#eclipse era of the beast

[eclipseeraofthebeast]

[decagondice]

༓ Foul & Fair ༓

༓ 'The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.' [Macbeth, William Shakespeare]

༓ Pairing. Trueform!Sukuna x Wife!Reader

༓ Synopsis. In a kingdom ruled by the feared and ruthless King, his reserved queen harbours a deadly secret. Devoted to her husband and his reign, she begins to punish those who defy him in the shadows, her hands stained with blood he never commanded her to spill. As guilt consumes her, she spirals deeper into madness, terrified of what Sukuna will do if he discovers the truth. But Sukuna, the King of Curses, knows far more than she realises. In a chilling confrontation, she must face the dark question: Does Sukuna's love run as deep as her sins, or is there something far more dangerous waiting in the shadows?

༓ Content. Inspired by Shakespeare's 'Macbeth' (Very loosely), sfw, Dark romance, Medieval Era, F!Reader, King/Trueform!Sukuna, Angst w/ comfort, Anxious & spiralling reader, Reader could be classed as a yandere (?), Protective Sukuna (?), Possessive Sukuna (?), Yandere (?) Sukuna, Emotional distress, Slight fear of abandonment, Spiralling, Mentions of death, Talks of violence, Hurt, Conflict of feelings, Mentions of Blood, Not proofread.

༓ Word Count. 3.5k

༓ A.N. I thought I should contribute to the spooky season, though exclude spooky and scary and replace them with anguish and spiralling madness. I had another random thought, drawing inspiration from Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth scene at the sink where here reader is secretly taking down those who reject Sukuna (and his rule) whilst spiralling into chaos but he finds out. [As, you already tell I am horrendous at tagging and disclosing content, let me know if I have missed anything out :)]

[Artwork by Gustave Moreau - 'Study for Lady Macbeth', 1851]

The night was thick with the weight of silence, suffocating and tense, pressing against the castle walls as if burdened by secrets of its own. The grand, cold castle loomed over the kingdom like an ever-watchful beast, its towering spires stretching into the night sky as shadows pooled beneath its battlements. Pale moonlight cast silver streaks across the stone floors, spilling through the halls and filling them with a ghostly light that seemed to intensify the gloom. The oppressive darkness was alive, seething in the corners of vast chambers and dreary corridors, pressing into every crevice like a silent judgement.

At the heart of this silence reigned the feared King of Curses, a sovereign whose iron and stone throne stood as a testament to his ruthless rule. His dominion was absolute—unyielding in cruelty, yet disturbingly effective. The people despised him, their whispers venomous, though none could deny that under his iron fist, the kingdom flourished. The harvests were plentiful, the borders secure, and enemies scattered like ash in the wind. But for all its prosperity, the kingdom lived under a cloak of shadows, a foreboding silence settling over its people and their ruler.

In the dim chambers of your own quarters, the same darkness felt suffocating, wrapping itself around you like a shroud. The air was heavy with the sharp, resinous scent of burning pine, mingling with the faint, metallic tang that clung to your skin as if it knew what lay on your conscience. You move through the pale light, haunted by the shadows of your deeds, the stone floors beneath your feet feeling cold and implacable, much like the guilt gnawing at your insides.

Enveloped in an otherworldly pallor, the room stretched vast and hollow, its walls draped in tapestries that told of battles long past, of victories soaked in blood. The heavy curtains, embroidered with dark emblems of power, hung motionless, like sentinels guarding the space. Their once grand opulence seemed stripped bare, eclipsed by the sins you carried, like spirits bound to your very soul. Every step you took echoed with the voices of those who had spoken against Sukuna—voices you had silenced and condemned in his name, though he had never commanded it. The room spun, your vision blurring as fragmented memories of punishment and blood swirled in your mind, sharp and piercing like shards of broken glass.

Outside, the wind’s mournful wail, weaving through the stone halls like a restless spirit, moaning for the damned as it rattled the iron-framed windows. And beneath that same iron sky, Sukuna—the man both feared and beloved—remained vigilant, a dark watchful presence in a kingdom thriving and suffering under his reign.

Yet, even the most powerful rulers had their shadows.

You were his wife, the queen who moved with silent grace through the corridors of his court, always by his side, always poised, always watching. While others feared his wrath and kept their distance, you remained the only one to whom he showed an unspoken tenderness. It was an odd love, one not built on affection but on something far deeper—an understanding of the cruelty of the world and the weight of power. He never uttered words of devotion, but his eyes lingered on you longer than they did on anyone else. And in that silence, you found a bond that could not be broken.

But bonds can fester, too, like wounds left unattended.

You stood at the ornate sink, water spilling over your trembling hands, though it did nothing to wash away the sins embedded in your skin. The marble basin beneath felt cold, unforgiving—a stark contrast to the marks you bore. The faucet, carved like a serpent’s maw, hissed ferociously, its flow indifferent to how furiously you scrubbed, how raw your hands had become. The blood was gone, dried long ago, but its crimson stain lingered vividly, as though it had seeped into your very soul. Each drop of water that fell seemed as though it should run red—a silent stream of accusation pooling at the bottom of the basin.

The mirror before you reflected a woman you no longer recognised. Your eyes were vacant, dulled by sleepless nights and the weight of your actions. Gaunt, pale, like the ghost of someone you once were. You wanted to scream and tear the image apart, to erase what you had become. Your chest tightened with the growing sense of dread. You could barely meet your own gaze, knowing full well what you had done, fearing that the reflection might whisper your wrongdoings back to you. And the fear—always, always—the gnawing dread of what he might say when he finds out. What would Sukuna, your husband and king, think of you now—his dutiful wife—tainted by the very blood you sought to cleanse? What if he cast you aside, repulsed by your actions, leaving you to languish in the darkness of your own guilt?

The truth was, you weren’t sure if you feared his anger more, or his indifference.

The misdeeds you had carried out—the punishments you had dealt out in the dark corners of the kingdom—had begun to claw at your mind. Those who rejected Sukuna, who cursed his name in the streets, had found themselves at your mercy. You had killed for him, with a coldness that even now frightened you. You did it not for the kingdom, not for the crown, but for the man behind the title. The man who held your heart in his calloused, monstrous hands—hands stained with bloodshed far beyond your own.

The footsteps came as they always did, slow, methodical, echoing through the cold stone halls long before he arrived. You stiffened, your ragged breath catching in your throat. Sukuna’s presence was like the weight of the kingdom itself—a force of nature, dark and indescribable, and you, standing there with blood on your hands—both literal and imagined—felt like a creature awaiting judgement. His judgement.

The door creaked open, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop as his towering frame filled the space. Even without seeing him, you could feel the sheer power he radiated, a terrifying, inescapable darkness that made him the ruler he was. He was feared, hated, worshipped, and he wielded it all with a ruthless hand. You loved him, too, though that love came with its own shadow, twisted and warped in the way only power could corrupt.

He didn’t speak at first, letting his slow and deliberate gaze sweep over you, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, taking in every trembling movement, every faltering breath as you bore the burden of your sins, and it was clear that none of it had escaped his notice. His crimson eyes, sharp and unreadable, lingered on your hands, red from the water and from your desperate attempts to rid yourself of the evidence that existed only in your mind. The faintest twitch of his brow was the only sign of his reaction. 

“Why do you trouble yourself, wife?” His voice, low and gravelly, cut through the silence like a blade, but not without an unexpected softness that hung in words. He stepped forward now looming over you, and you felt the pull of him, the dark magnetism that had drawn you into his orbit long ago. “What is it you hope to wash away?”

You froze, your heart thundering in your chest. He was too close now, his reflection joining yours in the mirror. His gaze was unflinching, cold yet calculated, as if he already knew the answer. Of course, he knew. Sukuna always knew, far more than he ever let on. He was not a man to be easily deceived, and yet you had tried—foolishly, pathetically—to keep your deeds hidden, believing that the blood on your hands would go unnoticed by a man who had waded through rivers of it. You had not yet answered him, but in the oppressive stillness of this chamber, he would draw the truth from your lips as certainly as the sun would rise. 

The question hung between you like a blade suspended in midair. A thousand excuses raced to the tip of your tongue but none seemed sufficient. What could you say to him now? How could you confess the blood you had spilled without admitting the fear that drove you to it? That you thought you could act without his knowledge? That you could shield him, or worse, act in his stead? 

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, the lie burning your throat as it left your lips, trying to force the words out as calmly as you could. “I’ve been restless, that’s all.”

He said nothing at first, his eyes—a deep, glowing crimson that burned through the dim light— narrowing with a terrifying patience, as though waiting for you to trip over your own words. His silence felt more damning than accusation, and you couldn’t help but shift under the weight of his gaze. Still, you dared not meet his eyes in the mirror, fearing what you might see there—disappointment, perhaps, or worse, apathy. 

“Restless?” He repeated, his voice curling around the word like a snake tightening its coils. There, behind you, his presence was solid and immovable, much like the great stone walls of the castle itself. His hand had moved to your shoulder, heavy and possessive, his fingers cold against your skin. Deceptively gentle, his touch held an unmistakable strength, an authority that demanded answers.“You lie to me.” His voice was dark velvet, smoothing over the jagged edges of your panic, but each word sliced through the air, leaving you feeling bare, exposed. 

With a gentle motion, he turned you to face him, his gaze capturing yours with an intensity that stole your breath away. His hand, large and rough from countless battles, brushed against your cheek, pushing aside a strand of your hair dampened with sweat. The gesture was too tender, too human for a man like him—a man who slaughtered thousands without a second thought, whose name was a curse on the lips of his enemies. And yet here he was, gentle with you, the only one in his kingdom to receive such mercy.

You leaned into his touch, a broken sigh escaping your lips as your knees threatened to buckle. Your body, fragile and trembling, was held up only by his presence. His hand, firm yet careful, traced the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing against your pulse that fluttered like a trapped bird.

“Look at you,” Sukuna’s voice rumbled low, carrying an edge of something you haven’t heard before. Could it be…concern? “You’ve grown so pale.”

Your breath faltered, and you felt the sting of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The lie had been pitiful, and now the truth hovered on the edge of your lips threatening to unravel everything. He knew already, didn’t he? Sukuna was no fool, and here you were tangled in your own web of fear and love, too afraid to admit what you had done. But now, standing in his shadow there was no escape.

“What have you done?”His voice was quieter now, but there was a dangerous sharpness to it, like a blade glinting in the dark..

His gaze shifted to your hands again, and the faintest frown tugged at the corners of his lips. He took your hands in his, lifting them from the water, the cold droplets running down your wrists like tears. He studied them, turning them over, his fingers tracing the raw skin where you had scrubbed at invisible bloodstains. The touch was almost reverent, as though he understood, in some unspoken way, the burden you carried.

"You've stained them for me." It wasn’t a question, but a statement. His voice was rough but slow, as if he were working through something. He could see the turmoil in your eyes, the haunted look that came from guilt and fear—fear of him. 

How could you not fear him? He, who had bathed in the blood of his enemies and found joy in their screams? He had no right to judge you, to be angry or disappointed. He had slaughtered far more than you ever could, his hands forever soaked in the blood of the innocent and the damned alike.

“I…” you started, your voice shaking, “I only wanted to protect you.” The words came out too quickly, too desperate, and the moment you spoke them you regretted them.

