#you have no right to speak honestly
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letsplaythermalnuclearwar · 9 months ago
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Homer!Odysseus and Epic!Odysseus would try to kill each other if they ever met
#Homer!Odysseus: you sacrificed your men to save yourself? Detestable coward! How I wish I was never born if it would ensure you had not the#Epic!Odysseus: you’d understand if you *loved your wife.* But I guess a guy who stayed with Circe for a year wouldn’t know that!#H!Odysseus: do not speak of things you know nothing about! I long for my return to sweet Penelope but I have a duty to my men#E!Odysseus: A YEAR. A WHOLE YEAR. I WOULD KILL ANYTHING AND ANYONE TO GET A HOME A YEAR FASTER#H!Odysseus: that was clear when you served Scylla six men like they were cattle!#E!Odysseus: it was them or me! And don’t keep talking about my friends like you did any better. you’ll go home alone too#H!Odysseus: they doomed themselves when they ate Hyperion’s golden cattle. I am not responsible for their suffering. But you could have ens#H!Odysseus: Now Eurylochus’s body lies at the bottom of the sea where there can be no burial and no honour#E!Odysseus: AND I’LL GO HOME TO MY WIFE. MY BEAUTIFUL PERFECT LOVELY LOYAL WIFE WHO’S BEEN WAITING FOR ME FOR TWENTY YEARS.#E!Odysseus: and when I go home and she asks if I came back as fast as I could I’ll be able to answer honestly#H!Odysseus: WE HAD BEEN THROUGH MANY TRIALS. THE MEN NEEDED TO REST#E!Odysseus: FOR A YEAR???? DID THEY NEED TO REST FOR A YEAR??? AND DID THEY NEED THAT REST RIGHT AFTER A MONTH’S LONG REST WITH AEOLUS??? S#H!Odysseus: IF YOU WISHED FOR ITHACA SO DESPERATELY WHY DIDN’T YOU OBEY PALLAS ATHENA AND KILL THE CYCLOPS#E!Odysseus: *drawing sword* I WAS HAVING A ROUGH DAY#Epic the musical#Epic odysseus#The odyssey#odysseus#Homer#Greek mythology#Jorge rivera-herrans#nuclear war speaks
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benevolenterrancy · 8 months ago
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~ Extremely Unwilling Magical Protagonists Attempt To Outrun The Plot And Not Fucking Die ~
(@takofukkatsumi this tag is from a while ago but it hasn't left my brain -- L-Space got very weird all of a sudden)
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thirdwheelravi · 4 months ago
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whats crazy is like. obviously. obviously you cannot go down the road of buck being bi without addressing the entire issue of eddie. because once you are like this is a guy who forms romantic attachments to men you are like ohhhhhhhhh okay. well that makes sense seeing as we have watched him form a romantic attachment to a man for the past 7 seasons. like you cant put that on the table and then just deny the fact that that's what happened. its really crazy that a some people think you can just do that but you cant
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cto10121 · 6 months ago
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Book Fiyero: *immediately recognizes Elphaba and stations himself at the backdoor to prevent her from evading him, stalks her halfway across town to her aerie (even though at that point in time she was only a college friend he hadn’t seen in five years), insists on seeing her again, instinctively goes to comfort her when she first cries, gets sucked into increasingly deep and fraught conversations with her about collateral damage and freedom fighter terrorism, calls her the “most individual, the most separate, the most real” DURING AN ARGUMENT, says he adores Elphaba’s looks IN THAT SAME ARGUMENT, doesn’t understand Elphaba’s “being born with a talent or an inclination for goodness is the aberration” comment because (implied) he sincerely believes Elphaba isn’t evil, changes his mind about the plight of the Animals all by himself but doesn’t mention it to Elphaba because he is afraid she would distance himself from him, buys scarves for both his wife and Elphaba even though only Elphaba likes scarves, is so concerned for Elphaba and her dangerous Lurlinemas Eve mission that he stalks her instead of staying at his club or just leaving town altogether, and is so worried about her that he returns to the aerie just to see her*
Also Book Fiyero: Am I in love with Elphaba?
