#i mean i think ive shown them all as kids

[head---ache]

These were made for the new character charts I'm making but I thought I could post them on their own because I haven't shown some of these little guys:)

[cringefail-clown]

okay, so we know that godtiering heals you. tavros gets his legs back, vriska gets her eye and arm back etc etc. furthermore, it could be interpreted as healing perceived disadvantages. terezi wouldnt get her sight back if she were to godtier, because she doesnt see (pun not intended but here we go) her blindness as something that weakens her, quite the opposite - and when aranea heals her sight, she hates it and purposefully wears a blindfold. sburb would recognize her preference and honor it once she ascends.

we could go even further. once ascended, all your perceived weaknesses would be removed, and what weakness means varies wildly from person to person. harlenglishcrocegberts keep their glasses, as well as vriska - we can assume they never felt like their bad sight was any issue for them, so it was left out. for trans folks, and lets put myself under the microscope - if i were to godtier, sburb might throw my way a nice and quick top surgery, but leave the rest alone since i dont have any strong feelings about those.

it could even heal things like brain damage, chronic pain, migrains, cancer, anything that you feel like brings you down will be removed. alpha kids get their hangovers healed up. ascending basically builds your body up from the start, atom to atom, whole dna rewritten if you want it to be.

my question now: would it, or would it not remove karkats or kankris mutation, making them limebloods? everytime we see vantases who are god tier theyre ghosts, and their wings are not shown. it might be because theyre small (which is a popular headcanon) or they dont have any, be it because of their mutation or because its a feature of the bloodcast they originate from, or theyre simply hidden. either way we never see what the actual color of their wings is, which would indicate the color of their blood after ascention.

basically i have no idea. but its a fun thing to think about and ive been doing it for the past few days now

[bookshelf-dust]

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 5,163

warnings: swearing, cops, talk of jail/billy's abuse, neil, fluff and love

a/n: well, here it is. this is the very last part of my very first series. i am very proud of the ending i've created for these two. i like to think i've given billy what he deserved. i'm so grateful for all of the feedback and support you've given me on the previous parts. also, a part of this relies heavily on hopper’s letter from season 3, so that’s that, and then some of his other dialogue. i’ve found that it fit billy effortlessly. i really hope you enjoy this and maybe find some solace in it. i love you all <333

before you read, listen to: time after time by cyndi lauper and/or the promise by when in rome

————

The first night without Neil, Hopper sits in his car outside the house. He promised no one would hurt them. He means it.

Nicky went to high school with both Hopper and Joyce. In fact, she was suspended for dealing them weed under the bleachers at one point. She regrets nothing to this day.

Because of that, it really wasn’t too difficult to have a heart-to-heart with the man, to get him to sit down with Billy. And Max and you. Susan.

Hopper had shown up at the house to speak with Neil. When he arrived, he told you to keep Billy in his room, though that hadn’t mattered. The second Billy realized he might actually get out of this, that he might live without fear of his own father, he buried his face in your chest, tears wetting your collarbones, your t-shirt.

You’d let him get it all out, stroking his loose and frizzy curls, occasionally laying your hands over his ears to muffle any shouting. Billy squeezed you each time you did so.

Even if he was a little hopeful this might work, Billy couldn’t help but think about that night when he was a kid. When his mama left him with Neil.

He’d sat on his bedroom floor, trying to be quiet while his dad showered, pleading with her.

“Please mom, don’t do this. Please come home.”

“How long? How long?”

“I miss you.”

She was the last person he felt safe with, before you. And she’d gone, leaving her boy with him. Trapped. Part of him wasn’t sure this would work out. He’d hoped for so long that his mother would return, and she hadn’t. Neil had dictated everything in Billy’s life so far, so how was it possible for anything to change?

Hopper had given Neil Hargrove one option.

“You’re gonna sign these papers,” he’d said, gesturing at the divorce packet lying on the table, “and I’m going to quietly take you down to the station and expose you for the piece of shit you are. Lock you up for abusing your child.”

Neil had started screaming about how Hopper had no right to do any of this, to barge into his home claiming all of this.

“Sure, yeah, pitch a fit. Like that’s gonna change anything,” Hopper said, entertained by the fact that Neil was acting like the victim.

During one of the intervals where your hands were pressed to Billy’s ears, the hoop in the left one biting into your palm, you’d caught something Hopper said.

“I suggest you shut your mouth before you give me something else to report.” By the tone in his voice, you could imagine that he was inches from Neil’s face.

“You’re a coward,” Hopper had said. “Beating on your kid because your life didn’t turn out right. Well let me tell you something, that’s not his fault. It’s yours.”

There’d been a knock on Billy’s bedroom door followed by Hop’s gruff voice. 

“Y/N, kiddo can I have a minute with you?”

Billy had looked up at you, eyes puffy. “I’ll be right back baby, I’m not leaving, I promise.”

You’d pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he’d held onto your hand until it was too far out of his reach.

Shutting the door carefully behind you, you’d looked at him. “We’re taking him away,” he said.

You blinked. “Really?”

“Really. He signed, so Susan is good to go.”

Hopper considered letting Neil run away, making him just disappear, but he didn’t want to chance him doing this to someone else. He’d already done that once though, hadn’t he?

“I’m really proud of you for helping him through this, kid. You remind me of your mom.”

His hand had been warm on your shoulder.

“If you want me to be honest, he’s lucky this prison isn’t very big. But that doesn’t mean nothing will happen if others figure out what he’s in for.”

You nodded, knowingly.

“Powell and Callahan just got here. We’re gonna be quiet. No lights, nothing. I don’t want to make this worse for Billy. But if he wants to see, we’re going soon.”

“Thank you, Hopper,” you’d said, hugging him. He’d let you. He’d had his fair share of a shitty father as a kid. Helping someone like Billy is something he’d always wanted to do.

Back in Billy’s room, you’d taken his face in your hands.

“Baby, they’re taking him now. Do you want to watch or stay inside?”

His back had straightened. He knew what he wanted, and he told you as much, so you led him through to the back steps, holding his hand the whole time, Max behind you, resting her chin on her brother's arm.

Billy got to watch them shove his father in the back of a police car, hands behind his back.

He was finally free.

————

Susan pawned most of Neil's more expensive things, that way she'd have money to cover bills for a while and have something to put towards the house payment. She hadn't really been trusted with the financials when Neil was around, aside from basic spending. Now that she had two children to look after, she really didn't want to be in a bad spot.

She had a feeling most newly divorced women would use the money to buy themselves something nice, but she didn't see any point in that. This wasn't about her. This was about making a life where Billy and Max could feel safe.

Even if Billy had whined about it to you at first, having dinner with Max and Susan at least three times a week to start was helping. And he would never admit this, but Susan was actually a pretty damn good cook. Whenever she'd prepared food pre-inmate Neil, they'd been kind of shitty. Billy supposed this had been her tiny form of protest.

It's pretty late now, but Billy is sprawled on the couch watching reruns of whatever. He's really not even entirely sure what's happening on tv. He thinks this might be Cheers. It's the fact that he can be on the couch that he's doing it. He doesn't have any particular reason to hide in his room unless he wants to.

He's missed this couch. It's the same one he's sat on since he was a kid. Since his mother was still around. It was one of the few items that made it to Hawkins when they moved.

Susan has the day off tomorrow. She said so at dinner. Hence why she's still up.

Billy hears her footsteps and looks up when she walks into the room. She gives him a gentle smile.

"I'm making Max some hot chocolate. You feel like some? I have marshmallows too, if you want those."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks."

She smiles again and then disappears for a while before returning with a mug that has a six-year-old Max's hand print on it.

Billy sits up and takes a sip. He can't remember the last time someone made him someone other than you or Nicky made him something like this.

Susan sits down a little ways away from Billy in an oversized chair that Max usually claims as her own. The only time anyone else gets to sit in it are in times like these when she's being forced to do science homework with Dustin yapping in her ear. She'd asked for help, not an entirely new lesson. Dustin did not care.

Susan starts to read a book, and Billy almost forgets she's in the room when she speaks.

"Billy?"

His eyes rove across from the television to her over the top of his mug. She sets the book down.

"I just wanted to apologize. For not doing anything to protect you from your dad. I don't really have a reason other than selfish ones, like I was afraid he'd start on me, or Max. I guess I just thought if he got it out things would be okay." She buries her face in her hands.

"God, I'm so sorry, Billy. This is your home, and I came into your life and took you away from where you'd grown up, and I never stopped to think about what it was doing to you. I was only thinking about myself."

“I should’ve helped take care of you. You were just a kid. You’re still just a kid. And I’ve done nothing but let you down. I want to be better. I’m not saying I want to replace your mom or anything, but I don’t want you to feel unsafe or unwelcome here anymore.”

Billy keeps drinking his hot chocolate but he has to hold it with both hands because they’re shaking now.

“I feel like I don’t even know you. And maybe that’s because you didn’t want to know me, or maybe because I just avoided you.”

“I’m just so sorry, Billy. I want to try. I am trying. The both of you deserve so much better and you don’t have to accept this. I just wanted you to know that and that I care about you.”

Billy is quiet and for a moment it scares Susan, but she understands he might not have anything to say. He might not want to say anything. He might be waiting until he can afford to move out of this fucking house.

But Billy finally sets his mug down. It’s empty. He looks at Susan and he nods.

“It’s okay,” he tells her. “I understand. I don’t blame you and I appreciate that you want to try. I want to try, too.”

Susan nods back, a sweet smile on her face. It’s gentle, the look she’s giving him.

Billy does understand though. His being the target of Neil’s abuse prevented both Max and Susan from it. He understands that Susan was afraid of her husband and the man that she might not have known he’d unveil to be. She was scared. He understands.

He’s willing to try. To let her in.

She stands and picks up Billy’s empty cup. “Was it okay?” she asks, “It’s just the store bought kind.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was great.”

When she grins at him she looks young. She looks tired and upset, but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it means change. Maybe it means she’s learning. She’s trying.

————

“Wear mine.”

Billy looks at you through the mirror in front of which he’s been primping. He claims he doesn’t like it when you say he’s “getting pretty.” His blush says otherwise.

“Yours?”

He rolls his eyes and puts down the hairspray he was holding. “Yeah. It’s fuckin’ cold tonight. Just put mine on. I don’t want you to walk all the way back to your house just to get something I have.”

You snort, making for his closet door. “All the way back?”

He bumps your hip with his, a common you-little-shit gesture.

“Because I live so far away.” You greet the pornstar taped to the thin wood before sliding it open.

“Should be on the right,” Billy says, ignoring your comment and shoving cologne down the front of his pants while you aren’t looking. It’s a habit at this point. Shit, he doesn’t even think about it, and he knows he doesn’t have to impress you.

You push around the clothing hanging in his closet, a couple button-ups, leather, a sweater you’ve never seen him in. It’s this cream color, thick and cable knit. You pull it out. 

“How come you don’t wear this?” you ask, holding it up to him. He unsnaps another button from his shirt and your eyes follow the movement even though you don’t mean to ogle. 

Billy looks the sweater up and down like it’s grossing him out. “I wore it once,” he tells you.

“Once,” you mock playfully, putting the shirt back into his closet.

Billy’s hands are on your hips in an instant, spinning you around. “I thought you were getting a jacket, not raiding my belongings.”

You stick your tongue out at him. It’s childish and you know it, but you do it anyway. He smacks your ass in retaliation, and you go to squeeze his but he grabs your wrist, pulling it to his mouth so that he can kiss your pulse point.

“Barf.” The voice makes you turn your head, and Max has pushed the door open fully where it had been cracked. 

“Hi, Max,” you say, pulling your hand from Billy’s grasp, even if he pouts, and moving to actually retrieve the denim jacket you’d been instructed to wear. 

You can feel Billy and Max staring at each other. “What do you need?” he asks her. 

“Just came to see if we were planning on leaving today or if I should maybe hitch a ride elsewhere.” She enters the room and sits down on the edge of her brother’s bed. 

Billy glances at his watch. “You said to have you at El’s by seven-thirty. We’ve got time.” 

She crosses her arms and Billy faces the mirror again. He thinks he’s finished. “Did you even finish packing your bag, shithead?”

You shove your arms through the jacket sleeves, looking at Max. She raises her eyebrows. No, she definitely did not. There’s a flash of red hair as she hops up, and then she’s gone, the sound of dresser drawers being yanked open and shut echoing down the hall. 

You start rolling up the cuffs, and Billy reaches for the collar, adjusting it for you. You’re focused on getting your hands free when you feel Billy’s finger lifting your chin up. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you once. He pulls away and you move back in, wanting one more. He obliges, albeit grinning at your eagerness. When you’ve gotten your fill, you kiss his cheek, and that’s the one that makes him blush. 

He moves away from you, pulling on his own jacket. “I’m gonna go start the car, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Max let it slip once that Billy always went out to warm up the car before taking them to school. She wouldn’t have assumed it was for her right off the bat, but when she realized he didn’t do that when it was just him in the car, she figured out it was him being nice. Now he just does it for the both of you. You won’t ever say anything about it. 

