#no those two tags don't contradict each other

[fandoms-in-law]

Ghostly Assistance

Summary: In 1989 Charles and Edwin have only been friends a few months when Steve and Robin meet them, sent to England by El who insists someone in London can help them get Eddie back. Steve isn't pleased when the ghosts suggest it sounds like Eddie is dead but Edwin and Charles agree to help regardless.

Author's note: Anyone else wonder how the detectives got their office? Cause I do. Also yeah, my idea for today was angsty and that's basically never my vibe. Thank you that this is out of my brain now, it's over shadowed multiple of the fics I've been writing this month just by knowing it was coming up at some point. Also decided my idea doesn't work for questions the fic and Steve bring up quite vehemently.

My Idea prompt for today: Steve finds out he can see ghosts by meeting the Dead Boy Detectives, which would be fun if it didn't explain why he's been able to see and hang out with Eddie when no-one else can. They'd hoped it was some upside down thing instead

/\/\

Eddie was alive; he had to be. Steve could see him, talk to him, just not touch him, but that just meant he was trapped in the Upside Down and they needed to save him. It couldn’t mean he was dead, no matter how the kids worried.

If Steve was somehow seeing a ghost, he’d surely be seeing more of them around Hawkins. It would be ludicrous to suppose that out of everyone killed by the Upside Down, Russians and US experimentation, only Eddie had become a ghost.

His faith in Eddie being alive, and El’s certainty there were people in London who could help bring him back was everything pushing him onto the plane, and Robin coming along made it almost feel like a holiday for them. Time away with his best friend to help save the man that meant so much to them all. It felt more like the adventures the kids described from their DnD games than anything they’d gone through yet.

Three years of quiet from the Upside Down, of worrying that it might come back but being assured by Will and El something was preventing that, assured by Eddie that he’d let them know if something bad was about to happen, and they finally had names of people El was sure would help. Even if the threat of danger wasn’t gone from Hawkins it was at least quiet enough for the trip to happen. Especially when they ensured their return flights could be brought forward free of charge.

/\/\

The names El had given them weren’t in any London phone book Robin had found and she’d taken to leading them around London, as if hoping to just run into them somehow. Steve didn’t think that would work but he also hadn’t been allowed to keep the note El had written with the names of who they were looking for.

Just having it calmed some of Robin’s frantic energy over doing this so he hadn’t argued that much. He was beginning to want to know what the names were though, having forgotten since boarding their flight.

Just as he turned to ask her Steve realised he’d been about to walk into a very formally dressed boy and dodged out of the way, tugging Robin further in also as a second boy was talking to the first he’d seen. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He apologised quickly as the odd looks he received.

“Steve?” Robin asked, sounding bewildered.

The formally dressed boy just nodded, ��It’s fine.” He said, nodding and turning as if to carry on, but the second boy paused a moment, looking him over as if wanting to say more.

“Why are you talking to the air? What’s with yanking me here? Nobody is there.” Robin huffed, pulling herself out of his grip to gesture directly at the two boys.

“What?” Steve frowned now looking at her in confusion, “Oh, have a good day,” He called after the boys, focusing back on his friend, “The boys we just passed? They’re right there, still.”

She shook her head, following his gesture again, “Nope, nobody other than us on this street.”

“I don’t know what prank you’re trying to pull, Robs, but they’re blatantly there.” He huffed, gesturing again as if that would force her to stop denying it.

The second boy, more casually dressed, made a thoughtful noise, “You think it’d help to tell him we’re ghosts?”

Steve turned at that, eyes narrowed and looking over them again. “I’d know if I could see ghosts. Hawkins must have tons by this point.”

“Who mentioned ghosts, Steve?” Robin gripped his upper arm, looking around confused and concerned now.

“He did!” Steve repeated, gesturing back to the pair.

She shook her head, “Nobody is there.”

“Where is Hawkins and why would there be a lot of ghosts there?” The formally dressed boy had pulled out a notebook and was looking at him intrigued.

“Just admit is Eddie somehow got here.” Robin carried on, talking over him as if she couldn’t hear him at all and Steve was beginning to believe she wasn’t joking or just acting like she couldn’t.

He still glared at her and the boys. “It’s not Eddie and Hawkins, Indiana, America. The amount of death and shit that’s gone on in that town in the last 6 years, there’d be more than enough ghosts I’d know I could see them before now.” He huffed, but held up a hand when he could see another question about to be asked, “And Eddie is someone stuck in the Upside Down who I can see like you, she can’t and do not suggest he’s anything but alive.”

The casually dressed boy laughed, “Mate, you named somewhere the Upside Down? What is it? A pub?”

“Also I would assume Eddie is, in fact, dead, if as you say, you see him like us while others cannot.” The formal boy added.

Steve didn’t reply to either of them, turning to head back the way they’d come as quickly as he could while still walking.

Robin hesitated, looking around where they’d been before jogging to catch up. “Steve? Steve, Don’t storm off. I’ll get lost! Or you will.” She called, only pausing for a second after catching him up to place a comforting hand on his back, “Did the ghosts suggest Eddie’s dead?”

“He’s not dead.” He insisted.

She didn’t reply for a moment, looking torn between agreeing or trying to comfort him about that being a possibility. He heard in that moment the formal boy remarking “What an unusual couple. Charles? Why are you following them?”

“Mate, hey, sorry Edwin said that. Sounds like you’ve been through some stuff. We’re trying to help people where we can. Maybe if you tell us more we could help you, or your friend, Eddie, was it?” The boy called, catching up to them easily and earnestly meeting Steve’s eyes as he offered.

Robin sighed, nodding at something in Steve’s expression though he couldn’t guess what or how it’d changed with the boy offering to help them. “I believed you Eddie is alive before now so I’m sticking with that. But seeing ghosts? That’s pretty cool, right? Bet Dustin would call it metal.”

“No Robin, I don’t think so and doubt Dustin would either when they’re saying Eddie’s dead. Also they’re still here, offering to help.” Steve grumbled. He didn’t want help from people saying Eddie was dead.

“Okay, then listen, they’re willing and the first people we’ve had actually talk to us. All El gave us was 2 names and nothing else to find these people she thinks can help. Can you at least ask them about that?” She suggested gently.

“In a city like London it’s unlikely we’ll be able to assist, but I suppose we can try,” The formal boy, Edwin? Agreed with a heavy breath as if against letting his friend offer their help.

Steve glanced at him for a moment, “Thank you, except, Robs, you kept the note. I know one name began Ed but wasn’t Edward and the other might’ve been Charlie? Charlotte? Something charred but I haven’t seen the note or been told the names since we boarded the flight.”

As Robin huffed and muttered about having said them so many times while trying to find them and riffling through her jacket pockets to find the note, the casually dressed boy, Charles?, grinned, “Your flight from America? Yeah, I’d have forgotten them too. Guessing whomever you’re looking for isn’t in a phone book either.”

“She checked that as soon as she could with no luck.” Steve sighed as Robin half cheered, pulling the note out.

“Oh! Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland! That’s what El wrote.”

The names got a reaction from the pair talking to Steve and given the names he’d heard so far he could guess why. Edwin was smirking and Charles burst into laughter, “You’re kidding. That’s aces. Glad I stopped you storming off.”

“Quite so Charles. We’re the people you’re looking for apparently.” Edwin agreed, before his brow furrowed. “I would invite you to join us somewhere but Charles and I don’t currently have a residence. Perhaps we could reconvene at your hotel?”

Steve shrugged, “Guess we’ll have to. How would ghosts get a residence, anyway?” He asked offhand, before turning to Robin, “El asked us to find these ghosts. Apparently your method of randomly walking around London worked.”

“I told you it – So I flew all this way to help you find them and I can’t even see them? Why didn’t El ensure you got all the information instead of me?” Robin began to gloat before pausing in frustration.

“Haunting where they died most often, however neither of us are inclined to remain at the school we died within.” Edwin answered, gesturing to Steve for him to lead the way.

Steve nodded at the answer before replying to Robin’s question, “Probably because you were insisting on coming with me despite being very anxious over the idea of flying. El knows we share everything with each other eventually anyway. We’re going back to the hotel now, come on.”

The walk back was taken over by Robin wondering aloud about ghosts and occasionally Charles or Edwin explaining something more so Steve could share it.

/\/\

It had been a joke the last time they’d helped a ghost solve their unfinished business and been gifted something in return; a bag that Charles had been told to be careful with since it could store many things but also injure those removing items too harshly. He’d suggested trying to solve people problems for payment as their plans for their life and getting an office to do it from.

Edwin was wondering if that joke wasn’t as absurd as he’d thought now, listening to these two humans explain their friend’s situation as well as why Steve was so certain he was alive even 3 years after he was last seen in his body.

It could certainly give them a place to form a reference library for these sorts of problems.

“What about the ghosts, Robin?” Steve exclaimed. She’d been repeating the facts about ghosts that had been shared again, comparing it to Eddie but he clearly had his focus on a different detail. “I can listen and repeat what these boys are saying all you like, but why is there only Eddie even slightly ghost like in Hawkins?”

Edwin cleared his throat, “If I may, you might not have recognised ghosts in your town as such. Perhaps-” He broke off at the glare shot to him.

“You don’t know Hawkins. I can name 5 unjustified deaths without blinking and at least half I know would have unfinished business or a reason to stay. That’s ignoring the kids and that lab which killed or experimented on them until their deaths. If Eddie is a ghost, which I absolutely don’t believe, where are the rest? Why isn’t Barb still trying to reach Nance to ensure her boyfriend is good enough, or Chrissy, I don’t know, haunting Jason’s old mob? Why aren’t El’s siblings doing anything to show they’re there and mad over the guy who killed them still surviving and plotting?” The rant burst out of Steve and frankly left Edwin with more questions, enough that he stood back and started noting down what seemed to be important deaths or locations in Hawkins.

“And why is El also saying Eddie is alive.” Robin added quietly, as if coming to a realisation over Steve’s frustration.

Steve clicked at her, “Remembered that have you? El doesn’t lie.”

“Mates, I think you need to actually tell us what’s gone on in Hawkins. Just talking about Eddie clearly isn’t enough information.” Charles said, gaping slightly between the pair. “What was that about a lab killing kids?”

The story of Hawkins was disturbing, but Edwin was still dubious over the help they wanted. Moving to another country to help, even temporarily, seemed to be an extreme decision. Steve and Robin had barely finished their tale when he stood. “Charles, a word?” He gestured to the closet, deciding it was best to at least remain with the pair until their decision was made.

“Are you truly considering going to America to help these people? They’ve already got plenty of assistance from what they’ve said.”

Charles nodded, “And are getting nowhere with the issue. Sounds like they’re basically just waiting for it to kick off again instead of facing the guy causing all the deaths.” He gestured to Edwin with a grin, “And who better to help than the man who in a matter of months has gained more knowledge about magic and supernatural beings than most ghosts we’ve met? Besides, I know you’re curious. You wanna prove yourself right over Eddie as well as figure out why they haven’t got more ghosts around. Come on.”

Edwin fought the smile that wanted to break through. “No I-”

“Did you just gesture that they’ve hidden in the closet from us?” Robin’s voice came from the room outside the closet.

Steve huffed as if he’d tried to keep her quiet. “Edwin isn’t on board with coming back with us yet. Charles is convincing him.”

“In the closet? Are they-?” Her words drifted of, clearly implying something from the quiet groans Charles and Steve let out, Charles shaking his head.

“Don’t think so and definitely not currently. Best friends like us, I’d guess.” Steve replied after a thump that sounded like he’d shoved her lightly back.

Robin laughed, “Or two boys in a closet.”

“Convenient place to argue with the illusion of privacy. You think we should try that at home?”

“Nah, imagine how insufferable the kids would get if we started going into closets together all the time?”

Charles laughed, meeting Edwin’s eyes, “Guess Steve could hear us too.”

“Clearly. And You’re correct. I’m curious, but what if helping reveals us to death, or puts us at risk of whatever has prevented ghosts from forming in Hawkins?” Edwin returned to their conversation. “Or worse, since I’ve already encountered information on things that destroy ghosts entirely.”

“Wait!” Steve called, yanking the door open, “Death exists? Did I hear that right? Would you prefer we try and contact him directly?”

Edwin rolled his eyes, “Her and no, that would be the height of stupidity. Please close the door and refrain from further eavesdropping.”

Steve barely nodded as he did so, already turned to Robin. “Robs, Death is female! I wonder what she’s like?”

After a moment to hear the two friends start gossiping over death together Edwin and Charles finally continued their discussion over whether they should help, hopeful that Steve wasn’t listening still.

/\/\

“Do you think they’ll really get us a place?” Charles asked. They had decided to wait at London airport for the day or so it would take Robin and Steve to get home and were wondering over something Robin had offered. “Would be brills if they could even get it in London.”

Edwin wasn’t quite so convinced or excited by the thought. “We’ll have to wait and see, Charles. Although I would be grateful for a place to collate our research and cases.”

/\/\

“Are you the pair El said would help?” Eddie hesitated, ready to run from the two boys who’d appeared through the mirror in his trailer bathroom. There wasn’t a gate forming at least so he didn’t worry about the Upside Down being pushed to merge with Hawkins again.

The first boy to come through paused, looking him over. “Yes we are and despite El and Steve’s insistence you definitely seem to be a ghost.” He said.

“He’s Edwin. I’m Charles. Are you Eddie?” Charles greeted, having straightened up from where he’d fallen.

“Yes and no, I’m not dead. Vecna doesn’t let ghosts form. Come on, I’ll point out where my body is to you.” Eddie gestured, leading the way out. “I don’t think he can see me, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Edwin kept his voice hushed while replying, “You’re friends were beginning to think Vecna is dead.”

“Annoyingly he isn’t. I was hoping they’d believe that if it stayed quiet for long enough though. They’ve not been relaxing and have only just figured out patrols that don’t leave everyone a bit sleep deprived. I’m keeping him here for as long as I can.” Eddie explained, crouching behind some trees where they could see one of the gates El had mentioned needing to close each time they reopened.

“How?” Charles asked, seeing Eddie’s body moving to go through the gate and being pulled back somehow.

Eddie grunted, putting effort into yanking Vecna away from the gate. “Whatever Vecna did to kick me out of my body still lets me refuse to let it leave here. I go and see Steve or El if he’s distracted and I’m certain he won’t try to go through for a while.”

“It’s difficult to do.” Edwin observed. “This is a very unusual occurrence but then I still don’t understand El’s powers either.”

“Bet I could beat him though.” Charles offered. “If he’s got a body of his own around here, that is.”

Eddie snickered a little, “Yeah, please don’t kill me going after him.”

Charles nodded, “Course, Mate, would hurt someone Steve likes so much. You okay if we go back to him now though, do some research and planning to see if we can help?”

“Just keep me up to date on any plans.” Eddie waved them off, staying close to the gate just in case his body tried breaking through again.

/\/\

Steve was fuming, heartbroken, and an entire mix-up of emotions he couldn’t break down enough to understand. He was also staring at Edwin and Charles as if they were speaking Russian until Robin stepped in front of him. “Steve? Steve? Are Edwin and Charles back? What are they saying? Your reaction is scaring the kids.”

“Vecna took Eddie’s body. I’m going to kill him.” He blinked back to himself, going to grab his nail bat from the hall closet.

“No, put the nail bat down.” Dustin immediately jumped up, trying to tug the bat from his grip. “You aren’t killing anyone until Eddie has his body back, whatever that means.”

“Steve, you can’t go after him now.” Robin appeared at his side again. “You’d risk killing Eddie yourself if you did.”

Charles looked around at the various people there, focusing on Will and El as the other two who could see him. “Does this Vecna guy have a body?” He asked.

“Yes, we’ve gone against him before and he was in it then.” Steve growled out. “So let me in there to beat it to shreds. Kill the body and he’ll have to leave Eddie’s, right?”

El shook her head. “He’s possessing Eddie’s now, possibly because it’s less connected and stronger than his own without the vines.” She mused.

“It reduces your ability to find him too. I guess that’s why your early attempts to connect and fight him mentally failed, but if you faced him, went to meet him at a gate or something, could you get him out of Eddie’s body? Send him back to his own? If these two can find his own body and like blow it up at the same time, even better.” Steve suggested, looking between El and the ghosts imploringly, seemingly unconcerned that he’d gone from wanting to be the one to kill Vecna to planning for others to do the most damage in an instant.

Edwin shared a glance with Charles before nodding, “An astute plan, Steve. El, are you able to do that?”

El barely managed to agree before Mike interrupted, “Please tell me one of those ghosts had a better plan you’re agreeing to than the nonsense Steve just spewed.”

“Edwin said the plan was smart.” El simply replied.

“Steve? Smart?” Mike scoffed, “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

Watching Edwin slam one of the research books nearest Mike shut and the boy jumping away from it had Steve and a few other snickering, but soon sobering.

El waited for Edwin to finish his repetition of the praise before relaying it for everyone to hear, “Edwin says of course. Steve’s the one noticing the details that have helped form a viable plan to resolve Eddie’s situation and the threats over our town. Charles also thinks the plan is brills and is asking whether he needs to get explosives himself or we can provide some.”

“Great.” Mike groaned, but was called to start planning by Hopper and Nancy who were ready to fine tune Steve’s idea now someone had one.

/\/\

Hopper stared at Steve and Robin, bewildered and obviously questioning their sanity. “You want to buy an office, in England, for some ghosts who helped you with this? When since the plan to get rid of Vecna and save Eddie succeeded there’s been countless hauntings here?” He listed, breaking each question off sharply.

“I can help with most of those and El is working through the rest. Half of them just need telling what happened with their deaths and that the man orchestrating them all is dead himself now, definitely in hell to please them more.” Steve reasoned.

“Besides, we only asked Charles and Edwin to help us save Eddie and we did promise to get them their own place in payment.” Robin continued. “And if you don’t cosign to confirm it’s legit, Steve’ll just fake his father’s signature and make the Harrington accounts cover everything in case Edwin and Charles struggle at all.”

Steve had been ready to continue their arguments but paused at that. “Actually Hop, you’re right. We should do that as the first option. Charles has said he’ll write still anyway.”

“Brills.” Charles muttered behind them. “Please tell me your parents are rich assholes who never show up?”

“Correct in one. Let’s get you two back to England so we can set up your office.” Steve nodded, turning around. “Eddie’s coming with us and we’re going to have a few days holiday to sight see while we’re there too.”

Charles grinned and Edwin had a small smile also. “You really are being very generous to do this for us.”

“And you were very generous in agreeing to help us and everything you’ve done.” Steve mimicked his speech a little, smiling to show it was just teasing. “Seriously though, this doesn’t feel like we’re doing enough. Are you sure an office space is what you want?”

“Indeed. Along with all the games the other boys are insisting on you bringing back with you I’m sure it will be plenty enough.” Edwin confirmed. He knew the games being given to them wasn’t purely out of kindness; most of the kids had parents pushing them to clear out games rarely played with, but they seemed like a pleasant way to pass an evening at least.

