#but ill have another snippet out today

[diamonddaze01]

69. "You know my name?" + chan omg im begging u or ill beat u to it and write it (lol stares at all my wips 💀)

call me by my name

Pairing: lc x f!reader | wc: 971 words prompt: "You know my name?" au: university au! | warnings: none a/n: HANEULLLLL thank u for the ask this was so cute and fun to write i hope you love it <33333

The lecture hall buzzed with the usual pre-class noise—pens tapping against desks, chairs creaking as students settled in, snippets of conversation floating from every direction. The air carried a faint hum of fluorescent lights, blending into the background chaos. You sat at your usual spot in the front row, pen poised and ready, eyes skimming the lecture notes you’d pulled up on your laptop.

Behind you, it was less preparation and more pandemonium.

“Seungkwan, what the fuck! Stop throwing shit at me!”

You didn’t have to look to know it was Soonyoung. His voice carried, loud and incredulous as always.

“That’s not throwing—it’s called handing,” Seungkwan shot back, his words dripping with mock seriousness. “Get some spatial awareness, idiot.”

The sound of a paper airplane slicing through the air followed, landing somewhere near your seat. You glanced down briefly at the crumpled attempt at aerodynamics before looking back at your notes.

“Is that supposed to be a plane or modern art?” another voice chimed in—Chan this time, laughter in his tone.

Turning your head slightly, you caught sight of the trio in their usual seats toward the back. Soonyoung had crossed his arms, glaring at the offending paper in Chan’s hand. Seungkwan was smirking triumphantly, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head.

“Give it here,” Chan said, snatching the airplane and inspecting it with exaggerated care. “Yeah, no. This isn’t a plane. This is, like… a bird that forgot how to fly.”

The paper flew again—this time courtesy of Chan—and barely made it past the second row before nose-diving onto the floor. The resulting laughter spread like wildfire across the room, even prompting a raised eyebrow from Professor Lee, who was just arriving.

“If the three of you could channel even half this energy into engineering,” the professor said, setting down his coffee with a thud, “you might actually pass this class.”

A round of chuckles rippled through the room as Chan held up his hands in mock surrender. “We’ll consider it!”

You shook your head, letting the familiar chaos wash over you. It had been like this all semester—Chan, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung acting as the unofficial class entertainment. Their antics had a way of filling the space, loud enough to distract but not enough to pull you from your work.

Professor Lee called the class to order, his voice steady as he launched into announcements. You settled in, fingers flying over your keyboard as you took notes.

Until he dropped the bomb.

“Alright, folks, listen up,” Professor Lee announced, raising his voice over the chatter. “Big news today—it’s time to kick off your group projects.”

Groans and murmurs spread through the room like wildfire. People immediately started swiveling in their seats, calling out to friends to lock in their groups before anyone got left behind.

You stayed put, as you always did. You’d learned from experience—being the quiet one meant waiting out the storm. Once the dust settled, you’d deal with whatever scraps of a team were left.

“The project is worth thirty percent of your grade,” Professor Lee continued, adjusting his glasses. “So choose wisely.”

“Thirty percent?” someone whispered behind you.

“Yeah, that’s fucked,” another voice muttered.

You ignored them, jotting down the project details from the board. If no one picked you, you’d just work alone—it wasn’t ideal, but you’d survive. Your eyes flicked back to your laptop, but before you could even finish writing down the assignment details, a shadow fell over your desk. You blinked up, startled, only to see Chan grinning down at you, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket.

“Uh, hi?” you said cautiously.

“Wanna be in a group with me and my friends?” He jerked his thumb toward Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who were mid-wrestle over a pencil in the back corner of the room.

Your pen froze mid-word. “You… know my name?”

Chan tilted his head like you’d just asked him if the sky was blue. “Uh, yeah? Considering you’re the one who ruins the curve every time… yes, I know your name.”

Oh.

“But also,” he continued, “you clearly know what you’re doing, and we’d be stupid not to team up with you.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting for a moment. “Okay.”

His grin widened, and he gestured for you to follow him.

By the time you reached Seungkwan and Soonyoung, they’d paused their argument and were now watching you with matching mischievous smirks.

“So,” Seungkwan said, leaning closer to Chan, “you actually got her to join us, huh?”

“Guess today’s my lucky day,” Chan muttered, side-eyeing him.

Soonyoung jabbed Seungkwan in the ribs, grinning like an idiot. “Told you he wouldn’t chicken out.”

“Shut up,” Chan hissed, his ears already pink.

But Seungkwan wasn’t done. “You didn’t have to use the whole ‘you ruin the curve’ thing. You could’ve just said, ‘Hey, I think you’re super smart and pretty, and I totally have a crush on you.’”

Chan’s eyes widened as if someone had just slapped him with a textbook. “What the fuck—”

“Or,” Soonyoung added, tapping his chin theatrically, “you could’ve been, like, ‘I sit two rows behind you every day because your hair smells like strawberries.’”

“I do not—”

Seungkwan gasped, fake-shocked. “Oh my God, you’ve smelled her hair?”

Chan groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I hate both of you.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, covering your mouth as the trio dissolved into chaos.

“Don’t listen to them,” Chan said quickly, turning back to you with an apologetic look. “They’re dumbasses, but I promise we’ll actually get work done. Eventually.”

You raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “As long as no one brings paper airplanes to the final presentation.”

“See?” Soonyoung crowed. “She’s funny too. You’re screwed, Chan.”

Chan didn’t answer, but the flush creeping up his neck said more than enough.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[loveforeren]

୨⎯ If we only had more time⎯୧

Pairing: Eren Yeager x Sick!Reader

Synopsis: You and Eren had been together since your sophomore year of high school. You guys were now in your sophomore year of college when you got devastating news. You were sick, and not just any type of illness. You didn't have long to live. They told you that they don't know what the illness is or how to treat it. So all you can do is wait for the day you die. There's only one problem you have approximately 2 months lefts and you've been avoiding Eren due to it. You haven't told him, and you were being put in the hospital..very soon.

Content Warning: Sick Reader, Angst, Small Argument, Unknown Illness, Sad Ending.

A/N: I wrote this because I was bored...I don't write angst often loves. I'll be posting a either longish Kokushibo fanfic or another Miguel snippet soon. Also, yall should listen to Promise By Laufey.

You look out the window to see Eren's car pull up in front of your small townhouse. Your body shakes at the thought of telling him. You watch as he walks to the door and knocks. You take a deep breath before slowly creaking open the door.

It's been months since you got the devastating news. The news you weren't going to live much longer. They don't know what the illness is or how to cure it. The only thing they know is it's causing your body to break down and destroy itself at a rapid pace. They're trying every medication they can think of and nothing works. When you told your parents they broke down in tears begging the doctors to help their child. When you told your friends they cried for hours and promised to make the most of the time you had left. There was one person you didn't tell, Eren, your boyfriend. You couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't bare to tell him, but you couldn't put it off any longer. You were being put into the hospital sometime this week or next and you couldn't put off telling him any longer. You knew he was worried because, for the past few weeks, you haven't been around him as often. You couldn't the pain your body was in was too much to bare. You had to tell him today. You had no choice.

"Hey Ma." He said with a grin.

His arms wrapped around you and he buried his face into your neck.

"H-hey Eren." You stumble over your words. Your body shakes and your chest starts to hurt slightly.

"What's wrong? You're shaking." Eren points out as you tried to calm yourself

You pull him over to the couch sit him down and sit next to him. Your heart was beating out your chest.

"Eren...I need to tell you something." You murmured loud enough for him to hear.

He looks at you with his beautiful green eyes piercing you. Your chest started to hurt more and more by every passing second.

"So..I-.." Your words get caught on your throat.

Eren notices this and puts his hand on your thigh.

"Ma, calm down. Take your time." He said.

You took a few deep breaths and started bouncing your leg to calm yourself.