#😭😭😭😭😭😭#wicked#wicked meta#wicked book#faeyero#fiyeraba#re reading wicked and i am crying#maybe the musical was right all along in making him the scarecrow#jk fiyero’s wicked smart no pun intended#i think he was protecting himself subconsciously from heartache#because he had sarima and the kids#if he got in too deep with elphie…well…#but sarima believing he was a little in love with glinda makes me laugh so hard. so off base#honestly the intensity with which fiyero just latched onto elphaba when he sees her again. real I'M NOT GOING TO LOSE HER AGAIN vibes#it almost makes me wonder#because it’s been five years dude#crope saw her too#but he didn’t stalk her halfway across town just to say hi#and he knew her for much less time than glinda boq crope AND tibbett. they literally had only (1) line of dialogue during the shiz years#don’t get me wrong#typically when you have to ask yourself if you love that person the answer is usually no#but i think in this case actions speak louder than words#no shade to musical fiyero btw he also got the sauce. especially bailey!fiyero oh god#but book fiyero is something else#‘my wife is from nest hardings’ ELPHABA WAS BORN IN NEST HARDINGS#he could have said ‘my girlfriend or friend or cousin’ but nooo it had to be wife#also the fact that he refused to sleep with sarima’s sisters or be unfaithful to sarima because he didn’t want to compromise his power#but then sleeps with elphaba when she sheds (1) tear#i’ll shut up now
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shima-draws · 9 hours ago
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"If I wanted to watch HTTYD shot for shot then I'd watch the original" then don't. Watch the live action? What do you want me to say?? Everybody complains when a live action is too different from the original, now y'all are complaining that it's too similar? Idk about you all but I much prefer a live action that's faithful to the original instead of wildly veering off course to the point where it muddies the message of the original film (sideeyes Lilo & Stitch). I guess there's no way to make everyone happy with these huh
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cloudinal · 2 months ago
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Happy Fret Day (and Happy Easter)!
#twewy#neo twewy#the world ends with you#neo the world ends with you#fret twewy#fret furesawa#my art#i really like fret! i think his struggles with his identity (regarding how he tends to act upbeat) are pretty interesting#especially with how they relate to his psyche#honestly as much as i find remind interesting narratively/thematically i did not enjoy it as part of the gameplay#there was this one remind section i was stuck on for twenty minutes?#i got better as i progressed but man. it was definitely the hardest to use#i've been thinking a lot about fret lately in relation to sora since i've been playing through kh#they both act cheerful and heroic to befriend/reassure people and consequently lose sight of who they are#it's actually so important to me that they meet and speak to each other at some point...#i struggled quite a bit with coming up with concepts for this drawing (similar to shoka)#when i have difficulty coming up with ideas for these drawings#i can overthink and start going down rabbit holes trying to find some semblance of an idea#that happened a little bit with this one haha#at one point i tried to think simpler. about how fret is fun-loving#then i remembered those target happy birthday glasses#and things started to come together!#you can't see it because it's so small but each candle is detailed to look like someone close to fret#rindo. kanon. shoka. nagi. beat. neku. from left to right (albeit beat and neku are covered by his hand)#drawing the glasses was a lot of fun! i think he looks good with them
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horror-aesthete · 1 year ago
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Twin Peaks, 1990, dir. Tina Rathborne
SE01E04 Rest in Pain
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thegreatcaptainusopp · 1 year ago
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Water 7 was like specifically engineered to hit on every single sensitive spot Usopp has and honestly he almost under-reacted with how nuts the circumstances were for the moment that he snapped:
1. They just came off a fight where Aokiji knocked them around like it was nothing, where he had this realization:
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So he’s going in already feeling super inadequate, more than he usually does (which is a lot already).
2. Relatedly, up to this point fixing the Merry was his job because they didn’t have a shipwright yet. Her being unfixable probably felt, to him, like a personal failing because he was the one in charge of fixing her
3. The Merry was most like another crew member to him because he’s the one who worked on her most, AND he was the only one who saw her klabautermann at this point
4. The big elephant in the room here is that Kaya was the one who gave them Merry. So, you know, he’s attached to her most for this reason too
5. There’s also the fact that this probably hit on the very specific trauma of his mother’s death, because she also got sick enough that everyone deemed her unsavable.
6. On top of all that, it also hit on his trauma regarding his dad and abandonment: he doesn’t want to repeat that and feel like he abandoned a crew member who needed him.
7. Speaking of abandonment, seeing a situation where, in his mind, the crew leaves someone behind who is now deemed useless probably touched on a lot of his own fears about his place on his crew and own perceived usefulness
8. He had also just been brutally beaten twice on the same day and is pretty badly injured, compounding both feelings of usefulness and aligning him with the merry in his mind in terms of physical state.
9. He had also just lost the money they needed to fix the Merry, again compounding the feeling that he was useless AND he was responsible for the Merry not being fixable
10. He woke up to the crew, who had already processed the news, telling him about it AND that a decision had been made, which made him feel like it was a him vs them thing
There’s probably more I think but yes, it is completely unsurprising that he fell apart so spectacularly
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benevolenterrancy · 7 months ago
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@fluffypurpleglitterdemon hey. hey. i just want to talk.