[ateliersss]

Predator Masterlist

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

Mi‘ytiar

The plots of the series as a whole and the individual oneshots are already in order regarding the timeline, but I would recommend to start with the series as that's where my journey with those characters started. Every work takes place in a mostly undetermined time apart as they are interconnected with each other.

⇨ Downtime and a Bath Summary: Your mate returns from a hunt, in desperate need of a bath.

⇨ Bandaids and Kisses Summary: One part of motherhood seemed to be patching up your reckless pup after another adventure in the wild against his parents' wishes.

Blooming Family Series (Finished) ⇨ Part 1 — He Will Come Summary: You were caught three days after you and your son's arrival on earth by an organization called Project Stargazer. Now you both were treated like guinea pigs. No wonder, considering said son was a hybrid of human and Yautja. ⇨ Part 2 — He Is Here Summary: After Akail freed himself and then you from your captors, you both had only one thing on your mind — to return home where his father and your mate was waiting for you. ⇨ Part 3 — He Shan't Lose Summary: Mere two months ago, you had returned home after the incident on Earth. Now you were back, ready to indulge yourself and go on the weekly "date night" with your mate. If only your unborn pup had better timing… ⇨ Part 4 — He Shall Prevail Summary: In your past life on earth, when someone would ask you how you managed your job as a nurse with the occasional death of a mother during birth, you told them that you never took it too personal because you would never find yourself in their position. Then why were you now so adamant on giving your life for your pup? Edited: 24.08.2024 (only a few details that contradicted each other in the course of the fanfic)

⇨ Don't worry, only You and Him Summary: Waking up from the week of bed rest after giving birth, you hadn't expected how your eldest seemed to resent the newest addition to your family.

⇨ The Huntress Summary: It's the first time you and your mate go on a hunt after your pregnancy.

⇨ Oh, take me back to The Night we met Summary: 1936, eighty-eight years ago, you met him, the creature that changed your life in a way that goes beyond human imagination.

⇨ No Title Yet (in planning) Summary: Mi'ytiar's POV of Oh, take me back to The Night we met

⇨ Main Masterlist

[michaelmilligan]

The Jonmartin manifesto no one asked for but needed to get out

So, I've not been in the tma fandom for long yet, having only listened to it for the first time a few months ago. But from browsing the Jonmartin (and teaholding and jmart) tag regularly, it seems to me like most jonmartin shippers fall into one of these two categories:

They would find each other in every universe; or

It's a miracle they even got together in this universe

(Obviously, that's an oversimplification, and people who express one view in one post can easily hold a different view at another time - these are fictional characters we're talking about after all, and headcanons don't need to be consistent and can even contradict each other. This is just the general vibe I got so far.)

Anyway, I wanted to add my own two cents on the topic, because while I understand where both of these views are coming from, I think neither of them is ultimately correct.

(Putting the rest under a read more - be warned that this is NOT a spoiler-free post, so if you haven't finished listening to TMA yet and you want a spoiler-free experience, you probably shouldn't read this.)

So, before we get to my own opinion, let's first look at where the two options I mentioned above come from, shall we?

"They would find each other in every universe"

Obviously, this view is highly romantic - star-crossed lovers, finding each other again and again. It is both a good foundational basis for AUs, and a ray of hope in the face of the tragedy that is the tma finale.

Of course, concerning the finale, this is a rather different take than concerning AUs (since it would mean the very same characters finding each other again in a different world, not fundamentally different characters, shaped by said other world, also finding each other). And maybe when people express this view, they mean more the finale fix-its than AUs, though I suspect that plenty of people mean both.

It's a nice, comforting thought. And don't we all need some comfort after the finale? Yes, we certainly do. (Except for the people who read only hurt without comfort and angst, I guess. You do you, and I'm glad you're having fun, but personally I do desperately need some comfort, lmao.)

Is this view supported by canon though?

Cynical minds would say no, and personally I'm more inclined to agree with them, though as I've said, for me the truth lies outside of those two rigid stances (somewhere in between, I suppose).

I don't see much in canon which points to Jon and Martin falling in love under any circumstances/in any universe, especially considering their... let's say difficult relationships at the start of the show. But of course we must also take into account the specific circumstances in canon (more on that below) and interpretations vary, and I do very much enjoy AUs, so I'm certainly not trying to throw shade if you're on this side of the 'divide'.

Mostly, I think there CAN be other circumstances in which those two get together, outside the canon ones. (I'm writing a canon-divergent jonmartin fic myself, lol.) Let's get into that while we look at the other view, shall we.

"It's a miracle they even got together in this one"

Ah, the Martin-approved stance. One could say 'well, they literally said it in canon' and be done with it. However, that would require us to believe that the opinions of the characters are always true and correct, which. Lmao. We only have to listen to season 2 of tma to know that this is very much not the case.

And even if S5 Martin is not S2 Jon at the height of his paranoia, he's still very much a man shaped by his own life and experiences. I'm sure he would call himself a realist, but he honestly seems more like a pessimist to me. Which is understandable, given his life, and his association with the Lonely, which has often been (in my opinion accurately) compared to depression.

The thing is, Jon did treat Martin horribly in S1, and then he admittedly treated everyone horribly in S2. It was only in the course of S3 that their relationship got more, let's say, equal, with Jon no longer thinking Martin would be 'contributing nothing but delays'. (And then of course we have S4, which I LOVE even though it hurts me deeply. Then again, that's the whole show. And, obviously, S5 my beloved.)

So. Jon seemed to hate Martin in S1, while Martin was arguably already in love with the man. (Arguably. We do know that he acted catty to Basira in S2, so it's reasonable to assume that he started liking him at some point in S1, or even before the show started.) Then a lot of traumatic things happened, and they got together.

This means it must be the traumatic things that made them compatible, right? Just like Martin says in S5?

Well, one could see it that way. Jon certainly changed over the seasons, coming off his high horse and such. (In S5, he arguably gets back on it quite a bit, but then he IS the Eye's specialest little princess in a world that's literally ruled by it. And also he is slowly losing his grip on his own humanity. But I digress.)

And I do think that the trauma channeled a lot of those changes - the first time we see Jon being actually emotionally open (something he still struggles with over all seasons, because people don't just change fundamentally that quickly) is during Prentiss' attack on the Institute. They're in a situation where they might reasonably die (they even expect it, because they don't know that Elias is just rubbing his greedy little paws as he waits for things to get worse before he saves them with the gas).

I do think that moment could have been a big turning point for Jon and Martin, if it hadn't been immediately followed with the discovery of Gertrude's body, and Jon's subsequent descent into paranoia. Jon opened up, and also saw that Martin was rather competent during the attack, which could have led to them becoming closer, respectively having at least something like a normal work relationship.

But then Jon got paranoid and interpreted everything he saw negatively, including Martin's competence, which was twisted in his mind to 'What if he's just been pretending to be incompetent and is actually an evil agent out to kill the archivist'.

(Big sigh.)

Anyway, before I lose myself in the red string as well: Yes, Jon seems to 'mellow' over the seasons, especially with regard to Martin, at the same time that he's going through terribly traumatic events.

But does that mean that it's actually the trauma that's changing him and his relationships? Partly, certainly, but I would argue that trauma doesn't make you nicer or kinder. It might make you realise some things, but that doesn't mean that you can't realise those things in other ways.

And does it means that they couldn't have come together if they had met under different circumstances? Also not necessarily! I would even argue that the specific circumstances they met under were detrimental to Jon's first impression of Martin. And yes, this goes beyond the dog story.

So let's try and dissect their relationship from the start.

A theory of... something like nuance, or whatever

The starting situation

(Yes, I did have to use a Supernatural gif, thank you for asking. No, I will not apologise. <3)

Alright. So let's start with what we actually know about Jon and Martin's first meeting. Obviously, there's the dog story, though as far as I know that's not 'canon' because it wasn't actually in the podcast. I still like it, and think it adds another reason to Jon's behaviour, though I don't necessarily think it's necessary, because Jon already had lots of other reasons to tell himself that Martin wasn't worth his time.

1.1. Jon has issues. More at 11.

First of all, we learn throughout the podcast that Jon doesn't actually have any qualifications to lead an archive. He's probably 29 when the show starts (in 2016, going by the fandom wiki stating that he was born in 1987, which is reasonable given everything we learn about his age).

So, he's 29 and suddenly appointed, after four years of working in one department, to become the head of a completely different department. He does not have a degree that would give him credentials for leading an archive, nor are we told that he has ever even worked in an archive. For all we know, and that he knows, he is woefully underqualified. (This is also, I think, highlighted in S2 when Jon threatens to resign, only to then be baffled by Elias saying that he would be difficult to replace. Elias means something completely different than his skill set as an archivist with a lower case 'a', presumably, but then Jon doesn't know that.)

This means that Jon is in a highly stressful position, because he's trying to do a job he doesn't actually know how to do, while also trying not to let on that he doesn't know how to do it!

It doesn't help that Jon is also terribly scared of what all might be lurking in the shadows (or even in the light), as he himself admits during the Prentiss attack. He is extremely high-strung from day one, basically a wet chihuahua shaking in a slight breeze, while trying to seem like a strong bulldog.

We also know that Jon asked for two people to be his assistants: Tim and Sasha. They both worked in research, and Sasha also briefly worked in artefact storage, making them both qualified to help Jon with following up on statements. But I think more than their qualifications, Jon probably requested them because he knew and got along with them.

Imagine: Your boss tells you that he's promoting you into a position you're not qualified for and which you have no real clue how to do. Wouldn't you rather have people around you who you're already friendly with, and who are likely to cut you some slack if you're not perfect on day one? I know I would!

1.2. Elias is a little shit and I want to kill him with hammers (affectionately)

And then Elias transfers Martin.

I'm going off the dog story again, because again, I like it, and I think it does fit neatly into canon. If this story is to be believed, Elias neither asked nor did he tell Jon that he was giving him another assistant. He apparently simply told Martin 'you work at the archives now, congratulations' and then went back to his office to smile smugly to himself.

This is a VERY bad start for a working relationship, because not only does Martin come in unannounced, this also comes off as Elias not respecting Jon, or potentially even sending someone to report back to Elias (because Martin is the only one who doesn't have an established rapport with Jon).

Jon never verbalises this suspicion, so maybe this is too much interpretation on my part, but in any case it's cause for a lot of resentment on Jon's part, and since he can't exactly let it out on Elias (who is rarely there, anyway), he simply lets it out on Martin.

He finds reasons to do so, of course, insulting his work and all that. It's probably easy, especially in the beginning, because not unlike Jon, Martin doesn't have any qualifications to work in an archive! He worked at the library before, and we know that his degree is made up (which we can only assume Elias knows, considering he can know almost anything).

(I actually find the question on why Elias transferred Martin in the first place extremely interesting, and might get into that in another post. But this one is already too long, lmao.)

1.3. Martin is too nice, aka Jon has even more issues

This is mostly my personal headcanon, though I do feel it fits Jon's character - which is that he doesn't know how to deal with nice people.

Not kind people. Not friendly people. But nice people.

People who do things seemingly out of the mere goodness of their heart. Like bringing their mean boss tea when he never asked them to do that. Like being friendly even in the face of insults. Someone who constantly takes himself back in favour of other people and their opinions.

People like Martin is appearing to be. Appearing, because Martin isn't actually like that. He does have his opinions, and he could probably grumble up a storm in S1 about Jon, but Jon is his BOSS, and so he plays.

Martin also IS genuinely a nice person most of the time (when he's not on a revenge rampage, making his boyfriend murder people). He doesn't have to do nice things for Jon like bring him tea in S2. But he does. Because that's Martin's way of trying to reach out, to show other people that he means no harm (and that he can be useful).

(I also think that Jon's snappish behaviour, where Martin never quite knows what will set the man off, might remind him off his mum, but again I digress. :))

But I think Jon doesn't know how to deal with that, because even when he's not in the height of paranoia, he still suspects that people who are THAT nice (especially when they have no reason to be nice because he's being an arsehole to them) have a secret agenda. This is playing into what I said under 2 (the part that might be too much interpretation on my side lol), because if Jon suspects that Martin is reporting back to Elias, or is at least someone who would not be friendly if he found out that Jon doesn't know what he's doing, then he can't allow himself to relax around him, and he certainly can't allow himself to be lulled into false security (as Jon would think) around him.

Tl;dr on this point: I think Jon is wary of Martin's niceness because he thinks he might be fishing for gossip/anything he can use against Jon. And even if he isn't, Jon thinks he would be likely to use anything he learns against Jon, because they weren't friends to begin with, and Jon's behaviour has made them anything but that.

(We have to remember that this is the guy who says in S2 that he knows what it's like to 'lack the respect of one's peers', aka the kid who got bullied by at least one older kid, and likely had no or very few friends - plus he believes in the supernatural, which doesn't exactly lend itself well to getting academic respect.)

1.4. They were fucked from the start, your honour

Basically what the meme says, but yeah. The they were put in practically guaranteed that Jon would be wary of Martin, and that Martin would be trying extra hard to make friends with him, which in turn would make Jon even more wary/hostile.

And Elias made it worse, either knowingly or by negligence (not telling Jon about transferring Martin).

If we add the whole dog story to it... they were fucked. I do actually wonder if, assuming we take the dog story as canon, Elias actually somehow managed to set that up. Or whether he was at least cackling (sorry, smiling ever so silently, but smugly) in his office as it happened, or whenever he ended up knowing that it happened.

2. Yes, we've had one starting point, but what about second starting point?

As we have established above, the starting situation for Jon and Martin was... not ideal. So, would they have gotten together easily given a different starting point, like in a cute coffee shop AU?

Eh.

It's true that the specific situation they were in made it a lot harder for them to actually communicate and see each other as they are than it had to be. That doesn't mean that a different situation would have made it easy, though.

Their personalities still make it hard, though, as even without the added stress of a new job, Jon is still a little chihuahua shaking in the corner, who tries to make up for it by barking at everyone, and Martin is still the guy trying to approach him with treats and getting his hand bitten.

There are certainly specific situation that could make it easier, especially if Jon isn't scared as hell, and has maybe already learned that not everyone who does something nice for him wants to just pull on his strings. (Yes, I do think that the thing that makes Martin, according to Annabelle, suited for the Web, is the thing that put Jon on edge at the beginning. I don't know if this was intended at all, but it makes me cackle.)

The beauty of fanfic is that we can do whatever the hell we want. But I think the most fun thing an AU author can do is think 'What would have to happen, in this specific scenario, for these two to get over themselves and get together?'

Excursion: Martin, my beloved depressed blorbo who I am certainly not projecting on, haha

Because it IS both of them who need to get over themselves. Of course Jon's issues are the most obvious, and I've certainly expanded on them enough. But Martin also has a problem, and it's that he's constantly hiding his true feelings and opinions, especially anger and fear.

That makes sense, perhaps, in a workplace, though considering he's dealing with a walking, talking worm hive and a stalker boss... Let's just say it probably would have helped Tim, too, if Martin hadn't been so desperate to make everyone be friends again.

Because Martin is always TRYING to make everything better for everyone, but he's actually not helping anyone. Being nice to Jon and bringing him tea doesn't help battle his paranoia. And trying to tell Tim not to be so angry at Jon, and can't they all be friends, doesn't actually help Tim with his anger.

All Martin is essentially doing is making himself small and saying 'let's get along, pretty please' every now and then. I don't know if it would have helped if he had expressed his own fears and anger, and maybe Jon would have misconstrued that as well, too deep in his paranoia already. But at least Tim might have realised that he was not alone in all this. (His biggest problem, as he says in S2, is that he feels that no one has his back, which I think at least partly results from no one expressing the same anger, aka no one validating his feelings.)

Anyway! (Jon voice) Excursion ends.

3. (To the melody of 'What shall we do with the drunken sailor') What shall we do with these total idiots?

So, how ARE these two going to get together, if they're so woefully unequipped to deal with each other?

Well, first we need to give Martin a good helping of self-confidence. Then we need to kind of give Jon the same, since his problem ALSO is that he's unsure of himself, he just tries to make other people small to cover it up, instead of making himself small. (And isn't that a funny thing to do for someone who we know was bullied. To become a bully himself. Oh, the snake, biting its own tail...)

The easy answer is, of course: You can come up with your own version, get creative. <3

The more complex answer is: A lot of stuff, probably. Jon and Martin will certainly need time to get to know each other, and of course it depends on what situation you put them in to start. But there will be misunderstandings, and there will be hurt feelings, and I am going to soak it up all like a particularly slowburn-greedy sponge.

I feel like there are probably five million ways to get them together, and some might be cute and fluffy (if they go to therapy first, I guess, lol) and many will be full of tears. <3 (Jon voice) And I want to see them all on my desk by Friday! So get to it!

In all seriousness though, yeah, I think there's not one right way for them to get together (though canon did it well imo). But it's also a little more complex than we might give it credit to (very much including me).

4. So what now?

I don't know. I'm not your dad. Write a fic. Draw a picture. Put down your own thoughts on the matter. Or take a shower and clean up your room, young Padawan!

(Though actually, if you've read this post from start to finish in one session, what you should probably do is get up and stretch and get some water.)

And above all! And this is imperative.

Have a good day. <3

[radiomonkeys2]

Human vs Saiyajin: Horatio vs Yulaan, courtesy of Salvamakoto

Taken directly from Hokuto no Ken, during Kenshiro's fistfight with Raoh.

Something of a follow-up to 

1965 Bering Sea, near Mekoryuk, Alaska

Sol Yulaan and a fellow sailor named Billy Davis have a nice, calm discussion about who was Western history's greatest war hero

Horatio in the back there doesn't think Yulaan is being considerate of Billy's opinion that Davy Crockett is better than Leonidas and Achilles. 

And don't worry, folks— Billy survives and the two settle their differences over alcohol (which does little for a Yaban but it'd be rude to not celebrate a good fight discussion).

Admittedly, Billy might've initially disregarded Yulaan for being a dame, and she may have had to politely remind him she's a bolloi, but it all worked out

On that trip through the northwest seas, Horatio is one of those men who gets tickled by the prospect of fighting Yulaan. But you see, especially in the 1960s, a male fighting a female in direct physical combat is utterly verboten— at least in public. Even with the arrival of Yabans on Earth, the idea of men fighting bollois just is not palatable despite the clear differences bollois present vs human women. And bollois, at least those well integrated into Earth culture, know better than to publicly challenge men to fights for a similar reason: the whole "men mustn't fight ladies" isn't just due to pure chivalry but also due to the potential humiliation and shame if a man were to lose. It's sort of a double standard: men can't let women win honestly because to be a man bested by a woman is to be utterly emasculated and seen as pathetic and weak, but a man can't let a woman lose because how dare a man strike a lady in battle! So best to just not let the two fight at all to avoid that contradiction— better for a man and a lady to do the other f-word with each other. And for bollois, who nevertheless still carry the form and tag of ladies for two, ahem, very obvious reasons, this can get frustrating seeing as their blood screams for battle and challenge. Hence why they do often fight in private instead, as for men interested, the sheer strength and ability of bollois is second to none, and said private battles don't carry the potential for social stigma or humiliation. These will likely never be televised until some future more liberal age comes to pass, and most people know these go down behind the walls of society, but at least at this point in time, few make a big deal out of it. It's a similar phenomenon to courtesans and prostitution when you think about, except for the obvious differences.

