#maybe it's the chaos of my own imminent wedding making me feel like everyone should just... maybe not do this

[shadowtriovibes]

Request idea - Sebastian and f!mc (any house) spend year 7 Christmas break together at her house where he plans to ask her overprotective father for permission to propose. He knows he needs to be the perfect gentleman the entire time in order to gain her father’s trust but it’s to the point she’s confused and worries something’s wrong because he won’t risk kissing or touching her

Maybe could be a part two to the potioneer’s apprentice or rumor has it?

yes, absolutely yes. i do feel like i need to say though that while i will totally do this, i will probably also shoehorn in about 17 reminders that it's the late victorian era. because of all the things to feel weird about writing, i feel weird writing 18-year-olds getting married.

(explicit consensual sexual content? no worries. marriage? WHOA)

[weasleydream]

A story of love, pain and shitty parents - part 4

The fourth part is finally here, I’m sorry it’s been so long!

To be honest, I’m really disappointed with this chapter, I feel like I haven’t been able to write down what I really wanted to transmit. It was a really important part for me and no matter how bad I think it is, I won’t be able to do better, I’ve made it too personal for that sooo I still hope it’s okay!

As usual feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist 

The first of September was near and it looked like all the students had begged their parents for one last trip at what had become their favourite place in the world. To be fair, Weasley Wizard Wheezes was a beautiful shop, and it looked even more alive now that most of the other shops in Diagon Alley had disappeared. 

“I don’t understand why your name isn’t on the storefront.” Mrs Hoggs, an old lady who couldn’t refuse her grandson any visit here, was looking for a few Sickles in her bag. “I mean, you’ve helped with this shop, right? You should have your part of recognition, that’s all I’m saying.” she added without letting me a second to reply. 

Her eyes fell on the picture that was hanging on the wall right behind me. It had been taken on the inauguration of the shop, and I was squeezed between Fred and George in front of the dream of a life. If Mrs Hoggs was particularly obsessed by the fact that I “didn’t have enough recognition”, she wasn’t the only one wondering why I seemed to be “left on the sidelines”. That was so annoying that even her grandson sighed. 

“Aren’t you bothered? If you want my opinion…” Mrs Hoggs kept babbling. She was so passionate by her one-sided debate that I exchanged an exasperated look with her grandson. “Oh, Mr Weasley!” she suddenly exclaimed at the very moment Fred’s arm wrapped around me. “I was talking about-”

“I know, Mrs Hoggs, I’ve heard that same speech a few times already.”

Fred smiled kindly, and I once more wondered how he would stay so calm in all circumstances. 

“And we don’t need to change the shop’s name for the very good reason that one day, Y/N will be a Weasley too.” 

Fred left with a broad smile on his lips, leaving me alone with a flabbergasted Mrs Hoggs and my shaky legs. Suddenly, my heart was beating harder than ever and I could have sworn my cheeks had never been that red. 

“Can I have my pygmy puff now?”

_ _ _ 

I found Fred lying on the couch, his eyes closed and an arm thrown on his face. Thinking he was sleeping, I silently grabbed the brush I had left on the table and detangled my hair, which were still wet from the hot shower I had just taken. I headed to Fred with the intention to wake him up, but his steady breath and his peaceful attitude made me stop. It was more and more rare that Fred was calm, and no matter how hard they tried to hide it, I knew that both he and his twin were worried sick. About the war, obviously, but I was willing to bet that they were also scared for me. Without realizing it, I had sat just in front of him and modeled my breathing after his. 

“Are you going to watch me like this for long?” Even though his voice was quiet, I jumped and looked away, slightly embarrassed. “Hey, love, come here.”

Fred opened his arms and I curled up against him like a cat. He embraced me and pulled me against his torso as hard as he could without hurting me, and at the moment I wanted nothing but being closer to him. But instead, I murmured in his ear, scared my voice would either show how overwhelmed I was or how desperate. 

“Did you mean it? What you said at the shop, did you really mean it?”

Fred shivered, and a part of my brain realized it was the effect of my voice. 

“Of course I meant it. I love you Y/N, and I think Y/N Weasley sounds more than good.”

