#might do one for a future apathy

[cuppajj]

Beast Ancients AU FAQ

I’ve seen a lot of asks in my inbox that are identical to each other, so I decided to put em all in one post and then some. This’ll be updated the more I develop the AU and the more info we get.

As a disclaimer, I am very new to CRK (as of December 2023) and I haven’t gotten to all the game or story modes yet (notably odyssey), so things are definitely bound to change + be elaborated on more! Anyway without further ado:

General

What are the Beast Ancients’ themes?

Vanilla is Penance, Lily is Sovereignty, Dragonberry is Pride, Cacao is Solitude, and Cheese is Conquest. I tried to keep them within the realm of their original meanings

Essentially my philosophy is: Penance is the acknowledgment (truth) that sins such as deceit exist in the world and must be cleansed. Sovereignty is an extreme form of freedom where one can have all the agency they wish, but can be just as silent about their presence/power as well. Pride is a byproduct of passion or sloth, boiling down to the adamancy of the subject. Solitude is a choice made with both resolution and apathy in various degrees, and lastly Conquest promises an abundant future at the cost of untold destruction.

If the ancients are bad, are the beasts good?

No, the old Beasts are still a threat. With a total of ten beasts to worry about, the situation on Earthbread is very dire. However, there is still hope left, and hope can go a long way.

Is there a new set of ancient heroes with soul jams?

No, and there likely won’t be. The Neo Beasts and first Beasts still have their respective soul jam halves, and both want each other’s.

Where’s Gingerbrave and his party?

Likely the Crème Republic, which becomes a refuge for many cookies after the rise of the neo beasts. They’re at the front of the resistance movement, working with Clotted Cream Cookie to plan how the beasts will be taken down.

What do the Neo Beasts think of their past selves?

Generally they see themselves as improved or improving. The only one who doesn’t feel that way is Frigid Cacao, who doesn’t reflect on himself that often.

Did they all corrupt at the same time?

Still working on that part. The timeline for beast ancients is a WIP, but for now, it’s likely that while they didn’t corrupt at once, they corrupted pretty close to one another. Cheese was likely first, followed by Lily. Vanilla was among the last to fall and evidently had it the worst.

Do the Neo Beasts still have kingdoms? How is life like there?

Answered here

What are the cookies of darkness doing?

As of writing (5/31/24) we don’t have a lot of info on the cookies of darkness in beast yeast, but at the very least I can say Dark Enchantress cookie may or may not know about Midnight Lily’s plan to destroy her.

How would legendaries react?

I admittedly don’t know everything about the legendaries to say yet, but they’re all alarmed to some degree. I can flesh them out the more I learn about them

Individual Neo Beast questions under cut!

Saint Vanilla Cookie

How do his powers work?

Answered here

Does he know he’s killing cookies?

Nope, he doesn’t see it as that and it would pain him to. He sees purification as a form of transition or ascension in itself, to put it simply; he might even envy those he turns to stardust, knowing his own tainted soul will be so much harder to liberate.

Why is he constantly crying?

He’s just like that. He’s just that big of an empath.

Has his relationship with Lily changed?

Saint Vanilla still cares very much about Lily, and may even be more open about his feelings towards her; but he admits the only reason why she’s still alive is because she convinced him to leave her for last. Lily very well knows that Vanilla, in his mind, wants to purify her more than anyone else. Vanilla often pities her choice to stew in her tainted soul, but he respects her decision… at least the alternative is that they’ll someday be the only two cookies on Earthbread.

What happened to Black Raisin?

As the very first to witness his rise, she inadvertently became his very first martyr.

Where’s Custard Cookie III?

With his relatives in the Crème Republic, alongside the rest of Gingerbrave’s party. The kid has a hard time wrapping his head around what happened to Pure Vanilla, and it may be a blessing that he’s been largely focused on worrying about the well being of his uncle, Clotted Cream Cookie. As the head of the resistance, he’s been working tirelessly… is this what a king goes through too?

Shadow Milk’s opinion on Saint?

To put it simply, he starts out thinking that a confused Vanilla will be easy to manipulate, but he soon finds out that Saint Vanilla is way smarter and more aware than made out to be. He knows Shadow Milk is with him, and he wants to purge him from his soul; but that is a process that may be harder than anything else. So in the meantime, Shadow Milk can watch as he continues on his path of Penance towards ascension, fighting back the resistance he creates before it can truly harm him. Essentially, Saint Vanilla isn’t trapped with Shadow Milk, Shadow Milk is trapped with Saint Vanilla.

Dragonberry Cookie

Is the skull on her head real?

Yes! It comes from a nondescript monster.

If Pitaya is imprisoned, where is Snapdragon?

With Tarte Tatin and/or Royal Margarine. Dragon City likely got taken over by Dragonberry’s kingdom, but they noped out of there as it happened. The two of them might’ve been the first few to recognize Hollyberry’s spiral into corruption and where it was headed

How is her family doing?

Alright for the most part, but they can feel Dragonberry’s influence in every aspect of their life now. While Royal and Jungleberry are technically still the king and queen, it’s only a figurehead role as Dragonberry is the true ruler. She still cares about her family very much, but she’s controlling and good at keeping them under her thumb. Dragonberry’s granddaughter Princess Cookie is the only one who objects this new way of life, and runs away from the palace.

How would the other dragons react?

The other dragons aren’t canon to CRK so they’re not canon to the au by extension, but just for this question, they’d be different levels of alarmed or concerned save for maybe Longan. I could see Ananas wanting a word with Dragonberry in particular esp since they’re both prideful cookies

Frigid Cacao Cookie

Does he ever go outside?

Very rarely, but it’s usually to observe the licorice sea or meet with the few denizens he has left.

Where is Dark Choco?

Still working on this part (waiting for Apathy pt 2 to come out so I have a better idea), but he’s likely alone by himself. He heard wind of his father’s corruption though and took it less well than he thought he would. Perhaps he’ll run into someone who feels the same?

Is his permafrost truly permanent or can the frozen citizens be thawed?

Technically yes, the permafrost can be thawed, but it’s a meticulous process since Cacao’s ice isn’t normal ice. It’s a cure that Crunchy Chip is looking for to save Caramel Arrow.

How does the licorice sea work for him and how did he come to tame it?

I can’t say how yet outside of the fact that it was a definitely cool and heroic thing for Dark Cacao to do, on the scale of taming the Black and White dragons. The sea, arguably a sentient monster in itself, and all of the creatures within it came to follow Cacao and Cacao only. Now it almost acts like an extension of himself: the beast can make the sea do whatever he wants, like acting as his shield, arms, or barrier, and the licorice horrors will vehemently defend him. There are tons of monsters roaming his frozen kingdom now.

Mystic Flour’s opinion on Cacao?

Working on it, but to some degree she knows Cacao is much stronger than he looks. She might see his apparent apathy for his frozen kingdom with fondness though.

Celestial Cheese Cookie

Is the Golden City still running or did she leave it to die?

It may still be running but in a scaled-down beta form. Cheese learned to accept the fact that what she’d built was entirely fake, but she didn’t move on from regaining what was lost. Her virtual Golden City serves as a blueprint for the kingdom she wants on Earthbread, and then some; with nothing in the barren desert to grow her kingdom, her brightened eyes turn elsewhere towards civilizations that could be brought into the fold. Such is the beginning of the Beast of Conquest’s terror.

She does sometimes visit her golden city, only sometimes. It doesn’t look the same; it’s not a paradise for her to escape to, but it is a promise of what she will have someday. This time, it will be no mirage, and there will be no one to threaten its destruction ever again.

Midnight Lily Cookie

What is her opinion on dark enchantress cookie?

DE is the source of insecurity for Lily, who regards herself as the weakest among all the beasts. Because she’s half of a complete whole, who was already half of another whole, she is passionate about reuniting her souls. While she is focused on expanding the influence of the faerie kingdom, her true goal is to track down Dark Enchantress Cookie and destroy her; but she knows she will need more help than just herself, and has considered asking for help from other vengeful allies.

Does she still guard the silver tree?

Yes, she still fiercely honors Elder Faerie’s wishes.

Have her relationships with the other neo beasts changed?

Ish, most notably her and Celestial Cheese are a little more on speaking terms; but they’re connecting through their potential partnership as Lily hopes she can help her take down Dark Enchantress. In return, she might help her expand her kingdom and take down Burning Spice.

If more FAQs come up, I will make a part two. Thank you for your interest!

[astrosamara]

Astrology Observations #6

Happy Halloween! 🎃🎃🎃

🧡 Sun square Saturn people feel like they need to work twice as hard to achieve success that appears to come more naturally for others. Incredibly hard on themselves if they feel like they're not being productive enough or doing enough, yet they work relentlessly towards their goals and overcoming obstacles. It's hard for them to recognize their achievements or to feel proud of themselves.

🧡 Unaspected planets in the birth chart tend to manifest as a very pure representation of that planet. For example, an unaspected moon can be very emotionally expressive and reactive. Emotions run freely here. An unaspected mars needs to be busy all the time, high stress and aggression can be hard to keep under control, and they can be very competitive.

🧡 The house Venus is in is crucial to understanding someone's values and what they need to feel loved and appreciated. For example, I know a 3rd house Venus who talks to me a lot about how much they can't stand miscommunication and liars. They really value open and honest communication. I plan on creating an in-depth Venus post in the future :)

🧡 This might be an unpopular opinion, but I found my Jupiter return to be pretty underwhelming. I experienced a lot of ease in my life and I feel like I was able to get out of difficult situations pretty quickly, but other than that it wasn't quite what I've seen it made out to be. I've had quite a few people in my life have Jupiter returns recently and it was underwhelming for them as well. It's possible my 12th house profection year and 12th house Saturn transit was overshadowing my Jupiter return though.

