#incredible 'idea to practical execution' performance! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dpr-stay · 1 year ago

Text

Shadow | FA14

Fernando Alonso x Wolff!Reader

Written and SMAU

Warnings: General Crack, Reader was pregnant at one point, reader is female, egregious ignoring of real world events.

WC: ~2.9k (she small)

Reader is just that girl in this one, sorry. Also how easy is it to tell i’m not 40 years old. Anyways, not edited and just written because i had the idea. When will i actually write romance and not just scenarios?

Being the sister of anyone related to any sport meant your face would be known within the community, whether you wanted it to or not. The number of people increased exponentially when the person you were related to was someone incredibly important within that community.

For example, your brother was Toto Wolff, a billionaire who was the Team Principal of a fairly well known F1 team. You might not have heard of them, Mercedes might ring a bell? This meant you were unwittingly paired with F1 wherever you went.

Whether it be a function for one of the many hospitals or health care clinics you’d set up or even one of the many charity gala’s you’d played a part in funding, you’d always be asked a question or two about formula one and whatever DRS is.

Honestly, you didn’t mind it at first, always laughing it off with grace and even playing into some rivalries at times, but as you got older and you achieved more things past having a rich brother, it began to get annoying. I mean, you weren’t even that far off his net worth, only around a billion, surely that was more interesting than what your favourite spice girls song was? (You answered ‘Spice up your life’)

So, sure, the fact that even the questions reporters shouted at you as you walked from your car to your front door was about your brothers doing’s instead of your own did piss you off a little. You were only human after all, and having your achievements ignored in favour of your brother’s continually grated at you.

However, you were loyal and never let that get the best of you. Even after performing a heart transplant, you could entertain some 24 year old journalism student about what you thought your brother's funniest moment was in order to maintain his brand.

That was a situation similar to the one you found yourself in right now. You’d walked out of the office at around 9 at night, the toll of the amount of paperwork that came with managing four medical practices and countless other endeavours taking it’s time to break you down.

You were on your phone, your do-not-disturb on as you scrolled through your contacts. The time-distance didn’t bother you, it was probably morning for whoever you were trying to call anyway.

The fact you hadn’t really been looking around, instead focused on the phone ringing in your hand, as you sludged from the elevator to your car that was parked the furthest possible distance from the elevator (surely as the CEO you could have a private park) didn’t work in your favour as a group of reporters jump-scared you by calling your name.

You jolted, whipping around and holding your keys in between your fingers, prepared to stab someone. But, at seeing the shocked and surprised faces of the journalists and the shine of the camera lenses they were pointing at you, you withdrew your hand, executing a perfectly practiced relieved sigh.

“Sorry, you scared me there.” You said laughing, gesturing in front of you with your phone, quickly hanging it up as the call was answered, a dumb ‘Hello?’ not having the chance to echo through the garage. The reporters thankfully brushed it off and started a spiel about ‘results’ and ‘engines’ and blah blah blah.

You tuned it out, hopefully maintaining a politefully interested face through the ordeal. It was nice that they hadn’t commented on the eye-bags you were harbouring or the smell of cat vomit that was emanating from your clothes after a poorly timed spew from your cat over your laundry this morning.

The curling lip and tightening nostrils of one of the camera men had you trying to resist smiling as the man holding the microphone kept going, though you quietly reprimanded yourself about not spraying more perfume as you left your office.

“Regardless of results, do you still think of Mercedes as your favourite F1 team?” The reporter finally asked, you snapping back from staring at the exposed wiring that lined the roof of the garage. A smile was plastered across your face as you responded.

“Of course! I’m big on family loyalty so yeah, Mercedes will always be my favourite team.” You said, pursing your lips and shrugging. The reporters exchanged glances and you minutely tilted your head at their reaction, curious. Were they not expecting that? The interviewer glanced at his colleagues before he turned to you again, microphone perched and ready to be used.

“Have you seen any news recently?” He asked as impartially as possible. You raised an eyebrow. Now, what did that mean? Had Toto said something mean about you? Did Mercedes collapse overnight?

You doubted either of those were the reasons, you’d have definitely heard of it. A quick glance at your apple watch revealed the opposite however, the over 1000+ missed notifications you had displayed as you fidgeted with the scroll wheel. Due to the display screen being small, you couldn’t see much but you saw a lot of driver’s names, ‘AHHHHH’s, and questions about Toto’s mental health. What on earth had happened while your cat had been retching on your business wear?

You decided to play it safe, teasing the reporters while not revealing if you had seen the news or not. A raised eyebrow and a hand bringing itself to your hip hopefully clued them in to your goading intentions as you answered.

“Is this news the reason you are trespassing on private property?” The whole crew somehow blanched as they took in the fact you were right. The garage was locked unless they had a security card but, as the creator of the company, you knew of the small chain link fence on the ground floor which could be pulled back and crawled under.

You patiently awaited their responses, glancing between all of their faces as they collectively tried to come up with a reply. The hive-mind didn’t succeed though, you eventually calling it after a few awkward seconds, sighing before giving them what they wanted.

“What’s the news?” You asked, almost begrudgingly watching as the interviewer’s eyes lit up. You recognised that look, the look of an intern realising they could finally be paid for their work, as you’d lived it many times.

“You are Fernando Alonso’s celebrity crush!” The reporter said, the collective watching you with baited breaths as you processed their words. Now, as an almost fourty year old woman with a successful business and job, you weren’t quite sure what reaction they wanted. Say, twenty years ago, you probably would’ve been able to put on a performance, fanning yourself as a dopey smile filled your face.

But you had more pressing things to worry about, such as if you’d get home before your daughter had to be put to bed. You were already pushing it, staying at the office so late, and you knew the disapproving glance the baby-sitter you’d hired would have once you got home would make you feel worse.

So you reacted the only way you could think of at that moment.

“Oh, yeah that. I already knew that.” You said dismissively, waving a hand as if to swat a fly from your face. The look on the group’s faces was pretty similar all around, confusion.

“So, you have seen the news?” The reporter asked hesitantly, slightly dropping their microphone and you shook your head, an deliberately incredulous look crossing your face.

“No…? Is that really the news that made you break into my company’s garage?” You asked, disbelief leaking into your voice as you looked all of them in the eye. The corners of your mouth raised slightly.

“So wait, you knew you were Fernando Alonso’s celebrity crush without seeing the interview?” The interviewer drew your attention back and you nodded along with their words.

“Yeah.” You said simply and then thought before adding, “Though I wouldn’t quite say I’m a celebrity.”

The group of reporters had unknowingly stumbled on a gold mine, something that your tired brain refused to accept and something they didn’t even know. You’d probably have to play it safe from here on out, careful not to reveal too much about how you knew that Fernando felt that way about you. Sorry, Fernando Alonso felt that way about you.

“Whaaa.. You’ve never said anything or done anything?” The reporter asked, leaning in closer, the microphone coming dangerously close to touching your lips. You looked down at it and drew back before starting to speak.

“Well, no. Just because I knew about it doesn’t mean I should do something about it. I said I’m loyal to Mercedes, I’m not breaking that.” You mumbled into the microphone as it edged closer and closer to your lips.

The looks of incredulity that were spread across the group that had accosted you nearly made you laugh, as though it was impossible that you’d known and not done anything.

In fairness to them, when you’d learned that Fernando had some sort of interest in you, say around 8 years ago, you had had a bit of a tiff, something you were a little embarrassed to admit, and then you’d promptly asked him out. He refused to accept that though, meeting you the next day and asking you out with more flair.

You’d already accepted before he’d gotten the words out and bam, all of a sudden you were wearing the reddest scrubs you could find when you were walking around the hospital instead of the black one’s you’d been wearing since Toto became team principal. It was an inconspicuous form of representing the man you’d grow to love, something which had come with a lot of warning and pleas to reconsider from Toto.

Life had continued, and after a very busy 2019, you had fallen pregnant, something which you had thought definitely wouldn’t have happened at your age. But life finds a way I suppose and there you were, a baby Alonso permanently attached to your hip.

2020 was a nice year, Fernando being able to be there to see the baby grow from a, for lack of better words, crying sack of flesh and into a crawling child something that you cherished. However, life continued and Fernando went back to racing while you eventually returned to the hospital and your philanthropy after a few years, returning back to take care of your baby after shifts.

That’s where you were at at the moment, having been living together for well past the amount of time your parents had ever though unmarried couples should be. The newly acquired ring on your finger had quietened their worries though it increased the groaning of Toto and the joy coming from Geri.

You were a bit confused, though, why Fernando had decided to bring you up in an interview. You’d thought that you both had decided to not talk about it if not asked, though the possibilities of being asked about it were almost slim-to-none.

To be fair, if he’d been blatantly asked who his celebrity crush was and he said someone else, you would have been a bit miffed when the inevitable message from that person rolled into his inbox.

But still, it was curious what a reporter was doing asking a fully-grown man what his celebrity crush was. Maybe it was a gossip article, or maybe it was something to do with Taylor Swift and trying to get him to admit to their secret relationship.

The reporter in front of you cleared their throat.

“If you haven’t seen the news then and you are loyal to Mercedes, you’ll probably be happy to know that Lewis Hamilton also said you were his celebrity crush!” The excitement in their voice was obviously staged as they read the pre-written line, as though they were put off that you weren’t more hyped, but all you could think was ‘there it was’.

You probably should’ve seen it coming, to be honest, Fernando not the guy to try and one-up. You couldn’t wait to go home and watch the video footage of the inevitable glare he’d thrown at Lewis before speaking threateningly, probably holding himself back from spilling about the family you’d both created.

That was probably why he’d waited a few seconds before picking up the call that you’d hurriedly hung up, preparing himself to face the brunt of your giggles for a few minutes before you calmed down.

However, you hadn’t been able to tease him about the thing you didn’t know about because of the reporters who were filming you, waiting for your reaction to the news Lewis Hamilton himself had a celeb-crush on you, as though that even meant anything and wasn’t a way to get on Fernando’s toes.

“Oh.” You said after a second. The crew deflated and an incredulous look showed itself on the interviewer’s face as she processed your word before quickly covering it up.

“You’re not a big Hamilton fan?” She asked, trying to extract something more from you. You shrugged.

“Don’t mind him.” You simply remarked before exaggeratedly yawning and checking your watch. You then made a dramatically shocked face and turned back to the cameras.

“Well I best get going!” A slight accent that you’d never used before sneaked into your words and you cleared your throat.

“I trust you guys know where the exit is.” You said, referring to the camera crew before turning around and making your way across the garage to where your car sat.

“Do you have anything to add?” The interviewer shouted across the cavern in an attempt to get something more from their visit and you turned as you walked, spinning around your keys.

The group looked a bit defeated, the glimmer in their eyes dulled as though they thought they would’ve gotten more lucky than what they had. You couldn’t but take pity on them, the thought of them putting in more work after this to try and get a good story playing on your heartstrings.

Anyways, Fernando had already done a little bit of the revealing of your relationship, what could a few more hints do?

“No, sorry!” You yelled back before pausing a second and continuing slyly. “I’m just gonna go home to my kid, hopefully you guys get home safe to your families.”

Really well done there, inserted completely naturally. You turned back around, hearing the gasps echoing from the group and the increase in chatter as you unlocked your car, hopped in, and booted it up.

You quickly called Fernando as you got in the car, him picking up instantly.

“What was that about?” He asked, the sound of his voice playing through your speakers making you smile as you relaxed back into the seat, watching the increasingly frantic movements of the young reporters.

“Sorry, I got ambushed.” You said as you pulled out of your parking spot and followed the lines till you reached the entrance, waving at the group before pulling out of the garage. There was little-to-no traffic as you drove through office blocks, before pulling onto the highway.

“Ambushed?” He asked worried and you replied, telling the story of what happened that had caused you to hang up on him. He responded and laughed where appropriate, a skill that he’d gained over years of talking to you.

When you’d finished he went quiet and you enjoyed the silence, one hand on the steering wheel as you pulled off the highway and into your quiet neighborhood.

“They know we have a child?” He asked and you nodded before responding.

“They know I have a child.” You affirmed and he sighed, pondering a second.

“They know it’s not with Lewis right?” You couldn’t help the giggle that spouted from your throat, you eventually having to pull over as the ridiculousness of the situation dawned over you.

You couldn’t see but on the other side of the world, Fernando was laying in his hotel bed, a smile on his face as he listened to you laugh. The story you’d told had been strange, though he supposed it was his fault, and he was glad you could see the humour in it instead of panicking. He thought for a second.

“Should we come clean?” He asked and you stopped laughing, silence coming from your side of the phone. He called your name, his smooth accent pronouncing it perfectly. You had both hands on the steering wheel, pulled over somewhere on your way home to your child, with your soon-to-be husband on the phone, debating whether or not you should reveal your relationship.

