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virgil-achyls · 2 years

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Shine a Little Light||Emilio and Virgil

TIMING: A few days before Sad, Sweaty Man LOCATION: A park PARTIES: @monstersfear and @virgil-achyls SUMMARY: Emilio and Virgil meet up to talk about what happened with Hekakleidi. Emilio makes an offer, and Virgil accepts. The meeting is cut short by a hedgehound, and Emilio, without his powers and with Virgil making things difficult, runs away with the Lampade in tow. CONTENT WARNINGS: Suicidal ideation, domestic abuse

Everything was quieter than it used to be. You didn’t realize how much you relied on a thing until it wasn’t there for you to rely on anymore. Emilio was doing his best to work around it, but… It was no easy thing. Distraction, he’d found, was the best medicine. Distraction and… making amends. He was trying to get better at that.

Virgil seemed like a good enough place to start. Emilio carried a lot of guilt for his part in what happened to the kid, for chasing that manufactured ‘happiness’ the demon using Virgil’s body had offered to the point that he’d been willing to help sacrifice people to find it. He owed Virgil plenty, and a conversation seemed like the smallest place to start. Emilio sat on the bench as he waited for the fae to arrive, glancing up when he joined the scene. “Hey,” he greeted. “Thanks for meeting with me. Not always good at the… online shit, you know? Easier to talk in person, sometimes. And I, uh… Wanted to see for myself how you’ve been.” He looked different now. Better, maybe. It was good to see.

Virgil made his slow way to the meeting spot, gait slower and stiffer than normal due to his aching joints. He was better than he had been, but moving still hurt. It pulled at the healing skin, and the bits that stubbornly kept hurting. Keylike marks over his eyelids, the more complex knot in the center of his forehead, and the rest of the prayer marks, none of which seemed to be healing. They’d closed up enough to not bleed, but that was about it. They felt raw despite being months old. Even the acid burns to his skin and the spot on his maw where the demon had split him open from inside were better. But not those cursed marks.

He was still unsettled. The sense of being upside down, of feeling like he was going to fall into the sky, was worse now for some reason. And he was glowing. Not the natural kind which came from his eyes. It was his hair, the prayer marks, and, very faintly, the parts of his skin that’d been burnt worst by the corrupted magic. Hekakleidi’s magic was purged, but he was still feeling the effects. He was used to chronic pain, so his wounds didn’t bother him much when he was focused on other things. It was really just the bright white hair that irritated him; he stuck out like a sore thumb whether he was among humans or in the woods. He no longer felt as connected or protected by the shadows. Not as he had been, before all this.

Virgil took a seat on the bench next to who he assumed was Emilio. He hadn’t been awake for their first meeting, and he wasn’t exactly sure what Emilio looked like. But there were few humans who lingered after dark, and just one who regarded him without fear.

Emilio was a short human with dark hair. Virgil sometimes had a difficult time figuring out what humans were thinking or feeling, but the mixture of cynicism, anger, and regret were clear to even him. It looked like he wasn’t doing well either.

“It’s kind of you to want to check up on me. I am alive. I’ve been spending a lot of time asleep. But I’m bored of sleeping. It’s time for me to get back out into the world, such as I am.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “It’s good to meet you in person. Again.”

He settled into the bench, turning partially so he could meet Emilio’s eyes, and see what he could of the man. Though he was glamoured, it was clear that his humanity was a mere affectation. It was a poorly suited mask, with facial muscles and pulls that were incompatible with his true form. He rarely showed emotion through his face, but that did little to help. He hoped Emilio had a strong constitution.

The shade nearby shifted to point towards him. Shadows curled around him like a blanket, comforting despite his inability to truly be one with them again.

“Are you alright? You look a bit… tense.”

Christ, the kid looked like shit. Emilio was torn between sympathy for someone so obviously in bad shape and quiet relief that, in spite of everything, there was someone out there who looked worse off than he probably did. He knew he looked rough, with the bags under his eyes and the trembling hands, but Virgil seemed to be barely holding on at all. And there was a sense of guilt that came with that relief, sure, but not enough to dispel it entirely. Not enough to make it go away.

It occurred to Emilio, though, that this might be a normal look for me Virgil. Technically speaking, this was the first time he’d met the man instead of the demon. Hekakleidi had been a thing all its own, and the best glimpses Emilio had gotten of Virgil during the demon’s control had been brief at best. A split second when he’d thrown a punch the first time the demon came into his apartment. A moment or two during the sacrifices. Nothing as concrete as this.

He leaned back on the bench as Virgil took a seat, nodding absently. “I’d say you look better,” he said, “but I don’t want to lie.” Blunt, as always. Shifting a little under the lampade’s gaze, Emilio tried to shelf his discomfort. It was easy enough to remember that this wasn’t the same person who’d scooped him out of his own head to make room for someone more malleable. The differences in appearance made that clear enough. But the nervousness was there all the same, the quiet discomfort hard to shake.

The shadows moved, and Emilio’s eyes darted towards them despite knowing that it was Virgil who was doing it, despite knowing that there was nothing to flinch away from. He sucked his teeth, frustration flaring up at his own stubborn paranoia. Glancing back to the fae beside him, he shrugged. “Ran into a few issues recently. Kind of… flying blind right now. My hunter shit is shot.” The confession tasted like acid on his tongue, sharp and painful, but… he figured Virgil might actually understand it, in his own kind of way. “I’ll be all right once I get it fixed.”

“What do you mean, your hunter stuff is shot? I thought it was a part of you, like your skin. How did you lose it?” Virgil asked, not liking the implication there. It sounded like how he felt now: out of his element and strange, like something entirely different. He hoped that Emilio’s problem had a solution, something that could be done, besides just waiting to see if things improved on their own. Although, if Emilio was here talking to him and not out getting his powers back, he suspected that there was no simple answer. Virgil was tired of being patient, and he suspected that Emilio likely was too. Still, he had to ask. “Is it something that can be fixed?”

He thought about offering to help, but refrained. He didn’t want to be bound to another promise now, especially when the most he could do at the moment was be a nightlight. He would listen, and that was all.

“I appreciate your honesty. I’ve recovered somewhat. The restlessness is gone. But, as you can see, I have some lingering wounds.” Virgil waved his hand to his entire body, a slight, sardonic smile marring the blankness of his features. “The hair and general glow are what bother me the most. With them, the darkness cannot embrace me as it should.”

Emilio laughed at the question, dry and humorless. “It’s supposed to be,” he confirmed hollowly, closing his eyes for a moment. Virgil’s description was more accurate than he’d care to admit; he had lost a part of himself here. He might as well have lost his skin, a limb, his heart. That was how it felt, at least. “I don’t know. I hope so. I broke a promise.” He wasn’t sure why he offered the explanation. He wouldn’t have, to most people. But… There was a strange sort of connection he felt to Virgil. Maybe it was because of the shit the lampade had gone through that he’d been a part of, or maybe he just felt oddly connected to anyone who had more demon problems than he did.

He looked Virgil over carefully, nodding absently as he did so. He looked like shit, but still better than he had before. And he was himself. That, Emilio knew, counted for something. “Imagine it makes it harder,” he confirmed with a nod. Not just because it prevented him from using his powers properly, but because it was an undeniable physical change. A stark reminder of what Virgil had been through that no one could close their eyes to. That couldn’t be an easy weight to carry. “You think it’ll fade?”