I wanted to say so many things, that I loved him too, more than anything else in this world or every other world, that I wanted to be his for the rest of my life, I wanted to find a good joke to avoid expressing my deepest feelings, but I found myself unable to do that. Instead, I smiled, broadly, and I kissed him. 

“Fred, Y/N, are you- Merlin, not again!”

Fred groaned and let go of me, and I got up to face George’s amused look. 

“Don’t you think it’s time for you to find an apartment of your own? I mean, as much as I tolerate you, always walking in on you snogging is getting annoying.”

George was smirking, but in fact, the three of us knew what the situation was. The war was imminent, the terror had taken an important place in our lives and the only future we could see was uncertainty. No matter what he would say, George didn’t want to let us go, nor did Fred and I want to leave. That’s also why talking about a wedding was so strange for me. For all that we knew, we could be all dead within the next month. 

“Is there a reason why you interrupted us?” suddenly asked Fred to break the uncomfortable silence. 

“Actually, yes. Mum is going to kill us if we aren’t at the Burrow in an hour. You know how obsessed she’s been with Harry’s birthday.”

_ _ _ 

Once again, everything happened without me understanding anything. One second, Bill and Fleur’s guests were dancing and laughing, and for the first time in what felt like years I was genuinely smiling and enjoying a dance with Fred, and the second after everything was chaos and everyone was screaming. I didn’t know where George was, and I didn’t have any other choice than to assume he was alright. Fred jumped aside when a green flash of light flew toward him, grabbing my waist before falling on the ground. 

“Leave!” he screamed, gesturing toward the Burrow. 

I shook my head and pushed him out of another flash of light’s way. 

“Y/N, please, I need you to leave!”

To be honest, I didn’t know why I did it. Maybe it was something in Fred’s eyes; this pure terror that made them look almost black, or maybe it was because of the crack of his voice as he was begging me to leave. Maybe it was something else, an instinct that was murmuring that I had something else to do. I didn’t know, but I eventually nodded and gave my back to Fred. By now, a lot of guests had disappeared and I found a way to leave the tent quite easily - without paying attention to the Death Eaters trying to kill everyone, of course. 

And suddenly, I understood. I understood why something had made me leave Fred alone in the danger, I understood why my instinct prevented me from apparating away from the carnage. 

First, it took the form of a reflect, light and almost insignificant, a little golden spot in the darkness. I fixed it, and slowly, the shape of a person appeared. The silhouette was darker than black, and I knew the man’s soul was ten times worse. 

I had thought my hatred would get over my self control. I had spent so much time hating him, promising myself the most terrible of revenges, I had sworn he would die because of what he had done to Fred, and I had imagined this moment a thousand times. But I hadn’t imagined I would walk calmly toward him, toward the man who had tortured me and killed the first person who had ever loved me. I could have never imagined it, yet I was walking toward my father, almost a year and a half after the last time I had been in his presence. 

“I’m surprised.” he spoke up, and I shivered. Too many memories were flooding in my mind, things I had tried so hard to forget. “I thought you would have tried to kill me.”

The acid line I wanted to throw at his face stayed blocked in my throat, and all of sudden I found myself on the verge of crying. I didn’t know why, but I was feeling like I was a little girl again, trying to hold back her tears as her father was walking slowly toward her, a glass of whisky in one hand and a cane in the other. My eyes fell on what had produced the golden light, and I gasped when my necklace shone. Slowly, I lifted my hand, reproducing a gesture I had done a thousand times, except that this time my fingers found nothing.

“I wanted to talk to you.” he said, his voice calm as if he had never done anything to me. As if he had never tortured me. “I wanted to explain.”

He took a step forward and I took three backwards. My breathing was shaky, along with my legs and the rest of my body. For a few seconds, all I could see was the light hitting me, the chimney masked by a veil of tears, Mary bathed in a green light, and then my father’s figure, more terrifying than ever, and too close for my own good. 

“I want to explain why I will destroy everything you ever cared for.”

A hundred of Cruciatus curses would have been less painful than imagining him killing Fred, George, Molly, Arthur and all of those I had ever loved. My hands were shaking and only now did I notice I didn’t have my wand. 

He took a step, and I found myself unable to move. 

“I want you to know why I’ll make you suffer like I suffered.”

Everything else seemed to have disappeared. There was only him in front of me, and the weight of the promise he was making, a weight so heavy that I was suffocating and weakening more and more. 

