#(she wants to uplift them and keep her darkness to herself)

[greensaplinggrace]

the fact of the matter is that buffy ends up isolated no matter what the scoobies do because she bears the burden of the slayer alone at the end of the day and nothing can change that. the problem with this isn't that she's separate from them, it's that they don't want to acknowledge that she is, and in doing so they drive a wedge between them that just grows and grows. the best thing about spike is that he's similar enough to this other side of buffy to understand it and her by extension. he is the only person around who can support that side of her.

most of buffy's issues in season six stem from the scoobies rejecting a part of buffy that spike accepts. and this shame she feels for her reliance on spike and the presence of this darkness and isolation she cannot avoid is largely because of them. i'm sick of this bizarre assumption that pointing out where the scoobies go wrong in their relationship with buffy somehow equals an uncritical uplifting of spike. just because he understands her and represents a certain aspect of her doesn't mean he doesn't fuck up. i mean that's kind of the whole point of their season six dynamic. one of his biggest issues is that he thinks he's helping her by enabling her completely because he doesn't have the ability to properly identify the line between self acceptance and self destruction - pursuit of the id is one of his biggest character traits. that's what makes the end of season six and his decision to get the soul so interesting (although of course there's just as much i can say about the narrative framing of that in regards to lore consistency and the story's obsession with angel, but that's a whole other thing).

point is, the scoobies cannot understand all of buffy, and when they refuse to acknowledge this they destroy their chances of building any bridges to even a simple relationship with that other side of buffy or helping her carry that burden in any way. meanwhile, spike is in the proper position to understand buffy as the slayer and hold his own with her in such a way, but his definition of love is wholly obsessive and destructive. while i disagree that he's incapable of love and even of loving selflessly without his soul, i think spike's version of love in particular is self destructive in a way that enables buffy's own desire to hurt herself through hurting him (see the aforementioned shame regarding her shadow self). spike cannot identify why allowing buffy to give in to her dark side in such a way is bad because he struggles to understand how she could use this to resent herself - although i do think he realizes it's happening on some level.

spike is also buffy's only form of catharsis and the only one that actually listens to what she is saying during a time when everybody else is dismissing her because of the aforementioned inability to understand her as the slayer. it's a clusterfuck - and a clusterfuck that needed to be shattered with a hammer for any kind of relief. and quite frankly to disregard the scoobies' own part in this situation does a disservice to buffy as a character. to be honest, she deserves fucking better than what everyone in her life gives her, especially the scoobies, who grow to take her for granted and feel entitled to controlling her life as a way of keeping her conformed - again, due to the aforementioned lack of desire to acknowledge this other part of her that they cannot connect with.

which leads to season seven, where spike is the only person on the show who has developed and changed enough to remain at buffy's side helping her carry the burden. while everyone else suffered during season six, none of them opened their eyes to what they were doing to buffy - and if they did, none of them acted on it. spike is the only one to acknowledge the damage he's done and work to become better for buffy in any way he can. he is the only one that ends up able to carry that burden with her because he is the only one capable of facing the truth and acting on his desire to do better.

the fucking problem isn't that he hurt buffy - because to be quite frank everybody did - it's that he's the only person on the whole damn show to acknowledge his place in buffy's life, and to acknowledge the burdens she bears, and actively change himself for her. did you know he has almost all of the genuine apologies in the entire show? seven seasons and all of the harm the scoobies cause buffy, and it's fucking spike that is acting like a mature person capable of being a proper partner.

[lumi077]

Imagine.

A/N: Two posts in a day? the boredom caught up to me, and the words spewed out. Some short and sweet angst to welcome season two

Warnings: Canon HOTD incest (though no mention of it really), angst, implied reader death, character death, mourning, animal cruelty (free the dragons yall), slight comfort in the beginning that just fucking disappears, no real romance in this one. brief eludes to NSFW but very brief, fem reader, reader had a baby (Visenya), spoilers

Imagine grieving with Rhaenyra. You’re both mothers, birthed your own children. The marks of the battle shone brightly upon your bodies, widened hips and marks of stretched flesh on your once flat stomachs. You found more children in each other’s wombs, giving each other and your other half a bigger family than just one could have produced. 

But now, your family is lacking one child. A son, an adored little boy with brown hair and eyes, dimples, the cutest smile in all the seven kingdoms. He wasn’t just a second son in your found family, he was your little boy. You may have not birthed him, or been present in the act like you were with Aegon and Viserys’s creation. But he was just as much yours as he was Rhaenyra’s or Daemons. 

Holding her in the nights she would come back unsuccessful, no closer to finding the mangled body of your baby or his small dragon. Your arms tight around her waist, letting her face reside against your neck where you felt every sob that wracked from her body and ricocheted onto yours. No sleep would find any of you that night.

Imagine grieving with Daemon. You could never let yourself cry with your wife, needing to be strong so the queen could be strong. But your husband, normally so gruff, wrapping his arms around you late at night. Rhaenyra was asleep, her breaths even and you wonder if she’s dreaming about Luke. 

He whispers against your skin, letting your pieces break for the first time since the raven carried the news all the way to dragonstone. Your sobs break him more, taking pieces of his heart with every heart wrenching wail against his skin. But he takes it, knows you need this or you’ll go down a dark path. His need for vengeance and repayment quelled with the watery look of your eyes. Your watered pleas for him to stay when you feel his body tense against your own breaking his resolve as he whispers a soft “of course” against your hair. 

Imagine grieving with Jace. Your eldest boy looks so much like his brother it’s both a pain and a comfort all wrapped in one. Seeing him as he returned from Winterfell, your arms aching to wrap around him. And they do. You coo to him, running your fingers through his hair like you wished to do with Luke. He cried into your shoulder, broken cries of promised revenge echoing against your misery-stained skin. 

You didn’t cry then, letting your baby take off his misery and place it onto you. You had to be strong, uplift your family in the way only a mother could do. Your comforting hands brought the sweetest comfort with every touch, lulling Jace into a state that he could face his other mother. 

You let them cry together, bonding more in their shared grief. 

Imagine having to explain to your littlest ones that their big brother won’t be coming home. You were the only one who could sit down little Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya and try to explain the worst tragedy imaginable, a mothers worst nightmare come true. That they won’t see him for years and years, but that he’ll be there waiting for them. Comforting their saddened cries, and you felt like you were drowning in sorrow. 

Imagine comforting Rhaena as the news that her betrothed was murdered by their uncle reached the keep. Her cries hurt the worst, leaving scars that would never fade. She wasn’t yours either, but in a sense she was. You felt like Laena would have wanted you to be the one to have her daughter sob on, white locs caressed by your gentle fingers until she had cried herself to sleep.

Imagine flying with Rhaenys, the cannibal under you and the red queen to the side as you fly to the battle of rook’s nest. Your heart hammering as the sight of Vhagar reached you, only strengthening the hatred filling your heart. She was the same dragon that ended your little boy, that casted misery upon your family.

And maybe it was selfish that you had flown out without permission, that you might be the next casualty in this dance of dragons and death. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to die before you achieved your mission, you had to kill Aemond first. Even if the kinslayer took you with him.

And imagine the brief euphoria you feel, dragons crashing to the ground too fast to stop. You see the usurper jump from his golden dragon, as do you. Only you land on Vhagar, dagger in Aemond’s throat. You make sure he sees you, the second mother of the nephew he killed as the last of his life leaves his body. And as the dragons crashed to the ground, making you and the now dead prince Aemond meet the ground hard enough to crack ribs, dragons screeching filling your ears, you couldn't find an any more perfect revenge. 

[totaleclipse573]

AT LAST MY OCS

I'm just going to put these guys in one big post, with the basics of what I've redone for them so far. Things might change? But only really minor details if so. So if you're interested...here they are kjsdbfkjsd don't mind my novice ability to draw human(oid) characters

WARNING because this will get long

Full Name: Willow Sage

Species: Half human, half elven (?? the elven part of this universe may change to something else? Not sure yet, but I do want to keep it for reasons. So probably not lmao)

Age: 16

Traits: Anxious, loyal, determined, yet doubtful, holds a strong sense of justice, tends to try and hold in emotions

Likes: Collecting, pizza, rain, fantasy, hot chocolate 

Dislikes: The dark, needles, liars, hot weather, large crowds 

Powers: Psychokinesis (although unstable)

Fears: Total darkness, being unable to control her powers, needles

Other stuff:

Studied in a laboratory setting as a young child, though she can't really remember it anymore.

One product of a big experiment involving creating a perfect weapon, with multiple targets and powers studied. Willow was #7, and the first "successful" result, psychokinesis.

Once the original base of this group was found, Willow was able to be rescued, unfortunately as the only one before the opposing group was forced out.

One of the opposing group members, Daemon Sage, offered to be the caretaker for the rescued child. He would have to flee to the human realm, for safety reasons, and raise her.

Ended up back in the elven realm because APPARENTLY, she’s still alive. She can’t be alive. There can’t be evidence just running around, especially not in the human realm of all places. And they found out. (The story itself is still mostly a wip/rewrite from a loooong time ago, so things may change slightly)

Large crowds flare up anxiety

Medical stuff is the WORST. Willow isn’t really sure where that fear came from or why it stuck around, it just…creeps her out.

Willow “I don’t need sleep I need answers” Sage

Tends to put others ahead of herself, in just about every way possible. That gets dangerous later.

Not as long living as a full blooded elf would be, but does have a significantly extended lifespan, compared to a human

She/Her

Full Name: Alora Brookes

Species: Elven

Age: 17

Traits: Organized, worrisome, strong minded, deeply caring, yet tempermental, analytical, bookish

Likes: Reading, collecting, things going her way, the ocean, repetition 

Dislikes: Lightning, breaking the rules, recklessness, danger

Powers : Hydrokinesis

Fears: Lightning

Other stuff:

The only sane one here tbh

Born and raised in a place where pretty much everyone had some kind of power or ability relating to water

Because of that, Alora is very confident with her abilities, although still cautious about them when used. After all, she was taught by the best and most skilled! No room for failure

Bag holds first aid equipment, and bottles of water, as she gets easily dehydrated after intense power usage

100% has the largest book collection known to man

She/Her

Full Name: Charlie Wren

Species: Bird boy??

Age: 16

Traits : Optimistic, uplifting, impulsive, creative, somewhat naive, adventurous

Likes: Acrobatics, creatures, adventure, the sun, human items 

Dislikes: Spiders, responsibility, winter, being alone, deception 

Powers: None

Fears: Spiders

Other stuff:

Part of a species/clan born with bird-like features

Has always to explore and travel to all the other realms out there. Unfortunately he's got to do this while also experiencing The Horrors

Always tries to look for the bright side of things, even in dire situations

Keeps a pet "dog" around, named Sparks

Elliptical wings

He/Him

Full Name: Aiden Brinley

Species: Elven

Age: 15

Traits : Impulsive, unpredictable, sassy, free-spirited, somewhat reckless, resilient

Likes: Fire, hot weather, cats, hot chocolate, pancakes, stealing 

Dislikes: Water, cold weather, being told what to do, boredom 

Powers: Pyrokinesis

Fears: Water/the ocean

Other stuff:

Claims he ran away from home, and just likes setting things on fire for fun. He never really says much about who he is, where he's from, he prefers to "live in the moment!!"

He can't swim : (

For sure being looked for by people by this point but he enjoys a good chase!

Has a heart of gold he only lets show around ones he trusts

Hair can burst into flames when any kind of strong emotion is experienced

He/Him

Full Name: Griffin (13)

Species: Elven

Age: 15

Traits : Distrustful, reclusive, resourceful, extremely loyal (once trust is gained), persistent 

Likes : Being useful, rain/thunder storms, stars, repetition

Dislikes: Deception, loud noises, the dark, needles, unpredictably, AIDEN

Powers: Electrokinesis

Fears: Betraying Vulto/letting him down, total darkness, needles

Other stuff:

One product of a big experiment involving creating a perfect weapon, with multiple targets and powers studied, and later illegal technological enhancement. Griffin was #13, and the second successful result, electrokinesis. Though, he is considered the only truly successful experiment.

Sees the leader of this group, Vulto, as a father figure of sorts. It doesn't help, the act that's put up.

"Griffin" was a name he chose himself, being referred to as just "13" by everyone else he knew.

Weak mental barriers. Due to reasons.

When angered, Griffin can become extremely aggressive

He/Him

Full Name: Azalea Gaia

Species: Uhhh plant girl

Age: 15

Traits : Soft-spoken, gentle, caring, calm, fierce (when angered, a rare occurrence)

Likes : Gardening, crafting, quiet, creatures, drawing

Dislikes: Fire, seeing people cry, danger, heights, unpredictability

Powers : Botanokinesis, healing

Fears: Being unable to control her powers

Other stuff:

The goddess of this realm wanted a child to care for as her own, and so Azalea was created. Because of this she's considered a princess (kind of?)

Childhood best friends with Darius, until they were forced to part due to…kingdom disputes

Gardening is both a fun hobby, and a way to practice her abilities. She isn't all that good with them yet, but she's trying!! Pay no mind to the fact that this type of plant isn't supposed to exist its a. New species??

Anger = spiky plants

She/Her

Full Name: Prince Darius Yule Thornheart

Species: Elven

Age: 15

Traits : Cold towards complete strangers, but kind hearted and friendly once trust is gained, curious, handy

Likes : Snowflakes, inventing, routine, flowers, warm blankets

Dislikes: Being unable to help, loud noises, rough textures, tight spaces

Powers : Cryokinesis

Fears: Tight spaces 

Other stuff:

Prince of (insert kingdom name I still need to figure out) 

Childhood best friends with Azalea, until they were forced to part due to…kingdom disputes

Please for the love of god just call them Darius 😭

He CAN see through his glasses yes

Has a stutter

Likes inventing things but it isn't very "royal" of them and keeps getting discouraged. Eye roll.

He/They

Full Name: Aster

Species: ??? Alien

Age: Ageless (physically and mentally 17)

Traits : Curious, excitable, friendly, yet a little shy at times, caring

Likes : Earth, flowers, stars, photography, meeting new people, trying new things

Dislikes: Destruction, hot weather, loneliness, chaos, peanut butter sandwich

Powers : Can summon constellations and give them form

Fears: Eternal solitude 

Other stuff:

A curious little galaxy guardian born of…space stuff. Last of their kind, though

Took a liking to earth specifically and wanted to explore, so they came down. Now they don’t want to go back up…it’s far too lonely up there. But now, he has friends!! :D

Immortal :(

Doesn't have to eat but the first food they tried was a simple peanut butter sandwich. He uh. He is now questioning earth food tastes

CAMERAS ARE SO COOL

Gardens with Azalea

They/he

[bonaesperanza]

This may be a Bad Take but I think a lot less people would have issues with Padmé Amidala's RotS characterization if they realized that her role in that movie is largely symbolic and that Anakin's attitude towards her is meant to represent the inherent tension between liberty and security (which is clearly one of the main themes in a movie that has Anakin quote George W Bush as he falls to the Dark Side).

