#I know I will survive but at what cost...

[heeseungiez]

building keyboards! l.hs

pairing! lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis! in which you want to celebrate your one year anniversary with your boyfriend

genre! established relationship, fluff

word count! 1.2k

author’s note! i have been cursed by a keyboard obsession since before i even got into enhypen, so ofc i had to write something short and cute with heeseung

currently playing . . . highway 1009 by enhypen !

You met Heeseung entirely by chance. The two of you moved in completely different social circles, yet you somehow managed to find each other when it mattered the most. He was the popular guy on campus, whereas you were just a girl. A student trying to survive university life, juggling studying and a part-time job to keep yourself afloat.

The first time you met Heeseung was in the summer. After you managed to get through freshman year without failing a single class, you enjoyed your time off in a tech store, looking over different kinds of mechanical keyboards and computer components. You must’ve looked like an employee because Heeseung chose to approach you specifically to ask you a question about the new Keychron keyboards. And whilst you were not working at the store, you did know enough about the best, pretty affordable keyboards on the market. Including the new Keychrons. So you indulged him rather than telling him that you were not, in fact, working there.

Unbeknownst to you (he shared that later into your relationship), Heeseung continued going to the tech store during the summer in hopes of encountering you again, which was how he came to the conclusions that 1) you were truly not working there, and 2) he should’ve asked for your number.

It was only his luck that in the following winter semester, he happened to be a TA of one of the computer language classes you signed up for in your second year. He did not miss his chance to get to know you then, and the first time he asked you out was after the winter semester, when he was no longer the TA in your class.

It’s been a year since the two of you officially became boyfriend and girlfriend, and you got the most brilliant idea for how to celebrate your one year anniversary. It cost quite a good deal of money, but you knew it would be worth it in the end.

When you knocked on the door of Heeseung’s dorm room with two large plastic bags in hand, you knew he wasn’t home. However, at least one of his dorm mates should be, which was proven to you when Jay opened the door.

He looked at you with furrowed brows, and before he could tell you that Heeseung wasn’t there, you stopped him with: “I know, he’s not here. That’s the point.”

You didn’t even wait for the man to invite you inside. Rather, you made your way past him, taking your shoes off and heading toward the living room area to place everything on the dining table they had.

“What exactly are you doing, Y/N?” Jay asked, standing in the hallway like a father of three children with his hands on his hips.

“Preparing a surprise for Hee,” you replied simply, unpacking your boxes with mechanical switches, keycaps, keyboard cases, brushes, lube (for the switches), foam, tape, switch and keycap pullers and many other items necessary for building and modding your own keyboard. Since Keychrons were Heeseung’s favourite, you mainly went for components of that brand, but you were personally a fan of Akko keyboards, so you sneaked in a few switches from them for more options, too.

“Are you planning to build keyboards with him?”

You hummed with a nod of agreement, grinning.

“What do you think?” You turn to Jay once you have everything set up on the table.

“That Heeseung’s a lucky bastard,” Jay murmured under his breath, and you giggled.

“So it’s good, right?”

“Duh.” Jay shook his head, staring at everything you prepared. “Are you trying to one-up him? ‘Cause I don’t think he can come up with anything better than this.”

You shrugged, smiling. “I don’t really care. Seeing him smile is all I need.”

Jay rubbed his face. “Lucky bastard,” he repeated again. “I’ll make sure he knows that.”

“You’re too sweet,” you said, checking the time. Heeseung should be home from his class in about fifteen minutes. You knew only because he had texted you the approximate time when he would get home after you told him you had a surprise for him.

“So sweet that I’m gonna get lost and leave you two here alone.” He nodded, going to his room to grab some things. “Just text me whenever you guys are done, so I know I can come home.”

“Sure, sure, will do,” you mutter while eyeing your work. Not that spreading miscellaneous keyboard components was hard work, but you were already fighting the urge to start building a keyboard without Heeseung here.

After Jay left, you were alone in the dorm room for about three seconds. Heeseung burst into the dorm room with his backpack hanging over one shoulder, eyes already searching for you since he probably ran into Jay on his way here.  

You smiled, watching him drop everything on the floor just to approach you.

“Surprise!” you exclaimed, pointing at the messy table.

Heeseung blinked at you, glancing between the keyboards and you in confusion. “What—”

“I have everything! And for modding, I have lube and foam and tape! Isn’t it awesome?” you asked, picking up each item you named.