“You killed the love of my life. I will kill you for that.”

He took another step, and my knees gave up on me. I fell on the ground and cowered, my eyes closed and the sound of my sobs hiding the other sounds. I didn’t see him, but I felt him kneeling in front of me. I desperately tried to regain control, I tried to remember Fred’s blood, Mary’s body, my own pain, but my brain was dizzy and I was unable to move. 

“But  won’t kill you now.” he whispered in my ear. “It would be too easy, don’t you think? I want you to be scared. I want you to wonder when I’ll come back for you. I want you to stop living, I want you to be scared of dying.” 

And, still unable to move, still paralyzed by his hold on me, I bit my lips to stop a scream when his fingers touched my skin, putting the necklace back around my neck. 

“You look like her.” he declared with a quiet voice, the one that had always scared me the most. “You look like your mother.”

“Don’t talk about her.”

It was the first thing I managed to say, the words escaping my mouth despite the lump in my throat. As soon as they echoed in the night, I looked down and tensed, subconsciously waiting for a punishment. It was an old habit, and I doubted I would ever be able to get rid of it. 

“You killed her.” I added, feeling barely braver when he said nothing. 

He laughed with a terrible laugh, maniacal and without an ounce of joy. Only pure insanity. 

“No, you killed her. The Dark Mark killed her. Mary killed her. But me? I just loved her. And you killed her. We were perfect together, and you came between us. You got rid of her, I get rid of you. This is a good deal.”

It felt like I was another person when I noticed I was shaking. I could imagine the way my lips were trembling, the way my hands were hidden in the folds of my dress, and the way my eyes were full of tears. 

“I don’t understand…” I cried out, unable to do anything else than to express how broken I was and to despise myself for being so pathetic. “Mary- Mary was her friend and- you were the one who forbade her… I don’t understand… Please leave me alone, I don’t want to-”

“Oh no! No no no no no!” my father gave his back to me, taking a few steps forwards before turning again and throwing his arms to the sky. “Mary never listened to me! She never listened! She hated your mother, she let her die!” and he laughed, a laughter without life or joy, only insanity. His mouth was twisted in a strange way as if he was going to cry at the same time. “Mary killed her, the Dark Mark killed her, and you killed her.” 

Suddenly, he was dead serious again, the only sign showing any disturbance being the compulsive clenching of his fists. I almost crawled backwards, my eyes never leaving the hand that was holding his wand. 

“Looks like the fun is over. See you soon, Y/N.”

And he disappeared, leaving me alone and shaking on the grass, his silhouette burned in my retina for what I believed was forever. Only now did I realize how hard my heart was beating. It was pounding against my ribcage like a desperate animal trying to escape. I would have done anything to escape too, because my whole body seemed to have become a jail which role was to keep me ready for whenever my father would show up. 

Around me, everything was silent. Too silent, like the calm after the storm. As my brain was getting less clouded, I remembered what had happened before the moment I had ended up in front of my father. For a second, I wondered why the Death Eaters were so silent, then I understood they were gone. I only reacted when voices screamed my name. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N, where are you?”

I walked away, an unpleasant impression of being watched making me shiver. When I reached the first silhouette I had seen, the whole discussion with my father had begun to sink in me, and thousands of questions were invading my head. 

“Y/N?”

George took a few steps toward me, approaching slowly and talking with a small voice, as if he was in front of a wounded animal. Maybe he wasn’t wrong, maybe I was really a wounded animal, fragile and desperate to defend herself until her death which was obviously close. 

Thinking about my death made something crack in me; a wall I had struggled to build and that was supposed to protect me. When the wall completely broke, it stopped containing everything I had kept hidden for years. Every pain, every tear, every scream, it all came back to me with such a vigour that I fell back on my knees and I screamed. 

_ _ _ 

Without a word, Molly handed me a cup of tea in which she had added some firewhiskey. I was squeezed on the couch between Fred and George, still trembling even though sweat was covering my forehead. I didn’t even notice the few drops that fell on my dress when I lifted the cup, nor did I notice Fred’s arm around me. I didn’t see the concerned look exchanged between Arthur and Molly either, all of that because I was lost in my thoughts. My father had said so many things, but all of this couldn’t be true, right? 

