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#Well I hope you enjoy them anyway!
chronurgy · 6 months
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i loveeeeeeeee your hc about gortash in all your tags!!! can you share your favorite hc about durge/gortash shenanigans in the city?
Yeah absolutely! Shenanigans hmmm....
Some of these will be a little more specific to my durge (Vesper, half-drow wizard) than others
During the Hall of Wonders heist, gortash specifically left some guards out of his reconnaissance to test how Durge handled themselves under pressure. He wanted to know if this was someone he would work with or someone too crazy to manage.
Gortash and Durge did a heist in the House of Hope as a trial run for their heist of the Crown - this is when they stole Raphael's shoes (the helldusk armor boots that Gortash keeps in the chest at the foot of his bed). Gortash didn't tell them about his history there or with Raphael before they went in. I think after seeing him there Durge did put at least pieces of it together and really left lots of burn marks and blood and guts spread around in their wake to get back at Raphael. They also broke at least one priceless and irreplaceable vase on "accident" while they were there. Their ire towards Raphael from this realization actually manages to carry over even when they can't remember why and it's partly why they're so determined to kill Raphael and so insistent that they won't work with him.
Gortash takes Durge to fancy parties, for a number of reasons - as a bodyguard, to bring them close to a murder target, to introduce them to the kind of high society stuff they'll be involved with as his co-ruler. But also because he loves to show them off, his darling assassin, loves the vicious little comments they make about the other attendees. He starts finding excuses to bring them to any party he can because he only ever enjoys these parties when they're with him, when he has someone just as brilliant as he is at his side. Durge usually has to attend in disguise but sometimes just dressing up fancy enough not to look like a sewer rat is enough to fool people.
Gortash is the kinda guy who will work himself to exhaustion and then fall asleep at his desk. The first time Durge found him like that, completely dead to the world on top of his diagrams and sketches, they thought about killing him. They imagined every detail, knew exactly how it would go. It would have been so easy, because he's so defenseless like this. They see his eyes moving under their lids, see his hands flex, and little expressions pass over his face - they know he's dreaming. They wonder what he's dreaming about (is it them?). And they don't kill him. They just watch him sleep, fascinated by the differences between the waking man they know and this unguarded sleeping one. They leave before he wakes up. I think they do this a couple of times before he finally catches them (maybe because they try to stroke his hair or something in a fit of softness). At first he's like, "oh my apologies, please don't hesitate to wake me should this happen again" before he puts together the look on Durge's face and realizes they've been watching him sleep and tried to like, touch his hair. He considers this a success because they could've killed him a whole bunch of times and didn't and they seem to be developing some sort of feelings towards him. He resolutely does not acknowledge the existence of any things he could possibly be feeling about this. Not at all.
Gortash keeps a large fancy estate in the city, Durge has a guest room there - it starts out as just an extra room but as they spend more time there Gortash starts to customize it more to their liking. He also moves their room to be next to his once he realizes that they're staying over more often, blaming a maid for knocking over a candle and causing fire damage in their old room when they ask why it was moved.
I think one night they have to have at least one really stupid caper they pulled off while extremely drunk that neither of them will talk about - as an example, they got super drunk, decided that since they were so good at heists they should do more of them, broke into some patriars estate, and stole a ton of fancy liquor. They also stole the bust of some guy from the entryway and staggered up the stairs to escape out the window of the daughter of the house's dressing room. Anyway, they woke up the next morning on the floor of Gortash's bedroom, extremely hungover and both of them (and the bust they stole) were wearing fancy little fascinator hats they can't remember but must have stolen out of the dressing room. They try to laugh at each other but gortash just ends up violently throwing up in a trash bin while durge lies on the floor with their eyes squeezed shut because the room won't stop spinning. They refuse to speak of this and will adamantly deny it ever happened if asked. Durge absolutely killed sceleritas while trying to force him into a stupid hat. The exact series of events might need some workshopping, but the core idea is some extremely stupid adventure the two of them had together that neither would ever admit to but is also a cherished memory for both of them.
Gortash's gauntlets (before he had the netherstone) used a series of capacitors and a setup akin to a self winding watch to generate an electric charge that he could attack people with. He designed them himself.
