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#(they were fun to write at least)
yuikomorii · 1 month
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Happy Birthday, Ayato! ❤️
// Today is the golden boy’s birthday!! Sweet and spicy visual god, you are the reason of my unattainablly high standards… and also of my questionable financial decisions, lol.
This looks more like an Ayayui shrine than an individual Ayato one, but I couldn’t fit all the items in one pic, therefore I chose the ones that were the easiest to find in my room. :”)
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Nevertheless… I did try to prepare a SCENARIO too! I used my nsfw edit as the cg, although I didn’t show everything. The romantic part is really cheesy and cringe, but if you’re into fluff, you will like that. 💕💕
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~Operation: Ayato-kun’s birthday~
Yui: ( Haa… it feels as if there’s no ending to these anymore… )
( I woke up earlier today, hoping to finish all these exercises, yet I really can’t bring myself to understand how to solve them at all…! )
( My mind is completely in a whole different place right now. Today is Ayato-kun’s birthday after all. )
( Unfortunately, all the assignments kept me so busy this week that I wasn’t even able to bake a cake for him… )
( However, it’s still not too late for that, right? )
( Once I’m done with this page, I will definitely try my best to prepare it as soon as po—)
Reiji: Komori Yui, are you slacking again?
Yui: …!
R-Reiji-san!
( Oh no, he picked up my notebook! )
Reiji: Good grief, there are mistakes everywhere! Do I need to remind you that you are not permitted to bring disgrace upon the Sakamaki family as long as you reside under this mansion's roof?
Yui: Uuh… I-I’m really sorry, Reiji-san. I promise I’ll—
Reiji: Silence. I recently received your report card as well, and I must admit that I’m not pleased with your performance in the slightest. I was expecting such indifference from my brothers, but it’s rather disheartening for a human girl not to care about her education.
Yui: Y-You got it wrong! It’s not like I don’t care about school, but… simply put, the teachers have been giving us much too many tasks lately, and I find them quite difficult to solve, which stresses me out a little, to be honest.
Reiji: Hmph, excuses. I find it incomprehensible how such simple exercises cause you mental difficulties.
Nevertheless, I shall teach you then. Even if it requires the whole day to achieve that.
Yui: You will? Woah, thank you so much, Re— W-Wait, no! We can’t do that today!
Reiji: Pardon? Are you rejecting my offer to tutor you?
Yui: No, no! Not at all! It’s just that today is Ayato-kun’s birthday, and well… I would obviously want to celebrate it with him.
Reiji: Denied.
Yui: Eh—?
Reiji: You truly are a fool. Vampires show no interest in the day of their birth. Now, take a sit.
Yui: …
( I know Reiji-san is not in the wrong, but… I really do want to celebrate Ayato-kun’s birthday. That day may not be special to him but it’s so special to me. )
( Am I being selfish, I wonder…? )
*Timeskip*
Reiji: It appears that you’re finally able to understand how to solve this exercise. The next ones are similar to it, therefore there shouldn’t be any obstacles.
Yui: Yes, I see…
( I appreciate Reiji-san’s help, yet too many hours have passed by and baking a cake from scratch is not possible anymore… )
Place: Living room
Yui: ( Hmm… apparently I still have enough pocket money to buy a cake. I know a self-made one would have been more meaningful, but I really couldn’t… )
Kanato: Yui-san, are you spacing out?
Yui: Eh—? Ah, Kanato-kun, I didn’t see you there. I’m fine, but I’m a bit in a hurry, so… see y— Kya!
( He grabbed my wrist! )
Kanato: You’re going to buy a cake for my brother, aren’t you?
Yui: Uhh… well yes, I mean, it’s his birthday after all.
Kanato: My birthday was yesterday and I didn’t see you get any cake for me, nor for Laito. Teddy thinks you forgot about us. Tell me, Yui-san, is that true?
Yui: T-that’s not it!
Kanato: So you’re going to buy a cake for me as well after all? I might forgive you if you do that.
Yui: ( What did I get myself into…! I’m sure Kanato-kun will throw a tantrum if I say “no”. )
But… I don’t think I got enough money for two cakes.
Kanato: Please don’t worry about that, Yui-san, I know my ways. Or what, are you doubting me now?
Yui: …!
— shakes head —
Kanato: Good, now let’s go.
Place: Demon World Cake shop
Yui: Woah, I’ve never seen such big cakes before!
Kanato: Please don’t shout. Your looks already make you resemble a servant, you don’t have to act like one as well.
Yui: ( Hey, that’s mean! )
Cake shop owner: Welcome, how can I help you?
Yui: We’re searching for a birthday cake, but uhm… one a bit smaller than the ones displayed here, if possible.
Cake shop owner: Any flavor you got in mind?
Yui: ( Speaking of flavor, I don’t think Ayato-kun has ever told me anything about his favorite. He would probably say Takoyaki but a Takoyaki cake… that doesn’t feel right. )
I think he likes straw—
Kanato: Raspberry!
Cake shop owner: Wonderful! We just finished a raspberry cake a few minutes ago!
— brings cake —
Yui: ( It truly looks delicious…! Besides, it’s red as well, which is Ayato-kun’s favorite color, so I believe he would truly like this one! )
Kanato: Alright, we’ll take it!
Place: Mansion
Yui: Phew, I’m glad the cake didn’t get crushed on the way.
Kanato: It’s time to eat!
Yui: Wha—! No, Kanato-kun, you can’t!
Kanato: Excuse me, but who do you think you are? This is my cake, therefore I’m allowed to eat it whenever I want!
Yui: W-Well, don’t you want to wait for Ayato-kun too? This way, you two will be able to eat it together like bro—!!
(He pushed me in the cake!?)
Kanato-kun, why did you do this!?
Kanato: You ruined the cake!
Yui: Me!? But Kanato-kun was the one who pushed me there!
Kanato: Teddy says you’re annoying, and I agree. Now how will you fix your mistakes?
Yui: ( I can barely see anything…! )
Kanato: Fufu, look at her Teddy! She’s full of cake from head to toe! Now, let’s give it a taste che—
Yui: You can’t!
— moves cake away from him —
Kanato: I can!
— moves cake back —
Yui: No!
— moves cake away —
Kanato: Hmph, just give up already, will you!?
— pushes her away —
Yui: Wait, no—!!!
???: Oi, what the—!
— cake falls on them —
Kanato: Noooo, the cake!!!! Ngh, this is no fun anymore!
Yui: Uuh… Why is the floor so soft…?
Ayato: ‘Cause it’s not the floor, you idiot.
Yui: Ah! A-Ayato-kun!
Uhh… Happy birthday…~?
Ayato: Geez, c’mere, you’re an even bigger mess.
— picks her up —
Place: Bathroom
Yui: ( This is so embarrassing…! )
Ayato: Haa… You’re finally not covered in cake anymore.
