#narrative post

[coralcalypso]

[S] Story's Over

==>

[verzephobia-red]

01

The world is broken.

Fragments of things both familiar and unfamiliar tumble and shift in hypnotizing waves, stitched together into a dissonant, orderless patchwork. Houses deconstructed into slices of roof, window, and wall. Bottomless pieces of ground floating in midair. Random letters and numbers, scattered—or arranged?—in nonsensical patterns.

The cheerful background music from years past is long gone. Only silence remains. But somehow, you can't shake the feeling that this is somewhere you used to know.

"......"

In the eye of the storm stands a familiar figure, unmistakable even with their back to the screen. Red jacket, black hair, red cap pulled low over their face. The pixels collide and re-form around them, like planets orbiting an indifferent sun.

"......?"

"ⱳħꝋ'ꞩ tħeɍe?"

The figure turns. Where a face should have been, there is only a mass of dark, corrupted pixels. It seemed to be moving, swirling slowly inward like a black hole—or was that just another trick of the light?

"........."

Their intact hand moves involuntarily towards their waist, the empty space where Poke Balls used to be. The other, overtaken by the same glitched particles, tilts their hat towards the viewer's general direction in greeting.

"ⱳełl, iӻ yoᵾ'ɍe not goiꞥg to iꞥtroduce yoursełӻ, I'm not goiꞥg to ⱳait alł day."

"It'ꞩ ƀeen a łong time since I've seen someoꞥe łike that."

"I'm RED."

RED is now open to questions.

[blueeyesking]

Pegasus Returns?! Duel, Kaiba-Boy! Pt. 1

[Seto and Mokuba fly over the island Maximillion Pegasus calls home, Duelist Kingdom, in the Blue-Eyes Jet. Seto is piloting.

"I can't believe we're visiting Duelist Kingdom again," Seto mutters, with clear disdain.

"Yeah," Mokuba adds, "It's got nothing but bad memories..."

"I'll make this quick, so that we don't have to be here very long." Seto assures Mokuba. They land shortly thereafter.

The Kaibas are silent as they approach the darkened entrance hall. It's eerily empty.

"Do you think anyone even still works here...? I mean, Pegasus is supposed to be dead!" Mokuba remarks. "If it really is him, we'll put him in the ground for good this time!"

Seto nods, but doesn't verbally reply.

It's not long until they come to a large room, too high up to see its floor in the dim, with their walkway suddenly cut off with a drop into the pit. Seto has to grab Mokuba's arm to keep the younger boy from walking right off the edge, as he's preoccupied looking around the room; Mokuba's fear of that near-death experience has him clinging to Seto.

"PEGASUS! Enough fooling around; show yourself!"

On the other side of the room, across the gap, Maximillion Pegasus appears from the darkened hallway, laughing to himself. He's just as the boys remember him.

"Just as annoying as always," Seto mutters.

"Oh, Kaiba-boy, where's the love? We've been through so much together! Aren't you happy to see me, after so long~?"

Seto grimaces, mirroring Mokuba's expression beside him. The younger is the first to respond.

"Shut up, Pegasus! We're not here to catch up with a low-life like you!! My bro is here to duel you, so you leave us alone for good!"

"Ohhh~? And what have I done to earn so much ire from you, boys~?"

The Kaibas grit their teeth. Seto responds this time.

"It's a long list. But you know why we're here now: you've been buying up my company's shares like cheap candy." Seto points dramatically at Pegasus.

"Not to mention- you're the only other person who could possibly have scared the world with those monster holograms."

"Is that so~? You boys know that my little arenas aren't nearly as advanced as your Solid Vision... are you sure you aren't just blaming me to hide your own responsibility for it? Maybe you're just scared about those monsters being real, hmm~?" Pegasus chuckles to himself, raising his arms in a caricature of a shrug and shaking his head. It really pisses Seto off.

"AS IF! Everything has an explanation, and monsters being real is impossible!"

