Tumgik
#i was bored and this came out of it
egophiliac · 7 months
Note
I love your take on Crowley!
I know that the early, non-Diasomnia stories aren't really your thing, but are you reading the novels at all?
I have been following some of the fan translations and the second book seems intense! Would love to hear what you think about them.
thank you! 💚💚💚 I'm not really sure why you think I don't like the earlier arcs though, I love pretty much all the characters and their storis! (I think 5 and 1 are my favorite of the past episodes, though 6 infected me with the Shroud brainrot something fierce.) I just...ESPECIALLY love diasomnia. :') but there is room in my heart for all of these dweebs! like, who among us is not just as ride-or-die for Adeuce as they are for us.
Tumblr media
that said, I don't really follow the other adaptations like the manga (aside from a dip-in just to see the new Yuus) or the novels, though I keep meaning to check them out! I do like seeing the differences between the different forms of media, and how certain things get adapted one way or another! but alas, time/a lack of accessibility stands in our way more often than not. :( someday...someday I will have time to consume all of the media...
1K notes · View notes
dorkfruit · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
but everything's just come together at last /:
739 notes · View notes
amphibianwitch · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
YEAHHH OC DESIGNS BABEY!!!!! OK SO LIKE THESE PPL ARE LIKE THE MAGIC COUNCIL AND ITS THEIR JOB TO GUIDE AND PROTECT THEIR PEOPLE YAYAY!!!!
(NOTE: I DID NOT MAKE KAZEMIS PATTERN I FOUND IT HERE)
Character lore and ramblings below!!
Tumblr media
ARKENAS MY BELOVED!!! Hes Filipino because i said so JKSDHDS
Hes wearing a zoot suit which is a suit originated from african americans and would become popular with italians, filipinos, mexicans etc AND LIKE ITS PERFFECT FOR ARKENAS Because this type of suits were typically worn by performers due to how its easy to move around in AND HE himself is a performer as hes a very well known magician and illusionist!
Hes more of a sillay guy always looking to entertain people, but his magical performances got so good that people were struggling discerning what was real or not, enough that he was was given the title of master!
He always tries to befriend Magnus but always kinda fails at it JKHDHSD
Tumblr media
Magnus!!! He wasnt always so serious and brooding, in fact, he was a slick playboy back in the days. But because of uhhh many plotlines and backstory that will take too long to explain hes always feels sad and empty despite not knowing why...😲
Tumblr media
IMOGEN MY BELOVED!!! She comes from Ireland!!
Shes known for her experimental ways of doing Alchemy, for not sticking to rules and regulations and doing whatever she wants, and in that way she had become the embodiment of alchemy in a way it is all about risky experimentation and she goes through with it because she likes the thrill!!
Because of this she had done many contributions to the field of Alchemy, despite being deemed "unproffesional" by others
She also likes to do flirty teasing with Valentina because she thinks its cute how she reacts and crumbles HEHE
Tumblr media
VALENTINA!!!!! ONE OF MY FAV DESIGNS IVE EVER MADE🥺 Im so happy with the way she looks!! She was initially gonna be the master of ALL the elements, but because her design turned out too look more Earthy and Firey, i only made her master of that!
She has like rich posh aristocracy vibes and owns various fashion businesses while also doing her duties as a magicia master! 🙏 SLAY
As for her design i really wanted to give of posh businesswoman whos also fashionable!