Yui: I… I’m sorry…
Ayato: Huh? What are you apologizing for? I’m not mad that you dropped that cake on me.
Yui: That’s not the only thing I’m sorry about…
If it weren’t for my carelessness, you would have gotten a nice birthday, but now… you don’t even have a cake anymore.
( Ah, I’m feeling as if I’m about to cry right now… )
Ayato: Hey, c’mon that’s not worth the tears. I’m a vampire, remember? I don’t care about my birthday, so there’s no need to worry about such stuff.
Yui: Maybe you don’t care about it but… I do. I know that I’m about to sound selfish, but your birthday is very special to me. It represents the day you were born and I… I simply can’t imagine not celebrating it.
Ayato-kun is important to me, therefore that automatically makes his birthday important to me too.
Ayato: You klutz…
— hugs her —
Yui: W-Wha—! Ayato-kun…!
Ayato: Seriously, are all humans really that sentimental? Or does this only apply to cute girls like you?
Yui: …!
(He… he called me cute! )
— blushes —
Ayato: The day’s still not over, y’know? There’s still time to celebrate it if you’re really that obsessed with it.
Yui: …! So, are you really okay with that?
Ayato: Yeah? If I weren’t, I would have told you, idiot. On top of that, it’s not like I got anything better to do anyway.
Now tell me, Chichinashi, what exactly do you have in store for today?
Yui: Hm… uhm… nothing comes to my mind at the moment, but for now… I can’t say I mind spending time like this with Ayato-kun.
Ayato: Heh~? You suddenly don’t mind being in my arms while naked?
Yui: P-Phrasing it like that…!
Ayato: Well, if that’s the case, then… you wouldn’t mind if I sucked your blood either, right?
Yui: Go ahead.
Ayato: Hah? No talking back? Are you really that easy to convince today? Or, could it be that you finally admit enjoying the pleasure these fangs give you?
Yui: It’s not only about your fangs, Ayato-kun. I really like you as a whole.
I wasn’t even able to find a gift for you, therefore giving you my blood is the least I can do.
Ayato: Heh, I see… I don’t need your blood as a gift though.
Yui: You don’t…?
Ayato: Nope, ‘cause I already got the best gift ever.
Yui: Is that so?
( Did someone already give him something for his birthday? If that’s the case, then who could it be? )
( Ah… I guess I’m just overthinking, but now I’m really curious. )
Ayato: You really wanna know, don’t you? It’s already written on your face.
Are you getting jealous~?
Yui: T-That’s…—!
Ayato: Pfft, you really did get jealous, huh?
Yui: ( Ugh… he’s making fun of me now! )
Ayato: Anyway, there’s no need to. After all, the best gift I’ve ever gotten…
It’s you, Yui.
— Smooch —
The end
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chessb0r3d · 4 months
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i cracked the code.
#believing dirk is the worst guy because its what dirk thinks of himself#ignoring daves bisexuality and think hes a gay man in denial even when he explained hes bisexual#believing john 'im not a homosexual' egbert is explicitly straight while he makes out with his mcconahey and cameron posters more#than he kissed women(literally only once)#believing that rose is an edgy psyhcotic little bitch when she was neglected. she speaks elegantly to cover that shes silly and a total ner#and how did people forget that rose also writes gay wizard fanfiction. reads Wikipedia. and her beautiful artstyle as a result of neglect#(and by neglect meaning having SO MUCH TIME to draw)#jake wasnt into dirk. he also told di that he didnt like how brobot getting touchy with him during strifes#but as part of the repression 4(prospit kids). he refused on changing the bot settings#what jane said about roxy being better when she was drunk. it was fucking sarcasm. its the least insane shit you could say to a best friend#all the kids have issues and of course people get mad over a girl being sarcastic.#when KARKAT said THE SAME THING to rose when she was drunk on the meteor nobody bats an eye#trolls are just grey humans that are bugs. he doesnt get an excuse for being an alien. humans were made from KARKATS BLOOD#jade isnt all silly girl and is so FULL OF HATE towards the trolls. she called karkat a fuckass (VERY FUNNY) to do her a favor#“jade would rather have punched karkat in the fact then had a pleasent conversation with him.”#“she viewed the trolls as rude mean and cruel. and even thought that nepeta was just making fun of her.#despite it being that nepeta just wanted to roleplay and have fun."#dred.loki#I HAVE YET TO ADD MORE. THESE ARE JUST NOTES#homestuck#chss
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skitskatdacat63 · 5 months
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Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards
I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?
I. Magic Tricks
You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)
But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."
In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.
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II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets
This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?
From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.
Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)
2008.
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Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible
2009.
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Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?
2010.
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This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!
2011.
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Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards
2012.
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This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??
2013.
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Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form
2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):
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For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one
2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):
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The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"
III. Why Does This Matter?
*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs
This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!
There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.
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But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(
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#yes its finals week and im up to my eyes in coursework but instead decided to spend like 5 hours researching and writing this post#nah bcs i actually genuinely put more work into this then I think I have all semester dsfjdskjg#that thing about him using a condom and teddy bear in a magic trick genuinely had me crying with laugher. actual tears rolling down my face#<- HOW!?!? WHAT WAS THE TRICK?? its literally inconceivable to me what he did. oh if only there were pics UGH#anyways!! this post was a lot of fun to make!! i really really love the symbolism and design of helmets so this was a rly fun project#and i also went down a lot of rabbitholes while make this and saw many very weird articles from yore#i feel like i make an equal amnt of deranged posts abt seb and nando but i dont know why nando is gifted w all my well researched projects#<- i.e. chair post. that was the same level of research as this one but at least this one i could find actual sources about....#idk theres smth about the extremely long history of nando's history that evokes research posts like this KLAJSLSKDJ#theres just so much that i dont think I ever really see people discussing! so i must create.#haha what was that joke tag i wanted to make abt my researched posts? I think:#normal posts that catie normally makes in a normal fashion#<- one day ill go back and actually tag posts w that. bcs the amtn of research compared to my actual schoolwork is so unwell#fernando alonso#fa14#f1#formula 1#catie.rambling.txt#we do a little bit of f1
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hellspawnmotel · 11 months
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terranigma, a cool game
#terranigma#terranigma ark#terranigma elle#terranigma meilin#art tag#im going to write a little review in the tags bear with me#first the negative:#the magic system is weird to use and basically useless apart from one boss thats almost impossible without magic#it has some weird racism like most old games where you travel around the world. a little more egregious since its supposed to be real earth#i found the main character to be slightly insufferable for about 3/4ths of the game. i came around on him by the end tho. he grows up a lot#and i found whats by far the largest section of the game (chapter 3) to be the least interesting#im not really into helping cities develop and trade quests tho so it might just be me#oh also it is STUPID easy to permanently lock yourself out of like 15 sidequests#and theres a lot of mandatory things that are really hard to figure out. you need to use a walkthrough for this#anyway thats what i didnt like#what i DID like tho. i dont want to get into too much detail but#its a genuinely beautiful game for so much of it#there were so many moments that left me speechless#its high-concept and thoughtful and fun to play#you dont really need to do much grinding either#at its worst its obtuse and cliche but at its best its breathtaking#and i really recommend more people check it out#special shoutout to my friend seona who modded my 3DS and downloaded a bunch of roms including this one#so in conclusion. terranigma is an underrated gem. play it if youre a 90s jrpg junkie like me#just have a walkthrough open also lol
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aroaceleovaldez · 1 year
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Not to get pedantic (oh who am i kidding that’s most of this blog) but I am genuinely fascinated by the potential applications of the established canon in HoO and TOA that the gods canonically have both historic and regional forms, and can appear as specific versions of those forms and have kids of those specific forms, which influence what powers the kid has/what pantheon they fall under/etc etc (and also the implication that demigods can be born under multiple forms of a singular deity). This is somewhat backed up even earlier in the first series when we’re told that Percy has earthquake powers because of his father being Poseidon “The Earthshaker” (which is Mycenaean Poseidon) - which could also tie into why Percy generally takes leadership roles, is hopping in and out of the Underworld a lot, and is apparently particularly powerful for even just a Big 3 kid, since all that would line up with Mycenaean Poseidon being generally put at the head of the pantheon and also being a chthonic deity.