This is what gets Horatio to try this chances against Yulaan, though as just himself, he wouldn't stand much of a chance, so Yulaan gathers a chi multiplier for him to exploit: one which boosts his human abilities enough to actually give her a secular challenge. By this point in time, the other men of the King Salmon know what Yulaan's about, so this is an impromptu shadow-duel. 

[shannonsketches]

Can I just say I love how you can be somewhat critical about certain things about totk without completely and unnecessarily trashing it and even adding humor. I wish more people were like that.

Aw, thank you! I'm just trying to make sure folks feel safe to enjoy things here (as long as, yknow, the respect goes both ways).

I definitely used to be someone who would trash stuff unnecessarily, and I'll always credit a mutual (although I did forget their handle,,,I'm so sorry) I had at the time for just letting me go on a long rant about why something bothered me and went, "That sounds really personal, but that got nothing to do with this." And all at once I realized I'd been projecting my needs/wants/expectations onto other peoples work (commercial or otherwise), and holding strangers responsible for serving me, specifically! Which is an absurd thing to expect from anyone!!

And sometimes I still forget the world doesn't revolve around me, glorious me, and I have to go back and apologize and do my mental health homework to figure out why I reacted a certain way, and why I took something so personally. But it's been really helpful to try and do the homework first, or type that whole salty take up and delete it or draft and review it again in the morning, before you make a stranger (or a friend!) feel bad or unsafe with you for the crime of enjoying something you didn't (which I have done, many times, and feel very bad about).

Plus, I've learned that if you're someone who is always analyzing and critiquing things, those moments can be really good practice for (respectfully! privately! in your own space! not on that stranger's post! not in that poor dev's DMs!) considering what you might have done differently, assuming you had the same parameters and resources available. I find this is especially good practice if you plan on entering a creative field! I promise you get a lot more sympathetic with how things turn out when you force yourself to dream within a budget and a deadline.

(also being nice to professionals is good practice! Some of them are jerks, true, but 99% of devs artists designers directors etc are just doing their best under a ton of stress and pressure to make everyone happy, and they're usually really proud of what they're able to accomplish, and they are absolutely not getting paid enough to deal with the comment section)

Once you let go of that need to be Correct and have control over stuff that isn't about you, you end up having a lot more fun and a lot less limitations for playing in the sandbox, and with other creatives! Plus you learn about yourself, and what your priorities and tastes are. You become a better story teller and collaborator when you can not only find but actively look for the good in things you may have completely dismissed as a kneejerk reaction to not liking something about it.

And again, I'm definitely still an ass, a lot more often than I'd like to be. I still struggle with that need to be Correct and to have complete control over my sandbox. I still get defensive and have to navigate rejection sensitivity when someone's idea contradicts mine. I definitely understand the reactivity when something means a lot to us, and it takes practice to share when you're used to being protective! But it's so, so worth it.

You meet such amazing people and find such wonderful, supportive communities when you embrace two cake theory. I highly recommend making an effort to expand your perspective and be a part of that support.

Supportive Community Pro-Tips from a Fandom Old Guy:

You don't have to adopt a theory to enjoy or appreciate it!

If someone's takes upset you, just block them. It's okay.

Don't critique someone's work unless they ask for critique

Don't RB someone's work with negative/contradictory comments, just make your own post

DO freak out in the tags/comments/inbox if you like something

Obviously don't wish harm over ships/headcanons/etc, just block!

Remember someone else's work is not about you

Remember someone else's work is Not About You

Are they experiencing a thing? Are they sharing their experience with you? That's a gift! Treat it like one!

Elitism is a mind killer. Newer ≠ Lesser, Older ≠ Greater. We all have stuff to offer and we all have stuff to learn.

and if I may impart the most important thing I've ever learned in fandom:

BE NICE TO EACH OTHER, WE'RE ALL JUST MAKING STUFF UP!

Thank you for the lovely message and for letting me ramble I'm!! Sorry this got so long and preachy, haha

[shandoratheexplorer]

WIP whenever

I'll just grab the tag from @dramatiquechipmunk

I'm currently working on one of THE most important chapters in my longfic... Cazador's ball set up chapter... my anxiety is as palpable as Astarion's when thinking about facing this monumental task to making this absolutely fucking perfect because my favorite vampire deserves nothing less than the perfect conclusion to his personal story arc... that being said, here's a sneak peak.

Beneath Tav's touch, Astarion is a coil of tension, wound so tight it's as if he's already standing in Cazador's halls, blade in hand, waiting for the moment to strike. His shoulders are squared, poised for battle, though his body remains still. A contradiction of instincts—fight or freeze, vengeance or fear. The silence between them grows thick, pressing, heavy with the ghosts of the past—interrupted only by the quiet sound of Tav's hands massaging the oil into Astarion's skin and the gentle rustle of fabric as the wind stirs the drapes through the open balcony doors. The moonlight sometimes slipping through alongside the cool night air. "You want to talk about it?", Octavian opens up the conversation, his fingers automatically finding a few knots of tension in Astarion's back once he's done with the scars. He's not a healer but a warrior, but Astarion has massaged his own back often enough for him to catch on which movements work and which don't. There is another moment of silence, lighter now as Astarion leans into his touch. "Can we maybe... go over the plan once more?", he gently requests, turning his head and looking at Tav over his shoulder. His crimson eyes are laced with uncertainty, the anxiety about facing his former master more than evident in his entire posture and his voice. Tav smiles, leaning forward and pushing a gentle kiss to Astarion's cheekbone. "Of course, Starlight", he says before turning his attention back to the tension in his lover's shoulders. "We'll head there as guests, mingle and try to figure out when and where everything is supposed to go down", he starts relegating their plans once more, "You'll stick close to me, just to be safe while the druids try to find the path below where the ritual is supposed to take place. While they do that, the rest of us will try to keep Cazador distracted and engaged at his party." "Things could go south really fast though", Astarion whispers, his voice quiet but determined, "Cazador would sometimes host balls just to lure in some of the nobles standing in his way. He'd try to put them in their place, but now, with the ritual promising him such vast power, he could throw caution to the wind and actually murder the people he deems a hindrance to his plans." Octavian's hands briefly stop in their ministrations, a frown knitting his brows together. "So you think this ball is just a farce to lure in people standing in his way so he can murder them?" "He always was an arrogant bastard", Astarion growls, his voice low, edged with barely restrained fury. His shoulders square, tension winding through him like a bowstring drawn tight, "He thinks nothing will thwart his ascension. That nothing and no one can thwart his plans at this point", he sighs out softly, his shoulders slumping for a moment, "So yes...", he quietly adds, "I think he'd feel secure enough in his victory to get rid of any future obstacles in his plans to take over the city. Hells, he might've even struck a deal with Gortash so those two monsters don't stand in each other's way for now", a bitter chuckle leaves his throat as he leans back more into Tav's hands, trying to ground himself, "Until of course they'd tear each other apart in their ploy for world domination." "We will thwart his plans thoroughly", Octavian promises, going back to gently work on another knot in Astarion's back, "First him, then Orin, then Gortash... and I'll make sure to fit Raphael in there too. After Cazador he's next on my list to kill but getting into his House of Hope might be harder than expected."

Astarion stills, turning his head back again and staring at Tav, his eyes widened in shock. "You... Raphael...? But I thought we were just going to sneak into his house when he's not home and steal the hammer for Lae'zel..." "I did say I'd kill him", Tav shrugs, keeping his focus on Astarion's back, "I meant that. He relished in your pain and suffering. That alone is reason enough for me to smite him." At this, Astarion pulls away, turning around and facing Octavian fully. Tav's hands linger on his skin briefly before he lifts his head to meet the crimson eyes he loves so much. "Octavian... you can't be serious", the vampire insists, his gaze shifting between disbelief and reprimand, "What's one tiny power play to humiliate me...", he sighs softly, closing his eyes for a moment while collecting his thoughts, "We really have enough enemies already." "I highly doubt he'll leave us alone once we steal the hammer anyway", Tav retorts, his hands shifting to gently hold onto Astarion's waist, warmth seeping from his body into Astarion's cooler one. "But I will have him know... as I smite him", his voice dips into a growl, "That the main reason I kill him is because of what he did to you." "Oh, Angel..." Astarion's smile is soft, almost fragile, like something delicate kept under glass. He cups Tav's face, drawing him into a slow, lingering kiss—one that speaks more than words ever could. A moment later, he pulls back just enough to whisper, "Part of me still thinks I'm not worth it." Tav opens his mouth—to protest, to argue, to insist—but Astarion silences him with a single finger pressed to his kiss-swollen lips, his touch feather-light. "I know what you'll say," he murmurs, voice quiet, steady. "And I want to believe it. I really do. And I think one day I will... because of you", he whispers, shuffling closer until he can wrap his legs around Tav's hips and his arms around his neck, "The way you believe in me, the way you believe that I'm worth the hassle... It'll slowly make me believe it all myself. I just know it", he smiles, nuzzling his face into Tav's neck, "I'm not quite there yet. But I will be. Thanks to you."

no pressure tag for @nw39 have fun!

[kyogre-blue]

Hey so, I wanted to let your know that I really love your Naruto: Dashing Rescue fic. It's one of my all times fave time travelling fic. I still have the tumblr tag followed lol it's a lil reminder to self to reread whenever I come across it in the 'followed tag' section

I don't ever if you ever confirmed that it's abandoned work or not, I was wondering if you had anything to share about naruto rescue? Maybe your thoughts while writing it or scraps. Maybe not, it's been years also

Anyways, the main purpose was that I wanted to let you know that I really love your writing and a lot of your old works (oh khr too! but esp Dashing Rescue). You were an author that made me smile whenever I see your name as a teen learning about fandoms and searching out fics. I really enjoyed reading a lot of your works!

(Dumb me refresh the page before sending so I had to retype that twice and ahh I realised this got long. My bad)

Wow, that's really nice to hear. I'm glad that you enjoyed those fics! Looking at the dates, it's been almost 10 years since I posted that particular one... hard to believe.

Time travel has always been one of my most favorite fic tropes, and Naruto was really great for those because we had so many time periods, each with their own cast. The possibilities were endless.

For Dashing Rescue, I can see I posted three parts. I dug up my old doc, but there isn't much in it past those. I think I considered part 3 a good stopping point, though it looks like I wrote about a page of part 4 and outlined a few general ideas after that. I'll add that under the cut, in case you're curious.

Aside from that, the only thing I recall is that was using the movies for material and visual inspiration, but that part was probably obvious.

Anyway, thank you again for this really sweet ask. I really appreciate it ^o^

Title: Dashing Rescue

Part IV: Sand and Black Iron

Summary: AU, time travel. Finding himself in the past, Naruto has so far managed to hold back the tide of the Third Shinobi World War. That proves increasingly difficult as the Sandaime Kazekage goes missing. 

~.~.~

“Thanks for agreeing to see us, Jiji,” Kushina said, bowing deeply in complete contradiction to her impolite way of addressing the Hokage — she had picked it up from Naruto. Next to her, Minato did the same. Both of them spared a glance at Sakumo, who was also waiting in the Hokage’s office and greeted them with a friendly nod. 

“This is about Naruto, isn’t it?” Sarutobi guessed, setting aside his brush to give them both his full attention.

It had been two years since Naruto became an official member of the Uzumaki clan, and thus Konoha. That time had been plenty for the Sandaime to start feeling like he was going grey under his hat. 

Especially after Naruto took off for Suna a few months ago and refused to come back, despite the many diplomatically worded but rather displeased messages Sarutobi received from Suna. He just hoped that whatever this was didn’t turn out to be an international incident. 

“Yeah,” Kushina said bluntly. “He, uh, sent me a message.” 

Or rather, he and Kushina had set about abusing the fact that they held two halves of a single bijuu, which could communicate with each other regardless of distance or circumstances. Kurama had been nothing resembling pleased at being used as an elaborate communication system, but agreed to relay urgent messages in exchange for Kushina changing the form of confinement she used on her half. She still had no idea how Naruto managed to sweet-talk the bijuu into it from his side. 

“The Kazekage’s disappeared,” Kushina relayed, “but Naruto thinks he has a lead, and he wants help tracking the person responsible.” He had been increasingly evasive about what exactly he knew or at least suspected, and why, but Kushina didn’t mention that. Naruto got like that sometimes. 

Still not used to these sorts of things, especially stated so baldly out of nowhere — the Kazekage, really? — Sakumo choked a little, but quickly swallowed his surprise. The Sandaime simply closed his eyes and sighed. International incident didn’t begin to cover it. 

“With the Kazekage has gone missing, it’s naturally a very urgent request,” Minato added. “I might be able to expedite the journey there, if I can be assigned to the team.” 

Kushina nodded sharply. “And I can file the mission request for him,” she offered. 

“There is no need for that,” Sarutobi said, forcing down the urge to massage the bridge of his nose. “I will offer our services to Suna as a peace gesture.” 

“Who will you send?” Sakumo asked, as he finally processed what he had heard. 

“Sakumo-sempai, perhaps you could…?” Minato suggested. After all, there was no doubt about who possessed the best tracking skills in the village.

Sakumo shook his head. “That would be a terrible idea. They hate me there,” he summed up. “I was on the Suna front during the Second War, and…” 

There was no need to continue. That was where Sakumo gained his fame — and notoriety, upon a path of corpses. He didn’t regret what he had done for Konoha’s sake, but war bred hatred in a vicious cycle. Back then, he had been the same, hating his enemies for what had been done to his comrades and paying back with the same in turn. 

“Sending me would be more like a declaration of war than a peace gesture,” Sakumo concluded.

“It would not send the correct message, and would be a complication in itself,” Sarutobi agreed. “Unfortunately, most of the others who would be my second choice are out of the village and won’t be able to return quickly enough. Do you have a recommendation, Sakumo?” 

Frowning, the man looked out the window across the village. There was more at stake than first appeared — a situation like this, involving a Kage, no less, could easily deteriorate quickly and violently. So far, they had just barely managed to avoid the outbreak of another war, but the balance was delicate at best. If Suna faltered, it wouldn’t take Iwa long to strike. And then...

On the other hand, this was Konoha’s chance to build a strong alliance with Suna. It would put the Suna council, and possibly even their Kage, in Konoha’s debt. They would be able to present a united front against Iwa, and further strengthen their position with Kumo as well. 

A chance to bury the ills of the previous war…

“Kakashi,” Sakumo said, startling the others. “I recommend Kakashi.” 

“Sakumo, are you sure?” Sarutobi asked, his brow furrowing as he sat forward and studied his old comrade. 

“I’m sure. Kakashi has been a chuunin for four years now. He lacks experience, but his skills are top notch. His nose rivals mine, he’s observant and analytical, and he can call on one of our summons to assist him,” Sakumo explained.

The pride was clear in his voice. Minato, as Kakashi’s jounin teacher, nodded in agreement, though he also still appeared surprised by the choice. 

“And… This is our chance to bury the grudges of the past. We have to take the first step. What better way to prove that we trust Suna and are serious about this alliance?” Sakumo smiled. “And I trust Minato and Naruto to keep him safe, should something go wrong.” 

“...I won’t let anything happen to him,” Minato promised, recovering first. 

Sarutobi took several moments longer to consider the suggestion. Finally, he nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Then I will dispatch Minato and Kakashi to Suna in all haste.” 

“What? I want to go too! We’ll be a four-man team then!” Kushina protested. 

While Sarutobi tried to think of some subtle way to tell her that the Kyuubi jinchuuriki wasn’t going to be allowed off into a foreign village, which could very well turn unstable at any moment, all without letting Sakumo know the situation, Minato quickly spoke up, “I don’t think I could take you that far,” he said apologetically. “Kakashi and myself will already be difficult…” 

Kushina eyed him dubiously. Even though she was one of the few who understood the theoretical underpinnings of Hiraishin, she didn’t have the experience to judge how much and how far Minato could teleport. 

Theoretically, Hiraishin’s chakra cost depended on the size and weight of what he was teleporting, though there were some specific caveats regarding distance and the placement of the seals — it all depended on how you went about it.

Kushina was right to distrust him. Minato might have still been able to manage another person, but at least this way there was a legitimate reason for her to stay in Konoha. 

But she didn’t call him out on it. “He better come home after this,” she said instead. “It’s been months.” 

Minato nodded sharply. “I’ll bring him back once we’re done.” Even if it meant a quick ambush. 

“I’ll let Naruto know you’re coming,” Kushina said, and both the young jounin took their leave. 

Left alone with Sakumo, Sarutobi shot the other man a considering look. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “I have no doubt Minato and Naruto will protect him to the best of their ability,” and that ability was really quite impressive, “but you don’t have to risk Kakashi on this. We can send someone else.” 

aaaaaa

///////The Third World War was put off, but relations are rough, especially when the Kazekage suddenly goes missing. (Minato is eighteen, Kakashi is ten, and Naruto is twenty one.) 

Naruto knows that the true cause is Sasori. He talks to Chiyo and takes off, with Minato and Kakashi following. Chiyo suggested that Sasori would have gone to the old Rouran ruins.

Naruto asks Sakumo to make Konoha into a village that never abandons even one of its people.

—————

Timeline

Naruto arrives 21 yrs pre-series, 25 yrs pre-Shippuden, 10 yrs before he was born.

Part I, Kumo's kidnapping attempt Minato, Kushina — 13 Kakashi — 5 Naruto — 16

(Part II — 3 years in between)

Part III, Sakumo's mission Minato, Kushina — 16 Kakashi — 8 Naruto — 19

Part IV, Kazekage abducted Minato, Kushina — 18 Kakashi — 10 Naruto — 21 Sasori — 15

Kannabi Bridge, old timeline Minato, Kushina — 20 Kakashi — 12

Kyuubi attack, old timeline Minato, Kushina — 22 Kakashi — 14

—————

Title: Dashing Rescue

Part IV: Bare Your White Fangs

Summary: AU, time travel. 

The Third War almost breaks out when people with bloodlines start to go missing, 

Pakura from Suna, Gari from Iwa, Toroi from Kumo, and Mei from Kiri.

Obito gets kidnapped by Hiruko, Orochimaru's childhood friend and assistant. 

Orochimaru is disgraced for his support and participation in the research.

—————

Title: Dashing Rescue

Part V: Rose-tinted Dawn

Summary: AU, time travel. 

Jiraiya gets word of his old students being in trouble and asks Naruto to look into it. It's Madara confrontation time. 