Lowkey has a crush on Imogen but is in denial <3 Valentina is also besties with Kazemi and they like to gossip all the drama over tea <3
Tumblr media
KAZEMI MY WIFE MY EVERYTHING I LOVE YOUUUUU AUGH Shes also one of my fav designs along with Valentina!! Shes also from Japan >:]
Ive actually done quite abit of research on her name AND KAZEMI IS LITERALLLY THE MOST PERFECT NAME BECAUSE IT MEANS WATER OR WIND WHICH IS WHERE SHES MASTER AT...,, AND TOMIKAWA MEANS RICHES AND ALSO RIVER OR STREAM AND LIKE IT RELATES TO HER BECAUSE SHES WORKED SO HARD TO GET TO HER POSITION AS SHE ALWAYS KNEW SHE WAS DESTINED FOR PROSPERITY AND WEALTH RAAAA but if anyone like actually knows more abt japanese names and thinks that the name could be improved PLEASE DONT HESITATE TO DM 🙏
But yes due to how she more on the polite and demure side and her magic being water and wind, shes more underestimated and seen as more 'weak' than the others. But just how the seas can be gentle and also be a terrifying, great force, she can be too 🥺
Shes trying to court Samara btw 🥺 she relates to Samara in a way where their magic is underestimated due to how it looks "harmless", but both actually having the ability to do great harm if you know how to do it. Shes seen that Samara can do harm and damage if she wanted to, and she was like 'i want her" JKSDHJSHD
Tumblr media
SAMARA!!! 🥺 Shes more of the precise, rational, proffesional type! Always wanting everything to be clean and pristine, thats why she mainly wears white. Shes also Arabic :D
Shes known as one of the greatest healers in the world, known for her quickness and precision, basically knows every body part and muscle and veins and how to heal it as well as how to damage it!! ^-^
As for her veil type i used a niqab! Well a half niqab specifically, as it doesnt cover the entire half of the body. Their design is influenced by Arabic fashion as well as like nurse doctor outfits in the 1900s :D
Figuring out her name was a bit tricky because im not familiar with Arabic names and i also didnt want to go to babynames.com for it because i know its a bit more complicated but i managed to get help from friends who are more qualified n knowledgable about arabic names😭 THANK YOU @lastcookieontheplate MY DEAR FRIEND
AND AND she doesnt want to admit it but she gets flustered and blushy whenever Kazemi does her courting attempts <3 HEEHEE
ANYWAYS THATS ALL OF EM!!!!! Say "BERRI IS SO PRETTY AND COOL" If youve reached this far!
172 notes · View notes
rokudaimeplease · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
what exactly are you trying to visualize
350 notes · View notes
Text
The Turning of the Year: A Cinderella Retelling
In a long-ago year, in a faraway land, there lived a girl named Alena. She lived in the house of a cruel stepmother, who hated her because she was so much prettier than her own daughter, and who made Alena do all the work of the house. Though the stepmother let her eat only scraps and wear only rags, Alena grew only more kind and beautiful as the year's went by, while her own daughter, Vanda, grew ever more coarse and cruel.
Now one December, it became known that the king of the land would host a grand ball in the city upon the eve of the New Year. Alena, like all other girls, wished to attend, and asked her stepmother if she could go. Her stepmother promised that she could, in order to convince Alena to work even harder in the weeks before.
But when New Year's Eve arrived, and Alena asked if she could dress for the ball, her stepmother cried, "A ball? When there is so much work to do? We must cast out the old year! You shall attend no ball before the house is cleaned. If there is even a speck of dust left in this house at midnight, you shall bring bad luck upon us all--and it shall be very bad luck for you.”
With that, her stepmother left the house, along with her own daughter, Vanda, to purchase trimmings for their dresses at the ball.
Scarcely had Alena begun to clean the kitchen when she heard footsteps near the back garden gate. When Alena peered outside, she found an old woman walking alone, her back so bent she could not stand without her staff, and her hair so white the snowflakes seemed dark upon it.
“Good mother!” Alena cried, rushing to the woman’s aid. “Come inside to warm yourself! It is no weather for traveling.”
The old woman took a seat by the fire with thanks, and gladly shared the crust of bread that was the only meal Alena’s stepmother had given her.
“You are good to an old woman,” the stranger said. “Yet that is no surprise, for you have been good the whole year through.”
“You do not know me,” Alena said in surprise.
“But I do,” the woman replied, “for I am the Old Year. You have shown me kindness near the end of my journey, so I will be glad to do what I can to help you in yours. What troubles you, child?”
Alena said with sorrow, “My stepmother will not let me attend the prince’s ball until I have cleaned every speck of dust from the house.”
“That is easily done,” the Old Year said, “for April shall reign in this house for the hour.”
With that, though the woman remained old and bent upon her stool, she also seemed somehow to be tall and straight, young and beautiful, with apple blossoms in her golden hair. In the garden outside, the snow clouds cleared away for springtime sun, and warm breezes blew through the house, gathering all the dirt and dust and soot and spreading it neatly in the gardens outside. While spring reigned, Alena gathered blossoming branches from the garden and placed them in jars around the house. Before the hour was over, the house shone. The old woman then lost her youthful aura, and winter returned to the gardens outside.