Virgil’s gaze found Emilio’s eyes as he spoke of a broken promise, shocked at the revelation. “I wasn’t aware you were bound to anyone. What were the terms, if you don’t mind me asking? It seems like an overly cruel punishment.” He could see how a promise might cause problems for the human. The alarm faded fast into sympathy. He knew very well what could go wrong from promises made to the wrong person, and more than that, having one’s free will compromised was not enjoyable. The demon had crawled into his mind and made him their own. Even before that, Virgil had spent a very long year in White Crest doing his best to avoid carrying out his mother’s promise. He could only imagine how difficult it must be for one such as Emilio, given how humans faltered under harsh constraints.

“I do not think the marks will fade, no. They have been too well burned into me for them to go away. I will admit, I’m not the best with my glamour, but they will not be covered even by my best efforts.” He trailed off, gaze falling to the human-colored flesh of his wrist sticking out of the edge of his long sleeve, and the knot of runes carved there.

“I have healed from many other things. I recovered from where the demon succeeded in splitting me open from the inside. My burns are fading, if slowly. The restlessness has left me alone, so I no longer turn everything I touch black. If I had hope, I would theorize that the glow will fade like that demon’s poison did, just slower. But I do not think I will live long enough to find out.” At first, he’d hated to look at the marks, and know that they would always mean that he, in body and mind, was for Hekakleidi in the end. Now, he looked, and wanted to replace the marks with those intended for something else. Someone else, who would keep him, but not consume him in the way the demon would. His great and terrible Leshy. Nature would outlast him, and the demon. And he would die in the name of Solomon before he would surrender his mind to Hekakleidi again.

“I am exhausted with worrying about my body. It will keep hurting, as it always has. I wish to be embraced by the shadows. When the demon was in me, the shadows wouldn’t touch me, and I am glad they didn’t. Doubtless the demon would’ve corrupted them too. But despite the demon’s absence, their light still remains, and the shadows still keep a distance.”

Emilio laughed, dry and hollow and empty. “I was,” he replied, thinking of the two separate fae he’d been bound to, of Regan’s bodyguard job and Marina’s words tying him to Levi. Technically, Marina still had him bound, though they’d changed the terms of the agreement so that he only had to worry about keeping himself from killing the demon. Still, it felt like too much. It felt like freedoms being taken away, like sacrifices he’d never wanted to make. “I promised to protect someone,” he replied, “and I didn’t. Best I figure, the promise twisted me up so I can’t protect anyone now, even if I want to.” He wasn’t an expert on promise binds. He might ask Rhett if he wasn’t half convinced the warden would punch him in the face for getting himself into this mess to begin with.

But… his mess might not be the worst one on this park bench. Emilio knew all too well the weight that came with having a physical reminder of a trauma you’d gone through. His bad leg ached faintly, a quiet pulse reminding him that it was there, a graveyard to all he’d lost. People might not be able to tell it by just looking at him the way they could with Virgil, but it became clear enough when he walked. It wasn’t something he’d wish on anyone.

“It’s good,” he offered, “that some of it’s fading. At least there’s that.” But… the tail end of Virgil’s statement struck him, and his brow furrowed. “You think it’s coming back for you? The demon.” Virgil had mentioned it before, but the thought ticked Emilio’s heart up at the reminder. If Hekakleidi returned now, he’d be in no shape to fight them. Even with his abilities fully functional, he’d been bested on that first night in his apartment. He wasn’t exactly excited at the idea of a repeat performance.

He sucked his teeth thoughtfully, nodding at Virgil’s words with a hint of understanding. “Maybe you need to talk to another lampade,” he offered. “See if any might have some advice.” It wasn’t his best idea, but it probably also wasn’t his worst. He figured that stood for something.

Clarity washed over Virgil, and he nodded at the revelation of a promise to protect someone. That seemed like exactly the kind of binding Emilio would make, whether it was forced upon him or made willingly. But promises to protect were so nonspecific that it was almost impossible not to break them. Virgil had heard many a tale of the elder fae back home talking of bindings or loving vows which always ended with broken promises and disastrous results. Still, he nodded sympathetically at the human. “That sort of binding always goes wrong. Do not think yourself any less for breaking the promise. And… well, I hope you can get your hunter stuff back. I understand that you must be feeling empty. Not like yourself. But you are still a capable protetor.”

Emilio’s question nearly made Virgil laugh. Think. No, he didn’t think they were coming back. He knew that they weren’t done with him. It was one of the few things in life he was certain of. A joyless smile broke out over his face.

“The demon will come back, yes. I’m actually surprised they’ve let me go this long without retaliating. They told me I was their chosen, after all. I cannot just walk away from that, especially not after how things ended last time.” Virgil didn’t know if all demons had monumental egos, or if it was just Hekakleidi. But the way they’d gone out of their way to display that they’d chosen him, that they loved him, and wanted to stay in him forever, to anyone who would listen, and then be rejected in front of their following, was surely grounds for a painful retaliation. Perhaps they’d found a new body, but they would still want something from him. Whether it was to try again to make him an angel, or make him suffer, he wasn’t sure. But there would be something. Even at full strength, Virgil would not be able to do anything against them. And as broken as he was now, the demon could have him with zero effort. He sighed, folding his hands in his lap so he could press a thumb over the prayer mark, feeling it sting. He hated to go on knowing that he was helpless to something that would be the end of him, only he didn’t know how or when. The very least he could do was ruin Hekakleidi’s fun, even if that itself was false hope. “But I will not make it easy on them. Perhaps Solomon can cover them with his own marks. I’ll scratch them out of my flesh myself if I have to. And if it comes down to it, I would sooner sacrifice myself to him- to the forest- rather than allow the demon to touch me again.”

His voice had gone hard at the topic, chest tightening as he spoke for the first time of being helpless. He hated to feel like this, living in fear for the other shoe to drop, and for Hekakleidi to appear again. Solomon would likely not enjoy being asked to hurt him, or possibly kill him if the demon came back for him. But Virgil could only stomach the thought of his own death if it was Solomon doing it.

He swallowed, taking a few deep breaths before continuing in a more normal tone (though he couldn’t quite make himself stop pressing his fingers into the runes). Emilio had asked if it might help to ask another Lampade, and while it likely would, Virgil was more concerned with his life possibly ending rather than his issues with the shadows. “Perhaps it would help to talk to another Lampade. But the only one I’ve met here is… very different to me. I think it has to do with being from different dimensions. But maybe I will ask. It can’t hurt, I suppose.”

Did he think less of himself for breaking the promise? In all honesty, Emilio wasn’t sure. In the end, Regan was herself again even if the path to getting there hadn’t been something she’d wanted when she’d bound him. Plenty of people probably hated him for his part in it — he was certain Kaden did, and he didn’t think the librarian was his biggest fan either — but he wasn’t sure that this was something to be added to the list of reasons why he hated himself. The aftermath, certainly, was something he despised. The uselessness he felt without his strength or senses was unparalleled, something he was so desperate to fix that he’d nearly broken everything else in his attempts to do so, but the events that led him there? It had been a best case scenario for everyone but Emilio himself. Maybe that was part of what made it sting so badly. “Appreciate it,” he offered with a nod. “I’ll get it back.” He had to. If he didn’t… He knew he couldn’t keep going like this. A shadow of himself, a thing that needed protecting instead of a person capable of providing said protection to everyone else. Regardless of what Teddy said, he knew he wasn’t worth anything the way he was now. He had to get back to himself. Otherwise, he was no one at all.

Maybe there was no one who could understand that better than Virgil. Hekakleidi hung over the fae’s head the same way this sudden loss hung over Emilio’s. It wasn’t the sort of thing that could be ignored, wasn’t the kind of thing you could close your eyes to. The demon had taken a piece of Virgil with them when they left, held it even now with a promise to return. It wasn’t the sort of thing the slayer would wish on anyone.