Minato and Kushina get trapped in a genjutsu world where Naruto is their son, and blond. It's really weird for them.

—————

Because the third war never happens, Minato is not nearly as famous. Orochimaru is not a Yondaime candidate either. Instead, Sakumo takes it.

—————

[theswedishpajas]

ok ill bite. pls explain the bg3/hatoful boyfriend/osomatsu connection i cant seem to see it

*Cracks my knuckles.* SLIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD IN VARYING DEGREES OF ALL RELATED MEDIA (Just in case)

Alright, so. We have Yuuya and Sakuya in the game, right? Yuuya is a very flirty guy who seemingly walks up to people and just flirts with them as his primary way to communicate. He especially uses pet names and phrases meant to come across as alluring and generally sees himself as rather masculine.

He's very kind generally, but rather dramatic in his phrasings when casual. He cares a lot about his younger brother (Sakuya) despite the latter being an absolute asshole to him and very openly looking down on him and disowning him as having any sort of relation to each other. He can take responsibility and be serious and smart despite his casual manners. He comes across as a bit self-sacrificial for the sake of what matters to him (take it with a grain of salt, I'm unsure if that was just me projecting while playing or not). This is VERY similar to the general idea I personally have of Karamatsu (I might be a bit out of the loop these days, pardon me if things have changed the past few years to make this untrue.) I also have to mention the depiction of them both with roses, just as a sidenote. Now Sakuya, as previously mentioned, isn't very nice to his brother... But this is true with most others he interacts with too. He has an elitist idea of the world and is very firm in those beliefs despite having personal dreams that contradict what he's been raised to believe.

He's racist and rude and he holds himself in high regard due to his lineage and is generally a pompous asshole. However, he admits to being jealous of how simple your life and dreams are when you romance him and get one of his endings. He envies the ability to just do whatever you want without all these expectations he has grown up with, and in the true ending you see him relying on your simple life, if a bit begrudgingly, in a way that I can't imagine he's relied on anybirdie before. This to me feels extremely similar to the way Astarion acts if you romance him, especially as a spawn (I don't have much on-hand experience with the ascended experience as it upsets me too much to experience like that.)

Now, it's important to note that there are likely many other characters that overlap with the lads in different ways, but Kara and Astarion are two that I've very specifically hyperfixated on in detail, and while I only yesterday started experiencing the TRUE Hatoful Boyfriend experience, I feel like I've at least gotten a good enough grasp on Yuuya and Sakuya in the very general ways they interact with the world to make the joke art that prompted this ask, and I hope this explains my vision well now that I'm not just half-awake and just rambling in my tags aksjdgfhadsfdgfhghsddff Thank you so much for the ask, I'm curious if you or anybody else reading this has any extra notes to give in response, I'm always happy to hear y'all's thoughts!! :o) Edit: Link to the Post this is derived from (Yes, it leads to the actual blog and not just the shitty app version the homepage has these days, I swear I'm only a little spiteful)

[amtrak12]

Hi, amtrak12! I'm your Bering & Wells gifter this year, and I'd be happy to provide you with a story of a sort that might make your heart sing. I write AU and canon-compliant stuff, though I do tend to avoid full-on tragedy and anything truly explicit--apologies for that, if it's too limiting, but I bet you'd find any attempts I'd make at those to resemble lumps of coal rather than true gifts. In any case, I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

OMG I totally feel you on the explicit smut. I, too, should not be trusted to write it! LOL And I think the Bering and Wells fandom gave ourselves enough tragic fics during our great Angst War of 2013 😜 So those restrictions are totally fine with me!

Oh, I'm so excited for this! Let's see...

My general likes:

The S3 yearning during Helena's pokeball era XD I will read anything where Myka sneaks Helena's hologram out late at night to talk to her.

Helena mentoring kids. I hate S4 and I hate Instinct, but I do agree with its premise that Helena is fantastic with kids and would love to play a significant role in a child's life again.

Warehouse artifact shenanigans, especially during inventory. Always a classic.

Dislikes:

Character bashing (though feel free to criticize Myka's dad more than the show did)

Season 4 -- everything except Steve's resurrection is just a big no from me. Though if you want to use Abigail in the fic, you can. I did like her.

Season 5 -- I didn't even bother watching this one. I noped out right before the S4 finale and I don't regret that decision at all.

I am more than happy with an AU future where the warehouse and everyone are magically alive (and Leena never died). I don't even need an explanation for it. 💜 Canon S1-3 settings or even pre-series settings are also good with me.

If you'd like some specific prompts to get you started....

Canon Setting Prompts:

Helena has to work with Pete to help Myka -- could be something as big as Myka being in danger. Could be something as simple and domestic as picking out a birthday gift. Myka has two important people in her life and I, at least, am incapable of thinking about her and Helena without also inevitably thinking about Myka's relationship with Pete. (As completely platonic BROTP, of course. No Myka/Pete romance, either past or present :S But that's probably assumed in a B&W gift exchange.)

Helena's past work with WH12 shows up in small ways -- she recognizes an artifact during inventory, she wrote one of the shelving tags, or they find a report she filled out over a hundred years ago when they're refiling in the archives. Could be angsty because it's S3 and Myka misses her. Could be comforting because Helena's back and every reminder helps her feel like she's home. Could be any tone in between.

Myka having to adjust to having Helena living at the B&B, either in S2 when they're still getting to know each other or in a happy, post-S3 world where Helena's working with them again. Or maybe Myka notes that it isn't an adjustment for her at all because it feels so natural to have Helena living with them. Just domestic introspection outside of the chaos of the job.

AU Setting Prompts:

I'm a huge sucker for soulmate AUs. The tattoo style markings are my favorite premise, but if you have another favorite soulmate set-up, feel free to use that instead. I just think it's neat to explore the impact soulmates would have on the world building and relationships. Are soulmates formed or pre-ordained? How do soulmates work when the other person was born in a completely different era than you?

I know we had a firefighter/paramedic AU series way back in the day, but I wouldn't be mad to see it come back. I've been watching a lot of 9-1-1 lately LOL

Lawyer AUs are also always delicious. The tension that comes out in the courtroom -- HNNG!! There's a reason I have sexual headcanons for Alex Cabot (Law & Order SVU) and every single female defense lawyer and judge she came across ROTFL (And no, this doesn't contradict the no smut agreement, you and I have made, anon. One of my most formative ships was Doctor/Rose. They were heavy on the Unresolved Sexual Tension, and I firmly believe UST should make a comeback in media/fic. It's about the denial, it's about the what if's, the almost's, GUH!)

Hopefully, that gave you enough variety to inspire you without overwhelming you. I will be happy with any length of fic. So if you're the type of writer who thrives on deadlines and/or can write plotty fic in a short time, great. If you're a slower or shorter writer, also great! There seems to be a trend where readers only want 10k+ fics (at least in my current fandom), but I love short stories! I think you can do a lot in just a single scene. So write whatever length you're comfortable with, and feel free to use these ideas as just a starting point. I'll be thrilled to read whatever you come up with :) Thank you so much! 💗

[blurred-lines19]

"One bite and five days are all it took for the world to come to an end. Nearly two months after an unexplainable, violent illness swept throughout the globe like a raging wildfire, after cities have crumbled to ruin and most of humanity has been wiped out, only a few survive. Some of those still alive are just trying to survive, while others are searching for an answer—a reason why and what caused people to turn into walking, cannibalistic corpses that decay but never seem to truly die. Now, a group of survivors—a dog, few adult figures, and a bunch of teenagers—search for a cure and must figure out how to live with the undead amongst them, and how to deal with each other as relationships strain and tensions rise."

†· Word Count: 5198 †· Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types †· Rating: Mature †· Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death †· Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Silena Beauregard/Charles Beckendorf, Thalia Grace/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano †· Characters: Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson, Leo Valdez, Nico di Angelo, Frederick Chase, Frank Zhang, Luke Castellan, Hazel Levesque, Jason Grace, Piper McLean, Grover Underwood, Juniper (Percy Jackson), Katie Gardner, Travis Stoll, Connor Stoll, Chiron (Percy Jackson), Will Solace, Silena Beauregard, Charles Beckendorf, Clarisse La Rue, Thalia Grace, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano †· Additional Tags: Angst · Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence · Inspired by The Walking Dead · Title from a My Chemical Romance Song · Found Family · Bittersweet · Based on a My Chemical Romance Song · I'm so sorry · Everyone Needs A Hug · Hurt/Comfort · Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse · Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson-centric · Betrayal †· **First Person POVs** †· Rated Mature for strong language, violence, sexual references, etc..

Annabeth

My breath hitches, a chill running through me as if I'm frozen in place.

"Drop it and turn around slowly," the person—I think it's a man—orders.

I do what he says and turn around with my hands up, reluctantly setting my dagger on the floor. The guy, who can't be much (if any) older than me, stares me down with hard, sea-green eyes. Did he come through the window? He must have since there is a barricade in front of the only other viable entrance.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he asks, his words sharp and suspecting. With his eyes and the barrel of his gun still trained on me, the boy reaches behind him and grabs a long piece of scrap wood. At first, I think he is going to hit me with it, but all he does is start fixing the barricade in front of the door. "I asked you a question," he reminds me.

"I hardly think that's important," I respond. "And it is a pretty stupid idea to shoot that in here. Imagine how many walkers will show up at your doorstep. Then what?"

I still have my gun on me. Maybe I can wound his gun hand? (It contradicts what I just told him, but I'm mostly just trying to buy myself some time.)  I don't want to kill him; as far as I'm aware, he's just trying to survive like everyone else. 

My gaze drifts to the large black lab standing beside him. The dog lets out a low growl, but its owner puts a hand on its head, easing it back. Taking the hint, I revert my eyes back to the gun barrel aimed at my head.

"I didn't take your gun, but I'm about to."

Shit.

The guy sighs, clearly tired and irritated. "Look, you don't have to tell me your name—I don't even really care about that. I just want to know what you're doing here and what you want."

His messy, tangled black hair hangs in his eyes, obscuring most of his face. Everything except for his eyes, which look almost as if they’re glowing. 

I could possibly take him; his arm has to be getting tired. Except, despite appearing weary, he still looks as though he can easily defend himself. I'll keep it as a secondary option if I can't talk myself out of this.

"I got lost and somehow ended up here," I say, leaving out that I was in a group. "It was getting dark, and I was just looking for somewhere to stay for the night. That's it. I swear."

The guy looks me up and down, then holsters his gun. He definitely doesn’t trust me—and I certainly don’t trust him—but I'm grateful to not have a gun pointed at my head.

For the time being, anyway.

He turns back around and tinkers with the barricade a bit more, making sure it's secure. Just then, a thought strikes me. Is he trying to lock me in here?

"Whoa, wait a second," I say. "What are you doing?"

"You said you needed somewhere to crash, and you sure as hell can't go back out there," the guy informs me, his muffled footsteps following him as he walks out of the carpeted living space and into the kitchen; I can still see him because of the half wall between us. "They'd eat you alive in a minute.” He rummages through the cabinets.

"So, what, you're keeping me here because you don't want me to die? You obviously don't trust me—"

"Of course I don't. Still, I'm not the kind of person to send somebody off to their death just because I don't trust them," he tells me, his voice stern yet softer than before. Either way, it's an improvement compared to earlier. "But you're gone as soon as you can walk well enough. Got it?"

I watch him for a moment, trying to determine if he intends to kill me in my sleep or if he genuinely means well. (I reason the latter.) "Got it," I respond. Besides, he’s right; I’m blood in an ocean full of sharks. Not to mention that I can’t walk without nearly falling over, and my perception of everything is skewed.

He looks back at me for a second, an expression resembling something of contemplation, then turns his attention back to the dining table where he is taking out loot from his bag, which I assume is from a recent supply run.

Not sure what else to do, I sit on a dusty couch (vertigo and fatigue winning out) and look around the small apartment. Half of the furniture has been burned at some point by the looks of the bare, open space of the living room, void of any personalization; it looks like a stock photo of an apartment—not like somebody lives here. The only thing that does give it away are the sporadic, clean rectangles on the wall where paintings or photos would have been. A pile of photographs in the far corner of the gloomy, dust-covered room catches my attention. I don’t dare get up and look. (One: I will probably fall down; two: I don't want to start snooping around this guy's apartment.)

From where I’m sitting, I can see that the photo on the top of the pile is of a man and a woman, who has dark hair and blue eyes—from what I can make out in the dim light—both smiling. There is a young boy between them, about eight or nine, that looks similar to the guy before me. He has sea-green eyes, the same as the boy in the picture and the man standing by him. (They look almost identical. However, the man’s face is sterner. Moodier than his younger counterpart’s.)

The little boy, his face covered in blue frosting, is grinning from ear to ear like he’s the happiest kid on Earth.

The guy in front of me only vaguely resembles that now.

A sound like a thousand tiny alarm bells starts going off in my ears, sending a harsh pain through my skull. I press a hand to my ear, wincing at the pain. I’m all sorts of fucked up. Speaking of injuries… My ankle. I don’t want to look at it, but I need to. So, I glance down at it, and the sight of a red bruise peeking out from my boot makes me nauseous. Grimacing, I undo the laces on my boot, pull it off, and roll down my sock. Yep. I am definitely fucked. I force myself to choke back the bile threatening to come up my throat and assess the state of it. Blue and purple—almost black—bruises flourish around my ankle; they are worse than I thought they were.

“Here.” The boy with sea-green eyes appears beside me as I shimmy my foot back into my boot—I have no clue when he came back into the living room—holding out a wet cloth.

I blink at him, confused. What’s that for? He’s standing there, somewhat awkward at this point, as he waits for my reply. He taps his temple. “You’re bleeding,” he tells me quietly.

“Oh,” is all I say as I take the rag from his hand.

The guy’s brow furrows for some reason (I don’t know why). Then, his eyes widen as if he has made a realization. “Shit. I forgot,” he scolds himself. "You aren't bit, are you?"

"Um…" I look down at my arms and legs—I don't feel any pain other than in my ankle and the sore, hot, aching pain in my muscles. "I don't think so?" God, my head hurts. I just want to sleep…․

He walks around the couch, looks me over again for good measure, and nudges me forward to examine my back before determining that I'm clear.

Without saying anything else, the guy returns to the kitchen and resumes putting away cans of soup, SpaghettiOs, and bottles of water.

I wince as I dab the side of my head, seeing thick, sticky, dark red blood as I pull the damp cloth away. The bleeding must have slowed down. 

“Thanks,” I blurt.

He nods. “Sure. It’s not as bad as it looks, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“Your head. What did you even do?” he prods. “I’m gonna take a guess you had something to do with the car alarm. You nearly got me killed, just for the record.”

I brush the dark curtains aside and peek through the blinds at the street below, the car alarm still blaring. Walkers are milling about the sidewalks and in the middle of the road, the deafening scream of the car alarm drawing more and more of them. It should have stopped by now, and I really wish it would because it is doing nothing but drawing walkers and making my ears ring. Hopefully, it will shut itself off soon; I don’t want to think of how many there could be if it doesn’t stop. Who knows, though? They tend to get bored after a while, so maybe they will start moving away soon.

“I bashed a ghoul’s head on the hood,” I murmur. “Sorry about that.”

“Whatever gets it done. Next time, I would try to avoid setting off car alarms in the middle of New York City.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t intentional.”

Looking back out the window, the few street lamps that miraculously still work make the undead horde—which has gone from around fifty to a hundred or more in the past half hour—more visible. Most of them are swarming the car, becoming confused when there is no living, breathing human or animal inside; they attack the car nonetheless. Some of the others are simply looking around, dazed.

“…Almost killed myself getting back.” I was distracted by the walkers down below that I didn’t realize the boy was talking to me.

I close the blinds, turn my attention back to him, and pretend like I was listening. “I’d imagine,” I reply.

He raises his eyebrows. "What's that meant to mean?"

I really must have missed something—the context of the conversation, most likely. This concussion really isn't helping my ADHD. "I just meant that, with how everything is, it wouldn't be all that shocking if you almost got bit."

The guy looks at me, slightly amused. "You weren't listening, were you?"

I groan, rubbing my face. "My head is throbbing right now. Cut me some slack."

"Well, I gave you Aspirin a few minutes ago," he tells me, putting something in a bowl. "Didn't you take it?"

What? I don't remember him giving me anything. "You did?"

The guy sets down whatever he is doing and walks over to me, grabbing two white pills and a bottle of water off of the coffee table in front of me, forcibly placing them in my hands. 

"Take them." He has his arms crossed, hovering over me—almost like a parent—to make sure that I take it. 

I don't question him and pop the Aspirin in my mouth, washing it down with a quick swig of water. In hindsight, I definitely should, but he's taken me by surprise.

Before I can say anything else to him, a horrible, blood-curdling scream resounds through the streets—so loud that it’s hard to pinpoint where it is coming from. Alarmed, the guy rushes to the window, hurriedly pushing aside the curtains to peer through the blinds. The blood drains from the guy’s face, and I don’t have to guess why. Following his gaze, I see a boy—twelve or thirteen years old at most—getting swarmed by walkers, falling in the middle of the street as he writhes in agony, the living dead tearing him apart. The boy screams and screams, his entrails hanging out of his torso and out of the mouths of the cadavers.

I quickly turn my head away and squeeze my eyes shut as if it will drown out the noise, unable to watch any more of it.

The guy throws the curtains closed, slamming his fists against the wall. “Damn it,” he grits out, pressing his forehead against it.

We sit in silence, the boy’s screams fading into nothing more than background noise. I’ve watched people get torn to shreds; none so young, though. That’s what makes it so much worse.

“Did you know him?” I finally ask.

The guy shakes his head absently, a faraway look in his eyes. “No,” he responds, adding: “I ran into him once while I was out a few days ago. Gave him some food and a knife. So much good that did…”

“At least you tried,” I tell him. “That boy wasn’t your responsibility, but you tried to help him anyway. You did what you could.”

“There could have been something more that I could have done. Taken him in— Something .”

He stands, staring at the shut curtains as we both realize that the boy’s wails have stopped. Hanging his head, he starts back to the kitchen, his shoulders tense with anger at the monsters who ripped apart an innocent child.

"What's your name?" I ask the guy before he can leave the room again.

"Why should I tell you mine if you won't tell me yours?"

Fair enough.

I relent. "It's Annabeth." I'm not even sure why I was so hesitant in the first place. What would he even do with it? It's not like he can use it against me, and I highly doubt the walkers care about anything I've done.

"Percy," he tells me.

A few minutes later, Percy offers me a bowl of lukewarm soup, which I take from him gratefully. 

Between the pain meds—I’m relieved to report that they really were Aspirin—and food, I’m able to think clearly. This begs the question: why did I agree to stay here with a guy I don’t know, let alone why he would let me. Percy doesn’t know me, either. For all he knows, I could want to kill him or take his stuff. The guy seems nice enough—cautious sure, but aren’t we all?—yet I still feel uneasy. Not because of him, I’ve determined, but from the exertion of everything that has happened today—it’s been a few hours, and my nerves are still on edge, even now. And it’s hard to trust anyone since all of this started.

