#this is probably how it went down

[thesongistheriver]

Wait. WAIT.

Was George previously Uther’s manservant? Is that why he’s so good at his job and yet is available at short notice to replace Merlin?

Because a hundred percent, Uther would appreciate the world’s most boring man ™ being his manservant. Do the things, joke about brass, rinse and repeat.

So then Uther dies and everyone is like, well we can’t just sack George, that’s unfair. He’s hanging out doing odd jobs and boring/annoying all the servants. Until Merlin goes missing and the steward is all, Praise be! George, you’re on!

[ierofangz]

[technically-human]

Bisexual crisis Crystal edition

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

If I was in a lucid dream with a ghost, I would simply impress them with my blunt rolling skills

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

putting my prediction on record now that the coming decade is going to see the rise of viral-marketed fancy at-home water filtration systems, driving and driven by a drastic reduction in the quality of U.S. tap water (given that we are in a 'replacement era' where our current infrastructure is reaching the end of its lifespan--but isn't being replaced). also guessing that by the 2030s access to drinkable tap water will be a mainstream class issue, with low-income & unstably housed people increasingly forced to rely on expensive bottled water when they can't afford the up-front cost of at-home filtration--and with this being portrayed in media as a "moral failing" and short-sighted "choice," rather than a basic failure of our political & economic systems. really hope i'm just being alarmist, but plenty of this already happens in other countries, and the U.S. is in a state of decline, so. here's praying this post ages into irrelevance. timestamped April 2023

[sableeira]

ode to a failed partnership

[dykedvonte]

I just realized some people are confused about events in the alluded to past in Mouthwashing, particularly about how long the crew has been working together.

The only person who is truly new is Daisuke and it’s why his dynamic with the crew and role in the story is very unique and somewhat distant. Curly didn’t just get Jimmy this job on the Tulpar, he got him the job with the Pony Express. He’s been his copilot for probably a couple of years but still not as long as they’ve been friends. None of them are new with the freight industry, Anya and Swansea especially have been doing this for years, together.

Jimmy is the newest on the regular crew, maybe just a few assignments, but it’s not his first time working with them. I think it’s just something important because this isn’t just one bad mistake that snowballed with giving Jimmy the job. None of them thought Jimmy would do anything, no matter how off-put by him they could’ve been, since he hadn’t done a thing since being there. Generally unpleasantness isn’t a crime and he’d be aware of that.

It was a festering thing and a sort of forced trust they had to give him that he knowingly took advantage of. He was the black sheep and still a wolf under the wool. He expected when he lashed out, that he had been there long enough for it to be looked over completely. Got too comfortable in the space he inserted into and did a lot of damage with his claws when he felt he was going to get shaken out.

[mugiwarah]

Sam: Quit your job.

Sebastian: Why?

Sam: Join my emo band.

[unpersoniverse]

Skén:nen sá:sewh

as promised, here's Precious boy™ getting kissed by Precious wife™ because he deserves all the love in the world :cc

translation: Get home safe

[baejax-the-great]

Really have to assume that anyone saying hector didn't deserve to die the way he did didn't actually read the Iliad

[shima-draws]

Worst feeling ever is when you go to reread a fic you really like and find out it's been deleted. Even WORSE worst feeling ever is checking the author's profile and finding out they've deleted all of their fics entirely

[cometshift]

I am kinda curious now what was Mx Blackrock’s reaction to Subspace’s being poisoned by Medkit

thank you for the interesting ask! her reaction wasnt great

[pineappical]

in light of tedtrent becoming so real, im also jumping on the tedtrent epilogue 😊

there's just no way ted wouldn't keep in touch with the others (and have weekly zoom meetings just like in the christmas special) and I just love the thought of the whole team having reunions once in a while.

and going back to trent's arc in s3, the sunflowers conversation, "And your daughter?" "She's never been happier." I think it could go the same for ted.. we've never really properly saw how henry felt about his dad being in london, it's always other people that told ted his son misses him, who's to say henry would rather see his dad happy because that in turn would make him happy too? he was there to win the whole thing, right? I just know ted’s story isn’t done yet when he still hasn’t learned to let others take care of him in return and who else to pair him with than the man who blew up his career because a man was nice to him (and also because they were so. so cruel for the fakeout tedbecca scenes for that finale) 🥺

I'm no writer so just pretend these are snapshots of a slow burn fic where ted visits london for their team reunion and slowly realizes that trent has a crush on him and they kiss about it 💛

[puppyeared]

is this your card? ♦️♣️♥️♠️ it isnt but you dont wanna hurt his feelings

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

If Jin Ling is bald because WWX cursed Jin Zixuan then why are Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao bald🤔🤔

Jin Ling was always going to be bald, Wei Wuxian's curse was just an accidental prophecy that will haunt Jin Zixuan for exactly one month.

