#and i spent the last four hours drawing my post- As the World Caves In Kyo

[tanjir0se]

As the World Caves In, pt II

Pairings: Rengiyuu (Rengoku x Giyuu) Words: 5.4k (7.8k total) Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Everybody Lives AU Warnings: (full fic) Graphic depictions of canon-typical violence, medical procedures, blood, bodily injury

If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything, I swear. 

It was now or ever. And now he’d gotten so close to never, closer than he’d ever thought he’d get in all his wildest nightmares, that the unbridled fear of it now carried the words unspoken up his windpipe, threatening to burst. 

“K-Kyojuro,” Giyuu began. And Kyojuro looked at him with those stunning, earnest eyes--eye--and Giyuu’s next words fell from his mouth in a huff. “Damn it,”

This is part 2/2. Read the previous part here!

You can also read the full fic on AO3!!

“You ought to be more careful, my friend!” Kyojuro chided as he unbuttoned Giyuu’s uniform. “Look, you’ve ruined another uniform shirt!” He was referring to the large slash on the shoulder of Giyuu’s uniform, courtesy of the demon they’d just taken down together. Though they’d only known each other a few months at that point, Giyuu had learned that Kyojuro apparently preferred to dress his wounds himself despite Giyuu being fully capable, and he knew Kyojuro better than to try to argue. 

He said nothing while Kyojuro frowned at his bare and bloody chest, appraising the long but superficial wound that spanned across his pale skin, coming to a stop at the hollow of his throat. He did tilt his head slightly back to allow Kyojuro to inspect the full extent of the wound, his quiet way of thanking him. Kyojuro hummed to himself. His golden eyes suddenly flicked from Giyuu’s wound to his face, stealing away Giyuu’s breath in a surprised huff. 

“Does this hurt?” he asked, abruptly serious. Giyuu shook his head. Rengoku had a habit of making him lose his train of thought when he looked at him like that. “You shouldn’t have jumped in front of me. I would have been alright!”

Giyuu stared at him. The demon they’d been fighting had prepared one vicious strike right after another, while Rengoku had been finding his footing from the previous. Rather than allow the strike to land on the Flame Hashira, Giyuu had stepped in with dead calm, both sparing Kyojuro from the attack and causing it to fall on himself. 

To Giyuu, his actions made perfect sense. Kyojuro was obviously the superior Hashira. He felt it only natural to protect the greater asset to the demon slayer corps, even if it meant putting his life on the line. 

Kyojuro raised an eyebrow and cracked a small grin. “I know that look.” He said. It was the look Giyuu did when he was about to try to argue with him on something: brows slightly furrowed, gaze steady with heavy lids, lips parted. Realizing he was caught, Giyuu relaxed into a half smile and allowed Kyojuro to gently dab dirt and debris away from his wound. 

“You may be reckless,” Kyojuro began, “But I have to admit, that eleventh form is incredible! How on earth did you learn something like that? Ah, I bet I could practice for a hundred years and never even get close!” His gaze now focused on Giyuu’s wound, he didn’t notice how bright pink his friend’s face had become. Kyojuro spoke highly of everyone, but praise of his swordsmanship coming from someone as incredible as him was still a high compliment. 

Kyojuro continued. “Such fantastic work, I’m truly lucky to be on your good side!” He laughed and patted Giyuu’s chest with one hand and retrieved a first aid kit with a suture needle with the other. His hand was rough but warm against Giyuu’s permanently cold skin. 

“For now.” Giyuu joked back. Kyojuro blinked once, surprised and a little disbelieving that Giyuu had actually cracked a joke, but after noticing the tiny upward tilt of his lips, smiled even wider and laughed even harder. 

“I’d better toe the line then! Otherwise I’ll be the one needing stitches!” He laughed at his own joke while stitching his wound and Giyuu actually smiled along. Few could melt through his icy silences like Kyojuro could. Few understood what he was trying to say even when he was silent like Kyojuro did. “Ah, you always know how to make me laugh.” Kyojuro added with a sigh that made Giyuu’s heart ache. 

Kyojuro’s half-open eyes saw white, made hazy by tears clinging to his dark lashes. White drifted above him, and for a moment he drifted with it, unaware that he was even conscious, just floating. Once his mind returned to him he tried to blink to dispel the haze but found himself unable, paralyzed, flat on his back and floating through nothingness. For a few moments he believed himself to be dead. Until the pain struck him. 

He considered himself no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything else. His entire body felt shattered. Even something as simple as breathing was a battle, as if his lungs and the walls of his chest themselves were locked in combat against one another. If he was indeed dead, this must be hell. 

He thought so, until he heard a distant voice reaching to him from beyond the endless white oblivion around him. There were gentle hands on him, as if bringing him out of the haze and back into reality. 

Someone was cradling the back of his head, tilting it slightly upward as they removed bandages from the left side of his face. The light changed slightly as they did so, though nothing came into focus. Fingers brushed lightly over his left eye. Whoever the hands belonged to, whoever was nursing him, sighed. 

The bandages were replaced. A warm rag brushed against the aching skin of his arms. A hand rested lightly against his chest, directly over his heart, feeling it beating steadily. Kyojuro still couldn’t move or speak but whoever was tending to him apparently didn’t mind. The voice was silent while they worked but the silence was as gentle as their hands. That silence, its softness, the coolness of the hands on his body reminded him of something…

The haze slowly began to lift, as if his nurse’s gentle tending was pulling him back up out of the nothingness and into reality. As his mind cleared he groped for anything to anchor him back to the present; he remembered a cold wind, a column of flames. 

“Another letter from Tanjiro today.” His nurse said quietly over the rustle of papers. “And…one from Uzui.” 

Kyojuro would have leapt out of bed, if he could move. The kids! The train! The upper rank! I’ve got to get back there!  Kyojuro wanted to reach out, tell the speaker I don’t care about a bunch of letters when Tanjiro and the others could be in danger— 

A letter from Tanjiro? He’s alright?

“Uzui’s letter first, then?” The voice said. More rustling of paper. A clearing of the throat. “Dear Rengoku, I apologize for my absence, since this damn mission is taking longer than I expected, I’m absolutely certain you’re beside yourself with grief that yours truly isn’t there with you—” the speaker scoffed, and Kyojuro would have laughed too, if he could move. “Anyways, I’ll spare you the non-flashy details and regale you with the full story when I can see you again. Please get better soon, the mansion is too boring without you. Tengen.” 

In full earnest now, and with little else to do but lie there, Kyojuro tried to remember what had happened. The last image he could conjure was the electric flashing of blue and pink, a crazed laugh, and distantly, someone crying and calling his name. 

He assumed he was recovering in the butterfly mansion, but how long had it been since he’d fallen unconscious? Long enough that he was getting letters. He wondered if he’d gotten any from Senjuro. Or Giyuu. 

Giyuu. 

He’d just been dreaming about Giyuu. One of the first times he’d noticed Giyuu blushing at him, one of the many times Giyuu had made him laugh. That’s what the silence had reminded him of. With great difficulty, with everything he had, Kyojuro managed to grunt softly. 

Halfway through Tanjiro’s letter, the voice stopped. Even unable to see, Kyojuro could feel eyes on him, knew them to be deep and indigo and discerning. He sucked in a labored breath against the pain wrapping around his ribs, and this time managed a groan. 

“Kyojuro?” 

God I’d know that voice anywhere. 

