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#like that shit was IMPACTFUL.
toastybugguy · 2 years
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I think we can all agree that watching the cast of The Quarry getting grilled by the cops Until Dawn style would’ve been INFINITELY more interesting than that hellish podcast (then again, that’s a low bar 👁👁).
Until Dawn had PLENTY of flaws don’t get me wrong, but the credit sequence was fucking genius. You’re just sat listening to all these poor kids recapping the most horrifying experience anyone can go through, and you can see exactly how much they’ve changed since the beginning. Just imagine the interactions we would’ve gotten out of it! WAY more closure story-wise, and it could’ve been used to drive home the consequences of your actions through different dialogue options based on player choice.
I liked how it was used before and I think it could’ve given us further insight into our characters, the newspaper clippings could’ve been used in conjunction to communicate the outcome they faced after the interrogation and how the evidence collecting mechanic effects the ending.
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ilumin · 6 months
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I'm crying, they're so silly
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clouvu · 11 days
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Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine
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pachimation · 1 year
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new year, new you,,,,,,,
ITS SCARA’S BIRTHDAY WHOOOOOOO 🥳🥳 thank you for being born you have infested my thoughts for the last year and a half like a cockroach and i literally cannot get rid of you no matter what i do <3
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cometrose · 3 months
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zhongli is so fucking funny when hes avoiding people like venti last year and neuvillette this year he can’t catch a break he moves like they’re his ex husbands 😭
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dizzybizz · 5 months
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KAEYA BIRTHDAY ??? ?? i love you mr alberich sir i love you oh so so so much.
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uh dialogue for this one but more legible under the cut (and a messy ragbros page)
Klee: Kaeya! Come down here! Kaeya: Oh? heh. What is it, Spark Knight?
Klee: Happy Birthday! It is today? Right? I even double-checked with Albedo and everything but I don't know... Klee: It's a Calla Lily! You like those, right? Kaeya: I certainly do! Thank y- Klee: Oh. Klee: OK OK OK- Kaeya: Hm? Klee: Kaeya you have to promise to not tell Master Jean about this one! Kaeya: You can count on me to keep my lips sealed.
Klee: OK! Close your eyes- eye- and hold out your hands! Kaeya: Mhm! Klee: OK! You can open them! TA-DA~!
Klee: I made a bomb for you! It even has an eyepatch! He can look after you when I'm somewhere else. Take good care of him! Oh yeah- He explodes if you- Kaeya?
Kaeya: Thank you Klee! Thank you very much! Klee: You're VERY welcome Kaeya!
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a lil ragbros too.... kaeya and his red siblings amirite (bursts into tears).. also i am so obsessed with chibi diluc saying "bring em in..."
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starcurtain · 2 months
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Alhaitham, the moment his roommate leaves town: Ditches his house, hangs out in shady back alleys at the port, joins the black market to make illegal purchases, picks fights with random Eremites in the cafes, brawls with the chief of police, raids a forbidden temple, overthrows the government--
Call that "Kavehless Behavior."
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catcze · 7 months
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Spoilers for Wriothesley's backstory !! References to leaks of his backstory !!
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When Wriothesley was younger and homeless on the streets of Fontaine, an orphan who ran from his foster home to fend for himself, there was no one for him to rely on. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and putting your trust in the wrong person could result in lying facedown in a ditch, just another casualty of the city.
Wriothesley was prepared to fight for himself for the rest of his life. Was prepared to sleep with one eye open, and ready to get stabbed in the back at any second. Everyone around him wouldn't cast him a second glance and wouldn't offer him a shred of help.
No one, maybe, except for you.
You were around his age— that much was evident from the first day he met you, when you found him crouched in an alleyway half-starved and soaked through by the rain. You were kind, if the umbrella you covered his head with was any indication. You had gotten soaked yourself, but you still smiled at him and told him to keep it, that he needed it more.
And lastly: you were born into good, good money. He found that out the next day when you bought him a packaged meal of warm meats and bread. Although he was hesitant to accept your kindness, cautious of what price you would attach to such a thing, the grumbling of his stomach won out and he finished the whole meal in less than five minutes. It was one of the best things he had ever tasted.
You said nothing as you sat beside him, uncaring of how the dirt of the sidewalk stained your clothes. When he was finished, you offered him a bottle of water. As he chugged it down, you gave him your first name, and when he hesitated to tell you his, you smiled and shook your head.
"It's fine, you don't have to tell me," you told him with a slight smile. And that was that.
From then on, you find him every few days at the same spot. He doesn't talk much, you discover, but he's always willing to listen to you talk. Anything under the sun— your lessons, your absent parents, the droves of socialites who try to butter you up with hollow words and false admiration— you can ramble about it for hours and hours and he'll sit beside you, interjecting on occasion, but generally letting you take the lead in conversation.
Once, you brought him a canister filled with tea, and watched as his eyes lit up at his first taste.
"This is some really good stuff," he told you, awe in his voice, already going for a second sip. You smile, seeing him so pleased.
"I'll bring you more next time. I'll try to make a different brew, too, to see if you'd like that even more."
When he gets scuffed from street fights, you're there to patch him up. Clumsily at first, with a furrowed brow and tangled strips of bandages, but you get better and better at it over time. He doesn't reject the help, and you don't scold him for getting hurt. It is times like these where your hands —only calloused by the grip of a pen and nothing more, unlike his that are so scarred and rough— make you both remember how different your worlds are.