After we finish eating, having said very little to each other, Percy takes our dishes and puts them in the sink. (I’m not sure how he plans to wash them since there isn’t any running water anymore.)

As I start to get settled in for the night, he throws me a blanket from the other end of the couch, telling me that I can sleep there.

I thank him. But a concern dawns on me.

“Aren’t you worried about them getting in?” I inquire.

Percy waves it off dismissively. “Of course, I worry a little bit,” he admits. “It would be stupid not to. But as long as I’m quiet, none ever come up here.” He follows his comment with: “Most of the time.”

I roll my eyes. “That makes me feel so much better.”

A slight smirk makes its way onto Percy’s face. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Percy goes to leave, yet he pauses at the door frame, pursing his lips as if mulling something over. He looks as though he is about to say something but just shakes his head and enters his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

I didn’t think that I would feel safe enough to fall asleep. However, my body seems to have other plans, and I begin to doze off.

†††

When I wake up, I immediately note that, despite how I got here, I’m not where I’m supposed to be. I rapidly sit up before discovering that that was a mistake. A feeling like somebody twisting it the wrong way while simultaneously squeezing it as hard as they can courses through my ankle, sore and painful. I grit my teeth in pain, covering my mouth with my hand to avoid making any noise. Even though I’m sitting down, I feel dizzy. 

I fall back onto the couch, lying down as I wait for the room to stop spinning before I make any more attempts to sit up. I glance down at my ankle, seeing that my boot is missing and has been replaced by a clean white bandage. I must have really been out of it to not notice somebody taking my shoe in the middle of the night. And, though the bandage covers most of it, the bruising has diminished significantly, leaving only (from what I can tell) pale purple ones in their wake; it still hurts, but not nearly as much as it did yesterday. A guy—he told me his name, but I already forgot what it was—I remember, offered to let me stay and gave me some pain medication before I went to bed last night, which has clearly helped a tremendous amount. Now that I think about it, even my head feels better (voiding the dizziness that came from my first attempt to get up). Like my ankle, it’s still pounding. Even so, conversely to yesterday, it is tolerable—more irritating than anything else.

The room has stopped spinning now, so I decide it’s time I try to get up again.

Okay. Take two.

Carefully, I pull myself up, my arm slung over the back of the couch. I wince as my muscles, still tight in pain, strain at the minimal effort, but relax once I get myself into an upright position. I swing my legs over, my feet touching the carpeted floor. That was easy enough.

Looking around the room, I don’t see the guy anywhere. I can’t imagine that he would still be asleep. (Then again, I have no clue what time it is.)

I remember that I had my bag with me, but I’m not sure where I set it. Hopefully, the guy didn’t take it. (Not that there is really anything of value in it, but it’s still a nice bag.) 

Oh, fuck. My dagger was on the couch beside me in case something happened, but I can’t find it. Before I start freaking out though, I see that my backpack is at my feet. Along with my dagger and missing boot.

Sighing in relief, I slip my foot into my boot, taking a minute to properly wake up. Yesterday was so hectic that I’m surprised I actually made it through the night. Truthfully, I should be dead right now. I guess I got lucky, at any rate.

Sunlight bleeds through the curtains, brightening the room in a soft yet dim light.

The events after that are a bit fuzzy. Nevertheless, I somehow ended up in this guy’s apartment, who offered to let me stay for a day or two.

A sound like someone walking over a metal grate comes from above. Faint at first, then slowly growing louder as it approaches. My fingers curl around my bronze dagger. One of those things should have no reason to come in here—I haven’t made a noise, and there isn’t anything that would typically draw them. Having said that, they don’t appear to be the most intelligent; they don’t need a reason to roam and lurk in the shadows. They’re half-dead, so what else are they supposed to do? There aren’t any hospitals to help them—they all got overrun within the first three days—and they don’t know what they’re doing.

Whatever it is that is coming down the fire escape is getting closer, the rattling of the metal dull yet loud enough that it could mean trouble.

Despite my current state, I still feel like I can take the walker (or person) coming down the fire escape. I hadn’t noticed when I initially got up, but the guy’s dog—I recall now that he said his name was Percy—is curled up in the corner of the living room, near the door. It doesn’t appear too concerned. That doesn’t change my worry, however.

Right as I stand up, ready for a confrontation, the black lab bounds across the room, its tail wagging happily behind it. I see a tall man outside the window, whom I presume to be Percy, carrying two pails of I’m not sure what. He carefully sets them down on the platform beneath his feet, and opens the window to the apartment; Percy picks the pails back up, ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the bottom of the open window as he steps through.

The dog jumps on him, licking his face and nearly making him fall over. “Down, Mrs. O’Leary,” Percy says in a hushed tone. The dog doesn’t listen. “Easy, girl!”

Mrs. O’Leary, albeit rather reluctantly, hops off of her owner and returns to her corner, turning in circles a few times before laying down and resting her head on a stuffed lamb.

He looks in my direction, noticing that I’m awake. “Oh, good. You’re finally up,” Percy says.

“What time is it?” I question, tying my tangled curls into a ponytail to keep them out of my face.

He squints out the window, the sunlight bright and blinding. “About 1:00, I think,” he replies, closing the curtains. “You were out for a while.”

“How long is a while?”

Percy shrugs. “Two days.”

My eyes widen. I knew I was in rough shape, but I didn’t think it was that bad. “You are joking, right?”

I highly doubt he's joking, though I hope, rude as it would be, that he is. I’ve got to get back—not that there is anywhere to get back to, necessarily. We have a rendezvous point in case something happened before we could get to Virginia where my father is waiting for us. All the same, wherever my friends are is where I need to get back to.

“Nope. You had me worried for a minute,” he admits, carrying his buckets to the kitchen. “How’s your ankle, by the way? I did the best I could, but I’m not a doctor or anything.”

I move my left ankle around a little bit—carefully (I learned my lesson from this morning)—flexing it and moving it side to side. It still aches, but not as bad as it did a few days ago. “Better, thank you.” I watch him as he holds the buckets over the sink, pouring out some sort of liquid.

Whether or not it’s a good idea, I walk toward him, doing my best to avoid putting too much weight on it.

Compared to the living room, the kitchen is lighter, despite there being no windows. The living room walls are a pale shade of blue, the color muted by dust and grime. With the dark curtains in front of the windows, though (not to mention the disarrayed state of the room), the room looks ten times darker than it is. In contrast to the depressing atmosphere of the other room, the kitchen, while also a bit of a mess, is tidier. The counters are cluttered but otherwise clean. And the table, well, I can’t say much about it. Like the counters, it is littered with empty cans and dirty dishes stacked on top of each other, and the floor isn’t swept. In his defense, it is the apocalypse, so I doubt that is at the top of his priority list.

“What’s in the bucket?” I ask, sitting down at the light wooden table.

Percy either ignores me or simply doesn’t hear me.

“Now who isn’t paying attention?” I joke, a call back to yesterday—the night before last.

He turns around, a look of surprise on his face, as if he hadn’t known I came in. “Huh?”

“I asked what was in the buckets,” I repeat, stifling a laugh.

“Oh!” Percy says, setting down the now empty bucket and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. I’m beginning to realize that this guy is weird. (Not in a bad way, just…odd. He probably hasn’t seen or talked to anybody in a month, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.) “Sorry, I didn’t hear you talking.” I can see that. “It’s rainwater,” he informs me. “Since the water is shut off and everything, it’s the only way I can get any without going out and getting myself killed.”

Pouring some dish soap in the sink, Percy slides the dishes beside him into the soapy water and starts scrubbing them.

“You do have a way to purify that, right?” I wonder. “You can’t just drink rainwater without filtering or boiling it first.”

Percy doesn’t look back at me, but responds, “When I can. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s probably not a good idea to light a fire inside. Besides, this isn’t for drinking.”

“Fair point.” I pause for a second, thinking of an alternative. He has to have some way to purify it—he said it himself. “You said, ‘When I can,’ so you must have some way of doing it.”

“Well, when I can get away with it, I make a small fire and boil it while I’m up there during the day.”

How didn’t I think of that? I’m ninety percent certain that this concussion is making me stupid—and I’m not okay with it.

Since I don’t have much else to do, I ask if he wants help with the dishes. If I’m going to barge in on him, I should at least help out or something, especially considering that he kept me from becoming one of those things’ dinner. Percy accepts and offers to pull over a barstool.

“Why do you stay here?” I ask, the question having nagged in the back of my mind for the past ten minutes. “There isn’t anybody left here. Quiet frankly, I’m surprised you’re not dead yet.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he states, his tone transforming into something of forlornness; a dark shadow falls across his face. “This is all I know, too. Most of my family is probably dead now, anyway, so it isn’t like I have a purpose in leaving.”

“Leave to stay alive,” I advise, turning my head to look him in the eyes. He appears cleaner than he was the first time I saw him, I note. “Just because you don’t have anyone to look out for doesn’t mean that you just give up. You stay alive for yourself.”

Percy smiles a little bit, almost wistfully. “I’m not giving up—I can’t. It’s… It’s like somebody forcing you to move away without a reason. You just can’t bring yourself to it. You’ve lived in that place for as long as you can remember,” he explains. “I’m not going to just let these things take my home from me. Stupid bastards have already taken everything else from me—”

In his rising ire, he had been gripping the plate he was washing so tightly that it finally snaps under the pressure.

Percy just sighs and carelessly sets the broken dish in the empty trash can at the end of the counter. “Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly.

“It’s okay. We can talk about something else,” I offer, worried about him breaking yet another dish and accidentally attracting the undead.

Percy thanks me and starts up a different conversation—he’s more talkative than he was a few days ago—which I attempt to oblige him in, though I don’t feel much like talking after a while. The familiar pain in my ankle begins to slowly return, as does the throbbing in my head.

Percy stops drying the dishes, detecting my fatigue. “Hey, why don’t you go sit down,” he tells me quietly, taking the hand towel from my grasp. “I’ve got this.”

I nod without protest. We got most of the dishes dried off, so I don’t feel guilty about leaving him to finish the rest.

“I got some more stuff for your ankle,” he mentions. “It should be on the end table.”

On the end table beside the couch, as he said, is an instant cold pack and an ankle brace—the kind you would get at a drugstore. I have no idea how he got his hands on this stuff—at this point, most everything has been looted by people trying to survive or get out of the city. Still, I choose not to dwell on it too much; Percy had done this a few times while I was out, apparently. One thing that I will question, however, is why. There really isn’t a reason to risk his life running errands for the girl who broke into his home. I never asked him to.

“Why are you going to all this trouble?” I finally ask. “You’re lucky you haven’t gotten yourself seriously hurt yet.”

He stands silent for a minute, thinking of a response. I wait patiently—he doesn’t have to answer me. We’ve only talked a little in the time I’ve been here (half of which I was unconscious for).

After a few minutes, he answers. “Because you seem like a good person. And I told you when you came in here a few days ago, I’m not the kind of person to let someone die. Even if they did barge into my house with a dagger and a loaded gun strapped to their ankle,” he adds. “That,” Percy continues, “and the sooner you’re better, the sooner you can leave.”

Despite the last part (which causes a twinge of hurt, for some reason or other), it makes me feel more grateful.

“Thank you for everything,” I say. “But I don’t want you going out there anymore just to get stuff for me.”

He grins—the first time I’ve ever seen him do that, really—the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk like I said something amusing.

“Seriously. I’ll be back on my feet in another day or so,” I scold. “Stop going on suicide missions.”

“Who are you telling me what to do, Wisegirl?” he laughs, momentarily forgetting about the corpses above and on the streets below.

“What kind of nickname is that?” I ask, bemused.

“A fitting one,” Percy decides, quieter than a moment ago as he puts the last dish away.

I roll my eyes, shrugging it off.

After rewrapping my ankle, I nestle into the couch, which has been my temporary bed for the past three days. However, as I start to fall asleep, a sense of déjà vu strikes me. Something about Percy seems vaguely familiar; I’m not sure what, exactly. His personality, maybe? I feel like I've met him—or at least seen him—somewhere before all of this came crashing down. I can’t think of a time or place where I would have. I’ve definitely met him briefly at some point, though (or have run into him, at any rate). Thinking about it, there may be a chance that he recognizes me, too. There was obviously something Percy was going to ask me the other night before I passed out, but he never did. For a second, I contemplate asking him. However, I think better of it. He’s already asleep, and I don’t have enough energy to get up.

Read on archiveofourown.org <3

[wisteriasonthemoon]

okay so I need to just. post weekly about my DRV3 replay to hold myself accountable to some progress otherwise it's going to take forever to get through it again

hello drv3 tag, I am doing a replay. I'm only through the prologue and just into chapter 1. some notable events thus far

the pre-prologue ... prologue? where the cast is their "pre-game" selves is such a bizarre choice of scene. I replayed it several times and I'm still unsure why it's there. the simple answer is that it exists only to cast doubt on Tsumugi's version of events in chapter 6, but that explanation doesn't quite satisfy me

the flashback lights were introduced. a device that can alter memories. with no clear rules or in-universe limitations. I don't recall an additive explanation on those points later. that's fine. I'm sure my memory of DRV3 is wrong and Kodaka didn't just blow up his setting like a teenager behind the wheel in an action movie car chase

Kokichi has been in 3 scenes so far. the only one in which he didn't directly contradict himself is in the pre-prologue. he had the opportunity! he had *2* lines! but they were both questions

oh and I got to sight-see around my new prison-school

I saw this dragon

Tsumugi and Kaede alleged it was floating. they in fact had this exchange

Tsumugi: Ah…that bronze dragon statue over there. I’m just plain curious about it. Tsumugi: It almost seems like it’s floating, right? Doesn’t it look pretty out of place? Kaede: Now that you mention it…you’re right. It sorta bothers me, too.

they did not elaborate. I have no idea what they mean. I walked around the thing to get a view from every conceivable angle. it doesn't appear to be floating - not between the dragon and it's slab, or the slab and the floor

sure, from certain angles, you could argue that between the slab and the floor, it KIND OF appears to be floating due to perspective and a lack of occlusion or cast shadow. but if I swivel a couple degrees there is a tree made of a flat texture with no shadow in a 3D space, so I'm not sure I'd make the argument that that is intentional

and I saw these stairs!

this pink pattern on first-to-second floor stairs resembles a temporary texture file. last I checked in with the game dev scene, because of how textures are added atop 3D models, it was practical to utilize a generic repeating pattern before doing any committal custom texture work for an object's final appearance. otherwise you might get unseemly tiling or seams

there are two other objects accessible within the prologue that have this pattern as well: the stairs to the basement and gate-style door between the main area of the first floor and the gym. so although you could, I personally wouldn't make the argument these are "un"intentional "missed" textures

filing this one under: 'devs wanted to give you the option to believe in virtual reality', 'possible pranks by in-universe Team Danganronpa', and 'one of the monokubs has really bizarre taste in wallpaper'

these cursed lockers are outside the gym

there is a double-stack of boys lockers and girls lockers to each side of the door. I say they're cursed because they're ... completely disorganized. they don't appear to be in any kind of sensible arrangement and WORSE. they don't even match the dormitory room assignment order

I think this fully justifies any murder committed by housekeeping tbh

also these photos!

there is a whole series of these babies in the prologue's opened areas. there are 18 total. 12 of them being in 4 sets of 3 down the hallway to the left after coming down the stairs from the second floor. these appear to be actual photos with some filters thrown on top

they are hard to make out, but they appear to be nondescript fields, mountains, seas and buildings. considering them all together makes me think of an island, but beyond that, I'm unsure of their purpose

I like these ones adjacent to Kaede's ultimate research lab. doesn't the one to the right look like a smug little creature

(≖ᴗ≖ ✿)

speaking of islands

if it's been a while since you've played DRV3, you may not remember that the school was still being built during the prologue by Monokuma and the monokubs. these steel boxes appear to be storage containers for the construction

they evoke both an outer-space and nautical theme with the pressure gauges and handles that resemble ship helms

and speaking of building the school

in the prologue, arguably the third and fourth floors are not yet constructed and absolutely the clock tower is non-existent

the clock tower where, y'know, Kaito's lab was located and everyone burst out of cryogenic chambers or something to start their new life in space. according to sources. sources in chapter 5

I don't think there is a single clock, person, or mechanical bear-shaped entity in this game that is tracking time correctly

and. uh. this??? th s

I'm pretty sure this door opens up in chapter 5 to Kaito's lab, but the more I gaze upon its' visage. the more I. the more I just

?????

??????????

[snek-eyes]

Hi Vee! How are you? I hope you had a great start into the new year 🥳

I have a meta question! I'm not very good at comprehending stuff sometimes, so it might be a dumb question but alas. I'm ace, so it really bothers me not to know which is why I think you could help.

When Shax dresses up as hitchhiker and talks to Aziraphale on the way from Scottland, she says she's bemused as to why Crowley would risk destruction for him because "you don't seem his type at all". Does she mean judging by Crowley's looks and coolness and so on or does she mean Crowley had other lovers before and Azi doesn't fit in with them? The latter would bug me ngl, I'm the kind of romantic who even wants that kiss we saw to be the first kiss for both of them 😅 And then again Neil said that they can still be ace because the kiss was romantic but there is "no evidence for sexual relations" between Crow and Azi which then must include that of course there are also no hints that they've ever been involved with others...right? (I'm ace and I'm aware aces can have sexual relations if we want to but I think since Neil says they can be ace because there's no evidence of that, it means he includes those of our community repulsed by sex, too.)

I'd love if you could shed some light on the matter 😄

Cheers!

- 💫

Hey, happy new year! ✨🎉

So first, to actually answer your question, I think Shax in the car is just trying to rattle Aziraphale, like she does later in the bookshop by calling him Crowley's emotional support angel—except the one in the car doesn't work because Aziraphale's not going to be made to feel too lame to be Crowley's type, pfft. He's confident by this point that he very much *is* Crowley's type, even if they haven't acknowledged it.

Secondly: IMO, one of the funnest things about shipping Aziraphale and Crowley is how versatile they are. The only thing for certain is they, against all odds, have become each other's most important person. What exactly that means is pretty open to interpretation. All that to say, if you think they're Ace or even Aro, absolutely rock on!

I have a great appreciation for how Neil keeps emphasizing that canon is only whatever's "on the page," (or on the screen, in this case), and whatever he or anyone else might say outside of that technically doesn't count. He and Terry wrote these characters, but ultimately, they aren't real people with a real tangible history. The gaps in canon are free real estate for the viewers to respond to and mentally fill in.

There seems to be nothing in canon that says either of them have kissed anyone before—or that they haven't. Sex is always going to be part of shipping culture in one way or another, but just because someone might interpret Shax's statement to mean that Crowley's had lovers before doesn't mean you're not just as free to believe that was their first kiss with anyone ever. Even if interpretations contradict, both are technically headcanon and can be equally valid until something in the show itself says otherwise. Have fun!