Padmé represents the best of democratic values: the capability to perceive everyone's inherent worth, the trust in state institutions, the morality, the benefits and drawbacks of resolving issues in a democratic manner and within the system (she often finds herself helpless in the face of corruption, for example). Padmé's ideals are the core of her character, to the point that she basically is her ideals. Basically, Padmé is to the Galactic Republic what Marianne is to the French Republic.

Now, you may have issues with a female character being used as a personification of a state or a political system, but not only is this a millennia-old narrative tradition, I also feel like you're probably barking up the wrong tree, because George Lucas LOVES using characters as symbols for abstract concepts: Luke as the Hero with a Thousand Faces, the Good vs. Bad Father dynamic with Obi-Wan and Vader, etc. This is completely on brand for the way George Lucas in particular constructs characters.

Even Padmé's most famous line, "So this is how Liberty dies," is indicative of this (and I love the concept of a former slave boy falling in love with Liberty herself).

Padmé dies because Liberty dies, not because she's a weak useless woman.

And Anakin's relationship to her potential death is very much... an indictment of reactionary politics and the War on Terror?

Anakin loves Padmé because she is fair-minded and understanding even when he doesn't deserve it, because she is tolerant, because she is kind, because she fights for justice, because she uplifts people. This is what he is in love with and what he is trying to preserve.

But in the face of nebulous threats, some real and some manufactured, he tries to save her by trampling all over what she stands for. And what she stands for is her. Therefore the very act of trying to save her is what ends up killing her, just like trying to keep your democracy safe by increasingly cruel and authoritarian measures inevitably kills it. Anakin claims that he loves her, that he's protecting her, but he is unwilling to listen to anything she has to say about it, just like plenty of people whose mouths are full of freedom but don't want to think about or apply the values that they are supposedly defending. What she believes no longer matters as long as she loves and comforts and uplifts him (and when she doesn't he goes into a rage).

Everything Padmé stands for, her very way of life and her very way of doing things, no longer exist at the end of RotS. She was becoming increasingly static and helpless during the movie because her way of doing things no longer works as the Republic becomes mired in cruelty and corruption, she cannot do anything but set foundations for an eventual rebellion and hope that a spark of hope survives. She can no longer survive in this new system, and it is in her nature to rather die than compromise herself in order to work within it. In a symbolic way, she quite literally cannot survive if she has to exist within it. She IS Liberty, and it would be a paradox if she survived. She dies and their children - another thing Anakin is fighting to protect, like many people who are "defending freedom" "for the children!!1!" - are made orphans, left to their own devices, forced to fight and rebuild things from scratch because she can no longer nurture them or protect them. This is a political metaphor y'all.

And in this reading, even Shmi's death ends up working better if you squint? Because even though Anakin's anger over her death stems from clear injustice and is fundamentally righteous, the fear and rage that this creates in him, and his inability to cope with it, is what directly causes him to both fear for Padmé's safety and to eventually smother her due to that fear. And to eventually become what he fears, killing Liberty, depriving himself of liberty in the process by becoming Sidious's blind slave, and literally destroying the future of an entire generation of (Jedi) children.

Now, I'm not saying that this makes a more psychological analysis of Padmé's character invalid or that this is the only role that she plays (for example, while Obi-Wan is the "good father figure" in ANH, he's clearly many different things across all the movies and clearly has an established characterization beyond that, and so does Padmé), but I think looking at it through this particular lens does make the choices made for her character less baffling and more indicative of the larger themes of the prequels.

[upontherisers]

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜ for Dora and Rosie . for legal reasons

a/n: this took so long babe my apologizes. cari write established relationship or draw 25 challenge. i'm drawing 25.

It’s hot in the sun, gloriously hot, the kind of hot that seeps right through her bones, the kind that makes her feel like she has dissolved and diffused into the air. The kind that sings her to sleep without any sound, that makes burning feel like a hug, the kind her mother would chase her out of on the grounds of too dark and wrinkles. Sorry, Mama. I’ve always loved the light. The kind of hot that needs no wind, no umbrella, no shade at all – just the clear sky overhead and the laughter of children splashing in the fire hydrant on the street below, shrieking and shouting and ignoring their parents as is their right on such a perfect day. 

The kind of hot that makes her sleepy without ever being tired first and she’s already napped today – Pastor had asked after her absence and Grammy, a quick thinker, had pardoned her granddaughter’s absence. A summer cold, you know how those get. And she has things to do – bring her laundry off the line after forgetting for two days and darn a stocking and do her readings for class tomorrow and review a radio contract offer for the picket – but it’s the kind of hot that absolves her of guilt and the day is about indulgences, isn’t it? She’s sunbathing on her roof, for Pete’s sake.

Besides, Robert’ll wake her up before it gets too late.

She cracks an eye open to look at him seated on the blanket beside her, engrossed in a newspaper. It’s tough to make out the date on the front page as it bends into shadow, but the breeze does her a favor. July 7th, 1943. It’s two weeks old but he’s reading like it’s December 8th, 1941, like he’s going to do something about what he’s seeing. You’re in it now, aren’t you?

“They don’t give you newspapers in Texas?”

His eyes, brilliant blue, as blue as the sky above, meet hers over the headline – 6 JAPANESE WARSHIPS BELIEVED SUNK IN FIGHT, and those crinkles in the corners remind her of the day they met, her confusion over Mildred’s forlorn pining when she learned where Dora had been assigned. Oh, I wanted that desk. And then he walked in and offered a hand and smiled and if she were a different woman – ambitious, romantic, concerned with station, she would’ve gloated. But Dora was new and Robert had only just started and they both needed to see who they’d turn out to be, legal secretary and lawyer.

“They give us Texas papers in Texas.”

“And they don’t have the news?”

He blinks and sets that pesky left brow. “Not the backpages stuff. Nothing about New York.”

“I can send them to you,” she says, “if you want to keep up. They’ll be a week behind but—”

“Do you read ‘em?”

“Yes,” she does, and her panic about welcoming him back into the apartment by daylight is that he’d be able to see the pile stacked on top of the piano, in reach when she’s tucked into the nook of the front window. The ones she managed to fish out of the bottom and shove into the broom closet before he finished giving himself the tour were from March and she doesn’t know when that started, but it surely wasn’t good. Just another thing to add to the list of things he made her look twice at – shoes, streetlights, and newspapers. She could at least get the Great Paper Purge done today. 

The corner of his mouth lifts, the one Mildred swoons over, he snaps the pages upright again. “I’d rather have your summaries. They’re a little more uplifting.”

She’d fret over yet another assignment getting put down in writing if it weren’t for the sun, for the warm stone under the blanket as she rolls onto her stomach, if it weren’t for the reminder that she’s as alive as anything, and she really needed this, didn’t she? She doesn’t know how he knew, but the sun tells her not to get herself into a tizzy over that either, and she slumps into the pillow beneath her chin, checking her watch – 1 o’clock. An hour won’t hurt. She’d pop up at two, take her laundry down, fix her stocking, then bring her books to the roof. Dinner will have to be sorted eventually, but her eyelids are so very heavy and as Robert hums along to Mr. Delaney cranking his car radio all the way up at the end of the block, she feels like she’s floating in water, indistinguishable from the air around her. 

Hell, they can walk to Dean St. and Robert can pay for dinner at Cal’s with his big fancy Air Force salary. She sleeps.

Dora doesn’t snore so much as huff, little bursts of air puffing through her lips with every exhale. It’s sweet, leisurely, and relieving that she doesn’t have to sleep like she’s desperate for it. Shades of the bone-tired woman he had coffee with a week ago still remain – her bleary, addled amazement as her younger sister gleefully announced his arrival at their grandparents’ brownstone, her gentle slump in his passenger’s seat as she quietly watched the city pass by – but she has her light back, the glow that pushes from her as she finds him a file, chats with Mildred and Bob over lunch, sheepishly hops up on stage to play with the Putman house band, and rests here on her building’s roof. 

He abandons his article about illness threats to women factory workers – interesting how the men on the line next to them don’t face the same risk – to watch her for a while. It’s strange that she’s here now, in front of him, after so many months of wanting to see her, of writing down stories that would be easier to tell in person, of picking white and yellow wildflowers on the side of the runway in Tennessee and wishing he could tuck them behind her ear and watch her smile, bright, blinding. He thinks of her more than he knows what to do with. 

Her face is turned toward him, brushed gold by the sun beating down over her round cheek and slight chin, the oval of her pink mouth, the heart of her Cupid’s bow. He’d kissed that beautiful, wide, flat nose, and brushed his thumb indulgently over her soft skin under the cover of night, but the light reveals the best of her. The small of her back, a heart-freckle on her shoulder, the curve of her spine – he wants to touch.

Hesitantly, he traces a knuckle over her shoulder blade and she stirs, but doesn’t wake. One finger, then another, then the rest, then his palm and he listens to her breathing as he rubs her back. It manages to be musical, like everything about her, as it matches the pace of the horns popping in and out of the Crosby tune floating up from the street. With our full crew aboard and our trust in the Lord, comin’ in on a wing and a prayer. He’s never been a fan of Crosby – crooners are killing the art of big band – but he doesn’t sound half bad when Robert can watch Dora’s lashes flutter as she stretches out on the plush, striped wool under them.

What’re you gonna do about that girl, his mother had asked him as he left this morning. 

Jeannie laughed from their dining table. Something stupid.

Something helpful, he insisted. 

Something helpful.

He stops rubbing her back before he really does something stupid – brush away the hair falling into her eyes, feel the freckle on her shoulder with his teeth – and pulls out the note he’d written as she was making them lemonade. Be right back. Standing, he discards his unbuttoned shirt, leaves the note on top, and grabs his edition of the Times before descending the fire escape ladder at the back of the building and slipping into Dora’s apartment. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, but as soon as he regains his bearings, he gets to work.

Kitchen first. There’s not much to do; he sweeps, collects the sugar that had spilled on the counter, discards the empty lemon rinds, and washes the dishes in the sink. He picks up around the living room, scooping fallen petals from the purple flowers in her windowsill, placing stray records back in their sleeves – not without putting Benny Goodman on first, and he’s in the middle of organizing the newspapers on top of the piano when he flips through a May edition on a whim and his eyes catch black ink in the margins, two words hastily scrawled next to a small article. For Robert. The headline circled, $3,629,000 FOR REFUGEES; Jewish Relief Unit Appropriates Funds. 

He remembers this. She’d written him about it along with assurances that the new Jewish families in the neighborhood were adjusting well. Her Yiddish is rudimentary, her German sparse, and her Polish non-existent, but she made sure to greet them all with a smile when passing by on the street or the bus, and she’d joined an antifascist coalition with her grandparents that had seen her speak in front of jeering crowds at borough council meetings and counter protesters at aid rallies. But they don’t bother me, she wrote.

That’s Dora, kind and fierce. She’s going to make a damn fine lawyer. 

There are a few more of her notes as he skims through the papers and leaves them on top of the piano. He tidies the worn cushions in her window sill and it brings him no small amount of peace to picture her reading there with her legs curled under her, basking in the sun during the day and aglow with warm lamplight at night. 

He goes to look for a duster for the piano and gets lost reshuffling her broom closet for half an hour.

This wasn’t the plan. The plan was to pick her up in Harlem, change into their bathing suits here, and spend the afternoon on Coney Island before coming back to Brooklyn and getting ready for an early dinner at Rosetti’s followed by a show on Broadway. The tickets, nervously purchased over the phone yesterday evening while Jeannie cried with silent laughter and picked up as he drove through Manhattan this morning, sit above him next to Dora in the front pocket of his shirt. They can wait there until Germany surrenders for all he cares, as long as she sleeps in peace. There’s no use in running around the city if she can’t wake up with a lighter heart tomorrow. 

He’s not blaming anyone – there’s a war on – but he likes to think that if he were home, he wouldn’t have let her work herself into the ground. Surely someone had noticed the shadows growing under her eyes, her smile fading as the days went. How could they live without it?

And selfishly, he wanted one last look. Dora had circled the numbers in the papers; twelve bombers lost, fifteen, seventeen, twenty. Whatever that meant for him, a homecoming or a gold star in his mother’s window, he wants to remember what he’s fighting for. His older sister’s incessant teasing; the joy in Mrs. Schuman’s voice when he enters her bagel shop – her son Robert, also a lieutenant, didn’t make it off Guadalcanal; and the way Dora’s little brother protests that he doesn’t need her to adjust his hair and his tie before he goes to lunch at his sweetheart’s place but still lets her kiss his cheek on her way out the door. He’s fighting so that Darren doesn’t have to, so that Jews and Poles and the French get to kiss their little brothers’ cheeks, too, out from under the boot of authoritarianism.

A pair of gloves fall from a high shelf and hit him in the forehead. The Benny Goodman record has ended, and he places the gloves in a box marked WINTER before heading back out into the apartment. One of Dora’s shirts snaps in the breeze through the kitchen window. Laundry, right.

Dora rouses gradually, laying with her eyes closed for a few moments before she notices the quiet, no more children laughing or the radio playing. Rolling over, she opens her eyes. The sun is further across the sky than she’d thought it’d be, and she sits up with a start as she checks her watch – 4:30. Shit, shit, shit. She hops to her feet and sees that Robert isn’t beside her, a note left atop his shirt in his neat, even hand. Be right back. She’ll meet him downstairs; she needs to get out of the heat and get to work.

A cool wind blows, making her shiver and she throws Robert’s shirt on, which matches the light blue of her bathing suit, and her stomach does a funny wiggle. They used to show up to the office in the same colors weekly – it’s nice to know that some things don’t change.

The fabric is soft, well-loved, and as she runs her hands down it, her fingers catch on something in the breast pocket. Looking down, she sees two thin strips tucked in the fabric, and fishing them out, she rubs the sleep out of her eyes to read the print.

Broadhurst Theatre. 44th St. Evening - Sunday. E 19.

Robert Rosenthal, you didn’t.