“Your necklace,” murmured Fred. “Did he give it back to you?”

I promptly yanked it out with the very strong feeling that it had left a burn on my skin. My eyes fell on my closed fist in which I was clenching and something, an image, came back from the depths of my memory. Something that looked like a book under George’s arm as he was looking for the place where he had hidden Fred. A book I had never seen afterwards, because I had refused in the first place and then because I had forgotten it. A book that had to be pretty important for George to take him with him in the emergency. 

“The book.” I murmured. Fred shifted, Molly looked away. Something was wrong. “You still have it, right? I want to read it.”

“There’s nothing important in this book.” said George, his voice a bit too low for him to be honest. 

I looked at Fred, and he turned his head a bit too late. I had seen his eyes fixed on my fist.

“Fred, tell me.” 

He looked up, and his worried eyes met mine. He bit his lips before slowly taking my hands, looking quickly at George and Arthur before eventually sighing. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve hidden that to you, love. I thought- I thought you wouldn’t want to know it. The book was a sort of journal. It was written by your mother. She…”

My heart was pounding, it was the only thing I could hear besides Fred’s voice. 

“She was a Death Eater too. That’s why she was alone... That’s why she’s dead.”

The Dark Mark killed her. 

Tags: @pregnant-piggy​ @la3divine​

[bladekindeyewear]

Boots Reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 14 - Candy Page 27

==>

Alright, back from a brief excursion.  I really, REALLY wanna fucking finish this.  I want to see ROXY UNZOMBIFIED goddamnit, or at least get a REASON for her zombification, even if it’s just some Dirk-like villain who just cliffhangers himself away like a fucking asshole.

Also, comment on John’s whole rant... I guess John DID kind of want to be important.  Or... well, not “important” per se, but rather at least impactful in his friends’ lives.  It feels like they’re all walking dead through their own unsolved problems, trying to put on a pretty face, and nothing he tries to do matters, even attempted kidnapping.  He feels as useless as Dirk THINKS he is, but he never really was.  Gosh, I wish he’d pulled off that absurd kidnapping.  Freeing people from this sort of thing is supposed to kind of be his jam?

Okay, reading the new page.

FUCK.  TEN YEARS???????

Pff, John’s kid and sorta!Vriska.  Yeah I can buy that.

Also I love how they type out “Harry Anderson” every single time as his full first goddamn name.

--God damnit, how is Gamzee still fucking things up ten years later?  Hasn’t someone considered killing him?

Karkat and Meenah, also unsurprising.  Too bad Dave has to die unsatisfied.  >:(

Hm... this sorta!Vriska also has a weird Capitalization Quirk for Important Words, huh?  --Oh right, Kanaya raised her.  That might do it.

Hm, eyepatch?

Alright, the world’s falling into chaos.  Did the world HAVE to fucking fall into chaos in BOTH TIMELINES where these supposedly-went-through-a-successful-journey heroes managed to eek out victory despite opposing reality’s greatest tyrant?  Pfuh.

--and right.  Alt!Callie reinforces the idea that even though this possibility “wasn’t canon” -- which... means Meat is?? D: -- that the lives within still matter when looked at within their own bubble.

JADE: while abstracted heavily, and fully freed from all forces of narrative gravity, these events still represent possibilities that slept within the hearts of all who reside here.

Mhmm, part of an extension of themselves, their uniqueness, their hopes and dreams and... whatever WHOEVER did to fuck Roxy over.  Jesus DICK what’s happened to her I need to know you’d better fix this.

And somewhere within that mess, John Egbert is the best man at Jade and Dave’s wedding. He lasts nearly two hours before he gets a ruinous case of the sniffles.

Maybe they worked it out into ALMOST full mutual love?  Even if Dave’s 70% gayness goes totally unsatisfied?  I mean, I can hope, right?  :(

Dammit, Jade, couldn’t you have done this properly?  :C

and everyone knows that John has lost his family to Jane Crocker.

What the shit?!???

What drove Roxy away was him being depressed and just an all-around huge wet blanket who was impossible to live with. John is totally ready to own the fact that he was a bad husband, but maybe not the fact that he was a bad enough husband to drive his wife to passively support a brewing genocidal dictatorship. She looks happier, though, whenever he’s caught sight of her behind Jane—Calliope faithfully at her side—in any of the propaganda broadcasts that Jane passes off as business press conferences. By the time Roxy finally cut things off between them, he hadn’t personally seen her smile in years.