Vesper finds these gauntlets fascinating. When they first meet in person, he shows them off and discusses their construction and it's the first thing about him that they find impressive and intriguing.
As a gift, Gortash gave Vesper a set of sharpened rings designed after his gauntlets.
Vesper actually helped Gortash with some of the designs for the steel watch, looking at the plans and making suggestions - they were especially helpful when it came to the magical portions of the construct.
I think the closest the Urge ever comes to forcing Vesper to kill Gortash isn't when they first meet or during sex. It's one day when they're waiting for some spy's report, so they're sitting around in his room. He's tinkering with something at his workbench, and they're sitting at a desk working on a spell. They realize they need certain special inks for the transcription and look up to see them in the desk's little shelving unit and then they look closer and realize the desk is stocked with all the things a wizard needs - inks, chalks, paper, magical components. And this is the desk they always sit at when they're here and need to do some work. And Gortash has stocked it as a wizard's desk. He's made it their desk. And he's working at his workbench and they're working at their desk together in companionable silence. It's domestic, almost. And that's when the urge hits, with just absolutely crushing intensity, and they turn on gortash. Jokes on them, he's into that shit. After some back and forth between them (the level of explicitness is up to you! Or me, if I can get my act together and write this!), Vesper more or less jumps out the window and spends the next couple of days cutting a bloody swathe through baldur’s gate. When they finally return to him, gortash just asks them if they enjoyed their little vacation. After that, even when recreating much the same scene, the urge never comes on as strongly again (they don't know it at the time but this is the first time they've managed to throw off Bhaal's yoke when he really wanted them to kill someone. He never pushed that hard again with gortash because he's afraid of the consequences, though he still does push them to kill him a little bit).
Gortash gave durge a number of gifts over their acquaintance, both practical and fantastic: jewelry, enchanted items, clothes, shoes, books, any and everything you can imagine. He loves seeing them using his gifts, carrying or wearing something he gave them, because it helps mark them as his. He spends absolutely lavishly on them, buying them beautiful and fancy clothes for them to wear when they're in his house or out with him in public. He also buys them more practical gifts, well-fitting boots, weapons, armor, all of it enchanted and worth a small fortune.
On some of his gifts to Durge, he encodes messages for them in their cypher. They say things like "For my dearest assassin" and "To the sorrow of all" on a weapon and "pari pasu" (Latin for with equal step) and "I've always liked to play with fire", plus any number of other things.
Gortash has a thing for Durge wearing his clothes. One cold morning durge throws on his black coat when they get out of bed to check something and seeing them wearing nothing but his coat is such a thing for him that he ditches all their plans for the day to spend the day in bed with them.
Gortash has a number of affairs, to help his star rise in the upper city. He may use them to make durge jealous, but they are ultimately people to be used and discarded. He doesn't care what they do, because they're tools. Durge is his. His partner. And that's why he doesn't share.
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hailsatanacab · 5 months
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Family Dinners - dpxdc
"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.
The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.
"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.
"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.
"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."
Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.
Ancients, that's so weird!
The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.
Wait. Family dinners?
He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.
"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.
From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.
"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"
"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"
"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."
"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.
Come on, Danny, recover!
"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?
"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."
"Costume? What do you mean?"
Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.
"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!
"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.
"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.
His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.
"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.
Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"
"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"
"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."
"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.
It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.
It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.
Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.
"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."
Once again, the whole table falls into silence.
"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"
"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"
"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."
Danny's grin freezes in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."
"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"
Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.
"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.
"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."
An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.
"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.
"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."
"What did happen?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."
"How long in the future was it?"
"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.
Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"
"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."
"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."
"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"
"What?"
"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."
Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.
"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.
"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."
"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"
"Damian, stop—"
"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."
"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."
"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.
"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."
"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."
"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."
"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."
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sneez · 4 months
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my lord of autism
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starflungwaddledee · 4 months
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some rather strong first impressions were made.
required reading for the magical "voice" headcanon and another for starstruck's signature in particular. asked by @trainerbob23 !
