something they didn’t find appropriate; and, in the present case, it was clear to you that Shinjuro already formed his opinion: to him, you were a stubborn, spoiled brat who didn’t have her way and was decided to make it everyone else’s problem. Yes, the idea of acting like that wandered through your mind for a while, but you thought you were better than this, and opted for a balance between bitterness and decency, not wearing plain clothing and displaying rude manners, but also not being extravagant in anything; still, you couldn’t convince the man of your good nature, and he let it clear with the inquiring about the sword, so now you completely gave up on seeking his favor. 

You were just waiting for the travel to end. 

Chapter 2

[affixjoy]

Today I continued my Star Trek journey by rewatching Star Trek (2009) and boy howdy do I have some thoughts.

So first off, I saw this for the first time when I came out in 2009. It wasn’t my first experience with Star Trek, but it was probably my first with Kirk and Spock and that gang. I remember liking it a lot.

Now that I’ve watched all of TOS and a few of the movies with the original cast my feelings are a little more complicated.

Overall, fun movie! I imagine they had to have felt the weight of recasting and redoing such iconic characters, and in a lot of ways they succeeded. It certainly got younger people like me interested in the franchise!

💫 Spock: I do love this version of him. His “live long and prosper” to the VSA is perfectly bitchy and I’m obsessed with it.

💫BONES!! if you’ve read any of my other posts you’ll know that somehow Bones snuck up on me as my favorite character. I love his intro here, and I think Karl Urban gets the tone just right. This really is a buffet for the McKirkers out there, I can see how this led to 1000 academy era fics of them.

💫Kirk: oh Jim. Jimmy Jim Jim. Baby boy. What are you doing. How did being played by Chris Pine (who is incredibly hot) make you LESS attractive??

Obviously this Kirk suffers from some Kirk drift and the added trauma of losing his dad. He’s so much angrier, so much less sweet and nerdy. Rewatching this now I can see why I was so hesitant to like him in TOS because he’s a lot less lovable here.

💫 I get it’s an emergency and they had to for plot reasons, but almost all of Pike’s staffing choices make no sense. Sure, Spock as acting captain, I get that. But everyone else?? Imagine being one of the other people there who has been with starfleet for years and seeing him hand Kirk the role of first officer. The ship can’t be entirely cadets can it?? Imagine the group texts going around after like “thank god he didn’t die because I really need to bitch about this.”

💫 I love all three Uhuras (tos, aos, and snw) and I get why they made her Spock’s love interest here because they’ve got fun chemistry! They have a lot in common, they’re both hot and smart, I get it. But cmon guys, that man is a 6 on the Kinsey scale. You keep pairing him with women and it doesn’t work.

💫 I feel like they worked in lots of little references to classic trek, from plot stuff to smaller details like when Spock enters from the turbolift at the end in a very TMP way. I love that, it makes me feel like the people making the movie really care about the stories and the characters. When Spock Prime says good luck I felt all the weight of his relationship with his Jim and how it changed him. So lovely and touching.

And just how close they made Kirk and Spock stand, especially towards the end of the movie. They were always glued to each other in TOS and JJ must have known us Spirk shippers needed something to latch on to 😅

💫 There’s too much action in this movie for me. We didn’t need to see Scotty beamed into the water tank. The best sf stuff is always story based, I don’t need extravagant fights and cgi shit. I’m sure there are people who watch science fiction for the spectacle but I’m here for the ideas and the feelings.

💫 goddddd everything with Vulcan and losing Amanda. Rip all our hearts out why don’t you. Spock’s mom dying is just heartbreaking. I know they had to lose someone we knew to make the destruction of the planet more real to us as viewers but so crushing to see it.

💫 Old Spock 😭😭😭

He knows right away who Jim is and expects that Jim found him on purpose.

Old Spock just launched right in to the mind meld huh. To me this really says that he and his Jim are on very casual mind meld terms and he’s not fully understanding that this Jim is not his Jim.

Think about how fucking weird all this must be for old Spock. How heartbreakingly strange it would be so see a young version of your husband and send him to a young version of yourself. Meeting all your old friends young selves, years after you’ve lost them all.

And from here out it’s just miscellaneous thoughts I jotted down while watching that don’t fit great anywhere else:

⭐️I love when the redshirt is so excited to get the Romulans and Kirk gets this look like… that’s why you’re here? Dude the battle not the appeal here. A nice glimpse of how this Kirk is similar at heart to TOS Kirk.

⭐️Love you Sulu and your fencing skills

⭐️I love when they stop the lift for emotional reasons.

⭐️“Our destinies have changed” goddddd great speech Spock

⭐️Jim has the look of a man who is frequently escorted places by security

⭐️Spock wants to break Kirk so bad 😂

⭐️When Jim slaps Spock’s back and Spock has a look of “I think that just awakened something in me.”

⭐️Spock you’re calling him Jim already? You slut. (Delighted, affectionate)

Overall I think it’s a fun movie but it misses a lot of what’s at the heart of the classic Trek I love. They try to do everything too fast and it just doesn’t work as well for me. I’m excited to rewatch the next two and see how these versions of the characters change!

[donovanlizzie]

Hidden affections - Joe Liebgott

Masterlist

Band of brothers masterlist

The tension between Joe Liebgott and Y/N during basic training was palpable, their constant bickering earning them a reputation as the pair who couldn't stand each other. Yet, hidden beneath the surface, there was a strange connection that bound them together.

One evening at the bar, the air was thick with the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and the low hum of conversations.

