#Speculations from the cavern

[shootingstarbit]

now wait a sec

that tear's not red, is it

in fact, it kinda looks like

hmmmmmmmmmm

[weaselmcdiesel]

ok so it's not a comic hope thats ok with you but instead it's karkat n nepeta but designed by someone whos madly in love with them both

some more au explanations + transcript beneath the cut

they're maybe around 30-40 yo? This was mostly just an exercise to give both of them adult designs. uh. i'm only calling it an au because I made bs some explanations behind their designs while i was drawing them. so uh, in this universe, sburb never happens + things that happened because of sburb don't happen either, but the alternian society is relatively unchanged. i dont actually know.. what.. karkat does.. like i cant figure out why he wouldnt be culled but it doesnt really matter i just wanted to draw him looking cool! (i am. open to hear about speculation if you have any). also i figured that Kanaya would go to the brooding caverns after her lusus dies, bc the wiki said her lusus would die regardless of the game taking place n whatever, and probaly do something with the matriorb there idk. thats all tho! ill prolly draw them more and maybe develop more lore as i do ^^;

--

Transcript!

i don’t know what their dynamic is in the canon of this au… but that won’t stop me from making them kiss :]

The Vigilant adult karkat on alternia

new highly developed shoosing skill

honestly has a calmer demeanor because he’s learned what’s worth exploding about… though he probably developped a crazy resting bitch face

pleased (arrow to karkat with a neutral face)

The sash doubles as a sling for when he visits Kanaya in the brooding caverns. He’s also very tranquil around grubs because they don’t cause unmanageable problems. He’ll get mad if someone else bothers one

(yes i’m obsessed with dilfkat that’s why i drew this)

The Predator adult nepeta on alternia

Taller than karkat <3

still a silly goober, but better at getting what she wants

she probably got her title from a history of single-handedly slaying fearsome lusii. she likely takes assassination type of jobs because of her stealth. one of the more easy-going trolls from the group

--

also! fun fact. i was having trouble designing kk's outfit so i looked in an old antiques catalog book from the internet archive to get inspiration from objects that had the same colors as those that i wanted to use in his design? not sure why i did that. just had a hunch that it would be fun. so this is the object i found that strangely enough inspired kk's fit

haha.. and i also found one for nepeta, though it was easier to design her fit and i didnt actually need a reference object

the book was "Antique Trader antiques & collectibles 2009 price guide"

[dingodad]

please god i need to know what U think of the whole “jadebloods are all female!” thing because i got into homestuck in 2019 around the time of friendsim and (retching) Lanque so i always assumed they were explicitly intended to be an all-female caste. however, re-reading the comic this year, i couldnt find a mention of it other than virgo and the Space aspect being really feminine, but i think kanayas journey with motherhood is more kanaya-centric than All-Jadebloods centric??

on one hand, it makes sense given that alternia has very real gendered oppression, so what’s better for that than CATHOLICISM?? on the other hand, i always saw kanaya as being transfem coded, because it connects so well with roxy yknow.. homestuck fans love to insist that certain characters just have to be cis women (kanaya, jade, roxy)

(as an aside; was “long hair was butch on alternia” a one off joke? i like speculation about alternia’s fashion opposing earth, lol)

most all of our basis for explicitly gendered interpretation of Alternia comes from act 6 intermission 3, where Aranea tells us that "jade 8loods were also an almost exclusively female caste". so the door has always been open for there to be "some male jadebloods". but it's a mistake to view this as having anything to do with any kind of "biological sex". the whole idea of biological sex among trolls is a smoke screen. the jadebloods' assigned gender at birth is "jadeblood". this is what makes them a feminised caste.

Caliborn doesn't have a clue what biological sex is. Aranea will tell you that there are boy cherubs and girl cherubs, but for your own sanity you need to cast this idea out of your mind: cherub sex takes place between good and evil cherubs - which is determined by their blood - and anything else is just roleplay. Caliborn's attitude toward sexing is that the ones he likes are boys - that's all the thought that goes into it. and that's the mindset we need to be aware of when we delve into understanding troll gender. there are some trolls who have breast tissue and some who don't, but they aren't "mammaries" in any sense, so there's no reason to believe they're actually sexual characteristics of any kind; maybe this is what Lord English chose to base his gender schema on, but the idea that this means there must be "male trolls" and "female trolls" is completely imagined for the narrative convenience of the human reader.

when we read that there are "male-dominated" highblood castes and therefore by implication female-populated lowblood castes, it's not by some coincidence of biology: the highblood castes are male-dominated BECAUSE they are highblood castes. each caste has a role to play in Caliborn's Alternia, and just as the highblooded roles are those of patriarchal domination, the lower castes must take on roles of feminised submission; and in the case of the jades in particular, this means breeding duties. the fact that this also comes with the expectation to wear makeup and pretty clothes is just more roleplay.

so tl;dr what i think of "the all jadebloods are female thing" is that it is very obviously true but in a way more 5 dimensional gender studies way than anyone else tends to mean when they say it

my pet "long hair was butch on alternia" headcanon - which is a joke but in the way all headcanons about alternia should be jokes of some kind - actually kind of relates to this lol. bc i figure that if gendered expectations of female trolls includes working in disgusting underground caverns filled with genetic material, it's going to be practical to keep your hair close to your head where it won't get dirty, in much the same way the feminist image of the short-haired woman became popular in the west during and after world war 2, wherein a lot of women had to start wearing their hair close to their heads to avoid scalping themselves in the factory machinery they suddenly had to start working with. hence kanaya dedicated to her assigned feminine role and wearing her hair short vs. porrim rebelling against it for feminist reasons and thus wearing her hair at a length that would be totally impractical for wading through gene pools.

[shibaraki]

ON THIN ICE ┊ TODOROKI TOUYA

synopsis: your partner’s injury left the future of your skating career uncertain. but where one door closes, another is being held open—and has been, for many years.

tags: GN reader, no quirk au (figure skating), reader is an ice dancer, retired ice skater (+ teacher) touya, angst + fluff, sports related injuries, childhood friend shouto, best friends older brother touya, reference to canon, romance, mutual pining, first kisses, getting together, ice skating jargon (to the best of my ability lol)

wc: 8.3K

A pair of young, doe-eyed volunteers parted the curtains. Beyond it the battered ice and a stadium filled to capacity, their deafening cheers flooding through to the corridor. Harsh flashes of light assault your vision where the photographers are standing around the entryway; if not for the hand in yours, you’re not sure you would’ve been able to move.

The applause crashes over you as the other couple exit the ice. Bouquets, ribbons and gifts are thrown onto the ice, swiftly collected by the sweepers as the gates are opened for you to begin warming up.

“…and Todoroki Shouto!”

Your names are announced side by side, syllables ricocheting through the cavernous arena. Aizawa is there to take your jacket and hang it over the crook of his arm. You haven’t trembled under his sharp scrutiny in years but it is a close thing.

“Go out there and do what you do best,” he nods.

The cold rink air balloons in your lungs. It feels as though there is a black hole in your chest pulling at every quark within your body. You glide after Shouto, tension released from your shoulders in increments as you do a warm up lap of the rink, pushing into every stride to keep up with Shouto’s pace. He’s pale, you notice. A sickly sheen of sweat illuminated for you to see under the stadium lights and a pinch to the smile that softens as your fingers flex.

The beginning notes to music for your free dance start to play. In a blink it is nothing more than a figment of your imagination—there’s no time to second guess. Shouto takes you into his embrace and the routine you’ve worked to perfect throughout the season comes naturally. Rippling around one another like water meeting again and again, endlessly going out and coming in. Every leg movement, every turn and lift, every flick of the wrist snapped in time with the beat as you reacted to each other, movements tightly entwined, merging with a synchronicity that you would have only dreamed of in your adolescence.

The song crescendoed. The world fell silent.

And then it erupted.

Applause echoed around the arena. Thunderous, enough to overshadow the violent beat of your heart. You’re dazed, caught in a snare. Shouto poised above you, his pupils blown wide, a wild, pained look in his eyes. As presence of mind returns you become acutely aware of the arm shaking around your waist, the hand buried in his hair. The proximity—or lack of it. Short, frantic puffs of air ghost across your cheek.

You start to panic. Your hand slides down the curve of Shouto’s throat and he blinks, startled. And then his face crumpled.

He grew heavy in your arms.

He collapsed.

ICE DANCING PRODIGY TODOROKI SHOUTO TO RETIRE: UNDERGOES SECOND HIP SURGERY Skatebuzz - 11 December 20XX - 16:34

Three time national champion and prospective Olympian Todoroki Shouto will not only be missing the entirety of the 20XX-XX season but every one following. Revealed in a statement uploaded to his social media, Todoroki Shouto has announced his intention to retire. The ice dancer is reportedly recovering and ‘in good spirits’ regarding his decision. While the skating community has come together to wish him well, they have also begun to speculate about the future of his partner…

A slow, electronic instrumentation accompanies you onto the bus. Soft vocals intertwined with a soothing ambience. Purposeful in your choice of music—hoping it’ll calm your restless mind before you arrive. Your body jostles as you stare down at your phone. You click out of the article and open the text app. Eyes skim over the messages Touya had sent you an hour ago.

Touya : 16:45 ➢ Rink?

He must’ve heard the news.

You : 16:53 ➢ omw

Touya : 16:55 ➢ K. Hurry up

Things had gone quiet after Shouto’s second surgery last week and you haven’t been skating since. Over the years you had shared multiple strained numerous ligaments, a few blade nicks, bruised a coccyx and broken a finger or two, but a long untreated hip labral tear was not so quick to heal. You’d respected his request to sideline any talk of skating for a while. Having been skate partners for nearly a decade you understood the grief he must be feeling, because in part you are feeling it too.

Shouto’s absence on the ice was akin to a phantom limb. His father, Todoroki Enji, paired you together in early childhood, and over time a pleasant friendship quietly blossomed as you endured rigorous training and competitions together. Even after he broke away from Enji’s iron grip and sought new guidance under Aizawa’s care you followed right behind him. You had plans together. Dreams to chase.

To put to rest. To create anew.

The bus rolls to an abrupt stop. You grip the nearby handle and gather yourself quickly, shucking your bag higher as you walk down the narrow aisle toward the front. You dip and murmur in thanks at the driver before stepping off into the tepid air.

Seeing the rink is always a bit like coming home. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t desperately missed it. People smile in your direction, employees waving you in, recognising your face. The din is muffled by the music pouring into your ears; simple, contagious chords paired with soulful vocals. You hum along and kick off your shoes, taking no notice of the others in the locker room, incognisant to their whispers.

You hang your skates over your wrist and pad through toward the rink. Cold air fills your lungs. The old pop song playing through the speakers disrupts the harmony of your own—you pull out the earbuds with a sigh and lower onto a nearby bench.

A few feet away you hear a young girl exhale an awed sound. You glance up and follow her line of sight. There are a few junior level skaters doing their final lap, most practicing on their own, but that isn’t what she’s staring after. Gliding around the far end of the rink is their trainer, Todoroki Touya, and your best friend’s eldest brother.

Growing up alongside Shouto ultimately led to spending time with his family. You were integrated little by little, until it was entirely normal for you to have a set of spare keys to his house. Touya had been a taciturn presence amongst the siblings. You were drawn to him from the beginning. Rough around the edges and quick witted. Swan-like limbs, lithe muscle and a narrow waist, you recognised the subtle gentility in his movements that can only be attributed to skaters.

Though you knew he still practiced everyday, the topic of Touya’s dead skating career was off limits. You learned that very quickly. And you understand why now more than ever.

Watching him warm up in solitude, you couldn’t help but privately think the world had laid him to rest before his time. He shed his form and became one with the ice. Your ears prick at the sound of the blades as he slides, his loose white t-shirt billowing with the quick turn, flashing slivers of pale skin and scar tissue. The muscles in his thighs strained in the confines of his leggings as he took off to jump, wing span broad and beautiful, body suspended in the air.

