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zibiscusloon · 7 months

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Because it's impossible to choose one, rate and order the cameos/easter eggs you loved most in the movie

I’m gonna go with some of my favorites off the top of my head! There were so many across the whole movie and I loved each and every one, lol

(Note this is in no specific order!)

1. Chica’s fucking Magic Rainbow

My friend Axe ( @gayfrogsarecool ) caught this lil easter egg while we were watching the movie and it managed to flood back so many memories. So.. many… memories…. (All of yelling at a rude ass rainbow-)

I’m probably in a minority of people who loved Fnaf World during its initial release, so I really wasn’t thinking there’d be a World reference! It was really sweet to see!

2. Balloon Boy (lil bastard-)

I can’t believe I’m admitting that this lil shit is the only animatronic who managed to succeed on every single fucking jumpscare. He got me each time— There was no excuse for them to work every time! He was literally just standing there! But noooooo, Freddy biting Max in half only gave me a brief pause of “Oh.” But the batterie thief himself is the one who made me jump from my seat- what the fuck-

3. Sparky the Dog! (And Sparky’s Diner!)

Every single fan who has been around since Fnaf 1 knows who Sparky the Dog is! The original hoax character. I remember when I was little and I’d be up watching theories trying to debunk whether or not he was a real character! A fan character was a big surprise and seeing that he even has an in universe diner themed around him made me feel like a kid again! (Only this kid now gets confirmation of a Canon Sparky-)

(Also Imma just say his movie design is adorable I love him sm-)

4. Carl & The Cupcake

Noticed this one out more recently! So during the whole segment where Max & her friends are picked off one by one by the gang I learned that the dude that the Cupcake straight up mauls happens to be named “Carl”! I have no idea if it was intentional or not but it could be a nod to The Cupcake’s fanon name!

5. The Ella springlock suit

So Ella on her own was a rather eerie and intriguing concept from the books (Saying this as someone who is still really iffy with how the whole “Charlie is a Robot” concept was handled)

But seeing her as her own animatronic in the movie really managed to bring up her creep factor! She just looks so ragged and forgotten, she looks like a creepy af porcelain doll (and I love that-). Makes me wonder if we’ll ever see animatronic Ella up and running (probably not but it’d be cool none the less!)

6. Cory & Matpat!

Coryxkenshin has always been a comfort channel for me! I always found his content genuinely nice, genuine, and I have a habit of going back to plenty of his old game playthroughs when I’m feeling down. Man also got jumped by BB- you and me both pal-

When I tell you the cackling I had from the whole “That’s just a theory” line, cheeky son of a- (also I now hc Ness as the Hurricane local menace who is a constant thorn in William’s side cause he keeps breaking into the Pizzaria on the weekends looking for evidence and shit from the MCI)

7. And Of course..

I mean did they really expect to have this as the end credits song and for me to not loudly sing it? Childhood in song form-

#my blog #fnaf #zibi rambles #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #chica’s magic rainbow #ballon boy #sparky the dog #fnaf cupcake #fnaf ella #fnaf ness #(give Cory’s cabbie a name you cowards)#fun fact! when me and Axe went to watch it out theatre’s camera was actually glitching out #but we thought it was intentional-#to go with the whole security camera effect #we found out later that it was definitely NOT intentional the cinemark’s camera was just acting quirky #but it really added to the experience as our first watch!

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co-mixed · 10 months

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Why Boom Still Can’t Get Buffy Right

My love for the Buffyverse is concrete but it has its limits. Yesterday I had a very unpleasant experience finishing yet another unimpressive Buffy run, courtesy of Boom Comics. It’s always disappointing to me because Buffyverse has so much potential and untold stories. It’s a goldmine that is constantly held back and simply can’t find its footing in the comics medium. Why is that?

Boom’s been rather relentless in trying to make Buffy work. Several years and runs later, there’s still no big WOW story that can attract readers and viewers alike. Not just that, but even seasoned buffy fans don’t seem very interested in continuous attempts at rebooting the Slayer tale. You can blame the word reboot (it does tend to scare people) but the real reason is still Boom’s inability to deliver a good captivating story.

Boom had tried reinventing Buffy, sending her back to school, developing alternate realities and futures. But in every iteration, Buffy and the Scooby Gang were plagued with the same mistakes over and over again.

Hey, I’m not sure what I am, so bear with me here

The characters from Buffy are some of the most well-developed characters out there. Each one has a point of origin, a story, and a final form. We love them because we know them. And we know them extremely well.

Let’s take the fan-favorite, Spike. We’ve seen his whole afterlife and even bits of his life. We know how he became William the Bloody, then Spike, a neutered vampire, and finally, an ensouled champion. We know how, and more importantly, we know why.

I’d hate to throw in one more why but there is a reason Spike exists in the show, and we know it.

When you read Boom comics, it feels like writers stick him into every arc just because they like him. He brings nothing to the story, he has no soul or chip yet chooses to join the scoobies. That does not look like the Spike we know. That guy was in s2-s4, not s5-s7. That’s the guy from School Hard or the one who got the Gem of Amara and happily marched to kill Buffy.

But there’s nothing stronger than the author’s desire to make things ‘right’. Hence this spike lookalike joining the team every time.

The funny part is, I can very well imagine a soulless chipless Spike who’s not a monster. If Dru sires him and never sees him again, if she never introduces him to Angelus, if he keeps on writing his bloody awful poetry only forever. He probably would’ve turned out like that poor librarian guy whose glasses Dru broke or like Harmony who still tried to be decent. But it’s the writer’s job to explain it, to write it into the story, not just throw a character into a book and see whether they swim or go down. They will always go down.

Spike is only one of the issues here. In the show, both Kendra and Faith exist to show us the perfect (according to the council) and the fallen slayer. Two possible realities for Buffy. They have their own arcs (well, Faith does) but the show is strong because supporting characters serve a purpose. Just like the people we meet in real life always serve a purpose for us. You might believe that one character pushing the development of another is cruel, but that’s still how good stories are made. That’s still why Buffy is popular 20 years after the show’s finale.

Kendra and Faith did that for Buffy in the show. In the Boom comics they just exist. They show up for no reason and they just hang around. You can take them out of the story and nothing will change. At one point in the initial reboot there were three slayers at the same time, and that felt more like a fix-it fanfic than a quality comic book. Unfortunately, some slayers have to die and some have to turn evil. Besides, without her rebellious personality, Faith is meaningless.

I have one more bone to pick. I know that Buffy and Angel (still the OTP of the show!) are a complicated matter to many modern writers. And readers, and viewers. There’s no place to hide from the creep factor and even though I will defend this ship till the day everyone finally agrees with me, I can’t deny its presence. But that doesn’t mean you get to discard this ship and separate Buffy and Angel into different books. One doesn’t exist or grow without the other. There is no Buffy in love with a vampire without Angel. There is only Vampire. Slayer. Dead vampire.

Without Buffy, Angel is not in LA helping the helpless. He’s in New York eating low rats. Before trying to launch two separate books, how about Boom launches one good one, that provides background, even if revised and adapted to the modern days?

I always worried what would happen when that b*tch got some funding

All this chaotic mess with the characters determines the stories Boom puts out. They tend to have an interesting start but by the time issue 3 comes out, it’s either Camazotz flying around Sunnydale, a giant crab taking over the main street, or whatever the hell Silas was (a soul eater?) Didn’t care for him much. Not even when we were evil.

More often than not Boom writers suffer from the same disease that plagued Dark Horse comics – scale. Just because you can do anything doesn’t mean you should. Comics allow you to draw literally any kind of baddie but you are playing within a specific world, and suspense of disbelief only goes so far. Besides, in the show, it all grows gradually. You go from the Master to the First evil. In the comics… seriously, what the hell was Silas?

From what I’ve read so far, Boom knows how to ask interesting questions:

What if Buffy went to school today?

What if Willow took over as the slayer?

What if Buffy was older?

Those are all good what ifs but Boom has a problem following through. They don’t know the answer to this question and it feels like they’re making it up as they go along. If I’m being honest, it even feels like they wrote random ideas on pieces of paper, through them in a hat, and started pulling each time they hit a wall.

Characters show up for now reason (hi, Tara from the latest run), they don’t feel like themselves, and the saddest part – none of it feels like you are getting your favorite show back.

These characters deserve better than that.

And there’s not a one who can say this ended well

At this point, I don’t know if Boom wants Buffy comics to succeed. I don’t mean to be this dramatic but every time someone mentions comics, fans think Dark Horse. Not because they are still considered canon, but because they had a connection to the beloved show. Boom comics don’t give you that, so you can’t look the other way when writers don’t deliver. It’s just how it works.

I keep thinking what Boom can do to get out of this vicious circle. And I do believe there If they want to successfully play in the Buffyverse, they have to seriously up their game. It’s not impossible either. I mean, Something is Killing the Children is being released by the same studio. And what is that if not a more gruesome version of Buffy? So it’s not exactly magic. It’s doable.

Personally, I still hold out hope that someone would dare explore the terrifying bloody past of the Whirlwind. Wouldn’t that be fun and gory? I’d like to see deep well-thought-through stories of past slayers. I’d happily read a well-illustrated comic run based on In Every Generation. And if we have to go back to Buffy variants, why not reinvent her story? But before we get to that, we’d have to work through every step of every character. Get them to where we want them, and start with a story that we want to tell, from start to finish. From her first day as a slayer to her last one (she didn’t have to empower the potentials after all).

That, of course, requires a lot of work. And if Boom isn’t ready to put in that kinda effort, they could just move from season 5, introduce a new slayer, and watch how her adventures unravel.

Buffyverse is a hell of a property and there are too many stories waiting to be written. I’m probably still gonna give it a shot whenever Boom comes up with something new. I just hope I won’t have to write yet another long read complaining about it.

#buffy comics #buffy x angel #buffy summers #buffy the vampire slayer #buffyverse #buffy x spike #buffysource #comics #comic books #long reads #boom buffy #boom comics #btvs #btvs comics #kendra young #faith lehane

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audhd-nightwing · 6 months

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percy jackson ep1 live reaction

(spoilers obviously)

nope i still hate how they animated nancy falling into the fountain. like it just looks like he pushed her in with telekinesis or smth not like the water grabs her. like it would’ve been soooo easy to just make it look like the water surges up and pulls her in but whatever

why does the mrs dodds scene happen so fast??? they really could’ve (and should’ve) made it longer / accurate to the books. just have her bring percy into the museum alone (upping the creep factor) and use her for exposition. the whole scene happens in like less than a minute and you don’t really have any time to be freaked out by her.

(in the book, reading as they walk into a deserted area of the museum, her saying weird & accusing stuff to percy, it’s soo good and suspenseful)

also why is she speaking to him telepathically tf

and like! they have the time! it’s such a big part of that chapter, it’s literally the title! and she’s only in about a minute of the episode!

ALSO THEY ADDED A WHOLE SCENE RIGHT AFTER IT THAT WAS TOTALLY UNNECESSARY (grover has always been a great friend he doesn’t need to dramatically take the blame for percy. also who tf cares if she was pushed into the fountain, that does not need to be told to the principal tf.)

OH WHAT. HE FUCKING BLAMES PERCY??? no that’s stupid i hate it. plus we don’t get the scene where percy overhears grover and mr brunner talking which ALSO gives us important exposition agh im annoyed. my boy grover would never do that to percy i stand by this

“wanna bet?” very percy energy i love it

gabe isn’t greasy/smelly-looking enough. he’s literally called ‘smelly gabe’ and it’s the whole reason sally married him. he should look like he hasn’t showered in years

sally ur so real for that. sitting in the rain listening to olivia rodrigo

BLUE CANDY YAYYYY

i’m still mad about what grover did to percy tbh, book!grover would never

“who’s Yancy” lmaooo

the whole “why should i let you” is a perfect example of gabe’s abuse ngl

i think they could’ve aged show!percy up a year to thirteen. it wouldn’t really change anything plus it’d be more accurate to walker’s age (he does NOT look twelve, but he could def pass for 13)

we missed the whole three fates scene! and grover being a good friend to percy! i’m upset. so much info and amazing foreshadowing (and grover scenes) were skipped out on

if i was sally i would burst out laughing at “like jesus?” she’s so strong for that

why ‘half-blood’ not ‘demigod’?

grover ily. he’s so cutie pie

mythomagic 💪

“i’m actually 24” i literally adore you goat boy

okay i like that the minotaur fight scene stays mostly the same

HELLO THEY JUST LEAVE HIM IN THE DIRT UNTIL SUNRISE????

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson show #pjo series #percy jackson series #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers #annabeth chase #grover underwood #spoiler warning is more so for what stuff they change and all that #obviously the books have been out for over a decade so you can’t really spoil the plot

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snailsgoingdowntown · 11 months

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Blade x fem! Reader

Part 6 of writing for blade until he comes home

Warnings: mention of blood, implied murder, suggestive, toxic relationships (both familial and romantic) (I swear it gets ‘better’ later on, Blade is just a bitch), reader indecisive as fuck. Probably slight yandere, idek anymore, I’m tired.

Minors/blank blogs dni

Blog contains/creates/interacts with dark content. Dni if uncomfortable.

Written from 9pm to 1am with no break, constantly changing it, I’m sorry if it’s all over the place, tone never the same, and doesn’t make sense.

In which you wanted to try your luck with Blade

Sometimes, you’re scared by how much you’re attracted to him.

He’s easy on the eyes, fair skin tagged along with raven black hair, tips fading to red, and red eyes with specks of gold. He’s toned and built, easily able to lift a sword like nothing. Often times you find yourself staring at him, his side profiles more interesting than your blind date in front of him. He always sat behind them, blending in with the crowd, disguise casual but… suspicious.

And often times, you find yourself wondering how soft his lips are. If his hair is as silky as it looks, or body as firm. How scarred his body is, how his hands felt under those bandages and gloves. If he smelt of slight musk or something more ‘elegant.’ If he was capable of being gentle despite the stoic expression he bears.