🧡When Venus transits my 3rd and 9th houses, I notice I have a stronger desire to travel during these periods. I just want to be out and about and exploring new places and new cities. I'm usually a big homebody, but during these transits I don't feel that as much.

🧡When Sun transits my 8th and 12th houses, this is always the most painful time for me every single year. I just feel a heaviness stronger than usual and a lot of my old wounds get brought up again. This can be a really helpful time to clear out negative energy that's been stagnant for so long and start fresh once the transit ends.

🧡Pisces is by far the most sensitive sign, while Cancer is the most emotional. I feel like a lot of people misinterpret the sensitivity of Pisces as just being sad, but overall they just feel and can pick up on all the energy around them and can even have periods of apathy as a way to cope. I've also known many Pisces that struggle with anger issues as an unhealthy expression of their sensitivity.

🧡With the people you're closest to, you might see them as being their moon sign more than their sun sign. This is because you've likely seen the deepest parts of them that other's don't usually get to see.

🧡The intensity of Aries and Scorpio synastry is next level. Their connections are filled with passion and sexual chemistry. Unfortunately, that lust tends to be all that's really there for them. All that mars energy is quick and hot, but the flame doesn't last forever, unless there's more harmonious synastry between them of course.

🧡I've found 9th house Jupiter people to be incredibly smart and wise beyond their years. They can have a very deep understanding of life and the world around them. Excellent teachers and role models.

🧡I think Saturn conjunct Moon is one of the most challenging aspects to have in a natal chart. There can be this lifelong feeling of being depressed or dissatisfied, like they're cold and empty inside. They can feel disconnected to their feelings and feel emotionally starved because of this. Their mother could have been very strict and unloving and played a huge role in these feelings. Constantly feeling like they're not good enough. Just an overall very harsh placement that I feel for a lot.

🧡I've noticed that water signs tend to be very naturally inclined to spirituality. It can just be something they feel drawn to and resonate with easily. They openly embrace ideas about the universe that most people are skeptical about.

🧡Leo mercuries have the most beautiful talking voices. Their emotions shine through their voices so effortlessly. So charismatic as well. They know how to keep conversations lively.

🧡I've known so many Aquarius risings and all of them have this "goofy" persona about them that's hard to even fully describe. They just love to be a little bit silly. They also pride themselves super strongly on being unique from others. It really bothers them to feel like they're in a box or a stereotype of any sorts.

[rebelspykatie]

Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never thought about kissing another guy. He rarely thinks about kissing anybody. For the longest time, he was convinced that no one would ever want to kiss him, so he never saw the point in dwelling on it. 

But maybe that was unusual. He might have mistaken his apathy for normalcy when really he’s the freak. The average person probably thinks about kissing an awful lot. He’s listened to Jeff talk about asking out Lacy from his calculus class and Gareth go on and on about how unfair it is that he can’t make out with his boyfriend behind the bleachers to know that the average high schooler is pretty horny. 

Yet, Eddie’s childhood wasn’t littered with school yard crushes. There aren’t fond memories of girls that he imagined sneaking off with during lunch period or recess. There’s just…nothing. A part of that was his rocky childhood and jumping from his parents, to just his dad, to Wayne. But a lot of it was pure disinterest in the hottest girl in their grade growing breasts before all the other girls, or how tenth grade Mandy would make out with anyone with the right incentive. 

He’s never thought about it long enough for anything to stick. He figured, one day, when he was old enough to escape Hawkins and all the small minded bigots who think he’s a devil worshiper, that he would find a girl that appreciated his specific eccentricities. That he’d settle down somewhere quiet, a little closer to the city than Hawkins, and find some blue collar job and start a family. That’s just what everyone does, right?

He knows that’s not true, though. That everyone doesn’t follow that path. He knows people like Gareth and Robin, and apparently Steve, don’t get to just walk into happily ever after. There’s no white picket fence in their future, and Eddie’s never had to confront that reality so head on before. He knows what it’s like to be different. To have a target on your back. But, it’s nothing like the ostracization of being gay. 

Thinking about kissing Steve scares him. When he closes his eyes, it’s a looping replay of that day. Steve’s soft lips on his unmoving ones. Big hands cradling his face. He can perfectly recall the terror and confusion. It’s seeped into his bones now, because he’s realized something about himself and he doesn’t know what to do with the information. 

He can do nothing. He can move forward and pretend that he doesn’t wake up panting, picturing Steve on top of him pressing him into the mattress with their faces attached. He doesn’t ever have to acknowledge that for the first time in twenty years of living, he’s having honest to god wet dreams that involve another person. And that person he’s envisioning is a guy. Everything can just be swept under the rug.

But he’s pretty sure it scares him more to know that he can’t. It’s eating away at him. Eddie feels trapped in his own skin. The truth is clawing its way to the surface, wanting to break free, even if Eddie’s shutting down as it tries to spill out. He knows it’s inevitable, that overflow. The dam breaking. 

It takes an intervention to set everything in motion. Wayne’s been fussing over him for weeks. He’s been doing that worried parent thing that he thinks Eddie doesn’t know about, where he stands outside Eddie’s closed bedroom door like he wants to knock and say something, but doesn’t. He’s studying Eddie over their morning cereal like the little floating letters are going to spell out why Eddie’s been holed up in his room almost mute. 

But the final straw is when Wayne comes home from work to Eddie painting figurines on the stairs of their new trailer while pretending that he’s not watching Steve help Max fold laundry next door. There’s this polite distance between them and Eddie that didn’t exist before, this wide expanse where before Eddie would’ve been sitting on the picnic table in front of Max’s trailer teasing both of them, or maybe helping if it was a low pain day. 

Instead, he’s sat like a toddler in timeout, taking furtive peaks over the little paint brushes and praying that Max’s sharp intuition about situations like this is dulled by her literal lack of being able to see Eddie from over there. Steve can see him, though, and Eddie’s feigning that it doesn’t bother him. What a grave he’s dug for himself here. 

“Boy, don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” Wayne sighs as he climbs out of his truck, this world-weary, too knowledgeable sigh that makes Eddie squirm. 

“I don’t know what you mean, old man.” Better to just play ignorant. Even though Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t escape Wayne’s withering gaze. He hasn’t in over ten years, so he likely won’t be starting now. 

Wayne just stares at him. A raised eyebrow and crossed arms that tell Eddie he means business. He’s not getting out of this. 

Eddie’s jaw shifts and he looks down at the figure in his hands. “I don’t really know what to do, Wayne.” 

“Move over,” Wayne says, settling down beside Eddie until they’re shoulder to shoulder, barely waiting for the little shuffle Eddie does to make room. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just stares across the yard in the same direction Eddie was moments before, a contemplative look on his face. “This about that boy?”

Eddie follows his gaze over to Steve. His silence goes on a little too long before he softly says, “yeah.” 

Wayne hums, still looking at Steve. “You know, you always were a late bloomer.”

That grabs Eddie’s attention. He turns towards Wayne, who takes that as his cue to continue, and sets down the figure behind them. 

“Nothing ever happened when I thought it would when you were a boy. Lizzy said you took forever to walk and talk. I kept waiting for you to come to me about the birds and the bees, but you didn’t. Not sure if that was a good thing to let go, but I knew you weren’t getting yourself into trouble. Probably wasn’t much I could offer you that public school wasn’t already teaching you.” 

Eddie wonders briefly if he should’ve hidden the condoms in his room better, but maybe that’s what gave Wayne the confidence to leave Eddie to his business. Even if they were collecting dust before they became dust that day the trailer cracked open.

“You never brought anyone around.” He nods in the direction of Steve. “Not until him.” 

The conversation with Steve is distantly replaying in his head. How he went over their every interaction with Robin and they came to this same conclusion. Maybe Eddie really is an idiot. 

“It wasn’t intentional,” Eddie adds. “I didn’t know what I was doing.” 

“I don’t think anyone knows what they’re doing, son. That’s part of life.” He pats Eddie on the back. “It’s ‘specially a part of being in love.” 

Eddie’s not sure he’s willing to start that train of thought, yet. He’s grateful for the quiet, unspoken acceptance, but he’s not ready to think about labeling it something as profound as love. He flounders for a second before saying, “I think I’ve missed my chance there,” as he looks back over at Steve. 

“Are you dead and I don’t know it?” He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder. “Seem pretty real to me.” He whacks Eddie’s head gently. “Ain’t nothing missed if you’re still alive to make things right.” 

“Hey!” Eddie laughs, mock offended at the attack, rubbing the back of his head and leaning away from Wayne. “Isn’t it socially unacceptable to joke about someone that was legally dead for almost three minutes?”

“I think I get leeway as the one that kept you alive for ten years by myself.” Wayne wrangles him into a side hug, pulling him to his chest with an arm around his neck. “Just cause things are broken, doesn’t mean you can’t fix ‘em, son.”

[sleepingpopplio]

The Powerful Theme Behind BNHA’s Nuanced Ending

As I’m posting this we only have one more chapter of the manga and I don’t know how the ending is going to exactly play out, but I do know one thing. The deaths of Toga and Tenko were not in vain, and the author is still trying to give readers hope while also still maintaining some realism and bitter-sweetness in his messaging. Therefore, this is what I think Horikoshi is trying to tell his readers, especially the young people who have their whole lives ahead of them to make a difference on the world:

I see how this theme, the one that’s been built up throughout this manga yet simultaneously feels like it’s coming out of left field, is one of those themes that is a hard pill to swallow. Basically, no matter how hard we can try and push to do good and help others/make the world a better place, we’ll often fail again and again. A lot of bad things can happen, society can choose to remain apathetic, and it can seem like nothing’s ever gonna change because you just put all that hard work in towards the future for nothing. However, even if sometimes you can’t save everyone or society keeps trying to push issues under the rug, that doesn’t mean we should give up trying to fight for social issues we care about. We might never get to see the perfect world Deku and Urarak dream of, and Tenko and Toga may be gone, but their fight for a good and accepting world will someday be worth it cus their actions do have weight by showing that redemption is possible, even if no one has seen it except them. Young people like them just have to make sure to leave their mark so that others can follow.