You look at yourself in Billy’s mirror, listening to his footsteps down the hall and out into the living room. You put your hands in the pockets of his jacket, and to your surprise you feel something. It’s not spare change, or a lighter–anything you would’ve expected to find. 

It’s a sheet of paper. You pull it out, thinking it might be homework he tucked away or a receipt or something. It’s not, though. It’s notebook paper, and it’s been neatly folded like it was done with purpose. 

You sit on the edge of Billy’s bed, and unfold it. To your surprise, it’s a page covered in his handwriting, that pretty, sometimes faintly cursive scrawl. There are some lines scratched out because he used a pen and couldn’t erase. But the thing that catches your eye is the very first line. It’s just your name. It’s a letter. A letter for you. 

Your heart starts to race and you find yourself beginning to read, sinking further into his mattress. 

There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, it reads. 

Feelings. Jesus. The truth is, for so long I’d forgotten what those were. I’ve been stuck in one place. In a cave, you might say. A deep, dark cave. And then I sat with you at lunch, and bought you a book, and suddenly you were part of my life. For the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy. 

But, tonight I’ve been feeling distant from you. Like I’m pulling away from you or something. I’m sitting here and I’m thinking about the way you looked at me that first night at the record store. The way you held on to me when I slept over for the first time. I’m not even sure if you remember it, but every time I tried to move throughout the night you whined like you were afraid I was going to leave you. Like you needed me. 

But you didn’t know about my dad or that I was falling in love with you then. And I can’t stop thinking about how I raised my voice at you when I came over today.

You pause, realizing when it was that he wrote this. The day he fought back. 

And I’ve been afraid for so long that I might turn out like him. That I might be just the same. And I’ve been scared that you might realize that too and leave me behind. But I didn’t feel that way today when you spoke to me like a human being and you wanted to work things out. I’m changing. You’re changing me. We’re changing. And I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change. Because there’s a part of me that worries you might still change your mind. The rest of me knows you won’t. 

So I think maybe what I’m saying is that when you didn’t know about how I felt or who I really am on the inside that it didn’t feel like I’d lose you. But now I’ve let you in and you can see all of me. And now that you’ve said you love me I really don’t want things to change. I don’t want to lose you or want you to go. 

But I know that’s naive. To think you’ll leave. That’s not who you are. I know you’d look at me and say that’s not how this is going to work. 

My whole life everyone has picked someone else over me. Left me behind. Left me on my own. And I know that’s how life works. It’s moving. Always moving and people change whether you like it or not. But you’ve taught me that change can be good. That it doesn’t always mean people changing their mind about me. About caring about me or that I’m good enough to keep around. 

And sometimes change is painful. Sometimes it’s sad and sometimes it’s surprising. 

Happy. 

So you know what? I don’t think change is bad anymore. I think I’m supposed to learn from it. I think that when life hurts, because I know parts of it are going to hurt and there will be things that always hurt, I should remember it. Because the hurt is good. It means I’m out of that cave. 

I just want you to hold my hand while I figure it all out. 

You finish reading and fold the letter back up, putting it back where you found it. You hadn’t realized you were crying, but you were, and you spend the next few minutes fixing yourself in Billy’s mirror. 

When he returns he thinks you’re the one primping. 

“Ready, baby?” he asks. “Max is in the car.”

You turn to him, and he smiles at you. That pretty, pretty smile. You kiss him on both cheeks and then shut off his bedroom light. 

“I’m ready.”

————

Billy pulls away from Hop’s cabin after dropping Max off, but he’s quick to stop the car again. 

You were quiet the whole way there. Sweet as always, no doubt, but it was clear something was bothering you. He doesn’t like it when things upset his girl. 

“What are you doing, Hargrove? We’re gonna miss the movie if you keep this up.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Well excuse the hell outta me, hon’.”

You slap your hands against your face, peeking through your fingers at him in hopes that he’ll go ahead and scold you.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong, baby.” Billy doesn’t have to elaborate. You never seem to have to explain your feelings to him much anymore. It’s like he’s figuring you out, like he understands and knows when something’s bugging you or if you’re hurting. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” you say.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”

You nod, and reach into the pocket of the jacket, pulling free the paper. It’s seconds before Billy sees the striped sheet that he remembers what it is, what he’d left in there. 

It all comes back to him, his wrist hurting from pouring his heart out, the relief he felt at putting his feelings somewhere. 

You hand it to him. He unfolds it and scans it over. “You read it?” He knows you did.

“Yeah.” You smile shyly at him, and it’s the same smile you gave him that very first night that you came to check on him. Billy wants to kiss you, so he leans over the center console and does; he presses his mouth to your forehead, warm and sweet. His presence is all-encompassing: heady cologne, minty gum. So very Billy. So much like home. 

He hands the paper back to you. “Feelings, huh?” he says, his mouth pulling up at the corners. 

“Feelings.”

You sandwich your hands between your thighs, taking a deep breath. Your eyes start to water and you can’t help it.

“Billy, I would never leave you, okay?” You were hoping the tears wouldn’t spill over, but it doesn’t matter because your voice fails you. It wavers and you sound fragile, young. And then he’s taking your face in his hands, wiping under your eyes even though there isn’t anything to wipe yet, just soothing motions over the apples of your cheeks, calloused thumbs and warm skin.

He stares at you, his eye contact unbreaking. When he looks at you like that, blue eyes boring into yours, you can’t help but feel a little full. Because he’s looking at you like that. You. 

“I know that. I know.”

You nod, and he nods with you, so much that it looks silly, the both of you nodding, and you start to laugh. 

“I made you feel that way? Really?”

“Of course you did,” Billy says. “My whole life I’ve felt like I’m like a black hole or somethin’. You don’t make me feel that way.”

Your heart aches for him. For this boy who’s had no one tell him how good he is. Who’s finally let you in. Who’s finally realized he can have better, and that he deserves to. 

“I love you, Billy.”

He kisses you on each cheek, your face warm against his lips. He grins and you can feel it on your face. 

“I love you too.”

When you get to the movie theater, you do pay for popcorn, and you do hand him the snacks you kept in your bag after you take your seats. Your mother said movie candy was getting much too expensive. 

You pop a handful of Sno Caps in your mouth, and Billy opens his mouth. You sprinkle some in his, and then reach for his hand. 

He looks down at your clasped fingers while a kid almost faceplants with a bucket of popcorn on the way up the stairs. Thankfully their father caught them first. 

“You did say you wanted me to hold your hand.”

“I did,” Billy says.

—————

“Sit still, I’ll be right back, I swear.”

Billy crosses his arms, but it’s hard for him to look entirely brooding when he’s got plum shadow on his eyelids. You stand. “Here, Max, supervise.” You hand her the brush between your fingers, and she snorts at her brother from where she lays across your bed. 

You make for the living room, suppressing a grin at the sounds of laughter emanating from the area. Susan and Nicky sit on opposite sides of the couch, watching The Golden Girls and talking about whatever it is that mothers-of-dating-children talk about. 

“Mom,” you say, coming to a stop in front of her. 

“Hi, honeybee. What’s the matter?” 

“Can I use some of your makeup? There’s some things you’ve got that I haven’t and–”

She smiles at you, adjusting the well-loved pillow squished behind her back. “You know you can. Whatever you need.”

Her grin is contagious, and you find yourself smiling back just the same. “Thank you.”

She nods. “Playing dress up?” Your mother gives you a knowing look, thinking about the idea you’d had in mind ever since you watched Rocky Horror with Billy that first time. 

“You could say so,” you tell her, and then you’re off to raid her bathroom cabinet, pulling free the large and full bag of goodies. 

You start to rifle through the corduroy pouch, but decide it’d be easier to take the whole thing with you to your room, so that’s what you do.

When you return, you settle on your knees in front of your boyfriend, still finding it odd that you get to call him that now, even if that is exactly what he is to you. Your pretty, pretty boyfriend. Your boyfriend who’s letting you do his makeup. 

Max hands you your brush back, raising herself up on her elbows so that she can watch the show better.

“Hi,” you say to him, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“Hi,” he responds, his voice showing all signs that he’s both enjoying this, yet also grumping about the fact that he let you do it in the first place. He settles back on his hands, legs spread so that you can sit in between them and reach him. You pull free both the pencil of thick liner you’d been looking for, and a pot of blush you know to be much pinker than the one you’ve got. Yours has also been broken on multiple occasions so that now it’s just little bits of pink powder sliding around in the pan. 

You uncap the liner first, a warm brown shade, clearly freshly sharpened by your mother. “Close your eyes, pretty please,” you tell him. He obliges, lids fluttering shut. 

You reach out, and starting to drag the tip of the pencil across his skin, you realize your hand isn’t as steady as you’d like, considering the fact that you’re also half-focused on not kneeing Billy in a place you’re quite sure he’d prefer to not be kneed. 

You let out a frustrated sigh, and Billy blinks up at you. “What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t working. Just–” You shove the eyeliner pencil into his hands, and then move from between his legs. You grip his calves and move his legs together, then crawl forwards a little and straddle his lap.

He grins up at you, a cocky and mischievous look. “Comfy?”

“Shut up and close your eyes again.”

“Well you don’t want much.” 

You pinch the squish of his side and he swats blindly at your arm. You take Billy’s face in your hand, resting the pinky of your dominant one against his cheekbone. This go around you’re able to drag the liner effectively across his eyelid. A tap at his face signals he needs to look up, and when he does, you do the same to his lower hip. Afterwards, you take a super small brush that Max found and use it to smudge the eyeliner out some, that way the lines aren’t so harsh.

You finish and take Billy’s face in your hands again, turning it to face Max. “Thoughts?”

She taps her chin, though smiling all the same. “Very nice.”

With a little more manhandling, you get some mascara on those lashes of his, though not without a little pleased squeaking in the process. It’s at the blush that you get excited enough to make him laugh. You swipe your brush heavily across his cheeks, and then the tip of his nose, where you’re probably much too generous. You don’t care. He looks so, so pretty, all blushy like this. 

“Part your lips.” You say, thumb tugging at his bottom one. You put a gloss on Billy’s lips and almost lose it for good. He’s so gorgeous. 

When you finish, you wipe your hands clean on a towel and back up a little ways from him to survey your work. 

You clap your hands. “Max, help me. Would you look at this?”

She does, laughing gleefully. “Oh my god, this is so good.”

You look Billy in the eyes, and Max hops up off of your bed to get a better look. “You look so gorgeous, my love.”

He’s thankful for the blush in that moment, because without it you’d see the effect your using that name had on him. 

“Thank you,” he says.

“Wanna see?” God, you look so happy.

“Do I have to?”

You bite your lip and Billy pulls it free, taking the little handheld mirror from you. 

And, honestly, he thinks he looks kinda hot. You picked a good eyeshadow color, one that makes his blue eyes stand out even more, and he just looks pretty. Just as you’d said. 

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. You did a very good job.”

He goes to kiss you, but you stop him. “Nope. You’ll mess up my work!”

Billy rolls his eyes and flips Max a bird when he sees her giggling at your enthusiasm and his compliance. 

“Can I take a picture?” you ask. 

Billy holds up his hands. “Oh hell no.”

“Billy, she needs to document her masterpiece,” Max says, though really she knows it’d make great blackmail. That and she loves how happy the both of you seem. She’d like to remember this too. 

“Please?” You give him your very best puppy dog eyes, making sure they’re watery and everything. You know he’ll give in. 

“Fine. But you show this to anyone, and you’re both dead.”

You laugh, grabbing for your Polaroid camera. “Who the fuck do you think I’m gonna show? Everyone I know is in this room.”

Billy’s smiles then, and you’re just quick enough to catch it. You get another after you kiss his sparkly forehead. And when you’ve finished, you stick them in the frame of your mirror so they’ll always be there. 

That night, after Max and Susan have gone home, you sit in the bathroom to help Billy wash the makeup off, but only when you’d let Nicky see, and she thought he looked stunning. Showstopping, she’d said. 

And it’s then, as you wipe the rosy tinge from his cheeks, revealing his freckles once again, that you realize months before this you’d been so alone. You’d ached for a moment like this. 

And here you were. So even if the journey to get here had hurt, even if it’d been hard and pushed you to your limits, it’s okay. Because that’s how life works. It hurts sometimes. And that’s okay. 