Now this gets really interesting when we start looking at deities being combined and conflated, because a.) the Romans weren’t the only ones doing that and b.) the Romans had their own gods originally, they didn’t just take the Greek ones and slap a new name on them. They merged a lot with their own preexisting deities alongside adopting worship of deities from other cultures as the Romans spread (and the Greeks also did this), and c.) the ancient Greeks and Romans did exist at the same time.
Like, we know in terms of the Greeks and Romans that if their godly parents are “equivalent” then their demigod children are siblings, just like if Greek demigods have the “same” godly parent then they are also siblings. However, very few Greco-Roman gods are one-to-one, and a lot are like three gods in a trench coat, and then if you want to get into historical forms then you can start running into weird things like “Well, if you go back far enough, these two Greek gods may have originated from the same thing-” and also if we’re talking historical forms, again, the Greeks and Romans existed at the same time! Which means there would be historic forms of godly parents that are both Greek and Roman! So like, where do we go from there? Would Hazel be equally siblings to a child of Plutus as she is to Nico because both Hades and Plutus were conflated into Pluto? Orcus was also conflated with Pluto - does that mean when Nico killed Bryce Lawrence, he was killing his half-brother? (cause then that parallels just a couple chapters later when Will faces off against Octavian-) Are there demigods who, depending on their godly parents’ form(s), are technically both a Greek and Roman demigod? If Hermes and Pan possibly originated from the same god, does that mean all the satyrs are siblings with the Hermes kids? If we want to get into all the nonsense of Dionysus’ origins and Zagreus and Hades, does that mean Nico is technically siblings with Dionysus kids? Does Dionysus joke about this during their therapy sessions? Are some demigods in certain cabins siblings with kids in other cabins but each others’ siblings aren’t siblings depending on what form their godly parents were in?
I have a headache now.
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sourscratched · 3 months
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got caught in one of the back wheels of the bandwagon, extended corniverse headcanons be upon ye
my bryce and clark are based on the lovely lovely designs for them made by @gaybearwedding !! (well they at least were initially. things may have gotten away from me)
additional dumb doodling under the cut
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(and one for my little team illinois + nebraska ocs ⬇️)
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notes, headcanons, etc:
- the Wicked shirt and the blue button down (from the group pic in the first photoset) are both shirts i’ve owned for a long time and are still in my closet right now
- the team illinois and team nebraska captains are named dani (daniela) and miya and pretty much exactly what happened between bryce and clark also happened with them. they also spent a summer road-tripping together; prime grounds for homosexual thoughts to happen
- for anybody who’s watched the off book episode The Kids Are At Night with Mary Sohn (10/10 episode highly recommended), i imagine that most nights after clark gets done helping his sisters* with their homework he’s probably looking up online editions of Boy Boy Magazine. gotta get connected to the culture
* = my headcanon is that he has two sisters, one older one younger
- the Away Team is from the same country as Princess Emily but they’re diehard Nothing Everything Children Glass fans (is there an actual name for the group who made it?? tag with your headcanon for the band name) and there is a rivalry between the two factions
that’s all ive got for now thanks for reading all my weird little ideas!! 💖💖
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dolokhoded · 11 months
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my one season 4 complaint is Where The Fuck Was Aneesa
#never have i ever#i really wish her and fabiola had stayed together them not working out didn't rlly serve any purpose to the plot for the new season#fabiola's new relationship was barely rlaborated upon. as expected.#and aneesa was basically written out she was barely even part of the group#plus that scene of them at the staircase talking about fab's robotics team. they still have so much chemistry and they were literally just#talking about robotics#i understand she's not a major character and she can't have a separate plotline to herself but she wasn't even involved in anyone else's#her and fabiola were cute together and she would've at least been part of the plot if they were still dating#allison was barely a character what was the point of writing some random new partner for fabiola when she already had a perfectly good#love interest#it just doesn't make sense to me. whi decided it would be a good idea for them to break up#was it just an opportunity to shove in a nonbinary character who had no personality and was just there as someone's s/o and call it#representation#cause there are Many better ways to have nonbinary rep than this#but ofc mindy kaling wouldn't give a shit about this.#n e ways for this support my nonbinary aneesa hc . it's real.#fabiola torres#aneesa qureshi#OR AT THE VERY LEAST SHE SHOULD'VE GOTTEN WITH PAXTON. SHE HAD THAT NICE HOT JOCK LINE AT THE END OF SEASON 3#im fabneesa 4 life but i would honestly be haply with her dating paxton. they're both cool and they'd be fun together. and she deserves a#nice hot jock boyfriend.
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emry-stars-art · 1 year
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When the guy you’re desperately trying not to crush on even though he refuses to speak to you anymore tears into the homophobic pastor on campus and it is, against all your better judgement, kinda hot
(More modern college au floaty ideas)
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sparring-spirals · 1 month
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There is a universe in which i was caught up properly on CR whenever what the fuck went down and Imogen verbally and definitively declared that- after everything leading up to this and the back and forth and indecision- that she'd be willing to take down her mom if need be. and i would have been deeply insufferable and writing 20+ separate meta posts and liveblog yelling posts and shitposts. This is not that universe so instead we will put this post here where i can have wildly uninformed (aka 20 eps behind) Emotions about it until someday i actually catch up.
(I know. i accidentally wrote potentially wildly off base/deeply out of date meta again. what can i say. i like shaking the concept of An Imogen (even if it is Outdated Imogen) in a jar. sorry.)