My Hero Academia is about how we all can become the greatest hero, not by magically destroying the world’s problems and apathy overnight, but instead by continously reaching out a helping hand to people who might not initially seem like they want it.

[envy-of-the-apple]

I cant stop thinking about mafia boss suguru constantly changing plans for reader on the fly everytime he meets her since the DAY HE MET YOU IN PERSON

I just feel like he is because i kept thinking back on reader's fumble at suguru's meeting and making her sit on his lap, that's just an out of pocket thing to do to your employee(especially if youre turning a blind eye to him and his tame advancements) and my brain got out of hand with its assumptions every moment suguru decides what to do with reader

I mean it would be a cute (twisted)romance when he mentioned doing his background check with apathy then when he met you for real he never expected a barrage of feelings he felt for you, so originally he would pimp you out, but in you go to do office work instead because youre mine or rather ours now, and then proceeded to do an impressive feat of lightning quick decisions that luckily tips to his favor, like your confrontation with your father's aggrieved enemies and was presented with fool proof of an opportunity to have a solid future with you(im fuming he just let that dude go and let men from rivaling groups vex us!)

As much as premeditated machinations go, lucky bastard suguru is unironically funny and brushing with your father's enemy feels like a moment he never anticipated?? Idk, that part cemented what my brain is cooking of him

Would you ever consider dropping another part for suguru's pov? I really wanna know at what point he fell for reader(and i wanna know what hes thinking when reader said "just for one night 🥺")

omg seeing this in my inbox was such a treat! I love it when yall get analytical.

What can I say? Suguru is an opportunist, he's sadistic enough to let you get bullied and tossed around a little, just so you can plead and cry so prettily in his arms. If if makes you feel any better, Suguru was keeping a close eye on the men who crashed Miss Gem's apartment, and made sure you weren't there to get hurt. He just wanted to scare you enough to coax you into his arms lololol. So many people theorized that he was the one who orchestrated it, (he didn't, suguru hates getting his hands dirty). How could he have known that letting that man get away would cause this domino effect? If anything he and his husband are the good guys for giving you a refuge for such a low price.

Omg the love at first sight trope is so funny for Suguru. Buuut if you reread the fic again you might find that's not exactly what happened:).

I really like the way this ended so I probably wont be making a part two or anything in suguru's pov. buut to answer your last question suguru was definitely nodding along but in his head he was going 'right like we're ever letting you go after this'.

After all, it wasn't really a choice. But for your sake, he made you think you had one. See, he really does love you;)

[cuubism]

Hope for the Future

~2k, Dreamling, 1589 era, post-Eleanor's death, dream conversations and revelations. cw death in childbirth

Dream and Hob meet at Eleanor's deathbed, in a fashion.

--

Ages ago I wrote Patron Saint, a fic about Hob's friendship with Death. For a while I wanted to write a companion piece from Dream's POV since Dreamling is a background ship in that fic but their trajectory is different from canon. But lbr it's been 2 years and I haven't done that-- early on, though, I did write one scene from Dream's POV because I wanted to flesh out a potential moment that Death mulls on in Patron Saint, when she was visiting Hob after Eleanor and the baby died:

“So many babies die,” Hob says. “Mothers, too, I—” he runs a hand through greasy, disheveled hair. “Do you think it will be better in the future? Because I haven’t seen that much improved. Not in my time.” “I imagine so, yes,” Death says. Dream would be able to answer this question for him better. Dream would be able to tell him what doctors might be imagining solutions to the problem, what midwives were dreaming of new ways to care for their charges. Hope for the future is Dream’s business, whether he accepts it or not. She wishes Dream were here. She has a strong feeling Hob would find even his stoic pretense at apathy comforting. Caring for others is strange like that.

Anyway I wanted that scene, I wrote that scene, I didn't write anything else to flesh out a companion piece but I think it stands on its own and can be understood even without reading the original fic.

--

Dream would assert that he did not care about Hob Gadling. He was not interested in Hob Gadling, beyond a passing curiosity in his approach to humanity, sated every hundred years. He was certainly not thinking about Hob Gadling, or his wife and small child and knighthood and other life goals he’d managed to accrue in this century. 

And yet, as he felt a particularly vicious nightmare go for Hob in his sleep, not long after their last meeting, he took note. 

He wasn’t sure why he took note. Perhaps because Hob had been on such a disgusting high last they’d met, it seemed strange for this to happen now. Perhaps because he knew this nightmare particularly well, had crafted it from deep in his own soul, as he so rarely did.

He followed the thread of the nightmare. 

Hob was running. Both from and after something at once. A darkness chased him. And another darkness retreated from him.

“Wait!” he yelled, reaching for it. Smoke slipped through his hands. Hob heaved for breath, stumbling to a stop as he ran out of air. He leaned on his knees, panting and coughing. “Wait,” he sobbed, but the darkness did not wait.

The other wave of darkness caught him, knocking him off his feet so he sprawled on the ground, hands scraping on the dirt. It didn’t attack him, just hovered over him like a blanket of fog, blocking the meager light. 

“You weren’t supposed to go,” Hob said into the darkness. It didn’t reply.

It was not an unreasonable nightmare for a father to have, Dream knew well enough. But the sharpness of those dark shadows – this nightmare was not pure fiction. It was drawing more from memory than he’d thought.

“Enough of this drama,” he commanded the nightmare. “Show me the truth of things.”

The scene of darkness faded to reveal an ordinary, if well-appointed bedroom. An air of sickness hovered, and death also – Dream could feel the echo of his sister near. 

A sickly woman, heavily pregnant, lay in the bed, and it was she that Dream knew was calling Death forth. She, and the tiny baby cradled in her womb, not quite ready to be born, and now would never be.

And Hob – not dying, he couldn’t, but he looked about as close to it as a man could come. Ashen, shaky, trembling.

“I love you,” he was saying, kissing Eleanor’s hand. “You know?”

This was still a dream, and this had all already occurred, Dream knew. There was nothing he could do here, not that he would. He turned to go, feeling stiff and cold in a way he decidedly did not like, when Hob looked up, and saw him.

Dream had not meant to be seen.

“My friend,” said Hob, surprise temporarily wiping the grief from his features. “You’re here.”

“I… am,” Dream conceded, and, drawn in despite himself, sat in a chair beside Hob. 

“I’m grateful for it,” said Hob. Dream didn’t know what he could possibly be providing that Hob was grateful for. Then, “There’s no hope, is there? I mean. I don’t know why I’d think you would know.”

Dream looked at the mother and baby before him. Hob had called him friend. A friend, he thought, would tell Hob that there was always hope. But that was not what Dream believed.

“I do not think so,” he said. “I am… sorry.”

Hob sighed. He was still holding Eleanor’s hand. “I have to tell you, I– whatever I might’ve said to you at our last meeting, I’m struggling to feel any of it right now.”

“That is understandable.” More understandable, Dream thought, than his declaration of Life is rich! that Dream had found so hard to swallow.

“I’ve known others who’ve lost wives, children,” Hob said, and Dream looked down. Hob would have no way of knowing who those others might have included. “But I guess I always thought, not me, never me, never my Eleanor. Not until she was old and gray, anyway. But I guess everyone thinks that, don’t they?”

“Perhaps.” Dream thought he himself had always known the cost would come due. Destiny might have said that was one of the reasons it did come due. You make your own end. But that would not help Hob.

“It’s got to get better,” Hob asserted. “It’s got to. It’s got to stop some day, doesn’t it? All these children, and mothers dying.”

The instinct to sneer at his optimism jumped up Dream’s throat, but he managed to bite it off. He did not want to be… cruel, he realized, to someone who was suffering. Especially within a dream; dreamers’ minds were not for him to subject to his own feelings.

“In Guangzhou,” he started slowly, the dreams coming to him like a light rainfall, “there is a doctor who has just crafted a new medicine to ease pain during childbirth. She has been dreaming of it for years. In Oyo, a healer is learning to tell earlier and earlier when a pregnancy is troubled, that they might intervene in time. A few months more, and they will have it. And down the street, here in London, a midwife is just planting the seeds for the hospital she will open to help unwed mothers with nowhere to turn.”

Hob stared at him. He seemed to be holding his breath.

“Dreamers abound,” Dream said, “but it takes time for their work to come to fruition.”

Hob continued to watch him. Something shifted in his eyes, as he looked at Dream. Dream wasn’t certain he liked it. 

“You know everything, don’t you?” Hob said.

“Not everything.”

“You know all of that,” Hob mused, “all these things that are happening. And… you still come to ask me if I wish to live?”

Dream bristled, and Hob raised his hands in surrender. “Never mind, never mind, forget I said anything. You’re entitled to your own feelings on the matter. Thank you, for those stories. It helps. Truly. And I’m glad that I’ll get to see it. One day.”

“‘One day,’” Dream echoed. “‘One day’ is a time when no children die and no famine walks the earth, when soldiers break their swords before the fight, and later bread with their enemies. One day is always one step into the future, Hob Gadling. Ever-moving.”

“Aye,” said Hob. “That’s the point.” 

Dream frowned. What pleasure could be derived from wanting and wanting, and never having, he could not fathom. He had crafted nightmares thus. What hope to find in hope itself continually being dashed?

“I look forward to seeing you every century, you know that?” Hob added. “No matter what else happens. Bad days, or good ones.”

Dream kept frowning, unsure of the connection.

“It’s important to have those things,” Hob said. He squeezed Eleanor’s still hand. “Even now. Especially now.” 