WHAT.  THE.  SHIT.

WHY DID ROXY DO ALL THIS THEN.  WHY DID SHE OF ALL PEOPLE, ONE OF THE MOST FORCEFUL AND SMART AND COOL--- GUHHH SHE JUST VOIDED HER WILL JUST OUT OF OBLIGATION TO JOHN OR SOMETHING?????????? WHAT THE FUCK WHYYYYYYY

Characters choke.  Characters make bad decisions.  That’s fair.  Andrew’s said that before.  But John was VISIBLY RECOGNIZING HOW OUT OF CHARACTER ROXY WAS ACTING.  WHYYYYYYYYY DID IT HAPPEN, WHY SUDDENLY DECADES OF MISHANDLED RELATIONSHIP WITH ABSOLUTELY NOBODY POINTING OUT THE OBVIOUS WHAT THE FUCK.  AND ROXY WAS THE ONE WHO STARTED IT AND PUSHED INTO JOHN UNTIL HE ACCEPTED.  WHY.

WHY.

Read.  Calm down.  Read.  There had better be.  A FUCKING.  ANSWER.

Hi military rebellion leader Karkat.

KARKAT: OH MY GOD JOHN, STOP BEING SO FUCKING PATHETIC FOR JUST A MINUTE. COULD YOU DO THAT FOR ME? JOHN: i don’t know. that’s a pretty big favor you’re asking me there, karkat.

heheh

JOHN: i dunno. it doesn’t seem responsible, really... to dedicate my life to something so important when i’m in a place where i can’t even find the energy to think that getting out of bed in the morning is “important.”

Depression stuff, yeah.

John really needs a psychologist who isn’t just Rose.

pff, yifftrain.

That’s how the years pass. Faster and faster the longer it goes. 

What.  The.  Fuck.

We’re not going to get any answers are we.  Roxy just acted out of character for no reason, didn’t she.  This is-- no, Andrew’s too GOOD at this for that to-- I mean--  is there a big answer he’s just not telling us-- FUCK!!!!  D:

AAAAAAAA

This sucks.  This sucks this sucks this SUCKS.  But I’ll keep reading.  I have to know.  If I’m ever going to be able to stand, like, i dunno... homestuck rp i guess? i should probably keep reading.  and hope i recover.  eventually.

But that’s only part of it. Above this Earth, the dead cherub is still meditating, waiting for the day when she can have her own heroic apotheosis. Waiting for the day when she can confront the one she calls the Prince. And on this Earth, John is just waiting for the day that feeling finally stops. That feeling that he’s still waiting for something, and the even worse feeling that years ago, he missed his only chance to put an end to it. If you stand on a very high hill at dawn, you can watch your shadow move in an arc around you.

Yeah, reinforcing that John would be happier in the timeline where he did something and -- at least temporarily, since there’s hope of future revival -- “died” because of it, even if he wasn’t clear on why what he was trying to do even really mattered in the whole scheme of things.

...which is pretty weird when you consider the ending of Homestuck didn’t try to express that messa-- no, wait.  I guess it did?

Yes, everyone went to the post-victory planet to live out indefinite lives, but there WAS still the stage play.  Proving that John, at least, WOULD eventually step outside the happy ending to instead risk his life doing something important.  They earned both possibilities, really, to choose from at their will.

...Aren’t there another dozen pages or so left in this Candy segment, though??  Are we gonna follow their kids or something?

==>

...Okay so stuff still needs to happen here, plotways.  Good.  I think.

A flash above the clouds catches John’s attention: another ghost, falling down from wherever it is they come from. John follows after the light with an exhausted sigh. The novelty of dead trolls falling from the sky has really worn off over the years. But he might as well go warn the new arrival that they’ve landed in the middle of an imminent warzone. He sets down at the edge of the crater and peers through the smoke.

He recognizes the ghost immediately, because he sees a younger version of her almost every day.

JOHN: vriska?

Vriska’s face snaps up, eyes blazing. Eyes. Actual eyes, with expression, color, pupils, and everything.