Heeseung laughed at how innocently you said that despite its many possible meanings. Running a hand through his hair, he felt a swelling in his heart at the sight of your excited form over building keyboards. It was an interest you both shared, and he was eternally grateful for finding you over it every day. 

“You know—” he grinned, picking up the lube— “when you said you had a surprise for me, I didn’t think the only thing I’d be lubing today would be keyboard switches.”

You giggled, shrugging. “But you like it anyway, right?”

“I love it,” Heeseung said, grinning. “I love you,” he added, sitting down next to you at the table. “That’s what matters the most, right?”

Leaning toward you, he cupped your chin and connected your foreheads. You couldn’t stop smiling as your heart drummed in your ears, your whole body seeping with love for the man in front of you.

“I love you, too,” you replied, connecting your lips in a brief kiss. “But can we start with building our keyboards? I want to make mine sound creamy… or should I go for thocky? I can’t decide.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “I hope you know I don’t have much space in my room anymore.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it.” You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “Unless being able to play Twister in your room is a requirement.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “For the two of us? Might as well be.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you lightly slapped his shoulders, your cheeks heating up.

“Shut up,” you mumbled. 

Heeseung giggled, capturing your lips in another, longer and much sweeter kiss. 

“Thank you for all of this, though,” he said after, pointing at the setup. “My surprise suddenly seems lame.”

“What is it?” You pouted, curiosity taking over you.

“I’d rather not say right now.” Heeseung shook his head. “Maybe you’ll find out later.”

“That’s so mean.”

tag list! @moonpri (send an ask to be added to the permanent tag list!!)

[intairnwetrust]

You know I am usually someone to easily call out Xaden (especially on his communication issues in Iron Flame *cough* call out *cough* lol )

But now I actually need to defend him in regards of what he said and how some people receive it:

"In the years after my father died, I forgot what it felt like to be loved. [...] But then you (Violet) gave those words to me, and I remembered..."

And then you have responses like:

Garrik, Liam, Bodhi, Imogen: What I am? A roach?

Basically pointing the finger at Xaden, what about your friends who love you?

Where I need to say okay first valid or rather understandable response.

Buuut I think people are to harsh here on Xaden. I'm deliberately simplifying this here, Xaden's life consisted of two parts, the revolution and survival. Violet gave him love outside of that. It was something new, something, looking at the quote above, he didn't even knew in the beginning he wanted or maybe didn't dare to want. (Also Violet is awesome! Who can blame him? Edit: and look his new BC he is a total simp for her, as he should be)

"Now, Riorson."

I can't keep from wincing. She never uses my last name. Maybe it's because she doesn't like to remember that I'm Fen Riorson's son, and all my father cost her, but I've always been Xaden to her. The loss feels like a bottomless abyss, like a death blow.

"I've always been Xaden to her" and look how shattered poor boy was when he thought he lost that. With Violet he was not Fen Riorson's son, he was not his last name which symbolizes the proclamation of the revolution, the continued existence of the revolution. He was just Xaden with Violet. Just a man.

But now let's look at his love for his friends and at the beginning of the very same letter which brings you an understanding of his feelings

"Then I entered the quadrant and became the monster everyone needed me to be, and I never regretted it."

Who is everyone? Every person being part of the revolution. He consciously tried to forget the feeling of love because that would help the revolution best. Cold and calculating. But who is also part of the revolution? His friends. With his friends he was also Xaden, but not only. The revolution became a huge part of their lives.

I think with his friends their love and loyalty became the same thing for him. That's why Xaden said only when Violet came along he remembered what love meant. Don't get me wrong, in a healthy relationship it goes hand in hand but it's not the same and I think it just became too blurry over time and given circumstances alas being key figures in a revolution.

Also I understand when people say they want to see more of Xaden's friendships, same I am no different, but the lack of these relationships is due to the fact that the books are currently only from Violet's POV, after all they are Xaden's friends and not hers. I mean every chapter we had in his POV there were always interactions with his friends (except his chapter at the end of IF) and we can all agree we loved them (I hope so lol)

I hope it makes sense what i am trying to say i just think people are to harsh here on Xaden became in the end of the day he cares for his friends. Both sides would go through hell for the other, if you look at their lives you can safely say it's their "I love you"

[regretsofaghost]

Survival May Be the Hardest Part

part 1- I Couldn't Give What It Cost Me

ao3 link- here

Danny couldn’t focus.

