#alive. but the longer he lives the more and more awful shit he sees and the more it breaks him. but he cant die bc then the only person left

[deus-and-the-machina]

I think an underlooked part of what shaped jin’s mindset was how even back in Torna, he was considered “property”. He and Lora spent their whole lives avoiding the authorities of Torna because they believed would straight up execute Lora to get Jin back, and no one ever denies it. and this has seemingly been a fear since Lora was a child. Jin had to hide his face everywhere he went. Maybe Torna wouldn’t have been cruel enough to execute a child, especially since the king seemed decent(?) enough, if not a bit distant. But the fact it was even a fear at all for Lora since she was so young is just awful to think about. 

According to his past self’s journals, Jin and his old driver fought in a war of independence for Torna, perhaps what made him a hero to begin with. and because he’s a war hero for deeds he doesn’t even remember, the kingdom considers him owned by them. Which is on the nose in two different ways ngl. Both in how the Blades are seen and a wider metaphor of soldiers/state. idk it’s just very sad to think about

#I think a lot of people (esp people who dont really interact with the actual story of 2) boil jins motives down to lora too often #like yes her death sent him spiraling but his actual motives dont like. actually have much to do with her directly. it contributed to his #bad mental state that allowed him to get to that point but he still has plenty of reasons to hate how blades are treated and hes right! #its also why 'lora wouldn't have wanted this' doesnt really matter to him. yeah she wouldnt have. she's also been dead for ages so what does #it matter? like hes definitely not coping healthily mans is constantly retraumatizing himself by keeping her body around but like #he knows she's dead hes accepted it so hes doing better than N at least! jin hates being immortal but he stays alive to keep Loras memory #alive. but the longer he lives the more and more awful shit he sees and the more it breaks him. but he cant die bc then the only person left #who really knew lora would be gone (Minoth is alive too but he knew her for like several weeks at most alsfjakfjljfsa) and thats the curse #xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #jin #siren says

[bricknees]

merle was a creep at times but he was on his way to redemption. i love the idea of sort-of-brother-in-law merle that got to live a little longer and make an effort to be a better person.

this is assuming daryl's partner is a female, btw

❜ ─ more under cut ─ ❛

• merle realizing just how head over heels daryl is for you. he would give him HELL over it but at the end of the day he would be so protective over this little ray of light in his baby brother's life

• you think daryl can be scary when a guy's looking at you the wrong way? the guy's quite literally done for when merle finds out

• "merle, you can't say that, that's offensive-" "aw hell, y'all are some damn pansies!"

• "lemme know when you get tired of my little bro, i'll show you what a real man's like-" "you ever shut yer damn mouth, merle?"

• ^ he's not serious though. he just likes to get daryl riled up and thinks it's funny to see your nose scrunch up in disgust, even if he does end up getting clocked in the jaw for it

• when the brothers go on supply runs, merle points out necklaces or earrings they come across, encouraging daryl to take it for you because "women love shiny shit"

• he's always asking you when you're going to pop out a little boy so he can finally be an uncle

• "how ya know it wouldn't be a girl?" "ain't been a girl with dixon blood since i been alive, brother. ain't gonna happen." (if you and daryl have a baby, it definitely does happen)

• when the prison falls, you can't find daryl and there's no more time, so you end up running from the prison with merle

• he hates it

• like every second of it

• not necessarily because he minds your company, but moreso because this is a huge fucking weight on his shoulders

• your wellbeing is now his #1 priority because you're daryl's girl and that makes you family, and he has no intentions of letting his little brother down again

• so it's a lot of pressure

• plus you keep giving him that nasty ass side-eye like he pissed in your cornflakes any time he says something that he finds hilarious (it's actually just offensive), and he's starting to think your sense of humor is nonexistent

• you expect him to make some vulgar jokes or try to come onto you at any given minute, but to your surprise, he actually never does

• like i said, he was never serious and he only joked about it to mess with daryl. without daryl around, he's rather respectful of your space

• at night he tells you stories of his time in the military before he got discharged and went to prison

• please don't cry around him :) he likes you and all, but he would really rather cut off his other hand than have to try and comfort you - that's daryl's job

• the only time he manages to not be an ass when you're crying is when you mention worrying about daryl and missing him

• merle lets out a hefty sigh in response, ruffles your hair with his one hand, and admits that he misses him, too

#merle dixon #daryl dixon #twd #twd headcanons #headcanons #twd imagine #daryl dixon x reader

[olenvasynyt]

“It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.”

I really need to talk about this, and the fight Feyre and Lucien have in ACOFAS in general because Feyre is so wildly frustrating during this whole conversation, and I want to delve into it line by line.

So this is when Lucien arrives for the Winter Solstice.  Elain has left the room and the argument him and Feyre have begins with Feyre saying he should live in Velaris.

Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: “‘You could come live here, is all I’m saying,’ I pushed.  ‘Truly live here, stay in Velaris for longer than a few days at a time.  We could get you nicer quarters—‘ Lucien got to his feet.  ‘I don’t need your charity.’”

First issue that isn’t a huge deal but “nicer quarters”?  Not a home, just quarters, an allowance, a charity, as Lucien says here?

And it just keeps going downhill, because when he explains that he is getting along with Vassa and Jurian just fine, she is almost taken aback and shows a bit of jealousy.  Her biases are really starting to show as well as her lack of self-awareness.

I rose as well.  ‘But Jurian and Vassa’s is fine?’ ‘You’d be surprised to see how well the three of us get along.’ Friends, I realized.  They had somehow become his friends.  ‘So you would rather stay with them?’ ‘I’m not staying with them.  The manor is ours.’” ‘Interesting.’ His golden eye whirred.  ‘What is.’ Not feeling very festive at all, I said sharply, ‘That you now feel more comfortable with humans than with the High Fae.  If you ask me—' ‘I’m not.’ ‘It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.’”

She lashes out and basically says that the Night Court isn’t Lucien’s home.  

This part is so awful to me for multiple reasons. Now, there is the critique of Lucien having prejudices towards humans in ACOTAR.  That is probably the only critique I will accept, he was an ass in the first book; the way he talked about humans negatively impacted Feyre.  And this could be applied to Eyre’s side of this argument, Feyre could be like “huh you’re friends with humans now, that’s interesting.  You always shat on humans before.”

But I do not think this can be applied to this argument because 1. Feyre, after her change to High Fae, is more comfortable with Fae than with humans, we can see this in ACOMAF, she does not like eating human food, she is hyperaware of all of the differences between being fae and being human.

and 2. Feyre and Lucien have had a conversation about the human war in ACOWAR.  Lucien said he would have fought for the humans if he was alive during the War:

Chapter 3 of ACOWAR: “‘If you’d been alive for the War, would you have fought on their side?  Or fought for the humans?’ ‘I would have been a part of the human-Fae alliance.’ ‘Even if your father wasn’t?’ ‘Especially if my father wasn’t.’”

Maybe he has had some prejudices against humans before but he does explain he would fight for their freedom, he talks about how he disliked their alliance with Hybern.  I always viewed his comments on humans in the first book as him directing his anger and frustration with Feyre and not his idea of humans in general.  He did not like Feyre for killing Andras and he had very little hope when it came to the curse. And after Lucien sends Feyre to capture the Suriel and almost gets her killed, he feels guilty and is also like “Feyre…I thought you would be more mad at me for this” and she is like “nah I get it, I killed your friend.”

Chapter 18 of ACOTAR: “‘You can’t possibly forgive me that easily for sending you into danger.’ ‘No.  And part of me would like nothing more than to wallop you for your lack of warning about the Suriel.  But I understand: I am a human who killed your friend, who now lives in your house, and you have to deal with me.  I understand.’"

People shit on Lucien for that moment but this was when he finally realized who Feyre actually is.  He realizes his mistake in judging Feyre and apologizes.  And this is when their friendship starts to truly develop.  

"‘Tam told me that your first shot was to save the Suriel’s life.  Not your own.’ ‘It seemed like the right thing to do.’ The look he gave me was more contemplative than any he’d give me before.  ‘I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered.’”

And 3. also he met Vassa, Jurian and Feyre’s father and other humans during his mission to find Vassa and an army.

So him having past prejudices towards humans should not and is not Feyre’s issue with him being friends with Vassa and Jurian.    Feyre does not bring that up to him or imply it in her inner dialogue.  It seems like her issue is Lucien found friends outside of the Night Court.

“Friends, I realized.  They had somehow become his friends.  ‘So you would rather stay with them?’”

She almost sounds like she is jealous or confused.  “You would rather stay with them and not with me and the IC?”  It’s almost like she’s thinking “why don’t you love the IC and the Night Court as much as I do?” which is so ironic to me and lacking any self-awareness! You should know why he doesn’t like going to the NC, Feyre. He explains it after this moment in the conversation. 

And I will get to that point later, I want to go in order because Feyre just keeps going downhill:

After Feyre implies that Lucien doesn’t have a home, Lucien then makes a boundary.  

“Lucien stared at me, long and hard.  ‘Happy Solstice to you, Feyre.’”

He is saying, “I am done with this conversation, I do not want to talk to you anymore, I am leaving.”  

“He turned toward the foyer, but I grabbed his arm to halt him.  The corded muscle of his forearm shirted beneath the fine silk of the sapphire jacket, but he made no move to shake me off.  ‘I didn’t mean that.  You have a home here.  If you want it.’”

And Feyre does try to apologize and correct herself because she knows she was wrong for basically implying he doesn’t have a home but she is cutting over this line Lucien drew.  You can tell Lucien does not like it when she grabs him and forces him to stop leaving.

He does not want to talk to her about this, and for good reason because when he is like “alright I will continue this conversation” and begins to explain to her the Band of Exiles, she interrupts him, dismisses him, makes fun of him.  

“Lucien studied the sitting room, the foyer beyond and the dining room on its other side.  ‘The Band of Exiles.’ ‘The what?’ ‘That’s what we call ourselves.  The Band of Exiles.’ ‘You have a name for yourselves.’  I fought my incredulous tone. He nodded.  ‘Jurian isn’t an exile.’ Vassa, yes.  Lucien, two times over now. ‘He can call himself whatever he likes.’ But I asked, ‘and what, exactly, does this Band of Exiles plan to do?  Host events?  Organize party planning committees?’”

Frustration 1 with her saying, “what is the band of exiles planning to do?  Organize party planning committees?” Two pages ago there was a whole conversation and inner dialogue about how there has been no governing in the southern human lands and that Vassa and Jurian have a vision for the future and want to change, they are planning to actually do something for the humans and the land you used to live in as a human.

“[Vassa and Jurian] both trying to lead the humans who occupied the sliver of land at the southernmost end of Prythian.  Left ungoverned for so long.  Far too long. “‘Mercifully, their vision for the future of the human territories is mostly aligned.’”

and frustration 2. He was trying to explain to you his genuine feelings and struggles!

“I made friends who have something in common with me, who appreciate me,” and she interrupts him and she makes fun of him for it!  It sucks!

The Band of Exiles is a stupid name, I love Lucien but I do cringe whenever I hear that name.  And they have always had this back-and-forth banter and crude jokes with each other, but this is a terrible moment to joke around because Lucien is trying to explain his feelings and his reasons, but she’s just being dismissive.

Also another point: her looking down at him for having a group name.  She also has a group name with her friends.  The Court of Dreams, the Inner Circle.  And those aren’t any less cheesy, y'all, I’m sorry, I said it. 🤷‍♀️

Another thing that is so goddamn frustrating to me is he is like “these are all the reasons why I don’t like being in the Night Court.”  1. He can’t stand to be in the same room as Elain, he is upset that she is avoiding him.  2. He doesn’t like getting charity from her and Rhys.  And 3. he also hates how Feyre and Rhys ruined his chance of going back to the Spring Court because of the way she used him to get revenge, and the way Rhys acted with Tamlin when he visits.

“‘I don’t have anywhere else to go.  You ruined any chance I have of going back to Spring.  Not to Tamlin, but to the court beyond his house.  Everyone either believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicit in your deceit.’  ‘I can’t stand to be in the same room as [Elain] for more than two minutes.  I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back…' ‘…Tamlin sent it to our manor yesterday.  My clothes.  My belongings.  All of it.’”

And Feyre acknowledges this.  But she doesn’t feel guilty despite seeing how upset it made Lucien, how it so negatively impacted him.

“‘But the blame for that behavior was not on Tamlin’s shoulders alone.  I’d created that rift.  Ripped it apart with my own two hands. I didn’t quite feel guilty enough to warrant apologizing for it.  Not yet.  Possibly not ever.”

She can still hold resentment towards Tamlin but why can’t she apologize for how it affects Lucien?  I really dislike Feyre and Rhys because of this, and regardless of this making them look inconsiderate and thoughtless, I think this makes her and Rhys look like bad rulers.  Lucien is like, "this affected me negatively, but it’s also going to affect you.  And probably Prythian.  This was a bad call on your part."

“‘Why?’ ‘Perhaps it had something to do with your mate’s visit the other day.’ ‘Rhys didn’t involve you in that.’ ‘He might as well have…your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male.’ ‘I can’t say I’m particularly sorry that he did.’ ‘You will need Tamlin as an ally before the dust has settled.  Tread carefully.’ “I didn’t want to think about it, consider it, today.  Any day.”

Feyre just dismisses it.  She does not want to consider what Lucien is saying.  

The one thing I will sort of applaud Feyre for is when she tells Elain that Lucien is a good male after he leaves.

“‘He brought you a present.’ ‘And that entitles him to my time, my affections?’ ‘No.  But he is a good male.’  Despite our harsh words.  Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit.  ‘He cares for you.’”

However, she is lashing out at Elain because she’s frustrated with the conversation she just had and is upset that she was in the wrong.  

“I know I wasn’t truly angry with her, not angry at anyone but myself, but I said, ‘You couldn’t say a single word to him?  A pleasant greeting?’”

Feyre is misdirecting because she does not want to think about her mistakes.

I have some issues with Elain, it’s very true that she doesn’t owe anything to Lucien just because she’s his mate, I think it would be better for her to stop avoiding Lucien and actually say her feelings.  But I’m talking about Feyre in this video, I can make a Lucien and Elain video later.

I don’t know, Feyre has really gone downhill for me after ACOWAR.  You can still like her but I know I’m not the only one who dislikes her now and Feyre’s mistakes and biases and the way she hurts people cannot be ignored.  