It had been long enough, you were plenty secure in your relationship, but you were worried about the impact it would have on your child. You didn’t want them to grow up in a world were they were stood in the shadow of their parents instead of being recognised for being themself, you’d lived a version of that and knew how frustrating it could get.

But it would be nice to be able to go to races and be with your fiance instead of your brother who could get incredibly annoying, incredibly fast. You finally nodded your head, the decision coming fast as you weighed the benefits and cons.

“Let’s do it.” You said finally and you could hear Fernando sigh in relief and mumble in agreeance.

The way that Toto’s name had popped up on your phone after you said that still haunted your dreams sometimes.

hope you liked this unedited mess

It’s past 12 I’m sorry

#fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #alonso x reader #fernando alonso x y/n #f1 smau

615 notes · View notes

insanityclause · 8 months ago

Text

The Night Manager will be returning for two more seasons with Tom Hiddleston at the helm once again, it has been reported.

The renewal of the hit adaptation of John le Carré’s 1993 novel, which aired to great fanfare eight years ago, has been greenlit by Amazon Prime and the BBC, according to Deadline.

It is understood that the new seasons about the hotel-manager-turned-spy will be filmed later this year in London and South America.

According to reports, David Farr – who wrote the original series – has been brought back to write season two.

The first series, which won two Emmys and three Golden Globes, featured an impressive cast including Olivia Colman, Elizabeth Debicki, Tom Hollander and David Harewood.

It followed Hiddleston as Jonathan Pine, the former British soldier who is recruited by the manager of a Foreign Office taskforce to infiltrate an arms dealer’s inner circle while he is the night manager of a luxury Cairo hotel.

The series quickly became one of the top-rated UK dramas of 2016 and spawned a number of subsequent le Carré adaptations from The Ink Factory, the production company run by le Carré’s sons Simon and Stephen Cornwell.

The new adaptation will be set in the present day, according to Deadline, and will follow Hiddleston’s Pine facing a new and more deadly challenge after being informed that arms dealer Richard Roper – played by Hugh Laurie – is dead.

Laurie, Colman and Hiddleston all won Golden Globes for their performances in the 2016 spy thriller, which became an international success and even led to rumours at the time that Hiddleston, 43, could be the next James Bond.

While the Bond rumours may have been put to bed, it remains to be seen where the plot may take Pine, seeing as Le Carré‘s novel has no sequel.

When Laurie was asked in 2016 whether the series would return, he said: “It’s based on a novel, we’ve got to the end of the novel and John le Carré has yet to write another novel. So in cold practical terms, no, we’re done.”

Le Carré, who died in 2020, took a very hands-off approach to the first series, but was said to be pleasantly surprised by the alterations Farr made to his novel for the script.

Charlotte Moore, the BBC TV chief, told The Telegraph in 2017 that “Le Carré is very involved” in discussions about the next series, saying: “We wouldn’t be talking with them if he didn’t think it was a good idea.”

Announcing the new series, Ms Moore said: “After years of fervent speculation I’m incredibly excited to confirm that The Night Manager is returning to the BBC for two more series.”

“Of course he wants to take part in it, it’s his work. He will definitely be involved in what we do next,” she added.

The Telegraph has contacted Le Carré’s estate for comment on the announcement of the new seasons.

Previously, Susanne Bier, who won an Emmy for directing the first series, revealed that scripts for a second instalment were “slowly being developed”, but she said writers were wary about being able to create the same hit again.

Elizabeth Debicki, Tom Hiddleston, Susanne Bier and Hugh Laurie at the premiere of the first season

Elizabeth Debicki, Tom Hiddleston, Susanne Bier and Hugh Laurie at the premiere of the first season Credit: Michael Tran/FilmMagic

Farr agreed with this sentiment at the time, telling Variety in 2016 that he was “not keen” to do a second series, adding: “I liked the fact that the story ended where the story ended.

“But that’s entirely personal. Given the characters, there is a potential for something more to happen, and I’m sure someone could find the right idea. But for me it’s done. My simple feeling is that I wouldn’t be able to make the next one as good.”

Hiddleston, 43, will be returning to executive produce the new seasons as well as play Pine.

The British actor said: “The first series of The Night Manager was one of the most creatively fulfilling projects I have ever worked on. The depth, range and complexity of Jonathan Pine was, and remains, a thrilling prospect.”

Simon and Stephen Cornwell said season one proved “a landmark moment for the golden era of television – uniting on-screen and behind-the-camera talent at the top of their game – and an audience reception which was beyond our wildest imagining”.

“Revisiting the story of Pine also means going beyond the events of John le Carré’s original work: that is a decision we have not taken lightly, but his compelling characters and the vision David [Farr] has for their next chapter were irresistible,” they added.

Vernon Sanders, the Amazon MGM Studios head of television, added: “We are elated to bring additional seasons of The Night Manager to our Prime Video customers.

“The combination of terrific source material, the wonderful team at The Ink Factory, a great writer in David Farr, an award-winning director in Georgi Banks-Davies, as well as the talented cast truly make the series the full package.”

#tom hiddleston #the night manager

84 notes · View notes

niki-phoria · 1 year ago

Note

Is it possible for me to request a fic where the enhypen members respective backup dancers are Ill for the day so you replace them for the upcoming performance? You can do either gn or male reader. It's up to you, my dear enhypen writer.

⋆｡°✩ enha reaction - replacing their "bite me" dancer

includes: mix of confession and established relationship, heeseung's is maybe a little suggestive ?? written with male reader in mind

a/n: thank you so much for requesting !! my deepest apologies that this took so long, i really struggled with thinking of ideas for it :// but i hope you like it :))

gn reader (no pronouns used)

likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are always appreciated <33

⋆｡°✩ heeseung

“hey,” heeseung waves as you enter the otherwise empty practice room. “you’re the new dancer?”

“yeah,” you nod, holding a hand out. “y/n.”

“heeseung,” he smiles. “should we get started?”

“sure.”

dancing with heeseung starts easy enough. your touches are awkward when you occasionally brush against each other. the slowly growing tension in the air is mutually ignored as you focus on keeping up with the choreography.

your breath hitches in your throat when heeseung suddenly reaches up to adjust your hands so they rest fully around his neck. his hand remains gingerly resting around your waist. “you can touch me, you know,” he murmurs.

“sorry,“ you mumble, hesitantly applying more pressure.

“do i make you nervous, y/n?” heeseung whispers. his lips quirk into a smirk as his dark eyes study your reaction.

you bite your lip; now shifting to wrap your arms around his neck. “no.”

this time heeseung’s confidence wavers. his ears flush a light pink. “y/n,” he whispers. his gaze flickers down to your lips. “can i kiss you?”

you’re breathless as you lean in a little closer. you unconsciously lick your lips as you nod slightly. “yes.”

⋆｡°✩ jay

the stage lights feel hot as they beam down on you from overhead. the music blaring through the speakers only grows louder as you approach the edge of the stage. you nervously wipe your hands against your cotton pants before following the others out onto the stage.

you repeat the steps in your head like a mantra as you precisely execute each movement. jay allows the corners of his lips to quirk into a soft smile when you make eye contact. his touch just barely ghosts against your body as he gingerly holds your waist when you dip your head down.

the mask tied around your face blocks the flustered smile on your lips as you twirl around jay once again. he smirks when you cup his chin; just barely leaning in even closer.

you bite your lip in an attempt to suppress your nerves as you follow the other dancers off stage. “hey,” your choreographer says, patting your shoulder. “you alright?”

you nod, still smiling to yourself. “i’ve never felt better.”

⋆｡°✩ jake

you’re still panting as you scramble off of the stage, quickly pulling the mask covering your face down and reaching over to grab a chilled bottle of water. you drink as much of it as you can in large gulps before setting the now-empty bottle aside.

it isn’t long before the boy’s follow after you; each walking off in their own directions in search of their own water or fans to cool them down. you startle slightly when you feel jake’s arms snake around your waist. you smile to yourself as he leans in to rest his head against your shoulder. despite the sweat staining your outfits and the overwhelming amount of body heat surrounding you, neither of you make any attempt to move away.

“you were incredible, love,” he whispers, leaning in to press a fleeting kiss against your neck.

you twist around to face him, wrapping your own arms around his shoulders. his eyes instinctively flutter closed as you lean in to pull him into a sweet kiss. “so were you,” you murmur.

⋆｡°✩ sunghoon

“hey,” sunghoon calls as he gently knocks against the door of your fitting room.

you momentarily glance back at the closed door. “come in!”

your gaze returns to your own reflection in the three-sided mirror in front of you. a black corset has been firmly wrapped around your waist, perfectly defining your silhouette. you roll the sleeves of your button-down shirt up so the fabric stops just below your elbow. black eyeshadow is smudged just underneath your eyes to accentuate your features.

“wow,” sunghoon whispers - likely more to himself than you. you watch through the mirror’s reflection as his gaze lingers on your waist for a few seconds before he meets your eyes once again.

“wow?” you repeat. you spin on your heel to face him; a smirk threatening to tug at the corners of your lips. “do i look okay?”

“okay?” he steps closer, reaching over to rest his hands on your hips. he smiles as he gently tugs you closer to his chest. “you look incredible, y/n.”

⋆｡°✩ sunoo

“come in!” sunoo calls after you knock against his dressing room door.

his eyes widen when you meet his gaze through the mirror’s reflection. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you walk over to where he’s sitting. sunoo turns in his chair to fully face you. his hand ghosts against your waist as he studies your outfit. “you look good in the corset,” he finally mumbles.

“thank you,” you bashfully smile.

sunoo reaches over to wrap his arm around your waist. you bring a hand up to gently push a stray strand of his dyed locks back into place. his jacket rests off to the side - carefully laid on a nearby table.

“can i see the outfit?” you ask. your fingertips ghosts against the intricate beading.

sunoo nods, standing up to tug it on over the sweater. you smile brightly as he gestures for you to join him in front of the floor-length mirror. he leans in to press a kiss against your temple. “i love you,” he murmurs.

“i love you too,” you smile.

⋆｡°✩ jungwon

you wander into the center of the stage, staring out at the overwhelming number of chairs. they stretch back into the distance; blurring together in the darkness.

“hey,” someone whispers from beside you. you startle slightly, turning to face jungwon. he wears an oversized hoodie and a pair of gray sweatpants. a paper name tag has been tied around his torso. “are you alright?”

“yeah,” you nod, shaking off your nerves. “i’ve just never been on stage like this before.”

jungwon smiles softly, reaching over to gently pat your shoulder. “i’m sure you’ll do great.”

“thank you, wonie.”

a booming voice over the intercom cuts your conversation short. you smile at jungwon before you leave, making your way over to stand near the edge of the stage.

your gaze remains fixated on jungwon as they run through the choreography. even on a rehearsal stage, each one of his movements are sharp. you push your nerves down as you walk over to stand in front of him. your smiles never leave your lips as you run through the dance together.

⋆｡°✩ niki

the stage lights are nearly blinding as they beam down on you from above. an overwhelming amount of cheers from the audience are all you can hear as you hold the position for a few seconds before quickly scrambling to your feet and rushing off to the side of the stage.

you let a small sigh of relief escape you as soon as you’re out of view from the cameras. you carefully remove the mask obscuring your face; setting it aside to be cleaned later before loosening the corset tightly wrapped around your torso.

“hey,” niki’s call catches your attention. the rest of the boys bow slightly as they shuffle past you. he smiles softly as he walks over to stand before you. “you did good out there. i know you were nervous, but you have no reason to be.”

you wipe your clammy hands against the faux leather of your pants before flashing him a nervous smile. “really?”

niki tentatively reaches out to take your hand into his own, intertwining your fingers together. “really,” he nods.

357 notes · View notes

devsgames · 8 months ago

Text

On AI-Driven Conversations In Games

The AI gang really shot themselves in the foot by leaning so hard into capitalist exploitation angle, because now whenever they present a use of the tech that is actually moderately interesting the baseline reaction people have to it is just going to be hate because it's associated to AI in any way shape or form.

I mean, obviously I understand why people react this way, because most of the practical applications of AI are just a veil for replacing of labour and increasing profit margins for the executive levels. But I feel like nowadays you'll also just see a lot of people hating an idea because it's implicitly tied to AI in any way, despite the core conceit of the idea actually being fairly interesting. (Remember when Spiderverse used Machine Learning to generate some of it's incredibly labour-intensive frame-by-frame effects and then a bunch of people got mad because it used Machine Learning for that?)

People have been pointing to the use case of "what if you could talk to an NPC in a game and have their reponses generated via AI", and laughing at it like it's the dumbest suggestion ever, but honestly in my opinion I think that's the exact kind of system AI was practically designed for! To me that feels like an excellent application of the tech that is now just marred by the mention of AI in the first place.