His interests and disinterests, likes and dislikes, hobbies, fears, what makes him smile –

Your daydreams end before you allow them to begin. He’s shown little interest in you as a person alone – a romantic view of you would be ridiculous. And while you’re an avid reader of romance novels, you’re lucid enough to realize that most of them would happen in real life.

Especially with him, when he’s known for his violence. You’re not sure what else he does, but from nights when returns with bloodied clothing, you can only guess. Maybe you do have bad taste in men.

The expectations would only let you down, and besides, you think he would be a better fit with that coworker of his. She’s lovely, dreamy eyes and soft painted lips, purple hair that’s always stylish along with her clothes – she doesn’t have to try to be elegant. She already is.

Unlike you, who’s still unused to upper-class life, your brother took you in a few years ago. Prior to that, you had lived with your roommate in a dingy little apartment in the shady part of time – your family did not come from money. And yet, somehow, your brother managed to earn enough within a few years.

You push the thoughts of how away.

So here you are now, barely listening to your date – Adam – choosing to look at the attractive man behind him. Your companion sat behind a table, close enough to keep an eye on you and listen in. In the beginning, it annoyed you, being watched like a dog. But now… it gives you an opportunity to look at him. Even when your entire body tells you to look away, you don’t.

It made you feel like a creep, so usually you would zone back into the conversation, scolding yourself mentally. Your companion would not appreciate being stared at like arm candy.

But today… was different.

Today your blind date was interesting, more so than the others. He listened to you, smiled, tone polite, clothes fixed, and hair styled.

He was everything your ‘crush’ was not.

“- and therefore, the theory of – “

You keep zoning out. You listen enough to know what the conversation is, engage whenever needed, kept your shoulders straight. Everything you should do, taught through many stressful nights. “Hm, I see. But have you considered – “

Your eyes trail back to him. Black beanie and trench coat, mask pulled up and shades covering his eyes, they do little to hide his looks. Hell, the ‘mysterious’ factor brings even more attention, girls glancing at him and giggling. But that aura he gives off keeps them at arm’s length. You’re almost grateful for it.

“Oh, that reminds me, are there any books you want? I mean, there’s a bookstore across the street…,” you almost giggle at how cute your date is. It reminds you of when you took care of your brother when he was younger.

“Ah… I’m not sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.”

When he grins so brilliantly, your gut twists in guilt. You wish you could consider him as a potential boyfriend. But instead, the brooding man on his phone behind him already took that place.

‘Theory of Evolution’ was the book Adam presented to you. You took it from his hands, if only to calm the poor boy down, his nervous smile relaxing. You also suggested one for him, and he took it, not bothering to read the title. That was fine. This was out of curtsey.

However, what you were not fine with was your companion stalking you through the rows of bookshelves. From the corner of your eye, you would see him pick one up multiple times, flip through the pages, and either nod his head or scoff. He would then put it back, straightening the entire roll if it were not to his liking. It was cute the first few times.

Until he kept at it for twenty-minutes straight. It was like he couldn’t make his mind up. He would follow behind after a few minutes once you went to a different area. At first, you thought he did so to not attract attention – until you circled around the roll he was in, his face still buried in a book.

You waved, whisper-yelled, flipped him off once – no reaction. Not even a huff. How endearing. It would such a shame if you didn’t use this golden opportunity to finally try something you’ve been meaning to, slipping away like a ghost.

Despite your… ‘crush’ on him, you have always wanted to see if you could manage to disappear from his sight. You’ve tried a few times, only to be immediately caught not even a minute in. He was like a bloodhound.

But…

You have a better chance right now. Why waste it? Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

And, admittedly, the childish and romantic part in you wanted to see what his reaction would be. Pissed that you made his job harder? Jealous or worried you’re with another man alone? Or annoyed that you interrupted his reading time for a game of cat and mouse?

You grab Adam by the shoulder. “Hey, how about we go to a different spot? I saw some food vendors, and even a toy shop. Just to check things out, ya know? We’re both new to the area, right?”

He’s hesitant, at first. “Ah… are you sure? I mean… the toy shop is childish, and we already ate – “

“Please? I’m barely allowed to leave the house alone. I just want to explore.” You give him your best puppy-dog eyes, and he gives him after you whisper one more ‘please.’

“Alright… just make sure to stick close to me.” He offers his arm like a true gentleman, cheeks and ears flushed. Your gut twists in guilt again, but you still take the offer, wrapping your hands around it. “I’m not… used to escorting young women. Not even family members.”

Ah. This works for you.

He’s drawing a line while indirectly telling you he’s not romantically interested.

Good, you weren’t either.

Looking over your shoulder, your companion’s figure gets smaller and smaller the further you walk. He doesn’t react, not even looking in your direction. He flips the page.

Turning your head to the front, you feel all giggly inside. Even if your crush is unrequited, or if he doesn’t care about your well-being at all, it feels nice to slip under his thumb. Just once.

And besides, what’s he going to do? Kill you?

The toy shop is your first stop. Dolls, miniature trains, kites – name it and they’ll probably have it. The highest quality, everything from the actual toys themselves to the shelves polished. Your fingers glide across some of them, not even a speck of dust clinging to the flesh.

“Everything is so detailed…,” your date mumbles, clearly invested in the toys. Eyeballs painted so realistically it scares you, none of the paint chipped, the fur as soft as the real thing – stuffed animals that either look too realistic or the damn cutest thing ever. You might buy one.

“Yes… I’m not too surprised, considering this is one of the highest rating shops in town,” you pick up a stuffed wolf, raven black in color with red eyes. It reminds you of a certain someone, and you almost give into the urge to hug it. You quickly place it back, making sure not a piece of fur out of place.

“Hey… I have a question,” Adam turns around with a worried expression. “That guy at the café… and the bookstore… do you think he’ll show up here to?”

… you’ll make it a point to tell said man to be more careful from now on.

“What man?” titling your head, eyes round and big, you question him. Look as clueless as possible, as innocent. He’s going to get the wrong idea otherwise – or maybe even drag him along if he were to find out the truth. It would ruin the fun, the small independence you currently have – as said before, just a moment of being able to slip away was ideal, wanted. It made you feel like your actions were not constantly being reported.

“The one in the… strange outfit. Black coat? Beanie? And the sunglasses… it just makes him stand out more…” Adam runs a hand through his hair, either annoyed or stressed. Or perhaps both.

“That’s… casual fashion though, is it not?” You’re happy that someone finally agrees with your take on it. It makes him look handsome, yes, but it brought more attention than needed. The only thing keeping people at bay was that brooding aroura of his.

“I… suppose it is, but in the bookstore… he always showed up in the same roll as us. We couldn’t go to a different section without him showing up a few minutes later.”

That fucking bastard… ah, what does it matter?

“Maybe he just has the same tastes as us?”

“Maybe…”

Thirty minutes in and he still hasn’t shown up. Either he’s watching from the shadows or just leaving you to your own devices as he stays behind. The latter wouldn’t make sense, your brother blowing a fuse the first time it happened. But the former is also off the table because he would show himself in some manner, be it by ‘accidentally’ bumping into you, or getting in your direct area of sight.

Neither has happened.

It’s also the third time you hopped around, entering a clothing store this time. It was… decent, compared to the rest. Unusual for you ever since your brother demanded that you dressed better – a notion that gives you a headache. Even so, the quality was still good, just not as flashy or daring as the other clothing stores.

“Do you plan on buying something? Or just looking around?” Adam eyes a jacket, waiting for your answer.

An idea hits you.

One of your friends had asked you for a favor not so long ago… her family stricter than yours despite being in her mid-twenties – rich parents have a hard time letting go. And besides, you know her measurements (something you both shared on a drunken night, giggling like mad women). And besides, her birthday is around the corner… she’s also bragged about her… ‘activates’ with her boyfriend…

Fuck it.

“Yes, actually. But I’m getting it with my own money.”

A sheer babydoll would probably fit her. Pastel oink, maybe? God, this already feels awkward, but a favor is a favor –

“Are you sure?” His attention is back on you, and thankfully he’s not insistent on buying it for you. Maybe it’s because it’s a clothing store, and with clothing stores comes… spice. Not for him nor you.

“It’s a gift.”

“Ah, alright.”

You both go to different sections, and once you get to the women’s section, you’re met with dresses that have slits, coats with puffy sleeves (winter is coming), and much more. You walk deeper in, until you finally reach your destination – the underwear section.

You look at the different options, from a lacy panty and bra set to garter belts attached to underwear. When you finally find the set, you were looking for, you head to the register.

An hour and fifteen minutes.

That’s how long it took for your companion to find you, roughly grabbing you by the arm the moment you leave the store, getting some fresh air and bag in hand.

You bite back the whine of pain from his grip. You just hope it’s not going to bruise. Keeping your mouth shut would be the best choice right now, especially when you notice how tense his body is – fuck, you won’t be surprised if you end up dead tonight.

Either by him or your brother.

“…”

No words were exchanged as he drags you to an empty alleyway, his phone buzzing away in his pocket. It’s probably your brother. You’re definitely dead.

“Where were you?” He doesn’t release your arm, simply turning to face you the moment you step into darkness. His grip doesn’t loosen either, and once more, you’re reminded of why you shouldn’t be interested in him. If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under right now.

“On a date,” you should really watch your tone right now. His shades and mask may hide his expression, but you feel the bloodlust. “Getting to know him, the usual stuff.” You’re shaking in your knees. What are you trying to accomplish here? You already got a reaction out of him – he’s pissed, furious even, most likely thinking of ways to murder you in your sleep. Your mouth seems to disagree.

“The stuff my brother told me to do – “

“He didn’t tell you to sneak away with him. He told you to stay within my sight.” His fingers dig further into your arm. “I’m going to ask again; where were you?” There’s an edge to his voice. Its anger mixed with something else. It’s a really bad time to get your hopes up right now. Make up your mind – are you scared or hopeful?

“First, let go. If he saw us like this, he’ll think I’m a cheating girlfriend or something like that.” He lingers a bit longer before letting go. While you would have welcomed his touch in literally almost any setting, you want your arm unbruised. Sometimes it feels like he wants to hurt you.

“We went to a toy shop across the street, then a street food vendor, and finally, this clothing store. The one you almost broke my arm at.”

“I didn’t ‘almost’ break your arm – “

“I think you’re forgetting just exactly how weak I am compared to you.” You want the ground to swallow you whole. His phone buzzes again, and with a pointed look at you, he answers it. He says some stuff, the usual ‘Yes everything is fine,’ and ‘Alright, I’ll make sure she won’t leave the house for a while.’

Wait.

What?

By the time you reached for his phone, it was already ended. He lets you have it, scoffing when you get the password wrong. You resist the urge to lock him out of it. “… I’m twenty-five.”

“Yes, what about it?”

“And I’m being treated like a child. I didn’t ask for this – “

“You were the one who took his hand. And you also were the one who decided to run off… what’s in the bag?” He tilts his head, gesturing to it. A pink paper bag, the loops made of silk. Oh right. The underwear.

“Underwear. A babydoll set, if you really want to know, tell my brother that if you want to.” You shove it into his arms, any and all fun gone for the day. You should apologize and say goodbye to Adam before you’re dragged away. You turn on your heel, groaning when he asks:

“Were you going to fuck him?”

“No.”

You hear the bag rustle as he pulls it out. “It’s see through, and expensive… if it wasn’t for him, then who?” You don’t answer, walking ahead. You just hope he doesn’t follow you into the store. Otherwise, you’re going to be one killing him.

“No-one. And besides, if I was planning on sleeping with someone, it wouldn’t involve you. As a matter of fact, I feel sorry for you – to think, no-one would show a little bit of skin for you… how sad.” Was it out of spite? Frustration? Eagerness to see his reaction?

You give up on yourself. Whatever is said, is said.

“Like you’re don’t,” you’re not sure of when he got so close, or how his hand encloses itself around your neck, palm pressing against it. His breath hits your ear. “I see the way you look at me.”

“… Do you have nothing better to do with your time? Like, I don’t know, fucking off?” you don’t make a move to push him off, and he doesn’t move away. But his grip is light, extremely so that you could easily get out of it with just a twist of your hand.

You’re usually passive. You don’t get an attitude with him, if anything, you usually tend to be nice to him. Smiles and forced laughs and genuine giggles – but the fact you’re grounded like a child… no.

Maybe it’s because he finally hurt you.

“There’s a hotel nearby if you’re so desperate to wear this thing,” he bounces the bag midair. Where the fuck was this coming from? There’s never been any sexual tension, nor has he expressed or shown any interest in you. And after you just had an argument? On your date?

“I thought you said you don’t date.”

“I don’t,” a single kiss to your nape, “and neither do you.”

Sometimes, you’re scared of how much you’re attracted you are to him.

#hsr blade #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail blade #honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #blade x reader

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summertimemusician · 8 months

Text

Linktober Shadow Day 6

Shadow Beast

The Twilight Princess fan in me really came out on this one huh? I blame the sleep deprivation. We never quite addressed the effects of the Twili Magic on Twilight and how it's only sheer force of will and the fact he's so darn kind, Midna's influence and Time teaching him the Song of Healing first being the main factor in making sure he doesn't fall huh? Even more so than the One Cutscene. We also need to talk more about the fact we technically kill Midna's people and how by the end of it all Twi is so changed by the Twilight Realm who's it's own can of worms that, much like Time he can't quite go home as himself me thinks, as a treat to myself

Mostly Twilight x Reader, this goes out to all of the folks who never quite recovered from Twilight Princess and the fact we never got that sequel (I mean it gave us BOTW and TOTK and Wild, but at what cost?), but can be read as Link x Reader either on the platonic or romantic.

Don't think there's any warning this time but might edit later if needed.

Actually yeah there is one warning

TW:

References to body horror typical to Twilight Princess, though I recommend not reading it I'd you're squeamish period.