He needed to focus, to save, to keep something, with Batman. From Batman?

                Danny kept looking in his peripherals, images of white suited men, teal and bright orange HAZMAT suits, people that left before he could get a clear look at them.

                He needed to know for sure.

                He couldn’t.

                Phantom stepped away from Batman, unused to the feeling of wind on his bare face as he flew up. He hoped the other man was okay, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t. Whatever he saw when Phantom had removed his mask had shaken the older hero.

                Phantom could power through most things, he had to.

                Phantom was the only thing standing between ghosts and the living.

                The only thing that wanted both sides to be safe.

                Was Scarecrow ready for a real ghost?

                A real manifestation of fear, of the dead? Something so otherworldly that you could just barely comprehend it?

                Phantom didn’t really understand what he did. All he knew for sure was that he didn’t want anyone hurt, including Scarecrow.

                He couldn’t give into his urges like he had with Freakshow.

                Danny liked the stars; he liked them a lot.

                It’s one of the reasons he loved Amity Park so much, the night sky was so clear that he could see distant stars and planets, some nights the Milky Way looked close enough to touch.

                It was one of the only things he could think of while under Freakshow’s influence, his stars. Danny couldn’t remember much other than his stars, how odd it was that they were tinted ever so slightly red, his eyes drifting to the sky at every opportunity.

                Sam liked to say it was that reason she knew she wouldn’t die from her fall off the tightrope. If Danny could remember his stars, if he could seek them out and lose himself to them like he normally would, he would remember Sam and Tucker.

                Bruce had been keeping an eye on the new meta in Gotham, a mysterious figure who wore a black HAZMAT suit, complete with a gas mask which obscured their face. Of course, Batman had wanted to meet this figure, but the Family was having trouble setting up a meeting.

                Their abilities made tracking them near impossible, new powers seemingly appearing every week. Or perhaps the meta refrained from using their full arsenal, it was impossible to tell. Intangibility made them impossible to contain, flight made them harder to catch, invisibility made the Family lose track of them regularly. That was ignoring how the meta messed with their technology, much of it shorting out when they got close enough to detect them.

                It was like they were dealing with a real ghost.

                Running the meta’s appearance through reverse image searches lead the Family to social media, where Barbara was able to get past a fire wall surrounding a small town. Phantom was their, or rather his, name. He was a hero, or a vigilante, or a villain, depending on who you asked. He appeared to exhibit villainous behaviour at points, however with how rare it was, mind control in those instances was not ruled out.

                Amity Park had a ghost problem, and it seemed that they received a ghost savior in the process.

                Bruce didn’t know what to think of that.

                Danny remembered stars.

                He kept looking up, hoping to see the tiny specks in the distance, the moon should be full.

                The smog was too thick to see through.

                He wanted to see his stars.

                It was dark. There was a thunderstorm happening, flashed of bright light followed by booms of thunder every few minutes. Just enough time for Danny to relax, never enough to feel safe.

                He forgot about those fears. Those childish fears of the dark, the ingrained fear of electricity.

                Maybe that’s why the lightning looked more green than white, like it should.

                He had to protect them. He had to find Scarecrow.

                Target the ghost, the perpetrator, help deal with the fallout afterward.

                Danny’s face was wet, he didn’t realize rain could touch a ghost.

                Scrodinger’s cat, neither dead nor alive till you opened the box, both dead and alive till you lifted the lid.

                Danny didn’t want to open the box.

                Phantom drifted upward, eyes scanning for Scarecrow, recognizing the dissociation for what it was.

                If he didn’t register the white, teal, and orange, he could do it.

                Bingo.

                Scarecrow was in front of him, taunting? The rain was too loud, the lightning too distracting. Phantom couldn’t tell, couldn’t see his mouth, the mask over the other’s face.

                Phantom lifted a gloved hand, sending a weaker ghost ray towards the man. Scarecrow was still sent back into the building behind him.

                Maybe he wasn’t as present as he thought.

                Fear gas was still thick in the air, Phantom could still see the Fentons in the corners of his vision, gloves bloody and suits damaged, he didn’t hurt them. Did he? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t.

                Phantom stood over Scarecrow, tilting his head at the odd energy surrounding the man. He hadn’t seen ghosts react like that before, the way they seemed desperate to get away, only to be pulled back in, like the man was a drain they couldn’t escape.

                Danny thought of a mixture of red and green going down the drain.

                The Bats were busy, Batman was closer than he usually got.

