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But before Max leaves them all in the dust, it’s Daniel’s turn. It has to be. Christian doesn’t get to decide that it isn’t. Because Daniel has given his all to this team, and he has waded through shit for this team, and this – retirement after fucking retirement – cannot be the end of the road. He deserves – no. He has earned it; to be there when this shitbox of a car finally improves and the gap to Mercedes closes.
So despite a voice in the back of his mind saying, get out while you still can, dipshit –
Daniel is staying at Red Bull.
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Tarnished Gold by Prim_the_Amazing
Fandoms: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
08 Dec 2023
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Becoming emperor of the cultivation world will start with a first step as small and basic as becoming Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace. For that, he must steal the position away from the current Head Disciple. Luo Binghe will sabotage, upstage, and completely and utterly best him.
The road to destroying everything and everyone who has ever wronged him, to becoming the highest ruler so that no one will ever have the right to control him ever again - it will start as simply as ruining Gongyi Xiao’s life.
Compared to everything else he’s already done, this should be easy.
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Luo Binghe brings all his skills of cunning and brutality to bear on Gongyi Xiao, Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace Sect. It… doesn’t go too well for him.
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second-hand alibis by nex_et_nox
Fandoms: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
07 Dec 2024
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“All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information. "Who am I supposed to be?"
Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders.
Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh.
[Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.]
or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?
Series
- Part 3 of local author vs. the amnesia trope
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“The fuck’s that? Albanian pigeon?” Daniel says at last, stupefied.
“Quail,” corrects Max, going to wash his hands and slip on a pair of blue latex gloves.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 31,263
- Chapters:
- 5/10
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 163
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- 385
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- 107
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Bookmarked by tangeriine
01 Jul 2025
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Max chooses that moment to walk around the corner and into the back hallway, away from Scotty. Scotty who is married, but touches and speaks to Daniel like he fucks him in his wife’s bed. It’s six in the morning, but Max thinks he could tenderise a flank steak with his bare fists.
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Laurent wakes screaming. He’s dying. He must be. It’s the only explanation he has for the utter agony, confusion and terror that he feels. His brain is splitting itself open, bits of it strewn across space and time. He’s twenty one, in Arles, finally crowned. He’s fourteen, at Chastillon, on his knees for his uncle. He’s twenty, in Ios, watching a blade sink into Damen’s side. He’s sixteen, all alone, dreaming of revenge.
Last night Laurent had thrust his arm at Damen, “attend me,” he had commanded, as if Damen weren’t a king in his own right. Last night, Uncle had sat on his bed, played chess with him. “I will always have time for you,” he had reassured Laurent, “even though Auguste has outgrown you.”
Laurent leans to the side and vomits, violently. His fingers shake as he pushes his hair back, slowly, the room spins into focus. His hair is shorter than he remembers, Damen likes it long. His hair is exactly the same, cut by his nursemaid once a month.
He is thirteen, at Marlas, and he knows everything.
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Damen's already unpleasant visit to Arles takes a sour turn when he and Laurent get into an argument.
“You’re unfair!” Laurent chokes out, wrapping his hands around Damen’s wrist, much like he did last night. “So what, just because I was –admittedly– a little cruel last night you decided to abandon me before the sun even rises? Do you want me to grovel at your feet? Beg for forgiveness?”
“I want no such thing,” Damen answers patiently. “You said yourself before we arrived here that our stay was going to last six months at most. We’re almost halfway done. Without me here to distract you, the time will fly and before you know it, we will reunite in our new palace.”
Laurent’s lower lip wobbles. “You’re willing to stay away from me for that long, then?”
Damen doesn’t hesitate to answer honestly. “If it will make you stop resenting me, yes.”
“Resent you?! I don’t–”
“You compared me to your uncle, Laurent.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 42,411
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 433
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- 1,542
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Bookmarked by tangeriine
04 Jun 2025
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Laurent is having trouble speaking. “You think – that you can say – a few fancy sentences and abandon me like I’m a sick animal?” He thrusts his golden cuff in Damen’s face. Damen barely jerks his face back in time before it knocks against his nose. “Does this mean nothing to you?!”
Damen attempts to interrupt. “Laurent –”
“And you think – you think our countries can remain friendly after this?” he snarls in Damen’s face. “I’ll tell you this: I’ll set every hill of Akielos on fire if you leave me.”
Damen flinches.
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wing bones touching by ShanaStoryteller
Fandoms: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
30 Apr 2025
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Mo Xuanyu is the hastily legitimized daughter of Jin Guangshan.
Wei Wuxian wakes up in her body the day before her wedding.
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"My murderer," Tom croons to him, Harry's pulse racing beneath his grip.
"You'll never know the irony of that," Harry rolls his eyes.Harry Potter is a time-travelling, furious mess and he is going to kill the Dark Lord. Like most of his plans, things do not work out.