Alena thanked the Old Year from the bottom of her heart, but at that moment, her stepmother and stepsister returned. Alena, knowing that her stepmother would beat her for letting a ragged stranger into the house, hid the Old Year in the pantry just before her mother entered the kitchen.
“You lazy girl!” Stepmother shouted, when she saw Alena sitting on the stool near the fireplace. “Why are you sitting when the house must be cleaned?”
“It is clean, Stepmother,” Alena replied.
Her stepmother protested, but when she inspected the house, she found not a speck of dust.
She returned to the kitchen filled with rage, for she did not wish Alena to attend the ball and outshine her own daughter in the presence of the prince. When there, she saw the sacks of grain that Alena had moved out of the pantry to make room for the old woman.
“Aha!” her stepmother said. “You have forgotten the grain! We cannot enter the old year with bad grain. You must sift through every kernel so you can throw out the bad and keep the good. If this is not done before midnight, it will be a bad year for you.”
With that, her stepmother and Vanda returned to their rooms to prepare their dresses for the ball. Alena wept by the fireplace, and when she let the old year back into the kitchen, she told her the new task her stepmother had given her.
“That is no trouble,” the Old Year said. “Dry your eyes, child, for July shall reign in this house for the hour.”
Though the woman remained as old as ever, Alena thought she could also see her as a woman of middle age, with roses in hair just beginning to go gray. Through the windows flew every one of summer’s songbirds--warblers, robins, thrushes, vireos, orioles, flycatchers, tanagers, grosbeaks. At the Old Year’s commands, they opened the sacks, and threw the good grain into the barrels and the bad out the back door.
The gardens outside were lush and green, and Alena spent the hour in the sunshine, gathering strawberries, raspberries, and roses by the armful. The birds finished their work before the hour was over, and then flew out the doorway. The sunshine faded, the snow returned, and Alena thanked the Old Year with all her heart.
Just then, her stepmother emerged from her rooms, and Alena hid the Old Year in the pantry once more. Her stepmother and Vanda were fully dressed for the ball, but they had been so absorbed in their own looks that they had not seen even a moment of the summer that had filled the house.
"The grain is sorted, Stepmother," Alena said. "That means I can go to the ball."
With anger in her heart, her stepmother sorted through the grain, but she could not find one bad kernel to blame Alena for.
"You stupid girl!" she said at last. "Just because the grain is sorted, it doesn't mean your work is done. You have forgotten the mattresses! We cannot meet the new year in beds filled with last year's down! You must empty all the mattresses and stuff them all with fresh feathers before you can even think of attending the ball!"
She forced Alena to drag the mattresses to the kitchen, and then she and Vanda returned to their rooms to finish dressing their hair.
With that, Alena fell to weeping once again. The Old Year emerged and asked what troubled her.
"My stepmother demands I restuff the mattresses before I can attend the ball."
"That is no trouble," the Old Year said. "September shall reign in this house for the hour."
The next moment, though the woman remained old and bent, Alena also saw her as a woman not quite so old, with an elegant bearing and iron-gray hair that was woven with autumn leaves. The light outside became golden, while the plants in the garden grew brown and dry, and the trees bore apples among flaming leaves.
The sky grew dark as the air filled with the sound of beating wings, and in a moment, geese and ducks of every kind filled the gardens. The birds filed through the door, and at the Old Year's command, they pulled the old feathers from the mattresses and replaced them with a few feathers pulled from their own wings and tails and breasts. While the birds worked, Alena went to the gardens and gathered sweet apples from the groaning trees.
When the hour was over, the birds flew away, leaving behind mattresses plump with fresh new feathers. Alena thanked the Old Year with all her heart, then flew up the stairs to prepare for the ball.
Her stepmother met her in the hall outside her bedchamber, her hair dressed and ready for the ball.
"I have finished the work, Stepmother," Alena said, "so I will be able to go with you to the ball."
Her stepmother did not believe her, but when Alena brought the mattresses upstairs, she found them so plump and clean and fresh that she could find no fault to blame Alena for.
"You foolish child," her stepmother said at last, so angry she could barely speak. "You cannot possibly attend the ball, for you have nothing suitable to wear."
"I have one dress," Alena said. She flew into her dark, drafty little room and emerged with a gown that had once belonged to her mother. "This dress will fit me, and it is fit to be seen even by a king."