Even after so long, you and Twilight could still remember the beauty and solemnity of the Twilight Realm, with it’s zircon skies with clouds of trapped fire and rains of viper obsidian.

The silence of the infection upon the realm of light broken only by the echoes of the howling elegy of the Twili and Interlopers who came before creeping over the land like rot and wither over flowers, the lament of the lost spirits of the people and animals of Hyrule falling over your spirit like a shroud, a shared hymm from two worlds reality had been twisted, only both of it’s princess, one filled the luster of empyreal sorrow in her mind and one with the scorch abyssal fury in her heart knowing to see the reflective tragedy befallen to their people. With Link as the one who restored the memory of what once was in both worlds as divinity and calamity sang in his bones and you a witness to the restoration of harmony to the discordant symphony, the two different songs of light and shadow refusing to let go of either of you in an eternal duet.

(Once touched by magic, it shall never leave the one if holds onto Twilight may have been the one with the Beast in his soul, with the howl of a wolf, the bite of shades in his veins and the lament of innocents taking precedence over anything purely because he learned how to silence the whispers of the one’s who made a grab for heaven’s throat and we’re pushed in the cracks of reality for their prideful vánitas even as he could taste it in the back of his tongue, twining around his ribs and overgrowing into his shattered mirror heart like vines, flowering with the divinity and eternal nature of the Hero’s Spirit, already having the hunt of the Fierce Deity in it’s veins and the remains of cursed divinity welcoming the new aspect merrily so he could bear it. The song of the innocent wrongly punished among the sinners rang into your mind, scratched at your skin and dug it’s claws around your throat, chocking you with sorrow and regret, more willing to leave gouges than to let go of someone’s who’s looked into the reverse side of the sacred realm and wept with grief for it’s people and the curse of it’s beauty.

It would never leave you, Link or Zelda, who learned who love the darkness the way Midna did, madness and unsightly delight and all.)

While the people of Hyrule merely became trapped as observers at best, if they were lucky, Midna’s raging grief and resentment quickly became obvious, once she revealed that rotten Zant had done to her and her people, twisted into a new form, distorted in body and trapped in mind like the animals and beasts of Hyrule, their pain driving them in becoming feral attack hounds for the usurper, their howling screams as much sorrow, wailing in an attempt to let their agonized, tortured souls to escape from it’s mouth, a futile attempt to flee from the strain of reality forgetting their true form in favor of Zant’s twisted design, of being used as sentient canvases for cruelty and ruthlessness, of their will being stepped over in favor of corrupting recreation.

Of how it only didn’t quaff down at Midna’s mind because of the nature of her ephemerality, fully beloved by the Realm of Darkness, of how she loathed him for it and wouldn’t wish her fate of that of her people’s on any living or dead soul, once she came to love the Realm of Light through Zelda’s sacrifice.

Which was why, when you saw three of the victims of the telltale twisting from darkness utilized with the intent to drive one insane, a familiar looking plate of stone engraved on the remains of ashes from their identity, the curling of distorted, solid darkness making crooked mishapen manes, bent out of shape from their too long torso and long, long arms adorned with twitching, deformed claws, you feel very justified in way your blood froze, holding onto Wild’s arms and yanking with all you had so his shot will miss, his yelp of surprise swallowed by the bone cracking, blood curdling screech from one of the beasts as a Skyward Strike grazed it’s petrified flesh.

You feel something warm drip down your ears, taste the promise of violence and the cry of lost souls on the back of your tongue and swallow it down as the memory of the Twilight Realm attempted to bite and crack your ribcage to quaff down your heart, to devour it bones and all, calling out in desperation, “Don’t! That’s a person!”

Sky freezes, as still as a statue, Legend curses the heavens crimson in a way you are so glad Wind isn’t around to hear as he retreats Twilight snarls, the wolf in him revolted and disgusted, you wonder if the Twilight is singing in his mind too as he restrains himself from reaching for the crystal as nails just a tad too sharp invite droplets of blood to one hand, grimm as a graveyard “We need to get them together anyway, felling just one won’t be enough.”

You grimace, releasing Wild, keeping your eye on the Shadow Beasts and another on your group, pointedly not mentioning the twitch in Four, amethyst clouding his gaze and the prism of his eyes turning gray with memories you and Twilight both knew all too well, of the grimace in Time’s otherwise stony countenance, you’d wished to avoid bloodshed of whoever was turned against their will, but you and Twilight both knew that might not be possible, death, unfortunately, might be the greatest mercy you can grant these poor souls.

(The Twilight is harmonizing in your ears, jeering, you feel the Interlopers insanity and the Twili’s lament on your teeth. As lovely as it could be cruel, the merry feeling upon meeting, the sorrow at a parting.

If you ever see the Shadow, you might just try indulging the echo by offering it’s blood as tribute. You'd make it hurt. The fact it learned the spell used to deform reality in such a way was cruel and vile.)

“Legend, how is your magic?” shoots Warriors, analyzing, calculating, it snaps the purple back into Four’s gaze, brings his mind back to focus as he reaches into his inventory for his Moon Pearl, Twilight is circling the beasts with single minded purpose, herding them together and prowling as he would as a wolf, Wild thankfully listened to your warning and had switched from the more destructive Flame and Lightning Arrows to ice ones. It doesn’t contain them for long but it gives a few precious seconds to strategize.

Legend catches on, switching to the Ice Rod on one hand and grasping his own Moon Pearl with the other, Sky has another Skyward Strike ready, but doesn’t release it, you switch from your sword to accepting a Magic Rod tossed at you from Wild, “Good enough.”

You breath in shakily, the symphony of the Twilight Realm has quieted, more lament than anthem as it’s Hero steps back, returning to your side, he nods grimly, “... Then, let’s end this quickly.”

You know your will boys will do their best to heal them, and failing that, you hope that they’ll hear the requiem of the Twili rather than the lament once they’re at peace, that they'll find some form of threnody.

It is a horrible thing, to be forced to die as a beast.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe twilight x reader #We really need to talk more about how the Twilight Realm sticks with Twilight and how it's magic never really leaves him #Heck I also want to know what it was like learning to turn into a wolf on his own. I bet that it was quite the process #friendly reminder that Time Twilight Midna and her people can all shake hands over identity and technical body horror #And how the Twilight Realm also likely has it's form of sentience due to the duality of both people like the Interlopers and the Twili #Something something how the difference between light magic dark magic is more about how willing much each reality changes you #and how Twilight more than anything and anyone who was with him on his journey would embody that fine line #Also the conflict between not wanting to kill the people that remind you of your old friend and the echoes all you have left of her realm #and knowing that their fate is so darn awful that death is a mercy #The reason Reader sees the Twilight as they do is because the dark magic latched onto them via association and Twilight's fondness #Maybe I'll elaborate on that later idk lol #Also the reason Dark Link knows the curse Zant used is both because of his nature and a reference to the TP Manga if you know you know #Hero's Shade mauls Zant in it. It's arguably the best thing in any manga I am begging any people who like Twilight and TP to go read it #summer writes linktober shadow 2023 #summer writes #I could go on an entire essay about the relationship between the Realm of Darkness in each game and the Realm of Light and magic in loz #but I doubt anyone would want to hear about it lol

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rubirenegade · 7 months

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Experimenting with costume designs I might have preffered to the excellent work they did for The Lords In Black :)

(LONG POST WARNING: UNNECESSARY RAMBLINGS AHEAD)

I did find them enjoyable as heck and the performances were damn excellent, just wanted to try to imagine how I might have brought them to the stage to satiate my own desire for THE TERRIFYING LORDS IN BLACK

Clarification: I have zero stage experience so PLEASE, give me comments and ideas of your own to fix potential issues of my design, if this got your imagination going ❤️

Goals:

1. Maybe less comfy outfits, but not overbearing.

2. Closer to the dolls' design

3. Still on a budget: no crazy heavy dragging full suits like Ursula or Pinsir puppeteering.

4. Creep factor increase, meaning: Less visible faces! One of the creepiest traits for the lords is that they have no clear faces, making them uncanny and disturbing, lovecraftian and unreachable. Think the hive controlled people in tgwdlm or the giant spotlight eyes in Black Friday, gazing at you from a paranormal abyss.

5. Keep the things I liked in the originals, especially the acting.

Details:

1. Pokey: Singular Voice, keeper of many faces

having a mask under the mask he is holding will give him a more uncanny phantom-of-the-opera vibes and less visible facial expressions, leaving much to be desired

Also: more masks to cover his jacket, as his voice speak from many mouths.

Other idea: a Jacket made of realistic skins he stiched from faces (a bit much though, probably)

2. Tinky: horns is all you need

Curt's facial expressions are the exception to this "no face" concept. Just too damn good not to leave it as is. Goats horns will do as an addition, simple. Maybe face paint to have dark circles around his eyes, giving him a sleepless maniac vibes, could help- making his crazy eye looks stand out.

3. Wiggly: glowing eyes in the dark

The one I changed the most. I want to really FEEL the Wiggly from Black Friday. I want the glowing eyes in the dark, the creepy tentacles, the lack of a visible mouth under them.

A pair of glowing goggles will do, or two lightweight flashlights on some flashy headgear would do.

The mouth prosthetic might be a bit much, I'll admit. Maybe a mask, Scar-From-Twisted style, could work here just as well (again, this is a relatively short screen tim).

And claw hands and feet, for him to open all his deliciously loud screaming presents :) not critical, but adds dangerous vibes to our Wrath Fuel Frendy-Wend

4. Blinky: Eye think it should work

Big mask. Eye shaped. Done. (Again, Scar-masking could also work, probably even better)

(I assume that if its too hard to sing in the mask, another cast member could sing from backstage)

5. Nibbly: YUM YUM

Probably the hardest for me, it's just so damn good and Kim fucking nailed this. The giant lolipop and cutesie outfit are AMAZING and just easily floor me.

So, I went with simple facepaint to give her a giant mouth. Might not work in practice, but if they gave her a see through blindfold colored in her skin tone it might make her eyes vanish, leaving only the mouth to focus on. Maybe the hat goes town to shade her eyes instead. Anything to bring the mouth to the front and have the eyes disappear (decided now Im gonna painted that next)

Other ideas: blood smeared into a giant smile (might make mouth seem smaller though) or a realisticly painted giant mouth nask (which will make Kim's bite lifeless, so not a fan of it)

Conclusion:

I love these characters and brought my own idea of how to put them forth on screen to keep their lovecraftian horror vibes while keeping it realustic viable for a Starkid production. Hoped you liked it!

SUMMON US ONCE!

SUMMON US TWICE!

YOU GAMBLE IT ON THE ROLE OF THE DICE!

#starkid #nerdy prudes must die #lords in black #the lords in black #wiggog y'wrath #nibblenephim #pokotho #bliklotep #tnoy karaxis #wiggly #hatchetfield #the summoning #the black and white #go nighthawks

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bootleg-parable · 5 months

Text

Factor of Feeling ; A Parable Progression

Shiloh was generous enough to grant themself this moment of silence. Although it was just another out of what felt like thousands, this moment was different. They slipped their cap from their head and tried slicking the messy frays of their hair back into place. The gel was dry again.

It was always so quiet when they returned to the house. Moving between here and the busy environment of the station was enough of a contrast to put a man into shock. Shiloh was no exception. Even Archie had stopped rushing forth to greet the officer in their arrival. There was nothing that was worth anything anymore.

Not since Donatello’s disappearance.

Shiloh could marvel endlessly at the bizarre and undivulged way of his vanishing-act, but no answers came from the stream of questions they might have asked. This was a mysterious case, and one that bugged Officer Pamello to the ends of the Earth. Nobody held enough of a grudge against Donnie to flat out kill him, and if any quarrell of the sort existed, Shiloh hasn’t come across a single thread of evidence yet. As far as they knew, their best friend had simply slipped off the face of the Earth and left no traces to track back to an answer that could have offered solace.

It absolutely broke Shiloh.

They had enough energy to hang their hat by the door and make their way to the living room, where they sat themself for what would probably be the rest of the night. They’d tried day in and day out to stop the grief from getting to their head, so that they might better focus on their job, but this calibre of pain rivalled that of duller extremities, and became too hard to fight. But why? Shiloh did this kind of work for a living. They have seen things that eyes should never fall upon. They have dealt with horrific cases that humankind should never be crazy enough to commit. Why is it that, out of their entire line of work, this was the hardest case to break, but the quickest to break them? It all felt impossible to understand. Donatello could still be out there. He could be hurt. He could have been abducted. Shiloh couldn't do anything about it. They felt so...helpless.

Every possible scenario in Shiloh’s head made their eyes sting until they could hold the dam no longer. They fell in on themselves, slouching over on the couch with their face cupped in their hands. Every tear was absorbed into their gloves. Every sob was muffled in the fabric. In any normal situation, they would have been disgusted; touching their face with these filthy accessories. But right now, nothing mattered. Sorrow was so much stronger than they were. It only took a healthy 5 minutes of ugly sobbing for Donatello’s collie to come creeping out of the shadows, staring upward at Shiloh with round, worried eyes. Shiloh flinched and sat up at the rough-furred figure that moved into their vision, but they were smart enough to recognize Archie with ease.

“Oh– Archie, I’m so sorry,” They apologised, and they scooted over when the hound hopped onto the couch beside them. “I’m probably stressing you the fuck out.”

Archie lowered her head onto Shiloh’s lap, resting her paws out in front of her. She understood better than any other human-being just how hard this loss was to get around. Donatello was her owner. Shiloh knew that they were rather close.

They ran a hand along her back and used the sleeve of their opposite arm to wipe their face. “I promise we’ll find him, okay?” They took off their gloves to cradle Archie’s face properly in their hands.

She licked Shiloh’s nose. They smiled. A little.

“I promise.”