In Dream’s own… aftermath… he could not imagine finding comfort in anything. What help could some nebulous future date possibly be?

“If that is what helps you,” he said. 

Hob cast him a look like he just knew that Dream didn’t get it, and it rankled. But there was no true criticism in that look. Hob looked at him with an unfathomable fondness, always.

He turned back to Eleanor, just gazing at her face with an expression Dream found difficult to witness in its softness. Were this the waking world, she would have certainly passed by now. But moments could freeze indefinitely in the Dreaming.

“Do you think I’ll forget her?” Hob asked quietly, still looking at his wife. “The details of her face, I mean? Her voice? What she smelled like? My memory’s far from perfect, and there’s a lot of time for it to fade.”

Dream knew without having to actively make the vow to himself that he would be sending frequent dreams Hob’s way to ensure he did not. He should not do so. He should not interfere. 

But.

“There are some things one does not forget,” he said.

Hob swiped at his eyes. He was crying now. “S’pose you’re right.”

If Dream was any sort of friend – and he was not sure that he was, though Hob had declared him so – he would end this dream now and spare Hob any further torment of reliving this memory. 

Instead, he sat beside him, far longer than he intended. Sat in silence, listened to Hob’s breaths, his sniffles as he cried, the subtle movements of continued life. He stayed in this sea of human endings and sickness and grief. With Hob. Something unnameable sitting heavier and heavier within him. And more than once he told himself to rise and to end the dream, and he did not. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Hob finally said, when much time had passed and they still sat side-by-side. And it was this that finally reminded Dream that he should not be.

“I should leave you,” he said, standing abruptly. “This dream is–”

“Wait.” Hob took his hand. Dream should– Dream should yank it away in offense. He should take his leave of Hob instantly for the familiarity, the daring. 

He did not. He merely stood frozen as Hob pressed his hand between both of his own. His touch was very warm.

“Keep all those things in mind,” Hob said. His eyes still glittered with tears, but his words were steady. “Those infinite things you know about the world. Wherever you’re going.”

“I have much in mind at all times,” Dream told him. Hob had no idea how much. 

Hob smiled at him sadly. “I’m sure. Just think about it, okay? Those doctors in those faraway places. Alright?”

Dream studied him, but gleaned no additional information from it. “Very well,” he said at last.

Hob squeezed his hand once more, then let him go.

A friend might comfort him again, in these circumstances. But Dream was not certain it was necessary. He could see in Hob, even now, the spine of a man who would not break, even when he was so far down.

It was… curious.

Hob bid him farewell, eyes just crinkling at the corners. “Until we meet again, dear stranger.”

Dream stepped back into the comforting arms of the Dreaming proper, discomfited by the moment in a way he could not quite pin down, and by his own willingness to stay and engage in it at all. To involve himself in Hob’s life in a way he had not intended. 

“Until then, Hob Gadling,” he said, letting the scene dissolve around them, “this dream is over.”

[howlsofbloodhounds]

A little trope I kinda like and find interesting is when Killer is portrayed as a snitch. Like he catches news of others trying to escape or any plans to attempt to overthrow or betray Nightmare and he goes straight to the Boss to tell him.

Could be for any reason. Spite, because Killer was not invited to this little escape plan. Not wanting to be left alone with Nightmare again. Loyalty, orders.

(conditioned to obey these specific rules after the first time he allowed other variants of Horror, Murder, maybe Cross/XChara to attempt to get away out of curiosity.

To see if it was actually possible, only for these past escape attempts to fail spectacularly in one way or another. To further prove to Killer that escape is impossible. And Nightmare tells Killer to immediately inform him of any future inconveniences, punishing accordingly.)

And then eventually maybe Killer evolves from his passive observer, snitch role and instead attempts to teach new comers to just survive instead. Perhaps if just to see if it’s possible for any of these things to learn.

And he does it in like a, blunt, detached sarcastic manner. It’s not overtly kind or in a traditionally helpful way.

Stage 2 Killer, characterized by his apathy and curiosity, taking a pragmatic and sometimes harsh approach to "helping" the others (particularly Murder, who he is always tasked to watch) adjust to life under Nightmare's rule. I think he’d also like getting to exert control and have power over someone else’s fate, too.

His methods would be more about survival and compliance that kindness or empathy, reflecting his own acceptance of his role.

He’d provide Murder with blunt, no-nonsense advice about how to avoid Nightmare's wrath and stay out of trouble.

This could include tips on how to behave, what to avoid saying, and how to recognize Nightmare's moods—such as paying extra attention to the way Nightmare’s tentacles behave, and building a rapport with his tentacles. (Pets, praise, not resisting against them.)

“If you don’t want to get hurt, don’t look him in the eye when he’s angry. Trust me."

“Don’t talk back. It’s not worth it. Just nod and do what he says."

Demonstrating how to act in Nightmare's presence, showing the benefits of compliance and submission, even if he does so in a detached or sarcastic manner.

“See? Just like this. You play along, you survive. Simple."

To make Murder understand the seriousness of their situation, Killer might use fear, recounting personal experiences or exaggerating the consequences of defiance.

“You think you can escape? I’ve seen what happens to those who try. You don’t want to end up like them."

Killer would test limits to see how much Murder can take, helping him toughen up in the face of adversity. This can be seen as cruel, but in Killer’s mind, it’s a way to prepare Murder for the worst.

“You need to toughen up. If you can’t handle this, how will you handle him?"

Killer would encourage Murder to be practical and focus on survival rather than escape, emphasizing the futility of resistance.

"Escape is a pipe dream. Focus on surviving. That’s the only way you’ll make it."

To force Murder to adapt, Killer might expose his weaknesses, making him confront his fears and adapt to the harsh reality.

“You’re too soft. If you don’t toughen up, you’re dead weight."

Killer might create situations that mimic potential dangers or challenges, forcing Murder to adapt and learn how to handle them.

“Consider this a test run. If you can handle this, you can handle anything he throws at you."

But Killer could also quickly lose interest in whoever he’s trying to teach, seeing it as pointless and meaningless anyway, boring.

He likely won’t give any praise for doing what he sees as the bare minimum or just something he thinks someone should already know how to do.

He likely won’t show any actual sympathy, empathy, or concern; instead he’s more likely to just encourage whoever he’s trying to “help” to ignore and neglect their own needs.

Whereas someone like Cross in this teaching position might do the pupil’s other half of the work when eyes aren’t watching to allow the other to get much needed rest, Killer would likely tell them to stop complaining and keep going.

He might get so bored he purposely does or says something to provoke Nightmare into punishing him, in an attempt to feel something or have something to do, but scold anyone else for doing the same—giving reasoning such as it hinders the rest of the group.

Whereas someone such as Cross may attempt to take the blame for someone else’s mistakes and their punishment out of the good of his heart, Killer may only do it if it’s beneficial, helps keep control of the situation, and if the mistake was truly because of something Killer did or didn’t do properly to explain the task to the person.

Otherwise Killer would likely give advice on how to endure a punishment if it can’t be avoided, how to figure out why it’s happening (if there is a reason), and to learn from mistakes without repeating them.

It gets especially interesting when this is all just a part of Killer’s responsibilities as Nightmare’s Right Hand, to not only keep them all in line but to also keep them all healthy.

Because even if Killer does objectively kind things like giving food/drink, offering blankets/pillows, or showing how to treat various wounds, the others might be able to see his apathy underneath the joking, silly facade and understand it’s just another task to him.

[mayapapaya33]

Despair and Edwin

Am I the only one who can't stop thinking about the metaphorical power of Edwin being IN Despair. He was in Hell, at his lowest, about to be cruel to one of his former tormentors. Feeling incredulous at their seemingly lesser punishment, feeling righteously indignant, and Justifiably pissed off. Then he caught a glance at himself in the mirror for what was presumably the first time in over a century and it snapped him out of it. Then he promptly fell into Despair.

Despair's Realm, as far as I am aware, is only accessible to those IN Despair, as in the emotional state. But why was he literally transported there, why could he see her watching through the mirror? She watches people's lowest moments through her mirrors all the time, how could Edwin see her?

Every word out of her mouth was fascinating to me, so much subtext, so many double meanings, I'm dying of curiosity.

"What Am I? The answers are Endless Edwin Payne. Pretty name. Payne/Pain."

His reaction to her saying the word Endless is VERY telling, clearly Edwin knows something about the Endless. Also that's just a very poetic way to describe Despair, she's right, an Endless number of things can cause Despair.

Edwin: "Why are you here?"

Despair: "You're here, I'm everywhere, you're in my realm now where I see it all. But you only get to leave through the door you came in by."

Is that a literal statement about a literal door? Perhaps but I HIGHLY doubt it. How did he get here? By feeling anger and pain and Despair about his treatment in Hell compared to one of the people responsible for sending him here and the injustice of it all. So how does he leave Despair's Realm then? Through the same door he entered. Confronting his feelings about Simon but not allowing them to control him or turn him into something he is not.

"I am Despair, and you do not belong here. Go back to your killer. I was watching. You were getting angry. About to gloat over his torment. Go do That."

E: "No no no no no I..." D: "Don't Worry, We're Friends now." E:"I would not gloat, That is not right." D: "I'll call if ever I need you" E:"He didn't realize-"

What does THAT mean? They're friends now? I am frothing at the mouth in anticipation to see what that is going to turn into. This is starting to dive into Sandman theories of mine so if you haven't read Sandman now's the time to leave.

She almost seemed to be HELPING Edwin confront his feelings. The way she phrased it was very provocative on purpose, it's something you might say to a friend if they're doing something out of character and you're trying to let them know it and snap them out of it. Granted in a Dramatic and Dickish way, but she is an Endless, so that's sort of a given. Why would she do that? Why would she help him Leave Despair?