Because the hurt? The hurt is good.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[grimm-bot]

I don’t see the parallels between Mable and Ford and Dipper and Stan. Can you explain cause i’m really curious now.

ok ok ok so. im not gonna cite any specific sources sorry im too lazy to go back but i promise you ive watched the series too much for it to be healthy

mabel and ford are both very much similar people. they're both very artistically talented, mabel made a lifelike sculpture of stan so you cant deny this one - they also both have very similar personalities, they're extremely blunt when talking to others and outwardly weird and proud of it, they just express it in different ways. i mean how many times has mabel directly called out dipper for doing Stupid Shit in the same way Ford has to Stan ? like at least three times. at least thrice. and theres definitely a parallel between mabel embracing being a weird little girl and making sweaters every day, eating toothpaste and whatever the unicorn creature from DDAMD was - she could choose to act normal, but why in the world would she ever? and ford not having that choice, so he pursues research of the supernatural to try and find a place for himself amongst the strange and unusual. both are also called out on by society for being strange - mabel just stands up to her bullies a little better than ford does. its also important to note that neither of them socialize normally at ALL. its just that mabel is so confident in herself that when she goes up to you and says HI I'M MABEL MY EARRINGS ARE NACHOS WANNA BE FRIENDS? you're like hell yeah!!! they are!!! lets be friends!!! theyre both so trusting too which leads to them being directly screwed over by bill, it isnt their fault at all but he STILL DOES IT. plus they both briefly dated a supernatural fish creature, and had an absolutely TRAINWRECK of a relationship that altered how they'll approach their future ones - mabels was with gideon, and fords was with bill.

and hoooo their twin. stan directly sees some of his younger self in dipper, most notably in dreamscaperers, which is why he tries to toughen the kid up. the two of them also solve a lot of their problems with Punching. as soon as dipper loses access to the journal he starts swinging. bro jumped off a cliff to punch a massive robot in the eye and also swung at a massive triangle god. he was NOT hesitating he just started swinging, exactly what stan does!!! and its for their twin. soooo much of what the both of them do is in pursuit of the goal of keeping their twin safe or getting them to safety. dipper sticks up for mabel against Pacifica exactly how Stan did for his family in Gideon Rises. they're also VERY intelligent + resourceful, and can fly by the seat of their pants with random information, stan rebuilt the portal with about a third of the blueprints and with zero funding, and dipper is shown doing complex math in an instant and using what little info the journal has on various threats to thwart them - part of this is also social intelligence. mabel may be a social butterfly but dipper and stan know who to trust and when and navigate their relationships extremely carefully. theyre also hella good at convincing people to do what they want - dipper redeemed at least two people by just talking to them, the only difference between the skill they have with words is that stan uses his to convince people to keep coming back to the mystery shack so he can make money, and dipper uses his to get people to fight back against injustice. i also dont think i need to tell you how insecure the both of them are in their identities. thats not even getting into the themes of self sacrifice

sorry this was long but tl;dr: a cutiepie wearing sweaters with a book vital to the plot whose eccentricities define them, and a smart&sly guy who has a way with words, with a front meant to hide their insecurities. okay was i talking about mabel and dipper or ford and stan in that order

[mhsdatgo]

The Helaemonds/Helaegons need to calm down.

Don't get me wrong, it's always refreshing to see some people fill in the gaps of a basically untold relationship such as the one between the green kids in general, but this goes beyond basic obsessive shippy discourse. Leave this poor girl alone. Why's there an obsession with having her be romantically paired with her brothers, one worse than the other?

I understand the show has basically shown so little of her to the point where we didn’t even have a coronation for her on screen, so therefore you can self insert through her and have fun with headcanons regarding Aegon and Aemond. Really, I'm not faulting their girlies, you can be head over heels for whatever actor in character you want (unless you put them on pedestals and start acting like they did nothing wrong and pounce on whoever contests them, THEN we have a problem) but I assure you, Helaena would barely want anything to do with either of them.

Aegon is a sex pest turned sex offender, a drunkard and a neglectful father and husband at best. Her infamous toast in ep.8 has us believing that he cannot for the life of him interact with her unless he's horny drunk or that he forces himself on her at worst.* He was ready to leave them all in ep.9 before he was caught. Even the book is subtle about their relationship: all we know of them is that they sleep in shared chambers, that she was someone important and reliable in Aegon's council before B&C, and that he named her and Alicent the true Queens of his reign.

*(⚠️TW: PERSONAL OPINION⚠️ I'm not saying this last one isn't a possibility but it's sill outrageous for the way people speak about Helaena in defence of this "claim". No, she wouldn't joke about her own r*pe in front of the whole table full of people she doesn't know and right beside her abuser, and despite the hour-long metas I've read about how she's basically "too sheltered" to know what r*pe even means, I assure you she's a high-functioning autistic, not 5 years old. She can understand it perfectly.)

Helaemond is a pure show invention, I honestly wasn't expecting this many people to go up this kind of train. They barely interact, and most of the time it's Aemond saying he'd "perform his duty" should Helaena ever be wed to him, or that stare in ep.9 when he enters her chambers toiling after Alicent. It's, as always, the Aemond girlies who think poor Helaena would live her best life with Aemond, or that they are already romantically involved behind the scenes. The amount of "if one possesses a thing, the other will take it away" edits from people that are FULLY CONVINCED "the thing" is Helaena and that "the one" and "the other" are Aemond and Aegon respectively is honestly concerning.

Fics that are all about Aegon doing the worst and unspeakable things to her so "Aemond can come and save her" are y'all okay? Out of all people, HE has to save her?

Babes, I'm sorry to break your bubble, but this isn't Aegon IV/Naerys/Aemon on steroids. Aemond didn't give two shits about Helaena. No, he wasn't jealous when Jace came to ask her to dance, he just wanted to stir some shit. If we talk about the books, he didn't fucking hesitate to leave King's Landing, his sister, his mother and whatever he was doing for the Riverlands the second he heard that Daemon was there. And he brought the only means of defence they had with him. If he knew how important Vhagar was for the city's defence, he's evil, if he didn't realize it, he's dumb as fuck. Which one is it, Aemond girlies?

People beat each other to the curb about Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor's paternity like it's the Wars of The Roses. They put Helaena and Alys against the other like they have personal beef with one of them.

Stop mentioning this sweetheart only when it's about praising or hating one of her brothers. No, it's not the only option you have because she's underdeveloped as a character. There's actually another one.

LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE.

[oh-no-its-bird]

after reading your izuna tobi time travel rambles I can't help but think about them just crashing the middle of a council meeting 😭 everyone is shook, and absolutely flabbergasted and ngl they kind of just.. Want the two to stay? (Well, mostly Tobi's old subordinates/students because they feel partially sad and sentimental and OH MY GOD IS THAT FOURTEEN YEAR OLD TOBIRAMA?!?) And then the psycho Hashirama timeline is just amazinggg I can't stop thinking about it you're actually infecting my brain bro

NO BC IVE BEEN THINKING NONSTOP ABOUT THAT EXACT SCENARIO LATLEY MYSELF !! The brain worms are spreading...

(Cont. From this post for those without context)

Every other time Tobirama and Izuna enter a world where it's modern Konoha, they start taking bets about which one of them died there. Funny bit where Izuna says smthn about how there quote, "aren't nearly enough crazy nightmare trees and brainwashed people for you to have died here" (bc 9 times out of 10 in worlds where Tobirama dies Hashirama loses it to a spectacular degree that leaves a VERY visable mark on Konoha)

Actually, taking that thought, it could be fun if they got dropped into a seemingly normal Konoha only to find out that hey Tobirama did die in this one, but it seems to be the 1 out of 10 that Hashi was able to stay sane

Only nope!! Surprise attack!! He's just really really good at pretending to be normal and when they try to leave he plays his hand, lots of fire and explosions ensue and they just barley escape

Izuna and Tobirama are SO tired of people trying to force them to stay in places, theyve had Madara do it they've had Hashirama do it, maybe they even had alternate versions of eachother do it. They !! Want !! To go !! Home !!!!

Also you can't tell me that seeing a young version of them specifically would hit Madara/Hashi harder than any revived adult version could. They're lowkey the "idealized" versions of their brothers, still small and in need of being protected, not consumed with anger and burdened by the things they've done and seen in the war. They're silly little guys!! And they're slamming on ALL the "Oh god I need to protect my little brother" buttons, it's sooo bad

Anyways, them crashing into a council meeting after quite a few different rounds of dimension hopping. Meaning they really don't give a shit ab destroying anything bc they've already come to the conclusion that it's too late to be worrying ab any potential side effects of fucking with possible time lines.

They're immediatley diving across the table making grabby hands at their friendly ball of interdimensional light as it floats off, trying to go for it as soon as they land before it wanders off and they're left having to hunt for it.

I need you to picture these 2 kids just DIVING across a table of important clan people shouting smthn ab DO NOT TOUCH THAT FUCKING LIGHT

They miss it and it dissapears through a wall rip

Maybe they end up slamming into it trying to catch it for comedy effect actually

Other than just sentimentality there's also definatley a tactical standpoint of trying to get them to stay

That's THE Senju Tobirama, second Hokage, white demon and inventor of a fuck ton of jutsus. And also Izuna, who is much less known here to his (by now used to it in these kinds of world) displeasure

All young and untrained and perfect for grooming into a loyal konoha shinobi, ready to grow into his prime by careful hands who knows exactly what he could become

How much more terrifying could he be, if trained specifically by someone who knows his talents, shown his own research to build off of and given all sorts of modern tools he never had before

And also Izuna is still there and he's so fucking sick of being underestimated rn guys what the fuck he's cool too

Anyways the second Tobirama and Izuna hear "hahaha maybe you should stay a little longer..." they're BOLTING

They've heard that song and dance like 20 times now they know the warning signs and you seem nice but they are NOT risking another 'secret yandere' situation again, goodbye.

Their only saving grace is that respect and sentimentality does win out here in letting them go without too much arguing, no matter how valuable they might be. Got lucky this time around, might not be so lucky the next

[marshmallowprotection]

the previous question about photography and Saeran got me thinking all day and i dont really have time to replay the game myself so i would like to ask you - and the kind people in your comments

☆ has Saeran ever mentioned being into other forms of art? i personally think he (ge?) would love painting and sketching landscapes/plants he saw outside. Also, ive seen quite a lot of fanarts with him playing the piano or the violin. Im not sure if baking is considered art or if he personally considers his desserts as a form of it, but theres that too.

thank you for answering (◜ᴗ◝)

Yes! A common theme with Saeran is drawing and doodling. His diary is bonus material that you can purchase from the Cheritz Market in the Special Believer Box, and in it, he uses a mixture of drawing and writing to put down entries when he's a little boy. He also uses little doodles to represent the entire honeymoon journey in the Passport Package!

I assume it's because it's easier for him to draw than it is to write since it would have taken him a while to learn how to write properly. It became a habit for him. Kids tend to find ways to express themselves even if you don't teach them how, and for Saeran, it seemed to be his perfect outlet was drawing. It helped him show what he wanted to say but couldn't. This is something he's continued to do later in life, and it's been shown in subsequent material that he likes to draw for himself.

Saeyoung would've been the one teaching him how to read and write since he couldn't attend church, after all. A baby teaching another baby would take a lot of time and care, and Saeran's penmanship as a kid does express that difficulty to learn how to write. That's why we put so much emphasis on fine motor skills when kids are just getting into school, people. They have to be taught how to grip things, be it a pencil, or a pair of scissors!

As far as violin or piano fanart goes, there's no canon basis for it, I'm afraid. That's tied into the themes for Saeran and Mint Eye, and how so many fans love the idea of Ray or Suit Saeran playing the game ost! Personally, I subscribe to the violin theory. I like to think about how it also ties them to V's mother in a tragic sort of way when I'm writing different AUs.

Baking and Cooking count in my opinion! It started as a means to impress the player, but it turned into a passion. GE Saeran's love language is acts of service, quality time, and words of affirmation. Love and time goes into learning how to make a new dish. That's something that Ray, Suit Saeran, and GE Saeran share. There are plenty of game CGs and supplementary material that support this!

[depressedbagpipe]

A Heartrender's Fire: ch. IV

Tolya Yul-Bataar x Lantsov!ofc

Words: 5205 Warnings: vasily lantsov, misogyny (mentioned), someone gets a hit to the head a couple of times, anxiety? i guess, david, netflix's poor pacing choices (what even is neshyenyer), made up ravkan A/N: and off we go! why on earth are these chapters so long like wtf am i writing💀 anyways, i think i suck at writing slowburn? or romance in general

Series Masterlist Previous chapter <> Next chapter

IV: Every Monstrous Thing

“Why must you always play the diplomat, Nikolai?” Vasily spoke with disgust in his voice. “Grisha dining beside true Ravkan soldiers is a bit much for all our stomachs.”

“Wow, Vasily, I almost forgot how annoying your voice is,” Irina rolled her eyes.

“Really? I could never forget how stupidly insufferable you still are, dear sister,” he counter-attacked.

“Shut it, you two,” their Queen mother commanded lowly, smiling again for her fellow court members. 

The lines on her face were a lot more prominent after Genya’s departure, and Irina almost frowned at the sight of her mother, looking old and frail. She had always known the constant alterations were only physical, but the Queen of Ravka had always made sure nobody would see her look anything other than perfect. 

“We are all Ravkan here,” Alina spoke after a few seconds of silence, also wanting to defend herself against the heir to the throne. 