Teller found such joy in looking through all of the different hardcovers along the bookshelf. Each one felt like a different memory to him, and while some might have been more sombre than others, every recollection got a small grin out of him. He set certain books aside on the desk at the end of the shelves so he could sort, clean, and file one section at a time. He wasn’t usually granted many visits to the in-office library in between work hours. Coming back to it was nice and all, but it was filthy. There probably wasn’t an inch of the room that wasn’t coated in an asthma-inducing layer of dust. Teller glanced down at the tail of his coat. Just as he suspected, the very end of it went from a deep brown to an ash-grey. He scowled.

“Well, that’s just dandy.”

He’d definitely need to wash it when this was all over with. A lint roller would have done fine, but Teller would’ve felt dirty without giving it a proper cleaning. User called him “nit-picky” once. He was starting to see it now.

He lifted a book from the shelf and blew on the surface of its cover, revealing brilliant shades of red and gold beneath the horrendous layering of grime. He regretted his previous choice in an instant, because that exact grime flew into the air around him, and he inhaled just about half of it.

“Oh b– ack!– bugger.” He wafted the debris from his face and stepped back, using the cuff of his sleeve to clean his glasses. “You’d think this place was abandoned.”

He opened the book and flipped through the pages, trying to remember what this scripture was about. He could tell a lot of the books by heart, but there were a few of the bunch that needed a look-through to jog his memory. In his scanning over the text, someone’s finger moved tauntingly up the back of his neck, and at first it had startled him, and he yelped before clapping an embarrassed hand over his mouth.

Teller shook his head and laughed in spite of himself. There was no coworker of his that would’ve done that. It made the identity of his visitor so obvious. “Hah hah. You’re very funny, User.” He fixed his glasses back into their correct placement. “You can’t scare me. But I applaud your valiant attempt.”

The suspect behind him leaned over and took a breath before speaking, and with the sound of their movement alone, the elder man could tell that this person was taller than him. His eyebrows knitted together. Strange. User wasn’t taller than him, that was for damn sure. Who on Earth? The voice that came from behind him was low and close, hovered just over his shoulder. Teller shuddered at it.

“Are you scared now?”

There was also no coworker of his that sounded like that. He turned his head quickly, and he froze up in the shadow of something nonhuman with a figure that blended perfectly into the darkness, except for its brighter, yellow details that were enhanced by the lights. It didn’t have any arms. . .or legs. Or a face, for that matter. Teller mouthed the words “what the hell”, but he couldn’t find his voice to say them aloud. That’s when whatever hand that’d grazed him earlier struck him, and the whole of his sight went to nothing but flashes of black and white. He hit the bookshelf behind him and fell to the ground with a flickering and torturous pain that was making quick and easy work of his head. The pounding of his own heart filled his ears alongside a nightmarish ringing. He tried to scream- to call for any kind of help- but the initial shock of seeing that thing completely stripped that ability away from him.

He wondered if User would break his silence to scream if the other really had to.

For now the elder man could only writhe on the ground in one of the most extreme feats of anguish he’d ever experienced. Every conception in his head fell to pieces. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t even move on his own will. Through the blood in his sparkly vision, he could see that mammoth of a monster coming toward him. He couldn’t ask himself how it managed to walk without any legs while still being in contact with the ground. One of its hands extended toward him, and Teller felt himself get dragged- none too gently, mind you- across the floor. That gnawing ache in his head was starting to drive him to numbness. Fear was no longer worth his perception. That scream that he tried to belt earlier escaped him as a meek groan; the first sound that he’s been able to make since this started.

The earth-shaking thud of the bookshelf collapsing from his impact fell on deaf ears as he slipped into a very comfortable blackness.

User’s panic was loud and alive when he ran into that library. Finding Teller in some sort of trouble was a given- even if it was something stupid- but User had prayed that it wouldn’t actually be anything serious.

Seeing his friend in a puddle of blood beside a fallen bookshelf could certainly be labelled as “serious”. The red smear across the tile told User that Teller must have dragged himself away in time before the bookshelf landed on him. It was lucky that only the end of his coat suffered the gravity of the fall. User worked the other out of the trench for now- he could come back and get it when the time was better suited- and hauled him to the room that they were in before. He should have gone looking for help, but if nobody showed up after the walls shook from the shelf, then what was the point? That’d be a waste of time, and time was always of the essence.

The ground will have to do, User thought to himself while he tried putting Teller back down, gently, but with haste.

He knew Teller would despise him for it, but he removed the jacket loaned to him on his arrival and used it in place of a towel to stifle the bleeding. The jacket belonged to Teller, after all, and he knew that blood was a tough stain to scrub out, especially on white fabric. This jacket was probably going in the trash, after this.

Hopefully he won’t mind.

…

Hopefully he lives.

User patted the unbruised side of Teller’s face for any sliver of a reaction. What even happened? What the hell kind of organising was Teller doing for this to be the outcome? User didn’t see a ladder…did he? Maybe Teller fell off of it. But that didn’t explain the shelf coming down with him. The elder man was a mystery that carried more mysteries with him, and all of them were endless.

Please wake up.

This couldn’t be it. It was too soon. It was too sudden.

Tears were burning in his eyes. Crying felt like absolute battery acid. User always hated it. He hated how it felt. He hated how it looked and how it sounded. And all of the reasons that a person might start crying.

He hated it.

But he couldn’t even choke it down. His heart was bigger than his body. He wasn’t as tough as Teller was. Not a single version of Teller ever cried in front of User, not even as they were dying. How did he do it? How was he so effortlessly…himself? User could rack his mind for answers for every eternity that he was stuck in, but he’d probably never find a good one.

What would the next Teller be like if this one died? User didn’t want to lose him so early on. But the jacket was already soaked, and Teller was paler than he was when User found him.

This wasn't working.

…Please wake up.

#the stanley parable #tspud #narratorverse #bootleguser #tsp stanley #tsp narrator #bootlegstoryteller #bootlegentity(:#bootlegentity #bootlegshiloh #writing #writer

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roosterbox · 8 months

Text

October Almost-Drabbles 10/15: Chill and Fog

Pairing: Cherik

Word Count: 958

Additional tags: alternate universe, First Class aged Cherik, the inherent creep factor of walking home alone at night, Cherik is together but they don’t live together yet, gratuitous cuddling, implied future cuddling, I’m back on my fluff bullshit again

Side note: two prompts again. Not quite as long as the last one, but it’s long enough for a cut. Was initially going to be angsty, if you can believe it. However, I can never seem to stop the fluff when I get myself going, lol.

———

Charles shuddered and pulled his coat tighter around him. The path through the park was clear enough, but the fog curling around his ankles and through the trees lent everything an eerie feeling. His way was lit by moonlight, also reflecting off the pond to his right, and he counted his lucky stars that tonight’s moon was full.

In any other circumstances - if it was his sister walking home, for example - he might have suggested a different route. Or just tell her to ask for a ride. But Charles was nothing if not stubborn. The early afternoon had been lovely, a perfect autumn day for a walk. Which he had done. But actions have consequences, and he was reaping them now.

Several times throughout, Charles could have sworn he’d seen a shadow in the mist. The vaguest shape of a man. Or a beast. Perhaps a bit of both. He was no stranger to men who acted in a beastly manner. The cold October breeze whipped through, making him pull his coat tighter once again. It was mostly thick, but a bit threadbare in some places. He didn’t want to admit that Erik had been right when he suggested (demanded, more like) Charles buy a new one, but… Erik had been right. I’ll tell him that as soon as I see him again. Good lord, he’ll be insufferable about it.

Something rustled beside him in the underbrush. He froze. After a few seconds, a dark shape darted out. It stopped to look at him, and he let out a nervous breath he’d been holding. Just a cat. Mostly black, but with a few light patches here and there. It made no sound, but stared at him as if daring him to make the first move. Or any move.

“Pardon me,” Charles said and continued walking, giving the animal a wide berth. It stayed there in the middle of the path, watching him, until he had put a few more yards between them. By the time he looked back again, it was gone. He hoped, wherever the cat was heading, that they would be warm and safe. And that a surprise appearance by a small furry creature would be the most excitement he would see on his trek back home.

He turned out to be right. The journey, about ten minutes long post-cat encounter, was delightfully uneventful. The worst thing about it by far was the breeze, sporadic but biting. His hands felt frozen despite him trying to keep them tucked away whenever he could. So much so that he fumbled with his keys on his doorstep, dropping them twice before he managed to find the building key. After that, he made his way through the lobby and up the stairs to his second level flat.

The minute he opened the door, he was hit by a blast of pleasant warmth. The heaters were running. They had been for a while. Charles hadn’t expected this. Nor did he expect a familiar face to poke out from around the corner.

“Erik?”

A smile. “Hello, old friend.”

Charles scoffed at the endearment. Old was hardly a term he’d have used to describe either of them, but the sentiment was one he shared.

“Hello, love.” He hung up his coat before crossing the distance and planting a kiss on the other man’s (warm! So warm!) lips. Erik frowned, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

“You’re freezing, Charles!”

Charles could only nod, and tuck his face into Erik’s neck. “‘S cold.”

To his credit, Erik didn’t flinch away from the ice cube of a nose rubbing against his skin. Instead, he pulled Charles closer. “Happy to be your personal heater, of course, but maybe next time you’ll let me come pick you up. Or better still, take your own car.”

Charles shook his head slowly. The feeling was coming back to his extremities, bringing with it pinpricks of tingling sensation. “Want an excuse to cuddle,” he mumbled.

Erik chuckled. “No excuse necessary, liebling. I’d just rather you be warm and comfortable when I stop by.”

“Warmer now.”

It was physically impossible for Erik to pull Charles any closer to him, but by G-d he tried. He’d have carved room into his ribcage just so that Charles would have a space to be safe and cared for forever. He always was the dramatic one between them. With that thought in mind he shifted a little, looking at Charles’ flushed face.

“Come on,” he tugged him towards the sofa. “Sit with me. I’ve got the good blankets. And a book I know you love. Maybe even some tea, if you can stand to be out of my arms for a few minutes?”

Charles considered this. Seemed to find it a good and reasonable suggestion. Nodded.

“Alright then. You go get comfortable. I’ll grab the Earl Grey. And we’ll sit and get you all warmed up together, hm?”

His partner hummed his approval, tilting his head back expectantly. Erik rolled his eyes, but felt a bloom of affection in his chest.

“So demanding,” he deadpanned before leaning down and kissing him again. And again. On the third pass, Charles attempted to deepen the kiss, which Erik allowed. For a moment at least, before pulling back, ignoring the other man’s quiet whine at the loss. “You’re a menace, my love. Still a cold one, though. Go on.”

He pushed a pouting Charles in the direction of the living area, towards the ratty old couch that’s needed replacing for months but they could never seem to find the time. As for himself, he made his way to the kitchen. There was a box of tea in there with both of their names on it, after all.

#october drabbles #cherik #my stuff #my fic #writing is hard #moar fluff #lol #these boys love them some cuddles #and tea #lots of tea

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 7 days

Note

Sorry for ruining Ed Gamble for you! Discovering this (awhile back) ruined him for me, too, and I was kind of hoping I was wrong (I'm not a math person...). Not sure why I felt the need to message you (sorry, again!), but after seeing a lot of Ed gushing on here (not from you), and then you were bringing up the podcast from around the right time... Anyhow, I thought I took notes when I first discovered this, apparently didn't, and now am having trouble finding some of the posts...

For anyone reading who'd like context, this ask follows up from this post.

Oh don't apologize, I'd rather know. Also to be honest I think I must have sort of known, as I did see someone bring it up on TV ages ago and they have us some numbers and let us do the math to work it out, and looking it again now I made such a simple subtraction mistake that I'm pretty sure I must have realized in what ballpark this math was going to end up and subconsciously done it wrong on purpose just because I wasn't in the mood to have Ed Gamble ruined for me that afternoon (for the record, when I did the math I thought it meant Ed and his girlfriend would have been 20 and 26 when they met, which I'd consider slightly weird but ethically fine). Though let's say at this point, as a rule, I'd always rather have the people ruined sooner than later. That's my rule for people in real life - I have joked with friends before that we should start saying to people as soon as we meet them "Hey if you'd be willing to fuck a teenager tell me now before we bother becoming friends" - and it's probably a good rule for people I don't know as well.

This ask was followed up by a few more that I won't reply to individually, but they establish an Instagram post that confirms, yep, she was definitely 17 and not 18. And he was definitely 24. Recently turned 24, if that helps. And she was almost 18, if that helps. But she was probably still in the British equivalent of high school at the time, if that makes it worse. Which in my mind it massively does. I've actually had that specific argument before. A close friend I'd known for many years, and was just a few years older than that (27) tried to sleep with a girl on our team who was 17, I was horrified and stopped hanging out with him and told my therapist how upset and betrayed I felt, how I didn't think I could trust myself as a judge of character anymore for having liked a guy like that, was having trouble trusting anyone because apparently even people who seem cool and whom you think you know very well can see teenagers as potential sexual partners, and my therapist told me it's legal and she's almost 18 so I shouldn't make such a big deal out of it. To which I replied she's still in high school, whether she's still in high school or not should be a bigger factor than the specifics of her age, who the fuck can be well out of university and look at a high school kid and think that's a good person to have sex with? This is supposed to be a safe space for high school kids to come learn and grow and get help and not have adults creeping on them. The therapist told me it's still legal because he wasn't legally in a position of power over her so I should stop caring so much, then I went home and felt even more sick and stopped seeing that therapist or any other since then, so it's a good thing I'm absolutely fine and don't need one.

Anyway, as you see from the above paragraph, I am bringing some of my own shit to the way I look at this. Which is very much not your fault for messaging me, or anyone's fault but my own (and, I guess, that guy I used to hang out with). This isn't that situation, I assume Ed Gamble did not meet his future wife in any place that was meant to be a safe space for teenagers. But it is what I'm going to think of if people start splitting hairs around "Well it was technically legal and she was almost 18, vs. yeah but she was still in high school". As far as I'm concerned, from my unfortunately extensive experience (the above situation being one of many you run into if you're in a community of adults who work with teenagers), if you start getting into specifics like that or Googling the age of consent you're already doing something wrong.