She found herself watching Him from across the room, despite the tension that existed between them. His animated conversations with friends drew her attention, inadvertently coaxing a smile from her.

As she observed, George Luz snuck up behind her, curiosity etched on his face. "Who are you smiling at?" he asked, a playful tone in his voice.

However, his smile quickly faded and his expression shifted from playful to concerned as he followed her gaze to Joe Liebgott.

"Really? " George scoffed, looking at her like a disappointed parent "Liebgott?, after the way he acts around you?"

"It's complicated Luz" she replied, taking another sip of her beer.

Luz raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Complicated? That's one way to describe it. I mean, he acts like he can't stand you half the time."

She sighed, her gaze lingering on Joe as he laughed at something Talbert had said. "Yeah, well, maybe it's his way of dealing with things. Doesn't mean there's not something else there."

George smirked, leaning against the bar. "You're telling me there's something more to Liebgott than meets the eye? Colour me intrigued."

Chuckling she shook her head. "You wouldn't understand, Luz. It's like we're constantly at odds, but when it comes down to it, he's got my back. And I've got his."

George gave her a skeptical look. "Got his back? More like got each other's throats."

"Trust me, Luz, i know there's a lot more to Joe Liebgott than what he shows. " she replied cryptically, swirling her beer in her glass.

George sighed, "Well, just be careful. Liebgott's a complicated guy, and complicated usually means trouble."

She nodded in acknowledgment, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I can handle a little trouble."

--------------------------------------------------------

Liebgott sat at a nearby table, the conversation he was engrossed in had become irrelevant as his ear pricked up at the mention of Y/N's name from the table behind him , overhearing Roy Cobb, a fellow paratrooper, running his mouth about her to a group of new replacements.

"Y/n? Oh, you mean Easy Company's little sweetheart," Cobb remarked with a mocking tone, eliciting a few chuckles from the newcomers. "she's just a liability. She should've never shown her face in easy company! My bet is she's been playing the commander, putting on a show of competence that's going to get someone killed. Sobel should've gotten rid of her a long time ago."

Anger flared in Joe's eyes as he clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as Cobb continued to tarnish her name.

"And have you seen her? No wonder she hasn't found a man yet. Who would want to be with someone like her? It's not surprising she's still single; she's probably too busy ruining missions to care about settling down."

Unable to contain himself any longer, Joe jumped up from his table and approached Cobb's group with a scowl on his face.

"What the fuck did you just say about her?" Joe sneered at Cobb, who tried to laugh it off and reason with him. "Come on, Joe, you know what she's like – my bet is she's had half the company now-"

Before Cobb could finish his sentence, Joe's fist connected with his face, sending him sprawling to the floor. The commotion drew the attention of the entire bar, and the rest of Easy Company rushed to stop the impending fight.

She and Luz watched, exchanging puzzled glances. "What was that about?" She asked, concern furrowing her brow.

George shook his head. "I don't know, but Liebgott looks pissed."

As the men of Easy Company pulled Joe away from the scene, Cobb nursed his bleeding nose and shot a glare in her direction. She met his gaze with a cold intensity, her eyes daring him to say another word.

Joe, still seething, was restrained by his comrades. "You talk about her again, and I'll do more than just break your nose," he spat at Cobb, the words laced with a dangerous edge.

The bar returned to its uneasy quiet, the rumours quashed by the unexpected confrontation. Joe may have acted on impulse, but his protective instinct for her had been laid bare for everyone to see.

She watched as Joe stormed out of the bar in a huff, cursing under his breath. She placed her empty pint glass on the table in front of her and felt a sense of urgency to follow him. "Hey, where are you going?" George called out, walking back to the bar - no doubt to get another drink.

"Don't worry about it," she mumbled back, not wanting to explain as she made a beeline for the door Joe had just stormed out of. Once outside, the cold air hit her like a thousand tiny needles, causing her to shiver. Walking a few steps away from the door, she scanned the darkening area, the sun just starting to set, painting the sky with an orangey-red hue.

Her eyes fell upon Joe, leaning against one of the nearer barracks, smoking a cigarette. She took a deep breath and began walking towards him, the stones crunching under her shoes catching Joe's attention almost immediately , his jaw tightening in response.

"What are you doing out here?" Joe asked, stubbing out his cigarette. Ignoring Joe's question, She confronted him,

"What the hell was that back there?"

"Never you mind," Joe replied dismissively.

"Joseph Liebgott, I will mind. You punched a fellow paratrooper in the face!" Her tone carried a mix of disbelief and frustration, feeling as if she was scolding a schoolboy.

"Cobb said some shit that wasn't true, and I hit him – no big deal," Joe responded, trying to downplay the situation.

"What did he say, Joe?" She pressed, her voice rising a little.

"Damn it, Y/n, what is this, 21 questions?"

"Liebgott, tell me what he said!" She insisted, her frustration evident.

Joe sighed pushing off the barracks wall and walked over to her, the distance between them closing until they were almost nose to nose , his breath fanning her face, the smell of the recent cigarette lingering in the air.

Joe's gaze softened, and he let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I might not always show it, but I don't like hearing lies about people I... care about," he admitted gruffly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Her expression softened in return. "Care about? Liebgott, you're not known for being the sentimental type. Why would you care about what Cobb says about me?"

Joe hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching. "I hate to admit it, but... I don't like the idea of anyone talking crap about you. Especially when it's a load of bullshit."

Her eyes widened, surprised by his admission. "Joe Liebgott, did you just say something vaguely nice about me?"

He scoffed, trying to deflect. "Don't get used to it. I just... I don't know, I just don't like people thinking less of you because of some idiot's lies."