Well, The Sandman comics are very Philosophical and layered, and one of the implications in the comics is that Each of the Endless embody their opposites in addition to their Named dominion. Dream is responsible for keeping Reality in check, Death is there when we are brought to Life, Destruction with those paintings and sculptures, constantly Creating things in his retirement, Delirium has moments where she is the only character who knows what is going to happen, Neil took joy in sneaking hints into her rambling, a special kind of Sanity, that is almost too painful and confusing to be tolerated for long, she knows things that aren't in Destiny's book, Desire has quite a lot of apathy in my opinion, and Destiny absolutely has a thing about Free Will. A big implication is that Despair also Embodies her seeming opposite, Hope!

What this means for Edwin in the future I have no clue lol.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

I'm sorry, but the leader of the LoV was Shimura Tenko. That's the whole point. Wanting to be a hero for the outcast was the part of him that persevered since his childhood despite the grooming. I don't get why people are treating the whole name thing similar to deadnaming or something, because it was a name given to him by his abuser for a character he was creating. Real people vs. their "characters"/alter egos is one of the prominent themes of the story. Any deviation from the character comes from Shimura Tenko, the real person behind the alter ego. Shigaraki Tomura is a "character" the same way All Might, Symbol of Peace, is. He is the Symbol of Fear. It's objectively a bad thing that he was still stuck as that Symbol in the end. Reclaiming the character doesn't work as a positive thing here. It's good that Deku was focused on Tenko, the problem was that he should've seen that Tomura is Tenko too. Instead he didn't engage with anything that had to do with Tomura.

Reading helped me understand why people would prefer the Tenko version, as much as it made me realize how much I disagree with that reading.

( Not necessarily a thi-or-that-is-correct situation. The way I see it, it's just a difference in both our interpretations of the story ).

You mention only one example, but it's you go to other characters for comparison, you're gonna find another themes:

Theme 1:

alter the egos as the real selves— or at least, alter egos revealing traits of the real selves that could not be because of prejudices.

Theme 2:

reshaping / reclaiming a stereotype beyond what others might believe or think of it.

Best example? Deku.

Originally, "Deku" was a mean name for Bakugo to make fun of this weak quirkless kid. It's with the help of Ochako that Izuku reshapes Deku into a new meaning and reclaims it as his hero name. He is not hiding behind it, tho. Deku is the version of Izuku wants to be— brave, heroic, strong.

When the UA kids tell their pro-hero names, they are shaping their future and themselves. Beyond the circumstances, they are deciding who they want to be. Another example of it are "Shoto" and "Ingenium". Shoto takes back his identity as a Todoroki as something to be proud of, while Iida decides he will continue the legacy of his brother.

None of those names mean something bad per se. They are not fake realities. Those names are what helped those kids be more confident and sure about themselves.

Now, the Symbol of Peace is that bad not 'cause it was bad from the beginning.

Toshinori was right at first. Society needed a real reason to believe everything would be okay. They needed an example, a champion. If someone does the impossible, then it's not so impossible, right?

The problem with that name is that people used it as an excuse to ignore individual responsibility.

" Why would I save a child when it's not my job and there are heroes who can do it? "

" Everything bad happens because pro-heroes couldn't prevent it and not because we ignored it out of apathy until it got this bad. "

Those type of things.

The "Symbol of Peace" was destroying Toshinori and the hero society because Yagi lost control over it. It didn't belong to him anymore, it was a myth, a public figure. It wasn't even him.

All Might was created when an insane quirkless kid proved the world wrong getting a quirk and facing the biggest threat out there.

Toshinori Yagi will always be All Might and that is something good. That means hope. That means he doesn't need powers to be dangerous, just like he demonstrated on the final war.

Now, I must mention that the pro-heroes naming convention is nothing like Tomura Shigaraki's situation inside the bnha world. It shares some of the dual identities themes of the story, but when you explain the circumstances, it clicks.

Tomura Shigaraki might have been created by AFO, but to say that the identity belongs to AFO alone because he created it would mean to deny the 15 years Tomura spent living as himself, no memories of who Tenko was.

In fact, Tenko and Tomura both share the fact that they were created by an oppressive person or household that tried their best to shape him as they wanted. The only moment in bnha where Tenko / Tomura decided who he wanted to be was when he chose to keep being the leader of the League of Villains.

By the way, AFO was the Symbol of Fear and they started calling Tomura that because he was going to become AFO's new vessel. He didn't want to be the Symbol of Fear at the end, but the leader of the LOV. When he asks Deku to tell Spinner his last words, he calls himself Tomura Shigaraki and not Tenko Shimura.

The final part of your asks is something I agree with. Deku was so focused on seeing past the mask that he didn't realize part of it was not a mask at all.

Well, let me correct myself.

Deku saw it and couldn't forgive him. Deku saw it and felt unsure about whether he actually saved him or not. Deku stood there, watched everything unfold and couldn't decide if the job had been done. All Might had to reassure him in that regard and we all know how wrong Toshinori constantly is about Tomura.

In a sense, I guess you can affirm that Tomura is Tenko or that Tenko is Tomura. It's more a matter of preference or interpretation what do you want to call him from here on (so far).

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I really love how you draw Karkat and Calliope. You've already talked about how the other relationships within the POABPCL, so I was wondering if you could talk about Callikar in more depth as well.

Heehee okay so the short reasoning is that first of all, Karkat is also highly reminiscent of Caliborn, so there's Calliope's natural attraction there. But also Calliope desperately wants to experience a flushed romance, and Karkat is a crazy person who can't keep his quadrants straight. Which, for Calliope, would actually be a plus instead of a minus????

But yeah, for the Caliborn similarities, apart from the grey text and (mostly) capital letters and general cantankerousness and candy red blood and random textual callbacks to shit Karkat says:

CG: OK I DON'T SEE HOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BECOMING FRIENDS IF YOU RECOIL FROM MY OLIVE BRANCH LIKE I'M WIGGLING A GNARLED TREE MONSTER'S DICK IN YOUR DIRECTION. [...] uu: HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BE BECOMING FRIENDS. IF YOU RECOIL FROM MY OLIVE BRANCH. uu: LIKE I'M FLAILING A WITHERED MUMMY'S SEVERED LIMB IN YOUR DIRECTION.

CG: THE FACT THAT YOU ARE DUMB CG: IS AN IMMUTABLE FACT I AM STATING FOR THE RECORD. CG: IT DOES NOT MEAN ANIMOSITY IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE. [...] uu: AND THE FACT THAT I MIGHT NOT CLuE YOu INTO YOuR FATE ALL THE TIME. uu: DuE TO MY AGGRAVATED APATHY OVER THE MATTER. uu: IS AN IMMuTABLE FACT. I AM STATING FOR THE RECORD. uu: IT DOES NOT MEAN THAT GIVING A SHIT IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE.

Did you know they both weirdly have a thing for right angles?

DAVE: i dont want to see your lines making any right angles do you understand KARKAT: IN MY MIND'S EYE I AM PICTURING A BEAUTIFUL LATTICE OF LINES AND COMPARTMENTS, INTERLOCKING WITH SUBLIME PRECISION AT NINETY DEGREE ANGLES. KARKAT: I IMAGINE THIS MODULAR RETICULATION AS AN ELEGANT VESSEL, IF YOU WILL, FOR THE GRAND SYNTHESIS OF OUR SHARED SHIPPING DREAMS.

So yeah, you know, they've got some similarities! Enough to fuel some initial cherubic romantic interest, I feel.

But obviously, cherubic romance is primarily - if not exclusively - pitch. Calliope expresses this in a way that makes it very much sound like it's a setup that her happy ending does, in fact, involve her finding a matesprit.

UU: thoUgh i trUly wish i were capable of those feelings. UU: perhaps the fact that i am not is why the topic fascinates me so. UU: and why i have been prone do indUlge in sUch... UU: fancifUl visUalizations. UU: of yoUr people's lovely bright red relationships. UU: they mUst be nice. u_u

Personally, I think that cherubs "can't experience redrom" the way humans "can't experience blackrom". In that, y'know. ;)

But let's move from Calliope's side from a moment and talk about Karkat. Hey, do y'all remember how he had a crush on a different Space player? (The fact that Karkat actually totally had a crush on Jade, and continued to think incredibly fondly of her for years after the fact, to the point of using one of her passwords as the password to his dream hive, gets lost in the melange of ~yaoi~ is honestly one of the reasons I'm not a fan of DaveKat).

CCG: I'M GOING TO VOMIT. CCG: I'M MAKING A MENTAL NOTE TO SLAP MYSELF THREE HOURS FROM NOW, FOR BEING ENOUGH OF A SAP TO START DEVELOPING RED FEELINGS FOR A DUMB ANNOYING HUMAN, IF I'M READING BETWEEN THE LINES CORRECTLY. FCG: I JUST SLAPPED MYSELF! I REMEMBERED MY LAME NOTE TO MYSELF FROM THREE HOURS AGO, AND THEN SLAPPED MYSELF SPECIFICALLY TO MOCK YOU. FCG: IT STINGS TOO, YOU'LL FEEL IT IN A WHILE. AND THEN THE GHOST OF PAST ME WILL CRY.

Hussie's commentary on this is also fucking hilarious, by the way:

First, by defending Jade like this, Future Karkat is virtually making the case to his own past self to give her a chance, and to try to acknowledge that his aggression toward her is masking romantic attraction. If that wasn't nuts enough, the altercation doubles as an actual confession of this to Jade, which she now has to bear in mind as she goes forward befriending this guy. Like most other shouting matches Karkat has with himself, it's a complete free-for-all of self-owns and eyebrow-raising psychological revelations. And yet, in the totality of this clusterfuck, it's probably about as sufficient as anything else he could have done to get her to start giving the friendship a chance. How do you sidle out of something like this? You don't. This miserable basket case needs all the help he can get.

