#inevitable progress

[lifeinspiration4all]

Embracing the Pain: The Inevitable Price of Progress

Embracing the Pain: The Inevitable Price of Progress. In life, we all strive for progress and growth. We set goals, push ourselves to new heights, and work towards becoming the best versions of ourselves. However, what many people fail to realize is that progress comes at a price – and that price is often pain. To truly embrace progress, we must be willing to face challenges, overcome obstacles,…

[neo-eo-neo]

BAMboozelers new skins :)

[maryymaruu]

Inevitable Relativity has joined the party~ (with no confetti yet)

Her story is still a work in progress, but there are some points I can share which are rather unlikely to change, but also not written in stone yet:

- She is the youngest of the group, construction completed not too long before the Public Ascension, (we're still talking about many many years though, just in the grander scale it's not that long) which means she doesn't know TS from before him being silenced, other than what older Iterators might tell her- which normally should make her biased, but she's naturally a skeptical personality. Especially that asking around yields contradicting answers, she's not buying it.

- During her construction another incident occurred; a nearby Iterator has executed and failed a large-scale experiment which significantly damaged the local environment, negatively influencing the daily-life quality. In order to do something about it, a decision has been made to change direction of IR's construction, advancing her into a pollution control facility. That includes on-surface as well as on-structure purifying facilities.

- Second youngest Iterator to her, MOTI (yet to be introduced) became her closest friend as the most friendly one available. She also looked up a lot to ADOE and SoS. (Also yet to be introduced, SoS headcanon ver.) MOTI is like an older brother to her, whom she loves to banter and rival with, as some siblings do.

- Finds it suspicious how everyone seems to avoid the topic of Three Signals as if it's an unwritten taboo. Might be the first one to secretly break the silence one day and talk to them directly.

- She has yet to go through her rebellious phase, still kind of searching for her own identity. She's playful, friendly, cheery and kind of cocky/teasing, argumentative and perhaps a bit overconfident with her peers. With the exception of the group Senior- SOTU, he scares her into a quiet, blank "yes sir" mode, feeling like there is not even a possibility for a debate. (Which is a normal thing to feel about SOTU)

- Fascinated by what the ecosystem used to be like before their existence. Is very attached to existing species and actively puts effort into not letting any go extinct. Always incredibly excited to see new species pop up too!

More in-depth dynamics or quirks of her are still a work in progress... I need to work on the overall story arc and all the other present characters aaaaaaaa-

Feel free to ask me questions about her, maybe it will help me with character building- ;w;

[vintage-tigre]

[reactionimagesdaily]

Reaction images aside, how are you holding up?

Aww, thanks for asking. :P

To be honest, I'm probably doing better than most. I'm a healthy cishet white man who lives in the UK, so I don't have nearly as much to worry about as I know a lot of people do. (Also hey, I'm enjoying the new Dragon Age game, so that's been nice.) But I also know what kind of ramifications this election is bound to have, both inside the US and beyond.

(I mean, the world's biggest democracy is getting overtly more hostile and authoriarian in real time (y'know. again), and I know on this side of the pond we've got some real brain donors who'd love to see something similar happen here. I'm worried about what Trump could do once he's back in charge, and I'm worried about what might happen to my own country, with it's 'special relationship' to the US, as a result. And I'm not alone in that.

All this on a fuckin' Wednesday...)

Anyway, I had a longer thing written out here about the concept of orthopraxis (just while I was trying to get my thoughts in order, lmao) but the core of what I want to say is this:

I think we're about to see an uptick in people being shitty

I'm going to counter that by doing un-shitty things

What do I mean by un-shitty things? Well, I've been meaning to participate in Amnesty International's 'Write For Rights' campaign for months - I just fired off my first email today. I've already donated to causes supporting Gaza in the past, but now I'm also planning to write to my local MP about how annoyed I am that my country is still culpable in genocide. Make my voice heard, you know? I also want to keep making art that people enjoy, because I think that's important. And I'm going to buy another commission from an artist I like, because they could probably use something good in their life right now. And... to be honest, I'm not sure what else I'll do yet. When I figure it out, though, I'll try and actually do it.