To answer your original question, which actually wasn't "Do you have a whole bunch of personal history that will make you get disproportionately upset about adults engaging in perfectly legal activities with consenting teenagers who are over the age of consent so technically it's fine and shouldn't be that big a deal?", it was "Is any mention made in Ed's old radio show that he was dating a teenager at the time?" - no, not that I've heard, though I haven't heard all of it. I said in my other post that I'm into April 2010, I now think it's actually March 2010, it's hard to tell as the episodes didn't come with air dates. But there was a reference in the last episode I heard, episode 37, to Ed having just had his birthday, which is March 10. I thought that would have been before he met his future wife, but according to the Instagram timeline I've been sent, it's actually a few months after he met her. Which does give a creepier context to these clips, one from e36 and one from e37 (warning for a gross and tasteless joke on The Gross and Tasteless Joke Podcast):

See, this is the sort of thing I mean when I say even if I want to go on listening to that podcast without this bothering me, it'll be difficult to find it as funny. The above clip is a really gross and tasteless joke, but I knew I was signing up for that by listening to a podcast dedicated to tasteless jokes, and I can laugh at some pretty crass stuff if I'm pretty sure that everyone involved is genuinely kidding and doesn't think any of that stuff is fine in real life.

If I'd heard those clips a couple of days ago, I'd have found them too gross and tasteless even for me to find particularly funny (I do find most of the podcast funny, that particular joke I wouldn't have), but I'd have thought, yeah, I see where they're coming from. I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer in my teens and had a crush on every single character, then I re-watched it in my mid-20s and found myself Googling the ages of a bunch of actresses to make sure it was still fine to find them attractive, since they were playing high school kids and that felt weird (they were, of course, all in their late 20s or 30s, it was fine). So a few days ago I'd have just taken the above joke as Peacock and Gamble saying, "Hey, we've all be there, sometimes you're not sure and you don't want to risk accidentally creeping on a teenager." Which isn't a horrible thing to say, even though you shouldn't be as crass as they were about saying it while actually addressing the person in question. But now this doesn't even make sense as a joke, if Ed Gamble was saying that shortly after meeting a 17-year-old he thought it was fine to have sex with. How young did the woman on the internet look if Ed thought she might be too young to look at that way, but the 17-year-old is fine?

I specifically said when I started listening to The Gross and Tasteless Joke Podcasts that I won't post bits of them out of context on social media in 2024 and cancel Ed Gamble. But I was joking when I suggested that I'd have the power to cancel Ed Gamble in a blog that's read by four people, so fuck it, all bets are kind of off. Well, some bets are off. It still feels unfair to post horrible 15-year-old podcast clips out of context, so here's some context for it: the whole podcast was based around being very silly and juvenile and exaggeration of gross and childish reactions to things, you shouldn't take anything they said literally. Any fan who interacted with the podcast would have known to expect a reaction like that. The line about the cow was a running joke in that specific podcast episode to try to get that phrase in as much as possible, they were not specifically applying it to that person. All that context would be enough for me to just cringe at that part a bit but think it's otherwise all right in the grand scheme of The Gross and Tasteless Joke Podcast, I'm not going to choose to listen to The Gross and Tasteless Joke Podcast and then complain about a gross and tasteless joke. As long as I'm pretty sure it's actually a joke. Because the premise of the joke doesn't work if one of them would be fine with sleeping with 17-year-olds in real life. What are they even concerned about then?

I've just remembered I've made a post before that said I don't listen to Off Menu due to food podcast aversion, but of the two of them, I'd rather hang out with Ed Gamble and I'd rather have a ticket to James Acaster's stand-up show, and James comes out on top because neither of them want to hang out with me but both would like me to buy tickets to their stand-up shows. That post was meant to be a joke about how James Acaster is a genius comedian who seems like a dick in real life, while I've heard Ed Gamble's latest stand-up show and it sucks (I think I've previously described it in slightly more generous terms as mildly amusing but underwhelming, I'm not feeling as generous now though), but I do greatly enjoy him on (non-food-based) podcasts and panel shows because he comes across as very likeable and fun to listen to when he's just talking unscripted (it helps that I find competitiveness and disproportionate intensity likeable). Somehow, nothing in the ~85-ish episodes I've listened to of The Gross and Tasteless Joke Podcasts (49 episodes of The Ray Peacock Podcast, and now a ways into Peacock and Gamble) has changed that, I find Ed Gamble likeable and fun to listen to even when he's joking about objectively terrible things. As long as I think he's actually joking.

I would like to re-evaluate my previous statement now, and say if I had to hang out with one of them I'd take James Acaster, because being known for yelling at people when you get angry is less bad than sleeping with a teenager. However, I'd like to point out that that sentence is fucking bleak, and maybe everyone in the world is terrible.

Strangely, after all this, I think I am still going to try with this podcast. Mainly because the main driver of it/thing that makes me laugh in it is Ray Peacock, and I don't specifically know of any specific teenagers Ray Peacock has slept with while being an adult, yet. If anyone else knows of any, just give me a few weeks to finish this stupid fucking podcast before you tell me. Also at this point I sort of have the sense of "They're probably all shitty people in real life, so I may as well just listen to the ones I find funniest and try to ignore everything else." We'll see, though. It is possible that I won't be able to get rid of that part of me that listens to Ed Gamble and feels slightly sick now. I think I'll give the Taskmaster podcast NZ recaps a miss, though. Which is a shame as I was looking forward to those, but a lot of the appeal of the Taskmaster podcast depends on Ed Gamble's likeability, and with that being gone as far as I'm concerned, they don't sound like that much fun.

I said recently that I'm completely unable to find Frank Skinner funny anymore after knowing he married a teenager, the crucial difference there is that she was a student where he was a lecturer. That is a case of "it should have been a space space away from people with authority over her creeping on her sexually", that to me is so much worse, and not in the same league as Ed Gamble just meeting someone socially who was a bit too young for him (I don't know how they met, I don't really want to as I already feel like I know too much about Ed Gamble's personal life now, but I assume it wasn't by him being a lecturer at her school). Unlike the Frank Skinner thing, that is something I can probably look past enough to get on with listening to a podcast I otherwise found funny. Probably.

All right, I've dedicated more than enough words to this by now. Too many words. The main point in reply to the original ask was to say don't apologize for ruining Ed Gamble for me, it's not your fault. It's various people's faults - from Ed Gamble's to my own for being particularly sensitive about this issue to all the adult men I've known personally who've creeped on teenage girls and have made me sensitive to the issue - but it's not your fault for sending me a message. To answer your original question, I'll let you know if I'm at any point listening to The Gross and Tasteless Joke Podcast and Ed Gamble turns up and says "Sorry I'm late, I had to pick up my girlfriend from school."

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factorialsotherfandoms · 5 months

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QSMP in XCOM2 once again! Cellbit's orientation day, after he gets the Fed job to go undercover with but a week or so before he starts work! What delights await us, I wonder? (Anyone following my thoughts recently knows) (cat-hybrid!Cellbit, circa 9 years before Felps is rescued and 4-ish before first meeting Roier). Frankly while this one is specifically the au, it could also very easily fit into a slightly more fucked up version of canon.

TW: graphic torture sequence, blood, broken bone, unwanted and unnecessary surgery, declawing

A young woman in a Federation Uniform shows Cellbit through the office. She is the next newest hire, with scarring across her nose and the gills either side of her throat looking irritated from the air conditioning. Cellbit hasn't been given her name, only her rank of Junior, just like he has only been given the names of everyone else here.

He has been given his own desk, however, and allowed a few moments to arrange it - there's no place for sentimentality in the Federation, and even if there were he would not risk his mission. Still, he lays out his pens and his calculator, and lets himself be talked through setting up a login for the computer.

Just as he finishes that, she jolts; he looks, sees her eyes blown wide with fear, and follows them to the approaching Cucurucho.

"I will take over this investigation," the creature says, robotic and blank.

Junior bows and scampers.

Cellbit thinks of other fish-hybrids he has met, of the scars on her face where scales should be, and his ears twitch at the idea of what comes next.

"Follow me."

No matter what he suspects, Cellbit follows.

He's here for a reason, one greater than himself, and what price is his flesh to pay for access to the Federation computers?

---

Cucurucho leads Cellbit to an office, and has him sit. There's a metal tray on the table, and a pair of metal cuffs screwed into the desk. He's not ordered to put his hands in them, however - not yet.

There is also a man there, with a surgical mask on. He does not say anything, just gestures for Cellbit's hands.

Cellbit cannot afford to show doubt or hesitation, not this late in the game - he gives his hands, and barely flinches as each one is stabbed by a needle.

The tingling cold of anesthesia begins creeping from them, much like when his wisdom teeth were pulled. Local anesthetic - and, fuck.

At least he'll be awake for whatever torment the Federation has dreamed up.

(Perhaps, a weak, filthy part of himself thinks, he'd rather be asleep though.)

While the anesthetic spreads, the surgeon pulls out a set of hairpins and a mirror. Cellbit is gestured at and made to watch as his ears - his most obvious hybrid feature - are folded over and pinned into place.

The Federation demands perfection in all its workers, and clearly hybrids are not considered such - Junior, the fish lady, proved that well enough.

Cellbit's ears twitch under the rough touch, just grateful to be left intact; under his shirt his tail twitches too and - fuck, his hands.

His hands, where his claws lie under the skin.

His claws, his claws, an alteration in his very bone structure - local anesthetic in his hands, wrist cuffs, the tray - if they take his claws, will he ever be able to hold a pen again?

He starts to panic, and clamps it down.

Calm, calm, even breaths, do not let them see your fear.

It's worth it, anyway - he can pin his ears each morning and unpin them each night, and having his claws cut from his hands is not so very high a cost at all! To loose his claws - even his hands, if it comes to it...

It's worth it, it's worth it, if he can save Felps.

Not even everyone, everyone else is just an incidental factor beside saving his family - so long as he can save Felps without losing the rest of his people, /any/ cost is worth it.

And so Cellbit memorises how they want him to hide his ears, and lets his hands be clamped into place, and watches impassive as the sensitivity in his hands is tested and a scalpel unwrapped.

It sits there, staring, judgemental for a good five minutes as the anesthetic kicks properly in. The surgeon sits across the desk, waiting, and Cucurucho leers over him, blank smile ever affixed to the bear's terrible face.

And then, the surgeon is satisfied - content that Cellbit's hands will not be able to move, and ruin his work.

There is no more warning than the man picking up the scalpel, and digging it into the skin over Cellbit's leftmost knuckle.

Cellbit looks over the surgeon's head, to meet Cucurucho's eyes.

He feels nothing as the blade digs around his hand, blood dripping onto the table as the surgeon works.

The noise, though - oh God, the noise.

Scraping of metal on bone as it seeks out the joint, ruining the muscle tissue all around. Cellbit doesn't look, doesn't look, not until the surgeon flicks the blade, and there's a crack, and there in his hands rests one of Cellbit's bones.

Even that, however, Cellbit refuses to relent for.

He can feel nothing in his hands, nor his arms, but there's something hollow about it all the same.

The surgeon doesn't even stitch up the wound as he digs the scalpel into the next knuckle.

Cellbit looks back up.

If this be the price he will pay it willingly, pay it fourfold, and pay it thrice. He will watch as his bones are carved from his skin, he will stare Cucurucho in those soulless black eyes and swear his vengeance again and again.

Everything he is, he gives for Felps.

Everything taken, he will take back from them some day.

The scraping continues, and Cellbit dares himself not to look. He remains sat tall, remains sat proud, even as he hears the scratch-scratch-scratch.

Another crack, and another bloody bone is tossed to the side.

It's not until the fourth claw that Cellbit begins to flinch. The blood loss is getting to him, no matter how he tries to stay tall. The numbness creeps up his arms, and he knows it is bad, he knows it is wrong.

He knows that, even if he says something, they'll only be crueler.

For Felps, he reminds himself.

For Felps, who saw good in him when there was no good to see - for Felps, and for his family.

The scalpel is swapped out for another one around the seventh claw. Cellbit's right hand is no tougher than his left, but still a bigger blade is taken to it. The surgeon doesn't flinch, Cucurucho's face remains in its soulless smile, and so Cellbit refuses to be weak once again. He keeps his stance, keeps his posture, keeps his face perfectly schooled even as his hands are ripped apart.

The scalpel slips.

A shockwave of vibration shoots back through Cellbit's bones - his posture crumples as he gasps, the pain finally becoming apparent around his shoulder.

The surgeon glances up.

His lips are hidden, but his eyes are smiling.

And Cellbit... Cellbit cannot, will not let them win - he needs this, he needs this, this is his one chance and his one lead and whatever hell they put him through it /has/ to be worth the cost.

He cannot hiss, he cannot snarl, he can only breathe and bite his tongue and bring his eyes up once more.

Another crack, another claw, another chunk of flesh and another piece of himself ripped away.

They want perfection? Cellbit will give them perfection.

It won't be the perfection they want, but he'll give it to them all the same.

They can take his blood, they can take his bones, they can take his very soul, but he will not let them win.

What's a soul anyway?

He can answer the question in many ways, but his is black with sin, a sticky ichor infecting everything it touches. They want it? Let it destroy them - they've taken the cure, and no matter what he does, he will not let them also touch the balm.

Another claw gone - number eight caused them trouble, and it will be nothing compared to the hell Cellbit will unleash just as soon as Felps is safe.

His vision is blurring now, too much blood on the table, too much damage to his muscles and too much poison in his veins.

He hunches slightly, but keeps the eye contact. He can't stop the snarl, can't stop the venom, not now - but he can refuse to loose.

The ninth claw sheers into two as it is scraped from his hand, one piece pushing itself deeper even as the other is removed.