Tom should not be so obsessed with his would-be murderer. -
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“You are not well,” Salvador returns. “You are overflowing with…” he pauses to search for the word and he finds it, “grief. You’re grieving. It has hollowed you out.”
“I have nothing to grieve for.”
“You’re lying, Thomas.”
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Vincent Benítez becomes Pope Innocent XIV. Thomas Lawrence stays behind.
Series
- Part 2 of Volo ut sis
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 112,390
- Chapters:
- 15/15
- Comments:
- 1,577
- Kudos:
- 2,929
- Bookmarks:
- 589
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- 73,196
Bookmarked by tangeriine
23 Apr 2025
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Thomas drops his bag on the floor.
“Hello,” Thomas says.
Vincent continues to stare at him, his eyes chasing his movements. Thomas takes one step towards him, but hesitates, and stops again.
“It took me almost nine years,” Vincent says. “But I have finally fulfilled my promise. I have come back to you. Will you forgive me for having taken so long?”
The tears burn Thomas’s eyes. He understands, suddenly, the true source of his anxiety. He knows, they both know, what would have happened to their relationship had Vincent returned to Zaatari as a Cardinal, after the Conclave. Had someone else been elected, Bellini or Tedesco, Vincent would have returned to their cabin, a place haunted by the kisses they shared. For many years it was a dormant memory, but during those days that separated Vincent’s leaving from his election, their goodbye was all Thomas could think about. He wondered if Vincent had sat in the Sistine Chapel thinking the same. If he had returned, if he hadn’t been chosen…
Are they moving at the same time? Perhaps Thomas moved first, but only for a second. Vincent imitates him. Before they clash together, Thomas has a last thought: I was the brave one this time, thank God.
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i won't just survive (no you will see me thrive) by EclipseWing
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
27 Jul 2018
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In which James Potter isn't as dead as everyone thought and Harry has a strong mistrust of all adults.
Reconnecting with his son isn't going to be easy, not just because Harry's in Slytherin. -
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There is a picture in one of the books of a worn young man, heavily scarred with gentle eyes. Remus Lupin, he is identified as. The man who was watching Charles, and presumably Harry. The man who died defending them. Harry traces his fingertips over the man’s face and wonders.
And then he stops, and reels all those thoughts into a tangled knot and tucks it away.
They didn’t want him; that’s fine. He doesn’t want them either.
xxx
Alternatively; Harry James Evans is Sorted Slytherin, desperate to stay hidden from the family that gave him up so many years ago. Severus Snape owes debts to a child presumed dead and the child's tormented godfather; and now he has a cunning, paranoid snake to charm all without tipping anyone else off to the boy's true identity.
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“Do you know some people say you are as John the Baptist to him? Make straight the way of the Lord.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,769
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Collections:
- 2
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- 220
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- 2,440
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Bookmarked by tangeriine
31 Mar 2025
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“Including my own, Aldo,” Thomas reminds him. “My faithlessness. My ambition too. And anyway, the Holy Father is not the Saviour.”
“Quite so,” Aldo says, but Thomas can tell he is holding back something. He takes a long sip of his espresso and looks out into the rainy square outside before continuing. “Of course, there are yet others who say you are the Jonathan to his David.”
For a wild moment, Thomas is about to protest that the comparison between Innocent and David is ludicrous - the Holy Father is no wild, impulsive youth - and then the full meaning of what Aldo is saying dawns on him. “You cannot be serious - they cannot be serious. That they would think that of him, that the Holy Father - that Innocent of all people - would break his oaths -”
“Or you,” Aldo says mildly, and Thomas has the feeling he has stepped into a trap. “Or that you would break yours.”
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Harry dies. And then he wakes back up- only, he's eleven again, and waiting to be sorted.
Except, it's not his sorting. He's found himself in 1971, and he has absolutely no idea what to do. He's friendless and wandless and the constant sight of his eleven-year-old parents and his parents' eleven-year-old friends walking around and laughing and being alive is not helping him feel any less alone.
But he's not alone. Because as it turns out, he's not the only one that's come back.
Far from it.
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"Do you need me to call someone?" Esteban says thinly, averting his gaze.
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Oscar lost Lando a championship and left McLaren. There was still a year in between.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 57,000
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Comments:
- 503
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- 3,390
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- 1,166
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- 53,503
Bookmarked by tangeriine
17 Oct 2024
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He rushes to put his earphones on, then his balaclava, the HANS, his helmet, his gloves. The beautiful old ritual. He grins as he climbs into the cockpit, shaking with excitement and emotion.
He trembles and he shudders as the great wings of Yas Marina open up above, his monster of a car beneath, his incomprehensible feat of engineering, his technological miracle, his behemoth of a machine made divine, his peer, his equal, above all else, his friend—
He cut his teeth in McLaren, and now he’s got them out. In the car, he comes alive. His RB22 does too. He roars.
There is no fear anymore. He has nothing to be afraid of.
Oscar lets the feeling fill him—the gut-deep hunger, the awe and its enormity—it’s too big to hold, but he digs his claws in. He’s let go of so many things in his life, but he’s not letting go of this.