She yanks the blanket from the ground, grabs the lemonade pitcher, and throws on her shoes – interior soles burning after hours baking in the heat – before leaping down the ladder and taking the stairs two at a time. He’s wide-eyed at her sudden entrance, holding one of her work blouses as she pushes through the window, slightly woozy at the green tinge everything takes coming out of the sun. They’re both frozen for a moment.

“Did you buy these?”

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“I asked first,” she says, holding out the tickets.

There goes that damn dimple as he smiles softly, not helping slow her heart hammering in her chest. “I, uh, I got us a dinner reservation at Rosetti’s, too.” He folds her blouse over a bare forearm and she’s hit with so many thoughts at once – she doesn’t have anything to wear to the theater; he’s not wearing a shirt and she can see the firm muscle of his stomach and the arch of his hip bones; he’s doing her laundry, brassieres included; she still has to do her readings; he’s not wearing a shirt – that she starts to laugh, heaving, side-splitting guffaws. Of course he did.

This is what he does – waltzes into her life, shows her just how good it can be, just how kind the world can get, then leaves and she’s a better, lonelier person for it. Here he is, in her dead parents’ home, doing her laundry because she couldn’t manage, telling her he planned a night for them, that he chose her over a Yankees’ game or a show at Minton’s or simply an evening in with his darling mother, and he’ll be gone in three days, off to be a shield against evil, off to save the world after watching her nearly fall asleep on her feet in a dirty kitchen and still deciding to come back for her.

She laughs until she wheezes, until she’s folded over and her abdomen cramps, until there are tears in her eyes and she doesn’t know if she’s happy or heartbroken. 

“Dora.” He’s in front of her now, smelling of heat and leather and chlorine like he got the Bab-O out from under her sink.

“What have you done?” she asks as she stands and wipes her eyes. And here she was thinking they might get dinner at Cal’s.

His face falls, eyes turning big and sad like a kicked puppy, his dark brows furrow, and it nearly sends her into another fit but she manages to stay upright. “We don’t have to go if—I thought that—”

She shakes her head vigorously and reaches up to hold his cheeks, his stupid, perfect cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

His smile is so bright that it beats the sun outside and she gets lucky with where her fingertips have landed because those glorious laugh lines find themselves where she can touch them. He turns his head just so and squints as if he’s listening to a good song and steps into her, setting his hands on her hips. 

This is where they kiss in the pictures, and the thought is so laughable that she chuckles aloud before throwing her arms around his shoulders as his slip around her waist. It’s warm, not sunbathing warm, but good all the same.

“Thank you,” she murmurs in his ear. Tears bite at her eyes.

“You deserve it,” he says.

They stay in an embrace until she realizes that she still doesn’t have anything to wear and they have to get all the way to Midtown in traffic. She stands back with a sniff. “I need to borrow a dress from Jeannie.”

[manic-sapphic]

ok haha ~ i just need to take a moment to share some true appreciation for the evolution of the bfs and their dynamic between one another. like even tho it takes catra years to admit that the understanding & acceptance of friendship & love are literally all she's ever wanted (but has been scared to let herself feel for some time for fear of losing it again honestly), i don't think it takes her very long to enjoy having it. even if it consists of bow teasing her all throughout "shot in the dark" or glimmer smackin her with a big ol' cheek smooch out of thanks. (side note: love that glimmer says "catra saved the day!" right before she does it cause after 4 seasons of tryna be the villain, catra even saves the day at the end too)

even perfuma sees catra actually isn't a bad person, and that's after initially resisting accepting her cause of knowing how she treated scorpia. but all it takes is catra's feeble attempt at sorta kinda tryna bond w her, simply by offering a hopeful/positive remark about chipped scorpia and perfuma's friendship w her that i doubt she ever woulda expected to come out of catra's mouth tbh. so then yeah, she says to catra in s5e10: "it's hard keeping your heart open, it makes you vulnerable.. but it doesn't make you weak" like tbh tho why couldn't someone have said this to catra in s1 lol the gurl's needed to understand that for so long and guess why she never could before oh wait, it's cause of things sw said to her and how she treated her since childhood haaa but i'll digress on that..

cause this is meant to be an uplifting share lol. cause yeah, tbh i think in the season 2 episode "the ties that bind" the dynamic between catra, glimmer, and bow is already absolute fucking gold dude lol like bow and glimmer tryna find entrapta and ending up taking catra hostage instead? and how she just uses it as an opportunity to mess w them till she gets bored and signals scorpia w her force captain badge? i mean, when you realize that's all catra had to do to get found the whole time... hahah c'mon dude. these three were destined to bug tf out of each other for life but in the best possible way lol~

and i love it. esp the fact that in that last still w glimmer hugging catra, catra actually - while initially taken aback as she always is w physical contact - only takes a couple seconds this time to relax into it. allows herself to be embraced w love and appreciation and then even returns it. like tf lol it's so sweet. i think it's the only other person aside from adora we see her manage to be comfortable enough w to do that during the course of the show (bow joins in on the hug after a few secs too and catra's still smiling softly, like too cute tho tf) and it's just amazing. the development, the evolution, the progress, the change - things that, unfortunately, aren't really being celebrated as much these days as i'd love to see. but ik there are so many ppl out there like me too, who just knowing those kinda things are possible means so much to. and ur my kinda people <3

~ps i honestly never intended to make the caption for this cute lil collage so long but if you're familiar w me and my spop rants at all by now, i bet ur not surprised that i did lmao oh and gold stars to everyone who actually read to the end here omg why can't i stop, and why haven't u?? lol

[what-if-queen-camilla]

Chapter 43

Late November 1997

Thea's heartwarming gesture towards her brothers had made it on almost every newspaper front page the next day and, though the whole country was still mourning immensely, there was something ominously uplifting and comforting about it. Camilla was of course incredibly relieved that everything had gone well and she was glad that most of the public didn’t seem to have an issue with Thea’s attendance of the funeral - especially not after her close bond with the Princes had become so visible, but somehow the sudden new attention scared and worried her. She had not expected there to grow so much interest in her daughter, especially as the occasion had been such a serious and saddening one but people seem to be obsessed with her little sweetheart, and much to her regret, there had been some journalists sneaking around the house and even Thea's school again but nothing serious had happened yet, thank goodness. She had told Charles and he'd been furious, determined to issue a public statement immediately, urging people and especially journalists to leave their daughter alone but Camilla had insisted that it might not be a good time for that, so shortly after Diana's funeral and with the whole country still in mourning. The boys were being so brave, they had returned to their respective boarding schools the week after and though Charles was hoping for them all to find some kind of normality again soon, Camilla doubted that anything was going to be normal again in the foreseeable future. 

And so a few weeks passed, the days got shorter and darker and everything inside of them as well. Thea wrote heartfelt letters to her brothers every week, but didn't receive a reply, Charles gave a few phone calls but always seemed short-handed and even his birthday passed without an opportunity for a meet-up. Camilla tried to keep herself busy reading books and painting, while she, amid that horrible new wave of public hatred she was facing, couldn't really go anywhere. Thank God, she had friends who did the shopping at Sainsbury for her and the children came and left as usual. She was incredibly worried about her little sweetheart Thea, though, as she was obviously missing her father and brothers immensely. Neither of them had an explanation of why William and Harry didn't write to her and Camilla hadn't dared ask Charles, who was totally overburdened with the sad situation as it was anyway. He'd taken Harry to Africa for a couple of days at the end of October, beginning of November, and, of course given the special connection Diana had had to the continent, the trip had been highly emotional and, as Camilla hoped, a bit healing for the young Prince. So it quite took her by surprise when, on a random Saturday afternoon in late November, the phone rang and none other than her beloved Prince was on the line, huskily asking: “Can you two come over to Highgrove tonight?” Camilla didn’t even think about it any further, but immediately said: “Of course, darling. We’ll be there!” She called for Thea who's whole face lit up at the prospect of seeing daddy tonight and, of course, she asked whether Will and Harry were there as well and Camilla gulped. “I, um, didn't even had the chance to ask.”, she explained. “It went so quickly… he was so short-handed again… I'm sorry, darling. But I'm sure we'll find out soon, so let's get ourselves ready and depart as soon as possible!” It was strange, probably ridiculous, but somehow, after all these weeks, Camilla felt really excited to see her Prince again tonight and wanted to look especially beautiful for him, so she put her hair in rollers and some makeup on her face, eyeliner and mascara and a bit of lip gloss, only a modest shade of pink, not too intrusive of course, but elegant and classy. She also dressed herself in a cute little, dark green velvet dress and something special underneath though she wasn’t sure whether it might actually go into action, however, she thought, just in case…

They arrived at Highgrove at around 6pm and were received by an equerry who escorted them inside, where all three, Charles, William and Harry were already waiting impatiently. “My little sunshine!”, Charles exclaimed and enthusiastically opened his arms for Thea, who threw herself onto him affectionately, before rushing over to her brothers and falling into their arms as well. It was a very touching scene to witness and Camilla shed a tear watching the three siblings reunited. “Darling.”, Charles whispered softly in her ear as he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Of course, they didn’t want to be too wild in front of the children, but it had been a long time and it hadn’t taken much for her to forget herself. He smelled so good, and, oh, the way he looked at her… She took both his hands in hers and locked his eyes, his beautiful and soft, grey-blue eyes which looked so unhappy and sorrowful that it almost made her cry. She couldn’t wait to properly hug him later, when they’d be alone, to hold him and to kiss all of the pain aways that had undoubtedly tortured him over the last couple of weeks. “Why didn’t you write to us?”, Harry asked Thea and sounded equally reproachful and disappointed. “I did write to you!”, Thea defended herself, adding: “Every week! But none of you ever  replied to me!” Charles and Camilla got apart and slowly went over to the children. “I haven’t got a single letter from you!”, Harry reported and William confirmed, less reproachful but more sad: “Neither have I…” “But…”, Thea stuttered with tears in her eyes, desperately looking over to her mum for help. Camilla rushed over and bend down to her, pressing her against herself, while calmly explaining to William and Harry, that they had, indeed, sent out letters to both of them every week ever since their mother’s funeral. “And you really haven’t got one of ours either?”, William asked and Camilla shook her head. “No, none.” Charles had meanwhile joined the party and knelt down on the floor between his sons, opposite to Camilla and Thea, who were now looking at him in complete confusion and Camilla noticed worryingly that he was about to throw a tantrum - it was obvious that somebody had to deliberately have stopped the letters in order to prevent any correspondence between the Princes and their sister, and Camilla was just as shocked and angry as Charles - but they had to try and keep calm, at least in front of the children, she thought, so she cleared her throat and quickly took the floor: “Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to solve the mystery and find all of the missing letters.”, she said, trying to sound as calm and optimistic as possible.

Unintentionally, her glance met William’s, who seemed to understand immediately. “Hey Harry, let’s go and show Thea the new bunnies in the stables! They’re only just a few weeks old, very sweet.”, he suggested and Harry looked at him in complete confusion. “Why this now?”, he asked, but Thea was so excited about the prospect of seeing baby rabbits, that any resistance was futile in this case. As soon as the children had left the room, Charles couldn’t hold it back any longer and did, indeed, throw a tantrum. He almost screamed down the house in anger, disappointment and pain; not only about this unfortunate situation regarding the missing, or rather stolen, letters, but probably because of everything that had happened since that one, fateful last day of August… He had become a single father overnight, he had to cope with two mourning, half-orphaned teenage boys, he had been trying to stay strong for them, to look after them… but who had been looking after him? It almost broke her to see him in that state of mind and she wished she could just kiss it all away, she knew she couldn’t but at least she wanted to try, so she just sat down next to him, wrapped her arms around him and let him cry, tenderly stroking his hair and whispering sweet promises. “Regarding the letters, darling.”, she started after a couple of minutes. “I think we’d better ask Mark to try and find out what happened and… who might be behind it.”, she suggested and he nodded in agreement. “Yes, yes, darling. Let’s talk to him tomorrow…”

So, what do you think? Who might be behind this mean cabal and why?

[aztr0punk]

hehe i wrote some headcanon stuff i had in mind about the High Stakes Club, mainly Helsie. its under the cut, freshly copy & pasted from my notes app :)

its somewhat angsty i suppose

⧫♢ ◎ ♢⧫

i feel like a shared theme among the high stakes club members and their internal problems is struggle with self worth/self esteem. Joni is probably the least insecure about it and hence why she's a bit more of the natural leader of the group; she is working through her own problems but knows enough to help Lucien and Helsie through theirs and uplift them. make them feel worthy

Helsie is a kinda eccentric individual. sort of bubbly but can have a mean streak. fun gal. good social skills, as she works at a job that requires and improves them anyway. shes more energetic and extroverted than the rest of the group for sure. probably hums and makes little noises to accentuate her speech/tone of voice. she tries to maintain a positive attitude but her lack of self esteem causes her to doubt her own abilities in GENERAL.

if one says "how do you live with yourself" to her she'll overthink it and turn it into something that haunts her and brings her down more and more. and why? it was just a dumb comment, not even a full sentence, yet just a word like that can really send her spiraling. doubting herself. wanting, NEEDING, to change herself but its just who she is. she cannot change her fundamental self; its enough she hardly knows herself beyond a persona she tries to keep up

"your friends seem ready to face the darkness, but are you?" - Countess Daraku, to Helsie

Helsie cannot face her own darkness, and if she does its rough. its one of those distressing things to her where she'll get this intense wave of emotion and just break down, like, "i cant, i cant, i cant" curling into a ball and just crying. Or she goes and chops some heads off monsters solo. either of the two

she ignores the darkness that grows more each day in her until its looming, singeing her very ability to be happy at all. she puts on a smile but inside she wants to rip and tear and maim and bite- but Has to maintain that happy face. she doesn't want to put her issues on others, even the HSC.

she isnt good at dealing with negative emotions besides maybe some anger, sadness too. oh, and stress during hunts. she's good with that, kinda

in a sense Helsie's style reflects this too. she looks sweet, a little mean(its the goth thing) theres an underlying bite (heh) to her style. you look at her and go "whoa she looks like she wants to rip something to shreds but she also looks so so fun"

a lot of her pent up emotions are only really let out during vampire hunts. she cant face her darkness so she'll be the darkness, fuck it. Joni and Lucien do help her through her personal problems, and it really helps having people who understand, who have been there before and are still there to some degree

with all that said. Helsie would much prefer trying to stay positive/maintain a badass sorta attitude, so she does activities and goes about her day in ways that make this happen.

this includes hanging with her found family, Joni and Lucien. her job as a barista helps, she always likes seeing customers happy to get their little boba drinks and treats and whatnot. she feels more worthy herself helping others out and making them happy. ah and of course, her side gig as a vampire hunter helps with the whole "badass" attitude boost. as much as it can contribute to her self doubt, having people by her side to boost her confidence and Also be badass with her is all she needs.