Her stepmother could see that in such a dress, even old as it was, Alena would still far outshine her own daughter in the prince's eyes. She tore the dress from Alena's hands, and with hands made strong by fury, she tore at the seams until the dress tore in two.
"This rag?" Her stepmother cried. "You cannot attend the ball in something so old. I would not have you come and give shame to us all. You must stay here and greet the new year alone."
With that, she and Vanda put on their cloaks, stepped in their carriage, and departed for the ball, leaving Alena weeping in the hallway.
While she wept, the Old Year came to her side and asked what troubled her.
"I am without hope," Alena said. "Though all the work is done, I cannot attend the ball, for I have nothing but rags to wear."
"Nonsense, child," the Old Year said. "You shall be the finest woman there, for you will be clothed in all the bounty of the year."
The Old Year helped Alena to her feet, and through tear-filled eyes, Alena saw the woman change, so she seemed old and young and middle-aged all at once. In the gardens outside, spring blossoms sprouted beside summer's roses, and autumn's leaves blazed over winter's snow. Sun and snow and wind and rain all seemed to fill the little hall where Alena stood. Her limp hair piled high atop her head and was crowned with the blossoms of spring. Her rags became a gown as soft as the petals of summer's roses, and bright with autumn's crimson and gold. A cloak of winter-white feathers stretched from her shoulders to the ground, and her feet were shod in shoes of winter's ice, which through some miracle neither froze her feet nor melted upon the floor.
"Old Mother!" Alena cried in gratitude, throwing her arms around the old woman. "I cannot thank you enough."
"You have earned it," the Old Year said, "but I warn you that I will fade away at midnight's chime, and when I go, my gifts will disappear. You must leave quickly, child, while time lasts."
With that, another wind, warm and icy all at once, wrapped itself around Alena and lifted her through the window. In moments, she found herself before the king's palace, which was all lit up for the festival.
At the ball, her beauty far outshone every woman there, and the dancers stopped dancing to whisper about this strange foreign princess who had arrived with no escort. The king, seeing her, was enchanted at once, and asked for her hand in the dance. For the rest of the night, Alena danced with no other, and found the king as kind and handsome as all the tales had claimed.
The hours flew by in what seemed like moments, until just as the king led her out toward a balcony, the palace clock began to chime the midnight hour.
"The new year has come!" the king declared, but Alena fled from him, out of the palace, down the stairs, and to the dark and snow-covered city streets. The Old Year's wind--what was left of it--found her and carried her through the midnight sky, but at the stroke of twelve, it faded away, dropping Alena into her house's back garden, clad once more in her rags. A single shoe of winter's ice clung to her left foot--though the Old Year's gifts had faded, winter still reigned, so only that season's gift remained.
The king, when she fled, ran after her, but he could find no trace of where his partner had gone, save one token, dropped in the place where the wind had picked her up--a single shoe made of winter's unmelting ice. The king declared that he would marry no woman save for the one who fit the miraculous shoe, and at the first light of dawn, he left the palace in search of her.
He had not gone far when he came across a girl child, barely old enough to walk, with hair as soft and golden as the sun's first rays.
"Where are you going?" the child asked him, in a voice too strong and clear for one so young. The king knew at once that he spoke to the newborn Year.
"I search for the woman I love," the king said, "though I have nothing to find her save the shoe she left behind."
"I know her well," the New Year said, "for she was a great friend of my mother's. You will find her in a house at the edge of the city, where spring's blossoms sit next to summer's roses and autumn's fresh apples."
With many thanks, the king swept the child onto his horse, wrapped her in his cloak, and sped off toward the far edge of the city. Before long, he came upon Alena's house, and knew it by the baskets of blossoms, roses and apples she had kept by the kitchen window.
When Alena's stepmother had come home from the ball, she had seen the signs of autumn, spring and summer in her kitchen, and knew that Alena had been the princess at the ball. She searched in Alena's room and found the partner to the shoe the prince held, then she seized Alena by the hair and locked her deep within the cellar. As she saw the prince approach, she fetched Vanda--her own ugly, cruel daughter--and perched her near the window with the blossoming roses, with the shoe of ice upon her foot.
The king rode to the house's entrance and presented himself by the main doors. Alena's stepmother greeted him with warm joy and welcomed him inside. While she took the king's cloak and tended to his boots, she did not see the small child toddle from the prince's side and make her way to the room where Vanda sat waiting.