But this is another example of Karkat's horrible problem with mixing his quadrants and sending out all sorts of mixed signals, which he lambastes himself for later RE: Terezi.

FCG: IS IT?? TELL ME, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU TREATED HER IN A WAY THAT COULD BE OBJECTIVELY CONSTRUED AS A FORM OF BLACK SOLICITATION? CCG: THAT'S JUST CCG: NO, THAT'S HOW WE'VE ALWAYS ROLLED TOGETHER. IT'S LIKE CCG: SPIRITED PLATONIC CONTENTION. CCG: TOTALLY NORMAL TERRITORY IN A HEALTHY MATESPRITSHIP. FCG: YEAH, A *HEALTHY* ONE, NOT ONE INVOLVING A DEMENTED LOUDMOUTH WHO CAN'T KEEP HIS SHIT UNDER CONTROL. FCG: LET ME ASK YOU, HOW MUCH OF THAT ANIMOSITY IS INNOCENT "PLATONIC RAGE"? FCG: COULD IT BE THAT SUBCONSCIOUSLY YOU WANT TO PUSH THINGS WITH HER ONTO CALIGINOUS TURF, MAYBE SEE HOW THINGS WORK OUT THERE? FCG: SEE IF YOU CAN HAVE YOUR GRUB, AND CULL IT TOO?? FCG: THAT WAY YOU HAVE HER ALL TO YOURSELF!

And even his "confession" to jade has shades of this, as he basically forced her to auspicetize between himself and... himself. Just a really messy guy who can't keep his quadrants straight. I've already talked before about how this would be completely fine for Eridan, who is literally too bad at social shit to notice and is just happy for the attention, but... doesn't that seem like it would work for Calliope, whose fundamental attraction model is based in pitch?

And to really get into this, we should also talk about Karkat's taste in movies. The three posters he has hanging up in his room are for Serendipity, Hitch, and 50 First Dates. Between the three of them, it becomes really clear that Karkat is really into the idea of soul mates - of finding a romantic partner that just kind of perfectly clicks with you and all your idiosyncracies, with whom the romance is natural, and brings out the best in both partners.

Serendipity most obviously, as the entire movie is practically a treatise on destiny and fate (and also, if you're only going to watch one, watch this one - it gets namedropped twice in the comic and I genuinely think HS draws like 30% of its DNA from it). Hitch's A-plot couple is widely considered the worse one, but the B-plot couple turn out to be perfect for each other - all the guy's lame, embarrassing aspects just happen to be what she finds adorable, and he just needed a courage boost and chance to be noticed by her. And 50 First Dates features a guy in Hawaii who loves taking visiting tourists on whirlwind romances, but is terrified of commitment, meeting a girl who can't make new memories - functionally rendering every date their first from her perspective - and it's really sweet. It doesn't even make you want to punch Adam Sandler at all. Like, not even a little bit.

In any case, what this says to me is that, while he still needs to undergo character development to be ready for it, the romance Karkat should eventually end up with is one where he doesn't have to compromise who he is, warts and all.

A lot of Karkat's more common fandom pairings tend to downplay, or even outright forget about, how genuinely uncomfortable it is to experience Karkat's nutso vascillation. Even if the edge is taken off via moirallegiance, Karkat is still the sort of messy guy who tells his flushed crush to "set the table on [his] bulge for their candle light hate date." Jade clearly isn't a fan of being treated rudely, while Terezi eventually gets driven off by the mixed signals he puts off... but what if there was a species who primarily experiences pitch attraction, who would find Karkat's frequent dips into black-coded flirtation hot?

And also... Karkat is obviously Calliope's favorite character troll...I mean, she's got his symbol as her cufflinks. And also:

CG: I THINK THIS SUBJECT IS BEYOND A LOT OF PEOPLE'S GRASP BUT I KNOW A LOT ABOUT IT, NOBODY EVER REALLY WANTS TO TALK TO ME ABOUT IT THOUGH. AG: Whoa really? Oh no shit, REALLY???????? CG: OK, MOST PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T HAD THEIR LOBE STEM CAUTERIZED ARE CAPABLE OF FEELING THE TWO PRIMARY EMOTIONS, HATE AND PITY. CG: PITY IS OF COURSE JUST THE TONED DOWN VERSION OF THE CENTRAL EMOTION, HATE. CG: AND ALL THE NUANCES OF PITY MANIFEST AS VARIOUS OTHER KINDS OF FEELINGS LIKE WHATEVER CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FONDESS OR THE MYSTERIOUS FORCES THAT ARE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE.

And:

UU: actUally, i have written hUndreds of pages examining the striking differences between hUman and troll romance, as well as reprodUctive habits, as the comparison makes for a marveloUs case stUdy in xenobiocUltUral differences. UU: as long as i am sharing specUlation with yoU, perhaps yoU woUld like to read my essays? UU: i coUld even paste each page right here in sUccession, and allow yoU to read them back to back to back to back to back to back! ^u^ TT: Oh hell no. UU: ah. UU: yes, yoU're right of coUrse. i'm probably getting carried away as UsUal. UU: forgive my enthUsiasm, it's jUst that i so rarely have anyone to talk to who shares my passion for these matters.

They could both be SO ANNOYING about quadrants and romance together. It would be beautiful.

[what-even-is-thiss]

As a writer and as a person I’m not great at uncritically romanticizing things. However, I do tend to be more optimistic than I look.

My optimism though is more… I dunno. Compulsory? Like I’ve decided I’m gonna be a writer despite the fact that it’s nearly impossible to make a living doing that. Why? Well, someone out there has to create entertainment and new literature. And if I feel called to do that I might as well just do it even if the odds are against me.

I assume that peoples intentions are good until proven otherwise because what’s the alternative? Living my life in a little shell? Distrusting everyone forever? I’m not interested in that.

Like someone around here has to have hope for the future, goddamnit. And you can’t always assume that someone else is gonna do that for you. So I’ll follow my dreams and hope for the future even if it kills me. I’m gonna roll up my sleeves and take life one step at a time because if I fall into despair and apathy then The Man wins and I’m not about to let that happen.

[hayleysayshay]

Honestly one of the things that bothers me as well relating to what you mentioned with everyone being there for Percy’s ritual and Scanlan not getting the courtesy is that in the show there’s a parallel to be made between Percy and Scanlan with how their depression and guilt affect their will to live. (Scanlan’s apathy particularly highlighted in episode 8 and then Pike’s realization of his depression worsening his state of unconsciousness, telling Kaylie that she’s the only person that might give him the will to live anymore). When it comes to saving Percy, there is this big event around it, Vex and Vax will RISK things to fight for Percy’s will and everyone is there waiting when he returns. I understand the circumstances were different bc Percy had an actual resurrection but with Scanlan’s struggles as a whole, no one outside of Pike even knows about it or acknowledges it, as him being comatose was apparently not even something worth acknowledging. In the show it genuinely just feels like no one would risk anything for him as opposed to the campaign where that statement felt more of a result of Scanlan’s depression and self loathing.

And I think what adds the insult to injury is that the season even ends with Scanlan subtly acknowledging his depression with Vox Machina for the first time, he finally mentions to everyone that he felt he didn’t have purpose with them and yet there’s still no group acknowledgment of it, it’s just used as a transition into the party disbanding as a whole. And as a result instead of being left with a feeling of “I hope Scanlan can work out his interpersonal struggles with Vox Machina in the future” I’m just left with a feeling of “why would Scanlan even want to return to Vox Machina in the future”.

Sorry this was very long winded! Your post just articulated some thoughts I was sitting on lol

Yeah yeah yeah.

Like, Vox Machina just… stand around.

There’s no real reaction to Scanlan’s anxieties, the whole group feels passive in relation to Scanlan. They’re a bit more active in Percy’s death, although I think there’s some of the same issues with Percy’s death as with Scanlan — the prioritisation of romance over platonic relationships (Vex gets far more than the others, the rest do the sad face emoji :() but at least the others sit with the grief for a bit, we get a funeral, it does end up changing the group dynamic. Scanlan comes back and nothing really changes.

I want Scanlan to be an arsehole and snap at Vox Machina! I want them to snap back and handle it poorly, making it worse, proving Scanlan right in his eyes, whilst they just feel unreasonably attack. I want them to vent their emotions! I just want them to interact with each other.

I want stupid discourse posts about who was right because at least the audience having an emotional reaction is something. This boring lack of conflicts guts Scanlan of his character, and also makes the bonds feel weaker. Because if you’re not close with someone, it hurts less if they ignore you. A grievance with a passing aquaintence doesn’t hurt so much. Scanlan has all this insecurities, but because Vox Machina is so uninvolved, it means they feel less like friends as a result. Scanlan’s issues are mostly with Kaylie, Kaylie comes back, so I guess all is well.

And the thing is, I think the group would risk anything for Scanlan because they’ll just write it in. But they’re not laying the ground work of the group being honest, or dishonest, with each other. So when they do risk it all for each other, it’ll feel hollow. The show says they’re friends but they don’t show them being friends.

[4dkellysworld]

Signs of Progress

The below is the result of a conversation I had with ChatGPT which I edited a bit. I thought it was great and might be useful to some so wanted to share it here. These are some signs that you've made progress on this path (it expands on what Lester talks about). I think it paints a pretty good picture of what it looks like when one has progressed on this path and can be helpful to check in with yourself and your practices (although do this from a place of peace and freedom, not from ego!).

Detachment from Ego and Self-Identification

Dissolving of Personal Story: The story of “me” becomes less dominant in your thoughts. You stop identifying with past experiences, achievements, or failures, and see them as events that happened to the body-mind but not to your true self. The constant narrative of “who you are” loses its significance.