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djevelbl · 6 months ago
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Ace Attorney crossover where, in very typical Phoenix Wright fashion, he's neglected to find out WHO IN HELL his newest client is until he's sitting right across from him at the detention center's visitation room, and he's forced to confront the fact that he's going to bat for a murderous clown who IS innocent this time around
Aka: Ace Attorney crossover, but ClownPierce is his client--
#yea so im cooking chat#can you SEE the vision#phoenix panicking bc clowns assassin status is a secret told with OPEN doors — everyone knows it but nobody can prove it#clown being the most respectful client phoenix has ever had and somehow STILL the most deranged#something something clownzy at some point bc these bad bitches cant be kept appart from each other#uhhhhhh the real killer isssss oh man idk. fuckin. uh#what would be the funniest option???#reddoons? ashswag?? minutetech maybe??? idk man I've not watched lifesteal enough to know the dynamics#in my head the real killer is branzy who gets away with it and only did it bc he was trying to court clown with that#(bc OFC he would)#and takes them all out on a dinner as an apology#maya is all in for whatever the fuck is this weird shit going on#she's having the time of her life#maya is like. using clown as a climbing gym and speaking to him and doing her weird medium tricks with him#he's probably teaching her how to use a knife and how to disarm a man thrice her size in 20 different ways#the only reason phoenie isn't stopping him is bc he's still kinda traumatized from the whole matt engarde debacle#i think the only infinitely funnier option to this is if BRANZY is the defendant#mostly bc clown bursting into the court waiting room to chastise branzy and make sure hes okay and be menacingly standing in a corner is-#-my personal peak comedy honestly#also just bc phoenix would get constant peeks at the bloodthirsty creature living in his veins...#also is it peek? peak? peek right???#fuck english#just.#imagine it#phoenix being mildly terrified of what everyone considers is a wet poodle lost in ikea#anyway#demon rambles™#ace attorney#ace attorney phoenix wright#clownpierce
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cloudbends · 3 months ago
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I LOVE YOU SO MUCH WONDERFUL PRECURE
#GAOU WAS SUBARU THE WHOLE TIME..... what a genuinely crazy twist but so fitting... what the hell. god.#zakuro's development was so sweet... “i just cant hate you”..... wanting save subaru awugh.#the whole scene at the mirror stone was honestly heartbreaking for subaru. a lot of it thanks to his terrific voice acting (unbiased)#but it was so sad.... he just wants gaou back..... him genuinely impaling himself with the shard. christ. CHRIST#i let out an audible “holy shit”.#“kindness leads you nowhere” GOD. AWUH#the genuine anguish. he truly is kind#NOT KOMUGI NO NO NO FUCK FUCK NOOOOOOOO#and then him reacting the same way..... realizing hes done the same thing that was done to him ..... was so fucking devastating#i find that genuinely so compelling... I DIDNT EXPECT SUCH A COMPELLING AND TRAGIC ANTAGONIST...... OH MY GOD.#its such a refreshing take to me that they genuinely are. so relentless in the love and care they want to share. youd expect the narrative#to go the route of “the moment you chose vengence you are unforgivable” but its never the case in this series.#forgiveness is always an option because they recognize that this vengence comes from intense pain and anguish.... and they cant bear#to see someone suffering. it made me genuinely so fucking emotional#all of it stemming from self blame and survivors guilt too i just. augwhauwhw....#komugiiii KOMUGIIIIII..... TALKING TO SUBARU..... “YOU JUST WANT TO TALK TO GAOU AGAIN RIGHT....” ARGHHH#“i feel warm” when hes purified. im sick. oh my god.#and of course. SATORU AND DAIFUKUUUUUUU#I LOVE THEIR PRECURE OUTFITS I WISH WE'D HAVE SEEN A BIT MORE OF THEM....... THEY'RE SO GOOD#YUICHI NAKAMURA DAIFUKU THEY DID THAT FOR ME SPECIFICALLY#ALL OF THEM SAUING GOODBYE......#when subaru reached oht and started fading i really did get so close to crying in ngl.... the joint hug ..... was so so good... awuhh#the catharsis was so beautiful#i genuinely also love how the plot is so integrated into the worldbuilding.... subaru and gaou's bond being what brought the#foundation of animal town... is genuinely such beautiful closure#the epilogue.... them not speaking anymore and how its like losing their beat friends but also not.... they miss them even when theyre there#the way they addressed it was so beautiful.....#i got so emotional when they got their voices back ok.... AND THE ED PLAYING...... I LOVE YOU SO MUCH WONDERFUL PRECURE#im so . what a genuinely spectacular show. awyahwuw#wonderful lb
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evermoredeluxe · 1 year ago
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reapersmarch · 4 months ago
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(canon-typical suicidal thoughts, dissociation, and mentions of self harm, so be forewarned)
Forty-nine.
That’s the exact number of ceiling tiles in this room.