"A few months ago, I went to the doctor for a small little check-up. You know I was in pain for some reason." You say trying to keep your tears in.

Eren nods, and you can already tell he's getting anxious by the way your acting.

"They didn't know the cause of my pain, so they ran a few tests...They made a discovery. My body has been destroying itself slowly..and-" you words get caught in your throat but you force yourself to continue.

"They said I don't have much longer to live.." you say quietly looking away from Eren.

"Baby. What do you mean you don't have much longer to live? You're sick? Why didn't you tell me this?" Eren asked question after question.

You look back at him and see his beautiful green eyes starting to flood with tears. His hair became disheveled from him raked his hands through it trying to calm himself.

"I..couldn't tell you." You said now tearing up too.

"Why not!" His voice boomed through the small place you were in. His tears finally escaped and ran down his face rapidly.

"Because I was fucking scared Eren! How can I tell the man I love I was going to die? I didn't know how and I didn't when to tell you." Your voice raises as you start to cry too.

"Y/N you're fucking dying! I deserve to know the love of my life is dying!" His voice cracked.

"I know. I know I'm sorry Eren I didn't know how to tell you." You rasped out.

"I-isn't there any medicine you can take?" Eren stumbled over his words.

You watch Eren's face scrunch up. You thought he was mad at you until he pulled you into a tight hug. His arms snaking around you. His head on your shoulder.

"We've tried everything..nothing is working." You say as tears pour down your face.

"I don't wanna lose you. I can't lose you." He cried.

You cried just as much as your body ached slightly but you didn't even care at this point.

"I'm sorry Eren. I'm so sorry." Your voice cracked.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It's been a few days since you told Eren. Ever since then, Eren stuck to your hip. Going to every appointment, sleeping over at your house, going with you to the store. Wherever you were Eren was bound to be. That was until the doctors advised you to stay in the hospital full-time.

"Eren I have to go the doctors said I should stay in the hospital." You said as he hugged you tightly.

"I know...I just-...just let me hug for a few more minutes and I'll drop you off there." He rasped out trying to not cry.

He stayed there hugging you tightly for a few more minutes then let go of you. His beautiful green eyes filled with sadness.

"I'll drop you off now.." he said looking down his fist clenching slightly to stop himself from crying.

The drive there was silent besides your stuff the doctor said you could bring rattling around in the back of the car. Eren's hand stayed on your thigh the entire time. You could feel whenever he was getting extremely anxious because his grip on the thigh would strengthen.

When you guys finally made it there you watched as Eren parked the car and then rested his head on the steering wheel.

"Eren.." you say quietly.

It seems like he's in a trance because he didn't hear him.

"Eren." You say again.

His head snaps up to look at him and you see his eyes filled with tears again. His eyes were red as tears spilled out.

"I'm sorry. I'm trying to calm down before we go in there." He says.

Your heart was breaking. You hated seeing him like this because of you. You hated that you were going to leave him so soon.

Your hand went up to his cheek, and he nuzzled his face into your hand. His lips kissed your hand gently. As he took a few deep breaths to pull himself together.

"I love you...I love you so much Y/N" He said his voice laced with worry.

"I love you too." You kiss him gently as he tries to calm himself.

It's been a few weeks since you've been in the hospital, and Eren was there every single day. He only went 3 places his house, school, and the hospital. You could see the stress eating away at him. Especially when you have coughing fits, or your body would randomly aches for hours. You didn't want to tell him just how painful it was. If you had to explain the pain in one word it would be excruciating, absolutely excruciating. You couldn't tell him that though worrying him would only cause you more stress. Today the doctor was going to ask you about the pain again, usually, Eren is at school. This time he was here and you knew you couldn't lie. The doctor has caught you in your lies at least 4 times. There was no use in trying to lie.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"So Miss Y/N, How has your body been feeling lately?" The doctor asks with a clipboard in their hand.

"Ah...Doctor Hange...My body..uhm.." you try to tell the doctor but Eren's presence was scaring you. You didn't want him to worry.

"It hurts a lot when I breathe in the left side of my chest, my legs ache if I stand for too long, my head hurts a lot, and...I've been experiencing dizzy spells. If I'm being honest...my whole body hurts..ears are constantly pounding.." you say quietly.

You watch as Eren's face turns into a sad frown and his hands fidget together.

"I see...I'll come back to you after I look at the test that we ran the other day," Hange said walking out quietly.

Eren quietly scrambled over to you and laid on your lap. Your hand strokes his head as he shakes.

"Ma, I..I love you.." he whispered.

"I love you too 'Ren" You smile bitterly.

He lays on your lap for about 10 minutes before Hange came back in trying to hide their grim expression.

"Miss Y/N I would like to speak to you privately." They said.

Eren looked at you about the protest but you sighed.

"Eren..go please you can come back in once we are done."

︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Doctor Hange told you the most devastating news you could hear. Your body seemed to be deteriorating even faster than before. Your pain was only going to get worse and worse. They said there was some more medicine you could try but it wasn't guaranteed to work. They also quietly stated you could get euthanized but they were strongly against it. They told you that they didn't want you to stress and to tell them what you wanted when you were ready. You quietly stated that you wanted the pain to end early, and that if that was the only way then so be it.

After Doctor Hange was done, Eren walked back in frantically. His eyes shoot to your very troubled expression. As of that moment, he didn't know that you had chosen to end your life. You had to break the news to him, and you hated that.

"Hi, Eren." You say with a say sad smile.

He quickly scrambles by your side and holds your hand.

"So...I was talking with the doctor, and they said I had two options.." you stated eyes looking down to avoid his sad expression.

You explain them and watch as his face darkens. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was either when you were in bad condition to basically pull the plug or to let you suffer. Both options were terrible.

"There's...nothing else we can do..?" He asks quietly gripping your hand.

"No...I'm sorry.." Hange said.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Days have passed and like Hange said you've only got worse. You lost so much weight, you were pale, your eyes could barely stay open, you threw up everything you ate and drank, and your breathing was labored. Eren stayed through it all. But unfortunately, it was the time your vitals weren't looking good, and the doctors could tell.

All of your friends and family were there to say their last goodbyes to you. It was bittersweet they knew you'd get peace but they'd also lose you. Eren stayed in the room watching from a distance with a grim expression. He wanted to cry but he simply couldn't as of now. His body wouldn't allow it. Maybe it was saving up for when you departed. Or maybe it was because he cried so much that he simply couldn't anymore.

After all your family and friends left, Eren came to you holding your hand gently. You smiled sadly. He lay there in a comfortable silence until he felt you fell asleep. He soon after followed suit. The exhaustion taking over.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Eren~" you giggled.

Eren turned to see you smiling brightly and hugged you tightly.

"Baby, please don't go.." Eren begged.

You smile softly and kiss all over his face gently. Each kiss you whispered something you loved about him.

"I'll never truly leave you, my love." You said sweetly.

You were shining so brightly like when you guys were in high school. He knew this was goodbye. You turn to hear someone calling you and smile. You began to walk away fading in the distance as Eren chased you.

"Y/N!" He screamed stumbling to the ground.

Eren jolted from his sleep and saw you with a sweet smile on your sickly face. He put his hand on your face you felt cold. His body froze shockingly still.

"Baby?" He said his throat beginning to tighten

"Nurse!" He screamed so loud that entire side of hospital probably heard.

"No, no, no please!" He cried

You died with the illness finally staking its claim on your life. Eren never truly got over your death. How could he? Still, that dream gave him some comfort.

[daryaplesen11]

Where can I read about your oc?! I need more... I need a sequel to this story

This is a snippet from a roleplaying scenario, or rather, a character's diary entry. I haven't posted it anywhere, as I'm not an experienced roleplayer or writer.