Cellbit turns his head down to fight the darkness, and watches as the surgeon cuts a line from his wrist to his second finger joint, peeling back skin and tortured muscle as he searches for the missing piece. At the knuckle the cut goes all the way to the bone, and yet Cellbit can barely see it for the blood.

Still he watches, still he stares, counting every crime as the blade digs through his skin in search of that fragment of bone.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually the surgeon finds it, pulling it out with a pair of plastic tweezers. This wound he bothers to stitch; Cellbit can still feel nothing, but his head is fuzzy and his breathing comes in uneven pants.

One more, just one more.

Cellbit cannot raise his head any more, cannot even twist his lips to a snarl. Still, he refuses to close his eyes - still he insists on winning, watching as his last knuckle is cut into, and the tenth claw is removed.

It comes with no fanfare and no announcement, just the wet plop of the bloody bone being dropped into a bottle of fluid - the other nine bones are gathered, various levels of intact, and join it.

Cellbit can barely breathe, can barely see. He hears his heart in his ears, uneven and struggling. He stares at the bloody mess of his hands - still bleeding, still bleeding - until the darkness is too much, until vengeance is not enough to keep him presence, until even the thought of Felps is out of reach.

"Welcome to the Census Bureau"

It's the last thing he hears before the darkness wins, and Cellbit finally, finally passes out.

---

Cellbit wakes up on a bunk, on top of the sheets. There's a ladder down to the ground, leading to the tiny floor space. He has a small sink, a mirror, a chest of drawers. Under the bed is a desk, a bookshelf, and a tiny cupboard.

His hands are wrapped in bandages, already bleeding through.

He moves his hands and finally, finally he gives in and screams.

#qsmp x xcom #qsmp fanfic #qsmp cellbit #qsmp cucurucho #whump #angst #horror #check the tws hard on this one please #my brain tells me its not that graphic and i'm there going 'um yes?'#anyway enjoy!!!#qsmp au

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nitewrighter · 1 year

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okay hi i have a lot of prompts and stuff to suggest bc i am the person that spent all night reading the kids continuity fic

- aedan and rei domesticity they are so cute

- aedan growing stubble, running out of razors, asking the twins for a razor and they flex and say they use hard light razors. then aedan having to ask jack where the razors are because he doesn’t know (this would probably be around the time he asks him about reaper LMAO)

- marti aim training with amelie?

- obv there’s already been a lot of gency but maybe some of them talking about rei and aedan and being nosy

- more genji pleeeeease he’s so cute <\3

Argh I have a really strong Marti idea but I've got a bit of brain burnout and my idea for her doesn't really match what you're describing and also I haven't written Aedan and Rei in what feels like ages and I miss theeemmmm. Also I like the idea of having some kind of... honeymoon post-Dragonback stuff and also Live Mercy Reaction.

-----

The afternoon sunlight was blazing outside, but Aedan could hardly tell with the windows tinted. He was chewing on his thumbnail as he watched a holographic projection of Andrea's cells. The sample wasn't nearly as stable as he'd like, given the fact that it was mixed with his own blood, but Morrison and Reyes's DNA at least made it easy to quickly distinguish the cells before they morphed back to nanites. She was virtually gone from his system at this point, so he knew any creeping feeling of her still in there had to be purely psychosomatic.

He managed to identify and isolate one of Andrea's neutrophils before it was destroyed and scan it quickly enough to create a rough holographic projection, and he rotated the projection in the air, frowning. He heard the whoosh of the lab doors opening behind him and said, without turning around, "Do you think I could get a blood sample from Morrison?"

"Maybe if you sneak up on him," a voice that was clearly not Mercy's spoke up from behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see Rei holding two bento boxes.

"...thought you were your mother," he said blankly and Rei made a crinkly-eyed, pressed-lip smile at him, "Sorry--that was weird, wasn't it?"

"Not that weird," said Rei, setting the boxes down on the desk a safe distance from the monitor's keyboard and pulling up a chair, "It's nice that you finally have more lab privileges."

"You missed a lot in LA!" Aedan spun in his chair slightly to face her, "I mean, Marti and the others definitely trust me more than the old guard, but still, there's been a lot of progress!"

"'People will let you experiment with their blood' progress?" Rei arched an eyebrow.

"Well... no. But I was thinking I might be able to delineate the effects of the SEP serum better and isolate the stabilizing factors of his DNA if I have a sample," Aedan had fallen back to his previous train of thought.

"You've been at this for hours," said Rei, looking at the hologram.

"I just... wish I was able to find out more before my body destroyed all evidence of her," murmured Aedan.

"Well, what do you know so far?" asked Rei, looking at the projection.

"I know she's stable--incredibly stable."

Rei snorted.

"Well not mentally, obviously, but cellularly. I've never seen such seamless transitions between nanite and cell. I mean I thought her nanite secretions weren't as prominent as mine because she wasn't working with a biotic rig, or--you know, because she was kicking my ass, but I think mum managed to really perfect the metabolic processes with her," he made a kind of flailing, spread fingered gesture at the white blood cell hologram with both hands, "Just... specimen."

He felt Rei's hands lightly but firmly close around his shoulders

"Should I be concerned you're gushing about the girl who collapsed your ribcage?" Rei cooed, rubbing her thumbs at the tops of his shoulder blades, "And her perfect, perfect cells?"

The initial touch gave Aedan an involuntary shudder, but he melted into his seat as she worked at the knots at the back of his neck. "A lus na gréine, you have nothing to worry about. She's my sister from another amnio... nister... tank..."

"Okay that is low blood sugar talking." Rei slipped her hands from his shoulders and grabbed one of the bento boxes, plopping it in his lap, "Eat." She grabbed her own chair and bento box and sat down.

"It's just.. a weird relief in a way," he said quietly, still looking at the hologram, "One of the reasons I was made was to help try and find ways to stabilize Reyes. But if anyone's going to save him, it's her."

"Yeeahh it is a weird relief that she's going to save the guy who wants us all dead," Rei agreed, stirring up her own box. Aedan saw green. Some kind of salad?

"...I don't think he wanted you dead," Aedan said.

Rei looked up from her own bento box to him.

"There was a moment back in Urdr when we were shuffling through in those stolen uniforms, you were still a bit drugged up. He looked right at us and I could have sworn he knew it was me, he knew something was off, but he just... let us go."

"Well he must have changed his mind if he's sending Daughter Dearest after us," said Rei, taking a bite.

Aedan scoffed. "He could barely look at me knowing what I was, there's no way he would agree to--" Aedan caught himself and his face dropped, "...there's no way he would agree to Talon making another him."

Rei's chewing slowed. "...so it's messing him up just as much as Jack, probably?"

"Probably," Aedan shrugged.

"Eat," Rei said again, pointing at his bento box with her own chopsticks, and Aedan shuffled his chair slightly away from the holo-monitor closer to her, opened his own box, and started eating across from her. It seemed to be a loose interpretation of a sushi bowl, brown rice and surimi and edamame, with extra greens and a sliced up hardboiled egg on the side, all drizzled with sesame oil and soy sauce and doused with furikake and red pepper flakes.

"Avocado..." Aedan said, "The Californians got to you."

"Don't knock it. You need monounsaturated fats," said Rei.

"I'm not--thank you, for making this," said Aedan. He took a bite and immediately felt the calories hit in the only way they can when you've forgotten to eat for a lot longer than you'd care to admit.

"It's just tossing a bunch of stuff together in the mess hall, it's a lot better equipped than it was when I was a kid, really," Rei held up the bento box, "But I had to bring these from home."

"Back home with the folks, huh?" Aedan perked up in his seat, poking around.

Rei huffed through her nostrils, choosing her words as she chewed. "It's nice... " she said slowly.

Aedan considered leading with 'But..?' to prompt her to say more, but decided humor might be the better route.

"Ah, but you've tasted the freedom of Hollywood," Aedan waved his chopsticks around, "And so the tinseltown dreams have taken roost in your heart. Your soul forever unsatisfied until you're once again in the dazzling spotlight."

Rei snickered. "I was a stunt. And... it was weird. Using all my training to.. pretend to fight--even if it was as my childhood hero. And like, the whole time I had this nagging feeling that even if I could make a career out of it, I'd always feel a hole where the dragon was. And I felt like... everyone back here was throwing themselves into danger while I was licking my wounds and bouncing around in silly costumes. But now I'm back here and... I don't know. We fly everywhere. We go on these missions, but the world feels smaller somehow. It feels like a wall's come back up."

"You're telling me that squatting on a rocket launch facility and traveling pretty much exclusively for missions feels limited compared to having free rein in one of the biggest cities and entertainment capitals of the world?" Aedan smiled.

"Okay, when you put it like that--" Rei cut herself off to chew some more surimi.

"I felt the same way about Oasis," Aedan shrugged, "Even if it is a young city, it's done everything in its power to draw the greatest minds from all over the world. One of the tourism boards wanted to bill it as 'The New House of Wisdom' except that got shot down because it felt a little archaic, potentially orientalist, possibly muscling in on Baghdad's tourism... and also like it might be inviting disaster. But, point stands, you felt special while you were there. Chosen."

"And you miss all your fancy 'son of the minister of genetics' perks," Rei smiled.

"Not nearly as much as I used to, these days," said Aedan, "I might either be going crazy or Jack might be onto something about that 'building character' stuff."

Rei snorted. "Maybe I'm just being weird about moving back into my childhood room."

"Well I should let you know that in your absence I've upgraded the dormitories into quite the bachelor pad. Convinced the twins to put in some hard-light privacy dividers, moved some of the extra beds into storage...the holo-projector was always in there, but I have a couch now!"

"Aedan O'Deorain, are you inviting me to your place?"

"Door's open," said Aedan, shrugging.

Her mouth just quirked off to one side in a smile and they both continued eating, letting that percolate in the air between them.

Rei was scraping up stray edamame beans and bits of furikake from the edges of her bento box when she noticed Aedan had set his empty bento aside and his attention was drifting back to the giant hologram of the neutrophil, his expression hollow and searching. He had pretty much inhaled his food, which was good, but Rei had seen enough of Marti, Samir, and her own mother to know when someone's brain had driven them into a rut that they weren't going to get out of without help.

"You know, if she's already out of your system, it's not like you'll find new data now that you can't find later," said Rei.

"Mm?" Aedan looked back at her.

"You need a break," said Rei.

"But---there's the flow factor," said Aedan.

"Oh, the flow factor," said Rei, rising from her seat.

"And like, yes, this is probably trauma talking, but I want to feel like I came away from that fight with a bit more than memories of a giant hole in my chest."

"Aedan," Rei braced her hands on both of his forearms on the seat's armrests, "We did."

She looked at him expectantly with those big, dark gray eyes, and his own eyes widened. Technically, it had been a mission accomplished. They had set out with the intention of getting the dragon back, and, miraculously, they had gotten it back, even if it was far from the circumstances any of them actually imagined getting it. Surviving an encounter with Talon when none of them were really equipped for that level of combat was nothing to sneeze at, either.

And there was the other thing, Aedan thought, as Rei's mouth closed on his.

Surimi and hard-boiled egg, in general, are not the optimum pre-making-out foods, and Aedan honestly could have used a nap and a shower in either order, but after hours of staring at blood samples and holograms of the woman who had nearly killed him, just the sensation of having Rei on his lips made none of that matter. That itch wasn't gone from the back of his mind, though. He wanted to do more, to claw just a little further ahead in this fight, to find something that would turn the tide. He wanted the fight to be over. He wanted the world to feel open for her--for her to go to LA or Oasis or wherever she wanted, to not have to worry about everyone back here.

She sank into his lap and his arms wrapped around her, letting even those stubborn thoughts melt away, if only for now, if only for a few moments. He hefted her up in his lap and he felt her breath puff out of her nostrils in an amused sound--maybe he was adjusting her to get to a more comfortable position, maybe he wanted to get the point across that he had put some muscle on with Marti's team, but either way she dove into the kiss hungrily. Aedan's arm curled around her more, trailing up her back, as his other hand brushed down her hip.

And then there was the vwoosh of the lab door opening.

"Aedan, I'm going to need to commandeer the holo-projector from you for a minute, one of my colleagues sent---" Mercy glanced up from her tablet to see Rei and Aedan, staring at her, tangled up precariously in one swivel chair.

"...Rei," Mercy said, straightening herself up in the doorway.

"Mom," Rei said, not making any movement to get out of Aedan's arms.

"Eh--" Aedan squeaked, sheet white with ears redder than his hair.

"I can come back later," Mercy said with a terrifying blankness.

"Mom--" Rei started, but Mercy put both hands up as the door whooshed close in front of her once more.

Aedan's heart was pounding in his ears. "She's going to kill me."

"She's not going to kill you," Rei rolled her eyes.

"She's going to kill me," said Aedan, his mind blank with terror.

"Aedan, we're adults, it's fine."

"You didn't tell her!?"

"I was going to tell her," Rei gestured vaguely, "You know... when I figured out how."

---

Genji was at Athena's main monitor browsing through some old Blackwatch files when the door opened behind him. He caught the barest reflection of her silhouette before turning around and brightly greeting her with, "Angela!" before quickly realizing that she was panting hard and her hair was disheveled. "Did you... run across the Watchpoi--?"

"When were you going to tell me?" Mercy's voice was almost a growl.

"Tell you... what--?""

"Our daughter! And the clone! I mean--the boy! Moira-clone-boy!"

"Aedan," Genji said easily.

"They were in the lab... c-canoodling!"

"Canoodling?" Genji repeated.

Mercy huffed out a tense breath, "...kissing," she clarified.

"Oh," said Genji, visibly relaxing.

"Did you know about this?" Mercy briskly closed the distance between them.

"Well... emotions did get a little high in Shirakami-Sanchi, but it wasn't really relevant to the mission debriefing."

Mercy just folded her arms in front of him.

"And... I figured it was Rei's business to tell you."