There’s a lump forming in your throat. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t competition standard, or that his step sequences were unrefined. Touya always burned on the ice—he threw away his shame and took every leap without fear, because he was determined to do it. Because he knew he deserved better.

Poised like a prima ballerina, Touya grabs the edge of his blade and bends his leg high, changing the trajectory of his spin. For a few short minutes he is a soft blur, and then he deftly alters his footing, pushing off into another lap of the rink.

His speed increases. Curiosity urges you forward towards the rink wall. Your hands grip the railing, sucking in a sudden breath as you recognise what it is he’s trying to do.

A triple axel.

Touya lands hard and barely maintains his balance, forcing a stunned gasp from your lungs, joined by a chorus of others. It was clumsy and amateur, yet perfectly imperfect. The bright fluorescent lights reflect on the ice, exaggerating the mottled pink cutting across his cheeks, and the expression on his face can only be described as serene. Your heart hammers with excitement as if you were right beside him.

A modicum of guilt lingers despite everything. It was always too easy to envision yourself there. Shouto was a wonderful skater, and a partner hard to come by. He managed to make the act of sweeping another person with one arm for three rotations over an icy surface look effortless and skated like he was born for it.

But figure skating is brutal, a dangerous and painful sport cleverly masked by elegance and beauty—just like Touya. As he sinks to his knees with his head tipped back, releasing a loud, exhilarated laugh, you can’t help but think:

Touya skates like he’s in love with it.

Brushing back the loose white hair stuck to his forehead, Touya surveys the rink. You flinch away from his gleaming eyes when they land on you. The joy in his face turns grim as he pushes up and begins to glide over.

You, guided by your foolish nerves, scramble back to the bench and start on your skates. A presence steps off from the ice, another warm body at your side. Your fingers tremble as they work at the knot in your laces, undoing, pulling apart the tongues, shoving in your pointed foot. The silence grows slightly oppressive as Touya lowers himself to sit He leans forward, propping his chin on his bony knee, blades scraping the floor.

“All those gold medals at home and you still can’t lace your skates properly?”

It’s as much a lie as it is an olive branch. You bite your tongue, casting him an indolent glance. Touya rolled his eyes and patted his knee. You kick your foot up into his lap and set it down gently. He used to help you lace up, back when you were still floundering on the ice and learning how to fall. Meticulously, he crosses and pulls each loop taut. Touya remembers exactly how tight you liked your skates to be without a word of direction.

“They’ve announced Shouto’s retirement,” you say delicately. “And mine by proxy, I guess. I had to hear about it from Skatebuzz of all things”.

Touya grunts. After two long minutes he makes another of his quiet pay-attention-to-me noises. Wordlessly you meet his gaze. The cool overhead lights illuminate how his expression is flat in admonishment, “You shouldn’t look at that shit. It’ll make you miserable”.

A wave of irritation comes over you. “I still want to know. I knew he was considering it but—I should’ve known first. I have a right to, and it’s,” your voice cracks under the sudden sad weight sitting on your chest. “It’s not all bad stuff. There were nice comments”.

“They never stick. You forget them as soon as you see something negative”.

“That’s not—”

"I would know," Touya interrupts harshly. His eyes shutter as he collects himself with a deep inhale. He shakes his head and your leg jerks, skate knocked off his lap now that it is secure. “Give me the other one”.

You do, but not without first making a face at him, that which he returns tenfold. “Ugly,” he says. The warmth in his tone is all that keeps your hackles from raising. That’s how Touya is. Beautiful and bright and bruised, like a wounded animal that yelped at the lightest touch.

“Bastard,” you reply. “You looked cool out there, by the way. I didn’t know you could do a triple axel”.

“Can’t. I always fuck up the take-off,” he shrugs. The compliment is dismissed but there’s finally colour in his cheeks again. You’ve long since learned the intricacy of interacting with him. Treat him too delicately and he’ll bite. Treat him too flippantly and he’ll bite. There’s a careful balance between caution and carelessness.

Shouto never truly mastered it. As brothers they communicated like two closed fists. This is perhaps the only thing you can do that he cannot.

You smile at the thought, only for it to taper as you study Touya’s hands. Lithe fingers, a broad palm, uneven skin. A memory pushes its way to the forefront of your mind. For a fraction of a second you’re small again, and your hand feels tiny in his. You can barely keep yourself upright in the ill-fitted skates on your feet. You catch your toe pick and careen towards the ice with a yelp, only to be pulled back upright by Touya.

“I’ve got you,” he assured with a big, proud grin as you regained your bearings.

The force behind his present movements grows rough under your scrutiny. You wince. He loosens the laces and starts again. Off the ice there’s nothing particularly graceful about Touya. None of the typical pride and swagger. Like this he’s just—Touya. Bony and awkward, white hair tousled in every direction. Your best friend's older brother. The boy that kept you from falling on the ice when you were five.

Your dynamic has always been oddly harmonious, if not a bit melodramatic, your crush withstanding. It had been a plentiful source of lighthearted teasing from your partner and rinkmates alike. Whether his attentiveness toward you was for the purpose of goading Shouto in some way you weren’t sure, but grateful all the same.

It was Touya who stiffly suggested you assist him with the novice ice show. At the very least as something temporary to do, keeping your mind off the prospect of bowing out of competitive ice dance for good. The reception from your rinkmates had been lukewarm compared to the disastrous scenario you’d picture in your head. It came with varying degrees of surprise and confusion but overall they respected it. Shouto’s insistence that he attend your rehearsal blocks whenever possible tempered a majority of the nastier rumours, for which you were thankful, though not everyone had a working filter.

You’ve been working on refining individual elements for the kids. It’s far more difficult than you realised. After years competing at such a high level you’ve needed to reacquaint yourself with the basics, and somehow assemble them into a coherent, beautiful dance that would make your class feel proud.

Appreciative as you are to have him there, Shouto was no real help either. He was a natural at skating; albeit reluctant to accept that fact. Whenever one of the children asked him to explain the specifics of something he would end up staring in a loss for words. He rarely gave much active thought to the mechanics of how he skated since he instinctively knew how to do it.

Touya was the opposite. He skated with purpose and understood every movement his body made. What he lacked in clean edges he made up for in musicality. Purported by his emotions, in a way, and coaxing you along with him. He’s a good teacher. Passionate in a way that sparked passion in the student’s while being firm enough to keep them in line.

He could demonstrate each solo element with ease and explain it step by step. You envied the fire in his belly—undistinguishable and bright. Spending more time together has only succeeded in fuelling your feelings towards him.

“Skate with me?”

Touya’s sharp eyes skim urgently across your face in search of something. They soften. He huffs and then jerks his head toward the rink. “Why else would I tell you to meet here?”

Your cheeks ache, and you realise you’re smiling.

The junior level skaters have petered out, leaving the space relatively empty. You remove your guards and follow him onto the ice, doing a warm up lap of the rink. His legs—and by extension, his stride—are no longer than Shouto’s, and you don’t need to fight to keep up.

"Want to start with the Dutch waltz?"

While Touya earned his fair share of accolades—placing first in the Junior’s Division World Championship and receiving a Grand Prix invitation before the accident—he was never an ice dancer, and you loved monopolising that fact.

As expected Touya shot you an affronted glare. “I’m not doing the Dutch waltz. Toddlers can do the Dutch waltz,” he exaggerated.

“Should be easy for you then,” you replied blithely.

Touya let out a long sigh and shook his arms out before extending them to you. Hip to hip, you take his hand, dazed by the unfolding reality of the situation and the warmth of his skin. You let your blades carry you through the long axis of the rink and stand in a starting position.

Your uncertainty carries into the first steps, ebbing as the sequence progresses. Touya’s scowl smoothed out and his posture relaxed, aiding the flow of your shared movements and momentum. Your legs swing out in unison and the cold air whips across your cheeks. Preliminary as it was, you were excited to be skating with him. Glad, in part, that nobody else was around, giving the illusion that you were alone together in a space of your own making.

The hour passes cycling through a waltz at a time and crests at the final turn of a Westminster waltz. Despite his lack of formal ice dance coaching Touya’s technique was decent, as was his speed, and he flowed through each pattern as if it was the hundredth time he had done it. There are areas where your edges could have been stronger, or your stances straighter, but the intimacy you worked hard to portray with Shouto came naturally with him.

“You’re surprisingly good for a guy who insists ice dancing is beneath him”.

“Ice dance is equally advanced. Stop being dramatic,” he grumbles.

“Wow. Did that hurt to say? Kinda nice of you, actually”.

“Shut up”.

A wave of shocked murmurs bursts the bubble that had formed around the pair of you. Touya cranes his head, brow furrowed. Trepidation trickles in as you catch sight of a familiar dichromatic head. Shouto is here, leaning against the boards.

“Shouchan,” you push off to greet him with a tentative smile. His expression visibly gentles, a smile of his own coming to his eyes. “You look well. It’s good to see you up, but is it okay for you to be walking so soon?”

“Aizawa encouraged it. As long as I use the crutches,” he lifts one as proof, glancing around the rink. “You looked great together”.

It sends a surge of relief through your body, quieting the nagging part of your brain that always felt as if you were cheating on Shouto somehow. Touya is slower in his approach. He hunches over the sideboard and hums in that very cavalier, cool way that actually betrayed his piqued interest. “That’s sweet and all, but what’re you doing here?”

Shouto’s gaze drags to his older brother. Touya doesn’t appear perturbed by his inexpressive face, nor his stubborn silence. Mismatched eyes, azure surrounded by old scar tissue. His mothers face, her lips and the slope of her nose. They really are reflections of each other, in many ways.

“I need permission to come see my friends now?”

Touya’s nose flares and his jaw ticks in irritation. “I didn’t come empty handed,” Shouto continues. You hadn’t noticed the takeout bag held against his front until he offered it to you. “Have you eaten? I bought udon on the way”.

“I could eat,” Touya says.

You stretch across the boards to take the bag, “It’s my udon”.

His mouth thins as he cranes his chin, looking down his nose at you as he says, “Maybe it’s for me too”.

“Is not,” you stare stubbornly at Touya, shielding the food to your chest with one arm and side-hugging Shouto with the other. A warm puff of breath skims your collarbone as he laughs.

“Please don’t flirt in front of me”.

“You wouldn’t know flirting if it hit you over the head with a crowbar,” Touya deflects haughtily. “Whatever. Hand that over”.

You whirl past him to step off the ice, valiantly trying to keep the bag out of reach on principle. When you’re seated on the bleachers, Shouto to your left and Touya on the right, you unpack the contents and realise—to the latters smug satisfaction—that yes, Shouto had brought two containers of udon.

Shouto appears content to simply be there, chin propped on the handle of his crutch, watching you both eat with a small smile. The conversation is slow and pleasant as you eat, steering from genial small talk about the weather to sarcastic quips about your rinkmates.

You pinch your chopsticks around the thick noodles and inhale the tangy-sweet scent of oyster sauce, “Is Bakugo still peacocking around you?”

Bakugo Katsuki—another prodigal solo skater and unwilling friend—had been making a point of practicing quads whenever Shouto was around. While the intention might’ve been to gloat while Shouto is unable to skate, it instead came across like a hilariously aggressive mating dance.

“He’s not peacocking. He’s just…”

“Peacocking,” Touya repeats with feeling. “Admit it”.

Shouto’s mouth twists into a little self-effacing smirk. “What about the show—are the students excited? Eri-chan was, last I saw of her”.

“Don’t change the subject. But yeah,” you smile as memories sift through your thoughts. A mass of red, runny noses bundled up in sweaters and gloves, their bright eyes staring back with enthusiasm. “They’re really excited. It’s no national competition but—”

“It is to them,” Touya cuts in pointedly. The smile slips and you blink owlishly at him. “The show will be the deciding factor for a lot of them, if they want to keep skating or not. It’s equally as important”.