A small smile played on her lips. "Well, I appreciate that, Joe. It's strange, you know? Despite all the bickering, I never thought you'd... care."

Joe mumbled something incoherent, avoiding her gaze. The tension between them lingered, the unspoken words hanging in the cold air. , Feeling a mix of emotions, She took a step closer to Joe.

"I don't hate you, Y/n. I might not show it, but I..." Joe's gruff words trailed off, and before he could finish, She closed the remaining distance between them, pressing her lips against his. It was a moment of unexpected intimacy, fuelled by the unspoken emotions they both struggled to express.

Breaking the kiss, Joe sighed, his forehead resting against hers. "I hate to admit it, but I... I like you, a lot."

She looked at him, a mix of surprise and a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, that's something," she said, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Joe rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "Yeah, yeah, don't get used to it."

As they stood there, the realisation of the unexpected turn of events settled in. The tension that once hung between them had transformed into something different – something neither of them had anticipated.

[fantasblog]

CHAPTER 3: THE RETURN (scibill au/shift falls)

The morning after their intense night of investigation, the team was gathered in the Mystery Shack, reviewing their findings and preparing for the next steps. The air was filled with a mixture of anticipation and tension as they awaited any new developments.

Suddenly, a familiar, almost palpable energy filled the room. The temperature dropped, and a swirling vortex of light appeared in the center of the Shack. The group watched in awe as the vortex stabilized, revealing a figure stepping out from it. It was Stanford Pines, looking older but unmistakably recognizable, his presence commanding and intense.

Stanley’s eyes widened with a mix of relief and apprehension. “Stanford! You’re back!”

Stanford, his face a mask of complex emotions, stepped forward. His gaze was fixed on Stanley, and his expression hardened. “Stanley… It’s been a long time. You’ve done quite a job making things complicated.”

Stanley’s relief quickly turned into confusion and concern. “Stanford, we’ve been trying to find you! We thought we lost you forever.”

Stanford’s eyes flared with anger. “And you’ve done so much to make things worse. I had hoped that after all these years, you might have understood the gravity of what happened. Instead, I find you entangled with forces beyond your control.”

Dipper, still processing the gravity of the situation, stepped forward cautiously. “You’re… the author of the journals. We’ve read your writings. You’re the one who documented the strange occurrences in Gravity Falls.”

Stanford’s gaze shifted to Dipper, his anger momentarily giving way to a flicker of surprise and curiosity. “You’ve read them? So you know something of what I went through.”

Dipper nodded. “We’ve been trying to understand the mysteries of Gravity Falls. Your journals have been a huge part of that. But… what happened? Why are you so angry?”

Stanford’s eyes darkened with frustration. “I was betrayed by those I trusted, forced into exile in a dimension I could barely comprehend. I’ve spent thirty years trying to rectify the damage and understand what went wrong. And now, I return to find my brother involved with entities like Bill Cipher.”

Bill, standing slightly apart, observed the interaction with an inscrutable expression. “Stanford, it’s been a long time. You’ve missed quite a lot, including the evolution of Gravity Falls and the people in it.”

Stanford’s anger flared again as he looked at Bill. “You. You’re part of the reason my life was turned upside down. What do you want now?”

Bill’s tone was almost taunting. “Oh, I’m just a curious observer. I’m interested in seeing how the pieces fall into place, especially with someone like you back in the mix.”

Stanley took a deep breath, stepping between Stanford and Bill. “Stanford, we need to focus on the bigger picture. We’ve been dealing with anomalies and disturbances here in Gravity Falls. We need your help to fix this mess.”

Stanford’s expression softened slightly as he looked at Stanley. “Help? After everything that’s happened, you want my help?”

Stanley nodded firmly. “Yes. We’re all in this together. Whatever happened in the past, we need to put it aside and focus on resolving the issues at hand.”

Stanford hesitated, then looked around at the assembled team. His gaze settled on Dipper and Mabel, who had been actively involved in the search for him. “I see that you’ve been working hard to understand what’s happening here. Perhaps there’s something to be salvaged after all.”

With a begrudging nod, Stanford began to discuss the anomalies and disturbances with the team, sharing his insights and knowledge. As they worked together, the atmosphere slowly began to shift from one of tension to cooperation.

The return of Stanford Pines marked a turning point in their quest. With his knowledge of the journals and his firsthand experience with the supernatural forces at play, the team gained a valuable ally in their efforts to address the mysteries of Gravity Falls.

As they continued to collaborate, the hope of resolving the challenges before them grew stronger. The bonds between the Pines family, their friends, and even Bill Cipher were tested, but their shared goal of understanding and protecting Gravity Falls united them in their quest.

.

.

As Stanford began to rejoin the team, he and the others quickly set to work analyzing the recent anomalies and disturbances in Gravity Falls. With the combined expertise of Stanford, Bill Cipher, and Fiddleford McGucket, they formed a plan to investigate the core of these disturbances.

Stanford pulled out his old journal and laid it on the table. The pages were filled with sketches, notes, and theories about the supernatural phenomena in Gravity Falls. “This journal contains information on the dimensional rifts and the entities that might be causing these disruptions. We’ll need to use it to pinpoint the source of the anomalies.”

Dipper, eager to contribute, asked, “What can we do to help? How can we use this information to find the source?”

Stanford flipped through the journal, stopping at a page marked with an intricate diagram of a dimensional rift. “We need to create a device that can track the specific frequency of these rifts. It will allow us to zero in on their origin.”