Idk what else to say besides Lucien. Deserves. Better.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #anti feyre #anti rhysand #anti inner circle #lucien deserves better #tiktok video summary

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe Colors Finale

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also.It's just colors and vibes here. It's been a chaotic journey, but it finally ends today, most likely with a character death, so . . .

Disclaimer: I'm just screaming this entire post.

Surprising absolutely no one, Barbara immediately forgave Charles. Like I wrote last week, I'll hold this grudge for both of us, Babe.

If this bastard is still alive by the end of this, there is no justice in the world.

Did he just give them a key to get out? They could just walk through a door, but . . . I'll take it. Kentana is trying to redeem himself. Now, KILL YOUR SHITTY FATHER, and you will earn the top place in my heart.

Don't do it, Way Way. Don't. I see you eyeing that man, but you will take zero bullets for Pete or Babe. Am I clear?! NONE! I don't care if you are wearing white compared to everyone else's black. You will not die. No.

I'm not even going to say shit about these two's colors because BIG RED JUST KILLED A KID!

OH FUCK! HE IS KILLING EVERYONE!

KIMBERLY! I LOVE YOU!

And this is why you deserve to die. Who does something like this? It's not a porn, sir. This is a murder. You're about to die. Not get laid.

WAYMOND, NO! I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING DO THIS! NOOOOOOOOOO!

I know it's blood, but the 'smoke' being red too is great and I need more of it as BIG RED DIES FOR KILLING WAY WAY!

Y'all are letting Big Red talk too much while Way Way is just bleeding out on the floor, and I just need one of y'all to apply pressure to the wound so Way has a fighting chance. Please for the love of God. PLEASE! LET WAY LIVE!

Oh, shit, this is awful. Do NOT think about any good memories with this man who wore red in the past but no longer does for some wacky reason. Those memories are all tainted. He is awful. KILL HIM ALREADY AND GET WAY WAY TO THE HOSPITAL!

I HATE HIM! Barbara, don't you trade your life for Charles. Don't fucking do it. Charles came back from the dead once. He can do it again. KILL BIG RED ALREADY!

OH MY FUCKING GOD, YES! I LOVE KENTA! KILL HIM!

YOU KILLED YOUR SHITTY FATHER! YOU'VE DONE WHAT NO OTHER BL BOY HAS EVER DONE!

YOU WON MY HEART!

Now, someone go hug him! Pete what the fuck are you doing?! One boyfriend is dying and another is breaking down. DO SOMETHING, PETER!

I knew this was going to happen! I knew Way was gonna die taking a bullet for Babe. I knew it, and I'm still upset! WHY?! Why can't Peter have TWO boyfriends?! Why do we always have to kill someone to redeem them and to cancel them out of the poly plot equation. LET POLY HAPPEN!

Fuck, Alan is crying.

FUCK!

I will not be pacified with Jeffrey finally being consumed by blue. I'm still very upset about Way Way having to die instead of Peter just having two boyfriends.

Vegas' Hedgehog, I'm so over your ass! Red flowers?! At Way's funeral?! That is sooooo rude! What is wrong with you?! Read the room, you pretty bitch! RED IS OUT! Way died for the blue! THE BLUE!

I hate this necklace. I hate that Way is dead instead of being taken care of by his two boyfriends. Where the hell is Ken anyway?! Why is he not holding Peter's hand right now? WHAT IS THIS LIE?!

I trust your dad, Barbie, because he is wearing blue, but you have had to cry a thousand tears this episodes, and I pray like GMMTV's First, you stay hydrated because crying can wreck havoc on a thirsty body.

Y'all cannot fuck the grief away in the blue. You can try, but Waymond is still gonna be dead instead of having two boyfriends. This is a real problem, and I want it addressed. RIGHT NOW!

KIMBERLY! YOU'RE BLUE NOW!

Everyone is in blue, and then we have Vegas' fucking Hedgehog in those damn orange pants, and . . . AHHHHHHH *starts throwing clothes around the room and out the window*

Barbie is lighter. He is still black, but now he has the white mixed with it while he looks longingly into the eyes of his Blue Boy (who lied to him several times including lying about his death, pero I'll carry this grudge for both of us, Barbara)

Now why the fuck are you wearing red, Alan?! Why won't this show just let me have nice things?!

So . . . now that this is all over and I, unsurprisingly, did NOT get poly nor Kenta x Pete, I will be unblocking the tags because seeing black boxes on my dash is driving me crazy, and I need to reblog some GIFs of Kimberly, Alan, and Waymond x Peter x Kentana to fill this huge void in my heart where a poly plot would have perfectly fit.

I will never go back and watch this show with subs. Never. Whatever I got from it was exactly what I needed to get from it, and I need nothing else. Because what I got was a boy FINALLY deciding to

KILL HIS SHITTY FATHER

Kenta, you deserve my respect. You loved Pete. You helped all the guys in your own way. You killed your shitty dad. You committed queer wrongs, and I forgive every single one of them. You deserve a happy life, and I hope you are laying in Pete's bed with his arms around you thinking about what y'all will have for breakfast, so he can read your mind and go make it for you.

I like you.

I respect you.

I love you.

And so does Pete.

GIVE ME POLY, DAMN IT!

#pit babe #pit babe the series #the colors mean things #and they guided me the whole way through #color coded boys in love #episode 13 #Give me poly already! #Kenta is my favorite now

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Who are you? I love you | {UzuRen}

Theme: Fluff

Note: The wheel originally chose death angst but I re-rolled it bc the last UzuRen I wrotewas death angst so.. here's some fluff (this is if Kyojuro lived, and Tengen was never a Hashira (this is an AU please don't kill me I'm just doing what the wheel said-))

Tengen wasn't a Hashira bc he stayed as the Shinobi (ninja thingy i forget) for longer and when he became a demon slayer, he'd not gotten a chance to come across a 12 kizuki/didn't have enough time to kill 50(?) demons (I'm aware that Tengen is rlly strong and shit so he would've risen in ranks faster if he had more time :>)

Kyojuro was there, when Muzan was defeated. He was there and he was alive. He looked around at all the people around him. He smiled in a sort of sad way because they'd lost so many people. 

He moved through the crowds, finding himself admist a group of demon slayers. He smiled at them nodding as they asked if he was okay—he had wounds that definitely needed tending to, but they weren't the worst acquired by everyone else and he wanted other people to be helped first. The group of demon slayers seemed in awe of him, knowing he was a Hashira. 

Eventually they had to go to help the other people around since they hadn't been injured as much, but one of them stayed, curious of Kyojuro. 

"What's your name?" the demon slayer asked. He was taller than Kyojuro with a bandage over his eye—presumably where he'd acquired a wound. 

"Rengoku Kyojuro," the Hashira informed him, the smile still playing on his face. "And you? Don't you want to go off with your friends?"

"Eh," the demon slayer said, shrugging. "I'll go to them in a minute. I'm Uzui Tengen. Former Shinobi. I honestly wish I'd had more time to become a Hashira, you know?"

"You look like you might," Kyojuro pointed out. "When did you get into the demon slayer corps?"

"Not long ago," Tengen said, sighing. "Well, at least now my wives won't worry about me. They've worried ever since I've become a demon slayer—as if being a ninja was any better," he said with a short laugh.

"Yeah. Wait—wives? Ninja?" Kyojuro asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yes, why?"

"How old are you?!" Kyojuro said, then quickly apologized.

Tengen grinned. "I'm only 23, why?"

"You.. You said wives. Plural." Kyojuro crossed his arms, confused.

"Tradition," Tengen waved off. "Doesn't matter."

"..Okay. Well, I'm 20," Kyojuro said, changing the subject. 

"Nice, when did you become Hashira? Or, uh, demon slayer?"

"Don't know, age become a blur when your focus is on making sure no one dies because you made a mistake," he said. He said it in a light tone, but it really wasn't anything 'light.' 

"True."

They stared at each other for a beat, then someone called out Tengen's name and he turned. A woman was waving him over and he shouted back her name—at least that's what Kyojuro assumed—and told her he'd be there in a minute. 

"Right, got to go," Tengen said, sighing. 

"Mhm! See you around," Kyojuro smiled.

He watched Tengen run up to the woman and hug her, before they went off to find someone, it seemed. Kyojuro kept his eyes on the man for a moment, then turned away to help the others with bringing people to safety. 

"God, why does he have to be married," Kyojuro muttered, pushing his hair back. He weaved through the rubble and found an injured demon slayer. He picked her up and carried her to the place where the wounded lay. 

Giyuu walked up beside him, looking defeated. 

"Oh, hello, Tomioka," Kyojuro said brightly. 

"Hi."

"Are you okay? Did you get any more injured than you were before Kamado?" he asked, concerned. 

"No." 

"You lost an arm? I'm sorry.." Kyojuro said, noticing the bandage wrapped around the end of what was left of Giyuu's arm. 

"It's okay. Are you alright? The other Hashira are.. not. Shinazugawa is unconscious but the Kakushi are tending to him. They say if he was a regular person he would've died, but because he's a Hashira he will have a chance to survive," Giyuu informed him, his expression remaining in it's usual impassive state, though a tone of tiredness clouded it. 

"Ah.." 

Both Hashira looked out in the crowd of people, bustling about. It almost could've looked normal if there was not a great amount of fallen demon slayers and blood and broken down buildings. 

Kyojuro turned back to Giyuu, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I met this demon slayer! His name is Uzui." 

"Uzui? Sounds familiar," Giyuu murmured, his eyes still scanning the people around him. 

"Oh?"

"This woman was crying because she couldn't find her husband, I think. Said her name was, uh," Giyuu paused, thinking. "Uzui something. Started with an 's'? Sumi? Suma? Something like that."

"Oh, well, Uzui said he had several wives. And he's only 23," Kyojuro remarked.

"Really? Who has the time to marry?" Giyuu asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Dunno."

The lapsed back into silence and continued watching around, helping the occasional Kakushi who walked past them. Then Kyojuro pointed off to a person who was surrounded by a group of people, all of them talking. 

"The one in the midde? White hair? That's Uzui," he said to Giyuu.

"Ah. Are the women his wives?"

"I don't know, he never said who they were. Or how many."

"You sound disappointed," the Water Hashira said, turning to Kyojuro. 

"Disappointed?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I'm not," Kyojuro said, a nervous laugh tracing his words.

"No?"

"No, no, I'm not."

"Suit yourself." Giyuu paused. "If you like him, best tell his wives first." Then he left, walking towards the direction the Kamado siblings sat. 

If you like him, best tell his wives first. 

Kyojuro sighed and leaned against a particularily large piece of concrete. He supposed he shouldn't fall for someone he just met. What was the point? 

And of course, the person just had to be married. To several people. Just great.

~~~

Tengen grinned as his wives explained how Suma had dropped her plate and had caused the whole restaurant to erupt in chaos somehow. 

By now, it was the demon slayer corps all healing from the losses and celebrating Muzan's defeat. About a month had gone by and Tengen and his wives had gotten into helping everyone with the excuses and the rebuilding and the burying and healing. 

And though it had been so long, Tengen's mind constantly wandered back to the Hashira. The Flame Hashira with hair like fire whose smile seemed to brighten everyone. He'd seen Kyojuro around when he'd been helping and they talked every now and then. 

But not enough to sooth Tengen's terrible want. 

Which he hated himself for. He didn't want to want. He had three wives for fuck's sake! He turned where he stood and Hinatsuru, startled, stumbled back.

"Oh shit, sorry," he mumbled. "I'm going to go buy some food, alright?"

His wives nodded, confused. "Okay, bye!" Suma said cheerfully, glad for the change of subject.

"Bye," he agreed, smiling and grabbing his bag. 

~~~

Kyojuro walked silently down the street, tired. He'd had a long day today, pushing himself to the limits to help as much around as he could. He probably shouldn't have done that much but he needed to take his mind off of Tengen.

And it didn't work. Unfortunately.

He turned the corner, his eyes on the ground. Then he realized he was about to bump into someone and looked up just in time before he nearly crashed right into Tengen who was holding a bag and apparently rushing somewhere.

"Uzui?" Kyojuro asked, startled. "Sorry, are you going somewhere?"

"Well, I said I would be so I probably should. You?"

"Nope. Mostly on my way home, but I don't think I'm needed there at the moment so I was just walking. You know?"

"Ah, right." Tengen nodded, smoothing his hair. "Uhh, want to go to the store with me?"

Yes, yes he did. He should say no, but.. "Sure, why not?"

Kyojuro smiled and Tengen smiled back. 

"Great!"

~~~

Tengen couldn't believe his luck. Which, at the moment, he was unsure if that was meant negatively or positively. He loved being with Kyojuro for one thing, but he needed something to stop him from being so focused on the Hashira. He shouldn't be falling in love with someone when he already had wives..

He took his time as he walked side by side Kyojuro. They talked a bit as they headed to the store, finding themselves at peace. 

"Have anything to do this weekend?" Tengen asked, changing the subject.

"No, why?"

"Want to come over to my house? I need something to do. Too much time to think and thinking is boring," Tengen said, shrugging.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Which day? When?" Kyojuro asked.

Tengen shook his head. "What day do you want? I'm free both, from what I know."

"Alright! What about, uh, saturday? Sunday, if I manage it, I'm planning to convince Senjuro and my father to go somewhere with me. Is that okay?" Kyojuro suggested.

"Yes! I mean, uh, yep. So in two days. Cool. Where should I pick you up at?"

"What about the park? The one a block away from here?" Kyojuro suggested.

"Alright."

Tengen smiled, happy with this. 

Kyojuro smiled back, not knowing what was going through Tengen's mind right now.

~~~

He seemed take longer to get ready this time, as Kyojuro fixed his hair. It was saturday and he was going to see Tengen. He honestly couldn't wait, couldn't help day dreaming about what it might be like to spend the day with Tengen and not just mindless conversations while they worked. 

He left the house with a smile and made his way to the park happily. Tengen was there waiting for him and he took him to his house. 

Tengen introduced Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio to Kyojuro more properly and Kyojuro found that they were really sweet women. They didn't seem to mind at all when Tengen had hugged him. They had snacks ready for Kyojuro who took it gratefully—finding that it was Tengen's wives who had made it. It had been "UMAI!" as he'd declared. 

As time passed on and they were having fun, Kyojuro went to the bathroom. When he came back, he paused in front of the door, hearing Tengen and his wives speaking in hushed tones.

"Tengen, we don't mind that you like him too! He's really nice," Hinatsuru assured the man. 

"Really?" Tengen asked, sounding surprised. 