You hate that it isn’t an even fifty, or even a lesser forty-five. Granted, you suppose you could round up. There are several half-tiles where roof meets wall that, if put together, would total up to an additional tile to make it a cool fifty. But you also hate that they’re popcorn, and there’s no half-cocked fix for that. You didn’t think popcorn ceilings were still in, and, honestly, it’s a little insulting that they’d put you in a room with such outdated, ugly decor. Even the paint looks kind of grungy for a building that’s supposedly state of the art—a garish, red gash lines the pale white of the walls, and it reminds you too much of blood, making you more than a little queasy. Maybe their budget isn’t as high as you thought it was.
Orrrr… more likely, they put you in a room out of the way so nobody knows you’re there.
Nobody else. Just about everyone relevant to your life knows you’re here.
Of course, none of the interior decorating is remotely important in any conceivable way, you just aren’t interested in facing the reality in front of you currently. If you don’t acknowledge it, then you never have to deal with it. If you don’t have to deal with it, then it hasn’t happened. If it hasn’t happened, then you’re fine.
You know this isn’t how that works, but you can pretend.
Sort of.
It’s kind of difficult to ignore the shattered state of both your legs, or the peekaboo of hideous orange circuitry that taints your skin, or the way Ricardo is sitting in a mirror of your positions not that long ago—only, this time, it’s him with his arms folded on the edge of your hospital bed, head rested over top of his forearm.
You don’t know how long he’s been there—a while, you’re sure. The better question is probably how long you’ve been out, but you don’t want to know the answer to that, either.
Hesitantly, reflexively, your hand moves of its own accord towards his hair. It stops just before you connect, fingers folding in on themselves as you settle it on the bed next to him instead. You’re not sure if this is even allowed. Are you allowed to reach for him like this, so familiar as you once were? Does he even want your comfort? Do you even know each other anymore?
He thought you were related to Hollow Ground; you thought he knew you were Entropy.
Evidently, there is much you don’t know about either of you.
But you love him anyway. You love him so much, it hurts, and you are so goddamn sorry for the spiral you’ve caused because of it. You’re sorry for worrying him, sorry for lying to him, sorry for letting it get too big to handle on your own. You thought you could. You planned so meticulously, calculated every statistic, accounted for all the little possibilities you might not have even thought of. But you never factored in Ricardo because… why would you have?
He was always in your blindspot.
The gentle nudging of fingers beneath your clenched fist catches your attention and you recoil, quickly drawing your hand back. Your eyes glance briefly in his direction before darting elsewhere, anywhere, up. Back up at the ceiling.
“Bel.”
You flinch when your name is called. You aren’t entirely sure why, but you could hazard a guess. For one, you hadn’t actually expected to live through that, so you thought you’d never hear it again; names are hardly relevant to a corpse. And two, had you survived, you fully expected him to wield it like a knife. He has every right to be angry with you—you lied. You betrayed his trust. You let him get close to you, fall in love with you, lose you, regret losing you, hang on tighter than he ever has before. You lost sight of the end goal. Got wrapped up in petty little feelings that should be of no use to you. You should know better than that!
So, you braced yourself for the dagger’s tip, waiting for it to slide between the third and fourth rib and rend you asunder already.
But it never came.
You were so ready for an attack that was never even a passing thought to him, that you hadn’t considered the alternative. No, you can’t read his mind, but you can hear it anyway. When he calls your name, it isn’t sharp and targeted, like you’d so hoped it would be. He says—“Bel, hey. Look at me.”—and it’s soft, delicate. Fragile. It’s tinged with relief and fear and elation and grief. You hear his voice catch, hear him clear it, and try again, a little more urgently this time.
“Please.”
You still aren’t sure you’ve survived. Forgiveness shouldn’t come this easily.
You mindlessly scratch and pick at the thinnest line on your upper arm as if it’s a scab that can be pulled away and made to bleed, then make yourself slide your gaze over to him. He looks exhausted, but his shoulders immediately sag, all the tension momentarily leaving his body at the sight of you. You think you hear a soft, thank fucking god, and it almost makes you want to chuckle.
But, that’s about as far as either of you gets before you both settle into the world’s most uncomfortable staring contest.
What the hell are you supposed to say in a situation like this—actually admit that you’re sorry? Christ, like an apology is going to just… make all of this go away? It isn’t as though they taught you how to handle a crisis of this caliber back at the Farm, and all your time spent on your own could not have prepared you for the emotional fallout of all your idiotic decisions.
The explosion of pain any time you move wrong or too suddenly—it makes you want to fucking black out again, but that you know how to handle. It’s another cruel reminder that you’re still alive, and, while you are in unbearable amounts of it, it’s nothing you haven’t endured before. You’ll either survive, or kill yourself before the Special Directive can reclaim its property; of this, you can be certain.