“I—I know,” you assure him, feeling a little ashamed for having made light of it, albeit unintentionally. “We’ve started on the rhythm elements,” you continue hesitantly as Touya acquiesces. “Picking the music has been a nightmare”.

“Their step sequences suck,” Touya interjects. You give him an incredulous look. Seemed his compassion ran dry quickly. “What? They do,” he argues, “Eri and Kota aren’t syncing. Every time she tries to skate closer the kid pulls away”.

“It isn’t a technical issue. They just… struggle to maintain their connection, before, during, and after an element is performed… is all”.

“That’s a problem,” Shouto says. “On the ice you’re one entity. It’s important to convey that feeling of unity”.

“Yes. Thank you, Shouto,” you sigh, choosing to ignore Touya’s muffled snort. “It’ll work out in the end. Kota just has a crush Eri-chan, so he’s being awkward”.

Shouto gives a noncommittal hum. “You two seem to do fine though”.

In that instant the weight of Touya’s gaze is intense. You close your eyes, suppressing the urge to put your head between your knees. An exasperated breath promptly swelled out to the limits of your ribcage. Sheer mortification. You glare at Shouto who merely tips his head, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in amusement, not in the least bit sorry.

“Well obviously. They’re children,” you clear your throat, ducking to concentrate on finishing your meal. “I miss Fuyumi. The men in your family are impossible”.

Neither Todoroki brother reacts. “Don’t lump poor Natsu in with us like that,” Shouto says coolly.

The hot takeout tray cradled in your arms does little to soothe the restlessness of your heart as Touya drapes along the back of the bench and smirks. He looks like he’s waiting for an odalisque to feed him grapes. Instead he shovels the last of his noodles into his mouth and sucks them through puckered lips. The strand flicks him on the nose.

“Our kids will do fine as well,” he says after swallowing. You temper a smile at the use of our, your embarrassment dissipating as Shouto’s comment is left unquestioned. He picks at the last of his food with his chopsticks, pinching and letting them go. “That Kota brat just needs to remember where to put his hands”.

“How about the costumes?”

“We don’t have music sorted yet. Now you want to talk about costumes?”

“Yes. I think you should wear glitter, Touya-nii”.

“Touya-nii,” Touya mocks with a distasteful scowl. “I can’t pull glitter off like you, Prince Shouto. Forget it”.

“An androgynous look would work well. You’re prettier than you think, Touya,” you cut in over their bickering. Touya baulks, flustered. “But we’re not in the ice show, so talking about it is pointless”.

“Well, the giftbox costumes are simple enough”.

“You’re making them wear boxes?” Shouto gives you both a flat look. Touya’s mouth pulls into a wicked grin.

“Only a few of them,” he shrugs. “The elves, Santa and his wife will need a little more detail—what the hell is his wife’s name, anyway?”

You tip back against the bench in thought. The soft hair on his forearm tickles your nape and you fight the urge to jerk away, not wanting to bring attention to the contact and subsequently lose it. “Depends on the adaptation I guess. Heard once that her name is Gertrude,” you reply.

“Gertrude?” Shouto echoes, his English stilted around the unfamiliar name.

“Shit. Guess that’s why she never uses it,” Touya grimaces, tucking the chopsticks inside the empty tray and wiping his mouth. “You done eating?”

Shouto, sensing the opportunity, rights his posture and asks, “Could we get a minute alone?”

You give Touya a once-over to gauge his reaction; outline his profile, trace the line of his cheekbone back to the pierced shell of his ear, glinting amongst his unruly white hair. When his eyes flicker to yours you scramble to look away. “I’ll go throw these out,” he replies, shoving the empty takeout containers back in the bag and getting to his feet. “You’ve got two”.

Purposeful silence hangs thick over the bench. “I actually came today to apologise,” Shouto murmurs once his older brother is a distance away. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you that I made up my mind. I knew you’d want me to give it more thought if I did”.

You hook your thumb into the cuff of your skate as you allow his apology to linger longer than necessary. Enough that he squirms a bit. “You get how bad that sounds, yeah?”

“I know. I didn’t want to hurt you but I didn’t want to be convinced otherwise either,” Shouto concedes, taking the seat beside you. A weight settles on your shoulder, slanting where he rests his head. His hair is silky against your cheek. “I wouldn’t be upset if you took another partner next season”.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to compete without you”.

“Well. You seem happy working with Touya. You two really do skate well together,” he wrinkles his nose then, “I always imagined you would. Especially after you told me you like him—”

“I was drunk—on whisky highballs!”

“—and wanted to work with him. You have that chance now”.

You sigh and rub your cheek against his crown. The smell of tea tree and mint fills your senses. “But what about you, Shouto?”

For a long, long time ice dancing had been the one thing Shouto picked for himself. His father wanted him to compete on the ice, but he hated doing it alone, and he hated carrying Enji’s legacy. Ice dance was, in many ways, a tool for Shouto to forge his own path with you alongside him.

“Skating has been my life for as long as I can remember. I’ve pushed people away. Declined dates. Forgotten birthdays. Missed holidays,” Shouto eventually replies. “These few months away have been… jarring. Like I came back to Earth and found out the world had been carrying on without me”.

The finality of it leaves a lump in your throat. You sniffle and indulge the urge to hug him. Shouto melts into your embrace, his hand splayed at your back. It is comfortable, comforting. When you part it’ll be as though you were walking on different sides of the same street. Not far, but a parting all the same.

Shouto leaned in and you found yourself mirroring the position reflexively. “Is it different?” he asks, hushed as if talking about something taboo. “Skating with Touya, I mean”.

Flashes of the past few weeks filter through your thoughts. Of warm, rough hands on your hips. Of his mouth by your ear. Of bodies intertwined, synergies flowing. You cover your face and sigh, “I feel like I’m going to develop cardiac arrhythmia”.

“It’s that good?”

“Don’t make it sound weird! And he’s coming back so—quiet”.

The understanding noise he makes does little to comfort you. Touya raises a brow at the smug look on his brother's face but generously, says nothing.

Shouto slinks away soon after the cold starts to agitate his injuries. Eventually you find yourselves on the ice together again. You run through yet another set of twizzles at Touya’s stroppy instruction, rotating on one foot with hard-earned grace. He mimics your attempt. He manages two before dropping his left leg.

“Remember to shift from ball to heel”.

“Fuck,” Touya hisses, his blade hitting the ice with a whip-like crack. You turn in place and raise a brow at his thunderous face. He was adamant about practicing step and turn sequences after a passing comment from Shouto about its difficulty.

“You keep positioning your other leg too far back. It throws your weight off,” he eyes your hands with suspicion as you get closer, poised to reach for him “Twizzles are hard. When I first attempted a double my body seized up and I fell. Bruised the entire right side of my ribs,” you admit sheepishly, hoping it would at least make his own failures seem smaller in comparison.

“It shouldn’t be this hard. I’ve been doing axels since I could walk,” Touya insists. He sounds almost hurt, and you stand to wonder if the only thing he inferred from your words was ‘you can’t do it’.

You understand his frustration. You are hardly a stranger to the desire to succeed. You know Touya, too; know how he built his entire life in pursuit of the summit. But while Touya has been striving toward his goal with renewed vigor, you've spent the past two months learning how it feels to desire in a whole new way—to want so badly that it hurts.

“Give yourself some grace,” you shake your head with an exasperated smile and you glide toward the boards. “You’ll get it down eventually”.

He remains in the centre of the rink and raises his voice as the distance yawns wider, “Yeah, yeah. I got it”.

“Are you staying longe—?” the call thrown over your shoulder as you step off the ice halts midway. The hem of Touya’s shirt has risen beneath the wide movement of his arms. You’re drawn to the swath of bare skin—physically unable to unglue your eyes from Touya’s lower back as he attempts another step sequence. You frown, having not noticed it before, "Is that KT tape?”

Touya had two bands of athletic tape parallel to each other on his back, the pale blue contrasted against his skin. “Sometimes. Increases my range of motion,” he reaches around to peel them off, then rolls the strips in his palm before shoving them in his sweatpant pocket. “Skin grafts messed with my flexibility. You know that”.

“I… do, yeah”. You did. Yet the information never stuck, because Touya always worked so hard you never would’ve thought he was suffering. “Ignore me, sorry. Are you staying behind, or?”

“Nah. Let me do another lap,” his voice reverberates around the rink, volume rippling with his continuous awkward rotations. “Go on. I’ll meet you out front and walk you to the bus”.

The light scrape of his skates remains inordinately loud now that everybody is gone. You drag a cloth over your blades before snapping on the guards and heading to the changing rooms. You take off your skates and do a few light stretches before washing up. The satisfying burn in your muscles dwindles as they relax and fatigue sets in; lately they’re so sore you’re sure they’ll slough off the bone.

After slipping into a clean pair of leggings and your loosest hoodie you hoist your sports bag up and cross the strap over your chest. Your phone vibrates with a notification from Nejire asking how you’ve been. You reply as you shrug on your bag and head out toward the entrance, stopping to duck into Aizawa’s office.

“Hey, Aizawa-sensei. We’ll be heading out no… oh,” you falter when you look up from the screen to find another skater seated across from Aizawa. “Hey, Midoriya! Sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I should’ve knocked”.

Izuku waves back and forth at your apology. “No, no! It’s okay I just came by to say hi,” he demurred, hand then fluttering to rub the back of his neck. He glances at Aizawa. “I’m just leaving, actually. Want to head out together?”

It’s a surprise to see him, though not an unpleasant one. You could’ve sworn he was away to partake in a skate exhibition. In that fraction of a second you wrack your mind for the date, the place, and when it clicks you try not to grimace. It had been over a week ago. The knowledge makes obvious what an absent friend you’ve been.

You smile softly, hoping he can see the apology in it. “Sure. I’d like that,” you tell him. “I’m actually meeting Touya at the reception. Just warning you”.

“Touya-san isn’t that bad,” his grin widens as he stands. Still boyish in a way he’ll probably never shed. You linger in the doorway while he bows to bid Aizawa goodbye and you wonder if he had even realised your lapse in memory.

Your eyes catch a flash of colour. His signature bright red skates are hooked on his backpack. They knock together when he walks. “So, tell me. How was the exhibition?” you playfully nudge his side as he falls in line with you. At the mention a stroke of pink spreads across his cheeks.

“It was really fun, and so different from competing. The choreography was amazing—and the lights. I couldn’t believe how coordinated everything was!” he rambles, brushing the mossy hair atop his head back and frowning when it flops back over his eyes.

You shove your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see it,” your fingers fiddle along the inner seams. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner, too”.

Izuku’s confused expression smooths into a familiar exasperated fondness. “You sound like Shouto. There’s nothing to be sorry for. I know you’ve been busy with Touya-san,” he teases, as though to remind you of that fact. “Ochako took a bunch of pictures. I’ll show you them next time I’m here, or—I can send them to you?”

“I’m still sorry. But thank you. I’d love to see them,” you concede to his kind insistence. Guided by a surge of affection for your friend you loop your arm through his and Izuku slows his stride. “So, gold medalist Midoriya Izuku, where are you heading off to next?”

The flush across his cheeks deepens, but he doesn’t appear flustered, and he doesn’t pull away. Izuku has long outgrown his childhood aversion to touch. You recall how wooden he once was, never knowing where to place his hands, how tight to squeeze or how long to linger. Now he takes it in his stride—actually, he’s something of a fiend for it.

“I’m meeting Kacchan. He actually picked this place,” he says, with just as gleeful as he had been while talking about the exhibition. You smile reflexively at the laughter jostling his shoulders, “It’s called ‘Mean Mug’!”

“Sounds like the perfect place for Bakugo”.

“Right?”

Interlinked, you pivot the next corner and wander into the open space. The receptionist desk is empty, as expected, and Touya is waiting by the entrance. What almost stops you in your tracks is the sight of Takami Keigo.

