#and so she died in the most impossibly poetic way

[krashlite]

Thinking about how the death that broke the canary curse happened in the End and how the End has Strange Properties in general

Pulling this concept over with part of my self-inflicted-curse concept

With said concept Jimmy’s the canary because his hope and determination manifests in a sort of safety net around the server. He saves them through virtue of Being Alive and being a hopeful moron (/pos). Under normal circumstances, no one can die until he does

Lizzie was already in a hopeless state because she was so isolated. It was hard enough to hear the “song” from where she was, but her going to the End cut her off completely (again, weird qualities)

With the safety net gone, she’s able to fall

Also should say that while I don’t think Lizzie has the curse now, I do think her circumstances were essential in breaking it. She fell into a despair so deep even the manifestation of hope couldn’t save her

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter four of four!

wc. 3.2K

↳ part 1 | part 2 | part 3

The beach house had settled into a rhythm. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi had kept the energy alive with beach games, bad jokes, and playful arguments. Even you had begun to relax, finding moments of peace between the tension that still occasionally surfaced between you and Gojo. But for the most part, the trip was turning out to be just what you needed—a break from everything that had happened, a chance to breathe.

It wasn’t until the third day, when the sun was high in the sky and the others were down by the shore, that Gojo’s phone rang. He was lounging on the deck, sipping something cold, when the shrill sound of his ringtone broke the lazy quiet. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see Shoko’s name flash across it.

He raised an eyebrow but answered, casually leaning back in his chair. “Hey, Shoko. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Shoko’s voice came through sharp and annoyed, a tone Gojo didn’t often hear from her. “Are you out of your mind, Gojo?”

Gojo blinked, sitting up straighter at the edge in her voice. “What’s this about?”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Shoko sighed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. “You know what this is about. You dragged them— her —to your beach house? For spring break?”

Gojo frowned, confused. “Yeah, we needed a break. So what?”

“So what? Gojo, are you seriously that oblivious?” Shoko snapped. “Or are you really trying to make her fall in love with you all over again?”

Gojo froze, the words hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “What? No! That’s not—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure. Was that what he was doing? Was that why he’d invited everyone here? Why he’d made sure you came along?

Shoko’s silence on the other end was damning. She let out a frustrated huff before continuing. “Gojo, you might be the strongest sorcerer in the world, but when it comes to this, you’re clueless. Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting her in the same position she was in before the surgery.”

Gojo stood up, moving to the edge of the deck, his hand running through his hair. “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he insisted, though even as he said it, doubt began creeping in. “I just… I wanted to figure things out. With her. With all of this.”

“Figure things out?” Shoko’s voice was laced with disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? She almost died because of how deeply she loved you. And now, after all that, you’re bringing her here, spending time with her like this… What do you think is going to happen, Gojo? She’ll just magically fall in love with you again? And this time it’ll be fine because you’re paying attention?”

Gojo clenched his jaw, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t been trying to manipulate anything—he hadn’t meant for this trip to turn into some kind of emotional trap. But now, hearing Shoko lay it out so plainly, he couldn’t ignore the truth.

Was that what he was doing? Trying to pull you back into his orbit, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you’d fall for him again? He hadn’t even realized it, but now that Shoko had said it out loud, it was impossible to ignore.

“I didn’t…” He trailed off, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“No, you didn’t,” Shoko said, her voice softer but still firm. “You’ve never been good at thinking about the emotional fallout, Gojo. And I get it—you’re used to being able to fix things with power or clever words. But this isn’t something you can just fix by inviting her to a beach house.”

Gojo leaned against the railing, staring out at the ocean, his mind racing. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t realized how deeply he was still entangled in everything that had happened between the two of you. But now, with Shoko’s words ringing in his ears, he couldn’t deny the truth. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he had started wanting you to love him again.

He didn’t even know when it had started—maybe it was when he had seen you for the first time after the surgery, standing there with the weight of your love for him gone. Or maybe it was when you had told him, with fear in your voice, that you were afraid of falling for him again. Either way, it was there now, lingering in the back of his mind, in every look, every word.

Shoko’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look, Gojo… I know you care about her. But you need to be careful. If you really want to help her, if you really care about her, you need to stop thinking about what you want and start thinking about what’s best for her.”

Gojo let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the railing. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt her, Shoko.”

“I know you weren’t,” Shoko replied, her tone softer now. “But just be honest with yourself, Gojo. Are you really ready to face what happens if she does love you again? Or are you going to make the same mistake and push her away when things get complicated?”

Gojo didn’t answer right away, his mind spinning with everything Shoko had said. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But now, standing here, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he had been hoping for something. Something he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself until now.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said finally, his voice quieter, more serious than before. “I don’t want to hurt her again.”

“Good,” Shoko replied, her voice gentle but firm. “Because if you do, Gojo… this time, it might be too late to fix.”

They said their goodbyes, but Gojo didn’t move from his spot on the deck. The weight of Shoko’s words hung heavy over him, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He wasn’t used to this—feeling unsure, feeling vulnerable. He wasn’t used to caring this much about someone. But when it came to you, everything felt different. Messy. Complicated. And now, standing here in the soft light of the evening, he couldn’t help but wonder: What was this? What was he doing?

And more importantly: What did he want?

Because whether he liked it or not, Shoko was right. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to make the same mistake all over again.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

Gojo stood there, the ocean stretching endlessly before him, but his mind was elsewhere—caught in the tangled mess of emotions and half-formed thoughts that had been brewing since the moment Shoko’s words hit him. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to questioning himself, to feeling so unsure about what he wanted or what to do next. But now, he couldn’t avoid it.

What do you want, Gojo?

That question had been lingering in the back of his mind for days, ever since this whole beach trip started. He had thought, at first, that it was about giving you a break, giving all of you some time away to reset. But if he was being honest with himself—and maybe for the first time, he really was—this trip had never just been about a vacation. It had been an excuse. An excuse to be near you, to figure out what this thing between you two was. He had wanted to get closer, to understand why you still lingered in his mind, even after the surgery had erased the love you once felt for him.

But now, after Shoko’s call, after that blunt, almost painful clarity she had given him, he couldn’t pretend anymore. It wasn’t about curiosity. It wasn’t about guilt or responsibility, either.

He cared about you. Not just as a student, not just because of what had happened. It was something more. Something deeper that he hadn’t realized until now, until the idea of you falling for him again was no longer a distant possibility but something that could happen. Something that he wanted to happen.

Gojo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he watched the waves roll in, his thoughts swirling like the tide. He had never been one to care about these kinds of things. Feelings, relationships, love—it had always seemed messy, complicated, something he wasn’t built for. He was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, someone who lived on the edge of power and responsibility, always just a step removed from everyone else.

But with you… it felt different. He wasn’t standing on the edge anymore, wasn’t watching from afar. He was right in the middle of it, tangled up in something that he couldn’t just ignore or brush off.

Shoko had been right. If you fell in love with him again—and he knew it was possible, even probable—it would be different this time. Because now, it wasn’t just about your feelings. It was about his.

He hadn’t noticed it before. He hadn’t wanted to. But now, with the question staring him in the face, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

Gojo wanted you.

Not in the simple, surface-level way that he sometimes joked about with others. This wasn’t about charm or attraction, or the way he could so easily draw people in with his confidence and smile. This was deeper. He wanted you in his life, in a way that felt grounding, like maybe for the first time, he wasn’t floating above everything but was anchored to something real.

He wanted to be there, for you and with you—not just as your teacher or some distant figure in the background, but as someone who mattered. Someone who could be a part of your life, not just someone you admired from afar.

And if you fell in love with him again?

He wasn’t going to push you away this time. He wasn’t going to let fear or uncertainty stop him from trying. Because now, he understood that he had been waiting for something like this—for someone like you. Someone who made him feel… human, in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Gojo smiled softly to himself, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him. It wasn’t a grand revelation or some huge, life-altering moment. It was quiet. Simple. But it was real.

He wanted you. And for the first time in his life, Gojo wasn’t afraid of what that meant.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. Yuji and Nobara had managed to drag Megumi back to the house, exhausted from the day’s activities, and the house was filled with the usual banter and noise that came from having them around. You had retreated to the kitchen, helping yourself to a glass of water, when you felt his presence behind you.

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice was light, but there was something different in his tone—something more grounded, more focused.

You turned to face him, surprised to find him standing closer than you expected, his usual easy grin absent, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes, usually hidden behind his blindfold, were uncovered, bright and intense as they met yours.

“Hi,” you replied, suddenly feeling nervous, like there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Gojo leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative. “About everything. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the word us, and you swallowed hard, unsure of where this conversation was going. “What about us?”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know things have been complicated,” he began slowly. “And I know I haven’t exactly been great at… dealing with all of this. But I want to be honest with you.”

You stared at him, your pulse quickening. “Honest about what?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he spoke. “About what I want. About what’s been going on in my head since all of this started. And the truth is… I want you around. Not just as one of my students, but… more than that.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Your heart was racing, and you could barely breathe. “More than that?”

Gojo smiled, a small, genuine smile. “Yeah. I’ve realized that… I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want to pretend like none of this matters. It does. You matter. And I want to figure it out—whatever this is, whatever it could be—together.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Gojo—Satoru Gojo—was standing in front of you, telling you that he wanted you, that he wanted to figure out whatever was between you. The fear that had been gnawing at you since the surgery, the uncertainty of what would happen if you let yourself care for him again, all of it seemed to melt away in the face of his quiet sincerity.

For the first time since everything had changed, you felt something new. Something fragile, but real.

Hope.

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “What if I fall for you again?” you asked, your voice trembling but steady.

Gojo stepped closer, his smile widening, his eyes soft but full of that familiar spark. “Then it’s all good.”

And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid of what came next.

A few months had passed since that conversation at the beach house, and everything had settled into something new—something real. The fear, the uncertainty that had once weighed heavily between you and Gojo, had slowly faded, replaced by something more stable, more grounded. Life had moved forward, but now, it did so with a quiet ease that you hadn’t expected.

Your relationship with Gojo had evolved, and though it hadn’t been without its bumps and awkward moments, it had become something solid. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic, like you might have once imagined. There were no grand declarations of love, no sweeping romantic gestures. Instead, it was quiet and slow, built on the foundation of friendship, trust, and mutual understanding.

It felt like you had both found your footing, like you were learning how to be in each other’s lives without the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the weather was warm, the sun shining down as you and Gojo walked through the school grounds. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi were off training somewhere, and the two of you had decided to take advantage of the quiet. Gojo had a bag of snacks slung over his shoulder, and you had your hands tucked into your pockets, enjoying the comfortable silence between you.