Anyway, to ruminate on the concept a bit: I see that use of AI enabling a dev to fill out a world with more NPCs who help it feel more populated, as well as potentially give them incredibly varied responses that are more relevant to the NPCs immediate context of the game. I imagine instead of replacing full-on player choice dialog it would instead replace the throwaway barks of awkward and out of place open-world NPCs who look at you and say "I have nothing to say to you" and giving them something to directly say about your adventure or the context around them instead.

Instead of having the intern narrative designers be forced to write little barks and blurbs like "I have nothing to say" (which I understand narrative folks usually view as grunt work and hate writing in he first place), they'd be writing little prompts for that system instead. End result is when you talk to random farmer NPC #344 outside of town they say "Crop's doing well this year, here's hoping a dragon doesn't attack us" instead of "I've got nothing to say". I think on paper that's a genuinely good and interesting way to improve an antiquated open-world problem like that. Should it be helpful? Probably not. Would it be interesting? No. Would it be a little more flavourful than what we currently have going on? I think so!

It's not an AI shill fever dream, I can see exactly how it would work and I'd bet money that there's a studio doing something like it in R&D right now. I imagine it'd also probably be pretty adaptable between projects too, so the similar system could be applied to different areas of the world.

Should it be trusted to give the player directions or do any sort of leading that a narrative designer should do? Almost certainly not because it would be inconsistent and have too big a possibility window, and AI is nothing if not horrible at performing essential tasks that might block progress.

Should it be done with the tech as it is now? Hell no, unless you want to wait five seconds for every reply to be generated and for it to be tied to some server bank that's guzzling all of Arizona's water. Also it would probably need an internet conncetion to work, which is asking a lot for an open world game.

Should it be done by these studios who are more interested in using it to replace labour and make the end result cheaper to make so they can keep more profits off he top? No, and that's the real reason why the applications of this tech sucks - because spoiler alert they'd all love to save money.

Obviously this concept isn't doable right now, but I wouldn't be surprised if it ships in a game in some form within 5-10 years tops.

Again I get why at this point in capitalism there's almost no applications of machine learning that are easy to trust, nor should we ever believe studios are doing it for any reason outside of trying to make development cheaper. I just think when it comes to tech it's worthwhile to keep execution in mind separate from intent; Tech isn't implicitly evil, it's the system it's built under that is. :)

#game development #gamedev #game dev #indie games #indie game #gamedevelopment #indiegames #indiedev #indie dev #thoughts #blog #ai #analysis

57 notes · View notes

allsouls-emma · 3 months ago

Note

hey! love your leon writing, it’s really great to read. thank you for your work, keep it up!

i was also hoping you could write a something with a gymnast!reader where she’s seen him compete and vise versa. thanks <3

✧Partners in Performance ✧

─ Léon Marchand x OC, Léon Marchand x Reader

Hi Anon, Thank you lots and lots for your ask, super cool idea to mix gymnastics into the mix with Léon !

Warnings: Established relationship, I haven't been to the village nor events in the Olympics (Paris '24), not fluent in French, Fluff!

---

Y/N tightened the straps on their gymnastics grips, their focus sharp as they prepared for their next routine. The gym was filled with the familiar sounds of chalky hands clapping and the rhythmic pounding of feet on the mats. It was competition day, and the energy was palpable.

But Y/N’s thoughts weren’t entirely on the upcoming performance. Instead, their mind kept drifting to the tall, curly-haired swimmer who was probably wrapping up his own practice at the pool. Léon Marchand, the rising star of French swimming, had been a constant presence in Y/N’s life, both as a competitor and as something more.

They had met at a sports camp two years ago, each working tirelessly to refine their craft. What started as a friendship rooted in mutual respect quickly blossomed into something deeper. They understood each other in a way few others could—how the pressure of competition could weigh heavily, how victories were both exhilarating and fleeting, and how the grind never really stopped.

“Ready?” Their coach’s voice pulled Y/N out of their thoughts.

“Ready,” Y/N replied with a nod, rolling their shoulders back and taking a deep breath. This was their moment.

The announcer called their name, and Y/N stepped onto the floor, the apparatus shining under the bright lights. The music started, and with it, Y/N’s routine—a carefully choreographed blend of strength, grace, and precision.

They flowed through the movements, each leap, turn, and flip executed with a combination of power and elegance. As they completed their final tumbling pass, landing with a controlled but firm stance, the crowd erupted into applause. Y/N smiled, their heart racing with the thrill of nailing the routine.

After saluting the judges, Y/N jogged off the floor, a sense of accomplishment washing over them. As they grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from their brow, their phone buzzed in their gym bag. They fished it out and saw a message from Léon.

**Léon**: *J’ai vu ta performance en direct. Incroyable, comme toujours.*

(I watched your performance live. Incredible, as always.)

Y/N’s smile widened, warmth spreading through them. Léon had always been their biggest fan, even when he couldn’t be there in person. They quickly typed back.

**Y/N**: *Merci, mon amour. J’aurais aimé que tu sois ici, mais savoir que tu regardes, c’est presque aussi bien.*

(Thank you, my love. I wish you were here, but knowing you’re watching is almost as good.)

There wasn’t much time to bask in the moment, though. The rest of the competition still loomed, but Y/N felt a renewed sense of determination. They weren’t just performing for themselves; they were doing it for Léon too.

---

Later that evening, after the competition had wrapped up and Y/N had collected their medal—a hard-earned silver—they finally had a chance to unwind. The hotel room was quiet, and as they settled into bed, their phone buzzed again. It was a video call from Léon.

Y/N answered immediately, and there he was—his handsome face filling the screen, eyes bright with pride.

“Salut, championne,” Léon greeted, his voice warm and full of affection.

“Salut, champion,” Y/N replied, feeling a flutter in their chest. “How was practice?”

“Tough,” Léon admitted, running a hand through his damp curls. “But nothing compared to what you just did. I watched your entire routine, Y/N. You were amazing.”

Y/N blushed slightly, still getting used to the way Léon’s compliments made their heart race. “Thank you. I wish you could have been there.”

“Me too,” he said, his expression softening. “But soon, we’ll both be competing in the same city. I can’t wait for that.”

“Neither can I,” Y/N agreed. “I miss watching you swim in person. Videos don’t do it justice.”

Léon chuckled. “Well, I’ve got a big meet coming up. Maybe you could come watch?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that. What’s the meet?”

“It’s in a few weeks, actually,” Léon said. “The nationals. I’ve been training hard for it.”

“I’ll be there,” Y/N promised. “Front row, cheering you on.”

Léon’s smile was radiant. “Knowing you’ll be there makes it even better.”

They talked for a while longer, sharing details about their training and upcoming competitions, each finding comfort in the other’s voice despite the miles between them.

---

When the day of Léon’s big meet finally arrived, Y/N was in the stands, heart pounding with anticipation. The aquatic center was buzzing with excitement as swimmers warmed up and spectators filled the seats.

When Léon’s event was called, Y/N’s breath caught in their throat. They had seen him swim countless times before, but it never ceased to amaze them. The way he moved through the water was almost otherworldly, each stroke powerful and fluid.

As the race began, Y/N leaned forward in their seat, eyes glued to the pool. Léon surged ahead, his movements precise and controlled, and Y/N’s heart swelled with pride. When he touched the wall and the scoreboard flashed his time—first place—Y/N jumped to their feet, cheering loudly.

Léon looked up into the stands, and when his eyes found Y/N, his face broke into a wide grin. He pointed up at them, a silent acknowledgment that this victory, like so many others, was shared.

After the medals were awarded, Léon found Y/N in the crowd, pulling them into a tight embrace despite the fact that he was still dripping wet.

“You were incredible,” Y/N said, their voice muffled against his chest.

“Only because you were here,” Léon replied, pressing a kiss to their temple. “I told you, didn’t I? We’re better together.”

Y/N laughed softly, looking up at him. “Yeah, we are.”

As they walked out of the aquatic center hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that, no matter where their sports took them, as long as they had each other, they would always find a way to shine.

#jeux olympiques #olympics #smut #french #leon marchand #léon marchand fanfic #fanfiction #léon marchand fanfiction #léon marchand #olympic swimming #olympic games #the olympics #gymnastics #anon ask #ask

31 notes · View notes

witchofthesouls · 7 months ago

Note

Wondering how Tarn and the Nurse's story would go if they shared a world with Fusian Cannon Wedding Megatron.

The idea of fusion Cannon Wedding Megatron!AU is that the senate reserved the right to take any sparkling from unconjuxed parents ostensibly to be put in a worthy home while simultaneously making it cost prohibitive for all but the elite. Even for the upper middle caste it was incredibly burdensome. But if you could get an audience with a priest of the 13 they could interview a couple deem them worthy and chose to wave the fee.

Megatron, the agnostic, due to Gladiatorial WWE-esque Theme Shenanigans actualy ends a priest of Megatronus because he refused to be a fake priest in such a way that the last Priest of Megatronus decided "welp this is my best bet as a secuessor." Megatron ever the political activist used this to perform legally binding weddings for any sparked couples he came across.

Cue the Revolution and the risk of Deceticon newsparks being stolen increases. But there are treaties to return kiddos to their parents or next of kin. So if con, bot, neutral, or implausiblely compatible alien sparks up or is sparked up by one of his Decepticons, they are kidnapped and brought to the alrer at gunpoint for now High Priest Megatron to Marry them off "for the children's sake." The DJD has brought runaway 'juxes to the alter.

Now the DJD still has the Doner Cause because it's a way of protecting the bitties. Megatron initaly gets wind of the situation of with the Nurse and is relatively chill. Right up untill he realizes that the nurse was never married to the sire. Nevermind their Caimen with very diffrent rules and cultural norms. (Also their the mentee of a very scary Healer). Kaon doesn't even have to pull a witnessed act shenanigans to help his ship set sail. He just has to include a question in his routine report that Tarn is continuing providing doner support as outlined in the Doner clause. "As the cowardly tratitor abandoned his lover the moment he found out she sparked we did not find out he had sparked her after he was dead. Is it possible to posthumously conjux them for the security of the sparklings?" Kaon knows damn well posthumous conjuxing isn't a thing.

Shenanigans are about to ensue.

This is great because Megatron's manifesto would have revisions about religion, so instead of an atheist society, he more likely written about freedom of religion for anyone to practice. Just as a final Fuck You to the Senate with their harsh stance.

And because of the wild shenanigans, I think the Decepticons would have strong civil and family court proceedings.

Deadzone and Nurse were (ex) fiances, so Megatron could be chill with that.

But not with Tarn also sparking up the Camien. Now that's a whole-ass security risk!

Megatron wouldn't need to demand Tarn to return. The Peaceful Tyranny bulleted itself to the main flagship, ignoring everything else to get it situated after the consequences of too much excitement at the "fake" resort wedding.

A poor, sleep-deprived and absolutely exhausted Nurse would have been scooped up and thrown into the shower and polished to high-hell. You were vaguely aware of quick, sure servos working your back and sensory panels, and Helex was hogging the dryer.

This was no dignified walk. The entire Justice Division burned rubber and left scorch marks on their stampede to the Altar. Every other 'con jumped out of the way and booked it elsewhere because no one wanted to be in the vicinity that had the D.J.D. that hyperfocused.

Shockwaves rippled across the base that it wasn't a gruesome execution but a wedding.

Out of all the mechs, Tarn's.

The gossip mill was set aflame. Information between truth and rumors clashing, especially when the newlywedded mech was spotted with strange, blue Energon painted bright on his chassis.

The reality of it was far less fantastical.

You were a sack of photon-potatoes over Tarn's shoulder as he carried the cradle-pod of newsparks under his opposite arm.

At the daunting reveal that Megatron the bomb of Megatronus Prime's ordained lineage with the markings and proven insignia, you took a short break in the private sideroom (with proper permission from the High Priest) to freak out over your own lack of preparations and courtesies for said High Priest.

You did invoke part of an old bonding custom from Caminus' initial vorns when the Titan carried the survivors of the Tribal wars composed of different peoples.

You and Tarn get married with each other’s Energon painted upon the chassis.

Not only Megatron officiated the ceremony, but allowed a generous honeymoon package of timeoff and a few gifts.