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noxious-fennec · 9 months
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Trying out some new designs (aka playing dress up)
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doodleodds · 1 year
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Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.
If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.
I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.
I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.
Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.
#p5#akeshu#akechi goro#kurusu akira#wow- me?? posting a valentines comic... actually on?? valentines????? wack. absolutely wack#it's a short one! I purposefully tried to keep it short. it was a challenge and it still ended up being 3 pages. but i blame my canvas size#also in case u can't see what akira is holding out to akechi: theyre chocolate covered strawberries on sticks!#i saw them irl and was like oh god i want those. i am going to project that feeling on my favorite characters so help me god#and now! here we are! but my shitty-ass coloring & line quality make it hard to discern them so. sorry about that lmaooooo#ANYWAY i don't do enough post-maruki stuff so. i made this one a little bittersweet. :)#why did i put akechi's scarf in a bow? honestly i dont know! i think i saw some art a while ago that did that too and i thought it was cute#well. plus i guess there's the symbolism of 'akechi being alive and reciprocating your feelings (however involuntarily) IS a gift' part#hence that hes wrapped up in a bow. like a present. :)#also god. the first panel is supposed to be akechi's reflection in a vending machine window. I could NOT get it to look right#so for reference!!! just so you guys understand!!!!!! thats what that panel is supposed to be!!! he is NOT in fact a ghost. (sigh)#hope you enjoyed and had a lovely valentines!! for my part i have eaten nothing but sweets today and hoo boy will that have been a mistake#ALSO in terms of the audience-participation comic...hopefully coming soon. if i can ever gain the will to draw it.#but at least tumblr has polls now so i can do the audience-choose-y bit without needing to use a separate website! so thats good i guess#anyway anyway anway thanks for listening to me ramble if you made it this far! have a lovely rest of your day and hopefully see u again soon
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deoidesign · 1 day
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I hate posting on social media.
But I do it anyways.
Every time I post something, it risks people getting mad at me. Of getting big, too big, and coming back around to hurt me. It's happened before. It'll happen again.
And yet I post anyways.
Because I think a lot of people feel very much alone. And I think that the power of art is that it can, for a moment, make someone feel less alone.
When I look at art I can feel the artist behind it, saying "I made this, and I wanted you to see it. And I want you to see yourself in it too. And I want you to know I love you." And I feel a connection in the humanity of every stroke they made. Through millennia and cultures and lifestyles, no matter what, there is always the artist behind the work, and I know I'm not alone.
Every time I share something my art transforms, entirely against my will. While I'm working it's reflective, relaxing, explorative. I'm learning while I draw, about myself and the things around me and how I see things.
And then I post.
And now it's in someone else's hands. They see it, and everything I tried to put into it is irrelevant. It only matters what someone gets out of it.
This transformation is magical, but it is also extremely vulnerable.
And it's scary!
But I share anyways.
Because I made this. And I wanted you to see it. And I want you to see yourself in it too.
And I want you to know I love you.
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misciouscave · 28 days
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Small doodles to fuel my denial
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How do you feel about Beetlejuice x Ms. Argentina?
I think they’re really cute :)
I specifically like pairing her with musical Beej, because it’s the dynamic I like best. (Toonjuice is Jacques’s man, and Movie…. He can stay alone in my opinion.😂) I’ve wanted to post something with them for a chunk of time, but I’ve struggled to come up with anything I deem post-worthy.
In the absence of an illustration, I hope you’ll accept this humble offering that describes my vision.
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baeshijima · 10 months
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okay so im rewatching the blade pv before i sleep and????
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i think thats both il and dan heng depicted here, showing that despite the changes both he and blade have undergone, blade still associates the two as one even if dan heng is technically not the same as imbibitor lunae ;w;;
and their images overlap in his view much like when we see pre-struck blade in the pv reminiscing il, which then transitions into current blade staring at a figment of dan heng running him through with his spear like mentioned in the nameless honor light cone "nowhere to run"......
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NOT TO MENTION THE YIN YANG CONTRAST OF LIGHT AND DARK, GOOD AND EVIL WITH THEIR PAST COUNTERPARTS??????
i am unwell end me now i hate their lore so much. (<- she says, like a liar)
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qeyond · 1 year
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First kiss <3
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theflyingfeeling · 5 months
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💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖
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Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝
The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️
For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3
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PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!