Mabel, ever optimistic, chimed in, “We can help with the building and testing! We’ve been getting pretty good at dealing with weird gadgets.”

Stanley nodded in agreement. “We’ll set up a workspace here in the Shack. McGucket, you and I will handle the technical aspects of the device. The kids and Wendy can assist with the research and fieldwork.”

Bill Cipher, intrigued by the unfolding plan, added, “While you work on the device, I can help gather more information on the dimensional fluctuations. My sources might provide additional insights.”

As the team split up to tackle their tasks, the atmosphere in the Mystery Shack became one of determined activity. The construction of the tracking device required precise work and coordination, with McGucket and Stanley meticulously assembling the components. Meanwhile, Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy researched the recent disturbances, documenting their findings and testing preliminary theories.

Over the next few days, the team made significant progress. The tracking device was nearing completion, and they had gathered enough data to identify a few potential locations of high dimensional activity.

One evening, as they were finalizing the device, Bill Cipher approached Stanford with a more personal tone. “Stanford, I must admit, I’m curious. What do you intend to do once we locate the source of these disturbances?”

Stanford looked up from his work, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty. “I intend to fix what was broken. If there are forces at play that threaten Gravity Falls and the dimensions beyond, we need to neutralize them. It’s a chance to correct some of the wrongs of the past.”

Bill’s eyes glinted with a hint of amusement. “Ah, the classic quest for redemption. Well, I suppose I can’t fault you for that.”

The next morning, the team was ready to test the device. They set up a field station in one of the locations identified as a potential epicenter for the disturbances. As they activated the device, it began to emit a series of beeps and lights, signaling the presence of a dimensional rift nearby.

Dipper, holding the device, looked at Stanford. “We’re getting a strong reading. Should we proceed?”

Stanford nodded, his face set with resolve. “Yes. Let’s see where this leads.”

Following the device’s readings, the team ventured into the woods surrounding Gravity Falls. The atmosphere grew tense as they approached the source of the rift. The air shimmered, and an unnatural energy crackled around them.

Suddenly, they arrived at a clearing where the rift was visible, a swirling vortex of energy pulsating in the air. The team watched in awe as the rift’s chaotic energy shifted and swirled.

Stanley turned to Stanford. “This is it. What do we do now?”

Stanford took a deep breath, his expression a mix of determination and apprehension. “We need to stabilize the rift and identify its source. It might be linked to whatever is causing the disturbances.”

As they prepared to act, the team knew that they were on the brink of uncovering significant truths about the forces affecting Gravity Falls. The rift’s energy promised both danger and discovery, and the resolution of their quest was within reach.

With their combined efforts and the knowledge gained from their journey, they were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, united in their mission to protect their world and seek answers to the mysteries that had long haunted them.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

[lopposting]

I think carlo died shortly after his graduation, at the rose estate incident, when the disease was purposefully unleashed on a group of people.

The strange circumstances surrounding Carlo's death.

We're told through the loading screens that "Geppetto's son" died from the petrification disease, but there's also a couple of baffling details about his death.

The Stalker

The stalker makes a series of cryptic comments that don't seem to add up with what we are being told through-game.

My god... No... I'm sorry... I was too late... I wish I'd got here sooner... If I had known this would happen...

If Carlo was already infected by the time we see him talking to the stalker and before his collapse, then he would already have been for dead. "If I had known this would happen.." If she had known what would happen, then what could she have done if she got there sooner? If he died from a disease she could not have prevented, then why is she too late? Yes, it's not impossible for her to feel that way, or that she shouldn't prevent the earlier death of a dying boy, but it still strikes me as odd if Carlo ultimately died from disease related complications.

And if Carlo died from the disease, then why is the stalker involved at all?

The uniform

We see his death "first-hand", and he's lying on the floor, seemingly still dressed in his school uniform. [He's lying face up, almost as though to show us the easily identifiable tassel]

From what we see of the disease's victims (Antonia, Sophia, NPCS, and Romeo), and because of the nature of disease itself, it seems as though it's a slow and suffering end. If he died from disease, we would have expected some time to have passed between his meeting the stalker and his death. And yet, he seems to have died not long after his graduation. Why do we know this? Because he is still wearing his school uniform.

Who knows, maybe he just liked wearing it. But it's this little detail coupled with other factors that makes it seem strange.

The petrification disease

Carlo came from aristocracy, and we can see that the very wealthy and affluent people of Krat could afford medical care (namely, Antonia). Death by the petrification disease seems to be long, slow, and suffering, as Sophia seems to allude [as is the nature of disease in general]. But above all - the disease is by name and by nature, debilitating.

And yet, Carlo seems to be neither hospitalized nor quarantined, and seemingly died wearing the uniform. If some time had passed between his graduation and his death, would Carlo have snuck out somewhere, sick to the brink of death, dressed in his school uniform of all things, only to collapse and be found by the stalker? He would barely have been able to move.

[Is his graduation and the school outfit meant to tell us that it has been mere hours between him meeting the stalker and his death?]

Why are we being shown this memory?

All of the memories we see are what we can infer to be important or pivotal moments in Carlo's life. But what about this one? Why are WE the audience being shown this?

We see him as a distressed child over being left at a boarding school, and we see what is perhaps the very moment he lost all faith in his father, and we see his death. These are all pivotal moments. But it's the importance of the stalker that confused me. All of these moments seem emotionally charged, and sure, this was probably a bad memory for the deceased Carlo; But surely he had a plethora of them. What's so important about Carlo being rejected by the stalker?