The Sun Summoner sat next to Irina at the end of the table, the odd one out in the picture-perfect royal family. Nikolai and Irina had changed into proper garments as soon as they had arrived at the Spinning Wheel per their mother’s request, and seeing each other dressed in something other than their usual attire at sea was beyond baffling. It had been too long, and although both of them automatically knew how to behave as princes, Irina particularly felt she was playing a character. 

“Doesn’t need to be us versus them,” Nikolai added, looking for conciliation.

“General Kirigan should’ve thought of that before he tried to murder my father and stage a coup,” he looked at the King, whose poor wealth was becoming more apparent with every passing second. 

Nikolai and Irina shared a glance at their older brother’s words, never missing the double meaning Vasily always added when he spoke of his birthright. The King was leaning on his chair, barely touching his food, with his gaze lost somewhere in front of him. Irina almost felt bad for the man, yet he had barely shown any interest or affection in either of his lesser kids when they still lived in Os Alta. Deep down, he knew too. 

“That said, absent their Darkling, the Grisha are rather easy to manage.”

“By ‘manage,’ do you mean ‘execute,’ moi tsarevich?” Alina asked with a fierce smile. 

Irina repressed a smile, glad she had yet another person supporting her hatred for her older brother sitting next to her at the table. 

“That fate is reserved for traitors to the Crown, Miss Starkov.”

“If the Second Army requires a leader loyal to the Crown to assure their fealty, then I will lead them.”

Irina gripped her goblet, suddenly interested in the dark and luxurious wine that she had been unwillingly drinking for the past hour. She certainly preferred the cheapest options in beverages, because those belonged at sea with Sturmhond and Ainthe. 

Vasily laughed audibly, looking at their mother before turning again to face the Sun Summoner. “Why should I believe you have any loyalty to my family?”

Irina was already taking a big gulp of her drink when Nikolai stood up, his loud voice taking up the entire chapel they were having dinner at. 

“Today marks the start of a new era of cooperation between Lantsovs and the Grisha,” silence filled the room as they stared at the second son, wondering. “I’m delighted to announce my engagement to Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner and new leader of the Second Army. Together, we will build a better future for Ravka,” he concluded.

Irina quickly surveyed the room. All Grisha cheered, edged on by the twins presiding the table to the left. The rest of the court and soldiers weren’t as buoyant. They shared worried looks, some of them shaking their heads in disbelief, others frowning deeply, staring at the King and Vasily for guidance they wouldn’t ever get. Irina tried to remain impassive, showing no emotion. Princesses didn’t get to care about politics, according to her mother. That was only reserved for the King. 

Nikolai sat down, yet his hand shook a little, drops spilling off his own goblet as he put it back down on the table.

“That was a bit much,” Alina commented, hiding behind her goblet. Her eyes were fixed on Mal, whose head had dropped in defeat. 

“Understatement is overrated.”

Vasily didn’t take long to leave, either. His chair made a profound squeaking noise against the marble as he pushed his chair away, his meal forgotten. 

“Thank Saints he’s gone,” Irina smiled, taking a big bite of her meal with a happy smirk, more animated than she had been since she had stepped foot into the dining room.

“Are you sure about this, Sobachka?” the Queen spoke to her son, her daughter forgotten. As usual. “I understand the political alignment, but is this what’s best for your long-term positioning?”

“This is what’s best for me and for Ravka, Madraya. Your other son is working hard to send this country into civil war. I aim to stand in his way,” Nikolai responded. 

His mother sighed. “It’s best I’d better plan some sort of official celebration.”

“Now’s not the time for parties.”

“Back straight, shoulders back, elbows down. Smile,” Irina whispered to Alina, trying to fix the Sun Summoner’s posture. “If you’re about to become a princess, you need to start behaving like one.”

“You know I don’t plan on that,” she frowned, yet she followed the princess’s orders. Her attempt was almost comical with how she had been sitting before Irina’s comment, but she had to give it to Alina. It wasn’t easy pretending to be graceful and poised when all you would rather do was run free in the wild.

“I know. But they don’t,” Irina discreetly motioned to the people before them, soldiers from their royal guard, court members, and Grisha alike, staring at her with newfound expressions. “As long as you play the part, they’ll follow you.” She took another glance at her mother. “You want to be in her favor, too, at least for now.”

Both girls looked at the blonde woman, who, at the same time, was already setting the details for whatever celebration she wanted to throw in honor of her youngest son’s engagement. 

“I’ll have my seamstress run you up something appropriate.”

Alina only smiled at her, taking another gulp. 

Irina wanted to laugh, or cry, or both. When had life become so complicated? 

–·–

“Sometimes I wonder,” Irina took a breath. “What would have happened if I had come clean since the start? Would Ravka be any different? A Grisha princess… maybe we wouldn’t be here now.”

Irina looked around, making sure to speak in hushed voices. Nikolai walked beside her, occasionally smiling at the many refugees that littered the Spinning Wheel. Tolya trailed after them, always vigilant, no doubt listening to their conversation, yet Irina didn’t mind. Tolya could always have access to the deepest parts of her soul, and she’d gladly allow him in every time. Nikolai had ordered Tamar to guard Alina while she remained under the Crown’s protection, knowing even in his own house she wouldn’t always be safe. Tolya, instead, guarded the siblings, becoming a safe shadow in every corner. Even though Irina hated having a bodyguard, she was glad it was Tolya trailing after her. She wouldn’t have felt safer had it been someone else.

“You know pretty damn well what would’ve happened, Irina. You would’ve become yet another pawn on Kirigan’s plan.”

“Would I?”

“Just think. The leader of the Second Army, betrothed to the princess of Ravka. It would only take him five seconds to get rid of his competition and sit himself on the throne.”

The girl frowned, stopping dead in her trail. “Is there any scenario where I don’t become a bargaining chip?”

Nikolai grimaced but didn’t need to say further. They both knew what the future for a princess always held, no matter the circumstances. 

Her brother looked at her, almost pleading. “You would’ve left eventually, Irina. I know that. I know you. You were never meant to spend your days locked away in a palace.”

“Neither were you.” She jokingly punched his arm, eliciting a smirk from the prince.

“That’s why we have Vasily for,” Nikolai laughed. 

“Thankfully.”

Nikolai smiled at two Summoners who bowed as they walked by them, and Irina stared after them longingly. Many Etherealki still wore their blue keftas, even though most of them rejected General Kirigan’s old status quo. Irina could understand them, anyway, wanting to at least feel like they had a place to belong. Wearing their keftas was the only thing tying most of them to their past –a past that had yet to be tarnished by civil wars. 

“You know, blue doesn’t suit you,” Nikolai commented, quickly piecing the puzzle together after seeing what her sister had been staring at.

“Gold doesn’t either.”

Her golden apparel mirrored her brother’s. Both of them the vivid images of the golden Ravka. Even if there wasn’t anything left of it. 

“I’d much rather see you in red.”

Irina and Nikolai had hidden their jackets, erasing any trace of Ainthe and Sturmhond. Nobody but them, save for the Heartrender twins and now Alina and Mal knew of their identities. Irina knew the day of the reveal was coming closer at a fast rate, but she wanted to hold on longer to her fiery red garment, a gift Sturmhond had gotten her after she joined his crew. It was only fit that his second-in-command would wear clothes worthy of a ship captain –especially if said captain could summon fire with just a thought. 

Irina smiled a pained smirk. “You and me both.”

“When all of this is over, we’ll go back home. To the Volkvolny. To sea.”

The princess shook her head. “What about Alina?”

“What about her?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You like her.”

“And she likes Mal.”

“Besides,” she insisted. “We both know things are about to change forever. Doesn’t matter how much we want to go back, maybe we never will.”

They both frowned at the reality they had desperately tried not to think about. They both felt it deep in their souls –there was no turning back from this.

“Moi tsarevich!” 

Both siblings turned their heads at the sight of Mal running after them, his eyes wild and angry. Tolya stood straighter despite Mal having proven over and over only to be loyal to his Saint. 

“What’s wrong?” Nikolai asked, frowning. 

“You better come see this.”

–·–

“David.”

Alina’s murderous glance was enough to make Irina shiver. Hers wasn’t the look of a powerful Grisha; hers were the eyes of utter betrayal. She arrived shortly with Tamar and Nadia, the Squaller that had welcomed her at the Spinning Wheel. Nikolai’s petite commitée had gathered at the same war room they had improvised the day before, only this time, David Kostyk, trusted Fabrikator back at the Darkling’s Little Palace, was pathetically standing by the center of the room, with both hands separated to prevent him from using the Small Science. 

David awkwardly waved at the mention of his name, his eyes perking up slightly after seeing Alina.

“Oh, so you do know him,” Nikolai groaned, walking forward to stand next to Alina, which only angered Mal more. “He claims to have escaped from a very alive General Kirigan.”

If the situation wasn’t dire enough, Irina would have laughed. David was tall, yet Tolya, taller and bigger, seemed to loom over him completely. The princess was aware of the many separations the Grisha bore back at the Little Palace, yet she couldn’t understand how the Fabrikator before her could hold such power to attract the Darkling. Yet, she was one to talk. She had practically hidden herself away since she was born only to not give away her own strength. After Alina, the Stag, and the Sea Whip, Irina Lantsov was starting to believe anything could be possible.

“He gave himself up without a struggle. We found this on him,” Nikolai gave the crumpled diary to Alina. “He says it’s one of Morozova’s journals.” He turned back to David, speaking in a louder, boastful voice. “I, for one, am dying to know more, but he insisted he speak with you.”

“Alina,” David tried, yet Tolya’s firm hand on his chest prevented David from walking any further. The Heartrender didn’t even look at him, yet David recoiled, defeated, ready to fight his case.

Irina felt almost ashamed at how Tolya’s action had her warm up. He sat casually on the railing, almost bored, knowing he could take down the Fabrikator before the slimmer man even thought about it, should it be necessary. Irina was having a really hard time not to smile. She knew the Heartrender could be deadly, yet he barely chose violence if he could help it. But his appearance told otherwise, and that was enough for any enemy to think twice before attacking the half-Shu. 

“I know I wronged you,” David began. “Please believe I regret my role in that deeply. I know you have reason to distrust me, but I have no loyalty to General Kirigan.”

“He survived the Volcra?” Alina asked.

“I’m afraid so. He also knows that you survived and that you’re in East Ravka.”

Mal intervened. “Tell us where he is.”

“No, no, no,” David shook his head. “Mm-mm, that would be a very bad idea–”

“You can’t expect us to trust you unless you’re willing to share information,” Alina pressed on. 

Tolya readjusted on his seat, noticing the tension rise in the room. He discreetly looked at his sister, standing a little too close to Nadia. He saw Nikolai, standing in between Alina and Mal. And he stared at Irina, standing by herself, with squinted eyes and trembling hands. 

“Confronting him would be suicide.” David sighed again, looking at every single person before finally giving in. “Kirigan used merzost to create something in the Fold. Creatures that do his bidding, the size of two men.” It was comical the way David moved his hands, trying to get his point across. “Formed of pure shadow. They have no breath to take, no heart to stop, no blood to drain. Yet they live.”

Irina felt her own heartbeat pick up at the thought of such monsters. She had only very recently come to terms with the fact that a living Saint was standing and breathing next to her, and now these creatures were freely roaming her homeland. That was a lot for the young princess to take. 

“They live and they kill. They are nichevo’ya. Nothing. Bullets, blades, fire, all simply pass through. And they walk freely in sunlight.”

Everybody looked at David in silence, wrapping their heads around his words. Irina tried to share a look with her brother, as they usually did in every meeting back at the Volkvolny, but the blond prince was looking at Alina. The sudden lack of fraternal comfort only came with another wave of nervousness. The room suddenly seemed darker, colder, and heavier, and the many candles that surrounded the group weren’t enough for Irina’s mind. Despite the light that came from the skylight at the dome of the chapel, darkness seemed to creep around them at its mere mention.

David finished his deadly blow. “I fear that merzost may be the only way to kill them.”

“So how did you manage to get away?” Mal fired the question everybody was dying to know.

David’s face paled even more, looking Alina straight in the eye. “Genya.”

Even Nikolai and Irina perked up at the mention of their mother’s Tailor. Although Irina hadn’t seen much of her, due to their mother keeping her hidden away for her personal use, she could imagine the hatred she had harbored for her family for years. It made sense that she had worked alongside the Darkling to bring the Royal Family down, and even though Irina wasn’t a fan of them either, save for her older brother, she couldn’t help but feel the twinge of betrayal in her chest. 

This time, Nikolai looked at his sister, yet Irina had her gaze lost somewhere in the darkness in front of her, already spiraling into a thousand different thoughts. It didn’t take a genius to recognize the pure terror on the princess’ face.

“We tried to escape together, but… the nichevo’ya. She sacrificed herself to get me out. I don’t know if she survived.”

Tolya then spoke, with one hand discreetly placed before him. “A smart spy will always play the victim.”