Mokuba, however, picks up on something else in Pegasus's response.

"What do you mean, our responsibility for all of this?? We already told everyone KC's instruments had nothing to do with it!"

Pegasus continues to chuckle, lowering his arms. As always, he's condescending to his opponents.

"I'll tell you if your big brother can beat me in a Duel, Mokuba-boy~. But don't forget what happened last time you dueled me... and how you lost your souls~!"

Seto growls, clenching his fist, then takes a breath to steady himself.

"I don't want to hear it- you're just reminding us of old humiliations to try and rile me up before the Duel, so that I'll make mistakes. It won't work."

"That's old news, Pegasus- like you should be!" Seto brandishes his Duel Disk, and it activates, pieces swiftly moving into its Duel-ready position.

Pegasus gives them a hearty laugh, then spreads his arms in front of him. "You're right- it's time for the rematch of the century!"]

[fog-and-isolation]

"You know," Elias said when Salome entered his office the next morning. He sat behind his desk, not looking up from the papers in his hands; "for a being of all-consuming grief, you hate a lot of people."

"Save it." Salome brushed a hand through her dark hair streaked through with white as she sat in one of the two chairs opposite Elias's heavy mahogany desk.

Elias set his papers aside and gestured to Salome. "Case in point. If you'll indulge my curiosity for a moment, why do you resent me so much? You're obviously bitter about your uncle and your upbringing, and I would think that would manifest in a rebellious approval of me, given his own opinions regarding my person."

"Let's just get this over with," Salome insisted.

Elias hummed. "Very well. Now, about the..."

[graviconscientia]

>You've finished your business, did what you promised you'd do. It didn't fix you like you had hoped. Frankly, it now leaves you feeling worse. You can only hope you satisfied like you thought you did- at least one person will be happy with what you've done.

>Now, though, you feel frenetic, wild, desperate. If doing the one thing you have always been sure of- being a generous lover- cannot help you, then what can? What can?

>You hold your blouse a little closer to you, wishing you could feel sparks in the other hand, wishing you could feel something better than this. Lonely and frustrated and needing something you can't quite figure out. Pacing in your bedroom will not help. Pacing in the forest would be no better...

>A glance, to the flowers you bought, beautiful in a blue vase, a tether to this life for the moment. They should make you happy. You should look at them and think of every wonderful feeling you could have. You should be thrilled with the warmth they bring, the reminder they serve. And yet, you don't.

>The business card you received hasn't been discarded. It needs to be. A step to the desk, a lifting of the card, then a turnover once, twice... You rub it between your fingers, the violet ink refusing to smudge, and you keep thinking to toss it. But you don't. And so it lays on the desk once again, next to the vase, just as it was.

>Perhaps, if your bedroom can't help, if the forest won't help, you'll try the ocean. As you grab a jacket and head out the main door, your good hand leaving the handle, you idly wonder if you'll find the man whose name is on the card there. You wonder, too, if you should want that.

[manorpunk]

(part three)

Tucked away in a sleepy corner of central Michigan, an abandoned mall had been transformed into the town of Webersberg. The crumbling ceiling above the concourses had been stripped, making a cluster of closely-packed buildings, and the expansive walkways exposed to the elements were now lined with trees and raised gardens. The empty boutiques had been repurposed into dormitories, offices, a clinic, a school, and a few simple stores. There was something humbling about it, like a medieval village sheltered beneath the ruins of a Roman basilica. One might wonder if the mall was happier now in its new incarnation, if it preferred to be filled with life rather than than gold.

Liam did not wonder. He lived there, and he found it stultifying. He hated living in a fishbowl, always going to the same places with the same people, few of whom cared to give him the time of day. He hated knowing that there was a whole world out there and he was stuck out in the manors[1]. He hated the maudlin isolation of being the only queer kid who hadn’t gotten the hell out of Webersberg, and most of all he hated knowing that he could get out too if he wasn’t a coward.