Kyojuro’s eyes slid closed, then open once again, still heavy-lidded, still teary, but open. The fog around him lifting, the first thing he saw was his nurse, pale skin, a mess of raven black hair and a set of indigo eyes. 

In spite of everything, he smiled. “Giyuu,” he murmured. 

Giyuu felt his heart stop in his chest, his relief so intense it nearly paralyzed him. Kyojuro was looking at him. Kyojuro was alive. His world had crashed back into orbit again. He grabbed his friend by the arms and held him there tightly, desperate not to let him go again. 

“Kyo! God—” Thank god, thank god you’re alright! I was so worried, I was lost without you! His throat was so tight he could hardly breathe let alone speak. “You’re awake.” He managed stupidly after a moment. Kyojuro opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out for a moment. For once, Giyuu actually spoke instead. “Kyo…” he found himself saying again. 

Kyojuro lifted his head and tried to sit up, straining against the unbelievable pain that shook his entire body. He caught a glimpse of a large, blood-shadowed bandage over his abdomen before his forehead suddenly bumped into Giyuu. He must’ve been closer than he’d thought. The unexpected bump sent him back down against the bed with a groan. Giyuu still hadn’t taken his hands off of his arms. 

“Please don’t try to get up.” Giyuu murmured. “Your depth perception is probably quite off.” 

Kyojuro frowned at him and opened his mouth to ask why he’d say that, but another bright pulse of pain behind his left eye answered the question for him. Giyuu watched him with an expression Kyojuro had never seen him wear. His eyes were wide, tearful, endless. His pale lower lip trembled along with his hands, though he didn’t say anything.  There was about a million things Kyojuro could ask: What happened? Where are the kids? How long has it been? He decided on something different. 

“Kyo, huh?” He asked, his lips turning slightly upward into a smile. Giyuu stared. “Where’d that come from? I like it.”

Leave it to Kyojuro to say something like that at a time like this. That little smile on Kyojuro’s lips made Giyuu want to smile with him, to laugh and grab him tightly and never let him go. But he remembered the feeling of those lips against his, the taste of blood as he breathed for him, and the beginnings of his smile faltered. He came so close to never seeing that smile again. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on his shoulders so heavily that Giyuu dropped his head down and pressed his forehead against Kyojuro’s arm, as if in prayer. Overcome. 

Kyojuro watched him and his heart ached. He’d never seen Giyuu this upset, or at least he’d never shown it this plainly. It seemed like a fairly strong reaction to a simple battlefield injury…there must be something more to this situation he didn’t understand. He called Giyuu’s name softly and waited for him to look up. “I’m alright.” Kyojuro said, softly for once, his throat dry and raw. “It’s alright.”

Giyuu looked up. “No, Kyo, you’re not. You were dead.” His brows fell heavily over his eyes in apparent anger. “I had to beat your heart for you, I—I had to breathe for you!” His voice was low, tightly measured because if he spoke any louder or with any more ferocity he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep tears from falling. 

There was a brief silence while Kyojuro appeared to consider what he’d said. “And the train passengers? The kids?” 

Giyuu’s eyes briefly widened in shock, but his brows were quick to pull down again. “Are you not hearing me? You were dead. It’s nothing short of a miracle that you aren’t dead now!” Kyojuro looked at him, still waiting for his answer. Giyuu’s frown deepened but the quiver in his lower lip betrayed him. “Will you worry about yourself, just for one moment?” 

Though Giyuu had pulled away, Kyojuro still found an errant strand of his hair to curl between his fingers. “Why would I do that, when you do it so well?”

“Kyojuro, please.” Giyuu begged. “You—” he dropped his gaze again and struggled to conjure the words he meant. “You’ve been in a coma for more than three months. An upper rank had his arm through your solar plexus!” Kyojuro managed to look down at that shadowed bandage on his stomach, then back up at Giyuu as he continued.

“Kyo, you may never wield a sword again. You came very close to never breathing again! And I—” he snapped his mouth shut and averted his gaze from Kyojuro’s. 

Still fighting through shockwaves of pain, Kyojuro watched as Giyuu stared at the bandage on his stomach. “Giyuu.” He said gently, cautiously. He knew Giyuu to have a temper, but he was acting differently than Kyojuro had ever seen, like there was something he needed to say but couldn’t find the words. “If I would have died, I would have done so gladly! It’s the risk we take as demon slayers—” he fell into silence as Giyuu looked back up again, his eyes filled with tears. 

“Am I supposed to have been glad, too?” He asked bitterly. “You talk about yourself like your life is not worth anything! As if—” he stopped again. His breaths were coming faster and faster now. Giyuu did not continue, so Kyojuro did. 

“My life isn’t worth any more than anyone else’s…” he began. Apparently on a roll of surprising him, Giyuu cut him off. 

“Well it isn’t worth any less, either!” He exclaimed, not shouting, but with an intensity that rivaled Kyojuro’s. “God you remind me of Sabito!” He added in a huff. 

That stopped Kyojuro dead, all attempts at argument shut down. Giyuu never mentioned his family. Not even silently. He’d only learned he’d had a sister after they’d already known each other for more than a year. Sabito and Makomo he only learned of through Urokodaki. He watched Giyuu’s face and waited for him to continue. He did, though silently. 

Giyuu looked down and shook his head, his brow furrowed. You’re making this so difficult. Kyojuro watched his jaw clench and unclench, his mouth opening for a moment before clamping shut again. I need to tell you something. Fat, heavy tears fell from his eyes and onto the backs of his hands, which tightened themselves onto the blanket near Kyojuro’s forearm. It’s killing me. 

Looking down, head bowed, Giyuu was thinking of the bargain he’d made. If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything. He felt as overwhelmed as he was when he’d first come to the horrific scene at the train crash, his world spinning. His foolish and hopeful and frightened heart cracked deeper and deeper and threatened to come apart altogether as he tried to find the words to make Kyojuro understand.   

It was a long time before Giyuu spoke aloud again, and when he did, his voice shook. 

“Kyojuro.” he finally said. “You think to be brave is to be selfless. As if you have no regard at all for your own life. That isn’t bravery. It’s self destruction.” He remembered the feeling of Kyojuro’s ribs snapping beneath his hands. He remembered feeling Sabito’s, too. He couldn’t meet Kyojuro’s gaze, knowing without trying that the look he found there would burn his resolve away in an instant.

“You may think your life isn’t worth more than anyone else’s, but—” closing his eyes, Giyuu breathed out a sigh. “It is. To me.”

That was a surprise. Kyojuro stared at him, his shaking hands and the gaze that refused to meet his. He was even more surprised to find a faint pink blush spreading over Giyuu’s cheeks and nose. 

They fell into silence while Kyojuro watched Giyuu’s blush deepen. 

He’d always loved Giyuu the same way he loved anyone or anything else: loudly. My friend, how wonderful to see you! You always know how to make me laugh! Every compliment, every smile, Kyojuro was saying it over and over without ever saying it. I love you I love you I love you. 

But Giyuu had never been the type to do anything aloud. He loved quietly, privately, almost invisibly if someone wasn’t paying attention. Knowing his order at their udon cart without asking. Stepping in front of him to spare him a strike from a demon. Gripping onto the blankets of his cot, unwilling to meet his eye, unwilling to let go. I love you I love you I love you. 

Kyojuro was more than glad to allow their I love yous to remain unsaid, unspoken but still there, always there. He had become fluent in Giyuu’s body language, the soft silence that fell between them when they were together. 

But now the silence was uneasy with tension, as if there was something aching to be said. 