Irina didn’t have time to wonder what her friend was doing, for she immediately felt her heart slow. She looked down, unconsciously allowing the contactless source to apply pressure on her chest, effectively breaking her pattern of thoughts as the blood in her system flowed slow and steady, instead of the erratic speed it had just previously harbored.

Breathe. She felt his words inside her skull, almost enough to lull her to sleep. Her eyes unfocused for a second before the girl turned her attention back to the Fabrikator, still feeling the pressure in her chest, only the anxiety had seemed to evaporate with one last breath. Although she hated it when either of the twins used their power on her like that, unprompted and abruptly, she was now grateful that Tolya had seen her despair before it could get worse.

“No, no,” David shook his head. 

“You make a valid point, Tolya,” Nikolai picked Tolya up. “As leader of the Second Army, this is your call,” he looked at Alina, who looked back at Nadia.

“You’ve known David the longest. What do you think?”

The Squaller had not stopped looking at David, but she still responded in a whisper. “Kirigan always kept him very close.”

“Take him to a holding cell,” Alina declared, looking at Tolya, whose hand was still aimed at his princess.

The giant nodded, slowly breaking the connection with Irina with a small nod in her direction, and quickly walked away with David, taking all of the tension with them.

–·–

Irina found Tolya a while later right by the small fountain inside the chapel. The dome stood directly above him, showering the room in light, which the Heartrender used to read his poetry. Some of the Grisha around him eyed him warily, almost afraid, and once again, Irina had to laugh. He wasn’t the deadliest person in the room.

She smirked, seeing as he hadn’t heard her coming yet. She tried blending in with the background as much as she could, sneaking up behind him and scaring him as she forcefully gripped his arms. The girl laughed at the little jump the giant did, congratulating herself on scaring the scariest man in the room. Good-natured Tolya didn’t have the heart to tell Irina that he could recognize her presence anywhere, even before she came into the opening.

“Thank you for earlier,” Irina said as she sat down next to him, fixing her attire after taking a big gulp of air to calm down. 

Tolya smiled at her. “Anytime. I thought you were going to faint any minute.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Irina thought about it for a second but decided against it. “I’d much rather forget all about it for now. What are you reading?” Although she knew Tolya would eventually ask again, she sighed in relief when she saw him pick his book up again, and open it up.

“Selected poems from Negu Kir-Tizur,” he leaned on the fountain, lowering his arms so Irina could see the poems better.

She frowned. “They’re in Shu.”

“You forget I am half-Shu,” he softly hit her with the book in her head, earning another giggle from her.

“I can’t read Shu, you dumbass” she laughed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, moi tsarevicha, I forgot to speak the language of the Saints,” he mocked her, feeling desperate all of a sudden to hear her laugh once again.

That’s exactly what he got. “Hey, that’s not fair!” she giggled again. “You know I always ask you to teach me and then you never do!”

“It’d take years! I don’t think you’d ever understand the complicated themes of the Shu verse,” he continued his teasing, which Irina adored.

“And why is that?” she crossed her arms, trying not to smile.

“You don’t have the patience for that.”

Irina was about to fight him, but she knew he was right. “Well.”

It was Tolya’s turn to laugh. The melodic sound was carried through the dome with its marble columns, and for a second, Irina thought about how that memory would always haunt her in her mind. How, for a few moments, she wasn’t the princess of a dying nation, but a normal girl, talking to the boy she was desperately trying not to like.

“But… I can translate it for you?” Tolya offered, his fingers skimming through the paper, looking for the one poem he knew his companion would like.

“Please,” Irina smiled innocently, using the book as an excuse to not stare into his eyes.

But their moment didn’t last long, because Malyen Oretsev always seemed to have the most perfect importunate timing.

“I was skimming this again for leads on the Firebird, then I remembered a legend about a sword from Shu Han.” Mal had taken it upon himself to read over and over the Istorii Sankt’ya. He claimed it was only to find another way to help Alina, but Irina knew Mal was looking for a way out in it.

Tolya resumed on turning pages of his poetry book, not yet ready to burst the little bubble Irina and he had accidentally summoned for themselves.

“Neshyenyer. The Relentless Blade.”

“You know of it?”

He shrugged. “Of course I do. It’s a folktale. The Fabrikator Kho created an unkillable army made of cogs and bone–”

“Until the Fabrikator Neyar forged Neshyenyer,” Mal finished for him. He showed Tolya and Irina the paintings in the book, reading the words. “‘When Neyar fought, her blade flashed so brightly that people watching swore she had lightning in her hands.’ A blade so sharp it could cut shadow.”

Tolya chuckled. “It’s a bedtime story. My culture has the best myths.”

Irina slapped him across the head, much in the same way he had done earlier with her, only harder. He could take it.

“Ouch.”

“The Sea Whip was a myth,” said Mal with a smirk at their interaction. “So was the Stag. And they were real. She killed an unkillable army. This could be the weapon we need against Kirigan’s monsters. And this book… says it’s in a temple in Ahmrat Jen.”

“No, I doubt that. The one on display is widely rumored to be fake.”

But that didn’t let Mal down. “Okay, how do we find the real one?”

“Who has the money and means to acquire valuable weapons?”

Mal looked at Irina, but she quickly raised her hands in innocence.

“Wrong sibling.”

–·–

“The blade in Ahmrat Jen is indeed a replica,” Nikolai sighed. He hadn’t left the improvised war room at all, and the exhaustion was evident in his voice. “And the original was stolen long ago. I suspect it’s never left Shu Han. If it turned up in the wider black market, Sturmhond would’ve heard about it.”

“This could be the only weapon able to kill Kirigan’s shadow creatures. We need to find it.”

“It’s a valuable old sword, sure. That doesn’t mean the story behind it is true.”

“Any chance is better than no chance,” Mal argued.

Nikolai grinned. “That’s a very Sturmhond thing to say. Were he here, he would surely commend you.”

“It’s a little bit unsettling how you talk about him like he’s someone else.”

“Get used to it,” Irina commented.

“And he would suggest that our mutual friends in Ketterdam might be the perfect crew for the job.”

“You’re really gonna trust the Crows with this?” 

Irina trailed after him, right after they finished their meeting with Tolya and Mal. The giant had volunteered to find it, and rapidly Nikolai had issued a request for a Squaller to join him.

“Not just the Crows. I trust Tolya,” he said as he stepped into his room, turning around to face his sister as she closed the door behind her. “And I trust you.”

Irina froze. “Me?”

“You.”

“You’re sending me away for this?”

Nikolai could argue all he wanted about how he just wanted his best people to get the sword, but Irina knew better.

“Yeah. If anything the Durast said is true, I don’t want you anywhere near Ravka while the Darkling is still alive.”

“That’s not fair. You need every loyal person right here.”

“Irina.”

“Nikolai.”

“I do trust you and Tolya to get the sword. He’ll need an Inferni to cross the Fold, that’s where you come in. And even if this little mission didn’t succeed, I’d still feel better knowing you’re not within the Darkling’s range.”

She shook her head. “Do you think I feel any better knowing I’m leaving you here alone?”

“I’m not alone! I have the Sun Summoner!” He walked to his closet, pulled an army pack from it, and handed it to his sister. “Everything you need is already here. Including your coat.”

She stared at her brother for a few seconds before taking the bag from his hand. “You’re awfully prepared.”

“I always am.”

“Was this your plan since the beginning?”

He shrugged. “I have my own bag, too.”

She shook her head. “And what do I do? Am I supposed to be Irina or Ainthe?”

“Whatever feels right to you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’ll know when the moment comes.”

“Nikolai.”

“Irina, do whatever you want. I’m not letting you live in my shadow forever. This is your time to make your own decisions.”

“I want to stay.”

“Except that one,” he tried to smile but failed. He stood before his sister, staring at her as if trying to remember the sight of her. “Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen here, but it doesn’t look good. Should anything happen to me or Vasily, you’ll know what to do. But please, just do me this one favor and step away, at least until we can defeat those shadow creatures. Please.”

It wasn’t like Nikolai Lantsov to beg. Irina knew right then just how much she meant to her brother. He was willing to send her away on a permanent vacation just so she wouldn’t have to face the horrors that roamed freely in Ravka. 

You do what you have to do to protect the people you love. But how do I protect you?

But before Irina could ask, Nikolai was already shoving her out of his room.

“Get ready, you leave at three bells.”

The door was closed after her, leaving a confused and quite afraid young girl in an empty hall of the Spinning Wheel.

Almost automatically, Irina simply followed his instructions, changing into her old pirate’s clothes and keeping her mind as empty as possible. She didn’t have time to cry. It wasn’t the first time the girl left on a mission for a few days without her brother, but for some reason, she knew things would be much different once she came back.

Her red coat felt like a second skin on her, and for a split second, she grinned. The blood in her veins and the coat in her arms would always be something she shared with Nikolai. 

It didn’t take her long to walk back onto the main entrance, where her small party was waiting, together with Mal and Tamar..

“If anyone can find Neshyenyer, I suspect it’s them,” Mal agreed. “Thick as thieves, those Crows. Clever too. Managed to cross the Fold on some sort of fortified train.”

“Last time I was in Ketterdam, I didn’t get to stop at the Kooperom for an omelet,” Tolya commented out loud.

Tamar groaned. “Oh, so that’s why you volunteered. Without me, who’ll stop you from following your stomach off the edge of a cliff?”

“That’d be me.” Irina stepped into the light, joining their conversation. 

Tolya almost broke his neck at the sound of her voice, smiling a wide grin as he got his pistol ready. Tamar’s eyes twinkled at the prospect of her best friend and her brother on a mission together, and she would’ve made another smart remark at that had Zoya Nazyalensky not interrupted them.

“I thought we were leaving at three bells?”

Irina had yet to share a word with the Squaller, but her stiff posture and annoyed voice almost made her roll her eyes. She did recoil at the sight of the princess, but she still looked at Tolya with a questioning glance.

“Tolya’s trying to cram his entire poetry library into his pack,” Tamar smiled at his brother as he gave him his last book, which didn’t fit.

Zoya frowned, disgusted. “Poetry?”

Tolya began. “Long may the night whose dark–”

“No,” Zoya cut him off, making Tamar giggle and Tolya frown. “There’ll be none of that.”

Mal patted him on the back and whispered to the remaining party. “Bring back Neshyenyer for Alina, alright?”

“We will, don’t worry,” Irina said, taking the book from Tolya’s hand and shoving it into her backpack, not missing the appreciative grin the giant sent her way.

The three of them followed Zoya, who had already opened the door to the outside and was walking down the stairs.

“That was from Rabinov’s Cantos. A definitive work.”

Tamar trailed after them. “Yeah, now let’s go over the snacks you’ll bring back from Shu Han…”

“Guys? A word?” Nikolai suddenly called as they were about to exit.

The four of them stood at the entrance, looking at each other with fondness in their hearts.

“Take care of each other. I know I don’t have to worry about you two out there together, but be careful.” 

Tolya nodded, with a solemn expression. “I’ll protect her with my life.”

Irina scoffed. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Good.” Nikolai shook Tolya’s hand decisively, before bringing him closer for a quick hug.

“Your brother’s an idiot.” Irina looked at Tamar, who had watched the interaction with a smirk.

“I know.” She smiled. “Be careful, okay?” Tamar tightly hugged her friend, rubbing her back. “And don’t let Tolya eat all of Shu-Han’s sweets. He’s got to bring some back for me.”

Once they parted, Irina looked again at Nikolai. Whatever emotion wanted to escape through her eyes was quickly repressed, if only for a few seconds until her brother couldn’t see her anymore.

“Say goodbye to Madraya for me?” she offered a weak smile. 

Nikolai nodded. “Try not to set anything on fire,” he joked, before crashing into her body and embracing his little sister tightly. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” she whispered as she closed her eyes, her heart cracking slightly at the finality of their words.

“Alright, c’mon, group hug,” Nikolai joked again, and Irina laughed loudly when she felt two pairs of arms embracing them, basking in their warmth for a few seconds before they parted once again. “Come back to us.”

“We will.”