It crumbles into dust, and several yards later we see the same person standing over his body, saying she was too late. The stalker memory is immediately followed by Carlo's death. I think the reason we're seeing this moment is because we're supposed to assume that this is what lead to his death. The graduation memory "ends" with her arrival ["Oh, She's here! Grab her!"], and she's later seen mourning over his body, so there's an almost immediate connection with his death, and between the last memory and the previous one.

Carlo's ergo

Maybe he was attacked, instead? But Carlo must've had the petrification disease, because we have his Ergo, and Ergo is the "natural" result of the disease. Non-withstanding the game's entire plot, Pino undeniably has his Ergo: his memories appear to us in the end section of the game, and we remember things we could not possibly have remembered ("Carlo").

And yet!!! [again].. Let's make some assumptions, that Carlo was perfectly healthy otherwise on the day of his graduation. He is rejected by the stalker, who then leaves, and not long after, she has returned to find him dead of the petrification disease. If it hasn't been much time, and he appeared otherwise completely healthy when meeting the stalker, he appears to have succumbed to the disease within hours.

The Rose estate incident

If Carlo died in the Rose estate incident - in which a great number of people were killed, why does the stalker stand over Carlo specifically, as if she’s personally “responsible”?

And If the attack at the Rose Estate was indeed a biological one (in which the disease was purposely unleashed on a group of people), and both Romeo and Carlo had not yet contracted it by the time they were graduating; there would have been some time in between his graduation, the stalker, and his actual death. Why would Carlo have succumbed so quickly to the disease - shortly after we see him meeting the stalker - when others, namely Romeo, seemed to have survived for longer [long enough at least to strike a "deal with the devil" to fight the epidemic]? I'm not sure. But if we can ignore the details of exactly how he died, I can make a couple of assumptions of what happened.

Putting it all together

What I think happened is that the Rose Estate attack happened on the last day of school, and that the attack was a biological one. If Carlo and Romeo grew up in a world without the petrification disease, then this would be the moment it was unleashed on their world. If he died in the Rose Estate attack, and he was at school, then it reasonably had to have been the final day he was there [because the school was closed after the attack].

Carlo asked her to teach him. What's she going to do, drop everything and train him right then and there? When we see Carlo asking to be trained by her, ostensibly he is asking her to take him with her ("I'm off"). The reason why she feels partially responsible for his death is because if she had taken him with her at that moment, then he would not have been there when the incident took place.

Also, we know that Gemini stayed behind with Carlo, who is said to have been a friend of Sophia's, and later became our little lamp guy. So if he were a stalker, this is where he would've also contracted the disease.

To reiterate, assuming that the stalker could have prevented his death entirely - shortly after meeting her is when Carlo got sick at the Monad house. If he had left, he would not have been there to contract any disease. I think Carlo being left behind was what "killed" him.

Why Graduation day?

As we can see, Carlo is lamenting that his father didn't show up for what is presumably his ceremony. This an event in which parents, caregivers, and community members would be expected to attend, meaning the school would have been open to outsiders.

Why the charity house?

Because of the Monad family, Sophia, and to overthrow Valentinus.

Some more loose assumptions and thoughts

The graduation ceremony is when (I’m assuming) the parents come to pick up their children. 

“He didn’t even come to your graduation?” 

So this ceremony has passed already. Would the parents show up to the ceremony, leave, and come back to pick up the kids on the next day at a boarding school? Probably not. They were probably there to pick up their children. Maybe the orphaned kids were staying at the charity house? [To be honest, I'm not sure how boarding schools work]

When Lampwick says, “It’s lucky you have any family at all”, perhaps it suggests that he had no background. Meaning both Carlo and Lampwick were left behind at the charity house on graduation, hence they both got sick. If Geppetto had shown up and taken Carlo home, he probably would’ve lived. So the graduating class of the charity house are leaving, and Carlo is asking to go with the legendary stalker?

It doesn’t sound like two boys grappling with the end of their lives. If they are infected at this point they don’t know it.

I'm guessing this is akin to high school, given that they were training to be stalkers, and specializing in your field would be like post-secondary.

[katakosmos]

fic terrible things?!? i scrolled through the tag, saw the names tom and barty and practically started skipping around. drop the lore irene pleaseeeeeeee

hi royal 😈

soooo, my dear fic, my precious baby is a rosekiller in a "the secret history" au. barty starts university and he develops a real obsession with a group of students (regulus, pandora and evan) who isolate themselves from the rest of the school. they're smart, spoiled, and barty wants to be part of their group at any cost.

pandora, regulus and evan have a very close relationship with tom, the philosophy teacher. he was so impressed by them that he offered to give them private philosophy lessons in the afternoon (this happened a year before barty arrived). but, unlike the normal philosophy lessons he gives at school (where he teaches and explains the thought of ancient philosophers), he encourages the three (and then barty) to develop their own thoughts. so these lessons are real discussions, a bit like those we see in the secret history (even if they'll never be at the same level LOL).

all the characters in this fic are very mysterious and have extremely complicated lives and, since barty came last, we only see his point of view (and what he thinks he knows), when in reality much of the story is unknown.

the more you read, the more you realize how strange and incomprehensible the characters are. everything around barty happens for a reason... but he doesn't know it. and in the end, after overcoming a strange friendship with pandora and an even stranger conversation with regulus, he finds himself trapped: completely in love with evan, in an obsessive and unhealthy way.

well, i can't spoil too much, but... would it really be a the secret history au without a murder? no 🫣

so, yeah, i'm really really excited about this fic. writing it is taking me so long, but i can't wait to finish and then post it cause i'm extremely happy with how it's turning out. many of my headcanons about barty, evan, pandora and regulus will be in it.

if you have other questions please ask!!