Touya’s eyes find yours across the threshold, pleading. They harden as they flicker to Izuku. He wrinkles his nose, ignoring whatever Keigo is saying, and Izuku tenses. You squeeze his forearm and try not to laugh. “What happened to ‘he’s not that bad’?” you ask under your breath.

“That was when we had one foot between us,” Izuku whispers. He raises his voice to greet the other men with surety as you close the distance, “Touya-san, Takami-san, it’s good to see you!”

“If it isn’t the wonder boy. You did well at the exhibition. The reviews were pouring in,” Keigo drawls, patting Izuku’s shoulder. The younger skater preens. Keigo’s attention turns to you. An amused smile stole over his features as he punctuated the syllables of your name, a flirty lilt to his tone. “You’re a sight for sore eyes”.

You unlatch your arm from Izuku’s and come to stand at Touya’s side. “Hawks,” you make reference to his stage name, equal parts amused and ruffled. “How’s the season going?”

A lazy smirk hangs on his lips. He rocks on his heels. “As expected. I was just tellin’ Touya I’ll be taking it easy until the NHK Trophy,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “But enough about me”.

“That’s a rare sentence,” you heard Touya mutter. You bite the inside of your cheek and elbow him in the side, hard.

“There’s a noticeable gap now that you and Shouto aren’t competing, y’know,” Keigo pats Touya’s shoulder, firm enough to not be shrugged off. “Are you planning on coming back, or are you stuck here with him now?”

“I’m perfectly happy where I am,” you answer, before Touya can interject with vitriol that’ll likely get you kicked out. He’s physically bristling at your side.

Keigo scrutinizes you for a second longer. “Blink if you need help,” he squints. You smile back, unblinking, and he releases a noise of surrender, hands held out palms up. “Alright, I’ll bite. I can’t stick around much longer. Midoriya, which way you headed?”

You’re too preoccupied with assessing Touya to eavesdrop on their friendly small talk. “Sorry I took so long,” you tell him. “Hope you didn’t suffer too badly”.

“I won’t forgive you,” Touya leans needlessly close to your ear. You tear at the fabric of your hoodie from the confines of the front pocket and suppress a shiver.

“Ah, lucky lucky! I’ll give you a ride,” you hear Keigo announce, leaving no room for rejection. Izuku deflates slightly, moreso in surrender than actual dismay. You offer him a sympathetic nod.

“We’ll see you retired lovebirds some other time,” Keigo throws out a two finger salute. Izuku motions to hug you, but as his gaze crosses Touya he decides to redirect the awkward flight path of his hand to your bicep and squeezes.

“It was really good seeing you again. Tell Shouto to text me—we can catch up,” he says, wearily glancing to your left. “I’ll see you!”

Keigo corrals him away with a distinct cackle.

“Lovebirds,” you echo dumbly. Touya’s presence moves away like the sun being blocked out. “Where are you—hey!”

The doors slide open to a street lined with camphor trees. Long shadows are cast across the concrete. Stepping into the crisp evening air, you can’t help but appreciate the apricity that kisses your face.

Touya walked onward, rubbed at his mottled cheek and stifled a yawn, arms stretching above his head. The faint bumps left where his skin grafts had been stitched together all those years ago pulled taut.

Stubbornly, you do not want to part ways yet.

“Y’know, the winter fair isn’t far from here,” you managed to say, scrambling for a reasonable excuse to prolong his departure. “They even put the little rink out with the fake penguins and everything this year. You wanna go?”

“Yeah. Great idea. Let's go and do what we do every single day,” Touya replies, with enough sarcasm that you have to look again and check whether he’s joking or annoyed. The tendon along his neck strains under his thin lipped smile. Annoyed, then.

“Just a thought. You don’t need to be such a dick about it,” you mumble, hearing how your voice goes tight despite your efforts. His jaw works in your periphery, like he’s trying to dig out the words he needs from between his teeth.

Touya sighs. The fight drains from him and in one swift motion he snatches your hand to thread your fingers together. Your palms kiss, clasped tight. You feel your heart kick in your chest. “Fucking—alright. Get that look off your face,” he conceded in an unexpectedly gentle voice. Your attention snaps toward him, but he has already schooled his expression back to resignation.

The winter fair is far from difficult to find. At the mouth is a narrow space covered by a canopy of twinkling lights, washing the darkening surroundings in a bright starlight glow. Stalls are lined either side, painted in shades of red and green, displaying various homemade crafts and street food. Your attention to the surroundings waned, returning again and again to Touya, sneaking furtive glances as he roved the market. You felt a surge of pride at the gleam in his eye, counting his ease as a small victory.

“Let’s get tamagoyaki,” you suggest excitedly. “Oh, or hot chocolate?”

“Are you twelve?”

You point at a display in the distance. What appears to be a rendition of a sentient mug of hot chocolate, topped with whip cream hair and marshmallows. In its cartoonish hand is a liquor bottle, “They can put rum in it”.

That earns his unspoken approval. Touya herds you toward the tinsel-covered stall in lieu of a response. Melodious Christmas music plays quietly overhead, and your breathless laughter is light enough to get lost in the smooth notes. He orders the drinks, and while you’re distracted by the hot takeout cup thrust into your hands, he pays too. Kind of like a date, your traitorous mind whispers. In a leisurely daze, you allow the crowd to guide you both deeper into the belly.

Touya’s defenses lower with every sip and appreciative hum, tongue loose enough to speak about the life he leads away from the rink. You find him easier to talk to like this, this softer, relaxed version of Touya, stripped of all tension, purpose and sharp edges. “I still can’t believe you actually know him, though”.

Touya rolls his eyes skyward, seeking patience, and you wonder how often he has to hear that line. “He’s just some guy,” he says. “And a pain in my ass”.

“He’s Shimura Nana’s grandson. The first woman to ever land a triple axel!”

“Old news,” he pinched his brow in a delicate mocking gesture. “You were all cosy with Mighty Yagi’s protege less than an hour ago but you’re excited about Tenko? He doesn’t even skate”.

Heat rushes to your face. “Midoriya is—I was not cosy! He’s Shouchan’s best friend,” you argue before clusmily amending your words, “Shouchan’s other best friend”.

“Right,” Touya snorts.

Wisps of steam roll over the rim as you sip. The spiked hot chocolate slides down the back of your throat, warming you from the inside out. You watch the bob of his throat as he tips his cup back and swallows. Discarding it in the nearby bin, he motions for you to do the same. “C’mon. You’re the one that wanted to skate more”.

“We don’t have to if you’re that bothered”.

“I’m not bothered. I just don’t get why you’d want to”.

Because it’s you. “It’s for the novelty of it!”

The bickering continues on your journey to the skating rink. You give it a once over, then a second take, discerning whether it is even made of ice. The surface is murky and scratched beyond recognition.

“Here. Good luck tying those things,” Touya deposits a pair of rental skates into your arms with an air of disdain before grabbing his own. “If I strain my ankle tonight I’ll kill you”.

“You’d miss me too much” you bump his shoulder to distract from your own racing heart. The corner of his eyes crinkle, betraying his harsh leer.

Cut-out frames have been fixed around the nearby benches, cardboard pillars have been wrapped in more fairy lights, giving the feel of an enclosed space. “Cute. Like our very own kiss and cry,” you say, bending to shove your feet into the skates and grumble when the tendon guard digs unnaturally into your calf.

“This is a cardboard box”.

You tighten your laces too tight after a spark of agitation. “Could you suspend your disbelief for five minutes?”

“No,” Touya rises and stomps to settle into his boots. He inclines his head toward the rink. “Let’s go,” and he gestures for you to take his hand again while looking elsewhere. You smile shyly and take it.

As suspected the ice is miles from ideal for skating—not that the general public would notice. You feel the difference the second your blade meets the surface and your instincts kick in. Simultaneously too soft and too rough. The thin indents catch as you glide ahead, fist enclosed to retain the sensation of Touya’s fingers.

You can sense his focused gaze on your lazy motions like kerosene and after a few laps he dashes ahead, following the parameter, a lithe slip of moonlight. It makes known an unwarranted hollow in your chest. There’s nothing to be wanted or missed and yet your arms felt empty, hungry. Pushing against your skates you strive to keep pace.

You wanted him to keep looking at you. To see an equal in you. You suppose that’s a quality you shared.

In your distraction you’d failed to notice the crowd gathering outside the rink. Awareness creeps the length of your spine. People are holding up their phones filming the pair of you and you’re hardly skating anything groundbreaking.

Touya relishes it.

“You’ve skated in front of tens of thousands of people but a few dozen spectators is what gets you scared?” he flashes a smarmy grin. His skates carry him closer. Rough hands take you by the hips, fingers kneading slowly towards the middle of your back, spreading outwards as if wanting to canvas more of you. The tiny hairs on your nape stand endwise as his voice deepens, “Wanna make it a show worth their while?”

You suck a sharp breath and your toe pick catches on the uneven surface, almost throwing you off balance. He steadies you, tips his head back and laughs.

You remain markedly clumsy as a pair, in a drawing outside of the lines sort of way. There’s no music yet at some point you fall into a familiar sequence and Touya fights to match you. It’s as though your inhibitors have been loosened; you often find yourself getting carried away with the routine. Any judge would think you were an over excited novice. But it’s exhilarating. It’s—fun. Fun in a way it hasn’t been in a long time.

Your bodies came flush together in a final grand movement. Close enough to mimic the rapid rise and fall of Touya’s chest as though it were your own. You spend a few scant moments staring at each other as you catch your breath. Taking in the atmosphere, the proximity you’d never been afforded until now. Blood has risen in Touya’s cheeks and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His eyes are full of a childlike excitement you haven’t seen in years.

“Did you mean what you said?”

You regain your bearings, “What?”

“About being happy with what you’re doing now,” he clarifies. Your mouth parts in soft surprise, and he grows tense in the seconds it takes to form an answer.

“Without Shouto I might never return to competing and I’ve mostly made peace with that reality,” the tightening in your chest made it clear just how true those words were. You smile then, “Helping you with the kids, it’s… I feel like I’ve won all there is to win. Is that stupid?”

Years ago you used to watch Touya skate and think there probably wasn’t a person in the world whose depth and intensity of feeling matched his loneliness. You would wonder how he survived it—

Above, the lights emphasise the shadows of his scars. Maps of lines, intricate furrows, beginnings and endings, tangible proof that he had changed and grown.

—you know now, having received your own fill, how he found himself surrounded by love with no idea how he came to acquire it.

“No. Maybe a little,” Touya answered. You think he’s the only man to exist that can make a leer appear fond.

A camera flash goes off. A couple dozen more.

“That’s probably not good,” you point out, though you’re struggling to find it within yourself to care. “They’ll have my name in Skatebuzz again. Aizawa will kill us”.

“I can see the headlines now. Prospective Olympian’s disgraced brother steals his partner away,” Touya’s vindictive mirth ghosts over your lips, fleeting and hesitant, “…can’t wait”.

Your blood sings, rising to the surface of your skin to meet him. You looked at him in such a way, like he couldn’t wait to—kiss you. A barely audible exhale asks, “What’re you doing?”

He slides a hand up the curve of your throat, thumb pressed to your pulse. “What does it look like?”

The restraint drains away.

You clutch at the front of his shirt as he sips at your mouth. It’s far too indulgent to be chaste, and when you pull away—barely an inch—to look at him, his eyes are already half lidded and watching you, close enough to count his lashes, pale as they fan over his cheeks.

A raucous applause thunders in your ears.

But the reverential murmur of your name is that much louder.

TO THE RINK AND BACK: TODOROKI TOUYA’S ROMANTIC RETURN? Skatebuzz - 13 December 20XX - 10:05

Todoroki Touya, once a favoured national champion, skates publicly for the first time since the career ending accident that left him permanently scarred. But he was not spotted alone. Lips locked with Todoroki Shouto’s former partner, the skating community are buzzing at the possibility of his return…

[three-penguins-in-a-trench-coat]

What if the villagers of Pelican Town know... everything?

When the Farmer arrives in town for the first time, and they begin to discover the secrets of the valley, what if the townspeople knew of it all?