That determination, too, was a thing Emilio understood. That stubborn sense of choosing what killed you, that way of knowing beyond any shadow of a doubt that you’d rather be slain on your own terms than survive on someone else’s. It was something Emilio had held onto for years now. Some days, it was the only reason he was alive at all. It was why he fought back against everything the world threw at him, why he refused to let Levi kill him that first night or any night that followed, why he intentionally bit off more than he could chew but still threw everything he had into surviving it in spite of that quiet desire not to that lived in his chest. When you’d had everything you cared about taken from you, there was a sense of feral pride in being your own destruction. Tearing yourself to pieces so that no one else could, taking yourself out of the equation just to spite someone who wanted to use you… Emilio could relate to that.

But even so… “He won’t like it.” Emilio knew that from his own experience, from Teddy tracking him down in that graveyard to stop him from letting a bunch of spawn tear him apart, from Ari camping out on his living room after Silas died, from Rhett looking at him with a critical eye any time he said something a little too off-putting. Even if it was the only path forward you had, the people who cared about you wouldn’t like the idea of you tearing yourself to pieces to win an impossible game. Solomon would be no different. “He might not do it.” Emilio’s friends wouldn’t, if he asked them to. But… “If you need a last resort, you can call me. I can’t… sacrifice you to the forest, but I can make sure the demon doesn’t get their claws into you again. I can do that.” He was damned anyway. What was one more unforgivable act, one more awful thing? He’d want someone to do the same for him, were his and Virgil’s roles reversed here. And… giving Hekakleidi the finger in the process wouldn’t be the worst feeling in the world, even if it’d probably blow back on him.

Nodding as Virgil mulled over his suggestion, not sure what else to say. If he knew more about fae, he could offer better advice. The fact that he’d found himself bound to two of them over the last few months seemed like proof enough that he was well out of his depth here. Virgil would probably be better off listening to just about anyone else. “Can’t hurt,” he agreed. “Librarian might know something, too.” She seemed to know something about the goings on in town, given the way she’d reacted when Emilio showed up to retrieve Regan’s bones. “Might have some… books, or whatever.”

I hope you get it back, Virgil thought, but didn’t say. This was no place for hope, or other nonsense. He found that it helped to be realistic about the situation that he found himself in, and deal with how he was now. Whether or not Emilio got his hunting ability back, he was still himself. That didn’t change, even if the human might feel like the lowest scum who barely deserved the air he breathed. “Until you do, try to be patient with yourself. I know it can feel like a death sentence. You might hate to be around the people who know you because you don’t want them to see how little you can do. But just try to work with what you have. You’re still a capable person, you just have to figure out how to do what you want in a way that works for you now.”

Virgil knew he was being hypocritical, and that being marked as useless and weak was not something you could just get over, especially not when it turned out to be true. White Crest just made his chronic pain worse, saddled him with a lightheadedness and a general sickliness. In some ways, it made it easier to deal with here, where nobody knew that he used to be: a farming boy who toiled for long hours to care for his humans and plants, used to hard work and long hours in his efforts to help the other fae. Now, he could barely go up stairs without his joints aching and popping, and the lasting feeling that he was going to black out. But Emilio was used to having a functional body, one that didn’t cause him pain, as far as Virgil knew. It did what it was meant to. Now, without the hunting ability, it was probably more jarring than it’d been for Virgil. “That might mean you pause on doing dangerous shit for a while. Don’t push yourself so hard. Maybe catch up on sleep. But you’re still normal, and you need to figure out what gives you purpose now. Just feel things out.”

It struck Virgil as oddly sweet that Emilio would offer to kill him if Solomon didn’t like the idea. Unexpectedly, the smile turned more genuine, and he allowed himself to let go of the mark, hands stilling.

“No, I guess he won’t like it,” he said after a long pause, undeterred, but slightly less sure of himself. He didn’t consider that Solomon might not understand that it was for the best. Possibly the only way to escape the demon for good. And… he wouldn’t truly be gone if Solomon kept loving him. Whether the Leshy just killed him, or turned him into a mindless plant creature, like he’d confessed to doing while under the Tree’s sway, it mattered little to Virgil. Solomon and him protected each other (not that Virgil was much good at it), but there was no protection from Hekakleidi. There was only making sure the demon couldn’t use him. Perhaps Solomon would take some part of his, such as his antlers (if they even grew back after this), or skull to keep with him.

But Solomon might not realize that it was a good thing right away. He might want to try other things, not realizing that there was no hope for anything except a loving death. But Virgil knew that nothing would stop the demon from using him again, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. They had his mother, and the minds of their fae in the Mirror, and the strength of being a greater demon. If there was a way to kill them, it was lost to him. Virgil’s sacrifice was the only option. And it wasn’t a certainty. Just something that they could talk about, which might give Virgil some peace of mind. A failsafe. He knew that Solomon would be gentle with him. So would Emilio.

“Thank you, Emilio. It means a great deal that you’re willing to do this for me. I know it won’t be pleasant, killing someone you know. But this will put me greatly at ease. Perhaps it’s selfish of me to ask this of anyone, but I don’t think I could do it myself.” He did hate to go against what Solomon would doubtlessly think was best, or make him unhappy. And he wasn’t sure if Solomon would even consider it. But he thought that covering up the marks was a good first step. Solomon would understand that, at least.

“I am in your debt. If you find yourself in need of anything I can provide, just say so.” Virgil wasn’t sure if this counted as a promise. He didn’t feel any different. Just less tight around the chest. “An iron weapon should do the trick. And… if I faint and lose my form from the pain, shine a bright light on me. That should make me solid enough to keep going.”

It is a death sentence, Emilio wanted to insist, because he felt it might as well be. Even with their enhancements, most hunters didn’t live to be the age he was now. Without them, it seemed unlikely he’d survive the week. His best chance at making it through this, he knew, was to stop hunting altogether, but the notion was so strange that it was almost laughable. Emilio couldn’t stop hunting any more than he could stop breathing. He knew that. With a sigh, he shook his head. “Patience has never really been my strong suit.” Especially not when it was a kindness he was meant to extend towards himself.

Still, he knew that Virgil’s advice came from a place of experience. They were quite the pair on this bench — two men who’d been one thing all their lives only to find themselves twisted into something else by a force they didn’t entirely understand. Emilio didn’t think anyone else in his life could relate to this particular feeling better than the man sat next to him now, as much as they might try to. He’d lost a piece of himself. A good piece. Maybe the best piece. And he didn’t know who he was without it. Something strange, something unnatural. Something utterly useless. Something he’d never wanted to be. “That’s easier said than done,” he replied, wringing his hands together if only to give himself something to do. “Follows me sometimes, you know. Plenty of people who’d jump at the chance to kill me while I’m easier to kill. And the sleeping…” He trailed off, thinking of the nightmares that made it difficult to sleep for even the few hours needed with his slayer abilities intact. “I just need to get it fixed. That’s all.” He couldn’t stomach the thought of being this shadow of himself for any longer.

As Virgil admitted that Solomon would not, in fact, enjoy the concept of being asked to kill someone he clearly cared about, Emilio thought of the sea cave where Teddy had asked the same of him. He thought of Silas asking him for it in Metzli’s apartment just after Andreas’s death, thought of how often the people he loved asked him for impossible things that he couldn’t deny them. He wouldn’t deny Virgil, either. The relationship might not be quite as tight-knit as the one he had with Teddy or Silas, or the one Virgil had with Solomon, but Emilio still respected the lampade enough to acknowledge that he deserved to go out on his own terms, deserved not to be forced to endure whatever Hekakleidi might have in store for him.