His fingers traced a path up your neck, curling under your chin, forcing your face upward with his scarlet eyes boring into yours. “Protect me?” he murmured, his voice a dangerous purr, the barest hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. “You think I need protection?”

“No,” you whispered, trembling now, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “Not you…but those who sought to challenge you.” You swallowed hard, the confession falling from your lips before you could stop it. “The ones who spoke against you. They…they cursed your name. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t let them defy you. Not with their worthless lives and their petty defiance.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest, low and humourless, vibrating through the air between you. His hand slipped from your chin to your shoulder, his grip tightening slightly, enough to make you feel the control he had over you, the power he held. “And so, you thought it was your place to end them?”

The pain came suddenly, like a hot blade piercing through your skull, leaving you gasping for breath. You pressed a trembling hand to your temple, your vision blurring as the world around you wavered. The familiar, nauseating throb of the headache began to claw at your mind, the weight of your guilt manifesting in sharp, crippling waves. 

And then the memories came—hazy, fractured, like fragments of glass slicing through your consciousness. You saw flashes of faces twisted in agony, the sound of desperate pleas that had fallen on deaf ears. The crack of the whip as it tore through flesh, the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground. Their eyes—wide, terrified, as they realised their fate. The words they had uttered against Sukuna, the defiance that had sealed their doom. You had watched, cold and distant, as their lives bled out before you, justifying it all in the name of loyalty.

Blood. So much blood. It stained your hands, dripping from your fingers, soaking into the earth. You tried to wash it away earlier, scrubbing frantically, but it clung to you, thick and accusing. The cries of the condemned echoed in your ears, haunting and relentless, as if they would never leave you. You saw the moment their eyes dimmed, the light of life snuffed out, and the weight of their deaths settled on your soul like an iron chain.

You blinked, the vision dissolving into the present, the pain still pounding behind your eyes. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your body trembling as the memories faded, leaving you hollow. The room spun around you, and for a moment, you thought you might collapse under the weight of it all—the guilt, the shame, the horror of what you had done. Even now, even with his touch grounding you, the wrongs you had committed refused to let you go.

As you fought to regain your breath, your back pressed firmly against the cold stone, and your fingers dug into the edge of the sink, your knuckles white. “I thought… I thought you would be pleased,” you admitted, the words brittle and frail. “I did it for you.”

His gaze flickered, and for the briefest moment, something passed through his eyes—something that might have been understanding or amusement. Then it was gone, replaced by that familiar coldness. “You think I would have been pleased with your disobedience?” His voice was calm, yet it dripped with dark promise, a reminder of the power he wielded over you and the consequences that could follow.

“I would have thought,” he continued, “that you would come to me. Yet here you were, washing away the evidence of your transgressions as though I wouldn’t have known.”

You flinched at his words, the accusation clear, your heart hammering against your ribs. He was a king of slaughter, a creature born in blood. How could you have thought to deceive him?

Your lips trembled as you whispered, “I thought I was doing what you would have done.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. “You misunderstand, wife.” His hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers weaving through your hair with a possessive grip. “I kill because it is necessary. You kill out of fear.”

Your pulse quickened, panic rising in your chest, but his hand tightened just enough to keep you grounded, his voice softening as he spoke. “Do you think I wouldn’t have known what you have done? That I would let it pass unnoticed?” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “I know everything, even when you think you hide from me.”

Tears stung your eyes, and your lips parted, but no words came. He had known all along. He had watched you unravel, had let you dig yourself deeper into this darkness, even expecting you to come to him on your own. But you hadn’t. Instead, you had fallen deeper, spiralling into this madness, desperate to protect him, to prove your loyalty to a man who needed no protector.

He raised his other hand to your face, his fingers ghosting over your cheek, almost tender in the way they brushed aside the tears that spilled down. “You should not have feared me,” he said quietly, the darkness in his voice replaced by something softer, something that felt almost like affection. “I have bathed in blood far worse than this.”

He understood what you feared, even if you couldn’t say it aloud. You thought he would cast you aside for this—for acting in his name without his consent. But you had no reason to worry. Your actions, though misguided, came from a place he knew all too well—love, twisted and warped by power. And for that, he could not fault you.

His thumb grazed your trembling lips, silencing the sob that threatened to break free. And then, slowly, his hand moved upward, covering your eyes with his fingers pressing lightly against your eyelids, casting you into a sudden, terrifying darkness. You stiffened, but his touch remained gentle, his palm resting delicately against your skin as if to protect you from the weight of your own actions. You felt a moment of peace, of quiet—a reprieve from the torment that had consumed you.

“You worry for nothing,” he whispered against your ear, his voice low and intimate. “It is not judgement you should fear. Not from me.” 

His words settled over you like a balm, easing the weight on your chest. He would not leave you. He had never intended to. Even in your spiral, in your darkest moments, he would not cast you aside. He, the king of slaughter, had already known what it meant to live with blood on his hands.

And then, you felt his lips brush against the corner of your mouth, a touch so soft, so delicate. You shuddered under the weight of that moment, the fear that had consumed you slowly dissipating like mist in the light of dawn. It was not a kiss of anger, nor of passion, but a dark promise, a reminder that you were his, bound to him by blood and love, no matter what you had done. You would always be his.

His hand slipped away from your eyes, and when you opened them again, you were left feeling exposed, raw under his gaze. Yet, there was no signs of disgust in him, no fury. He had known all along, had let you descend into this unravelling, but he had not abandoned you. Sukuna, the King of Curses, the tyrant feared by all, had always been waiting, knowing that no matter how far you strayed, you would always return to him.

“Come,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble, commanding but not unkind. “Leave the water behind. It cannot wash away what we are.”

He took your hand in his, pulling you gently away from the sink, the water long silenced behind you. The shadows whispered, but their hold on you had weakened. Sukuna had pulled you from the darkness you had created, and as he led you from the room, his grip firm but reassuring, you knew that whatever sins lay on your hands, you would not bear them alone.

A.N. I don't know how to feel about this piece, whether I hate it or like it. I also felt like I was descending into madness trying to bring this idea into fruition. Anyways, Happy Halloween :)

[sepublic]

The Owl House Timeline

-Millennia Ago; The Archivists encounter the Demon Realm and send the Collector to play with the young Titans; The Collector meets the Titan known as the Boiling Isles, and comes across King’s egg; The Archivists commence a war against the Titans, who resist their attempts to turn every living thing into scrolls; Due to Titan magic countering their own, the Archivists enlist the help of the local demons, Bill among them, and create the Titan Trappers; An Archivist transforms the Owl Beast into a scroll, only to lose it in the ocean; The Boiling Isles Titan hides King on a remote island, shielded from the view of Archivists, and appoints Jean-Luc as the guardian. 

-The Collector is imprisoned in the in-between by the Boiling Isles, who is the last Titan alive; Hooty comes into existence after this during a hunt; The Archivists disappear from the isles; The Titan blows out Bill’s eardrums in a final battle against the Titan Trappers; The Titan escapes to the other side of the planet and ‘dies’, but due to her heart still beating, lingers as a ghost watching from the in-between; Bill communicates with the Collector using one of the moon discs, worshipping them as the Grand Huntsman, only to lose contact when the disc is broken; The Titan Trappers find the Boiling Isles, but are unable to locate King’s egg to free the Collector; Bill’s generation eventually dies out until he is the only one left, leading new generations of wannabe Titan Trappers; Hooty leaves the Boiling Isles’ eye.

-Hecktaceous Period; A Stonesleeper is transported to the Titan’s skull and placed as guardian; Luz Noceda briefly visits through a time pool.

-Witches and demons evolve from the Titan’s corpse; They initially learn glyphs by communicating with the Titan’s spirit on her knee, but eventually rely on their bile sacs instead.

-Thousands of Years Ago; The Bat Queen is carved and abandoned by her owner, a giant, after being wounded; She begins looking after other mistreated palismen in solidarity.

-Circa 1600s; The Deadwardian Era begins.

-1613; Young orphans Philip and Caleb Wittebane arrive in Old Gravesfield.

-Evelyn Clawthorne and Flapjack enter the human realm using an archway powered by Titan’s blood, and befriend a teenage Caleb; Evelyn and Caleb communicate using hidden rebuses, and a vial of Titan’s blood is buried outside the archway in Gravesfield.

-As an adult, Caleb moves to the Boiling Isles’ right arm with Evelyn permanently, marrying her. Philip enters the Boiling Isles through Eclipse Lake, emerging at the Knee, and discovers the Ice glyph.

-Circa May 21st, 16XX; Philip begins writing a journal documenting his journey in the Demon Realm.

-Five years after his arrival, Philip returns to Eclipse Lake and retrieves Titan’s Blood to build a Portal back home, emerging the only survivor; Philip absorbs Palismen essence to gain an advantage over witches, beginning his curse and slowing his aging; Philip reunites with Caleb, killing him and being chased off by a pregnant Evelyn; Philip discovers the Plant and Fire glyphs.

-1635; New Gravesfield is founded, replacing the town’s older layout.

-1660-70; Years after entering the Demon Realm, Philip Wittebane encounters Luz Noceda and Lilith Clawthorne, who travel from the future to meet him; Luz teaches Philip the last glyph, Light; Philip meets the Collector, and encounters the Stonesleeper he will use to create his first Grimwalker of Caleb; A Portal is made using the Titan’s eye that leads to Philip and Caleb’s childhood home, but ends up buried next to Evelyn’s archway.

-1693; “Witches eating babies” -Eda

-Philip creates his first Grimwalker of Caleb; Philip assumes the identity of Belos and claims to speak on behalf of the Titan, espousing the coven system; Belos and his Grimwalkers stage false flag attacks in order to scare the populace into believing them; A city on the Knee is abandoned as a result of one of these incidents. 

-A teenage Hieronymous Bump destroys a rival school resembling Glandus with his fellow students; Hexside is built atop the ruins.

-Circa 1972; Belos becomes Emperor of the Boiling Isles.

-1970-75; Caleb and Evelyn’s descendant Lilith Clawthorne is born; Two years later, her younger sister Edalyn Clawthorne is born.

-Eda, Lilith, Alador, Odalia, Darius Deamonne, and Perry Porter attend Hexside, with Principal Faust in charge; Despite or because of his role in Hexside’s founding, Bump is Vice Principal; Faust breaks up with Terra Snapdragon, who takes their home, forcing Faust to live at Hexside.

-1990s; Cosmic Frontier is published.

-Circa 1992; Eda meets Raine Whispers and Terra at IFWOT; Raine transfers to Hexside; Bump replaces Faust as Principal of Hexside; Eda is cursed by Lilith using the Archivist’s Owl Beast scroll; Lilith joins the Emperor’s Coven, and Eda discovers the Portal, emerging in the Wittebane house at Gravesfield; Eda watches Dragonclaw Z in the human world; Petrifications ‘officially’ end as a means of capital punishment.

-Darius is mentored by the Golden Guard; Darius has a falling out with Alador and Odalia; Alador wins the Bonesborough Brawl; Coven sigils are introduced and mandated; Raine and Eda break up; Raine joins the Bard Coven, only to realize the system’s corruption, and begins a campaign against it from within; The Golden Guard dies, and Lilith is appointed as the Head Witch of the Emperor’s Coven when Belos realizes she will travel to the past to meet him; Alador and Odalia marry and found Blight Industries together.