If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything, I swear. 

It was now or ever. And now he’d gotten so close to never, closer than he’d ever thought he’d get in all his wildest nightmares, that the unbridled fear of it now carried the words unspoken up his windpipe, threatening to burst. 

“K-Kyojuro,” Giyuu began. And Kyojuro looked at him with those stunning, earnest eyes--eye--and Giyuu’s next words fell from his mouth in a huff. “Damn it,” he cursed, moving as he spoke, finally releasing the blanket and grabbing instead onto Kyojuro’s arm. 

Before Kyojuro could ask what he needed to say, Giyuu had closed the distance between them, taken him gently but quickly by the sides of his face, and kissed him.

Kyojuro was so surprised he didn’t have time to move or react, just let Giyuu kiss him, his hands gripping tightly onto the sore sides of his bandaged face. Eyes wide open Kyojuro watched Giyuu’s brow pull up, his eyes tightly shut as if in great pain. 

And he was. Giyuu had never felt such agony, such elation, such horror at feeling Kyojuro’s lips on his again. It had never occurred to him until that moment that Kyojuro may not feel the same as he did, that his friend—could he call him a friend?—may be shocked, or worse, disgusted. But he couldn’t bring himself to care, now that Kyojuro’s lips didn’t taste like blood anymore. 

The ecstasy of finally letting out what had been clawing up the inside of his throat since the first moment he ever laid eyes on Kyojuro, bright and beautiful in the Master’s garden, and the fear of losing him, the trauma of coming very close, raged a battle in his chest that crashed through the rest of his body until he finally was forced to pull away, gasping. 

Kyojuro didn’t dare speak, just watched as Giyuu slowly let his breath out and leaned back. 

“I can’t lose anyone else I love.” Giyuu concluded. His voice was no louder than a whisper and yet it echoed through the room as if he’d shouted it. The fear eventually coming out on top in the battle raging in his aching heart, Giyuu tried to move fully away, to stand and brush off his haori and regain whatever dignity he had left. Once again Kyojuro’s hand came down on his wrist, stopping his escape. 

Kyojuro stared into his face until Giyuu looked at him, marveling at what he’d just done. Kyojuro had known for a long time that he loved Giyuu. And he’d known that in his own, quiet way, Giyuu loved him too. But now he’d said the quiet part out loud. What bravery it must’ve taken. Kyojuro looked at Giyuu’s lips, pale and thin and pressed into a hard, nervous line. He looked down and stared at Giyuu’s wrist in his hand. He released it, but captured Giyuu’s hand instead. 

He kissed the back of Giyuu’s hand, his fingers, the inside of his wrist, the back of his forearm, pulling him down and down again until their faces were inches from each other, indigo eyes meeting gold. All those times he’d watched Giyuu flush pink at something he’d said, all the tiny moments he’d noticed the tiny changes of expression on his face, and Kyojuro had never dreamed of kissing him. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he’d accepted long ago that they would always share something unspoken, and that would be enough. 

They stared at one another, breathing heavy. Giyuu watched as Kyojuro’s eye traveled down his face and landed on his lips before Kyojuro pulled him down far enough to kiss him back. 

It was as if he’d never been injured in the first place. All the pain that had rattled his ribs just moments prior was gone and it was a hundred times worse. His chest no longer ached and it ached more intensely than ever before. In fact he’d never felt more aflame, Giyuu’s icy cold lips on his burned away any other thought besides Giyuu’s name. 

He felt Giyuu take a breath and relax against him. He felt his lips part slightly beneath his. And then in spite of himself, in spite of everything, Kyojuro smiled. 

Giyuu felt Kyojuro’s lips turn upwards against his, then felt him shake slightly as he began to laugh. Giyuu opened his eyes and found Kyojuro’s closed in joy, his head thrown back as far as he could manage while still lying in a cot, laughter beginning to peel from him like church bells. If it were anyone else, Giyuu would assume they were mocking him. But not Kyojuro. 

“What could you possibly be laughing at?” Giyuu murmured, resting his hand on Kyojuro’s cheek. Kyojuro tried to stifle his giggles and Giyuu realized how red his friend’s face had become. 

“All that time,” Kyojuro began with a sigh. “All that time I wanted to kiss you…Who knew I had to do was die!” He laughed again despite the pain in his stomach. Giyuu frowned at him, trying very hard to be serious. 

“That isn’t funny.” He chided. Kyojuro just laughed harder, louder, stronger, as if Giyuu’s kiss had healed him. Giyuu rolled his eyes, but for once he didn’t think about how close he’d come to never hearing that laugh again. He didn’t think about how Kyojuro’s eyes had been staring blankly up at nothing, how his golden skin had paled and his chest fallen still. That laugh was like the sun parting through clouds, and for once Giyuu just sighed and chuckled with him. The sound of his laughter made Kyojuro laugh even harder until they both devolved into giggles. 

Since Kyojuro’s laughter was both very distinctive and quite loud, it was bound to attract attention as other inhabitants of the butterfly mansion began to follow the sound. Giyuu leapt nearly a foot in the air when he heard a voice from behind him. 

“Mr. Rengoku?” Giyuu quickly moved back from Kyojuro, who released his hand, though both relaxed when they saw Tanjiro standing in the doorway, his eyes already filled with tears. “Mr. Rengoku!” Tanjiro shouted, and sprinted forward. 

“Young Kamado!” Kyojuro grinned at the way Giyuu moved back to allow Tanjiro in beside him. “Ah, how good to see you!” 

All Tanjiro managed to say was his name as his eyes welled with tears. Kyojuro put his hand on his head. “Don’t cry, I’m alright!” He said softly. “Besides, I don’t want you tearing that belly wound open again!” 

Tanjiro looked up, then at Giyuu, whose face was neutral and measured. “Mr. Rengoku, my stomach is all healed. It’s been three months.” 

“Ah. So it has.” Kyojuro shifted and tried to get a better look at the boy. Without speaking, or having been asked, Giyuu slid his arm beneath Kyojuro’s shoulders to help him sit up. 

Tanjiro couldn’t help but let out another sob. “I’m so glad you’re alright! Mr. Tomioka hasn’t left your side since you got here!” Though escaping Tanjiro’s notice, Giyuu went bright pink and set his jaw. Kyojuro grinned at him. 

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” He said softly, speaking to Tanjiro but looking at Giyuu as he helped him settle in the new, more upright position.  

Next to follow the sound was Shinobu herself, who was so surprised upon appearing in the doorway to find Kyojuro looking up adoringly at Giyuu, holding him by the shoulders, his face bright pink, that she actually froze for a moment. It did not take her long to realize what Giyuu had done, and she smiled, blinking away tears. Finally. 

Then she put her hands on her hips, blinked the tears away, and gave Giyuu the chiding of a lifetime for daring not to tell her that Kyojuro had awoken. Inosuke appeared next, already yelling, leaping onto the foot of Kyojuro’s bed and declaring Kyojuro the master of death itself. Zenitsu was quick to follow, carrying a half-awake and tiny Nezuko with him. Once her bright eyes fell onto Kyojuro’s she leapt from Zenitsu’s arms and joined Inosuke on the foot of Kyojuro’s bed, her delighted voice muffled by her muzzle but still clearly excited. 