                Batman still had Phantom’s mask on.

                Batman could still see Danny’s face.

                “Do you know fear?” Phantom found himself asking, looking down at the Scarecrow. His voice sounded so odd without the muffling of his mask, that was until he remembered that his voice was not coming strictly from his mouth. It was also coming out of the speakers in the area, a damaged store’s intercom, a police car’s siren, com links. It made his voice crackle, high and low frequencies cutting in and out.

                It nearly sounded like he was borrowing others’ voices.

                The Scarecrow struggled to answer, which was odd. Phantom didn’t want to know why he struggled.

                “I think you think you know fear, Scarecrow,” Phantom breathed out, the crackle worsening in the speaker closest to him, “you know it’s not simply what goes bump in the night.”

                Phantom walked closer, white, teal, orange, orange, white, teal, orange.

                There was a boom of thunder in the distance, a flash of green lightening illuminating Danny’s face.

                White, teal, red, red, orange, red, white, green, white, teal, orange.

                “Phobias are easy. The best way to scare someone is with rational fears. Something that can, and will, harm them.”

                White, teal, orange.

                “Are you afraid of ghosts, Doctor Crane?”

                Phantom kept looking up at the sky. Bruce wasn’t sure why.

                There was almost longing in his young face, jaw still soft with age despite the malnourished way his cheeks sunk in. His green eyes were hazy, never truly focusing, even as he searched for something he seemed to struggle to find. His white hair whipped around his face, shaggy in a way that suggested it was kept short but had grown out.

                Phantom was young, younger than estimates suggested. Why was a child wearing a HAZMAT suit? Why did he seem so proficient in engineering?

                Phantom asked Scarecrow if he was afraid of ghosts.

                What killed a child in a HAZMAT suit?

                What prompted Phantom into giving Bruce his mask?

                Phantom wasn’t reacting like one normally would under fear gas, but Bruce knew it wasn’t because he was immune.

                Maybe it was because he was a dad, but he knew when a child was scared, and Phantom was terrified.

                Danny remembered searching for the stars, before he was diving to save a Robin from falling.

                Freakshow never really learned, he was human, but he was the same as the ghosts he took over. Never really learning from his mistakes.

                Or maybe he thought he figured Phantom out.

                Danny could remember holding Freakshow over the ledge, his staff broken below them.

                He could remember the feeling of Freakshow’s suit jacket in his hands, the rubber of his gloves just barely slipping.

                “You got your sequel, I’m not letting you make it a trilogy.”

                His hand let go.

                Phantom let Lady Gotham take Freakshow, leaving before the Bats could arrive.

                Phantom was standing over Scarecrow.

                He was so small, how did they ever think he was older than 18.

                Scrodinger’s cat, dead and alive.

                Phantom had a civilian identity.

                “Oracle?”

                “B-zzzzzz-t’s? C-zzzz-me? -zzzzzz- get a-zzzzz-al.”

                No luck, it’ll have to wait.

                Batman was slow to approach.

                There was no need to scare the kid further, with what he’s seen so far, Phantom wouldn’t hurt him, but fear gas was powerful.

                “Phantom?”

                The ghost turned towards him, and Bruce had to breathe deeply as his body tensed, chills running down his spine, his palms went sweaty.

                All precursors to fear that Batman was used to ignoring.

                “We’ll lock him up. Let me take him.”

                Bright green eyes, hazy, hands loose at his sides. Phantom was terrified, but he didn’t act on it. Strange.

Phantom’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch something that wasn’t there. His breath was coming out in puffs of mist, despite the temperature, though Bruce couldn’t complain, the mist meant he could tell that the child was hyperventilating.

                Scrodinger’s cat, both dead and alive

                Bruce hoped his comment about fear wasn’t from experience. He knew it was.

                “Phantom, let me take Scarecrow,” Bruce put a bit more of a demand behind his words, taking a small step forward. He held his hands within view, making it clear he had nothing in them, and wasn’t reaching for anything.

                Phantom watched him so closely, he probably forgot his face was exposed. He let Batman get close though.

                The fear gas was slowly dissipating around them. Good, they had Scarecrow, the others had taken care of the gas, and now, Bruce was within ten feet of the mysterious meta who had managed to avoid the full force of Gotham’s vigilantes.

                Phantom watched as Batman cuffed the Scarecrow, the masked villain never letting his eyes leave the ghost.