Briefly, about the character:

Name: Hilda Kane Gender: Female Age: 28 Occupation: Lighthouse keeper (Assistant to her uncle from age 16 to 20; sole keeper since then)

My artwork with Hilda and a timeline of the character's changes after the events described in the diary and arrival on the mainland:

Here are all of Hilda's diary entries for this episode. Read at your own risk. I am not a writer and English is not my first language.

TW: Alcohol, starvation, isolation, mention of cannibalism for survival, mental illness, unreliable narrator.

***

The winter is particularly cold this year; it seems to be the coldest I've experienced here, maybe even in my whole life.

The delivery is two months delayed. The reason is unknown, and there's been no communication. I'm beginning to think we've been forgotten or abandoned.

So far, I have enough canned meat to feed Brownie (dog’s name). I feel almost no hunger myself; I have to literally force down a couple of spoonfuls of oatmeal porridge, which is more like kissel. Or maybe I'm convincing myself I'm not hungry.

***

I woke up to a strange noise from the backyard. It was hard to identify the source, but it sounded unusual—definitely not "just a gust of wind." I quickly got out of bed and grabbed the shotgun I keep nearby in case of emergency.

The house was dark, and there was no point in lighting the kerosene lamp. It wouldn't help much in this weather anyway.

When I reached the back door, I heard the noise more clearly: footsteps, the crunch of snow under heavy feet.  Pushing open the door, I stepped outside.

The wind whipped my face, and the snow blinded me. I tried to see through the whiteout, but I couldn't make anything out. I took a few steps forward when I suddenly noticed a dark figure approaching.

I raised my shotgun and pointed it at the silhouette. It stopped. It looked like a bear.  I should have remembered then...

there are no bears on this island.

As I fired, I braced myself for the deafening roar of a wounded animal or, if I missed, to accept death. But what I certainly wasn't prepared for was a human scream.

***

The shot took him in the neck, grazing the carotid artery.

I don't know how long I spent trying to shove his soul back into his body through the wound. I should have eased his suffering, let him die peacefully.

***

I wanted to believe it was a dream, but the man's body and the smell of blood quickly brought me back to reality.

***

It's a good thing I won't have to live with the guilt of killing a man for long. I'd hoped the night visitor would be a jackal, at the very least, a bear at most.

Yes, predator meat is risky to eat, but it's still meat.  And that's at least another week to wait for rescue.

***

Butchering the meat took far longer than usual. Besides the physical exhaustion, I had to take breaks, drowning my conscience in alcohol to steady my trembling hands. 

I'm doing this to survive. But I'm not sure I want to live after this

***

Today, I finished dismembering the body. It's unrecognizable now – just bones, a bucket of liver, and a freezer full of meat. The severed head is in the freezer as well, in a black bag. I lack the strength to even look at that man's face.

***

The stomach aches have subsided, but I still can't sleep. Every time I drift off, I hear screaming.  Every night, I hear curses directed at me, screams seemingly emanating from the freezer.

***

I can't remember the last time I slept for an hour. Five or six days ago?  I can't ignore the screams of the man I killed any longer. I guess I'll have to confront him and hear what he thinks about me…

***

Howard is incredibly unstable. He'll try to calm me down, saying it wasn't my fault and I did the right thing. Then he'll scream and curse, calling me a "monster" and a "disgusting creature."  If he had the use of his limbs, I think he would have hit, maybe even killed me.

***

Howard started yelling hysterically and cursing again. When he calmed down, he said something utterly insane:

"I want to see if you have a heart.

I want to see your conscience consume you.

I want to see you destroy your life.

I want to see you rot from the inside out.

I want to witness it with my own eyes.

I want my eyes to be with you always."

***

I've heard about the Mongolian national dish, supposedly "boiled lamb's eyes."

It sounds like a strange, ancient tradition, and certainly "exotic" for tourists.  But I've never had any desire to try it.  Much less swallow human eyes. Raw.  Howard, however, promised that if I did, he would leave me alone.  He wanted to watch from the inside as time and disease destroyed my body, to see and revel in my suffering.

***

Chewing on an eye is impossible. It simply slips down your throat like a slug or a jellyfish—a jellyfish with the smell and taste of rotting flesh and blood.

I wanted to spit it out, but the eye had already slid down my esophagus and into my stomach. I deeply regretted listening to Howard. It was unbearable. I was ready to rip my belly open to get it out.  Bending over the sink, I tried to vomit, but the strain caused my esophagus to spasm, and the eye became lodged in my throat. After several attempts to cough it up, I felt like I was suffocating.  Praying for a quick death, I continued to cough and writhe in pain, no longer hoping for, or wanting, survival.

But God, it seems, was not merciful. I managed to dislodge the rotting flesh from my esophagus and breathe again.

When I regained consciousness, I saw the eye on the floor, seemingly looking around the room fearfully, then at me, its pupil narrowed to a tiny dot.

I don't remember the events that followed.  Suffocation or sleep deprivation likely caused me to pass out.

***

A couple of days ago, they brought in supplies. Thank goodness those idiots from the mainland brought a paramedic.  However, they apparently only thought they'd need him for a death certificate.

Fortunately, the paramedic had sedatives and painkillers.

All that remained of "Howard" were a few frozen pieces of meat in the freezer and cremated remains. I'll bury him in the spring, under a flowering tree. I wish I knew his real name.

[darkmagicmirror]

The Dark Magic Symbol and Alchemy

I've been wanting to make this post since before S5 and never got around to it, and I decided hey, might as well try to get it out before S6, at least. SO here it is. I know S6 came out today, but I haven't seen it yet, so shh, this still counts.

So in a Reddit AMA back in 2020, Aaron and Justin answered a question confirming that they drew inspiration for the dark magic symbol from the Rod of Asclepius and the Caduceus.

Just because of Tumblr image limits, I put the screenshot and symbols (linked in the comment) in the same picture, but you can follow the link to the AMA comment and look at the image there if you need a bigger version.

SO I got curious and started looking up some more info...

Here are just the first couple paragraphs of the Wikipedia pages for the Caduceus and Rod of Asclepius.

So at first glance, just like the comment in the original question says, the Caduceus is associated mostly with Hermes, and the Rod of Asclepius is associated with health care and medicine.

But a little further down the Wikipedia page, we get:

Although the Rod of Asclepius, which has only one snake and no wings, is the traditional and more widely used symbol of medicine, the Caduceus is sometimes used by healthcare organizations.

And it turns out that there's an entire Wikipedia page dedicated to the Caduceus as a symbol of medicine. So, already, upon finding this, I found it fascinating that the dark magic symbol is inspired by not just one, but two symbols seen as medical symbols.

Onto the article focusing on the Caduceus as a symbol of medicine, I go on to find this:

I have to come back to the Quicksilver thing, but first off, the being a symbol of alchemy is interesting to me. (Partially because I definitely think of Fullmetal Alchemist and the whole equivalent exchange concept there and the questions about whether people should be messing with life and death and how everything has a price -- all pretty relevant to TDP, but I digress.)

I looked at the article linked in footnote 16, which is titled The earliest medical use of the caduceus, and I found this fascinating image!

Most importantly, this has a single snake with two heads. Which sounds familiar!

I do think it's worth noting that the very first time an example of dark magic is discussed on screen, it's with the discussion of the two-headed snake, being held by Viren's staff. The spell isn't actually done, obviously, but it's the first impression we get of dark magic in the series!

Also I just find it interesting that the article mentions that:

Hermes had some medical roles in that he did assist in conducting the dead to the underworld and also received some credit for relieving plagues and epidemics in Asia Minor.

Another article linked on Wikipedia, called Snake and staff symbolism in healing, brings up the same point, saying:

The caduceus was indeed a magical wand, a gift from Apollo which protected Hermes and enabled him to guide departed souls along unknown pathways to the Underworld, and to awaken the sleeping. The latter aspect was sometimes associated with powers of resurrection — of awakening the dead, and also of curing the severely ill (Schouten 1967:119; Van Rooyen 1982:731-5).