"Well yes but--" Mercy caught herself, now coming to terms with the fact that she had raced over her out of an outrage that she was far from being able to articulate, and the more she thought on it, the more (frustratingly) her sense of her right to outrage seemed to slip away from her.

"I feel like we've had this discussion before," said Genji.

"We said there was a possibility, that's very different from them making out in the lab."

"Oh no! Not the lab!" Genji said with clear amusement, "No one's ever made out in that lab before!"

Mercy's shoulders slumped and she looked at him sourly.

"I'm sorry---" Genji caught himself, "Obviously, I've had more time to come to terms with this, and I was there when things... started, sort of--"

"What do you mean 'sort of?'"

"Well it's in the debrief that both Rei and Aedan were missing from our campsite when they encountered Andrea. Rei's debrief says she was going back to the pond to try summoning the dragon again, and Aedan's debrief said he had headed away from the camp to relieve himself, but... I'm not ruling out the the possibility that they also could have snuck off together."

"They were sneaking off together under yours and Hanzo's noses!?"

"Honestly with the state Rei was in during that whole trip, it seems pretty unlikely that they were doing that," Genji murmured.

"Genji..." Mercy pressed her knuckles to her forehead, the burn of outrage now simmering down to exhausted frustration.

"Look--don't worry about that. What I'm saying is, when we let her go off to LA, we agreed we would trust her judgment, right?"

"Yes..." Mercy said slowly, lowering her hands.

"And you do like Aedan--I mean, I know it's been hard for you, overcoming everything you know Moira is capable of, but you two really have come a long way since he's joined the team."

"He is a good lab assistant," Mercy conceded, before muttering, "Though clearly he's gotten a bit too comfortable in that lab."

"Plus... it's not like we can really judge on the whole 'falling in love with your rescuer' thing," Genji stroked a knuckle down her jawline.

Mercy's lips were pursed, but a smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth as she glanced off.

"And if it's any consolation, I know he's still terrified of you," said Genji.

Mercy snorted. "It is fun to put the fear of god into him," she mused. She paused, still not meeting his eyes, before sighing and slumping her forehead onto his shoulder. "I'll be fine," she said, her voice reverberating against his cybernetic chestplate, clearly trying to convince herself just as much as him, "It will be fine. I can be calm about this."

"You really ran across the watchpoint, huh?" Genji brought his arms around her and rubbed her back a little.

"...yes," she admitted, and he just chuckled and set his chin on her head.

#I recently watched Legion of Superheroes and Supergirl/Braniac-5 have SUCH Reidan energy #sunshine girl who's a little aggro and awkward genius clone no one trusts--it them...#reidan #gency #follow for more gency kid facts #moiraspawn

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jerek · 2 years

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can't seem to face up to the facts

okay im posting midfic but none of this actually happened it was GOING to happen but it was all written before we got the info we have now. imagine these all as like, different timelines i guess

warning: girl it's andumid anduin is so mentally ill. blood, skin picking, he steals a kiss, a little bit of a creep factor.

-- valdrakken --

The moment they were alone-- for how long, he didn't care-- he set Midha against the wall.

Anduin could see her expression shift. She wasn't holding her daggers, but she'd do something to him. He pressed his knuckles firmly, harmlessly, against her larynx.

But what could he say? It was almost funny-- he half-chuckled before managing something like: "You have no idea how close you came to ruling Stormwind."

"What?"

Midha's voice was barely more than air. Try as he might to keep his tone even, he couldn't help but snap. "Don't act like you don't know," he commanded. "How was I supposed to feel? Should I pretend I don't care?"

Her breath brushed his face. Almost against his will, Anduin entertained the image of Sha-tendrils snaking down his throat, or out through his nose. His eyes, either rolled back or glowing white like the Forsaken.

Still, there was no ache in his bones. Only his chest. His voice dropped to a wheeze: "Say something. You went to all that effort to humiliate me, and you won't even say anything?"

She pushed back. It felt...

It should have felt like rejection. It should have stung: maybe then he'd feel that pain he was supposed to feel, telling him to stop and think. But it was only pressure, and so all he felt was Midha's touch.

And he didn't know what he was doing.

The very moment he'd shoved his mouth into Midha's, the exact instant he tasted copper under his teeth and pomfruit on his tongue, he felt pins and needles all over his skin.

That must have been the well she was drinking from. It must have been what kept her going, though for Anduin, he could almost collapse. He couldn't feel the weight of his body on his legs.

She tried to shove him off again, or so he'd realized a moment later, this time grabbing his neck like a kitten. He retaliated in kind, feeling the thud of her body in his teeth, something vile threatening to hiss out from his mouth.

Even though this did far more for him.

Anduin's pulse resonated once, in all his body, and he tore himself away.

Midha had the same look on her face that he imagined was on his. Then, slowly, the shock faltered and faded back to her usual blank stare.

"Like that was your first," he coughed up-- "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He'd come to by now. He cupped her face, wiping the corner of her lip with one thumb. "I didn't mean to--"

Something stung his cheek. His head turned on reflex, only to be met with a thin line an inch from his eyes... an arrow?

No. A bolt from a crossbow.

His hands unfurled from her shoulders. Suddenly he was clammy. He stepped back, away from the bolt and from Midha, and very slowly turned to see who had fired the warning shot.

And he sighed. A bead of warm blood rolled from the nick she'd left.

"Midha, do you know this woman?" Anduin asked.

The woman interjected: "Do you know this man?"

-- valdrakken, some hours later --

He hadn't allowed the cut from the crossbow to close. Anduin was slipping down an odd slope-- he had been for quite some time. He found he no longer grew faint at the sight of his own blood as he had so many years ago.

There was still a visceral reaction, yes, only it wasn't panic. The blood was as warm as the inside of his own body. As warm as the inside of any human's body... and he couldn't say for any other mortal race, but he liked to imagine they were comparable.

With the cut still open, still bleeding, and when the next few hours were his-- he pressed his thumb against the flow, flattening it into a wide print stamped on his cheek.

The print itself was warm, as if the thumbprint was itself a thumb, remaining where he'd touched a second ago. A coppery note lingered when he breathed in-- it made him alert, lessened the weight of his eyelids on his eyes.

He wasn't slipping, he concluded. He was being carried-- being swept on the scent, like the grace of the Light allowing him to levitate.

If only it weren't his own.

He smudged the blood out like charcoal. And his nail found the scratch again. A tendon in the wrist at his side twitched, his jaw squared fleetingly, every time his playing at that wound strummed too close to a nerve, but it worked and the cut began to weep again.

Blood, he reasoned, was proof of injury. And injury was proof of suffering. Suffering proved that one was... real? Truly in the here and now? Blood was what one signed the dearest of oaths in. It made brothers, made enemies. Rivers of it had carved ravines out between the Alliance and Horde for longer than he'd been alive.

He wanted Midha's blood. He wanted Vyneia's blood. Part of him wanted to bite down on the ghostly Warchief he dreamt of every night, as if she were meat, as if he could partake of her, make her flesh his, and in that way make her real.

But it wasn't hatred that Anduin felt. He wished, more than anything else, that whatever inspired worship could be so thoroughly proven to live and listen. If the Light could bleed, he would bathe in it, and that would be worship.

His face was in his hands. The sharp, metallic smell pooled like fog, steaming the hollow of his skull. Whatever made Midha capable of her feats of strength... she would understand. She wouldn't just paint his face, like he had found his hands carrying out: she would tinge his vision.

His eyelashes were stuck together in clumps. Around his chapped lips, he felt a pulling. It cracked when he moved, and left black flakes. He blinked away some from his eyes.

It wasn't long before Anduin's chest was bare. The only evidence he left would be where his caution failed and his fingers wet the fabric of his coat. Or where his nose caught on the neck of his undershirt-- and then only until they were clean. He wondered: where was Wrathion?

He hadn't known it before, he imagined, but it felt as though he'd always known that Midha kept the worst sides of her adventuring firmly out of her prince's sight. And for what? He'd saved her so many times. It wasn't as though he was innocent, either.

No, nobody in this odd menagerie was innocent at all.

Someone knocked. Anduin's veins were chilled before he even realized what the sound was.

"...Yes?" he asked. Though his voice was small and still, internally he felt a sick humor at the idea that Wrathion himself was knocking.

"Can I come in?" came a smaller, stiller voice.

"I'm not dressed."

Thank the Light he'd had something clever to say.

He remembered reading a historical account of a few Gilnean children, lost in the gray wilderness, who without supervision had completely given themselves over to their worgen curse. They claimed to have murdered Forsaken laborers, easy to catch and still unquestionably evil-- but nobody could verify whether the victims were all undead.

And when one boy was returned to society, and the balancing ritual redone... he was inconsolable.

How, he wondered as that boy might have, could it be he who'd done all this?

"It's nothing I haven't seen," he could make out. And she was right... had she always been this practical? He couldn't trust his memory.

After a silent few seconds, she added, "Unless you're really stark naked. I can come back--"

"No, no, just a moment." He was on his feet, wiping from his face as much wetness and as many clotted scabs as he could in the time it took to slide his chair in and cross the room. His lips and his teeth remained parted around three different sentences, each as ridiculous as the others, and then he was at the door.

Like a child hiding his mischief, he opened the door only two inches wider than she was at the shoulders. "Come in," he said.

Midha was exactly as he'd remembered. She took silent, careful steps, twirling one of those twists of hair in her finger, and turned on him the same candle-light eyes.

"I wanted to say..." she began.

Two seconds of that gaze was more than enough.

"Please tell me you know why I'm like this," he said. He didn't mean to interrupt, but: "I've been on your side of this conversation... how many times, now? Saying I understand, saying I've figured it out-- and this time, I suppose I have, but..."

But now that he had fully crossed over, now that he was fallen and Midha was the one reaching out to offer a path back into the Light, he was blinded.

"Say you know. Even if you don't, make something up."

She blinked at him. She blinked away the white pupils, the ever-present aura that hung like mist. That Midha, uncorrupted, should have been his queen.

"Maybe you're rebalancing yourself?" She clasped her hands behind her back, stretching her arms as if it'd fix all the tension between them. "You don't have to know right now, but that's what I think. Your mind is doing what your body does when you get a fever."

"Fighting off an infection?" he asked. "Maybe-- but the sooner it's over with, the sooner I'll have my people's faith again."

He'd let his guard down, and when his chin dipped, he felt another flare of the Sha's power. There was the faintest smell of burning metal, a numbness on his jaw... she was burning away the stains.

"You represent Stormwind to the rest of the Alliance."

He replied: "And command the Alliances' forces as a whole, if I must."

"How much of Stormwind's government is yours in peace?"

"How much of it must I, personally, sign off on?" Anduin smiled. "My father didn't trust the nobles much. He had good reason, and I try to be as diligent as he was. And whatever's handled by other officials is still within my right to overrule."

"...Is Turalyon gone?"

"Well, he hasn't vanished again-- but then he hasn't declared himself Warchief of Stormwind, either. I consider him an advisor."

"How many kings lose themselves to the title?"

His head grew heavy. A dizzying, leaden pool swelled in his brain, or so it felt, the strange malaise that question burdened him with.

She was leading him, he realized. Guiding him toward either a well-built argument, or full corruption by Despair or Doubt.

"You're trying to make my decisions for me," he said.

"I can't make those decisions."

Anduin's breath stilled as Midha went over the cut. It was like biting into something icy cold-- the Sha spilled under his skin and made it tense and pale. "So it seems," he went on, "neither can I."

Lost in his thoughts again. He barely felt her hand-- but then, she was all he was thinking about.

It was almost impossible not to get pulled in. "It must be indescribable. Keeping the Sha hidden away," he remarked. "Living and breathing for one other person. I have a hard enough time with people I've never met."

Midha dipped her chin. So quick it almost wasn't a nod. "You're right. I always think it'll break me in half."

"And it never does, does it?"

"It never does." The last of the red washed out in what looked like milk. "I do what my mother did-- exploring, except she took the lows and I take the heights."

"Heights of what?" Anduin's arms unconsciously wrapped around his middle-- what lofty purpose was he supposed to see in stretching himself til he unraveled?

The milk turned to vapor, which smelled how she had in the water. Her finger was still a little too close to the cut-- where the angry capillaries made soft and reddish.

He answered himself. "Heights of anything that's given to you. Light, Midha--"

"You swim or you sink. You keep going, or you fall behind."

Her whisper of a voice was insistent in a way that tugged at the ground under his feet. She went on: "I bleed so I don't burst. Live so as not to die. Love..."

Her lips shifted, in some immeasurably small way, toward a smile. "Eventually, everything feels like love."

And what was there to say to that?

"I don't know whether to hate you. Or whether I should pity you, for thinking things like that, or maybe just..."

Anduin sighed. "Join you. In your madness."

"Unless you'd prefer some other madness...?"

He couldn't help his gaze breaking off-- looking down. She had Katrana's tongue. Katrana's way with kings. He wasn't so different now, from his father then.

"No," he said, "if I have to lose my mind, I'd rather lose it to you."

"Good." Midha rolled on the ball of her foot. Anduin himself readied to step back, maybe to catch her close to him-- but she caught him first, her thumbs on the veins of his throat and her lips on his teeth.

He gave an unsteady hum as everything, the walls and his spirit in his body, were shunted forward. His legs knotted, as did the apparition from last summer, the Timeless Isle python that he always expected to kill him.

Don't think too hard now, he asked himself. Anduin looped his arms around Midha. She was so much smaller than him-- his wrists could cross over her back, and his nails clawed into his own forearm.

Her palm was shockingly warm against the back of that hand. Don't, he repeated internally. This is what it's supposed to feel like.

-- stormwind keep --

If it were any railing-- and it could be any railing-- this would be the one.

And now would be the time. Midha was leaning over, almost bent over the wall, staring down at the city below. His hand was on the small of her back, where it tipped up like a duckling's tail.

"You know," he said, walking his fingers up her spine. "Turalyon wants to have spells put in place that would unmask dragons on entry to the city."