Because i was watching long enough, I think, to see Imogen in the throes of the hope for something better, to understand that Imogen was viewing her mom was a figure and an idea and an answer, that would make things easier. Her mom was- gone, so early. And so her mom, in her mind, was not a person she was an idea, and there was so much hinged on that! Dogged determination and anger at her father and a deep seated dislike of the powers in her hands and head even as they gave her a guilty rush. There were promises there that maybe no one else had made, but Imogen believed. Things built up. Expectations made. Lore crafted, even unconsciously, around someone who was, yes, important to Imogen, but more importantly: Missing. Gone. A blank slate to be filled in. A promise of an answer guide to open questions.
And then she meets her mom, and Liliana Temult goes from a figure to a person- with all the bells and whistles and rough edges. She meets her mom and her mom turns her away. Tells her to run. Tells her she should go. Tells her to leave.
And Imogen doesn't. In the same way she kept visiting libraries, keps asking, kept pushing for answers when it was just about her magic and her headaches and the voices. Imogen always, always wants to know. She keeps digging, she keeps trying, she reaches out, over and over and keeps trying to touch this figure in mist until she's real under her hands, and. Evidence piles up- of deeds gone wrong, blood on her hands, a figure standing next to Otohan (her friends bodies scattered, lifeless, around Otohan). She keeps reaching out, keeps trying, and is rebuffed, over and over. Things get worse and the skies get redder and magic goes dead and she's still- unsure, because what if there's a better reason, what if there's a better way, there has to be a reason, why. There has to be, right- maybe if- maybe. Maybe-
Its just like- a person as an idea. As a symbol. As a promise. One you build yourself up around and towards. One you talk about, not talk to.
And then the fog clears, and they are a human.
(And she's your mom, and she's not what you imagined. She's done you wrong. She's done your loved ones wrong. She's hurt you. She's hurt others. She's going to keep hurting you. She is going to keep hurting everyone. She is too far gone to reason with. She is not listening to you. She is flawed. She is. dangerous. She looks so much like you. You look just like her. You are so similar. You have always known you were similar. You always hoped. You.
Are not her. You are not hers. She is not yours. She is not who you thought she was. She was always someone else. So are you.)
Imogen walks through the bases pretending to be her mother. Liliana is a known face- a powerful one, a figure people fear. A well known silhouette. Imogen slips into the shadows of it, sometimes, when it serves her, but we know- she knows- its all an act. All a lie.
Liliana, after all, is alive, and well, making choices that she believes in and fighting for things with a dogged determination maybe only matched by her daughter.
Imogen knows this. I think. There's a part of her that maybe wishes that wasn't the case.
"There is no loyalty with this blood." And after all- only living people bleed.
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skyloftian-nutcase · 4 months
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To become an EMT was fairly intense training. The class only lasted a semester, but it was eight hours of class per week with nearly two thousand page textbooks, hours upon hours of clinicals, and the overarching dread that people would be relying on you for life and death situations when you passed.
To become a paramedic was even harder. A two year program heavy in pharmacology and cardiac rhythm interpretation, with so many new skills piled on that it was overwhelming most of the time.
To Hyrule it was all an adventure and an honor, though, one he readily accepted.
He hadn't been expecting to use such esteemed training to be combing a cow pasture in the middle of the night, though.
"This is your fault, by the way," Aurora grumbled. "I'm never holding over for a shift with you again."
"How is this my fault?" Hyrule questioned before yelping and jumping out of the way of what could have been a disastrous footstep into a pile of unsavoriness.
"Yesterday was a calm shift," Aurora pointed out as she also jumped around some cow chips. "Eleven calls in twenty-four hours. Nobody was dying and nobody was obnoxious. Today, we ran twenty-one calls, of which two were codes, one was a drunk person cussing everyone out except for the one person he thought was an angel, a person who was convinced their banana was possessed, and this."
"Somebody drove off the road and crashed through a wooden fence into the pasture and it's my fault?" Hyrule parsed out, jumping slightly when he walked unwittingly into a wet nose. The cow stared at him unblinkingly, munching aimlessly on whatever she'd grazed. "Excuse me," he huffed, ducking around her.
"The patient has to be long gone," Aurora sighed. "I'm willing to bet they were drunk and ran as soon as this happened. They wouldn't want a run-in with PD."
"Nobody wants a run-in with Impa," Hyrule snickered.
Despite tearing through a wooden fence, the car actually hadn't sustained too much. It was likely as Aurora suspected, though - a drunk driver who was uninjured enough to recognize Impa would chew them out and arrest them, and therefore opted for fleeing the scene.
"At least the cows weren't hurt," Aurora muttered, watching one stare at her. "We're definitely attracting a crowd, though."
As his partner chuckled, Hyrule noticed that they had, in fact, attracted quite the crowd. It seemed like the entire herd had gathered at this point, all staring pointedly at the paramedics while the police continued to sweep the area.
"Uh... hi," Hyrule waved awkwardly, and Aurora burst out laughing.
Turning, Hyrule watched his step carefully, avoiding both holes and manure, before he rammed unceremoniously into something, gasping and falling backwards into his partner.
"Rulie!" Aurora yelped as she caught him. "Are you okay?"
Hyrule grumbled, regaining his balance, his heart racing from embarrassment, and then he stared at what he'd crashed into.
The fence. He'd just... walked head first into the broken fence.
Hyrule snorted. Then he fell into hysterics, his gut aching from laughing so hard. Aurora stared at him a moment and then joined in.
"Keep this up and you'll be the patient," Aurora snorted, gasping for air. She turned to Impa. "Impa, I'm taking my partner home before he kills himself!"
Their serious friend shot them a look, taking in the sight of Hyrule, who was now sporting a small cut on his forehead from the splintered wood, though it clearly wasn't bothering him as he was wheezing and bent over.
"I don't even want to know," she sighed heavily. "The driver's long since fled the scene. You two can go in service."
Hyrule let Aurora guide him as both stumbled on to the road, still laughing loudly.
Two years of training for life-and-death emergencies only for Hyrule to create his own emergencies while aimlessly wandering a cow pasture. He supposed his instructors had been right when they'd mentioned one couldn't make up half the stuff they dealt with at work.
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rin-the-shadow · 9 months
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So I know Penguin was probably just making a crack and didn't actually think Batgirl was Batman's little sister, but tbh it could potentially be a good secret identity diversion for both of them if they played into that assumption. Let everyone think Batman's got a kid sister he's finally decided to let tag along on missions, and then pretty much nobody would be looking at Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon as potential suspects, since neither one has any siblings.
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vargaslovinghours · 10 months
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Fandom: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac (But really Vargas lol) Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
What, exactly, did Scriabin take from Edgar when they separated?
My first multichapter fic for Vargas! :D Yay!
(Pls read Ch. 1 first - Ch. 2 is also recommended, but as long as you're caught up on the first, you're good to go!)
-----
Side B
What the fuck.
"It's, it's possible that if, maybe whatever happened earlier, whatever caused all that blood and for us to be knocked unconscious-"
What the fuck.