IF YOU READ ALL THIS. can we watch the sunset together?

i love these goobers and genuinely i want helsie to be ok. she is trying her BEST.

[briansastro10]

Day 4: Nightmare 9 Days of Lancaster

Ruby finds herself in a haunting, twisted forest, her surroundings filled with an eerie silence. Shadows dance ominously, and the air is thick with a sense of dread. She hears whispers, voices echoing through the darkness.

Pyrrha: Ruby, you failed us. We trusted you, and you let us die!

The voice of Pyrrha pierces through the stillness, carrying the weight of accusation and sorrow. Gradually, the figures of Ironwood, Ozpin, Torchwick, Penny, and others who have met tragic ends materialize, their faces distorted by anger and blame.

Ruby: *teary-eyed*

No... I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried my best, I swear!

Ironwood: *bitterly* Your best wasn't good enough, Ruby. Look at the chaos you've brought upon us all.

Ozpin:*disappointed* You were meant to be the savior, Ruby. But all you've done is leave destruction in your wake.

Torchwick: *sneering* You thought you could change the world, but all you've done is cause pain and suffering.

Each voice intertwines, creating a cacophony of accusations that threatens to engulf Ruby. She tries to defend herself, but her words are lost in the sea of condemning voices.

Ruby: *desperate* Please, I never wanted any of this. I didn't mean for any of you to get hurt. I'm so sorry!

Penny: *solemnly* Sorry doesn't bring us back, Ruby. Sorry doesn't do anything at all!

Ruby's heart shatters as the weight of guilt and responsibility bears down upon her. The nightmare has become a cruel testament to her regrets and self-blame.

The nightmare has taken hold and soon Ruby woke up cold sweat all over her body. Her failures and guilt haunts her in her sleep. Feeling undeserving

Ruby steps outside, her mind still reeling from the nightmare she had just experienced. She finds Jaune sitting on the porch, his gaze lost in the darkness of the night sky. There's a sense of restlessness and exhaustion in his eyes.

Ruby:*softly* Jaune, are you okay?

Jaune looks up, surprised to see Ruby. He forces a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Jaune: *sighing* Hey, Ruby. Yeah, just having a bit of trouble sleeping, you know?

Ruby takes a seat next to him, concern etched on her face.

Ruby: I had a nightmare too, Jaune. It was terrifying.

Jaune: Give it some time, You'll be fine.

Jaune stood up about to go back to bed

Jaune: Well I'm going back, try not to stay up late.

Ruby: Wait Jaune... How do you handle The nightmares?

Jaune: You cant. The nightmare will always be there. Nightmares have been haunting me ever since I arrived in Ever After.

Ruby listens intently, her eyes reflecting both empathy and curiosity.

Ruby: I'm sorry that you had to go through that.

Jaune: *Smiled softly* But it's thanks to finding Crescent Rose, your weapon, that I've found a way to keep them at bay.

Ruby's eyes widen, realization dawning upon her.

Ruby: *sincerely* Crescent Rose... it gives you comfort, doesn't it?

Jaune: *nodding* Exactly. Holding your weapon, knowing that one day I'll be returning it to you, it gives me hope. It calms the storm within me, reminding me that we have the strength to face anything and that you'll be there with me.

Ruby let out a gentle smile, their spirits uplifted from Jaune's words.

Jaune: Well like I said, dont stay up late, young woman. You need your beauty sleep.

Ruby: *Giggled* getting cranky, I guess the old man is tired after all

Jaune: *Laughed abit* I swear to you, I've gained my youth but I still can feel my back aching like an old man.

They shared a good laugh and peaceful thought. They went back to their own respective room, drifting off the thought of each other

[elm-writes-stories]

Cuphead: Isle of Memories (Rewrite)

*Hey! I'm back with another episode! I'm so sorry that it took so long to get out. I've been busy with life and such. Anyway, this is published on September 10, 2023. If you guys like the episode, please don't forget to vote and comment! Warning: Blood, guts, and body disfiguration. Thank you and have a blessed day! Enjoy!*

Episode Five: A Cat's Hell

Cassidy was sitting alone on the couch in a dark living room. Her eyes bloodshot and her body trembling. She was hugging her knees, her tail wrapped around her leg.

“Burden! Burden!”

“She looks like a wet mop.”

“Ew, she looks gross.”

“LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME YOU STUPID CAT! YOU SCRATCHED ME!”

“You deserved to be drowned.”

Cassidy started to sob, her ears pinned back. She could see the words etched all around the walls keeping her trapped and confined.

Burden.

Wet Mop.

Stupid cat.

Freak.

Ugly.

Annoying.

Disgusting.

Destructive.

Evil.

Belong to the Devil.

You don’t matter.

Those words were written over each other and all around the walls while the voices had gotten louder and louder until—

“What’s wrong?”

Cassidy felt a warm light on her back and turned to see Porkrind standing there with a soft gaze. She looked ahead to see the words etched over and over. “Can’t believe I lived through fifteen years…I mean, who would’ve thought?”

She watched her father sitting next to her, lighting up the dark living room only a little bit.

“There’s still life ahead,” Porkrind stated softly while looking at the etched words in front of him. “You believe all of those words?”

“Every single one of them,” Cassidy responded sadly.

Porkrind frowned. As they were staring at the destructive words in front of them, the uplifting words started to appear behind them.

Precious.

Beautiful.

Smart.

Compassionate.

Cute.

Amazing fighter.

Cutest Purrs.

Miracle Baby.

Kind.

Caring.

Angel.

Not a burden.

Sister.

Best Friend.

Sweetheart.

Lover.

Soft.

Belong in the light.

You matter.

The words were all neat and concise, making it perfect to read. However, Cassidy didn’t see the kind words behind her.

“What’s on your mind?” Porkrind asked.

Cassidy bit her bottom lip. “Well, so many things. First, the Night Stalkers situation and waiting for a moment where they find us and kill us. Then there’s Mugman with Tremaine inside of him and who knows when the potion will wear off. And then…there’s me…just existing. Do you think my parents love me?”

Porkrind placed a hand on the red feline’s shoulder, already providing warmth and comfort that eased her emotions. “With all of their hearts.”

She frowned and looked at the words in front of her. “I wish they tell me that right here.”

“They do. They do.”

“How do you know? Have you met them?” Cassidy asked while looking up to find that she could no longer see Porkrind. It was a figure in a white cloak, his hand still on her shoulder with a bright light covering his face. She had to look away since it was getting  bright.

“Yes, I have,” Porkrind’s voice faded, the voice becoming more soft-spoken and gentle. “And they told me that they love you everyday. They wished to be here to tell you that themselves and show you all of their love. They want me to tell you that they have love you ever since you are born, even while you were in your mother’s womb. They want me to tell you ”

“How do I know what I’m hearing is real?”

“Look behind you.”

Cassidy slowly turned around, facing the bright light. She could see the words…but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She squinted before—

She blinked her eyes open to find herself strapped onto the metal table. She looked around to find anyone nearby. The comforting warmth had vanished once she woke up. Now it was too hot in here. The sweat dripped around her red fur while she struggled in her restraints.

“LET ME GO!!” Cassidy cried, her head twitching and her veins glowing orange.

She resisted once Mugman entered her memory. His warm goofy smile and his unconditional hugs filled her head, which was contradicting the memories she remembered before shaking hands with the Devil. Wasn’t he ignoring her? No, he wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He really wanted to be with her. She remembered his sheepish grin when he confessed his love to her. Yes! He was the first to confess his feelings to her, not the other way around. And it wasn’t even out of pity as the Devil said before. Right? Was she going crazy? She might be.

Her veins glowed brighter orange, filling her head with a lie that Mugman outright said he hated her, but she knew it wasn’t true. Of course, it wasn’t. That wasn’t the Mugman she knew.

While she was resisting the lies and manipulation from Tremaine, Devil, Henchman, and Stickler were standing outside with Devil using his fingers to try to manipulate her to control the Tremaine in her veins.

“Dang it, I knew I shouldn’t have revealed her too soon to that blue-nosed buffoon,” Devil growled.

“D’uh, boss, maybe you should, I don’t know, put her back to the mortal world,” Henchman suggested.

“No, she’s a valuable asset. It’s just…now she’s refusing to believe in the memories I gave her,” Devil groaned.

“Erm, Henchman is right. The Most High might not be pleased with what you are doing and you have to put her back. The Most High has a way of using people to interfere with your plans,” Stickler reminded Devil.

Devil growled. “You know what, Stickler, I’m sick and tired of you and your existence. I need something more…extreme…something to get her back to me.” He thought for a moment and smirked evilly. “Oh, I think I got a better idea.”

He clenched his fist, watching Cassidy’s veins glowed brighter orange. She screamed in agony when she saw her biological parents getting tired of taking care of her. They would yell words at her that were hurtful.

“Piece of burden!”

“Will you stop being a burden for two seconds?!”

Cassidy cried in pain while tears were streaming down her face. Her mind spiraled back into the darkness, now with a faint voice calling out.

“Don’t believe in the lies! Don’t believe in the lies!”

Cassidy sobbed some more, buying into the lie once again. Her biological parents never loved her. Even if Porkrind had or hadn’t shown love as her father, her real parents never loved her. How would her father know? Mugman wouldn’t know either. No one would know except for the mysterious figure in her dream. Tremaine soon took over her whole body, pushing her back into a deep dark sleep and awakening a demon in her with red eyes and white slit pupils. 

~.~

Mugman snapped his eyes with a horrified gasp.

What just happened…? Did he just witness Cassidy suffering under Tremaine? He shook his head while he faced the darkness.

“What’s the matter, little one?” A voice asked gently behind him.

Mugman knew it was only Angel checking in on him. He was about to turn around, but he remembered to not to.

“Cassi…I need to find Cassi! You said that there’s a portal to the waking world, right?!” Mugman questioned, looking around the darkness.

“Yes, but I’m afraid that it’s not here yet.”

“How long till it appears?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you know anything—?!” Mugman swiftly turned around to face Angel angrily. Angel had blue fur and angelic wings and halo with little horns. But those looks faded away quick when he was transformed into a red fiery demon with horns shaped like rams and bat-like wings.

Mugman screamed and turned back around, running from Angel.

“Wait, don’t run, little one! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

Mugman ran as fast he could through the darkness, hoping to find the waking portal. However, he noticed a fireball ahead of him. He whirled around and found that something went through his body. He looked to realize that it was only blue ball that didn’t hit him like a fireball would.

“Are you okay? Did I scare you?” Angel’s voice echoed in the darkness.

Mugman breathed heavily and realized that he was on the plane…and Angel wasn’t the only resident there. There was another figure, a monstrous demon he was facing glaring into his soul.

“T-There’s two of you,” Mugman uttered in realization. “Where am I—?” He turned around to find a skeleton of the familiar horned Devil staring down at him with hollow eyes. “What is this place?!”

“A place where you die!” Demon barked and threw a fireball at Mugman.

Mugman yelped and turned around, facing Demon in front of him.

“Little one, don’t fret—”

“Let him! He’s delicious when he’s afraid!” Demon interrupted Angel, throwing another fireball. Mugman dodged out of the way with heavy breaths. He noticed his hands glowing blue with sparks. He shot the sparks at Demon, who took the hit with a snarl in pain. Mugman’s wings spread and he flew up to meet Demon’s eyes. His eyes and his veins glowed blue, shooting sparks at Demon. Demon took the impacts of the sparks, electrocuting him. Demon growled and summoned the beamed of fire by the palm of his hands. He threw it Mugman. Mugman gasped and whirled around, feeling water instead of burns on his back.

The young mug teen smiled brightly and faced Demon with a determined glare. He summoned water and electricity, shooting them at the red-furred demon in front of his face.

“Wait, little one—!” Angel’s voice tried to warn him.

Demon shot more fireballs out of frustration. Mugman dodged them swiftly and flew towards the red demon, splashing water from his palms with sparks within. Demon was hit by the water and electricity, struggling against his chains.

“Why you little—!” Demon’s words were interrupted by another hit from the sparks.

The last spark was the one that electrocuted Demon more than any other sparks Mugman threw at him. Demon was electrocuted with a scream and the chains pulled him back into one of the Devil’s hollow eyes. Mugman arched a brow in confusion and glanced to see Angel, without turning into Demon, being dragged along with Demon into the skull.

Mugman landed on the ground and watched them trapped in the skull belonging to the Devil. “What did I just do?”

“How did you do that?”

Mugman gasped and whirled around to face Gabriel, standing over him with shock in his eyes. “What did I just do?”

“Angel and Demon are tied to the Devil. Angel was what Devil was once and Demon was what he became. I’ve been trying to find you and I didn’t realize you ended up here with Angel and Demon. How did you even get here?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Gabriel frowned. “Well, at least you defeated them.”

“I need to get to the waking portal,” Mugman begged Gabriel.

“Why?”

“Cassidy. I saw her suffering in that lab! Devil is controlling her and hurting her! I need to wake up! I need to get her before it’s too late!”

“I am not sure if it’s here. It appears whenever it appears.”

“I need it to appear now!”

“Hold on—”

Mugman and Gabriel noticed the skull opening its mouth. Gabriel arched a brow in suspicion and looked at Mugman.

“Should we go into the mouth of the Devil?” Mugman questioned Gabriel.

“Hmm,” Gabriel uttered.

~.~

Gabriel and Mugman walked through the mouth of the skull, their eyes wondering around.

“I’ve never done this before,” Gabriel uttered while they looked around the darkness.

“Done what before?”

“Defeating Angel and Demon. I’ve been staying away from them for a while. I never thought you ended up there.”

“Why would you avoid them?”

“Well, Angel isn’t really an angel. He’s a demon. But I’m sure he didn’t tell you that in the beginning.”

“He said he would be turned into a monster if I turned around.”

“Yeah, that sums it up. But you put up a pretty good fight out there,” Gabriel replied with a proud tone.

Mugman looked at his hands. “I, uh, thanks…it’s just that…I don’t feel like I’m in control of my powers.”

Gabriel frowned. “Yeah, they get out of control once you get emotional.”

Mugman tilted his head. “So…stop being emotional?”