They give vague omissions that they know a little of what goes on around them; The mines are to be avoided, the wizard deals with creatures outside of this world, something lives in our sewers, and so on and so forth.

But what if this isn't just them speculating, but specifically telling the farmer that they know. They know of the things that go bump in the night. They know why wails of terror and agony can be heard from the caves.

But as much as they want to be rid of the nightmares, they cannot move against them. They are cursed to know that they are surrounded by eldritch creatures that want them dead. And they can't do anything about it. They are stuck in a loop of nightmares and horror, cursed to never grow old, to never leave, to never change. They don't know how long they had been stuck there, it could be a year, it could have been a thousand, and it was all meaningless.

But then the Farmer arrives, wide-eyed and hopeful, ready to work.

Lewis is the first to notice that the Farmer is diffferent. When he gave them the tour of the old community centre, he pretended not to see the junimos, as he wouldn't want to scare them. He was quite surprised to see that the Farmer had noticed them too. Lewis dared not to hope, not yet. He simply waited. And then the Farmer donated the first bundle to the Junimos.

Somehow, the Farmer could do what they could not. They had the power to fight the terrors, to change.

Carefully, so as not to alert the Farmer to their doing, the townspeople slowly started guiding the farmer towards the magic. They hinted at secrets the Farmer would never be able to find. They made it just that little bit easier for the Farmer to make the world a better place. The progress was slow at first, but it started to build, faster and faster. The mines began to clear of monsters, and even the dreaded skull caverns began to empty. They were even able to bring a young child from the nearby islands back to their town, to give him a future.

For the first time in forever, the townspeople felt themselves free of the nightmares. Somehow, the farmer was able to break the loop. George and Evelyn quietly awaited the day they would return to yoba, and they knew it would come soon for they felt it in their soul. Everyone felt it. They were aging once more.

For a long time, life was beautiful. There were festivals, banquets, times of celebration and times of mourning. At one point, there was a wedding held in the town square. The Farmer was madly in love, and who could deny them their happiness? Production increased, and taxes were lowered. There was enough money for everyone to live comfortably and happily. But the Farmer wasn't done.

It took many years, but the work was finally complete. The farm was now a masterpiece of engineering, automated down to the feeding of the animals. And at the centre, standing as the highlight of the Farmer's accomplishments was a mighty golden clock. It was a grand thing, as if it were taken straight out of a fairy tale. They didn't know how it worked, but it seemed to have a stange effect upon them all. The townspeople didn't know how the Farmer had ended up in Stardew Valley, but they were thankful. They were thankful that they could break the curse that consumed them all.

It was many years later, and Penny was tutoring Vincent and Jas, when a strange thought fazed through her mind. She looked curiously down at the two children, who were happily reading away, and a faint sense of dread tugged at her. Dread she hadn't felt in a long time, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Later, she decided to take a walk to clear her head, try and figure out what was wrong.

By chance, she stumbled across the Farmer, who was fishing off the bridge by the beach. The Farmer looked at her, and smiled and waved, as they had a thousand times. But this time, she felt a jolt of fear pass through her body. It was still the Farmer, but... different. There was an evil presence inside of them, growing and festering like a tumor.

Shouldn't the children have grown up by now? Evelyn was well past a hundred years old. There was not a single wrinkle upon her; she was as youthful as the day she was trapped.

It was a slow realisation for everyone at first, but in time, they knew.

The Farmer was not the saviour they had hoped for. They were just another nightmare, and they were still stuck in the loop, forever cursed to play out the same actions forever.

[blackblooms]

So, didnt have a lot of progress to talk about on my new game since i had taken about 2-3 weeks to work on other things, but heres some of the work i`ve been putting into the world map and struckture.

So here we have what i call "zone maps" which consist of rough drawings of what areas are planned and how they are placed and connected. Since the game is themed around fire and wilderness, most areas are fiery twists on common fantasy environments and explore the many forms that heat and fire can take.

Some notable areas are:

Great caldera/Caldera outskirts: (dark red) Since flamebearers are highly resistant to heat and fire, it was an interesting subversion for the first area of the game to be a volcano. Boiling ridge/Boiling caverns: (cyan) The water area of the game, featuring harsh cliffside battered by a raging sea and plenty of geysers and thermal vents.

Pyrewoods: (bright red) A perpetually burning forest. The trees have adapted a thick insulating bark to protect themselves from the flame. Ashen highlands: (pale grey) An expansive plateau, located above the smoke of the forest. Deposits of ashes from the forest and caldera, fertilize the ground, making it a suitable place to build fields and villages. Sundered plains: (bright orange) A deadly desert, with plenty of glass structures formed from the scorching heat battering the sand.

City of cynders/Charred city (brown) The capital of an ancient civilization, burnt to the ground in times long past. Now only rubbles of sandstone and glass remains, and many myths of how exactly this city may have fell...

Frostburn pass: A gnarly canyon where frost and flame meet. Located between the great caldera and the ashen highlands. Brimstone bogs (dark green) ADark, smouldering swamps, where monstrous creatures lurk. A place long abandoned by the flamebearers and left to rot. Fuming crags (purple) Toxic fumes emanate from ancient fissures in the ground, rendering this region extremely dangerous to korugues and flamebearers alike. In the distance, an old castle lurk, long abandoned by those who used to call it home.

The melting pot: A loathsome pit of molten sludge, the heart of a twisted curse that cannot be destroyed or contained...

- Since were giving some building here, lets also describes some faraway lands that exist i nthe lore, but wont be seen in the game. South west: Nameless islands The great sea house many archipelago, conquered by the descendent of the flamebearer of the sea. South east: The frozen continent A distant landmass, overtaken by the ruthless cold. Ruled by the descendent of the frostbearer who could channel its power into cold instead of flames. North west: The endless peaks Towering mountains, reaching higher than the eye can see. Conquered long ago by the flamebearer of the sky and her children. North: Desolated expanse The sundered plains make way for a great wasteland. Long ago, the flamebearer of earth crossed through the desert and was rumored to have found habitable land on the other side, but very few dared cross the waste to verify those claims. East: The dark lands Lush forests cover the landscape, but those lands have long been forbidden. It is said that none of those who ventured to the east, not even the eldest and strongest son of the original flamebearer, was ever heard from again. My goal with these was that i wanted to imply a much bigger world beyond what is seen in the game (compared to irredeamable, almost claustrophobic worldbuilding) This next game will have plenty of distant lands and families to speculate on. I probably just wont do much with them myself. Anyway, all that stuff is subject to change as i work on it. The maps i provided are already pretty inaccurate, but that just means there will be much to discover when the actual game comes out.

[loupy-mongoose]

Lavender floated into the kitchen. She grimaced at the salty smell of eggs cooking. But she didn't let it ruin her mood from her night's fun. Morning Daddy~!

Randy turned to her in surprise before smiling. Morning Hon! Give me a minute to finish this, and I'll whip you up some pancakes.

Lav thought as she approached her dad. Y'know what? I'll make 'em, Daddy. Your eggs'll get cold!

Randy's brows raised. You sure? I can. I don't mind cold eggs.

Nah, I got this! I'm a big girl, and I've helped you so many times, I wanna try it myself! Now go enjoy your breakfast!

Randy smiled warmly and plated his meal. Alright, if you say so. Let me know if you need help.

Will do! She locked her fingers, stretched her arms in confident determination, and began prepping the materials.

By the time Lav was finished, Akoya and the twins had joined Randy at the table. They were chatting as she sat down with her first ever self-made pancakes.

Not bad, Lav.

Lav smiled. Thanks!

Akoya looked up from watching Momo munching on a bit of egg from her dad's plate. I suppose you're going to drown them in maple syrup as usual?

You kidding?? Lav grinned wide and held out a glowing hand, into which a container of maple syrup flew. That's the best part!

She poured the sweet syrup onto her slightly mishappen stack. Midas watched, enamored, so she dipped her finger into it and placed a small drop on the table for him.

After watching her little brother lick the table for a moment, she turned back to her drowning pancakes and cut a bite off.

I met with Nico again.

The jolt of fear she felt from her dad was unmistakable, and Lav fought the urge to flinch. Even after all this time, he still had some fear regarding Nico...

Akoya turned to her warmly. Lav couldn't tell if she'd felt her mate's fear or not. How was it? You seem like you had a good visit.

It was cool! He showed me a trick he practiced while we were away. He used his memories to show me some of the places where he lives. She couldn't hide the admiration and joy she was feeling all over again thinking about it. He showed me a little town in a forest and a gorgeous cavern with moonlight beaming in... It was awesome!

Her expression softened a little. ...But... I think he's lonely. He doesn't seem to have any friends other than Jovie... and me.

Akoya gave a slight smirk. He could learn a lot about friend-making from you, Lav. You're a master at it.

Well... She felt her face grow warm at the compliment. I guess... But... I wish I could help him in person.

She felt another wave of fear from her dad, and felt a little bad for bringing this up so soon after they'd come back from a long, arduous, ocean spanning trip.

If you want to try visiting him... w-we can make it happen... But it'll be a while before we're ready to do that.

Akoya looked uncertain. I think it would be best to wait until the twins are more self-sufficient. Maybe until both of them are flying.

Lav nodded, her eyes sparkling at the promise of it happening. I understand. Thanks, Mom, Dad.

Later, on her own, Lavender reflected on their breakfast conversation.

She could wait.

Waiting didn't really bother her.

What bothered her...

...was his fear...

What was he afraid of?

Did he know something she didn't? Or was it purely speculation based on scant information?

Was Nico really as dangerous as her dad thought he was?

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

I feel I should share my thinking on the timing of this arc.

My thought is that this arc started soon after they arrived back in Paldea, around August 20th. So, this falls in somewhere between August 20th--26th. I plan on doing a time-skip post at some point, so I wanted to bring that up beforehand. ^^

[dear-kumari]

Okay, topical Malevolent ep 44 reaction. Based on the wiki, it looks like the characters' choices to not return to the windmill and to get the witch's body were made by voting patrons, which further convinces me that the votes don't improve or even significantly change the story most of the time. Whenever Jorthur (yes, Jorthur) make a Patreon decision they usually have to justify it in-universe with a little debate, and besides just being kinda tedious, the justification often doesn't line up with the story's action. The patrons understandably wanted to explore the hallways over the windmill, which was justified in-universe by saying Arthur was too weak and injured to climb back there. But then the only interesting loot on offer is a piece of the witch, and once they chose that there's suddenly a big pool in the way and the world's most stabbed man suddenly has incredible lung capacity (I checked, he's underwater for 3:20 minutes and is yelling as they're launched out) and can swim with a metal breastplate on and cut through limbs once he's down there. He even conveniently brought all his shit with him despite the potential for water damage, so they didn't lose their inventory by being unexpectedly spat out. (John doesn't even sound like he's all that worried about him drowning either lol, though that's a separate issue of him being a slow horror podcast narrator first and an active character second.)

I understand why you would gamify a story loosely based on a role-playing campaign, but as someone who already doesn't get the appeal of listening to other people play TTRPGs, I struggle to imagine what the patrons get out of this (besides financially supporting a show they like, obvi). It's not really like a role-playing game because you don't control everything the protagonists do or have the context you need to make the best decisions (in this case, the characters know they dumped the witch in a deep pool, but the patrons probably didn't), nor is it really like a choose-your-own-adventure story because you don't get to try the alternate paths and everything will lead back to the author's planned narrative anyway. It's good for the story but presumably not much fun for the players that the author has an outline and an ending set in stone iirc.