So I just think it's interesting that it all ties into dark magic very well, especially considering that Claudia uses dark magic to resurrect Viren, and dark magic has been shown to be used for healing purposes (such as healing Soren -- both before and during show-canon).

The last mentioned article also goes on to mention the quicksilver thing, so I just wanted to say that I also find that particular point interesting considering that many people theorize that the different types of primal magic may have one underlying magical source that powers all of them, which to me reminds me of quicksilver being considered the basis of all matter.

But wait! There's more!

When I looked at the Wikipedia page for Alchemy, I found this interesting snippet:

An important example of alchemy's roots in Greek philosophy, originated by Empedocles and developed by Aristotle, was that all things in the universe were formed from only four elements: earth, air, water, and fire. According to Aristotle, each element had a sphere to which it belonged and to which it would return if left undisturbed.

This especially reminds me of the primal sources. Also spheres? Really? Funny how the primal stones are shaped that way,

The beginning part of the Wikipedia article also mentions how one of alchemy's aims was to create panaceas to cure diseases, and also that it played a role in the development of chemistry and medicine, which is fascinating!

And then I did decide to look at the Rod of Asclepius page as well, and it talks about how the snake and rod/staff were originally separate symbols.

Both the Oxford Illustrated Companion to Medicine and The New Medicine and the Old Ethics (links are to Google Books) talk about the snake/serpent as symbols of renewal/restoration of health because of how snakes shed their skin. The latter also has this snippet, which I think makes snakes sound like a great dark magic symbol as well:

Back on the Wikipedia page, it also says:

The ambiguity of the serpent as a symbol, and the contradictions it is thought to represent, reflect the ambiguity of the use of drugs,[8] which can help or harm, as reflected in the meaning of the term pharmakon, which meant "drug", "medicine", and "poison" in ancient Greek.[11] However the word may become less ambiguous when "medicine" is understood as something that heals the one taking it because it poisons that which afflicts it, meaning medicine is designed to kill or drive away something and any healing happens as a result of that thing being gone, not as a direct effect of "medicine".

I looked at the source A History of Medicine as well, and this was where it talked about pharmakon:

So it literally talks about magic there, which is really interesting to me.

Anyway!

TL;DR: All that to say that while the dark magic symbol obviously has influence from the caduceus and Rod of Asclepius, I think that the concept of dark magic in general also draws some inspiration from the meaning/history behind both symbols, especially with regards to the connection to alchemy, two-headed snake, and also the connection to healing/medicine.

Which all just contributes to my opinion that I hope the canon universe in the series doesn't eliminate dark magic use in the end but instead puts limitations on dark magic use so it can still be used for the healing purposes as well. And if alchemy ended up contributing to medicine, then... who knows?

... also that's without even getting into how the series refers to Sir Sparklepuff as a homonculus, which:

And the page goes on to mention the "Arcanum of human blood" so... yeah.

Lots to think about!

[shootingstarpilot]

uhhhh hi I think these snippets about Cody undergoing an early reconditioning and ALSO of him quietly helping Needle by deleting the same from his record (possibly w/o Needle ever KNOWING?! I am tearing down the wallpaper etc). This is driving me INSANE. it's living rent free.

all that is to say– wondering how many people ever know about it then. his batch, sure, but like. Helix? as the CMO? in a medical sense I feel... I feel he'd have to know? Imagining all the things right now. Mutual understanding. Conversations that dance around the topic but still manage to spell the shape of it out to those who know what they're looking for because there's no avoiding that.

god. so ill abt this, I adore your work SO much 🧡

okay listen i was sitting on this for a bit and then i FINALLY got to do a hike today and while i was walking i stopped in the middle of the path because what if needle does the same for cody?

like. okay. bear with me. helix is trying to figure out why the hell his general's file is redacted to hell and back. he tasks needle with going through the rest of the personnel files for any issues that might need further attention. neither of them are expecting anything- issues that needed further attention didn't usually-

well.

anyway, needle's a good medic and understands the necessity for thorough documentation, so he's going through these files only to stop short when he pulls up the commander's and sees that same little status indicator.

he refreshes the page. maybe it's a lag. maybe that field accidentally subbed in a result from another trooper.

three refreshes later, he stops.

he doesn't give himself time to think about it. he just- deletes it. wipes away the little status tag and everything it signifies, and then he puts his head between his knees and kicks at the uncomfortable simmering in his chest until it dulls enough that he can ignore it.

(he makes sure to take cody's case whenever he comes into the medbay, though. especially if there's a head injury. he knows there can be scarring.)

i just. what if. @dragonsanddandelions mentioned "small gods and small kindnesses" and now i simply CANNOT COPE. small kindnesses, unknowingly traded. small kindnesses SURVIVING. OW.

[scyllas-revenge]

Hope you're doing OK Scylla :D Was thinking about BLCI today (as you do) and no pressure on the next chapter at all but do you have any snippets to share? No worries if not! Also I think I saw that you love Persuasion? *ignores existence of the 2022 version!!!* Thought I'd share that there is a recent Eomer/OFC fic being adapted from Persuasion and put it on your radar if you hadn't seen it...its off to a great start :D

pHORSEuasion: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55817617/chapters/147845338

XOXO

Thanks for the ask! And omg yes Persuasion is THE yearning book. The Netflix version took ten years off my life. Luckily we have the 90s one and the 2007 one to enjoy instead.

Given my love of Persuasion, and Eomer, and puns, I definitely have that fic on my radar! I'm hoping I'll have time to start it in the next week or two!

As far as BLCI goes, I've been making progress! Now I just have to work out whether what I thought was going to be one chapter should be divided into two or three (it's really gotten away from me lol).

But you asked for snippets! And I shall deliver! Snippets abound!!

Or at least, one big snippet abounds!

Probably way too long to be a snippet, but I'm excited to post the damn thing. Hopefully it'll be another two weeks or so before Ch. 34 is done!

Ch. 34 snippet <3

“I should call you Lord Boromir, shouldn’t I?”

He paused, looking startled at the thought. “No. I would not wish that.”

“But I should, shouldn’t I? Everyone else does—hell, the guards outside the gate called you Steward-Prince—”

“You have long been aware of my station and my family, that I command Gondor’s armies and am the Steward’s heir besides.”

“Yes, but it’s different being here, seeing you like this,” I protested. “I probably should’ve been addressing you differently this whole time, my lord—”

Anger flashed across his face. “Do not address me so! Valar, such words sit ill on your lips.”

His eyes had fallen intently to my lips as he spoke, and I dropped my gaze to my boots, flustered. “It’s not like I want to be so formal either, but what will your people think?” I asked. I wasn’t even sure what they’d think, exactly, but it couldn’t be good. “What will your father think?”

Boromir pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed an impatient sigh. “Yes, you speak truly. It would be—selfish of me, to demand such impropriety of you.”

“I don’t need to call you Lord when we’re alone. Just—just in public.”

He smiled joylessly and tilted his head up to the sky. “A more diplomatic concession I cannot hope to make, it seems.”

“And how should I address your father? Does a steward warrant a higher title than lord?”

“No, for the line of stewards is not royalty. Lord or Lord Steward shall suffice, though I must warn you that such formalities will hardly be optional with my father.”

That, at least, was obvious, but I supposed after my disastrous interactions with Theoden, he’d felt the need to remind me.

“I should also warn you—” He hesitated. “Speak naught but the truth to my father.”

“I was hardly planning on lying to him,” I protested, more than a little offended now.

Boromir raised his hands placatingly. “Of course not. I only wished to caution you, for he will know at once if you do otherwise. He has a—an affinity for such things.”

“An affinity for what, reading minds?” I was joking, but Boromir only nodded gravely. “You can’t be serious,” I exclaimed.