Any Hashira who wasn’t on a mission joined them. Mitsuri’s bright—if shrill—sobs of joy briefly drowned out anyone else’s attempt at speech, Sanemi sternly but firmly put his hand on Kyojuro’s shoulder, his jaw clenched tightly, Gyomei offered a prayer of gratitude. But the room stopped when Senjuro arrived. He stared at Kyojuro in the doorway for a long moment, as if disbelieving that he was really awake and breathing. It took both Shinobu and Giyuu to keep Kyojuro from leaping out of bed to greet him. Senjuro ended up sitting on the bed beside his brother, handing him letters that Giyuu had handed him and helping Kyojuro catch up on three months’ worth of missed correspondence. 

It was only then that Kyojuro’s attention was jarred enough from Giyuu to look around at the scene surrounding his sickbed. On a table behind Giyuu was a stack of letters, cards, and notes. Beside the letters were gifts, wrapped in colorful paper or fabric, stacks upon stacks of bento, boxes of candy, several vases of flowers, several more wilted bouquets of lying on the floor beside his table. All of it had been carefully organized; The notes had all been gently unfolded and stacked in chronological order, the bottom boxes of bento had been opened, likely emptied of their contents before they could spoil--it had been three months, after all--rinsed and replaced on the table. The flowers had clearly been traded out for fresh ones each time the previous bundle wilted. Kyojuro couldn’t help but smile even wider at Giyuu the more he noticed his work. There he was, saying it over and over without anybody but Kyojuro knowing. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Though typically Kyojuro never seemed to tire, he had just cheated death after all, and so much commotion from so many well-wishers was becoming difficult to keep up with. Shinobu was quick to pull rank even on other Hashira and clear the mansion out when she noticed his eyelids becoming heavy. Only Giyuu and Senjuro lingered while she caught Kyojuro up on his injuries. 

“I'm sure you’ve already noticed the injury to your left eye. It was ruptured. We treated it with medicinal ointments and managed to close the wound, but your pupil doesn’t react to light anymore…I’m afraid that eye will be permanently blind.” Kyojuro nodded slowly, remembering feeling Giyuu changing the bandages there before he was fully awake, remembering how he’d bumped into Giyuu’s head with his new lack of depth perception. 

Shinobu continued, though her voice became gentle and slow. “The wound to your solar plexus was the most severe. It went all the way through your torso and damaged your spinal cord.” She told Kyojuro. Senjuro and Giyuu had already heard this from her, but it hurt a little to watch Kyojuro’s reaction to the reality of his injuries. His eyes wandered down his own stomach, across the bandage, and toward his feet. “It caused damage to the nerves that control your left leg. So far it seems like it still moves, but I don’t know how strong it will ever be.”

You may never wield a sword again, Giyuu had told him. Kyojuro had breezed past the statement at first, just glad to be alive. Now, staring at his left foot and trying to wiggle his toes, finding with a strike of fear that he could only manage to move the foot a matter of millimeters, Kyojuro swallowed but set his jaw, stiff-lipped, trying to look strong in front of his brother. 

“I see.” He managed. 

Shinobu laid out an aggressive rehabilitation plan for him, to start as soon as he was ready, then parted with an oddly knowing look that made Giyuu squirm just a little. Nothing got past her. Senjuro lingered a bit longer, but as intuitive as he was, nothing really got past him either. He could see his brother’s head beginning to nod as exhaustion overtook him. And he could see the way it nodded toward Giyuu’s faithful and unwavering hand on his shoulder, his cheek falling against the back of Giyuu’s palm. Senjuro slid off of the bed and invented an excuse to leave, letting Kyojuro begin to drift. Before he left though, he met Giyuu’s eye. 

“Thank you, Mr. Tomioka.” He said quietly. Giyuu nodded silently at him; he’d been thanked by Senjuro several times before during the blur of these three months, once the boy learned how his brother had managed to survive the battlefield. Senjuro’s eyes were on Giyuu’s pale hand as Kyojuro’s cheek fell against it. “Thank you for saving my brother.” Senjuro continued in a whisper. 

Giyuu nodded again, though this time it was because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Senjuro left the two alone in the wing of the butterfly mansion, the light of evening turning gold around them. Giyuu nodded a third time, this time just to himself, because he couldn’t think of a way to say Kyojuro is the one who saved me aloud. 

He felt Kyojuro sigh against him and looked down. Kyojuro’s good eye was open again, looking down at his own feet. “What’s going to happen?” He asked, mostly to himself, trying to move his defective left leg and frowning when he failed. After a moment he looked up to meet Giyuu’s gaze. 

“I don’t know.” Giyuu admitted. With a defunct left leg and no depth perception, it was quite clear Kyojuro wouldn’t be wielding a sword any time soon, perhaps ever again. He’d be forced to retire as a Hashira. He swallowed and watched Kyojuro, who seemed to be thinking very hard. 

He’d been born a Hashira, the blood was in him from the start. He’d always thought he’d die a Hashira, too. It wasn’t just the cornerstone of his identity but the very basis of it; everything else was built up from there. His entire concept of himself was going to crumble without his sword, without the flames curling from his lips as he wielded it. Without the knowledge, the certainty that he would eventually die in service of their cause. Now, Kyojuro didn’t know what he was going to die for. 

Kyojuro looked into Giyuu’s eyes and watched them carefully as they began to shine. His ivory skin was glowing in the dying evening light, his hand was cool and soft against his cheek. He looked past Giyuu at the stacks of gifts on the table, the letters Senjuro had read for him and left for him. And he smiled. And he kissed Giyuu’s hand again and he smiled even wider, lips still against his cool skin. 

“Me neither.” He said softly. 

He did know what he was going to live for. 

Evening fell into night with Giyuu by Kyojuro’s side, where he’d been all along and would be as long as he allowed him to remain. Their hands eventually entwined again, Kyojuro every so often kissing Giyuu’s as if in awe that he could. Each time Giyuu felt a little more faint. Each time he watched Kyojuro’s chest move up and down he relaxed a little more. By the time the sun had slipped down over the horizon Giyuu was practically asleep too, leaning against Kyojuro’s cot. 

Kyojuro watched the back of Giyuu’s head, tiredly carded his hand through Giyuu’s mess of black hair, couldn’t keep from smiling. 

“I love you.” He whispered aloud to Giyuu. Because he could just say it now, because he still had breath to whisper it into the dark room, because his heart had kept beating long enough to see Giyuu turn slightly to look at him, eyes heavy. 

“I love you too.” He whispered back, aloud. The words came as easily as breathing now. He settled his head back against Kyojuro’s cot, keeping his neck craned back so he could look at him for just a little long before sleep overtook them both. I love you too, he said, silently.

[pebblysand]

OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

[thatdragonsdrabbles]

[Hmm, gee, I wonder what brought this idea to your mind! Pfft. Well, I guess I should be putting some of my more original work on this blog too. It's my writing blog, not a purely fanfic blog. Welp! *That dragon pretends to crack knuckles. Let's get down to business!]

[Note: Ameles is an original character of mine from a land entirely made by and populated by bugs and other “creepy crawlers.” Perhaps I will write a post that goes more in-depth with this world and the various characters I've created for the setting, but it's also still a work-in-progress, so things aren't all set in stone.]

Ameles/Fae reader, from nearly 200 writing prompts list 10: “ We cant keep this up forever. ” , 43: “ You’re special to me. ”, 132: “ I haven’t slept in four days… ”

“We can't, keep this up forever.”

The statement brought your attention from the vanity to your guard, antennae twitching.