-Circa 2006; Emira and Edric Blight are born.

-Circa 2007; Skara is born, followed by Willow Park; Vee is the fifth basilisk to be cloned by Belos.

-Circa 2008; Luz Noceda and Amity Blight are born.

-Circa 2010; Augustus Porter is born.

-King Clawthorne finally hatches from his egg.

-Circa 2014; King is found and adopted by Eda.

-The Nocedas move to Gravesfield.

-August 22nd, 20XX; Manny Noceda succumbs to his illness and dies, leaving Luz the first book in The Good Witch Azura series.

-Luz becomes obsessed with The Good Witch Azura.

-Amity is forced to sever ties with Willow during her birthday.

-Circa 2017; Alador has his last weekend off before Odalia forces him to work overtime.

-Willow meets and befriends Augustus Porter.

-Circa 2021; Tibbles finds The Good Witch Azura books washed ashore the Boiling Isles, and sells them to the Book Nook; Amity is the only one who buys them and becomes obsessed.

-Eda begins selling human garbage at Bonesborough as a side gig.

-Amity leaves the Hexside Banshees, quitting Grudgby entirely; Vee and Numbers Three and Four escape the Conformatorium.

-Summer 2022; Luz Noceda enters the Boiling Isles, while Vee enters the human world.

-Mason is promoted to Head Witch of the Construction Coven after the yearly Covention, in time for Luz to attend her first day at Hexside.

-Hunter is appointed the new Golden Guard by Belos.

-Scooter Crane retires; Raine Whispers is appointed as the new Head Witch of the Bard Coven; Tarak sees King’s video while visiting the Boiling Isles and mistakes him for another Titan Trapper’s estranged son, dropping off an invitation letter.

-Luz and Lilith travel through a time pool and encounter Philip Wittebane in the year 1660-70.

-August 22nd, 2022; Reaching Out takes place.

-The Day of Unity occurs; The Collector is freed by King and stops the draining spell; Luz and her friends (and Belos) are stranded in Gravesfield after the Portal is destroyed; The Collector turns the population into puppets, and builds a palace out of the Titan’s skull.

-October 29th, 2022; The Hexsquad discovers the rebus left behind by Caleb.

-October 30th, 2022; The Hexsquad locates Evelyn’s vial of Titan’s Blood; Belos infects Hunter’s body.

-October 31st, 2022; Belos kills Flapjack, and Luz and her friends return to the Boiling Isles.

-November 1st, 2022; For the Future takes place.

-November 2nd, 2022; Luz befriends the Collector and destroys Belos once and for all; The Titan passes on.

-2026; Luz graduates from high school and has her 18th birthday.

[herebecritters]

I’ve got a ton of lore writings in the works and there’s a lot of little terms used by treefolk and by the trio. So here’s a handy guide in case anyone needs it.

THIS IS A LIVING DOCUMENT. There are sure to be edits and additions as time goes on.

Timeline

Dino-Sore Days

Period of time at the End of the Cretaceous Period before the meteor hit and the Death Curse began.

First Civilization

Period of time directly after the Meteor Strike and the Isles were formed. Cities built around the new Gods. Ends in extermination.

300 Year Colony

Period of time 66 million years after First Civilizations eradication. Years 1698 to 1998. Ends in extermination.

Current Era

Modern HTF as we know it.

Common knowledge

(Terms that most treefolks on the Isles will be familiar with)

The Isles: Also known as “The Isles of Da-rí-šè”, is a lush, multi-biomed cluster of islands hidden in the middle of the ocean and encompassed by a 66million year old Immortality Curse.

Critters/Treefolk: Sentient inhabitants of the world. Anthromorphic animals. Or “People” for lack of a better term.

Simple Beasts: Animals and creatures that live in the world who are not anthropomorphic characters. Pets, wildlife, ect.

Death Curse: The never ending loop of dying and regeneration experienced only within The Isles.

Blacking out: The sensation of losing consciousness and being unable to recall the specification of one’s own death on the Isles.

Death Hangover: The feeling one experiences when waking up alive after a death. Feelings of mental haze, disassociation, and a slight queasiness. Like you woke from a nightmare that you know you had but can’t seem to recall the details of it.

the Outside world/the real world/back home: No official word for this but many Treefolk tend to refer to the world and and their old life outside the Isles from time to time. As distant and far away as it now may seem to them…

Perma’d: the state of being dead without revival. Permanently dead.

Trio Terms

(Terms used among the trio or during the time of First Civilization and before.)

Holidays

(Holidays Celebrated during the First Civilization Era and still regarded by the Trio in private)

Day of Two Suns: New Year for the Critters of the First Civilization. Anniversary and Celebration of the day that the chixulub meteor hit the earth and ended the reign of the “Titans”. Transition from Spring into Summer.

Festival of Shedding: Summer into Autumn harvest festival and feast.

Nesting Day: Preparation of Autumn to Winter. Preparing the nest of Ki for the colder months.

Festival of Frogs: Winter into Spring festival when the frogs come out of hibernation.

Union: Solar Eclipse celebration

Bleeding Night: Lunar Eclipse Ritual to revive Theia from death with a chosen sacrifice.

Theology and Myths

Theia: The moon; deity of the Night and watcher of the small folk and critters.

Sâmâs: The Sun; deity of the Day

Ki: The Earth; Child of Theia and Sâmâs, asleep in the core of the planet.

Alagtila: The Idol of Life

Alagkana: The Idol of Misfortune

Alagumuna: The Idol of Blood

Dingirtila: Formal Title for the God of Life

Dingirkana: Formal Title for the God of Misfortune

Dingirumuna: Formal Title for the God of Blood

Egalkana: Temple of Misfortune

Egaltila: Temple of Life

Egalumuna: Temple of Blood

Mushhush: The name of Nergals monster form

Umamumurgu: Ancient beast of Rage and Fire sent by Sâmâs to protect the children of Theia from the Titans.

The World of the Curse

The Blood: Concentrated Suffering in the form of blood. Gives the idols their power.

The Wells: Underground rivers and lakes where the Blood is held. How full they are determines the amount of power the idols have.

Burrows: Series of tunnels deep below the Isles leading to the wells and to the Trios private chambers.

Hibernation: State of stasis where the trio can go long periods of time of inactivity to conserve Blood.

Ludari: “The Eternal People” The term used to describe the people who lived during the First Civilization before the Rebellion.

Lukurra: “Outsiders” Those who are not one of the three Idols. This term replaced Ludari after the rebellion.

Titans: The dinosaurs, pterosaurs, plesiosaurs, mosasaurs and other giant reptiles that went extinct after the meteorite hit.

Bonus

[deripmaver]

What’s The Point Of Elaine?

There are three eras of Casca in Berserk so far: Golden Age, Elaine, and Revived Casca. I find that within the fandom, Elaine is written off as not particularly worth analysis, that she just represents a transition state between the real Cascas, pre-eclipse and now revived. 

I do in some ways understand this feeling - Miura has said that in developing the story of Berserk, he ultimately decided in keeping Casca alive only because he needed a way to keep Guts’ rage intact, and not let the sands of time dull his need for revenge. This comes from an interview with Miura from 2017, that he spared Casca because she makes sure Guts never forgets the Eclipse. If I may editorialize, though, I think there are narrative reasons to keep a character alive, but that doesn’t mean said character isn’t being independently developed and doesn’t have their own inner world, especially when Miura has said repeatedly he’s trying to write real people and not archetypes. If I may also be snarky for a moment, considering one of my first interactions on Berserk tumblr had someone arguing that Casca stans read too much into Miura’s quote on her recovery to the point where you can’t even really assume he intended to have her recover - perhaps it’s reading too much into this quote to extrapolate that “Casca remained alive to fuel Guts’ anger = Casca as a character is only a plot device for Guts and Miura had no intention of developing her outside of that.”

Another reason to overlook her as a character that I do understand: Elaine is completely voiceless. She literally does not speak except for baby-ish noises from the time after eclipse until chapter 355, practically 275 chapters. For all of that time, we are given no indicating of how Casca is processing the eclipse (or not processing) - and so in some ways Elaine is just a narrative place holder as Kentaro Miura found his footing with her recovery. 

My intention with this post is to show that it is possible to gain a bit of insight into Casca’s feelings and emotions as Elaine from some key moments, even though she is never given a voice. Much like (in my opinion lol but also I’m right) Beast of Darkness is just a facet of Guts’ mind and not a separate being, ditto Femto for Griffith, Elaine is Casca, and she’s being written as Casca, just a shallow and surface level version of her. 

Elaine has these few shining moments where Casca comes through, showing that deep inside her mind, Casca is there, a terrified little sprite shielded by this childish outer shell, hiding from the world. First, when she jumps down the cliff during Conviction Arc:

Next, when she kills the men who attempt to rape her during the Winter’s Journey. 

I won’t post any more panels from that chapter lol. It would be better if there was just... A look into her mind during those moments, just for an instant. What made the actual Casca come through in those moments? How did she feel, suddenly being back in her body, in a world infinitely more terrifying than the one before she regressed? What happened to make her go back in, in her safe little cocoon of Elaine? 

Another moment where Casca comes through just for a moment is, in my opinion, one of the most powerful in the series: 

Casca has run to Griffith on the Hill of Swords. It’s not clear why - perhaps she remembers their closeness before the eclipse, or perhaps she’s being drawn to the moonlight boy, her son, in his body. All of a sudden, the unstable rock wall cracks, sending boulders tumbling towards her, and Guts isn’t close enough to get to her in time...

But Griffith is.

He protects her from the falling rocks, and we get the page posted above. This is the first time Casca has seen Griffith since he raped her during the eclipse. She starts to shake and sweat with him holding her still, her noises becoming terrified. She reaches out to him with a trembling hand, her eyes filling with tears. Her brand lets out a burst of blood, and her trauma and terror overwhelms her, while Griffith stares down at her impassively. Casca is still in there, and being confronted by her rapist again, she is absolutely terrified. This, to me, says so much about Casca in this state. Again, if we only could have gotten a glimpse into her mind at the moment, even if it was through the jumbled confusion of Elaine. I think it would have added so much.

I kept waiting for this scene to happen again with Casca revived, but at this point it hasn’t happened. Even with Casca in Falconia it hasn’t happened. MAYBE ONE DAYYYYYY.

There’s a particular look Casca gets when she’s terrified and dissociated, and that remains constant from the Golden Age, to Elaine, to post-revival. 

I also especially like that second panel, when she first wakes up as Elaine because her first instinct when terrified is to attack and bite Guts. It feels like a very Casca thing to do, and in fact that’s more or less what happens on their first meeting in the Golden Age, just a tragic perversion of it. Also, her expression is so similar to the one she made when she was begging Judeau not to die.

I think it’s worth noting that the impacts of Elaine on Casca are ongoing, and unlike some of the discussion I’ve seen, I don’t think anything that’s happened to her as Elaine will be brushed aside. As Elaine, we’re first introduced to her because she is absolutely terrified of all men, even her companions. 

This is reflected in the corridor of dreams, in my view, with the very unsubtle penis monsters (which I won’t post an image of LOL) - the association of men with sexual violence and sexual assault. Her close companions as Elaine were majority women, and this remained true after her revival. By the time Guts and Casca were reunited in Conviction arc, she seemed to have lost some of her mistrust of men, and him in particular - but of course that didn’t last long.