"Of course!" Suma decided. "He also said our cooking was delicious. He's so sweettt!!"

Tengen laughed softly. "Yes, he's amazing!" 

Kyojuro smiled to himself. 

Makio paused. "Just don't forget about us and you can date him," she ordered, putting her hands on her hips. 

"Deal," Tengen said, smiling. Then he flinched and his wives surrounded him, worried. "No, no, I'm fine. Just.. Kyojuro?" 

Makio nodded. "Yes, that's who we've been talking about, right..?"

"Yeah. I meant, uh, Kyojuro. I think he just heard what we said," Tengen murmured.

Kyojuro jolted, surprised. He opened the door sheepishly, looking guilty. "Yes, I did.. Sorry.."

{Word count: 1829}

I'M EVILLL 

imma do a part 2 MAYBE 😊

The wheel's choice: Eavesdropping, Future AU, Strangers to lovers

#uzuren #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fluff #sillyness #uzui tengen #kny au #kny rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer rengoku #tengen's wives

[sweetdreamsbuck]

What about dancing in the rain with Bucky 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

cloudburst

bucky x f!reader

wc: 906 (sorry)

a/n: sorry these are taking longer than i expected! i have been so busy <3 reblogs and comments are appreciated

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

“Shit, it wasn’t supposed to rain!”

You’re right Bucky, this isn’t rain.

It’s a torrential downpour. The loud boom of thunder in the distance emphasizes your thought with a mocking glimmer, grey clouds spreading, drifting to illuminate the congested sky above.

Another gust of wind briskly delivers rapids; Bucky’s eyebrows pull impossibly tight, lining his large sulking eyes. Pure dejection mars his features, a whined whirlpool of profanities huffs past his lips as he effortlessly pulls you into his protective hold. “Aw Buck no, don’t do that– no pouting!”

His hand collects the blanket in one heroic sweep, ignoring your plea as he tosses it over his shoulder, the spoiled pastries and stray copy of Brontë’s finest– now of questionable merit– strewn inside. The wet touch of metal wraps its way down your arm, tugging you into a messy sprint.

Bucky's hips repeatedly collide against you as rainfall pelts down on your skin with the same ferocity as the dismay rolling off his body. Mumbles of his hatred for the weather– no good weatherman and the job he can’t do, my girl’s all wet now because of an idiot– drown out your giggles, prevent him from seeing that brilliant smile of yours that would show just how perfect it was being here with him.

The heavens seem to open, cracking loud, a new chill saturating the very little left of the air around you. Grass and leaves kick at your heel, discomforts of dirt and water jumping to compete from sky, to skin, to Bucky and back again.

Even through the terrible visibility, it’s impossible to look anywhere but at Bucky. He’s a picture– soaked, a skintight shirt clinging to every muscle and soft bump alike, his blue eyes glowing as a refuge in the storm even past the agitated swirls rising in them. Bucky’s just that– a safe place, a gentle fortress standing firm in the middle of even the most severe tempest.

Your palms cradle his bicep, planting your legs and urging him to stop.

“What’re you, the car’s only a few–”

“Dance with me.”

His eyes narrow, flicking back and forth hastily between your own. But your hands cup his jaw, ground his focus to that of your honest request, not a hint of irony alive in your tender touch. It strokes at his pulse, rubs the spots just below his ears that quell his shakes of disbelief before they fester further.

It’s impossible to deny you anything– not when you speak in that sweet voice– beaming up at him like he’s the only reason you’re standing.

But it’s pouring. “Here? You’ll get sick– I c”

“Please,” you uncurl his fist from the bundle over his shoulder, tossing it to the ground. Arms rest atop his shoulders, purposeful hands wrapping softly together around the dripping hair at the nape of his neck. You smile, a soft, teasing thing only for him to see, and fuck it’s radiant. He’s never felt more alive basking in it, all while you continue easing circles down the span of his neck, faintly prompting him to sway. Another request to dance leaves your lips, an irresistible “please, baby,” anchoring deep within the depths of his stomach.

He gives in immediately, gave in with no hesitancy, his hard features softening the moment you gazed at him– you twist away with a squeal. Flesh and metal hurriedly find your waist, tightly clinging to your hips when you start spinning, leaving no choice but to follow after you and the sprite melody of laughter leaving your lips.

His cheeks split into a broad smile, unable to contain his joy at the beauty maniacally giggling, carelessly, as if she’s lived a thousand lifetimes here in his arms and would live a thousand more. Bucky envelops your frame tightly, whirling you faster and faster around the open field, beyond drenched and frozen. Weightlessly, you throw your arms from his neck towards the sky’s heaviness around you.

“Gorgeous,” he laughs. So absolutely gorgeous, he thinks– has he ever felt this breathless, this delighted?

His confession warms you, thought of the roaring storm or the icy sting that won’t leave your bones for hours to come ceases to exist. Your hands find his chest, drenched but familiar as ever, firm and impossible to do anything but cling to as Bucky’s intoxicating scent and heat take the lead in your dance.

Strong hands embrace you, your soaked hair resting contently in the safety of his chest, just below his chin like you were made to fall there again and again. Bucky nuzzles close, fitting his soft kiss to your temple. A quiet hum rumbles in his chest while your fingers trail up his neck, lulling him alongside the tranquil sweep of your motions.

“Wasn’t pouting…” he admits, bashful and gooey under your caress, soothing the skin of his ear in gentle reassurance. Bucky’s lips never leave your skin.

“Sure you weren’t.” You’ll annoy him about it later.

Bucky slides his fingers up your arm, reaching for your hand. He teases a quick promise to your knuckles before spinning you out, then tugging your angelic giggles gently back home to bury within his chest.

His heart recognizes yours, thumping in time as one while you melt against his body perfectly. Bucky can't help but silently wish for rain more often, swaying you both slowly to the song of your laughter bouncing between the storm clouds.

So gorgeous.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader

[kingofpopmj]

STOP YOU ARE SO REAL FOR THAT

I keep forgetting the Dirty Diana video and honestly half the time I’m glad about it because when I do watch it, he leaves me in SHAMBLES.

His back is so god damn strong (and for what????) and that toe stance also ruins me.

He’s got me 3 different kinds of f*cked up and somehow a secret 4th way.

I remember seeing those hip thrusts in the Bad video and I was floored. FLOORED I TELL YOU. My ass was done for and I didn’t even realize it.

I had such a deep love for him for years as a teen, like a solid 5 years. Back then it was all “aw he’s so cute he’s so funny” basic teenage girl stuff.

I never stopped love him but a few months ago I discovered how deeply I feel that love because I’ve moved from that teenage crush to actually spending more time learning about him, who he truly was, and the true extent of his loving, kind, generous character.

He’s a truly empathetic person, and there will never be anyone like him. I’m torn between feeling eternally grateful that I had the opportunity to live at the same time as this man but absolutely shattered that he is no longer here.

I might sound INSANE but it was almost like there was a different energy in the world when we still had him.

ANYWAY, I’m sorry I’m just feeding into this spiral but it’s ok cause I’m spiraling with you.

Oh and that last ask was also me 😈

🌸Flora🌸

Flora, take my hand..

There’s no turning back now.

I’m convinced he practiced moves in front of the mirror and would be like that’s it- that’s the one. They are gonna fall apart seeing me do this.

They won’t be able to handle this shit. Let me do it 89556767900 times. He loved seeing people faint at the sight of him. I’m convinced.

That man. Everything he did was so calculated.

Respect boo 😘

But also..

Okay… hear me out…

Who tf told Mr. Jackson this shit was safe for my well being.

This actively affects my health.

When I drift off in the middle of conversations this is why! The addition of the knee pads. Stop. But also keep going.

Like who does he think he is. Why does he insist on pushing me further over the edge?

The worst part is I’m not even really mad.

Continue to push me King.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s such a beautiful person. It makes my heart happy seeing how deeply so many people love him. His memory being kept alive is so important. I genuinely believe Michael makes people better whether they see it or not. A little bit of his magic rubs off on each of us and we carry it with us and share it with everyone we meet. Maybe it’s cheesy, but I like to believe it, that some of his love is still alive on this earth.

I 100% agree with you. The world feels so different without him. There is an emptiness. When he was on this earth it felt like things would be okay you know? There was hope. He gave so much to the world. I’m very grateful for that, even though some didn’t deserve it, they needed it. We needed him.

Side note: I seriously struggle speaking about Michael in past tense, so sometimes I speak about him like he’s here or I’ll go back and forth between past and present tense. In case I ever do that just thought I’d say this.

#michael jackson #michael joseph jackson #king of pop #bad tour #bad era

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

Thoughts on DFF EP 11

I think this was a much more solid episode then last one. Although the pacing and structure of EP 9-10-11 as been a mess. I think EP 10 is the problem here, because EP 9 had present and flashback same as EP 11, but EP 10 only had a brief moment of "flashback" during Phee's monologue.

I think a much better structure would have required the series to have an episode 9 and 10 to be much longer, like an hour and half. So that we could have gotten the present scenes of episode 10 split between episodes 9 and 11.

But overall I really enjoyed this episode. We got a lot of Tee's moments. And while I appriciate the fact that he tried to be better, and while I loved TeeWhite (and I would love if BOC cast the two actors in a "proper" BL series) I still think it was a bit too little too late. And I also love they included the moment with Perth directely calling out Tee on why is he guilty now? Why do you give a shit now? I thought that was very good. And it's very telling that the only person that started to feel proper guilt was Tee, the only other poor character. Jin felt some guilt, but clearly not enough, and not as much as Tee.

I am nervous about the ending still, mostly because an ending where Non and New are both dead, the boys are alive and get to try to be better, maybe be honest about what happened, suffer "just" consequences by the legal system (optional) will feel cheap and emotionally unsatasfying. Simply put, we have seen Non and New suffer too much, if those characters end the series dead, then they all must die, no exceptions. Because seeing the poor characters get shafted and be dead while the well off character get to go back to their normal life and try to be better will feel insulting and awful. And will undermine the message the show is clearly trying to deliever.

That said I think they could do a finale where no more people die. They just need to do it well.

RAPID FIRE THOUGHTS:

Non is alive I will stay on that clown car until the last second of the credits of the last episode. IF by the end of the credits of the last episode of DFF Non is still dead, then I will concide, not a moment sooner.

I am 90% convinced that White is just an innocent bystandard. But I can't help that 10% thinking it's a mighty coincidence that White started to connect with Tee right after Non "died".

Phee is still a traitor and still on my shit list. I don't need him to be ok with murder, but I do consider his bellyflopping and forgiveness of Jin an indicator of his character, and that character sucks.

Also again it has to be said, I understand these are teenagers, but they made choices and now must live with the consequences all of them, and also this is a fictional narrative and I am still totally ok with the murder of these fictional characters.

#txt #dead friend forever

[ferretwhomst]

Ask and you shall receive- this one's a bit of a softer thought, I can't help thinking about how parallel Ford and Portal Stan's losses/issues kindof compliment each other in a kindof good way.

Portal Stan being upset and regretful about his fight with his Ford, talking about how he shouldn't have been such a stubborn ass, how he wished he'd just taken the book and left. And parallel Ford immediately refuting that because no, you had every right to be angry. We hadn't spoken in ten years, I should've given you more information, I should've paid attention! You're my brother, you're supposed to be the most important thing to me, who cares if my journal is safe if you're not?!

Maybe Portal Stan wonders if his Ford would still be alive if he took the journal. Doesn't matter if Stan ended up gone, it worth it if Ford is still around. Parallel Ford, knowing just how many nights he's spent thinking of flinging himself into an active portal, quietly refutes it. No, no he doesn't think that would've changed anything either. Not in the long run.

And then we have parallel Ford grappling with the guilt of how he neglected his Stan, how he ignored him for ten years and then even longer after that, how he never bothered to check or ask or help him! What kind of brother is he? He wants to make things up now that he sortof has a second chance with Portal Stan but does he even deserve that? He's an awful brother, Stan should go live a normal happy life and leave him to rot. And when hearing that Portal Stan is like hey, hey don't say that. I'm gonna be honest, even if you had noticed and you had asked, I probably wouldn't have told ya. I still keep thinking about how I'm 'riding off your coattails' and even if I didn't, I would never want ya to know about the stuff that happened to me. It ain't that simple. Plus you were half outta your mind Pointdexter, can't blame yourself for not bein' rational. Listen, my Ford pushed me into a godamn portal and you know what the main thought on my mind was? How I couldn't wait to get back home and reunite with him. I forgave him a long damn time ago so if I can do that, you can forgive yourself. You think you're not the kind of person who deserves this? Then do something about it. Be the kind of brother you want to be, cuz throwin' your life away ain't gonna fix anything. Far as I'm concerned though, don't matter whether you deserve it or not. The only thing I ever wanted was to be with you and that ain't gonna change any time soon.

YES. YESSSS. HOLY SHIT. ABSORBS THIS DIRECTLY INTO MY BLOODSTREAM PERMANENTLY.

Y'KNOW. one of the things i really like about the blood brothers au is that their situations allow them to both see the worst in themselves.

at first, stan looks at ford and sees a version of his brother who's doing just fine without him, flourishing even- unable to see, let alone empathize with the deep pool of guilt behind that quirky professor persona. ford looks at stan and, like you said, all he sees is the second chance he's been waiting for, but that he doesn't think he deserves. this stan is cold and harsh, adapted to the unruly life of dimension-hopping, shrewder than ever- and ford thinks to himself, oh. even in an alternate dimension, i can't help but ruin stan's life with my own selfishness. assumptions are made, confessions go unsaid...

...and YET, when they're ready to reconcile, and they get to talking, they know exactly how to comfort one another. they understand exactly how the other feels and what they need to hear- no more "what ifs" and "if onlys". it's so. ughghghggh. <3 they may not be each other's stan and ford but they sure are brothers.

#i wasn't kidding when i say they make each other worse and better at the same time! #also if you couldn't tell i FUCKING LOVE miscommunication #. as a trope i mean. lmao #asks #ferret rambles #gravity falls #blood brothers au #stan pines #portal stan #ford pines #parallel ford #better world ford #stan twins #stangst

[periwinkle--daydreams]

Baddest of the Bad: Elden Ring Edition (Finale)

Number 1: THE LOATHSOME DUNG EATER!

"Have you ever felt the curse? With your whole being, the pox upon life itself. Feared and despised by all. The Reviled blessing. Apparently not. You are but a lamb. A stranger to defilement. Ignorant to your own ignorance.  You no longer interest me. I've been long without peace. Don't spoil my quietude."