"-and if I suffered a head injury, then maybe-"
No. That's enough.
Scriabin pushed away from the closet door he'd defensively pressed himself up against and put his hands on Edgar's shoulders, which quieted him. He looked at him expectantly, with eyes that Scriabin somehow only just now realized were casually guarded, curious, uncertain in a way that denoted inexperience. That was so messed up, that was completely wrong. Edgar should've been on guard, absolutely, but only because he knew exactly what Scriabin was capable of. He really didn't want to look at him right now if this was what he was going to be seeing instead.
He spun him quickly and pushed him out the door before he could protest. He got one last look at those wide, confused eyes before he slammed the door behind him, bracing it shut with both hands for good measure.
What. The fuck. His head came forward, making a dull thud as his forehead connected with the door. He doesn't remember me? His fingers curled on the door. What does he mean he doesn't remember me?! How could he not know me?! One hand pushed through his hair; his scalp tingled and that was so weird, he felt it and it was so weird- We literally just- He literally just-! As if pulling him screaming into life wasn't bad enough, now he had decided to play some sick prank!
This can't be true. It's just like him to try and make jokes at the worst possible time, he has no tact.
There was a timid knock on the other side of the door. Scriabin jumped as it resonated through his skull, his elbow, pressed to the door with his hand buried in his hair, set his jaw. Then silence.
If he was really trying to get back in, clear things up, say he was only kidding, he'd actually try.
Nothing.
Scriabin's blood was ice as he went over it again. The way he'd said his name. The vacant look in his eyes as he said it, like his mouth knew its shape but none of the meaning. No fear, no realization, nothing that really felt like Edgar, just sound, just noise.
Maybe he really had-
Oh god. His knees gave out, and his arms had no practice at holding him upright, not yet. His hand slid down the door, his other hand guarding his head as his hair fluffed against the grain.
How could he do this
This is all his fault
Stupid, idiotic
He can't do this to me
I can't believe him
I can't believe this
How dare he leave me alone like this
Thoughts spiralling, and all he could do was hold himself down, press his fingers into the back of his neck, force his chest to his knees and maybe he wouldn't immolate under it all. He was shaking, from tension or fear he couldn't tell, his mind too hazardous and loud to cut through it all. He was shaking, dizzy, and if he moved, letting go would surely kill him.
He can't do this to me.
He breathed. And breathed. And swallowed. Eyes closed, heart pounding, sure. Confusion and dismay, whatever. Pain. Fine. So be it.
This isn't like me. A hand untethered from his vice grip in his hair, and he stayed attached to the floor. It connected with the carpet below him and became a new lifeline. He pushed up and away into a limp sit, arms already burning slightly from holding himself up after all that. He shook his head mildly. This isn't who I'm going to be in life. His body, this fear response be damned, he was in control now.
Regroup. Let's- a mental pause, barely a quarter of a second long as he turned the word in his head. Let's pretend it's all true- what does that mean?
He flopped over, leaned upright with his back against the door, heels of his fists pushed down into the carpet to scootch closer. Moving was so awkward still, very unfitting.
He was acting normal. Well, Edgar's baseline for "normal" had changed considerably, so maybe put an asterisk on that. Not that he was ever normal to begin with, but normal-for-Edgar, -ish. That means he has to have some memory.
Scriabin held out a hand, arm slung over his knee, one finger held out. He had recognized his glasses. One. The apartment. Two. Which key to use. Three. He had said Todd's name. Four.
His stuff can be discounted, he's had all that for a while. Back down to one. The kid is a new fixture. Which means he remembers the last couple months at least. He shook his head and brought his hand up to comb through his hair. Well...it's fuzzy for me, so it probably is for him, too. Scriabin remembered everything in as much clarity as the last couple months allowed, there was no way Edgar would know more even if he had all his memories.
Speaking of which, Scriabin could remember everything. He flipped through; the last two months and bringing Todd in, Edgar's parting words to Johnny, his and Devi's conversation - he grit his teeth - and further back, everything along the way, all the way back. False dreams, shared childhoods, everything that was once Edgar's alone, he still remembered it. Nothing was out of place which made it all the more strange!
This is so fucking weird, if I remember everything, then why would he-
He stopped short. His purported purpose had been to replace Edgar. Take him over completely. If he bought into the conceit for a moment, just to play in the space... He was alive now. That was not as intended; it shouldn't even have been possible.
Did he...give me his memories? Like, all the way? Not just to borrow, to shape him, give him legitimacy - he was alive now. His own person. Separate, embodied, and whole. Was this the price of life?
That's stupid. But possible, he couldn't discount. If this - he brought his hands up and looked down at them, watched himself touch his own chest and felt it beneath his coat, shirt, the nerves firing as his slid his fingers up himself - if this was possible, then...
He continued for a moment, curious and reverant, all of him new and privately exciting, to exist and to touch, to feel, smell, see, all of it clear and fresh and penetrated deeply into his mind, as if a layer of film had been lifted from his senses. The moment passed as the memories, unbidden but important, cluttered in around him again.
There were still a lot of questions, and most of them couldn't be answered without Edgar, ugh. If getting anything out of him before had been like pulling teeth, he was very sobered to think about how it might be now. Depending on how much Edgar remembered, maybe he could start piecing things together.
Did he do it on purpose? Did he know this would happen? There's no way he would have been willing to if he had- But he couldn't ask him things like that. Even if he did remember, admitting something like that...
He was just spinning his wheels at this point. Better to gather what he could from the man himself. He looked up, preparing to stand.
Ah-
The room was still in something of a state.
Edgar would be annoying, or at least distracted by trying to pick up the clothes and uncarefully unpacked items strewn about the floor from Scriabin's very successful excavation of his old glasses. The clutter would have to go if he wanted his full attention.
He grumbled as he pushed off the door to pick up the first few things. First day of life and I'm already his maid. Figures. He's always needed me to clean up after him.
Silence.
Somehow it only just hit him. Thinking alone in the late hours, planning things behind Edgar's back, it was nothing new. But a barb unsunk into his mental flesh was left out in the wide emptiness, poised to stab whoever happened upon it next, and he was the only one here.
He felt very small all of a sudden, and he didn't like it at all.
His eyes blankly scanned the room, looking for nothing, until they settled on the toy at Edgar's bedside. His toy.
He dropped the items he'd bundled into his arms and made his way over. He picked up the small simulacrum, turned it over in his hands once, and stared at it.
He wouldn't know this. Not really. He brushed a thumb up and over the little mouth, the contours of its small face. Retroactively, I've never been this at all.
I'm no one to him.
Does this mean we can start over? The thought struck him like lightning, freezing his heart in his chest. He was fixed solid, staring down at the small figure in his hands.