“Both my father and brother share a talent for gleaning men’s thoughts. It can be an…overwhelming experience, my soldiers have told me.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

[simp-ly-writes]

Personal Hell (pt.9) Snippet

Pairing: (Hazbin Hotel) Lucifer Morningstar x demon overlord!Reader

A/N: a bit of what is to come, thank you all for waiting so patiently- really appreciate it!! School is fighting with me but only a bit longer to go! I'll try and have the complete chapter out as soon as I can. :)

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Clapping your hands together, hundreds of fireflies hurry themselves towards the ceiling- illuminating the space as you spin with a satisfied hum. Mahogany shelves line behind a grand desk that sits on a taller platform than your own. The chair demands a demanding presence without a body filling its seat, memories of you refusing to look up towards this very desk has you looking back over your shoulder as Lucifer leans against the doorframe with a lazy smile across his face. “Sometime it has been since I have been in this room…” he sarcastically comments, watching as a spider crawls its way across the floor and into a windowsill filled with cobwebs as your cringe in thought to all the eyes of the creature staring back at you. 

Shaking your head, disrupting a shiver, you make your way up to the desk, leaning on its surface as your hands trail over the various letters you had sent capturing your adventures and battles before taking up a full-time position at the palace. You hum out, picking up a letter with dried black blood, flipping it over and ushering out the note as it reads, “Best of Mornings, Queen Lilith and Company. I write to you today as an update from the front lines of outer rings. The civil war is soon to be under control once again as discussions have progressed with the deadly sins, I report that from now on I will no longer be talking to Lust after a… personal encounter. Flipping the page, there is a list of necessary equipment to be sent towards the western front that I will be maintaining come morning. To address your earlier concerns, I have endured minor injuries in the fight yet I cannot speak for the hundreds of my fellow brothers and sisters that have become ill in recent time- I cannot urge enough for supplies to come at the earliest moment. Sincerely, General Peacekeeper: your entrusted confidant, historian, and ally.” 

Your finger glides over your panicked writing, you remember writing this note while swords and bullets crashed over your head while knee deep in the trenches. Dead-man's land was littered with corpses, the scent vile- burning your nose with its decay as you readied the line for yet another charge as you powered up your shadows in the turning of nightfall. You fail to notice as Lucifer has taken a seat at his desk, his legs spread as he pats his thigh, motioning for you to take a seat as you both continue reading through yet another distant lifetime. 

One of his warm palms rests on your thigh, sneaking its way upwards as your breath hitches, swinging yourself to point him a glare. You both freeze as the door slams open and a dozen staff members present themselves to you, wide-eyed and seemingly in a frenzy. Taking a stand quickly, you jump down the stairs and listen to the hurried sentences they all speak out at once- barley picking up any of the words except for three that continue to get repeated, “Charlie, Speech, War.” 

Shit. You whisper underneath your breath, your battle armor settling against your skin in an instant, clashing against your spear as you swing it to rest on your back. Lucifer stumbles to a stand, running around the desk yet you fall to the floor and into the cracks between the wood in a blink, travelling through the shadows towards the Hotel as the King grips out his hair- cursing himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @tati-the-fangirl @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @amarokofficial @cynjinx0 @legacyreadsfics @repentant-repeller @ly-doodels

[mysticstarlightduck]

Seven Sentences Sunday! Writing Share Tag! <3

Thanks for the tag, @rickie-the-storyteller!!!! I know this is a 7 Sentence Tag but I am too lazy so I'm gonna treat it as a Writing Share tag lmao

I'll go with a snippet from Arrows of Nightfall for this one (:

Snow crunched underneath Asrius' worn out, heavy fur-lined boots, as he trudged through the frozen trail. The ground was covered in thick blankets of white, frost crawling up the treetrunks and tinging everything around him with cold. The trees were barren, their ashen branches creaking in the howling wind, their fallen leaves long since turned to wet mulch under the thick snow.

The familiar smell of burning wood from scattered campires was the only welcome he had as he neared the war camp once more. It would've been comforting, if it wasn't followed by the faint smell of roasted venison and the cheers of the older soldiers sharing their vast, filling portions in the main tent. None of that feast would ever make its way to him, or to his cousin.

That, the Commander had made damn well sure of.

All that Asrius had to keep him and Eirian from starving in these frozen wastes were small, dwindling stashes of dry meat and stale old bread, and whatever small critter - usually a hare or a phesant, though now, at this point in the winter, where the forests had turned into a deserted death trap, he wasn't above hunting for rats - he could manage to kill and smuggle into camp without being spotted by his so-called comrades. If he was lucky.

Today, he wasn't lucky.

His hunting escapade today had left him with nothing more than weary, frost-bitten bones and empty hands, his entire body protesting the unwanted effort after the grueling scouting missions the Commander had not-so-generously burdened him with. Nothing. He'd gotten nothing. And he knew what awaited him in their small, shared tent in the far edge of camp - Eirian, his cousin, barely eleven winters of age, and their tiny stash of supplies hidden under an old pack. Today it wouldn't be enough for half a meal for even one of them, let alone them both.

He'd have to take a risk. To steal from the more favored soldiers, the ones gathering around the main table. The ones who loved to beat him up, and whose cruel laughter seemed to be the backdrop of his life nowadays. He'd have to try. Maybe he could swipe a pastry or two from the feast the others shared, sneak it away under his cloak. He hoped they were drunken enough that such an act would go unnoticed.

Asrius tugged at his cloak so it wrapped more tightly around his shoulders, as if the rough hewn cloth could offer something akin to warmth in this weather, with the wind slashing at his skin like icy daggers. Each step he took closer to the main tent felt like a battle against his own instincts screaming at him to just stop. But he couldn't afford to stop. If he did, he and Eirian would be soon to become like those corpses that seemed to litter the edge of the roads, gaunt husks reaped by illness and hunger, drained of life.

He refused to let that be their fate.

My Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3,

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri,

@lyutenw @finickyfelix

@thecomfywriter, @the-letterbox-archives, @differentnighttale @wyked-ao3

@thelovelymachinery @an-indecisive-nerd

@zinabug-writes @dahliaontherun

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[xysidhequeen]

Binge read your Red Knight AU.

I’m glad Jason found new family who loves him unconditionally.

Anon sending healing vibes to your chronic illness ✨✨

I accept the healing vibes. Keep them coming, I barely had a migraine today so they did something.

Binge reading is so fun. It's basically the only reading I do myself. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Speaking of Jason's found family, here's a snippet from Part 16! I'm working on that already while my beta goes over 15.

~~~~~☆☆☆☆☆~~~~~

Sam let out a screech that was more static than anything else. Danny leaned carefully out of clawing range.

Jason stared at his king and then dropped his head into his hands.

"Why are you like this?' Jason murmured, feeling Tucker place a consoling hand on his shoulder.

Sam took a deep breath in and then launched into another tirade, her volume growing. Jason just left her to it. He was too busy trying to figure out how he was supposed to keep his dumbass king from fully dying when he was so set in making stupid fucking decisions.

What even was his afterlife.

~~~~~~~☆☆☆☆☆~~~~~~~

Only two people are actually pleased with Danny's field trip he takes in part 15. One of those people is Danny, and the other is introduced in part 15. It was really hard to find a good snippet that didn't spoil part 15 too much in this as I only have 1.4k for part 16 so far. But more is being written! I'm really hoping Tim gets to pop in (I need to get all the important characters introduced before Plot comes in. Which I have, I swear. Or. Well. I have a vague vibe that I'm calling plot)

[safelycapricious]

Looking for a little external motivation atm, so let me talk about some fics I'm working on and if one sounds good to me then let me know and hopefully I'll get off my ass. Just going to list some and give a random snippet I suppose.

Bucktommy Amnesia:

“Evan, baby, can you open your eyes for me?” someone asks at his side, and he realizes his hand is being held. The voice doesn’t register immediately, but he once didn’t recognize Maddie’s voice when he woke up, so that’s less alarming than it could be.