                Phantom looked towards the sky again, seeing a glimpse of the night sky, a single star, before there was a shooting pain through his side.

                The ghost came crashing to the ground, the pain a terrifying familiar feeling, Danny struggled to keep his transformation up, even as his eyes darted around the crowd, white, white, white.

                Teal, orange.

                White.

                Phantom was gone.

[fatkish]

Demon Child 10:

(Third to last chapter I have planned. T^T)

You and Shinobu continued on your way to the butterfly estate. When you got there, Shinobu brought you to a room and made sure to give you a pitcher of water and a cup to drink from. While Everyone began the Hashira training, you would be in your room, collecting your saliva and tears. Shinobu gave you a bowl to cry and drool into. The plan was to mix your healing tears and saliva with medicine so that the swordsman of the corps would have a better chance at survival. Once the drool/tear mixture was mixed with pain relieving medicine, it would be bottled into small vials.

You laid on a bed with your face hanging over one of the sides. You struggled to drool and cry so Shinobu suggested that you think of sad things in order to cry and tasty food or bite your tongue to drool. You thought back to how everyone could or would die when fighting Muzan. You thought of losing everyone. You thought about them defeating Muzan only to die from their marks or wounds. You thought of how you would end up all alone again. Without realizing it, you began to cry. You bit your tongue, causing your mouth to water and drool to seep out into the bowl.

You don’t know how long you had continued to cry and drool for because you had cried yourself to sleep. When Shinobu entered the room, she saw you were asleep. Looking down she saw that you had filled the bowl a decent amount. She picked up the bowl and brought it to Aoi who began to mix it and bottle it. As you slept, you found yourself back at that mountain where you met the man who taught you to use your blood demon art. You walked up to the house and found him inside. You went and sat next to him. “I can tell you are upset, what causes you to be sad?” He asked. You looked up at him and laid your head on his thigh.

“All my friends are gonna die. Even if they beat Muzan, they die from the marks” you said. You sniffled as you tried not to cry. “I see. You must not have known this, but you possess the ability to negate the effects of the demon slayer mark. Just as you healed the Ubuyashiki’s of their curse, you can heal your friends. But it will come with a cost. Once you heal them, they can no longer use breathing techniques other than the basics. If they do, if they use breathing styles after being healed, their marks will return, and you won’t be able to fix them.” He spoke.

You looked up at him from in his lap. “I can save my friends? How does I do that?” You asked. “The same way I taught you before. Focus on your intent to heal, channel it into energy, and then focus that energy on your friend and release it.” He told you. You thought on it for a moment, memorizing the information. You then realized something, “how you know all this?” You asked him. The man smiled and gentle pet your head. “Because I knew your mother. She wanted to bring life into the world instead of taking it. When I met her, she had been trying for a long time to have a child but was unsuccessful. She suspected that she needed something for her cells to bond to, to fuse with, so she asked me if I knew anyone who would be willing to donate genetic material for her cells to fuse with. I didn’t really see an issue with it, so I said yes.” He spoke.

He held a solemn look on his face despite his usual lack of emotion. “It must have taken many years for her to successfully create a child. One who was half human and half demon without her body attacking the child. It would seem as though she gave her life in order to create one.” He told you. “I had a mama? Who she?” You looked up at the man expectantly. He just looked down at you and softly smiled. “Her name was Minako. Minako Kibutsuji.” Your eyes widened recognizing that name. “You have the power to fight Muzan and defeat him, she made sure of it. We believe in you. It seems as though our time is up” he said as the world around you began to fade.

You looked around you at your fading surroundings. You still had one question on your mind. “Who you?” You asked. “My name is Yoriichi Tsugikuni” was the last thing you heard him say. What you didn’t hear him say was that he was your father. He smiled as he knew that you wouldn’t be returning. He was happy to have met his child. He and Uta hadn’t been able to have their child and live together. You would never replace his unborn child that died, but he still thought of you as his own. He loves you just as he loves Uta and his unborn child. He was happy that you had friends, he just hoped that you would be able to do what he couldn’t.

When you woke up, you were faced with a beautiful woman who had purple eyes and black hair. She smiled gently at you as you stared at her. “Hello little one, my name is Tamayo, it’s nice to meet you.” She said. You were curious as to who this lady was as you didn’t recognize her. “Ah, y/n, it seems you’ve met our guest. Would you like to help us make medicine? You’ve already supplied us with plenty of your saliva and tears.” Shinobu asked. You remembered what the man had said and it filled you with an intense desire to train. “I go train” you said. You got up and left the room. You began to head straight for Gyomei’s estate in the mountains as you wanted to be strong like him.