I like how Elden Ring players and their relationship with the Dung Eater follows an amusing little cycle: laughing at his name during the narration and writing him off as some weird pervert who was kinkshamed to death, probably the Messytails of the Lands Between... and being horrified upon meeting him and realizing that he's a complete fucking monster and easily the most evil character in the game.

An infamous serial killer, the Dung Eater has racked up god knows how many victims, subjecting them to torture and defilement that is so awful that their souls don't return to the Erdtree and reincarnate upon death. Instead, they're doomed to live cursed existences as Omens (or beings similar to them), and will bear cursed children that will turn bear more cursed children for generations to come. And those are just the souls that actually turn into Omens: when the Dung Eater astral projects into the Roundtable Hold, sweet and innocent Roderika can sense the screaming souls of people that seem to be stuck inside his body and envelop him as some sort of tortured living aura a'la Imperfect Cell.

It's no secret that this game and others in FromSoft's catalogue take a bit of inspiration from Kentaro Miura's Berserk, albeit not to the degree that many assume they do. Still, part of me feels like the Dung Eater was inspired by Wyald: both are disgusting, depraved, psychopathic monsters who live to defile and murder others to the point to where they're the only things they seem to find enjoyment in. Hell, the Dung Eater's ugly-ass face beneath his helmet kind of reminds me of Wyald's in a way.

But while Wyald's an animal who proudly boasts that he kills and rapes for fun, the Dung Eater seems to view his own atrocities as a sacred duty. A sacred duty he really enjoys, mind you, but he still conducts himself like a holy man bestowing blessings upon others. I mean, when he uses the Sword of Milos' ash of war and unleashes a bunch of wraiths, he screams "BLESS YOU!" for crying out loud! His mindset is warped, alien, and utterly inhuman: he thinks he has to be as reviled and disgusting as he is, and he seeks to corrupt the very concept of Order into one where everyone is as disgusting and hideous as him.

And if you, for some god-forsaken reason, see his sidequest to the end (one that will lead to the mutilation, cursing, and death of Blackguard Boggart, probably one of the most likeable characters in the game, if you don't take serious precautions beforehand), you can create a Mending Rune that will do exactly that, and will spread the curse to the Elden Ring and thus, reality itself. While birthing the rune kills him and ensures that he won't be alive to see the results of his handiwork, he dies enraptured knowing that he created something that can defile the very world to its core. And surprise surprise, helping out the sociopathic serial killer who tortures people, defiles their corpses, and eats shit is possibly the worst ending for the Lands Between.

I've seen some argue that this ending isn't all that bad since his motivation ultimately boils down to wanting to turn everyone into Omens, who are touched by the Crucible and thus are holy beings who are only suffering because they're discriminated against for being born in the wrong age. But while the Omens are indeed victims of horrible and unfair discrimination, I think it's safe to say that they're still genuinely cursed. Their blood is repeatedly described as such, and as seen when Morgott suddenly pukes up a bunch of it during his boss fight, it gets painful when it acts up. They're also tormented by wraiths, and are regularly plagued by shared nightmares of a horrifying demon. Even if the Golden Order treated them fairly, Omen life would still suck.

Plus, while we don't really get a good look at the Blessing of Despair outside of the sky turning into a giant fart cloud (curse this game's Mass Effect 3-style endings outside of Frenzied Flame and Ranni), the narrator makes it clear that the age you usher in is one of unending torture and misery, and we're given no reason to doubt it.

And this is all assuming that the Dung Eater's curse is literally the Omen curse, and not some twisted offshoot that amplifies the pain and suffering its victims are subjected to. His ending would be even worse if that was indeed the case.

I'll give the Dung Eater this: he's honest. He never lies to you or tries to use honeyed words to win you over, he's very matter-of-fact about being a disgusting monster and that releasing him from his cell and helping him out will end very, very badly. But that's the one good thing you can say about him. He's pure evil to his core, and he doesn't have a single truly redeeming quality to his name. He doesn't have the sad backstory of Mohg, the pitiable aspects of Godrick, or even people that he loves and cares for like Rykard did with Tanith and his siblings (pre-snakeification, at least, jury's out on if that still applies). He doesn't even truly care about the Omens that he tries so hard to emulate: he projects his disgusting and depraved worldview onto them and has deluded himself into thinking that he's just like them because they too are hated by society.

To paraphrase one of my favorite Breaking Bad quotes, he's an insane, degenerate piece of filth, and he deserves to die. Or be turned into a puppet with Seluvis' potion, since that actually scares him.

#the loathsome dung eater #elden ring #elden ring spoilers #hydrox rambles #rambling about bad guys

[lucky-clover-gazette]

it's dangerous to go alone

two years after shadow and vio's evil takeover, the gang reunites for dinner. this is a multi-chapter continuation of the oneshot "thank darkness for that," which introduces a corruption-type au that's actually super chill. definitely read the one-shot before following this one!

chapter 7 of 7: the final boss (4441 words)

Red takes Blue by the hand, leading them both to a large painting on the wall opposite from where they entered. It looks out-of-place with its ornate frame, and a small golden plaque that Red currently obscures.

“All art is good art,” Red remarks, “but this composition still feels wrong.”

Blue cocks his head, sizing up the piece. It’s a nighttime scene in dark blues and greys, depicting a tree-lined path leading towards a dark mountain.

“There should be something in the foreground,” Red continues. “It’s weird, but I feel like I’ve seen this somewhere before…”

“Guys!” shouts Shadow across the room, although Blue can’t quite bring himself to look away from the painting. “I think I know who’s been living down here!”

“Oh,” Red says quietly, something in his voice breaking Blue out of his trance. “There’s a plaque.”

Red steps backwards, finally allowing Blue to read the name of the strange painting:

Evil Spirit from Beyond

PHANTOM TINGLE.

read the rest on ao3 or under the cut:

“So we just have to insert the swords, right?” Blue asks, sizing up the puzzle-lock on the dungeon’s (hopefully) final door.

“Only one way to find out,” Green says, sliding his sword into one of the four slots. They hear a loud click and Red follows suit.

Green cups his hand around his mouth and turns his head. “Hey, Vio! We need your sword!”

The Kings of Hyrule rejoin the group hand in hand. Seeing Vio, Red beams.

“Finally, you’re wearing it!”

Vio sheepishly rubs the back of his now-exposed neck. “The scrunchie is really nice, Red. Thank you again.”

“I can make more, as long as we survive!”

With that somber reminder, Blue takes a deep breath and relinquishes his sword. Vio does the same.

The Links are no longer surprised by the puzzle-solve jingle, but they certainly aren’t expecting the sudden appearance of a whole other door. But there it is, right beside the large now-unlocked door, as if there’s always been an easy way out.

“That’s weird,” Zelda says, cracking it open. Daylight pours into the dark hallway, and Blue has so many questions about the teleportation magic holding this entire dungeon together. How is Tingle capable of this? And why is he only doing it now?

Zelda cranes her head. “It leads to the woods outside Castle Town.”

“No shit?” Shadow asks, joining her. “Well, no shit.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Vio says, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not letting Tingle take the throne. He wants me to play his game—so I’ll play, and I’ll win.”

Blue watches Shadow take his husband’s side. “Right there with you. Who knows if we’d be able to get into Castle Town, anyway? Tingle could have turned the entire Royal Guard against us already.”

Vio nods. “That’s what I would do in his place. I’d then put out a cash reward for us, dead or alive, and make sure everyone in Castle Town knows it.”

Red turns to him with deep concern. “You’re kinda evil, Vio.”

“Yeah, Red, I know.”

“But why would Tingle even include this door in the first place?” Green asks no one in particular. “Seems counter-intuitive to the whole ‘making us betray each other’ theme we’ve seen so far.”

Blue crosses his arms over his chest. “I think it makes perfect sense—kind of a final ‘screw-you’ to Vio and Shadow, giving us the chance to abandon them while they have no choice but to clean up their mess.”

Vio’s gaze is razor-sharp. “So, will you?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Aw, Blue,” Red coos, taking his hand. “I’m so proud of you!”

Blue, ironically, can feel himself turn red. “I… shut up.”

Zelda locks eyes with Shadow. “You already know I’m staying. Green, you too, I assume?”

“Yep,” he answers, not even skipping a beat.

Shadow looks from Zelda to the room’s only other occupants. “We should tell our new friends what’s going on, don’t you think?”

She gives him a thumbs-up, addressing the four hinoxes who appear to have started a game of cards during Vio’s emotional outburst-monologue-apology. “We think the next room is the last,” Zelda informs the group. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. There’s a door out of here and you’re welcome to use it.”

The largest of the four crosses his arms over his chest and gives the hinox closest to him a look. She only shrugs, while the smallest of the group seems to struggle with her words.

“I think it’s just… I’m not really a fighter,” she eventually says, and the hinox beside her nods in agreement. “I want to help you all, and I’m not very happy I was used in this weird dungeon thing, but…”

“It’s okay,” Shadow tells the group. “You’ve already been put in enough danger on our behalf.”

“Good luck out there,” Shadow tells the hinoxes as they head for the door. “Hopefully we’ll see you soon.”

“Hopefully not,” the largest says kindly, “but we still appreciate your help. Good luck to you all… even the nepotism hire.”

The hinoxes depart without further discussion, and in their absence Green cracks a smile. “So Vio’s the nepotism hire, right?”

The nepotism hire scowls. “I—I’m not! I… well… if you define it in a certain way… never mind. Let’s just figure out a plan before we rush into anything.”

“My plan is to stab whatever’s in there until it dies,” Blue says, already reaching for his sword.

It doesn’t budge.

“Never mind.”

Green reaches for his own weapon with equally discouraging results. “Tingle must want us unarmed.”  

“Wish I had my powers,” Shadow mutters, and then pauses. “Wait. Are my powers, like, permanently gone now?”

Blue and Red wince. “Sorry,” they say in unison.

Shadow takes a deep breath. “It’s only fair, I guess—I relieved you of your burdensome Triforce powers, and you took my super fun and cool Dark World magic. Not like you had a choice, anyway.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Red says, “I can get you in touch with an amateur magician I know from the craft store.”

Vio makes a stink face. “Pull a rabbit out of your hat and we’re getting a divorce.”

“A-ha, but the real trick is that I get to marry you again!”

Green claps his hands together. “Guys, focus. Weapons—what do we have?”

“Red’s got his fireplace poker,” Blue says, and Red raises it enthusiastically. “Put that down, you maniac, you’re going to take someone’s eye out.”

“That’s the plan!”

“Do you still have your stake?” Vio asks Shadow, who shakes his head.

“Nah. Burned up. You?”

“Same, actually.”

Green turns to Zelda. “You still have something, right? From the stolen furniture room?”

She sighs. “Just a fountain pen. Not sure what I was thinking, really.”

Green tries and fails to smile reassuringly. “You never know.”

“I think I should lead,” Red tells Blue, tugging at his sleeve.

Blue frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I know you guys have my back.”

Blue’s heart skips a beat as Red approaches the large door. It opens with a loud creak, revealing a large circular room. The six file inside and allow the door to slam shut behind them.

“It looks empty,” Blue observes, scanning over the space. They appear to be in some kind of servants’ quarters, long abandoned by Hyrule’s current leadership. A few wooden tables litter the center of the room and bunk beds line the walls. The only other doorway is open, seemingly leading to a small kitchen.

“No exits,” Vio says. “What… what is this place?”

“It’s your castle,” Green retorts, not unkindly. “Zelda, any ideas?”

“I don’t think servants have actually lived inside the castle since my grandparents assumed the throne. Everyone has housing in Castle Town.”

Shadow is the first to separate from the group, walking over to the bunk beds. “Looks like one’s unmade.”

Blue watches Vio quickly join his husband’s side, while Green and Zelda search the tables for useful items.

“I think someone’s been living here,” Green says, holding up a glass bottle full of milk. “Smells fresh.”

Red takes Blue by the hand, leading them both to a large painting on the wall opposite from where they entered. It looks out-of-place with its ornate frame, and a small golden plaque that Red currently obscures.

“All art is good art,” Red remarks, “but this composition still feels wrong.”

Blue cocks his head, sizing up the piece. It’s a nighttime scene in dark blues and greys, depicting a tree-lined path leading towards a dark mountain.

“There should be something in the foreground,” Red continues. “It’s weird, but I feel like I’ve seen this somewhere before…”

“Guys!” shouts Shadow across the room, although Blue can’t quite bring himself to look away from the painting. “I think I know who’s been living down here!”

“Oh,” Red says quietly, something in his voice breaking Blue out of his trance. “There’s a plaque.”

Red steps backwards, finally allowing Blue to read the name of the strange painting:

Evil Spirit from Beyond

PHANTOM TINGLE.

Thrown back by a sudden flash of light, Blue and Red scramble towards the center of the room. Green and Zelda help them to their feet, while Vio and Shadow vault over tables to join their friends. The six watch in horror as a spectral form begins to emerge from within the painting.

Hovering a few feet above the ground, a ghostly version of Tingle flashes them a menacing grin. It holds up what Blue first thinks is a sword, but quickly recognizes as a wooden spoon. Phantom Tingle swings the spoon with a grunt, sending a dangerous ball of light in Blue’s direction.

“Guys, scatter!”

As if in slow motion, Red throws himself between Blue and the projectile. He whacks it back with his fireplace poker, temporarily stunning Phantom Tingle with his own attack.

The other four do as they’re told, running to opposites of the large room, but Blue stays at Red’s side. “I’m not leaving you,” he huffs, and scans the surrounding tables for anything he can use to help.

Phantom Tingle sends another attack towards Red, who deflects it flawlessly yet again. Unfortunately this time the boss is prepared, and parries the energy ball for a sequence of nail-biting back-and-forth volleys. It takes a few passes, but Red finally manages to land a hit again.

This time Blue acts, running over to the stunned enemy and throwing a punch as a last resort. He misses the ghost entirely, and to add insult to injury, gets whacked on the head by the wooden spoon.

“Ow!” Blue rubs the point of impact and rolls out of the way as Tingle prepares another energy attack. He watches Red brace himself and then glances back at their enemy, who seems to be taking just a little more time than expected to send out a projectile.

It’s changing the timing, Blue realizes, and knows Red isn’t prepared to respond. A strange instinct causes Blue to snatch up an empty glass bottle and use it to deflect the attack—and despite this being a terrible idea, it somehow fucking works.