Before he could even think, he'd already thrown it through the open closet door, landing noisily in the box he'd dug through with a clatter. He grabbed up the fallen clothes and items and stuffed them back in the box, burying the toy in mundane detritus, then closed the cardboard flaps and slammed the door of the closet for good measure.
His breath was laboured and he glared, like wishing it gone would make the closet itself disappear.
Answers. He needed answers, more than anything.
He ripped the door open, and there was Edgar who looked up, staring dumbly back at him and carrying the clothes he'd shed earlier over his arm. Something in his mind clicked over, and he didn't think about it.
"Alright," he caught his breath for half a second, "what do you remember?"
Edgar just kept on staring, mouth open, eyes unconfident behind weak glasses. Scriabin huffed irritably, I don't have time for this, and moved towards him, arm outstretched.
"Come on." Edgar gave a small startled sound behind him as he grabbed his collar and dragged him through the doorway. He threw him across the room, not bothering to watch his arc as he closed the door behind him. The bed was that way, he'd be fine.
When he turned back, Edgar had managed to catch himself, though already halfway on the bed. Scriabin stood with his back to the door, feet planted and he crossed his arms. No more speculating around impossibilities, tangible and present as they might be, it was time for a proper interrogation. It was at least preferable to-
Edgar made a face at him and scooted back, offering a seat next to him on the bed. Equal footing briefly flashed through his mind and while he wouldn't consider it ideal, nothing today was really going his way. He sighed, then made his way over and sat across from Edgar, who was eyeing him with a certain degree of caution. At least the feeling was mutual.
"Spill." He re-crossed his arms and leaned towards Edgar. "What do you know?"
Edgar hesitated, apparently thinking, his hands laced and fingers agitatedly if quietly rubbing the backs of his hands.
"I want to verify some things first."
Scriabin snorted dismissively. Where had Edgar's overly-trusting nature gone? A serial killer, well he's an honoured guest, but Scriabin? He didn't even distrust him for the right reasons.
He gestured with an open hand, Go ahead, then tucked his arm back in.
"Todd's last name?"
Pfsh. At least it was proof enough that anything Edgar knew, Scriabin did as well. As expected.
"Casil. His stupid bear's called Shmee in case you forgot that too." Edgar shook his head. No he hadn't? If only he could just check!
"Do you know our phone number?" Obviously he did, so he rattled it off quickly, Edgar nodding in turn. He flipped his hair in time with the last digit, careful to keep his eyes covered. It was a bit of a timid attempt, being the first in this body, which was a minor blessing he supposed.
Edgar mulled over what he'd given him for a moment, then a moment longer, then a moment even longer. His eyes searched absently, gazing down into his own hand, his other on his chin, lightly thumbing his goatee. He was focused on names and numbers, but those were child's play compared to everything, everything Scriabin still wanted to know. It was frustrating on a visceral level, watching him struggle with such simple innocuous nothings while the most important person in his life was sitting right in front of him.
He was supposed to be the most important.
It was frustrating.
"You really don't remember anything, do you?" He didn't hide the sneer as it shaped his voice - odd the way his body just did that now, did things without him actively thinking them into being. Even things like the little waver that made its way in that he pushed back down and under. He was frustrated, angry, tired - any emotionality could be attributed to those, nothing else.
Edgar didn't answer, just kept his gaze locked to his face. That was almost worse. Watching him fumble through things, it wasn't fun, but at least he wasn't trying to pry. He could see him try to look past his bangs, and the fact that he didn't know better...
Scriabin looked away for a moment, then thought better of it. Best defense is a good offense.
He reached for Edgar's face, for those damn scars, ever-present reminders. Edgar shied away, not wanting to be touched suddenly by someone he didn't know. As if Scriabin had ever cared about that.
Well, things were different now. Maybe he didn't really want to touch him anyway. Not yet.
"Do you remember these...?" Instead he framed his face with his hands less than an inch from his skin, and even there he could feel the heat coming off him. Edgar reached for his face, looking away from Scriabin as he touched the angry red marks. He winced minutely, then glanced back at Scriabin, searching him, his expression guarded again. Scriabin could hear his own pulse in his ears.
"...Johnny?"
"Fuck." Fuck! "Of course you'd remember him but not me." God damn it! It wasn't right, it wasn't fair, just because Johnny came first by a hair's breadth, just because he wasn't in Edgar's head, with Edgar's fucked up little obsession with the murderous stick figure- It limited what he could get away with too, if he remembered that far back. Absolutely nothing was going in his favour.
"I'm sorry..." He sounded genuinely remorseful, and it stuck in his throat. Disgusting. "So you know Johnny, too."
"Unfortunately." Scriabin tucked his chin to his chest, arms crossed again in close proximity. This sucks. Edgar just kept rambling, unaware as ever. His excuses held this time at least, one point in his favour, no points for bringing his annoying habits with him despite everything.
"I don't think I've seen him for a couple months now? Everything's awfully..." He gave a vague gesture and Scriabin uncurled slightly. He was giving him room to contribute. He shook his head.
"You haven't."
"Have you?"
He returned to his tight coil of sulking. Not like he was keen to meet up and chat, but he couldn't explain why he hadn't had the opportunity to either.
"I remember he called, too."
"Ugh," barely above breath. Enough about Johnny! Again, Edgar continued obliviously.
"Although I don't really recall what we talked about, not for a while..."
Of course not. I took over for half of those.
He perked a bit, and Edgar focused more on him, patiently setting his hands in his lap.
"You know."
He could play this to his advantage. Give Johnny some well-deserved karmic justice for fucking him over so many times. It was almost better that Edgar didn't know - Scriabin had been trying to get him away from Johnny all this time, and if he really had forgotten everything, not just the moments when Scriabin took over but every moment they had shared, then that meant it coincided almost perfectly with his first meeting with Johnny. Blank spot after blank spot after blank spot, all lined up immediately after getting his face slashed.
He could work with that.
"It's probably trauma." Edgar startled and his hand shot to his temple, lightly touching his hair.
"Like, head trauma?" Scriabing almost laughed. Yeah, probably that too. But that wouldn't help his case.
"No." He leaned in, taking a more intimate, secretive tone. "Think about it. When did things start getting fuzzy?" If he was right on this - which of course he was, but not being able to verify, not being able to see that he was right, it was disconcerting - but if he was, Edgar's memories of Scriabin should start with that first fateful encounter, give or take. A bit of reframing here, a touch of implication there... It probably wasn't even an outright lie; if Edgar's memory were perfect after experiencing everything Johnny had put them through, that would be some kind of twisted miracle.
His only real concern was their "childhood" - how much had Scriabin pulled with him? Would that throw off his story? But that was so far back, there was no way Scriabin or Johnny could be implicated in that. As long as Edgar didn't bring it up before he thought his way around it...