“What’s the plan for today, sensei?” you asked, giving him a teasing smile. It had become a running joke between you—calling him "sensei" even though the dynamic between you had changed so much over the past few months.

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy still very much intact. “Oh, you know, the usual. Thought we could go somewhere quiet and you watch me be awesome.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You mean watch you eat snacks and avoid responsibility?”

“Exactly,” Gojo said with a wink, falling into step beside you. “See, you’re catching on.”

The banter between you had always been there, but now it was different. There was a lightness to it that hadn’t existed before. You weren’t constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if Gojo was thinking about the past or the surgery or the complicated feelings that had once consumed both of you. Now, things just… were.

You weren’t in a rush to define the relationship, to label it. The love you had once felt for him had changed—it wasn’t the same overwhelming, suffocating force that had bloomed inside of you like the flowers that had nearly killed you. Instead, it had grown into something healthier, something that didn’t demand all of you but existed alongside you.

And Gojo? He had changed, too. He wasn’t the same distant, untouchable figure he had once been. He still had that easy confidence, that charm that made everyone around him smile, but there was something softer about him now—something more vulnerable. He had let you in, and though it hadn’t been easy for him, he hadn’t pulled away. He hadn’t run.

You found a quiet spot under a tree near the edge of the training grounds, and Gojo flopped down onto the grass, pulling a snack out of his bag with a dramatic flourish. You sat beside him, leaning back against the tree and closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face.

“So,” Gojo said after a while, his tone more serious than usual. “How’s it going? You know… with everything.”

You opened your eyes, glancing over at him. It wasn’t like Gojo to ask questions like that—he wasn’t one for deep conversations unless they happened naturally, but when he did ask, you knew it mattered.

“It’s going,” you replied honestly, offering him a small smile. “Better than I expected.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Better how?”

You sighed, resting your head back against the tree as you thought about your answer. “I’m not afraid anymore. Of being around you. Of falling for you again.” You turned your head to look at him, and his expression softened. “And I think… I already did.”

Gojo didn’t flinch. He didn’t tense up or act surprised. Instead, he smiled, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “I know.”

It wasn’t a grand moment, but it didn’t need to be. You had fallen for him again, slowly, gradually, and this time it felt right. It felt safe. It wasn’t the kind of love that demanded too much or threatened to swallow you whole. It was something that grew between you, steady and unforced.

And Gojo? He was right there with you.

You hadn’t talked much about what your relationship was in specific terms. You didn’t need to. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to figure it out together. There was no rush, no urgency. Just… time. Time to grow, to understand each other, to learn how to love in a way that wasn’t destructive.

Gojo reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he gave you that easy, lopsided grin you had come to know so well. “I’m not going anywhere, you know,” he said softly. “No matter what happens. We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you. “I know.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves overhead and the distant laughter of the others in the background. It was peaceful, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe—like you had found something worth holding onto, not because you needed it to survive, but because it made life better.

And that was enough.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, Gojo shifted beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, we never did figure out what this is,” he said, gesturing between the two of you with a lazy wave of his hand. “Maybe we should give it a name.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Does it need a name?”

He grinned, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the sky. “Nah. I guess not.”

And in that moment, you realized that it didn’t matter what you called it. What mattered was that you were here, together, and that the love between you—whatever form it took—was real.

And that was more than enough.

notes: now everyone says "thank you shoko ieiri"! writing this was so much fun, thank you so much!

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie @r0ckst4rjk @minkyungseokie @tw0fvced @f1sheeee @laviefantasie @f1sheeee @spindyl @itsjustnikkixoxo @springsoltice

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[centaurianthropology]

My thoughts on C3E77

So apparently this one was controversial?

I'm going to say right now, I really loved everyone's decisions. They all fit the characters, but more they fit the players. I know that there are claims that Tal ignored all the warnings, but I actually think Matt may have misjudged the situation going in.

Ashley made it clear on 4SD that she did not want the shard. I think she's not really feeling the Dark Fearne storyline (and that's fair), and Matt seems to have missed that she genuinely didn't want to go down that route. Maybe he thought she was playing coy? Maybe they've been playing together so long he thought he knew a story she'd enjoy and missed her signals that she wasn't into it. I've done that before with some of my long-term players.

However that went down, Tal and she had a conversation after 4SD about what they wanted to do, and it was clear going into the episode that they at least had it planned out who was taking that shard, and it was going to be Ashton from the off. The fact that Matt was not expecting that somewhat surprises me. As Taliesin said: he put a big red backstory-shaped button in front of Ashton, and Ashton is terrified of losing people. If Fearne didn't want the shard, Ashton was going to dive on that grenade head-first. And part of Ashton wanted it. They are told they can't do something, and they will go about proving that old tree and everyone else wrong in the most self-destructive way possible. They are intensely punk in that way.

Matt may have designed the shard for Fearne, but this is not the first time that an item meant for one player ends up with another. Deathwalker's Ward was made for Percy, but through the events in the Sunken Tomb, it ended up with Vax and led to a hell of a story. And now something meant for Fearne goes to Ashton, and I have a feeling we're now in for another hell of a story. Because Ashton is now, essentially, a lava genasi, with three impossible things crammed into their broken body. Will they survive the campaign? I have no idea, but it has become clear that they don't expect to.

And honestly? This may well be what the Hells need, not in terms of power, but in terms of really realizing how self-destructive they all are. Marisha may say that no one loves a martyr, but Laudna was very much ready to play that role earlier this episode. Imogen is very self-destructive. So is Orym. So is FCG. The only two who have shown any degree of self-preservation are Fearne and Chet. The rest are bombs waiting for the most poetic moment to go off.

And today one of them did for a moment. They finally saw the end result that their self-destructive tendencies get them: Ashton blown into a thousand pieces, scattered across the top of the ziggurat. Deanna's ring saved him. Fearne's Aura of Life and FCG's Aura of Vitality saved him. Ashton could only roll and take damage.

Matt may have not designed it this way, but this was absolutely Ashton's 'where do you get your strength from' moment of the campaign, but in a very different way than Grog or Yasha experienced them. Because Ashton might just need this realization slapped into them by all their friends: this was dumb and they would have died because they didn't trust their friends. Because their strength and their salvation truly came from the people that love them.

Ashton has been, up until this point, a bit gung-ho to die for his friends. Honestly, they all are, and it's about time he and all the others learned how to live for their friends.

Anyway, hell of an episode, and a brutal but thrilling last hour. I was grinning right along with Sam. The mad fucker pulled it off by the skin of his teeth and by the grace of two friends dumping every bit of healing they had into him.

[therandompagesblog]

Her Soul for His Soul Chapter 6🌜Seungmin🌛

Trigger Warnings: Murder, Death, Possession, Blood, Injury, Self-harm, Substance abuse, Manipulation

Jeongin has been off since he disappeared. Three days ago he disappeared and left me in the human world searching for my book! He was an impossible demon! Easily distracted and then appear with the most exotic excuses. "Where have you been?! Huh? Where this time? Pretending to soul hunt or knocked up a human?" I asked angrily. My frustration was radiant. "Is it even possible to knock up a human?" He asked like he learned some new lore. "I don't know go and try it!" I stated, walking off into the graveyard. "Maybe I will-" "Do not. Lucifer and the council will have a death day for that. I would not even risk it." I stated. "Where did you go anyway?" "I got summoned by a human. Curious thing she is." Jeongin stated like he came across the most beautiful demon angel there was. "How unexciting. Get your book, take her soul and then donate it to your cousin." I stated. Humans summoning you was never a good idea. They were casualties. Liabilities. They want and want until there's nothing left. They loved the control and I knew that. I lived with a family for generations.       Jeongin on the other hand had never experienced such a thing. He was a curious and naive Grim-demon! He was supposed to hunt souls, collect them and send them to the underworld or feast on them. Some Grim's feast on souls like it was a delicacy. I've never tried it.       Jeongin collected souls from the Sea of Souls. It was a pond in the Grim realm. He fished them out and presented them to the Grim Reaper. The Grim of all Gims. The reaper that sowed.          A fascinating Grim that no one knew much about. Not even Jeongin knew him that well. Still, he presented souls to him.        He never left these realms. He never visited the human world. Now he was curious. He was being far too inquisitive for his own good. I had to stop it, but I needed him.       It was bad enough that Jeongin had grown infatuated with this mere vulnerable being. A being that would damn him.       Jeongin looked up at me with a grin. His big smile and lop-sided horns were things that I had never noticed before or paid attention to. "Your horns are crooked!" I bemused. The young Grim-Demon hissed in anger. "I was born that way." Jeongin hissed. His long tail hit the wall. Catching the painting. "Do you have to pick faults, you sadist!" "Sadism is a monstrous thing for demons. We thrive for it. Unlike you who should have been born a fairy or a little devil." I laughed. "Your fang is broken!" Jeongin tormented. "And your eyes glow yellow not gold!" "Watch your tongue!" I warned. Jeongin let his long forked-tongue flicker out! Bouncing away in the wind. I caught it. Yanking him forward! "Baby Grim-Demon wherefore art though a problem?!" "So poetic," Jeongin grumbled.       I stood up and left The Humans. A favourite pub of mine. It was ironic considering human souls often found their way into here to drink with demons. When they died of course. They loved a pub that was named after them, but it was actually an insult! A Demon in our realm created it for all the souls that he hunted and tormented! It was a fine pub in my realm but in another one, it was filled with damned souls who weren't let into heaven so Lucifer created the underworld with the Grim Reaper.

THE UNDERWORLD WAS REMARKABLE. It was bright blue cloudy skies with electric blue wisps that danced around the sky and in the fields. It was a magical place! It was big enough to house the deceased human population. It was vast and never-ending. The human's spiritual soul was protected here. It was the Grim Reaper's most powerful law. No demons, angels, eld beasts, or ridiculously evil souls were permitted to enter. Only Reapers.      The reason was Reapers were guardians of the dead. They protected them. Any human that died. Reapers would visit them and walk them to the underworld. The human spirit would meet the Guardian Reaper who would explain the basic laws: do not harm, do not steal and do not kill. Once they were free to roam they could do as they pleased.      Some may even become Reapers themselves and go on a course where they were taught how to reap. It was an art.       If a human ever broke a law. The Grim would walk them to the hell realms where the council decides where they go. A demon would take them to that realm.        The thing was, us demons loved new spirits. They reeked of fear and death. Some human spirits never succeed and lived peacefully. Others were hunted in this realm or bullied! Only the very few were respected by demons.        The council member Christopher. His dead name, is Chan. He had a lover who was too kind for hell. He met her in the 1800's. She was a serving girl. Too kind for any mortal.         She hated Hell. She tried to adapt and learn the dead language but she was defeated. In the end, Chan walked her to the Grim Reaper to the underworld realm. Chan had let her go.        This was something everyone in Hell spoke about. It was such a noble thing to do. More noble than what I would have done ever. If I ever and mean ever found a human as he did she would be damned with me in Hell.