Bucktommy Old Guard:

The year is 1863 and it’s the first time Evan has ever felt like he has a real family, people who actually care about him and what he thinks. He’ll fight out the rest of the war at their side, but he’ll never be as good at it as they are.

BuddieTommy Buck self doubt:

He grabs his salad and slides back into his booth and puts the phone down again, so he can resist revisiting the texts from his boyfriends. How their latest response to him saying he was going to be coming home today were just the thumbs up emoji and an “Okay, let us know if that changes.” So different from the reply to his first text, before he’d been invited to stay, with heart reacts and “Can’t wait to see you! We miss you!”

Jason/Constantine Priest of Gotham:

“Why didn’t you bloody well tell me you’ve got a priest?” Constantine barks, several notches higher than he had been talking with B.

All three of them glance over in time to see B actually try to pinch the bridge of his nose through the cowl. It doesn’t work, of course, but says a lot about how he’s feeling. “He don’t have a priest, but if you think a man of the cloth would be helpful I can reach out to St. Michaels —”

“Not have a — he’s right there!” and the tan trench coat clad arm is pointing right at Jason.

Jason eats another chip.

“You’re a priest, little wing?” Dick asks around a barely suppressed laugh.

“Not in this universe,” is Jason’s response, “unless Halloween counts — but I was technically a nun for that.”

“I have questions,” Tim says, no longer solely focused on his screen.

Jason/Slade Flu:

Jason didn’t understand why someone would genetically engineer an illness to give to Slade that only gave him a minor flu. Until he had to be the one to take care of him.

He gets it now.

He’s going to kill that son of a bitch whoever it is whenever he finds them — regardless of who it is or where they are. He will kill them in front of Bruce and the whole world and not regret it at all.

Because Slade? Slade is the worst patient in the history of patients.

Jason/Natasha/Bucky in series (series):

“Hey, so that thigh move you do,” the Red Hood who is probably Jason Todd says to Natasha while the person who might be James Buchanan Barnes but is certainly the Winter Soldier is evaluated at the Avengers Tower.

Natasha turns to him, not bothering to smile. People bringing up the thigh move only goes one way, and when she has to pretend sometimes that it’s not deeply offensive she doesn’t have to pretend right now. “Yes?” she prompts.

“Could you teach it to me?” he finishes, grinning bright behind his domino mask which he’s refused to take off.

[kookaburra1701]

OC in 15: Khemor gro-Skaven

tagged by @dirty-bosmer: share 15 lines or less of dialogue that showcases your OC's personality

I was tagged for this awhile ago, and I've finally gotten some breathing room to go through my snippets about my LDB, Khemor gro-Skaven. This was fun, and while there are of course more lines that I want to share, trying to pick ones that would stand alone more-or-less was a challenge!

I tag @gilgamish @saltymaplesyrup @archangelsunited

“Master Phinis has shared with me the manuscript you are co-authoring with him. I was quite taken with your elegant proof of Rhythandius’ Fourth Postulate. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone come at the problem from the contrapositive before.”

“Many of the Legion, mostly Nords and native sons of Hammerfell, refused to abandon Skaven, and deserted to continue protecting us. It was futile, of course. They were overrun and the Dominion occupied the city for two years.” He looked again at Calder and said quietly, “I am well-acquainted with the cruelties the Thalmor visit upon the populace of the places where they have control.”

“Indeed I do, Calder. I find myself looking at a future among your people, and despite how foreign many things in Skyrim are to me, I do not find it disagreeable.”

“I can feel it. I can hear the singing from Shor’s Hall in the wind. I look out the window and am surprised when there’s no bridge of whalebone waiting for me. I look up expecting to see the light of Aetherius instead of the moons.”

“What is there for me, down there, except pain and the knowledge that I am past my usefulness? I cannot return to Cyrodiil. I am certainly cast out of the College of Whispers. Now that Alduin is gone, dragons killed by others will stay dead. I would say I have only the clothes on my back but I believe these particular robes are actually Borri’s.”

“No, no. She was concerned that you were going to harm me, I think.” An echo of a heartbeat sounded behind him, resonating with his own. He sent another flicker of magicka in the heartbeat’s direction, just to be certain. “And she didn’t run off, she’s watching us from that juniper grove. I’m certain she can hear every word we’re saying.”

“I am called Khemor gro-Skaven, these men are my housecarls, Gregor and Calder. I am Thane to the High King of Skyrim, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. We were fortunate that our paths crossed with Borgakh today; she provided us with a great service.”

“For good or ill, I am seen as a symbol of Ulfric’s rule. Saying a few words over some children is perhaps the least onerous way to shore up the sentiment towards it among the citizenry. It’s certainly the easiest on the Jagged Crown’s coffers.”

“Friga, you belong in Aetherius. In Sovngarde. You fought to remain here, alive, but your fight is over now. Tsun is waiting for you.”

“Hardly--the only sea close to Skaven is the sand of the Sunforge. And Skyrim is my home now. When I’m on the road, it’s Hjerim that my thoughts turn towards, not Hammerfell.”

“Borgakh is a traveling companion. Nothing more," he said. "Her stronghold is the closest settlement to the source of the vampire activity, and they have experienced attacks over the years. She is accompanying me to Fort Dawnguard to offer her assistance for the sake of her clan.”

“My master was a once-in-ten-generations creative intellect when it came to the ebb and flow of magicka, delving into the secrets of the arcane, and uncovering the mysteries of Oblivion. This creativity did not extend to choosing a name for an Orsimer foundling.”

“YOL!” His mouth filled with heat, the feeling of solid matter becoming light, heat, and ash on his tongue.

“TOOR!” The ferocity of the troll’s heartbeat was eclipsed by the energy held within his own as the heat increased, burning even the ash.

“SHUL!” The inside of Khemor’s skin felt the oven-like heat of the sun over the Alik’r desert, even as the outside felt the cool dampness of the forest.

"You hold my heart and soul in your hands, Borgakh the Steel-Heart. Please," his voice dropped into a husky whisper. "Please don't let them break." He pushed their hands and the soul gem against her chest. "Keep them safe."

“When I married you it was with the knowledge that I will likely spend more of my life grieving you than at your side.”

[crustaceousfaggot]

Hob Gadling traditional folk music collection.

Been thinking about a sort of Hob Gadling character playlist composed entirely of British folk music. Songs he might have listened to throughout his life and resonated with. This is also just a little excuse for me to share some of my favorite folk songs from across the history of the British Isles :) Most of these are British in origin, but a couple are Scottish.

Some of these choices are loosely based on the fic And In The Waking World We Want And Wait by @qqueenofhades because at this point it's basically canon to me and has considerably influenced my perception of the character. Furthermore, I'm writing this with Dreamling in mind because... Well because I want to.

I'm attaching recordings for each piece, but keep in mind that, by the nature of folk music, songs (both melody and lyrics, as well as accompaniment and performance choices) are intrinsically altered in every performance and there is no single correct interpretation of a piece. If you don't like the recordings I picked, I encourage you to seek out your own :)

I am not a music historian, just a classical singer with a love of traditional folk and a cursory education on music history.

Lastly, keep in mind that folk music in the Late Medieval and Early Modern music exists in a much different form than it does today, both in its lyrical and melodic content. Of the songs surviving from that period, the majority are liturgical in nature. Those that aren't are generally about farming, changing seasons, and (of course) drinking. I've done my best, but most of these pieces aren't perfect fits. Still, what character playlist is?

Arranged in rough chronological order.

1200s: "Sumer is icumen in" (composer unknown) (Note: This song is the oldest recorded English language folk song. I think that's pretty neat.)

Sumer is icumen in Loude sing cuccu (cuckoo) Groweth sed (seed) and bloweth (bloometh) med (meadow) and springeth the worlde new

(Full text)

~1450: "Tappster, Drinker" (unknown composer)

Tappster, Drinker, fill another ale, Anonn God sende us good sale. Avale the stake, avale, here is good ale y founde. Drynke to me and y to the and lette the cuppe goe rounde.

