#blow everything else out of the water like it does not matter how many or how few ppl u get in that room it could be hoshi by

[tvxcue]

i really am spending too much time thinking abt a hypothetical kpop animal representative competition but it would be so funny

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i am confused

Making this its own separate post + expanding on it so it doesn’t get lost in the quagmire that is the book 7 part 8 update 💀

Feel free to let me know your own thoughts or theories too, I’m just rambling here.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

So like… Is anyone else confused as to how Silver can use his UM Meet in a Dream so many times with NO ONE making a comment about how he's building up a considerable amount of blot???????

Vargas Camp seems to suggest that using one's UM typically uses up a considerable amount of magic compared to a non-UM spell. (The boys felt it would be dangerous to cast UM without at least a sizable magestone.) This is not true of all UMs though; Kalim's Oasis Maker, for example, allows him to offer up a small amount of magic to produce a great amount of water. So let's say for argument's sake that Silver's UM is similar to Kalim's and does not require a ton of magic per use. (Edit: this detail is confirmed true in the recent update.)

But??? That still doesn't make a ton of sense???? Silver was in constant battles against Silver Owls while in Lilia's dream, meaning he is physically being chipped away at. No matter how physically fit, capable, or well-trained he is, Silver is only human and his stamina and perseverance has its limits. He also suffered immense emotional distress in Lilia's dream after realizing that he is the son of the man who killed Malleus's mother ON TOP of having doubts that he is worthy of Lilia's love AND fixating on how no matter how hard he tries, he can never truly "pay back" his father. I guess it can be argued that the pixies healed them on their trek (+ there was that one scene where Lilia and co. rest in a Silver Owls camp) and that Silver "got over" his feelings after Sebek shouted at him about how much Silver is loved... Even then, that's not really a good explanation??? Silver climbed up those daunting mountains surrounding Castle Blackscale--mountains which have oppressive magic that harms humans. This is POST-pixie encounter, so he'd still be walking in with damage from that, not to mention the blow of lightning magic he took from Maleanor???? I'd also think that while Sebek's pep talk (well, pep shout) helped clear Silver's head, it wouldn't invoke a sudden character change on the spot; Silver would no doubt still have lingering feelings and would need time to properly sort them out and reconcile with them. They haven't been addressed in full yet, at least not until Silver can like get some closure on his own terms, maybe by sitting down and talking with Lilia about everything they learned. (That's definitely a topic for post book 7 though.) Now think about how many times Silver is expected to use his UM. At minimum, he has already used it 4 times (to show up in Yuu's dream, then to hop into Sebek's dream, then Lilia's, then Idia's). In the most recent update, Silver has used it no less than an additional 4 times (to jump from Idia's dream to Epel's, then to Rook's, then to Vil's, then to presumably a Scarabia boy's which is where the next update will likely pick up). THAT'S ALREADY 8 TIMES????? And he has like 11 or 12 more dreams to visit, including having to jump back to Idia’s dream and then prep for fighting Malleus???? It's like 20 times Silver is expected to use his UM, with very little down time in between because... oh yeah, TWISTED WONDERLAND IS ABOUT TO HAVE ETERNAL NAP TIME IF THEY DON'T HURRY TF UP 🤡 That's not even mentioning the increased loads each time Silver casts his UM (since they're collecting students like Pokemon to gang up on Malleus). If previous UMs imply anything, more people should make it more difficult to pull off a spell. Ruggie had to use a magic-enhancing potion to control a whole statium, Cater is strained the more clones he creates at any given time. Jamil's hypnosis magic cast upon a group causes him to accumulate blot so much faster. Shouldn't this be a major concern for Silver??????? Should I be concerned for Silver????????

Don't get me wrong, I love that we're able to dream hop and see what each of the main cast characters are dreaming of, but 💦 I don't know if I should be worried or not about Silver's health???????? Because I could see why the devs would just hand wave it off in this instance (cuz how else are they going to travel to each dream and save the world? They're kind of on a time crunch here...), but at the same time I can see it going the other way and sort of breaking immersion?? Unless this is all intentional and they're going to jumpscare us with a Silver OB or him struggling against it later in book 7 💀 (I mean... the guy hasn't gotten his limited SSR for book 7 yet, so maybe it'll be related to this???)

Or is it just possible for him to break the limits of his magic since this is a dream...? We’ve seen other characters OB at will and be able to seemingly stay rational while in that form... but if that's the case, then why does Silver still feel tired and physically worn down in Lilia's dream after fighting so much? Why do they worry about taking too many hits and actually dying within the dreams? Can't he theoretically stay at "perfect" health after using his magic so much???

Does it not count as using “real” magic since they’re in a dream and therefore have much more flexibility in how they spellcast?? Or is it that it’s their dream!selves casting so it’s not real magic since it’s not their physical forms spellcasting…? Is blot accumulation slowed since Silver is technically sleeping and rest helps with healing from blot?? But then how does that impact their real bodies if at all?

I DON'T KNOW, I'M CONFUSED OTL

[slayfk]

A Letter From Banner Elk

by Chris Davis

An intro from slayfk: Banner Elk is a small municipality in Avery County, North Carolina. It’s right near Boone, Valle Crucius, and Blowing Rock—that whole area. It’s a cute town that is home to a large amount of elderly retirees and many local shops. Hurricane Helene completely cut Banner Elk off from the rest of the world. Residents have no internet, no power, no way to get out. It is only accessible by air. The bridge that connects it to the rest of the world looks like this now:

Banner Elk is a beautiful town full of kind people and they need help. Chris Davis, a resident of Elk River in Banner Elk, wrote a plea to the outside world and managed to get it through. I will paste it below, as it’s incredibly important to read.

“Inside the Elk River community of Banner Elk, we are stranded. No power, no water. All day Saturday we cut trails through the trees fallen over the roads, in hope small vehicles can move around and we can check on each other.

If we reach the bottom of the mountain, we understand that the bridge over the Elk River is out. We are stranded. But, we do not know how stranded everyone else is.

We need intelligence; status of the outside world. Infrastructure. For instance, it would help to know when roads will be repaired so that help can come.

There are 20 horses at the barn. They probably have water for three days. Horses will drink 10 gallons of water a day. Do the math.

There are elderly people on the mountain. One lady has so many trees to her house we cannot see our way to cut through to check on her.

It seems as if a flood washed out the bottom and a tornado took out everything else.

Some homes have generators. That does not mean people whose generators are running are actually here. I hear them running. It is only a matter of time before fuel runs out.

I am able to connect with you because one neighbor, if he stands in the right place on his deck, has use of a telephone that allowed me to reach my wife.

She connected with my out of town neighbor who has a generator who shared her Wi-Fi password that I can at least come to their house charge batteries and send you this note.

We hear rumors of helicopters coming in to rescue people.

It is probably worse somewhere else. We will continue to try to clear the roads in our community to support one another and be ready for an evacuation.

Obviously, the Mountain communities will need all the help they can get. Immediately and later.

In the meantime, basic facts matter a lot. We just need to know what the situation is so that we can make rational decisions.

I’m only getting bits and pieces of information from other people such as Newland is flooded and the National Guard is there; mud slides block the Eagles nest community from getting out; the road to Boone is washed out…”

An outro from slayfk: This is not a unique story. Towns all across Appalachia and the southeast states are cut off from the world or utterly decimated. Asheville is the most notable, but there’s also Chimney Rock NC, Marshall NC, Junaluska NC, Swannanoa NC, Biltmore Village NC, and more. Entire towns are ruined. People are trapped. People are trapped with no way to escape and they don’t know what’s going to happen to them. People are starving, animals are starving, 600 people are missing and 100 people are dead.

Appalachia is suffering. No one in power cares.

Talk about us. Donate to rescuers and aid funds. Don’t let the government sweep us under the rug again. We are here and we need help.

[vampiricgf]

☆ MOON SHADOWS

⤷ hc request for @schadowheart as part of my headcanons for gaza which you can find more about here! If you can donate and would like to receive a hc in exchange too please do <3

mother superior/dark justiciar shadowheart non sharran reader/tav angst relationship. sfw. toxic relationship dynamics.

despite how much she cares for you her dedication to shar trumps everything else, it has to if she's in the position of mother superior/dark justiciar. shadowheart isn't blind, she knows it's not a "have your cake and eat it too" situation

but she would still try, in her own way. I think she would keep you at arms length when it comes to anything explicitly about her activities in the cloister, not to be secretive but to spare you the burden of knowledge, to give you deniability. sharrans hunt selunites as well as mystra and lethander worshippers, you don't need to know details of things like that or of the methods used by justiciars for information gathering or punishment

she knows you're not blind either and you are already aware of the more gruesome things shar demands of her faithful but it's her own bare bones attempt at protecting you and hopefully allowing you to maintain a distinction between your version of her and the version of her that can commit acts that are less than merciful for her faith

it's an intense source of shame when she's with you and it plants a tiny seed of resentment in her mind. it's hard to keep in her head that it isn't your fault, she's the one constructing your relationship this way, but still. you inherently make her question her faith and if this balancing act is worth it, which digs a deeper hole in her heart because it's clear to her that she can't have both you and shar

but she still wouldn't be jumping to throw in the towel, not after experiencing real care and love with you after being starved of it for so long. so the internal battle would continue and as it does it'll become more and more difficult for her to keep herself together

there would be more arguments, more irritation, more unclear communication as she doesn't want to directly blame you for whats going on in her head or speak words of doubt into existence regarding her faith, and the walls of separation would soar higher and higher in tandem with her faith bound duty until eventually nearly all of her is walled off to you

but even then she wouldn't be willing to let you go. you can learn to lick love off a knife if it's all you have and she's had a lifetime of doing it for shar, she'll do it with you too. it doesn't matter how explosive or volatile arguments become, she'll say whatever she thinks is necessary to soothe you in the moment and keep some peace until the next storm blows through

it's an uneasy arrangement but eventually it becomes second nature to navigate emotional outbursts or the times you beg her to just talk to you. depending on how many years it's been it also becomes easier for her to simply answer with a "you know I can't" and keep her heart detached against any tearful displays from you

if you do finally attempt to leave I think she would snap, little by little all these cracks and fissures have been forming and that would be like the final step across an icy surface that's too thin to hold up and plunging into subzero water. she wouldn't go full delusional yandere but you're not getting away from her so easily

would frame it constantly as you giving up, being the weak one, being the one unwilling to sacrifice for mutual happiness and her own resentment from her self imposed strain would make the words come out like poison dipped arrows. to her you would be weak and unwilling because she's already done so much, put herself under so much stress just to hold onto you and yet you can't handle even a fraction of the same?