HUMANS WERE EXHAUSTING AND TESTED MY PATIENCE! Me and Jeongin went into every damn charity shop looking for my book and nobody knew what I was looking for! They either looked at me with fear or disgust. Jeongin on the other hand attracted the old ladies as being a cute charmer or an attractive being.       Our human versions were slightly different! They were the human norm. Except our faces were similar to our demon version. Our demon selves had added features such as horns, blackened skin, groves and bumps. Some were worse than others. Or better. Like me.       Jeongin was loving the human realm. He liked the acknowledgement and the interest whereas I needed this book. "Will you stop? Acts of flirtation are meek. If you want to fuck, fuck your human that summoned you!?" I glared as I sipped on some bitter coffee thinking about my poor book! "Do you think she would want to?" I looked up at him. Does he really think I would know? I don't even know who she is. "Jeongin-" "Yes. Yes. Your book. We have looked in seventeen charity shops. Why don't we try witchy places?" "What?!" "This town has all sorts going on. There's probably some witch who has stolen it. I Spar.net-ed it. You know the internet?" I looked at him and gave him a nod to continue. "Anyway there are two main bookstores you see Sleepy Hollows and Witchy Worlds! But there are six witch stores in general?" "Alright let's try them," I stated.        We tried Witchy Worlds first as it was the closest one. Straight away they told us someone tried to donate it but they refused to take it because it was demonic so they told the person to send it to Sleepy Hollows.       So now we were at Sleepy Hollows. A small bookshop on the outskirts of Mystshell. For the first time, I could smell my book but it was faint. "Sorry, we're closed?" The voice of a man stated. "A book was delivered here. Where is it?" I hummed out. Using my gift, I dragged the person towards me. They gasped. "The book. Uh. Uh. It belongs to you?!" I crossed my arms and allowed my tenor to squeeze his throat. "Someone stole it. It was gone the next day?!" "Cameras?" Jeongin asked. He clearly did his homework on humans. "They haven't been working for weeks." My tenor threw the young man into the wall. I hissed in frustration and stormed out of the shop.       I was beyond angry. That book wasn't only the key to summoning me. It was the book of my ancestry. It was my book. Who I was. My victories. My failurew. It was the key to me. And if some human stumbled across it, let alone another demon who could read it. I was inevitably fucked. "I'm sorry hyung. I will create a plan." Jeongin promised but he couldn't. Some fucker was out there and I wanted to hunt them. "Apparently it was gone last week. So let's hope a human dumps it because they can't read it." Jeongin whispered. The last bit was more said to himself than me.       I growled and hissed at the wall. Placing my hands on either side of my head against the wall angrily. I didn't know what to do. "Hyung! Where are you going?" Jeongin asked. "Nowhere... Fuck sake." I grumbled.

"AHHHHHHH!" A PIERCING SCREAM HIT MY EARS! I winced at the high-pitched voice. This place stinks of entities. Pwah it's bad in here. "Bloody hell!?" The human gasped. "There's no blood in hell. That's offensive." I said. Shrugging my arms. The small human looked up at me. She looked petrified. Human you summoned me. "Who are you? What do you want?" She asked "You summoned me! What do you want?" I asked irritatedly. I looked over and saw my book. My book.       The human was quick to grab and throw it towards her friend who looked as though she had been attacked by an entity. I smirked when my book burned her, yet I was confused as to why my book didn't burn the human screeching in front of me.  I winced when the human chucked my book. It was like watching my pet being harmed. Except I didn't have a pet. "What are you? What is your name?" She whispered.        Before I could respond the human hurled all over a poor motorcycle. This human's sick smelled of liquor and spirit. Great I was a drunken summon. Fantastic. I might as well kill her accidentally and hand her to the Grim Reaper. "Which name? My given name or my dead name?" I asked impatiently. "Your real name?" She asked as she wiped her mouth. "My dead name is Seungmin. What is yours human?" I asked. "Y/N. My name is Y/N," Y/N confirmed. Slowly she walked towards me. Curiously.        I looked at her. Her Halloween makeup was smudged and she appeared to be a devil. A fucking devil. That was insulting considering demons and devils were similar. Devils were smaller tinier creatures. "I summoned you because I need protection. I need your protection from these things that keep haunting me!" She said surely. "Uh, huh!" "Let me explain. Me and my friends played the Ouija board and summoned a spirit! Winter and Lisa pulled away without saying goodbye now the spirits want me." I stared at her like a demon child who got caught thieving a soul. I wanted to pat her head and tell her how naughty she was. "Since then things keep happening to me. Today one attacked me. I need it to stop. Without you, I can't do it. I don't even know how to." "Your first mistake was playing with an Ouija board. Your second mistake was not saying goodbye, but goodbye doesn't always work." I told her.       How stupid was a human to mess with entities? Ouija boards were like books for every Lucifer damned entity. Humans never learned. They do it every time. I could let an entity consume her and kill her but then she would become one. Since she asked for my help and she has my book I might as well see what she has to offer since she was bargaining.        I could see by the look of her face and her friend's face how bad it was. The entity was coming into their world. It had imprinted itself on one of them. Probably both of them. "Alright I will help and get rid of them, but I want something in return!" I smirked. "Anything. I need you, you need me!" She blurted out nervously. She was calculating everything. She wasn't sure who I was yet. "Yes. If I help you. You must do everything I say. Cooperation is key. In return, I want your soul." I simply said. "What happens if I give you my soul?" She asked. "For full disclaimers, your soul is mine until the day you die then I'll let you go. I protect what's mine until you pass." I answered. "How do I give you my soul?" She asked quickly as if her life depended on it!       I opened my arm and summoned my knife. Handing it to her. She took it but gave me a look. "Say the summoning words, but before the last bit. Say you give your soul to me and then carve my name in your arm. You have to do it" I told her.        I watched her speak the words. Her words sent shivers up my tail that were yet to be shown to her. I watched her carve my name on her arm. Every letter bound us together. Ever so slowly. She was being slow and careful because of the pain! Once it was done I felt our connection. From today onwards I would know where she was no matter what. I would look after her because I was good to my pets and she would slowly learn that.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @linocz @hyunmikim @eastjonowhere @skzdreamer13 @mavischerry @kiaralynn3838 @jellyleggz @mihoonz @hanniesbubuwife

[dailydemonspotlight]

Hel - Day 140

Race: Reaper Arcana: Death Alignment: Dark-Neutral December 6th, 2024

Death is an inescapable part of life, for rather obvious reasons. We all die some day, and, like most natural phenomena, the people of ancient times tried to come up with a reason as to why we did- without the knowledge of how our bodies work, folkloric explanations rose for death and its relevance. Even now, people aren't sure what happens after, and for obvious reasons, too- one can't just ask a dead person what happened. This, naturally, leads to a lot of different beings related to death, beings that bring it and/or guide the dead to the afterlife, if there even is one in said culture.

On that topic, Nordic culture had a very unique take on death, and how it worked- similarly to Christianity, there were several major afterlives one could go to. However, in contrast to the pure Heaven and the pain-ridden Hell, the two afterlives in Norse myth related to how one died- one, Valhalla, was for the warriors who died in battle, and the other, Hel, was where those who died elsewhere went to rest. Hel was so named, finally, for today's Demon of the Day- the eponymous Hel, a jötunn with quite a lot of mystery surrounding her. A daughter of Loki, and a being with much importance, this long introduction finally gives way to Hel herself.

When it comes to Hel, there are two things named as such- the jötunn Hel, who isn't as much a goddess of death as she was the queen of the other thing named Hel, an afterlife also called Helheim or Niflheim in many secondary sources (which I'll also be calling Helheim going forward to make it less confusing). Helheim was the realm that those who died outside of battle went to upon their death, as Viking culture highly valued battle and the honor it brought. The realm was the home for those who died from age, illness, or were too weak or cowardly to fight, among other possible ways to pass. The realm itself was impossibly cold, though the presence of Níðhöggr, the serpent who chewed upon the roots of Yggdrasil, made sure that those passing into the realm became just as cold as the realm itself.

Níðhöggr would head to any new arrivals into Helheim , signaled by the howling of a dog sometimes believed to be Fenrir (which is another insanely complicated topic to get into) and would suck their blood out until they became completely pale, allowing them to be assimilated into Hel's army easier. Helheim itself was actually a rather hard nut to crack, as much of Norse mythology has been corrupted by the only primary source we HAVE for it, thanks Snorri, and it was incredibly likely that most depictions of Helheim were influenced by depictions of Hell in Christian faith rather than an accurate retelling. As always, Snorri has screwed us again. Wish I could get an accurate retelling for the price of sending an email...

Hel herself is an incredibly interesting figure, though she's mostly mentioned in passing throughout the Poetic Edda. As one of the children of Loki, and one he bared with a jötunn, she isn't a goddess- instead, as a jötunn herself, she's tasked with watching over Helheim. She's also the sister of both the world's worst good boy Fenrir and the giant snake Jormungand, though ironically she's probably the nicest of the three- she's not shown as actively malicious, simply cold and indifferent. The only main myth she stars in is the Death of Baldur, though it's also just... too long of a tale to get into right now, but she ends up messing with the Æsir and trapping Baldur in Helheim through the help of Loki. Still, as she's barely mentioned in the Edda, there's not much to go off of with her- she's cold, callous, and indifferent, but that's about all we know. Overall, though, she's an incredibly interesting figure- she represents the grave in a way that Valhalla cannot, and she ultimately likely may have played an important role in Norse civilization, though we can't be sure of either. (snorri when i catch you snorri)

Her design in SMT plays into the cold embrace of death and its aspects in how Helheim is presented, though, again, it's nigh-impossible to actually tell if the way she's presented is accurate to the original mythos. The cold encompassing her legs is a really nice touch, though, and it also plays into the fact that she is a jötunn, being literally a frost giant. I wish we had more to go off of with her, but this DDS is dragging on a bit and the lack of anything concrete that may have not been Snorrified makes this a rather frustrating entry to research.