Once there, the New Year reached her tiny hands toward the loaf of bread that Alena had baked only that morning. "Might I have something to eat?" she asked Vanda.
"Go away, little girl," Vanda said crossly. "Don't you know that the prince is here?"
The New Year asked for bread again, and once more, Vanda scolded her. At last, the child began to cry, and Vanda hit her on the ear and sent her tumbling to the floor.
Red-faced and crying, the New Year rose to her feet and told Vanya. "You are a cruel, selfish girl. Your heart is cold as ice, and so it is winter that will reign in this house today."
With her words, all the doors and windows of the room flew open, and a wind as cold as death blew in. Snow blew into the room and fell in drifts upon the floor. Before long, Vanda's lips and hands were blue, but her feet, encased in blocks of freezing ice, were black as coal.
Vanya's screams drew her mother to her side, and the king, alarmed, trailed in after her. He saw the girl with blackened feet, and though one foot wore the slipper of ice, he knew she was not the girl he sought. He feared that these cruel women had done her some great harm.
While Vanya's mother tended to her and sent for the doctor, the king saw the New Year standing in a drift of snow. He lifted her onto a stool, wrapped her in his cloak, and asked her, "Where is the woman I love? You promised she was here, yet I do not see her, and there are no other women in this house."
"You will find her in the one place where winter did not touch," the New Year said, "for her heart is too warm to be touched by ice."
The king waded through the kitchen's drifting snow and opened the door of the pantry. There, he saw all the house's food stores covered in snow and ice, but with not a flake covering the small door that led to the cellar. With a few blows, the door broke open, and the king pulled Alena out into the morning light.
"I have found you at last," the king cried in joy, and knelt before her with the slipper of ice. "You have my heart," the king replied, "and if you are willing, I would make you my bride."
With a smile, Alena said, "I will gladly be your wife."
With joy, the king took Alena to his home and introduced her to his court as his chosen bride. The people were charmed at once by her beauty and her kindness, and before the month was over, she was wed to the king and became queen over all the land. Her stepmother and stepsister, with Vanya maimed and their food frozen, became paupers, because they, in their pride, refused all of Alena's charity. Their cruelty gained them no friends, and before the winter's end, they were found, frozen to death, in winter's snow.
Alena, reigning as queen by her husband's side, became beloved by all the land. She and her husband remained pure of soul and warm of heart, and together they all lived happily for all the rest of their years.
2K notes · View notes
akaashism · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Can we talk about this moment in season 2? I feel like it is majorly overlooked how strongly Kageyama values practice and hard work and dedication.
He was genuinely confused when Hinata seemed to be scared of Hyakuzawa (the 2 metre tall guy), because in his opinion, if Hinata had trained hard enough, there was no reason for him to be scared of anyone. Kageyama is one of the few people who has never dismissed Hinata because of his height and this is one of the reasons why—he believes in honing of skills through hard work and dedication more than he believes in inherent physical attributes one might possess. According to Kageyama, Hinata was always bound to beat Hyakuzawa simply because he had worked for it.
This is why Kageyama is always so confident on the court. He believes in his abilities because he has trained relentlessly to sharpen them—there is simply no reason to doubt himself if he has put in the effort that was required. It's actually bit similar to Kita's ideology.
The thing to take away from Kageyama's story is not that he is a volleyball genius, but the fact that he is a volleyball genius because he took the efforts to become one. It did not happen overnight.
This is also why he respects Hinata at the end of the day, because Hinata's willing to work just as hard as him to achieve what he wants. This is why I think Kageyama also fully supported him in his decision to go to Brazil too—because it aligns so well with his core principles.
Kageyama made Hinata believe that he's not lesser than anyone, that there's no reason for him to be insecure or scared of stronger players—because if he's committed to becoming the best, there's nobody who can stop him.
And for Hinata, Kageyama was always the living proof of this.
Tumblr media
337 notes · View notes
petite-phthora · 10 months
Text
Can I kiss you?
[DP x DC fic]
[Love at first... murder? - part 1]
Next >>
Ao3
---
“—so sorry! I swear I didn’t mean to kill him! It was an accident! He just jumped me out of nowhere and I have had bad experiences with clowns in the past so when I saw it was a clown trying to kidnap me I kinda just panicked and punched him! I swear, dude, I didn’t mean to hit him so hard—“
Jason, much too calmly, likely in some form of shock, rises from the crouched-down position he had been in to check the clown corpse’s pulse.