Since someone could see this and go "well here's when the voting really worked for me," I did want to be fair and find an instance where the voting mechanism (probably) led to a good story choice. I like that the seemingly innocuous choice to ring the doorbell in ep 33 leads Arthur to realize that he fucked up several episodes prior by leaving his name at the hotel. That was a nice reveal, and maybe the lack of context actually made the vote more fun. It would have been revealed either way by Daniel being shot at the door, but ig Arthur stopping him before he opened it saved his life or something, idk. It feels pointless to speculate on when we're never going to see what happens if he knocks. Ultimately the difference between that and ep 44 to me, a non-patron, is just that Arthur fucking up by trying to be smart and realizing it at the last second is a good story beat, one with a clear line between cause and effect. Jorthur faffing about in the halls when they apparently could've just left through the windmill and then diving with armor on to mutilate a woman's corpse because the author is on a birth imagery kick is not.

Uhh other thoughts, I guess I am pretty glad they're finally out of the weird yonic caverns, even if I can tell that Jorthur entering civilization will lead to more ~historical liberties~ that will cause me actual pain. The voice acting is great as always. I like Yorick. I don't like that we're getting more dad!Arthur moments because come on. Also personally I would not have named the cute owl sidekick after the heavily implied CSA victim with no voice or agency from Oscar's grimdark edgyboy backstory, but that's just me

[outofangband]

I really loved @gwaedhannen ‘s post about wanting more strangeness in First Age Beleriand and I had a post awhile back about potential strange ecology for Middle Earth so I wanted to revisit it with some more thoughts!

Following up to my speculative biology ideas for elves,

Like the last list, these are more jotting down ideas, please please feel free to give me any to elaborate on!

Mammoths on the Helcaraxë and other cold reaches. Tolkien talks of all creatures that walk or have ever walked the earth existing in Valinor and throughout Arda hence prehistoric and extinct species can also exist here. I do also headcanon smaller herds of woolly mammoths and woolly rhinos in northern Hithlum and north of greater Beleriand. Stellar’s sea cows in the frozen waters:(

Early cenozoic aquatic birds such as Hesperornis off the coasts of Balar and Alqualondë.

 Enchanted orchards of Valinor; large, seemingly abandoned self containing gardens and orchards. There are fruit tree orchards hidden behind ivy covered walls; some always filled with Autumn breezes, citrus groves always kept warm and bright lined with lemon trees and deep green grass. Except for the Maia who tend them, the only beings who enter the orchards are elves who do so, usually by mistake.

There are places throughout Arda where the Music was not well, loud, enough. They can be the size of a footstep or a field and are not fully connected to the space time continuum. Those who tread on them will end up elsewhere in time or space and will never realize what had happened.

In the great expanses of unexplored Valinor, there are coves, glens, lagoons, and all sorts of other places that seem shift and change, being there one day and not the next. Even while walking through familiar, charted territory, there is always the possibility of ending up in a hidden clearing, covered in hanging mosses and with strange lights all around.

The forests of Beleriand are full of strange, sometimes dark creatures that have never been properly documented. They are the strange hybrids of Yavanna’s creations and Melkor’s corruption and a few have escaped the eyes of even the Ainur. 

The underground lakes of Middle Earth, especially around Angband contain blind, hungry beings, nourished by the volcanic soils. Strange fungi and lichen stick to the walls of the caverns and passageways beneath the fortress.

There are hot springs in several locations in Beleriand South of the Ered Wethrin (there are many in the Ered Wethrin of course but these are not exactly relaxation destinations). Namely in Himring, throughout Hithlum, north of Barad Eithel, parts of Dorthonion, in the caves of Androth, and parts of the Ered Luin. Not all of these are used by residents and not all maintain safe temperatures or conditions but some do! In many parts of Northern Beleriand, they're used for bathing and communal relaxation. There are other springs throughout the March of Maedhros and I like the idea of Himring being built around a hot spring. There are hot and warm springs in both Nargothrond and Menengroth. The definition of warm springs differs from hot springs only in average temperature

The caves of Menengroth and Nargothrond allow elves and others access to the strange wonders of the underground world of Middle Earth.  They are lit by lanterns and by certain bioluminescent plants. There are windows in key areas that allow sunlight to filter into some of the larger halls and though there are small gardens of species that do not require direct sunlight, some are stationed in the areas where sunlight filters in. A small tributary of the river Narog flows directly through one of the great halls of Nargothrond. Its flora and fauna remain untouched by the elves and algae and aquatic plants as well as small fish, salamanders in their early stages, and stranger creatures are visible to see for those who walk along it. 

In realms with Ainur or certain Eldar rule, natural life may not follow typical laws. Melian has great influence over the biodiversity and climate of Doriath for example even without meaning to.

The horror potential of the boundaries of the girdle or of Nan Elmoth. Time and space distorting, the forest becoming a maze, bird calls confusing and disorienting unwary or unlucky travelers

The Ered Gorgoroth, the eerie, mysterious mountain range, bordered to the north by Dorthonion and to the south by Nan Dungortheb. It was said the spawn of Ungolian haunted these mountains and the valley. I have some more posts on this but I've always imagined there being many pools and meres in Ered Gorgoroth, many harmless though frigid and some completely corrupted by the powers of Ungoliants spawn and other beings. Unfortunately, it’s not always possible to know which was which until it was too late.

Chemical reactions causing glimmering or colorful water. Elves learn carefully when this has occurred due to natural phenomena and when it is the result of unnatural influence or Ainur presence.

Salt lakes and landlocked waters mimicking ocean conditions. I’ve always imagined there being a lake like lake Baikal in the March of Maedhros

More Bioluminescence

The realms draped in dragon reek especially around Nargothrond. The pools of Ivrin are ruined by Glaurung and they are the source of the river Narog, the largest tributary to Sirion. The entire land could be poisoned. I imagine that plants wither or lose color, birds and frogs stay silent, animals are thrown off of their natural cycles, The orchards in the hills barren or producing foul fruit, strange happenings resulting from drinking from the river Narog or even eating animals that drank from it…

Alternatively the effects of the water where the power of Ulmo is still strong such as in Nan Tathren or the Twilit Meres

[loki-valeska]

Medli headcanon

I JUST REALIZED I NEVER TALKED ABOUT THIS HERE So anyway: I've had the hc that Medli is a weak flyer for a while now. Mostly due to how she has a stamina meter while the rest of the Rito can fly for much longer. And I think there's dialogue in Wind Waker to support this a bit.

This dialogue is given to Link before getting the Grappling Hook, wherein Medli states she used the Grappling Hook to climb the mountain, and that Rito used them before evolving to have wings.

We know Medli already has her wings by this point bc she uses them to get into the cavern with Link's help. I also wanna point out how she needs Link's help here to even get in the air. One could very well argue it's bc of the wind currents, which is what Medli says in game. But adding to how she needs the Grappling Hook throughout the Dungeon despite there being no wind that we can see on our trek, and already having wings to fly with is interesting to me. Why would she need to use that if she could just fly there?

"But Loki!" You're probably saying; "She only got her wings recently! She's probably just not skilled enough with them yet."

And to that, I need to point out:

Komali got his wings very recently, sometime after Medli did, and yet he flew all the way from Dragon Roost Island, to the Forsaken Fortress, to the Tower of the God's with Tetra in tow, and then back to Dragon Roost without us ever seeing him stop for any reason. The ocean in Wind Waker is massive, so flying that long on relatively new wings, is by no means a small feat. We also just see him flying around in the air during certain cutscenes. Something we never see Medli do. You could argue being the Chief's son makes him better at flying or something, but there's nothing in game to suggest that so it's entirely speculation.

When you go to the Earth Temple you have the option to control Medli and fly around without needing a jumpstart from Link. During this part of the game, she can only fly for about 10 seconds before getting tired. (Ik that this is only there to balance gameplay and whatever but let me whimsical and have hcs dammit/j) Sidebar:

This has nothing to do with anything but her having confidence issues breaks my heart, poor girl 😭😭😭 She's constantly asking if it's okay for her to suggest things and apologizing if her trying to help is annoying. YOU'RE NOT ANNOYING ME PLEASE I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS, YOU HAVE GOOD IDEAS

Anyway, sidebar over

I also wanna point out that at the end of the game we see Komali and Medli again and while Komali greets you while flying, Medli is standing on the deck of Tetra's ship. We never really see Medli fly for long amounts of time. The only times we see her fly it's explicitly stated somehow that she can't do it for long. Whereas other Rito, like Komali and Quill, seem to be able to fly for indefinite amounts of time, with little to no issue.

I thought it was kinda cool how a lot of things seem to point to her having some kind of disability that leads to her being unable to fly for very long. I'm definitely gonna make this a part of my AU, bc I really like it. That's kinda all my thoughts on this for now. Now to get back to drawing.

[elancholia]

Nothing ever happens

Culture has always been shit

Recently, I have been forced to wonder which Sam Kriss bit or bits will end up being repeated as fact by mainstream publications and whether or not this has happened already. When will he first make it onto Wikipedia? Or, rather, how much of Wikipedia is already, directly or indirectly, his work? What about the textbooks? How much of what we know of history was fabricated within the last decade by a lone blogger with a Borgesian sense of humour and a talent for plausibility?

But why not go further? In his commentary on Herodotus, now mostly lost, the Hellenistic philosopher Ephictitus of Kos speculated that all events conventionally regarded as historical were fundamentally mythological, a sort of mad reverse Euhemerism which subsumed all memory of the human past into commentaries on present-day neuroses and inner psychological archetypes. Herodotus, if indeed there had been such a person, was only engaged in the tradition of externalising the internal which had generated all culture since the beginning of time. To Ephictitus, there was no past: only the bit. But why?

Anthropologists have long speculated on the origins of the cannibalism taboo. Currently, their most favoured explanations revolve around the transmission of pathogens. When we consume the flesh of animals, we are exposed only to foreign sicknesses — diseases optimised to fell cows and deer and fish. When we consume each other's products, there is no such obstacle. Humans believe falsehoods because falsehoods, unlike reality, unlike even the real nature of human-created events, are adapted to the environment of the human mind. After all, they were born of it, squeezed out from its dark and twisting caverns.

Ephictitus, though he could not have expressed it as we do, understood this. He named the literary effluent of this endless, voracious, self-devouring cultural ferment ὁ πυλών τῆς σκωρίας: "the pillar of excrement".

To this, the modern world has given another name: shitposting.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

opinions on erivris? (canon + potential)

Friendship! This one's a bit weird to answer because I personally feel like canon pretty much shows us what's up with their relationship, but I can still talk about it!

So we know that Vriska initially got Mindfang's journal from following a meteor she saw shortly after leaving the caverns. This journal eventually led her to a ghost ship, where she found the Flourite Octet during a roleplaying campaign. Eridan mentions getting his crosshairs from a ghost ship too, implying that the two found it together while FLARPing. Since Vriska was explicitly led there by the writings of her ancestor, and she always wished to be like Mindfang, and Eridan also believes that his inheritance of the gun was a sign that he was meant to follow in his ancestor's footsteps/finish their unfinished business, it's heavily implied that the two's kismesistude was largely the result of both of them feeling obligated to pick things up where their ancestors left off.