He had this conversation with himself every morning, and he knew that if he stayed in bed he’d just keep moping. He got up from his creaky mattress and turned toward the plywood dresser next to his bed. He took the small mirror that was sitting on top and looked at himself. He was on the pale side of white, with thin shoulders and scruffy black hair.[2] After a failed attempt to smooth down his bed-head, he set the mirror down and pulled out the top drawer of the dresser.

Tucked in the corner of the drawer behind neatly-folded socks and underwear, there was a small bottle of black nail polish that he had picked up from a GLN dole[3] a few months ago. Women usually snatched up all the cosmetics, so he was excited to get something for himself. He had daydreamed about putting it on, but there it sat, unopened and gathering dust.

There was a knock at the door. It was his father, Roy. “Liam! You decent?”

“Gimme a minute,” Liam called back. He grabbed some clothes - jeans and a plain t-shirt, clothing as neutral as water - and threw them on.

“Alright, what’s up?”

His father opened the door, grinning wide. “You good to work at the diner today?”

“It’s Thursday, isn’t it?”

“It sure is, and there’s gonna be a road-and-rail crew[4] stopping by for the day. You know what that means.”

To his dad, it meant money. His dad managed the local Denny’s, which meant that he had tricked himself into believing he was a pillar of the community, and not just another petty grinder.

“It means I’ll get harassed by drunk shitheads all day. Great. Fun,” Liam groaned. He looked at his dad, hoping for something, something like ‘I understand you don’t like it but I need the extra help,’ or ‘sorry to impose on you.’ Liam was only twenty years old and still naive like that.

“So you good to go?” his dad said.

Liam rubbed his forehead. In truth, he really didn’t have much else to do, and didn’t have any friends to hang out with. At least he wouldn’t be alone all day if he was at work. Plus, he kind of liked wearing the apron.

“Fine, whatever,” he said, feeling like he had lost a battle against himself.

The place wasn’t exactly bustling when he got there. It was still morning, and the only people there were a few old couples having breakfast, along with Kieth, the already-high line cook, nursing a cup of coffee.

“Hey dude. You alright?” Kieth asked, following Liam as he went into the kitchen.

“What gave it away?” Liam sighed.

Kieth shook his head. “I just felt your vibes. You’ve got the sads all around you. Anyway, I got some news I think’ll cheer you up. Guess who’s coming to town?”

Liam tried, but couldn’t even think of a good guess. “Who?”

“Fuckin JMR, dude.”

Liam’s sleepy eyes snapped wide open. He was suddenly breathless with excitement, so excited that his voice got higher and thinner. “Seriously?”

Keith nodded. Liam let out an excited squeak, then heard his father clear his throat behind him. He whirled around, already guessing what was coming, and his beaming smile twisted down into a rebellious frown.

“Now, son. You know how your mom feels about that man.”

“My mom thinks I’ll stop being a fag if I don’t meet other fags,” Liam spat. The words seem to burst out of him, he didn’t say them so much as he failed to keep them bottled up.

“Whoa, that’s heavy,” Kieth said.

“Kieth, shut up. Liam, listen. It’s not like that. It’s for your own protection. That man is a creep and a pervert, he-“

“God, spare me,” Liam huffed. He had finally run out of patience. His body trembled with adrenaline and pent-up anger, and it felt intoxicatingly good. “It’s all about ‘toughening me up’ and ‘making me a man’ until there’s another gay person around and then suddenly I need to be ‘protected.’ Just be honest and say you wish I wasn’t a queer.”

Kieth discreetly sipped his coffee. Roy pursed his lips and took deep, silent breaths. As far as Liam was concerned, it was an admission of guilt.

“Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Liam said.

“Hark!” A voice suddenly boomed from the dining area. It was a deep, smooth, commanding voice, the type of voice fit for a starship captain.