There’s also this imagery of her in a coffin, which is again reflected in the corridor of dreams.

Finally, and most interestingly, in chapter 372 it was pointed out to me that it seems Casca remembers her ordeal at the Tower of Conviction, and being surrounded by Falconia’s soldiers reminds her of the mob trying to burn her at the stake. 

There’s a lot to say also about Casca and Guts’ relationship and how his assault of her as Elaine impacted it, but I think that’s been discussed elsewhere and better than what I could. My point in writing this is to show that Miura was writing Elaine as Casca, and that there are moments where Casca seems to come to the surface and break through the protective façade. I think it could have only helped to give us just a brief glimpse into her mind in those moments, and it’s a detriment that there was nothing. In looking at the panels of Elaine, I think we can get a sense of where Casca’s recovery might go.

Interestingly, most of the moments I’ve shown here happen from before Farnese and co. join the group, and as the later arcs drag on I feel like Elaine gets goofier and less serious of a character, kind of like chestnut puck. Still, I still hold out hope that with Casca revived, even if she is in Falconia, we’ll start to see her process what happened to her as Elaine - especially if she comes across Luca and the girls, as I’m sure she will. 

Must protecc

[astrolavas]

i think it’s kind of interesting with the hexside tracks convo. i actually think construction magic is the only coven-specific type of magic we’ve ever seen hunter do? with that big earth fist he whacked amity with in eclipse lake. i don’t know if that would be an argument for or against him taking it as a class, but i feel like everything else we’ve ever seen him do is like,, not tied to a coven besides that one spell

(this is related to this old post but i put the answer in my drafts and the option of posting it vanished from my memory lmao)

tbh that IS true, i forgor it can be technically considered construction magic kxjsjks

i feel like there are so many spells and different "sub magic types" and magic courses that are kinda unclear which track they'd be taught at or where they fall under, especially since there are some tracks/magic types that we've only seen used in a very general way; like construction or oracle. we've seen manyyyy possibilities for some tracks, like abomination (like what darius vs alador vs amity can do, how differently it can be used) or bard (how at first glance it just feels like a "yeah we use instruments to fight and do spells" but then we also find out how much you can truly do with it and how much actually falls under bard magic through raine) or illusions (everything that gus, and graye, have been shown to do) etc. but some tracks/covens we have really just been kinda... shown from a very surface level lol

hell, i still wonder why anyone would ever choose a potion coven in a world during belos' reign, where you have to choose to only have one magic type, because... from all we've seen it seems like in order to make potions you don't really need any magic (having magic can help but it's not necessarily needed) so what magic DO you get??? you have to get something (maybe magic that can assist you in making potions?) but we have no clear idea what. also considering how oftentimes potion-making is also tied in with other magic types (like plants or healing or beast-keeping) it almost feels like it should be a sub-type of each magic or an addition rather than its own thing. BUT KXJSHSK YEAH like, we don't know! i wish it was more clearly fleshed out in the show.

there's also the fact that now that belos is gone, the society is able to take back their culture and history and practices that were lost to time and as we can see in the epilogue they're actively working on making the boiling isles less... belos-influenced. they're working on that process of decolonization and it's going to be a long LOOONG while until traces of belos' impact completely disappear, but there are already clear changes. the sky is clear again (just like it was in the "savage ages" - a contrast to the pollution we see in the emperor's coven era), palismen are being carved again and palistroms are coming back from being endangered, selkidomus is doing good, the once a police precinct in latissa is now a hospital and the hostile architecture around it (the spikes) is gone, there's now a way to remove sigils and everyone is free to pursue whatever they want. the society is healing. etc.

and covens, magic being split into these clear subtypes- was not ever really something natural. like yeah, there ARE magic types that seem very clearly "thematic" like you can very clearly separate bard magic from plant magic, and a witch can be naturally skilled in a particular thing (like willow or gus) but there are also some spells that overlap and some that seemingly don't fit into any covens at all. belos made up covens in order to limit witches' bodily autonomy and control their abilities, in order to seem more powerful and to create this structure of power. so i imagine that if you are in a coven, in any coven, there are spells that don't quite fit any of them, or some that fit all.

i. ngl i completely derailed the ask and forgot where i was going with this LMAO but yeah

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

To the Next Adventure

Atem/YamiYugii X F!Reader

Darkness was everywhere you looked. It surrounded you, preventing any other movement besides the pivot of your head. It was neither cold nor warm, dry nor wet, it was simply nothing. What was this place? What happened that made you come here? Pain shot through your temples as if to answer the questions you’d asked, near blinding white hot, threatening to render you motionless altogether. Had you sustained a head injury of sorts?

“Release her at once!”

Another bolt of pain seared across your being. The voice was familiar, ripples of fine dark hued velvet dancing with white silk appearing from nowhere, as it caressed your ears. Who was its owner?, you couldn’t help but wonder as glittering gold sand gathered in a pile around your feet courtesy of a warm breeze. Darkness lingered though small stars slowly began to appear with each echo of the command until a desert spanned for as far as you could see blanketed by Nyx’s cloak of twilight. A full moon stained red threatened to bathe all things in its crimson glow if not for the single figure who stood atop of a mighty twin mouthed dragon.

“I will not repeat myself…Consider this your only and final warning!”

This time pain radiated from around your neck as what was identifiable as large fingers threatened to cutoff your airway. “Ah, but you see, she is rightfully mine by right! Need I remind you of this era’s rules, your highness, for he who lays claim to a female then the property she becomes! Matters not how nor if it was by choice! I have her in my hold currently which makes her the perfect person for the job I have in mind!”

The dragon released an earth shattering roar that would make any who heard deaf, its four eyes aglow with bloodlust as its summoner’s lip curled in a snarl. Seeing either one alone would ensure nightmares to come with its glistening fangs and claws but it was the man wearing the Eye of Horus upon his head that struck you with awe. Wild ebony hair with vermillion tips that faded to violet towards his neck’s nape, a mantle of rich purple billowing behind him that accentuated the amethyst shards within his sharp gaze as it remained locked upon the one you surmised as your captor, skin beautifully kissed by the sun’s rays that shone with subtle hints of sweat as he raised his hand outwards. “All in the land know that she you dare touch is to be by my side as queen so do not play me for a fool! Will or not, I demand you return her at once!”

Queen? You? Confusion filled your chest at his words.

Anger shone brilliantly as his gaze tinted towards pomegranate. As if your uncertainty had wounded him, there was the briefest shadow of sorrow hidden within his gaze as you met it. “You heathen, what have you done her?”

“Well, dear pharaoh, it was clear that you were not going to pull your punches even if I used those little modern century friends of yours. My patience wanes thin already and Zorc the Dark One will be resurrected soon enough once I offer up her life force!” Another hand rose to take hold of your chin, raising it roughly so that the length of your throat was exposed. “Try not to take this personally, my dear, you were simply a means to an end! Fear not though, your memories shall be returned to you once his highness speaks his name!”

Both summoner and beast bellowed towards the night sky as the moon behind them darkened. Those were your only warnings as the world you barely knew was plunged into darkness once again courtesy of a dagger which first swiped across your throat then buried itself deep within your chest until its metallic hilt met your flesh.

Breaths hissed from between your clenched teeth as you sat upright in bed, hands leaping to your throat and chest while staring wide eyed up through the skylight window to the full blood moon eclipse. Horror filled you like a spreading poison when hearing a voice call out a name which unlocked a hidden gate that was buried within your mind. Faces and places swam past you like a movie reel until they came to a screeching halt upon an altar where the shadow sourcing from a single being became two. The cellphone that was on your bedside table began to ring but you were too numb to move let alone speak. Somehow you knew where to go, where you should be, and who was calling out to you.

Sunlight threatened to blind you while stepping off the boat, feet running the second they met the blistering sand despite the shouts of local deterring you from venturing below. You’d used every string and connection you knew to get here so quickly but it would all be worth it. At the end of a seemingly never ending stone staircase, after stepping around the slumped figure of a white headed man, you found the golden upside down pyramid laying behind a tricolored teen who lay unconscious with several others. The stone tablet before you seemed to hum with power as you approached, a single golden beam appearing from the carving’s apex to brush your brow, before it fell silent; all of your memories had been restored already, meaning its task had nothing to do with you. Your hands carefully picked up the ancient artifact, caressing it gingerly and carefully as if it would shatter, raising it to press one of its sides against your cheek. A single teardrop fell from your eye to splatter across the priceless gold.

“By the ancient gods,” the voice from your dream sounded as if he were standing in front of you instead, “how have you come here?”

“Nothing upon the earth nor in the heavens could keep mine love from you, my pharaoh.” You whispered back while returning it to the young teen who stirred. Though you couldn’t physically see him, there was no mistaking the gaze which seemed to watch with suspense as you walked back towards the staircase. The urge to take the Millennium Puzzle came over you in a tidal wave yet you retrained yourself. It was not for you to possess and his task within this time was not yet complete. “Come seek me out once you have gathered your senses about you.”

And without another backwards glance, you vanished back up the staircase.

The gentle rocking of the boat would lull anyone into slumber but you instead found solace upon starboard’s bow with the wind teasing the sensitive skin of your face. Scents of water lily and driftwood filled the night’s cool air which quenched most of the day’s relentless heat. A soft smile made to raise your lips if not for the presence which manifested behind you.

They didn’t speak, nor did you, as the shadow that stretched across the wood underfoot became taller. It was dominating, radiating with power unseen in this century’s time, yet it seemed to not show its fangs as it came closer.

One step…

two steps…

four steps…

And it came to a stop just short of reaching where you stood. Yet they still did not speak nor did they attempt to touch you.

This time a smile did grace your lips as the lids of your eyes slowly closed. Masculine sandalwood now tickled your nose in place of playful yet faint scents of modern deodorant which was a bit too potent for your personal liking. “Upon the Nile’s shore, where water kisses land, so ever flows my love for you.”

“May by Ra’s grace, our bond be forged in gold.” He spoke softly, gently, as if afraid you were a vision that would disappear if he was too loud. “For not riches nor jewels shine brighter than my beloved. For so long as she remains by mine side, I shall not want for naught.”

“For what is fortune to one such as I when mine eyes behold the greatest treasure one could find?” You faced him fully with a tilt of your being, the banister meeting the small of your back as he crossed the remaining space to wrap both arms around you as if to prevent anyone from stealing you away. Guilt wracked your body as you in turn clung to him.

Along your trip you’d familiarized yourself with the path of his vessel, Yugi Mutuo from Japan, and had felt stricken with self loathe when discovering all that had occurred while your memory was lacking; Pegasus’ Shadow Game, the battle against Marik’s evil, Atlantis, and that you had been unable to assist in any of them left you feeling bitter. Even back in ancient times, the pharaoh had immense strength blessed to him by the gods, but the showcase again and again of it was almost too much for you to take when realizing that strangers had been by his side instead of you.

“My pharaoh, my beloved, my King of Games, forgive this fool of a woman for not finding her way to your side sooner.”