To have been captured by the bizarre creatures of the land of Entomalia would have meant death for any fae, according to the stories. Any, except yourself, by some stroke of luck. It wouldn't have been difficult for them, either. This one easily towered over you, his willowy frame only dwarfed by his sister. (And that hardly mattered. Everyone here was insanely tall, for bugs—the sister seemed nearly nine-feet!) Even without the faebane blades they carried, every member of House Mantis seemed to have a form of dagger or other weapon literally growing from their arms and wrists.

Despite all of this, you had become quite comfortable living here, even as a prisoner. Your family's tales of this land had convinced you they were all emotionless, bloodthirsty people... until your capture and subsequent imprisonment several months ago.

Could you really call it a prison, though? Here you were now: In a room of your own, provided food daily, and practically given free reign of the gardens. You wanted for nothing, even if you still weathered the occasional hiss of disgust or disapproving clicks. And though you weren't allowed to be alone, you were also the safest you had ever been in your life. Things honestly could have been a lot worse.

So you asked Ameles what he meant.

Shifting, the mantis began to click. His mandibles, once a disturbing sight, had become easier to read with your time spent here. And his normally pristine clothing clearly needed a wash and tailoring. Something had him frustrated.

“It is... is still unorthodox,” he explained. The glow of the lights glinted off of his chitin as he fidgeted some more. “You are given special privileges and, Hyme has refused all offers from House Spider.”

You shuddered. Your last run-in with those spiders had... not been pleasant. Even now, the thought made your skin crawl, and you inched closer to Ameles.

Had they had any more trouble on your account? You had wondered if the increase in security had a particular cause.

“Nothing I wasn't able to handle.” You gave him a look, and his antenna swirled in a short circle. “It was, simply, a shortsighted fool with too much money for their own good. I took out your would-be kidnapper myself.”

Kidnapping? For you? There had been a few assassination attempts against House Mantis, but all had been dealt with swiftly, and were targeting the Ladies, not their prisoner... Well, if the kidnapper bad been sent from House Spider, you knew that it would have ended in you becoming a string of meals. You wondered if and why someone would go to the trouble for one mere fae, and shuddered again.

Noticing this, Ameles scoffed. “You are safe. Or, do you doubt me? My abilities?”

What? Of course not! You had seen him in action, a long whip lashing through the air as both weapon and tool. It was quite literally an extension of his arm, hidden within his wrist. Such a strange feature of his people... Sometimes he seemed quite invincible, which made any injuries he sustained rather frightening.

After a moment, the tension in his frame eased, though he still appeared rather stiff, even for him. “I... know you do not. You have, watched me train. That was an, unnecessary, accusation.”

That was an awful lot of pausing—and he was apologizing? Now you were rather worried. You stepped forward, lightly touching his arm. Despite his sometimes rough behavior, Ameles wasn't a terrible person like those old stories had made you assume. He had saved your life, though he had been the first to protest your presence in the manor.

If something was bothering him, you wanted to know. Was he all right?

He straightened, drawing his arm away. “Off! I am, fine.” It was hardly reassuring. When you stubbornly grabbed another arm, he lifted that one out of reach. The gesture brought the two of you closer, forcing you to tilt your head back to be able to meet his gaze. “Fae, do not... test me.”

But you wanted to help. What about your presence was causing them trouble? Was it disapproval from outside of his house, or within? Or was there more than simply the one “shortsighted fool” that wanted to steal you away? You may have been a prisoner, but you were being treated much better here than you had ever been at home. Barring the bad scare you'd been given at the beginning of this, after months in their custody you had grown to love this place. Through good behavior and some quiet moments, you had also earned House Mantis' trust and, you hoped, a soft fondness.

...especially Ameles.

The individual who, even with all of his protests, had still found the time to stop by the kitchens whenever you asked for a small treat before dinner. Who listened to you ramble for hours in the middle of the night about things he swore he couldn't care less about. The one who had stood by your side for the past few days, always prepared to both help and protect...

You paused, watching his antennae twirl. Squinting, you asked him when the last time he had changed his clothes was. Or bathed.

As his silence stretched, your voice may have risen a pitch as you pressed further. Had he truly never left your side, even in your sleep? How many days had it been? Wasn't he taking care of himself?

“That is... not important.” But you poked his chest until his hissed. “It is, my duty, and... I may have... I haven't slept in four days, but that is—”

You made a noise in alarm, reaching up to lightly slap his chest. Bad Ameles! Sleep was important! No wonder he was all out of sorts.

The scolding made Ameles give a much longer hiss, the noise seeming to emanate from all eight feet of his body. “I am not—a nymph! I am capable of making my own decisions, regarding my health and the duties entrusted to—”

You began tugging on two of his arms, trying to pull him with you. If he had been well-rested, it would've been like trying to drag a brick wall. Instead, he nearly stumbled while trying not to fall on top of you.

“What are you doing?”

He was supposed to be guarding your door, but he could hardly do that when he was so tired. If you were able to move him, an assassin would surely do him in. As he had said earlier, he couldn't keep this up forever. He protested, but you were adamant. The door was locked thrice over, including a deadbolt, and there were no other entrances into the room. Not even a window. Surely he could sit down and rest a spell.

“I cannot—my sister would, have my head for even considering—”

What Hyme didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

“You, want me to lie to her?”

He wouldn't have to. You would say he kept close, and that you were safe. Because that would be the truth. Besides which, you knew his sister wouldn't want him to work himself to death, no matter how strict she may appear.

Ameles stared at you, mandibles squeaking as they rubbed together. It took longer than you would've liked for him to cave, but eventually his antennae drooped as the exhaustion hit him once more.

“You... are a troublemaker, through and through.”

That was practically a “yes.” You couldn't help the small laugh as you led him away from the door. His hand caught a chair as you passed, and even in his tiredness he resolutely refused to take your bed. Still, sitting was better than nothing. A wash of relief soothed you as he finally sank into the chair, still watching you closely. The fact that it was situated between your bed and the door was not lost on you. Stubborn mantis.

There were many similarities between him and the much smaller bugs you had seen back home, but also a few differences, thanks to his interesting abilities. One of the latter was that Ameles had thin eyelids, that gradually slid shut until he'd begun to doze in his chair. Posed as he was, he appeared to you like a green-armored knight having finally taken a rest at his maiden's request, allowing her to protect him for a change. Triumph colored your smile as you reclined on your bed, paging through a book you had borrowed from his brother. You hadn't thought a bug person would be so interested in such sappy romance novels. It made you even more determined to figure out how to help, because in the end, they were just people. Quirky, difficult to understand, and sometimes difficult people, but people nonetheless.

In the last moment before he succumbed to true slumber, Ameles muttered, “...Creo... was right. You are special, to me...”

You had glanced up, a quiet “what” squeaking out of you.

“...don't know why, but must, keep safe...”

What exactly was he saying? Could he maybe... repeat that a little louder? But it was soon apparent he had already left the waking world. Glancing at the pages you'd just been reading, you weren't sure whether to accept his words as truth, or as a product of your own imagination. Either way, you buried your burning face into the book.

These bugs were going to kill you one day... and not in the way your family would have expected.