[glossglamour]

The Doctor is in the House: A 2011 Article on House M.D.

BY SHERI LEVINE, POSTMEDIA NEWS NOVEMBER 17, 2011

LOS ANGELES - Paging Dr. House. After eight years, Hugh Laurie is still keeping House's heart beating. And while the medical mysteries may serve as plots for the long-running medical drama, it's Laurie's alter ego, the man himself, Dr. Gregory House, who keeps people tuning in for their weekly fix.

Laurie, who made a name for himself as a comedic actor in his native England, was relatively unknown to North American audiences when House first aired. Of course, that's no longer the case. The multi-talented Laurie -- who recently released a fine album of New Orleans-inspired blues music -- has become a huge star across the pond, as well as one of the highest-paid actors on TV.

"I highly doubt that," says a modest Laurie, who actually seems embarrassed by the very notion that he would rank so high on the actors' payroll. Clearly, he doesn't take his good fortune for granted. Laurie calls himself "a lottery winner" with the great success he's achieved on House.

Dressed casually in a blue, button-down shirt, black pants and black and white sneakers, or trainers (as the Brits would say), Laurie rests his cappuccino cup and saucer on the table in front of him. The charismatic Englishman playfully takes on the group of international journalists who have invaded his turf.

In person, the affable Laurie smiles easily, laughs frequently and seems to never be at a loss for a witty response or anecdote. He is adorably charming, with piercing, blue eyes -- an intense blue not picked up on camera.

It's oddly amusing to see the man -- who plays such a cynical, depressive, perpetually grumpy person, week in and week out -- so happy. Of course, that's the mark of any good actor. But as creator and executive producer, Canadian David Shore, says: "He didn't become House, he WAS House."

Laurie's strong comedic roots may have been what resonated so strongly with Shore upon seeing Laurie's audition tape.

"I venture to guess that, actually, that's part of the reason that I'm here," says Laurie. "Unless this character had a sort of grace and a wit about him, he would be just too much of a pain in the ass, really. The elegance of the way his mind works, and the speed at which it works, is part of his charm, if he has any. Now, lots of people would say he doesn't have any. I disagree. I find him immensely charming.

"I'm not sure I would put up with him as a best friend, but I do find him endlessly entertaining. And I find . . . the references he draws on, the way he seeks out people's weaknesses in such a cruel and horrible way, I find he does at least do it with wit."

House has become an iconic character, largely due to Laurie's flawless portrayal of a brilliant doctor with a horrible bedside manner whose asinine qualities are overshadowed by his brilliance. He's not really an ass, he just acts like one . . . a lot.

The antithesis of House is his best friend, Dr. James Wilson (Robert Sean Leonard). One might even go so far as to say it's their friendship that humanizes House, and is a big part in sustaining the show's success.

"One of the things I'm proudest of in the show is that relationship," says Shore. "I think that it's something you don't see on TV very often -- the male friendship explored," he says.

Leonard weighs in: "His actions are what count. It's the only relationship on the show that's not tied to any employment. I don't work for him and he doesn't work for me, and it's not true of any other character on the show. So we're the only two characters that have actually chosen to be together."

The onscreen pals are also good friends off-screen, a likely contributing factor to the genuine House-Wilson dynamic.

"Well, now that we've stopped sleeping together, it's a lot more comfortable in every way, physically, as well," jokes Leonard. "I don't know. He's very complicated. He's a very strange guy. He's very funny. He's like most of the people I like in my life: tortured, miserable, and just a pain in the ass," Leonard says (referring to Laurie, not House, just in case you were confused).

As to whether this is the show's last season, David Shore says he's undecided.

"I'm not being coy, I'm just honestly not that well ordered," admits Shore. "I would love to and I would hate to (continue the show). It's been a wonderful opportunity for me. It's just been amazing on so many different levels, and I'm continuing to find new and interesting things to do with it. But it's been eight years. It's a long time to do a show. And so I really am not sure what's going to happen."

In the end, Shore says the show is ultimately about "trying to change, but we inevitably fail."

"But if we don't keep trying to change, we're just going to slide completely backwards. I think House would like to be the type of person who could do things differently. But he's not, and he will never (be)."

What does this mean for the fate of Dr. Gregory House?

"I'm not going to change his character for the end of the show," says Shore. "It may not be a miserable ending, but (House) is not going to ride off into the sunset with love."

--- (source) ---

this one surprisingly only took me like twenty minutes to find. my favourite part is when shore says that house is not going to ride off into the sunset with love and yet .

[nrdmssgs]

Activision doesn't understand, how Russian language works

Spoilers to CoD MW3 below the cut.

@sofasoap @siilvan @cumikering @stag-beetle-wastaken @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot be my guests.

First and most important: this rant is not aimed to 'make Russian culture great again'. I am not offended as a representative of some cultural or linguistic group. But as a member of gaming community, I feel, as if Activision... kinda didn't give a flying f about the gaming experience, that they are trying to sell me for 60 Euros. And I can't say, I like this feeling.

Second: I will be criticizing some approaches to language, that I will never criticize in fanfiction. Because you guys are doing it for free, for the sake of having fun. So I will be ok with you just straight using Google translate to write e.g. Nikolais lines in Russian. Because you never ask me to pay 60 Euros for the right to read your works. With that being mentioned, lets roll!