it would be impossible for her to see that it isn't the case, that saying those things to you or about you isn't completely correct because her own view of the relationship has become so warped and years of that stress from her near constant crisis of faith would spill out like floodwater

but, per shars tenants, she would give over that pain and use it in her acts done in shars name. detached brutality or particularly vile subterfuge would become easy for her. there would no longer be any separation between who she is and her role in her religion. it would all become fully one in the same and her faith would only deepen because she would view it as either being rewarded by the goddess or favored by her in some way for remaining faithful despite the difficulties in your relationship. her reward for no longer being burdened by the unfaithful

all her pain and sorrow over your relationship would never be properly dealt with, not even close. it would remain a sore spot, a twin to the wound on her hand that burns constantly no matter how "rewarded" she is by shar for brute forcing her way through it to continue her duty

[lorre-verie]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡. 4 ࿐ྂ 

summary: Ao’nung’s unbridled and seemingly nonsensical rage causes him to do the dumbest thing you’ve ever seen him do in your entire 15 years of living. The next time you talk to Neteyam, you realise it is you who must pay for the weight of your brother’s crimes.

word count: 2.1k

pairings: neteyam x gn! Ao’nung’s older twin! Reader

warnings: sadness, ao’nung and reader reconciling, i think there’s cussing somewhere, more sadness

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | masterlist

“You’ve struck me down and thrown away my heart, and you dare laugh?” Neteyam grasped at his chest, mimicking heartbreak. You laughed harder at his amusing behaviour. He kept finding ways to cheer you up, and you were grateful to him for it. 

The day after Ao’nung’s outburst, you came to Neteyam for comfort. You were both sitting on a tiny sandy island just a little ways from Awa’atlu, cracking jokes and teaching each other stuff.

He had taught you some more english lingo, and you taught him how to swim faster. Not too fast though, you worried that if you taught him too well he’d be faster than you. 

You never told him about what Ao’nung had said the other night, you just wanted him to make you feel like everything was going to be okay again. You had gotten used to his presence and the way he made a deep buzzing sound in your heart.

“Okay okay, what’s a playboy again?” you tried to comprehend the language, but there were just so many rules and confusing terms. “A playboy is a guy who can get a lot of people pining for him, you know, like me,” he smiled smugly.

You laughed, slapping his elbow at his amazingly stupid words.“Yeah, right! The only person you talk to aside from your family is me! And I don’t like you in that way,” you retorted, stifling the rest of your laugh. 

“Really?” he frowned, before leaning in closer to you, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. “Wanna test that theory?” he smiled. 

This was the second time Neteyam had been this close, the distance between you two threatening to close ever so suddenly like a door in a room with an open window. You wanted to kiss him, but it just felt too soon. 

You placed a hand gently on his chest, about to push him away, but before you could the sounds of an ilu splashing out of the water caught both your attention. Ao’nung leered at you two with immeasurable anger behind his eyes, something that Neteyam hadn’t been able to catch. 

“Hey fish lips, give us some space, yeah?” Neteyam called out to him with a grin on his face. With that you quickly pushed Neteyam away, getting up on your feet. “Ao’nung,” you put your two hands out as if to defend yourself,  “this isn’t what it looks like.”

Neteyam looked confused at your statement. He was still sitting down, looking at how Ao’nung practically leapt off the ilu, taking heavy steps towards you with a scowl on his face. “Really?” your brother spat. “Your excuses are getting lamer and lamer as the days go by, Y/N.” 

Your ears flattened, clenching your jaw. “Ao’nung, let’s go talk somewhere else.” you avoided Neteyam’s gaze, continuing to look at your younger twin.

“No. We can talk right here, in front of him.” Ao’nung pointed at the still bewildered omaticayan who was getting up, his finger trembling with fury.

“Fine!” you snapped. “I still don’t get why you’re so hung up about me and Tsireya liking people. It’s not that serious!” 

“It’s not about you liking people.” he snarled. “It’s about you liking them. They aren’t one of us!”

“Why the hell does that matter!” you shouted back. Your brother’s eyes widened when the foreign word spilled out of your mouth, before his expression turned hard.

“He’s brainwashing you.” he whispered to himself, as if he had come to a mind blowing realisation. 

“Y/N, he’s one of those demons, we can’t trust them!” as he got closer to you, you backed away before Neteyam stopped him by the shoulder. “Don’t get any closer,” he warned, his voice low. 

“Get off me, demon.” Ao’nung spat, grabbing Neteyam’s arm and throwing it off his own shoulder, seemingly appalled at the touch. 

“I’ve already gotten rid of your brother, don’t make me do the same to you–” he stopped mid sentence, as if caught off guard. His body froze, lips still parted. 

A short moment of silence followed that was almost unbearable. 

“What did you say?” Neteyam spoke up, eyes turned to slits. Ao’nung couldn’t answer him, his frightened eyes fixed on you. You inhaled deeply, suppressing the anger that boiled under your skin. If your little brother had meant what he just said, he was in for it now. 

“Ao’nung,” you seethed, your voice low.

“What did you do?”

(this would be a VERY appropriate time to play slipping through my fingers by ABBA)

You watched silently as Neteyam dragged your brother by the kuru, bringing him to his father. “Tell him what you told me,” he practically growled, tugging on Ao’nung’s kuru. Your brother fell silent for a bit, before confessing what he’d done.

He’d told the father of the boy he’d just doomed that he tricked his son into going out of the reef, leaving him to fend for himself for a ‘joke.’

The sky felt like it was crumbling as you sat there, legs dangling at the edge of your marui, watching people leave and return on their ilus in a desperate search for Neteyam’s brother. You were to stay back and assist any affairs unrelated to his disappearance, an order met by your protests at first.

You felt a shift in the atmosphere, the feeling of someone’s tenseness radiating through the air. “Ao’nung.” you called out, and you imagined him stiffening. “Come,” you patted the spot next to you. “Sit.” 

Reluctantly, he dragged his heavy body towards you, sitting down without a word. He had expected you to start scolding him, to start screaming at him for his stupidity, but instead, 

you snaked your arm around his shoulder, pulling him towards you. 

“I don’t know what reason you had for doing what you did, but I just want you to know,” he sucked in a breath, awaiting his damnation. 

“You’re going to be alright,” you smiled softly, nudging his head to rest on your shoulder. 

Huh?

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that when the time comes, I’ll be here for you.” 

He was utterly baffled. 

What were you doing? 

Trying to guilt him into apologising? 

Because you didn’t need to do that, he already would have to pay for his stupid crime for the rest of his life. He wanted to lift his head up, to reject your reassurance,

but he just couldn’t. 

Instead, a single tear flowed down his cheek, landing softly on your skin. 

With your hand placed softly on his shoulder, you rest your head upon his, gently rubbing soothing circles into his tense muscles.

“Y/N! The meanies kept on picking me today!” a tiny Ao’nung cried to you, his tears soaking your shoulder as he cried on it. 

“Shh, baby bro. It’s going to be alright,” a little you hugged him tightly, leading him to sit where you both were sitting right now. 

The silence was filled with his sniffles, both past and present. 

“You’re going to be alright.” both little you and present you whispered, shutting your eyes tightly and squeezing his shoulder. 

The memory of the promise you made to him rushed back to you, as clear as if it had happened yesterday. Despite being twins, he was much smaller than you at the time, which made him an easy target for others to tease. 

Although the teasing was meant to be lighthearted, he struggled to find the humour in it, which was kind of ironic now. 

“Nung,” the small you said, a serious look in your eyes. 

You smiled to yourself, remembering your slurred words. You were only 5 years old at the time, your sentences barely coherent to adults. But being twins, you could understand each other perfectly.

“I will protect you, always.” 

“No matter what?”

“No matter what. 

nothing can ever, 

ever, 

take me away from you,

I. promise.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you realised, you had already broken that promise many times over.

Each time you retreated to your private little sanctuary, avoiding your problems, you were also avoiding him. 

Perhaps, just perhaps, it was not escaping from your duties that made you guilty, but it was escaping from your brother.

You recollected a memory of returning home from a little escapade, having spent the time climbing trees. This was when you were 7, before you’d even found the cave. 

As you arrived back home, you saw your mother attending to Ao'nung, who had a deep cut on his arm, crying loudly. A tiny Tsireya was there too, offering comfort by holding his hand. Apparently, it happened while he was in the water alone. “He said he wasn’t watching where he was going, and knocked into a rock,” your mother explained.

But the fear and confusion in his eyes as he looked up at you told you otherwise.

You never got to find out what truly happened, because you never really cared to ask. You were too obsessed with finding your own free time. 

Unbeknownst to you, a dark silhouette creeped by the entrance of your marui. It leered at you comforting your little brother, ears flicking with contempt as it heard your small reassurances.

It's not your fault,

I’m so sorry,

Everything will be fine.

And as soon as the shadow appeared, it was gone. 

Lo’ak came back past eclipse with one of your own people who’d found him just within the reef, you were able to hear the relieved sighs of your parents and his own as he approached the island. 

You stood behind your father, his hand firmly on the back of Ao’nung’s neck. Lo’ak had a look of pure anger on his face when he looked at your brother, like he wanted to punt him in the face, only to be stopped by his father as he stomped up onto the woven deck. 

Jake Sully inspected his son, checking his back for any bruises. “He’s fine, just a few scratches.” he said loudly, so that the crowd of metkayina would disperse quickly. 

Neytiri hurried from behind the crowd, quickly checking to see that her son was alright. When she confirmed she wasn’t hurt, she quickly scolded him. 