“I am relieved that you did not have to suffer twice. The battle’s path may have turned in an unfavorable direction if you had participated, (Y/n), thus I am relieved to find you unharmed and well.” The pads of his thumbs were quick to wipe away the tears as they spilled down your cheeks, his gaze piercing you with its gemstone hues. “Bakura’s curse was vanquished the moment he was defeated, (Y/n), so do not blame yourself upon something that was not within your control.” He appeared just as you had dreamt and more as he encouraged your eyes to open with the softest of brushes that were his fingers against your eyelids. Pale moonlight accentuated each plane of his face, revealing masculine edges yet smoothed over by the lingering plush that was from living within the modern century, though it did little to conceal the physique which was testimony of endless trainings both in combat and magical. A black racer back tee failed to conceal the lean build he sported, shoulders and upper chest showcased thanks to the fabric’s tightness, and recognizable bottoms ended where pointed boots began. Leather studded bands around his biceps and wrist did little to deter his movements, matching the choker around his throat. The expression upon his features though was foreign as he retreated a step. “Forgive my appearance, for it is not entirely my own.”

“My pharaoh, frankly I would not care if your vessel was a giant purple dinosaur.” Your hand waved dismissively when his head tilted slightly, unable to stop a giggle from sounding. Pride filled you while cupping his face between both your palms, exhaustion appearing within his gaze as you brought him closer so that your foreheads were touching. “It matters not, beloved, all that matters is that you have succeeded in saving the world from Zorc the Dark One. Now you may finally know peace as the kings before you have.”

Regret wafted off of him in waves as he removed your hands, gaze becoming hooded. “I am in need of rest, yes, yet my duty upon this matter is not yet finished.”

You listened carefully and intently as he told of one final duel he needed to partake within. This time it would be against his vessel. Understanding filled you when noting how he glanced over his shoulder towards the cabin where the boy’s companions sounded from, your fingers lightly brushing against his own when he hesitated to answer the call of a name which wasn’t his. “Go to them. It will not be long before they must accept your destiny leads somewhere they cannot follow.” Though his fingers and hand was larger than your own, it did not deter you from raising it so as to brush your lips across his knuckles before placing his palm against your chest where he could feel your heartbeat. “You have my word that I will not wander, pharaoh, have faith in my words as a promise to remain seen yet unseen while going forth from here.”

Sharp gemstone eyes closed briefly as he nodded, slowly allowing the call to cause his vessel to take retreating steps, until he disappeared from sight towards the other end of the boat.

Watching him go threatened to fill you with loneliness and neglect but it was not you who needed comforting tonight. No. He deserved to be with the friends he’d made despite you wanting not to waste another second not within his presence. You’d managed this second life’s time so far without him.

What was one more night?

Little were you aware of how many times he came to a stop outside your door as the moon traveled its way across the night sky. It was close to the four o’clock hour that the softest of sounds woke you. No explanation was needed as you crossed the borrowed room’s space to unlock the door, your hand gently collecting his own and drawing him inside before closing it once more. The shadows seemed to gather around him as he silently followed you to the bed, not stopping nor saying anything as you laid him down first. Words weren’t necessary as the heaviness within his gaze met yours. One of your hands rose to begin slowly combing through his tricolored tresses while the rest of you settled in a comfortable position beside him, silently encouraging him to relax by coaxing his head to rest against your upper chest. The invitation was accepted and he soon had nestled his face into your being with arms wrapped around your waist.

And that was all it took for the mighty Nameless Pharaoh of Egypt to finally break. His hold became tight as near scalding droplets of liquid splattered across your skin as he choked on his own words. He told of everything from how his initial emergence from the puzzle frightened the poor boy who’d completed it, how he had selfishly grown attached to the boy’s friends and became envious of the simplistic lifestyle, of how each adversary he met would nearly result in the harm of those he’d come to care for, the frustration he felt when someone was made victim because of his choices or actions, when he’d felt helpless against silver tongued opponents who nearly made him lose sight of his path. Your hold didn’t wane or falter as he spoke, uncaring of how long it took until his words ran out, internally relishing every one that passed through his lips. It had been so long since either of you had spoken freely, let alone held one another in such a way, and though he’d tried his best to keep a clam and neutral exterior, you of all people knew just how self destructive such a face could become.

He’d had no one in this time to comfort or encourage him in the way he needed. No one had been capable to ensuring his confidence within himself was put back together when he felt lacking. There had been new friendships to help him cope with his missing memories but with them came a lacking of understanding from both parties. Several times it seemed as though he was at a loss for what he’d needed in some scenarios, despite his and their best efforts to find solutions, but that’s outside of the here and now.

Silence hung in the air once he’d finished, though it was as weightless as a feather, yet it settled over the two of you in an invisible blanket which stemmed off the chill of night. Your eyes drifted closed as his breaths slowed to an even rhythm against your skin. The tension which had been radiating off his form since your skin touched was replaced by calm acceptance. His mind must have been racing with the coming dawn that it had robbed him, and his vessel, of slumber. Even if this was all you could do for him you’d gladly accept this role.

Dawn filtered through nearby window as he finally stirred, bathing him in its colorful glow as he rose to sit upright. You would wake soon, that much he could tell from how you shifted due to his warmth now missing from your embrace. Ever so gently he brushed his lips against your temple then across each of your knuckles. The beauty he saw as you teetered on the line between dreamland and consciousness threatened to take his breath away but it could not be ignored that he had one more mission to accomplish upon this plane of existence. His turned back, however, made him miss the tear which slid down your cheek as with a crack of your eye allowed your to witness him depart.

Dressing took minimal effort, your belongings next to none since you no longer would need them come tonight, and you carefully followed the small group who were his comrades below the earth to where the Millennium items were to slumber. It seemed that none noticed you slipping within the designated space that was to be his final stage and watched with awe as not one figure but two appeared from the shadow which had been one.

With breathless abandon, you watched the duel’s twists and turns earn mixed reactions from those who watched; the tomb keepers would be freed from their ancient family duty to watch over the Nameless Pharaoh’s tomb until his return and those who were teens within high school couldn’t decide who to cheer for yet they all soon began cheering for the one named Yugi. Magic cards were activated, trap cards triggered, summons of monsters completed or prevented…

Until his life points were nonexistent.

Your breath came out in a soft exhale as defeat permeated the air. It seemed as though the other spectators were struck by the turn of events, judging from how they stared wide eyed up at the pair who crossed the space to stand mere inches apart instead of feet. Even from here you felt the waves of relief coming off the pharaoh as he offered his hand towards the boy who looked ready to weep. Whispers almost too soft for you to hear filled the air, encouraging you to come forward from your hiding place, and steeled yourself as you stepped out from the column’s shadow you’d been within. A collective exclamation rose as you remained locked upon your target, the platform which had been stage for his final duel, uncaring as a few demanded you explain how you’d come to be here. Coming to a stop beside him, you offered him a smile after bowing lowly. “Beloved, you fought valiantly.”

An uproar sounded from those who watched, despite the attempts of the tomb keepers, but silence fell as his hand rose to tuck a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear. The boy beside him was watching with wide eyed surprise as your introduction was followed by explanation of Bakura’s curse upon your memories which had wiped them clean until recently.

Your hand offered its palm to him as another smile raised your lips when he took it. “Thank you for taking care of him as he traversed upon such a path.” Hesitation filled his gaze when you drew him forward, your other hand cupping the side of his face so that his gaze wouldn’t wander from yours. “Your friendship shall not be forgotten, Yugi. Allow me to take my place at his side now as he prepares to cross the final threshold.”

He didn’t object or intervene despite his friends who spoke against your actions while releasing him, the woman tomb keeper explaining the final steps which the pharaoh needed to take in order to transcend. “I can tell you mean a lot to him, (Y/n), though I probably should say that I had my suspicions someone out in the world was looking for him ever since we returned. I’m glad you found him.”

Those who had gathered as the great stone slabs parted to reveal golden light which bathed the pharaoh in its light. His modern clothes were replaced by the ancient wardrobe you’d been more familiar with down to the royal purple mantle which billowed in the soft breeze coming from beyond the gate. Ever so faintly you could see those who had passed on during the battle centuries ago waving and awaiting the two of you with welcoming smiles. Tanned fingers gently laced themselves with yours, which you gave a gentle squeeze, your gaze rose to meet his own to find them practically glittering. Somehow your own clothes had undergone a change as well to resemble those which you’d once donned. A bend of his being brought his lips to your cheek, earning a soft hum from within your chest and a blush as he whispered how beautiful you looked, before turning his attention to those who watched with tearful gazes.

Farewells were said, smiles exchanged, your fingers giving his a squeeze as the minimal window which would allow him to finally crossover began to shorten. “Atem, my beloved, it is time. If we do not go now then we may remain within limbo.” You shared a glance with him back over your shoulders, then together the two of you stepped through the gateway.

“As I embark on this next adventure, I am thankful to the gods that we have reunited.” He brought your joined fingers up to his mouth as the golden light grew, nearly blindingly so, his lips descending upon your own when you sighed blissfully. “Let us go…together.”

[spotaus]

please know whenever you give any ichor lore in either tags or a post, i am going

i love love love lore drops.

Wooo!!!! It is so freeing to hear that, thank you haha!!! Everytime you rb or ask or smth I always kinda just go

AND. Y'know- ya know what this gives me the chance to do??? LORE DUMP (putting it under the cut because it might get long lmao-)

I went back on my old phone (basically my art storage system) to find some old art of Ichor!! Like, the four pieces above are not completely Canon anymore, (I couldn't draw Paps to save my life 😭) but this was from before I had decided how Ichor and Reward were created!

The first one labeled 'Judgement' is actually a pretty accurate portrayal of New God aged Ichor! This was when I had it planned that Ichir was the God of judgement abd he made some poor choices so Balance chipped a piece of his power into Reward and Ichor had to raise him. That's no longer the case, but the design transfers over! In the second one 'Punishment and Reward' you can see that Balance's Halo was going to be on Ichor too! This is technically something he *could* manifest still but he deeply chooses not to. The design from 'Eclipse Era' for Ichor is 100% accurate. This was the Era when Ichor ran away from the god's to go stop a prophecy + ended up falling in love and having a full mortal family. (They- they're dead as hell but uhhh-) Then the training fits were scrapped, but the concept continues. Ichor has to train to keep himself healthy since his godly magic is weakened, abd Reward drags him out to do little exercises once they're trapped in the Catacombs!

Another thing is this one specific tree? (Looks goofy af, ignore that- it's meant to be a weeping willow but fluffier lmao-) It's on a ridge a few mountains away from Mt. Ebbot, overlooking a mountain village that Ichor always went back to. It's their sacred tree, but Ichor was the one who made it so different. Smth smth his blood got to the roots once. But basically if he's mourning, if he's celebrating, if he has any big occassion he goes to this tree. It would break his heart if this Tree was ever cut down or severely damaged by anything that wasn't Weather related.

And (old art again, rip my skills-) once upon a time, Ichor could manifest Dragon Features from his magic! Now this translates into a Canon ability to turn into a dragon-ish beast form, but that's more his bones reshaping and less Gold Magic Manifestations lol. He's always had a connection to dragon-vibes, and because he doesn't use gaster-blasters, he *is* the blaster. Only when he needs it though. (And with the chains he can't change shape at all, so that's only a post-story kinda thing or pre-chains thing lol-)

I also have another scheme cooking (two, actually?) One with his Sons (the immortal ones that exist in Catacombtale and escape into the Omega Timeline if that happens-) and the other is Regarding the first drawing I ever made of him and doing a comparison lol- Hoping this was fun lore in the meantime!!