A man had just entered the Denny’s, a man with tan skin and dirty blond hair dressed in deliriously fancy clothing. He wore an aristocratic embroidered blue jacket with epaulets, tall black boots with stiletto heels, and form-fitting white riding pants of the style sometimes known as jodhpurs. His hair, soft and well-cared for even from a distance, was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and a short and neatly trimmed beard lined his face. Hitched to his belt, an ornate saber rested in its scabbard. He looked like an old cavalry officer or Prussian aristocrat who had somehow stumbled into the year 206X, and his name was Jacob Martin Rider - JMR for short.

○○○○○

[1] ‘The manors’ is a slang term for rural areas which are generally too distant and sparsely-populated to be under the full purview of the central state authority; places where heaven is high and the emperor is far away, cf. The sticks, the boonies, the peasants, etc.

[2] You didn’t hear it from us but he looks a little like the doomer boy wojak.

[3] The ‘GLN dole’ refers to the Global Logistics Network’s practice of buying up unwanted consumer goods from distributors and distributing it amongst the manors. This effectively acts as a subsidy for (GLN-owned) distributors and lets them pretend that they’re still serious about wealth redistribution. Everyone involved wins and the GLN is duly thanked for its beneficence.

[4] Road-and-rail crews are itinerant laborers sent off to the middle of nowhere to dig up disused highways and lay down new railroad lines, hence the name. The work is physically demanding and socially isolating, but well-compensated. They have the typical reputation one would expect of itinerant laborers, i.e. drunken trouble-making shitkickers.

[miyos-multiverse-express]

Audio Diary - March 3rd, 2010

Your name is Hamasaki Miyo, sort of, and you have a headache. Thank... someone for Ren sending over painkillers.

... Can I say something?

Floor's yours.

Okay. Uh. I'm Minato Yuuki and I'm not sure I can bring myself to stay in Iwatodai much longer?

Too many bad memories?

Yeah. Yeah. Even if everyone could remember - I'm not sure I want to stay and. If they remember, I don't think I can? At least - I don't want to do that to you guys. It wouldn't be fair. This whole situation isn't fair, this - ughhhhhhhhhh.

I know what you mean, yeah.

Kagami of all people does.

... Yeah, you're right. We'll... We'll figure it out somehow. I won't force you to live my life.

Thanks, for what it's worth.

[communitycatboy]

Burnout

the campaign at Paglth'an may have been a success, but for G'ohak, who had been assisting with triage, the endless supply of injuries to heal was exhausting having used so much of his own aether to be extremely faint, his legs could barely even support him. Thankfully someone strong offered to carry him to his bed, but will the miqo'te be able to repay that kindness?

[wardensantoineandevka]

is that piece of media actually bad, or is it just not following the blueprint you projected onto it? is that work actually not good, or are you just demanding something from it that is absolutely antithetical to its themes, genre, tone, and narrative goal? is that story actually poorly written, or do you just dislike that it is not the specific things you wanted from it that it never set out to be, never was, and never is going to become? is it actually bad, or is it actually well-executed and you just dislike the story it chose to be because it isn't catering to your specific desires and expectations?

[mag200]

one thing about orpheus and eurydice is you guys are all like “i’m different i wouldnt turn to look at her” because you are all familiar with the story of orpheus and eurydice. but orpheus wasnt familiar with the story because he was in it lol.

[meltedmush]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! WELCOME 2025!!

[coralcalypso]

> Sefoni: Be Spirited Away.

As the light faded Sefoni wretched herself out of the arms of the imposter and staggered backwards. The first thing that she noticed was the light, the trio of suns hung over them like a portent of death. Her breathing grew rapid as she looked around to see they were miles above the planet's surface.

The imposter stepped forward, holding both hands up as he spoke in a voice that didn't belong to him. "Sorry about that Seffy, I wanted to ta-" He was cut off by a rock thrown in his direction.

"TAKE ME BACK!"