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~
Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 
Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).
Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)
The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.
Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.
You awake?
Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.
He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 
“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.
“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”
“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 
Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.
“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”
A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.
“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.
“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.
“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”
Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.
“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”
“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.
“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”
Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 
“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.
“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”
“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.
The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.
“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.
He had to steel himself for his next question.
“What do you mean?”
“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 
A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.
“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’
“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.
“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”
Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.
“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”
“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”
Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.
“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”
“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”
Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)
“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”
Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.
“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”
That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.
“Probably not half as much as I did.”
Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.
If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.
It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.
Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇
Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.
yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤
From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.
#blind channel fanfiction#blind channel rpf#ollixallu#24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling#<- that's the tag i'll be using for these btw#everyone stop and look at the banner!! 🥺💖#it's not QUITE like the original one ju made first but maybe one day you'll get to see that masterpiece as well 😏#but ooff the way i've gone from having 'a plan' to having 'a better plan' to having 'no plan whatsoever' with this? 😂#so yeah idk what kinda fics/posts there'll be in this series... stay tuned and see for yourself! 🤭#some of them might be in the same universe/plot. others may not. who knows? not i 😌#(...but as you can see from this fic the door for a multiple-part story is definitely open 👀)#some of the fics may not even be based on a prompt though if i'm not feeling like it. honestly i'm curious to see how this will turn out!#(and if this ends up being the only post i ever make that's alright too! i refuse to bully myself with a hobby i'm doing for free <3)#however: i'm not taking requests per say BUT feel free to snoop on the prompts for each day and send me your ideas or hopeful wishes 👀#there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone#one could say i'm just going with the flow. fuck around and find out if you will ✨#also: not sure if/when i'll be bothered to post any of these on ao3#probably i'll just see how many fics i manage to actually finish and dump them all at once on ao3 on christmas day lol#anyway! enjoy & let me hear from you <3
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good-beanswrites · 1 month
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Just wanted to plant an idea if you wanted a bit of fuel: Mahiru asking Yuno to come to her cell before everything goes down.
Edit: I forgot the ask didn't say it but this is part of Kyanako's incredible Order Of Attack AU!
Didn't mean for this to become a mini Mappi study but here we are ✨ Thank you for the request! I fully intended to write them hanging out, but it's more right before they hang out lol. Went a bit on-the-nose with foreshadowing, but isn't that the fun part? It has become Emotional Over Mahiru Hour...
I kept things vague, but TW for mentioning her boyfriend's state of potential self-harm
Mahiru tried not to act superstitious, she really did. As much as she loved the idea of little luck charms, or avoided easy signs of misfortune, it was easier to keep quiet about such ridiculous things.
Maybe catching a bride’s bouquet meant no guarantees; maybe there was no real harm in stepping underneath ladders, maybe a coin tossed into a fountain had no real magic to its wish. However, the one thing she knew for sure held power was a lucky presence. Being in the right place at the right time could alter everything. And today was the right time for something. There was this waiting in the air. The prison had been holding its breath. Mahiru knew it was time to release it all.
“You must be so lonely, why don’t you let big sis Mahiru keep you company?” She beamed at Amane.
She often recalled the good fortune that she and a certain young man had crossed paths on the university terrace. She used to laugh with him about the wonderful coincidence of bumping into each other outside of the bakery, then the convenience store. 
Though she’d never spoken about it to him, she was also grateful for many occasions where she walked in on him at the precise moment to talk him out of something reckless. She always told him that they’d do everything together. He didn’t need to be alone anymore. 
“I wish to be alone. I need peace of mind to think.” Amane turned away from the cell door.
It was a good thing, too. Mahiru’s smile wasn’t as convincing as she said, “o-oh. Of course.”
She made her way around the panopticon, hearing Fuuta pace his cell in anticipation. He must have felt it too, this holding of breath. 
Or perhaps not. He turned down her offer for a bit of company, including a few more colorful words than Amane had. Mahiru just apologized for bothering him and headed back to her cell. She wasn’t sure where Mikoto was at this hour, but she didn’t feel like smiling through a third rejection.