Activision doesn't pay attention to their own script, when it comes to Russian lines

Ok, this is a major issue. Because Activision sometimes gives completely different information in character line and in the subtitles. And it is not some minor information, we are talking about major plot details!

Let's just watch 20 seconds of a playthrough (time code 8:44)

Pay attention closely to how Makarov starts his monologue after Nolan says "Its an honor, commander". Makarovs subtitles say 'four years', when Makarov says something like 'shest let'. "four" in Russian is "chetyre", "six" is "shest`". These words sound nothing alike! And to check this, you literally need 5 seconds on google translate! Here, Activision, I did your work for you and I don't even ask for 60 freaking Euros! You learn these numbers on your second-third lesson of Russian 101!

There are ways to fix this scene. There are even ways to do it without reshooting Julian (because ok, I get it, maybe he costs so much, that all our 60 Euros purchases would never help Activision to economically recover...). All you need is to ask him to record TWO WORDS!

Activision doesn't care for wording even in the simplest proverbs

You remember a saying "enemy of my enemy is my friend"? I mean, of course you do, even John Price remembers it! And you know, who forgot this saying? Activision did! Because honest to god, I was very happy with our new Yuri, until he produced this ominous linguistic construction... (time code 56:10)

And if you think, it sounds just a tad off in English... Well, in Russian this sounds, as if a Colonel, a man, who spent tenths of years constantly communicating with soldiers, superiors, officials, started learning Russian... a month ago.

This is an international proverb, it exists in many languages! Now this is a safe case to use an automatic translator! It gives you a very simple answer.

But for some mysterious reason, Activision writes their strange line, translate to russian and find a poor-working synonym so that Yuri doesn't say 'opponent' twice... And in the end it kinda still makes sense, but this whole phrase sounds so off!! You never choose this sick long, overloaded wording for a proverb, that you literally learn at school. They just make it look like zarin is already there and it affects Yuri heavily.

This is just one example, but in reality, almost every Makarovs monologue sounds very strangely formulated. I just got you one example, but believe me, this is a systematic issue here. And the strangest thing is that all their errors are so easy to fix, but they never bothered!

Activision doesn't care for how Russian sounds

Ok, this is not a rant against Julian Kostov. The guy does his wor absolutely gorgeous! He steals every scene, where he appears, and I have nothing, but respect for him. However... Russian is a complicated language. For real. It is full of long words, with many unfamiliar for European ear sounds. It is not only difficult to understand it - it is complicated even to imitate it.

Now apparently Julian knows Russian to some extent just because of his origin and age. But that doesn't save him from swallowing some letters, syllables, sometimes even big parts of words. And when it happens in almost every line of his character - it becomes an issue. An issue, when even Russian-speaker has to read subtitles to understand, what is going on in a scene with two Russian characters!

This whole scene is a nightmare (time code 1:42:54). Replaced letters, disappearance of parts of words, strange accents - they collected a bingo on this one.

And I dont blame actors here! Because on every shooting there is a director - a guy, who is responsible for how overall scene will look and sound in the end. There is always a possibility to find someone, who actually speaks the language and make them sit and listen! And if there are many issues with pronunciation revealed - you just come to your actors and say 'guys, you did amazing jobs, we are so happy to work with you. Now can we please do another shot and pay attention to these lines of yours?'.

And believe me, it is ok to have multiple shots for ingame cutscenes! Actors are ok with that! I don't ask for a perfect pronunciation, I just ask Activision to make sure, their characters don't sound as if they are speaking gibberish!

The most strange part here is that there are super-clean lines in game as well! Milena spoke with accent too, but she sounded clear! Some NPCs sounded perfect!

So Im sorry, but at the end of the day - this your most accurate Russian character by Activision. Because he chose to speak English.

[cripplecharacters]

hi! long ask up next.

I'm not sure if this is the right blog for this question, i'm really sorry if it's not. I'm part of a theatre class/group that is putting on Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream. The teacher has a very specific vision in mind that i generally vibe with. However, she's asking me to play a character in a way that might be offensive. I play two characters, one of them is Snug. There's a play within the play that an incompetent artisan theatre troupe is putting on, which snug is a part of. In our version, snug is meant to have a speech impediment (the teacher hasnt given me more specific directions on how to talk). I did a bit of research and decided that my version of snug has dysarthria (no dysphasia or aphasia) from a degenerative disease that he inherited from his dad. Im trying to play him as having distorsion and omission type articulation errors, in the initial and medial positions respectively, but it's been very hard for me to consistently play him like that becuase i dont have his disability. The only correction the teacher has given me so far is to speak slower so my dialogue is more comprehensible.

Now, i shouldn't have, but i did watch some scenes on youtube with snug in them. And none of the versions i saw give him a speech sound disorder, from what i could tell. What most versions do have in common though, is that the artisans who are putting on the play are, for lack of a better term, meant to be "dumb". Snug specifically has a line which i didn't realize was supposed to be a dig at his own intelligence until i saw a clip. The line is:

Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study.

In the video i saw, the actor paused briefly after saying "slow", for emphasis:

for I am slow... of study.

I'm autistic and i know what it's like for people to assume i'm "slow" because of how i talk, and i don't want to promote those stereotypical views.

What makes this whole conundrum more complicated for me is that our version is going to be (sort of?) a musical. And my teacher is adamant on me rapping an eminem song. I thought this would be fun but thinking about it more carefully i worry that the joke might be that snug is faking his disability for some reason, and that he can actually speak "normally".

sorry if some of this isnt clear, english is not my first language.

Anon S

Hello! I wanted to address this ask as a former actor and current student studying speech language pathology as well as someone with an articulation disorder.