(This is, as far as I can tell, the full text)

~1513: "Pastime with Good Company" (King Henry VIII)

Youth must have some dalliance Of good or ill some pastance Company methinks then best All thoughts and fancies to digest. For idleness Is chief mistress Of vices all Then who can say. but mirth and play Is best of all.

(Full text)

1500s: "The Ballad of Tamlin" (composer unknown) (Note: Yes this one is @landwriter 's fault. Go read Oaths. Also, I'm using one of many translations of the original ballad, but there's also an excellent folk punk adaptation by The Forgetmenauts which you should listen to if you like the story. Generally, I'm not doing this ballad any justice with my little 2-line snippet and I encourage you to look into it more yourself.)

"For if my love were an earthly knight as he is an elfin grey, I'd not change my own true love for any knight you have."

(Full text)

~1580-1650: "Greensleeves" (composer unknown)

Alas, my love you do me wrong To cast me off discourteously And I have loved you so long Delighting in your company

I have been ready at your hand to grant whatever you would crave; I have both wagered life and land Your love and good will for to have

(Full text)

1700s: "A Maid in Bedlam" (composer unknown)

My love he'll not come near me To hear the moan I make, And neither would he pity me If my poor heart should break, But, though I've suffer'd for his sake, Contented will I be, For I love my love Because I know he first loved me.

(Full Text)

1800s: Black is The Colour of My True Love's Hair (composer unknown) (Note: although the most famous variations of this piece are from 20th century America, the piece is believed to have originated in Scotland some time in the 19th century.)

Black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair, His lips are something rosy fair, The fairest face and the gentlest hands I love the grass wheron he stands.

(Full text)

1813: "The Last Rose of Summer" (Thomas Moore) (Note: I was a bit conflicted about adding this one. The song is about the pain of losing those you love to time, and the loneliness that comes from outlining your companions, both of which are sentiments I feel are very applicable to Hob. However, the song also implies that death is a mercy in the face of such loneliness, which obviously doesn't align with Hob's worldview.)

'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone. All her lovely companions are faded and gone. No flower of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes and give sigh for sigh.

(Full text)

1902: "Whither Must I Wander" (Ralph Vaughan Williams, from the song cycle "Songs Of Travel") (Note: This is technically not a true folk song but shhhhh. This was the song that inspired this whole list because I absolutely adore Vaughan Williams and particularly this cycle.)

Home was home then, my dear, full of kindly faces, Home was home then, my dear, happy for the child. Fire and the windows bright glittered on the moorland; Song, tuneful song, built a palace in the wild. Now, when day dawns on the brow of the moorland, Lone stands the house, and the chimney-stone is cold. Lone let it stand, now the friends are all departed, The kind hearts, the true hearts, that loved the place of old.

(Full text)

1904: "In Dreams" (Ralph Vaughan Williams, from "Songs of Travel") (Note: I will not apologize for using two pieces from the same cycle. Y'all don't understand I'm so autistic about these songs. Also, I had to pick at least one song with "Dream" in the title haha.)

In dreams unhappy, I behold you stand As heretofore: The unremember'd tokens in your hand Avail no more. [...] He came and went. Perchance you wept awhile And then forgot. Ah me! but he that left you with a smile Forgets you not.

(Full text)

1946: "Come you not from Newcastle?" (Arr. Benjamin Britten, original composer unknown) (Note: Although the text of the song itself doesn't necessarily have any strong Hob Vibes, the most widely known arrangement of this piece was done by Benjamin Britten, one of the country's most famed composers and also a fairly open homosexual. This, combined with the text of the song and the time that this arrangement was written, gives the song a distinctly queer vibe, at least to me, and so it makes the list. The recording attached is by Britten's life partner, Peter Pears.)

Why should I not love my love? Why should not my love love me? Why should I not speed after him, Since love to all is free?

(Full Text)

And that's all of them! Please let me know if you have any traditional folk songs you know that fit the bill, as I'm always looking for more good traditional folk music. It holds a special place in my heart :)

Consider reblogging if you got anything out of this post, since I did spend quite awhile on it and I'd love it if it got out to the wider Sandman fandom.

Resources: 1 2 3 4

[podcastjam]

Project Spotlight #4: The Ichorous Rot

Time for another project spotlight! Today, we're chatting with Sam from The Ichorous Rot.

Tell us a bit about yourself and your teammates!

@spinning-logic: Hey-o, I'm Charlie. I will be voice acting, sound editing, and assisting in some writing for our Podcast Jam entry! My first ever fiction podcast was Welcome to Night Vale (as it is for many, I'm sure), and my current favorite is pretty squarely tied with Malevolent and The Magnus Archives--though I'm truly loving Protocol too. I'm dipping my toes into hearing even more podcasts, like WOE.BEGONE and Old Gods of Appalachia. This is the first Podcast I've ever worked on, and hopefully what I learn from it will lead to creating more!

@moookar: Hi hi hello, I’m Mooo! I’m voice acting and writing. I’ve never worked on a podcast before TIR, but boy oh boy do I have lots of experience listening: WOE.BEGONE, Malevolent, and The Grotto are some of my current favorites, and I got started listening with The Magnus Archives and Dimension 20. Most of all, I’m just a fan of any speculative fiction I can get my hands on.

@gooboogy: I'm G! I do the music and some of the voice acting for The Ichorous Rot. I've been listening to audiobooks for ages and I listened to The Adventure Zone but only really started listening to audio dramas about a year ago with The Magnus Archives and Malevolent. It's not until I listened to WOE.BEGONE that I considered doing one myself! I don't have a fav podcast, but I have some fav characters such as Lucas Miller, Elias Bouchard, Kayne, and Ty Betteridge respectively. My fav genre is when Shit Gets Weird and I love it best when there's fucked up little blorbos :3

@fluxoid: Hey there! I'm Niall! I'll be doing some of the voice work for the Ichorous Rot. I've been listening to audio drama (and actual play) podcasts for over a decade now, starting with Welcome to Night Vale (of course). Current favorites are probably WOE.BEGONE and Midst, though I'm listening to many more. This is my first foray into the creative side of things and I'm excited to see where it goes!

@falloutcoys: Hello, I'm Sam! I'll be co-writing for The Ichorous Rot. I got started listening to WTNV in 2014 but really got into audio dramas when I picked up TMA in 2021. My current favorite pods have to be Midst,Not Quite Dead and WOE.BEGONE! This will be the first show I'm involved being published, but I'm writing my own passion project as well (@aboardtheichthyoid).

What's your podcast about?

Our project is set in 1880s West Virginia. Dr. Theodore Yates as he's overwhelmed in his duties as Janesville’s only doctor by a mysterious illness spreading through the town. We follow him through a combination of his own medical notes recorded on a wax cylinder, and snippets of audio following him and his best friend Alonzo as he tries to find a way to resolve The Ichorous Rot. It's a mystery that explores the effects of working class life and generational trauma through a supernatural lens.

What are you most excited about in this event?

This event has been such a great learning opportunity and way to collaborate with others! Everyone has had great ideas and we're able to bounce off each other and flesh out the story together, which is a really unique experience.

Any advice for other participants, or those on the fence about joining?

If you've been on the fence about joining, go for it! This is a really fun experience and it has the lowest possible stakes. Worst case scenario, you've met some great people and learned about producing a podcast. Best case scenario, you make an episode you're really proud of that grows into something much bigger.

While this team is no longer looking for new members, you can follow their project here on Tumblr @theichorousrot. Additionally, with a couple days left to sign up, there's still time to join the fun and work on a Podcast Jam project yourself - find out more information here!

[girlfromthecrypt]

Hiiii. Hope you are doing wellllll

I'm going around asking some of my fav IF projects this question so here goes.