JOHN: wait. you’re... JOHN: alive??

PFFFFFFhahahahah!

That’s pretty hilarious.  Vriska fell into the singularity and popped out here.

...Yeah, you can’t stand having missed the most “important” bit, can you.  Too bad.  You didn’t have the spotlight in the end.

==>

JADE: it is the one i have been waiting for all these years. JADE: we have run along parallel lines for what may as well be eternity, but my gravitational well has finally ensnared him. JADE: and now he is due to fall into this world.

Uhh, who?  Davebot or something, from the postscript?  Couldn’t be Gamzee, unless it’s, like... a different Gamzee.

“Chaos war”?  That’s a dramatic title.

==>

Hmm, reading reading...

Will Dad’s passing knock any sense into you?  Probably not.

...yeah, it wasn’t going to be that easy, was it?

Of course.  Of course Dad died saving the President.

Although, she’s going to assign fault to Karkat and then want to start a full bloody war over it, so, the opposite of having sense knocked into her then.

JANE: UGH! JANE: That... that fool!! JANE: I can’t believe that he would do this! JANE: How could he do this to me!?! JAKE: Janey... JANE: The human president could be anyone! JANE: My dad can’t be anyone but him!

Jane, you’ve become a real asshole.  :(

...Fuck you Gamzee.

GAMZEE: hEy. GAMZEE: Do YoU tHiNk ThAt MiGhT bE a BiT mOtHeRfUcKinG xEnOpHoBiC?

PFFFFHAHAHAHAHAAHAHhhh oh my GOD :’D

JANE: What? You think appealing to me with your disgusting little addiction is going to sway me?

Oh Jesus Christ that’s horrifying.  THAT’s what’s been going on.  I don’t want to visualize it, dear lord.

==>

Hahahah, catching Vriska up.  She’s practically curling up in a ball like Squidward in future shock.

PFFF PUTTING PARENS AROUND HER NAME SHE CAN’T STAND BEING IRRELEVANTIZED LIKE THAT

JOHN: i was supposed to go fight lord english, but i didn’t. so now we’ve gone beyond, like, the event horizon of canon. (VRISKA): What the fuck does that even MEAN????????

Wait, shouldn’t YOU know exactly what that means, Vriska?  Like, better than most people at least?

JOHN: all i know is that all of this is my fault.

:(

JOHN: it’s been turning around in my head like this for a while. i thought... JOHN: why does everything here fucking SUCK so much? JOHN: how the hell did we even make it from point A to point festering clusterfuck? JOHN: it doesn’t follow any kind of logic i understand, or any sort of basic sense i have about who we are as people... JOHN: and why? why have we all ended up so unhappy and... twisted up?

Yeah, a BUNCH of people have acted really goddamn out of character and it’s unclear why.

JOHN: i got everything i wanted. everyone got what they— JOHN: what i thought they wanted. JOHN: and that’s just it, isn’t it? JOHN: the more i think about it, i’m the only factor that matters to anything.

--What?!?  No!!!  You could SEE that this wasn’t what you thought they wanted right from the get-go.  It couldn’t have been YOUR imagination that this realm of alternative possibility was drawn from, could it?  D:

JOHN: whatever i did, or didn’t do, just... destroyed reality’s ability to, like, substantiate itself, or whatever. JOHN: like there’s a bug in the operating system of whatever force in this world that regulates cause and effect. JOHN: everything’s been unraveling. nothing that happens makes sense anymore. JOHN: and now i’m the only person out here who’s even real at all! JOHN: hahahaha.

That’s certainly an idea at least, that people started acting out of character as we went further from “canon”.  In fact, it’s kind of a slam at fanfics, maybe?  Acknowledging that they distort the characters by understanding them in different ways, sometimes, and.. hm.

(VRISKA): Hahahahahahahaha... Wow, I’ve never seen a guy get his 8ulge all the way down his own swallow chute 8efore! JOHN: wait, what? (VRISKA): Good fuck. Do you actually think reality gives that much of a shit a8out you? (VRISKA): Get real, Eg8ert. (VRISKA): It’s not like you’re me. JOHN: ok, well. JOHN: that’s fair i guess.