#ask #bookandyarndragon #transformers #transformers idw #idw #mtmte #the donor clause au #fusion canon wedding!Megatron #tarn #reader insert #cybertronian!reader #cultural misunderstandings #culture clash #pregnancy #sparklings #bitlets #megatron #kaon #helex #religious imagery #maccadam #my writing #megatron knows few fears but the intensity between Tarn's and Nurse's gazes would make a lesser mech sweat #kaon was not afraid to shock anyone that interrupted his OTP's wedding again #no one knew what to expect when nurse needed a moment and called for tarn #but they all lost because no one betted on them painting each other in their respective Energon #tesarus is mildly ticked because no one was complaining about the blood if he has a smidgen-#*kaon shocks away Tess' grumbling*#nurse has been given a husband by her own god's Conjunx's head priest and by Solus you will do your best to make it work!#nurse will make a name for camiens so cons will break out in cold sweat when around other camiens

34 notes · View notes

daisybell17 · 11 months ago

Text

Protecting You — Loki

Warnings: abusive & manipulative relationship, toxic relationship, abuse, physical violence, mentions of drinking, swearing, mentions of death, this fic mentions abuse in relationships so read with caution, and of course do NOT read if topics such as these make you uncomfortable or offended

WK: 4070 - Long fic ahead!

——————————————————————————

Asgard is known to hold some of the greatest theatre plays in all the nine realms, Midgard being their current competitor in the industry. Nonetheless, you never stopped your passion to be an actor. So when your agent contacted you about a role in an Asgardian performance, you couldn’t pass this opportunity.

Loki, Prince of Asgard, too shared this passion in the art of acting and theatre. Performing since he was just a child, his talented ability to capture audiences and his co-stars never failed, making him a world or shall I say, realm class celebrity.

Thus on the first Monday of rehearsals, you had met not only your idol but your partner in the lead role.

“H-Hi! My name is Y/N…I’m from M-Midgard and h-honestly, all this still s-seems unreal to me…b-ut! It’s an honour to meet you Mr. Laufeyson!” For as awkward as the first meeting was, Loki chuckled at your response and shook your hand.

“Well it is lovely to meet you Y/N, and please, please! Call me Loki” His eyes seemingly piercing your own. God he knew you were gorgeous on the stage, but seeing you in person and this up close? you were the most incredible being he’s ever met

Your mind was running laps as you shook his hand. Loki Laufeyson was your co-star. You were performing on Asgard. This is a dream come true!

“Ok then! Loki…I look forward to these next couple months working alongside you. I’ve heard nothing but amazing things about the Prince of Asgard and the talent he brings to the stage…And I might be coming off too strong here but I am a bit of a fangirl myself when it comes to your work”

“Really now?! Well I could only thank you for watching my work, I truly love all this and just hope to bring my best foot onstage” Loki was grinning like an idiot, keeping his composure as you two conversed

“And you hit the spot every time! Your take on some Midgardian performances left me speechless! The Asgaridan version of Hamilton was one I didn’t expect much from and yet it delivered perfectly!” Loki couldn’t hold back his laughter and smiles as you praised his work. He found himself blushing a little at your words, dazzled by the praise you were feeding him.

“You are truly too kind darling, I’m just glad to bring some of Midgaridan works here to Asgard, the theatre Midgard has is more my style as compared to what majority of Asgardians like…gods this is why this play is a big leap for us, but I have seen your works in the romance side and I am certain we can execute this perfectly”

Your eyes lit up as he said this…Loki has seen your work?! More specifically your romantic trope stories?! You were speechless

“You have?! Wow! I am…You have no idea how much that means to me! I have to admit that this sounds like an ego boost but I do consider them my best performances”

“Nothing wrong about being proud of your best works and darling you put on quite a show! Most shows here on Asgard are focused around war, politics, kingdoms and royalty so a little romance here and there surely brings out the humanity in me”

You had smiled as his response, and you two continued on with your conversation, getting to know one another and the passion you shared for theatre. As the day went on, you both went over your lines, practicing the timing, the emotion, delivery and much more. It was obvious to you both that It’s as if these roles were made for you both. A forbidden love story between god and woman, both finding their own ways in this world together, all the while they were ridiculed by the universe. You loved your role, you loved your co-stars, you loved sharing the stage alongside the talented man himself Loki Laufeyson. Life on the stage is one you wouldn’t trade for anything…

Although…while you shined on the stage, it would be idiotic to not admit that the magic you felt onstage did not translate to your real life.

“That’s a wrap for today! I will see you all on Wednesday!” Just like that the day was over and you had to part ways with everyone.

Packing up your belongings, you could hear footsteps approaching and upon turning your back you were met with Loki

“Hey Y/N! It was great working with you today and I must admit you truly have talent like no other”

You blushed at his comment and shot him a quick “Thanks” and “You too”

“You going straight home?”

“Uhm Yea? I have to get dinner started and all” You replied, packing the last of your stuff up.

“Oh…I see I see…Well I was actually wond-”

“Y/N Are you still fucking in there?!” A voice boomed through the room

Your eyes went wide and you quickly swung your bag behind your back “I-Im sorry Loki but I really have to go…”

“I-Uhm yea okay…I just really wanted to ask if-”

Suddenly you saw your boyfriend walk in, clearly angry at something. Loki’s eyes immediately shot at his direction as he watched this angry and slightly intoxicated man burst inside and you running to him an small panic

“Honey! James, I told you that I was working late today! Why are you even here?!”

“Honey? James?” Loki felt both confused and sad.

“No?! You said you’d be done by 4! That’s why i’m here…what? My girlfriend doesn’t come home to the time she said she was and you expect me to not be pissed?!”

“Honey what are you even talking about?! I never said I was off at 4! I even texted you I’d be home by 7!”

“You’re a liar!” James shouted and you quickly shushed him as to not attract any attention

Loki stared at you two. First he felt sad and quite disappointed to find out you had a boyfriend…he’s never fallen for anyone this quickly but something about sharing the stage with him and the passion you both shared brought out this lovey dovey feeling he had deep down inside. And with this being the first of many meetings, he knew he was bound to fall for you further. Second he felt rage towards your pathetic boyfriend, the cursing?! the shouting?! his intoxicated rage towards you?! and the attempt at manipulation was just below pathetic. Loki despises assholes like him, but of course he couldn’t do much about it.

“You’re calling me the liar?! Check your phone! I texted you!” You whispered shouted as you smelled the alcohol reeking from him

“God James are you seriously drunk as well?! You’ve been drinking too much lately”

He scrambled for his phone and saw the text you sent, grumbling to himself, he hissed an looked at you “Whatever I didn’t read it so its still on you! And i’m sorry? Does my drinking pose a problem with you? You’re barley home anyways, out here performing and shit. God I thought this was just some hobby or some shit”

“James?! Are you serious right now?! For the hundredth time…this is my life! my passion! Don’t you dare try to say its just some hobby!”

“Seriously Y/N?! It is! I mean look at this! Its a fake production of a fake story with real people just projecting a fantasy! its pure bullshit!”

You grumbled in frustration “You know what if you seriously have a problem with it why are you even here with me? Why did you come to Asgard huh?! Why!”

Loki knew he wasn’t supposed to be listening, but he couldn’t help himself as you were both arguing quite loudly. He wanted to destroy that pathetic man

“To protect you of course! And…ugh are you really going to make me say it?

“What?!”

“Ok i know its all bullshit but your work is the exception because its you! and UGH yes its bullshit but you blow my mind away sometimes…and you NEED me to protect you…I dont know who might steal your heart here on Asgard?”

“…mhm mhm…Ok can we just go home please?” You asked feeling both hurt but ok at best

“Yes we can go” James said and grabbed you harshly to the exit

You turned at Loki and waved a quick goodbye and mouthed “Im sorry” and walked away…Loki was beyond furious that poor excuse of a man could treat you that way. Calling theatre and acting bullshit?! Bringing your passions down?! Grabbing you in that manner? God it revolted him. You deserved better…so much better, but alas it wasn’t any of Loki’s business nor could he do anything much about it.

Loki never questioned you about that day, seeing as it was something quite personal to share, but he did ask you if you had a boyfriend and how long you two were together. He wasn’t quite happy to hear you’ve had to deal with this man for 2 years now. James would show up to pick you up after every session, either drunk, pissed, in no mood at all, or just being annoyed but he sweet talked his way to make you go home with him each time…even though, deep down inside it was like you were drowning, there were parts of you that were screaming to leave him but you just couldn’t, he was all you had. The most you could do is fantasies and take the small wins, even though you craved more, even though your soul craved better…Oh the guilt you felt when you saw Loki interacting with another co-start…you wished it was you…but- wait, why the hell am i even thinking that?! I have a boyfriend for god sakes! and Loki is just my co-star! Stop it Y/N.

The weeks went on and you and Loki continued to work together onstage. Offstage the both of you got to know one another better and because of this the more he fell for you, for someone he couldn’t be with. He was amazed by you. By your passion, your personality, your kindness…everything…and he knows better than to fall for his co-star but you were the breaker to his rule.

He couldn’t put into words just how amazing you are. Like a blast of energy that you couldn’t contain, just filled with so much drive, passion and life and he hated to admit that this became a small factor to motivate him everyday. To see you, to talk to you, gosh it was like he was a teenager again, eager to see his crush at school, but this was much different.

Although this one week, when you came in for the day, Loki had greeted you as usual, asking how things were or how you were liking Asgard and you gave a half-hearted reply, brushing him off almost entirely and you sat in the corner of the room, going over your lines on your own. Odd behaviour that Loki wasn’t used to and he was split between asking if you were ok or to leave it as is. This didn’t affect your performance onstage but it affected Loki. He didn’t like seeing you this way, and when James came in to pick you up that day, he made sure to stick with you as you both waited. That same week you came in looking worse and Loki decided to finally ask what was wrong, but you shot him down, not really wanting to talk about the horrible comments James had thrown at you last night about you, your career, your cooking or the fact he even threw the glass vase at your wall, sending glass flying and cutting your arm, though that was a scar you could hide. Loki didn’t push you on it anymore but he did request if they could finish earlier today.

“I think we should end a little early today seeing as you all have been working hard these past couple weeks. See you all on Friday!”

You were surprised to finish early today, but I guess it meant you had more time working on dinner. So you packed up and got ready to leave when Loki stopped you

“Y/N…I was wondering if maybe you’d like a cup of coffee before you go home for the day seeing as we finished earlier than usual”

“I uh..hmm” You thought about it, go home to James and cook earlier…or go with coffee with Loki…After last night you needed a break

“Ah why the hell not…coffee and….macaroons?” You asked in hopes to try of Asgardian pastries

“Coffee and macaroons it is! I know a great place near here, ran by a good family friend of mine, im sure you’ll like it”

“Can’t wait to try it” You smiled and let Loki lead the way to this mystery cafe.

Upon reaching the place, you were greeted to a busy yet lively scene. Calling this place beautiful would be underselling it.

“I’ll order us both a latte and grab one macaroon of each flavour, how’s that sound?”

“That sounds great” You smiled and reached for your wallet. “I’ll cover half, how much do I owe you?”

Loki’s faced contorted in confusion “W-What? Y/N!” He chuckled “It’s ok I got it! Treat is on me” He smiled

“What?! No no please! I can’t let you pay for all that! Please let me pay half”

“Nonsense this is on me, that’s final” Loki smiled “Its okay I promise, you deserve a treat, well I guess we do after the work these past weeks”

You sigh and accept his offer “Ok well…Thank you, you are too kind Loki…But next time we get a treat it’ll be on me ok?”

Next time. Ah so there would be a next time. Loki grinned at the thought…although reality snapped him back when he remembered your boyfriend “Hmmm, I would still treat you next time…but if you insist, next time you’ll treat us”

You nodded and Loki went and got the coffee and macaroons.

He came back with your treats and…they were the best damn macaroons you’ve had in your life

“Holy shit these are delicious! There has to be actual magic in these…amazing! amazing!”

Loki watched as you ate the sweet treats “Told you I knew a place and if you must know, they don’t have magic, just made with love”

You laughed “Ah yes…Love! Ok but seriously I need to bring a tray of these when I go back to Midgard, just one big tray of em all for me”

“You know I could do that for you? Perhaps we can share…if you are willing”

“Share?! Never! the imaginary tray of macaroons is mine only hehe” You smiled “okay maybe you can have one”

“Just one?!” Loki said in a dramatic tone “So you get a whole tray and I get one?!”

“Yes! One!” You laughed “I’’m so kind I know”

“Sure…sooooo kind! Y/N gives Loki ONE macaroon!” He teased…He wished you could both stay like this forever

As you were both enjoying each other company and the nature around you, James had spotted you as he was too on a coffee run and approached you both

“Y/N?! The hell you doing here?! I thought you were at work?!”

“Oh! H-Honey we just finished early today and L-Loki here invited me for some coffee and macaroons…I hope that’s alright by you”

“You should have told me first…or why didn’t you go home and start with dinner?”

“I uh…i’m sorry it slipped my mind and I was t-thinking…we could just…take out some dinner?”

“Y/N you’re better than this! I need to know where you are…and yea whatever we can get dinner out”

Loki sat there feeling awkward and so quickly cut the silence by introducing himself “Hi I am uh Loki…co-stars with Y/N…she’s told me about you James…uh nice to meet you”

Confused by this, James hesitantly shook his hand “Uh nice to meet you Loki…i guess…So what has Y/N said about me?”

