1 - 20 of 68 Works in Ruby (Disco Elysium)
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前两章为第一视角，第三章为露比视角第三人称。
原创人物基本为摄像头作用。
原作中莉莉恩没有见过露比，这里我做了修改。从旁人的五感中拼凑出来的卡拉洁。
点击entire work再点击kudos有彩蛋。
- Language:
- 中文-普通话 國語
- Words:
- 18,151
- Chapters:
- 2/3
- Hits:
- 13
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Lilienne would end up hurting her too, she knows, all women tend to, but here in the night, now, she looks so safe. Maybe that’s why she’s here: Ruby’s achilles heel is women who look so, so safe until they fuck her over. Women who work in repeater stations, who are disco dancers, who are net-pickers in small towns.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,540
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 28
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no shortage of sordid (no protest from me) by divorceadvocate
Fandoms: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
03 Dec 2025
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Klaasje looks lost in thought, gazing out over the horizon with a sort of sad expression on her face. Ruby desperately wants to know what she’s thinking about, but doubts she’ll actually tell Ruby the truth. Klaasje has barely told her anything about herself as it is. Ruby doesn’t think Klaasje is even her real name. No, she knows it isn’t. That’s okay, everyone is running from something. It’s selfish of her to want to know more.
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Руби проводит вечер в номере Клаасье.
Эта работа написана под впечатлениями от песни Sexy Sushi - Oublie-moi. Её крайне рекомендуется прослушать. Да и в целом, данная группа бесконечно хорошо подходит под вселенную Элизиума, на самом деле. Очень многие их песни ассоциируются с игрой.
!!! Это просто pwp. Горько-сладкое. Без претензии на идеальность, или, уж тем более, великую глубину смысла.
- Language:
- Русский
- Words:
- 881
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 1
- Hits:
- 12
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Руби и Клаасье общались довольно тесно, пока в Мартинез не выехали представители РГМ. Краткая зарисовка их совместного утра.
- Language:
- Русский
- Words:
- 1,707
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 3
- Hits:
- 9
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Summary
‘Does this mean I'm a coward?’
Kim's eyebrows rise. ‘It takes much more bravery to face violence without a gun—or without using it, officer. It's not the brave ones who shoot the most.’
I'm not a dumbfuck. I'm a real, respectable police officer.
Kim considers the single dot.
‘Either you're the type to put the burden on your partner, or you're brilliant enough to navigate your way out of very tight spots.’
Harris almost asks, Which do you think I am? He almost says, I don't want to kill anyone. But I don't want to make you do it either.
Instead, he says, sotto voce, ‘I'll have to aim for brilliant, then.’
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A man wakes up in a trashed hotel room with no recollection of who he is, how he got there and whether he's responsible for the massive bender he's coming down from.
He's given a name (Lieutenant Harris Du Bois), an occupation (investigating a murder) and a partner (Kim Kitsuragi).
He finds that, perhaps, this is all that he needs.
*
Trigger warnings for the whole fic will be included at the beginning of Chapter 1. You may choose to skip them altogether if you wish. -
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She sighs again, sounding like birdsong. No, not quite. That’s the kind of thing Tommy would say. If he were in your position, he’d write about Klaasje like she’s an angel. He’d say she’s tall, graceful, and delicate. But you know her, really know her, better than anyone else in Martinaise knows her — better than any of the Hardie Boys, better than that piece of shit. You’d write her as what she is: a monster.
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"Friends, right?"
Ruby is on the run, thanks to Klaasje- someone she considered a friend, at least. Klaasje is on the run, from the Moralintern and herself. A chance meeting at a bar offers some opportunity for closure.
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You raise your pistol but you are too late. Harry stumbles back, the bullet flying past you as a deep sangria rose grows out of the exit wound on his right shoulder. It grows more and more with each heaving breath Harry takes. He's been shot.
He's been shot.
.
.
.
(name and premise taken from "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc) -
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This one's for the superfans. I *highly* recommend you have experienced at least two full playthroughs of Disco Elysium before reading this fic; the more you know Martinaise, the more you'll see. Also, I swear this story has literary merit and isn't just weird grossout BS, but this *is* Disco Elysium we're talking about, the story *is* called "Puke", and that dove is deader than Scotty the skua. Pop on your Eight-Eyed Teratorn Tie and buckle up.
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в серости скорчиться, серостью сторчаться
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She drops down on the barstool next to you, and places a light hand on your thigh. It’s obviously suggestive, but easy enough for you to brush off and leave. Of course she wants to fuck. What else would she want from you? You’re just another one of the Hardie boys to have sex with.
It’s not like it matters, anyway.
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the glow of a thousand fireflies in a travelodge en-suite by bene_castigat
Fandoms: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
15 Feb 2025
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In London, 1985, Harrier Du Bois and Kim Kitsuragi are sixteen years old. When they’re caught by their second period English teacher kissing outside the boy’s bathroom, they’re both immediately separated.
Greenacre’s Camp for Troubled Boys isn’t like most camps of its ilk. No criminals or antisocial teenagers got sent there. No, Greenacre’s was specifically for the worst kind of misconduct- homosexuality.
Unfortunately, no grown adult is any match for a group of teenage boys with a point to prove.
Series
- Part 1 of we are beautiful, we are doomed
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Ruby and Cunoesse have a little talk. That's pretty well it.
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Klaasje and Ruby hang out for a bit.
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最后的最后，Ruby 和 Klaasje 还是一起踏上了那趟公路之旅。
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Klaasje turns to Martinaise. Scents, sounds, words without meaning. Ruby right within it. Klaasje turns away - memories scatter in the Pale.
//
It probably helps that the sinewy column of Klaasje’s throat is outlined just right by the precision of her well-kept mane, doused in much too expensive perfume. It probably helps that Klaasje grinds the world to dust with the hint of a smile grazing the edge of her shimmering lips. A deathly black oil spill sitting smack in her face.
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Some days following the charade performed by the Hardie Boys, Klaasje found herself pondering on the balcony attached to her hostel room once again. The brisk breeze does not let up, and the harsh asphalt's blemishes never clear no matter how hard she may pray. As Ruby joins her lean against the railing, there's hope for respite from vexing thoughts of romance -- hope sorely unfounded.
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Ruby’s eyes searched the floor as she tried to cohere her singular thought (How dare you? How dare you? How dare you?) into a different, more specific question.
“Why did you- what did you tell them?” She had to hear it herself. Do we ‘have’ to?
Klaasje’s reply was immediate — tense and quiet, “‘Them’, who? I-I don’t know what you’re-”
Ruby shouted, almost laughing, “YES, YOU DO! You do, Klaasje,” and Klaasje winced — not at Ruby’s rising tone… but at the use of that word. That soft, long, guttural sound which meant herself – Klaasje. Ruby squinted. That’s right… that wasn’t even her real name.
[a ruby/klaasje roadtrip fic]