“I pray for the strength that I will not rip the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” she hissed, making a grabbing motion at Lo’ak’s eye, to which Tsireya next to you winced. 

“No,” your father said, pushing Ao’nung down to kneel. “My son knows better than to take him outside of the reef. The blame is his.”

Jake nodded hesitantly, deciding he didn’t want to cause any more trouble with the Olo’eyktan. “Okay, let’s go.” 

“No.”

“It’s not Ao’nung’s fault,” Lo’ak shook his head, looking up at your father. Ao’nung’s head turned up at this, both you and him (and your mother) were bewildered at this. 

“It was my idea. Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it, really.”

Neteyam put a hand on Lo’ak’s arm, silently asking him with his eyes, What are you doing? He only gave his older brother a glance of the eye to respond.

Your mother and father exchanged looks. They always did this, communicating without even needing to speak to each other. Lo’ak was covering for their son, they knew it. But why, was the question.

Your father pulled up Ao’nung, turning to him. “Is this true?” he asked, disbelief laced between his words. 

Although you admired your parents for their ability to see through such lies, you were also disappointed they didn’t believe their own son could be responsible for one moment. Your eyes darted towards Neteyam who was walking away with his family, and you quickly excused yourself. 

As you approached, however, you heard his parents scolding him. “Where were you?” Neytiri asked. “Yeah, what happened to keep an eye on your brother?” Jake said in english, it seemed he noticed you were coming towards them, but he didn’t know you could understand their conversation. 

You gulped, knowing that Neteyam was with you when Lo’ak was led outside the reef. “Sorry sir.” Neteyam muttered. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell from his tone of voice that he was not happy.

Jake and Neytiri left him, Jake nodding to you before he left as some form of greeting. “Neteyam, how are you feeling?” you asked him softly.

He sighed, turning towards you. There was a glint of something you’d never seen before in his eyes, and you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. But as he narrowed them, it became clear.

He was glaring at you with utter distaste.

“I don’t feel like talking to you right now.” he said, his tone indicating that his anger was threatening to reach boiling, and you were the cause. 

Your heart dropped all the way to your stomach as he stalked away, leaving you wondering. 

What did I do?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | masterlist

Idk what to say except oh no angst 😨 this part is definitely shorter than the others and idk why, it just seemed that this was enough words to convey the message. i THINK that the next part is the finale, but we’ll just have to see. Also if you’ve been reading this series from the start, you’ll notice that all the chapters have undergone a design transformation cause I just thought it looked better <3

Taglist: @strawberryclouds22 @assistantquail @st4rrry @neteyamforlife @heaven1oo4 @spicycloudsalad @1ntefly @laylasbunbunny @fanboyluvr @xoxobabe @thecrazyswamp @amortencjja @lynbubble @jakesullyssluttt @gabithefanwriter @erenjaegerwifee @abbersreads

note: usernames in red are the ones i couldn't tag

[gemini-magic17]

Entanglement Chapter Two

"The Princess's name is Kit and she is a remarkable young woman Y/n", my mother said.

"Is that why you want me to marry her or is it to the benefit of Father and you", I said.

"This would be to the benefit of our kingdom and theirs. Your marriage to Kit Tanthalos will provide unity and prosperity. I know you have reservations about this but I felt the same way about your father when I found out I was going to marry him. Now look at us we are happy and I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else", she smiles.

"Well I am happy for you mother but you don't know that I will have the same thing as father and you or something even remotely close with Kit."

"How do you know if you don't give it a try Y/n? All I want is for you to be happy and loved. That's all I have ever wanted for you", my mother says sincerely.

"I know and I will try my best to do my duty," I smiled at her.

"Thank you for at least agreeing to try this. I'm so proud of you and the woman you have become. I will see you first thing in the morning, we leave at noon."

We wish each other good night and she makes her way to her rooms. Preparing for bed I still can't get that prophecy out of my head or better yet than dragons even existed. I mean hearing stories of them is one thing but knowing that they were real once upon a time is crazy. I just feel like there has to be more to this and need to find out what it all means.

Blowing out the candles and settling into bed sleep came easy to Y/n that night even though she was still plagued by the events that happened earlier that day.

** The Next Day

After loading everything aboard the ship we set sail to Tir Asleen. Seeing as it would be around five days before we get there I grabbed the books from the library that I had yesterday. Not having much to do and still worried about my betrothal I focused on the ancient text. Flipping through the book to see if I could find more about it there was nothing else written. Being frustrated I went up to the dock only to find my brother and father arguing over something trivial.

"What are you two fighting about now", I asked.

"Our dear father thinks it is a good idea for me not to challenge any of the people in Tir Aisleen when I am training", James says outraged.

"Father, why would you ask that of him? You know how he is with it comes to his training."

"As your father, it is my responsibility to make sure that you do not do something that will get you in trouble or someone else killed", my father exclaimed.

"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!? ARE YOU AFRAID I AM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE"?

"YES! Son, you train as if it is life or death and not training. I mean do you not remember what you did to your sister."

"That was an accident it was not intentional", I said to James defense.

"It does not matter you were seriously hurt that day and I will not risk the chance of your brother repeating history. From the time we are in Tir Asleen you will only train with those with Ser Easton or our guards. Do you understand"?

"Yes Father I understand completely", James said furiously.

Stomping away James made his way to the compartments and my father went to talk with the captain. I walk toward the front of the boat staring ahead at what seems to be like an endless vast of water. So many things racing through my mind I can't seem to think straight. Until I settled on whether or not the marriage to the princess and I would be at least somewhat pleasant. I would be leaving home and spending my life somewhere that would be completely new. Having no comforts of home, no family, and friends I would be alone. At the thought of this, a few stray tears fall from my eyes without me realizing. Hearing someone approaching I wipe my tears and turn around.

"Oh! Hello, Ser Easton how are you today"?

"I am well princess. I would ask how you are but it seems not to well as it looks like you have been crying", he says with concern in his voice.

"I am scared of what will become of this situation and me. What happens if Kit does not like me? After all, I can be a handful according to my mother."

"Might I remind you your mother did not say you were a handful she said that you are a fiery, intellectual, and courageous young woman. If Kit Tanthalos cannot see that then she is not someone who you need in your life."

"Well, it is not like I have a choice in the matter. I told my mother I would try though. I just hope that the relationship that Kit and I will have might be happy", I smiled with some optimism showing.

"I'm sure you two will have a happy union."

**Across the sea in Tir Asleen

Deep in the woods Jade and I were training and as usual, I was winning her. With the clash of my sword, I deflected her attack and knocked her on her back. With her on the ground, I climbed on top of her and we both began laughing.

"Aren't you tired of me knocking you on your ass Jade? It has got to be getting old at this point", I laugh.

"You never know I could just be letting you win to boost your ego", Jade says sarcastically and laughs.

"Yeah keep telling yourself that."

Looking into her eyes I slowly lean in and that is when my lips met hers.

It must have been a while since we first started to kiss because I started to feel like I couldn't breathe. I pull away to catch my breath and before I know it the words just came out.

"I love you", I said.

"I love you too Kit. Always have always will."

Once we had finished we made our way back to the castle. The whole time I couldn't stop smiling at her as well as what she had said to me. Making our way into the castle Airk came up to me.

"What do you want Airk", I said.

"I just thought you would like to know mom wants to see you", he said.

"Why? What does she want"?

"I don't know she didn't tell me. All I know is that she is in your bedroom and said it was of great importance."

"Oh great another thing for me to deal with", I groaned.

" Do you want me to come with you Kit", Jade asked.

"No, I'll be fine. Plus I get the feeling this has to do with something that is just between me and her. I see you later", giving her a smile and heading off.

Arriving at my door stop before going trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever she has to say. Opening the doors she is standing in the middle of the room with her arms folded.

"There you are Kit I have been looking for you all day. Then I figured you were probably off training somewhere", my mom said.

"Yes, I was. What is it you wanted to talk about."

"Alright, I will just cut to the point then. I have made a betrothal between you and Princess Y/n Ravaryn of Zemira", she said.

"WHAT!!!!"

[mamawasatesttube]

38 for the dialogue prompt… maybe with some bart and kon?

also prompted by an anon!

38. "I'm going to be sick."

There are upsides to getting sent to New Orleans to deal with a surprise villain attack, starring Metallo. Like the pecan pralines from this one shop near the French Quarter that Wally has never shut up about since Bart's known him. Or the cajun fries. Or the beignets.

There are also downsides. Like the heat and the humidity. Seriously, how does anyone live down here? Running interference, and then helping with cleanup, has never been sweatier. Why'd that asshole have to damage so many buildings, anyway?

At least Café du Monde is still intact. Rob promised he'd buy everyone beignets and coffee when everything's settled, and Bart's gonna hold him to that.

...Except that right now, he kinda doesn't want to eat. Probably 'cuz it's so hot out. But it is kinda weird to not be hungry after a big battle.

Oh well. Shit needs doing, so shit's gotta get done, and Bart's gonna be a shit-doer. He chugs some tepid water from the bottle at his hip, grimaces as nausea pulses through his stomach, and starts to run again.

Five minutes later, his legs give out.

It comes as a shock: one moment he's moving some debris to free a couple trapped cars in an alleyway, and the next, his leg cramps up so bad that for a second he swears he's just gotten shot again, and he goes crashing to the ground before he even realizes he's falling.

What the fuck?!

Sweaty, exhausted, nauseous, in pain, and miserable, Bart gives up. Something's wrong, but he can't figure out what. Someone else can handle that; he digs his thumbs into the meat of his calf and whines, "Kooooon..."

A whoosh of air and a red, blue, and black blur drop out of the sky almost instantly. Kon, damn his Kryptonian genes, isn't sweating at all; his cyan gaze pierces right through Bart as he drops to his knees next to him. "Imp! What's the matter?"

Bart groans, stomach churning. His leg still hurts like a bitch. "I think," he says, "I'm gonna be sick." He whines again.

Kon's eyes widen. He reaches for Bart's shoulders to help him sit up, then hisses. "Shit, dude, you're burning up! Have you had any water?"