[al-mayriti]

my mum showed us this book they made showing some of my grandpa's work as a photographer for spanish singers and I wanted to share with you some of them <3 below I'll add a little description of the artist in case you don't know who they are

in order of appearance, they are:

massiel: she was the first spanish winner in eurovision in 1968 with 'la la la'. later in life she denounced the usage of the francoist regime of eurovision as a propaganda machine, and has remained vinculated to eurovision.

marisol: she was a child actress who suffered great abuse (as is usually the case) during her childhood and teenage years, working both as an actress and as a singer (she mostly starred - especially as a kid - in musical movies). she was also a member of the spanish communist party and has marxist ideas <3.

ana belén: she is one of the most iconic singers from the transition period (1975-1978) alongside her husband, víctor manuel (he was also photographied by my grandpa but i couldn't find a way his picture could fit). her songs have a strong social and political content, and she has also taken part in movies both as an actress and as a director. one of her most iconic songs is 'el hombre del piano', a spanish version of billy joel's piano man.

julio iglesias: he is perhaps one of the most successful spanish-speaking singers ever, having sold more than 150 million records. he is also part of the latin songwriters hall of fame. in 1983 he was celebrated for being the artist with songs in the most languages in the world, and in 2013 for being the best-selling male latin artist of all-time. oh and he has had a star in hollywood walk of fame since 1985, as well as having various grammys, latin grammys, billboard music awards, american music awards, etc. so yeah. he's a big deal (he's also the father of enrique iglesias who you might have already know). he represented spain in eurovision in 1970, with 'gwendolyne', which was his breakout hit.

nino bravo: he was one of the biggest spanish singers in the first half of the 70s, with massive hits and an incredible rise to fame that was tragically short, as he died in a car crash in 1973, when he was 28 (he only had 3 years of fame). my grandpa was a close friend of his, he even went to his wedding and appears in his memories. anyways, despite his short-lived fame, many of his songs are iconic and classics, possibly its best and most popular one is 'un beso y una flor', a karaoke classic.

joan manuel serrat: he is the singlemost imporant catalan singer-songwriter in history, with songs both in his native tongue and spanish (he's also my mother's favourite singer <3). he has a very poetic lyrical style, being influenced by poets like lorca, neruda, benedetti, machado, or alberti, and he even has some albums singing poetry of different spanish poets (the miguel hernández one is insane). he was also the pioneer of the nova cançó catalan movement, and he has been galardonated with highest honors in spain, as well as receiving the honorary latin grammy in 2014. his song 'mediterráneo' is for many - including myself - quite possibly the best spanish song ever (at least lyrically).

joaquín sabina: he is like a friend to me. my parents love him so they would always play his songs in long car rides and now i also love him his songs are incredible. he's actually a good friend of serrat and have toured together, their styles are similar only sabina isn't catalan (he's andalusian but lives in madrid) and his songs are more like stories than poems, he is inspired in baroque literature more than 20th century poets like serrat. just like serrat, he also has honorary awards by the ondas awards, the latin grammys, and various cities and regions in spain. it is literally impossible to choose only one of his songs to showcase here, but i'm afraid i have to go with 'y nos dieron las diez', one of his most popular songs, a karaoke classic, and the song we scream the loudest on the car with my family.

alejandro sanz: he is the most recent of all these singers, and currently the most famous spanish male singer i would say, only second to rosalía. he has won 22 latin grammys and 4 grammys, and he's collabed with artists such as alicia keys, shakira, or marc anthony. he's huge is what i'm trying to say lol. his breakout hit was 'corazón partío', in 1997, that still remains one of his most popular songs.

lola flores: she is everything to me istg. anyways. lola flores was a flamenco singer, dancer, and actress, that remains as one of the best folclóricas in history. just so you know, folclóricas were basically flamenco divas, think of them like that. she was iconic as fuck, antifa, feminist, and funny as hell. she is, as the english wikipedia says, 'a spanish pop culture icon'. you might also know her grand-daughter, actress alba flores. her most well-known song is probably 'ay pena, penita, pena'.

rocío jurado: just like lola flores, she is one of the most iconic and best folclóricas in history. just as her, she was both a singer and an actress, and she is remembered for having one of the best voices ever; in fact, in the year 2000 she won the new york times' prize 'the voice of the millenium' for best female voice of the 20th century. she is also iconic and regarded almost like a minor goddess in flamenco circles (just like lola flores). her most well known song is the iconic 'como una ola'.

[mytalemyworld]

Who shot him could be solved in many ways…here are my thoughts.

I think the spoilers said it was Neslihan who would shoot Serhan which was the most plausible option for me. Because the woman has had enough. How many times did her children suffer at the hands of Serhan? Plus she clearly stated in the beginning of the episode that he would never hurt her children again. She was aggressive, arguing with everybody, didn't seem to show her usual logical side. So I would definitely expect that from her.

However after the show had been renewed, the finale script changed, some parts were cut and we saw Neslihan unconscious. (Well, she still can regain her consciousness though, it's not impossible you know)

The other possibilities:

Why can it be him?

What wouldn't a desperate father do for his son? He doesn't hesitate to kill for his family and doesn't need to carry a gun. He can find one from the sleeping bodyguards. I think they're loaded and Serhan didn't take their guns.

Why can't it be him?

1.) The way Yaman said "what did you do?"

Children don't use formal language when they talk to their parents in Turkish culture however they usually add "dad/mom" at the end of their sentence. It was like Yaman was talking to someone around his age or someone who is close but not his parents.

2.) We didn't hear any car approaching. If the front door is open, the car must enter first. Why did he stop outside? If the front door is closed how can he sneak in without making a sound?

Why can it be him?

Serhan: Don't scream. Only Alaz is left however he is not at home.

1.) This is a bad sign like pointing out an obvious option. Only he can help but he is not there. Well, he might be on the way, evil dad.

2.) Why can't it be Güven? - reason 1.

3.) His motives? He has had enough too. He lost a sister, the love of his life, a child which he doesn't want but still can make him unstable more than he already is. He says he doesn't have any reason to move on. And if he sees his "dear" dad once again is trying to kill his other sibling, well don't expect him to act rationally. He might use the gun that belongs to the bodyguards.

Some poetical karmatic reasons: So, a long time ago in a galaxy far away... there was a scene in one of the best Yabani episodes. (I am sorry for being dramatic, but sometimes it felt like it happened in another universe) Alaz chose Asi over Yaman and almost killed him. So in a way Asi was the reason Yaman almost died. And Alaz was the tool.

In the season finale, Asi assured and promised Neslihan that she would bring Alaz back and nothing would happen to him or he wouldn't do anything bad because she would be with him. But we knew everything went wrong. He didn't stay with her and she shut the door in his face.

So if it really turned out to be him, Asi would be the reason Yaman survived and Alaz, again, would be the tool. A vicious cycle would come to an end.

Little Yaman Ali saved little child Asi, grown up Asi saved Alaz in some ways and Alaz would save Yaman. Every debt would be settled for good.

Hmm, also if the little Leia was still alive, we might see Obi-Yaman-Ali-Wan hiding her from her dad....yeah, a time jump, a darker Yabani...anything can happen.

Why can't it be him?

Because it will ruin him. Because he will be completely lost. Because he will never forgive himself. Because probably this will also affect his bond with his unborn child that exists for now. Because I will call you ruthless if you do so, dear writers.

Sigh, okay, I will be serious.

1-) Why can't it be Güven? - second reason applies him too. If the door is closed he must come from a different way but honestly, this must be shown in a very detailed way, I don't know, except maybe he is already inside which brings to my mind the other options.

Osman or Elif.

I know Osman is asleep but he might have woken up because of the voices. And Serhan was shot from a place where he was sleeping.

Elif would make sense too. But this is the weakest possibility because she is always so useless and whoever shot Serhan seems to be inexperienced. He's shot twice and a police would be more coolheaded I think.

Anyway...Whatever suits the plot and story, they will choose that option. They never try too hard to make it sense however there's a %1 probability that they will think about this a little more than their usual plot lines.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

The One (3)

For the Phic Phight prompts: Soulmate Au where after your soulmate  dies, you can only see in black  and white. As in you see normal colors  until they die and then only in  black and white for the rest of your  life, so you only ever know if you  had a soulmate once it's too late.  Except Character A's (up to you who  you want it to be) soulmate is  Danny. While Danny is in Phantom form,  character A's vision is in black  and white, but returns to normal color  when Danny is Fenton. Character  A is going crazy trying to find their  soulmate who keeps dying and  getting resurrected. (from @ghostboidanny) and Wes is the first one to find out Danny's secret. No One Knows AU. (from @murphy-kitt)

Chapter 3: With New Full Color Pages

First | Previous | Next

AO3 Link

[Warnings for death mentions and light stalking (because it’s Wes)]

Wes spent the next few weeks looking up newspapers from all over the Midwest, trying to find any articles about accidents or incidents the day he stopped seeing color for the first time. He scoured hundreds of newspapers, maybe even thousands, to no avail. During that period his color vision disappeared and returned almost every day, sometimes more than once.

Though he'd been relieved the first time the colors returned, after the fifth time all he felt was dread for the next time they faded. Whoever his soulmate was, they were obviously not doing so great. They could die for good any day now, and he still hadn't found them!

While his focus was elsewhere, something incredible was happening right in his home town. Ghosts were invading Amity Park.

A lot of people still didn't believe it, Kyle especially didn't believe it, but after a spectral lunch lady nearly destroyed the entire school with meat creatures just because that one goth girl lobbied for a vegan day, Wes was inclined to believe. Luckily not all the ghosts were bad. There was at least one ghost keeping the others in line.

He never stuck around long, so no one had ever gotten his name, but whoever he was, he seemed to be protecting the humans, so a lot of Casper High students had taken a liking to him right away. Wes probably would have too, but every time he showed up, Wes' vision went grayscale and he was too worried about his soulmate to think too much about the ghost boy.

It wasn't until after the papers had dubbed the ghost Inviso-Bill that Wes even learned what he really looked like. Paulina, the cheerleader, was waxing poetic about his gorgeous green eyes in history class, and Wes stopped cold. He leaned over his desk to talk to her.

"He has green eyes?" he asked her. She turned in her seat to look at him with disdain. He'd never understand why she did that. After all, he was a jock too; he was a starter on the Basketball team this year.

"Uh, yeah," she said obviously. "They're so gorgeous and they glow like stars. Have you never seen him?" She rolled her eyes and turned back around, clearly not looking for an answer.

"Not in color," he mumbled to himself, leaning back in his seat thoughtfully.