[gamerszone2019-blog]

No Man's Sky Beyond Review

New Post has been published on https://gamerszone.tn/no-mans-sky-beyond-review/

No Man's Sky Beyond Review

In 2019, No Man’s Sky

is the water fight of games. When your water balloons are stacked high and your water gun is full it’s an absolute blast. But inevitably, you run out of liquid ammunition and have to pause for several minutes, soaking wet and shivering, while you operate a hose and refill your stores for the next round of fun. While the recent Beyond represents another significant step in the right direction for No Man’s Sky that improves itself in almost every area, the uninteresting harvesting and survival mechanics that underlie it all remain incredibly grindy and frequently mind-numbingly tedious. It often feels like it’s been made by two teams with opposing views on game design, who are each tugging at either side of it until eventually agreeing to meet in the middle or tear it in half.At its best, No Man’s Sky plays like an increasingly elaborate interstellar Animal Crossing. You travel the stars and visit strange, procedurally generated planets in a never-ending quest for loot and money to spend on upgrades for your survival suit and weapon, ships to pilot, rovers to drive, and bases to build. Every time you think you’ll log off for the night, another notification pops up that reminds you about that one last thing you really wanted to do, and before you can say “I need an intervention,” it’s 5 AM and you’re redecorating your fifth base on some remote world or taming a bizarre creature that looks like the lovechild of Big Bird and an octopus.

Here’s how you tame and ride creatures in No Man’s Sky Beyond

It’s easy to appreciate the improvements and additions included in the Beyond update because they’re apparent as soon as you boot it up. Improved graphics highlight things like detail on your ships and a revamped tutorial and mission guidance system makes it much more clear what you should be working toward at any given time. Unlocking new technologies has been reimagined as skill trees that are easy to understand. And these are just a few of the highlights on the massive laundry list of things in the Beyond update that make No Man’s Sky vastly more interesting than it’s ever been.

With Beyond, No Man’s Sky is vastly more interesting than it’s ever been.

“

But the same things that make playing No Man’s Sky a wonderful, habit-forming odyssey that would make Tom Nook proud often work against you — like when you find yourself repeatedly grinding the same materials and crafting the same parts over and over again in an ongoing effort to fuel the numerous engines of interstellar life. You’ll spend tedious hours mining rocks to craft metal plates that you need to make starship engine fuel just so you can take off in your ship and see the still-impressive, completely seamless transition from ground to outer space and back again. And even though No Man’s Sky’s carrying limitations have been even further loosened with the Beyond update your inventory still fills up almost constantly, ensuring that the grind will never be defeated. With few ways to automate resource gathering, exploring the cosmos often takes a back seat to waiting for your mining laser to melt a tree into resources for minutes at a time.

And, considering how central exploration is to No Man’s Sky’s appeal, it’s staggering just how many mechanics still seem dead set on preventing you from doing just that. Why are your sprint and jetpack capabilities meters so limited, and why does using them draw from your life support meter? Why does every language have to be learned one word at a time, meaning that even after dozens of hours of playing you still can’t really understand any of the alien races you encounter? Why, for the love of God, does every planet in the universe have violent weather events every couple of minutes that require you to shut yourself indoors or hide in a cave and wait out to survive? Time and time again, No Man Sky begs you to explore it but then (quite literally) forces you walk, not run.

Hello Games’ Sean Murray walks us through Beyond’s many improvements in the video below.

It’s odd that No Man’s Sky still has so many irritating elements, because it’s also very clearly aware that they exist and tries to smooth over the issues rather than simply fixing them. For example, combat remains as dull and repetitive as ever, so the appearance of hostile lifeforms and robotic sentinel space police has been reduced instead of trying to make fighting them more entertaining. Space dogfights also remain monotonous and overly simplistic in Beyond, and while controls seem to have improved and encounters don’t drag on as long, fighting off pirates is never more than an annoying interruption to your travels.

Beyond brings NMS dangerously close to what we all thought it was when it was first revealed.

“

And yet, there’s something truly special about No Man’s Sky after the Beyond update that brings it dangerously close to being what we all thought it was when it was first revealed years ago. Getting lost among the stars, seeing strange and unique creatures, and claiming a piece of the nigh-limitless galaxy for yourself by building a home are all rewarding and all but completely unique to No Man’s Sky. It’s hard not to fall in love with it in the brief pockets of time where it isn’t forcing you to beat your head against a wall for an hour while you search for a deposit of copper but the stupid Dr. Seuss planet you’re on has is uranium.

In the course of my travels, I found myself stranded on a massive water planet filled with aggressive jellyfish, stared in awe at some bizarre life forms that were made up of levitating crystals, and explored the murky caves on an atmosphere-free moon. Of course, regardless of how they look every planet still has an identical loop of gathering materials, hiding from inevitable and frustrating storms of heat or ice or toxins, and maybe building a base or riding an animal or two along the way. But still there’s an undeniable rush of excitement in discovering and exploring a planet for the first time that doesn’t go away even after hours of play.

Beyond also alters and consolidates No Man’s Sky’s three main storylines into a more cohesive set of quests that intertwine, and they are much more accessible for it. One of the best-kept secrets of No Man’s Sky is that the story is actually fairly complex, with twists and turns that even go so far as to explain the reason behind the universe’s existence. But frankly, the vehicle by which the story is told – an endless chain of fetch quests and vague conversations with generic NPCs – makes the whole thing not at all worth the effort. Your time is better spent doing the things that are entertaining to you, finding your way to the end of the main quest lines only if you manage to find joy in doing so. (Or, y’know, YouTube exists.)

No Man’s Sky Beyond Screenshots

Multiplayer features have been drastically improved with Beyond, though it still falls far short of today’s standards in many ways – especially where organization is concerned. The Anomaly space station is now a social hub that allows you to encounter other players organically rather than by invite or chance (though doing so is still quite rare), and together you can undertake short group missions via The Nexus or even visit one another’s bases by stepping through a massive teleporter. The number of players in a single instance has been bumped up from four to eight on consoles and up to 32 on PC, but actually organizing activities together can be a bit of a nightmare. For starters, you’re given very few tools to find one another in the expansive galaxy, and unless everyone is communicating and staying together it’s easy to get lost or left behind with no easy way to rejoin your friends. If you find yourself without the required materials to launch or pilot your ship when everybody else takes off, for example, you’ll either get left behind by your friends or will hold up the group while you go shoot a laser at some plants for a few minutes. Sharing resources with one another is still, sadly and inexplicably, not an option.

Sharing resources with one another is still, sadly and inexplicably, not an option.

“

Most of the major and strange multiplayer glitches from last year’s NEXT update (in hindsight, a very funny name now that it’s the previous one) have been ironed out, though you’ll probably still encounter the odd bug now and again. I had incidents where my partner couldn’t see the enemies attacking me, or animation issues making it unclear when one of us was firing our mining laser. Playing with others makes the grind of No Man’s Sky much more bearable, but oftentimes because having someone to share in your pain can be really cathartic.

VR makes its debut in No Man’s Sky with the Beyond update (on PlayStation VR and PC, at least), and wandering around an undiscovered planet and hearing unknown critters walk up behind you is an exciting and sometimes unnerving experience. Using hand tracking with Move wands or Oculus/Vive/Index/etc controllers to aim your weapons and tools feels natural, even if you’re still just engaging in the usual monotony of harvesting. Using VR in space flight, on the other hand, is an overwhelmingly positive experience which benefits from your character being stationary and blurriness not mattering quite as much in the darkness of the void. And while it doesn’t fix the monotony of dogfighting, it absolutely makes it more immersive because you can look up through your ship’s canopy.

Watch 10 minutes of No Man’s Sky in VR below.

Movement options offer a static mode with teleportation and click-turning that can be a bit hard to learn but is easy on those of us with weaker stomachs, or a smooth-movement mode that acts the same way the non-VR mode does. However, on the PlayStation VR it was so low-res and blurry that it might make you lose your lunch like it did mine… twice. Still, seeing the galaxy of No Man’s Sky from a true first-person perspective can be a breathtaking experience, even if technical limitations mean there’s still a long way to go before it makes us feel like we’re really there.