Edgar stayed quiet for a long while. His eyes raced behind closed eyelids, searching, scanning, retracing - Scriabin could almost see the moments where he hesitated, stopped and went back, then starting recollecting again. He wished he could see it for real, watch him unfold himself, touch those memories again, hold up his own in contrast. Even just hear Edgar's thoughts as they went by, feel the emotions he felt. But he couldn't, so he just stared as unblinkingly as this new body would allow, just watched as Edgar went over everything on his own.
He finally opened his eyes, staring back into Scriabin's though he was sure they were still hidden. He felt naked and awkward and Edgar still hadn't said anything. If he could just see like he was supposed to, or if Edgar would just tell him, he wouldn't have to ask. I have to do everything around here.
"It was after you met him, wasn't it?"
"You think it's...mental trauma?" An unspoken 'yes.' Relief flooded him, and he pushed ahead.
"Edgar. He stabbed you." Edgar gripped his shoulder, his eyes closing again and he looked to be in pain. That was a very effective reminder at least. "Do you even know why?" He shook his head and spoke throught half-grit teeth.
"I must have made him mad, but I don't remember-" Of course not, I did that.
"Your mind is trying to protect you." Not. But one of us has to with your inexhaustable deathwish. Scriabin reached out to touch him properly, but Edgar pulled away. He didn't follow, still not yet. Play up the pity. "He messed you up so bad," with a curl in his tone, an I told you so that barely made it to words even privately; how long had he been holding that in? "Surely you must've felt like you wanted, you needed to get away from him, that he wasn't good for you, that you-" He'd told him so many times, some it must have stuck, some of it had to have-
"Then-!" Edgar's eyes shot open, wide and desperate with an edge of disbelief. A strangled gasp escaped him, half-choking him as he tried to speak. "Then why can't I remember you?!"
He almost began rolling off the cuff, but really, he still didn't know for sure. And it definitely wasn't like he could tell the truth even if he wanted to; who, who hadn't lived it, would believe him? Edgar certainly wouldn't, not with his lack of imagination. He had to dress this up, weave a narrative that was plausible, had the perfect mix of truth and falsehood to stand up to scrutiny.
Huh. Ironic.
"I..." No. Some of this was Edgar's fault too. "We...argued."
"Argued?"
"I... Mng." He wanted to aim for some kind of levity, but his throat had tightened on him. He just wanted to tell this stupid inside joke and not have it affect him, not have it mean anything, and here he was getting emotional? He'd say it and fucking mean it. "It's not like I'm in your head, so-" spat out in a rush, there, he'd said it. Haha, isn't that so funny. He swallowed harshly, pushing down everything he felt into his stomach acid. He was in control. He was fine. This didn't shake him. "I can't know for sure," another humourless laugh inside, "but I was against your relationship with Johnny. Maybe you shut me out so you could keep seeing him with no pushback."
It certainly wasn't outside the realm of possibilities of what Edgar would do to avoid taking Scriabin's extremely basic advice about fraternizing with serial killers. How many times had he been ignored up to this point, only to culminate in the ultimate 'I don't know what you're talking about.' Pfeh. I bet he wishes he'd thought of this sooner. It did nothing for his painfully stuttered pulse.
"You know, I've been trying to convince you to stop going back to him for a while, but, well..." He waved his hand at Edgar's hand still death gripped into his shoulder, and Edgar averted his eyes guiltily. At least he showed some remorse. Better than his nigh constant apologia.
He stayed quiet a moment longer, and just before Scriabin made to fill the silence again, Edgar struck him with an intense look.
"What are you to me?" Ugh. Of course. There was not a single good answer for that. Even if he told him everything- no, especially if he told him everything, there was no way Edgar would believe him. But coming up with a convincing lie on the spot, when they were so clearly something to each other - even he needed time to come up with something workable. How could he have ever prepared for a situation like this? It was never meant to happen, so many things were never meant to happen!
He continued at Scriabin's silence. "You know Nny," Ugh! Even his awful nickname. "And Todd. And...me." He couldn't refute it, so he nodded tightly. "Do you live here?"
Technically he had, and technically he hadn't. Still, going forward, it would be easier to let Edgar assume that he did. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go at the moment anyway.
"Yes."
"Are we..." He searched him, looked him over as much as he could and he wasn't subtle about it. If only Scriabin had his proper glasses, he'd let him look as much he wanted, behold his spectacle! As it was, he just felt self-conscious and it was very unbefitting. "...family?"
The baggage on that. He did not feel like opening that particular can of worms in either of their current states. He turned his head and flipped through any number of halfway decent ways to phrase it until he hit on something Edgar would remember. Better not to contradict for now.
"You told Johnny you have no family when you met."
"That's true..." Edgar blinked, processing. "Wait, did I tell you that?" Scriabin startled. Even after he'd accounted for his memory! Of course he had to pick his story apart now, he never knew when to leave well enough alone.
"When you-" No, he had to be involved. "When we bandaged your face."
Edgar mulled on that for a few seconds, taking on a thoughtful pose. "I only remember being alone."
"You don't remember me at all. What do you want from me?" He huffed.
"No, sorry, you're right."
"Thank you." He was right!
Where had Edgar expected him to be? There was something weird about how he'd said it. He filed the thought away for later.
"So, if you've been living here, where..." Edgar looked around the room, then back to Scriabin. "Where have you been sleeping? Todd's already on the couch..."
Scriabin couldn't help as a smile sprung to his face. If he was going to present him with such a perfect opportunity, well, he'd better take it. He even had the decency to look nervous in response! This was too good.
"Would you believe me if I said right here, in bed?" He again tucked his chin, playfully this time, his hair falling further in his eyes. Even through the dark tangles he could make out Edgar's face immediately bristling with heat.
Ooh. That's such a fetching shade on you, my dear.
"But-! I, I haven't been sleeping on the floor!" He was visibly sweating!
"Correct." His smile grew. This was too easy, and he needed an easy win right about now.
"W-" He leaned forward on his legs, though refused to get any closer. When he spoke it was a harsh whisper. "Why...?"
Scriabin shrugged easily, not bothering to reign in his smile in the least. "I mean, where else, right?" He leaned in since Edgar refused to, and oh. He was blushing all the way up to his scalp. Hilarious. "You certainly didn't seem to mind." He couldn't hold back the slightly musical tone or his eyebrows inclination to move on their own. His body knew what he was getting at, and he could see it only increased Edgar's fluster. All the better.
"Well I do now!" Edgar darted up and away, stumbling in his hasty retreat. "If you'll excuse me!" though he was already practically in the hallway by the time he said it. What a display, and Scriabin's laugh was loud and natural.
Finally, something positive. He'd managed to fumble his way through, not his best work in lying or manipulation, but he'd set some important groundwork. He'd gotten some answers, and he could start to shape some more believable stories around them.
The biggest hurdles were Johnny and Devi. As long as Edgar didn't meet with them too soon - or well, at all would be preferable, but he doubted he could just keep him locked up, as much as the idea appealed to him. There were so many things that were possible now, things that he had the ability to do, given the right circumstances... All of that in due time. For now he had a yarn to spin.