“What? No, that’s not what I’m saying. You have control of your powers whether you are emotional or not. Your powers adapt over time. I know it’s weird, but there’s always going to be new things you could do that you never knew you could. That’s part of having the gifts.”

Mugman frowned and noticed the stairs on the side of the skull’s jaw. He and Gabriel exchanged gazes before heading up the stairs and saw Angel and Demon chained up tighter within the skull.

“You little—”

“Now, now, you’re the one who picked a fight with him,” Angel argued with Demon.

“Shut it! He shouldn’t be here in the first place!” Demon shouted at Angel.

Gabriel looked between them with a brow arched.

Mugman noticed the hollow eyes looking at Cassidy, standing beside him with her eyes red and white slit pupils. He drew his brows together and ran up to the hollow eyes.

“Hey, what are you doing—?”

Mugman’s eyes glowed blue, which turned the hollow eyes blue.

Meanwhile, Devil was at a conference room in Hell with the demons controlled by Tremaine, including Henchman, Stickler, and Cassidy.

“Now that Tremaine is effecting the water systems, it’s only a matter of time before everyone else could have this chemical inside of them—!” Devil’s pupils suddenly turned blue.

“LET HER GO!!!”

The scream sounded familiar. Oh no, he knew who was getting into his head.

It was soon that Mugman was forced out of the Devil’s skull along with Gabriel. Mugman fell into the dark pit, with Gabriel left behind with Angel and Demon.

“Mugman—!”

Mugman fell before the light enveloped him from behind.

~.~

Mugman gasped awake, feeling someone’s hands on his shoulders.

He sat up abruptly from the bed and noticed Cuphead’s hand on his shoulder. He saw Natalie, Canteen, and Chalice looking over at the mug.

“Easy there, buddy, easy—”

Mugman didn’t have time to take it easy. He hopped off the bed and ran out of the bedroom.

“Mugman!” The kids shouted.

Mugman didn’t listen as he ran out of the base, confusing Dice in the early morning.

“Where are you kids going?” Dice questioned.

“I don’t know!” Cuphead responded while chasing after his brother.

“We’ll be back!” Canteen reassured Dice before the kids ran out of the base to get Mugman.

Mugman’s wings spread and hopped off out of the ground. He flew up into the sky, trying to find the entrance to Hell.

However, Cuphead spread his own fiery wings and flew off after his brother.

Dice witnessed the brothers’ wings and looked at the coffee pot that he had been drinking. “And things just got weirder.”

Meanwhile, Mugman flapped his wings to keep himself up in the air. Cuphead dashed through the sky into his brother, tackling him.

“Mugman, what are you doing?!” Cuphead shouted as both of the brothers fell from the sky.

“Cuphead, let go of me!” Mugman growled. The brothers were falling into the volcano, crashing through paper that has the image of lava. They tumbled down into the Underworld and collapsed on the ground with groans in pain.

“What the—?” Cuphead uttered in shock and let go of his brother. “The volcano was the entrance this whole time?!”

Mugman stormed off, which caused Cuphead to hurry after him.

“Wait, Mugman, slow down.”

“Slow down?! Slow down?! You’re telling me to slow down!”

“Yes! You’re not thinking rationally!”

“Oh, and you do?!”

“At least for once, yes!” Cuphead argued.

Chalice floated down into Hell in her ghost form. “Will you two ding-dongs stopped your shouting? You’re gonna alert the Devil and his imps if you keep shouting like that. Natalie and Canteen might stay behind to get help—”

Canteen’s scream could be heard from above them as he crashed onto the ground with a groan. “Ow—”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” Natalie screamed until she landed onto Canteen’s stomach, causing him to grunt.

“Ow!” Canteen yelped.

“Sorry, sorry,” Natalie apologized instantly.

“Or not…” Chalice replied while looking at them both. “You guys okay?”

Canteen raised his thumb up with a wheeze. “I’m okay.”

Cuphead glanced at Natalie. “Are you okay?”

Natalie groaned while getting up on her feet. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Man, who would’ve thought a volcano would be a cover-up?”

“It’s kind of obvious,” Canteen said while covering his side.

Chalice put her hands on her hips. “Well, now that we’re here, we might as well come up with a genius plan to get Cassidy out of the Devil’s control. So I was—”

“Mugman left,” Canteen pointed out.

The kids looked to see a puff of smoke that had the silhouette of Mugman until it disappeared into thin air with a pop.

“Aw, come on!” Chalice responded irritably.

“Mugman!” Cuphead called while running off. Chalice, Canteen, and Natalie followed behind him.

Meanwhile, Mugman strode through Hell with determination. He didn’t care if it was getting hot or if this was a reckless plan. Cassidy was down there. He saw her getting tortured. What more of a reason to go down here without thinking of a plan?

Mugman was lost though. He couldn’t tell which direction he was going, but he didn’t care. He had to keep going straight until he could find Cassidy. Maybe he could talk some sense into her. Maybe he could break the Devil’s spell on her. Maybe he could save her.

The teen mug didn’t realize he stumbled into the room full of green gas and mirrors. Should he breathed into that stuff? It wasn’t killing him. However, he felt light-headed. Why? His answer came when he looked into the mirror. His eyes widened in horror to see himself in the mirror, covered in blood. In the reflection, his veins were glowing orange just like it did when he had Tremaine inside of him. He had fur and his eyes were yellow with red irises.

That monster in the reflection crawled out to reach for Mugman.

“Get away!” Mugman screamed and kept running ahead, hoping to get to the other side of this place. However, as he was running, he heard a familiar maniacal laughter echoing in the chambers. The mug gasped and whirled around, stumbling against the mirror that showed Hunter’s reflection. Mugman felt grabbed by the handle, using sparks to shoot at whoever was gripping him from behind. He stumbled onto the ground and looked up to see the familiar tiger looming over him with a sadistic smile.

“Hello, little animal, been a long time—” Hunter’s stomach opened as his guts fell out of him. His skin peeled off of his face while his fur fell on the floor. However, Hunter wasn’t the only one coming out of the mirror. There were thirty-six hooded figures coming out, each one had their stomachs opened with missing guts and intestines.

“No! No! I-I didn’t mean it like this! I-I—!” Mugman glanced down to find his hands covered in blood along with his clothes. He started to tear up, breathing heavily and pressing his head against his hands. He closed his eyes while the pain in him grew more. He could feel his body transforming into something that was not. He had to keep moving to find Cassidy—

He opened his eyes and found Cassidy laying there on the floor, her blood surrounding her. He shook his head while gritting his teeth in pain. He reached out towards her and cradled her. He sobbed into her chest.

“No-No! I’m so sorry, Cassi! I’m so so sorry! Please, come back to me!” Mugman sobbed while holding Cassidy so close. “I love you! I love you so much! Please, come back to me! Please!” He clenched his jaw, ignoring Hunter and the assassins around him. He didn’t care what they had to say.

He could hear footsteps, but he didn’t care who was approaching him. He wanted to stay here and hold Cassidy in his arms, praying to whoever could hear him to bring Cassidy back.

~.~

“Mugman!” Cuphead called while entering the hall where the green gas was. He looked around to find mirrors all around the hall. “Ooh, fancy.”

Chalice, Canteen, and Natalie caught up to Cuphead.

“You think Mugman could be in here?” Chalice asked Cuphead.

Cuphead shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

Cuphead strode into the room with confidence. Chalice, Canteen, and Natalie followed him with unsure looks on their faces. As they were walking through the hall of mirrors, Canteen messed around with the green gas.

“Uh, should this stuff kill us?” Canteen questioned the others.

He didn’t hear a respond.

“Guys?” Canteen looked up and found that his group was gone.

However, his surroundings changed. It was…the orphanage? Canteen looked around to find all the kids working their butts off until he could see the younger version of himself. It’s hard to believe that he was so closed off when he was younger. Although, Canteen knew why.

He looked to find parents wanting to adopt him, believing that he was exceptionally gifted with everything. A Jack of all trades, potential parents would say.

However, Canteen could see the first parents who adopted him. They looked so happy to bring Canteen home and Canteen…was much more happier than he did. Canteen’s environment changed into somewhere warm and cozy. He looked to watch his adopted mother playing the violin with a soft gasp.

Canteen started to get teary-eyed and pressed his hand against the invisible wall. He couldn’t reach them no matter how hard he tried to break down the wall. His adopted father was playing the piano while his adopted mother taught his younger self how to play the violin. The tears leaked out of his eyes as he shook his head. He knew what was going to happen next.

His environment changed dramatically to the sight of a broken car crashed into a building. He blinked and watched in horror to see that his adopted parents, who were so loving before, laying in their car seats limped. No one came to help them. No one came to save them from the wreckage. Canteen Hughes stood there with tears in his eyes.

He stepped back from the wreckage, shaking his head.

“No, wait—!”

Canteen’s surroundings changed, causing him to breathe heavily once he was back in the orphanage. He blinked and caught his breath once another set of parents adopted him. A mechanic and his wife. Canteen remembering how to fix cars from the couple a long time ago. He was in their house, but he could hear them fighting constantly.

Little Canteen was thirsty one night and went into the kitchen to get a cup of water. When he entered the kitchen, his eyes widened in horror. He saw his other adopted mother by his adopted father. He glanced over at Canteen, who trembled at the sight of his adopted father holding the knife. However, his adopted father shed tears once he realized he had killed his wife. Little Canteen watched his own adopted father over taken by grief and guilt that his adopted father slit his own throat.

Little Canteen screamed in terror, shedding tears and trembling. He had to call for help and he did. Canteen, now older, watched his younger self crying and grieving over his adopted parents. His surroundings changed back to the orphanage, now witnessing the caretakers for the orphanages whispering things for potential parents that caused to look at young Canteen in discomfort and look for other kids to adopt.

“Bad luck, Hughes!”

Canteen clenched his jaw and glanced at the other kids to see them shouting in terror and pointing at him.

“No, it’s not true—”

“Don’t adopt him, he’ll bring you bad luck,” the caretakers whispered around him.

“Parents died after they adopted him. He’s not convicted of anything…but he seems to bring bad luck to the new parents who adopts him,” the caretakers said to the parents.

Canteen shaking his head. “It’s not true. It’s not my fault!”

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“SHUT UP!” Canteen barked at the voices around him. Everything went dark around him. He was frozen in fear while more voices were shouting at him.

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“It’s not true!” Canteen cried, but the voices insisted.

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

Canteen covered the sides of his head as if he was covering his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut. Trying not to cry or let it get to him, the voices went inside of his head even when he covered his ears.

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

He screamed, trying to be louder than the voices in his head. But no matter what he was doing, he could still hear the voices.

~.~

Chalice heard Canteen’s scream as she whirled around. She saw Canteen crouched down, covering his head with tears trickling into his googles.

“Canteen? Canteen?!” Chalice shouted in concern. She breathed in the gas and stumbled once she felt a little light-headed. She glanced over to see…herself except more taller. In her reflection, she had a white gown on with a golden shawl on her shoulders. She was glowing in the light, but there was blood on her golden hands. She had a golden spear.

Chalice blinked and shook her head before her surroundings transformed into a battlefield. Was this the battlefield that Mugman claimed to be seeing? No…it wasn’t. She saw her friends from her group known as the Calix Animi lying dead all around her. She looked at herself to realize that she had grown taller with bloodied hands. Chalice sniffled and looked to see her best friend laying dead on the grass.

“Gabriel?” Chalice called while coming up to the dead cup on the battlefield. She collapsed on her knees and cradled him in her arms. She clenched her jaw. “Gabriel, Gabriel! Can you hear me?!” She looked up and gasped in horror when new bodies were on the battlefield of everyone she was grouped with. The ones that stood out to her was Cuphead and Mugman laying on the battlefield and bleeding.

“Ding dongs! Hey! Are you guys okay?!” Chalice cried, running towards them.

The brothers didn’t respond to her call.

“GUYS!” Chalice sobbed while looking up to see Canteen laying against the boulder, limped. She shook her head and came by his side. “Canteen? Canteen, hey! C’mon, wake up! Wake up!”

Soon, she was surrounded by more and more dead bodies. She looked up to find the Devil and his army, coming towards the battlefield and readying their weapons. She stood alone with her spear, glaring ahead of her.

~.~

Natalie looked at the mirrors around her with each of her reflection staring back at her. She was behind Cuphead, but not very long when she realized that her reflections were starting to show her ugliness with her hair out of control, missing her front tooth, and chips all over her face.

“Oh no, Natalie, you’re losing your beauty. No one is going to want an ugly duckling, now would they?”

Natalie heard the voice of her mother and quickly rushed to pretty herself up as fast as she could. But no matter how hard she tried to look beautiful, she kept getting uglier and uglier to the point where even make-up wouldn’t even save her beauty. She shook her head.

“Ugh, why can’t I just—?”

A maniacal laugh echoed behind Natalie. She tensed up and noticed someone behind in the reflection. She looked behind her and saw a familiar friend in a red dress and red eyes standing there and leaning against the reflection.

“How cute. You’re still worried about your looks,” Cassidy spoke with a sadistic smile. “You’re still the same Natalie that I remembered.”

“Cassi?” Natalie recognized tearfully.

“Why don’t we catch up?” Cassidy responded with the orange glow in her veins. “I heard that our school is holding a reunion for all the students there. Sadly, I wasn’t invited. But who says that I needed to be invited when I can just come anyway? Why don’t I take you there, hm?”

Natalie watched everything shift around. She blinked in shock when the earth was moving under her feet. “Cassi, what are you doing?”

Cassidy smirked evilly and teleported them out of the hall of mirrors.

Natalie and Cassidy were at the school…but was the school real? Did Cassidy take Natalie into her mind? Was this all a hallucination?

“Oh, look, we’re here,” Cassidy said with a bright smile, turning Natalie around to have her focus on Cassidy when she was a kitten. Young Cassidy was walking with Porkrind and Jerry to school. Young Cassidy was clutching onto Porkrind’s leg.

“Don’t make me go. Don’t make me go—”

It fast forward suddenly, earning a brow raised from Natalie. If Natalie could recall correctly, she could remember Porkrind and Jerry trying to soothe her into going to school. Something wasn’t right in the memories.

It fast forward to when Young Cassidy was about to approach Young Natalie.

“Ooh, I remember this part really well,” Cassidy said while gripping on Natalie’s shoulders to make her watch the memory unfold.

Young Cassidy approached Young Natalie, who looked at the kitten in annoyance.

“Hi, I’m Cassidy. What’s your name?” Young Cassidy chirped.