Next chapter

[tiny-vermin]

I want to know more about the m9 artist au!! I remember reading a post or two about it a billion years ago (and would love to read them again) 💜

hi jess!!!! thank u for being interested hehe :")

so ever since i drew that lil thing of essek painting a frank stella inspired painting (or even before), ive been thinking of what kinds of art each of the m9 would do. essek ofc is inspired by a minimalist show that i went to here, all the big names from that movement were shown, but those really dark, sinkhole-like paintings are speaking to me. another artwork of boxes made of mirrors also seems like the thing he would do too

there's a kiln here that we visited which was huge, and surrounding it were artists' studios and some other ceramic sellers, i imagine the clay family having a place like this in the middle of nowhere amongst the trees, and caleb would do his work there

anyways because at heart im a shadowgast luver its centred around them,, they meet at an artist residency or something like that and its an incredibly slow burn that involves talking and not-talking and looking and not-looking. in the end i am but a simple wong kar wai fan so. that kinda vibes would definitely influence this, i would describe it as a quiet burning i guess?? time skipy and words that are not said

i think im gonna rant a bit more about their different mediums and styles so i'll keep it under the cut

i think caleb sculpts figures and portraits, but in a sad, kathe kollwitz charcoal vibe. maybe some funky looking animals, perhaps some pots and vases to look at the pretty glazes. he's interested in using fire to burn texture into different mediums, like ive seen it being used on shellac to make a really cool net of ink looking structure.. but yknow, just seeing the aftermath of glazed ceramic from the kiln is enough, and probably better for him to keep his distance anyways

the clay family produces most of the ceramic to sell, vases, pots, plates, cups, teapots, yknow just a whole array. and its really colourful too, depicting every family members different style. i think caduceus would do some matte glazes with a lot of different colours, theyre all a little wonky but theyre better off that way anyways. he does some really mean ink calligraphy and painting though

jester definitely does,, everything, whatever her heart desires kinda thang. she makes pastel textile installations and lighthearted cute paintings, but theyre always so contemplative and soothing. she gets m9 a lot of work cus her mom has connections, etc etc. i really love the idea of jester creating works that talk about the female body and femininity (definitely not projecting no)

beau is a printmaker and photographer who's really experimental, she loves cyanotypes and printing flowers (for yasha), idk she seems like she would put fabric and rocks into the washing machine to see what would happen. u would probably catch her in someone elses studio learning about what they do or in the library learning about what old people did

veth works in a museum as a curator, getting beau to help her sometimes with gathering artworks and artists etc. she probably organises community art projects for kids and public art installations. her house is full of m9's artworks and various other artists shes worked with.

yasha does bouquets as her post-retirement part time job, prior to that no one really knows what she did ("she probably murdered a bunch of people and is now hiding from the government"). fjord draws comics for fun but is also not a job for him, molly is a question mark for me. but these guys probably wont be in it as much anyways

im still not sure what format i wanna do this in, im actually having fun just writing it in my notebook now (digital does not facilitate the creative juices) but i do want to do some visuals like fake movie stills or storyboards. maybe they will work together well???? dunno. working on the other shadowgasty thing im doing made me realise how much easier it is to draw when there's a script already there, so im writing the script for myself

im definitely not as practiced in writing as i am in drawing, but idk im just gonna have some fun and see where that takes me, meanwhile try not to feel too bad that its fanart HAHA (very bad habit)

edit: i just saw my previous thoughts on beau being an art journalist, but i kinda like this better.. but maybe she can do both muah

[fashion-foxy]

Heyyyyy so you know how in modern Disney channel movies (Im specifically talking about the Zombies and Descendants franchises as those are movies ive seen but I do think some of these traits are in other disney channel movies like Highschool Musical) the bad guys are always loud flamboyant theater kids? And how the good guys are always good morally upstanding people who have either were raised in the American Dream(tm) (nuclear family, upper middle class, perfect grades everything's going great) or live in a poorer situation but are still good people who will eventually get the picture perfect American Dream(tm)?

Yeahhh I hate to say it but that's kinda based off the formula of classic (when i say classic i mean Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. Not Renaissance era) Disney Princess movies where you have the same villain and hero formula.

Now, why am I treating any of this as a bad thing? Well, that was probably based on how villains were deliberately given queer traits to seem more villainous. You see, back in when Snow White and other classics were being worked on there were codes in place to ban queerness from being shown on film because queer people are the devil and they're gonna corrupt you and your kids if you don't watch out! Or some other stupid homophobic shit like that. So, it being the 30s, naturally, people aren't too keen on the concept of gay people. So, what's an easy way to get people to immediately let your audience know just from looking at them that your villains are evil? Give them stereotypical queer traits, of course!

And it's the exact opposite with Disney heroes! Have princesses be traditionally feminine whatever that time periods version of being a 'good woman' is. Could range from being good at cleaning and never going against authority, and even if she eventually does, make it be in the nicest way possible. Or, have her be a strong and independent woman who doesn't need a man. But, you usually focus on the woman because she's the driving force who goes through all the terrible things, and the men shouldn't be all too present because she either doesn't need a knight in shining armour or he's only there to provide the American Dream Happily Ever After.

Another thing we see in classic is the movie must always return the status quo. We can change some things about the poor area but not change it too much. I.e. we can get rid of the border but not actually do anything to combat classism or help the poor people not be poor. If the our main character is rich they stay in on their side of the border in their rich area. If the main character is poor they get to be honorary rich person but they'll have a plot line where they're not like the other girls and are having a really hard time being rich. This will conclude with them saying something about how, "They're not rich they'll poor at heart!" Which means they'll gonna be rich and wear black and be a bit quirky.

So, in classic movies the heros have a very conservative/heteronormative view of the world and way of life. While the villians possess queer traits and our the ones trying to make any changes to the system. But the thing is, NOTHING has actually changed in these modern Disney channel movies! They still use the same formula! The only difference now is that they get to queer bait audiences now!

Here are some great videos about how the formula of Disney characters has changed over the years. If you want to hear more on this subject:

https://youtu.be/OkadXlv_eA0?si=Z_avjkQKIpxGRyvf

https://youtu.be/HYh4e9u5HuE?si=4eFwcBd-iI-PTq03

Sidenote:

This is also why I love eah so much. Literally subverts the very idea of Disney style fairytales in a brilliant way. I'll never get over the fact that it lost to descendants.

[edsheerankinnie]

Ok im gonna piss of a whole fandom w this. but here we go lol

So ive been thinking abt She-ra lately (spop specifically) and ohmy god it fucking sucks. like i get so mad anytime i remember it, like and if anyone asks me abt it im gonna warn them do NOT watch this show FOR UR OWN GOOD. unless u dont mind an entire season of fanservice AND BY FANSERVICE I DONT MEAN NUDITY OR THE ANIME KIND, ILL GIVE YALL THAT, i mean specifically how they made catradora canon w virtually no other buildup than they were raised together and ooh they hate each other ouuh ;)) enemies to lovers oouogh🫦 like if ur gonna make a ship like theirs work its gotta have some sort of proper progression w their relationship right? But no, the ENTIRE time up until MIDWAY INTO THE LAST SEASON theyre constantly at each others throats like. its not even fun at that point, it just looks weirdly abusive and toxic. And hey, while were still here, catradora in execution is Such a bad ship bc like. They were raised together. by the Same Person. not even just under the Horde, theyre literally both raised by Shadow weaver. and before their rivalry and in several flashbacks their relationship moreso implicates sisterhood than anything. like idk i dont wanna get too bold here, but it just feels a little too close to !nc3st to just put them together like that?

Omg and lets talk about Fucking SHADOW WEAVER omg. like throughout the whole show were shown and told abt how much of an abusive parental figure she was to adora and especially catra right? But then at THE LITERAL VERY END, Shadow Weaver SELFLESSLY sacrifices herself to help catra and adora save the world. SHadow Weaver, whose entire essence was her desire for Power, who betrayed her own people to obtain it. Who's only semblance of a redemption was her working with the Princesses, just because she would be in a better position of power. no remorse whatsoever for how she treated the two as kids. Nevermind her fake-out to catra that one time, in fact that scene highlights just how easily she'll manipulate those close to her to get what she wants. and u expect me to just "oh wow shadow weaver is so noble for that! This is so sad! poor catra and adora, they lost their now-good mommy!" (again, *their* mommy, eugh). Like im having a hard time believing they were able to mourn her loss like that at all. We've seen them both have very complicated feelings about Shadow weaver. Ok well to be fair we didnt actually GET to see them mourn. which IS ALSO SOMETHING I HAVE ISSUE WITH

the SPEED AT WHICH THE 5TH SEASON RAN omg i HATED IT I HATE IT SO FUCKING MUCH. SO MUCH HAPPENING IN LIKE !) EPS OMG, and on top of that WE DONT EVEN GET A PROPER CONCLUSION???? U EXPECT ME TO BE SATISFIED W THEM ENDING THE LAST EPISODE 5 MINS AFTER SAVING THE WORLD????? And ohmygod DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HOW THEY SAVED THE WORLD AUGHJLFDRCRJ IT WAS SO BAD Like girl i need SOME kind of CONCLUSION, not just "yay the horde is gone! sunshine and rainbows! bye bye!" GIRL WHAT THE FUCK??! WHAT HAPPENS AFTER??? I WANNA SEE THEM REBUILD ???? I WANT A FLASH FORWARD (AND NO ADORA'S 5 SECOND VISION WHILE SEEKING THE HEART DOESNT COUNT), I WANNA SEE EVERYONE ADJUSTING TO THEIR NEW LIVES. I WANT SOME SWEET SWEET BANTER. I DONT WANT TO READ A FANFIC DEPICTING ALL THAT BC THE CREW GOT LAZY. I WANT A NICE BASE FOR ALL THAT. U GET WHAT I MEAN??!?!?

I think i should mention that i am in no way shape or form homophobic or anything, i am literally the president of the fruitcake club, ok? but the catradora kiss was probably the worst canonization of a relationship in an animated series ever, period. Like really? while Adora's half dead?? and otherwise the whole world ends if u dont?? And with only 5 minutes of runtime left ?????? I am being edged. I am being edged in the worst possible way. I hate it so much. "Dont leave me adora! I LOVE you! I ALWAYS have!!" HUHHH???? U EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT????? "i love u too🥰" HUHHHHH???? GIRL WHEN DID THIS DEVELOPMENT HAPPEN??? U hung out for literally 3 DAYS and u expect me to believe u guys went from enemies to working out their issues to googoo eyes???? when there was HARDLY ANY OF THAT THERE TO BEGIN WITH???? also just the overall trope of "oh no the world is ending, if i kiss this guy it'll be saved" is sososo bad, idc if its a straight or gay couple, it is probably the most annoying trope ever. like gyattdayum i didnt know i was watching an old Disney movie. i thought this was an epic scifi my bad. Yall need a moment? Do u wanna fuck too? Maximize ur "power of love" slay so the world is extra saved? jesus christ. its the "true loves kiss" trope all over again. Like thats such a rude way to treat a ship too. I want to see it in action, i want to see real progression, ESPECIALLY bc its the main ship, not "ooh they might be gay!!11! ooh they might kiss :) oouhh" and then last second theyre like "btw theyre in love now ;)"

Like id *maybe* get it if there were time constraints like with TOH, id get it if they were like "the idea and concept were there, mr CEO wanted us to shut down the party." but from my research, they didnt really have any constraints like that. And im saying *maybe* bc like with TOH for instance, even though they were forced to cut the show in half, they still delivered everything to progress and end the show properly! They had an *afterword*! they had Lumity and Huntlow and Raeda!! And oh my god the progression of Lumity is so sweet and beautiful! we get to see their "enemy" phase, we get to see them fall for each other, we get to see them date, we get their First Kiss!! We get to see how much they care for each other!! And sure, on the flipside we dont really get to see Huntlow. But thats bc the show got cut before it could *really* take off. There was supposed to be a whole season of Willow and Hunter's hijinks while the gang was in Connecticut. There was supposed to be a whole season of the gang adjusting to Connecticut! We were supposed to see the Archivists involvement and the ultimate showdown in the 4th season!! But they had to be economical bc of the cut, right? So they made a montage of Connecticut, they made three separate, HOUR LONG episodes depicting what couldve happened in the 3rd and 4th seasons. we get to see Willow reciprocate Hunters feelings in the 2nd ep! And most importantly, we get a real conclusion!! we get to see everyone rebuild, we get to see how theyve adjusted, how their lives and relationships have changed. We get a satisfying moment for it all to sink in. we get to properly say our farewells to the characters. All loose ends are properly tied! The Owl House may not be in my top list of cartoons, but u have to admit, it has a very good and satisfying conclusion. And all that with such intense time constraints too.

Now dont get me wrong, She-ra and its characters is written incredibly well (mostly) and its LGBT/POC rep is a game-changer. Heck, i loved Scorfuma, and that was only crumbs of a side ship. And the character designs/animation/colors are absolutely gorgeous, like that is honestly what probably pulled me to watch this show. Im just disappointed in what couldve been, yk? It had so much potential. especially in its last season, it just feels like the writers had too much setup and didnt know how to resolve it. 2/10 would not recommend.

[scrufflebolt]

my personal sven svensson headcanons

- he would most likely be 24-26 in canon but hes 23 to me, why not?