Source : IGN

[ciathyzareposts]

Batman Returns – World’s Greatest Thumb-Twiddler (Lost!)

Written by Joe Pranevich

Who’s the dark knight detective that’s a hit with all the chicks? Batman! Your darned right. Welcome back to Batman Returns! Last week, I completed the first day by discovering (and stealing) an innocuous awards ceremony tape from the mayor’s office. We spent the day exploring and dealing with thugs from a circus gang, but did not spy either Penguin or Catwoman. Thus far, the game feels a bit thin with empty areas and not a lot that to explore thanks to the verbless interface. That said, the graphics are quite good and I’m enjoying bits of Danny Elfman in the soundtrack– his Batman theme is one of the musical highpoints of my childhood and adds so much to this game.

And yet, you might sense that something is off. As Alex Romanov noted in the comments to my last post, I made a critical mistake that I did not discover until the end of this session. Things didn’t go well for the Caped Crusader. Rather than whitewash it, I will narrate what happened and you can see for yourself how I spent the next four hours of play time. I am not sure whether I was completely doomed after the first day’s mistake or if there was some way that I could have recovered, but either way this is a “Lost!” post. I will try again from the start next week.

I thought he looked like the guy from Twins.

Day 2

Batman began his second day like the first one: sitting at his bat-desk and listening to the nightly news. The top story of the night is that Oswald Cobblepot, a deformed man with a penguin-like appearance, saved the mayor’s son from a kidnap attempt by the circus gang. We know (because we’re not idiots) that the Penguin orchestrated the whole scenario, but the gullible population swallows it and sees him as a hero. Perhaps Batman’s vigilante activities have primed them to accept another bird-themed hero..

I wish we had been present for this scene instead of being told about it on the news. In the movie, the circus gang attacks the mayor and his family at a tree lighting ceremony and escape through a manhole, only to have the Penguin emerge from the same (in his rubber duckie boat!) and return the child to his father. Neither Bruce Wayne nor his alter-ego are present for this scene in the film either, but we lose a lot by having it summarized by a talking head. Still, I cannot fault the game for trying to tell this story strictly from Batman’s point of view, especially as they are highlighting the detective aspect of his character.

The bat-computer is updated immediately with Penguin as a “person to watch”.

Racing to the batmobile, I find no new locations have opened up. I check Gotham Plaza, downtown, and the mayor’s office over again, but other than a few sporadic battles with the circus gang, I observe nothing new. I even search everything twice just to be sure. As far as I can tell, other than the news report at the beginning of the night, the second day has no additional content.

In the film, Penguin’s arrival on the scene is followed by a brief quest to find out his real identity. Penguin is taken to the hall of records where he searches for evidence of his name and his lost family. We later learn that Penguin used his time with the records to assemble lists of the Gotham elite’s firstborn children to abduct. The game skips this part and reveals his name immediately. Unless it comes up later, this is a lost opportunity because Batman spying on Penguin could have been a neat adventure game sequence.

Having found absolutely nothing to do, I retire for the evening and prepare for day three. I hope I am not coming off as down on the game already, but slowly mousing over rooms get boring after a while.

Day 3

Unlike the previous two, the third night does not even have a news update. There are general news stories about the decline of education standards and the increase in crime, but nothing pertinent to our case. I head to the batmobile for another evening of searching around. As before, there are no new areas to explore on our map.

I discover a clue in the mayor’s office: a stack of “party pictures” left on his desk. I scan them using my bat-scanner and return to the batcave. I do not know if there is a penalty if I had taken them instead of scanning them, but I’d rather not risk it. We cannot look at the pictures directly. Instead, we insert them into the evidence computer for processing. It reveals that they are photos from that mayor’s son’s first birthday party. There is also an option to extrapolate further, but the computer does not have enough evidence for additional conclusions. This is twice that Batman has gone to the mayor’s office and stolen something completely innocuous. We have yet to discover an actual clue.

World’s Greatest Stalker

I return to the streets to see if anything changed. Unsurprisingly, nothing did despite searching every room again. No matter how nice the graphics are, there are only so many times you can watch the same animations before you go a little nuts. The manual claims that you can fast-forward by clicking the right mouse immediately after selecting an action with you left, but I never got this to work.

There are only nine days in the game and we’ve spent three of them doing nothing. When does the plot start?

Now, I suppose.

Day 4

The fourth day starts with a news alert! The citizens of the city are sick and tired of gangs of circus performers roaming the city. They want a mayoral recall election and they want it now. Not coincidentally, Oswald Cobblepot is now the leading opposition candidate thanks to the city seeing him as the hero that they need. We know from the movie that this is all being orchestrated by Max Shreck as part of his plot to get a sympathetic mayor in office so that he can siphon electricity from the city, but the game doesn’t make that connection yet. The movie also shows Penguin eating raw fish and assaulting his supporters, but Mr. Shreck’s excellent stage-management of Cobblepot’s reputation somehow causes these incidents to be forgotten. The news even has the gall to complain that “Batman has disappeared” during these attacks; how many times have I run around the city beating up clowns in the last four days?

I explore the city again and find the standard array of empty rooms and meaningless combats. This time, I spy a feather on the mayor’s desk and pocket it. When I take that back to the evidence computer, I have my first real clue of the game! The computer identifies the feather as being from an Emperor Penguin, possibly one of penguins from an exhibit at the Old Zoo. The computer further believes that the feather is intended as a threat or a calling card, to tell the mayor that the Penguin is after him. Could the pictures from the previous night be a similar threat? What if they were taken by Penguin’s gang to show the mayor how closely he and his family are being watched?

Going to the zoo, zoo, zoo… how about you, you, you…

The best thing about this evidence is that I have a new location on the Batmobile’s map: the Old Zoo, in the southwest corner. I discover it deserted but ready for exploration. I’m not sure either from the game or the movie whether the zoo is still in operation or whether the remaining animals, including a large flock of penguins, were just left to starve on their own. I don’t think that Penguin could hide inside of an active zoo, but I also find it hard to believe that they would have left all of the animals behind in a closed one. Maybe I should blame Tum Burton for loving the idea of an abandoned zoo without considering the logistics of it.

A cave for polar bears?

The penguin exhibit!

The zoo is not a huge place and we can’t explore it very deeply. All we have is an overhead view where Batman is perched on a tree, plus views of the outside of “Arctic World” and a cave. We cannot go into “Arctic World”, although we can at least zoom in to the entrance of the cave. That’s where we discover our second piece of evidence of the night: an old circus poster. I scan that and return to the batcave.

The poster is for a circus that disbanded five years ago. The computer further deduces that the circus performers are the same ones that are terrorizing the city. That suggests that the thugs are connected to the zoo and, by extension, the Penguin! Holy moley! The movie makes this explicit much earlier, but I like the way the game is telling this story exclusively from Batman’s perspective.

Before concluding my most successful night yet, I take one more spin around all of the locations to see if I find anything new. I do not, but at least I feel better that the plot is starting up.

How did you get my Skype?

Day 5

I am more than halfway through the game! I considered ending the post here, but there isn’t quite enough content yet. The plot thickens immediately as the Penguin sends Batman a video message directly to the batcave. He wants Batman to know that he has a tape of evidence against the mayor that he will release soon. Once the people discover how corrupt their leader is, they will surely pick Penguin as his replacement. He claims that he is telling us this because he wants to “play fair”, but there is likely another reason. In the film, he’s trying to draw Batman out so that he can be discredited. I’m not sure if the game has the narrative ability to present that well.