And, really, what the hell would you even apologize for, anyway? ‘Sorry for all the crime, it will happen again’? Or maybe, sorry for lying to you? Sorry it had to be this way, or any of the other hundreds of regrets you burden yourself with? You might be the sorriest bastard in Los Diablos, but that’s not about to change anything, and saying it aloud will make you look like a jackass.
Yet, “Sorry,” is what flies out of your mouth in a short, half-gasped, pathetic sounding voice you don’t recognize.
You look like a jackass.
“Why didn’t you say anything, Bel?”
You don’t know what he’s referring to. Any of it. All of it. His eyes settle on your twitching fingers, scraping and scraping and scraping at the thin orange line with your nail. Ah, that first.
Even still, there’s no accusation in his tone, though there really ought to be, and when you spare him a set of eyes, you feel the impact of his love for you hit you squarely in the chest. Why? Why, why, why, why? Why won’t he just hate you? Why won’t he just condemn you for every ounce of betrayal? Why won’t he just make this easy? Hate your guts and leave you alone already so you can sever the last ties you have that make this so fucking difficult? You want to shout, just swing the fucking axe and take my head off. My neck’s finally on the block.
But he looks at you, and there’s nothing accusatory. No venomous hatred. No vitriolic ire. Not even bitter disappointment. Just the tired, melancholic eyes of a man who almost lost you again, and a plea for you to be honest. To let him in. Let him help you. Let him pry open your rib cage and nestle in between meat and marrow, as though he doesn’t currently occupy that space as it is. 
Please just fucking hate me. Please. Please. Please. 
You are buckling under the weight of how much he cares.
“What was I supposed to say, Ricardo? That I’m a re-gene?” you ask flatly. He winces, remorse evident in his body language. Every disparaging comment, every absentmindedly spoken sneer, it all comes rushing back to both of you—him, mostly. You could never forget. Which is why the fact that you’re sitting here, face to face, stewing in how much you love him still, despite is almost an affront to everything you stand for.
You should’ve stood your ground from the jump, insisted that this would not and could not happen. You should have been a better tool.
Tools are there to be used. They know their purpose, and even if they don’t, they don’t care what they’re used for.
People are messy, burdensome creations. They care too much, think too much, feel too much. Is that what you wanted? To feel? Well, congratulations. You felt. Was it worth it?
“But you’re—” he starts.
“Don’t—”
“—will you let me—”
“ —don’t you fucking dare.” 
“—finish!”
You grit your teeth, eyes squeezing shut.
“Don’t call me human, Ricardo.” You spit it at him like it leaves a vile taste in your mouth. “Humans have rights. I’m just a thing.”
You were out of your depth. This was always how it was going to end.
“I wasn’t going to—” You watch him scrub both palms over his face, then slouch back in his chair, eyes still beleaguered and settled on you. He’s navigating a minefield and you both know it. “I’m not about to—ah, fuck, Bel.”
You scoff out a small, sardonic laugh. “Sounds about right, yeah.”
He watches helplessly for a long, dreadful moment, gaze fixed on you. It’s like being the target of a sudden, focused heat, but you’re too busy looking at your fidgeting fingers. You don’t want to see it, what he really thinks of you.
“Okay,” he says, finally, tossing his hands up in resignation before slapping them back down on his thighs. You flinch at the sound, but it demands your attention. “Okay, we’ll do it your way, then. You aren’t human—your words. So what are you, then?”
You stare at him blankly. He cannot be serious. 
“If you’re not human, what are you?” he challenges again. “‘Cause you look and sound human to me.”
You’re not. You’re not. You aren’t.
“I’m not—”
“A person?” he fills in. “So then what is it?”
Clenching your jaw that hard is giving you a migraine on top of everything else that’s going completely and utterly left. You don’t know where he’s going with this, what stupid point he’s trying to make. You don’t know, but you’re starting to think whoever painted this room didn’t have much of a creative vision, and the anticipation is making you want to add your own splatter of red to jazz up the place.
“Do you want me to tell you?” Ricardo asks, leaning forward, elbows rested on his knees. It forces you to lean backwards, away from him. You’re within kissing distance at this point, less than a few centimeters apart, and it infuriates you that that is the prominent thought in your mind at this very moment. Regardless, he doesn’t wait for an answer. He wasn’t looking for one; the question was rhetorical: “You’re you, Bel.”
Well, no shit.
“And I was an asshole.”
Okay…?
“You could have two heads and four arms for all I care, and I’d still love you because… you’re you.”
You think you’re going to vomit.
“So, I’m sorry for being an asshole, but I was right that one time; you deserved so much better than what I could give you. So, forget that. Forget all of that, none of it is true, all right?” Ricardo smiles crookedly, morosely, and you don’t know when your hands started shaking or when he took hold of them, but he lifts your left one to press a kiss to your pulse point. “I love you. I love you.”