She shook her head back and forth. She wished the motion could rattle the voices inside, she wished she could shake them all away. With her arms secured in place she could no longer cover her ears. She used to hum to keep them at bay, but lately they’d been too loud to stifle. They just kept on talking.
Their words told her the two were right. Nobody needed her company. No – nobody wanted it. Being together hadn’t helped her boyfriend. In fact, being together had been the very thing that got him killed. No wonder Amane and Fuuta wanted to avoid her. 
So then, this was for the best. She would rather deal with the brief sting of refusal than stumble in one day to find them hurt… or worse. As much as she tried to avoid the superstition of it all, the voices reminded her that her very presence could mean life or death. 
“Mappi, are you alright?” Mahiru hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down her cheek until she hurried to swipe it away in front of Yuno. 
“Hah, I’m fine! Just fine.” It was impossible to fool her, Mahiru had learned, but that never stopped her from trying. 
At least she always spoke tactfully. “Rough morning?”
Mahiru shifted her arms in her uniform, making a small sound of agreement.
“Can I do anything to help? What if I stay with you for a bit? I can do your hair, and…”
The voices were right. Amane and Fuuta knew it, too. Presences did hold power, and Mahiru’s was cursed.
But she would sound foolish admitting such a fear to Yuno. She'd heard plenty from the voices about how stupid and airheaded she was, there was no use in getting the same lecture from someone as grounded as her.
Mahiru managed a weak protest, unable to explain her real reasoning. Yuno was insistent. She didn’t give much of a choice. Could she feel the strangeness of the prison, as well? 
At last, Mahiru allowed her shoulders to sag. Yuno was lucky. And kind. Having her nearby would do her good. Amane and Fuuta would be alright. Mahiru had tried spending more time with them after verdicts were announced. Now, she made a mental note to pull back. If her love couldn’t save anyone, at least she could spare them from her curse. They would be safe. 
“Yes. Please stay. The truth is... I don't want to be alone.”
#milgram#mahiru shiina#yuno kashiki#amane and fuuta mentioned#i dont know how well this all fits in with your vision of the au but i had a ton of fun with this lmao sorry 😂#oh hey if anyone knows any japanese superstitions like those in the beginning lmk#i was trying to research them but i kept getting lucky symbols/words - not necessarily actions like that#anyway thank you so much for this!! it was a really interesting moment to capture >:0#drabbles that take me way too long to combine my three brain cells but im really pleased with the end result#i had a lot of Mahiru Thoughts but it took a bit of fiddling to make them fit together#the superstitiousness - the focus on one's presence - the parallels with his bf - what she's dealing with from the voices#im glad it came together semi-smoothly in the end asdfsd#i didnt mean for mahiru t break the fourth wall or anything --#i always saw her as a master at picking up on social changes/cues so she can tell when things are most tense/kotoko is fully prepared#but she doesnt consciously know it -- she just knows that things feel Off#not only do the attacks confirm mahirus fear that shes cursed - but yunos involvement confirms her belief that shes extra lucky#i wonder if shed still end up spending all her time with yuno now that she thought she was such a protective person...#i couldnt articulate it right since the end was wrapping up so nicely - but mahiru starts to wonder if most people are fine being left alon#and *shes* the odd one out for craving company#then she feels isolated because by getting what she wants shes dooming someone else#i mean... if everyone you try to get close to starts getting hurt... wouldnt you worry about the same...?#AHAHAHAHA hope you enjoyed 🙃#*posts this then retreats back into the void for a bit*#drabbles
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skitskatdacat63 · 4 months
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@lesharl-eclair here is the vettonso timeline I mentioned at some point!! I was gonna make a more refined version but ah, the original is fine so I'm posting it for you <3
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Its written so its as if their careers began at the same time. There's obviously some parts where they deviate from each other(I blame Fernando), but they're pretty similar, no??
Here's some notes I have:
They both started at technically the same team(if you ignore that Seb raced one race for Sauber): Minardi/STR. And they spent 3 seasons either racing for that team or testing(Fernando for Renault, Seb for BMW teams), before being promoted to the team where they won their respective WDCS.