Now, Karkat's speculated before about Vriska's fucked-up psyche from all the murders. I'll probably just post that, because, to be honest, I trust Karkat's opinion:

CG: OK, MOST PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T HAD THEIR LOBE STEM CAUTERIZED ARE CAPABLE OF FEELING THE TWO PRIMARY EMOTIONS, HATE AND PITY. CG: PITY IS OF COURSE JUST THE TONED DOWN VERSION OF THE CENTRAL EMOTION, HATE. CG: AND ALL THE NUANCES OF PITY MANIFEST AS VARIOUS OTHER KINDS OF FEELINGS LIKE WHATEVER CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FONDESS OR THE MYSTERIOUS FORCES THAT ARE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE. ... CG: A WELL BALANCED PERSON IS IS GOING TO HAVE A GOOD DISTRIBUTION BETWEEN HATE AND THE VARIOUS PITY HUMORS. CG: HAVING A GOOD BALANCE KEEPS ALL THE EMOTIONS SHARPER, SEE I THINK THAT'S YOUR PROBLEM. ... CG: BUT SEE, YOU'RE TOO HEAVY ON THE HATE SIDE, OR AT LEAST YOU PRETEND TO BE WHICH IS MAYBE WORSE. ... CG: AND YOU THINK YOU'RE HATING UP EVERYONE HARD WHEN YOU'RE REALLY JUST BURNING OUT THAT ENTIRE EMOTIONAL HEMISPHERE. CG: IT'S LIKE LUKEWARM HATE. PRETENDER'S HATE, WITH NO COUNTERPOINT AT ALL. CG: AS SUCH THERE'S NO REAL SUBSTANCE TO YOUR HATE, IT'S LIKE A CARDBOARD MOVIE PROP. CG: WHICH IS WHY YOUR BRAIN IS BROKEN, KIND OF LIKE TAVROS'S BUT ON THE OPPOSITE HEMISPHERE I GUESS. CG: OR MAYBE YOUR BROKEN BRAIN LED TO THE IMBALANCE IN THE FIRST PLACE, I DON'T KNOW. CG: WHATEVER THE CASE IS, YOU'RE KIND OF EMOTIONALLY SCREWED, SORRY TO SAY. CG: YOUR HATE'S TOO DULL FOR A PROPER KISMESIS, IN MY OPINION. CG: AND I DON'T SEE ANYONE CHOMPING AT THE BIT TO BE YOUR MOIRAIL HONESTLY, UNLESS THERE'S SOMEONE OUT THERE WHO WOULD ACTUALLY BOTHER PITYING YOU. CG: AND LANDING A MATESPRIT? HAHAHAHA! CG: SERIOUSLY, LIKE THAT WOULD EVEN INTEREST YOU. CG: BASICALLY ANY FEATURE OF YOUR EMOTIONAL PROFILE THAT USUALLY MAKES SOMEONE VIABLE IN THE REDROM DEPARTMENT MUST BE TOTALLY FRIED. CG: YOUR BLACKROM POTENTIAL'S PROBABLY TOAST TOO.

So basically, what Karkat is saying is that Vriska's a sloppy mess. Because of her personal suite of issues, caused by a demanding and "intense" "sym8iotic" relationship with her lusis and all the child murders she's had to do (many thousands), she functionally doesn't have enough emotional effort to muster up for pretty much anybody.

And this all makes sense, because Vriska's entire suite of problems stems from having to be tough as nails and justifying her actions. No weakness, no kindness, no mercy, no pity. And since she's closing herself off from the rest of her emotions, all she has left is a "dull" hate, insufficient for a proper kismesistude. Frankly, according to Karkat, she just can't hate anybody hard enough.

Now, Vriska and Eridan have a lot of parallels, between their ancestors' shared history and the similar demands made by the lusii in their lives. However, Vriska is far more successful at fitting into the highblood mold; since she's better at closing herself off from feelings of guilt or pity, and - Team Charge debacle nonwithstanding - capable of forming and maintaining friendly relations, if not friendship, with other trolls (Equius, Kanaya).

In contrast, because the two kind of serve as foils for each other, Eridan is really bad at managing his feelings. Between expressing guilt about the kid he just orphaned:

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

And the fact that he's generally known for his "exaggerated emotional theatrics," which generally stem from genuine deep-seated anxieties he holds towards his position in society and the weight of a seemingly inescapable future (check out my Eridan essay for more), I think it's safe to say that he kind of represents the opposite of Vriska's personal suite of issues: where she closes herself off from her feelings too much, and is thus constantly projecting an air of being tough and mean and scary, Eridan expresses his emotions too much, and is thus seen as cringe and overbearing and attention-seeking.

And this equal-but-opposites kind of thing crops up in other facets of their life - Vriska's murders are motivated primarily by self-preservation, as her lusus dying means she dies, too; meanwhile, Eridan's murders carry with them the survival of the entire species, as well as his friends specifically. Vriska's lusus is described as intensely demanding, and their relationship symbiotic (read: codependent); Eridan's is described (by proxy, via Cronus's lusus) as "stern and fatherly," with an implication that he's provides pretty much no emotional support whatsoever (which I expand upon here).

So, if Vriska's relationship problems are caused by the fact that she's so removed from her own feelings that she has no emotional effort to spare, then it stands to reason - and indeed seems to be the case - that Eridan's emotional problems are that he's far too emotional, and thus, going in too hard, and in too messy a direction, no matter who he's attempting to pursue. (Nepeta calls his flushed advances "cr33py and insincere," Kanaya finds his ashen advances "indecent," and Equius expresses feeling uncomfortable with his flirting.)

Indeed, Eridan strikes up flirting astonishingly quickly, as seen when he shares only a few words with Rose before asking if she wants to go pitch with him. There's several factors involved here.

The first is that his emotions run fever-hot at all times, to the point that he has difficulty parsing both their origins and their aims; if you asked him point-blank if he was really in love/hate with whomever he was flirting with, he would answer you with a firm "yes," even if it's obvious to everyone around him that he probably isn't.

The second is that he's desperately lonely, and likely sees a relationship as a form of alleviation from that loneliness, so he's over-eager to get into one. A romantic partner isn't supposed to leave you alone, after all, and we can see from Vriska accidentally ghosting him to mercy kill her lusus that he tends to assume people ignore him on purpose. Because he has anxiety. The boy just craves attention.

And finally, establishing a relationship, especially a pitch one, is tied up in his general problems regarding duty and obligation. Not only is there pressure from the empire to fill both concupiscent quadrants by adulthood, but Dualscar had a kismesis, so Eridan ought to have one, too. We see from the way he treats killing angels as a duty he has to undertake, the same as killing lusii, that he has great difficulty divorcing his current situation from the anxiety that motivates him to complete his work, so it's likely that he's still moving according to this feeling that he "has to" fill these quadrants or else Something Bad Will Happen.

And, with Vriska specifically, here's the thing - there's never a point where he genuinely describes hatred for her. The most we get is him using some colorful slurs to describe her to Kanaya, but he never goes into specifics, like "I hate her for X". So the question that all of this begs is, did Eridan ever hate Vriska at all?

And the answer is probably no. Personally, I don't think their kismesistude was ever really serious, nor did they ever actually hate each other. Both of them, feeling obligated by their bloodlines, entered into the kismesistude on the grounds that it was their duty, an obligation, and at some point, Vriska realized she wasn't really into it, and Eridan got the rejection through his thick, woeful skull. Their interaction in [S] Past Karkat: Wake up. pretty much says it all.

VRISKA: Hey. ERIDAN: hey VRISKA: So........ ERIDAN: wwhats up VRISKA: Nothing. VRISKA: Standing by the old horn pile I see. ERIDAN: yup VRISKA: Yeah........ VRISKA: Ok then. Carry on I guess. ERIDAN: god damn vvris wwhys it still got to be so flippin awwkwward like this come on ERIDAN: wwe used to havve a good thing goin remember our campaigns ERIDAN: that shit wwas epic wwhere are you evven goin to find a rivvalry like that VRISKA: It was fun, Eridan. While it lasted. VRISKA: 8ut it ran its course! I don't know what else to tell you. ERIDAN: oh as if im not so ovver it please spare me your disdain mindfang ERIDAN: im wworkin on findin a neww rivvalry wwhichll make ours look like a kiddie game ERIDAN: wwhich oh by the wway IT WWAS VRISKA: If you say so, Dualscar! 8est of luck with that. VRISKA: Too 8ad the luck's all mine now! Hahahaha.

To paraphrase:

-Awkward foot shuffling- ERIDAN: I really enjoyed what we had, when you paid attention to me. Are you sure you don't want to go back to that? VRISKA: I guess it was fun, but I'm not interested, like I've told you a bajillion times already. ERIDAN: Yeah, I know, I just figured I'd ask. ALSO I'M TOTALLY EMOTIONALLY FINE AND NOT SAD AT ALL BECAUSE SADNESS IS WEAKNESS AND I'M NOT WEAK, SEE? I CAN BANTER. I'M NORMAL ABOUT THIS. I'M TOTALLY OVER YOU. VRISKA: Hahaha. Yikes. Good luck, dude. Genuinely no hard feelings on my end.

And there really aren't hard feelings. Before the retcon, Vriska mentions on the ghost pirate ship that she wishes Eridan was there; post-retcon, she's the one who's willing to go to bat for him a little when she and Terezi are discussing who to bring back with their extra kernelsprites. Eridan is doing his usual thing of "well, I've accepted their rejection... but am open to them changing their minds, crazier things have happened" thing with her, but that DOES mean that he has accepted the rejection. (More about the way he handles rejection and flirting here.)

So pitch is toast for them; they've been there, done that, and probably never even hated each other in the first place. On the other quadrants:

The thing with pale is that it's about keeping each other calm. Given that Eridan seems to puff up whenever Vriska is involved - because, even if he never hated her, the fact that she could do the Highblood Thing more naturally than he could probably fuels his general insecurities about his inability to meet that ideal - I don't think it would be successful on that count alone. Even without that, I highly doubt Eridan would be capable of reining Vriska in, nor would he even particularly care to (and vice versa) - the two of them both struggle with empathy for other people.

Flushed is, hmmm... well, the thing is, both of them have been shown having flushed tastes of "nice" - Vriska's weird vascillatory thing with Tavros, and then her fond feelings for John, and Eridan's interest in an idealized version of Feferi. In fact, Karkat outright says he thinks Tavros is broken in such a way that he doesn't feel hatred for anybody, and Eridan says to Feferi that he thinks she's too nice to hate anybody; whether or not that's true, we can extrapolate that the two of them tend to be interested in people who are just really really nice. And unfortunately, the two of them are not particularly nice at all.

So personally, I think the best possible ending for these two is friendship. The incompatible aspects of their personalities - Eridan's desperate need for attention and emotional support, and Vriska's difficulty with providing it - wouldn't be a problem in a casual friendship, and they clearly hold each other in fairly positive regard. For their own sakes, I don't think they should be in too much contact - Eridan is painfully sincere and emotional even at his best, and Vriska is tough and badass even at her best, and I think she'd wind up hurting him, and he'd wind up exhausting her - but as, like, casual buddies that see a movie with each other or do extreme sports or something every so often? Not bad!

[criticalglitch]

Just some speculated background on how Kar'Niss came under the Absolute's control.

We followed our Queen deep into the earth, into the comfort of darkness. We wove our patterns in the stone, and from death came life. In decay, we cultivated our ecology, in adversity, we honed our fortitude. We are the terror of the deep. We are the fear of the dark. Let those who trespass upon our sacred homes know – we cut our teeth on the rocks of the Underdark.

Magic hadn’t come as naturally to Kar’niss as it had to his brothers. It was a shame of his, and he prayed fervently that his talent would blossom, that his dedication to his studies would bear fruit. He was, after all, frail, unfit to prove his worth as a warrior. Should he be unable to prove himself productive, he would shame his house – and likely invite the Spider Queen’s disfavor upon his family.

What he lacked in raw talent, however, he made up for in perserverance, and he had it in spades. He was far more fervently adherent to Lolth’s handmaidens than many other males in the city. He did what he could to please the matron of his House, and he bartered for his failures in sorcery with exceptional devotion. Even the Matron, a cool, calculating thing, had difficulty finding fault with her youngest son, despite his shortcomings. It was a refreshing change of pace from the arrogance his three brothers exhibited, and she found his humility rewarding.

He found his humility rewarded.

His supplication had culminated in an ultimate redemption – the chance to bring an enormous honor to his house, to be gifted power from the mouth of the Spider Queen herself. He would stand before the handmaidens, provided with a transformation that marked those holiest to the Dark Seldarine. It lasted agonizing turns of the moon. It fractured and rebuilt him, sinew by sinew, flesh tearing and sewing together and apart, hardening into chittering chitonous plates. His body swelled and ruptured, giving way to a segmented arachnid form, and razored legs. His eyes erupted like cancerous growths upon a once delicate cheekbone, the experience leaving him fractured, and afraid.