He tsked softly as the rock whizzed by his head, taking another step forward. "Come on now, we can talk about this like adults. There is no need to act out like this."

She backed up again as she drew her trident once again, "I don't need to listen to you, I just want to go back!" He threw his arms into the air in frustration as another pair formed from water behind him, there was a moment of pause as he realized what he had available to him.

"If the water responds to will…" He smiled at the realization and gestured out towards her, "I see I understand now, you're probably just confused about who I am, I'm certain we can clear the air. I'm sorry about stealing your friend's body by the way." The water began to swirl and pool in front of him as an aquatic double of his true form stood before them both. Whatever result he expected, Sefoni seemed to take it particularly poorly as she rushed forward to jab at him.

He exhaled, running a hand down the side of his face. This was not how this was suppose to go but it's fine, he can work with this! "Okay obviously you're in a bad mood, let's just try to calm down?"

More aquatic doubles began to form to try to grab a hold of her, mobbing her until she was caught in a semi solid mass of water. Sefoni continued to thrash and shriek obscenities as she tried to reach him, stabbing her trident into the ground to pull herself out of the mass. His brows did raise, visibly impressed until he realized that she was charging straight for him. Throwing both sets of arms into the air he called out.

"Oh for the love of—Would you just STOP!"

A choked noise escaped her lips as she fell to the ground, shocked gasping out as she struggled to move only to find her limbs did not listen. That shock was shared as he looked down at his hands then back up at her, stepping forward to kneel down beside her. "Don't… Don't look at me like this, this is for your own good. This could have been avoided if you listened." He tucked some of her hair back behind as the glow in her eyes began to dim. "Let's see if we can talk things out when you wake up."

[verzephobia-red]

02

Light from a nonexistent sun filters down over the warped landscape. The world itself remains as dark and broken as ever—but something feels different. The status quo has shifted; the long-maintainted balance has been irrevocably tipped.

The Poké Ball in the Trainer’s grip is made of crisp red and white, out of place amidst the turbulence. It’s as perfect and unblemished as it was the day RED recieved it from the lab. The same as it had been while battling. Travelling. Seeking glory. Going on an adventure together, invincible with the knowledge that no tragedy could possibly happen. Not to them, the protagonist—the eternal hero of the story.

But everything else is gone now. Only RED and the Poké Ball remain, the way it had been at the start of the game.

Their hold on the device tightens to the point of pain, the pixels that make up their hand deforming and breaking apart from the pressure.

“…can’t hold off of this forever, can I…?”

The Poké Ball opens, separating neatly to release its customary beam of reddish light. They can’t stop themself from shaking—in anticipation, fear, or something else entirely—as a shape gradually coalesces into existence in front of them. 

“……”

Four legs. Triangular ears. Something branched and plantlike protruding from its back. It looks whole. It looks like their old partner, their first friend, the way it remains in their memory before… everything else. It’s still Venusaur. It has to be…

… until the light inevitably fades away.

“………”

Venusaur’s ball drops from RED’s hand, sinking through the corrupted ground. Grief and hope, every shred of feeling they’ve been burying inside for so long, rush out of them all at once in a single, choked breath.

Nothing remains of what it used to be except for bits and pieces. A misshapen, many-eyed skull. A tangle of what could’ve been wings or scythes in place of its tree. The broken parts of countless skeletons, joined together into a hollow mockery of life. Scraps of green-gray still cling to it, slowly disintegrating into dust.

RED stumbles forward blindly, falling to their knees before the remains of their companion, reaching out as if seeking some kind of solace…

The corpse falls apart with the slightest touch, collapsing into a heap of mangled bones.

[blueeyesking]

Not a Rematch- a Duel for Revenge! Alister Revealed Pt. 2

[After Seto accused the person Dueling him of not being Pegasus- "Even [he] wouldn't be stupid enough to copy our first duel to the letter!"- the Musketeer of Doma, Alister, removed his disguise and began using his real deck. For his first draw, Alister sealed himself and Seto inside of the Seal of Orichalcos, a field spell that would take the "soul" of whoever lost. It terrified Mokuba, who was left outside of its radius of effect.