[kiyomitakada]

At last the warehouse is silent except for Light Yagami's wheezing breaths.

Teru stands. His nice shoes are stained with viscera. He has just killed seven people.

He has never particularly cared about victory.

"Mikami," Light gasps out. "Mikami. You did it."

There is the blood of an eighteen-year-old boy splashed on Teru's dress shoes. He's never fired a gun before. He's handled plenty as a prosecutor, of course, typically while cursing the murderers whose fingerprints littered the handles.

"You're not God," Teru says.

"What are—you talking about?" Light manages a smile. It twitches oddly on his face, like a dying butterfly. "We won."

Teru just looks at him. Looks and looks and looks.

He used to wonder what God looked like. It was an idle thought, one only entertained in the depths of night when the sleep medication hadn't quite kicked in yet. He told himself it didn't matter; God was an entity that surpassed shallow things like appearance, and Teru's job was to follow him no matter what. Teru was not like the rest of Demegawa's little cult, who followed God only for the sake of personal safety and money. Teru was righteous. But he had wondered, regardless.

He had never settled on an answer. But Light Yagami, bleeding from the shoulder, brown eyes and manic grin—

Pathetic, Teru thinks. You're pathetic.

"Listen, Mikami," and Light tries to sit up, but hisses through his teeth and props himself awkwardly with one elbow instead. "You've done well. I'll reward you. Anything you want."

"Your watch," Teru says.

"My—what?"

"Your watch."

The boy, before he had been gunned down by Teru's own hand, had thrown a match. Teru has never been the type for schemes, but he knows for certain that whether real or fake, all of the notebooks are now ash.

"No," Light says, clamping his free hand around his wrist instantly. "You can't—it's from my father."

Teru could almost laugh. How nice having a father must have been. How inconsequential.

"I don't care," he says.

It's a fitting choice for a sacred compartment. Something paternal, something time-keeping, something small. It must fit right over Light's pulse point.

"It's not enough," Light tries. "It's—it's a tiny scrap of paper. It could fit ten names at most."

Teru feels his face fall. He can write very, very small, but the idea of the paper running out is terrifying.

Still. It's better than nothing. Perhaps he'll never even write in it. Perhaps he'll keep it on a necklace or frame it on his desk. Teru can do good work without the Death Note, but he cannot go on without God.

"I don't care," he repeats, and strides towards him.

Light flinches. He tries to get up again; his arm fails him, and he starts dragging himself backwards instead. Like a worm, Teru thinks. That's all he is. A worm and a murderer.

"Don't get closer, Mikami," he says, voice cracking with the beginnings of nervous laughter. "I still have—"

Teru punches him in the nose.

Light collapses. Teru very easily slips the watch off his wrist.

The shinigami is cackling.

"You don't know how to unlock it!" Light reaches for him. Teru yanks the watch away from his grasp. The idea of being touched right now is more repulsive than the blood. "I never told anyone!"

"I saw you do it," Teru points out. Just before he'd broken out of his restraints he'd seen Light twisting at the crown of the watch to kill Nate River. Not that it matters much to Teru. If he really wanted the Death Note, all he'd have to do is smash it.

"Ryuk!" Light shrieks. "Stop him!"

Oh, there it is. The appeal to a higher power. But Teru's God loves him, and Light Yagami's false idol does not.

It's almost sympathetic. Teru is not a heartless man. He knows how it feels to be screaming for help that never comes.

"I'm not going to kill you," Teru says, folding the watch carefully and slipping it into his breast pocket. Light stares at him, eyes wild. "You're just misguided."

"How dare you—"

If Teru was more inclined to humor, he might have said One day you'll see the light. As it is, he closes his eyes. A sense of beautiful, serene inner peace descends on him. It was foolish of him to put so much faith in a human voice over the phone, to be honest. Teru knows better now.

This time, he'll get it right. This time he will please the real God.

In the meantime, he might as well spread His word.

Teru rolls his sleeve down. He grabs Light's bare wrist through the fabric and, before Light can pull back: kisses his palm.

A day ago, this would have been reverence. Now it reveals itself as pity.

Light sucks in a breath, sharp, pained. Teru lets go.

"Good luck," he says, and means it.

"Mikami! Where are you g—Mikami!"

Teru does not look back. The shinigami's cackles fade into the distance.

(Teru Mikami dies of unclear multiple system failure ten days later.)

[ @deathnotetober day 18: worship ]