Wes' family had always called him 'creative' to his face, and 'crazy' behind his back, because he had a tendency to come up with wild theories about the way the world worked. One of those wild theories was starting to form in his brain just then. Even he knew that it was insane, that it was impossible. Unless.... well, unless it wasn't.

The first thing Wes had to do to test his theory was compare all the times his vision had gone black and white to all the times Inviso-Bill had been spotted. He'd kept a log in his notebook since the third time it happened, writing down when the colors faded and when they returned, to compare with newspapers. That was turning out to be pretty useful now. Next, he talked to some people at school, where Inviso-Bill was seen most often, to get approximate times of when he was spotted.

Sure enough, every time Inviso-Bill was spotted aligned with a window where Wes' soulmate had been briefly dead. There were some periods where Wes couldn't see color but Inviso-Bill hadn't been seen, but that didn't necessarily mean he hadn't been around. They guy could turn invisible, after all.

Once he'd verified that, Wes dusted off his old camera and started carrying it with him. He needed to get some clear shots of Inviso-Bill if he was going to figure out who he was when he was alive. Sure enough, the next time Wes stopped seeing color, moments later, the ghost was spotted.

While most people were running away, Wes sprinted toward the raging battle. It was not easy to get clear shots of the ghost while he was fighting what appeared to be a massive dragon—which was intensely cool, by the way—but Wes managed to get at least one decent shot of Inviso-Bill standing up after being thrown into the bleachers. The colors returned while Wes was looking at the shots he'd gotten, and he looked up to see the ghost boy and the dragon both gone.

When he got home, Wes hung up his old cork board. The best thing about no longer sharing a room was that Kyle wasn't around to make fun of him for having a conspiracy board. He pulled his tin of thumbtacks out of his desk drawer while his photos printed. Inviso-Bill, as it turned out, didn't look all that much different in color. Except for the fact that, just like Paulina had said, he had glowing green eyes.

"Who are you?" Wes asked as he pinned the clearest photo onto the center of the cork-board. He huffed out a breath. "I guess it's up to me to find out."

He started by combing through the most recent Casper High yearbook. Luckily, Wes had the benefit of knowing exactly when Inviso-Bill first died—providing his theory was correct, so there was no need to look through older yearbooks. Him being a Casper High student was more of a hunch. The ghost boy seemed to spend a disproportionate amount of time saving the high school, although, that could've been because ghosts happened to attack there more often for some reason.

Wes circled some people in the yearbook that look like they could be Inviso-Bill, but none of them were quite a match. It was also hard to get an idea of their heights based on a head and shoulders yearbook photo. Matthew Davidson, for example. His yearbook photo looked very similar to Inviso-Bill, but Wes knew him, and knew that he was a good foot taller than the ghost, which—unless he died from being vertically compressed—took him off the list of suspects.

The only problem with identifying suspects from the previous year's yearbook was that none of the current freshman were in it. Inviso-Bill was kind of short and scrawny, so Wes theorized that, if he was a Casper High student at all, he was probably a freshman, or maybe a sophomore. So he had to talk Kyle into getting the school records for him so he could compare them with local middle school yearbooks.

"I want you to write my English essay on Animal Farm for Mr. Lancer's class," Kyle said when Wes asked what he'd need in exchange for hacking the school.

"No."

"Come on, please?" His brother pouted imploringly. "You're way better at writing essays than I am!"

"Yeah, I know," Wes crossed his arms, "and Mr. Lancer knows too, and he will one-hundred percent notice if I write your essay for you. I'm not gonna get detention for this."

"Then I won't hack the school records for you."

"Oh, come on!" Wes groaned and threw his hands up in frustration. "Fine, how about this. I won't write your essay for you, but I'll proof-read all your English homework for the month. You still have to do it yourself, but it'll at least bring your grade up, and I know English is your worst subject."

Kyle thought about it for a long moment, tapping his bottom lip with his index finger. "For the semester," he countered.

"Only if you also help me study for my math finals."

"Deal."

"Then deal."

Wes had the school records by the end of the day. Getting his hands on middle school yearbooks was a pain in the ass, but he managed. Eventually, he narrowed it down to the three most likely suspects, based on appearance. Martin Pierce, Liam Greene, and Daniel Fenton.

Upon investigation, he discovered that, despite being in the Casper High records, Liam Greene had actually moved away before the school year had even started. Probably something unexpected, like family member in another state getting sick, or his parents getting a big job opportunity in another city. In any case, he didn't live in Amity Park anymore, so he was off the list.

And then there were two.

"Hey," Wes stopped a guy in the hallway. He didn't know the freshman's name, but he'd seen the kid hanging around Daniel Fenton, and he was pretty sure they were close. "You're Fenton's friend, right? What's your name?"

"Tucker," the boy said. "Who's asking?"

"Name's Wes," he introduced. "What can you tell me about Fenton?"

"Why?" Tucker narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Time to spin the wheel of excuses.

"I heard he was a good student," Wes said. His middle school yearbook had shown the kid grinning widely in front of his first place science fair project, so he felt like it was a safe assumption. "I'm looking to recruit people for the school newspaper club. You earn extra credit if you join."

Tucker snorted. "He used to be. Every since he started high school, Danny's grades have sunk big time. You must be thinking of his sister. Jazz is the brainiac."

Of course, his grades could've dropped for any number of reasons, but Wes imagined dying and then fighting seemingly endless ghosts didn't leave a whole lot of time for homework. It wasn't any more of a stretch than thinking the kid was a ghost in the first place.

"Well, what can you tell me about her then?" he asked. The two of them were siblings, so it would make for a decent start. "Home life, interests, stuff like that?"

"Well... their parents think they're ghost scientists, but they're not what I would call good at it," Tucker answered consideringly. "I'm pretty sure Jazz is into, like, psychology and stuff. I don't think she'd be interested in the school newspaper."

"Ah, well, it was worth a shot," Wes said with a shrug. "I don't suppose you'd be interested?"

"Not on your life," came the derisive response, and then Tucker was walking away down the hall.

His parents were ghost scientists. That was promising. Who knew what kind of crazy lab experiment of theirs Danny might've stumbled into? The ghost boy did wear some kind of jumpsuit, it could totally have been a protective suit of some kind. Maybe a lab accident could explain how he could be both dead and alive.

Danny became all the more promising when Martin Pierce turned out to be a complete bust. Pierce, had shaved his head since graduating middle school, and Inviso-Bill didn't have a buzz cut. According to his friends, Martin had started shaving his head over the summer, which meant there was no possibility that he'd had a different haircut on the day Wes had first seen in black and white.

That left Danny Fenton.

From that day onward, Wes kept a very close eye on Fenton, as close as he could, anyway. He'd see the boy run into the bathroom and never come out again. He'd see the boy flinch violently when he got a static shock from a metal doorknob. Once, he'd seen his eyes flash bright green when he was angry, for the briefest of moments. Then, finally, he saw it.

Danny must've thought no one was watching. He looked around, and Wes ducked out of sight. When he looked again, rings of light had appeared around Danny's middle and traveled up and down his body. When the light faded, Wes' color vision faded with it, and Inviso-Bill was standing right where Danny had been.

Wes' eyes widened and he leaned against the wall he was hiding behind as the ghost boy took off to fight the Box Ghost for the fourth time that week.

"Holy shit," he breathed out. "I can't believe I actually found my soulmate... and he's half dead."

[wulfrann]

10 Fandom, 10 Characters, 10 People

Thanks @moondal514 for the tag!

Rules: name 10 of your favourite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people to do the same

This is an impossible task so I'm filling this up with how I'm feeling right now, impulsively, without thinking about it too hard. Ask me tomorrow it would be different. Also the order is arbitrary and means nothing.

1) Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist

THEE original gender envy. The boy. I thought I wanted to be with him when really I wanted to be him. and kiss Winry. Manga of all time. What else is there to say.

2) Ellana from the Ewilan & Marchombres Series by Pierre Bottero

She's the best Marchombre that ever was. She writes poetry. She's hot. She has claws. She is my childhood hero and role model. She is the best Bottero character ever. I am in love with her.

3) The Biologist from The Southern Reach by Jeff VanderMeer

I don't know her name and I don't care. If the first tome wasn't from her perspective I probably wouldn't have been so invested. I would never want to fix her because whatever's wrong with her is way more interesting. I wanna go look at tide pools with her even though she'd hate that because she'd much rather be alone.

4) Joy Wang from Everything Everywhere All At Once

Honestly choosing just one character from this movie is impossible, but Joy telling her mother that she's just tired is Top 10 moments of cinema that made me burst into tears. Also: she's gay. Also: she's depressed. Also: what a fucking icon. Also: her costumes.

5) Dean Winchester from Supernatural

Choosing between him and Castiel is fucking impossible but I had to follow my heart of hearts and if I had to choose I knew I had to make this choice. It is very cringe of me to shun THEE gay angel like this and I am very ashamed of myself but he would agree with me, so. I had to. Dean is simply too deeply unwell in such specific ways that I cannot resist the brain worms. Although, without destiel? He would be nothing to me.

6) Captain K.P. Hobb from Dimension 20: A Court of Fey and Flowers

Tragic furry goblin man. His pathetic devotion to a court and its values in spite of their being drastically at odds with his honorable and rigid nature has bewitched me.

7) Fi Carmichael from Planetes by Makoto Yukimura

Everytime I re-read the arc that's centered on her and her family I sob like a little kid. Also she almost died to prevent a terrorist attack just because she wanted to smoke a cigarette.

8) Cliopher Mdang from the Lays of the Hearth-Fire by Victoria Goddard

Kip my best friend Kip. He invited the Sun on Earth, God-emperor of the world, to take a vacation, and it changed the fucking world. Number one most epic secretary ever. He has 50-something cousins. I want to be invited to one meal with him so bad, I just wanna talk to him like for 5 minutes, I know he's the busiest man in the Empire and also he's not real but like. Pretty please.

9) Sam Gamgee from the Lord of the Rings

THEE holder of hope for the whole trilogy. He's in gay love with Frodo and he can't carry the ring but he can carry him. I wish to kiss his forehead.

10) Andrew Minyard from All for the Game by Nora Sakavic

It's really hard to pick one character from this insane series but I mean. I had to.

Tagging: @aoquesth @lackluster-violet @poetic-ivy @planavarium @polzkadotz @newbornmoon @svnroom @cupcakedyke @herobrineawakening @makebelieveanything

[antiphotogenicfilmographer]

After having completed some amateur-at-best short film documentaries this semester, I decided to switch it all up and make an audio doc for this last project. The product I ended up with was “thanks for the memories,” which is an auditory ode to my grandparents.