Bart nods miserably. Now why the hell is he shivering? That seems wrong. Uuugghhh, he's so nauseous. "Jus' a minute ago. Made me feel more sick. I don't think water's supposed to do that. It's just so fucking hoooot..."

"Oh, man. Okay. I think you're overheating, buddy." Kon exhales slowly; the air he blows out over Bart's face is blessedly cool, and Bart almost topples over from his precarious sitting position just trying to lean further into it. "Yup, okay. Gotta get you somewhere cooler."

"But... the cleanup," Bart balks.

"Dude." Kon gives him a disappointed look—aw, beans, that's his disappointed Ma Kent look. Bart would squirm under his gaze, if he wasn't so close to puking. "It's, like, literally a hundred and ten degrees out, and super humid, and you've always run hot even without strenuous shit like a villain fight. Muscle cramps? Nausea? Feeling faint? Classic symptoms of heat exhaustion."

As he speaks, he gathers Bart up in his arms; Bart whines again, just to reiterate that this sucks balls, but then a tendril of TTK works its way along his cramping leg and presses in against his aching muscle just right, and he shuts up instantly. Fuuuck, that feels good.

"What are you?" he mumbles, a full second or two late. "WebMD? Why do you know all that off the top of your head?"

Kon snorts. He blows cool air against Bart's sticky forehead again, rising into the air in a smooth arc (Bart appreciates that, because neither of them would have a good time if he emptied his stomach all over them both mid-flight). "Imp, c'mon. They programmed field medicine into my head back in the tube, man."

"Oh." Bart huffs. "That makes sense." He lets his head loll against Kon's shoulder as Kon picks up speed; the Mississippi River sparkles in the sun far below. "Where're we going?"

"Back to base," Kon answers. The air up here is cooler; Bart sighs in relief. "You're gonna sit in a cool shower, and I'm getting you some Gatorade."

Kon's always so good at taking care of him, Bart thinks. His leg already feels way better. Of course, he can't just say that normally. "Okay, mom."

Kon scoffs. "Excuse me for being a good friend who worries about you!"

"You're excused," Bart assures him, closing his eyes.

For a few moments, the whistling of the wind is the only sound. Then Bart heaves a massive sigh.

"Hey, Kon?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"I still want beignets later. Can you make sure Rob remembers?"

Kon's rumble of laughter reverberates through his chest as the clouds pass them by. "Yeah, Imp," he promises. "I'll be sure to let him know."

[linkspooky]

Hi, I'm a huge fan of your analysis and writing in general! I'm curious as to what your update top 5 favorite characters of all time are.

1. TARA MARKOV / TERRA

The most that bitch of all time. Terra is that bitch. She does not want redemption. She does not want to make friends. She does not want to be saved. She refuses to be what anyone else wants her to be and she refuses to fit any easy narrative for her.

Terra was not my favorite in the cartoon, which is a testament to how good the New Teen Titans comic is that it made her shoot to the top of the list. Terra is the ultimate bad victimTM. She is just as ugly as the abuse that happened to her. It's almost painful to look at the full picture of her, because no matter what she does and how malicious and cruel she is, she still remains undeniably a victim who's not free in any sense of the word.

Terra is not really a person, she's just a ball of negative emotions. She's volatile and always reacting to the people around her. She's basically a minefield inviting you to step on her and blow your legs off. Terra doesn't really have a sense of self but she's not really in a situation where she could mature or develop in any healthy kind of way. She's a runaway and an unstable mercenary selling herself for money. Pretty much anyone would develop into a sociopath to survive in her kind of situation.

There's a panel in New Teen Titans where Terra is telling Starfire and Donna some version of her backstory that's a bit fudged to throw off suspicion from the fact she's spying on them, and Kory and Donna are both like "Well, everyone on the Titans has a traumatic backstory Terra you're not special." And that's what made Terra's character great to me. She's been through the kind of things the rest of the Titans has, and that doesn't magically make her a good person or a hero. She snaps because she's like sixteen and terrible things have happened to her so she becomes terrible. Terra reflects a terrible reality that happens to a lot more teenagers in America, but even teenagers who act like Terra are still deserving of salvation.

2. KUMAGAWA MISOGI

The most loser of all time. Kumagawa is amazing because he turns so many shonen tropes on his head. He doesn't want to get better. He doesn't want to get stronger. He's going to remain the same loser forever, and yet there's something admirable about his character.

The best fictional characters struggle. Kumagawa's life is nothing about struggle. He gives everything he has just treading water and he doesn't succeed. Not only does Kumagawa struggle he has empathy for everyone that's struggling. He's incredibly emotionally unstable but not because he's cold or cruel but because he has so much empathy for the people around him. He cant help but feel and empathize no matter who it is. I am a fan of bad victims and so is Kumagawa.

He builds his entire life philosophy around sympathizing with people who aren't pretty, or righteous, or strong, or brave. He sympathizes with the people who try their hardest and make no progress at all. Kumagawa's philosophy is empower in its own way. Even a person who's absolutely mediocre matters as long as they're trying. Even a miserable life is one you can still smile and struggle to be happy in.

3. SPIKE

The most character development of all time. Spike is such an interesting character because they could have just left him a villain because he was interesting enough as one. Instead, we got him dragged kicking and screaming through a redemption arc.

What makes Spike a good character is that he never gets away with anything. A lot of characters, especially main characters will have flaws that the plot either sands down or ignores to try to make them more appealing and likable. Spike starts out a monster, the other characters know that he's bad, and when he does something wrong he immediately gets his teeth kicked in as punishment. The other people don't forgive him, and there are always consequences.

What makes Spike a great character is that he learns from those consequences. Eventually he reaches a point where he can't continue on the way he has before, and he actually learns to be a better person because the only way to keep living is to keep changing.

4. BUFFY SUMMERS

The most main character of all time. Buffy Summers is what happens when a plot actually tries to challenge it's main character instead of making the world center around them. Buffy believes she's the protagonist of reality, and she's sort of right but that mindset makes her suffer.

Buffy is EXACTLY like all the other girls. She just wants to shop, and watch TV, and talk about boys, but she's randomly been given super powers that she doesn't want. The seven season journey from Buffy acting like a normal hyperactive teenager, to by season seven being a very emotionally remote and distant girl with sky high walls built around her is such fantastic character work.

BTVS is a rare show where the main character is one of the most interesting characters, because the whole show is about the complex way she processes her trauma in response to the nonstop series of disasters that is her life. Buffy has pretty serious flaws, and those flaws get worse because she always has to be a hero which causes her to have a major self-righteous streak. Buffy's such a great character that she makes all the characters around her more interesting because of how well connected with the story. Especially with the way she parallels her jungian shadow, Spike.

5. ENOSHIMA JUNKO

The most Junko of all time. Junko is a character that could get by on sheer force of personality alone. She is extremely entertaining, her dialogue is always an insane riot, she dominates any scene she's in and she's an insanely competent evil mastermind who gets credit alone for being one of the few characters who actually succeeds in her plan to destroy the world.

Junko always wins and that's the problem. Junko is the best-written example of a villain whose motivation is "I did this because I'm bored." Because for Junko, boredom is a soul-crushing apathy that derives her life from any kind of joy or feeling other than numbness. Junko was written to be a one-dimmensional villain with no trace of goodness inside of her. Kodaka could have gotten away with not making her any more of that because she's so effective as a villain.

However, she has more character depth beyond that. If you read her prequel story in "Danganronpa ZERO" you find Junko is the way she is, because it's impossible for her to live a normal life. She doesn't feel like a human being and she feels incapable of connecting with the world or the people around her so she tries to make herself a calamity, a force of nature, despair itself.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

anyway I adore Kingsley so have a character study I guess <3

Kingsley bounds to the front of the ship, looking out at the water with childlike glee. Childlike is right, he’s technically not even three months old. Sometimes he feels older, sometimes he really does feel like the child the others seem to think he is.

Everything is still so fascinating and new but also familiar. The ship isn’t familiar, neither is the water, but the people are. Jester and Fjord. It feels as though he should know them but he doesn’t.

Every so often he gets a flash of a memory, Jester smiling up at him, whispering to him in Infernal. Or Fjord bisecting some kind of creature with a sword.

He doesn’t tell them as much, doesn’t want them to get their hopes up that whoever inhabited this body before him is returning. He’s not that person anymore, either of them, and it’s taking them all some adjusting.

Kingsley takes a big breath of salty air as the wind blows his coat back, certain with every bone in his body, that he's never done this before.

They tell him he used to read fortunes. And apparently they’re right. His hands know the worn deck of tarot cards Jester hands him. He knows how to get the card he wants to the top and how to trick his customer into thinking he’s genuine. Kingsley hates it. It’s not him. It’s something else, someone else in his head bleeding through.

So he gives the tarot cards back to Jester. The next time they make port he purchases a worn book on palm reading. He reads through it in one night, burning a candle down to the stand. And the next day he spends hours just staring at his palm. 

His life line is frayed, splitting off into three lines. He traces a nail through them, wondering which one is his. Wondering if it even matters.

His heartline is the deepest one. It means you love deeply and completely, the book had said. And that’s the one he’s become fixated on. How can his hand know more about him than he does? It doesn’t make any sense and yet at the same time it makes the most sense of it all. This hasn’t always been his body. Maybe the line was meant for someone else. Lucien? Mollymauk? 

Sometimes when he lies in his hammock below decks, he’ll trace that line over and over again, hoping beyond anything that it belongs to him.

The nightmares are the worst part. More often than not in the early months, he wakes up screaming names he barely knows, looking at faces he doesn’t remember. He dreams of a city made of roiling flesh. He dreams of a snowy road and a sharp blade. He dreams of a figure in red staring down at him. He dreams of dirt and ash and books and eyes. So many eyes. 

Nothing but fucking eyes.

Jester is always there to comfort him. She’s good at that. She’ll hold him in her arms, let him cry and babble on and on about his dreams, switching mindlessly between Common and Infernal. She doesn’t judge. She doesn’t tell anyone.

She’ll braid his hair and sing a song her mother wrote her. Kingsley doesn’t know his mother. He doubts he ever will. And it eats at him far more than he would ever let on. Jester never sees his thumb digging into his life line almost hard enough to cut the skin.