The sound that escapes you is completely foreign to your ears—a deep, full-bodied, broken sob that forces you to double over and press your palms to your eyes, as though that might stop the tide spilling through your fingertips; it’s like someone took a sledgehammer to a fire hydrant. You’re bawling so hard, you might really throw up if you don’t settle down, but you’re not wholly in control of yourself. It feels surreal, as though you’re experiencing it from above and within at the same time, both the watcher and the watched, floating further and further away into the outer reaches of space.
This entire situation is completely and utterly fucked. You are in excruciating pain, you’ve never been more hopeless in your life, everything you’ve worked towards is compromised, you’re trapped here, you’re going to die, and Ricardo Ortega still loves you, unrepentantly.
Every time you think of speaking, you can’t find your voice. It isn’t yours. This isn’t you it’s happening to, you’re watching it happen to your vessel. The machine, the ship. Simultaneously, you’re in the thick of it, the pilot behind the controls, feeling as though the tapestry of your life is unraveling before your eyes, stretching across the accretion disk of the black hole. What do you mean he, too, loves you still, despite? How is that possible? After all you’ve done? Who you are? Not human. You’re not. Mars bids you return. Return, return, they’ll come to collect soon.
Then his arms envelop you as tightly as they can without hurting you, calling you back, waiting for you to return safely with your feet on solid ground. Anchored. Secured. Mission control waits for your re-entry. They want you to come home.
Okay.
Are you certain you survived?
You didn’t just… make up a scenario in your head to make yourself feel better? Go figure that, if you are dead, you still find a way to make yourself miserable. Your face finds the curve of his neck. Warm. Familiar. Probably not dead. Even if you were, you think he would still feel the same—warm and familiar. Safe.
Home.
Eventually, you calm enough that you aren’t heaving, so Ricardo moves to sit beside you, letting you lean up against his side instead of making you twist towards him, arms still locked around you, thumb sweeping back and forth against your shoulder.
“You need to get me out of here, Ricardo.” Your voice is hoarse, and still thick with tears, but you’ve found it again and it’s as calm as you can make it, so that’s a start. “I can’t stay here. I can’t, I cannot.”
You half-expect him to interrogate you, now that the worst of the storm has passed, but instead you feel his chest rise with a deep inhale, then fall with a sigh. It’s not directed at you, you don’t think. You’re almost positive he’s just lost in thought, but you can’t be sure and you can’t read his mind. Right now, you really hate that more than ever.
“I’m as good as dead if I stay,” you plead. “We all are. They’ll finish what the truck couldn’t, and then some. I can’t go back there, Ric. I won’t survive it this time.”
“Go back where?”
“The Farm.”
It all comes tumbling out at that point, your voice laced with fatigue. The Special Directive. What happened after Heartbreak. Where they took you—what they did to you.
“Drugs muddle the mind,” you state bitterly. “They needed me at optimal performance to see just how far they could push. They always pulled back just before they broke something. I was too valuable an asset to lose. Do you know what that’s like? Being awake and aware and unable to do a thing about it? No one cares when you’re not a person in the eyes of the law. I think they did, you know. Break me.”
Ricardo, to his credit, stays silent while you speak, listening intently to every word and periodically reminding you that you’re still here, grounded, and he’s still there with you. Squeezing your shoulder, waiting for you to continue, to land. You wish you could hear it, what he’s thinking. Maybe it’s better you can’t.
“Sometimes, y—” Your fingers dig into his shirt as you tense, clutching at the soft cotton tightly, and his hand finds yours, covering it where it’s tangled. Your grip slackens some, but stays wound up in his shirt. “Sometimes, you feel like them. On good days, it’s kind of nice. I don’t have to think so hard, try to keep the door shut to force out the noise. I can relax, because it’s just you. It’s just Ricardo, I’m okay, I can be myself. And… I know it’s not your fault, I know. But I can’t read you, and on bad days, you feel like them. The coats. You feel just like them, and it scares me.”
The silence settles heavily between you, and you’re starting to wonder if he’s regretting his decision to stay, but you feel it then. The slightest tremor in his hand. His fingers curl around yours and squeeze, gently, firmly.
“Bel, I’m sorry,” he says, and you aren’t wholly sure why. At first you think it’s pity, and it sours your stomach. You don’t want him to pity you, you don’t ever want pity from anybody, but you are trying so hard to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all that, all this, he’s stayed beside you and hasn’t looked at you any differently. Why would now be the turning point? “I wish I’d known, I—fuck!” 
You lift your head quizzically, watching him drag a hand down his mouth and over his beard. You watch it trail down his throat, watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“I understand,” he says after a beat, “why you didn’t say anything. Why you never felt like you could say anything. Why you always kept pushing when I got too close. I was the nearest reminder, and I was a fucking idiot, and I’m sorry. For my part in it, I am… incredibly sorry.”