[Personally: I love Ace AC! It's actually my interpretation of canon. I'm also on team "neither had ever kissed anyone" because that just feels like it makes sense, both for their characters and frankly that's how it feels like David and Michael acted it (those two men know how to kiss, if they wanted it to feel like something other than 'desperately attempting something both of them had only seen before' they would have).

But reading fics where they're *not* that can be fun too, even if I personally don't think they were actually making out just offscreen this whole time. I've read and enjoyed fics I thought were blatantly out of character, but still told me a good story. And man, I will never forget feeling like an absolute king on AO3 in the months after I watched s1, putting in whatever combination of tags I was in the mood for and finding piles of gold.]

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Ralph what do you think are the most potentially detrimental forces affecting Harry’s public image at the moment? There are those rumors (from a v unreliable source) about a superbowl halftime show which would really force him front and center in American pop-culture.

Anon 2: Can you explain more about what you mean when you say 'there are real questions about Harry's public image'?

********

I don't think there are external detrimental forces anon 1 - I think basically there are two contradictions in Harry's career that are probably not sustainable forever. Four nights at Wembley says they're absolutely sustainable now, but I do think there are questions in the long term and maybe the medium term.

There are basically aspects of Harry's career that I think have contradictions that will not be able to hold forever. Although I think it's really hard to tell when things will change for him in a meaningful way.

The first, which is discussed reasonably often is his desire to engage with queer culture, not discuss his sexuality and perform heterosexuality. I think the external environment plays a huge role how difficult it is to hold those various aspects, but I also think there are contradictions even outside the unfortunate fact that people believe that 'queerbaiting' exists and that it's useful intervention in the world to name things you think are 'queerbaiting'.

The other aspect of this is that Harry doesn't say very much - he doesn't say very much musically and he says even less as a person. This has lots of advantages, because it allows people to project a lot onto him. But it cannot last forever - Harry is not a gas who can expand to fill any space. He does have to occasionally exist in a form that people can react to.

It seems like neither him or his team are particularly good at identifying the risks in that moment. Harry was saying 'things like this don't happen to people like me' - at many many shows and I was writing 'what are you talking about Harry?' in my tags each time, before he said it at the Grammys and lots of people who are much less generous than me assumed they knew what he was talking about.

The post Grammy backlash was singificant and I think that shows that there is plenty of fertile ground for anti-Harry sentiment. But because he was on tour at the time he knew that it hadn't impacted on his core fan base. But there's a question of how it's impacted how he's seen and understood, which hasn't been tested - and also when any of this does affect his core fanbase?

[dosnotoevsky]

I'm sorry if you're getting bullied or your hard work isn't being appreciated but in terms of you as a person you come off really judgemental, arrogant and rude. Even professors have to do chores and so do you. Being a topper doesn't make you a superior person. I'd rather be friends with a kind academic failure who whores themselves around than you for all your excellent grades. Be successful, know your own worth and don't dim your own light. But at the same time don't ram your success down others throats who aren't, can't be or don't want to be your intellectual equal. It takes all sorts to make the world go round. Confidence and humility are a tricky balance I know but you're going to up bitter and twisted with this mindset you're propagating

this is the problem with venting out on social media platforms. the very first line you apologized to me if I was being bullied and then you go on to contradict those lines yourself. i have a lot of friends, I am kind to each one of my batchmates (not just classmates), and keep helping them that's why I never complained about my friends in that rant. However there are some people in my family, and around the society i live in who blame their insecurities on my capabilities even if the two are far from being interrelated. the fact that you found me arrogant and rude bc i vented out my bottled up feelings, lowering my guard down speaks volumes why some people refrain from putting their views forward on the internet. I did not even get what you said about professors because mind you, my professors are very supportive to me and my classmates but there are some who are pure sadists and they constantly try to bring people like me down, who are academically good and focused. trust me.

Being a topper does not make me superior. Yes. Thank you for admitting it. That is another thing that people like you have stereotyped about us. But even if it does give some sort of peace to us, thinking we are actually good at something (re-read my post where I said this line) is there something wrong with that? There are people in my class who are super talented at dancing and singing and they feel superior to others because they're good at it. Theres nothing wrong with it. Similarly, if we feel superior because we can actually do good academically, why is that a concern? Some toppers are annoying, ngl. Do not generalize us. Unless some of us don't bully you and ask you to worship at our altar, why is that a bad thing? I will also give you a very common example. Some of my classmates still have a stage fear in even texting our professors and suggesting them changes in the schedule so they text us because they know we got this. I'll share a screenshot of a chat from today, in this reference:

regarding who you would rather be friends with, why would I care? you do you. I wrote it in frustration bc my friends are suffering and the entire semester I kept telling them that it's the final year and now they should at least try to get back on track. literally, these friends of mine follow me on Tumblr. They don't have issues because they know the context, so chill.

I am not ramming my success up anyone's throat. We're not in middle school ffs. In terms of success, i haven't even graduated yet. I don't consider myself successful so thanks to you if you do. That's one positive thing I'll take from your message. I don't bring anyone down in my process, i help them as much as I can. But it's of no use if they completely refrain from helping themselves. You really didn't get the point.

Lastly, I am not propagating my mindset. It seems to me that you are gullible if anything that I said influenced you to change your thoughts. For that I'd say, follow the advice you're giving to me because the world is crueler than the topper you're talking about lmao.

I wrote that rant because I feel that it goes unnoticed how nobody acknowledges the mental pressure that tags along with being a topper and this one time that I spoke about it, these are y'all's replies. Really stunned. But it also proved my point so it's alright <3.

edit:

I'd like to attach a meme based on yet another stereotyped notion and i kinda understand where you're coming from

DO NOT BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU SEE ON SOCIAL MEDIA THAT FEEDS TO YOUR WRONG VIEWS!

[kcl1627]

I wonder what it is with us humans. What it is with our own made up non sensical stuff and then to create sense out of it.

Isn't it a man's ideas that nature is predictive and this can be simulated and hence we scribble signs and notations on paper and parchment all day long. To think if it all was actually a simulation at a party in some unrecognisable and unfantomable world just to decide a bet or a choice between two.

Even in these thousands of years we don't know what make us and yet we continue on. We continue on doing non sensical stuff and then we laugh. We laugh, looking at each other's face, sharing a joke, glancing at each other, hoping no one will notice. How would you describe the concept of a joke ? I think nowadays. We laugh, we talk, we share moments that even we will forget after a few hours. From the food we ate, to the reason why we wore what we did and what we observed, these little choices that have no importance except for maybe creating infinite realities and dimensions, we share with the ones we feel like it. With the people we assign the word friends, love, dear and what not.

And then we listen. To words, to noise, the buzz in the noise and the patterns and the buzz and then we call it music. Music is weird. It is like alcohol and we the addicts. While struggling, in our darks, at our lowest, even when we don't feel like it, we will always listen to these patterns of vibrations and the words and then resonate. We will always try to fill the void and ease the struggle with this almost non existent and easily disappearing waves, the displacement of particles about which we know nothing about. Don't forget that this relieving alcohol in itself is hard to create.

We are contradictory, the nature is contradictory yet we are here trying to explain contradictions and for somehow this whole grand scheme of things is beautiful. Because in the search for these answers, we unite. In the search to live, we find and experience. We group together, form networks and relations, feel emotions, discover empathy and at last disappear.

Disappear without finding the answers but with memories, the summer of the first born love, the winter where it felt a little too cold in your heart, the rains that cried with your eyes and the rains that belated with your heart. The stars that heard you talk and the breeze that wiped your face. The faces, the moments, the love that we felt for them, maybe the flowers, maybe the colours, maybe the words, maybe those dark pit nights where even if it had gotten darker, you would still be courageous because you still had them and that's what we humans call love my friends, that's what we call life and this was the rant of an overthinking mind. Thanks for tagging along.

[paintpencilink]

(thoughts too long to leave in tags)

1. Pale Erikar is adorable. Those two deserve to watch trashy romance movies together for however long it takes them to forget that they've both had enough existential angst dumped on them to fuel an entire cabal of tortured poets for a thousand years.

And it's also hilarious.

Eridan manages to be the least self aware troll in a group with some pretty impressive competition. Which is not good. But Karkat is the polar opposite of that, which is NOT ANY BETTER. Karkat is self-aware to a fault—to the point where he repeatedly gets into flamewars with his own past and future selves. His time-traveling self-overanalysis, self-criticism, and self-disgust are treated as a running gag. Eridan gets mocked by the other trolls for the way he readily contradicts himself without seeing anything amiss, or his zero-subtlety displays of entitlement, flirting, and attempted manipulation. Karkat gets mocked by the narrator.

(This difference is probably also significant; Eridan feels socially isolated, and Karkat feels constantly screwed over by Fate Itself and the cursed virus he ran. And they aren't wrong. Thing is, Eridan's also been screwed over by society and fate and LE, and Karkat's isolated because he's afraid of being rejected for being a mutant, or of not being taken seriously as a leader. But they avoid thinking about those. Those problems hurt too much, hit too close to home for them to confront easily. But they can confront them for each other.)

Anyway, Karkat is absolutely merciless with himself when he gets into one of those past/future/present arguments. Hell, he's merciless with himself even when he's alone in a chatroom, talking to his current self. Meanwhile Eridan just... doesn't really do that. He's forgiving to a fault instead.

My nitpick with the original essay is, I don't think Kanaya and Feferi are as mean spirited as this paints them. They're kinda just being teenagers who aren't thinking through everything they say or do super thoroughly. And it's kinda hard to blame them for not deeply investigating the trauma or emotional needs of a guy who keeps harassing them and threatening to kill most of the people on the planet. They're just doing whatever to get him off their backs, which is not the smartest or best team player move, but it makes sense. There is a LOT going on and neither of them is equipped to deal with as much trauma unpacking as Eridan needs, even if they were fully aware of it.

Which—I don't know if everyone lowkey "knows" that Eridan is supposed to feed Glyb for Feferi as, like, his shitty family business. He feels bad about it, and he also tries to bury that guilty feeling and put up this mask of bravado, so it seems entirely possible that either

1) most of Eridan's friends are not at all thinking about the logistics of feeding Glyb; Feferi and Vriska obviously know Eridan's been doing it, and it's hard to imagine Kanaya and Karkat not knowing, but I don't remember the others discussing it. (It's been a long time since I read this comic though.) Are they even aware Glyb needs to eat lusii? Is this on, say, Nepeta's radar in the first place at all?

2) those who do know may be assuming that feeding Glyb is just a productive outlet for Eridan's professed enthusiasm for violence, getting the cause and effect switched.

Or both. Both is good.

Anyway, someone hug this idiot fish boy. Preferably Karkat.

(They're all just... so very 13.)

Murder, Love, and Destiny: An Eridan Ampora Character Study

Warnings for things from Homestuck, like discussions of child abuse, mental illness, murder, suicide, etc. etc.

Because there's a huge wall of text after this point, I'm going to summarize what I hope to convince you of in bullet point format, and then hope you'll actually read the rest of the text before arguing with me about it.

Eridan is the least casteist highblood, if you ignore all the slurs.

Those are his emotional support slurs.

Pale EriKar was not only canon, but set up to be endgame.

Eridan is incredibly plot-relevant, thematically relevant, and was definitely originally intended to be brought back to life, alongside the other dead trolls.

He's Sad.

The first thing we have to establish is what counts as "canon" for the purpose of this essay. I am only counting the original comic up to Game Over, after which there's a general consensus that Hussie kind of gave up on his original planned ending, and slapped together something that most people hate. So I am immediately disqualifying Pesterquest, supplementary material, fanworks deemed canon, the epilogues, and Homestuck^2.

Moreover, we are taking Hussie's commentaries with a grain of salt, for two reasons. The first reason is that I firmly believe - and will be arguing - that the original plan was to bring Eridan (and the other dead trolls) back; therefore, Hussie (who has a track record of playing coy with future plot twists) can't speak too fondly of him, lest he give it away. The second reason for de-emphasizing Hussie's words is that, post-retcon, Hussie isn't very well going to say that he had plans for a better ending, and then didn't execute on them; to save face, he has to act as though his trashing of several prior plot threads, including but not limited to Eridan, was the plan all along.

Therefore, this essay will not be putting too much emphasis on Word of God, and will instead be relying on textual evidence from the comic itself, of which there is plenty. So without further ado:

Eridan is a Consummate Murderer.

The reason I'm starting with this point is that, far more than any other, this truth lies at the core of his being. Eridan is formally introduced to us with a murder, and he's haunted by an overpowering genocide complex. He outright describes to Rose at one point that "killin is all i evver done practically," and uses "murder" as an expletive (ie "swweet stinkin murder"). With a conservative estimate of 5 kills per week for 4 sweeps (Vriska looks VERY young when she has to start killing, and Eridan was likely a similar age when he began), both Eridan and Vriska easily have bodycounts above 2000 - the real number is probably even higher.

At this point, many raise an objection that Eridan is only killing lusii, but I believe we need to count his kills as troll murders, for three reasons: first, a dead lusus results in the orphaned troll being culled; second, one has to assume he has had cases of trolls trying to defend their lusii, or coming after him for vengeance; and third - and most importantly - Eridan HIMSELF is thinking about the orphaned trolls.

Compare Feferi: Go Home:

That should keep her happy for a while. At least until she dies.

To Eridan: Go Home:

That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere very sad.

So Eridan, to a much greater extent than even Feferi, is thinking about the orphaned trolls he's leaving behind, and considers his own actions to be murder.

Now that we've established the facts regarding his murders - a rough bodycount, and the fact that, by his own admission, he barely had any hobbies outside of it - we can move on to the effect that it's had on him. It's not very good!

Vriska's manipul8tions and murders had to be done for her own sake - if she ever stopped, she died. Therefore, much of Vriska's personality revolves around justifying her own actions so she doesn't have to reckon with her softer feelings, like guilt or kindness - which she expresses would be viewed as scandalous by others of her caste.

But if Eridan ever stops feeding Gl'bgolyb, everybody dies. The stakes he has riding on his shoulders are, at all times, the fate of all trolls, including all his friends. Given Dualscar's title was "Orphaner," it's implied that killing lusii for Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's duty, and is seen as such by the others, which is why nobody expresses gratitude for his hard work even a single time.

Which brings us to our next point:

Eridan is Crushed by Anxiety.

If Eridan stops killing lusii, everybody - especially his friends, but everybody else, too - dies.

If Eridan ever shows guilt or kindness, he'll be considered "weak" by the standards of highbloods - he shares this with Vriska.

Eridan is expected, by aristocratic tradition, to take on the mantle of his ancestor Dualscar and finish his work. Dualscar met a comedically cringefail end, so this is a massive undertaking.

Before finding out that god tiering is an option - so, for nearly his entire life - Eridan has had to live with the expectation that he will outlive all of his friends. The lowbloods from culling or dying on the battlefield, the highbloods from old age, and Feferi from being killed by the Empress when she gets old enough.

(This is reflected in who he talks to the most - Feferi, who's the only one with a natural lifespan longer than his, Vriska, who's a highblood, Kanaya, who's practically guaranteed to survive into adulthood, and Karkat, whose anonblood allows Eridan to give him the benefit of the doubt.)

Also if he can't land his concupiscent quadrants he'll die from that too, but that seems pretty secondary to the rest of his concerns.

He can't even make friends with the other highbloods, because sea dwellers are expected to hate and antagonize them.

He had a free ticket into adulthood, but would almost certainly be expected to join the army and serve as a commander. That is to say, his fate of performing the role of a vicious, murderous sea dweller seems dreadfully inevitable to him.

NO WONDER he can't stop having emotional breakdowns. NO WONDER his chatlogs swing wildly from relentless self-aggrandizement to traumadumping. NO WONDER he's obsessed with murder and death and genocide.

Doc Scratch calls him a "vengeful boy on the path of nihilism," and it's not hard to see why: Eridan's entire life has been about living up to the role imposed on him by society, sacrificing his own time and sanity for everyone else, which he "nevver got any appreciation for anywway." And all he had to look forward to was more of the same, all his friends dropping dead one by one before him. For Eridan, there has never been any hope.

SGRUB could have been a way out for him, but a combination of his own terrible choices, spurred on by his anxieties, and his teammates' unwillingness to knock some sense into him, meant that he only wound up mired even deeper in his hopelessness.

We all know about how Eridan wouldn't stop killing the angels on his planet, provoking their aggression and turning it into a ball of death. How he was definitely not supposed to be doing this, and how his stubborn insistence on it led to his further ostracization from the rest of the group. The thing is, when we look at his angel-murders from the point of view that Eridan's entire life has been about murdering things or else Something Bad™ happens, it actually starts to become... kind of sad.

KARKAT: BETWEEN A TRIGGERHAPPY PRINCE WITH A GOD WEAPON BLASTING ANYTHING THAT TWITCHED AND A MILLION CRAZED ANGELS HE DELIBERATELY ENRAGED, IT WASN'T WHAT I'D CALL AN IDEAL SOCIAL HUB. KARKAT: IF YOU WERE LONELY WHY DIDN'T YOU VENTURE OUT MORE OFTEN? ERIDAN: wwell i wwoulda but nobody else wwas vvolunteerin to pick up the slack on angel killin duties

Killing the angels is something he feels like his has to do, because his entire life has been about killing things he doesn't want to kill. He's unable to break out of that mindset on his own, and his unpleasant personality has scared off anyone who might want to help. No one on the team tries to understand his thought process on a deeper level, not even Karkat, who just tells him it was an idiotic thing to do without addressing his underlying anxieties at all. Indeed, "nobody understands."

And this is really the root of why I think so many people get the wrong read on Eridan - Eridan is constantly contradicting himself, constantly denying his own feelings, constantly pushing an image that he doesn't actually believe in, and constantly insisting that he's fine with all the horrible shit in his life - that he likes it, even. After all, he can't admit to his guilt for his murders, or how much he doesn't want to watch his friends die, or how scared he is about the future - that'd be weakness!

CC: I can't look after you anymore. CA: I DIDNT EVER NEED ANYONE TO LOOK AFTER ME CA: i was totally fuckin fine my ambitions were noble

You see his contradictory nature with his stated love of history, which he only ever offhandedly mentions - because he's not actually that interested in history, it's just something that's expected of someone of his station. And you see it with his wavy accent, which he himself calls "weird" and drops when he's trying to be emotionally sincere. And you see it with his dumbass outfit, which is very clearly an imitation of Dualscar (with the only exception being the wizard-ass scarf, because wizards are his actual interest. I don't believe he likes fashion. I genuinely believe - and Eridan himself says so - that he basically has no hobbies outside of murder).

Even being proud to be a sea dweller is pretty much an outright lie:

CC: You can't )(ave t)(e sort of affinity for "our kind" t)(at you profess if you've only spent, w)(at... CC: A few days underwater, maybe? IN YOUR W)(OL-E LIF-E!