They both spent six seasons with their WDC team. And both won their WDCs using Renault engines. Both were pretty much the golden boys of their teams, beloved by their team principal and team in general. Unfortunately both aren't consecutive because Fernando tried out McLaren lol.
They spent a similar amount of years at Ferrari(five and six respectively.) Neither could win a WDC with Ferrai(😔) And both joined Ferrari in a very similar way. When Fernando joined, he ousted Kimi and it was very uncertain where Kimi was going. I think the commentators in 2009 predicted McLaren? (But he ended up taking a sabbatical obv.) But pretty messy, right? The literal same exact thing happened with Fernando and Seb in 2014-2015. They finally announced at the end of the season, even though it was pretty obvious, that Seb would be replacing Fernando. And where did Fernando go? McLaren! The history book on the shelf is always repeating itself. I guess I find it funny that Fernando replaced his former rival under somewhat messy circumstances, only for his other rival to do the exact same thing to him years later.
Okay McHonda and Alpine blah blah blah. Anyways they're probably going to have both end up competing their careers after two years with Aston Martin. This honestly is my favorite parallel. Because it's very sweet to me that Seb replaced Fernando, in an aforementioned messy way, only for Fernando to take Seb's seat in a very peaceful, almost "passing the torch" type exchange 🥰
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cuz-reasons · 1 month
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Summary: Emmet and Ingo go to work
Had to split this into two chapters, but that simply means more fic to read
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fleetsonourgecentral · 2 months
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A request: Ebony celebrates Fleetway Super birthday along with the freedom Fighthers celebrathing Sonic's birthday (so Super and Sonic share a birthday celebration :D) but Scourge IS jealous because he doesn't get any gifts
Adfjdasfjds Scourge being jealous for petty reasons my beloved
~~~
"This doesn't seem fair," Scourge grumbled, folding his arms and glaring at his surroundings like he could set the decorations alight with his eyes alone. Unfortunately, getting zapped by the Master Emerald didn't seem to grant him those powers, but hey, it was always worth double checking.
"Life isn't fair," Sonic said, smug smirk fully plastered on his face as he lounged on his throne for the day. The throne in question was nothing more than an old armchair fished out of the dump, and was covered in rips and clearly falling apart, but it was clean (thanks to Tekno's efforts) and it was the nicest chair the Freedom Fighters owned, so they made do.
Scourge was surprised they were putting in the effort at all. Sonic's ego was so big it was a wonder his head didn't swell and become too heavy for his body to carry; there was really no need to stroke his ego by giving him a throne.
For some reason, though, the Freedom Fighters, despite usually being extremely enthusiastic about keeping Sonic's ego in check, had decided today was an exception. It was his birthday, after all.
"How did you even get all this?" Scourge said. Thankfully, none of the cheesy "happy birthday" banners had been strung up on the wall - those were dumped on Ebony's doorstep - but in their place were custom-made banners proudly congratulating the Hero of Mobius on another year of victory over Robotnik. Over the top and unnecessary, considering the victory in question was mostly just his continued survival, and thus his continued ability to be a future pain in the ass.
Not that Robotnik didn't have it coming, but still.
"We made them!" Tails chirped from where he was stringing up another banner, this one declaring today as Sonic Day. "Tekno designed most of the banner so it would look cool enough that Sonic won't complain, and then Amy and I helped decide what they should say, and then we all painted them together!"
"And you didn't invite me?"
"We both know you would've told us all to fuck off if we asked you to help," Amy said, although the teasing smile on her face showed her comment was light-hearted instead of irritated. Gross.
"These aren't new, anyway," Tekno said. "We made these before you arrived, so you couldn't have helped. Unless you found a way to time travel. If you find an easy way to time travel, let me know?"
"Sure, whatever."