“Ugh, I don’t befriend peasants who wear overalls,” Young Natalie responded with a scoff. The other little girls that Young Natalie was friends with laughed at Young Cassidy.

Young Cassidy frowned and closed herself off.

Natalie clenched her jaw. “Oh yeah…I definitely remembered that.”

“That’s good. I was gettin’ worried that you’re going to gaslight me like you usually do.”

“G-Gaslight?” Natalie questioned.

“Oh, you don’t think you did? Let’s see what else you did—Oh, I think I found some memories that might tell us more about you.”

Cassidy snapped her fingers and the memory of Young Natalie watching Young Cassidy carried and thrown into the lake by Jimmy and Jamie, laughing along with her friends.

“WAIT!!!” Natalie screamed, but the bullies threw Young Cassidy into the lake. It was sudden that Natalie was thrusted into another memory of where the bullies threw Cassidy into the tall hollow tree trunk while Young Natalie was laughing along with her friends. Young Cassidy cried while scratching on the wood.

“Please! Let me out! Please!!! Let me out!!!” Young Cassidy cried.

“Wait, Cassi! I didn’t laugh during those times.”

“Oh, here you go again with the gaslighting,” Cassidy said with a smirk. “You know, you oughta try a little harder to be manipulative—”

Natalie and Cassidy noticed Young Natalie heading over to the empty tree trunk with rope and ladder. Young Natalie took the ladder and climbed up to throw down the rope. Young Cassidy climbed out of the tree trunk and tumbled onto the ground along with Young Natalie.

“Thank you,” Young Cassidy uttered.

Young Natalie shook her head. “Don’t mention it.”

“No, really, I—”

“I mean, don’t ever mention to anyone that I helped a social outcast. Just go back home and don’t let them catch you, got it?” Young Natalie responded.

Young Cassidy nodded her head.

“Good. Now go.”

Young Cassidy hurried off with Young Natalie watching the little kitten softly.

Cassidy widened her eyes, the red disappeared. She looked back at Natalie with normal-looking eyes.

“Cassi!” Natalie replied happily.

Cassidy winced back from Natalie, stuck in her memories. “Natalie…what…where are we?”

“Uh…I think you took me into your memories…don’t even ask me how. But I’m so happy that you’re back and—!”

Cassidy’s eyes instantly changed back to red with white slit pupils. “You’re happy that I’m back? I thought I was a burden to you.”

Natalie blinked in shock. “Cassi…about what I said in the dungeons, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Yes, you did. Every single word.”

“Cassi, you really don’t think less of me, do you? Are you really going to judge me for one mistake I made?”

“One mistake?” Cassidy scoffed. “One mistake?! Oh, you’ve made a lot more than one.”

“What?”

Cassidy snapped her fingers. “Didn’t you tell me that you’ve befriended me out of pity?”

“C-Cassi—”

Natalie looked up and saw the younger versions of Natalie and Cassidy hanging out together. They were ten if Natalie remembered correctly.

“The only reason why I’m even friends with you is because I feel sorry for you,” Young Natalie responded. “And I want to be friends just to spite Mom. Mom keeps expecting me to do so much and it’s gettin’ tiring. Sooo, what do you say? You want to be my friend?”

“Sure,” Young Cassidy replied happily.

“Such a burden of a friend who wanted nothing more than someone her age to befriend her,” Cassidy replied with a sly grin. “But she’s so desperate for a friend…I’m desperate for a friend, Natalie…and you haven’t been a very good friend.”

Natalie looked through memories of memories where she started to breathe heavily.

“Ugh, Cassidy, it’s no big deal. You can still eat the sugar.”

“Oh my gosh, why did you throw up so much?”

“Relax, Cassi, it’s not like going to fairs are gonna kill ya.”

“See? Everything works in our favor.”

“Ugh, Cassidy, you can be such a worry wart sometimes.”

“Cassidy, you need to make yourself look pretty if you want someone to be impressed by you.”

“SHUT UP!” Natalie shouted while watching many memories of Natalie walking over Cassidy and pressuring Cassidy of doing things that Natalie wanted to do.

“Ugh, here we go, she’s going to rant.”

“Why can’t we just go to the water park instead of the library?”

“Come on, Cassi! It’s not like the water is going to kill you.”

“Are you really going to leave your friend out to dry? Or are you going to be a good friend and come with me to try this sushi place?”

Natalie breathed heavily. “Cassi…”

“You remembered all of this, do you?”

She shook her head and looked at her best friend. “Cassi, look, these were all just—”

“WHY ARE YOU SUCH A BURDEN?!”

Natalie clenched her teeth and grabbed her head. “I didn’t mean for any of this. I made a mistake, Cassidy. I made a mistake.”

“Oh no…not a mistake. You’ve never really cared about me,” Cassidy growled at Natalie. “You’ve just used me as your pawn for your little rebellion against your mom. You know that I’m desperate for a friend my age and you took advantage of that. You may have saved me from that tree trunk, but you still didn’t care. You always want to look good in both looks and personality. But here you are…uglier than you’ve ever been before.”

“Please, Cassi—”

Cassidy gripped around Natalie’s throat. “Tell me, Natalie. Am I ever good enough to be your friend? Or do you still think I should’ve been dead along with my kind?”

“Cassi—I didn’t mean any of those words.”

“Nuh-uh, remember the memories you saw. Remember how careless you were of me. Now answer me. Am I ever going to be good enough to be your friend or do I deserve to die along with my kind?”

Natalie breathed heavily in fear.

~.~

Cuphead continued onward, unaware of his friends staying behind and under their hallucinations. However, he saw his brother ahead, cradling something but there was nothing in his arms.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

“Mugman?” Cuphead uttered until he got a little light-headed. Mugman disappeared from his vision…which was strange.

His surroundings changed into Elder Kettle’s house as he turned around behind him to find Mugman’s body sprawled on the floor. He was bleeding everywhere as if something just killed him. Cuphead breathed heavily in fear.

“Mugman…Mugman! Noo!! This is all in my head—wait a minute,” Cuphead uttered and looked at his brother. “Wait, I saw you a second ago. There ain’t no way you’re dead.”

Mugman suddenly snapped his eyes open with red in his irises and his monstrous form taking over.

Cuphead squinted at Mugman in confusion. “Wait, we just got Tremaine out of you. There ain’t no way you got Tremaine inside of you again.”

Mugman froze in shock.

“Yeah, this is definitely in my head. Wait, what’s the word where you’re seeing things that aren’t really there? Hmm…”

Mugman leaped to attack Cuphead, who was fighting back.

“Hold on, I know the word…what is it?”

Mugman started to roar like a maniac while Cuphead was throwing him down on the ground.

“Will ya calm down for one second?! I’m over here racking my brain around about what a hallucination is.” Cuphead widened his eyes with a bright smile. “Hey, that’s right. Hallucinations are hallucinations.”

Mugman didn’t say with him.

“Hey, you didn’t say it with me. You’re not real!” Cuphead shouted at his hallucinations.

Cuphead was brought back to reality, which he realized that he was facing a mirror the entire time. He blinked to see the red outline protecting him from the fear gas around him. The young cup brightly smiled and looked back to see Mugman cradling something that wasn’t there. With determination, he came by his brother and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. There was a sudden red outline around his body. Mugman blinked to realize he wasn’t holding anything and looked up to find Cuphead with his hand resting on his brother’s shoulder.

Cuphead smiled and helped his brother up on his feet. Both Cuphead and Mugman went around the mirror hall, holding hands to keep Mugman sane throughout the trip. They saw Chalice trying to fight off something. Cuphead grabbed her shoulder, letting the red outline around Chalice. Chalice blinked in shock as the three of them saw Canteen covering his head with tears in his eyes.

They walked over to Canteen with Cuphead holding both Mugman’s and Chalice’s hands. Chalice reached over and placed her hand Canteen’s shoulder. The red outline went around Canteen, snapping him back to reality. He looked up to find Chalice pulling him up on his feet. She held his hand tightly so that they wouldn’t let go.

They looked around the mirror hall to not find Natalie anywhere, which was strange. Where did she go? They walked out of the hall of mirrors and stood in horror, their eyes widened to find Cassidy holding Natalie hostage by her throat.

“Looking for her?” Cassidy asked the other kids.

“Cassi, let’s talk about this,” Chalice responded, putting her hands up.

“What’s there to talk about?” Cassidy growled at the gold chalice. “You all think I’m a burden somewhat. You all take advantage of me.” She tossed Natalie onto the floor, causing her to cough for air.

“We didn’t take advantage of you,” Canteen pointed out.

“Oh, I guess they’re developing your controlling ways, Natalie. You must have influenced them good,” Cassidy growled in disbelief.

“Cassi, it’s true,” Cuphead responded. “We never took advantage of you.”

“Yeah, Devil is lying about your memories. Cassi, please, listen to us,” Chalice replied, stepping closer to Cassidy. “We swear on our lives that we have never took advantage of you. Okay? In fact, when someone is callin’ ya a burden, we would defend you to the death.”

“That’s true,” Canteen agreed.

“Please, honey, snap out of this,” Mugman begged his girlfriend.

Cassidy blinked and her eyes went back to normal. She gasped to see Mugman again. “Mugman?” She looked down to see Natalie coughing out. Cuphead sped towards Natalie and carried her in his arms.

“I-I don’t know what I’m doing,” Cassidy uttered while shedding tears.

It was sudden that the orange glow in her veins took control of her again, causing her to scream.

Chalice gasped and looked back at Cuphead and Natalie. “Cups, take Natalie back to base. We’ll catch up.”

Cuphead shook his head. “Wait, then how are you guys gonna get through the room?”

“We’ll figure it out. Just go!” Chalice demanded.

Cuphead sighed and held Natalie close in a protective manner. Cuphead spread his fiery wings and flew away from the group.

Chalice turned into the ghost and zoomed inside of Cassidy to possess her.

“M-Mugman…take her…now!”

Mugman didn’t hesitate to spread his wings and flew into Cassidy, picking her up in his arms. He flew around towards the hall and picked Canteen up onto his back. Both Mugman and Canteen held their breaths and closed their eyes.

Mugman flew blindly through the gas chamber in the hall of mirrors before stumbling out.

While Mugman was trying to fly to the exit, Cassidy snapped her red eyes open and used telepathic forces to push Mugman and Canteen off of her. Mugman and Canteen flipped over her and tumbled onto the ground. Soon, Chalice was shoved out of Cassidy’s body.

Chalice’s body transformed into her physical form with a groan in pain.

As Chalice was standing up, Cassidy glared at her.

“You swore on your lives you hadn’t taken advantage of me…” Cassidy growled while forming a fireball in her hands. “I guess you really didn’t mean it.” She shot her fireball at Chalice.

Canteen noticed this and hurried towards Chalice. “CHALICE, LOOK OUT!!”

Before Chalice could have the time to react and dodge away from the fireball, Canteen shoved her out of the way. He took the hit and was slammed against the wall behind him. Chalice tumbled on the ground and looked up to see Canteen laying against the wall. He wasn’t breathing at the moment, causing her to rush by his side.

“Canteen!” Chalice cried and kneeled by his side. “Canteen! Wake up! Come on! Come on!”

Mugman saw this and looked up to see Cassidy ready to fire another fireball at Chalice. He clenched his teeth and jumped in between Chalice and Cassidy. He folded his wings to shield himself with electricity on his wings.

Chalice widened her eyes to watch him shield her and Canteen from another hit.

Mugman managed to throw the fireball away from him. He looked up at her with blue eyes. “Please, Cassi, I don’t want to fight you. Please…”

“You’re not so different after all,” Cassidy growled at Mugman.

Mugman softened his gaze and shook his head. “Cassi…don’t make me fight you.”

Cassidy charged towards Mugman, who shielded himself with his wings. She took his wing and threw him against the wall with a newfound strength.

Mugman dodged her next attack with her throwing rocks at him. “Cassi—please, stop.”

Cassidy kept throwing rocks at him, which made him irritated. He felt sparks coming out of his body. He flew towards her, his fingers locked with hers to hold back of her attacks.

“Honey, I’m serious. I don’t want to fight you,” Mugman snarled at Cassidy.

“Why not?” She growled and pinned him against the wall harshly.

“Cassi—”

She threw a punch on his cheek. “Tell me. Why don’t you want to fight me?”

“Because—”

She threw another punch against his face, worsening the sparks coming out of his body. “Because of what?!”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!!!” Mugman screamed, the sparks coming out and pushing Cassidy back away from him.

Cassidy tumbled away from Mugman.

Mugman breathed heavily and saw her passed out on the floor. “C-Cassi?”

Chalice watched with shock while picking Canteen in her arms.

Before Mugman could come over to check on Cassidy, he felt a web on his back. He glanced behind and noticed Chalice and Canteen having the same thing. They were suddenly yanked up through the exit.

“CASSI!!! NO!!!”

~.~

As they were being pulled up, Mugman was struggling against the web. It was revealed that Charlie was the one who was pulling them up from Hell with the help of Esther and O’Fera.

“What were you bozos doin’ down there?!” Charlie scolded the kids.

“Canteen is hurt!” Chalice alerted the others while O’Fera pulled Canteen off of the web. She examined quickly before carrying him in her arms.

“We got to go back to base. Hurry!” O’Fera demanded.

“Wait, Cassi is still down there!” Mugman shouted while the others were sprinting back to base.

“We’ll come back for her later, sonny,” Esther reassured Mugman.

“No, we have to get her now!!” Mugman demanded while breaking through the web with his sparks, scaring Charlie.

When he was about to fly away and back to Hell to get to Cassidy, Esther used her lasso and roped him back to them.

“Hold on there, sonny!” Esther responded. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“We have to go back to base. Canteen is injured,” O’Fera responded to Mugman. “We have to make a proper plan to get in—”

“No, I can’t. I can’t wait. She was right there. I have to—I have to—” Mugman instantly fainted.

“Uh…what just happened?” Charlie uttered while they watched him tossed and turned, his eyes suddenly turning blue.

“I think he’s seeing visions…pick him up. Hurry,” O’Fera demanded.

Esther picked Mugman up and they all rushed back to base.

Once they returned to base, Cuphead and Natalie saw them.

Canteen was set on the table while Bulldog was working on his wounds to help him feel better. Mugman was placed on the bed by Esther, who was still tossing and turning until his eyes finally closed and stopped moving.

“Uh…guys…I think Mugman’s not moving,” Esther alerted the others.

O’Fera entered the room and checked for Mugman’s heartbeat. “He’s got a steady heartbeat. Mugman...can you hear me? Mugman?!”