Heheheh.  ...Yeah, Vriska might pep talk him out of this self-deprecating theory of his.  Besides, I mean... is that the ONLY cause for this whole fucking situation?  That Roxy’s will got eroded to nothing arbitrarily either at random in a glitching non-canon timeline or because John kind of maybe thought something was going to happen and reality decided to run with it??

...heheh, “batterpanzers”.

I’m pretty sure caring what “c8non” is supposed to be is EXACTLY the thing you’re freaking out about, Vriska, whether you realize it or not.

Oooh, Gamzee.  Do we get to see Vriska kill him?

Yeaaah... redemption ain’t for THIS sp8der.  The ghost version of Vriska got the closest thing to redemption she’ll ever get; THIS version never learned any damn lessons and is not going to accept that she ever NEEDS to.  Also, you said her name in relevance-reducing parentheses.  Bad move.

==>

Yaaaay here’s the bunch of indigo blood we were promised!! :D

Where’s the nudity though? Maybe that’s coming.

He yowls as if he had actual testicles to be mauled, and for all anyone knows, maybe he really does.

It’s reassuring to see that while Andrew is more than willing to give us WAY too much genital detail in some cases throughout this epilogue, he still knows how to deftly exploit the parts of anatomy that still AREN’T explicitly characterized and remain intentionally vague for their impactful resulting humor.  :)

She lunges at Gamzee’s catastrophic face lips-first, and practically dives into his mouth, ramming her tongue into his

NOOO FUCK HE WAS ABOUT TO DIE AAAAAA D’:

FUCK  :(

Okay, back on to anything but this.

==>

Oh shit, double Vriska.  This might be bad.

...Phew.  Nice save, John.

JOHN: ha ha. yeah, right. because this is real life, right? JOHN: i guess reading narrative relevance into a bunch of dumb and totally random events is kind of lame and childish. ROSE: No, that isn’t what I meant at all. ROSE: By all means, apply a narrative to our lives. Up until a certain point, it would have been perfectly accurate to do so. ROSE: But not anymore. JOHN: because... it’s not canon, right? ROSE: Do you remember what I told you years ago? About the three pillars of canon?

Wuh-oh.

ROSE: As I explained to you on that morning sixteen years ago, there are three critical features of canon: essentiality, relevance, and truth. JOHN: yeah. ROSE: We have been untethered from the mooring of “truth” for some time now. ROSE: So while we, in our subjective experiences of conscious perception, feel in this moment that we have known each other for a very long time, technically it’s not true at all.

...Okay.  Okay.

So.  Were, like.

Roxy and Calliope affected by the, like... “untruth wave” of his choice not to go the hardest, because he made it in their vicinity?  And that turned Roxy into a hypnozombie with minimal apparent free will? :C

...Oh wow.  She’s thanking John that she got a chance to be happy in this side timeline, even if so many other people suffered.  Because of the fucking hell Dirk was about to unleash on her in the Meat timeline.  Fuck.

ROSE: In the silly wizard story I wrote when I was a child, ROSE: The realm most comparable to heaven existed in a state of subliminal conditionality, dependent on the inscience of the individual experiencing it. ROSE: Which is to say that it would cease to exist the moment you realized what it was. ROSE: And so, those with knowledge could never truly be happy.

Oh wow, huh.  Yeah, knowing you’re just in a fanfic kind of screws your appreciation for life around you, huh.  So John got fucked over a bit by his metatextual awareness.  :(

And... Rose was, like, cut off by his choice from her own metatextual awakening, maybe?  Hence her ability to appreciate a life somewhere disconnected from anything “canon”?

ROSE: But that isn’t me anymore. ROSE: I am blind against the veil of this world. ROSE: It’s all ambrosia to me. ROSE: I don’t care if it’s not true. I care even less if it’s not canon. ROSE: I have a beautiful wife who I love more than I thought possible, and a daughter who I am immeasurably proud of. ROSE: It can all be senseless, ephemeral noise that dissolves in the void. A whisper swept up by the wind before it’s uttered. ROSE: I’m still grateful to have felt this way.

:’)

Alright, this might be a pretty good way of accepting their potential happiness in different timelines as a potential substitute for Dirk’s mess.  I’m not sure HOW well I’ll be able to internalize it to stop the stomach cramps, but we’ll see.

We still have a little bit more left, though.  Next post.