- isnt actually physically weak, he was just too busy talking to actually get ready to fight henry so he was caught off guard

- average height, maybe 5'9, or 5'10. just a bit shorter than swedish average though which is 5'11

- more than likely canon, but he's VERY talkative. stay in a room with him too long he'll rant to you about his opinions and interests for hours

- it'll take him a while to notice but he'll stop talking if you're uninterested

- lets his hair grow out a lil (as shown in the drawing above) and cuts it after a while

- usually cuts his own hair but whenever he doesnt he lets earrings cut it

- fluffy hair, and by that i mean its real soft and nice. he gets annoyed if its oiley because it feels weird

- has like 2 moles on his face

- joined the toppat clan at a young age, perhaps 16. ive jumped on the conclusion that he was taken by rhm while they were robbing a bank/store while sven, himself was attempting to steal something

- was those stereotypical troubled teenagers. hes changed a lot as an adult now and is more mature and is a respectable young man. however he still has little bits and pieces of his past personality now he'll show off duty. like he'll be a little playfully mean and tease you just a lil.

- kinda sassy lmao but also unintentionally rude sometimes

- actually laid back when he's not stressed or angry. but he gets stressed out easily, especially ever since he's been a leader.

- is up for new things but HATES having to be forced to change things

- he either perceives mr macbeth or rhm/reg as a father figure. they call him "son" and give him advice occasionally. its one of them, i just havent decided which one i wanted it to be yet.

- it's just a father-son like relationship but it's not an actual one because i hc reg/rhm to be in their late 30's/early 40's

- hes not THAT obsessed with sharks. yeah i say he'd like sharks but he wouldnt know the answer if u asked him a specific question abt sharks.

- very prideful. very open about his identity, nationality, opinions, blah blah blah, all of it. he'll talk all about it

- gets embarrassed easily, especially if hes proven wrong in an argument or if he was wrong about something but hey, at least he'll admit it

- looks like a child in some pictures of him and hates it (he looks like a little kid in some endings from thsc but looks like an actual adult in others)

- thinks dogs > cats

- real tired, the adjust to him becoming leader is too much to handle

- WANTS to rest but doesn't because if he finishes all his work then he could get it all done with then rest after

hope u enjoyed these hcs, haven't seen anyone else headcanon or perceive sven the same way i do yet (i will occasionally edit this post to add more)

[bookshelf-dust]

really know him

part i part ii part iii part iv

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2,906

warnings: swearing, feelings, feelings, and more feelings, hurt/comfort

a/n: hello! i've decided that there will be one more part after this one, and then that will conclude this little series. i hope that you've enjoyed it so far, and maybe even found some semblance of something in it. this version of eddie has been pretty enjoyable for me to write. let me know what you think of this part! i'd really appreciate it. love you! <3

update: this is how it ends. i couldn’t think of any other way to complete the series, and i feel like this is an alright ending for these two. i know that might seem disappointing, but sometimes you just have to move on. i hope you enjoyed this little series for what it was, mess and all.

————

You creep down the hall, hoping that neither of your parents will have heard the sound of your footsteps. It’s not until you’ve locked your door and taken your shoes off that you allow yourself to sit down. You’re not sure you’ve taken a proper breath since you started arguing with Eddie. 

You can’t get the sound of his voice out of your head.

“Try what?”

“Letting me in, for fucks sake! I can’t fucking help you, if you won’t let me in!”

You fuss with the hem on the blanket covering your bed. Eddie is upset with you, and you don’t know what to do.

“Why won’t you let me in?”

But maybe you do. You have to let him in. You have to talk to him, tell him how you’re feeling, how scared you are of losing someone who makes you feel as safe and cared for as he does. You have to tell Eddie how you really feel—about school, about your homelife, about him. 

“I want you, Y/N.”

You lay down on your back, legs hanging off the end of your mattress. You stare at the ceiling: every thought, every fear is choking you all at once. 

Maybe you never should’ve made friends with Eddie. Maybe you never should’ve tried to get to know him. Really know him. Maybe it would have been easier if you’d just kept to yourself, done your schoolwork, suppressed your emotions like always. 

But what if it isn’t supposed to be easy? What if it’s about damn time you got off your ass and fixed this? If it’s time you let someone in?

Do you really want to let this go? To not even find out what it might be like—loving Eddie Munson?

When the tears start, you don’t bother to wipe them away. You let them pool in the corners of your eyes and slip free, sliding down the sides of your face and over the bottoms of your ears. You let yourself cry because you know that there’s a part of you that wants Eddie too, that is upset for having shouted at him, for having not taken the opportunity to let him help. 

You need to talk to him. You know that. And how is it fair if he’s let you really get to know him, but you haven’t let him really know you? He deserves better than that. 

“I think maybe you should want someone who’s not so much trouble.”

Your stomach drops. You hadn’t meant to say that, but you did. 

How could you know what he wants if you won’t talk to him? You know you were in the wrong for having said so. Maybe you were overwhelmed, but Eddie had laid all of his cards out for you, he’d shown you his damn hand, and you couldn’t even accept that. 

He was honest with you, he said he wanted you, and you told him that was wrong. What right do you have to tell him that? How would you feel if he’d said the same? Like shit, that’s how. 

You need to fix this. 

And you know it’s going to hurt, that it’s going to be hard, that you’re going to have to spill your guts and show him how much he means to you. But that is what he deserves. He deserves to know that he is wanted, that someone appreciates him. Loves him. 

And life hurts, doesn’t it? Shit is hard, but you do it anyhow. This is your life, and Eddie Munson is not worth losing.

————

“Y’know, staring at her window isn’t gonna do a thing, kid.” 

Wayne sits down with a sigh. Eddie’s been outside on the porch, staring off into space for what Wayne is damn sure has been an unhealthy amount of time.

Eddie hadn’t slept much at all, drifting in and out of sleep throughout the night. He’d been awake to hear Wayne come home—something he’s usually totally knocked out for. He’d pulled himself out of bed then, wanting to see his uncle, wanting to tell him everything but worrying that he’d be too worn out to hear about it. 

Instead, Wayne had made the two of them breakfast, and then they’d talked about it. Halfway through the meal, Eddie had realized that talking is exactly what he wanted to do with you. What he wants to do. He doesn’t know if you will ever talk to him. But maybe he shouldn’t think that way. 

Wayne hadn’t been upset with him when he’d got a little teary over the prospect of you, of more than just a friendship with you. He’d just rubbed his shoulder and made sure Eddie ate, assuring him that the both of you would work it out, that he’d be here if Eddie needed him. 

When he’d finished, Eddie had gone outside. Now he’s tempted to walk across the street, to tell you he feels like he can’t breathe being so frustrated with you. But there’s also a part of him that feels like that’s a bad idea, that thinks you’ll come to him when you’re ready. 

Any part of him that was angry at you has dissipated, leaving only hurt and exasperation. He just wants to fix it. He hated seeing you so overwhelmed, hated hearing you shout at him, hated hearing you speak about yourself like that. 

But he’d meant what he said. He does want you. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Eddie says. 

Wayne huffs a laugh, claps a hand against Eddie’s knee. 

“You gonna go over there yourself? Or just wait for her to come to you?”

Eddie drags both hands down his face and slides further down the couch, his hair splaying out against the cushion behind him. 

“I don’t know if I should go over there. It might piss her off or something. But this not talking shit, or at least knowing we’re not doing okay, is eating me alive.”

Wayne glances at him. “I can see that.”

Eddie scoffs, putting a hand to his heart. “Wow, thanks, Wayne. Very helpful.” His words are laced with sarcasm. 

“Listen kid, the only way you’re going to figure this out is if you communicate with each other. You’re not gonna solve any problems sulking like this. She feels things differently than you do, and you’re just going to have to learn how to navigate it.”

Eddie knows it’s true. He’s gotten a lot more open as he’s grown, knowing he could talk to Wayne about whatever, whenever. He just needs to learn you like he’s learned himself. If you want, that is. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Eddie stands. He pulls the door open, bending at the waist. He’s bowing. “Thank you, Wayne the Wise.”

————

You’re pacing your room. Sure, it’s only been a day or something, but you don’t like feeling like this. Feeling like something is wrong. Knowing that it is and you don’t exactly know how to repair things. 

And that voice keeps telling you that you never should have made friends with Eddie in the first place. It won’t leave you alone. 

Without thinking, you pick up the phone. The voice that answers is not the one you’d assumed would, but you can’t lie: you’re relieved. 

“Wayne?”

“Hey, sweetie. Need somethin’?”

You choke up, and you can’t even explain why. You hope he doesn’t catch it. 

“Uh, yeah. Is Eddie home?”

Wayne clears his throat. “No, hon’ I’m afraid not. He’s got Hellfire tonight. I’m about to head out for work.”

“Oh, okay. Do you know what time he’s usually finished, maybe?”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he responds. “‘Round ten, I think? He tries to be mindful that the kids might have to get rides home.”

“Thank you, Wayne. I appreciate that.”

“Mhm. Anytime, kiddo. You need anything else, you let me know, okay?”

“I will, promise.” 

When he hangs up, you start shaking your hands out, trying to keep yourself stable. If you’re really going to do this, you need to calm down. You take a few breaths, in and out, in and out. If you don’t, you’re either going to cry or panic. There’s a marginal risk for both. 

You snatch your keys up from where they were tossed on your desk, shove your feet into a pair of shoes, and make the short trip outside and to your car. 

You start it and drive out of the trailer park. Your hands are shaking. 

What if this doesn’t work out? What if you really, truly fucked up, and Eddie’s realized that you are too much trouble, that he doesn’t need you in his life? That he has other friends, better friends, and that there will always be someone better than you? 

You’re sure he’d be fine without you. You’re not sure you can say the same.

It starts to rain.

When you pull into the Hawkins High parking lot, you run through the memory you have of its layout before you stop the car. You get as close to the exit nearest the drama room as you can, hoping you’ll be able to spot the group when they come out. 

It’s pouring now, and you start to think that this really was a shitty idea. Eddie might not even want to see you. You shove that down because if you keep thinking that way you’re going to make yourself sick.

You have to look out of the passenger side window to see the door. It’s raining too hard to see much else, though every once in a while there’s a crack of lightning that illuminates the entire school for you. 

You’re just about to wonder if you’ve missed them, or if it’s running later than usual, when the doors fly open and kids flood out, hoods pulled over their heads as they run to the cars you watched pull up. Only one of them has an umbrella, a boy with curly hair, and he holds it above his and two other boys’ heads. 

You get increasingly nervous, watching the group of people. People you realize are Eddie’s friends, all in their matching t-shirts. Only when the cars start to leave, when most of the students are gone, do you see a familiar face. 

Eddie. He stands underneath the oning, hands fishing around in his pockets for keys while he glances up at the storm. He has a bag slung over his shoulder, and you can see him contemplating his best move. This is your chance. 

You push the car door open and rush out. The slam it makes as it closes catches Eddie’s attention. He looks in your direction, brows raising in surprise. 

“Eddie!”

He realizes you’re getting soaked and rushes to meet you halfway. You’re insane, and he’s not mad about it.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, yelling over the rain, bangs starting to stick to his forehead. 

“I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t know it was going to rain.”

Eddie laughs then. Full on. He tosses his head back and clutches his chest. “I didn’t know it was going to either.”

You frown at him. “Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

Oh shit, he thinks. You want to talk to him. He locks eyes with you. 

“I’m not good with this, with being open, and I don’t know how to do it. And you want me to, but I guess I need you to help me.” You drag your hands across your face, pushing water from your eyelashes.

“I want your help, Eddie. I want you.”

Eddie coughs, and you can’t tell if it’s the rain or not. Really it’s because he can’t believe you just said that. 

“What?” he exclaims, yelling over the rush of rain and wind. 

“You didn’t hear me?” You’re slightly confused. 

“Oh, I heard you.” Eddie takes a step toward you. He’s inches from you now. “I need you to say it again.”

You look at him, his cheeks flushed pink, his hair matted down and sticking to everything. You’re worried he’s got paper in that bag and it’s going to get ruined. His shirt is wet enough now that you can see his necklace underneath, the outline of his chest. 

You reach forward and push his bangs out of his eyes. 

“I want you too, Eddie. I just need help.”

Before you can even comprehend it, Eddie’s hands are on the side of your neck and pushing into your hair. He’s never looked as serious as he does now; his brow furrowed, completely and utterly concentrated on you. For a second you feel like you’re the only person in the world. And you have Eddie Munson’s attention. 

He kisses you. It’s soft at first, curious, but still full of meaning. His mouth is warm and soft against yours. Only when you kiss back does he get a little firmer, a little more insistent. 

You’re both totally wet now, the rain having soaked through every inch of clothing. You’re sure you’ll feel absolutely miserable after being in this weather. But you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing you like he is. 

Your hands find his collarbones, fingers trailing up and into his hair. When you realize how difficult that is to accomplish, you remember it’s fucking raining. You pull away.

Eddie groans like he can’t believe you’d deprive him of that. 

“I’m really fucking sorry, Eddie.”

“I know, sweetheart.” His hands haven’t left your face. His thumbs are stroking your cheeks. “And I’m sorry for yelling at you like I did. I just got frustrated, and—”

“And I need to let you in. I know. I want to.”

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be patient. I want to help.”

“I know, Eddie. I want to try.”