The remorse is genuine. You know Ricardo well enough at this point to know when he’s giving lip service, and you know that he isn’t—whatever he's thinking or feeling, it’s genuine. In fact, he looks a little ill himself. You wonder if he’s turning it all over in his head, replaying the things he’s said in passing, the moments when you were more prickly than normal, more combative about your personal space.
Every time he startled you, or you got a little flighty, or jumped out of your skin, and shouted at him not to sneak up on you. They must be on repeat, but that isn’t for you to know.
“The last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me.”
“I know,” you respond quietly. “I know, but I can’t help it.”
“I know,” Ricardo echoes, moving a loose strand of hair out of your eyes. “I’m not asking you to stop something you have no control over, Bel. I’m asking you not to endure it alone.”
“Then get me out of here, Ricardo. Please.”
“You aren’t staying.” He takes your face in both hands and presses a kiss to your forehead. Your fingers curl around his wrists. “Just give me a bit to think of something.”
Something, as it turns out, was Ricardo swaddling you in several-sizes-too-big clothing and hauling your ass out of the building. You admit, it’s not what you had in mind when he got Chen to watch over you while he stepped out of the room for a ‘quick sec’, but you’d be hard pressed to complain about it when the alternative was. Well. That.
You’re sure the embarrassment and shame will catch up to you when you’re clear of this place, but for now, you don’t care. Sprawled across the backseat of Ortega’s car, you do not fucking care. Currently, the only thing you care about is sleeping. Eating, maybe. A smoke would be great, too. You know this conversation isn’t finished—why the fuck does he think you were related to Hollow Ground?
You’re too tired to think about it now. 
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pickaropoprocks · 12 days ago
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Day 93!! Happy Pride!!
#papr daily#mafukasa#some hcs that are very important to me :3 (agender Mafuyu and aroace Tsukasa btw)#Like Tsukasa!!!! I do like the bit of “if not aroace why aroace colored?” for hcing him as such (his 2024 bday card is literally the#aroace flag and just generally you can colorpick the flag from him in most images) but it does go a lot deeper#I highly resonate with him finding romance boring/being uninterested in it (as seen with him removing romance in every story they adapt)#since that's how I grew up being!! And even now I do find myself more interested in a story if romance is entirely out of the equation!!#growing up not liking romance and especially just never having a crush is a rather alienating experience if I'm being so fr#“who do you like :)” asked by everyone really but if you say “no one” you're lying???? fucked up#I strongly believe Tsukasa is so aroace-coded (whether intentionally so or not) even in his actual management of romance!!!!#He still keeps the romantic aspect of Romeo and Juliet in the first ever cultural festival event BUT it is not as important as the action#which is something at least I can relate to as an aroace creator? Where even the pairs I make intending for their to be a romance/romantic#undertones it's STILL not the most important aspect of their relationship by FARRRRR (cough Goldenlily cough iykyk (only Grey knows))#and in the Wondershow Valentine's Day special live where he tries to brag about getting chocolates from girls#it feels (imo) really forced? Considering other dialogue I'll get to later? but it seems like something that I personally haven't done but#I know is somewhat of a common experience in the aro/ace communities of trying to overcompensate/force yourself to feel a certain way#to match your peers? E.g. pretending you have a crush on a specific person when you don't#it kinda feels like that to me + a little bit of wanting to seem more popular with his peers than he is but that's unrelated#and then the most relatable moment ever in Pandemonium when Tsukasa doesn't understand why one of his classmates being popular#with girls is a big deal (which directly contradicts the mindset he has in the aforementioned live) and like!!!!!#“So what? He's just interacting normally with his classmates” ME EVERY TIME I FAIL TO RECOGNIZE ROMANCE RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME#If you asked me to tell you who is likely to be in/to become part of a romantic relationship I would fail no matter how close I am to the#person like unless it is said TO MY FACE I will NEVER see it coming (speaking from many many experiences)#anywsys Tsukasa aroace realness this is my propaganda (/silly y'all can have whatever hcs you want as long as it isn't illegal/harmful and#as long as y'all are respectful to other hcs and don't speak over people trying to share theirs)#but yeah!!!!! Agender Mafuyu is 100% a more simple story LMAO#back when I had Insta I had the very poor decision-making to follow a prsk opinion account (tho it honestly wasn't ALL bad)#BUT!!!!!!!!! There Was A Post#where someone said that they hced Mafuyu as agender and like.#They defined agender as (very much paraphrasing here btw) someone who essentially would rather be seen just as an individual
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itspileofgoodthings · 18 days ago
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before I started teaching I was neutral-to-positive when people would say things to me like “you should start a podcast or run a Serious Writing Blog” and now if you catch me doing either of those things I want you to take me out back and shoot me