One that he tells because he's SCARED OF THE OCEAN. Because he knows what lives in the ocean, because he's been feeding it his entire life. I see a lot of people who give Eridan an interest in marine life, and I'm telling you, that's just got no basis in canon. He's fucking TERRIFIED of the sea.

And for that matter, land dweller genocide. Eridan doesn't want to do it. Both Feferi AND his internal narration call him out for not actually wanting to do it. He outright states he wouldn't kill his friends.

CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be

But he feels like he HAS to want it, HAS to believe in it, HAS to be talking about it constantly, because that's what's expected from him as a sea dweller, and a sea dweller is ALL that he will get to be. The mutation that puts a violet streak in his hair is damning. It's a fate he feels like he can't escape. Which brings us to:

Eridan is Not Actually Casteist, Well He Is But Not Like That, It's Complicated

Secondary title: Those Are His Emotional Support Slurs, Okay

In the exact same vein (haha) as secretly not wanting all the land dwellers dead, Eridan also genuinely doesn't feel like he's better than lower blood castes. Vriska and Equius obviously put quite a bit of stock into being nobility, and both have acted superior to Karkat for it. Feferi actually revels in her high status, and while she is genuinely well-meaning, she's not as interested in abolishing casteism as she is in changing the meaning of "culling" specifically (the hemocaste, aristocracy, and casteism still very much exist in a Beforus under her rule). Gamzee MIGHT be the only highblood less casteist than Eridan, but then again, as soon as he snaps, he does say a lot of casteist stuff to Equius, although it's unclear how serious he is, and he also proceeds to get really into his weird highblood clown cult.

Meanwhile, Eridan - despite all his slurs and talk of genocide - does not actually try to "pull rank" on a lowblood for being a lower caste than him with a single exception. That exception is Sollux... after he's already shown having entirely caste-neutral opinions on Sollux:

CC: But Sollux finally came t)(roug)(, and now I believe t)(e full c)(ain is complete! CA: man that guy CA: hes a fuckin drama machine it is fuckin pathetic CC: YOUR STUPID FIS)(Y FAC-E IS T)(-E DRAMA MAC)(IN-E T)(AT DO-ES NOT)(ING BUT W)(IN-E AND GLUB. CC: 38P CA: fuck SORRY CC: Anyway you s)(ouldn't say t)(at about )(im, )(e is a )(ero and )(e saved my life. CA: yeah sorry

CA: my feelins seem petty and meaninless noww CA: she had better things to wworry about than my ovverwwrought bullshit CA: like the dead guy wwho savved her CA: so forget it thanks anywway

It's only AFTER he's mad at Sollux for dating Feferi that he starts going in on Sollux with casteist rhetoric... which is treated as unrequited flirting and not serious casteism:

ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal SOLLUX: w/e bro, not iintere2ted. FEFERI: -Eridan, please! I don't want to see any more dueling. FEFERI: Don't try to provoke )(im. It's not like I don't know w)(at you're doing! You keep trying to spark a rivalry wit)( )(im to get me to auspisticize between you two, and pull us out of our quadrant! FEFERI: It is t)(e oldest and lamest trick in t)(e book. It didn't work t)(en and it won't work now!

THEY don't even think he's being casteist.

In fact, directly contradicting this earlier argument he has with Feferi:

CC: T)(is is t)(e last time I will say t)(is. CC: W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!! CC: GLUB. >38( CA: pshh CA: hemospectrum begs to differ

He OUTRIGHT states his real feelings here:

CA: im the biggest fuckin idiot who ever lived CA: i cant BELIEVE i just opened up to you like a chump when i knew what was comin CA: i am one sad fuckin brinesucker CA: overemotional sappy trash youre right im not better than anybody CA: im worse than anybody CA: EVERYBODY CA: all the bodies

So the question of "is Eridan casteist" has an answer of "kind of, but also no." Eridan DOES espouse the rhetoric; he's constantly saying stuff that a casteist sea dweller "should" be saying. However, if you look at his ACTIONS, and the way he actually treats people, he doesn't actually care about blood color. He'll hit on anybody, and he's rude as fuck to everybody. The real problem with him is that he's terrible to talk to, not that he's discriminatory.

That's the thing about Eridan. Understanding him means looking past the way he presents himself, the lies he tells to himself, and even, at times, the way the narration presents him. His "overblown emotional theatrics" seem a lot less overblown when his problems ARE so real, deep-seated, and constantly causing him an unimaginable amount of anguish.

The problem is, the main people he has to bounce those problems against are Feferi, Vriska, and Kanaya, three of the people most comfortable with their privileged positions, for whom Eridan's genuine emotional distress seems like needless melodrama. Feferi loves being a princess, Vriska enjoys her noble privileges, Kanaya doesn't need to worry about culling. But for Eridan, his noble status, and the duties and expectations placed on him for it, have caused him nothing but pain - of course he would feel like nobody understands. Most of his closest friends genuinely don't, nor do they try to.

Because that's what he is at his core - a traumatized fucking child, who doesn't see any way out. Eridan is not a casteist genocidal sea dweller... he just wishes he was one, and tries to be one, because if he actually was one, he wouldn't feel so awful and scared and sad all the time. He'd be normal, like his friends.

The reason he constantly spouts anti-land dweller rhetoric and uses casteist language is to assuage this cognitive dissonance. That's why he has to come off so strong, present himself in such an aggrandized way, act like such a douchebag. They're his emotional support slurs. He doesn't actually believe what he says, which means he's a Bad Sea Dweller, which means he's Failing, which means Something Bad Will Happen, so he'd better get his ass in line and say something casteist!

And it's all made worse because:

Eridan is Dumb of Ass (and True of Word)

Oh my god you guys he's so stupid that it hurts.

Okay, that's not entirely fair. Eridan is clearly well-educated and book smart; he has some of the most elegant prose out of the trolls, and he's prone to going off on insane rants with it. (Actually, his language gets more flowery and showy when he's trying to impress a stranger, and gets progressively more laid back, chill, and even kind of "bro"-y when he starts talking to people he doesn't feel like he needs to impress.)

CA: at this point i find all her adorable black pixie dabblins to be prime kiddie playtime shit CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about

What I mean is this: his brain is so full of anxiety and cognitive dissonance and murder and death that he struggles to care about other people, which has devastating effects on his social skills. I go really in-depth on how his though process informs his behavior here. The question may have popped up in your mind already: if his casteism stuff isn't actually real, then what is Eridan actually like? The answer is, overwhelmingly, and discomfortingly, SINCERE.

This boy is gunning at 100% emotional earnestness 100% of the time, and it's deeply uncomfortable for others to deal with. He'll swing wildly from insults and derogatory language, to stating a desire to kill all land dwellers, to awe and amazement at his friends' prowess, to demanding that they do things for him, to traumadumping and venting, without missing a beat. Often in the same conversation.

CA: kan its hard GA: What CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands

He's also specifically terrible at parsing hostility. Functionally, he interprets all hostility aimed AT him as either pitch/ashen flirting or "ironic repartee," and similarly views his own hostile words as verbal jousting, pitch/ashen advances, or even just factual descriptions of the world around him (ie calling Nepeta a "kittycat shipper cavve girl"). Hostility and aggression are just kind of his baseline, default state of being, and he basically has no ability to differentiate between good and bad attention. I talk more in-depth about his emotionally bereft upbringing (and shitty lusus) here, but suffice to say that our boy isn't getting any emotional support at home, and as a result, craves attention, no matter what kind.

This also means he's insanely gullible. For example, Rose calls him an idiot to his face, and then blows up his computer, sarcastically calling it "your first lesson in showmanship." Eridan proceeds to literally considers it that, blowing up Jade's computer after he's done talking to her. Furthermore, Kanaya sees him as a burden, insults him to his face, and pretty much just bullies him along with Rose for fun.

So she trains Eridan to become a powerful white wizard of hope to challenge her, as a joke.

And yet, in spite of all that, Eridan still has nothing but gratitude and praise for Kanaya:

ERIDAN: kan i been meanin to thank you KANAYA: For What ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help KANAYA: But I Didnt Even Really Train You I Just Made You A Wand ERIDAN: yeah wwell thats all i needed i guess ERIDAN: i just needed for someone to showw a little faith in me so im sayin thanks i owwe ya KANAYA: Okay Then Youre Welcome KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic ERIDAN: wwhat KANAYA: The Thing I Just Said KANAYA: I Didnt Even Realize How Sarcastic I Was Being Its Starting To Become A Problem I Think KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science

Like, he's in the middle of genuinely thanking her for believing in him, she makes fun of him to his face, and his response is to laugh it off and offer to teach her how to properly insult someone. It's honestly... kind of sad. Not that he doesn't deserve the ridicule, but what we're seeing here is a traumatized, emotionally neglected boy trying to communicate the best that he can that he loves and appreciates his friends, and receiving nothing but mockery in return.

It's really not a surprise, then, that he goes off the deep end. His entire life prior to the game has been shit; he got broken up with as soon as he entered the game (by someone who didn't even care enough not to use fish puns while doing it); he's ostracized and avoided for the game's duration; and then he spends the rest of his time on the meteor being bullied. He feels deeply hopeless and anxious about their situation because he literally doesn't know how else to exist, and his concerns are dismissed and mocked at every turn. When Feferi turns on him with intent to kill, that's his breaking point.

I see a lot of people say he goes grimdark, or succumbs to external influence somehow, but I don't think that needs to be true (nor is it) - he's just a deeply traumatized kid with almost no support network who's finally been pushed to the edge, despite displaying every possible warning sign and making multiple cries for help. Yes, ultimately, he's guilty for his own actions, but his killing spree - alongside Gamzee's and Vriska's - represents a cohesive failure as a team to address very clear problems in their midst.

So Feferi and Kanaya are sick of his ass. Sollux hates him platonically, Equius doesn't like him, and Nepeta thinks of him as a creep. Vriska is his awkward ex, and Terezi agrees with him when he calls himself pathetic. He never interacts with Tavros, Aradia, or sober!Gamzee. Is there anyone that treats him nicely?

Uh, okay, so I swear this isn't shipping goggles -

Pale EriKar Is Canon And I Can Prove It

So, I'm going to start this with a disclaimer: you can ship what you want to ship. I don't mind. I don't care. Headcanons are valid, death of the author, etc. What you do in your free time is up to you.

What I am attempting to argue in this section is that an Eridan/Karkat moirallegiance was heavily foreshadowed, one of the most heavily foreshadowed things in the entire comic, and - assuming that the original ending of Homestuck included all the dead trolls being brought back and redeemed - was going to be endgame. There's a torrential amount of evidence pointing to this, and very little of it is acknowledged even by the EriKar shippers, which is a shame.

At the very least, I'll be happy if I can convince some Karkat RPers to be extra nice to Eridans, because they are actually just friends who care deeply about each other. Canonically.

The first thing to note is that Eridan and Karkat, at least prior to SGRUB, talk all the time, to the point where Feferi feels the need to comment on it:

CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro. CC: You leave not)(ing left to talk about wit)( your dear sweet moirail! CC: We are supposed to )(elp eac)( ot)(er wit)( t)(at stuff too, remember. CA: maybe CA: seems kinda CA: odd though

("Can you please stop having an emotional affair with Karkat" "Eh, I'll think about it")

The second thing to note is what the contents of those conversations entail. Sure, they "gossip," but it goes deeper than that, because they gossip about things that Karkat would NEVER gossip about with anybody else, because Karkat usually respects his "VERY GOOD FRIEND"s. For example, here Eridan mentions that Karkat has speculated on Kanaya's love life with him:

CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that GA: No Thats Not It CA: yeah it is your real feelins run pretty awwful RUDDY methinks evverybody knowws it CA: especially that assblood karkat he and me havve you so pegged about that its upright silly

And it's not even a one-off thing, because here Karkat is again, mentioning Nepeta's crush on him:

KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK? KARKAT: HER DISINTEREST IN YOUR ADVANCE WASN'T A REFLECTION ON YOU AT ALL. KARKAT: COME ON, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS.

It's a situation he's been trying to "tiptoe around for a long time," and he tells ERIDAN, of all people? MULTIPLE TIMES? (AND HE ALSO TELLS ERIDAN THAT THE REJECTION WASN'T HIS FAULT???? WHAT??????)

So we've established that they talk frequently and about some pretty seriously sensitive topics. But did you know that they also talk about... their feelings?

See, the thing is, Karkat has always been weirdly nice to Eridan. Here he is in a memo near the very beginning of their game, when Karkat is at his most "rah rah, I'm the big bad leader":

FCA: i got a problem FCA: wwith feferi FCA: and im really kinda sittin here in bad shape about it emotionally speakin CCG: OK, WELL CCG: I GET THAT, I HEAR YOU BRO CCG: BUT THIS IS STILL NOT THE RIGHT PLACE FOR THIS SO I'VE GOT TO BAN YOU. CCG banned FCA from responding to memo. CCG: BUT SERIOUSLY JUST GET IN TOUCH WITH ME IN PRIVATE ABOUT IT, OK MAN? CCG: WE'LL GET YOUR SHIT STRAIGHTENED OUT.

Compare that to Tavros asking for advice later down in the same memo:

PAT: sINCE i DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE NOW, bUT MAYBE HELP ME, PAT: aBOUT A THING THAT HAS TO DO WITH A GIRL, PAT: lIKE, PAT: a ROMANCE THING, yOU MIGHT KNOW ABOUT, CCG: YOU PEOPLE ARE IMBECILES. CCG: ALL OF YOU. CCG: I AM NOT POSTING THESE MEMOS TO COUNSEL YOU ON YOUR PAST AND FUTURE DATING PROBLEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CCG: WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH BASKET CASES. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE. PAT: sORRY, CCG: SHOULD I BAN YOU? WHAT'S EVEN THE POINT ANYMORE! ONE OF YOU STOOGES WILL BE RIGHT ON THE LAST ONES HEELS WITH ANOTHER SOB STORY. CCG: JUST CCG: HURRY UP AND TELL ME WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS BRO.

He then proceeds to dispense no actual love advice; he just points out that Vriska can totally read this memo too, and then mocks them both when she shows up - thus making it clear that he is giving Eridan special treatment.

You see it again in his discussion with Eridan in [S] Kanaya: Return to the Core, where Eridan invokes a "pact" between them, and Karkat immediately plays nice with him, despite himself being extremely high-strung and stressed out:

KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS. ERIDAN: i dont fuckin need this from you i take enough shit as it is from the rest a you dirtscrapers i thought you and me had a kinda pact or wwhatevver KARKAT: OK FINE, SHUT UP, I APOLOGIZE. I KNOW IT'S TOUGH BEING YOU.

That's definitely pity, which Karkat states to be the basis of all relationships besides pitch. But, sure, okay, Karkat is sometimes nice to his friends. He is, after all, the Friendship Troll, so that's not necessarily out of the ordinary. But how about the fact that it goes both ways?

That's right, Eridan "100% aggro 100% of the time" Ampora is actually really considerate toward Karkat's feelings, and basically nobody else's. Upon hearing that Karkat is distressed that Sollux has died, Eridan actively puts his own meltdown about his breakup with Feferi on pause:

TC: BeCaUsE OuR GoOd bRo sOlLuX JuSt kIcKeD ThE WiCkEd mOtHeRfUcKiN ShIt CA: wwhat the fuck do you mean by that CA: are you sayin hes dead TC: YeAh :o( CA: oh fuck CA: oh god fuck noww i feel like an asshole

He then goes on to chastise Gamzee for his shitty advice, demanding to be given the chance to comfort Karkat himself instead:

TC: BuT I ToLd hIm tO Be cHiLl TC: BeCaUsE ThErE Is a mIrAcLe cOmInG, i cAn fEeL It CA: that is the wworst fuckin advvice CA: wwhat an awwful thing a you to say CA: MAGIC ISNT REAL STUPID STOP BELIEVVIN IN IT TC: i'Ve gOt tO BeLiEvE At wHaT My hEaRt tElLs iN Me, EvEn iF It's a fAkE ThInG TC: HoNk CA: this is a lot a pointless fuckin rubbish and isnt no emotional help to him or me either for that matter CA: put kar on

Before finally giving up when Gamzee insists he's "too scared of Jack" to help, drinking some Faygo, and trying to ask past Karkat for help, because past Karkat isn't sad yet about Sollux dying. So, to recap,

Eridan's first instinct when in emotional duress is to go to Karkat.

Eridan feels like he knows Karkat well enough to know that Gamzee's advice would be useless (and is proven right by the fact that Gamzee and Karkat's moirallegiance fails for similar reasons).

Eridan is willing to shelve his own emotional meltdown for Karkat's sake.

Eridan demands to be the one to provide Karkat with emotional support.

And this is, again, not a one-off thing. In the memo Karkat opens right after Eridan and Gamzee have both turned murderous, after he's spent several minutes making death threats toward Eridan and insulting him directly, he goes:

CCG: I'M SO UPSET, I'M JUST COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. PCA: yeah i knoww wwhat its like you wwanna talk about it

Eridan spends this entire memo under the belief that it's a completely run-of-the-mill conversation they're having:

PCA: i mean yeah obvviously i kneww you wwerent serious PCA: i guess i appreciate the effort youre puttin into cheerin me up PCA: i can alwways count on you for some good ironic repartee kar nobody else really gets our sense a humor CCG: UGH, NO PCA: are you busy PCA: you said youd try to make it to lowwaa soon wwell howw about it

Which implies that offering to listen to Karkat's feelings is also a completely regular thing for them.

But something magical is ALSO happening within this last memo, and to really explain it, I'll first have to be a little mean to the GamKar shippers (sorry).

So, canonically, GamKar doesn't work out for them, despite also being somewhat foreshadowed. In fact, they feature on Nepeta's shipping wall, which is actually, in my opinion, foreshadowing that it WOULDN'T work out. (Nepeta's ships being wrong, and shipping being something she needs to learn to outgrow, is a whole essay on its own, that I'm not getting into here.)

But the thing is, the seeds for them not working out were also planted in the first - and only - real post-moirallegiance interaction that they have with each other, where Gamzee tries to calm Karkat down... and FAILS:

GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o( ... KARKAT: OK KARKAT: OK YEAH KARKAT: I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. KARKAT: NO, YOU'RE RIGHT, I SHOULD RELAX. KARKAT: AND BREATHE. KARKAT: I MEAN, WHAT ARE MOIRAILS FOR, RIGHT? KARKAT: THIS IS HOW IT WORKS, I STOP YOU FROM KILLING EVERYBODY, THEN YOU RETURN THE FAVOR AND CALM ME DOWN AND I JUST KARKAT: BREATHE KARKAT: LIKE KARKAT: THIS... KARKAT: SNIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK, THAT SUN IS BRIGHT. KARKAT: CALL ME CRAZY, BUT IT'S KIND OF HARD TO RELAX WITHIN A STONE'S THROW FROM, OH, I GUESS ONLY THE BIGGEST FUCKING STAR ANY MORTAL HAS EVER LAID EYES ON. ... KARKAT: BUT I MEAN, CAN THIS BE HEALTHY? KARKAT: AREN'T WE GOING TO GET BURNED OR HAVE OUR RETINAS SCORCHED BY LOOKING AT IT? KARKAT: OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK.