“I’ve done more unpleasant things for less,” he replied. His life, it seemed, was often little more than a series of unpleasant choices, a long line of terrible things to stain his hands red. Adding one more to the list would hardly make much of a difference. “You don’t have to thank me. Not for this. It’s fine. I release you, or whatever I’m supposed to say.” He waved a hand, dismissing the bind as best he could. Even if he was on the other side of it this time, he wasn’t keen on making another fae bind while the one he’d had with Regan was still twisting him up like this. He nodded at the instructions. “I’ll make it quick, if it comes to it. You won’t have to —”

He broke off at a sudden sound from the nearby woods. Twigs snapping in a way he would have heard earlier if not for his powers being shot. He tensed immediately, on his feet before he realized he was standing, knife already in hand. A lumbering shape melted out from the shadows — large, leafy, walking on all fours. Christ. A fucking hedgehound. With his abilities intact, it would have been simple to dispatch. Without them, it would be a little more of a challenge. Emilio positioned himself between the beast and Virgil, knife clutched uselessly in one hand while the other dug in his pocket for his cigarette lighter. “Might want to make a run for it here, wey.”

Something that moved on all fours and had a plantlike hide slid out of the foliage. Virgil thought at first that it might be Alti, come to find him again to let him know that Solomon was in danger. But it was quite a bit smaller than Alti, nor did it act like him. A hedghound, not a cu-sith, judging by the vines encircling its body and the heavy smell of rot. This new creature must’ve come after Virgil. For the second time in as many trips out, his weakness and lack of ability to hide was going to come back to bite him. He didn’t regret coming to talk to Emilio, but maybe he should just take the long road through town from now on to avoid being attacked.

Emilio was in between him and the hound before he could so much as stand. Despite what the hunter had just said about not having the necessary abilities to deal with a threat like a hedgehound, Emilio drew a knife and a lighter, as if he thought he could fight this thing without it consuming him. Virgil found his feet, feeling a wave of dizziness combined with a throbbing, poppy grind to the sockets in his hips and knees. Darkness coalesced around the three of them until it was thick enough to drink from, hopefully breaking the sight lines between the hound and the vulnerable human. Before the demon, Virgil would’ve insisted that Emilio leave, since this creature was fae, and Virgil would rather just deal with it instead of having to risk Emilio getting his guts ripped open and consumed by the creature. But now, he knew that he was in no shape to elude this thing on his own.

“I cannot run. And I won’t leave you alone to deal with this. We both need to get out of here, now.”

But… wasn’t this what Virgil had wanted? For Solomon to sacrifice him to the forest, so he could live without pain? Solomon had spoken briefly of turning a few living creatures into things like this hound. Made of plants, and able to take orders from the Leshy. It didn’t look like a pleasant existence, but at least it was without pain. Virgil wouldn’t be miserable if Solomon was around to make sure he was happy. He could be a hedge-lampade. It would save Solomon the trouble of doing this himself.

Virgil turned to the hound, letting the shadows dissipate ever so slightly. He made no move to run, nor shrink back, even when the eyes of the creature landed solely on him once again, and it snarled hungirly, coiling back into itself in preparation to strike. “Do you think it’s happy like that?” He asked to nobody in particular, having forgotten that Emilio was there. He extended a hand to the beast.

Virgil wasn’t running and, if he was being entirely honest, Emilio wasn’t surprised. This town, he was learning, was filled to the brim with self-sacrificing people who’d gladly give up their own lives just to keep someone else from dying alone. It was, he’d decided, pretty goddamn infuriating. Normally, he might have added insulting to the list, too, because normally, Emilio could take down a fucking hedgehound in his goddamn sleep. But… he wasn’t exactly in full form right now. And Virgil knew it, because Emilio had told him.

Goddamn it.

Emilio let out a half-frustrated, half-anxious sound from low in his throat, trying not to snap at Virgil to just go. He could hold the damn thing off long enough for the lampade to escape, might even be able to kill it without suffering any serious injury himself if he focused up. But he’d seen the look on Virgil’s face on too many others in this town to know that the fae wasn’t going to leave him there, no matter how much he might want him to.

And then, the look shifted into something else. Something just as familiar, though not necessarily because Emilio had seen it on other people. No, this expression was more like the one he caught sight of when he happened passed a mirror. The look of someone facing their own potential death and… not quite hating the idea of it as much as they ought to. Emilio grit his teeth. He might not have his usual strength or speed, but his hand still shot out to catch Virgil’s arm at lightning speed before the fae could touch the hedgehound, yanking the offending limb backwards. “Nothing happy about an end like that,” he warned lowly. He might have promised to take Virgil out if necessary, but… it wasn’t necessary yet. And dying to this wasn’t the sort of thing the slayer would wish on anyone.

There was a moment of conflict still, a moment where Emilio was caught between taking out the hedgehound and getting Virgil to safety. Both, he figured, wasn’t a solid option. Not when Virgil was in danger of either throwing himself between the beast and the hunter to protect the latter or letting the hedgehound at him to stop from fulfilling whatever purpose the mad god who’d taken him over before had in mind for him. Running away left a sour taste in his mouth, reminded him too much of Etla, of the burning warehouse, of all the worst things he’d ever done.

But sometimes, it was just about the only thing you could do.

With a frustrated groan, Emilio crouched down and threw Virgil over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. The position allowed him to lift the lampade easily enough even without his enhanced strength, and though his bad leg protested the added weight, Emilio was in good enough shape to maneuver away faster than the hedgehound could manage. “Come on, wey,” he muttered, “I guess we’re running.”

Virgil flinched when Emilio’s hand shot out, and he found himself automatically going completely still, face and body turning blank, mind jumping from distractedly ruminating over the hedgehound to whether or not he’d crossed some sort of line with the hunter. Was Emilio angry with him? He didn’t look any angrier than usual, but Virgil knew that he wasn’t really the best judge about that sort of thing. Despite the self destructive impulses, and the fact that he was offering a parasitic vine creature his hand, he still instinctively went into survival mode, doing his best not to look like prey, or someone who would give any satisfaction if Emilio did hurt him.

But Emilio wasn’t touching him to hurt him, he was doing it to separate him from the real threat, at least in Emilio’s eyes. He batted Virgil’s hand out of reach of the hound, the motion too fast for Virgil to really track, or feel. Emilio seemed to waver for a moment, as if making a decision. Then, with a bit of grumbling, he crouched down and picked Virgil up.

Virgil didn’t try to move away, or put up a fuss despite the fresh flood of stinging pain to his skin. Rather, he trusted Emilio to take his weight. He was suddenly tired again, and somehow sad, though he didn’t know why.

Despite a sickening rush of vertigo, Virgil managed to stay solid as Emilio hefted him up, stiffly curling around the much shorter human’s shoulders. He briefly saw the hound skitter back a step at the motion before his vision blurred out.

He was used to being carried on the hips of either his brother or Solomon, which didn’t require him to shift his head too much. For times when it was necessary to move quicker, Solomon usually let him hide as a formless wisp within the numerous cracks of his true form. He stuck to the shadows even if he fainted, so he was relatively safe from falling off while intangible. And while it wasn’t pleasant for him, he knew that it was necessary at certain times to move faster than he could handle.

Emilio was not Solomon, though. It wasn’t as simple as just willing himself to follow the beating of the Leshy’s great heart to find shelter before it became impossible to move, or stay conscious. Humans didn’t have natural places where the shadows pooled, where a lampade to hide, at least not normally. But despite that, and despite Virgil’s irritating brightness, the night afforded enough darkness for him to sink into.