Hello!! Okay so ROs reaction to MC being asked out in front of them..? (crushing stage vs. relationship stage)

This turned into quite a long post. I've decided to write snippets for each of the characters' reactions. This first one is for Basil! I'll post the others separately. Enjoy! (read below)

Crushing stage: Basil’s back is turned to you. He stands off to the side sorting through his backpack, figuratively burying his nose in it— but he can hear you talking to the other man. He can hear you just fine.

“So, I was wondering what you were doing later?” the other man asks. There’s a slant in his voice, a curious, playful undertone. 

“Well, we were going to make a campfire to tell the kiddos some stories at,” you reply. “You know that.”

“Yes, yes, of course I do.” He laughs.

Basil thinks it sounds like a cat mewling through a cheesegrater. 

“I was thinking you might like to take a little walk together afterwards?” the other counselor goes on. 

Basil hoists his pack up with an unnecessarily loud grunt. “Fuck me, it’s hot today, isn’t it?” he calls out to you before walking right through between the two of you. He does not look back once, willing himself to think of anything besides that prick’s moronic laugh. Such a very annoying sound.

Relationship stage: Basil is lying sprawled out on the brown sofa in the lobby. Behind him, you are talking to one of your other colleagues from Cloverleaf. Just another man in an ill-fitting jacket whose name he couldn’t remember if he tried.

But he’s really drawing out that conversation, isn’t he?

“So, did you have plans for after work, because—”

“They do,” Basil says, loudly, pulling himself up to look over the sofa’s backrest. He throws the other man a rather mirthless smile. “Hi,” he mouths. “They do have plans. With me. I’m their boyfriend and we have plans.”

“That was a bit childish of you,” you tell him once your colleague has made a swift exit.

“But it’s true, no?” he replies, lifting his freckled nose almost haughtily. Then his eyes widen. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Basil is a little jealous. And petty. But he's mad about you, if that's any excuse.

[like-icarus-burns]

The Kreotic Oath - Cirelka Chronicles #1

current word count: 10,010/25,000

I REACHED TEN THOUSAND WORDS! i was worried that i would be stuck in the limbo between 5k and 10k forever, but i finally reached my original goal of 10,000 words!! and…. i’ve got a tentative title!! as seen above lol. i will be tagging this and previous and future posts with both #wip: cirelka chronicles AND #wip: the kreotic oath

to celebrate, i will be posting another snippet from the latest chapter i’m working on! and my askbox is open if you want to send questions about it (or any of it)! ((i turned on anon for a while in case anyone actually wants to)).

this snippet introduces a new character! >:)

Cedar grunted as he collided with a body, stumbling backwards. The only thing that kept him from falling was the strong hand gripping his forearm, which then hauled him upright. He stumbled a few steps, blinking as he came face-to-chest with someone. He blinked again as he saw his hand still resting where he had instinctively placed it on the person’s chest. He cleared his throat, and stepped back as he felt heat rush to his cheeks.

“My apologies,” he said, bowing slightly before looking up at who he had run into.

“I should have been paying attention,” the guy said, looking apologetic. Cedar shook his head quickly, eyes wide as he took in who he had run into. His warm brown eyes and blond hair is what caught Cedar’s attention immediately, but it was the jewelry that the young lord that gave away who he was. At least, his class compared to Cedar.

“No, the fault lies with me, sire,” he said, bowing again, this time deeper to show more respect. “I was lost in my thoughts.”

“I guess we’ll have to agree to split fault evenly between us,” the young lord said, as if it were that simple. Cedar glanced up to find the blond smiling in amusement. He swallowed thickly and straightened again.

“I guess,” he echoed, surprised.

The blond raised an eyebrow at him, “My name is Onyx,” he introduced with a slight bow while maintaining eye contact. Cedar’s cheeks flushed red again, he had to force himself to swallow so he didn’t choke.

“Cedar,” the boy in question introduced, bowing once again. He saw Onyx smile a little wider, and he knew that his face must be red as an apple as he realized that it was the third time he’d bowed in the last few minutes.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cedar,” the young lord said with a warm smile. Cedar had the strangest feeling that he meant it. “Your tethering must be today,” Onyx surmised as his eyes traveled from his face to his feet and back again.

Cedar blinked in surprise, “Yes, it is. How did you know?” he asked, tilting his head. It wasn’t common that a non-witch knew when a tethering was.

“The clothing you are wearing, it is special for the ceremony, no?”

“They were made specifically for my Crossroads,” he nodded, spreading his arms out slightly to show off the loose garments. “Clem’s Clothier specializes in them.”

Onyx hummed, gaze lingering on Cedar’s shirt. “Well, they look great.” he said, smiling at him. “I recognized them from previous tetherings I’ve attended.”

Cedar raised his eyebrows, “Oh? Have you been to many? I haven’t seen you…”

“Oh, no, not here. I’m in Verhol for my father’s health,” Onyx shook his head with a sheepish grin. “We are originally from Astenia, but we were referred to the Heliades family. Do you know them?”

Cedar’s heart sank to the ground at the mention of his family, and scratched the back of his neck. “Ah,” he stalled, “in a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Are they as good as they say?” Onyx implored.

Cedar nodded, “Yes,” he confirmed, because he may not be very happy with them right now, his family was still the best around. “They’ve cured many illnesses, your father is in good hands.”

Onyx seemed to relax at his words, nodding. “Good, good.”

Cedar glanced at his watch and made a startled noise, “I’m sorry, but I must go. I have to get ready for the ritual.”

“I apologize for holding you up,” Onyx said and bowed shallowly. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

Cedar returned the bow, “Perhaps,” he agreed as he stood. “May Change steady you, Onyx.”

“Maystead, Cedar.”

—

ENTER STAGE LEFT: ONYX CALLOWAY! who is he? idk!! he just showed up!!

some friends: @estrellami-1 @steadfastsaturnsrings @sunflower-eddiediaz

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Are you going to write more stories for Mythic Mumbattan (pleasepleaseple-)

[deep breath]

Yes my dear anon, I shall be writing more mmau stuff, it’s so hard not to because going insane over it is like my full time job. Yes the little guys make me ill. yes I’ll keep writing about them <3

I know I am not Writing as much as before but trust me when I say I still think about it a lot. Literally nothing else is in my mind. To make up for my silence, I’ll give you a snippet of the upcoming fic:

Manjula and Rijul and their (pre-transmasc) kid Pavitr. Or Parvati. Who now goes by Pavitr. You’ll get it once I actually buckle myself down and write it lol

(snippet is also under the cut if the image doesn’t load)

Upon seeing her, Manjula smiled and said, ‘Hello, Maya! Been a long time, hasn’t it?’

Setting down the tray on the table set between the couch and chairs, Maya handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Manjula, I missed you,’ she said with faux sadness but still with that tenderness she reserved for her friend, her family. ‘What has Rijul dragged you into this time?’

Rijul coughed, taking his cup from Maya’s outstretched hand. ‘Nothing!’ he said indignantly, readjusting his glasses. ‘Well, I didn’t have any plans for today. Parvi wanted to see you guys again.’

As if on cue, Parvati wailed and tried climbing up Bhim’s leg, babbling out a string of sounds. She moved too much for Maya to give Bhim his cup of coffee without it being knocked over, so she instead sat beside Bhim on a metal framed chair, watching as her niece playfully tugged at Bhim’s veshti.

Parvati Prabhakar looked a lot like her father, and thus a lot like her uncle, too — Maya could pick out the wide nose she saw on Bhim, and her warmer, darker skin tone was from her father. The thick, sloping eyebrows was another thing she shared with Rijul, but Parvati’s hair, braided tightly and intricately and tied off at the end with a plastic flower hair tie, was much thicker and silkier than her father or Bhim’s wispy, greying hair. Maya assumed it came from her mother, and she couldn’t help but point it out.