Unlike the others, Caduceus has no expectations of him. He is a welcome friend, despite their many differences. It's Caduceus that Kingsley talks to when he can no longer stand the thought of staring at his palm, wondering what it all means.

Caduceus takes his hand, gentle as ever, and turns his hand over so Kingsley can no longer see the lines. He taps his thumb against the scar on the back of Kingsley's hand, asks him how he got it.

Kingsley is prepared to say he doesn't know, that it's a relic from Molly or Lucien. But then he takes a better look at it and smiles, telling Caduceus that it's from when Fjord tried to teach him to cook and a huge wave rocked the ship making him cut himself.

And in that instant, Kingsley understands the point Caduceus is trying to make. It doesn't matter who came before him, it doesn't matter which lines are his, because at the end of the day it's his body now. Every day he's figuring out who he is, he's adopting mannerisms, he's learning. And he's growing.

And that has to be enough.

[tsslp]

”You’re the problem.”

His ears rang and CJ stood there in shock, physically taking a step back, his stomach dropping. He swallowed hard, closes his eyes and opening them to see Lee still standing there. Still standing there with his fists clenched and his mouth set into a firm line. He looked.. so angry. So disappointed and frustrated. So many negative emotions rolled into one, and they were all directed right at CJ.

“Right. Yeah no, sorry. I am, aren’t I.”

CJ couldn’t even look at Lee as he felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes, and he looked away, chewing on his lip. He was desperately trying to hold back his tears, not wanting to seem pathetic or anything. But even so, his emotions were so enhanced right now, after being numbed and repressed after weeks of silent fighting with Lee, and stress of graduating and such. Everything was crashing down in this one moment and CJ was spiralling. Hard.

”Yeah, you kinda are the problem. You literally haven’t even contacted me in days and appear like you expect everything to be fine. It’s just- It’s kinda frustrating.”

Lee sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. CJ couldn’t help but stifle a sob as he slid down the wall he was leaning against, staring at the ground. His heart tore a little and it felt like his entire body was numb at Lee’s words. They were harsh, and cold but.. it was true. He’d let Lee blow up his phone for three days while he stayed with someone else for the long weekend, without even telling his boyfriend. Lee was right. He was the problem in their relationship.

CJ couldn’t help but bury his head in his hands, unable to stop the flow of tears. A hard lump appeared in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut, wiping them with his sleeve, causing it to get pushed up to about halfway up his forearm. CJ didn’t notice, instead he just took a shuddering breath, fidgeting on the floor. He heard a hitch in Lee’s breathing but he didn’t look up from his hands, unable to meet his boyfriends eye.

Lee didn’t say a word as he sat down next to CJ, leaning his head on the taller boys shoulder. CJ felt Lee take one of his arms, the one which the sleeve had been pushed up and CJ almost immediately gasped and snatched his arm away from his boyfriend. In Lee’s hands was CJ’s left arm. CJ’s left arm which happened to be decorated with scars, new and old, up and down his arms like a damn barcode. It had been the bain of his existence for a long, long time and he hadn’t even let Lee see it before. CJ closed his eyes in defeat, waiting for a reprimanding, or Lee scolding him on how he was so selfish. Just waiting for any kind of negative comment.

But before he could stammer out an explanation, or even move, he felt Lee press his lips to one of the scars near the top of his wrist, kissing it gently. He did this, over and over, until he had made his way to the end of the trail of pale, scarred skin and CJ opened his eyes to see Lee looking at him, sincerely. CJ didn’t know what Lee was thinking about, but he did know that in this moment he loved Lee so so much. He didn’t want to lose this boy. Not ever. But there was still the matter of the fight at hand.

“Are you going to break up with me?”

CJ said in the quietest voice, feeling like he just killed the silence of the room. But it needed to be asked. CJ felt his eyes watering again and this time, he let the tears slip down his cheeks. Lee’s eyes widened just a fraction and he wiped the tears from CJ’s cheeks and he then kissed CJ on the lips, soft and gentle, just like the kisses on his arms before pulling away.

“Does that answer your question?”

The word “yes” danced on his tongue but CJ just nodded. Lee opened his arms and CJ hugged him, his boyfriend, in a hug that signified that it was not the end of their relationship. Instead, it was more like another chapter.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝.

[todayisafridaynight]

NO LISTEN. LISTEN. I CONCEALED THE TITLE ON PURPOSE BECAUSE... IDK what it is but I have a tendency to like things that would be hard to watch for one reason or another for MOST of the runtime but then by the end it's like Oh So This Was GOOD Actually? Oh So My Brain Is Rewired?

And then it just becomes IMPOSSIBLE to recommend because I have no idea if The Majority Of It would actually be worth the conclusion to anyone but me😭😭😭SP is along those lines, sort of, but I've at least seen success with that... but this is also the case for my favorite Tsutsumi movie of all time, actually... alas...

Nevertheless. The show is called After the Rain! I think it was originally a manga and it has a live-action adaptation too [criminal not to actually cast Tsutsumi in either In My Opinion but FINE I GUESS]. It's about a former track star in high school, Akira Tachibana, who works part-time at a restaurant and has the MOST EMBARRASSING crush on her manager, Masami Kondo, the character I showed you before, who is Tsutsumi But As A Middle-Aged Divorcee With A Son. They befriend each other and help each other come to grips with the future and the past, respectively.

I was afraid of the obvious because a lot of media that tries to do this ends up making it fucking weird... like, this sort of dynamic means a lot to me for personal reasons and I've been burned too many times by characters I'd come to love and trust... but naw... my man Kondo is Normal About It that's all that matters to me... I had to breathe SUCH a sigh of relief...

I really don't like that the camera is sometimes not normal about Akira, though, it undermines the actual themes of the show a bit. IDK, I'm hypersensitive, I expect it's nothing super egregious compared to a lot of other media, but it's just disappointing because SOMETIMES there's artistic merit in terms of representing what Akira's feeling and other times it's just totally unnecessary and introduces a tonal clash... SPEAKING OF THERE IS A GUY WHO IS NOT NORMAL ABOUT AKIRA AND THE ENTIRE PLOT THREAD IS BASICALLY JUST DROPPED BECAUSE HE'S HARDLY EVEN IN THE SHOW AFTER THAT... I WANTED CONSEQUENCES...

But if nothing else, that's not even exactly why I said it's a hard watch, the actual reason is the NUCLEAR levels of secondhand embarrassment for like two thirds of the show. Like GIRL he is NOT INTO YOU AND HE SHOULDN'T BE... GET A GRIP OH MY GODDDDDDDD................. but like, I was That Girl when I was her age, right, so the fact it had me imploding thinking back on everything is a testament to its accuracy overall. Probably.

And NGL that type of dynamic is basically how I conceptualize RGGJo and Arakawa when they first met... Jo and Akira may be cringe-ass teens but I got a soft spot for it I do... it can be FUNNY... it can be WHOLESOME...

All of that being said, the last third or so might as well be a different show, and it kind of blows the rest out of the water for me. Maybe because it focuses on Kondo and Akira separately? But it's free of literally anything I could possibly complain about. I ain't mad about the first two thirds, it does set up a lot of what made the last third so enjoyable... buuut...

ANYWAY that's ENOUGH OF THAT I am CUTTING MYSELF OFF THERE I've gone on for WAY TOO LONG ABOUT SHIT NOBODY ASKED ABOUT☠️Not like you can say anything to All That I just don't have anybody to talk to about it☠️and despite the fact I'm still not REALLY Recommending It and don't think it sounds appealing from my description, I feel like I probably shouldn't talk about the endgame stuff I'm obsessed with so☠️☠️☠️Anyway. If NOTHING Else. Funny as hell to have Tsutsumi as the basis for The Perfect Middle-Aged Man... SOOO true...

YAYA the DQXI demo goes like, up to just after you get the? Twins? in your party. And you can keep playing the game without progressing the story + continue your save in the full game so technically speaking I COULD grind until I'm overpowered... but I shan't... I'm not positive when I'm getting it since I still wanna play the series in order... For Ichiban... [<- see this is RGG-related now]

It is SO sick to actually get to play though, that's awesome! Toriyama's worked on some bangers what can I say... My first DQ was one of the DS remakes, probably DQV, but the only DQ game I've ever actually finished was the Rocket Slime spinoff. Very Fun By The Way genuinely one of my favorite DS titles... but THAT'S NEITHER HERE NOR THERE... regardless... Arachtagon is not in the demo but I can believe he's a bitch to fight given one of the top results is this ☠️

So I'm glad you're past it and are having fun with the game :] I loved your comic SOOO SO SO much so having that bit of background on makes it all the more enjoyable! I had my own comic about RGGJo losing his mind "babysitting" Ichi and watching him grind for hours on end which was also lowkey about my experience with DQI... lol... lmao even...

I'M SORRYYYYYY THOUGH I TOLD YOU SP WAS SLOW TO START FOR A REASON 😭😭😭😭It took me a while to notice but title sequences are always something like Episode III Part I so they're almost all multi-ep arcs... threw me for a loop... Okay that's enough from me Jesus fucking Christ I am SORRY for going on this long but just I have to say:

inoue's chara is so funny like He's Super Human um doc… i think he's just autistic lowkey….. he still a baller regardless tho

REAL AND TRUE AND REAL AND TRUE AND REAL AND

and i've already added it to the To-Watch list :) NO BUT REAL I UNDERSTAND HOW YOU FEEL- in trying to sell something but having to be like Here Me Out I Swear on it BUT I BELIEVE YOU THAT ITS GOOD. i know i can trust your word on something and i def appreciate the preemptive notes given before watching. im sure i'll enjoy it in the end: it looks cute and im glad it sounds like it's doing something better with a Touchy trope ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ biggest RIP to no tsutsumi in the live action but... cant be helped.....