Virgil dissolved first from his limbs, and then through his body. His physical form, which had always been more of a concentration of smoke dense enough to be tangible, spiraled back into the nothing it so enjoyed being these days. He shut his eyes, trying to breathe, and block out the motion of Emilio running, but it was impossible. Every jolt of his feet made Virgil disappear further.

But it was not enough to shake him loose. He was still with the hunter, just in the form of a mass of tendrils.

It was usually impossible for anyone except perhaps another Lampade to make out the shape of him like this. But the demon’s glow made him visible to Emilio’s eyes, should the hunter peer back. There wasn’t much to see, just a shiny, irregular, greyish blob no bigger than the palm of a hand. He supposed he looked like a will’o’the’wisp, or like the kind of laser that cats so loved to chase, except with him it was strange creatures who seemed to love to chase him. First the exploding not-bear, and now this hedgehound. He missed the times when he could just walk around in the forest and not be seen or bothered by any living thing. Animals, monsters, all used to give him distance, and turn away from him in fear, knowing somewhere in their minds that he should be avoided. Now, they just saw him as something to be followed.

He had purchase on the hunter’s shoulder, in any case. The hound let out an eerie yip, giving chase.

Even with his senses muted like this, the swaying was too much. He felt out of control, dizzy, as if with every lurch he was going to fall into the sky and never be heard from again. He wouldn’t. But somehow, every time he went too fast, it was beyond his ability to keep his composure. Like if he truly gave in and blacked out, he might wake to find himself adrift in the upside down sky, and never find his way back to solid ground.

The only thing that kept him struggling to stay conscious was the fact that Emilio needed him to tell him to keep going. Emilio might think that he’d fallen, and he didn’t want him to stop and allow the hound to catch up. Despite his lack of a desire to keep living, and his curiosity about what it might be like to be consumed, he didn’t want Emilio to be caught up in it. And with him currently untouchable, the human had likely become the hound’s target. He could hear it behind them, its panting mixed with snarls, the padding of four feet through the grass, doggedly pursuing them. Emilio likely didn’t want to know what it was like to be a hedge-human.

“Don’t stop,” Virgil breathed in the lungless tone of a hanged man. It was difficult to speak loudly when he was like this. He was thankful to be perched on the human’s shoulder, and easier to hear. “I might faint. But I’m still with you.”

With his task done, Virgil faded into the comforting nothing of unconsciousness, knowing nothing except the rocking of the hunter’s strides.

The weight in his arms shifted in a way that felt strange. Not like it was moving, but like it was changing. Not for the first time, Emilio wished he knew a little more about fae, wished he’d listened to all of Rhett’s drunken ramblings over the years. He’d always assumed he wouldn’t need it, always figured that Rhett could take out the fae while he took out the undead. But… at the moment, Rhett wasn’t here and Emilio wasn’t capable of taking out either. All he could do was carry on and hope that Virgil wasn’t going to disappear, hope that the hedgehound wasn’t going to catch up to them.

He glanced at the shape on his shoulder, the willowy, shadowy thing that breathed in Virgil’s voice and told him to keep going. He wasn’t sure, if he was being honest, if the encouragement was one he needed or not. For all of Emilio’s self-destructive tendencies, he’d never been the sort of person who could stand the idea of someone else being caught up in his carnage. This hedgehound had more of an interest in the lampade than it did in the hunter, and while Virgil seemed safely intangible now, Emilio didn’t know how long that would be the case. If he stopped, the hedgehound would consume him. If Virgil happened to fade back into solid form when that happened, it would consume him, too. And one of those outcomes was the kind Emilio couldn’t live with.

So he ran. Virgil’s less solid form made it easier, made the extra weight less noticeable in a way that had his bad leg’s protests shifting from blaringly painful to mostly bearable. He couldn’t slow down, couldn’t stop. The hedgehound was bound and determined to catch up, and Emilio was just barely faster than it. This would have been a breeze with his usual abilities, enhanced agility and better stamina and all, but as he was? It was a goddamn challenge.

But it was a challenge he managed. Eventually, the hellhound lost interest. There was easier prey to chase, easier things to kill. Emilio didn’t stop until long after the sound of the creature’s footfalls behind him faded, didn’t slow until he was certain it had given up. When he was finally sure it was safe, he slowed to a walk, limping to the closest building and sliding down against it, shifting the vaguely Virgil-shaped shadow off his back and onto the ground beside him. His lungs ached, his leg throbbed, and he let his head fall back against the bricks with a sigh. “Don’t know where you live,” he muttered to Virgil’s unconscious, shadowy form, “but I’ll drag you back to my place when I catch my breath. My couch smells like shit, but it’s comfortable enough. You can sleep there until you’re ready to go home. I don’t mind it.” He closed his eyes, digging his fingers into his knee absently in an attempt to chase away the worst of the pain. “Just gotta catch my breath.”

#monstersfear #wickedswriting #shine a little light

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musiconspotify · 5 months

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youtube

#JasonHawkHarris Shine A Little Light

#spotify #jason hawk harris #shine a little light #thin places #musiconspotify #Youtube

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arttsuka · 1 month

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I drew this meme too (I should have drawn the groom uglier tbh)

Og picture:

#mlp #my little pony #princess cadance #princess mi amore cadenza #shining armor #meme redraw #traditional art #art #fanart #i used sticker gems because I was too lazy to actually draw them #also its 2 am right now so sorry for the atrocious lighting in the photo #the bride and the ugly ass groom #ink

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minhosblr · 1 month

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Lee Know ☆ SKZ's Magic School Feast

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simplyavatrice · 1 year

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nobody does it like her

#ava silva #avatrice #warrior nun #warriornunedit #avasilvaedit #avatriceedit #alba baptista #no character has come around quite like her #nobody has her heart #her personality #her depth #like this girl was paralyzed #and it never feels out of place in her story #because alba puts so much emotion into everything so many little details #but she's such a shining light of hope and love and determination #the fact that she finds love and family for the first time in twelve years and fights for it with everything she has #for herself and her future #for the world once she figures out how much she loves it #for her family #the one she finds and so desperately wanted #then for bea #her bea #who she loves with her whole fucking heart and soul #and is ready to give up the future she spent twelve years lying around dreaming about #nobody does it like ava silva #NOBODY #anyway i'll never be over her #myedits

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bakudekublogblog · 3 months

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it never stops being funny to me that people are bkdk antis in the year 2024 like “katsuki bullied izuku!! how dare you ship izuku with him” ??? take it up with izuku he’s is the one pining his ass off for him. I can’t make izuku not yearn for katsuki ??? I’m sorry I have observational skills?? izuku is just like that you think I can stop him??

#bakudeku #bkdk #izuku thinks he’s so blessed to even have an almost normal convo with him and gets all misty eyed thinking about it #izuku stares at katsuki like he’s the light of his life his hero #izuku swoons into his arms and has a pure rage form for whenever something bad happens to him #kacchan v deku pt 2 was him being like I FUCKING LOVED YOU OKAY I ADORED YOU YOU SHINE SO BRIGHTLY I LOVED YOU #like he’s just in love with him he was his first love and then they got divorced #and then they’re slowly coming back together and izuku falls even harder this is simply the plot of the manga #also how dare you be like Stop Shipping and tag the ship like who… are yiu??#some raggedy ass bitch thinks they can tell me what to do with my precious little free time uhhh #maybe go outside and touch grass

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grimalkinmessor · 4 months

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Just to put a lot of my posts and beliefs about Light Yagami's character in one post (headcanons not included):

• He does not do anything for purely moral reasons. The reason he started killing criminals was because he was curious, and then afterward his "crusade" was built from panic and spite. He thought using the Death Note was going to kill him, so he decided to take everyone he considered a threat to society down with him—that way he would still be good. He would still be remembered. If he can't live, then criminals don't deserve to either. The weight loss and the insomnia shown in the manga, were more likely results of a fear of dying than moral stress.