Fear was as pure a state as Lolth could possibly reduce her children to. The refined, raw, magmatic ore that could be woven into any shape or form desired. Fear was a hot, but malleable thing, and if there were any tenets of the Spider Queen’s disorganized faith, they were obedience and fear.

Little did Lolth know, that by smashing Kar’niss into the one mold, she would make him brittle, and break him of his ability to form the other.

When the Absolute descended, and swept the last of the Baenre line away from the caverns of home, it found the other broken things – Lolth was correct in that fear and terror were easy to manipulate. And that fervent, zealous devotion Kar’niss once bore for his House and his Goddess – that terror was redirected into a cloying love of a new Queen, a new goddess. An utter obsession with the Absolute.

[gold-rhine]

fontaine SPOILERS for like, everything released so far and speculations. I have a couple of theories on who Arlecchino might be. So, we know she's from Fontaine and she's old, she was making fun of childe for being a baby. She wants to stop the prophesy of fontaine ppl dissolving into water. She runs an orphanage, where kids later are recruited into fatui

this all, but esp orphanage and dissolving theme, I think v strongly connects her to Narzissenkreuz Institute from 500 years ago. It was an orphanage, from where all major players connected to dissolution in primordial waters came from. I think there is 2 options for who she might be:

1.Mary-Ann Guillotin. She was a sister of Alain Guillotin and an orphan herself. She was described as acting as older sister of the group in orphanage despite her being the youngest. She was recruited into Marechaussee Hunter along with her brother when she grew up, which is basically fontaine's secret service, which i think is very fitting. She ended up hunting her former friends from the Institute, Rene and Jakob, who at this time created a secret organization Narzissenkreuz Ordo and were planning to save fontaine by dissolving ppl into hivemind in primordial water. Same shit Arlecchino wants to stop. She presumably died in confrontation with them, after a huge explosion.

BUT it happened inside of Elynas, an abyssal dragon, and Elynas works basically by bloodborne gods rules. From contact with him any wild shit can happen. Like, as the result of same explosion the race of Melusines were created from Elynas' wounds, seemingly for no reason. He has dream dimension inside. He died, but his consciousness can still talk and act. There are portals into abyss all over him. So, there are countless ways she could've been teleported somewhere, warped, corrupted, etc.

Like, despite her being dead, both of fontaine world quests (the baby oceanid and the mechanical dog ones) end on strong message of "finding Mary-Ann." in fact, they converge together into this, and its basically spelled out they will be continued.

Also, in Marechaussee Hunter set we have this from Karl Ingold, adopted father of Jakob and Rene, reminiscing about past "And afterwards, the cries, sounds of fracturing and metallic clashes that sounded faintly from beyond the stone floor. And as he recalled the girl who used a "trick" to forcibly shift herself into a dark, safe cavern. Only then did the regret of not having recorded her final battle engulf his vision." - ok so, Elynas says there were many metallic animals in that fateful confrontation, so both "cavern" (Elynas is full of caverns and fight was inside of him) and "metallic clashes" AND "her final battle" point that it's about that explosion in which Mary Ann supposedly died. But he also says that "girl" used "trick" to hide in a cavern! Like who else it could be about if not Mary Ann. She fits 100% to the descriptions, we don't have other fontaine girls fighting their final battles in caverns, and with metallic clashes around. So she escaped, hid in "safe" cavern, but again, its a cavern inside of eldritch abyssal god monster. It could v easily warp her into whatever the fuck is wrong with her rn and make her immortal (Jakob who consumed Elynas' flesh is immortal, so that's provably smth connection to Elynas can do.)

2.My second option is Basil Elton, Vice Director of Narzissenkreuz Istitute. She was a former naval commander who retired and helped run the orphanage, but then during cataclysm left to fight monsters and presumably died in a fight that killed Elynas. BUT Basil Elton was H.P. Lovecraft's character, a captain of the ship who could visit Dreamlands. So, she might not be dead, but like teleported to abyss.

I think Mary-Ann is a better option, bc its more narratively satisfying to have a fight between former close friends (Mary Ann and Jakob, abyss Baptist who is still around doing some Schemes), and also like their confrontation would rhyme with a battle in Elynas where she presumably died, her stopping his plot of dissolution after so many years. but idk, we'll see

[painless-innit-colourful]

deep green dashboard simulator for the weekend lore of the 27th Jan (for @thatfriendlyanon :) [all art is by @rozugold :)]

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

it's so funny that the papers actually worked really well and looked convincingly scary on elle's stream because over on crim's it was sweating and switching out items in the most corny way

#like bestie i'm glad it worked on the other end because it looked so bad on ours XD #tdg

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

bird song being in the deeply weird playlist makes me very, VERY nervous now, just saying

#katy talks #the deep green

🪽 waxelytra Follow

new Sisyphus skin (black bars are not intentional)

🪨 sisyfish Follow

can we talk about how sneaky the switch was?? even watching their face cam I had NO IDEA that was coming

#especially with the nightmare they were apparently having lmao #get it crim the show must go on #the deep green

🍄 thereisafungus Follow

crim's on-camera acting makes me yell, what do you mean they keep looking at their palm or touching their hand when they're nervous, you can't do this to me

#tdg #crim sisyphus #CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME

🟩 homeiswheretheglowberriesgrow

being a crim-only viewer is so funny 'cause the mutuals have been talking about kore's backstory clues for literally months and sisyphus has only stumbled onto that story today because icarus literally dragged them into looking at it

because they've spent the best part of the last three months in a CAVE

🌺 bringerofhorses Follow

become a rozu viewer, see the sun

🪨 sisyfish Follow

I rather like this cave actually

🟩 homeiswheretheglowberriesgrow

I didn't know Sisyphus had a tumblr

🌱 thedeepestgreenestplace Follow

you can't trust a single thing I say

#tdg #crim sisyphus #elle icarus #my art #tdg fanart #they..........

🪨 sisyfish Follow

can we STOP with the baseless accusations that the massacre was planned AGAIN PLEASE. everyone on the server has stated multiple times that it was an accident by crim and then plot from it started there. it was not pre-planned. this comes up every time there's major lore and I'm so sick of it

🌱lussssshcave Follow

I'm also sick of seeing ppl speculate crim did it intentionally. look at their face in that moment

yes they're a good actor, but this is clearly the face of someone who's just made a huge mistake

🪨 sisyfish Follow

it honestly makes my blood boil that anyone would suggest crim would do something like that for content. grow up

#they literally have asked what buildings and things they can destroy in lore and respected that #stop starting stupid drama based on nothing #massacre discourse #tdg neg

🪴bloomingstrangely

all I'm saying is, it looks like blood…

#tdg fanart #crim sisyphus #elle icarus #tdg

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, icarus has teleported into the cavern!

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, grond has teleported into the cavern (and they have both been killed in there)

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, the marking has appeared! it's horrifying

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, sisyphus has told grond about the cavern

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, sisyphus has confessed to burning the trees! (accidentally :/)

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, they are looking at the other kore lore book

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

ladies and gentlemen, icarus & sisyphus are in the cavern together!

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

so, uh. a lot happened today

#i did not anticipate it going this far #tdg

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

everytime crim shares secrets with jason before elle I want to throttle them. in the good way

🍂waydownunderthe Follow

I could fix them, but whatever it is they're currently doing is far more interesting

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

letter from thalia saying "forgive yourself", marking on face looks like blood, sisyphus almost told icarus the truth about the cavern but decided against it last second, there are papers appearing in sisyphus' house that say "you know what you did", sisyphus keeps muttering "why won't it work?" in the cavern??

GANG I DON'T LIKE THIS

#the deep green

🟩 homeiswheretheglowberriesgrow

"I thought you were good" / "I already ruined everything" / "the only option is to do whatever it takes to protect yourself and the ones you love"

crim's saying something very interesting here about sisyphus' internal philosophy but I can't quite work out what it is

#where is this Going #tdg

🪻theshallowgreen Follow

every time icarus reaches out and sisyphus pulls away I want to scream

#they make me ILL

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

NEW PLAYLIST ALERT

#glad to see someone's as mentally ill about them as we are #also whooo official duo name!! #the deep green

🕊️ ica-whoops Follow

we already have a stream confirmed for next saturday, icarus hasn't come back to check on the papers situation yet, rozu is confirmed to be coming on, crim said last night 'it will get worse before it gets better'

#the deep green #lord help us all

🌵 thegreatcactushunt Follow

nice

#tdg

🪨 sisyfish Follow

sisyphus shoring up the alliance with grond the other night

#i love these two they're absolutely as bad as each other #politics duo ftw #tdg

🪽 waxelytra Follow

elle admitting she wasn't nessecarily thinking in character for the your obedient servant situation is so funny like. this stuff always happens in rp and it's so hard to work around later but it's made worse by crim's inability to take any situation lightly ever

#calm down always in character give her a break i BEG #the deep green

🪴bloomingstrangely

anxious bird & wet cat

🪴bloomingstrangely

WAIT CAT AND BIRD HMM

#this is not a manifesting moment apollo dni #someone pointed it out in the tags and i wanted to yell #tdg

[deimos-awaits]

Regarding the Irongsong Chapter Homeworld of Astraea

“Astraea is a world of extremes. It is divided down the middle by the remnants of extreme tectonic activity that has resulted in vast mountain ranges down the planet's prime meridian that pierce the atmosphere. According to the Mechanicus’s Geophysical Survey all tectonic activity of that magnitude has long since ceased. The mountain range created by this survey, named the Emperor's Spine by locals, is made out of solid granite. This has resulted in an interesting quirk that Astraea has for all practical purposes two separate atmospheres as no gas can pass between the two sides. It also means that any travel between the two either needs to occur through carefully sealed and regulated tunnel systems in the mountains or short range extratmospheric travel.

The Ironsong Chapter and previous planetary governors have long made use of this advantageous difference in atmosphere to diversify the planet's activities between that a typical administrum scribe might otherwise assign a planet of roughly the same size as Holy Terra.

The two halves of the Astraea each have a vastly different economic base, now given a nickname by local inhabitants after part of the Ironsong Chapter name. The Iron half of Astraea is a virtual forgeworld, filled to the brim with the industrial ordered base that produces much of the raw materials needed to support the heavy mechanization focus of the Ironsong Chapter as well as the Song section of the planet. It is hard to breathe on this half of the planet without a respirator or long adaptation through time living in the toxic smog. The main administrative hub of this half of the planet is a hive settlent known as Archmidopolis. The fires and smog of industry never ceases day or night to supply either paradise or the unending war of the Ironsong Chapter upon our unholy foes.

The Song half of Astraea is a paradise world in miniature. The old planetary governors of Astraea used to rule from here. Vast manicured forests and placid fresh water oceans reminiscent of Grecea on Old Earth before the Med was boiled away. On this half the planet fresh fruits and I'm particular olives and grapes are grown in carefully controlled and organized orchards. The inhabitants of this half of the world are able to explore the arts and what arcane arts the Mechanicus sponsors in vast symposiums. The old capital city of Novos Athoni is a sprawling city of wide boulevards and fresh air. It was a beautiful site after having been a child raised in Archmidopolis.

As part of the Ironsong Chapter traditions, aspirations are always suggested two at a time one for the Iron half of Astraea and one from the Song half. Further as part of the chapter's dedication to balance between both the industrial beauty of our mechanicus allies, and the children of Song, aspirants must be inducted into full membership of the chapter two at a time, both one from each half. Whether as forgerat, as we were called, or fop, each man and woman of the chapter is important. For readers unaware, the geneseed of the Ironsong Chapter has a unique trait that allows it to take hold in both men and women, however a part of the process random secondary sex traits of either sex have occasionally been known to appear on aspirants regardless of their original sex. Any further comments about primary traits changing are pure speculation and not supported by any evidence.

The chapter's fortress monstary can be found in a section of vast holowed out caverns in the Emperor's Spine connecting both half of the planet."

-From the collected works of Artificer Siderénia Teleiótita, Chapter Master of the Ironsong