This was an attempt at a new twist on my non-fiction film, made for my film major application. I thought a lot more about my intent in making the film and how different modes of documentary can best convey the emotions I want to explore. When you lose someone close to you, their voice is most likely the first part of them that you will forget. In “thanks for the memories,” I wanted to restore the voice of my grandparents to my life and remembrance. I collected almost every piece of video and audio I have of them and their voices and strung them together like a series of lucid memories.

I wanted the poetic mode to influence my work on this project, in an effort to provoke thought and reflection, and while every piece of audio says something literally, none of what is said is of any importance or note. Each clip is a very simple, everyday exchange, which was caught on home video. Besides the book ending clips of audio, documenting the degradation of my grandma’s memory a mere month before she died, the sequencing of the audio does not result in any sort of narrative being told. I wanted the listener to get the impression that they are clicking on random clips of audio they find on their phone, searching for any piece of remembrance, of comfort in their grief. I also edited it in a way that mirrors the human mind and our tendency to blur different memories into one memory. In order to convey that, I placed audio that had similar wording next to each other, so that it would be hard to distinguish between the two, not knowing when one clip changes into another. I took inspiration from both Rain and Berlin: Symphony of a Great City for this project, as I took very specific bits and pieces of life and synthesized them together to create a greater mood and experience.

The participatory mode was built into the very soil of this project. The subjects are my grandparents and thus, I could not remove any part of myself from the project without also removing them. Actually, my decision to make an audio documentary instead of a visual one was inspired by the film Nobody’s Business. The scenes where the filmmaker interviews his father, with absolutely no imagery backing the audio, just pure black background, struck me the most and felt like the most personal and intimate in the whole film. Such a decision makes the interaction between the filmmaker and their relative seem so much more real and reflective, as if the filmmaker themselves are making an effort to remember something the other said, closed eyes, hearing only voices and phrases from the loved one. The filmmaker’s relationship with the subject of their film is essential to performative documentaries and the authenticity of the project. My grandparents were no celebrities and making a documentary as if they were, would be impossible for me and insulting to them. We were so close, and I needed to portray that closeness in the project, or else it wouldn’t be any sort of reality. At the very least, I could convey my reality. Luckily, I had access to small interviews I did with my grandma a couple times throughout my time with her, which let me get closer to her when she was alive and feel closer to her now that she is dead.

Another mode I wished to utilize is the observational mode. Although I could never accomplish “cinema verité” with only audio, I tried my best to let the reality of each interaction in the clips I used shine through. I did so by making the decision to use no voice over. I used only archival audio, without prefacing the occurrences in the clips and my reasoning for using them. In fact, the audio I used was never intended to prove any sort of point but be a pure observation of audio and auditory memory. The whole documentary is more important than individual clips, just as the whole person being remembered is more important than the little, insignificant recollection of conversations we have had with them. One reason I wanted to use observational filmmaking is to create a feeling as though one is listening to an exhibit at the zoo or an art museum, crafting a sort of depersonalized, distant listening experience. Such an experience establishes a paradox when this piece of media is consumed. The audience must listen to something so personal and private, with no broader context, and feel the misery of missing out on something they were never a part of, while for me, I must experience the piece, having been a part of it, knowing that I can never have that again. My grandparents are dead, living on only through the records I have of them. This audio is a part of that life, but a painful reminder that this is all there is. It is like listening to ghosts.

It is found media. When I began this project, I remembered the section of our books that talked about home videos used to incriminate the Nazis in Germany, and though I am not incriminating my grandparents of anything, I too was working off of home video footage. It made me feel like I was uncovering something new, when placing each clip together. That is why this project has been so interesting to me. I only used pre-existing pieces of audio, which I happened to be a part of already, and edited them as if I wasn’t a part of them. That is how I managed to use both observational and performative modes of documentary, and in my opinion, that irony and juxtaposition is in of itself poetic.

Sound is such a gift, but in the visual world we live in, it gets drowned out. Photos and portraits of family members have existed for centuries, and while we now have video with audio, physical copies of familial audio are still hard to create and preserve. The clouds will only hold so much memory until our own memories are wiped out. We must prize the audio we have while we have it, because audio is the first thing we will lose and the first thing we will forget.

[sillyromances]

"I don't wonder about that at all. It's not random folk, it's family, and you wouldn't get so worked up if you didn't worry. I've always thought it must be part of what makes you so able to fight so hard for all of us." Mary Beth felt it, too, that feeling of being like family. Sure, it probably wasn't as strong for her as it was for Arthur, what with how long he'd been part of the gang - old guard, they called him -, but Mary Beth wasn't immune. When Mary Beth first followed them back to camp years ago, she'd thought she was moving from one dangerous situation to the other and was ready to run in the middle of the night, except what she walked into wasn't what she expected at all. Instead of it being some trick, she'd found herself people that cared, and that was more than Mary Beth could say about… well, anyone since her mama died.

Once, when Karen was railing on Miss Grimshaw for being a miserable old hag, Mary Beth had claimed it came from caring about them and Karen had thrown back that she only thought that because of her mama. That hadn't seemed fair at the time, but maybe this was something like that, Mary Beth reading into that roughness in a way that most people wouldn't.

What did it say about her, that a woman could slap her and make her cry, and Mary Beth would claim it came from a place of care, but a man could tell her something that delighted her, and she had to check that he wasn't fooling her?

"Maybe one day. I'd be willing to go back into the mountains for that. Who knows, maybe there are all kinds of impossible seeming discoveries in the mountains because it's too cold for anyone to want to be up there willingly." She knew that some people didn't care for the heat of Lemoyne, but Mary Beth enjoyed it even if it did come with bugs, the heat almost like being held and the view of the water was calming when nothing else was. She didn't know how long they'd stay in Lemoyne or where they'd move next whenever they inevitably did, but she hoped it wouldn't be anywhere too cold. Even if it was, she doubted they'd backtrack close enough for Arthur to get away with showing her the remains of a giant and part of Mary Beth wanted to suggest that Arthur sketch it for her, but she didn't for multiple reasons.

Firstly, while she didn't doubt his skills would be wonderful, it wouldn't really help her envision the true size. Secondly, as much as she liked to imagine how poetic and revealing the contents of Arthur Morgan's journal happened to be and would like to get her hands on it to read it, willing even to swap her own for the chance, asking him to draw her something seemed like a sneaky way of trying to get her hands on his journal. And third of all… well, it just felt selfish. After all, Arthur had to go off soon to provide for the entire gang, he didn't have time to be doing silly things like drawing a sketch for her.

When the law showed up after the train robbery Mary Beth gave Arthur the tip off on, she'd felt badly about it, almost responsible for bringing attention in their direction even though she hadn't known the law would show up. The law was always a risk and no one would fault her, she knew it, but while it had felt like such a big thing in the moment, it felt so small with Arthur laying everything out.

Expression going soft in the face of Arthur's worry, Mary Beth reached out to place a light hand on his arm. "There's nothing wrong with being able to have your own thoughts, Arthur. Looking out for us ain't a betrayal, you're just watching for what he might have missed and you can't do that by always thinking exactly like Dutch." Dropping her hand, Mary Beth wondered just when having any kind of thought of your own ended up being a betrayal, when Dutch started expecting mindless, thoughtless loyalty, but she didn't ask. "Maybe Dutch… just feels like he needs a win to prove himself after everything that's happened. Maybe he's trying so hard that he can't see the dust we're kicking up."

Which didn't make anything less worrisome, not with all the people out there who didn't like them. "Can I ask... what you want for the future, Arthur? I think we all know what Dutch says, but what do you see when you think about it?"

"It's just..." A pause as he chewed his cheek, eyes moving fast with no focus as if his head was somewhere else. "I really care 'bout this gang. It don't seem that way sometimes, I know, but since the day Dutch started addin' people in our gang, I felt responsible for 'em. And people wonder why a sour-faced outlaw would care 'bout a group of random folk? I dunno. I just... I just care. They're my family." Some members of the gang would accuse Arthur of going soft, all guns. Bill, in special, seemed disappointed that his lead enforcer wasn't as wild and violent as he used to be. But, of course, Arthur was just part of a bunch of outlaws; they all knew how to use a gun. Then, the girls joined them, older men, and now there was a child among them -- of course he wouldn't act like a crazy maniac, risking his life and others' as before. As if Bill Williamson's opinion meant something to him, anyway.

Still, he was a man among other men; their lead enforcer, their main gunman. Arthur couldn't simply show weakness. He built a wall between him and the rest of the guns, most of them, so they would respect him as they should. He didn't feel like socializing so much with them, not in personal terms. Arthur couldn't confess his own troubles to them, because if he did, they would see him as a weak man. Dutch always kept saying that Arthur should put them in their places, and tell them who's boss during a gunfight. So he would do it, no problem. However, behind that thick cover of sourness and anger, Arthur hid a very sensitive man; he enjoyed the company of women, telling them that he liked to listen to what they had to say; he opened up more to guns like Lenny and Charles, because he sensed both were good people. Lenny loved reading, knew how discrimination worked, yet he didn't allow society to bend him. Charles built a wall of his own between himself and the rest of the gang, but he allowed Arthur to come closer, showing he was a kind man.

And he appreciated Mary-Beth's presence in the gang. She would listen to him without any kind of judgment, and she was indeed interested in his adventures. The mention of the giant was an example of her genuine excitement; and people wondered why Arthur was so protective of her. He didn't want the world to hurt her innocent and kind soul. "I ain't makin' fun of ya. I'm bein' serious. Wish I coulda shown it to you personally. Who knows, right? Maybe one day." He laughed heartily, glancing at the horizon sometimes. Her words made sense, nonetheless; the gang preached freedom, yet some of the members couldn't even leave the campsite. It was something Arthur thought a lot about -- the contradictions, especially after the Blackwater fiasco.

That brought his thoughts back to the young mother Dutch murdered on that boat. Arthur never saw what happened, but he couldn't stop pondering the moment. "What happened in Valentine was the consequence of wha' we did up Granite Pass. We robbed a Cornwall train, after all. I ain't pretendin' to be blind no more... things are changin' for us, outlaws. We been sloppy as hell, we actin' like a bunch of killers for wha'?" He frowned lightly, though his voice was still calm, there was a tone of frustration in it.