One day, you go to the place you two had been meeting for nearly a year now, and it's empty. That's not particularly unusual— it's happened once or twice before where your friend couldn't make it, so it's no cause for concern. You merely leave the food and water in a little nook he had shown you before, and make your way home, hoping that he's alright and not too banged up.
When you get home, the maids and the butler all tell you of a recent incident that happened not too far away in the city— of an assault and a mangled body, of the perpetrator on death's door himself, barely rushed to the hospital in time. While you have dinner alone, they urge you to exercise caution if you go out tomorrow.
So you take heed of their words, bringing a new platter of food and hide small knife in your pocket as you head back to the same place yesterday. The food and water from before is still there, hidden in the little nook only the two of you know of.
Anxiety grips you, but you try to shake it off. You return the next day. And the next. And the next. Each day, the food you leave remains untouched every time.
You fear the worst after a week is up— you fear for his safety, for his health. You fear for the only genuine friend you had ever made, who had seen you as more than just your parents' only child. You don't leave your room for a week, poring over the newspaper and anything else you can get your hands on. The househelp thinks you're ill— and you are. You're sick with worry, sick with the late nights spent up as you stretch yourself thin trying to find something, anything about him. But when your parents learn of your seclusion, you're forced to give up your search. In the end, you're the only one left to remember the nameless boy with the soft smile and a love for tea.
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It is years and years down the line. Wriothesley had been doing well as the administrator of the fortress— so much so that he had been invited to the Palais Mermonia to receive the title of Duke. He had barely managed to sidestep a grand investiture ceremony, instead opting to sign, take the relevant certificates, and be done with it.
When he enters the office of the Iudex, he's met with the man himself and a surprisingly familiar face. One that he had never forgotten, even on days where the ground threatened to crumble underneath him and the walls of his prison cell felt like they were closing in.
Your eyes blow wide, your grip on the documents threatening to rip the papers, and he doesn't miss the slight wobble in your lip as you gaze at him.
"Good afternoon, I'm pleased that you could join us," says the Iudex. He sweeps one hand in your direction. "This is one of our top attorneys,assigned to assist with the processing of your documents and certificates."
Wriothesley smiles, wider than he has in a long, long time, and reaches a hand out for you to grasp.
"Hi," he says, never taking his eyes on your face. He squeezes your hand and feels you tremble in his hold. "My name is Wriothesley. It's nice to meet you."
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castielsprostate · 3 months
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hey americans, please fucking vote this year! thanks!
signed,
the rest of the world
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f-ai-n · 1 year
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Kaeya studies,,,,, plus childe n kaeya with flowers ro celebrate my friend's childe chibigurumi and my kaeya chibigurumi
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toasteaa · 1 month
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I'm sorry anon, I know you were probably wanting a really well thought out response to that question about being bitten and I didn't give it to you but I hope you're happy about forcing me to think about:
Zhongli taking a moment to swipe at the smallest remnant of tea on your bottom lip and freezing when you decide to give his thumb a teasing bite. It's not that it's unusual for you to do such a thing, frankly he's come to expect when you might be feeling particularly playful. However, a bite during this time of the year - when the seasons are turning warmer and churning that ancient need in him - and this openly with that gleam of a playful challenge in your eyes; it conjures an old adage in his mind. "Let sleeping dragons lie, lest you bring their wrath upon your head". Hmm...how curious a thing it is indeed. To be in such a dangerous position - quite literally in a dragon's palm - and to flirt so openly with one such as powerful as he. A god such as he. Ah, but you are unaware of that; unaware of the god Morax sitting across from you, stirring at the feel of your teeth just barely biting into him. He could take it as a challenge. He could allow his wrath to pour freely. But...ah, yes. This deep seated coil of heat is not wrath - he knows that quite well.
Neuvillette trying oh so hard to hold back his instincts when he feels your breath tickling his neck. He'd gotten used to letting you settle in his lap when he brought his work home some evenings. He'd gotten used to carrying you to bed when you'd inevitably fall asleep. He'd even gotten used to sternly yet gently declining your invitations for him to rest with you. He'd never thought he'd be here, you having nosed the loose collar of his shirt down, brushing your lips against his exposed skin, and threatening - not threatening, *teasing* - to bite him unless he come to bed and rest with you. It's not the right spot; no, it's a bit too far off. But it's close enough. Close enough for it to click something in his mind. Something ancient. Something primal. A mate's mark is nothing to take lightly, especially not when it comes to making a bond with a dragon. Alas: You are not aware that he's a dragon. He'll sate you for now, close up his books and worry over his work tomorrow, and join you for once - so long as you do not try to bite him again. He's kept his secrets from you thus far; do not force his wants and instincts to reveal everything to you in the throes of passion. He wants it to be a bit more...romantic than that.
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lotus-pear · 8 months
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lyn siblings <33
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clouvu · 7 months
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Offering to you all some sandy doodles in these trying times
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pachimation · 2 months
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just two guys sharing(?) a cigarette. absolutely nothing weird going on here
inspired by these posts
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chaosgenasi · 1 year
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We came to a young world. We came to a world of raw, elemental wonder. Of chaos and exultant passion. Of energy vaster, and more potent than anything we beheld in the cosmos... It doesn’t seem like it’s random or chaos. It just seemed like potential.
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