Mugman fell into a deep sleep.

"Mugman! Mugman!!!" 

Mugman gasped awake. Sitting up, he realized that he was in a field of green grass. He didn’t know why he fainted. What happened? Why couldn’t he wake up now? He got up and looked around to find a woman cup sitting by the full-grown willow tree, vines and leaves dangling around her to give her shade from the bright light. She had blonde hair covering her head when she was reading a book until she looked up to find Mugman approaching her.

He tilted his head and widened his eyes in recognition. “M-Ma?”

She smiled softly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“W-What happened? Where am I?”

“You’re in someplace safe.”

“I-I can’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“Cassi…my girlfriend…she’s-she’s in trouble, Ma. I need to go back. I need to save her.”

“Why do you always feel the need to save people?”

Mugman blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Why do you always feel the need to save people? First, your brother. And now your girlfriend. Why do you always feel like you need to be the one to save people?”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

His mother sat up straighter. “You told me that you need to save her. Why? What does that mean when you said that?”

Mugman seemed to be confused for a moment. “I-I don’t know. I mean, that I need to save her from Devil.”

“You need to save your brother from Devil too—”

“Because I can’t live without them, okay?” Mugman started to whimper, hugging himself. “I feel like I have to save them, because if I don’t…they…they’ll be dead. And it’ll be my fault. All of it is my fault.”

“Now, that’s not fair, is it?” His mother responded. “You’ve put too much blame on yourself for too long. You’ve put the responsibility of your brother’s life and your girlfriend’s life on your shoulders. You love them and you want to save them. But you can’t always save everyone you care about. Sometimes, things happen to some people and…you can’t always be the one to stop or save them.”

“But I’ve killed people, Ma! I’ve killed people while Tremaine was inside of me! I-I didn’t mean any of it. I can’t sleep without seeing Hunter. I had to make something up for all the damages I caused for everyone—”

His mother shook her head. “Mugman…you’re blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control at the time. The kills you’ve made were not intentional. Not the way I see it at least. But now that Tremaine is out of you, you are free from the shackles the chemical gave you. The damages you’ve caused were repaired already. You can’t keep blaming yourself like this. It’s not fair to blame yourself for something that you can’t control. You can’t control the outcome, Mugman. You can only control how you behave, act, and perceive the world.”

He rubbed his arm and lowered his gaze on the grass. “I want to save her.”

“I know, son. I know. You said you can’t sleep without dreaming of Hunter, right?”

“Y-Yeah.”

She put the book down and opened her arms.

Mugman tilted his head in confusion for a moment until he crawled into his mother’s arms. She cradled him and kept him close. Mugman suddenly felt warmth and comfort in his mother’s arms.

“You won’t dream of Hunter here,” she said softly.

“But I need to save her—”

“Shh, I know. I know. But if you want to save her, you can’t do it with bags under your eyes. I’ve noticed you haven’t been getting sleep.”

Mugman started to get drowsy, laying against his mother’s chest.

“And Mugman—.”

Mugman perked his head up slightly.

“—You don’t always have to do things alone. Sometimes you will need help from others. And sometimes, the best outcome happens when others are helping out.”

Mugman nodded his head with a hum and fell asleep on what he thought was his mother’s chest. The white robed figure held onto Mugman’s small body gently. His face was covered by a bright light. He looked out into the field while holding Mugman close to him like a protective parent. 

To Be Continued...

[boredwritergirl]

Day 17 - The Starving Artist part 2

This is Part 2 of Day 5's entry, The Starving Artist

The Starving Artist Part 2

Eloise sat outside the hostel, finishing another bottle of red. Crouched down in the slums of her once beautiful city, she stared at the now empty bottle. 

‘How many of these did I drink today?’ She asked herself, lost in thought. It had been far from the first time that she had asked herself this. While Wine might not have the highest alcoholic content in it, Eloise found herself more and more as she struggled to live in the Nazi occupied city of Paris.

The door beside her opened and the nurse, Céline stepped out, an unlit cigarette in her hand. She looked down at Eloise as she took out her zippo and started a flame, holding it out to the densely wrapped tobacco between her lips. She blew out a puff of smoke before finally asking. “What are you still doing here?”

Eloise sighed. She couldn’t really look at her directly, so she settled for the light reflection of her onto the clear wine bottle, the candle light in between them providing the view on this dreary night. “How long has she been in there?”

Céline asked, “Whom?” in a flat tone, struggling to keep herself too invested.

Elosie said, “The old woman, The one I sketched. How long was she in there?”

Céline shrugged, “Maybe five years, or ten or however many. She was there before I got here.”

“You know she actually woke up this time? I couldn’t believe that.”

“Yes, right. You mentioned that before. The first time she had been fully conscious since I arrived. What of it?” Céline asked as she took a deep inhale, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of the smoke building up and being expelled from her body.

“She knew so little of the world. She seemed so… Happy. Like she knew that her son was going to come for her one day. I don’t know how anyone can believe such things at a time like this.” Eloise sniffled, her eyes covered by a thick layer of water just waiting to escape her eyelids.

Céline rolled her eyes, looking up at the dark sky above before finally looking down at Eloise and doing a half assed attempt to disguise her sigh as blowing more smoke. “It’s easy to have hope when you’re living a good life. Things weren't always so bad and things might get better, but it’ll never get the same as it used to be. Who’s to say if hope is truly dead or not? That’s for the next generation to decide, long after this war is over and done with.”

“I think I had hope once…” Eloise said. “I used to be naive and wide eyed. I left my family farm to come here. I painted the serene landscapes as I traveled, and what did it get me? I always wanted to move to Paris and become an artist… I guess I got my wish…” Some of the tears finally let loose as they began to traverse down her cheek, dangling and slowly dripping off her chin. “I… I asked for this life. I had no idea how bad things were going to get. Just how quickly France would fall in this war. What if it never gets better? Could I seriously live with myself like this? Just rotting on the streets?”

Céline sat down beside Eloise, telling her, “Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. We can’t focus on such thoughts when people haven’t given up yet. That’s why your mission is important at all. Couriers like you keep the resistance talking, especially when we fear those pigs might be onto us. As long as there’s people willing to fight, the struggle isn’t completely hopeless… just mostly hopeless.”

Eloise wiped her face, “Wow, you’re really not good at being uplifting, are you?”

Céline let out a laugh, the closest thing to a smile Eloise ever saw on that face. “No, I’m not. I don’t know much about any of that freudian junk. But what I do know is how to numb the pain.

Céline passed her cigarette over to Eloise, who gladly accepted it, taking a deep puff of smoke.

[pyr0man1c]

I need to keep ranting about obey me characters and if they’d like ASOUE.

The original Satan and Barbatos one here

There will be spoilers for A series of unfortunate events!!

In order:

Lucifer wouldn’t particularly enjoy it but he can recognize the story, plot, and style and if he enjoys anything in it. Probably likes the dark academia look of the series.

I feel like his favorite character would be Lemony Snicket, Lucifer likes the tone and scene Lemony sets, his words, and also how he’s constantly telling the watcher to “look away” from the tragic tale and find something better and more enjoyable.

Mammon would really like it, not that he thinks it’s bad just that it’s not his thing. If he had to say something he likes it would probably be how rich the Squalors are how the plot is well written and shows characters and how they grow(I would say “development” but mammon doesn’t know that word yet)

Mammon would say his favorite character is Sir(form the Miserable Mill episode) but it’s actually something like Jerome, or Jacque.

Jerome not only the riches but also how he stood up against someone he loved (Esme) for some kids he barely knew and because he didn’t want to take her manipulation anymore, he likes the bravery and selflessness he had.

Jacque because Mammon just likes Jacques personality (and how he practically insulted a child) and got killed trying to save the Quagmire triplets and Baudelaire’s.

It’s not Levi’s his thing, he prefers his anime and not “normie shows”. (😔) he would probably hear about the mystery in it and be like,

“Omg!!! Reminds me of [insert very long obscure mystery anime name]”

At least he has something to enjoy with that..ig???

I honestly think Levi like Montgomery Montgomery. The guys has hundreds of REPTILES. Who would love that?? LEVI. THE SNAKE DUDE!!!

I feel like Monty’s energy and how uplifting he is would completely mild out Levi’s insecure and self destructive energy. (They’re both too focused on reptiles to care about feeling bad)

I already covered Satan but I have something else, I link my first one!

I already said Satan would like Klaus..but I also think he’d like Olivia Caliban. She’s a librarian, smart, makes literary references, he’d love her character, so much!!

Speaking about personality wise, she likes how she sacrificed herself to be eaten by fucking lions. LIONS. SHES A FUCKING BADASS.

(He’d probably like the quagmires too, went fucking crazy when they revealed Quigley was still alive)

He was so invested when she and Jacque started having romance and absolutely heartbroken when he died.

Asmo would find it too sad, he can’t ruin his perfect makeup!! (Also it’s just tragic) He wouldn’t really enjoy it the style is too dark, at least some of them have good fashion sense he can admit that.

Hands down..Asmo would like Esme. Not because of her actions against the Baudelaire’s that’s just bad, he likes her fashion and obsession with looks, he’d watch it and be like “this isn’t..omg, girl slay haha babe that’s so pretty” He understands the “pinstripes are in, and those nasty outfits you’re wearing? Are out.” “you’re so right girl”

I feel like he’d hate Carmelita because she’s just a bitch.

Beelzebub is probably mixed, he doesn’t hate it but he doesn’t necessarily like it, I’m having a hard time here okay

This one is easy, his favorite character is Larry your Waiter. Duh, the guy is a waiter and can make some bomb ass root beer floats I mean did you SEE the root beer floats in that one episode??? Fucking delicious.

Belphegor could care less, yeah it’s cool but I wanna go to bed?? He’d watch it if he had too and wouldn’t complain at least it’s kinda cool.

I cant think of anyone he’d like, he’s probably jealous of that scene of Jerome just fucking conked out on the couch tho.

Diavolo thinks it’s interesting, he’d find it sad but thinks it’s very good and well written, would watch if he felt like it.

His favorite would probably be Justice Strauss, her energy matches his, energetic and caring, 10/10.

Or Charles and Phil from the lucky smells lucky mill.

Barbatos i already talked about with Satan

I honestly think Simeon would be interested and I think he’d like it, despite the tragedy its well written and interesting, he’d watch it.

His favorites would probably be Strauss and Monty, they’re both just so caring, kind, and comforting! (Monty’s cake also looked delicious as hell he wants it)

I feel like he’d like the Baudelaire’s and Quagmires too, all of them, their so devoted, forgiving and caring he thinks their such good kids.

I think Luke wouldn’t be allowed to watch it, Simeon doesn’t really want him to, Luke was upset until Solomon was like “okay watch it then” and Luke was so sad after like..Solomon..wtf..☹️

Luke likes the beginning of the reptile room with meeting Monty that was very nice, and when the Baudelaire’s met Strauss. Happy moments guys happy moments..

If Luke had favorites it would be Sunny and Strauss, Sunny is into cooking and baking and he is too, he also loves Strauss motherly energy, very nice.

He had nightmares of Count Olaf for a week.

Solomon feeds off the tragedy..he loves it..so why wouldn’t he love this sad story. Him and Satan agree it’s a great series, 10/10.

His favorites are any character who is fucking psycho Monty and Olivia, he likes the reef he Monty does, I mean, Solomon is a sorcerer who likes research, he likes Monty. He likes Olivia’s book smarts and how she can just be like “oh you need a book on [very specific weird thing]? I got it.”

Bonus!

All of them agree that the Baudelaire’s and Quagmire tripletes, they’re respectful, kind, caring, smart, and overall good kids.

End notes

Guys mid way through this I found out that Sir and Charles are a gay couple, and then Charles was with fucking Jerome my suspicion was true.(now I remember it being hinted but omg)

This was meant to be more serious and it was in the beginning with Lucifer and Mammon but it devolved into my rambling, I’m sorry for that😭

If it looks like I favored Mammon with how long his is I don’t, I just had a lot more for him because his felt easier and I wanted to get that out.

There are character in ASOUE I wish I included but I haven’t watched the series for a bit so either:

I don’t remember the characters.

I don’t remember/know enough about them.

[missimformation]

Moving Mountains: Together Again Trying to keep her mind distracted hadn't come easy for Yuri lately. Being in the field of computer science, Yuri was a professional when it came to maintaining focus regardless of the pressure she was under. If only she could use those same techniques during the time she spent not working. Even video games couldn't distract her mind as of late. Yuri had been in a relationship for the past three years… until now. It had been almost two months since the breakup and her heart physically ached at times; the rush of emotions would swoop in and hit her like a bag of bricks. It was almost always when she was at home failing to find a distraction. She hadn't even managed to tell her friends yet. Her best friends, Ronnee and Izzy, would inevitably race to her side to support her if she let them. Surely, she would have the chance to confide in them since she knew that they would be taking their annual vacation soon. Yuri looked forward to it. Not only could she find a nice distraction at the spa, snowboarding, and cuddling up in a beautiful rental to watch movies, but because once she allowed her emotions to pour out to them, there would be a major weight lifted off of her shoulders.

In her bed, Yuri scrolled through Simstagram. She wasn't really seeing anything she was staring down at, much less reading. She had blocked any and all chances of seeing her ex on social media in fear that she was simply too fragile right now. Time passed quickly, the dim light coming through her windows beginning to fade. The evening darkness brought a peaceful silence with it and Yuri's eyelids began to feel heavy. Before she knew it, sleep enveloped her like a blanket. The next morning, the sleepy Yuri blinked her eyes with grogginess and confusion. Had she fallen asleep in her clothes? She wasn't even under the covers of her bed, barely a wrinkle made on them actually. "I must have slept like a rock…" she mumbled to herself. She sat up and stretched, brushing down her hair with her fingers to smooth it out as she headed to the ladder that extended to the main floor and living area. Her stomach was growling, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the morning prior. Along with her rumbling stomach, a gentle meow came from the bottom of the ladder. "Good morning, Viola!" Yuri exclaimed, surprised by the uplifting tone of voice that came from her own mouth. "Let's get some breakfast." She scooped up the tiny beige kitten, snuggling her as she proceeded to the kitchen to serve herself and Viola breakfast.