Now that I consider it, the craziest part of the game is that you could possibly go from a petition to a recall election in less than a week. Just printing ballots and arranging polling stations would take more than that. Real world gears turn much more slowly, plus Penguin could be just as easily recalled if he won the election. In the film, the timeframe is less explicit but still condensed, starting from the tree-lighting and ending sometime before Christmas; four weeks at most.

Jinkies! Another clue!

I run through my well-practiced tour of every room in the city and find two new clues in the mayor’s office: a photo on a side-table and remodeling plans on his desk. I take them back to the batcave for further consideration.

Who is Byron Orton?

Thanks to our evidence computer, we learn that the photo is of the mayor and Byron Orton. “Who is Bryron Orton?” you might ask? The biographical computer reveals that he is the publisher of the Gotham Gazette and a tabloid called The Tell All. It appears that the mayor is courting him in an effort to improve his standing among the press and to get some positive coverage before the snap election. Mr. Orton appears to be an original creation for this game with no comic book or movie tie-ins, nor does he appear in any of the drafts of the script that I have located. I think– but I am not sure– that Byron’s image is actually Don Landon, a video editor on Batman Returns and a long-time engineer for Park Place Productions. This guess is based on a grainy photo in the manual for NHL Hockey (1992) for the Sega Genesis, so I apologize if I have made a mistake. This is as good a time as any to tell you that Batman’s citizen database has been gradually updated as the game progresses. Catwoman appears for the first time now, for example, plus Penguin’s entry has been updated to talk about the extortion threat. I don’t check them all every day to see what else might be different.

The plans are of a defense-oriented remodel of someplace, but neither we nor the mayor seems to be sure of where. The mayor’s notes suggest that he believes Max Shreck is up to something, but he doesn’t know what. The computer helpfully tells us that a ventilation duct is the weak point in the design, a detail that I am positive will come in handy later.

Dark Knights of the Round Table?

More importantly, discovering the plans opens up Shreck’s office on the map! It’s just across from Gotham Plaza; we can enter it through one of the rooftop screens that I had already found, but not until we knew that the location was important. That gives me a bit of hope that some of these empty rooms will be less empty before the end of the game.

Searching the room carefully, I discover a hidden compartment beneath the globe on the right hand side. I have to use the lockpick, but inside is a memo which I scan for further analysis. While in his office, I get attacked by more circus people, although I am not certain whether that is a programming flaw or further indication that Shreck and Penguin are in cahoots. Back in the batcave, we learn that Shreck’s was hunting to Penguin to use his men to inflame the crime wave. Doing so will undercut the mayor’s reputation, ensuring Penguin’s eventual win. Good thing this sort of thing never happens in real life!

Catwoman attacks!

Heading back out to the city, I am attacked by Catwoman outside of Shreck’s department store. She has no difficulty with any of the weapons that I have on hand, but she eventually leaves. Did she win? Did I win? I have no idea. My computer crashed immediately afterwards and I lost all “Day 5” progress, but she did not appear when I replayed the sequence. My guess is that she is a random encounter, but I’m not sure how to defeat her if I can’t find her.

Who is Dennis Barvel?

While digging around in the computer, I notice an alert that wasn’t there before: Dennis Barvel is listed as a “Person to Watch” and plans to strike at the jewelry store, one of the downtown locations, tonight. The database tells me that he is also known as “Dominic Best”, an armed robbery specialist that likes to target banks and jewelry stores. He just got out of a four-year prison sentence and is looking to strike again. He appears to be a game-exclusive and not in either comics or the film. I head to the location and wait all night (by pushing the “next hour” button), but he never shows up. We know that the original game was to feature some non-movie content, but that the studio nixed that idea much to Bill Kunkel’s consternation. Were Barvel and Orton plot threads that were excised but not removed completely? Is it coincidence that they both show up on day five, or would I have found more if I had searched the database every night? Alternatively, am I just doing something wrong and missed an important cutscene? I have no idea.

Thanks for reminding me!

Day 6

I start the next day without having solved the mystery of Penguin’s extortion tape. He’s even kind enough to video-call me again to remind me that I need to track him down. Thanks, Penguin! He reveals that his real motivation is to expose me, making himself the hero and Batman the freak. The nightly news reveals that there is renewed violence in Gotham Plaza, obviously part of the plot that Shreck and Penguin cooked up the previous day. While not connected to the main plot, I notice that Barvel is no longer listed in the computer. I missed whatever was supposed to happen with him, if anything.

At Gotham Plaza, I enter the fight of my gaming life. Batman has to face enemy after enemy. Eventually, even the Penguin shows up. He blocks everything I throw at him with an umbrella, although I do get him to talk to me after a well-timed bolo hits him. (Or maybe the timing is a coincidence; I am not sure.)

The Penguin is surprisingly effective with his trick umbrella for both attack and defense.

The “conversation” is a brief cutscene: Batman accuses Penguin of coming downtown to admire his villainous handiwork, but Penguin replies that as a mayoral candidate he’s only touring the scene of a major riot. Being down here tonight, fighting me, is apparently good for his image!

Smacking around some bats. You know.

Eventually, Penguin flees the scene– I am uncertain whether I won or lost the fight. He is immediately replaced by Catwoman. I don’t know if this is the fight that I was supposed to have with her on the previous day or related to the riot. If I land a couple of hits on her, we get a brief dialog scene from the movie where Catwoman acts indignant that Batman would hit a woman, before laying it on him with both barrels. She’s probably making some point here about early 90s feminism, but I’m too busy being beaten up by a woman wearing a latex catsuit to understand.

And it’s not okay to hit cats either.

This whole marathon feels like a final boss. Even after Catwoman leaves, I am hounded by circus performer after circus performer. Eventually, I have to run away because I am out of weapons and taking too much damage. When I return after a recharge, I fight only one or two more battles in the plaza. Nothing special happens after I do and I search the rest of the city to find absolutely nothing. I search everything multiple times because I know that I have to find the clues that will lead me to Penguin’s videotape. Still, I come up short.

Reluctantly, I flip over to day seven and the game ends immediately. Penguin’s tape is released, showing the mayor embezzling funds from the city. This scandal ends the mayor’s political career and rockets Penguin (and Max Shreck) into a position of power in the city. The election is done. Batman is disgraced. Game over.

Yeah, I know. He reminded me twice!

But recall elections here are pretty quick and easy to arrange.

You have failed this city. Green Arrow could have solved this case.

Do I have to play again?

There is a small part of me that wants to stop here with a “Lost!” post. I think we’ve seen much of what the game has to offer in terms of interactions and combat. I cannot bring myself to give up just yet, so my plan is to replay from scratch and see if I can find things that I missed. If I make it through a second time with nothing to show for it, expect a “Request for Assistance” but I have a fishy feeling that I know what I did wrong.

Even absent a “Request for Assistance”, advice is appreciated on the Penguin and Catwoman combats. I don’t have a strategy for those except putting the game on “Fierce” and setting my DOS emulator to fast-forward because the fights take ages and get nowhere. Is there an object or a combination of objects that I should be using to win those fights?

Time played: 4 hr 10 min Total time: 6 hr 00 min

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/batman-returns-worlds-greatest-thumb-twiddler-lost/