Phantom Tingle takes the hit, and this time it’s more than stunned. Red grabs Blue by the arm as the single boss splits into four. The Phantom Tingles, plural, are only distinguishable by the colors of their spectral forms: green, purple, red, and—of course—blue.

It appears they’ve entered the second phase.

─────────────────

“Look out!”

Green dodges at Zelda’s warning, just in time to avoid the green(er than usual) Phantom Tingle’s attack. The enemy taunts him as it zooms around, phasing in and out of thin air. It seems able to turn invisible at will, making it impossible to even tackle.

Beside Green, Zelda narrows her eyes. “Really wish you had your sword right now.”

“Yeah, join the club. And hey, Zel?”

“Yes, Green?”

“Sorry for being a jerk about your dinner party plan. You were right the whole time.”

Zelda turns to face him, her expression soft. “Aw, it’s—OW!”

Out of nowhere, Tingle manages to land a hit—nothing too serious, but enough to tear the fabric of Zelda’s business-casual attire.

“Get behind me,” Green says without hesitation, but Zelda shakes her head. She runs a hand along the now-torn neckline of her dress, scowling… but then her expression shifts.

“Actually,” she tells Green, “you get behind me.”

She withdraws the stolen fountain pen from within her bra and twists it in half, revealing the cartridge inside. Zelda swings half of the pen in an arc, coating their invisible enemy in black ink.

With the other half of the pen—the sharp top half—she brutally stabs Phantom Tingle until it disappears.

Green’s jaw drops as Zelda turns to face him. She tosses the pen pieces over her shoulder with an easy smile.

“Not sure why I ever doubted myself,” she says, and Green thinks she’s the coolest person in the world.

─────────────────

Vio and Shadow take Blue’s command to scatter seriously, ducking inside the small kitchen Tingle has been apparently using on a daily basis. A large pot of pumpkin soup remains on the stove, with an empty potion bottle beside it.

“We should have been paying more attention,” Vio mutters as he crosses over to the oven. He makes sure it’s off, because Hylia forbid Tingle try to murder them and leave the burner on, and then turns back to Shadow across the counter island.

Well, back to Shadow and… Shadow.

“Wait,” Vio says slowly, “I thought you couldn’t shapeshift anymore… which… well, you wouldn’t shapeshift into yourself, even if you could… and there are two of you… I am very confused.”

Both Shadows roll their eyes.

“Purple Tingle flew in here and shapeshifted into me,” explains one of them, while the other crosses his arms.

“No, that’s Purple Tingle, he’s describing what he did.”

Vio looks from one Shadow to the other, already hating where this going.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Kill the imposter!”

“I’m obviously me, Vio, kill him—”

“Both of you, shut up,” Vio says tiredly, picking up a kitchen knife still covered in pumpkin guts. This feels like the third time he’s felt directly responsible for his husband’s potential death tonight—how many times will he have to prove his devotion?

Vio thinks back to earlier, in the throne room, when he’d been so stressed out about the sunlight hitting Shadow at the wrong angle. Then in the chamber of stolen furniture, where they’d both been immobilized, and in the dark hallway, where they’d been forced to separate. He thinks about Zelda, fiercely protective of Shadow, and Red, being kind enough to make him a gift by hand. Vio remembers his own conflicting emotions when Blue had described his time in the Dark World—the revelation that Shadow hadn’t been dying at all, but simply letting go of the darkness that had once defined him.

Vio remembers standing in front of the Dark Mirror, so many years ago, struggling with the mallet’s heavy weight and Shadow’s precious life in his hands.

His grip tightens around the knife.

“I could tell you something only your real husband would know,” one of the Shadows offers, and it could be his Shadow, but there is no guarantee. Vio doubts any single piece of evidence could be reassuring enough for him to hurt either of these creatures.

But if he doesn’t act in his husband’s defense… who will?

“Okay, fuck this.”

Shadow—the real Shadow—rips a frying pan off the kitchen wall and smashes it against the imposter’s skull. Not-Shadow transforms at once, first into a purple ghostly Tingle, and then into nothing at all.

Vio looks at Shadow, dumbfounded. “You… you just…”

Shadow just shrugs, that infallibly irreverent grin on his face. “I know you’d do anything for me, Vio. But I can do things for me too.”

Vio drops the knife, takes a deep breath, and allows himself to be held.

─────────────────

The red Phantom Tingle is basically made of fire, and it’s ironically the one thing Red’s fireplace poker can’t defeat.

He shakes out his hand as the weapon clatters to the ground, its metal far too hot for Red to grip, even by the handle. Whatever makes up this thing, it burns much more intensely than any natural fire. Not even the fire rod could omit this level of heat, and forget destroying the monster—Red has absolutely no idea how he’s even supposed to touch it.

Red steps backwards and catches Blue out of the corner of his eye, struggling with his own color-coded enemy. His Phantom Tingle appears to be made of ice, and he’s having similar trouble figuring out how to approach it.

Until he throws a punch, that is, and is frozen in place.

“Again?” Red exclaims, rushing to his friend/employee/roommate’s aid. As expected, the fiery Tingle follows him right over to Blue, melting him free just by proximity.

“Holy shit,” Blue says and Red envelopes him in a hug.

“Glad you’re okay! But we still have to fight these—”

The red and blue Phantom Tingles collide, instantly defeating each other with opposite elemental energies.

“Oh,” Red remarks. “That makes sense.”

“Really hoping that’s the last phase,” Blue groans as Vio and Shadow exit the kitchen. They look fine, if a little shaken, and Green and Zelda…

“Why are you covered in ink?” Blue asks them. Zelda just grins.

“Fountain pen?” Shadow asks her with a similar expression.

She nods. “Fountain pen.”

“Are we done?” Vio asks the group, and also maybe Hylia herself. “Can we be done now?”

Green shakes his head. “I haven’t heard that noise yet…”

The six stand in a circle at the center of the room, back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back, scanning their surroundings for any sign of Phantom Tingle’s final form.

“Oof.”

Six heads swivel to find a final, life-size Phantom Tingle standing in the center of their circle. He looks up at them all, sheepish, and raises both hands in surrender.

Blue looks to red, already rolling up his sleeves. “I don’t think we need weapons for this, do you?”

Red considers what he had almost lost today—his friends, his life, Blue—and shakes his head. “Nope! But can I say something first?”

“Make it quick,” says Vio, who looks extremely eager to start kicking the shit out of Tingle-once-removed.

Cracking his knuckles, Red smiles. “I just think it’s just really nice we can all work together again.”

─────────────────

One relentless beating later, a new door appears below the Phantom Tingle painting.

“There it is,” Shadow mutters, watching the other Links react to the tune in their heads. Zelda, bless her heart, is still visibly confused by the whole thing.

“Swords,” Blue reminds the group before they can head for the exit. Turning his head, Shadow sees that the lock puzzle seems to have disappeared. The four swords lay unceremoniously on the ground beneath the heavy door.

Shadow follows Vio as he retrieves his weapon. “Glad to have it back?” he asks as the six return to the exit door.

Vio nods. “Yes. I don’t think we’re quite done here, Shadow. There’s still Real Tingle to worry about.”

“We’ve got your back,” Green tells them both. Blue, Red, and Zelda nod in agreement.

Shadow takes a deep breath and reaches for the doorknob. And then—because there’s no use in delaying the inevitable—he opens the door.

“CONGRATULATIONS!”

Shadow is blinded by artificial light, bright colors, and flashes from party decorations. Ironically, when he does manage to see, things makes even less sense—Tingle floats from a balloon before them, flanked by the instantly recognizable faces of castle staff and acquaintances, with a decidedly un-sinister smile on his face.

This can’t seriously be happening, Shadow thinks to himself.

Tingle throws confetti at the stunned six heroes, and by Hylia, this is seriously happening.

“You’re all friends again!” Tingle enthuses, so incredibly earnest that Shadow worries for his immediate safety.

Speaking of which…

“No, Vio, no!” Shadow scolds, already reaching for his husband. It takes the combined might of Shadow, Blue, and Green, but they manage to hold him back.

“I am going to tear you limb from fucking limb, you deranged son of a—“

“Vio!” Shadow repeats, squeezing his arm. “Stop it.”

Vio turns to him, incredulous. “Shadow, he almost killed us all! Multiple times! He basically tortured you, and he took your powers—”

Shadow shakes his head. “I appreciate your passion, beloved, but I can fend for myself. And I gave those up willingly, remember? I told Blue to shatter the mirror.”

“Deep breaths, buddy,” Red tells Vio, who now looks more embarrassed than pissed off.

Shadow watches Zelda pinch the bridge of her nose. “So, Tingle, let me get this straight—you created this entire dungeon, put something in our soup and forced us through an elaborate series of dangerous trials… as a teambuilding exercise?”

Tingle nods, as if that’s the most normal thing a person could possibly do.

Zelda turns to Shadow. “Do you believe him? He’s your employee.”

Shadow thinks back to the time he’s known Tingle, the genuine moments of trust and familiarity he’s felt in the strange little freak’s presence, and...

“Honestly, yeah, I do,” Shadow says, surprising even himself. “We’ve talked a lot about wanting to make things right with you guys—I mean, that was the point of the dinner in the first place.”

“The Kings did say it wouldn’t be an easy task,” Tingle explains. “I went along with the dinner party idea, but really… what else could have brought you all back together?”

“I don’t know,” Vio seethes, “something other than near-death? Something proportionate to the circumstances at hand?”

“My plan was completely proportionate to the circumstances at hand.”

“We did corrupt the world,” Shadow tells Vio, resisting the urge to fix his tousled hair. “Even if it was, like, chill.”

“Hylia, whatever,” Vio groans, shoving off Blue and Green. “I need a drink.”

“What you really need,” Green says, “is a better hiring manager.” He grabs a glass of evil root beer from a  passing castle employee and downs the entire thing in one go.

Shadow acquires drinks for Vio and himself. “Last time I checked, we’re the hiring managers.”

“Well, you’re both atrocious at it. I’m finding a seat.”

“Of course!” Tingle says, ushering the six towards a nicely-decorated table in the center of the room. “I invited everyone you know to celebrate, arranged the catering and everything!”

“Did you also arrange the murder dungeon?” Blue asks dryly, grabbing a mozzarella stick off a banquet table as they pass.

“Because if so, you did a great job!” Red adds, because of course he does.

The six settle at the table, each in a different stage of shock, as Tingle continues to explain his involvement in the evening’s events. “I won’t bore you with the details—”

Vio scoffs. “I sincerely believe there is not a single detail about this night that could be boring.”

“—but I assure you, everything was planned. The hazards, the puzzles, the magic pulling it all together, were all completely controlled circumstances.”

“Uh,” Zelda says, “the hinoxes? Were they in on it?”

Tingle frowns. “Well, hm. No. I kinda left that room until the last minute, so I ended up using extra potion to knock out some landscaping specialists. It wasn’t too hard to do a temporary charm convincing them they were Vaati’s henchpeople.”

“I didn’t even know you could do magic,” Shadow tells Tingle, almost impressed.

“Oh, but I can, with the help of Force Gems and the royal library!”

“I don’t know enough about Force Gems and the royal library to dispute that.”

“It tracks,” Vio admits, clearly hating the words as they leave his mouth.

“But back to the hinoxes,” Zelda says, taking a sip of her drink. “That doesn’t sound very controlled to me. And what about the Dark Mirror, and Blue’s trip to the Dark World? Shadow losing his powers? How could you have anticipated all that?”

“Yeah, uh,” Shadow tells Tingle, “I was in very real pain for a bit there.”

Tingle sighs. “I didn’t know that the mirror being fractured would hurt you. I thought Blue or Red would simply fall in and realize they needed to break it completely, and that’d be that.”

“But did we have to break it at all?” Red asks, although his voice remains empathetic. “Shadow losing his powers is a pretty severe consequence of events that didn’t actually need to happen.”

Tingle turns to Shadow, addressing him specifically. “It was going to happen soon enough. Surely, you could tell something was going on with your connection to the Dark World. I realized it myself when you told Vio about being comfortable in the sunlight.”

“Sure” Shadow concedes, “but you still have to admit this whole thing was pretty insane. A lot of things could have gone very wrong.”

“I was almost killed by a lizalfos,” says Green.

Vio’s expression turns somber. “And I had to sacrifice the Fire Temple throne.”

Shadow slams a hand over his own mouth. “No!”

“It sounds like you had good intentions,” Red tells Tingle with a reassuring smile. “And the party is very nice.”

Tingle frowns. “Yeah… okay, I’m starting to see the flaws in my plan. Sorry I got overzealous. I’ll, uh, make sure to send the hinoxes gift baskets or something.”

For some reason, Shadow feels compelled to comfort the strange little man. Maybe he sees himself in the guy, just a little—hadn’t he and Vio thought the same thing about hiring him in the first place?

“You know what?” Shadow says, not quite smiling but not frowning, either. “At the end of the day, your plan was successful. It brought us all together again. And I’m thankful for that.”

Tingle gives him a tiny bow, which looks particularly strange since he’s suspended mid-air by a balloon. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Shadow glances at Vio, who nods for him to continue. “But, Tingle… you’re still fired. Not banished or anything—but very, very fired.”

Tingle takes a moment to consider, and then shrugs. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Seemingly inspired, Red turns to Blue. “You’re fired too!”

“Sorry?”

“You hate working at the shop. You need to do something you actually care about!”

“Hylia, are you evicting me from the apartment too?”

“Of course not, silly! I love living with you!”

Shadow notices Blue’s blush and smirks. Okay, something’s definitely going on there.

“Fine,” Blue says, “yeah, thanks, actually. I think I want to try my hand at some actual dungeon crawling. I have always claimed to be the real Hero, after all.”

“By all means, go ahead,” Green tells him. “I’m perfectly happy on the ranch.”

Shadow reaches for Vio’s hand and squeezes it. “Not to be tacky, but I think we should do a toast.”

Vio raises an eyebrow. “That is very tacky, actually. Let’s do it.”

Everyone at the table, Tingle included, raises their glasses.

“To the future,” Shadow says, basking in the attention of his new friends.

“And to friends,” Vio adds with a shy smile.

Red beams. “And to fun!”

“And adventure,” contributes Blue.

Green looks to Zelda. “To courage.”

“And wisdom.”

“And pumpkin soup!” Tingle exclaims, and even Vio can’t help but chuckle at the sheer absurdity.