• Then Light discovers he won't die. This negates part of the spite, but not the need for a moral justification to keep himself "good". He no longer needs to be a martyr, so instead he's chosen to become a God.

• During this week and half of time, Light goes from being a bored, lonely, listless teenager disgusted with the world because it's not how his father taught him it should be, disgusted because if he can manage perfection why can't the rest of the world—to a boy with a new friend and a new mission that gives him purpose. Something interesting. If the world can't be perfect on its own, he'll have to help it. The world needs his help, making him its "savior".

• In comes L. It is no longer about Kira, no longer about saving the world from itself, even if he might tell himself it is—it's about the game. Kira was a fun pastime, yes, but L has made things so much more interesting. (Light and Ryuk are actually wildly similar in several ways it's just not immediately obvious). This game is more fun, too, because this time he has an opponent—one not so nebulous as "the criminals of the world", who offered no challenge. Light is still justifying his actions through a lens of morality, because he has to, but they're beginning to run rather thin.

• Both the broadcast and the obvious taunts to L through changing Kira's killing methods supports the above. "You're too stupid, L. If you were just a little smarter, we could've had some fun." Drawing L in was to progress their game, not Kira's goals. If Light truly only cared about Kira's vision, Kira's new world, Kira's righteous justice; then he wouldn't have continued to play the game after the broadcast. There was no way for L to find him without Light drawing him in—the Death Note is literally the perfect murder weapon. Light knew this, he just ignored it because he wanted to play.

• In the same vein: Yotsuba Light doesn't know he's playing the game. He's forgotten that there even is a game, and so he sees L as someone who's been duped, who either isn't as intelligent as he's been made out to seem, or someone who's being purposefully cruel just because he can. Either way, to Yotsuba Light, L's threat level has only increased, because Light no longer has any sort of weapon to go against him with. He can't even wield his own innocence against him, because his innocence is not certain. Even to himself. Yotsuba Light knows that he has to play along with L's plays of friendship and morality in order to secure his freedom, but he does not respect L or like him. At least, not until near the end, where they're closing in on Higuchi. Where his freedom seems closer....and yet he sees his own, true innocence as more tenuous than ever. Notably, even when Light feels positively towards L there, he still does not share his suspicions about himself with him. His own life still takes precedence over any sort of justice or morality he might have, because Yotsuba Light is still Light. And Light will always put his own self-interests first.

• After killing L, something interesting happens. Because the game ends, but Kira is still left. And Light was willing to take risks and make wild plans in his game with L, but Kira's goals always, always came after his own life. And when only Kira's goals are left, Light stops taking those big, potentially lethal risks. (i.e. bomb desk trap, killing Raye Penber in person by handing him pages of the Death Note, killing Naomi Misora in person right in front of the police station, writing Higuchi's name while sitting right beside L with the murder weapon literally in his hand, etc. etc.). Winning the game was worth dying for—Kira's ideals are not. Or, to put it even more simply: His pride is worth dying for, but his morals are not. Five years after his victory against L, he's presented with another game, but instead of feeling fearful and excited as he did with L, Light is angry. Arrogant and angry. Because this isn't a game to these opponents, as it was to L—they're playing against each other, and Light is merely a piece in it. This game is not like his game with L; it's more like his "game" with the criminals of the world. One with no true challenge, just another defense of Kira's world—worth winning, but not worth dying for.

• Light's pride is more important to him than anything. He needs to be able to take pride in himself and his actions. Pride comes before everything else, before Kira, before family, before L, even before his own desires and physical health. He does not enjoy killing—he just turned it into something he could be proud of. Into another mastering of craft. Light is not particularly sadistic, he's just spiteful. He'll only take pleasure in someone's suffering if they make someone else suffer first, especially if that someone is him. Attacking his pride would count as making him suffer, because that's the most important thing in the world to him. Even though Light also values his life incredibly highly, attempting to kill him wouldn't invoke as much hell-hot wrath as attempting to humiliate him would. And Light will always get even. Always. He does not forgive and forget.

• He believes every lie he tells himself. Every. Lie. He is a Good Man. He is Good Son. He is a Savior. He is Better. He is NOT Evil, he is Good. He's incredibly adept at not only fooling other people, but fooling himself. Even if he's vaguely aware of the truth, he'll take great pains to make sure that truth never comes to light—because it would crush him.

• Light does not take his own desires into account. If he likes or wants something that contradicts with the perfect image he's crafted, he purges it from his mind. Makes excuses for why he doesn't need it, or even convinces himself very thoroughly that he didn't even want it in the first place. If it's not something he can be proud of (or convince himself to be proud of), he doesn't allow himself to desire it.

• Light sees everyone as beneath him (family notwithstanding, Light loves his family deeply), and while it's a pyramid scale of how far beneath him they are, it's not actually ranked by things like gender, sexuality, race—it's ranked by morality and intelligence. The more intelligent and moral you are, the higher up you are on the scale. Light feeling hostile towards someone does not always mean he sees them as further down beneath him; with L and Misa specifically, it means that they're a threat. Light tends to only see people near the top of the intelligence pyramid as threats; evidenced by him dismissing Matsuda completely even with the knowledge that Matsuda was a marksmen, and yet him immediately setting out to kill Naomi when he found out she figured out one of Kira's secrets. With Takada and Mikami, he treats them exactly the same as each other because they're both on the same level of the scale—and he didn't hesitate to get rid of either of them. (Or try to get rid of, in Mikami's case). Everyone is either a tool, a threat, a criminal, a citizen, or family to him. People to use (tool, criminal), people to serve and/or placate (citizen, family), and people to eliminate (threat, criminal). Everyone falls into at least one of these categories for him.

• Light Yagami is a tragic character. And he's a tragic character because he refuses to believe he's part of a tragedy. He would rather swallow broken glass than be considered a victim of anything.

#death note #yagami light #light yagami #character analysis?#character analysis #the stapels of his character ✨#i see so many character profiles for him that i thought id make one of my own :D #these are the points of contention for me—ESPECIALLY on the pride bit #if his pride isnt the most important thing to him beyond his life (and sometimes his family) then i consider it an ooc interpretation #but he's also not just. blatantly evil. he doesnt revel in the gore of his victims killing just for kicks #again its not about his own desires so much as its about his need to be seen as perfect and honorable #his intelligence bites him in the ass on that front. bc he can convince himself that his killing is righteous with very little struggle #anyway ✨ i love him #he's so interesting #this is how i see him WITHOUT all my headcanons in the way lmao #bigender light my beloved im sorry this is not your time to shine 😔

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elkkiel · 1 month

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I am absolutely in love with vessel and II* and III and IV, not in a romantic way. Just utterly enamoured by their talent, the genuine love for each other, and how they openly demonstrate healthy expressions of masculinity as men in the modern metal scene. They're the kind of men I would feel safe and comfortable being alone with; just very good vibes all around, especially in a space that can be really hostile to queer folk, bipoc, and women

#sleep token is for the girls the gays and the theys #*II is the exception he is my shining star the light of my life i would die for him my little percussion kitten #elkk.txt #sleep token #sleep token vessel #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv

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dinitride-art · 1 year

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Robin and Vickie <3

#robin buckley #st vickie #my art #rovickie #rockie #byler #<- you guys know why you’re tagged #forgot the light shining when I originally posted this #so I added it #and decided I could do a little more with this piece

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jeysuso · 5 months

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#sami zayn #samizaynedit #rami sebei #wweedit #mygifs*#jeysuso #wrestling tag #*#my beloved my beloved my beloved #he's sooooo pretty #so pretty #i hate that he's never there for these bc the lighting in that studio is always So Good #but his little set-up looked so 🥺 beautiful #like yes sunshine shine on your human embodiment like that

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practically-an-x-man · 1 month

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ok well that one's going straight on the favorites list for sure. absolute masterpiece. one of the most genuinely unsettling horror movies I've ever seen, and I've seen a LOT. It's all the slow descent into madness that the Shining movie wanted to be, the acting never missed a fucking beat (this is the guy's FIRST LEAD ROLE and goddamn did he command every second he was on screen), played super well on the 70s talk show on-air/off-air setting, then throw in some Cronenberg-style practical effects and I could not look away

#late night with the devil #this is one of those where you just know everyone working on the film has just this incredible appreciation for what they do #i mean everything down to the little bit of camera fuzz and the fact that he refers to the lights as par cans. every detail #and i mean it's already super clear that david dastmalchian is a big horror guy but he SHINES in this. really in his element #i mean it's the natural talk show host charisma. the slowly building grief and anxiety as it goes on. and then when it all falls apart #just. goddamn. definitely a new fave. my other favorite horror films are ex machina and the fly for reference #and this is all the unsettling atmosphere of ex machina plus all the grotesque visceral effects of the fly

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baylardian-1 · 4 months

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a gamer boy and his prom queen model valedictorian princess wife

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kicktwine · 9 months

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If I think too hard about how aggressively Ven is princesscoded or how aqua is princecoded I grab a shelf off of my bookcase and fling it frisbee golf style through the drywall and all the books land perfectly on the row below them like a magic trick

#kipspeak #TKNOW WHAT I JUST ENJOY THAT THEY DID THAT TO THEM.#I JUST LIKE IT. HES A PRETTY LITTLE PRINCESS he’s my favorite princess of light #and aqua is a knight in shining armor literally fairytale coded all three of them #Terra is surrounded by villains but he’s henchmancoded 😔#henchman who turns against the villain at the last moment type guy. Evil controlled good guy…#less perfectly fairytale but my favorite weirdo

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happyheidi · 2 years

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Rare Wedgewood Fairyland pot

#I love stuff like this #and the colors !! that shine!#I wouldn’t be able to stop staring at it if I owned this little piece of magic!#cottagecore #fairy #fairycore #art #fairyland pot #wedgewood #ceramics #light academia aesthetic #classic academia

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dumping-ideas · 1 year

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About Tsukasa's Commissioned Songs and Featured VS

The most important part of Yama-san 1,5-hour stream about Mr.Showtime is:

There's a specific reason why Luka is chosen for Mr. Showtime, but the reason is confidential.

SO THERE IS SOME SIGNIFICANCE IN THE FEATURED VS (or at least for Tsukasa's commissioned songs)!!!

I mean, the reason might be that they need more Luka in their commissioned songs, and Tsukasa getting KAITO again (even though he's in desperate need of one) would be getting kinda stale, but, BUT, what if there's some story significance to the featured VS in Tsukasa's commissioned songs...? Especially because there is one specific thing that is both mentioned in Sasakure-san's interview about Tondemo Wonderz and in Yama-san rambling:

There has to be some kind of mood dissonance in Tsukasa's commissioned songs. Just brightness is no good, but just darkness is no good either.

TONDEMO-WONDERZ have some JP comments (in the original version) that said there's just something slightly off(?) about that song---how even though it sounds upbeat and playful some parts of the lyrics are quite questionable when they pay more attention to it. I've mentioned that Tsukasa is hinted to be posing a lot to make everyone smile (which is hinted again in 88☆彡 and confirmed in Mr. Showtime lyrics), so the mood dissonance in TONDEMO-WONDERZ is probably about the incongruity between the music and the deeper reading of the lyrics. Sure, the singers are super happy about it, but is it fine to feel confident in your boisterous act and won't ever let anyone see what's behind that act...? The dissonance is only there if people pay more attention to the lyrics, but other than that, you can read the song as about never giving up no matter how many failures they faced and will face. So, yeah, super positive on the surface, kinda disturbing if you dig deeper into it.

The featured VS, WxS!KAITO has been largely recognized by fans (with hints in multiple event stories) as Tsukasa's ideal self. A gentle, reliable, mature leader who can do anything and is always able to give a solution to everyone's problem that everyone depends on. Some fans also have a small critique before about how TONDEMO-WONDERZ doesn't feel like a Tsukasa commissioned song at all and feels more like a WxS ensemble song, but that's because that's what WMS is about on the surface---the story of WxS and how far they have come. Read deeper and you realize that it is a Tsukasa focus event with multiple layers, and so is TONDEMO-WONDERZ.

So, the reason why KAITO is the featured VS (other than because he's one of the OG VS of Wonderland SEKAI) might be because Tsukasa is still showing off the 'him' that he wants everyone to see. Sure, he might be putting up a bravado, but he will never give up! He will embrace both successes and failures, and no matter what happens he'll keep getting back up, like a phoenix! He will make everyone smile!! That's the Tsukasa that everyone knows and loves! He's the dependable leader of WxS, as WMS demonstrate perfectly well.

88☆彡 (still my favorite commissioned song next to Kanade Tomosu Sora) is properly recognized as Tsukasa's commissioned song, not only because Tsukasa has a vocal focus (although shared with Rui and Nene), but because it's also a song that conveys a side of him that people might not realize before Dazzling Stage. Both the song and the lyrics are warm and kind, and between Tsukasa praying for everyone to be happy and WxS telling us it's okay to rest between rushing to our dreams, it feels like being hugged by the warmth of a gentle sun and pushed forward by encouraging friends to the point of tears.

(okay, I'm gonna stop my gushing now)

The mood dissonance in 88☆彡 is not a constant presence like it is in TONDEMO-WONDERZ, but in the early part of the song. How the singer 'realizes' along the way that 'this' is only a child's play (or only something that can only trick children), and that he's 'the anticipated pierrot who's not discouraged' and as long as everyone smiles without restraint, he can laugh as well. I think everyone is of the opinion that there's just something not right about how happy the singer is to play the pierrot just to make everyone smile. In fact, the part about the pierrot is later kinda confirmed but also debunked in Mr. Showtime (and Tsukasa's trained card in Sky's Edge).

One thing to note about 88☆彡 is the reff is about the importance of taking a rest. We've spoken about how everyone in Wonderland SEKAI relies on KAITO, but another running storyline in Wonderland SEKAI (especially after Dazzling Stage) is that everyone in Wonderland SEKAI wants KAITO to rest and take a break from all his responsibilities. However, none of the VS and other residents of SEKAI is capable of replacing him, and so he has to step up again. Of course, he isn't mad, and it's more about gag shenanigans, sure, but tilt your head, squint your eyes, and you can kinda read it as KAITO not being able to step down from his 'reliable leader' role yet---and that is what Tsukasa still feel at this point in the game. This Tsukasa is the Tsukasa who has faced his pain and childhood loneliness, but I think this is just the surface.