After demonstrating the effect of the Seal and his new monster, Alister launches into a long explanation of his story, why he's chosen to attack Seto and his company: when KaibaCorp was still controlled by Gouzaburo, their weapons of war destroyed Alister's home... and killed his little brother. Since that day, Alister has wanted nothing but revenge.

Mokuba countered that Seto took the company to redeem it, to help people, orphan children like them most of all! But Alister wouldn't hear it. Seto Kaiba, or whoever lead the Kaiba Corporation, had to die; it was the money of the company that fueled the war that killed his brother, and the Kaibas are its heirs.

And so the Duel continued.

Alister activated a trap that disabled all other Traps while it was on the field, crippling Seto's strategy, and forced Seto to end his turn with only Pitch-Dark Dragon in Defense Mode and a useless Crush Card Virus on his field.

Alister's turn. He drew, then attacked the Pitch-Dark Dragon with Gorlag, his ace monster, using its effect to resurrect the Dragon and bring it to his side of the field in his end phase; and, without any defenses, attacked Seto with his own resurrected Versago the Destroyer. Seto's LP fell to 400.

Seto was in a bad position. He needed just one card in his deck to eke out the win...

And he drew it. Seto smirked.

Seto plays Card of Demise in order to draw three cards (bringing his hand to five), and draws a combo that should work. Using White Dragon Ritual, Seto discards a Blue-Eyes in order to directly summon Paladin of White Dragon- then plays Monster Reborn to bring that Blue-Eyes back onto his field. A much better position.

Paladin of White Dragon attacks the stolen Pitch-Dark Dragon (now in Attack Mode due to Gorlag's effect), causing Gorlag to become weak enough to be destroyed with Blue-Eyes White Dragon. When the dust settles, Alister is left defenseless, now, with only 1200 LP.

But Seto isn't done! Paladin of White Dragon can be sacrificed in order to Special Summon a Blue-Eyes White Dragon from his hand or deck! Seto crosses his arms in front of his chest as he is flanked by his Blue-Eyes.

"You told me before that I couldn't win- how do those words taste, knowing the worst is yet to come?"

Alister's turn. He huffs at Seto, "You're so predictable," and uses Pot of Greed to draw two cards.

Then, Alister activates the spell card Aetonyx Flame, destroying all monsters that don't have the FIRE-Attribute: both Blue-Eyes White Dragons! And, it resurrects Gorlag in Attack Mode. But Alister has another trick: Fire Whip! Fire Whip returns all monsters destroyed this turn to Alister's side of the field, as FIRE-Attribute monsters (which buff Gorlag by 500ATK each). Seto now faces down his own Blue-Eyes, infused with dark power from the Seal, and a monster just as strong.

Seto is incredulous, panicking a little, and shouts in betrayal, "NO! Those Blue-Eyes are mine, how dare you use them against me?!" Memories of his fateful duel with Yugi, where the same thing happened, flash behind his eyes.

Alister is now the one in the smug posture, smirking. "It's the perfect revenge, isn't it? Soon, I'll use your own favorite monsters to take you down and feed your soul to our God."

Because Alister can't attack the turn he activated Aetonyx Flame. Seto still has a chance. Alister sets a card, and adds, "When you lose this, you'll suffer just like I did at the hands of your father. This will be your last draw!"]

[archerdepartures116]

Ill post this au( inspired by tweet above) i started on my twt on Tumblr too

First part

more comic panels below

Second part

Third part

Fourth part

Shenanigans side extra

this is currently an ongoing series, if this does well here, I will continue posting these in bulk (～￣▽￣)～

feel free to ask me ab this au and give your suggestions!

[loriache]

kabru gets isekai’d