Shadow clinks his husband’s glass and takes a sip from his own. “To the darkest timeline,” Vio says quietly, just between them. Shadow goes in for the headbonk with no hesitation.

“Thank darkness for that.”

#my writing #fs #four swords #four swords manga #vio link #shadow link #blue link #red link #green link #fs zelda #four swords zelda #vidow #vio x shadow

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

"Okay, Kim. Just one little cryptid. Promise."

KIM KITSURAGI - He nods and assumes a waiting posture.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success] - Whooh... tough choice there.

"What's the biggest cryptid?"

"What's the tiniest cryptid?"

"What's the most dangerous cryptid?"

"Is that a cryptid on this pen you gave me?" (Take out the pen she gave you).

"Are there any *invisible* cryptids?"

"This has been educational, sadly we need to discuss something else."

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "That would be the Giant of Koko Nur!" she says as if it's common knowledge.

"The Giant lives in the most arid parts of the vast Koko Nur desert, in South Samara, casting a strange light across the barren wastes."

"Wait... what do you mean 'strange light'?

"And just how big is it?"

"Is it dangerous?"

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "A mirage... or a psychogenous luminance." She does not elaborate the nature of this luminance further.

"And just how big is it?"

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "No one knows for sure. It is like an *awful* mountain appearing from below the horizon and expanding to cover almost a third of your field of vision."

"Is it dangerous?"

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "The towering luminosity of Koko Nur is a bad omen in local folklore. Some say it's a fata morgana, others -- a fate unimaginable."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hooey," the lieutenant interjects. "No animal can be that large. It's a mirage."

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "That's what makes it so peculiar -- a species surviving at the very limits of scientific law. The Giant of Koko Nur must be the largest animal the planet can support."

"There are limits, you see, to how large a metabolism an ecosystem can beget. Some say a gravity anomaly below the Koko Nur desert might allow the creature to grow to these *gargantuan* sizes."

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - Great. This is great shit. You need more.

2. "What's the tiniest cryptid?"

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant leans in. "Hey, you promised you'd only ask about one cryptid."

"But, Kim.. don't *you* want to hear about another cryptid too?"

"Right, okay, we can move on for now." (It'd be dishonourable to renege on the promise.)

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant pauses thoughtfully.

VOLITION [Medium: Success] - Something in him breaks.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Ah, fuck it. Let's have more cryptids."

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - She smiles. "Well, the smallest cryptid is the *Cryobacter katlensis*, a unicellular bacterium. It was discovered in one of the northern-most points of Katla on the Boreal Plateau -- by renowned geologist Catelyn Mijanou some 70 years ago."

"What's so special about it?"

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "The bacterial colony Mijanou found had remained alive while frozen in ice for longer than anyone could reliably estimate -- certainly from before recorded history."

"Mijanou disappeared shortly after injecting herself with the bacteria she had brought back to study -- no doubt, in hopes of prolonging her *own* life."

"Wait, she *injected herself with it?"

"You mean, there is an immortal geologist wandering the world?"

"I don't understand. Why would you want to prolong your own life? Being alive is terrible."

"I intend to live forever too. As a symbol."

"She was preparing for the end times. She wanted to witness and record the Twilight Proceedings."

"Immortal bacteria, immortal geologist? That's too wild."

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "Yes. The bacteria had survived in the ice since times immemorial. It is not hard to see where she could have gotten the idea."

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's actually *a little* hard to see." He looks at her sceptically. "But do go on."

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #lena the cryptozoologist's wife

[stackslip]

funniest and saddest thing in akis arc is right after aki meets kishibe after returning from hokaido and kishibe is like man living with them has to be a handful WHICH IS COMPLETELY TRUE we just followed a whole chapter of denji and power being utterly insufferable. like the absolute worst most exhausting duo of feral kids who aki cannot leave unsupervised for 5 seconds before they start eating week-old funerary offerings because as chaotic as they are individually as a duo they literally become 5 year olds who chop off limbs for fun. and akis like reluctantly WELL yeah theyre awful but like, theyve done so much progress, power no longer flings veggies across the room and very occasionally once in a blue moon denji actually pays attention to what i say. its so fucking funny kishibe is like "man youre a saint theyre exhausting. i mean i like them but boy are they tiring." and instead of bitching about it and agreeing aki fucking DEFENDS them. like "they dont shit over the furniture anymore, thats big progress, im proud of them." the bar is so low but listen theyre doing their best.

:readmore:

and then its followed by the immediate gobsmacking bitchslap of aki asking kishibe if he can abandon his life-long dream by withdrawing the trio from the gun devil expedition. his sole goal in life for years, it is so close, and he knows he has so little time left at all, and he gives it all up there and then. right after his trip with power and denji, the one they bullied him to join in. right after having to scold them and rein them in for two days straight like toddlers. less than a month after being confronted with the possibility of a world where neither of them are alive, and realizing that he cannot bear that possibility. it doesnt matter that he would be able to die finally fulfilling his dream of destroying the gun devil, of avenging all his losses, of going in peace. the idea of denji and power dying there, or being left with nothing when hes gone... its enough for him to give it all up. he's willing to spend whatever time is left seeing them fuck up his apartment and squabbling and just.... living, free of fear or danger. his sole goal now is to die with the certainty that they will both have a long and happy existence, that he'll have protected them and fulfilled his role as an older brother. he is fine with dying still! he has accepted it as long as theyre ok. he saw these two gremlins who were supposed to be everything he hated, he grudgingly himself take care of them bc he was asked to, grew used to them being in his life. and then he grew to love them, to love how much denji enjoyed his cooking, to love how power played with her cat, to enjoy their squabbling and appreciate the efforts they did make. these two feral strays with no manners grew to trust and rely on him, they started sharing the chores (with much complaining) and allowed themselves to be vulnerable with him, they clung to him when he wanted to leave for hokkaido. and aki fucking gives up on revenge! he gives up on fighting! he will not live for much longer, but he wont spend his remaining time on taking down the creature that has haunted his life. because he isnt alone now, he has a family hes grown to love and who loves him. he will spend these last few weeks teaching denji to cook himself, making sure power learns healthy eating habits. he will sit at the table and share meals with them and savour every last moment. its the only thing he wishes for anymore, he has nothing else, and yet he has more than he ever thought possible.

he finally allowed himself to love, to give up on revenge, to be at peace. its fuckjng gutwrenching that makima took that away from him, that he died not only as what he hated, but burdened with the knowledge that it was too late and that his family would suffer. he was willing to give everything over and over again, spent his last minutes begging for a way for power and denji to be happy. for power to live, for denji to not be burdened with grief and guilt. he never blamed denji when the future devil told him about how aki would die, he inherently knew that it would not be of the boys own volition and that it would wreck him. mere minutes left, spent begging for power and denjis lives. he didnt even get to realize or fight back, he didnt get to say goodbye. he died a mockery of himself, turned into an instrument of pain against his family. he died as a shambling corpse whose instincts guided him home, only to unknowingly destroy that home. he died because from the very start, makima *intended* him to love power and denji and take care of them, she was building this edifice so that the collapse would be that much more devastating. he died because makima understood the power and pain of real relationships and love, and it was all in the goal of punishing denji for being chosen by pochita. it was all because she never had it herself, and wanted it so badly, and aki and power were merely dolls for her to get what she thought she deserved. its so fucking cruel and evil and it is so fucking tragic for everyone involved including her.

but man akis arc is not "a lesson in the futility of revenge" or a punishment for his early singlemindedness. he did realize these things. he had them in his hands. he was going to succeed, he was protecting his family until the end. it's just that makimas control was so absolute, her chains so strong, he never had a chance anyway. none of them ever did!

#eli talks #csm #csm spoilers

[hargrove-mayfields]

It’s the 30th, which means it’s already the final day of @harringroveweek! I had such a fun time writing a new piece for every day! Thank you to everyone who participated in, engaged with, and organized this event!!

Today I chose the song of the day prompt: I Think We’re Alone Now by Tiffany!

trigger warning for detailed depictions of blood/injury and general violence. Basically, monster hunting.

If he lived to see another day, Steve was going to murder those kids.

Sending him out there with no back up, no plan, no fucking way out. Just watching as he was dragged under and didn’t resurface. What a real group of geniuses they are.

He doesn’t even know how long it’s been since then. If maybe they’ve forgotten about him. He’d prefer to think that they just think he found his way out and skipped town or something. Not that they probably had given up all hope.

To be fair, he would’ve too, pretty early on actually since after only about a few minutes of the portal sealing itself behind him, he’d been jumped by some new flesh eating thing.

Yet another obstacle he’d come unprepared for, without even a weapon.

Laying on the ground, being eaten alive by those things, that was when everything changed though.

Because Billy Hargrove, looking only a little worse for wear, had been the one to bash the monsters in, and toss Steve his own bat to finish the job.

Time moves differently down here, so he doesn’t know how long it’s been since then either, but one thing Steve is perfectly certain of is the fact that they’ve fought through another three hordes of those things, and spent even longer hiding from more.

They haven’t even had a chance to talk about much, like what happened before Billy died. Dynamic wise, things seem unchanged from last year, but as far as Steve remembered, Billy had died heartbroken by him and his stupid inability to not be jealous all the time. They fought and broke up and then Billy went missing.

But now he’s alive again, in better shape than Steve even, and they’re too busy fighting for their lives to fight for themselves. They just sort of accept that they’re together again.

Feeling like he can’t walk any further, Steve leans against the siding of a crumpled metal shed. They’d searched it for more weapons, then promptly broke most of them when another pack of demobats showed. His mouth tastes like blood, and not because he bit one this time. He needs a break.

“Hey. I think we lost them..”

Billy turns his head to look at him sharply, “Just like you’ve lost your damned mind if you think that means I’m just going to stand here and wait for them to come back.”

“I’m not stopping, I just need a breath. Not all of us have had this shit in our lungs for as long as you have.” Steve is doubled over now, panting a little. Blood and spit drip past his lips. Not a good sign.

The harshness drops from Billy’s tone instantly, moving to trying to encourage him, “Can’t let it get in your head or you’ll suffocate. You’re fine, Steve. Gotta keep going.”

Wheezing, Steve emphasizes his point, “So a little break isn’t going to kill us. I seriously think we’re alone now..”

“Fine. But if those things catch up to us again, with you in this state, we’re goners.” Billy sounds stern, but his heart isn’t in it.

Tired of leaning on hard metal, Steve sinks to the ground to catch his breath, “What happened to not letting it get to your head?”

Billy moves closer, drawing his weapon of choice, which is a shotgun for now. A silent agreement to stand guard for Steve while he’s down. He mutters bitterly, despite his willingness to help, “There’s a difference between being cautious and driving yourself crazy.”

“I think being trapped down here with you is enough to drive me crazy.”

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” Billy scoffs a laugh, and Steve returns it with a crooked, pained smile, “Both.”

“Aw, you’re just flattering me.”

“See? I can’t even get a word out without you being all sarcastic and snarky about it.”

“You like it.” Billy hums confidently, so, instead of disputing it, Steve decides to catch Billy’s ego off guard, “I guess I do. That’s why we’re going to make it out of here, Billy.”

Everything about him softens, his face, his posture, his voice, “Well if we’re going to do that, you’re gonna need patched up again. You’ve bled through again.”

“I’m fine.” Steve tries to resist, just so he doesn’t become a burden. His feelings towards Billy are too complicated right now, caught between that old summer fling and a sense of inferiority, for how quickly he succumbed to a bite when Billy’s been here for twice as long.

“Sure, thing. Just watch my back.” Billy hands off the gun and kneels in front of Steve, digging through the bag of supplies he’d been able to accrue during his time down here until he finds more bandage rolls, the cleanest material he can.

Shifting forward on his knees, Billy rolls up the sticky, tattered shirt they threw on Steve to cover his bandaging the last time. He grimaces, and Steve takes that as his cue to look straight up at the sky instead of assessing the damage for himself, “Damn it, Stevie. This is getting bad.”

He swallows hard, bracing himself by asking, “How bad?”

“Not worse than I’ve seen it. Just.. not good.” Billy pokes at it, assessing the damage. Even the lightest prod feels like fire in Steve’s abdomen, the pain flaring as far up as his chest.

He starts to panic, seeing the expression in the other boy's face combined with the intense feeling, “Oh god..”

Pulling his hands away to look for something else, bandages apparently not cutting it anymore, Billy warns, firm but sort of sweet sounding, “Panicking’s not going to do anything but shorten your air intake and attract those things to the sound. If you’d like to savor this tranquility, I suggest you cut the freaking out.”

Steve closes his eyes and tries to follow his advice. The first thing that comes to mind, he starts talking about it to get his mind off of the irritating ache, “You always just call the monsters ‘things.’ You haven’t named them yet?”

Billy snort-laughs, half-heartedly sarcastic, “Uh, no? Why the hell would I? They’re trying to eat me, they’re not my pets.”

Something wet touches him, and he reacts so fast, but so uncoordinatedly that he smacks his head off of the surface he was leaning on. It’s just a rag with bottled water, Billy’s attempt at washing away some of the dried blood to asses the damage further, but it felt suspiciously like a bat tail. Billy smiles apologetically. Steve rolls his eyes pathetically slow and and keeps talking,

“We call the big ones demogorgons. And the little ones are just demo whatevers: demodogs, demobats, now..”

Periodically checking in with Steve on what he’s doing after that little scare, Billy glances up at him, waiting for a small nod to keep pressing harder, wiping away more blood and dirt and monster spit than Steve knew was possible to have on him. He keeps him engaged as well, asking, amused, “Those losers named the interdimensional face-eating monsters after dungeons and dragons?”

“You recognized it.”

“Shit. You got me.”

A particularly painful movement has Steve wincing, demanding despite the nice back and forth they had going, “Are you done yet?”

“Almost. This last parts gonna hurt..” Billy warns, and Steve tries to understand but,

“Why? What are you- Fuck!”

Too late. There’s a stinging pain so intense his vision goes blurry, and if Steve didn’t want to throw up so bad he’d be cursing at Billy for it.

Knowing that just from Steve’s posture and his clenched fists, Billy explains himself, “Sorry, H. Pretty sure that was a tooth or something in there. I couldn’t bandage you back up like that.”

Steve lets his head fall back, suddenly feeling more exhausted with all this, his pain levels admittedly somewhat improving with that thing out of him, even if it sucked to get to that point, “Just please tell me that was it.”