Decreased Ego Involvement: Ego-driven thoughts like “I need to prove myself” or “I must protect my image” become rare. You no longer feel the need to build an identity through actions, achievements, or relationships. When ego-driven desires arise, you notice them and let them pass without identifying with them.

Ongoing Release of Ego Concepts: You have let go of many ego-driven thoughts, beliefs, and past conditioning, recognizing them as not truly you. You can recognize when egoic thoughts or reactions arise, but instead of getting pulled into them, you watch them like passing clouds. As ego concepts arise, you continue to observe them without attachment, understanding that these are just passing mental phenomena rather than aspects of your true self. There’s a growing distance between these thoughts and your awareness, which makes it easier to remain non-identified. This ongoing process of recognizing and releasing these patterns helps you stay detached from the ego and reinforces your non-identification with it.

Not Labelling or Adding Meaning: You no longer define, label or attach significance, meaning, stories or judgments to life and its experiences—everything is seen as simply neutral. You perceive events and sensations without categorizing them as good or bad, right or wrong, this or that. This allows you to maintain a neutral and clear awareness, and engage with life directly and openly, free from the distortions of personal judgments and biases. By not attaching any meaning, you allow each moment to be experienced in its pure form.

Indifference and Non-Resistance

Emotional Detachment: You find yourself emotionally neutral, regardless of circumstances. Feelings may arise, but they pass through without sticking to you, without your involvement. This doesn’t mean apathy, but rather that you aren’t emotionally swayed by external events or your own thoughts. There’s an inner stability that isn’t disrupted by the ups and downs of life.

Consistent Indifference to Externals: You are consistently indifferent to the world’s events. This doesn’t mean you don’t care, but that the happenings of the external world don’t disturb your inner peace regardless of what happens. You watch them with detachment, knowing that they don’t define you.

Non-Resistance to Pain or Discomfort: Physical or emotional discomfort is less likely to throw you into resistance or avoidance. You recognize that pain is a passing experience, not something to be attached to or defined by, allowing you to experience it without adding suffering through mental resistance.

Presence and Flow

Living in the Now: You spend far less time in your mind thinking about the past or future. Being present in the moment becomes your default state. The mind quiets down, and you’re more present in the here and now, with fewer distractions pulling you away from the present. You find a natural ease in maintaining a calm, unobtrusive mental state.

Openness to Life’s Flow: You stop resisting life’s natural rhythm. There’s an acceptance that whatever happens is part of a greater unfolding. You trust the process, even when it doesn’t align with your preferences. You are open and allow whatever may happen, even when it brings discomfort, because you’re no longer attached to how things “should” be.

Effortlessness in Action: There’s a shift where actions become more effortless, as though life is flowing through you rather than you trying to push or force things to happen. You no longer feel the pressure of “making things happen” but instead act naturally in each moment as needed, without the stress of outcome-based thinking.

Fresh Innocence and Curiosity: You approach life with a child-like sense of curiosity, exploring experiences with wonder and without preconceived judgments. You see life with a sense of innocence and an open and fresh perspective, allowing experiences to unfold without attaching meaning or being affected by past beliefs, feelings or experiences. This allows you to experience each moment as it is—fresh and unfiltered. You engage with the world playfully and openly, treating each moment as a fresh discovery rather than through the lens of past conditioning.

Freedom without Expectations

Freedom from Expectations: You let go of expectations, both from yourself and others. Instead of being driven by future outcomes or the desire for things to go a certain way, you’re more focused on simply being and allowing life to unfold. "Your" actions are more about allowing the flow of life to happen as it does rather than controlling or predicting it.

A Growing Sense of Freedom: There’s an expanding sense of freedom, not tied to circumstances, but coming from the inner realization that you are not bound by the mind, ego, or external world. This freedom is quiet but profound, where life’s pressures and demands lose their hold over you.

Acceptance of Impermanence: You come to deeply understand that everything in the external world is transient. Rather than clinging to experiences, objects, or people, you accept that everything is in constant change. You stop resisting this fact, which results in less struggle and more inner peace.

Joy and Connection

Spontaneous Joy or Contentment: As identification decreases, you might notice a natural sense of joy, peace, or contentment arising, not because of any external reason, but simply because you’re no longer entangled with ego. This joy is subtle and doesn’t depend on outer conditions; it’s a result of being at ease with what is.

Deeper Connection to Others and Nature: As ego identification fades, you may feel a deeper sense of connection to others, not from needing validation, but from genuine compassion and empathy. You might also feel more connected to nature as the boundaries between "you" and the world soften.

Synchronicity and Harmony

Synchronicity and Flow: As you detach from controlling life and the mind, you may notice an increase in synchronicities—meaningful coincidences that feel as though life is guiding you. Life unfolds in a way that feels more harmonious, and things “just happen” without you trying to force them.

[shortnotsweet]

APPLES IN THE SKY (excerpt from THE THRILLING AND NOT AT ALL REPETITIVE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN MAN AND KID DANGER: “A CHRONOLOGY OF ENTIRELY TRUE AND HEROIC EVENTS COINCIDING WITH THE END OF HISTORY”) [1] [2] [3] [4]

[ Henry’s face is unreadable. In the background, desert mountains and vegetation rush past. Smoke rises in the distance, backlighting ambiguous red shapes that could be plant life, flaming crosses, or even ominous figures. The camera cuts to the back of the car with the invalid license plate reading “HERO”, speeding towards a red horizon. Ray twists back in his seat with a smile, reflected in the lens of Henry’s sunglasses. In the review mirror, Henry’s expression is contemplative. The shot pans to a bird’s eye view of the car eating up highway miles. ]

Charli XCX’s “Apple” from BRAT (2024): “I guess the apple could turn yellow or green. I know there's lots of different nuances to you and to me—I wanna grow the apple, keep all the seeds, but I can't help but get so angry you don't listen to me. To the airport—the airport.”

PANEL NOTES:

The smoke is an implication of wildfires in the surrounding area, which Henry and Ray simply drive past because there’s nothing else to do. Maybe those days are behind them. Maybe they’re just not adept in the art of firefighting, and the bigness of a wildfire is too rural or too raw for them to even adress. I think there’s a sort of irony to it, and it’s either heroes ignoring a disaster past their prime or simple not caring; they’re speeding off into an undefined future and therefore no longer grappling with apathy, but sliding into it. Thus, the road is interpreted as a junction between natural conflict running its course and urban obligation.

This was vaguely inspired, albeit not lifted directly, from my millionth or so reread of “Cuticle Tear” by atbash on AO3. Granted, it takes place in a broken-down truck and is not needlessly melodramatic, but AO3 user atbash does more with obligatory dialogue and omitted assumptions than I could do in 20 panels or so.

Specifically, the lyric “‘cause I’ve been looking at you so long now I only see me. I wanna throw the apple into the sky, feels like you never understand me, so I just wanna drive…” struck me as somewhat in line with the feeling—and example—I got from the fic.

Of course, neither yellow or green are used in the actual color palette, but the song carries themes of intertwined identity and generational effects passed down. I think Ray has imparted a lot of the best and worst things about himself to Henry, through the means of their friendship, professional, and mentor relationship. He’s not his dad. It’s worse, almost, that he’s not, because then it would at least be hereditary.

“Apple” is my favorite BRAT (2024) song right now, so of course it’s stuck in my head; I think there’s a flippant, escapist quality to it and can imagine two friends listening to it on the highway, checking out, but also—there’s not quite a realization, more like an unspoken feeling that what you are is a product. And it’s someone else’s fault. And when you look at each other, you’re seeing something else, or maybe you’re trying to. There’s something distantly escapist and obviously upbeat about the song, but there’s a disdain there, too.

It’s hardly visible, but the license plate on the car reads “HERO” singular, which is invalid but implies they have either a fake plate or Swellview is just so strange that their town itself has exceptions as to how they’re issued, again violating the laws and conventional physics of surrounding territory. They’re a weird exception, as always, and they’re getting away with it.

Their identities are so intertwined at this point that theyre conflated, so there’s an obligatory ego flattening going on as well as an erasure of both or one of them—most likely Henry’s—to accommodate. You might call it being a teammate, although how Henry feels about it after all this time is unsure.

Ray did this to him, the good and the bad doesn’t matter; it’s the fact that he did it.

[spid3r-trans]

hi !! i came from ao3 and as a drabble request maybe you can do hobie meeting miles’ friends (e.g. ganke or maybe some ocs)

love ur work 🫶🏽

Miles spends most of his weekends with Hobie.

And lunch periods.

And patrols after school.

And evenings.

And– well, you get the point.

Still, despite the easy way they fell into each other’s lives, Miles’ worlds remain mostly separate.

His parents have met Hobie, that’s at least one secret Miles no longer has to keep. He brings Hobie to most of his family’s parties as a plus one, and his mother always sets an extra place at the dinner table for him – Miles doesn’t even have to ask anymore. But it’s more than that.

Hobie himself is his own world to Miles.

There’s home, and then there’s Hobie. There’s hero work, and there’s Hobie. There’s school, and still, there’s Hobie.

In all of the challenges Miles must face, through the dangers that each day brings, and despite all of the lies and alibis he has to create— Hobie is there. Tethering him to the things that really matter, to the person he really is.

But when Hobie comes crashing in through his dorm window, words collide.

Miles’ friends at school have known something is up. Especially Ganke, who sees his roommate even less than usual. For the most part, Ganke assumes it’s spider-related extracurricular activities— but he’s pretty sure fighting crime doesn’t make you smile at your phone and kick your feet.

Or sneak out of the dorms after hours.

Or doodle hearts on everything.

Or— well, you get the point.

Regardless of the telltale signs, he’s busy with his own interests. If Miles has something he wants to tell him, Ganke knows he’ll say it when he’s ready.

That’s how he thought it would play out, anyway.