He listened as Edgar fumbled in the hall, the sheer sound of cloth being pulled and folded over an arm barely perceptable. Was he really going to try to sleep on what little was left over? Maybe he'd give up once he realized the pickings were thin and beg Scriabin to let him sleep with him. Hah.
While he was out, Scriabin made his way over to the pajamas drawer. They were all old and soft, even just to his hand. They'd do for now, until he could get his own. It wasn't like he hadn't worn all this before anyway.
By the time he'd finished dressing, his clothes discarded on the opposite side of the bed to where Edgar had set up his little nest, Edgar had finally gotten himself a set of pajamas. He wondered for a moment if he'd dress with Scriabin in the room again, though maybe his intense stare drove him off. Who could say. He patted the bed with a wide grin when he returned and was dutifully ignored. He settled down to the side, and Scriabin laid on his arms to look down at him.
"Ugh, lame."
"I don't-"
"Yeah, whatever." He'd heard it all before. At least he could literally look down on him like this. He folded his hands and leaned just a bit further, looking him over. A desire he hadn't realized he had surfaced in the dark and quiet. "Give me your hand."
"Sorry?" Scriabin held out his hand expectantly.
"I used to hear your heart beat every day." Edgar looked at him incredulously, but Scriabin was unperturbed. "Let me hear it again."
He hesitated but eventually slowly offered his arm. "...Okay."
He pulled his arm up and placed his thumb against his wrist. He felt a strange mismatch - where he'd been expecting one heartbeat, there were two. He covered his surprise, near shock at the realization that of course he had his own body now, by pulling harder on Edgar's arm, directing him up to his ear.
"Wh-"
"Shh." Quietly. He had wanted this, wanted this body, this separation, this freedom for so long, and now... He spoke quietly, his voice betraying nothing. "I'm listening."
Edgar's pulse was erratic, but he hardly paid attention to it. His own fingers on Edgar's skin, warm and pliant, and Edgar's fingers twitching in his hair, he could feel it, he was trying not to touch him- This hesitation was killing him, every jerky movement away not from fear of what Scriabin could do to him, just uncertainty, like he was still a stranger- He pressed him harder to his head, and he could feel goosebumps under his fingers. He wanted to just hold him there until all the memories they'd shared poured back through him, into his blood, into his breath.
Where are you?
But he replied in that same uncertain, guarded tone that indicated he didn't know, not really.
"C...can I have my arm back now?"
He pushed him away. "Fine." Edgar curled his hand protectively against his chest, and he noticed he rubbed it slightly, he probably hadn't even realized.
He mumbled out a harried "Good night," and it was almost enough to make Scriabin smile. Almost. He could still affect him but this wasn't enough, it wasn't right.
He laid his head on the pillow, not bothering to pull his arm up over the side of the bed. If he twitched in the night and touched Edgar, well, that could mean anything. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he did it on purpose. Plausible deniability was one of his greatest assets.
As it was, he was just tired. Maybe he didn't pull it back because he hated the thought of sleeping alone, pushed out and forgotten, and hated it more that he was even thinking something like that. How pathetic. He didn't need anyone, especially not Edgar.
But he was tired. Not in his right mind.
Does this mean we can start over...?
The thought echoed and died, and he slept.
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hiis-theme · 3 months
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somewhere out there is an alternate timeline where toby was correct and people actually did hate spamton. could you imagine that. i have to imagine we wouldn't have gotten the spamton sweepstakes in that case which is crazy to think about given how much lore that gave us-
#puppy rambles#deltarune#spamton#my favorite part of the spamton sweepstakes is the part of the q&a where spamton implied he and jevil are divorced#are all the secret bosses in a polycule you think. we need to add to this deranged relationship#diversity win! all the people who were driven insane by being told their world is just a game are in a polyamorous relationship <3#i like to think gaster made a discord for all of them. just like ''hey. sorry for telling you your world's fake. here's a discord. good by'#i don't even care about the secret bosses super much but they still amuse me greatly. even if there's only two of them rn-#spamton is so hilarious. idk why everyone is so obsessed with him but it makes him even funnier to me#also his text in brackets is fun to write. it's also hard to write but you can do so much with it#since it's taken from various places on the internet you can just reference memes#... i mean the one problem is that it'd probably have to be memes from the time period deltarune's in#so like. early 2000's or 2010's#but the valentines don't regard that and reference more recent memes so who knows really#maybe deltarune's actually meant to be in modern times. i mean you could fully convince me#that noelle just likes old internet-style websites and stuff dfskljfdsdfjksfkjlsfkj-#(i mean some of the meme references are up to interpretation)#(but the two definite ones are the war thunder forums leaking military documents and also the hotel mario intro)#(and at the very least the former is a newer thing)#(there's also seemingly references to the ''let me in'' meme and the foam shower images from the april fool's newsletter last year)#(idk where the fuck else ''insulating foam'' would be taken from-)#i hope spamton just randomly contributes to conversations sometimes if you have the dealmaker equipped#i logically doubt it but it'd be extremely hilarious#i'm now imagining equipping the dealmaker to noelle. who was not there for either spamton encounter#''um. kris why's there a voice in my head telling me to be a big shot?'' ''don't worry about it''#alternatively if you just get the dealmaker from the hole in castle town cuz you have another file with it#... can you do that in chapter 2 files. if so then can you technically have the dealmaker while not having met spamton-#''player why is there a voice in my head telling me to be a big shot'' ''don't worry about it''#''i'm sparing you from having an existential crisis later-''
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starlene · 23 days
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My top 3 most insane interactions with the Finnish professional theatre community:
1) When a representative of [redacted] told me to take down my post with a cookie I had decorated to resemble a character in their musical, for I had edited a photo of said character next to the cookie, and that was unauthorized use of their promotional photography
2) The whole blackface debacle of 2016
3) When [redacted] from [redacted] accused me of making a two-part podcast episode (about a very wide-spread issue) just to accuse/insult them
Fun times!! Never forget, forgiveness handled on a case-by-case basis.
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rox-and-prose · 7 months
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So, I know the Arena in AC6 isn't really that hard but it still felt really good to sweep through it. Like, I'm not that good at the game, I'm playing without a table or desk or really any hard flat surface to put my mouse on (using it directly on my mattress), and I'm sure a lot of my victories were flukes, but it still felt nice to beat V.I Freud in 23 seconds on my first try lol.
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doobea · 22 days
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Can you do Blue Lock Rin x female reader x Sae? The brothers are fighting for her love.
omg I don’t do requests anymore 😭😭 I only open my inbox for reqs during events/milestones (my brain gets easily overwhelmed with other things…)
but I won’t lie that this prompt is a fun idea to do … one day I’ll get to it but not anytime soon - sorry anon 🥲
plus love triangles are tough because who are we supposed to root for 😔👊🏻 (let’s be real those brothers WOULD NOT share)
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