“Uh…you both have been dating 2 years…and..yea..” Loki replied awkwardly

You watched James expression and you knew having these two meet was a horrible idea…but not much you can do now.

The two continued their VERY awkward conversation and soon James pulled you up and demanded you both went home

“Uhm…See you on Friday Loki” You say as James dragged you off

“Uh See you…” Loki was fuming…

Friday came around and one again your demeanour had shifted. You were shut off, closed, awkward and of course Loki noticed this. This wasn’t the real you, the you he had coffee and macaroons with…he was worried…he knew you deserved better, he knew he could treat you 100 times better. God he wished he could be yours…he would love you so much more than any other being. The day went so-so and Loki had waved you goodbye…all he looked forward to was the next week in which he could see you again…

So when you unexpectedly did not turn up the following week for practice, he was sad, but from his sadness quickly grew concern after seeing the nature of your boyfriend and how he treated you. He couldn’t focus the entire day, worried about what happened to you or if you were ok. Once the day was over, he quickly rushed to the nearest restaurant and bought some takeout for you to have, in case you had just come down with some sort of flu.

Approaching your temporary living space he immediately heard screaming from none other than James. Loki dropped the food at the doorstep and peaked through the window. He could only see James’s face as your back was facing the window. Loki couldn’t grasp the focus of the argument as James was mainly throwing horrible insults at you

“You bitch are you serious?! Why do you alway lie to me? After all I have done for you?! For us to get here!”

“James…its called ACTING! do i have to explain myself all the damn time?! And you better stop calling me a liar, I told you about the play, about the theme, about the scenes…and It’s fine its just acting…”

“Are you being fucking for real?! Are you serious now Y/N?! You expect me to believe that you’re telling the truth right now?! That these so called scenes weren’t just written in after you said yes to this?! God why couldn’t they just cast a single woman? Not someone with a boyfriend?!”

“BECAUSE JAMES IT WAS OFFERED TO ME! Because I have talent! I have passion! I am a performer, have been all my life! Sorry they casted me! Sorry they casted a woman in a relationship but its not like I can do anything about it?! Nothing is ever enough in your eyes and I don’t even know why I care for your opinion!”

“YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO CARE I AM YOUR BOYFRIEND AND I AM NOT LETTING YOU GO WITH THIS PROJECT ANY FURTHER”

“WHAT NO?! you cant control my life like that asshole?!”

“THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME??? Y/N I DONT CONTROL YOUR LIFE BUT IM SURE AS HELL GONNA STOP YOU FROM ALL THE STUPIDITY YOUR DOING” James approached you, backing you up against the wall

“James! JAMES! STOP IT” He raised his hand over you

Loki’s eyes shot wide, accidentally knocking on the window and immediately James’s attention went to the window “HEY WHO THE HELL IS THERE?!” Loki scrammed immediately, leaving you and James to your own business.

After that incident he knew he has to something about it, he wasn’t going to watch as you get hurt by that horrible man.

You came in for the next practice session…with James which threw off everyone but instead of greeting your cast mates or even Loki, you darted straight to the hair and makeup station. Loki saw you zoom by and immediately tried to catch up with you, which only increased your walking speed, practically jogging at this point. James locked the door to the station and you ignored Loki completely. Passing conversations can be heard from you both…although Loki no longer cared, he was worried for you, he couldn’t stand the thought of what your bastard of a boyfriend could have done to you and so he forced himself in.

“Loki?! What the hell you broke the lock!” You say in shock with James sharing the same reaction as you

“I know but I can’t stand this anymore!” He marched towards you and went to grab your shoulders in an attempt for a hug, causing you to flinch and move back. Thrown off, Loki looked at you confused and “Y/N your face…” Loki got a real good look at the bruise on your arm, cheek, and neck…

Loki looked at you, then at James, and clicked.

“YOU BASTARD!” Loki launched at James

“HEY! HEY! HEY!” James shouted, blocking Loki’s hands and body

“What the hell did you do asshole? You did that? YOU hurt her?!” Loki managed to push past James’s block and locked his godly hands and arms onto his shoulder, gripping on so tight it caused your boyfriend to flinch and squirm in pain

“Hey man let me-”

”NO!” Using his magic, Loki blasted James against the wall, causing his body to shake as he fell to the ground “The hell is wrong with you?!” he screamed

“ME?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Loki approached him and placed his foot on his chest, letting his entire body weight shift to his foot.

“Ow! Jeez!”

“You know I don’t care who you are, I don’t care that you’re dating Y/N, you pathetic little man I will ruin your life for touching her, I will end your stupid, worthless, pathetic little existence for what you did to her! You understand me?! There is a special place in Hel for assholes like you! Bastards that think hitting, cursing and treating their partners like shit is even ok!”

“Loki stop it!” You shouted

He ignored you and grabbed James’s face “You ever come back here, you ever even think about seeing her again, or so help me god even think about laying another finger on her, I will snap your body like a twig and make sure you suffer a long…painful…demise” he growled

You saw all this happening and while you were terrified, part of you felt relief…it was over…it was finally over….right?

James struggled against Loki’s grasp, Loki looked like he was actually going to end him

“Loki look at me!” you shouted

He immediately did and saw your eyes, he saw that as much as James was an asshole…you didn’t want Loki to actually kill him

Loki looked back at James and let him go “This is your only chance to go…SCRAM”

And just like that James ran out, leaving your life for good

You and Loki stood there in awkward silence

…

“Loki?” You whispered

He immediately looked at you “Y/N!” He ran towards you, about to bring you to an embrace but remembering you were probably not comfortable at the moment “Are you ok…?”

“Not…really…but better” You admitted “Thank you…” You smiled at him.

“Of course…I-I couldn’t go on just working with you knowing or not knowing what was happening…I’m just glad you don’t have to deal with that asshole anymore…right?”

“Yea…its over…after yesterday…I knew we were through, I just didn’t know how to end it…so thank you…so so so much…You’ve done more for me than most people have about all this…” You hugged him as tears fell from your eyes

He hugged you back carefully as to not startle you “I love you to much to see you like this” Loki blurted. Uh shit?! Not the time?!

“You love me?” You pulled away and asked

Loki went red at your question “I-I Uh…yea? I do…I do love you…look I know were just co-stars and hell you just went through such a shitty thing and this is the worst way to say it but yes I love you…a lot” he fumbled at his words

You smiled at him “Despite everything…and I wont lie… but I love you too”

You both embraced each other as you felt the safety of his love and his arms

——————————————————————————

(a/n): this took awhile for me to get out bc tbh i dont really know how to write a story like this...very well...but either way i got through it! hope you enjoyed and james is an asshole

TAGS: @jennaortegaswifeyy

30 notes · View notes

p-artsypants · 1 month ago

Text

I Do...I Guess? (14) Bevelle

Ao3 | FF.net

“That is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” Wakka stated callously.

Yuna and Tidus both deflated, but knew if Yuna had been the one to reveal her plan, Wakka might not have been so harsh.

“What are ya thinkin’ brudda?” He poked Tidus in the chest. “You two going at it alone?”

“It’s incredibly risky,” Lulu added. “What if something were to happen to you?”

“That’s why you guys would stay behind,” Tidus argued. “If Yuna and I go alone, and get thrown in prison, you can come bail us out, instead of all of us getting stuck!”

“And how would you suggest we get to you?” Auron asked, his tone possessing a sense of calm, suggesting he wasn't as outraged by their plan as Lulu and Wakka.

“What about the airships?” Yuna suggested, her gaze shifting to Rikku, “the ships under Home, do they work? Would your father help you all come and rescue us?”

Rikku tapped her chin in thought, but hesitated when answering. “That certainly is an idea…”

Cid, who was nearby, and not invited to weigh-in on that particular part of the plan, chimed in, "Of course we'd come and rescue you!"

“I think it would be more practical if you could get us all into Bevelle, so we don’t have to fight our way in and out. Escaping might be easier,” Lulu suggested.

“So, you think we should storm the city?” asked Wakka. “Make Mika listen to us?”

“I don’t know about that…” Rikku squeaked. “I think it would make us look really bad.”

“Would you prefer us to all surrender?” Lulu spat. “If we can get Yuna to the Chamber of the Fayth, we won’t even have to speak to Mika.”

“Ohhh,” Wakka nodded. “Now I see what you’re getting at.”

Lulu turned to Auron, “what do you think, Sir Auron? Do you think we can get to the temple with the airships?”

Auron was quiet for a long time, arms crossed and head bowed. Finally, he answered, “If we try to make a break for the temple, Yevon will shoot and kill us without a second thought. No. I think Tidus and Yuna’s plan is the better route.”

“But—” Wakka protested.

“We should all go then. I don’t like the idea of Yuna going alone.”

“She won’t be going alone,” Tidus argued.

“My statement stands.”

Auron spoke up, commanding attention, “Have any of you ever talked to Mika? Ever had to go to trial with him?”

By the silence and awkward shifting of feet no one had.

“I can’t say their plan is a great one, but it offers the most amount of success. If we all go together, we’ll all be thrown into the dungeon. If Yuna goes, there may be a sliver of leniency since she is a Summoner. I find it likely that Mika will demand she stops her pilgrimage, but he may designate her as a church sanctioned Sender.”

“So like…making her perform Sendings all over the place?” Tidus guessed.

“Exactly.”

Yuna shuddered.

“Well, I’m not going to let that happen,” he declared, fists on his hips.

“You have more to worry about. If you go, I can’t guarantee what will happen to you. Out of the guardians, you and I have the best chances of mercy. I have my connection to Lord Braska, though I suspect Yevon knows I’m an Unsent by now. They may just have me Sent. Since you are her husband, they may bestow Yuna’s punishment on you, too. By example, escorting her to the Sendings she is to perform.”

“Which we’ll agree to,” Tidus offered, “but then actually make a break for Zanarkand?”

“Ideally, yes.”

Tidus scoffed. “Sounds pretty simple to me.”

“None of this is guaranteed. That’s just what I presume will happen,” Auron reiterated.

“What’s the worst case scenario?” Tidus persisted to ask.

“Execution.”

“Well, damn.”

“But we’ve got to try,” Yuna tried to reason. “The Fayth in Bevelle is simply too important to not attain. And the Ronso! I hadn’t even thought about it, but if we’re guilty in the eyes of Yevon, the Ronso won’t let us pass Gagazet!”

“Kimahri can take care of them, right big guy?” Tidus elbowed the Ronso.

“Kimahri runt of Ronso litter. Disgraced without horn. No respect from tribe.”

“Oh…”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Auron interjected. “Bevelle first. We’ll take the airships to the Calm Lands and wait outside the road to Bevelle. Tidus and Yuna will go alone, unarmed into the capital. After 48 hours, if they have not returned on their own, we will go rescue them. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” said Rikku.

Kimahri nodded.

Wakka and Lulu hemmed and hawed, but eventually consented.

“Alright!” Cid joined the group again. “We’ll get the ship all ready to go here in just a minute. Now, I’ll need a lock of hair from both of you.” He pointed at Yuna and Tidus.

Tidus subconsciously touched his scalp. “Hair? What for?”

“The ships are equipped with an ancient machina called a Sphere Oscillo-finder. How it works is a bit of a mystery, but if you tell it what to look for, it’ll find it. With a bit of hair, I should be able to track your whereabouts, makin’ the rescue a hell of a lot easier.”

“Well that’s convenient,” Wakka muttered.

“Alright! Let’s do this thing!”

—-

Just as Auron said, the airship landed in the Calm Lands, and allowed Tidus and Yuna to disembark.

“Your forty-eight hours starts now,” Lulu warned. “I won’t give you a minute more.”

“Thank you.” Yuna bowed her head. “We’ll be alright.”

Unarmed, Tidus and Yuna set off down the road, and within a half an hour, they encountered Bevelle guards.

“Halt!” The guards brandished rifles at them. “Summoner Yuna, you are wanted by Yevon for the attempted murder of a Maester! Surrender now!”

“Attempted…?” Tidus wondered under his breath.

Yuna raised her hands timidly. “We come in peace. There is more to this story than meets the eye, and I would like to throw myself at Mika’s mercy.”

“Where are your other guardians?”

“In the wake of recent events, they have decided it best to distance themselves from me.”

“Then hand over your weapons.”

Tidus answered, “we come unarmed.”

The guards frisked them, and found that yes, they were seemingly harmless.

“Very well, we will escort you to the high court. May Yevon have mercy on your souls.”

Tidus had a sarcastic answer at the tip on his tongue, but opted to hold it for now.

They were ushered into the city, one guard at the rear, and one leading. As they approached, more guards joined until they were surrounded by six in total.