[lady-harrowhark]

Locked Tomb Characters as Taylor Swift Songs

hey there tlt demons, it’s me... your local taylor swift girl. credentials include over 15 years of swiftie experience and a well documented primal urge to infodump about both the locked tomb AND taylor swift. more under the cut because this thing is a beast. let’s get into it.

(update: Spotify link added in the comments)

Gideon: The Story of Us. Listen. Gideon is a Speak Now girlie. I will die on this hill. Everything is so cinematic - the fireworks, the kissing in the rain, it’s just like her comic books! She will absolutely be singing this album in the shower. And if you have anything to say about it? Sucks to have shitty taste, my dude, sounds like you hate fun. 

Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room And we're not speaking and I'm dying to know Is it killing you like it's killing me yeah I don't know what to say since the twist of fate When it all broke down and the story of us Looks a lot like a tragedy now... next chapter

Harrow: Hoax. Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “How dare you assign her a song not from Reputation?” And aesthetically, I hear you. She probably wants you to think that, actually. But while Harrow can identify with Reputation’s themes of the juxtaposition of public persona and private identity, she viscerally rejects the sweetness and vulnerability of Rep era tracks like Call It What You Want and New Year’s Day. But Folklore... Folklore is for abject despair. Hoax is Harrow crying into the mattress, remembering what she’s done. Hoax is “I still love you.”

My only one, my smoking gun, my eclipsed sun This has broken me down My twisted knife, my sleepless night, my win-less fight This has frozen my ground Stood on the cliffside, screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in

Ianthe: Better Than Revenge. We’re not supposed to like this one. In theory, the description of “Diss track about ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend, written by an 18 year old” doesn’t really hold any appeal for me. But when you listen to it, you can’t help but love it in all its nasty glory. Sometimes women are mean, and I need a song to scream to about it. (Ianthe thinks she’s doing Dress with Harrow. She’s not.)

I never saw it coming, wouldn’t have suspected it I underestimated just who I was dealing with She had to know the pain was beating on me like a drum She underestimated just who she was stealing from

Coronabeth: Mirrorball. Corona is an expert at reflecting back what people want to see. She studies military history for Judith, learns all about shuttles for a boy who wouldn’t look twice at her, she pulls off the long con of convincing the empire she’s a necromancer. She’s a mirrorball.

I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze, I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me Because I'm a mirrorball, I’m a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

Palamedes: Champagne Problems. Oof. You must have known this one was coming, right? Unlike most of the songs on this list, Palamedes is the subject of this song rather than the narrator. You know who the narrator is.

Your mom's ring in your pocket, my picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it: champagne problems ... One for the money, two for the show I never was ready, so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

Camilla: I’m Only Me When I’m With You. A personal favorite of mine that doesn’t get nearly the love it deserves. If this isn’t her and Palamedes, I don’t know what to tell you. And after the events of NtN... um...

And I know everything about you, I don't wanna live without you I'm only up when you're not down Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground It's like no matter what I do Well, you drive me crazy half the time The other half I'm only trying To let you know that what I feel is true And I'm only me when I'm with you

Nona: A Place in This World. Nona Palona. Kiddie. Junior. No-No. Cutie Pie. Lil Bits. Was there ever any other choice for her? This song is the perfect blend of slice-of-life and the inherent isolation of Figuring Out What Your Deal Is. Some people’s deal is being the soul of a murdered planet in someone else’s body, you know? It happens.

Got the radio on, my old blue jeans And I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve Feeling lucky today, got the sunshine Could you tell me what more do I need? And tomorrow's just a mystery, oh yeah, but that's okay ... Oh, I’m just a girl, trying to find a place in this world

Pyrrha: Right Where You Left Me. Look, I’m sorry about this one. But if you really expected me to pick anything else for the woman who’s spent the past ten thousand years watching every person she’s ever loved leave her behind in one way or another? That’s on you.

Friends break up, friends get married Strangers get born, strangers get buried Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me Matches burn after the other Pages turn and stick to each other Wages earned and lessons learned But I'm right where you left me ... You left me no choice but to stay here forever

Alecto: My Tears Ricochet. This song never fails to give me the chills when I listen to it in the car. Taylor’s ghost story metaphor for being taken advantage of by her record label until she was forced to leave maps on eerily well to John’s betrayal. I’ve been trying to be succinct in my lyrical excerpts, but fuck it, Alecto can have two stanzas, as a treat.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears

John: Dear John. Honestly, any number of characters could be the narrator here, but I’m primarily thinking of Alecto. Mercy was right about putting an age limit on the Lyctor trials: “don’t you think nineteen’s too young?” John is also getting two stanzas to better exemplify the extent of my rage here. Fingers crossed for Alecto shining like fireworks over his sad empty town in AtN!

Well maybe it's me and my blind optimism to blame Maybe it's you and your sick need to give love then take it away And you'll add my name to your long list of traitors who don't understand And I'll look back and regret how I ignored when they said "Run as fast as you can"

You are an expert at sorry, and keeping the lines blurry Never impressed by me acing your tests All the girls that you've run dry have tired, lifeless eyes 'Cause you burned them out But I took your matches before fire could catch me, so don't look now I'm shining like fireworks over your sad, empty town

Kiriona: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve. Right up front, I will acknowledge that this is a much different context than Taylor wrote this song about. However, the imagery is so spot on for Kiriona’s rage. Taylor was right to save this one for the 3 AM version of Midnights, not because it doesn’t deserve to be on the standard album, but because it would have completely overshadowed every other track with the rawness of her anger and regret. I feel physically ill every time I hear the line “Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first.” And Kiriona’s no stranger to giving someone your whole life and realizing they didn’t even want it. 

God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time

Mercymorn: Anti-Hero. I feel this one so strongly that I have actually already made a separate post comparing the lyrics to specific Mercy quotes (and I kind of want to do the same for Kiriona… hmmm). Unlovable Mercymorn, critical Mercymorn... it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me At tea time, everybody agrees I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Augustine: The Archer. You know, I almost gave him Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince just for the drama and scheming, but I think The Archer captures the genteel façade overlaying his true feelings. It brings to mind the conversation during Dios Apate (minor) where he says he wants to believe that he could’ve stopped Alfred if he’d had just a bit more time. Ouch. 

All the king's horses, all the king's men Couldn't put me together again 'Cause all of my enemies started out friends Help me hold onto you

G1deon: I Knew You Were Trouble. We know it, we love it, we laughed ‘til we cried over the version with goat noises edited in. He knew he was playing with fire, and look how things ended up.

I knew you were trouble when you walked in So shame on me now Flew me to places I'd never been Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground

Wake: Cowboy Like Me. A country ballad? For Wake? It’s more likely than you think. Cowboy Like Me is the story of two swindlers who didn’t mean to actually catch feelings... sound familiar?

Now you hang from my lips Like the Gardens of Babylon With your boots beneath my bed Forever is the sweetest con I've had some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me And I’m never gonna love again

Pash: philosophical exemption

Judith: Enchanted. I knowwww, it seems a little frilly and glittery for Judith, but hear me out. How starstruck she was over Marta, how working with her for the first time did absolutely nothing to change that. Thinking of no one else until she’s able to suggest her for her cavalier, secretly reading, ahem, “materials” and dreaming about making things different between them... Yeah, Judith was definitely enchanted to meet her.

This is me praying that This was the very first page Not where the story line ends My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon I was enchanted to meet you

Cytherea: Look What You Made Me Do. The old Cytherea can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Cause she’s dead! I love this for Cyth, not just for surface level content, which certainly fits, but for the context of the song. When LWYMMD was first released, the public consensus was that it was a response to the whole Kim/Kanye situation. In the years since, though, it’s become public that behind the scenes, Taylor was struggling to regain control of her work from her record label. With that context, much of the lyrics and music video reflect that conflict, rather than the one everyone assumed. In the same way, Cytherea’s motivation and actions look much different through the lens of what we learn throughout the next two books.

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time I got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!

Dulcie: Bigger Than The Whole Sky. This one hurts. In a series full of tragedy, the fact that this delightful menace never got to meet Palamedes and Camilla in person is enough to break my heart. Our sweet little malign fairy, who has never done anything wrong in her life. 

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye You were bigger than the whole sky You were more than just a short time And I've got a lot to pine about I've got a lot to live without I'm never gonna meet What could've been, would've been What should've been you

Abigail: September. Not a Taylor Swift original, but her folksy cover of the classic is so soft and cozy. Comforting, in that Abigail way. If she and Magnus danced to this one, I can’t blame him for keeping a scrap of her dance card.

Our hearts were ringin' In the key that our souls were singin' As we danced in the night, remember How the stars stole the night away

Magnus: Starlight. More songs for saving dance cards! I can imagine him both sweetly dancing with Abigail AND being a huge dork and embarrassing Isaac and Jeannemary to this one. (Noooooo Magnus, don’t dance to Taylor Swift!)

And I said, "Oh my, what a marvelous tune" It was the best night, never would forget how we moved The whole place was dressed to the nines And we were dancing, dancing Like we're made of starlight, starlight

Isaac and Jeannemary: Long Live. Because that’s what they should’ve been able to do, ugh. I sort of meant this as a joke but when I went to copy the lyrics over I started getting all teary-eyed, so, you know. It’s fine.

Will you take a moment? Promise me this That you'll stand by me forever But if, God forbid, fate should step in And force us into a goodbye If you have children some day When they point to the pictures Please tell 'em my name Tell 'em how the crowds went wild Tell 'em how I hope they shine Long live the walls we crashed through I had the time of my life with you

Cassiopeia: Vigilante Shit. I love the image of Cassy as a contract lawyer vigilante, but I also love the implications in this song that she was working behind his back with his wife Alecto. Gotta make sure she gets the Benz in the divorce, and if the FBI get involved? Well, that’s out of her hands at that point [sips coffee].

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some She had the envelope, where you think she got it from? Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

Anastasia: Haunted. The church bells! The drama! So very Ninth. With Haunted, we get both her devastation at “misapprehending” the ascension process and her growing horror at the ways she’s begun to realize they’ve all been manipulated.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Something's gone terribly wrong You're all I wanted Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

[reginrokkr]

◜In the perpetual meantime of sheltered eternity, most are content to live and not to dream. But in the hidden corners where the gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.◞

𝐗𝐗. It's hard to believe that even these words would have an actual meaning one day, and it seems to slowly come in full circle with a very special weapon lore. This is just one example of other crumbs spread through the story that bring more context while leaving unanswered questions behind all the same.

“O Leader of Khaenri’ah’s noble families, the crimson shadow of the moon has long fallen into the abyssal sky, your bloodline too has gone blind in one eye after all.” [...] This was during the faraway times when the shine of the pitch-black sun did not yet cover the whole underground, and the ancient honorable clan ruled the vast kingdom.

The thought that the bloodline of the king of this time is notorious for being blind in one eye during the era of the Crimson Moon Dynasty —gentle reminder that this was when birds had yet to be classified between wild and otherwise as per human standards and, as the first dynasty of Khaenri'ah, this is set around the Apocalypse— and that the last king of Khaenri'ah during the Eclipse Dynasty is depicted to have one eye also is really interesting. It comes to speak how long-lasting this clan was.