NO BUT IT'S SO FUNNY CAUSE FOR MY COMIC I WANTED TO SEE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE'S 'HARDEST BOSSES' WERE AND I FELT SO SEEN IN SEEING ARACHTAGON AS AN OPTION..... funnily enough tho when i redid the fight it wasnt nearly as nightmarish as it was when i first did it but Again i think i was just better prepared... (also during my first attempt i had Literally the most fuck ass luck where my team kept getting stunned and dying but rab kept bringing them back to life and i Just Couldnt Die or even move so... Horrible First Experience Ruined A Game For Seven Months For Me ( ￣▽￣ ;;;;)). the first instance of DQ i remember seeing was DQIX and being liek 'hey they looks familiar :)' and ive just been watchin it since 🤭 ROCKET SLIME IS SO CUTE THOUGH if you had to finish ANY of the games im glad it was that one... i wish i got to play the series in order since I Like Doing That but im annoying about wanting to play things on The Official Console...

AH BUT IVE ALWAYS LIKED THE IDEA OF JO WATCHING ICHI PLAY A GAME i mentioned i had an abandoned comic about it but its still such a silly and cute idea.. id very much like to do something with it someday if not see others have fun with it cause i think they should have them silly family moments too..

NO IT'S OK I JUST FOUND IT FUNNY AN ARC WAS LIKE. 3-4 EPS WHEN AT MOST THEY'RE LIKE TWO i'm just about rapping up the ohashi arc and its SOOOOO good... i also love how the drama has a pretty diverse soundtrack that i notice a lot of other jdramas lack so thats DEF been a bonus plus all of the choreography (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) and real. inoue Is Just Neurodivergent that got solidified within me after seeing him mess around with that riddle book ☠️

[little-engineer-who-cant]

Strange pairs in odd junctions create beautiful things. This work briefly overlaps with Orpheus, Don't Turn Around (i know you will, you always do)

Part 6 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(Chapter 1 under cut)

Chapter 1: Heartbeats in the Shape of Stab Wounds

Summary: Tick, tick, tick-

“People say hate is a wasted emotion, a destructive force you can do nothing useful with. They’re wrong. I’ve gripped rage, I’ve wielded it like a weapon.”

- The Corset (Laura Purcell)

“How’s the eye?” Clarisse asks, leaning back on two chair legs. As if it isn’t incredibly obvious. 

“Blind,” Silena replies bluntly from where she’s reorganizing her medical supplies, making the other girl splutter into the glass of water she took an ill-advised drink from. “Put all four legs on the floor, Clair, before you eat it. Or worse, break something else.”

“Gods-” she gasps, but obeys. “What the fuck?”

“No point in beating around the bush.” Never had been, not since she woke up with warped vision and a gut wrenching certainty. Not since she had to spend six months retraining herself how to pick up a fork without missing.

“Fair enough I guess but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be that blunt about it.” 

“Dancing around doesn’t change the truth.” She’s had to relearn how to survive, compensating for a picture that isn’t complete anymore.

“You’ve changed.”

“What’s with that tone?”

“I can’t tell…” Clarisse says slowly, scrutinizing, “if it’s for the better.”

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t have to live with me. I do. So how you categorize my change doesn’t matter. Only mine does.” Silence ticks by in the beats of their hearts, eyes never wavering from one another. Sizing each other up, identifying weak points and escape routes. Old habits never really die, do they?

“What are you doing, Silena?” Clarisse murmurs eventually, standing up and setting the water aside.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are you doing in Gotham? This isn’t a game.”

“Neither was the Titan War.” If Clarisse thinks she can intimidate her into cowering, standing down, or backing off, she’s in for a rude awakening. 

“Yeah, no shit. But Gotham?”

“Where else could I go where everyone would leave me the fuck alone?”

“The wilderness?” Clarisse gestures wildly, to everything and nothing. “Literally anywhere but here?”

“Too many monsters, everywhere but here,” Silena snarks, sticking a new bottle of saline into the closet next to a suturing kit.

“The fucking Joker is here.”

“The Joker isn’t looking for a pound of demigod flesh to make his next meal. He’s not an issue.” Especially if Jason has his way, he’ll be in the grave soon enough.

“Maybe not, but Black Mask is definitely trying to hunt the vigilante that you’re fucking. Red Hood? Really?”

“Clarisse.”

“Silena.” Clarisse’s shoulders slump and she blows a frustrated breath out of her nose. “Seriously, you are playing with fire.”

“Believe it or not, I am aware of that.”

“So why aren’t you stopping? Keeping him close is a death sentence.” The implication from the mouth of a person who doesn't know him makes her vision go red. She’s not sure if the bile and asphalt she’s swallowing is her own anger or Clarisse’s jealousy.

“Because I love him.” Definitely from Clarisse, the taste of pitch intensifies at the admission. It’s the brutal truth, in all its ugly beauty. She loves Jason and as long as he keeps coming back to her, to the sanctuary she’s made here in the pits of Hell, she’ll welcome him home. Come what may. 

“Right.” Clarisse looks away, chewing her lip. It’s a gooey taste, that jealousy. Silena hates the texture more than the flavor. “That.” 

“Yeah.” Silena puts more bandages into, clicking her tongue reflexively, like that will dissipate the unpleasant taste of tar. It lingers at the back of her tongue all the same, because she cannot rid herself of something that is not hers. She places another bandage in the plastic bin, frowning as she notices the visible dent this whole… event has made in her supplies. Should I go back out? Should I risk-

A thud against the brick makes them both jump, Clarisse at the ready and in front of Silena in a second flat, despite her hissed breathing. 

It takes another breath for her to relax and snort in annoyance.

“Your boy is here.” More tar. 

“Stop.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Clarisse scoffs.

“Yes, you are.” Her fists clench around a box of Band-Aids, crushing the cardboard. “Stop it.”

“What do I need to stop?”

“ Feeling ,” Silena hissed, screwing her eyes shut and the cardboard tears right alongside her patience. “I can taste how much you hate him, Clarisse, and I swear on the-” she cuts herself off before she finishes that destructive thought.

“I-” Clarisse touches the back of Silena’s neck, a fleeting thing. “I don’t know how to stop.” 

The thud sounds again. Silena pushes out of the closet and shoves past the once-immovable statue of the daughter of Ares. It takes a well placed poke that makes Clarisse bend away with a gasp, but Silena manages. A dick move, a low blow, a thousand other awful things, but gods damn it all-

“Figure it out or get out. I’m not going to live like that in my own damn house.” Anger propels her from Clarisse’s side, but by the time she reaches the window where Jason is sitting, she’s tired. Tired enough to ignore the smoke, the ash, the dirt painted over him in a thin layer. Whatever he did tonight didn’t go well.

Leading him inside is the easiest thing in the world. Everything and everyone else keeps telling her to be careful, to watch her step, everyone but him. He looks at her with haunted eyes that can’t believe she’s real and he lets her take his weight without question as she guides him to wash his deeds away. Allows her to scrub away the blood from his scrapes and sit in pensive silence.

Lets her care for him, love him, even if he can’t say it, or you’ll get killed.

Well, even if she does die, at least she can say she lived first. At least she’s doing what she wants, and not playing someone else’s game.

“I love you,” she tells a man who can and should kill her but constantly stays his hand. “I love you.” Because he needs to hear it and she needs to say it because even when she’s swallowing awful things, there is something there that tastes like the purest flame, cleansing everything and it’s overwhelming as his tears wet her skin. 

When she kisses his hands, all she tastes is love.

—

“I have to check,” he argues in the light of day, all their confessions left behind in the dead of night. “He fucking got away! Someone has to hunt him down and it sure fucking won’t be Bruce!” 

“Does it have to be you?” she shouts back. “Does it have to be now? You were caught in an explosion less than twelve hours ago, Jason!”

“Yes, it does, because no one else will do it! They’ll just put him back in Arkham and this damn cycle will keep going-”

“You are hurt and you want to go back out there?” she demands. “You can’t even wait a single day?”

“I waited long enough,” he shoots back. “I should have followed him, instead of coming here at all-”

“And done what? Collapsed in a ditch until Black Mask found you? Found him and then succumbed to injury? Found him and he had company? Tell me, what should you have done, Jason?”

“I could have ended this! You wouldn’t be in danger if I hadn’t come here and now you’re trying to stop me from-”

“From fixing a hypothetical problem?” she cuts him off. 

“It’s not hypothetical when it’s your life on the line!” he snarls back, stepping closer and towering over her but she didn’t give in to Clarisse, she’s not going to give in to him either. Not if it keeps him alive, which he seems intent on not being . 

“Are you that determined to get yourself killed to prove a point?” Silence meets her yell, Jason blinking at her like he’s never had anyone question his sometimes wild risks, his insane decisions, his impulsive fuck it we ball mentality. Like hell that’s gonna fly now. Most of the time, he’s very particular. 

But now is not most. 

Now, he’s running out like a deranged and half feral racoon intent on war crimes. He has been since the night she came clean.

“Jason,” her voice breaks. “Please, please at least wait. You’re hurt.” 

“I can’t,” he whispers, face set and determined, the scar slicing up the side of his head crossing perfectly with a shadow from the window that makes it look like the slash is a hollow void across his face. She’s looking into his mind, tasting his love and his hate and his violence and she’s going to puke- “I’ve waited too long.”

“Is your pride worth your life?”

“It’s not my life I care about-”

“That’s the problem !” and she’s screaming again, unable to stop the tears, I finally get something good and now the gods want to rip it away. Cruel enough to frame it as his own choice, nothing more than a machination of the Fates- “I care about your life, Jason! I care about your life! Please, please , don’t do this-”

“Do you care about my life because it’s mine or because you’ve killed someone in my place before?” 

It’s dead silent, in her head and her home. Jason’s eyes widen and she thinks she tastes the static shock of panic, but really, she can’t taste much of anything. Death maybe, because the dead can’t taste at all so that’s what death has to taste like. Nothing. Like Charlie’s body. Gone. Ash. 

The ringing in her ears doesn’t stop the tidal wave of betrayal . She’d bared her heart to him and this was how he used it? Turned around to plant a knife right into her gut and tear downwards, sentencing her to long and painful demise? Her heart on a platter and he’d thrown the whole thing out a window by even daring to suggest-

All because she wanted him safe. Because she wanted him alive and not dead in an alley with a Glasgow smile carved into his cheeks alongside that horrid little J, undeniable brands of a monster. But he won’t listen to her-

Oh, a long forgotten little whisper beckons her, warm, welcoming, an old friend, but he will. Open your mouth, and he will.