After they were both satisfied with breakfast, Yuri grabbed the feathered cat toy she had bought at the time of the kitten's adoption. "Want to get some exercise in this morning?" As she wiggled the toy with a bell and feathers on the end, Viola crouched down to pounce. Yuri couldn't help but giggle at the clumsy kitten, watching as she sat back on her haunches and raised her front paws to swat at the toy playfully. They continued this for several minutes before Yuri's phone began ringing. Yuri sat the cat toy on the floor in front of Viola, not wanting to pull it away since the kitten had gotten her claws lodged into a feather and wouldn't let go. On the phone's screen, Yuri saw Ronnee's picture along with the incoming call notification. "Ronnee!" Yuri sat down on the couch, holding the phone in front of her for the video call. "I feel like I haven't seen your face in forever!" Ronnee was smiling back at her, but Yuri could see the suspicious concern on her face. "Um, Yuri? Did you stay out too late last night or…" Yuri forced the corners of her mouth to lift in order to attempt to appear her normal, cheerful self. "Oh, yeah I'm fine. I slept like a rock last night! I actually fell asleep with my clothes on; didn't even put on my pajamas!" Ronnee's eyebrows lifted, "Really? You're a stickler about having on comfortable pj's. So, you must have been exhausted." Yuri shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, not sure why she didn't just tell the truth. She would rather wait until they were all in person. If she told Ronnee now, she would still have to be alone after hanging up the phone. She didn't want to get on the subject right now. "Anyways," Ronnee said, "we are coming to town for vacation soon! And I managed to grab an extra week to add to the stay too. I already called the rental and let them know that we would be staying an additional 7 days this time." Since they always used the same rental property for their vacations, they were comfortable with the owners. Not only were they nice enough to cut the price in half for the three friends, but they kept the rental unoccupied for a couple months out of the year around the time that the friendly vacations were normally scheduled. Yuri's father also did business with them for as long as she could remember. Ronnee's father knew them as well… perhaps their sympathy to Ronnee was another reason for the generosity. "Really?!" Yuri exclaimed, "That is so exciting! When are you and Izzy coming into town?" She was grateful that her job was so flexible and also able to be done remotely, not that she planned on working much or at all during the much-needed vacation. "Two weeks! I know it is a little short notice, but I wanted it to be a surprise if I could manage it. The rental has been completely remodeled too!"

The two chatted on a video call for a little longer, catching up on things like work and how Yuri's parents were doing, the weather, and other miniscule things. "Did I just hear… a meow?" Ronnee asked with one eyebrow raised. "Oh, right! Yes, I recently welcomed this little one…" Yuri said as she reached down with one hand to scoop up the tiny kitten and raising her gently in front of the phone and continued, "Viola! She is going to join us on our vacation!" She had considered whether or not it was the best idea to adopt a kitten knowing they would be going on vacation soon but after meeting the sweet natured girl, there was no doubt that she would proceed with the adoption. She was happy to bring Viola along with them. "Izzy recently adopted too…" The side of Ronnee's mouth lifted, telling Yuri that she was amused for some reason. "He's a young pup." Yuri pursed her lips, giving Viola a quick glance. "Calm down, Yuri," Ronnee chuckled, "I promise it's going to be fine. They will get along well. Her newest friend is just a goofball. I'm not sure he has a mean bone in his body." Yuri let out a sigh, not realizing she had been holding her breath in the first place. The last thing she wanted was to add more stress to her plate, especially during what is usually the best part of her year. They wrapped up their conversation after forty-five minutes and Yuri sat back on the sofa, Viola now sleeping snugly in her lap. She let out a deep sigh, relaxing into the cushions and turning the TV on. A smile on her face, Yuri felt a feeling of hope and relief that things were going to start getting better. She would continue the effort of maintaining positivity and her normal sense of calm. This vacation would bring her back to her meditation schedule. This vacation would be different, she could already tell.

Gshade by @ellcrze

Poses by @starrysimsie

If you would be so kind as to interact with this post I would be forever grateful! Some people are understandably not going to stop their busy schedules to read this novel of a chapter and that's okay! But if you could help spread my current sims story, Moving Mountains, but reblogging and/or sharing my Tumblr I would truly appreciate it. I am always happy to follow fellow simmers, simblr's, sims storytellers, custom content creators, mod creators, etc. And reblog many creator's posts on my second blog for more casual stuff separate from my stories @casualmissimformation

[senuassaga]

Guiding Allies and Shifting Voices in Senua’s Saga

Senua’s Saga: Hellblade II takes us deeper into Senua’s journey, but this time the story’s evolved to deliver an experience that Xbox gamers will want to buy Xbox games for. While she still wrestles with her haunted past, she’s learned to embrace The Darkness – her psychosis – as a part of herself without letting it hold her back. Her perspective is unique; she sees what others miss, feels what they can’t, and does what no one else can. The game kicks off in stormy seas aboard a slaver’s ship bound for an unknown land, but Senua’s no accidental passenger. She’s there to dismantle these slavers and save her people. Yet what awaits her isn’t just hellish battles, but a far darker horror – the twisted realities of human flaws. Symbolism runs deep in her actions, her purpose here, and what she fights for. This time, Senua isn’t alone in her struggle. She’s got allies who guide her, pull her from darkness, and keep her going – not just the ones in her head, though they have their own agendas. The voices in her mind have shifted tone too. In Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice, they often pushed her to retreat and expected failure. In Senua’s Saga, however, these voices try to uplift her, mixed with their doubts and the haunting memories of Dillion and her father.

Crafting Authenticity: Handmade Costumes and Props in Hellblade II

To get the full experience of Senua’s journey, you gotta use headphones for that 3D binaural sound — it's essential to immerse yourself in Senua’s thoughts and the dark vibe all around, making it clear why you should buy PS5 games. They used this in the first game too, to really amplify the experience. It brings her psychosis to life, making you feel like you’re hearing the voices and sounds yourself. Ninja Theory teamed up again with Professor Paul Fletcher from Cambridge University and people who’ve dealt with psychosis to make Senua’s perspective feel genuine and deep. I was literally on the edge of my seat, feeling like something was right behind me. The setting of Senua’s Saga is a total change from her time in Helheim. It’s set in Iceland, a stunning island country with breathtaking views captured using photogrammetry and digitization. The world bursts with color, bathed in sunlight across fields and mountains. Unreal Engine definitely played a huge role in bringing every tiny detail to life, down to the smallest specks and rocks, with top-notch physics. Even the characters’ outfits and props were handmade in the real world before being brought into the game, capturing every little nuance. The costumes reflect the characters who wear them, showing where they’re from and the lives they lead.

Immersive Journey: Senua's Saga Hellblade II Delivers Unforgettable Narrative

For those who’ve played the first game, Senua’s Saga will feel like déjà vu. It’s a classic case of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” The gameplay is almost identical to the original, with straightforward combat and interactions. The major change? Way less fighting compared to before. There’s still some enemy bashing, but this time, the focus is more on the story and how uniquely Senua perceives and engages with her world. I was stoked to see the lorestones back, diving deeper into Northmen mythology, plus uncovering hidden secrets that give advice or tell tales from Senua’s homeland. Ninja Theory’s small crew prides themselves on crafting deep, immersive stories. Their mission? “Craft life-changing art with game-changing tech,” and the Hellblade series nails that perfectly. Senua’s Saga took me on an emotional, powerful journey full of discovery, matching its predecessor in impact. Big shoutout to Ninja Theory and Xbox for letting us dive back into Senua’s story. I’ve been waiting for this forever, and it totally lives up to the hype of the first game. It’s not a long game, clocking in at 8-10 hours, even for completionists. Senua’s Saga: Hellblade II is a breathtaking storytelling experience that really puts you in her headspace. It’s even more focused on narrative this time around (which is a good thing!), diving deep into how Senua sees and interacts with her world. The whole journey, from start to finish, is something I won’t forget.

[existentialmagazine]

Review: myah’s debut single ‘hide’ showcases artistry that many strive for, a colourful indie-pop ladened experience alike no other

The up-comer myah has been finding herself with only success since her debut single ‘hide’, reaching over 2,000 monthly listeners on Spotify and accumulating much more as she continues to share stand-out new releases. Through works like ‘i’ll be your light’ and ‘everything’, she has continued to shine as her heartfelt words pour magic on a genre made all the more unique by her presence in it. But her musical beginnings last year continue to prove why she’s always been a star set to make an impact.

Through ‘hide’, myah set the stage beautifully for everything she has to give, transporting listeners on a bold indie-pop experience filled with colour, meaning and introspective reflection. That alone is clear right from pressing play too, immediately jumping into a bubbly verse filled with scattered electronic pops for beats that later combine with tumbling drums, an experience filled with feel-good youthful glee and that giddy high when you first confess your feelings to another. Everything about it feels a little bit Halsey-esque but with less of the dark and moody energy she brings, instead climbing into catchy, colourful admissions with myah’s own addictive indie-pop flourishes. The way every little detail slowly builds is mesmerising, captivating you through every dreamy backing vocal that slips away like an echo, all the while rich piano keys progressively ease their way into the soundscape shimmering in and out with their appearances. Pulling back for a pre-chorus that’s intimate and filled with just piano notes and myah’s vocals alone, ‘hide’ also reminds it’s not just made to be infectious and catchy, instead a journey made equal parts perfect for listening on loop and filled with plenty of emotion weaved in there too.

The chorus doesn’t try to be too much, continuing on the same wavelength as the verses more easy-going nature, but with a bit more of an uplifting and quick-paced feel to it. The lyrics hook you right too, grabbing every second of your attention as myah boasts out that ‘in your lies I saw myself hide.’ While the first few choruses remain on the simpler side, it all starts to make sense towards the end, erupting in an absolutely outrageous burst of flavour and gritty alternative angst. Intense drums, gnarly guitar strums and the most confident vocals from myah yet all come together for a moment so unapologetically loud you can’t tear yourself away - and that’s what makes the following paired-back bridge all the more powerful.

The lyricism of ‘hide’ feels just as conflicted in what it has to say, flowing back and forth between vibrant scenes that feel loved-up and rose-tinted, as well as lows that are tender and pained. Through lines like ‘stay the night, I know it’s always complicated’ myah admits the relationship she’s in is anything but easy, never quite knowing where she stands as their physical connection seems to be what her partner is chasing. Continuing ‘I lose myself’, it feels like this relationship is anything but healthy, a distraction from what’s truly needed. myah protagonist’s self confidence also seems to suffer as she sings ‘in my mind I know you’re on to something new’ , acknowledging that the one they want is clearly not exclusive to them, wandering on to whomever has caught their eye. The energy makes it feel completely playful though, light and airy while these admissions sting below, reminding that through the worst there are better days to be had and dances to make it feel easier to cope through.

Keep listening to ‘hide’ here, and don’t forget to listen to the rest of myah’s wonderful newer singles, as she only continues to make a storming impact on the music scene.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Graham Bishop

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[tomodachipersonalitycentral]

So, you typed Dorothy as an Easygoing Dreamer and Mordecai as an Independent Lone Wolf. I am curious how compatible they are.

Could you separate it into categories of category compatibility, personality compatibility, overall strengths, and overall weaknesses. Based on that can you give them a compatibility score?

You freaking bet I can! I'll say some basic things I think about the types along with adding in more specifics with these two characters in mind.

Category Compatibility

I believe Easygoing types actually tend to be very attracted to Independent types. This is because Easygoing types are open minded and empathetic, even sometimes to those who do not deserve it. Therefore, when they see Independent types that can be either closed off or ostracized, they feel the need to extend a welcoming hand (or paw, in this case).

However, I think when it comes to Independent types liking Easygoing types back, it can highly depend on how these traits show. In the best cases, Easygoing individuals can be gentle companions to more cagey Independent types, or have their own individual flair that Independent individuals enjoy. At worst, Easygoing types can follow the crowd too much for an Independent type, such as an Easygoing Dreamer having cliché ideas about love, or an Easygoing Buddy agreeing with their friends too much to keep the peace.

With Dorothy and Mordecai, Dorothy is definitely a gentle Easygoing type that makes Mordecai feel comfortable. I'd say her open minded and empathetic nature also makes him feel protective of her, not wanting that light to be snuffed out. He knows Dorothy doesn't want to push through his walls too fast either and respects his feelings.

Personality Compatibility

Easygoing Dreamers I imagine are very attracted to Lone Wolves. Why? Because Dreamers are idealist romantics, and Lone Wolves, dark, brooding, and mysterious often end up having a Dreamer's expectations or desires cast onto them. Sometimes their optimism is a good thing, seeing to the soft center of more cold figures, other times it causes them to be naïve, seeing a prince charming in someone when they're just a jerk.

Even when the Lone Wolf is secretly sweet, it can be hurtful when their Dreamer partners jump to conclusions about their character or push their version of "good" onto the Lone Wolf. Dreamers sometimes expect Lone Wolves to have a complete transformation from cold or a bit distant to absolute, loving sweethearts that just isn't in all of their natures.

However, Dorothy seems like too much of a pessimist for this to fully be a problem, and I can tell she wants Mordecai, as he is, to love her, not an ideal version of him. I think, overtime, as she and Mordecai grow trust in each other, Dorothy will be able to grow a healthy balance between what Dorothy thinks is behind Mordecai's mask out of desire or fear, and seeing Mordecai for who he actually is. I think they'd have understandable expectations for each other, Mordecai not expecting Dorothy to stop being emotional and soft either. Their conflict would come in other areas.

So, remember the point I made about Easygoing Dreamers having cliché expectations about romance? I feel Dorothy might fall into this, which would cause issues. Mordecai shows his love in non traditional ways, something Dorothy might misunderstand and see as uncaring. Meanwhile, Mordecai might feel pressured to be more traditional in his showcases of affection, which he doesn't understand.

Overall Strengths

Dorothy's idealistic views for others could help her uplift Mordecai and help him start looking at things in a more positive light.

Meanwhile, Mordecai could help give a more realistic viewpoint and encourage Dorothy to focus on herself as well.

They both have mostly realistic expectations of the other, and want to love them as they are rather than changing them.

Overall Weaknesses

Dorothy often having her head in the clouds might make it hard for Mordecai to connect with her at times. He doesn't really understand the appeal of fantasy escapism.

But, Mordecai being so grounded might make Dorothy struggle in turn. She might have a hard time connecting with some of the dry discussions Mordecai might enjoy having.

They both have different views about romance, what it looks like and how affection should be shown, which could cause issues in the future.

Compatibility Score

I'd say 70%-79%, or Matching-Outfits Time!

If these two can meet halfway, they may have something together.

It'd certainly be much higher over time, but, at the beginning, they'd really need to meet the other at their level, and have open and honest discussions about their expectations and needs.