#I used to think that would be a Fine thing for me to do#and now I’m so aware of what a profound waste of time and evil that would be#because I didn’t understand how powerful context is for speaking#until I had the right one!#tumblr a liminal space tbh#bc it’s processing/complaining/storytelling/chattering/memes#but even here it’s been so nice to move away from trying to speak with Authority#but yeah. also one time a family friend of ours asked me to come to her house and talk Dante with her and some friends#and I had just finished it#with my seniors#and it was this shocking moment where I realized that not only would I one million times rather read Dante’s inferno with cranky teenagers#than sit around discussing it with an assorted group of intellectuals#but that it struck me as so much more valid to be doing it in a classroom#and it really does strike me as so much more valid. I can’t even fully explain why#I don’t want to go so far as to say the assorted group of intellectuals shouldn’t be reading Dante together#because how could I say that? but emotionally. instinctively. I hate the idea of the assorted intellectuals so much#I shy away from it like you would not believe#but honestly leaving aside the question of which one is more valid as an objective thing to answer#(I think it’s the classroom and I think I could find many reasons for saying so)#but leaving it aside. I simply would be useless at an assorted group of intellectuals#I would shut down. I would be miserable. I would be boring#and I don’t mean socially! cause I would try to be polite!!!!!#but as an intellect!!!!!!!! I would become mute!!!! I would have nothing to say!!!!!!!!!#and there would be no teacher for me to listen to!!!!! only a conflicting babel of (probably the most annoying and wrong) voices#you’ve ever heard in your life#this is how I feel about podcasts too. I had a girl record one of my lectures last year#(it was super upsetting actually)#and she was always like ‘you have to start a podcast’#‘I would listen to you forever’#and honestly it’s like. girl the wit only flows in the classroom. I can’t turn it on and off! certainly not for strangers.
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mantisgodsdomain · 10 months ago
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More notes for Roach conlanging. Roach has grammatical gender, in which only Male, Female, and Object are grammatical genders, whereas Worker uses feminine grammar, Queen and King use a slight variant on feminine grammar, and Drone, and Queen-Alate use masculine grammar. This is because King is derived from Queen, due to their similar positions in a colony, and Queen-Alate is derived from Drone, as both are forms of alate.
Queen is an alteration of feminine grammar that functionally just adds a handful of extra syllables to it, and King is an offsprout of Queen that uses the same grammar with different pronouns. Queen-Alate, despite the name, is derived from Drone, as they are both for referring to different types of alate ant.
Most Roach dialects are intelligible to speakers of Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach, but Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach is not entirely intelligable to speakers of Roach dialects due to a mix of the excessively specialized vocabulary caused by the specific needs of its speakers, the fact that its speakers do not necessarily have Roach mouthparts and thus may not pronounce syllables in a similar way, and due to the fact that Inanimate Object is a full grammatical gender that does not exist in any other dialect of roach and replaces a decent chunk of terminology for things that previously had Other Words For Them.
#we speak#conlang#bug fables#please excuse us if we're mangling the terminology here btw. we cannot for the life of us remember the proper terms for half of this#and every time we try to google things it winds up turning up nothing#probably because we're googling shit like “the term for the thing where self reference is different if youre a guy or a girl”#and like. “part of speech that you use to refer to other people that isnt pronouns or a name that has title associations”#if we reread some textbooks we will probably remember but unfortunately these are not our textbook reference posts#they are our “what if we told you about the cool ways that we did grammar in here” post#god we love grammatical grammar (<guy who doesn't have a strong enough sense of gender to remember der and die properly)#(because we are the specific type of speaker where we're half operating based on what Feels Right with the word and we are)#(so fucking bad at remembering how gendering words is meant to go)#(the secret reason we hate phonetics is because we have to contend with both figuring out how mouthparts would work and like)#(Working Out A Reasonable Collection Of Sounds To Have In Our Language. which means we have to actually like. name things)#(cruel and unusual that we have to make actual words rather than loosely tossing building blocks on the floor. honestly.)#anyways snakemouth den roach is one of those dialects where it's on the verge of becoming a language on its own#where it's very debatable on if it's Actually A New Language or just a very specific dialect of an old one because. well. boxes#picture it as like. trying to speak to someone who you Think is speaking french but they have an extremely thick regional accent#and they keep using like ten-syllable words that you probably don't know but that seem to refer to things that could be referred to#way more concisely?#and also rather than just le and la they have added an entire new lu to the mix and you are unclear if its the accent or a new word entirel#(note: we are not a specialist on french as we primarily know it in the “we've been around it long enough to vaguely know what's being said#way and are not currently caught up enough on whatever they have going on to know about any major grammar stuff going on over there)#(but we are terrible enough with remembering the grammar of the german that we do speak that we do not trust ourself to not be Worse there)
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