He gave her a nod, agreeing with her analogy to the plays. "Exactly that. We ain't just a small groups of hot-headed bastards no more. We have people to take care of, people to protect. Yet Dutch acts like he's still in his all glory, durin' the golden days of the wild west." He looked distressed now. "It ain't like I wanna undermine 'im or somethin'. I ain't no traitor. The thing is, Mary-Beth, I'm just worried. Worried 'bout us, our future. The world has changed, and they don't wanna folks like us no more."

[darkdisrepair]

c3e36 predictions - how the tables turn

theoretically if they revive laudna to how she was before she died (a la fanfic style, true res, divine cutting the cord or whatever, i don't really know the details) -

wouldn't that be so terribly poetic, for her and imogen?

here is a girl who has lived more of her life in limbo than not, returned to how she once was, given the life and the freedom that she has longed for so desperately (whether she knows that or not, i'm convinced some of her protectiveness of imogen is a melancholy for what could have been)

maybe tied to delilah still, maybe not - but whole. herself. returned home, to the arms of her friends and her family, returned to the people she loves and the people she died for, given a second (third) chance at life. at her own power.

it's beautiful, isn't it? the thought that maybe, even this early on, that in some ways laudna is almost there? of all of the members of bh, after this, i think she will have the most control over her past and will be the most equipped to handle it, even if when she is resurrected she is still in part tied to delilah.

i don't think delilah will last that much longer, nor should she. she's had her time as the ultimate villain. if not this next episode, soon.

and yet, on the other side of the coin, here is imogen, tethered to a woman who haunts her every waking moment, the woman who murdered her friends in front of her eyes, running from a destiny and a power that's building inside her, always wondering when she'll lose control-

imogen, guilt-ridden for being the survivor. for not doing more, knowing more, seeing what was going to happen. being trapped into an impossible situation by a murderer, her living nightmare.

how awful. how ironic, and how dreadfully familiar that story is, isn't it?

[cocogum]

Casey is lost.

It’s tragic to realize that the original timeline was supposed to truly end with everyone dying on their own by sacrificing themselves to protect what’s left of their home planet.

Despite the low numbers and chances of survival from this whole experience, the brothers did not care and still kept trying to live until their last breaths.

Because of this movie, we come to find out that all the funny shenanigans and good memories that the Hamato family experienced were for it to all end in tragedy and loneliness.

It’s strange to think that THIS was in actuality the original timeline (and demise) for the turtles. Because it’s a bit hard to believe that they had created so many memories together during missions that they finally can’t complete one. And yet, it’s the most realistic ending for these four.

With so many good things happening to you, you’re bound to receive some bad ones later on. Yes, the turtles had a long life and managed to get so many adventures before it all came crashing down on them. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe that’s acceptable. They died in tragedy but a good sleep will do them good.

Not to mention that it’s quite ironic and poetic that all of those horrific tragedies happened because of Leo’s cockiness.

It all started with Leo. And it ended with Leo.

There is a reoccurring theme in the movie that keeps on supporting Leo no matter what action he presses on the team to do.

And that is the theme of time.

Throughout the movie, there was a repeated conversation about the same topic going on between Leo and Donnie that introduces the idea that no matter how a situation may look impossible, anything is possible. Donnie seems to reject that way of thinking while Leo completely adopts it. We have Donnie explaining why this belief of his brother is deeply flawed based on the reality of things and how not everything just coincidentally goes according to him.

This theme took place in two scenes.

The first was right in the beginning with the pizza box challenge and the second was when they were about to sneak into Krang’s ship.

But it looks like whatever type of danger was thrown at the family, it seems like Leo’s perseverance and unbelievable luck were right all along while Donnie’s logic and realistic views were mistaken.

Or as Leo delicately puts it:

“Donnie’s WRONG!”

Yeah, sure everything went fine after Leo put Krang back in the prison dimension but this success means that a new timeline has been added to the original one.

Saving the world before Krang could have had access to his army meant that the timeline split itself and now has a second-time branch.

This not only reinforces the fact that rise!tmnt is inconspicuously darker than it intends to be, but it also means something big for Casey.

He’ll never actually see his timeline again.

He’ll never see his masters and his mother.

And he’ll never know what happened to the rest of his comrades who were fighting before Casey entered the portal made by Mikey.

Your choices are what shape you as a person over time. Now that the events of the past have been altered, it’s highly likely that the Hamato family will not act the same way Casey once knew them as.

Just because Casey knows these people, that doesn’t mean they’ll grow up to act the same way they did in his timeline.

Even though everyone had a happy ending, Casey is, unfortunately, the only one who doesn’t have one whether he realizes it or not. His friends and family aren’t there. They were long gone in a future that has been unwillingly abandoned by him.

He would literally never see the people he cares about ever again.

Casey might not even meet himself in this timeline.

It is unclear who his father could be but the chances of Cassandra meeting him again without the apocalypse could be very thin.

The krang invasion is what brought people from everywhere together. This is where she must’ve met him and had Casey. So since the krang’s attack never happened in this timeline, Cassandra might never meet Casey’s father and have him.

Leo was so caught up in the events of the potential threat of the Krang invasion that he, along with everyone else, did not think about the consequences that it would bring.

Everything comes with a price.

Whether they won or lost the battle, there would always be good things and bad things trailing their actions.

This is one of them.

Defeating the Krang before the invasion could happen has likely made sure that Casey won’t exist in this timeline.

Sure, the Casey from the timeline where they lost against the Krang can still live in the second timeline. But he’ll be aware that he’ll never exist in this one. In a timeline where people don’t have to live in caves, don’t have to eat rats for every meal of the day, don’t have to constantly hide in fear of getting killed, don’t have to listen to horrifying stories about the invaders, and don’t have to hear the cries and wailing of the people who lost their loved ones during missions.

His existence never belonged in a happy carefree one.

“Our future isn’t written until WE write it!”

Leo’s quote may be the cruellest thing Casey has ever heard.

Can you imagine being in one of the turtles’ shoes?? Like they have to eat rats for dinner that’s like trying to eat your dad’s ancestry. And they eat that for EVERY SINGLE MEAL for the rest of their lives??? Who even decided that they should all eat rats?!!!?!

[thechaoticfanartist]

grim's never been afraid of death, not really. she's been scared she would die, true, but she wasn't afraid of death. not really. grim would gladly sacrifice her own life if it saved somebody else's, she isn't afraid of death. she isn't afraid of dying.

at least, through most of the war. in the end, even then she isn't afraid of it. she isn't afraid of death or to die.

not until she's on her way to utapau to face grievous. to face order 66. because it hits her then, that there is the very real chance of death. it wouldn't be the first time, of course not. but this time was different.

this time not only was there the possibility that she would die, but she had the knowledge of so many others that would die too. and she knows all of their stories. but grim? she's the only story she doesn't know.

she knows obi-wan will live. but she's not obi-wan.

the one advantage grim has is that she knows it will happen. that won't save her. and how tragically poetic would it be if she died as a result of what she had given up her life to stop already?

she's convinced that this will be the end of her story. it will be a tragedy, and she'll die at the end of it.

and funnily enough, even though she has faced death many times by now. she's afraid. she doesn't want to die.

she begs obi-wan to not let her die. she makes him promise her he won't, knowing it's a promise that would be impossible to keep. knowing that this now, was the end.

and oh how poetic would it be if she died too?

she knows that no matter what her life would end for a second time. the first had been her choice and she had gained a new one with it. this time she would not be the one stolen from her life, her life would be stolen from her. she would not gain a new life with it.

she's never been afraid of death. and she's afraid.

[supercorpkid]

Rescue Mission – Suicide Mission.

Part 4 - Not a fair fight.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Brainy x Reader, Eliza Danvers x Granddaughter!Reader.

Word count: 2480.

Warnings: Injuries. Pain. Angst. Some graphic fight scenes I guess.

Previously on the series - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Whatever it cost.

Your life has been put at stake before. You almost died three or four times. Honestly, too much for a 16-year-old-girl. But this. This is different. There’s no aunt Alex to call for help, no Supergirl coming in to help you pick up the pieces. No Lena waiting for you at home with comfort hugs and donuts.

You land on the DEO, shaking. You thought about not coming the entire way here. What if you just wait until Supergirl wakes up so she can help? Would it be that bad?

“Brainy!” You call him, and he turns around to you. Tablet in hands, still monitoring the shapeshifters. “Can we wait until my momma wakes up? Then we can go for them. I mean, I didn’t see much damage around the city so-”

“We can’t.” He stops you.

“Why? Honestly, we both know I’m no match for a shapeshifter.” You say, and Brainy looks up from his tablet.

“Oh.” He smiles a little. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

“I’m sorry?” But it doesn’t take long until you tie all the knots. Of course. Of course you couldn’t trust anybody!

Brainy turns into Supergirl right in front of your eyes, and hits you with a blow of freeze breath that throws you back down. You fall, all fours, and look up to the shapeshifter in front of you.

“You are definitely not a match for us.” It presses something in the tablet and soon you hear a woosh of air coming from containment and landing a punch on your face.

Shit! Fuck! Damn it!

It played you just right! Made you believe that you could trust ‘Brainy’ because he found your family, and imprisoned one of the shapeshifters, but it was obviously just a plan. Now both are here in front of you, and if one was already hard enough, two looks impossible to beat.

You get up and fly out of the DEO. First superhero rule: if possible, take the fight to where no civilians can get hurt, so you will have less casualties. In this case, maybe just yours is enough.

The other two Supergirls fly right behind you. You feel one of them grabbing your feet and tossing you back to the ground. You fly up less than a palm before your body hits the concrete. You keep flying farther away from the city, but it’s forced to stop sooner than you would like.

One of the Supergirls punches you down, and you feel your body smashing against a boulder in the desert, making a hole on the hard rock. Dust rises up and around you. You cough, getting up from the hole and you look at both aliens in front of you, using your momma’s pretty face. You can’t win. You wouldn’t be able to win even if you were up against just one Supergirl, let alone two. You breathe deep. You were right. Two Kryptonians are better than one. You just wish this advantage were to your side.

“So, it was you all along.” You yell from a distance.

“I told you not to trust anyone.” You hear Kara’s voice and your heart beats faster. “But I suppose you are just a kid.”

“I am.” You agree with your head, taking a deep breath. “But I am her kid!”

You fly towards them, punching one in the face, making it fall in the hard rock, like you did, breaking it off in the process. But you won’t give it a chance of recovery. You fly down, settling on top of its body. Kara’s body.

“You don’t deserve this face!” You say, giving it another punch. “You don’t deserve these powers!” Another one. “You don’t deserve to wear this crest on your chest!” It’s where you punch after and you watch the alien losing its breath, looking as beat up as you found your momma. You raise your fist again, ready to end it, and feel the other alien grabbing your hand.