The priests, stubborn and old-fashioned, convinced the decrepit muddle-headed king to believe that the Crimson Moon’s corpse up in the sky was the master of all, dictating and governing everything; Because the color and lustre of the moonlight was flowing through the veins of the ordinary mortal, the source of the darkness that was hidden at the abyssal bottom too must be the Crimson Moon.

For being a kingdom whose foundation is their lack of belief in gods —and profanity, as such—, it's curious to see how these people place their faith in other asters, entities or abstract concepts such as the Crimson Moon in this case, but the Abyss later on as well. The notion that the lustre of the moonlight is known for flowing through these people's veins brings me back to the Pale Princess and Six Pygmies tale that talks about the Kingdom of the Moonlight Forest, described to be born with fair skin, light-colored hair and bright blue eyes. If we're to think about Gold who lived during this era and the possibility that Albedo was created in her image, this description from the book may have some credence in the real lore. Moreover, there is another character connected to Khaenri'ah that hits the mark with these descriptive traits, that is Dain.

It is also curious that the darkness that is hidden at the very bottom part of the Abyss is believed to stem from the Crimson Moon, which isn't entirely far-fetched. This moon is highly likely one of the moon sisters that passed away in the disaster that befell then (although it's inconclusive if it's the same moon corpse that shines in Teyvat or is a different one) and, as per Skirk's words, those who die leave curses behind. These words stand true if we take examples such as Orobashi or what Hu Tao described that happened prior to the establishment of the funeral parlor.

As such, it was only proper for the King of Mankind to name himself after the Crimson Moon. Just as the light and flame of the two realms, ruling over impermanent fate.

The concept of two realms is highly intriguing, as well as the two of them harboring a light and flame. These realms are probably different from the realms mentioned in the event that happened in Enkanomiya, which mentioned the Light Realm (or realm of the elements / Vishap Realm), Human Realm and Void Realm. The measure of these two realms seems to be different in order to differentiate them. Nevertheless, it is interesting to bring up the mention of a beast realm as per Narzissenkreuz / René's claim that someone opened it.

Thus, the humans who sought transcendence built countless magnanimous towers, and prayed upon the long dead Crimson Moon to bring them salvation.

The transcendence term isn't new, specially when thinking back what the Crystal said during the Caribert AQ— words claiming about becoming a transcendent one. And perhaps not unrelated to this, within the neo-human project of the Narzissenkreuz Ordo there was a manner of transcendence achieved by Jakob and René, as their bodies had a composition that is similar to that of Khvarena but opposing at the same time and different to Carter, a normal mortal. Moreover, considering that the form Jakob took is that of an Iniquitous Baptist and another NPC from the questline of Khvarena of Good and Evil took pride in becoming an Abyss Herald, alongside the fanaticism that was present in Khaenri'ah for the Abyss, it isn't unreasonable to think that for these people, transcendence is being one of these creatures (mages, heralds, baptists). Whether this is the transcendence they sought or something different is inconclusive, albeit not incompatible.

Another point of interest is the premise of praying for salvation from an unknown variable: it could be that these people live in a more hospitable place one day, devoid of the dangers that spill from the Abyss and the overall poor state of the land that is incompatible with life; it could be from the very gods who the founders of Khaenri'ah ran away from; the concept of fate; who knows if a combination of all of them or an entirely different aspect yet to be introduced.

[This lasted] Until the astronomers, who were shunned as heretics, glimpsed the source of the fate of everything in the world in the reflection of the false sky, [This lasted] Until suspicion and anger grew like an inextinguishable wildfire, and ravaged the dreamless land, ultimately reaching the moon-colored high palace…

The false sky. Another concept introduced very early on in the story during the Unreconciled Stars event that chronologically-wise, it's been known about for even longer. And yet, this very knowledge seems to be one of the reasons why these astronomers were shunned as well as one of the reasons why something occurred in Khaenri'ah. Perhaps related to this newly-learned knowledge that people couldn't accept, that shook the foundations of everything they believed in. Whatever happened at this moment of time, it caused the nigh-extinction of this race of people.

In honor to the prelude of this post, the confirmed notion that Khaenri'ah is a dreamless land and that its people dream of dreaming perhaps because they can't to begin with. It's interesting when putting them in juxtaposition with those who live in Teyvat, maybe because they live "easier" lives if compared to Khaenri'ah, as they're submitted to the gods and their help which, unfortunately, comes at a steep price.

By the time the pitch-black sun shone upon all, the name of the Crimson Moon faded just like its color, and its tainted remains were only left with the title of Balemoon. No matter if they were the “impure” who suffered the curse, or if they were the “spotless” yet untouched by fate, no one still claimed themself to be a follower of the moon’s corpse.

Another mystery is explained, even if partially, when the notion that the opposite of impure who can't suffer from the same curse (of the wilderness), allegedly the pure-blood Khaenri'ahns are untouched by fate. Considering all the layers of relevance fate has in Teyvat, going as far as being connected to the Heavenly Principles and the constellations (except for Neuvi at the very least), this is groundbreaking to even think about. At the same time, I can't help but wonder what exactly makes the pure-blood Khaenri'ahn pure-blood besides not being tainted by fate or by the curse.

Only very few managed to evade the clan-extinguishing disaster, and hid themselves in the shadows where the Black Sun could not reach, waiting for the Crimson Moon to offer recompense in the name of revenge. But in the end, that so-called recompense had not yet arrived when the Black Sun too fell due to the same foolishness and arrogance. When the destruction came again, the only one left laughing was the moonlight that fell upon the sun’s shadow of which only ashes remained.

It's interesting the thought that besides the astronomers branded as heretics for acquiring the knowledge of the sky being false, there are others of this race of people —the few who survived— that wanted nothing to do with the Eclipse / Black Sun dynasty and that whatever happened, they want to seek revenge on them. This is further demonstrated with the personification of, supposedly, the Crimson Moon laughing at the Eclipse Dynasty fall when the Cataclysm happened.

“Fate, o Fate, terrifying and pale-white fate, why would you go so far as to submit to the savage and wilful usurping monarch,” “If the corpse of the Balemoon has already anchored death upon you, then what meaning is there in seeking revenge for old blood feuds,” “If the fate she has woven mocks us so, then there is no harm for us to loudly mock fate too,” “Until the fragmented shadows of the Cinder Sun incinerate the old world, until the Crimson Moon witnesses the pure, spotless break of dawn.”

Lastly, it intrigues me the prospect that something abstract as fate isn't one and the same, but it differs depending on who weaves it or on the entity it submits to. From Dain's perspective, it's particularly sad the thought that he was searching for his destiny alongside the abyss twin when they found each other in Sumeru. The reason being not because he had one and lost it alongside the kingdom's fall, but more because... as a pure-blood Khaenri'ahn, he never had a fate to begin with. Which in a way can be positive considering all the problems fate gives in this world and at the hands it is enacted, and inspiring coming from him to be master of his own fate as he wishes on everyone else and that he's actively working on.

[obraveyouth]

❛ isn’t it warming you, the world going up in flames? ❜

❝ △ &. 𝐡𝐨𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

transcription  of  ballads  and  oral  tradition  full  of  fable  and  mythos  was  the  least  unerring  way  to  transmit  the  chronicle  of  the  world’s  populace     —     pieces  of  hoodwinked  certitude  solely  foretold  by  the  battlefield’s  conqueror  in  a  triumph  scribed  in  slain  ichor.      when  was  not  the  world  flickering?      when  wasn’t  link’s  prerecorded  destiny  paved  in  carnage  and  slaughter?     ( it  always  had  been  and  as  forebode,  would  always  be  just  so ):     balsam  poplars  wept  a  fallen  hero’s  hymn  of  spring  born  viridescent    ( all  hoary  and  clareta ):     vernal  equinox  gave  cloudburst  of  damp  cotyledon  and  sun  beamed  achromatic  tributary  flowed     ,     as  sanctified  hylia  scripture  in  the  ever  revered  and  ever  worshipped  hidden  scared  realm  of  golden  goddesses  and  a  mortal  worn  deity.    a  courage  baring  luminary  written  out  of  the  ancient  gospel  narrative    ( a  holy  text  he’d  never  desired  to  be  apart  of ):     casted  aside  from  his  known  existence  by  the  completion  of  a  role  bounded  soul  but  a  flesh  and  bone  unshackled  to  legislation  nor  homeland.  itinerant  woven  core  served  as  remnants  of  a what  if eulogy.

femme  fatale  sprouted  verity  as  bethlehem  exclaimed  praises  of  a  newly  green  clad  incarnated  savior,  a  brave  adolescent  and  a  proud  beatific  eyed  beast.  that  is,  her  eyes  spoke  of  life  and  ruin    ( of  desert  flora  and  a  million  ghost  eyes ):     a  look  of  a  bygone  paradisal  era  once  gulped  in  earnest  by  a  harsh  solar  radiation  that  held  the  comforts  of  battle  and  home.     ❝ but  wha  can  i  do  of  it  but  extinguish  da  embers.  no  betta  would  i  be  than  any  otha  if  i  gave  into the  worst  parts  of  me. ❞     perhaps     ,     link     ,     too  had  a  bit  more  warfare  than  peaceful  aspiration  inside.      perhaps  perpetual  viridity  held  more  ache  than  contentment  ( but,  truly,  was  dawn  and  dusk  courage  ever  gratified?  had  he  ever  been? ):     maybe     ,  he  too     ,     wanted  to  see  all  of  golden  creation  burn.      conceivably  who  could  see  fault  in  all  of  his  vexation  and  rightfully  contained  fury.     a  mere  puppet  to  be  used  then  discarded  until  the  kingdom  saw  need  of  him  again     ,     until  destiny  bore  another  of  valorous  pneuma  once  more.     the  hero  of  twilight’s  tombstone  was  already  moss  pelted  prior  to  his  first  breath     ,     a  living  necropolis  of  antiquity.

even  if  link  yearned  for  it     ,     even  if  he  contemplated  it.     proud  green  garb  adorned  proscribed  all  prospects.     for     ,      those  pure  of  heart  could  still  falter     ,     could  still  be  led  astray.      sacrilegious  articulation  may  boil  from  behind  teeth  but  the  aptitude  to  act  in  spite  of anger    ,    hatred    ,    rage    ,     and  abhorrence    —    is  what  made  the  goddesses  newest  chosen  hero   ,     albeit  an  oxymoron  of  a  divine  and  impious  exemplar.      it  had  been  said  that  courage  was  the  magic  that  turns  dreams  into  reality     ,      but  what  if  the  reality  one sought  was  one  steeped  by  the  embrace  of  netherworld  eclipsed  embers?  ❝ da  world  gives  me  nothin’  but  misfortunes.     it  takes  when  ‘m  ‘pposed  ta  give  and  give.     wha  am  i  if  i  stop  givin’     ,      what  am  i  if  i  wanna  be  the  one  ta  set  da  world  ablaze  too? ❞

[comet-soda-lite]

Everything (that I could think of) left unanswered after the TOH finale!

Please feel free to add onto this! I’m sure I’ve missed a ton of stuff!

Regarding the Owl House, Eda, and the Owl Beast:

What are the origins of the Owl House (did Eda build it or did it exist before her)?

What’s the history of Hooty? Was he always a part of the the Owl House or did he move in at some point? Why was a mini-Hooty in the Titan's eye socket??