Inhaling, she lets the sweet warmth fill her mouth, pressing against the seal of her lips as she stares him down as his mouth opens and closes in slow motion. One little word. If she says no…

You can stop him. One little breath, a small slit in her lips, and he won’t go. It’d be so easy , just one word.

His eyes are glazed already, a riot of emotions crossing his face at lightning speed. One word, and all that would fade, go lax, return to the calm of I’m right, just listen to me and it will be okay and he’d stay here, with her-

“Anna-” It’s a bucket of ice water. Anna, spoken in a hoarse voice that sounded so ruined. Anna, who isn’t a person, who hasn’t betrayed him time and time again. Anna, who smiled and spun him around and loved him and laughed and cried, Anna, Anna, Anna-

I’m not Anna.

Anna would never consider this. The play is over she’d told him, the curtain closed and the encore of tears had died down. But, to him, she had always been Anna, not whatever hateful thing is clawing in her chest now, that cloying whisper she recognizes and has given into so many times before.

Her lips stay shut.

She can be Anna one more time. She can ignore that voice, she can let him keep his mind. She can play pretend, one more time.

Even if it costs his life.

Whirling around before she can reconsider, she retreats to her last bastion of safety, the only surefire way no one can follow her. Running to her bedroom, she slams the door, ensuring he won’t follow and neither will Clarisse.

Pressing her ear to the door, she listens to them argue. She listens to them leave. Peeling away from the wood, she shakes out her hair, walks over to her vanity and glares at her reflection before taking a deep breath and grabbing her makeup bag. There’s a few outfits she’s been saving for a special occasion, and this certainly applies.

Gotham is Red Hood’s playground, but Silena Beauregard is a spy. She’s one of the masses, a smiling face who too many people like. Pretty enough to turn heads, non-threatening enough to fade from memory. In the right clothes, walking the right street, talking to the right people, she’ll learn more than any torturer. It’s a skill she perfected years ago and a good spy never lets their skills die.

A good spy always has an eye peeled for good places to find information and Silena’s web spreads farther than anyone else knows, hidden along cracks in Gotham’s concrete and growing taller alongside the weeds. Years of keeping herself alive here have taught her where to look.

Recapping her lipstick, Silena rolls her neck with a pop and bares her teeth. A wolf amongst sheep, a smiling face amongst an unsuspecting crowd. 

She can’t stop Jason from hunting down the Joker.

But she can get to him first.

[walkedlegacy-closed]

what is their favorite exhibit at an aquarium?

what does their breakfast look like?

what gaming console was the first one they ever played?

is there a small habit that they do every day?

what color was their childhood bedroom?

what is their favorite wine / liquor?

what's their guilty pleasure tv show?

ANSWERED ASK : ( timeguardians )

okay , thiis is gonna be a long post , because i can never seem to answer these simply , but i wanted to get this one out so i didn't have two of these sitting in my asks. okay . . . got your note taking tools out?? good! lets roll!

HEADCANON QUESTIONS.

WHAT IS THEIR FAVORITE EXHIBIT AT AN AQUARIUM?

oooooo a good one to start off with. anya really liked the aquarium and all the sea creatures since she was a kid. well , aquarium , zoo , it didn't matter. if she was looking at animals she was always a happy girl. she loves everything about the aquarium if i'm being honest , and her favorites have changed over the years. when she was a little girl , she loved visiting the areas where they had the big massive schools of fish. she'd marvel at the shimmering of the scales and all the pretty colors , while her parents explained how they use teamwork to survive. when she got older , her favorite became the shark exhibit. she really enjoys sharks and learning about them and even wants to swim with one someday. ( despite the many ways she knows it would go wrong ) and after she has kids , she finds a special love for the touching pool , she loves taking the kids to the aquarium and watching them learn about the world around them.

WHAT DOES THEIR BREAKFAST LOOK LIKE?

coffee is always part of it , no exceptions ( except when she was pregnant. it was a nightmare ) and a glass of orange juice as well for a drink. her job is everything to her , and she makes sure she has the diet to support it. whole wheat toast with avocado spread on it , with usually what is a scramble made up of eggs , green peppers , mushrooms and onions. she keeps a nutrition guide the fire department released so she has a grocery list she can refer to , but she's had this diet since her parents would allow her to even have a diet. she switches it up sometimes with a yogurt and granola option if she knows bobby is going to have breakfast for the house , in which case it's whatever bobby makes , and on the way out she has a smoothie with her she makes every morning consisting of spinach , mixed berries , some sort of whey protein , avocado oil , and water.

WHAT GAMING CONSOLE WAS THE FIRST ONE THEY EVER PLAYED?

the barnes household was always mostly a playstation household , and was the first console anya ever played with her brother , and it was taking turns playing spyro. they fell in love but anya didn't really latch onto video games right away , being a little too wiggly for them. she eventually found an appreciation for them , and even plays them now to blow off steam , and is pretty good at it. ( her and jamie like to game to blow off steam together after long shifts or when they can't sleep. )

IS THERE A SMALL HABIT THEY DO EVERYDAY?

every morning when she wakes up she sends a text to her partner to say good morning before she does anything else. she checks the family chat. due to the fact that her grandparents are so old , the family has a chat for in case anything needs to be done by the younger members of the family. ( the organization in that family only exists because otherwise there would be chaos. ) and she won't start the day until she's gotten back from her morning run. she only ever misses her run when she's injured in various points of the timeline. as part of her romanian heritage , when she became a firefighter , her grandmother gave her a horseshoe keychain to put on her key ring. in the romanian culture , horseshoes mean wealth and prosperity. so as she walks into the firehouse for her shift , she makes sure to give that keychain a good rub. ( yes . . . she is superstitious. )

WHAT COLOR WAS THEIR CHILDHOOD BEDROOM?

ORANGE! her room was always a very gender neutral room , and as a baby anya was a very happy child. she liked colors like yellow and orange. things that looked like the sun. she changed her color scheme a bit as she grew older.

WHAT IS THEIR FAVORITE WINE/LIQUOR?

she's a vodka girl. given that she's russian and romanian , that isn't too much of a surprise. she'll take it usually in a vodka cranberry , unless she's having a stressful day , in which case she'll take it in shot form. there is always a bottle of stolichnaya ( or stolis coming from her or her family ) and just about every house in her family has it as well ( her grandfather is a big fan of the stuff. ) for wine , she's not too picky , but she does like a nice red if you're trying to impress , ability to pair wine with food though is more impressive to her than having her favorite. ( she's had red wine with fish , while its her favorite . . . not good. )

WHAT IS THEIR GUILTY PLEASURE TV SHOW?

brooklyn 99 is her guilt pleasure show , though she really doesn't have a show she's guilty about watching. if she's had some to drink though , she likes screaming at real housewives of la ( if it's not a thing it is in this verse ) and when jamie is over they turn on cops and get drunk while watching.

[wxndxsdvycvncxrivn]

2:50 AM • 1/29

Maybe it really could be that easy.

I could just say fuck it all.

I could call you and tell you I’m coming over right now and kiss you the moment you open the door. We could have the best make up sex until the sun came up and forget everything else in the world exists except you and I. We could spend the day in bed together, we could watch Saltburn, we could watch Superstore, we could watch Derry Girls. We could go to dinner and I could feed you dessert. We could go to multiple Four Seasons and so many concerts together. I could baby you the way I want to, tell you how pretty you are, bring you home a new Squishmallow everyday, wrap my arms around you and tell you that you’re safe with me. The anger would be gone. The arguing would be gone. The sadness would be gone. I would have you to myself. I could hold your hand whenever I wanted, I could kiss you whenever I wanted, I could have my hand around your waist out in public, I could open your doors for every car, every building, I could hug you from behind and inhale the sweet smell of your perfume, I could have my hand on your thigh while driving you anywhere you wanted to go. I would do anything for you. I would take you anywhere you wanted to go. I would never deny you anything, no matter the distance or the cost, because neither of those matter as much as seeing you happy does. You would get any and everything you wanted in this life and more because if it’s humanly possible, I would make it happen for you with no hesitation. You wouldn’t have to ask. I would take care of you in ways you’ve never in your life experienced. I could come to Fort Myers with you and visit your family then spend mornings on the beach with you. We could get smoothies with our favorite fruits and drive home with the windows down listening to country music. I would watch the wind blow in your hair with your heart shaped sunglasses on. I would light us a cigarette and watch how perfectly it looked in between your lips and kiss you before you you put it in between mine while I drove. We could shower together and I’d sacrifice my cold water to keep you warm. I’d grab your face and make out with you while the bathroom fills with steam and you’re pushed against the wall with no more thoughts. I would wash your hair and your body for you and wrap you in a towel then let you pick which ever teeshirt of mine you wanted to sleep in. I would make you noodles with eggs then massage your legs while you ate. I would kiss the inside of your thighs and lay on your stomach while you play with my hair. I would take you to bed and smother your entire body in kisses and listen to your giggles when you get shy. I would look into your bright green eyes and tell you how lucky I am. We could do this every night. We could sleep with nothing on in the spring and matching pajamas in the winter until it turns into sleeping naked just to feel your body against mine. I would keep you warm. For Halloween we could do a couples costume and I would build an entire village of gingerbread houses with you around Christmas, no matter how frustrated I got. We could get sushi every New Year’s Eve and make it our tradition and kiss you from 11:59 to 12:01 because midnight wouldn’t be enough. And somehow, that’s only a fraction of what it would be like.

I could be your safest space. I could be your home. I could be. I would be.

Maybe, just maybe.

[hillsandpoon]

My Little Mermaid

This short story was written in the same week as The Sudoku book I don't know whether or not I like this and admittedly it's not one of my finest pieces of work and I was in two minds whether or not to publish but I think it's fair to give it a go and see what (if any) feedback it receives.

I am also in the early stages of writing a novel which is going to be a romamtic thriller set on a Greek island. I have drafted a storyline which includes many humorous elements and thoughts also I'm writing this with myself in the lead role which is never easy to do.