But let's go back to that memo where Karkat is freaking out in every way possible. This is how he starts that memo - so upset about the deaths of his friends and terrified by Gamzee that he can barely string together a coherent thought:

CCG: WE ARE SO SCREWED. CCG: OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. CCG: GUYS, I AM TERRIFIED, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. CCG: I'M IN A ROOM FULL OF BODIES, AND I THINK I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM? CCG: OH MY GOD, I JUST HEARD A HONK. ... CCG: FEFERI, I'M SORRY. CCG: IT WAS MY FAULT, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. PCC: Sorry for w)(at?? CCG: FOR CCG: I CCG: I CAN'T DO THIS CCG: IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME, I'M SORRY.

In fact, he's so distressed that he bans Past!Feferi and Past!Gamzee almost immediately after they come in. But then Eridan comes in, and... I mean, first of all, just compare how long it takes for him to ban Eridan:

But more interesting are the contents of their conversation. Over the course of talking to Eridan... Karkat completely calms the fuck down. Like he's entirely forgotten that he's shitting his pants with fear. In fact, he even starts critiquing Eridan for his dumbassery:

PCA: evven if i wwasnt compelled to think you wwere still bein flippant and ironic wwith me you cant exactly outright reject me can you CCG: WHY NOT PCA: cause youre future you PCA: doesnt count unless its present you til then its all fair game CCG: IS THIS REAL, ARE YOU BEING IRONIC OR SOMETHING, I CAN'T EVEN TELL ANYMORE CCG: THE PROBLEM IS, I CAN'T PUT THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR PAST YOU AT ALL, SO I DON'T KNOW. ... CCG: YOU'RE KILLING ANGELS NOW, AREN'T YOU PCA: no CCG: YOU ARE KILLING FUCKING ANGELS, RIGHT NOW, IN THE PAST, WITH YOUR SHITTY GUN. I JUST KNOW IT. PCA: wwell uh PCA: therere just so damn many kar and theyre not gettin any less bloody pissed is the thing CCG: THIS IS WHY IT WOULD NEVER WORK BETWEEN US, MAN.

It's extremely funny. Over the course of talking to Eridan, he goes from:

CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD CCG: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

To:

CCG banned PCA from responding to memo. CCG: ANYWAY CCG: THAT'S IT I GUESS.

Eridan isn't even trying to calm Karkat down. He still succeeds in doing so. This is because they are soul mates. And I mean that in the sense that the comic literally calls being moirails soul mates, which it doesn't do for the other quadrants:

A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.

That "social purpose" being that an even-tempered troll calms down a more hot-tempered one, and vice versa.

It also goes on to note:

But some pale pairings, as the one above [referring to a picture of Nepeta and Equius], will be strikingly obvious to all who know them.

But what's really interesting is the next page.

And yet others will seem to have been hatched for each other.

Did you catch that? Let me zoom in.

(Also, the blue and red cuttlefish to represent Sollux - Feferi and Sollux spend the whole game together, and even wind up talking about their feelings constantly in a pile - more on piles in a sec.)

In fact... in Eridan's first visual appearance...

The crab has always been there for him.

It's also important to talk about the bottle of Faygo that's been photoshopped to be candy red, Karkat's blood color. The path that it takes actually directly mirrors Karkat's relationships with Gamzee and Eridan - it's initially something that Gamzee has, but winds up being ejected out of his life, and washes up on Eridan's shore. In fact:

TC: SnAtCh aN IcEcOlD, dOg TC: MoThErFuCkIn cHuG ThAt sHiT LiKe yOu aNd tHe bOtTlE WaS ReUnItEd lOvErS CA: are you recommendin a bevverage to me or somethin CA: is that wwhat this is TC: YeAh mAn SlAm A FaYgO CA: i dont havve a fuckin faygo you stupid fuck wwhy wwould i keep that disgusting shit on hand TC: ArE YoU MoThErFuCkIn sUrE AbOuT ThAt? CA: oh CA: oh god youre right i do CA: i totally forgot about it TC: YoU SeE MaN TC: MoThEr TC: FuCkIn TC: MiRaClEs TC: :o)

When Gamzee and Eridan discuss this exact bottle, Gamzee even likens it to "reunited lovers"; it's something that Eridan has had this whole time (after all, he was cheating on Feferi with the guy), but never realized.

There are a few miscellaneous things that don't really mean anything on their own, but put next to all this other stuff, is worth considering, so I'll list those now.

First, they both do the bonk:

Second:

CG: ARE WE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE BECAUSE OF STUFF I SAID. TA: eheheheh you LIITERALLY a2k me that every tiime are you jokiing. TA: ii cant even tell anymore. CG: IT'S A JOKE MORON. CG: HONESTLY I'M JUST GLAD NOBODY ELSE IS PRIVVY TO OUR CONVERSATIONS.

Third, Karkat muses to his future self about how he misses his friends, especially the assholes, two pages before staring at a dead Eridan's ass (joking, he's definitely looking at WV, but it's still significant that this thought is being associated with Eridan):

CCG: I MEAN, DON'T GET ME WRONG. CCG: I MISS ALL OF MY DEAD FRIENDS A LOT. CCG: EVEN THE ASSHOLES! I MISS THEM TOO. MAYBE EVEN ESPECIALLY THEM, IN SOME PERVERSE WAY. CCG: AND I SHOULD BE RELIEVED THAT THEY ALL SEEM TO BE HAPPY IN SOME WAY, EVEN IF IT'S BY FLOATING NEBULOUSLY THROUGH DREAM PROJECTIONS WITH THEIR FREAKY BLANK EYES. CCG: AND I GUESS I AM RELIEVED ABOUT THAT. CCG: BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT'S LEFT ME UNSETTLED.

Fourth, in the same conversation, he bemoans his failed relationship with Terezi, before Future!Karkat chastises Past!Karkat for his instability and mixed signals. Going back to the page on moirallegiances, an explicit function of a proper pale relationship is stabilizing a troll's other relationships:

The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.

Of course, I don't need to tell you how messy and unstable Eridan's relationships have been.

And finally, Piles of Stuff™ are associated with moirails, and directly stated in-comic to cause an outpouring of emotion:

Standing near this pile stirs powerful emotions. The closer you stand to piles of stuff, the more freely the feelings flow. It is a law of reality.

So here's a seven-word tragedy for you: For Sale, Shitty Wand Pile, Never Used:

ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.

(Which he specifically tells Karkat about.)

So, yeah, what I'm saying is, there's just, like, a weirdly large amount to read into here. That Karkat and Eridan are probably soulmates or whatever. And that this is important because...

Eridan Is Plot Relevant (Well All The Dead Trolls Are But This Is An Essay About Eridan)

So. Now we are going to talk about themes. Yes, like we are in schoolfeeding again. I'm going to keep it simple, because "The Themes of Homestuck" is a whole essay on its own, and this one about just the shitty fish boy is already way too long.

I think it's fairly non-controversial to posit that the main theme of Homestuck is, "children should mature, care about each other, and throw off the shackles of their old society, because they will be responsible for a new world one day."

Up until Game Over/the Retcon, this is so prevalent and well-established that SBURB/SGRUB's coming-of-age themes will outright be commented upon by the characters, and the main villain is a child who deliberately stunted his own growth so he could go around kicking over other peoples' toys forevermore.

So, the thing is, with that being the theme of Homestuck, if ALL of the Alternian trolls don't survive to the end, the ending is thematically unsatisfying, because the message suddenly gains an addendum of "well, some kids just need to die," which totally sucks. Like, sure, Eridan was a violent, crazed murderer even at the best of times, but his permanent death within the canon ending kind of means that the comic is saying that people in his position don't deserve kindness or second chances. That position being a traumatized, emotionally neglected child, who was being bullied by people he considered his friends. It's a pretty terrible message.

It's even worse when you consider what other trolls don't make it to the end - Nepeta, the most outspoken troll against the hemospectrum (and Davepeta does NOT count, don't try to tell me the final culmination of Nepeta's character arc is being combined with some guy she barely knows and a bird). Feferi, who genuinely wanted the best for others, even if she was kind of a privileged princess. Aradia and Sollux also stay behind in the bubbles, even though their lives have pretty much been endless parades of suffering and being used by other people. Even Equius doesn't deserve it - he was kind of a casteist freak, but not irredeemably so, and the fact that he became kinder to Karkat over the course of SGRUB proved that he had the capacity to change. And Tavros, allergic to himself and being insulted by Vriska, is a terrible way to end his arc.

It's also really clear that, since half his friends are dead, Karkat just doesn't really have anything to do. His title is the Knight of Blood, and Blood is about bonds - romance, friendship. And yet, he ends the comic having never figured out what Blood was about, with no confirmed filled quadrants (sorry DaveKat likers, but within the comic itself, DaveKat is never confirmed), and most of his bonds nothing more than ghosts in the bubbles. It's a terribly unsatisfying ending for the most narratively important troll.

I think, then, that even if you don't agree that Homestuck should have ended with full revivals and redemption arcs for all the trolls, the essay is going to proceed on like you do, so, sorry, I guess.

The thing with Eridan, specifically, is that he's actually tied deeply into the plot and themes, and his return means more than just Karkat finally getting a date (although that's important, too). Eridan is directly intertwined with a prophecy to kill Lord English; he's set up to mirror Caliborn and Calliope; and thematically, his redemption would be the most clear instance of the "interrogating society" part of the theme of Homestuck, because Eridan is kind of the Society Troll. And also, he was definitely supposed to be Roxy's wizard boyfriend.

Just gonna get that last one out of the way real quick because it's a fast one, Roxy fucking loves wizards and is a hipster. Eridan is a wizard and is also a hipster. Roxy has a crush on a prince. Eridan is also a prince. Roxy wears a purple striped scarf. Eridan wears a blue striped scarf. Roxy uses rifles. Eridan uses rifles. Momlonde's introduction includes a passive-aggressive fridge battle that features a cameo of Eridan's quirk.

Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together. Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for your convenience.

Yeah. So. Uh. Not only did Eridan need to be brought back to date Karkat pale, but he also needed to be brought back to date Roxy flushed. Can you imagine how funny it would be. They'd get together within 5 minutes of meeting for the first time and Rose would lose her shit. Anyway.

Him being a parallel to Calliope and Caliborn is also a quick one - Caliborn uses Riflekind/Sceptrekind, and Calliope uses Pistolkind/Wandkind. Eridan's two weapons are rifles and wands. Lord English is described as an evil wizard and at one point is shown using Calliope's wand. Eridan is also an evil wizard who uses a wand.

Look, I'm not saying that Eridan is necessarily directly related to these two, nor am I even necessarily saying that he and Roxy HAVE to date, but I am saying that he's got Weird Plot Connections that make him bizarrely relevant to characters that only come into play well after his death - almost like the comic was setting up that he would be coming back. His reaction to Cronus supports this, which I go into detail about here.

There's other strange "Eridan's plot important" things, too - like the fact that he's completely unimpressed by Faygo, considering it to be "just soda," and seems to be the only non-cultist who's okay with it. Or the fact that he's actually been awake on Derse since before the game (but unable to hear the horrorterrors, maybe foreshadowing some psychic resistance?) which he casually reveals to Kanaya and which Terezi is aware of, hence he's included in the people she names are "in" on the existence of the game. Or the fact that the genetic code for Alternia's first guardian was written within the pages of four FLARP books, with the addition of a fifth code Gamzee wrote in Karkat's ~ATH book... but Eridan was the fifth FLARP player in the team, implying that Doc Scratch/LE influencing Gamzee caused him to usurp Eridan's part of the first guardian code, giving LE his way into the trolls' universe.

Individually, it's all kind of nothing, but it just paints a bigger picture of Eridan being weirdly relevant, especially when we get to the juicy stuff:

The Prophecy

ARANEA: The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut he once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. ... [T]his magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. 8ut the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. ... ARANEA: 8ut at some point he 8ecame disillusioned with magic. If there ever was any truth to his far fetched vision, the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to 8e as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on to some other Hero of Hope.

ERIDAN: i slaughtered enough angels to knoww my limits and wwhere i stand against the lord of all angels they prophecized

GG: im pretty sure hes from the future! CA: wwhy GG: because he said hes my grandson CA: wwhat the fuck is a grandson CA: is that some kind of pervverse human familial thing GG: umm yes ... CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be ... CA: i kinda think thats wwhy i found the gun in the first place CA: but noww im forsakin it because fuck i just found a better destiny than my old crappy one wwhich i nevver got any appreciation for anywway

Jake is supposed to have been the one to defeat Lord English. (No, Jake defeating pre-LE Caliborn right before he gets sealed into Cal doesn't count! He doesn't even get the final blow in that fight, DIRK does.)

But Eridan at one point had that destiny on his shoulders. Aranea turbohealing Jake, and the resultant hope field, summons a bunch of angels, which are heavily associated with Eridan - yet another random connection that Eridan has with future plot events.

Jake was another character, alongside Karkat, who was kind of reduced to a joke by the end, despite the fact that he had literally, directly, been passed the destiny of defeating Lord English. It's hard not to see this as a consequence, at least in part, of removing Eridan from the story. By cutting him out of the fabric of the ending, several plot threads - including this prophecy - are left dangling in irrelevance. And so Jake, like Karkat, now has nothing to do.

Homestuck is generally a series where every prophecy does come true, which makes it kind of startling when several prophecies fail to - Feferi's to "unite the two races," Jake's to defeat Lord English, and Karkat's to bring "compassion, forgiveness, and equality among all bloodlines" in the Signless's place.

That last one is actually relevant to:

The Thematic Importance of EriKar As Soul Mates

Eridan represents the worst aspects of Alternian society. He's a sea dweller at the top of the caste structure, with free reign to murder whoever he wants, soaked in the blood of thousands of innocent trolls. He espouses the casteist rhetoric that their society is built on, calling for the deaths of all land dwellers and the oppression of the lower castes. And while he should be benefitting from his position of privilege, it has also done nothing but hurt him.

Karkat, meanwhile, is a pariah. A mutant who would've been culled on sight, who spent his entire life living in hiding, and most of the game in fear that he would be ostracized or worse by the rest of his friends if they found out about his blood color. He's also the second coming of Troll Jesus, and thus, more despised by the Alternian ruling class than a mutant normally would be. For most of his life, he dreamed of nothing more than finding belonging within the society that had deemed him unfit.

Their friendship is something that "should not be." The highblood and the mutant. The royal-v and the off-spectrum. The empress's sea dweller and the second coming of the signless. Eridan "should" see Karkat as a miscreant to cull on sight. Karkat "should" be terrified of Eridan's very existence.

But in reality, Eridan doesn't give a shit about blood color, and Karkat just wants to be accepted. Eridan just wants someone to care about him, and Karkat loves his friends. Aside from Feferi, Eridan is the only highblood who never comments about Karkat's mutant blood, and they were best buddies even before Eridan knew.

Eridan and Karkat getting together isn't JUST the two most undateable trolls on the team finally landing a stable quadrant. These two, moreso than any other pairing, represent the themes of Homestuck. Children growing up, caring about each other, and throwing off the shackles of their old society.

In the pre-retcon timeline, their team failed to do so. This led to Gamzee falling into his highblood clown cult, Equius letting himself and Nepeta die by submitting to his place in the hemospectrum, Vriska killing Tavros because she couldn't allow herself to show weakness, and Eridan completing his caste's dream of genocide. Karkat spent the entire meteor trip and beyond beating himself up about it, since he considered it all to be his fault.

But with the introduction of John's retcon powers, they have the chance to, one by one, redeem themselves. I believe that's how the original ending would have gone: Terezi would ask John to bring Vriska back, because she only feels comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Vriska would then have asked John to bring back Tavros, whom she regretted killing. Tavros would be there for Gamzee, rendering him an ally. Gamzee would ask John to bring back Equius and Nepeta. Equius would ask John to help him not make the same mistakes with Aradia, and Aradiabot would catch John by the wrist and demand he bring her back in time to before she died, allowing her to circumvent her own death and Sollux's guilt. Sollux would ask John to keep him from provoking Eridan, saving Feferi. And Feferi would be pretty ok with the way things were... but KARKAT would then pull John aside, and drop an entire book of mistakes he made on John's lap, and this would result in a finalized timeline where all his friends are alive and god-tiered.

Because all the trolls SHOULD have survived.

Vriska should've survived because people should be allowed to have second chances.

Tavros should've survived because caring about each other, and being willing to show kindness and mercy, are good things.

Gamzee should have survived because people mired in religious fundamentalism and cults deserve to be offered a helping hand.

Equius should've survived because people should be allowed to grow and change their beliefs.

Nepeta should've survived because she was the anti-casteism troll. Casteism is bad, folks! Not only that, but I'm convinced that she was originally going to give the Ultimate Self exposition, and Davepetasprite^2 had to be contrived in the canon ending in order to shortcut Nepeta's character development, ruining it in the process.

Aradia should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team and live a life free of the control of evil uncles and shitty ancestors.

Sollux should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team because we all deserve to heal and be happy.

Feferi should've survived so she could be in a kismesistude with Nepeta, and realize that casteism itself is bad, not just the definition of culling, and then used her Witch of Life powers to even out the lifespans between the next generation of trolls, which needs to happen or else casteism will just happen again as long-lived highbloods inevitably amass power. And, also, it would complete the prophecy Gl'bgolyb gave her that she was intended to unite the two races (dream bubbles don't count, because by that metric, Sollux did more than she did by establishing a connection between the trolls and humans).

And Eridan should've survived, because the harm society has done to us can be undone. We don't have to submit to the roles it imposes, to the laws it wrote, to the abuse it inflicted. We can be free.

I've seen a lot of people who believe that such-and-such character did SUCH awful things that they don't deserve a happy ending. Oftentimes, it's Eridan, but nearly all of the dead trolls have gotten this treatment. So, let me just ask all of you who have gotten this far and still hold that opinion one thing. Do you think that's what Troll Jesus would have wanted?

This is why pale EriKar is so important: for it to happen, Eridan has to make a choice between upholding the beliefs of his shitty society, or pursuing a happier, kinder future, one where he outright rejects the caste system. For it to happen, Karkat has to shake all his insecurities about not being good enough by Alternian standards, and take on the duty of creating something better than what he came from. If pale EriKar happens, it means Eridan and Karkat choose love, not fear. Compassion, forgiveness, and equality.

This choice - this pairing - is the ultimate representation of giving Alternian society one big middle finger. Saying, we don't need you anymore, fuck off! Saying, we reject you at your core; we will choose something better! Saying, we will create a new world, and it will be kinder than the one we came from!

Pale EriKar means LOVE WINS.

Thank you for reading.