And now that Scourge was looking, the banners did seem a little worn. Small rips on the edges, colors dulled, the paper crinkled; obviously reused over the years. He nudged one of the banners crumpled on the floor with his foot, then picked it up to inspect it, holding it with his thumb and forefinger. Sonic's painted winking face greeted him, and Scourge sneered at it. On the back of the banner, he could see a cluster of signatures. Some he recognised - Tails and Amy - while some he'd never heard of - who in the world was Shortfuse? - and some... well, some were just initials, none of which he recognised. He certainly didn't remember any friends of Sonic's who went by J.L.
"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to help?" Amy said, lightly elbowing him as she passed, snatching the banner from his hands.
"What's it look like? I'm gonna stand here."
"No you're not. Help Tekno bring the gifts in."
"I'm not participating in this. You do shit like this then wonder why he's an arrogant dickhead."
"Is it arrogance if it's justified?" Sonic said.
"Justify my foot up your ass," Scourge said, just as Tekno dragged him away.
The pile of presents was bigger than it had any right to be. The Freedom Fighters didn't have much money - apparently fighting for the safety of the entire fucking planet doesn't pay well, or at all, which is bullshit and all the more reason for Scourge to find the whole thing stupid - so none of them could really afford to go all-out with the presents, but the bulk of the pile came from local civilians who had caught wind of the celebration and wanted to express their gratitude. Over the past week during their travels, civilians would stop them, shyly handing over presents and telling them they were for Sonic's birthday, a token of their appreciation for constantly saving their asses, because they couldn't be bothered to do it themselves.
No one said that last bit out loud, but Scourge always made sure to mentally add it.
Why they couldn't express their gratitude with some fucking cash, he did not know.
"Grab the presents by the table?" Tekno said, scooping presents into her arms. For what it was worth, although the pile was bigger than one would expect, at least most of the presents were small.
Groaning with all the contempt he could muster, Scourge shuffled over to the table and started tucking presents under his arms.
"Did you drop off everything at Ebony's?" Tekno said. Her voice was low, hidden by the rustle of the presents, only loud enough for Scourge to hear. Not that he thought Sonic could hear them when they were out here, but better safe than sorry.
"Whaddya take me for? Of course I did," Scourge said, voice equally low, although that was more for Tekno's peace of mind than his own. She'd shush him if she thought he was being too loud, but she was also really bad at shushing people quietly, and ended up attracting attention with her shushes more often than not. It was really counterproductive. Scourge didn't know why Sonic had let it slide for this long.
"Just making sure."
Scourge grunted, but he did give the rest of the presents an obligatory once-over, just to be sure there weren't any that shouldn't be there.
Super's birthday fell on the same day as Sonic's. It was why all the cheesy banners had been dumped on Ebony instead of in the trash where they belonged. The Freedom Fighters - okay, mostly Tekno - thought it was a good idea to send a few presents over from all of them, as a gesture of goodwill and minor bribery to please not turn evil and try to kill them all again. It was a plan Sonic had been conveniently left out of; even with their less strained relationship (although that really wasn't saying much) it was blatantly obvious he still wasn't fond of Super. He wouldn't stop them from giving him birthday presents, or wanting to wish him a happy birthday, but he would wrinkle his nose and mutter a comment under his breath, which was apparently a problem, although Scourge hadn't figured out why.
Ebony had asked if they wanted to stop by, even tentatively offered a joint birthday celebration if that would make things easier, but she was swiftly turned down. Presents were a safe bet, the Freedom Fighters had agreed, because they could be dropped off at any time, and Sonic would never have to know, and they could wish Super a happy birthday without ever leaving Sonic's side on the actual day. And they could send Scourge to be their little delivery boy so none of them would have to do it; despite the olive branch, Tails and Amy were still wary of Super. Apparently Scourge and (somehow) Tekno were the only ones who weren't little bitches about him.
Well, Sonic wasn't a little bitch exactly, but he wasn't as cool and casual about Super as he wanted to be. So he didn't count.
"I'm just saying," Scourge said, hefting as many presents into his arms as he could, "if you're going to make the decorations look like a 'congrats on kicking ass without dying' celebration, we should all be getting presents."
"It's not your birthday, though."
"I'm his boyfriend, though. Shouldn't I get, like, a solidarity present?"
"No, because it isn't your birthday."