Anyway back to the second short story now. Please as usual leave constructive feedback it really doesn't matter if it's positive or negative.

Cleo graciously hauls herself out of the ocean and positions herself on the rock about 50 metres from the shoreline and sensually with a silver brush starts brushing her beautiful brown and wet tousled hair which cascades down her face The water still streaming down her immaculate frame Her body aglow with the reflection from the water and the sun the light dancing across the scales which cover her hips and continue down her long tapered body to her powerful fin which rests tantalisingly in the water just breaking the surface every so often causing ripples on the surface of the calm sea.

Her breasts beautifully rounded but protected and partially covered in a shimmering blue bikini top which magically matches and compliments the scales which adorn her lower torso. She is a glorious vision but she doesn’t appear to know just how beautiful she is and then she combs her long wet hair back over her head behind her ears to reveal her face making her look more appealing. Her large brown eyes and wonderful beaming smile now apparent and she doesn’t need beauty products and make up to enhance her natural beauty and besides the cold and somewhat harsh effects of the saltwater would soon remove it anyway. She sits on the rock in a somewhat reflective mood just having a little breather before she decides what to do with the rest of her day.

I stand alone on the shore as I always do at this time of day. I’ve never told anyone about this ritual as they would laugh at my story and my stupidity. I also think to myself why share my daily mermaid moment with anyone? I found myself hooked sometime ago and I now stare besotted at the vision which bestows me and I for yet another longing moment admire her back of her head her wet hair and her body from afar. I pine and crave the attention of my mermaid but she stares out to sea intently those deep brown eyes focusing on the horizon.

She isn’t aware of my presence or if she is she doesn’t give me any sign. I call out to her “Cleo, Cleo, Cleo” like I do everyday hoping that my beautiful mermaid will hear my voice and turn her head to see her prince waiting there for her. However, I know deep down that this is very unlikely for any number of reasons and yet again I long for her to hear my voice and swim towards me and take my hand and support me and guide me through those gentle waves and into her world.

An elderly lady walking her dog stops and stares at me then shakes her head and goes about her dog walking duties. I see the same lady most days and she seems to spend a lot of time shaking her head at my insane callings out or maybe I think she understands but if she does she never asks me why I call out to the ocean.

I’ve tried everything to speak to Cleo I’ve hired a small boat to take me out to her rock and to wait and meet her but she doesn’t appear on those days I do that, I’ve tried to swim out to the rock several times but when I do she never appears and it’s a long way back with a broken heart. It’s as if she knows I’m there but wants to tease me and for her to remain a vision and maybe a visual fantasy for me only? No-one else ever talks about her and I ask myself why does she choose to apparently appear just for me?

I then witness Cleo start to shiver as a slight breeze blows from the sea into my face and I wish I could swim out to her and warm her up but then suddenly my mermaid is gone and the water ripples gracefully in ever increasing circles around the rock. Her body succumbs to the waves and she is back in her very own water world. Her tailfin fleetingly appears above the waves giving me one last hope that she may have heard me and call me into her world and let me take care of my beautiful mermaid and for her to take care of me but for today at least she is off out to sea and for me my heart is broken again.

I stand on the shore thinking to myself why do I do this I don’t know I have so many unanswered questions. Why does she do this to me? Does she know I’m there? Can she hear me calling? Am I stupid even being here?

Begrudgingly and with one last hopeful look back out to sea I turn and trundle across the sand towards the steps which lead away from the beach but I know for sure that I’ll be back in the same location tomorrow and hope that maybe just maybe my fantasies will come true.

                                                                     Author – Hills and Poon                                                                  Written - 4th July 2017 

[amoirsetpacis]

★ --;; Vash can't get a word in edge-wise, on matter how many reorts sit at the back of his tongue; that that's not what he meant, that of course he didn't want Wolfwood hurt, that of course he knows its not fun. Each blow hits its mark, cracks in his resolve already shoddily held together with old glue and yellowed tape. That same anger rattles beneath the cracks, bursts forward all the more after the sort of disbelief that he's just been left here; feels it gather in heat behind his ears as heavy footsteps retreat from the bathroom.

"Would you just -- !!" Vash again moves to push himself up and fails; this time there's enough force tog et him nearly all the way up before he slips, hip and shoulder smacking hard against the bottom of the tub. His foot flies out as he scrambles, kicks the tap, and in the few moments it takes for the world to come back into slightly-less-blurry focus are enough for the pipes to groan, for cold water to start pouring out of the spout. It gets all over his pant's leg and the change of clothes that had fallen out of his lap and into the tub before he can reach over and turn off the water with the same foot, spitting curses under his breath. The joints on his side smart now, too, on top of everything.

He doesn't bother to change once he finally hauls himself up; the clothes in here are soaked now, anyways, and even though the ground still feels unsteady beneath his feet he's off towards where he heard Wolfwood march downstairs, where he'd caught the sound of the kitchen sink running after he'd stopped making such a racket of his own. Instead of distance between them allowing for things to simmer down, all it does is make it all churn in his chest, the dull ache in his side like a steady stoke.

By the time he makes it to the stairs though, by the time he takes wobbly steps all the way to the bottom and is met with the shape of broad shoulders at the kitchen sink, it's like the bubble has already popped prematurely. If this were before everything, somehow, he'd already be up in Wolfwood's face, fists white knuckled in lapels. As it stands it's like all the fight has oozed out of him and into the floor boards, unable to keep its shape under the sheer pressure of pure exhaustion, as he stands at the base of the stairs. One hand stays wrapped around the railing to keep himself steady.

"I know what he tried to do," he says quietly. All the fire behind his earlier outburst has fallen down to a low simmer; the intent is still there, but there's not enough tinder to keep the flame strong. "I didn't say you shouldn't have done anything. Just--" a heavy sigh, gaze falling down to the floorboards, remaining plumes of smoke expelled along with it. There's again the urge to run his hand over his face, but at least he has the mind to stop the palm coming up before it's too late.

"That's why I'm scared."

For someone that lies as much as he does, that threads it into conversations as though it were nothing more than breathing, Vash trusts Wolfwood with all of himself just as easily, admitting something like that. He lists to the side before finally lowering himself to sit on the bottom stair, landing none too gently.

"I didn't wanna worry you, and I didn't want you goin' out after the other guy, 'cause it wasn't his fault, so I didn't say anything." The blood spattering against the ground, the fear he hadn't seen from others in such a long time; they stay imprinted behind his eyelids, make him want to curl in on himself in disgust. "And I'm sorry, okay? But all it does is just-- just proves that whatever Knives does now, or later, or whenever he gets his abilities back, that I won't be able to do anything about it."

Vash's forehead comes down to press against his knees, drawn up to his chest. Fresh tears start to sting again against his cheeks. He doesn't have the heart to tell Wolfwood that it's better him than the rest of them, still; worn out, empty. That it's okay if it's him, if it'll keep everyone else alright, even if it's just for a while. Knows how well it would fly if he did.

"Has he talked to you?" Vash asks instead. It gets muffled against his thighs, croaked out, but between the both of them and the otherwise silence of the house it's still easy to pick up. "About his brother?" The implication of who he's speaking of is easy enough to follow. "About how much he hates himself for hurtin' him?" His shoulders sag, fingers wrapping loosely around his own ankles. The hems are still wet.

"It's gotta be me," he says. "I've already--. I've lived with it." Barely. There had been more than one ghost haunting him out in the dunes, drunk in the middle of the night. "I can't just watch him get picked apart. And I can't sit n' watch while everyone else gets hurt 'cause I didn't do anything."

"He already hurt people," Wolfwood hisses out. His voice is tinted with equal parts anger and hurt, but it isn't explosive—not yet. Fighting isn't fun, he fucking hates it. It's nothing like their usual bickering. Vash is about to burst right in front of him and Wolfwood thinks he should maybe reach out to calm him, but his own anger is rising, and rising, flames growing. Hot, dizzying.

His hands, now empty and unoccupied, don't know where to go, or what to do, and if he takes hold of the tub he's more than likely to crack the porcelain under his furious grip. They fall to his knees, nails digging into the fabric of his pants so hard he can still feel the sting.

"He tried to kill me! Was I s'posed to just stand there n'smile n'try to reason with him? Let him just run around thinkin' he can do whatever he wants? This was before I saw what he did to you! He's lucky I don't go out n'hunt him down right fuckin' now!"

The tone of Vash's voice hurts. He hasn't heard that bitterness in a long, long time. He thought maybe he'd never have to again. It might do well to apologize but Wolfwood's having a hard fucking time feeling bad about what he did. Especially now, seeing what that bastard did to his husband, and what his husband did in response.

"I just had to pick glass out of yer eye. You think that's fun for me? That I'm just gonna let that shit slide? Not a chance.

"I'll protect everyone by any means necessary," he practically spits out. "No matter what it takes."

Even if Vash taught him mercy, what mercy could he ever give this Knives?

"What if you died?" It's all tumbling out now. "I know what happened the other day. Only 'cus one of my fuckin' employees was around n'saw it, I thought maybe you'd decide to tell me, but ya didn't, just acted like you weren't feelin' well and needed to sleep it off, and now ya went and hurt yerself again 'cus of him, and I'm supposed to just— be—"

His voice cracks.

"—Fine with it?"

It's too much. Wolfwood's hands land on the edge of the tub again to steady him as he pushes himself up to his feet. He's not here to be fucking lectured like a misbehaving child or have Vash look at him like that.

He shakes his head a few times, grabs the change of clothes he had brought in for Vash and drops them in Vash's lap, turns around, and swiftly leaves the bathroom. The door doesn't slam behind him, he's not like that. Kuroneko meows at him as leaves the bedroom and passes her in the hall, but he doesn't stop for her like he normally would. Down the stairs, through the kitchen, out the back door. He only stops when he realizes he's halfway out into the backyard.

Wolfwood looks down at his hands. There are smears of dried blood and a smudge of black rot on his fingers. Vash's. It makes him feel sick.

What the fuck is he doing?

He turns around and stomps back towards the house so he can scrub his hands in the kitchen sink until they feel raw.