Yuna took Tidus’ hand and held it tight.

As they passed through town, folks started to take notice of them. Children were ushered away to safety as adults started hurling insults at them.

People even threw garbage at them.

Yuna held her head high, but she did sniffle a bit.

“It’s going to be okay,” Tidus assured. “They’ll all owe you an apology when we’re done here.”

“It’s so different than when I left,” she choked. “Back then, everyone was celebrating. And when Kimahri led me out of town, people were wishing me well. Some even gave me flowers.” After some consideration, she added. “I didn’t deserve that behavior either.”

When they arrived at the High Court, covered in more rotten fruit than desired, they were escorted into a waiting room, still guarded by at least six warrior priests with guns.

Thankfully, none of them were pointing the weapons directly at them, but they sure didn’t seem friendly.

Before long, a new priest arrived. “Lord Mika will judge you now.”

“Here we go,” Tidus gave her an encouraging nudge.

The High Court was full of men of Yevon, all standing at attention. The room was vast, and had an eerie fog settled throughout. A balcony emblazoned with the symbol of Yevon looked over the room, and a large dark pit took up the center of the floor.

Yuna was led up to a podium that floated over the pit, while Tidus was placed in a balcony at the side.

A Ronso Maester addressed the room. “The High Court of Yevon is now in session. The sacred offices of this court seek nothing but absolute truth, in Yevon’s name. To those on trial: Believe in Yevon, and speak only the truth. Do you swear?”

“I swear.”

“Summoner Yuna, daughter of High Summoner Braska. You are accused of the murder of Maester Seymour Guado and the destruction of Macalania Temple. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, Your Grace.”

Mika stood at the railing, gazing at her with old, suspicious eyes. “I have a witness that would say otherwise.”

Seymour, in all his unholy terror, came forward and stood at Mika’s side.

“S-S-Seymour!?” Yuna recoiled, backing up to the edge of the podium.

“Surprised to see me again?”

“You were crushed!” Tidus shouted. “We saw the Fayth kill you!”

A nearby priest elbowed him in the gut, hard. “You are not on trial. You are to be silent.”

Yuna composed herself, and raised her head. “This is all the more reason for me to plead my case. Lord Mika, things are not as they seem.”

“Then, by all means, let me hear what you think happened.”

Yuna took a deep breath and began, “Lord Jyscal appeared to me while I was visiting my parents in the Farplane. He looked unwell, even for someone who is dead. He instructed me to locate this sphere.” She removed it from her bag. “It’s evidence that Seymour killed his father.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Mika said, far too calm.

“What?!” Maester Kelk Ronso barked in indignation.

“What? You hadn’t heard?” Seymour smiled at him.

Yuna began to tremble. “L-Lord Jyscal, he…he asked me to stop Seymour.”

“And so you killed him,” Mika accused.

“Not even!” Tidus exclaimed again, only to get hit again.

“We did nothing,” Yuna elaborated. “I simply sought Seymour out to talk, and to learn his side of the story. He summoned his Aeon against us in the temple of Macalania. Shiva saw this and became enraged. She destroyed her own temple, killing Seymour in the process. She protected us with a dome of ice, or else we would have perished as well.” She stood even taller, her resolve harding into steel. “Lord Mika, Seymour is dead. He is Unsent. He should not stand here beside you! Please, send him now!”

“Send the dead to where they belong? Hmm…then you would have to send me as well.”

“Lord Mika…?”

A plume of Pyreflies emerged from Mika, revealing the horrible truth.

“Oh no…” Tidus whispered in shock.

“How…how can this be?” Yuna breathed.

“Grand Maester Mika is a wise leader. Even in death, he is invaluable to Spira.”

“This is…wrong. It’s so very wrong!”

“Who are you to determine that?” Mika snipped. “You are merely a child. You had your role as summoner, and you have stepped out of it.”

“I did what I thought was right, what anyone else would have done! Lord Jyscal—!”

“Is not here. And he did not understand the wisdom in my continued reign after death. He was a traitor to Yevon, and his request to you was selfish.”

Yuna lowered her head, shocked and dismayed.

“Where are your other guardians?”

“They…they abandoned me.”

“As they should. While I believe they are guilty as well, I will spare them from my punishment.”

“This is bullshit!” Tidus growled.

“Summoner Yuna, the glory in death for being a summoner to defeat Sin was not enough for you. You sought glory in life as well. You took justice into your own hands for selfish reasons and for your treachery, you must be punished.”

Yuna covered her face with her hands.

“Lord Seymour, because you were the one that Yuna has committed atrocities against, I leave her punishment in your hands.”

“Thank you, Your Eminence.” Seymour bowed his head. “Yuna, I will show you mercy, because you are a summoner. I will give you a choice.”

“This can’t be good,” Tidus muttered.

“I will allow you to continue on your Pilgrimage. It’s clear to me that your guardian, this son of Jecht, is the reason for your shortcomings.”

“What?!” Tidus barked.

“Therefore, you must decide. Either you will marry me, and he will simply be exiled. Or, you will continue your journey alone, and he will be executed.”

“Again with this crap?!” Tidus yelled. “She’s already married to me, you slimeball!”

“That is not a problem.” Mika smirked. “I can tell, you haven’t even consummated this marriage, have you?”

Tidus felt his face flush red in embarrassment and anger. “That’s none of your business!”

“A true enough answer for me. By right as Grand Maester, I declare this marriage annulled.”

“No!” Yuna protested.

“You have your options, Summoner Yuna. And they are much more generous than I would be. Make your decision now.”

Tidus gripped the railing and yelled, “don’t you dare marry him, Yuna! Don’t worry about me! Don’t try to save me! He’ll make you miserable!”

Yuna didn’t respond, but seemed deep in thought.

This only alarmed Tidus further. “He’s dead for Yevon’s sake! Don’t do it! I’m begging you!”

She looked at him, eyes set in determination, but lip quivering with sadness.

“Yuna!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yuna!”

“I’ve made up my mind. I will marry Seymour, to save Tidus.”

“No!”

“A wise choice,” said Mika. “The wedding will be two days from now. As for you, Tidus, you will be exiled…via Purifico.”

“What?!” Yuna cried. “That’s not—that is not what we agreed on!”

“You should have asked for more details, my dear.”

Tidus seemed panicked at Yuna’s protest. Two guards grabbed his arms. “What’s going on? What did he say? What’s via Purifio?”

“Tidus!” Yuna shouted over to him. “I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry!”

Mika, calm as ever, stated, “May Yevon have mercy on your soul.”

“Yuna? Yuna!” He wriggled and fought as the guards started to drag him away.

“I’m sorry!” Yuna cried again, bracing against the podium as he was dragged away. “This is all my fault! I’m sorry! I love you!”

That was the last he heard from her before losing sight of her.

He wanted to shout back, to reassure her that he loved her too, but he was in shock. Shock from her declaration, and terrified by whatever was happening to him.

Whatever it was certainly wasn’t good.

“What’s via Purifio? I deserve to know!” He snapped at a guard.

“You don’t deserve to know anything, scum.” Then he gave a small chuckle. “But I’ll tell you, because I want to see the look on your face. Via Purifico is a labyrinth under Bevelle. It’s full of fiends and traps. If you find your way out, you can leave…but that’s highly unlikely.”

“You’re all a bunch of psychos,” Tidus spat.

“Says the guy that murdered a Maester.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Keep telling yourself that. It might get you to the Farplane.”

Tidus fought, kicking and twisting to get free. But every time he’d get an arm free, he’d just get punched, stunned, and grappled again.

Eventually, he was too bruised and tired to continue to fight.

They dragged him away to the darkest, dankest park of the temple, where the air was thick with acrid settled incense.

They stopped in front of a large, heavy door with an intricate machina lock on it.

A guard standing at the side cranked a lever and the door groaned open.

Inside was completely black.

“Here!” A guard holding Tidus’ arm shoved a tiny knife into his hand. It was basically a pocket knife. “It’s only fair to give you a sporting chance.”

Tidus looked at the pathetic blade and scoffed. “Gee, thanks.”

“Go on.” They shoved him forward.

He stumbled into the doorway, the floor illuminating dimly as he entered.

“By the way,” the guard said, “if you can survive this, you’ll be free to go.”

“Then you guys must not think I’ll survive.”

“Well, let’s just say…” The door started to close. “No one has before.”

The door shut with a clank and a hiss. There was no handle on the inside.

“Bastards.” Tidus kicked the wall in front of him.

Well, standing here and fuming wasn’t going to do any good. He turned and looked around. The path ahead glowed every ten feet or so with a teal light near the floor. The whole hall was made of metal. The path ahead went on for maybe fifty feet before splitting off.

With the tiny knife in hand, Tidus started off, determined to be the first to beat this prison.

As he approached the split, a projection lit up the wall. A Yevon priest, smiling with pride.

“Congratulations! You’ve been Martyred for Yevon! An honor offered to very few! Your name will go down in history and your family will be well compensated.”

“What the hell…?”

“If you’re seeing this message, it means you still have your signet ring, and that means we’re not down with you yet.”

Understanding dawned on him then, and he scrambled to find the ring left behind in Jyscal’s portrait. It was still in his pocket, and he put it on.

“We apologize for the inconvenience of leaving this wretched place, but your exit can be found following the path to the left. The door will open as you approach. It will lead you to the emergency hallway to the offices, and your office will unlock as you approach. There, you will have your new name and instructions waiting for you. We’ll see you soon!” And the message ended.

Tidus looked at the ring. “What a lucky break.”

So he went to the left, noting that there were more lights this way. He also didn’t run into any fiends, which he was grateful for, as he didn’t know if he would survive the encounter with just that dinky little knife.

As he went, a thought occurred to him and he mulled it over. What if Jyscal knew this would happen, and that’s why he left his ring? What if he knew that Mika would take Seymour’s side?

So then what? Was their part in this over? Tidus would find a way to the temple to meet up with Yuna, and they’d escape to Zanarkand. That was a given. But what about Seymour and Mika? Would Yevon just be ruled by Unsents?

There had to be more they could do, but it might all have to wait after Sin was defeated. After all, then Yuna would be High Summoner and immune to everything they could throw at her.

Now if only he could figure out how to keep her from dying from the Final Summon.

There had to be a loophole. Something that they were missing. Maybe the answer was in Zanarkand.

…or maybe in Jyscal’s office.

A panel on the wall glowed briefly, then disappeared to reveal a long hallway. After he stepped through, the panel glowed again and sealed the exit.

Not that he wanted to stay in the labyrinth, of course.

The hall was just as dimly-lit as the rest of the maze, but it only went straight. He followed it to the end, where a steep ramp with a weird machina keyboard awaited him.

Confused, he stepped up to the keyboard, only for the floor beneath him to flash the same symbol as his ring. Then the new platform started rapidly moving up the slope.

It climbed and climbed, going in a very wide spiral. There was a wall on both sides, so he wondered if the inside column had something else on the other side.

The platform took him all the way to the very top, where there was a landing that split in two directions. Like a hotel, there were two arrows giving directions to where the rooms were, but instead of numbers, there were symbols, just like the one on the Sigil ring.

Tidus followed the markers, turning down and down again, following the signs as less and less Sigils were shown.

Finally, he came to the last hallway. The door on the very end was Jyscal’s office, and the door clicked as he approached.

Carefully, he pushed it open, half-expecting Seymour to be in there. But it was empty. The desk had a thin layer of dust on the surface, evidence that no one had been here since Jyscal died.

And if that was the case, it was unlikely anyone would come in today, so he had time to investigate.

But where even to start?

The bookshelves were packed, but as he went over them, he found little that was useful. Most were commentary books written by priests of Yevon, talking about an aspect of the religion in one form or another. Some were autobiographies of great figures. Some were historical accounts of Sin attacks.

There was one old book, written by a guardian that had survived the run in with Sin. It was an account of their travels and everything up to the aftermath. It was rather thick, so he’d have to take it with him and read it on the road.

He turned his attention to Jyscal’s desk, where a drawer of files were kept.

Incident reports from the Farplane. Reports of spirits looking unwell or leaving. Who witnessed these events, and what steps were taken to cover it up.

It seemed like Jyscal’s appearance was not uncommon at all.

But these weren’t really helpful for saving Yuna.

Tidus leaned back in the chair, swiveling side to side as he wondered what to do next. He had no idea how to get to the temple from here.

Not to mention how hungry he was.

He idly played with the ring on his finger, then came back to the thought that Jyscal had prepared for this. So if Jyscal had thought they would go to the Via Purifico, what was the likelihood he left something for them to escape—and where?

Tidus felt around under the desk, only to find a letter stuck to the bottom.

“Bingo!” He cheered.