Ganke is used to the window of their dorm room being open. Miles is in and out, constantly. Which, really, could be worse. He’d rather have Spider-Man as a roommate than half the other kids at this school— only it’s not the Spider-Man he’s expecting that swings in.

Hobie’s boots land heavily on the hardwood flooring, making Ganke cringe. The kids in the dorm room below already hate them, and this has surely guaranteed that another passive aggressive note will be slipped under the door in the near future. Ganke shakes his head, he can deal with that at another time, he has more pressing matters at hand.

The boy in front of him seems restless— agitated— but not dangerous. His head snaps as he looks around, the lenses of his mask narrowed as he searches for... something.

Ganke doesn’t exactly have training for a situation like this. He stays standing near the outskirts of the room, unsure.

“Uh, can I help yo-”

“I’m looking for Miles.”

Ganke has to blink several times to maintain his composure. The silence does nothing to curb Hobie’s distress.

“Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting the accent. Wow. You are super cool though.”

The lenses of the mask stay narrowed. Hobie knows Ganke. He recognizes him from pictures and stories that Miles tells about their antics, so he knows Ganke is aware of Miles’ alter ego— he’s just not grasping the urgency of the situation.

“Listen, alright?” Hobie says, not bothering to hide the slight edge that cuts through his voice, “Miles went out last night to fight a bad guy — a really bad guy — and no one’s been able to get ‘hold of him since. He should be here. Do you know where he is?”

Ganke shrugs slightly, trying to feign apathy.

“I don’t really keep track. I’m not really his ‘guy in the chair,’ y’know?”

It’s not his finest moment. He can tell Hobie is frowning even with the mask obscuring his face.

Ganke has to physically place himself between Hobie and the door to stop him from storming out. He might not be Miles’ “guy in the chair,” but letting a superhero from another dimension walk through the halls of their private school seems like a really bad idea— especially when said superhero seems amped up enough to go through hell and back for Miles. It doesn’t really seem like a good headspace to be thinking through any decisions.

“He’s fine, okay?” Ganke tells him, “he was here this morning!”

Hobie stills, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I think he’s got class,” Ganke explains, eyes darting to the clock on the wall, “he should be coming back soon if you…want to…wait.”

He can’t really take back the words once he’s said them, but he has no idea how he’s going to keep the protective vigilante distracted until Miles gets back. Hobie seems skeptical, he hesitates, and Ganke thinks that he won’t even take him up on the offer— and then he sighs, pulling off his mask and relenting.

Before Ganke can stop himself, the words are out of his mouth.

“How are you even cooler under your mask?” He asks. It must’ve been the right thing to say, since despite his worry, Hobie cracks a smile.

“I was this cool the whole time.”

—

Every part of Miles is sore. All he wants to do is lay down and never think about bad guys or biochemistry or both ever again.

He thinks he did okay on the test, passed it at least, but he could’ve done better if he had slept at all or could hold his pencil without his bruised knuckles aching. To say he’d gotten a little beaten up was an understatement. He can’t even message his friends to complain about it because his phone snapped clean in half during the fight. God, his parents are going to kill him.

He turns the key to his dorm, pushing it open, but stopping dead in his tracks at the scene in front of him.

Ganke is sitting on the top bunk— it’s Miles’ bed but it’s not that unusual for him to be up there. What is unusual is that Hobie is sitting beside him, perched on the metal bed rail with a video game controller clutched in his hands— tapping away while Ganke cheers him on loudly.

Miles puts his bag on the ground, kicking the door closed behind him.

“So, uh, what’s going on here?”

The game is immediately forgotten, Hobie discarding the controller as he drops down in a fluid motion to put his arms around Miles.

“I told you he’d be back, see?” Ganke says, peering down at them with a smile that’s a little too smug.

Hobie pulls back from Miles, one of his hands finding Miles’ cheek as he inspects him for visible injuries.

“I’m good, I’m good, I promise.” Miles lets out a breathless laugh, before a realization hits him. “Did you cross dimensions just to check on me?”

“You haven’t been answering messages from anyone.” Hobie says pointedly.

“I know, my phone broke when-”

Ganke leans forward, interrupting the moment.

“Miles, you didn’t tell me the person you’re dating is so cool! I can’t believe you didn’t bring him around sooner!”

Neither of them can hide the red that colors their cheeks.

“Yeah, well,” Miles shrugs, “I guess he is pretty cool.”

[u-ntitled-s-eries]

Chanedlure!Ingo x Reader - Corpse Bride(?)

With the wedding rehearsal in less than an hour, it was inevitable that you would come face to face with your future husband, something you still had yet to ready yourself for. However, you would have never expected that he would seek you out right before the ceremony and would approach you when the rest of his family had wandered off with yours to discuss matters in private. Still, the man standing before you looked like nothing less than a gentleman, calm and kind.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He spoke soft and low. Much quieter than you expected from the son of a man such as Ghetsis.

“The pleasure is all mine, Natura.” Unable to meet his gaze, you instead cast your eyes downwards as you mumbled your response.

“Please, no need for such formalities.” He stepped closer, waiting until you granted him permission before sitting beside you. “My father and sisters call me N; it’s only fitting that you are allowed to do the same.”

“Very well then… N.” You could feel your heart thundering in your ribcage. Whether from embarrassment or excitement, you hadn’t the faintest idea.

“When Father first told me about the arrangement, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it." He finally said after some silence, yet not unkindly. "Marriage always felt so far away, and when the thought of it did cross my mind I always hoped I would marry for love. I supposed I was a little too hopeful.”

“I supposed…” You couldn’t help but nod along with him, only stopping when you realize what you just agreed to. “No, of course not! If it weren’t for our current circumstances, I would want the same. That’s not to say I’m opposed to marrying you, simply that I would choose to… fall in love first.”

Against your better judgement, you lifted your gaze and caught a glimpse of N smiling back at you.

“Perhaps you still can.”

- - - - - - - -

By now the entire town has caught word of how disastrously the wedding rehearsal unfurled, so you walk until you reach the forest, as it’s only there that you are truly safe from the stares and whispers that seemed to wait at every street corner. Perhaps your fears were well-founded after all, N would be better off marrying someone of nobility.

For goodness sake, you couldn’t even recite a single vow without so much as stuttering or fumbling a word.

“This shouldn’t be so difficult; all I need to do is repeat the words.” You mutter to no one, eyes cast down and feet dragging across the forest floor. Remembering the vows as they were recited during the rehearsal, you raise your left hand, as if resting above N’s. “With this hand, I will… hold your- No, wait, that doesn’t sound right.”

Further and further, into the woods you wander. The only company you have are a few stray Corviknights, staring at you with sunken red eyes from up above.

“With this ring, I will be your… It’s not ‘I will be your wife.’ Is it?” One of your new companions responds with a lone raspy cry.

Deeper you go, wandering and wondering even as the day fades and makes way for the moonlight.

“With this… candle - yes, start from the candle. With this candle, I will…”

What was it?

“I will…”

The urge to cry out in frustration persists, but you haven’t the strength to muster a shout. Instead, you hand your head in defeat. “I will set your sister on fire.”

Exhausted and confused, you decide to rest your weary feet on a fallen tree. At this rate, there might not even be a wedding. The golden band may as well be cast from lead with how heavy it weighs. But as the ring rests in the palm of your hand, you can’t help but think back to what N had shared with you.

Even when the rest of the room watched on with apathy and disdain, he still gave you fleeting glances and soft smiles. The choice to fall in love; that’s what he had offered you, is it not? With one last spark of hope, you held the ring in one hand and stood up, recalling the vows that had been recited this morning.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

While his father made no attempt to hide his contempt for the marriage, his sisters at least greeted you and your family with some level of hospitality. What are the odds Anthea would be willing to overlook today’s fiasco? Perhaps, in due time, you can make amends with her.

“With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring,”

Spying a nearby sapling poking out from the snow, you kneel down.

“I ask you to be mine.”

And you place the ring on a branch. It shines brightly on the blackened bark, and the sound you make can only be described as euphoric. Perfectly recited without any hesitation. Another Corviknight calls down, as if in celebration.

Then another. And another.

If you had waited to look for just a second longer, perhaps you would have spotted the ‘sapling’s branches twitch and jerk. But instead, you turned around and looked up to see over a dozen- no, two dozen pairs of beady faces staring back. And as they continued their crying and cawing, just barely noticeable over the whistle of the wind, you could just faintly hear… music.

Something grabs your wrist and yanks.

Hard.

The snow doesn’t even crunch as you’re pulled to the ground, and any sounds you make are swallowed up by the melody growing louder and the chorus of birds above. They leap from their branches with ready wings and talons, as if to descend upon you. Finally regaining your senses, you dig your heels into the dirt and pull your arm back.

Whatever it is that’s gripping your wrist tightens its hold, squeezing down on your skin. More and more black emerges from the snow as you use all of your weight to pull free. You don’t even think to scream, only to close your eyes and struggle against this thing dragging you down. But finally there’s a snap of twigs breaking and you’re free, stumbling back without anything to catch you. The frozen solid ground may as well be stone against your skull. Dazed, you lift your hand to your head and see what it is that grabbed you.

A skeletal arm with bones of pure black, wrapped in vines and tattered cloth clenches its fingers around your arm.

Your screams join the circling Corviknights and you tear the thing off, tossing it away.

The ground underneath rumbles, like giant metal cogs turning, and out of the corner of your eye the snow begins to stir. It heaves and jolts, then bursts open. A gloved hand emerges from the ground and claws into the snow, followed by a shoulder and neck. And as you see this shape pull itself from the earth, bones and branches snapping, the music never once stops.

And there, where you one knelt, stood a looming figure cast in black. With its one hand, it lifted the cap upon its head, revealing a sickly pale face with yellow eyes and blackened lips.

“I do.”