You can give a backstory in your head as detailed as you want - and as an actor this is a good thing, and something you should do with every role no matter how complicated or simple - but the unfortunate truth is most audience members are not going to interpret it exactly the same way without the same context. You may be thinking of portraying a mixed dysarthria (and there are many types of dysarthria, from spastic to flaccid to ataxic, to mixed that will all have difference in sound quality, articulation, and rate) but unless it's written somewhere the audience, who is just noticing a slow rate and articulation errors, and who may not even be aware of what dysarthria is, may think your character has some dialect or strange difference they don't recognize.

From my knowledge of the play, the Rude Mechanicals are meant to be laughed at and this falls into the idea that people with certain speech patterns or disorders are funny or silly or even, yes, stupider than others. However, there's not much you can do about this if your director is insistent other than refuse to treat your character as a joke. I would feel better about a character with consistent errors and whose disability was thought through than one who wasn't, even with a character like a Rude Mechanical.

As for a disability disappearing during a rap, for something like stuttering that would make sense but not for an articulation disorder and certainly not for dysarthria, which causes a slower rate normally and can cause articulation issues due to coordination of the parts used to speak (not only the mouth but also the soft and hard palates and the lungs, for example). I would talk to your director about what the point of the rap is - is it to be funny? is it to show another side of him? why does this character need a speech disorder? why does this character need to rap, and why does the speech disorder need to be dropped during the rap?

If you can talk with your director and figure out what the vision is for some honestly bizarre choices it may help you figure out if you're on the right track (and if dysarthria is the right choice for a disorder for your character, as well). As always, if anyone has advice or input please feel free to add it!

[chaggieslovechild]

so i rewatched dad beat dad today and i have a new "theory"

i think it's safe to say that alastor gets pissed off by lucifer (hate might be too much of a strong word) but why is that? I've seen some people theorize that has something to do with (if we assume correctly) lilith being the one who has him on a leash, but i actually thought... maybe he has that reaction because lucifer, or his relationship with charlie (or both) reminds him of his own dad

like we know that alastor notoriously gets along better with women rather then men, and viv said he is a momma's boy. she also said in a recent q&a with the cast that he gets pissed off by lucifer bc he's more powerful than him and that kinda makes sense but..... i wanna read more into it so I'm ignoring her saying

when lucifer gets to the hotel he immediately aggressively hugs charlie and alastor's eye twitches a little bit, i can't help but think that maybe it reminded him of being in charlie's place one day, having a relationship with a stranged father (to say the least). maybe he puts that frustrating feeling together with the fact that not only this is charlie's father, but also LUCIFER, king of hell, most powerful creature in all the realm. he could end alastor's ass with a snap of his fingers if he truly wanted but luckily for him, he is mostly chill just like charlie

so, alastor finds himself in a too familiar position that he doesn't like: having to be "inferior" to a man who is a father and a higher authority in one way or another. when lucifer asks about the bar they get into a bit of banter which ends by alastor literally saying "fuck you" to lucifer and charlie stepping in. which surprised a lot of fans for a good reason, 'cus so far we've only seen alastor as he presents himself mostly: a well-mannered gentleman. but it was so easy for lucifer to get under his skin in so little time, that perhaps he got taken over by anger - not a "I'm gonna slaughter everyone" anger, but a human anger of "I'm in a shit position and I can't do anything about it but I'm really angry about it". so that's why he just outright says fuck you to lucifer, it's not a "I don't care if you're the king of hell I'm not afraid of you fuck you", it's a "i know the type of father you are (because i had one similar) and it's a shit behavior so fuck you"

but lucifer doesn't get shaken by it, he pretty much has no reaction to it and that keeps alastor angry. he realizes that charlie and lucifer have a distant and complicated relationship, so he tries a different tactic: hey btw I'm closer to a father figure to your daughter then you actually are, and THAT gets under lucy's skin. when he gets into song, alastor just takes the opportunities to hijack it and keep pissing him off

there's also something else, that when lucy and charlie sings more then anything, everyone at the hotel is looking at them, including alastor and he looks... satisfied, to say the least. maybe not happy, but he definitely isn't angry or frustrated by the situation of charlie and lucifer making up. dare i say he almost looks proud, as in "yep my job here is done"

maybe he just wanted to piss lucifer off bc it reminded him of his own father, but he accidentally made him and charlie get on better terms and making up, and he's not entirely bothered by it. he accidentally made a good thing, but either he (1) doesn't realize it at the moment or (2) he just doesn't see it that way (maybe he thinks that lucy and charlie won't be in good terms for long or whatever)

and as of later in the episode, even in the series there isn't a lot more of this alastor and lucifer's relationship. in the last episode, when alastor shows up lastly to the group hug, we see two characters annoyed by his presence: husk and lucifer. so i think that alastor pulling the "I'm more of a father figure to charlie then you will ever be" card REALLY affected lucifer, he just isn't showing it off. yet at least.

the bit in the finale before the final fight, alastor says to niffty that "maybe he could get used to other's presence", or he gets entertained by it, something among these lines. i think maybe this is the first time that he verbally, consciously admits that maybe he likes the people in the hotel, but that little moment - at the beginning of more than anything, where he watches lucifer and charlie singing, that was actually the first time that he cared about someone in the hotel, it's just that neither him or anyone else realized it.

tl; dr: alastor "hates" lucifer bc it reminds him of his own dad and while trying to piss lucifer off he accidentally makes him and charlie make up and he's satisfied by that outcome but he doesn't realize it