The letter was addressed to ‘My Friend’ and actually only contained a map. But the map was enough. It showed a secluded route to the Temple, which happened to pass by the kitchens!

“Jyscal, you crazy old bastard.” Tidus gleefully chuckled.

He folded the map up and put it in his pocket, and tucked the book into his overalls.

Then he departed into the secret corridor he had just come out of. Ironically, the door to it was concealed behind a giant portrait of Mika.

Using the faint floor light, he made his way sort of back the way he came, but changed directions before the lift. The map was easy to follow, luckily, as the twists and turns it had him take would have been confusing otherwise.

He smelled the Kitchens before he arrived. He pressed his ear to the door marked with a steaming pot. There was no sound from inside.

Carefully, he pulled the latch and pushed the secret door open.

Thankfully, no one was inside. He stepped into the room, getting a whiff of the soup lightly boiling on the stove.

It seemed that it was past lunch, but dinner prep hadn’t started yet. That gave him time to pillage for food without being detected.

There was an empty canvas sack laying on some crates. He took it, and started filling it with bread, cheese, and whatever fruit and vegetables he could eat raw. A quick glance in the ice box revealed half a ham, presumably leftover from the dinner before.

Stealing that would cause some disruption with the staff. People would point fingers, distrust sown and jobs at risk.

He wrapped it up in cheese cloth and put it into his bag.

That would be plenty, and hopefully some left over to share with the other guardians.

He left the same way he came. This door was much more obvious than the one in Jyscal’s office. It was a cut out panel in the wall, with a large sign in red that read ‘Emergency Use Only.’

He stole away back into the shadowy corridor, latching the door behind him. Then, he was off to the Chamber of the Fayth.

The path kept going. The map was several pages of directions, marking turns and symbols to look for.

A few times, he worried he was going to be caught. As he passed secret doors to halls and other occupied rooms, he could hear people talking on the other side. The doors were thin, and didn’t dampen the sound. He tried to keep his steps light, and hopefully that would be enough.

The last bit of the journey came with a warning. He had to leave the corridor and sneak his way to the Cloister of Trials. That could prove to be difficult, especially with his bag of snacks.

He reached the end of the corridor, nearly parallel to where Jyscal’s office was. However, instead of a door to go through, there was a ladder. He put the edge of the sack between his teeth and climbed, going higher than first glance.

The trap door at the top led him outside to a catwalk. To his left, the path led up to a staircase and then a rooftop plaza. The plaza was being patrolled by guards as other staff decorated with garland and flowers.

This had to be where the wedding would happen.

But hopefully, not before the other guardians came to the rescue!

Was a marriage to an Unsent legally binding anyway?

Tidus carefully closed the trap door and crept the other way down the catwalk.

This led to a tower, what looked like the center tower. Everything he was looking for had to be here!

Inside was a spiral staircase, like the first one he encountered, but with no center column this time. The keypad on the wall illuminated as he neared and gave him the option for transportation to the Cloister of Trials. The platform lurched as he made his selection, and then began to hurry quickly down the stairs to the bottom.

Tidus took out the map again as he rode the lift. Jyscal had even included the solution to the Trials, a boon in his race to not get discovered. He had really thought of everything.

Well, almost.

As Tidus turned the last page over, he frowned in concern. Jyscal hadn’t provided an escape. He had been so thorough in his directions, but no exit?

Was there a second letter he missed?

It was too late to go back now. The lift arrived at the Cloister of Trials. That was the only thing that stood between him and true sanctuary.

With Jyscal’s notes in hand, the trials were conquered quickly, but they were just as tedious as ever. Then he stood before the Chamber of Fayth, and contemplated going in. Surely this room was just as safe, right?

But to hell with Yevon and their rules. All of this was arbitrary! He approached the door, and it opened to him.

The inside was not what he was expecting. A path to a dias with a glass dome surrounding it. Inside was the preserved body of a man, laying face down.

Suddenly, this didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore. The Fayth were technically still alive, right?

The ghost of a child appeared suddenly, hovering over the body. He greeted Tidus with a pleasant yet mischievous smile. “You’re not a summoner.”

“I—uh, well, no…” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m waiting for a summoner. My summoner—er, my wife.”

“Lady Yuna, right?”

“Uh, yes! H-how did you know that?”

“I’ve been watching you for a while, Tidus.”

Tidus furrowed his brows, perplexed by this statement. But now that he mentioned it… “I thought you looked familiar. You’re from Zanarkand!”

“In a way,” the Fayth offered. “What have you brought with you?”

“Huh? Oh, I found some snacks.”

The boy smiled. “Then sit and eat. You look weary.”

He did, in fact, feel weary. A lot of walking, high anxiety, and emotional turmoil. It was all a lot. Tidus sat in front of the glass dome and took out a loaf of bread, tearing it with his hands.

“So,” began the Fayth, “why are you here without Yuna? How did a summoner become separated from her guardian?”

Tidus sighed. “It’s all Seymour’s fault.”

The boy nodded. “Shiva told us what happened at her temple. We no longer recognize him as a summoner.”

“It gets worse,” Tidus added. “We came to tell Mika all about it, but…he didn’t care. Seymour is up in the temple right now, as an Unsent, and Mika too. I don’t know how long he’s been dead for, but apparently he’s too ‘wise of a leader’ to retire. Messed up.”

“Hmm. This does not bode well for Yevon.”

“Ya think?”

“But once Yuna defeats Sin, you can tell everyone the truth.”

“Eh…maybe.” He then explained the trial, and how Yuna had been forced to decide between two awful punishments.

“So she chose to marry Seymour while I was sent into exile, though it was Via Purifico or whatever. I mean, I’ve had enough time to think it over, and I think she did it so that I would have a chance to be rescued by the other guardians. But there’s a chance she won’t be saved in time. She might actually have to go through the wedding with Seymour.”

“And Mika annulled yours?”

“Yeah…” Tidus sneered. “Bastard.”

The boy was quiet for a bit then, thinking. Then he said, “I understand your grief. But I cannot help but think this is all rather pointless in the grand scheme of things.”

Tidus couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Why? Because Yuna’s gonna die in the fight with Sin? That’s a reason for everyone to be cool with all this spouse switching bullshit? No way! Yuna deserves her happiness, and she shouldn’t have to suffer all the way to her death. Besides, I’m going to be the one that solves the Sin problem. We’re going to defeat it, and we’ll make sure he never comes back and save Yuna in the process. What do you say to that, Ghost Boy?”

The Fayth smiled, patiently. “Such confidence. I hope you hold onto that. But I don’t think you will, when you know the truth.”

Tidus furrowed his brow. “The truth? What truth? I thought I was on the same page as everyone else…”

“You are. But this is your truth. Where you come from. The truth to your Zanarkand.”

“My…Zanarkand?” he croaked. The more this kid spoke, the more dread he felt crawling up his spine.

“Yes. You see, Tidus, the truth is…you don’t really exist.”

#fanfiction #final fantasy x #tiduna #tidus #yuna #I do...I guess?#ffx

6 notes · View notes

bingejesus · 10 months ago

Text

Spoiler Review of S4 Episode One

Ok so I gave a non spoiler review of episodes 1-3 buuuut it is now time for the spoilers I will be tagging these so no one who does not want to see them will. If somehow, you are reading this part, please please please be aware that from this sentence forward there are spoilers for season four episode 1 of The Chosen. Ok? Ok.

…

Episode One:

Ok so literally episode one John the Baptist is martyred. And it is breathtakingly beautiful. The dancer who played Salome was phenomenal, I don’t think she had a single line, her whole thing was practicing and performing the dance which I feel like really shows how this was all Herodias’ idea and she was really just a pawn. At the same time, we flashback to young Mother Mary visiting Elizabeth and Zechariah, which was funny and sweet and so heartwarming. It really is odd to see a woman clearly in her 70s or even 80s pregnant but knowing the story it just made me so happy. We also see Joanna going to tell the disciples and Jesus about John. It’s all intercut between Zechariah’s prophecy about John as a baby, the party, Joanna, and the actual death of John. The scene of the execution is somehow beautiful even as we know something horrible is happening. As John is being led away, he quotes what Jesus had his disciples tell him, “The lame walk, the blind see, the dead are raised,” and he says, “The way of the Lord is prepared.” Which just sent shivers down my spine. We see the silver platter John’s head will be served on and the soldier says that usually it’s used for a wedding banquet to which John says, “I’ve never been to a wedding banquet, but I’m going to one.” Which again, I’m just sobbing at this point. Right as John is about to die, he looks out a window and sees a spotless lamb feeding outside, like a final sign that his mission is fulfilled. Obviously we don’t see a severed head, but the swing of the axe is just as impactful. We cut to Jesus by himself, as if already preparing for the news. When he is told, we see him mourn. Rip his clothes, and cover himself in dirt. It’s heartbreaking to say the least. Also, it is important to note that Ramah returns and everyone is gathering together. Then, we see Joanna arrive and tell Andrew, and then everyone else. The last thing we see is Jesus approaching the group, torn clothes, dirt on his face, looking…disillusioned? It’s hard to describe it. Almost like he’s been too emotionally exhausted to have a readable expression.

Another thing to note, was that Zebeddee and sons have the olive oil ready and are giving it to the local synagogue for ritual purposes. Yousef says it is to benefit local enterprise, but Rabbi Akira is skeptical. Tamar goes with them but is not allowed in the synagogues being both a woman and a Gentile, obviously upsetting her. (Big James offers to stay with her instead of going in!!!!!!! The ship is real!!!!!)

Oh and I just remembered that Salome did have a line and it was just to say, “Anything?” When Herod says he’ll give her anything after the dance.

The interweaving of baby John and John’s execution was beautifully done. I was sobbing. The moment Zechariah can speak again, he begins prophesying and we hear it over John being led in by the soldiers. I like that John seemed nervous (as obviously anyone would be) but he wasn’t necessarily scared. It was that last moment of seeing the lamb that made him smile just as he died. Oh wow like I said I was crying.

It’s also incredibly hard to watch Jesus cry. I expected it to be, but obviously being a Christian and a follower of Jesus makes it so much harder. Especially after the love and laughter we’ve seen him experience as well. They do not shy away from humanity and that is such a welcomed thing.

Episode One was expected, but still managed to be utterly brilliant in writing and storytelling. We all knew John’s death was coming and it was made into a realistically sorrowful but beautiful reality. I cannot wait until I have it at my fingertips to watch again and again.

So that was episode one. Episode two coming soon!

#the chosen season 4 spoilers #season four spoilers

10 notes · View notes

it-happened-one-fic · 2 years ago

Text

Samba - Going to be a Sensation - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: This one was actually quite the toughie to write. The samba is fun to watch but not to describe... And, to be fair, I'm also not super confident with writing this character. I quite literally worked on this fic right up to the point of posting. The samba for this fic was greatly inspired by Katee Shean and Joshua Allen’s Samba to “Baila Baila” on the 4th season of So You Think You Can Dance. I really recommend watching their performance on Youtube. It's really good! Just like the rest of this AU, reader is female for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this AU the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List.

Type: Dance Au/ female-reader/ largely platonic/fluff

Word count: 1022

Just like a good number of the other Latin/rhythm dances, the samba was energetic and lively. It was also incredibly flirtatious, which made it a very fun but sometimes embarrassing dance to perform.

Trey, of all people, was not someone I’d expected to choose this class out of all of the ones offered. It all became clear though after I questioned him and found out that he’d waited too long to get into any of the classes for a slower dance and was thus shuttled into the samba course.

Trey didn’t let that hold him back, though. I was told by Vargas that my future partner had excelled in the class and, during choreography, we had performed our dance flawlessly.

Trey being slated for the top spot in this class was definitely not what I had expected from the usually laid-back young man. And yet he impressed me. Easily keeping up easily with the pounding beat and generally cheeky dance that was filled with rolling hip motions, amongst other things.

Also, the fact that he stayed mature and only cracked a few jokes despite the rather shameless nature of the dance made him seem like a gift from the heavens in comparison to some of the other potential partners.

As much as I adored Ace, the idea of dancing something like the samba with him was practically shudder inducing.

I had few to no concerns about Trey passing the class or being a reliable partner. Even Crewel had given him the nod of approval after our choreography.

Which was I didn’t hesitate to kick my leg up on his shoulder as soon as the music began. I tossed myself back into a dip, my leg sliding down and catching on his arm and the cheering was already almost deafening.

But that was to be expected. We were in a school full of teenage boys so samba was, inevitably, going to be a sensation.

I had been prepared for this, but Trey had apparently not been judging from the expression that flashed across his face fairly early in our dance when Cater yelled out, “Yeah! Get it, Trey!”

I got the privilege of watching the usually calm, level-headed young man go from his usual pale skin tone to a very distinct pink shade that was getting steadily darker the longer we performed.