“What makes you think you do?” It says, flying high with you, while you try to untangle yourself from its firm grip. When you look up again, it has changed its form. You’re face to face with yourself.

“I’m not a phony!” You twist around, and it drops your hand, kicking you in the chest instead. You fly far away, trying to regain your breath. “But now it’s a fair fight.”

“Is it?” It asks, tilting its head at you. You look at your face staring at yourself on the other side and smile. Yes. Now it’s a fair fight. You know your strengths, and you know your weaknesses. And you have so many of them.

It flies closed fist at you, but you saw it coming, it’s always your first move. You fly out of the way, hitting its back with your heat vision, making it fall on the ground, raising up dirt all around it.

“You can’t win.” Supergirl gets up from the hole it was in. Oh, come on, it was almost gone. You use your heat vision again, but it’s met in the middle with its own heat vision. Shit, this is useless. Fighting Kryptonians it’s a fucking hell.

The other alien rises from the ground, and you see yourself between both of them. You don’t have a lot of options, it’s clear to you. You can run, but where to? You can buy yourself time, but for what? Help isn’t coming, you know that.

“We shouldn’t both waste our time with this kid.” Fake Supergirl says, almost ignoring your presence right there between them. “You know where she took them. Go get them.”

Breath stops midway. Heart stops mid beat. Time slows at its own accord.

No. Not them. Not your family.

“Oh yes, we should thank you, by the way.” The other Superkid flies to Supergirl’ side, and your eyes are filled with tears with the sight of that. You wanted that. You wanted a Superkid and Supergirl team-up. Instead, two monsters are using your faces, bodies and powers. They don’t seem to acknowledge your discomfort with the scene, as they go on.

“Getting the whole family together in one place. You just made our job a lot easier. Now we can kill Supergirl and everyone she loves in just one blow. And you? You’ll be alive to see it all going down with your help.”

You swallow hard knowing they are right. You helped. You thought you were the one doing the saving, but they were letting you. They were playing you, so you can do the job for them and that’s why it felt so easy. That’s why you encountered almost no resistance; it was all for this moment right here.

It’s your fault Lena has no memories. It’s your fault Jamie was taken. It’s your fault Supergirl is not here defending the city and the family. And now it will be your fault they’ll kill all your family in one blow.

You feel something burning inside of you. It’s not anger, it’s not sadness. It’s a mix of all the feelings you once had. It’s the slow burn of love, and the heavy taste of hate on your mouth. It’s the bittersweetness of having such a strong and rotten last name, and the wonderfulness of being a part of this family. It’s the cautiousness of hiding your powers, and the relentless yearn of letting go and bursting into flames, destroying everything and everyone on your way. But most of all, it’s that moment where ‘you should do better’ kicks the ‘you’re doing great’ to the side of the curbs and takes a hold on you.

You could even try to hold this feeling inside you, but you know better. This is the time to stop thinking, stop using your powers, and let them use you instead.

“Don’t thank me just yet.” You say with a little smile playing on your lips.

Fighting two of them was never going to be a fair fight and you know it. Even with you letting your powers take over you, even after beating them, even with this faintest feeling that you might -just might- pull this off because you’re fighting for the right reasons.

It doesn’t take long until you find yourself trapped under both getting punches after punches. The taste of blood is strong on your mouth. You know you’re going to lose. You’re minutes away from blacking out.

You have been beaten down before. By red kryptonite Kara, by villains using green kryptonite against you, by aliens from another dimension, by your own fears and your anxiety. You were once beaten down to the point of suffocation. You were once covered in your own blood and vomit. For time and time again, you thought you were going to die. Once you even prayed that you would.

This moment right here, feels like another one of those. You can feel it. When they’re beating you down so hard your blood is the one splashing on their faces, when you slowly feel yourself losing consciousness. When the last thing you see before your mind goes totally blank is Lena’s eyes and Kara’ smile. Maybe this is the last time you feel you are going to die. Maybe this time you’re actually dying.

And you know what comes next. They’ll go to the Fortress. March in there using your face. It’s your face your family is going to see blowing up the entire place. And when they realize it’s not you, it will be too late, they will be doomed. Your whole family will be destroyed like they promised in the message.

You won’t accept it. You may die, but your family won’t.

You untangle yourself from them. Grab Supergirl’s cape -capes are lame, you still remember that- and fly up. Up. Up. Up. The other shapeshifter follows you, trying to catch you before you do what they understand now it’s going to happen.

“If you do this, you will die!” You hear Kara’s voice. But it’s not her, and you know your Kara would do anything to protect her family. Anything.

“I don’t care if it kills me. All I care about is taking you down with me!” You say and you reach the exact point. You know if you keep going, you’ll be too far gone. You almost died in outer space once. You don’t know exactly how you survived, but you know this time you can’t pull it off again.

You hold Supergirl’s cape stronger and spin it around. You see the shapeshifter trying to change its form, but it’s too late. You toss it into space and look down to the other one.

“Two Superkids dying in outer space together is almost… Poetic.” You fly towards the other shapeshifter, the one with your face.

“You don’t want to do this.” It says, staring at you, like it's looking at your soul.

“You’re right, I don’t.” You grab its throat and look up. “But it’s whatever it costs!”

Up. Up. Up.

No air left in your lungs, no other thought except that this is the right thing. Dying was never going to feel right but dying for your family, it’s the closest you could ever feel to death being right.

The other you are now transformed back into its ugly alien form, turning blue. They’re gone. It’s over.

You close your eyes feeling light-headed and you feel like crying. It doesn’t matter if it’s the right thing or if it’s for your family, you still don’t want to die, and you’ll still miss them.

You know this won’t matter. But maybe, just maybe, the watch will send them a signal and Kara will come for your body when she wakes up. That way they can mourn you properly. All of them, but Lena since she doesn’t even remember you anymore. At least she won’t suffer, you think. You press the emergency watch. And you’re out.

“Will you please stop going to outer space?” You hear softly in your ear, and you open your eyes trying to focus them on what is before you. Blonde locks flying in the wind, a perfect baby blue sky over you, and that warm smile only one person in this universe has. “I’ve got you, little one. You’ve got me before; I’ve got you now.”

You smile. And before passing out again you think that you have to stop almost dying. It’s starting to get truly exhausting.

You open your eyes, looking around to make sure you actually didn’t die. It’s stupid, you know, but still you find it’s hard to believe you pulled it off. Somehow you pulled it off.

Alex is in the bed next to you, awake, finally. Brainy is also in a bed, the real one that was probably hurt by the shapeshifters so one of them could take his place. Kara is pacing around nervously, and the rest of the family are also in the infirmary, creeping around the sick ones.

“You fucking dipshit!” Jamie slaps your arm, and you almost feel the sting. “I told you to come back. You promised you would come back whatever it costs!”

“Well… I’m here.” You give her a little smile and she rolls her eyes, full of tears. Next thing you know, she is hugging you tight, and sobbing on your suit.

“I hate you.” She whispers in your ear, and you smile, while the whole family looks at both of you. “I hate you and your hero complex.”

“I love you too.” You smile and she lets go of you with a smile. Kara is the next one to throw her arms around you and kiss your temple.

“You’re the best superhero in this town.” She says, and you almost believe her. Almost.

“Mom.” You let go of Kara and look around in the room. “Where is she?”

They all stare at you blankly. No one says a thing.

“Where is Lena?” You demand, and Kara drops her head low and lets out a sigh.

“We’re gonna get her back, kid.” Her hand cups your face, and she strokes your cheek. You see the pain in her eyes, and you feel tears forming on yours. “One thing at a time.”

Your heart squeezes on your chest, and you forget about the fact that you were probably actually dead for at least a minute, not long ago. This doesn’t seem remotely important, as Lena not having her memories and not knowing who you are right now. You almost died, and your mom is not here to hold you gently and say, ‘you’re ok babygirl’.

Kara seems to be able to read your mind, like Lena usually does, when she puts her hand on your knee and gives it a gentle and assuring squeeze. “One thing at a time, baby.”

[mysticetus]

I think the piece of Petscop I'm trying to parse through is Lina. Always Lina. The Windmill Girl. Anna's sister. She disappeared. She died. She was reborn. Rainer made a grave for her in game. "They didn't see her." But yet. In a way almost impossible: "[Lina] in driver's seat. Me in back." "Family."

Did she die at all? Or did a piece of her die? What did Marvin do? What is rebirthing? What was the Windmill? If he was so intent on creating Tiara, an optimal version of Lina, then what happened? What did he do? What did he do? What did he do?

My brain is still doing the mental gymnastics to connect it all together

hi there i saw this ask late last night but im finally answering it. heres a response i typed at 3 am while kinda mad (you didnt make me mad, im just mad at the world):

what i find so poetic about lina is it doesnt matter what marvin did because the story is about the aftermath of it rather than the inciting incident itself. Its not our business what happened, rainer of course asks “what did you do?” but petscop exists in the aftermath. We exist in the aftermath. Nobody but marvin and lina knows what happened at the windmill, probably. The windmill itself is likely a metaphor. But it ultimately does not matter what any of it means. It could be anything and the story would still apply. I like petscop because it allows room for that. It doesnt ask what happened and it never shows you what happened. A lot of people love to ask what happened. But does it matter? What matters is the gaping holes and destructive craters it left behind, in all the people around it. most stories would love to tell you what happened in horrific detail, because the horror of what happens to people is engaging. This is something that keeps me up at night and causes me to shake with rage. Rainer plays the part of someone trying to dig into a tragedy out of reach. Grave robbery is vile. He came to learn this, and hes a piece of shit for it. Asking and digging reopens old wounds, to satisfy this hunger to know what happened, and why? Because its just so scary you cant look away? It eats at you? It eats at lina too, probably. It eats at care.

As for what im going to add to this now at 1 PM, i like that lina is able to exist in this quasi-dead state. its how it feels when something bad happens to you. rainer's definition of deceased is dubious and i think he doesnt mean literally dead when he creates a grave and mourns someone. you can feel unseen when these things happen to you, too. not everyone can see you but some people can. see death/bad girl by black dresses for more info <- dont actually

also i personally dont understand the reading that tiara is an ideal form of lina, or really any kind of predetermined entity at all, its more like a husk for belle to step into. in my eyes.

the more i talk about this the more i feel like im lowering myself into a vat of acid. basically i think you shouldnt sweat it. the way i see it its far less grounded in reality than you think and you kind of just have to see beacons