Midha's breath halted. Then, slower and somewhat more strained, it started again.

He let his smile show. "Imagine how he'll feel when he can't unmask you."

"Do they think I'm a dragon?"

He chuckled. "I can't imagine they truly believe that. But they'd probably want to check anyway... just to be safe, you know."

"I don't think I'd be much different. If I was."

It was an effort just for her to speak. The Sha couldn't be mastered by anyone, and it was punishing her for trying. True poetic justice, Anduin thought to himself.

"No," he said aloud. "I'd still know you by your human form. I think... mortal minds just work that way, don't you? Maybe if you were a dragon, you'd be able to read my mind a little." His fingers slid back down. "You could see what I was really thinking, right on my face."

She turned her head. He could see it-- the dull, insistent pain she was in, like what he felt when he lied. She asked him, her eyes dull with doubt: "What are you really thinking?"

His smile broke through. In response, he looked to their left-- at a royal guard.

"Excuse me. Could she and I be alone for a moment?"

Beneath the visor, the guard's eyes widened. But he nodded-- "Yes, sir," and left, followed by the other guard posted at the doorway.

His heart skipped. Not in fear, but like a child skipping through a sunlit meadow. This was the dream he had forced to be real, the life he was about to prove himself capable of living.

"This is so much better when I don't have to fight you for it," he said, and tipped her chin up into a kiss.

#dragonflight spoilers #anduin #anduin wrynn #midfic #andumid

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lemonmatronics · 1 month

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How did Spark first see Mecha? You mentioned she saw him and started drawing him a lot, but what was that first seeing him moment?

OHOHOHHHH GOOD STUFF

OKOK so I’ve got two ideas, nothing here is 100% solidified yet but it’ll most likely be one of these two generally

1- Spark sees him out and about in the restoration base and without him even noticing she is captivated. It’s not love from the get go, maybe some “he’s kinda..” feelings there but not LOVE or even a crush.,that’s for later TEEHEHHEHE—

Something about the entire vibe and appearance of this guy just sets something off in her brain and she has to draw him. It’s like that one Family Guy clip, this rusty ass badnik just becomes her muse and he has no idea until she eventually goes to him to get rid of the drawings. She feels like such a creep, a weirdo even. She just wants to confess, get rid of the drawings, and pretend none of this ever happened, but we know what happens next.

In this option this would be the first time Mecha ever meets Spark, if you can call it that (he does not learn her name this way) and would also be the first time Spark talks to Mecha

2- This option is very much different and even has smaller factors in it that could change too, but the general gist is that not long after Mecha and the other Scrapniks arrive Tails and Belle have started giving them the ability to speak on their own. Please IDW let my darlings talk, ah, anyways. Mecha’s one of the first ones and not long after Sonic suggests him going to meet people now that he can talk to them. Maybe picking up some of the teams coffee even

Here’s a part where it can go two ways

A) Mecha does this errand alone

B) Someone goes with him for support

Route A - Mecha ends up at the cafe and very quickly Spark goes from bored to bumbling mess. Like holy shit this massive rusty robot just walked in and he’s ordering like 5 fuckin drinks what the fuck

Mecha leaves thinking that the reason Spark acted so odd was maybe fear, but honestly she’s just fuckin gay

Route B — Mecha goes in with company, Sonic makes the most sense to me so we’ll use him, and again this is where Spark first sees him. She’s still definitely reactive but is a bit more at ease with someone else she recognizes there too. Like okay, giant rusty kinda hot robot just came in, but Sonic is with him so like..must be cool

Despite being a bit more collected Sonic can still see her heavily eyeing Mecha, tho the look on her face doesn’t exactly say afraid

Mecha would still at first assume fear made her act like that, but Sonic pushes that idea away saying he doesn’t think so. He doesn’t say what he thinks it is, in case he may be wrong, but he manages to ease back Mecha’s own assumption

Going this route lets them actually meet before Spark draws him a ton, and not be complete strangers when she confesses for the drawings. Maybe even seeing Mecha come in multiple times after that first one to grab orders for other people

Meaning Spark has to try (and fail) to act normal cause this guy she was just drawing from memory in her sketch book 2 minutes ago is now getting coffee from her

Both options have their appeal to me but I do lean more to 2, but on the chance I go with 1 I wanted to talk about it also

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incensuous · 2 months

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Fam I… *DEEP BREATH*

Ok so I have this friend whom I’ve known for most part of my life. Meaning we were comfortable around e/o families and basically felt like extended families at one point. Now idk if its just me projecting but I had a crush on his older sis, and from a lot of their interactions throughout the years I was convinced he did too. Now here’s what makes me think maybes I’m just not projecting- he didn’t know about my crush and I noticed he acted towards her the same I did, but not to his other sisters?? They did come from a toxic family and I supposed that kids from such home environments learn to stick together as a survival tactic of sorts and to stay sane. Now y’know how teen guys are especially and our friends used to talk about all sorts of stuff related to girls. Idk who it was but someone once shared an (accidental) incest story that was now in hindsight PROBABLY meant as a cautionary tale against looking for premarital sex and especially against using criminal methods. While I forgot about it soon after, this friend was almost obsessed with the story. He even wanted to tell her sister it, but I thought it was really weird and talked him out of it. One more thing, she loved reading but was possessive of her books (ngl I just thought she read dirty books and didn’t wanna be found out lol. I was partially wrong) and he used to “borrow” them without her knowing and read them too bc the forbidden attracts ig? He used to let me read them too sometimes when I wasn’t feeling too guilty about reading her very cool novels without permission. So, at around her 17-ish bday, her friend gifted her a book as a bday present. She wanted to wait till finals were over to really enjoy it, and my friend took his chance knowing he had plenty time. He read it before her and… there was a lot of surprise incest in it. I don’t think her friend had known because nothing of that was mentioned in the book description/summary at the back. It literally came as a shock to the reader. I became a lil concerned when my friend became obsessed with those parts, talking about them and how insane it was that someone would write two siblings doing it. I thought it was crazy too but like I wasn’t as interested or obsessed as him. Honestly, I found his obsession a little creepy.

There were other instances too, like for example once our macho male teacher who all the guys loved told a dramatic story of rescuing a pretty girl, and ended it with girls know intuitively how someone’s looking at them. If you’re staring at them with bad intentions or dirty thoughts, they’ll know (and come on that’s bs… right? Definitely sounds like it. But this idiot, my friend, he gleefully told me the next day that it worked because he’d tried it on his sister. He didn’t tell me what he was thinking of when he’d stared at her from a hidden spot but he said she got a scared look as until she spotted him before angrily asking why he was staring.

Long story short, we’re all adults now, and I think he’s ashamed of how he used to act or the thoughts he used to have. He has a gf he refuses to call a gf but goes on dates with. And she. Is the opposite of his sister. In all aspects, looks, voice, dressing etc. And I don’t wanna think he’s just using her but I do think now that he’s older and thinks all that is unforgivable and is dating someone the complete opposite both as guilt and to show himself that he’s moved on. I hope he has. Especially because the bastard made me interested in incest couples 😭 Lmao the irony. And uhh I wouldn’t ship them how they were back then bc I still think the way he acted was creepy, but now, that he’s gentlemanly to her and tries to be protective without the creep factor, I’m shipping them a lil. Huge tmi I know, but sorry! I saw them yesterday and ig the memories were triggered. Tc!

... HOLY CRAP, NONNIE

OMG

i agree with you, i don't know all the nuances of your friend and his sister when they were kids, idk how close they were. i think even him reading her books without her knowledge or permission would have annoyed me, no matter how small it is in the big picture. i wonder if his sister felt uncomfortable with that, but i'm glad he's grown up and tried to move on. i agree, now that he's matured i'd find the idea of him and his sister cute, especially if he's pined after her his whole life. but unclear with how the sister reacted or if she noticed at all.

thank you for sharing, nonnie!!

#anon #replies #tw: rpf #sorta?

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littlealeta · 4 months

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A Troll in Central Park Review [Spoilers, not that it matters]

I never wanted to rewatch this film seriously. I only rewatched it because Saberspark was watching it and trust me, the commentary that he and the comments do make the video much more fun to get through. I first watched this film at way too old of an age and barely remembered anything of it other than it was completely forgettable.

Story

I could describe the story as so many things. Pointless. Childish. Bizarre. Confusing. Random. It’s like someone wanted to make the most wholesome thing ever, more wholesome than Disney and Animal Crossing combined. If anyone knows me, you know I love wholesome shit. I love Animal Crossing, I love Disney (and many kids films in general), and I love the cozy game genre. But, this film is too wholesome. The entire story centers around a troll with a green thumb who creates pretty flowers and cute animals to anything he touches. He meets two kids (because we gotta have cute kids in a kids movie about ugly trolls because you can’t even bother to make the trolls and backgrounds look appealing) and he shows them all the beauty he can create. He takes them to a utopian land on one of the kids’ boat that he had repaired (with his stupid ass flowers) and enlarged. Then, everything goes to shit. But then they save the day and everything becomes good again.

Actually… too good. Or maybe bad. Imagine the amount of pests and allergies this shit would cause.

I was struggling to figure out what the point of the movie was and why this was even made. From what I heard, the director was going through his Disney phase at the time, so he was trying to make it look as Disney-esque as possible. Which makes sense because there’s quite a few references taken from Disney. From a character crying an ocean of tears to more music drops than I ever remember seeing from a Don Bluth film, to characters we thought were dead turn out to be alive. But, the real issue is THE MOVIE HAS NO COHESIVE PLOT. The first half is a random happy slice of life story, the second half is a generic dark action film. I’d probably say the last half is slightly better than the first just because things get interesting, but even that doesn’t make up for the fact that the film feels like a bunch of different movies still going through their adolescent phases thrown in a blender. Characters solve issues in forced ways, and we get no character development or theme. Stanley, our protagonist, retires for most of the second half while Gus becomes the real protagonist and Stanley has to go through some half-assed growth to save the kids. The film clearly doesn’t know what it wants to be, what it wants its characters to be, or anything.

One good thing I will give the story is that it made me giggle a couple times, not that it matters though if the entire script is ass.

Characters

All the characters are either extremely sweet or the shittiest person in the world. No in-between. Stanley is this pure little troll who’s actually a douchey creep (the movie doesn’t present the latter that way though). He has a green thumb that somehow makes the world more beautiful and better. He becomes friends with these kids and this is where the creepiness factor comes in. He kinda kidnaps them, with no regard for their well-being or their parents. AND he likes kids kissing him! Not to mention, he is so inconsistent. He literally survives drowning in a storm yet he’s afraid of some fucking lightning and leaves his friends off to die. His character development was also rushed too. It made me wonder who was the protagonist supposed to be? Stanley was initially the making all the action happen, but then Gus has to take over because he’s too much of a wuss to save his kidnapped friends.

Rose pretty much exists to be a toddler. She has this weird quirk of kissing things and somehow making everything better. She’s also… surprisingly brave for her age. There are better depictions of toddlers out there. Like Boo from Monsters Inc. or Sunny from Lemony Snicket’s.

Gus is the most unlikeable character I’ve seen in, I don’t remember how long. He’s your typical child with neglectful parents and he takes his anger out on everyone else for no apparent reason. He also is extremely cynical for a young child his age. Every scene he’s in, he’s whining about something, bullying his sister and just being a whole ass.

The villains, which are Gnorgna and her minion I forgot the name of (I don't even know if it's mentioned), are just your average evil-for-the-sake-of-being-evil and comedy minion duo. The former likes babies, especially crying babies for some reason. The latter has a slapstick joke that gets repetitive.

The adults are your average ignorant parents (the nanny is too). They constantly got shit to do and don’t care about their kids because the movie’s gotta have a plot so….

And… I don’t remember anyone else nor care to remember them.

Animation/Voice Acting/Music

Don Bluth is known for some usually beautiful animation. While we do see some of that here including some hilariously exaggerated expressions, the animation is also filled with errors, ugliness and inconsistency. At one point, the kids’ heads literally get cut off as they’re walking off the screen. Some points have the characters talking/laughing/crying and their mouths/bodies aren’t moving. Characters are constantly shrinking and growing. The designs for the kids look cute in some scenes and goofy/monstrous in others while the creatures just look completely disgusting. And the parents look like models of other Don Bluth characters.

And what is with the giant freckles/spots and puffy cheeks on all the characters’ faces? Come on, Don, you can do better than this.

The backgrounds don’t even go well with the tone of the film. Most of the tone is sweet, cute, and light-hearted, yet the backgrounds look dark and drab.

I would say most of the voice acting is decent. I do think Stanley should’ve been given a goofier voice, but every other voice actor looked like they were putting their all into this film. One scene where Gus was crying confused me, it’s like the movie was too lazy to put in sound effects or was trying to have some kind of emotional effect by muting the sounds, but it didn’t work for me.

The music is catchy, and it’s pretty good when listening to it out of context. I don’t really have anything to analyze here since I’m not a music person.

Overall

This is a movie clearly meant to be a babysitter for very very young children (I’m talking like under 6, maybe 8 years old.) Even then, I don’t see how this would be appealing to them in any way besides the cute imagery and the dark scenes might scare them.

I have never seen a more pointless movie since probably The Emoji Movie. No, SCRATCH THAT. Even The Emoji Movie had a point to make. THIS… is just random for the sake of random. Like I don’t know what the writers thought they were getting out of this? To appeal to toddlers?

I know why I initially gave this film a 1 out of 10. I didn’t remember shit about this film other than I remember not caring about anything about it. Rewatching it again with a fresh memory and analysis, there are a few things to praise, but in the end, I’m still giving it 3.3 bells out of 10.

Everything is pointless and boring. I don’t know what Don Bluth was thinking with this, because it feels so unlike him to create a mess like this. At least he recognizes what he’s done. Still, I’m amazed at how much he’s fallen with this film. Say what you want about Thumbelina, but at least I can get what THAT film was going for.

#a troll in central park #review #don bluth #rant

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