“Oh my, I wonder what’s gotten into them?” Shinobu said. “It could be that they realized who they really are.” Tamayo said. “And what would you mean by that?” Shinobu asked. “They are the offspring of Kibutsuji’s sister. They are the key to defeating Muzan Kibutsuji.” Tamayo informed Shinobu. Shinobu’s eyes widened as she wasn’t expecting that. She quickly made sure to inform the master of this new information. Unaware that Kagaya had known this all along. His family had been watching over Minako while she was alive, but after giving birth, they didn’t realize that she had died in order to bring life into this world. Kagaya had ordered each of the Hashira to carry two vials of your healing elixir on them. That way when the time came to fight, they would have the ability to heal fatal injuries, twice.

You continued on your way to Gyomei’s estate when you met up with Genya. You walked with him to Gyomei’s estate and were determined to get beefy like Gyomei. When you saw Gyomei you ran over to him and grabbed onto his legs. “Teach me be super strong like you!” You shouted as you looked up at him. Gyomei tilted his head down, as if he were looking at you. “I do not know if that is wise little y/n. But your sentiment is very much appreciated. Namu amida butsu. Such a kind child.” Gyomei spoke. You frowned as you wanted to be strong enough to help your friends.

When Gyomei left, you tried to stand under the waterfall but got washed away immediately by the river’s current. Genya had to save you and forbade your from going back to the waterfall or the deeper waters. You saw some other people were carrying logs and running with them so you tried to do that. You tried to lift a log and managed to lift it above you, you called to Genya who was shocked, but he quickly became horrified when the log slipped from your fingers and trapped you under it. Genya had to stifle his laughter as you looked kind of like a beetle squirming with your arms and legs in the air. Genya lifted the log off of you and decided that he would help you since you were determined. He set up a small training area for you.

Gyomei observed from the shadows as you struggled to lift rocks that were tied to ropes over a branch. You struggled to carry small logs on your shoulders as you ran. Everything you attempted to do, you struggled with. This caused Gyomei to cry as he was both worried about you yet moved by your determination. It took weeks but finally you were able to lift the rocks that were tied over a branch. You were able to run with the logs on your shoulders. Some of the other demon slayers were amazed at your determination and strength.

When Tanjiro arrived, you decided you were ready to try the waterfall again. Straining the muscles in your legs, you walked through the river’s currents and stood beneath the waterfall. You copied the other demon slayers and stood beneath there. What you didn’t realize was that your body was physically changing, transforming to adapt to what your were putting it through. Tanjiro was amazed and congratulated you on what you had accomplished. You smiled at him and continued to train. You and Tanjiro trained together and progressed through Gyomei’s training. Unaware of Gyomei observing you both.

After some time, Tanjiro had managed to push his boulder through a village just as Gyomei had instructed him to. You were still struggling since you were half of Tanjiro’s height. When Tanjiro left, he said goodbye to you before leaving. You stayed with Genya and began working on your blood demon art. Genya helped you by creating multiple dummy targets out of wood for you. You both trained, him on his aiming with the gun and you with your bubble. You managed to learn how to summon your bubble on command and you learned how to control the attacks within it.

The dummies you trained with were sliced into pieces and you trained on accuracy. You were able to target certain things and avoid others. Your training had gone well. One night, you were with Genya when you sensed a malicious presence. You knew this presence, you knew this evil. Muzan Kibutsuji was near. You looked at Genya and were about to warn him when you both heard a loud boom. You looked off into the distance and saw a massive cloud of fire and smoke. There had been an explosion. You knew that area, that was in the direction of Kagaya’s home. You were about to run off in that direction when you and Genya fell through a Shoji door on the ground.

You and Genya began to fall into a maze like palace of doors, rooms, hallways and stairways. As you fell you grabbed onto Genya and didn’t let go. You created a bubble around you both to cushion your landing. When Genya got up, you jumped onto his shoulders and you both began to run through the place. As Genya ran, you would use your blood demon art to slice any demons you came across. Unlike other demons, you can kill demons with your blood demon art. Perhaps it’s the Kibutsuji cells in your body that gives your blood demon art the ability to kill them.