Finally wrapping the bandage around, watching Steve’s face to make sure it isn’t too tight and making him feel weirdly vulnerable under his gaze, Billy remarks, proud of his work, “It’s your lucky day. All done.”

Finally Steve relaxes, exhaling out some of the tension he kept in his muscles to make Billy's job easier. It helps, but not much. “Christ.. How did you survive down here for so long? I’ve been here what, a few hours? And I’m barely hanging on.”

“One, don’t say that kind of shit. You’re fine. Two, I don’t really know why I was able to fight for so long.”

Billy looks away, whether he’s hiding his feelings or checking the tree line, Steve isn’t sure, “I mean, I guess that’s what I’ve done all my life, is fight against some big scary monster. Except now instead of worrying about school and my social life and watching Max, it’s just about surviving now. My troubles are between me and the monster and nobody else for once. So it’s almost easier.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something in response and validate his willingness to share his feelings, his breath sort of crackling in his throat, but Billy cuts him off quickly and stiffly, “I’m not done.”

“When all I have to do is fight, and not try to balance all these problems on top of an already broken foundation, I got to thinking. About how shitty I’d been to everyone, just because I was too busy fighting the monsters to notice. You and Max and Sinclair, mostly. Susan too. Everyone really though.”

Billy pauses to clear his throat. Steve can tell it's to hide the strained sound of a tearful voice, but he also coughs, pretending it was something to do with the air. In exchange for how open he’s being, Steve is willing to let him have that, “I dunno. I just felt kinda shitty knowing that if I died here and never made it back, everyone would always think of me like that, and I would have done nothing with my life but make other people feel like they were running from a monster. Running away from me and all my shittiness like I had done for so long.”

“So pretty much, I guess I survive now ‘cause I want to do better than that monster. And I want to get back so I can make things right.”

“You’ll get that chance, Billy. I promise. We’re getting out of here.” It’s not much compared to that massive emotional speech Billy had just given, but Steve doesn’t know what else to say, what else to believe in.

Billy only mutters, all his passion drained out and just sounding tired now, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I mean it. Because unlike before, we’re not alone. We aren’t fighting these monsters by ourselves the way you had to. There are so many people behind us, those kids and their families, your family, that are looking for us right now.”

Steve assures him, making himself feel better if he’s being honest, “They don’t care who hurt who in the past. Our friends are going to do what’s right no matter what and they’re going to save our sorry asses. I know it.”

But Billy just sounds broken, defeated. “Steve. It’s been days. Maybe even weeks, and nobody’s come for you.”

He’s speechless. There’s no way it’s been that long. Bracing himself, he tries, “Well it was months before I found you. I never gave up on you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“So say it.” Billy demands, and Steve does with equal intensity, “Because I love you.”

“Right. Do you think anyone up there feels that way about either of us?” He hadn’t been expecting him to weaponize that. Steve bites his tongue as Billy rants, “I shot down any chance of Max feeling that way a long time ago. Wheeler definitely doesn’t love your bullshit anymore. Our parents hate us. Half of those kids are strangers, and the other half just think you’re their expendable babysitter to send away on suicide missions to fix their problems.

“They don’t care, Steve. Not the way you do. With your stupid stubbornness and your stupidly big heart. They’re not coming for us now.” This isn’t something that’s coming out of nowhere. It’s obvious Billy has put a lot of thought into this, probably long before Steve found his way down here.

At least Steve knows where they stand relationship wise now. It’s not much of a silver lining.

Matching in his desperation and fear, Steve asks, “What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself earlier, babe. I think we’re alone now.”

A beat. Steve makes up his mind, “That’s not going to stop me.”

“Who said it should?”

“Alright, then. What’s next?”

The fight still seems to have drained out of Billy entirely. He shrugs, “You tell me. You’ve done this before.”

“We follow those things and see where they’re hunting. We’ll probably find another portal there if we’re fast enough.” Steve details. That’s how they found the portal on the other side, anyways. It’s the only theory they’ve got.

Billy buys it, seeming slightly less defeated to see that Steve actually might know a little bit what he’s doing, “If you’re sure, then lead the way.”

A hot spot for monster activity is usually near flat ground. Clearings and fields and places where the dead grass is tall enough they wouldn’t dare go near it unprotected.

Their hideout is on top of a hill for a reason.

Gathering all they need, weapons and such, they set out, waiting at the bottom behind trees and vines for a monster to step out. They’re hard to find down here, that bluish tint making everything look the same. It’s easier to listen. Rustling steps ahead, accompanied with growls and chitters, tell them they’ve got what they need.

Billy leads, peering around to check that the demodog is indeed walking away from them, and signaling for Steve to follow.

It leads them unknowingly for a good several miles until they lose track of it in a separate clearing. Exposed like this, they’re on high alert now, Steve’s got enough adrenaline pumping in his system now he can barely feel the bites. That’s for the best, he thinks. To be afraid of anything.

Up ahead, there’s a faint reddish glow emanating from exactly what they’re looking for, a hole large enough to fit them both through at once in the wall of what looks like the remnants of an old barn. A portal. Intimidating as the sight is, Steve is relieved, “There it is.”

Billy is too, as he jokes, “Are those things always that gross looking?”

“Who cares? Let’s just get out of here.”

Steve steps forward towards it, but is quickly caught by Billy, a strong hand on his shoulder freezing him to the spot.

Billy holds up a hand, a sign to stop and listen, “Wait..”

As expected, Steve hears it before he sees it, a demodog lurking just beyond the edge of the clearing where the old barn is. It chirps, calling for backup. Eventually Steve’s eyes adjust, and from yards away he can see rows upon rows of hungry teeth.

They hardly have time to prepare after that initial moment, Billy having just enough to make sure there’s still bullets in his gun before it pounces with a sickening snarl.

There’s a half dozen of them, two smaller ones taken out instantly with blasts from the shotgun as they opened their mouths to bite. For someone who never held a gun before, Billy’s become a damn good shot.

Then the gun clicks. It’s empty. He hadn’t had time to reload it before, so he certainly doesn’t now.

But he doesn’t falter for even a second, when the next one comes he uses the butt of the gun in the same way Steve is using his bat, swinging it and sending the demodog skidding across the wooded ground.

He chases it and bashes its skull in. That makes another angry and it pounces at him, taking his gun between it’s jaws.

More dogs swarm them, and they get turned around then, separated when a bigger dog runs between them, rearing to tear apart whatever it can get its teeth into. Steve calls it out and bolts, finishing off the one that initially ran with him with a side swing of his bat. It stumbles, already bleeding, and doesn’t get back up.

Now the larger one is after him, because Billy must not have killed the one he was fighting yet. Steve wishes he could stop and find him, make sure he was holding up. Right now, he let that get in his head. He focuses, and waits for the dog to pounce to jam the bat in its jaws.

The nails stop it from splintering the wood with its teeth, and give him a way to shove it through the things skull. He hates that part, feeling it pierce flesh, feeling the fight fade from what’s left of the monster. Not out of sympathy for it, just because it feels gross, to take a life.

It sounds like the fight has died down. He looks around, counting the bodies and coming up with six. There’s no more left from this wave. He withdraws the bat from the corpse and kicks it just to make sure it's not going to get back up and bite him.

Out of breath and sweating from the fight, Steve checks in with Billy after he’s sure that last one is dead, “Looks like we’re alone again. You good?”

“Uh..” When he looks over, Billy is pulling his hand away from his side, uncovering their worst fear. There’s blood on his hand up to his elbow, soaking completely through his shirt, which has been partially torn away to reveal giant gash marks in his side. A missing chunk of flesh near his ribs. It looks like Steve’s injury, but much worse, which makes sense considering this one’s a dog bite, instead of from those mole rats on wings. Rationality doesn’t make it less terrifying.

“Billy!” Steve drops his bat completely and rushes over to him, using his hand to press Billy’s back against the wound, applying pressure despite the way it makes Billy wince. He walks him backwards like that for a few steps to sit down on an old turned up tree stump.

“You know how I said it was only a little bad before?” Billy snarks through gritted teeth, voice straining with tension.

“Don’t. You’re going to be fine. We just have to go through the..” Steve glances over his shoulder at first, referring to the portal they had found. The portal that he doesn’t see even a trace of. He knows they hadn’t gone that far in the midst of the battle. His heart drops, his spins around, cranes his neck, desperate to find it.

But it’s not there, “Where’s the portal? I saw it, where’d it go?”

“Looks like we missed our chance.” Billy grunts in pain, forcing himself to sit up straighter, a sorry mistake that has him doubling over, barely able to speak, “Listen, Stevie, I don’t think-“

“Shut up. You’re fine. You have to be. I can’t do this on my own.” Steve kneels down to his level, tending to him in the only way he knows how, shaking out of his jacket and bundling it up, pressing it into his side. It makes him sick how quickly Billy’s blood seeps through the fabric onto his hands. He keeps talking, to keep them both sane, “We might be alone, but we’re alone together. You’re all I have. You have to keep fighting, for us.”

“Don't be such a sap. Just, get me some alcohol or something and I’ll be right as rain.” Billy smiles weakly, half-heartedly, trying to be snarky like usual.

Another snarl interrupts the mood, telling them more of those monsters are coming to where they are, probably to finish the fight.

“And maybe get me out of here first.”

“Can you walk?” Helping him back up to his feet, Steve wraps one arm sturdily around Billy’s middle, letting him press the wound on his own, carrying all their discarded weapons under his arm. They’re vulnerable like this. Too vulnerable.

Billy knows it, because he insists, “I’m fine.”

“You just said-“ Steve starts, but Billy cuts him off, the urgency of there being more dogs nearby outweighing his caution over the injury. Which is fair, because if more came after them like this, they wouldn’t stand a chance this time.

“I’m fine. Let’s go.” His insistence weighs out, and Steve begrudgingly walks him back through the long expanse of woods they traveled through in the first place, all the way to their shelter that way.

By the time they make it there, Billy’s barely conscious. It makes it easier for Steve to tend to him when he’s fading in and out like that, too in shock to argue or fight, but it does nothing to soothe his worries.

It’s at least a few more hours of bandage changes and shots of vodka before Billy’s fully with him again. Steve has taken the time to clean up most of the blood off of them, if not just to make the target on their backs smaller. He also found the least decomposed pillows and blankets he could find in their hideout and made a comfortable little corner to prop Billy up. It’s not ideal, but he thinks it might be nice to regain awareness in a slightly better state than when he went out.

The first thing he says when Billy is fully conscious is, “Hey. We’ll get another chance.. It’s not over.”

“I know.” With assistance, Steve ready to help as soon as he sees him move even an inch, Billy sits up on his elbows, “It’s just.. hard to keep hoping for something that seems like it’s never going to happen.”

“We were so close. Don’t quit on me now.”

“I told you I’m not I just.. I need a break.”

A reference to their earlier conversation. It hurts, realizing how long ago that felt, when really it only took them less than a day to fail so miserably. Steve pretends it’s okay, “Is this the part where you tell me I was right?”

“Sure. You were right Steve, stopping isn’t what’s going to kill us.” A slow smile spreads over pale lips, making him look more like himself, and certainly sounding more like Billy as he says sarcastically, “Just the gradual buildup of this floaty shit in our lungs from not doing anything. When we suffocate in a few hours, well, at least we got to rest right?”

Steve loses what he’s saying about halfway through though, because another sound catches his attention. He can’t be sure what it is, but after what happened, he’s on high alert. He warns, “Be quiet.”

Billy scoffs, “Damn. Won’t even entertain a wounded man.”

Steve shakes his head, listening and finally understanding. It’s surface noises that are distracting him, the distant sound of people talking and car horns and dogs barking that carry over in the dead of the night, so he explains, “No I.. thought I heard something. Voices.”

Billy looks hesitant to remind him, “Hate to say it, Stevie, but..”

“I know, I know. We’re alone, whatever. But.. don’t you think it’s strange how if we’re quiet enough, we can hear things on the other side?”

“I try not to think about it. I thought we already established that nobody's coming to find us.”

“Because they don’t know we’re alive down here, but what if there was a way we could contact them?” Steve’s onto something with this. Another breakthrough idea like before with the portal. He just hopes this one works out better.

Billy is skeptical before he’s even heard the plan, “Don’t torture me.”

“I’m not. I’m serious. When Will was down here, he was able to talk to his mother through lights, like lamps and things.” Steve explains the foundations of his idea as it comes to him.

Still not convincing enough, Billy rambles critically, “So we possess the lights and suddenly our problems are magically fixed? The portal closed on us Steve. Even if we catch somebody’s attention, what if it’s the wrong person up there? Some government cronies who rescue us just to blow our brains out in the backroom of a lab.”

“Then we find the right person before we do it. We have to try.”

“If you knew this all along, why only bring it up now?”

Steve motions to himself and Billy, the state of their clothes, the nearly identical bloodied bandages around them. Things aren’t looking so good, and that's his answer, “You’re hurt now. I’m willing to risk being hunted by the men in black or whoever the fuck they are if it means we have a chance at getting you help.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll play along. What do we do?” Billy shifts forward in interest, wincing slightly. He’s really hurting now. Steve can tell. But Billy’s hiding it well, so he doesn’t bring it up. Not until they’re safe.

“We don’t really know what Will did, but I guess you have to just touch the lights. And be careful about it so somebody can see that it’s intentional.” It’s the oversimplified version, but it will do.

Simplified plans lead to simple observations. Billy points out, “There’s nobody around.”

“Not on this side. But up there, things are normal. Life goes on. Empty buildings are full of people and light. As long as it’s somebody who knows about this happening before, we’ve got a chance.”

“Where do we find this somebody?”

“I’m going to leave it up to you.” Steve’s tone is rich with honesty, knowing that this is a tender spot for Billy. He suggests, “I don’t know most of the kids too well except Henderson. He’s probably noticed I’ve gone missing so he might notice the lights too. But then there’s also..”

“Max.” Billy finishes for him, his expression too multifaceted for Steve to even begin to break it down. What he gets most is doubt, “She knows about this shit?”

“Well, she’s been down here, technically. The night we fought..”

Billy doesn’t want to acknowledge that, enough other hints to argue about, moving on almost immediately to, “The lights in that house are shitty anyways though. Doubt she’d even notice a little flickering since that’s what they do all the fucking time.” He’s trying to make excuses for the obvious concern they both have without saying them. What if they don’t notice or care that it’s them?

Steve offers a solution, “There was something else.”

“Go on.”