It wasn’t long before motions that had been executed perfectly during practice were being fumbled through as the vice housewarden got steadily more embarrassed.

Of course, the cheering wasn’t helping. What had started as just Cater and Ace cheering while occasionally throwing in a very loud whistle had swelled to include the majority of the people watching cheering and throwing out varying comments.

I squeezed the vice-housewarden’s hand as he tripped slightly, “Trey, it’s okay. Just ignore them and focus on the dance. They’re just teasing you.”

I eyed him worriedly as I tried to reel him back in from the depths of his red-faced embarrassment, but he was too far gone. He couldn’t even manage a response, instead letting out a flustered chuckle.

By this point, what appeared to be the entire student body of the school was loudly cheering for the now flustered Trey. Even Malleus was clapping, though I wasn’t entirely sure it was for the same reasons that Ruggie was letting out a piercing wolf-whistle.

I couldn’t deny that our classmates' behavior and reactions, paired with the dance itself, were rather embarrassing, but I was able to push through and continue dancing while Trey fumbled through.

The very same young man who’d pulled off some incredibly difficult motions with little to no trouble during practice could now barely keep up with the dance. I honestly pitied him.

To his credit, he still managed to pull off the lift and spin at the very end of the dance. His arms wrapped around my back while mine wrapped around his neck and I was lifted off the ground. Spinning freely in the air even though I could quite literally feel the heat coming off his very red face during it.

We managed to fake the spin that he fumbled through after setting me down but executed a decisive dip that had our nose practically touching.

Something that made the whole situation worse since he was forced to hold the pose briefly as it was the final move of the dance.

By the time he had me pulled back upright, quite literally everyone except most of our judges were cheering. Either because they felt he had given his best, such as Riddle and Malleus, or simply due to the nature of the dance, which seemed to be the case for the majority.

The judges, outside of Vargas, looked beyond disappointed, though some were also vaguely amused.

“And you were so close,” Trein shook his head slightly as we stepped in front of their table, trying to ignore the not-so-subtle laughter from the students behind us. “We were sure you were going to be the top Samba student.”

Crowley honestly looked crestfallen and Sam was still chuckling slightly as the still red Trey nodded his head and even managed a smile, “Yeah, I know.”

“And you danced perfectly during choreography practice,”Crewel remarked, his gaze fixed on the steadily quieting students.

Trey stayed silent, and I squeezed his hand slightly. I think both of us knew what grade he was getting before Trein even opened his mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Clover. But you failed. Better luck next time.”

Trey accepted his grade with maturity, just as I’d expected from him, even as there were some boos from the crowd who evidently did not agree with our teacher's assessment.

“You’re never gonna live this down,” I said with a sympathetic smile, and he nodded, sighing slightly.

“Yeah… I guess I’d better go face the guys and get the worst of it over.” He offered me a smile before walking over towards where the Heartslabyul dorm sat. Seemingly braced for the teasing that was to come. At least Riddle and Deuce were there, they’d make sure Ace and Cater weren’t too hard on Trey.

If you would like to read more:

73 notes · View notes

shakingparadigm · 5 months ago

Text

I think the matchup between Till and Luka can hold a lot of meaning within it, and I'm not sure if it was intentional but the way their personalities and levels of experience contrast can bring to mind a kind of "out with the old, in with the new" concept that's so commonly seen in media.

There's something so fantastic about Alien Stage's character design and how it manages to successfully portray Till as young despite certain aspects of his design suggesting otherwise. Till's grey hair and prominent eyebags are significant examples, along with his relatively tall and gaunt figure. These features are commonly used to signal that a character is of old age, weak and jaded. Despite this, Till is the youngest of the cast and has the fighting spirit to match, debuting with the most energetic and eccentric performance in the season. His magazine nickname "black sheep" emphasizes that Till's style is unique and a standout amongst the rest of the contenders. An erratic, more modern kind of style that becomes both a point of contention and attraction to the audience. He represents the "new", messy and full of youth, sharp lines and pure energy. An eccentric avant-garde way of art that challenges the reigning status quo.

Luka's appearance does little to indicate his true age of 30 years. His looks can simply be described as angelic, almost cherubic with his light blonde curls and soft features. Even as a child who was most likely the oldest of his batch, he was short-statured and incredibly fragile. There's the factor of Luka's hair and how light blonde is a color most commonly associated with youth and childhood, eventually fading away as one gets older. Despite Luka's soft and innocent facade, he is the eldest and most experienced of the cast. Solemn, almost hollow, and with little of the vibrance and energy expected of his looks. The fact that Luka retains his almost porcelain appearance even as a full-grown adult is a testament to not only Heperu's experimentation, but also of Luka's association with constance. He almost never changes, presenting a state of purity and perfection that has been honed to its absolute peak. From the garden to the 49th stage to the present, his image has never faltered. Dressed in pure, flowing white, his style is classic and traditional, with smooth, enveloping tones and elegant movement. His performances are displays of tact and grace that are delicate in execution but immense in impact. Luka represents the "old", or rather the constant. Unchanging, a performance that extends from the previous season (which, in an extremely fast-moving and trend-obssessed society, may be considered "old") to the next, aiming to reign for many more years to come.

The conflict of the Challenger and the Champion is one that commonly involves the idea of opposites. Luka and Till seem like two completely opposing forces, one as the serendipitous symbol of perfection, and one who comes crashing in, wielding chaos. Luka is the comfortable constance, catering completely to the audience, while Till is the change, catering completely to himself.

Of course, another common theme within this type of conflict is the hidden parallel, the "we're not so different" dilemma that brings one party to a sense of unease. It's become increasingly clear that Luka and Till have very similar upbringings, the major difference being what their guardians choose to present to the public. Experimentation, biological alteration, torturous practices and performance against their will. An extensive history of abuse is what lies underneath their stage personas, and while Heperu makes sure to keep this secret under wraps, Urak allows for Till's suffering to be known. Shock value, spectacle, anything to put the eyes on an unruly pet who wants nothing more than to be left alone. Heperu's methods, while more discreet, are no less diabolical.

Much sacrifice is required in order to reach the level of talent that Luka and Till have developed, and despite the imbalance it seems as though they are the only two people who can understand each other's extent of self-sacrifice.

There's another layer of "I'm just like you" that began to surface during ROUND 6, where Till's sharp edges softened in clutches of alien control. His parted hairstyle, the chains near the shoulders of his outfit... quite the familiar ensemble indeed. Almost like a dark mirror of Luka, but not quite. Not yet.

As of now, it's unsure whether or not Till will succumb completely to this loss of control, manufactured into a copy of his greatest opponent. However, judging from the very little that has been revealed about ROUND 7 so far, it seems that the passionate and fighting Till will make a resurgence.

The final round is now underway, and no matter who the winner is (or if there will even be a winner at all), it's sure to be an absolute spectacle.

#alnst #alien stage #alien stage till #alien stage luka #alnst till #alnst luka #alnst meta #(?) truthfully im not sure how to tag these kinds of posts #alien stage ROUND 7 #alnst ROUND 7 #pre-ROUND 7 #para.musing

143 notes · View notes

cattaliatayuun · 2 months ago

Text

Tried to do yesterdays, but I got too busy to finish my idea :( BUT I'm back! Just in time to do a prompt I've had my eye on ;D

FFXIV Write Day 15- Make Up Day!

I'll be snagging Day 3- Halcyon

Literally no connection to MSQ or real mention of it spoiler wise, but I imagine this being somewhere in early or late Stormblood probably. All that matters is that the WoL has known Alphinaud for A While.

Halcyon: Characterized by happiness, great success, and prosperity; often used to describe an idyllic time in the past that is remembered as better than today

---

The stage lights were bright, but not as bright as the smiles she saw in the audience.

Cattalia held her lute like she'd been born with it, playing the strings with ease as her gaze flitted between the half visible faces beyond the glare of the lights. Her voice floated above it all, the crowning jewel in her soft, but impactful performance.

As muscle memory took over, her mind was free to focus on the finer details of her playing, adding flares to her strumming or extra notes to her vocal runs, and the experience was just as satisfying to execute as she imagined it was to watch. She was warm under the lights, but hardly ever uncomfortable with the attention; she knew her skill spoke for itself. She put her heart and soul into the climax of the music, and-

Knock knock.

Cattalia's eyes snapped open, mouth squeezing shut as she spun around to face her door.

Right. That wasn't who she was anymore.

With a quiet sigh, she set her lute on her bed, and prayed that whoever was at the door hadn't heard her. It'd been ages since she'd actually had time to practice. Stepping to her free company room door, she tugged it open and braced for the worst.

"Cattalia- err- my apologies, I can come back later if now isn't a good time." Alphinaud stood in the hallway, arms already crossed with a guilty crease in his brow. "I would've sworn that was from the orchestrion..." He muttered to himself, though it was perfectly audible from right infront of him. So he had heard. Cattalia's chest tightened as she felt a soft blush crawl onto her face; her confidence of years past had long since faded with disuse. She put on a small smile and shook her head.

"Now is a fine time, what do you need me for?" She assured with a question of her own, keeping things light and trying to refocus him back on whatever task he was here for. Now, however, he seemed wholly distracted.

"Right! The- hmm- well, if you would indulge me a moment..." He trailed off for a moment, gancing down the hall and shifting his weight as if he had some reason to be nervous over the question. "...the music just a moment ago, was that you?" There it was. Of course it was him who had to ask, and when he knew perfectly well what the answer was, too. Alphinaud was her best friend, she couldn't just...

It was Cattalia's turn to break eye contact, instinctively glancing in the direction of her lute (thankfully out of eyeshot from the door) resting on her bedspread. She'd never mentioned this peice of her past to the Scions, in hopes of putting off the inevitable performance request until she could relearn her muscle memory... and hopefully forget what happened the last time she had an audience. Still, Alphinaud was awaiting a response. She looked back to him, smile faltering.

"Sure was." She answered with a tense nod. "I'm still remembering how to play, so it's not much to listen to right now. Hope it didn't bother you." Her explanation was brief, and her flat out apology only seemed to baffle Alphinaud more.

"Bother me? The only thing that might bother me is that you've hidden this talent of yours for so long- that sounded incredible!" His brows raised in insistence as he assured her of his thoughts, but it only flustered Cattalia further- especially when it felt undeserved. However, Alphinaud wasn't finished, looking once again deep in thought.

"I came with an errand from Tataru, but she said it could be done anytime in the next week, so it's not a rush... I just can't believe..." He trails off again, hand resting on his chin in thought before he starts thinking out loud again.

"We've traveled hundreds- likely thousands of malms together, and yet you've not once mentioned an interest in music. An appreciation for it, sure, but you sound like a practiced musician." His curious musings shot through her mind like an accusation, and she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. It was a major part of her life, and it made sense that it showed, even when she was out of practice.

Her expression fell, and the guilt must have been plain enough on her face to make Alphinaud speak again before she could, a nervous smile suddenly on his face.

"Not that I'm upset-! Please, don't mistake my questioning as any kind of annoyance. I'm simply surprised that you- that I never-" He paused, letting out an amused sigh. "Just, count me impressed. You have quite the voice, 'Talia." She could feel the blush on her ears now, but she'd let Alphinaud speak for plenty long enough, and crossed her arms with a light huff.

"If you insist... you have my thanks, Alphi. Don't expect hearing it to become a habit though." She added quickly, still hoping she might keep her practices somewhat secret for the time being. Alphinaud seemed startled for a moment, before he realized what she meant, his previous energy quickly dropping from his voice with a small nod.

"I... understand. If you're not ready to share, then I won't pry." It was almost painful how disappointed his quiet words sounded, even if he was trying not to make it obvious. "Apologies again for the intrusion- I'll leave these here and let you return to your-" He held out a small pack of notes, but froze when Cattalia turned and walked to the other side of her room, ignoring his offering entirely. In her few steps to get there, she took a deep breath, trying to settle her very loud mind. Thankfully, all her thoughts at least agreed on one thing.

She grabbed her lute and walked back into view of the door, gesturing for Alphinaud to come in with a shift of her head. "Since when have you not enjoyed prying into other people's secrets? You may as well stay, if you're already here." She offered, attempting to ease her stress with a playful jab.

He seemed to take a second to register everything-- the sudden change of mind, her teasing remark, the lute she now held in her arms-- but his mind eventually caught up with her, chuckling as a soft smile returned to his face. He stepped inside, setting the notes on a table just inside the door.

"A personal invitation? How could I refuse."

---

FINALLY a chance to write my boy. Haven't had a good chance to work him into a prompt yet, but now we get some lore a n d some Alphi! Can't have people thinking I'm normal about the video game characters I like. Thanks for reading! 💙

#cattposting.original #cattposting.myart #ffxivwrite2024 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv write 2024 #ffxivwrite 2024

2 notes · View notes