He had seen the poor, still rambling, twink getting grabbed from a distance and was about to step in as Red Hood, not even having been aware it was the Joker who —shouldn’t he have been in Arkham? There has been no announcement of him breaking out yet— had grabbed the guy until he had run close enough to the scene.
Which was after the guy had already been startled so badly by the Joker trying to kidnap him that he sucker punched the Joker into the wall of the alley so hard the clown died.
Said twink then realized what he had done and that he had a witness, that witness being Red Hood himself, and had started his frenzied speech on how it was an accident and to please don’t take him to jail he’s only just started his scholarship at Gotham U. and he can’t have murder on his track record yet.
Breathless, Jason looks at the nervous twink in front of him, who's still trying to plead his case, and who just obliterated the Joker with a punch.
Before his brain can catch up to his mouth, he’s already cutting the distressed monologuing off.
“Can I kiss you?” He blurts out.
Danny, taken off guard, breaks out of his panicked—oh, Ancients, I just killed someone— stupor and lets out a startled laugh.
“Take me out to dinner first” came the automatic joking reply, Danny still largely in shock of what he did.
Jason, either not picking up on the joking tone or ignoring it, nods seriously, already trying to come up with the best place for a dinner date with the cute twink to thank him for his service to the city.
Danny, who has calmed down slightly by now, glances between the red-helmed vigilante and the clown corpse. His gaze lands on Red Hood and he hesitantly speaks up again.
“So, uh, what happens now? Do I need to go to the station to make a statement orrrr?” He pauses awkwardly.
Jason, who’s still trying to figure out whether the Bat Burger would be a good place for a first date or not, doesn’t reply.
“I’ve got school in the morning and I only have like,” he pauses to check his phone for the time, “3 more hours before I have to be up for my first lesson. Soooo, I’m just gonna go. That cool?”
Again, he waits for a reply. But it doesn’t come.
“Right. Cool cool. Uh, see you later? Mr. Red Hood dude sir?” Danny gives a clumsy and awkward salute before turning tail and speed-walking away.
It’s not until 30 minutes later, once Jason has finally decided on the perfect place to take the guy to dinner to, that he realizes the twink is gone.
Fuck, he forgot to ask for the guy’s name.
And number.
576 notes · View notes
panic-flavored · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
I tripped and accidentally romanced the space cowboy
259 notes · View notes
ryuucae · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
256 notes · View notes
grox-empire · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
spider8itch
265 notes · View notes
coffee-bat · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
oh right. peepaw doodles from the ward bc i just realized i forgor to post them
105 notes · View notes
passivenovember · 1 month
Text
Someone says Billy might be in there, and that's all it takes to snap Steve's resolve in two like a pathetic, gnawed-on piece of red vine.
Billy might be in there, Nancy says.
It's strange when it claws out of her, choked and desperate because they're running out of time, some. Huge, old, fuckin', annoying clock ticking away someplace, deaf to be heard. But felt. Like five knuckles to the stomach.
Nancy's got mud on her cheeks. Blood crusting brown at the corner of her nose and fear glittering like shards of mirrorball in both eyes. Blue. Steve used to obsess over that shade, until.
Billy. Who burned the rest of the world to the ground. Who changed water and sky and moonlight and lake fronts forever. For Steve. Billy--
Who might be down there.
Steve peers at the soft current of the lake, rippling with tabs of stardust. Billy's dead, Steve remembers suddenly. They told him he was dead because he couldn't see through the cloud of black-cat gun powder that night the bottom fell the fuck out. They told Steve everyone was better off, they buried what was left of his body and they moved on. Everyone.
Steve didn't cry at the funeral. Couldn't. He promised Billy that he never would, not. In front of Neil Hargrove, not in front of anyone, so.
Billy might be in there.
Steve can't blame them as the boat rocks, gentle as the tick-tick of time pressing on, when no one moves.
Steve, Nancy says.
He looks at her, taken aback by the shock on her face. What are you doing, she says. But Steve isn't listening. His shirt dangles from her fingertips, a white flag. A death shroud.
Steve doesn't remember taking it off. He opens his mouth. Shuts it.
Eddie Munson looks at him with the kind of sharp, resigned knowing that makes Steve shrug. Clear his throat. Say, If I'm not back in two minutes, jump in after me.