Scourge bit back a comment about how if Super got to have a birthday just because he was another Sonic, then logically, so should he. Because, well, it wasn't his birthday, even though all the celebration really made it feel like it should be. He thought birthdays for Sonics were the same across all dimensions - he was pretty sure he shared a birthday with Prime, eugh - but apparently not.
With another exaggerated groan, he shuffled back into the living room with the presents towering high above him, because second trips were for chumps, and dumped them at Sonic's feet. His own gift wasn't in there, but only because he'd already given it to Sonic this morning. The moment he woke up, in fact. Scourge wasn't about to be beaten by anyone in anything, including being the first person to give Sonic a gift.
Not that it was anything special. Scourge wasn't exactly rolling in money either, and Sonic was a pain in the ass to shop for. Humiliation had nipped at his heels when he handed the gift over, ready to burn him, but Sonic seemed to really like it - underneath the obligatory layer of snark - so it was fine.
Probably.
He eyed the pile of presents again, and tried not to gnaw on his lip.
Some of the civilians who gave them presents looked... well, not well-off, but comfortable. Not rich, not even close to rich, but able to at least afford something nice for the Hero of Mobius. More than Scourge could afford.
More than any of the Freedom Fighters could afford, though, and Sonic didn't really give a shit about his fans outside of the inherent bragging rights that come with having fans in the first place. None of those civilians knew what Sonic liked. The Freedom Fighters did. Scourge did.
He doubted any civilian signatures were on the back of the banner he picked up.
A party thrown by civilians probably wouldn't look like this at all. That would be far more elaborate, with more people pitching in to help, even more vomit-worthy banners and decorations hung from every wall and banister, singing the praises of Sonic the Hedgehog. Over the top, and licking his ass, and making a huge deal out of him. Exactly the kind of celebration Sonic would like; he always loved it when people lavished him with praise for his efforts in saving the world, the arrogant bastard.
Sonic didn't have any of that, this year. Oh, sure, the party would stroke his ego, but it wasn't lavish. Compared to what he could have, it was almost humble.
But. He didn't look upset by it. Didn't even feign annoyance that it wasn't as big as it could be.
Scourge couldn't remember any of his own birthdays looking like this growing up. No friends surrounding him, bickering as they hung birthday banners or fetched presents or argued over the cake. No shitty birthday chair fished out of the dump. No lavish party to sing his praises. His birthdays weren't humble like this one, but they weren't extravagant, either.
They were... cold. Empty. There was no soul in the presents, no warmth in the candle of the cake. No signatures on the back of a hand-made birthday banner.
Scourge swallowed down the ugly feeling in his stomach.
Whatever. He didn't need any of that shit. He was Scourge the fucking Hedgehog, he knew exactly how great he was. Who needed a giant party? Not him. He wasn't that fragile.
"Scowl any harder and your face will get stuck."
Scourge flipped Sonic off without even looking. "Eat shit, birthday boy."
"Are you sulking because Pixel Brain jumped on you this morning when he came to wish me a happy birthday?"
"He crushed my fucking ribs," Scourge complained, glad for something to focus on. The interruption had been rude, and Tails was fortunate they were already awake; had he done that shit while Scourge was still asleep, he would've gotten an ass full of quills.
"Right. And you're definitely not sulking because you wanted to cuddle."
"I don't cuddle."
"Bullshit you don't."
"I don't. You have no proof."
"Then you're gonna start."
Before Scourge could say a word of protest, Sonic grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him onto his lap.
"Fuck off and let me go," Scourge snapped, shifting to get comfortable.
"It's my birthday," Sonic said, smirking his stupid, smug, victorious grin. "That means you have to do what I say."
"I'm not doing shit, you can't tell me what to do, birthday or not," Scourge said, leaning further into Sonic when he wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him closer.
"You'll get the chair when it's your birthday, if it's any consolation."
"Fuck the chair! What about my presents?"
"We'll see."
"Asshole," Scourge grumbled, biting Sonic lightly on the shoulder to emphasize his point, but he only got an amused chuckle in return.
"You're getting off when the cake gets here," Sonic said.
Huffing, Scourge snuggled further into Sonic. They'd see about that.
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