Tag List: @shortneko @tomiokasecretlover @jspidey5

[freedarick]

I am sad (financially)

[welcometogrouchland]

I like to think that when the batfamily inevitably runs out of money and jobless Bruce, Tim, and Dick* find themselves in financial need, Steph reveals that she's made thousands of dollars taking odd jobs around Gotham City that we just never saw bc Steph hasn't been in a comic for months. Nobody checked in on her and while they weren't looking she made 6 grand babysitting and playing piano at a local theatre. Bruce has to grovel for enough money to buff out a scratch on the batmobile and Steph is revelling in it. This is the closest she's ever going to get to being a supervillain

*(Cass and Jason don't need money to survive on account of being homeless as kids + Babs funds Cass' basic needs and Damian is on his mom's payroll, same w/ duke even if it's obvs not al ghul money)

[thatoneluckybee]

...WELL THEN

KIRSI BABY NO

[jahiera]

pondering on a meta diving into Gale's abstract brand of selflessness (willingness to go away to a corner of the world to die so that none of the faceless masses will be harmed by his mistake) vs his personal selfishness (willingness to stick by tav despite being repulsed by tiefling camp murder + general vocal approval or interest in accumulating more power) and Gale's status as someone who is good aligned but generally ineffectual at enforcing actual good (the way that wyll or karlach will actually leave the party) which is fascinating for a fairly good-aligned person. just love when the Good Guy is actually kind of fucking weird. edit: tumblr cut off my tags Okay. and how all of this ties back in an interesting way to his relationship and power imbalance with mystra. he was wronged, deeply, but he also desires still that ... status / closeness to divinity in some way, by her influence. Gale thinks that he would be a better god simply by virtue of his mortality but he cannot escape the appeal of holding himself apart from others and being more than, greater than, something closer to godliness and thus inherently removed from mortal values and standards of right and wrong, which the gods themselves don't adhere to in the same way.

[featheredadora]

I know this is a bird blog but...yikes guys, things aren't doing so good over here in the UK at the moment

Being poor is not a moral failing (though it is a societal failing - no one should have to live in poverty), and poor people deserve more than just survival!

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

I am once again daydreaming of making my own social media platform and how to make it not give a hoot about American laws (no relation to American soil, I'm European anyway) and be structurally resistant to enshitification through independence and community ownership unfortunately I am one inexperienced programmer with not much spare change to throw at such a gamble so I'm only daydreaming

[iftitah]

there was a buffalo that was about to die soon but we were not allowed to tell it to the owner

[philcoulsonismyhero]

I keep getting rejected from conventions that I've been doing for multiple years this year and I heard on Friday that I didn't get Scotland Comic Con, which I've relied on for the last two years to be able to pay my fucking rent over the winter when there's no events, and it makes me want to scream because what the fuck am I supposed to do about it?? I'm making new stuff reasonably regularly, I make really good sales when I get into cons, I go out of my way to be reliable and show up on time and do everything they want exhibitors to do, and it's just flat rejection after flat rejection, sometimes without even the courtesy of a spot on a waiting list or a cursory 'sorry, we got a lot of applicants and we've got limited space'.

I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I don't think I even am doing anything wrong, I'm just getting repeatedly fucked over by event organisers who just see me as a way of increasing their own ticket sales rather than a human being trying to make a living.

And, like, part of me gets that I've been doing this for a while and folks who are new to it deserve a chance to get a foot in the door, but my ability to be charitable runs out when the biggest convention in the country decides no, we don't have enough room in our fuck-off huge venue for everyone so bye, fuck you, that ~15% of your yearly income that you rely on making at this con is just going up in smoke.

I like doing conventions, I'm good at it and it's fun, but it's getting Really Fucking Stressful to have my ability to eat and pay bills decided increasingly arbitrarily by the same five events companies who don't seem to give the slightest shit about anyone.

And I don't know what to do about it because the reason I'm doing this is because I'm too fucking autistic to get a real job, and I got kicked to the kerb by the benefits lot a few years ago because that system's fucking broken too, and the more effort I put in the less work I seem to actually get and frankly I want to fucking break something

[meyerlansky]

I have successfully boiled my problem with most of the izzy reads that i hate down to a sentence:

he's not sexually repressed, he's emotionally repressed.

[castielafflicted]

what should i do with the $1.39 in my bank account im open to suggestions

[sunfoxfic]

*grits teeth* Skyrim is a fun game and I'm having fun

[straydogged]

VIBRATES LOUDLY