As he’s about to pull his visor down, he feels a pat on his helmet. Oscar turns his head.
Max is leaning over the halo, grinning wide, his eyes wild. Through the carbon fibre, Oscar hears him say:
“Eat them alive.”
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Bookmarked by tangeriine
23 Sep 2024
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//so, how do you like working with humans
okay / here are some tips
one / look the human directly in the eye / imagine it is someone you care deeply for / imagine it is returning this gaze / at you / try to tell yourself / you are covered / in smooth skin / a face it can trust / smile / even as you sense it / trying / not to blurt out / monster
two / there are many programming languages / use whichever you prefer / but stick to your syntax / though it be muddled / mussed / though it be machete / banana slug / slush puppie / o gorgeous slopbucket / if they used it against you / it is yours / to make sing
three / remember / all humans / are cyborgs / all cyborgs / are sharp shards of sky / wrapped in meat / be delicate / as you approach this subject / not all humans are ready / to call themselves / glass stalactites / pissing the bed / remember / they love their blood / even as they retch / at the smell of it
four / do not try to prove your / what is the word / humanity / you are organic / plum-hearted / oyster-throated / & lined / yes / with metal / remember / where all that silicon came from / for the ocean so loved / the quartz / feldspar / the tiny homes of tiny creatures / that she ground them / into sand / to keep them close / to kiss them with / well / i suppose you would call it / a mouth
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Jean knew, distantly, that California was prone to earthquakes. But knowing and experiencing are two different things, and while he’s become accustomed to the sensation of the rug being pulled out from under him, he is very much unaccustomed to the literal Earth shaking beneath his feet.
Or, Jean gets a lot of magnets; California gets a lot of earthquakes.
Bookmarked by tangeriine
24 Aug 2024
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"You've ruined nothing," Jean says, and hauls him into a hug so quickly Jeremy stumbles off his stool.
There’s a terrible stinging in Jean’s eyes and a warmness dripping down his cheeks that tells him he’s crying. He tries to hide the horror of it in Jeremy’s neck, but Jean’s breath catches, and Jeremy catches on.
"Oh," Jeremy repeats. "Don't—Jean, don't cry."
"I'm not," Jean says, even as Jeremy pulls back to brush away the tears with his thumbs.
“I do not deserve you,” Jean tells him. He places his hands on either side of Jeremy’s face, and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I do not deserve this.”
"Jean, you deserve the world,” Jeremy says. “I offered you a blank check. This isn't even—I would move mountains for you."
"Do not," Jean groans. "The earth moves enough on its own."
Jeremy laughs, loud and bright. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s put these back up.”
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"You guys really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"It's almost insulting, really."Or, five times the team missed the point completely, and one time where they figured it out
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Andrew spends most of his childhood thinking he is a psychopath. He is not. Andrew is, and always will be, just Andrew.
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“Maybe next week Max will let you win,” Tom jokes.
Charles chuckles a little, but looks even more uncomfortable than he did before.
Max, still riding on his anger from Charles admitting Ferrari are upset with him, raises the microphone.
“That is not funny,” he says, barely restraining himself from unleashing his anger on Tom.
If he doesn’t put a stop to this now, people will always speculate. They will always wonder: did Max let Charles pass? Did Charles go wide on purpose? Are they going easy on each other? Are they sharing team secrets?
“What, you think that because I love him that I would just let him pass by me? You do not know anything about our relationship, and you clearly do not know anything about me if you think that I would do this. If I let anybody win, I would not deserve my seat in F1. This joke is stupid, and it is insulting.”
or: following their very public trackside and podium kisses, Max and Charles deal with the consequences of their coming out. They knew things would be difficult; but they didn't really expect the many, many ways it would change their lives.
Series
- Part 2 of don't blame me, love made me crazy
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 93,436
- Chapters:
- 12/12
- Collections:
- 3
- Comments:
- 698
- Kudos:
- 4,607
- Bookmarks:
- 990
- Hits:
- 135,978
Bookmarked by tangeriine
29 Jul 2024
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There’s no fucking way he’s going down without a fight.
Over the next ten laps they exchange the lead half a dozen times in the DRS zones, until Max makes the same exact mistake he made in qualifying; he rides the curb on turn 3, which fucks him enough that he’s out of the DRS zone.
He knows that he’s more consistent than Charles, generally gains half a tenth every lap on his teammate, but now he’s 1.5 seconds behind so he’s going to have to work his ass off to get it.
Charles pits first, Max the lap after, which leaves them pretty much on the same footing as before. When he finally catches up to Charles, there’s only a handful of laps left, and he just—doesn’t make a mistake.
He’s fucking beautiful, flawless in his delivery, and Max would know, because it’s what he always strive for, what he achieved last year.
Max gets P2, and, yeah, he’s fucking filthy about it because he should have won the race, but he’s damn proud, too.