What's the history of the Portal Door & Key? Who originally made them and how? Who's hands has it passed through over the years?

How did the Portal Door end up buried where Eda found it?

What is the Owl Beast and what's their story? Where are they from, are there more of them, and exactly how powerful are they?

How did the Archivist who trapped the Owl Beast lose the scroll they sealed the beast in?

Does the Owl Beast's consciousness also exist within Lilith now? How??

Regarding the Titans and Collectors:

What was the Demon Realm like during the era of the Titans?

What are the Archivists up to nowadays? What are the specifics of the Archivists' overall mission (like, do they want one of every living being or do they try to freeze whole societies in stasis or what?)? Are they a looming threat for the future?

What are "the stars" like?

Why did the Archivists leave the Demon Realm when there was still one Titan left to kill? Did they even know about King? The Titan Trappers who worshipped the Archivists knew the Boiling Isles Titan had a child, so you would expect the Archivists to know about it too, right?

Were the Archivists even the ones to eventually kill the Boiling Isles Titan? If not, how did the Titan die? What's the exact timeline of events here?

What exactly is the Tower Glyph (the one that King carved on his collar) and where does its magic come from?

Can people use glyphs to perform Collector magic like they can with Titan magic? (I personally think that the Draining Spell was Collector magic, since it was taught to Belos by the Collector, it used unique glyph patterns that don’t match the Titan glyphs, and it also relied on a celestial event—the eclipse—to function!)

Regarding Palisman:

Who did the Bat Queen belong to?

What are the individual backstories of Ghost, Clover, and Emmiline Bailey Marcostimo?

How did Lilith get to keep her palisman when joining the Emperor's Coven and what is their relationship like?

Regarding Evelyn, Caleb, & Phillip, and Gravesfield:

What are the nitty gritty details of the Wittebanes & Evelyn's story?

Is Evelyn a Clawthorne? (We all know the answer is yes, but it's still technically not been explicitly confirmed).

What are the details of Flapjack’s origin? Whose Palisman was he exactly? (My personal guess is that Evelyn carved him for Caleb).

How did Evelyn originally travel back and forth from the Human & Demon Realm? Was it the Portal Door (most likely imo), raw Titan’s Blood, or some other means?

What's the history of the shack in the woods? Does it have any direct relationship to the Owl House? Who used to live there? The Wittebanes? Evelyn?

Who stashed the Titan's Blood in the graveyard?

Regarding Emperor Belos (more like Emperor Boo-los, amiright?):

What is "Artificial Magic" really?

What age was Hunter born at? What does he actually remember from his past?

What’s the story of the previous Golden Guard? How did he die? How much did he figure out about Belos? How much did he tell Darius? How did Darius initially react to Hunter showing up after the previous GG died, looking so similar to his predecessor?

What exactly is Belos' curse?

Was it a consequence of him trying to give himself the ability to use magic by consuming Palisman? Or by drawing glyphs directly on his skin? A combination of the two?

Or was the curse inflicted by some other means entirely, and the Palisman-eating and body glyphs actually came afterwards, solely as a means to stave the curse off? If so, who cursed him? Did he inflict the curse upon himself to give himself power?

Considering all the parallels drawn between the two, does his curse have any actual relationship to or similarities with Eda's curse, or is it just an entirely different thing altogether?

Basically my point is that Belos' curse and his magic (and their exact rules and properties) are super ambiguous and unexplored and I want more clear answers!

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

That post about writers completely re-inventing characters and ignoring continuity and turning them into basically self-insert OC's (which is generally infuriating for fans) got me thinking about times when it actually worked well to totally revamp a character. I think one of the keys is when it's an extremely minor character, and long dead or out of continuity, so fans are less likely to mind. (Readmore, because damn do I ramble a lot.)

Like one of my favorite examples is the Shade, a Silver-Age Flash villain who had a cane who could create shadows:

It's the guy in the top hat, so old school that he hung out with The Fiddler.

Shade had largely fallen out of continuity when he was picked up to be a major character in James Robinson's Starman, where he was reinvented as an immortal being from the Victorian era who had gained supernatural powers from a magical accident. No longer needing the cane, this Shade could control and project shadows. Starman's Shade was also a significantly more interesting and complex anti-hero type, who had adopted Opal City as his home and is willing to defend it. He is dark enough to rip people to pieces with his shadows, but winds up helping the good guys more often than not, even if it's sometimes for his own purposes. The series also delves into his past history through the present, fleshing out his past and origins. Also, he got much hotter:

That probably helped, too. This Shade is so different from the original he may as well be James Robinson's OC, but i can't imagine even fans of the original complaining, he's a very cool character whose profile was raised enough in Starman that he got a solo mini-series. He also appeared in the live action Stargirl TV series as the Robinson version of the Shade, playing a similar role as an amoral anti-hero who might be helpful but can't always be trusted.

Of course, I may be biased, because I love The Shade.

Another example where I'm definitely biased is X-Men's Changeling transforming into Morph on TAS. Changeling was kind of an interesting character, as a former terrorist turned good with a last-minute redemption, but his redemption was a half-assed flashback that retconned his death to revive Xavier. He probably would have been a forgotten footnote in X-Men history if he hadn't been pulled out of mothballs and given a personality overhaul to become Morph, a much more fun, heroic and sympathetic character. I think it says a lot of that all the alternate versions of Changeling that appeared in the comics since TAS (AoA and Exiles) have been clearly based on TAS Morph's "wacky shape-shifter" personality, and literally called Morph rather than Changeling. The alternate version has largely eclipsed the original. That being said, it would be kind of interesting to see 616 Changeling resurrected on Krakoa with more of his original personality intact. He could join X-Force for sneaky shape-shifter espionage stuff now that Mystique is busy with the Council and Destiny. If nothing else, it would be funny to see a former criminal be absolutely appalled at Beast's actions in X-Force because "I thought you were supposed to be the good guys!"

There are examples even with bigger name characters, like Bucky Barnes being famously brought back from the dead in 2005 as a mind-controlled assassin. Despite turning Bucky darker and grittier, the revived Bucky has become something of a mainstay of the Marvel Universe, was featured in several movies, and shared a Disney+ series with Falcon in which they were clearly dating. It probably helped that by 2005, Bucky was just famous for being dead, and not many people were reading old comics from the 40's and 50's, so Winter Soldier could over-write teen Bucky.

And of course, there are major overhauls to even long-standing characters that add depth, like Magneto going from a standard 60's villain to a noble-but-misguided terrorist, Holocaust survivor, and old friend of Xavier. I think most people acknowledge that to be a massive improvement on the character that made him far more interesting and complex.

It probably helps when the characters are taken in a "good" direction, although it can be fun to watch people go dark as well. Grim and gritty Bucky was still a largely sympathetic character, he was just "cooler" (and also alive). But I'm pretty sure absolutely no one liked DC villain Dr. Light being retconned as a rapist in Identity Crisis, even if it made him more threatening. (There was a lot to hate about Identity Crisis). I'm also not super-fond of Josh Williamson giving the original Trickster a come-back only to write him as much nastier than he was before, although at least he didn't become a rapist. Never write James Jesse again, Williamson.

Responses are mixed to Moira McTaggert, another long-dead minor character, being retconned as not only a mutant, but a mutant who has been directing and influencing all of the X-Men's history from behind the scenes. Personally, I'm sad to see one of the X-Men's best known human allies turned into a secretive and manipulative mutant, but I could deal with it until Percy turned her into an evil cyborg that wore a Banshee skin-suit. Percy had better keep his claws off Stevie Hunter, one of the few human X-Men allies left alive. (Also she's totally a congresswoman now).

Overall, I think it depends a lot on how long the character has been out of action and how well the writer uses them, and responses will always be mixed. Of course, these positive examples are not meant to justify the tendency of certain writers to take well-known characters with a long established history and completely ignore it in order to write the shallowest and laziest possible version. Everyone reading this probably has a different writer in mind, and you are all right.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Yeah, it was Bloodmoon Ursaluna. (Disregarding the timeline, though, that thing is a BEAST. He swept my entire team the first time I tried to catch him, even hitting my Ghost-types with his signature move, and almost did so a second time. Also, the whole concept is awesome: I'm always down for eclipse theming. (I like the idea that he's the Ride Ursaluna from PLA, and that the reason he's still alive is because he's Too Goddamn Stubborn To Die.)

"average ursaluna lived 150 years" is false. average ursaluna only lived 60 years. bloodmoon ursaluna, who has been alive since the closing of the second crisis era,

[midnightunderground-hq]

Time stops for no man or beast and we march ever forward. The wheels of fate spin wildly.

Hello, my doves. It’s been some time since we last held correspondence, though my dearest and I have watched over you all for these past few months. Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder, but I’m not here to offer sentimentalities, rather I’m presenting you with several leads for your enjoyment…well, mine, but your consideration. 

001. Our children suffer for the avarice of others. The Black Market has wreaked havoc in your community for years, growing without limits, poisoning the minds of the disenfranchised humans among you and worst of all…turning my children and Hers into commodities. Those behind a velvet curtain have tapped into the inferiority complex of these beautifully mundane creatures, turning them against those twice blessed by yours truly. Some say they deserve empathy, but I cannot spare a single drop. Perhaps, you will approach the matter differently…all I ask is that you excise the Underground of this verdant tree and its poisoned roots. 

002. Be wary, children, of the snake in the grass. How I wish I was allowed to meddle just a little more into these affairs. Seeing as one after the other unfolds, has left us feeling both disappointed and impotent…to see the hatred in these hearts, to be unable to cut the threads being weaved before us…godhood is far more onerous than any of you would understand. Either way, Cicerone and I can only hope the breadcrumbs scattered around you prove fruitful. Goodwin is…a problem— I cannot and shall not reveal any more than that. But fret not, children, the answers stand right before you…you need only take a closer look. 

003. The eclipsed sun will hide behind the moon no more. I’m not sure if you’ve all noticed, but very strange things have been occurring lately; more than the mischievous doings of a wayward Faerie and her cursed companion. There’s something amiss in the air, a thorn in my side and a deadly parasite for others. Audacious creatures will always taint a God’s mercy, and this one child of a bygone era has polluted the well in its entirety. You must understand, they grow stronger with each passing day and if they’re able to remove their shackles, you will be the first to feel their wrath. It is in your best interest to stop this false God.

004. Checkmate, another false prophet has fallen. What a shame it is to watch this unfold. When a thread is woven, braided until it resembles rope and presented to one unlucky person; a thrall in this instance, flying too close to the sun. The former mayor now sits on the hand of a clock, disgraced, stripped of his prestige and soon, he will be stripped of his life. You should all be made aware that the hour draws near, he will become one of the departed and his secrets will be buried with him. Before then, you’re free to speak to this dead man walking, though there’s no guarantee that he would humor any chance at redemption. 

005. If you would like, lend me your sight. While the choices presented above are of utmost importance in my eyes, I sit on another plane and observe as one would an ant farm…if you feel I may have missed something of importance to you— summon me, if you dare…and please feel free to pull another from the pile.

[rosejapanfan]

Is there a way I can submit my own launched series for review? In a land plagued by undying souls shattered into their mortal bodies, an unwilling hero must rise to meet their destined duty to restore the wavering energies of the universe. Eclipse Era of the Beast is my monthly release available on GlobalComix

Sure! Send me a link and I’ll check it out 😀