He smiles brilliantly at you, the kind that starts slow and expands enough to light up his eyes, make you feel like you’re in on some big, beautiful secret.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” 

————

You drive home separately to get changed, but as soon as you’re dry, you slip into pajamas and right back at the door. 

You run across the sandy road with a little overnight bag in your hand, and Eddie had clearly been waiting for you because he stands with the door open, laughing at your insistence on getting there quickly. 

When he shuts it behind you, he’s still giggling. You smack the back of your hand lightly against his stomach.

“Nice pj’s, Munson.”

He grins. “Thank you.” Eddie’s got on a shirt that has a concerning amount of holes in it, and Garfield pajama pants. “I could say the same to you.”

Your pajamas are about the same level of ratty that his are. You stick your tongue out at him, but he only smiles. He’s happy that you’re here. 

It’s late. “You wanna go to bed?” Eddie asks, leaning forward. 

“Yes, please.”

“Good. C’mon.” He turns around and you hook your fingers in the waistband of his pants. He turns around to look, but only laughs and keeps walking. 

The carpeted in the hallway is soft on your feet, worn in, but comforting nonetheless. Eddie shuts his door behind you and takes your bag from you, setting it on the floor beside his bed.

You sit down on the edge, suddenly feeling very uneasy. 

“What’s the matter?” Eddie’s looking down at you, his hands tying his hair up into a loose bun at the base of his neck. 

“I just—do we have to talk about all my feelings tonight?”

He smiles at you. “No, baby. We can do that tomorrow. Take it one step at a time, right? We’ll work through it together, yeah?”

You nod at him. “Okay.”

“Now, lay down for me, okay?”

You feel yourself warm up, but you do as he says. His sheets are cool under your legs, his pillows surprisingly soft.

Eddie gets in after you, but doesn’t slide down into bed yet. 

“Listen, I think we need to snuggle, alright?” You snort, but he keeps going, fighting a laugh of his own. “Do you want to be the little spoon? Or can I? Or do you want to do something else?”

You start to smile at him, a slow, Cheshire cat grin. 

“You wanna be the little spoon? Please?”

Eddie chuckles, and it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. “Hell yeah I do.”

He flips onto his side, back facing you. You scoot over and tuck yourself against him, slinging your arm around his side and over his stomach. He’s smiling, utterly content.

You slip your hand under his shirt so that it rests against the soft of his belly. You giggle into his back, clearly pleased with yourself, and Eddie raises his head. 

“Happy?”

“Very much so.”

He pushes up onto his elbow. “Kiss?”

“Sure.”

You plant one on him. And another. He smiles into the third. 

“That good?” You ask.

“Spectacular.”

You both settle in, and you find yourself burying your face in between his shoulder blades. You find it to be extremely comfortable. Eddie smiles to himself at your eagerness. 

At some point, Eddie grabs hold of your hand where it lays on his tummy, and you throw your leg over his hip. He doesn’t mind.

He’s never felt safer.

You’ve never felt more reassured, like you’re safe to let him in. And you know he won’t push you away.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @ajkamins @golddustwitches @copycatkillerfics @prestinalove @zaypay @clovermunson @kelsiegrin @storiesbyrhi @avalon-wolf

[b1adie]

ur katpee raturine post is making me wonder if aventurine and ratio would even survive the hunger games ? u should become president bladie and host one

I WAS PUTTING A BUNCH OF CHARACTERS IN THAT HUNGER GAMES SIMULATOR SITE RECENTLY

here are some highlights. furthermore, i rambled (huge surprise i know)

anyways i love hunger games AUs (i love when characters suffer and die) so i will definitely spend a long time considering this. ive fully written out several with ocs. my first fandom was the hunger games ok i read all three books 11 times so now i have to ponder everything forever

i think aventurine would do really well with getting sponsorships and all that. well liked by the capitol. kind of a finnick type of guy. ratio i feel like wouldnt be as well liked, but still have a decent amount of sponsors since he’s strong and very smart so he’s got higher odds of winning.

okay wait they do kind of have peeta and katniss vibes like not THAT much but the crowd-pleasing good at acting guy and the NOT crowd-pleasing guy who is skilled in survival and not great at acting but unfortunately has to play along with blonde mans act to get ahead. i can see ratio doing that thing katniss did with shooting the arrow at the people supposed to be judging her and sarcastically bowing and going Thank You. For your Consideration. but i suppose he just throws a chalk.

i think a lot of people would want to ally with ratio but he would reject them. makes no sense if they’ll just have to kill each other later. aventurine.. hmm. well like i said he’s well-liked by the capitol which means he’s probably not as liked by the tributes, and considering he doesnt like to show his hand (haha card reference) he wouldnt have shown any skills he has, so no one would particularly have any incentive to ally with him. but. Ough. well. kakavasha. if we made them separate like in the quest and kakavasha was one of the kids that got reaped for the games. well lets not think about that too much or i’ll get sad

ultimately considering aventurine’s luck etc i think he’d make it pretty far and if he DID die it wouldn’t be an accident or a surprise, he’d have set himself up for it to either allow someone else a win, OR spare himself a more gruesome/painful death later. if ratio died i think it’d be an accident. i dont think anyone could actually kill him in a fight, but he could get caught or hit by a trap or he tried to be smart and go out to the edge of the arena but hit the barrier and got zapped. like i feel like it’d have to be somethign small, ONE thing he happened to overlook. but i think it’s obvious neither of them is winning alone. they win together or they both die OR aventurine deliberately sets himself up to die at the very end so ratio is declared the victor. i think that one is pretty likely and hurts in the best way so lets go with that one alright? aventurine eats some poisonous shit or smth in secret and ratio thinks they’re going to find a way to win together until aventurine is like. actively dying and admits what he did. Lol. 😆

[kafus]

if you ever feel up to it, i'd love to hear how you got the mew. hearing stories about people and their pokemon is really fun.

SOMEONE TOOK THE BAIT LET'S GOOO i wanted to talk about thisSDFFDKS

anyway i got my hadou mew through basically a miracle encounter - back in 2020 i was buying a lot of older pokemon games to fill holes in my collection, either games i never owned or games that i lost over the years from childhood, and as for my missing gen 3 games, i ended up going for japanese copies of firered and sapphire instead of english because having foreign carts is neat but mostly they're just a lot cheaper. buying secondhand pokemon games is always fun because often times the seller doesn't wipe or even check the save file and especially if the save file has a lot of playtime, they're like time capsules from a stranger right. so both games come in and the sapphire has nothing interesting but i'm perusing the boxes of this firered and uhhh

LMAO my initial reaction says it all, i literally just found this thing on a completely random firered cart i bought! it was not advertised to have mew in it on the ebay listing, in fact the seller i bought from sells a LOT of imported japanese pokemon games (and other gba titles) so i imagine he just has a pile of these and he picked out a random one to mail me without so much as checking what was on it.

of course mythical pokemon on gen 3 carts are dubious, it's not like it's particularly hard to gameshark a mythical pokemon, especially considering that i've gotten a secondhand file before with shit like a box full of Deoxys caught at level 2 on the first route in hoenn LOL... so i was pretty serious about checking for legality on this thing as best i could - backed up the save file and inspected it in pkhex, all data was 100% accurate to the event and also reasonable RNG wise, like normal random IVs and stuff... checked for archived versions of this event mew, none of them were identical to online injectable ones, which means the owner couldn't have downloaded and injected it... and most of all, context clues

here's ancient pictures of this mew traded to my english leafgreen so it's readable for everyone - i had not done anything with this mew yet so it's completely untouched from how i found it here. we can tell from looking at this that whoever owned this mew was training it with the exp share as its still holding it and is level 23 despite being met at level 10, and the moveset... solarbeam, mega punch, dragon claw?? very random moveset that i can only imagine a child using. this mew looks like it was played with by its owner legitimately. additionally not shown here, the firered cart had a lot of playtime and like 2/3 of the dex complete, the boxes were full of pokemon that the owner had been breeding and a few unhatched eggs, like i hatched one and it was a completely normal eevee so they may have been getting extra eevees for pokedex purposes etc.

basically i cannot 100% confirm this mew was obtained legitimately without teleporting back in time and getting that japanese movie preorder bonus myself, but there is literally nothing strange about this mew and the save file it comes from is well loved and appeared to be played by a child doing normal pokemon stuff. so for all intents and purposes, this mew is definitely legit to me. actually insane happenstance. i have never gotten anything this crazy from a secondhand file before

think of it this way. some japanese kid in 2005 preorders a pokemon movie > he goes to the store to redeem it for a mew in person. in 2005. in japan. > he plays with the mew a bit > at some point he stops playing pokemon > he sells the game to some random american seller after never wiping the save or removing the mew > the american seller buys jp pokemon games in bulk to resell on ebay so he has a ton of them and probably doesn't check them for what's on them or the old save files > when i order it from this random ebay listing, the american seller picks a random fire red cartridge out of his bulk stash and mails it to me > it ends up in my hands 15 years later after the kid first got this mew

like holy shit it's a small fucking world huh

another old convo from the RM discord because i'm nostalgic about it, i had just started talking here at the time... i'm gonna be honest the ribbon master challenge and the people i met through it genuinely changed my life and this mew came into my life at the perfect time so it means a lot to me on top of being insanely cool

anyways i went on about that longer than necessary but yeah bless my mew i love him

[justsomerandomplanet]

[ jjk 261 spoilers ]

just rambling thoughts about the chapter now that ive Actually read it (thank u tcb and also i wish ppl who post about leaks without tags a very can you Stop and tag thanks)

tldr; i dont hate the chapter, its an interesting one! feel free to discuss with me if u would like

I don't actually hate the chapter conceptually

Ideologically, Uraume has brought up the topic of being human and the fact to be strong/to defeat sukuna you must disregard that obsession of loneliness/humanity. I also think at the end of the day, it speaks a lot about how jujutsu society functions (in that it uses people regardless of respecting them as people, i.e. the star plasma vessels, children as sorcerers facing death constantly, etcetc).

Nevertheless, I do wonder why Yuta had to do it. At the end of the day I still believe Yuji will be the one to defeat Sukuna, you cannot tell me all that build up to him is for Nothing, but what point is there in bringing Yuta in that case? If he just does more damage and then dies (lol), like. What is there to it. Like in the perspective of the characters i get it, they don't know if they'll win or lose and they're gonna have to use every option they have, but simply on a readers perspective, it feels a bit redundant. I just feel there should be a way to incorporate this idea without it feeling like we'll get gojo v sukuna 2.0. Idk i just want yuji to beat sukuna like that first page was so cool :(!!!!

Anyway, the idea of bringing back Gojo similar to how "Toji" was revived in shibuya is also unbelievable bc Gojo himself is shown to still want to protect the kids. His ideology derives from making sure They Are Alive And Changing The System. Yes, I get it he is battle obsessed too (see the shinjuku battle) but it doesn't change he went out of his way to tell them not to look/follow him for what he's about to do with the higher ups. Theory wise, gojo being brought back like this is dull (but plausible i suppose) (also thinking about it would that Really be gojo? We saw that toji still didnt come back normal, and wasnt it stated that the toji that did come back was more of just the memories of the body rather than the person himself? Idk. Anyway)

Additionally, Yuta, altho caring for Gojo, is still falling back to the mentality that made Gojo alone (the "Strongest" vs Gojo Satoru). Yuta himself wanting to sacrifice his humanity so everything Gojo did wouldn't be moot while still using his body, which inherently disrespects him as a person, is a hyprocritical and flawed way of thinking that makes him interesting for me now lmao. He cares for him a lot, but he has to resort to it as a means to an end. Also I don't care if he dies, in fact the idea of him living while still in gojo is just weird tbh so i really dont see a way put of that? Im kinda just interested to see what happens tbh

I'll be real; I can see both points in how ppl think this is a cool chapter vs ppl thinking it sucks. It is surprising how very Neutral I am on this bc I personally feel like the explanations given made sense to me in the chapter.

I don't think this took away from Yuta's character, nor did it take away from what we've seen before; Yuta is not Yuuji. Yuta has shown that he can kill people. He only sparred Uro and Ryu bc of the rule to be able to transfer points. He admits that he "cheated" in the past month. Yuta is very aware of what decisions are wrong but still does them bc its for the best outcome, even if it means losing his own humanity. Yuta wants the best for Gojo but still looks at it in a flawed way. Yuta is unknowingly falling into Sukuna's/Uraume's ideology.

Yuuji is the only one so far in the series that continues to be filled with regret from killing and still wants to do better. He is forced to dissociate his self-identity to cope with his actions. He has said he would eat anything to defeat Sukuna, effectively throwing his humanity, but does not do so at the expense of other ppl (see Yuji's conversation with Higuruma before shinjuku). Yuji looked past Gojo's infinity so he could give encouragement, even tho everyone else was afraid. Yuji is the antithesis to Sukuna's view of the world

Yuta is not Yuji, and I think that's the point.

I don't think one is better than the other, I simply find this contrast to be interesting when u look at it in the grander theme of change and tradition within jujutsu society.