“The radio. Will was able to turn on a radio, and Eleven could hear him through radio static. Nobody without powers could hear us, but if we flicker the lights and play music, she’ll probably know something is going on.”

“Think it’s worth a shot then?” Billy sounds more optimistic and stronger too. Like the idea of still having hope to be saved is helping him to push through. Steve doesn’t want to think of what might happen to Billy if this doesn’t work.

He nods determinedly, “The best we have.”

———

By the time they make it to Billy’s house, Billy himself is worn down. He’s slow and he’s exhausted and he’s just all around depressed. A sweaty, bleeding mess, much like Steve himself. Not that they could blame it entirely on the injury. They’d avoided this side of town deliberately, the memories too torturous to the trapped psyche.

The best Steve can do is offer his support, holding Billy’s hand tightly as they walk along, partially to help him walk with his injury, but mostly for comfort.

Even with a lethargic second half, finding the house is easy. Just from a year of Billy living in Hawkins they both had every path to and from the house memorized. The hard part is just going in.

Steve asks, after they’ve been staring up at the crumbled form of the house that was never really a home, and definitely not a place where he felt safe, “You ready?”

Billy doesn’t say anything more as he steps forward and leads the way, needing Steve’s help up the front steps but after that navigating straight to his old room. It’s unrecognizable under the thick black cover of vines and decay, but Steve can tell Billy still gets emotional seeing it. He sniffs, wiping at his eyes discreetly before walking to one specific spot,

“Somewhere under here is my stereo. There’s a lamp on the bedside table.”

That means he’s ready. Steve lets go of his hand and lets Billy reach out to the tangled mass of his death that engulfs their chance at discovery. Just touching it, the room fills with this overwhelming, static-like feeling, and there’s a faint, muffled sound like music. It’s indiscernible what's playing, be it some local radio station or the last mixtape Billy left in the rack, but they can tell something is. A fact which is accentuated by the sound of a distant shout in the house.

It worked.

Someone in the real world, and they both have a guess as to who that is, wants the radio turned off. An unfortunate confirmation that they are heard.

“Quiet.” His adrenaline kicking through the roof again, Steve shushes Billy, convincing himself he can hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“I wasn’t even sayin’ anything.” Billy argues, his voice whispery and sad. This is hard for him. Being hurt and having to ask for help, and just being able to communicate after so long trapped in this dimension.

“You are now. Hush.”

For a moment there is no more noise from above, the only sound the beating of their hearts in the tense moment and the faint radio static.

Anticlimactically, it just shuts off. And then there’s nothing.

Steve looks at Billy and he’s already looking back, they nod in mutual agreement to try again.

Billy taps it once more, and this time, they get a real response.

It’s thankfully Max that’s been tasked with shutting down their sound, as she mutters, barely audible through dimensional barriers, Come on, you stupid thing.”

She shuts the stereo off again, shaking it slightly. But hearing her voice only means they have to act more, before this incident is written off as an easy to fix technical problem and they lose their chance.

Billy turns it on and doesn’t take his hand off, with Max’s further attempts at silencing the stereo now unsuccessful.

She raises her voice slightly, without being able to see her, sounding on the verge of tears, “Even now you just have to annoy me... Why won’t you let me forget you?”

Steve keeps his head down. This moment feels too personal. Even though it’s his only sense of connection right now, he fights the urge to listen too. Those words were meant for Billy.

Only out of his peripheral does he see Billy, who’s taken Max’s words as his cue to up the game, reach across to the lamp he’d mentioned and putting his hand where the long shattered bulb would have been.

They hear Max sigh bitterly, “Great. Now I’m going crazy too. Is this..?”

Her disbelief makes Billy tense, almost panicked from not being able to get his point across easily, or any more clearly than this. Steve imagines that as he does so, the light dulls, because Max’s next response is even more doubtful.

“Of course it’s not.. I’m so stupid. And now I’m talking to myself. This is fine, everything’s fine.”

But it isn’t, and as Billy applies more intensity to the radio, the correlated volume going up on the other side, they hear the sound of hollow thuds against hard plastic, the unmistakable sound of Max smashing the radio against the desk in frustration, “Why won’t you turn off!”

Interrupting her meltdown, Billy goes back to the lamp, trying desperately to get her attention, to answer her question and say that it won’t turn off because there’s someone who needs her to hear them. Steve joins in, reaching up towards the half-exposed ceiling light, which he imagines is still perfect on the other side.

It seems to be enough. In a fascinated voice that is thick with tears, Max confirms what they needed to hear all along, “So this is real. This is really happening. Then that means… Billy?”

They both stop with the flickering, leaving the room in silence and dark until Billy, very purposefully, lights up that one bulb as intensely as he can manage. Whether it’s from the effort that takes or just from the situation, tears are tracking down Billy’s face now. He looks like he’s about to break completely.

“I knew it. I knew it!” The effort, the plan, the poorly thought out strategies, it’s all coming together for this moment. They hear Max raise her voice, as if to be better heard on their side of things, “Hey, um, I-I don’t know if you can hear me too good but, just stay wherever you are. I’m going to get us help.”

Billy nods, but realizes she can’t see him. A strange expression that Steve can’t read settles on his face, and he flickers the lamp, a confirmation that he heard her.

They can hear Max taking shaky deep breaths, sounding in shock, “You better still be here when I get back with backup. I need proof that I’m not nuts. Just.. I’ll talk to you again soon...”

“Please be real, please be real…” Bittersweet, the sound of her voice slowly fades to nothing as she leaves the room. Their presence is known now, but they’re technically back to square one, without anybody but themselves.

This time though, there’s hope in the solitude. There’s a future for them if they can just assemble enough help to make that reality.

Steve puts his arm around Billy, careful not to bump the massive injury in his torso. For the first time since he’s been down here, he smiles a genuine smile, “I don’t think we have to worry about being alone anymore.”

#HarringroveWeek #harringrove #billy x steve #billy & max #this is pretty much my ideal season 4 #canon? i don't know her #pretty loosely based on the song itself and more just on the concept of being alone #also #monster hunting boyfriends #heads up this one is pretty long after the read more #ej writer #story by ej! #my writing

[azurbee]

BWAAA venting, don’t be on this post if you don’t wanna hear it

So like- life is hard, that goes without saying, but shit has really been bothering me recently.

I guess that most of my problems is because of my mother, I don’t even think I can even call her one anymore. I have always been paranoid and distant from her, whenever I was young and I did something slightly wrong she would yell at me loudly or sometimes even beat me with a wooden spoon which, I probably deserved.

It’s one of the reasons why I don’t talk to her much and why I hate expressing myself without permission. I feel like if I express myself too freely people will just start getting annoyed by me and start to hate me and even start to yell at me. I’ve developed an intense fear of being yelled at, I’m fine being yelled at when it’s just joking around but when it comes down to genuine anger I just feel like a disappointment. I feel useless and unwanted and the person who yells at me should just get rid of me so that way they can feel better. I feel like I’m not aloud to make mistakes because if I do then people will start to hate me and I’ll just be a disappointment.

I really started to hate my mother when she divorced my dad. The only explanation she gave for it was “oH i JuSt DoN’t LoVe HiM aNyMoRe”. HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE SOMEONE ANYMORE AFTER WHAT, ALMOST 25 YEARS??? AND EVEN AFTER YOU STARTED A FAMILY WITH THEM FOR 16 YEARS? I hated that she did that, I hate that I’m seeing her so much more happy now, I hate that she did that to my dad. Do you even realize the shit he’s been through?? You just gave him his second divorce! I don’t know why he divorce his first wife, and I don’t think I have the right to ask but my dad is the best father I could ever ask for. Unlike my mom, he actually understands my brother and I, he does whatever he can to spend time with us.

My dad has worked so hard for everyone for his whole life, he has done so much for us AND THIS IS HOW HE’S TREATED??? Two divorces, a shitty new boss who doesn’t allow him overtime for most of the time, he has to live with my step-sister and her god awful family in their zoo of a house, which may I add, ISN’T EVEN THEIR HOUSE! IT’S MY DADS AND THEY DON’T EVEN PAY HIM RENT! OH AND THEY CHERRY ON TOP, THERES A SCREAMING BABY 24/7 AND MY SISTER AND HER SHITTY HUSBAND DON’T DO SHIT ABOUT IT!!! MY DAD EVEN SAYS HE FEELS LIKE A PRISONER IN HIS OWN HOUSE!

I hate that this is what my dad gets in return for everything he has done for us, I hate that my useless ass can’t do shit about it.

There’s also the fact that I have been getting worn down by the fact I can’t have a day to rest. During the week, I have school. When it gets to Friday and the weekend I go to my dads. When there’s a weekend I don’t got to my dads, my mom forces me to go somewhere with her. It’s been so draining, I just want a weekend to go straight to a house and actually get some rest. I’ve been so burnt out from this that I don’t have the motivation to do school work or personal work and that just adds even more stress to everything.

My mom has been losing her cool a lot more recently, especially with my dogs. I’m genuinely scared she might kill them. I love my dogs to death and I don’t know what I’ll do without them.

So much shit has been happening that I’m sure that it doesn’t matter what I think anymore. I’m just a punching bag, I’m only alive to make people feel better about themselves, my feelings don’t matter. I’m tired but I can’t sleep in the same house with a women like her. I just want this to stop.

I wanted to wait a little longer but I keep getting pushed to the edge to just end it all now and no longer have to deal with this pain.

I have no point in writing this vent, this is probably all fake. I’m just faking all of this, I’m not sad I’m just doing this for attention and I hate myself for it.

#personal vent

[ohmym1stake]

infodumping about my grey's anatomy blorbos: edition #2

this time around i am midway thru season 10.... my #1 blorbo is about to leave and im worried and scared because of some spoilers i read. but anyways here is my current analysis!

BLORBOS

- meredith grey. we started off rocky but i love and support her wholeheartedly now. has done the least stupid stuff as a doctor! bonus points for that. has gone through so much more than she deserves.

- derek shepherd. has done a lot of stupid shit and is a very stupid and reckless man. but underneath all of that he is a good man who wants to do good and help people. an amazing father!!!! and husband.

- cristina yang. the closest to perfect. i wish she would stop making awful relationship decisions. in my world she is happily married to a woman. a nurse, maybe.

- george o'malley. my perfect perfect son. ohhhhh my son. i am so sorry you died. i wish you had gotten to be happy with callie and have a great little family together and be an amazing surgeon.

- callie torres. brilliant surgeon brilliant woman. a little stupid at times. but i think her strengths are all way stronger than that.

- mark sloan. also very stupid! but in a very charming way. was amazing to watch him grow and change.

- lexie grey. deserved a better exit from the show wtffff. got used as an extra trauma to throw at meredith or something like damn. she was amazing and excellent in her own right. justice for lexiepedia.

- april kepner. BABYYYYYY. amazing and deserves the world, honestly. i have nothing but admiration for her i think.

- heather brooks. AAAAAAGH?!!!!! she was so cute and fun and brought an energy to the show nobody else has! deserved soooo much better.

HALF BLORBOS.

- alex karev. has done too many messy and problematic things to be a full blorbo but like derek he is ultimately a good man who wants to do good. amazing peds surgeon. can't wait to see him as a dad i bet he'll be a little league coach.

- miranda bailey. now normally she would be full blorbo but she's been bothering me a little lately! amazing surgeon! amazing woman! but she needs to get her life more under control or something.

BLORBO BY ASSOCIATION

- jackson avery. i was gonna put him in "it won't work" but it could eventually idk. he's great for april and a good doctor! i don't like his face tho and mostly he kinda bores me

- reed adamson. i think i would have loved her so much if she got to live longer. i think about her and april a lot.

PARTIAL BLORBOS

- addison montgomery. i think i just don't see her enough to be a full blorbo. excellent character tho.

- teddy altman. i think when she comes back on the show she'll get an upgrade but right now she's away and not on my mind. she was pretty damn good tho.

- stephanie edwards. she's really great but right now her plot is kind of just avery. i hope to love her more soon!

EX BLORBOS.

- izzie stevens. used to be my favorite.... she was so great. honestly i blame cancer for everything. Except the denny lvad thing i think that was precancer. but the romance with george that she dropped so fast? and then doing all that crap to alex? unforgivable. i hope she finds happiness in a new life with new people but i want her far away from my blorbos.

IT WILL NEVER WORK BUT I DON'T HATE YOU

- owen hunt. i DO hate his pro-life stance. treated cristina awfully there. but he is also the best love interest she had. and he's a great trauma surgeon, and the best chief i have seen! we just have too many differences to ever truly blorb together.

- arizona robbins. Honestly? most of the time i Do hate her. but i also respect her too much to Anti her. especially her growth after losing her leg! but it fucking sucked for callie. i think if the show had kept mark alive i could have gotten along with her more but she has been awful to callie way too much.

- leah murphy. Mad respect for her crazy but her emotions are also what ruined her. i hope she has a good career elsewhere.

- ben warren. sometimes he's good for bailey sometimes he makes her worse. but i respect him.

I DON'T KNOW

- jo wilson. uhhhh..... she just kinda exists i don't know. sometimes she's good for alex. but i am not very interested in her. does not spark joy.

- charles percy. i think we would have had a very rocky relationship had he lived but i think the way they killed him was very artful? it was one of the best death scenes i have seen.

ANTI BLORBOS.

- richard webber. he has done too much fuckass shit and acted insufferably FAR too many times. way more tolerable as a general surgeon and not as chief but still incredibly irritating.

- preston burke. took advantage of cristina in so many ways and never once truly considered himself and his own actions. selfish, awful man.

- erica hahn. Too bitter. involved emotions in her work in a way i disliked? i think she was never meant to be a main character.

- shane ross. Bruh what the fuckkkkk. he has done way too much wrong. maybe someday if we actually tackle the fact that he kinda Killed heather we can be at least partial or something but ..... i don't want him on this show.

- ellis grey. Noooooope. don't even care about all her groundbreaking work or her disease or whatever. i want nothing to do with her.

- adele webber. i hated her so much and there was no reason to make her so evil and irritating so much??????? the show would have been way more interesting and webber might have been more redeemable if she had been Good.

- sloan riley. this girl pissed me offffff like she went thru it she was having a bad time but ultimately she just ruined shit for mark and lexie and that sucks.

- catherine avery. whenever shes around and is rude to jackson he becomes a temporary blorbo. he doesn't deserve the shit she puts him through. frustrating character overall. But! mad respect to her work as a urologist she always brings interesting cases to the show!

#suzy infodumps #greys