KAITO might be chosen for 88☆彡 because this song conveys Tsukasa's caring and gentle personality that influences KAITO, and also how he should take a rest from his 'reliable leader' act. But Tsukasa couldn't (and wouldn't) step down that easily because everyone is still expecting him to fill that role, to be 'Tenma Tsukasa' that never waver.

However, Mr. Showtime and Sky's Edge finally shows the 'ugly' side of Tsukasa behind all his posing in TONDEMO-WONDERZ and his gentleness in 88☆彡. In other words, the other side of the 'reliable leader' that he has been showing to WxS, everyone around him, and even himself all this time.

Mr. Showtime... Oh, I wonder where I should start with this... Rather than a mood dissonance, this song sounds like a mysterious, secret, late-night circus show where everyone is laughing and having fun but you know there's something off about the circus... There's just some lurking darkness(?) and a deep melancholy in the music no matter how stylish it sounds. Fitting, because even if the song is about how the singer doesn't give up on shows (life) no matter how ugly and hopeless he feels, some highlights from the lyrics alone we have these lines:

The monologue echoes in the world (stage) where I was left alone

Is it impossible for me to do this and that?

I can't reach out at all. I don't think I can. To the stars I wished on.

Why? How come? I feel pathetic......

Popcorn didn't pop (I can't hear any hand clapping). It's getting burned, and it's a flavor of (tastes like) defeat. It tastes so bitter

Am I taking the long way? Am I making a fruitless effort?

This is not funny at all. I'm pathetic. I can't satisfy myself.

Even when the sky is dark at night, even when warm tears are shed blow away my melancholy.

Oh, flowers (lights) and songs (sounds), please comfort me; see?

The greed of an ordinary man; crawl to move forward.

Narcissist fools himself; give it your all and act like you are the brightest star.

Bluffing is fine! Am I having too much confidence?

Huge bluffing on the stage; even if I get scolded harshly.

So many negative thoughts compared to his previous commissioned songs, wow. Tsukasa really doesn't hold himself back when he decides to stop fooling everyone and himself, isn't he?

And this song might even reference his previous commissioned songs! The part about bluffing might be referencing how he's 'posing' to save everyone and make everyone smile in TONDEMO WONDERZ, and also the 'pierrot' in 88☆彡 (in all songs this is treated as a good thing, although Mr. Showtime tells us the 'pierrot' isn't as strong as previous songs hinted he is) , and the part about 'taking the long way' and 'the merry-go-round (thought process)' might be referencing the 'going around in circles' in 88☆彡 (while previously it's treated as something positive, it's treated as a negative thing in Mr. Showtime).

But geez, now it's really blatant who Tsukasa is, isn't he? It's not like he doesn't have any worries, it's just that he only 'presents' the confident part of himself in front of everyone---for everyone's sake, including himself, so he can always be the 'reliable leader' and the 'never-gives-up pierrot' that everyone can rely on. He manages to work around his problems due to his unrelenting diligence in front of challenging hurdles, but his worries about his acting skills all the way back in Pop in My Heart only finally comes to a climax in Sky's Edge, where he breaks down in tears because he knows he's pathetic and hopeless and still so far away from the place he wants to reach.

And that's probably why Luka is chosen to be the featured VS for Mr. Showtime.

See, even in the story lore itself, although we have so many details about Wonderland SEKAI, the game hints that we need to know Tsukasa more to know more about his SEKAI which, judging by how WxS storyline never touched Wonderland SEKAI and their mechanics, might be something of a plot point in the future. And the side story has hinted that there's something slightly off about Luka's sleeping tendencies. We know that she's sleeping when everyone is happy... but Wonderland VS never gives Rui and the players the exact why she is the way she is, just that it's involving Tsukasa's feelings somehow. However, the fans speculated (and the game also hints) that because Luka is sleeping when everyone is happy, she's awake when someone feels troubled over something---in Mr. Showtime, it's Tsukasa.

Back to Mr. Showtime, the fans (in JP, EN and KR from what I've observed) have noticed that Luka only opens her eyes in a few scenes---the reffs, the bridge, every time she appears with Tsukasa, and one where her lyrics is 'Until the day comes (the hands of the clock point to the closing time)'. Possibly hinting that this isn't the end of his worries.

So, it can be said that Luka is chosen because this is (one of(?)) Tsukasa's worries. Mr. Showtime is Tsukasa's first commissioned song where he doesn't try to hide the 'lesser' parts of himself with a happy-go-lucky attitude or purer feelings, unlike the songs where KAITO (his ideal) is featured.

However, he's still 'not there' yet because he's going back-and-forth by treating his life as only a show. Remember that the commissioned songs are canonically born from the character's feelings, so what does that say about Tsukasa where he still hides behind the pretense of a show, and even calls himself by the moniker Mr. Showtime? It might be because for Tsukasa, he is an actor in his show/life, only pretending to be the future star that he calls himself as, and/or maybe because he's not ready to show others his 'ugly' side yet.

But it's not like the song is all gloom and doom, because the song is about trying to reach your dream with ladders, no matter how ugly, pathetic, hopeless, and useless your effort and struggle is.

......Putting it like that sounds super depressing, but the fact still stands that even despite feeling all that, the singer doesn't want to give up. Only just now, compared to the two previous commissioned songs, Tsukasa manages to voice out his anxieties better(?).

But I don't think this is not the depth of Tsukasa's darkness(?). Somehow this feels just like the tip of the iceberg. We haven't even touched his baggage from his childhood days yet, only getting a glimpse of it here and there.

And with Tsukasa saying Show Must Go On---Mr. Showtime's show still doesn't end yet. He's still playing the 'reliable leader' and the 'anticipated pierrot' for everyone's sake, as can be seen in Sky's Edge too. That's why Luka's presence in this song doesn't feel like this is the end of his worries but the start of finally seeing him behind all his 'pierrot posing' and 'puppet-mastering'. And with the hints that we might get to see Tsukasa's origin in his next group event banner, I can't wait to see and hear his next commissioned song....... which will probably be a 3DMV (please be another 2DMV).

Other info that I can gather from Yama-san half-drunken (lol) ramblings about Mr. Showtime are:

The song is finished in September, and the final touches are done in November

The one who decides on who singing what part is the sound director in pjsk team with some input from the lyricist (in this case Hitoshizuku-P), not Yama-san.

Confirmed that in the original version, Len is in Tsukasa's position and vice versa.

The theme they are given are showtime, stage, and circus(?). They read the main story, HItoshizuku-san iirc read all of WxS key stories to write the lyrics. Yama-san has no particular feelings for any WxS members.

They are asked to keep the characters (esp. the one they were commissioned for) in mind when writing the lyrics.

Whether they were told about the backsides of the characters (things that aren't mentioned in event stories yet) or the content of the event story they were commissioned for is confidential.

Also, Sasakure.UK said Tsukasa's light is very bright because he overcame a deep darkness... but did he, though? Sky's Edge has him just properly faced how difficult it might be to be the star he wishes he will be. Who knows, Tsukasa might have just forgotten about the dark feelings he had like TONDEMO-WONDERZ and Dazzling Stage implied.

#proseka #project sekai #hatsune miku colorful stage #pjsekai #analysis #tsukasa tenma #tenma tsukasa #it's been so long since i write anything this long wow #and there's that little tidbit that confirm tsukasa's stance on wxs future disbandment in mr.showtime too #i agree with sasakure-san that a light is very bright because it has to shine in a very deep darkness #or something along those lines lol #the transition of colorful -> white -> dark of tsukasa's 2dmv commissioned songs is very neat #so does that mean whenever we'll get wxs!miku as the featured vs for tsukasa's com song it'll be something significant??

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