Steve, Nancy says. Small and afraid, You can't go in. You're--
--Billy's in there, Steve snaps. No might. Leaving no room for argument. He can feel it, like that big clock in the sky, ticking.
Billy's in there, so Steve jumps.
--
Somewhere, in sudden, churning darkness
his skin starts to burn.
--
Something hits him, right under his temple. On his cheek bone. It sticks too the tacky landing of his skin and then falls.
Not. To the ground, Steve doesn't think. To the lakebed.
Into some great, terrible void that waits to swallow him whole because it has no teeth. No edge. No suffering.
"You're starting to burn," Someone tells him.
Steve jerks awake, eyes slamming into a bright blue sky. "Sorry," He says. "I fell asleep. I thought--"
"--You're gonna catch on fire."
Trees, nodding in the warm exhale of some far-away afternoon spring from the centerfold of himself. He's getting a sunburn but there's a tube of banana boat sunscreen on the beach towel next to him, hot to the touch.
"Did you throw that at me?" He demands. Steve's naked from the waist down. Flat on the earth, suddenly. Flat on a beach towel, gritting black sand into Miss Universe, '84's shiny blue one piece. He's seen this towel, before.
"You've gotta put it on," The voice says, "You don't have much longer."
Steve sits, blinking into the sunlight.
He's at the quarry. He's been here before.
"Who are you?" He asks.
The earth seems to exhale. Far below, laughter climbs the rocky face of memory. Steve hears children, playing. His children. Dustin's voice tugs at him. His heart. His mind.
Billy's in there--
"I'm looking for someone," Steve says, but he doesn't turn from the treeline. Doesn't peer below, either. Doesn't move. "I. I think I lost him. I haven't seen him in a long time but I--"
"Don't worry about that."
"I worry," Steve reports, but it feels like a lie. He considers the banana boat sunscreen but can't reach for it, afraid of what might happen if he sinks into its release.
The children keep laughing, far below, and Steve thinks he's seen this blue before. This shade. This sky.
"I don't want you to get sunburned," The voice tells him. Closer. Near enough that the breath from its lungs stirs the hair on Steve's head. Just out of eyesight. "You always look like shit when you're burned up."
"I was wondering if you could help me."
"You're gonna turn red, pretty boy. A fuckin' lobster."
Steve gasps. His heart shudders. Stops.
Stops beating.
Steve swallows. "I'm looking for someone," He says. Not particularly inclined to tear his eyes away from the peaks and valleys of the hill that grinds, pestle, all around him. He's safe. Nestled into the end. "Please, I. I think I lost him. I've been trying to find him for a long time but he's--"
"Hiding," The voice says.
Someone sits next to him in the sand. Naked from the waist down, golden.
Sunlight. Flame. The dawn.
Steve looks at him. "Billy," He says. Or maybe he doesn't. The word comes from everywhere, like springtime rolling over the earth. Flowers blooming and withering all at once.
"You don't have much longer," Billy stretches out along the beach towel, red trunks coated in dark black sand. "You're burning up. Why don't you go back?"
Steve remembers this.
Asking if there was an extra towel, if Billy wanted this one, why Billy gave it to him in the first place--
"Because I want to be with you," Steve says. Like Billy had said, then. That day at the quarry before. This and them and everything. It had opened a whole universe for them. It had changed everything and now Steve holds his breath, wondering if it will again.
Below, the children keep laughing.
"Billy," Steve says, because it tastes good. Like lemonade and iced tea. And cotton candy at the county fair. And cigarettes at midnight. And pancakes, burned by the man he--
"Look at me," Steve says.
Billy's hair billows, golden in the breeze. "I can't."
"Why?"
"You stare at me with those fuckin' eyes and," Billy shakes all over, "I'll get selfish. Ask you to stay."
"Don't have to ask," Steve tells him, rooted to Miss Universe '84. "I'm not going back."
"Yes you are."
"I can't live without--"
"Jesus Christ, would you listen to this bullshit? We sound like a play about star crossed losers, and not a good one, either." Billy sits up straight, tucking his hair behind his ears. "It's cliche. Don't say shit like that."
Steve swallows. "It's true."
"I know, pretty boy."
"So then why can't I stay with you?"
"Because it's not your time yet," Billy says, finally, finally looking at him. Eyes blue like the sky.
Steve exhales, watching as the earth moves with him. "Now who's cliche?"
Billy laughs, and.
Steve must crumble. Must catch on fire. Must make up his mind because he breaks.
"Don't cry," Billy tells him, weakly, "Harrington--"
"--I'm not going back unless you come with me."
"It doesn't work like that."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm dead," Billy tells him, turning in the sand until their knees press together. Solid and warm.
Alive.
"I'm not in the lake, sweetheart. I know you want me to be, but I'm not." Steve sobs. He can't help it, can't stamp it down, it slithers out of him with its fangs bared, full of fear and poison. It must get Billy in the heart. Must kill him a second time because Billy grabs at Steve, clutching Steve's face between his hands. "Hey, none of that, now--"
"--I'm sorry, Billy. So fucking sorry--"
Billy scrubs the tears away. "It's not your fault. Sometimes," Billy says, tugging fingers through Steve's hair, "Sometimes shit just happens, and people die, and it's a normal part--"
"--Nothing's normal anymore," Steve snaps, "I don't even know what normal looks like. And. Even before everything, before that night, I just. Something happened to me," Steve commit's the feeling of Billy's thumbs, rubbing circles into his sadness, to memory. "You happened to me, Billy."
The children aren't laughing, anymore. The sun dips low in the sky.
Billy turns from him, eyes scanning the treeline, "You don't have much longer, sweetheart."
"I'm not going back."
"You have to. I'm not arguing with you. This isn't a discussion." Billy says. Horrible and empty.
Steve snaps. "What, are you going to force me back into my body? Possess me like some fucking, ghost asshole and make me swim back to the surface?"
Billy blinks at him, shocked.
"That's where I am, right? Drowning at the bottom of the goddamn lake?"
Billy's face cracks open. "I can't watch you die."
"I watched you die."
"Bullshit," Billy says, "You couldn't see through the smoke--"
"--I love you," Steve says. Because it's simple. True. "And you love me."
Billy holds him tighter. Closer. "I know, baby."
"So let me stay here," Steve says. Holding on just as tight. Just as hard. "Let me come with you, and we can--"
"You have so much life stretching out in front of you, baby. So much love just. Fuckin' waiting for you."
"I don't care."
"You're going to have a family," Billy says, voice shaking, "You're going to meet someone. They're so good to you, I can. I feel it. Like sunlight," Billy blinks, lashes clumped with tears, "No. You already know him. Just met him."
"I don't want anyone else," Steve snaps, desperate. Wishing he could peel Billy's skin from the bone and sew himself up inside. Live there forever and ever and--
"I can't love anyone else, Billy."
"Yes you can," Billy says. "You will."
"What about," Steve asks, clutching Billy closer, "What about you?"
Billy smiles sadly. "I'm not going anywhere. Your whole life, I'll be here. I'll be waiting for you."
The sun dips below the horizon. The world burns.
Steve runs out of time.
70 notes · View notes
mogoce-nocoj · 4 months
Text
🫶 x / x (kaj pa ester? premiere, 14.02.23)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
92 notes · View notes
Text
Show making jokes about Viravos and their "canon" child, Aaravos literally trolling Viren when he is about to die yet again-
Things happening around Sir Sparklepuff were probably the funniest part of the season, I SWEAR HIM DANCING TO THE JAZZ MUSIC SCENE? ICONIC.
Or when he first screeched BLOOD OF CHILD out of random? (Which wasn't that random in the end)
Me and my friend with whom I watched entire 5th season yesternight were literally crying out of laughter when Aaravos came and went like "You know what Viren? It's communism time, it's our child now"
LIKE VIREN'S FACE WAS HILARIOUS.
202 notes · View notes
project-sekai-facts · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Based on comments from several other characters, as well as side characters and additional story context, it can be assumed that Shizuku is the most attractive character in-universe.
Tumblr media
Haruka is also considered to be very attractive, although Minori and Kohane are the only characters who really comment on it.
Sources in order: Beautiful 1koma, 4koma #140, 4koma #46, Tell Me Your Problems! Exciting Picnic! chapter 1, Beyond Prayers, the Tomorrow We Wish For chapter 8, Wishing for Your Happiness Upon the Blue Sky! chapter 4, Buddy Funny Spend Time ♪ chapter 2
194 notes · View notes