Maybe for you, un-shitty things mean something smaller scale. Hugging your loved ones for longer, or giving that loose change you always carry around to the next homeless person you see. That's good too. Maybe it's something larger in scale, and that's awesome! But to anyone who's reading this, I'd definitely recommend doing something that not only feels good, but is also TANGIBLE. Not only does doing feel good, but it means that you're improving someone else's life, in however small a way. Which, y'know. Net positive, innit.

(Yes, I'm aware this is basically the 'when you see someone being so mean it inspires you to be kinder meme', lmao. No, I don't really care.)

You asked me how I'm holding up? Well, the first thing I'd like to do is respond to your question in kind: how are you holding up? In a general sense? In specific ways? Hopes, anxieties, plans?

And the next thing I'm going to do is tell you that I'm more than holding up.

I'm locking in.

[docterzerocare]

With all of the comparisons of joels wild life skin to skizz pre ep1 and then the reveal of the fast and furious bit ive connected some dots that arent connected

Hear me out, joel is modeling himself after a man with a friends are family and family is everything mentality to hopefully make and maintain friendships (which makes me insane btw) and he just so happens to look like mr loyal himself skizzleman

Like we know the meta of dom toretto n stuff but in universe mayhaps there was a subconscious (or concious but hed never admit that) inspiration

[son-of-avraham]

How does conversion work for a trans person? I'm scared of being naked for the mikveh immersion and also the part about circumcision, I really don't want anyone to see my body naked

I feel you on that, anon. So, it will heavily depend on which branch of judaism you plan on converting to, but there will be trans-friendly and trans-unfriendly spaces within each branch. I think the best course of action is to ask around with rabbis which take in students - definitely ask rabbis what their expectations would be as a trans student. Honestly, the only reason I didn't disclose my transness immediately to my rabbi was because I could tell he'd be trans-friendly even through email.

Now, I don't know your specific circumstances, nor will I ask, but there are options depending on what you're looking for. I'm a trans guy - I don't have the obligation to go through bris, and I'm not really able to. However, I do fulfill many of the mitzvot for men, and that compromise sort of offsets the fact that I don't have any way to really go through with bris.

For the mikvah, I've heard some places will put a sheet barrier in the water so that your body isn't fully seen. From what I know, you just need people to witness (even for a split second) that you are fully immersed and not your body. This might be dependent on the movement, however.

Otherwise, the process is very similar if not identical to cis counterparts. You can fulfill a ton of mitzvot as yourself, and in general, transness doesn't really prevent you from doing that. I would definitely talk with your rabbi for any accomodations you might want in this process - it's imperative that you're able to trust your rabbi to be receptive and willing to hear you out or compromise or anything else. If you have follow-up questions, I'd love to hear them; I can only speak to my experiences, but I know that it can sometimes be comforting to know you're not the only trans convert in the world. Transsexuals have become jewish since the dawn of time; you have no reason not to be jewish if that is something you want.

[ohgreat-moretapes]

I can't stop blaming ourselves about Tim. He was getting better —Déjà Vu moment—, and I know we want answers and we want Tim to remember, but with the stun we pulled he regressed a bunch of steps back. We should have kept our mouths shut about Marble Hornets tbh ://

It's ok he's gonna be ok

49 54 20 57 41 53 20 50 52 4F 42 41 42 4C 59 20 49 4E 45 56 49 54 41 42 4C 45 20 41 4E 59 57 41 59 53

-⦻⦻⦻

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Loving Memory: A Retelling of East of the Sun, West of the Moon

The woman striding across the ballroom floor takes my breath away. She is perfection in human form--regal and statuesque, with hair like a raven's wing, skin like a fresh fall of snow, and ice-blue eyes that can captivate a man's heart.

And the gown! It makes her beauty seem almost divine. It shimmers and swirls like rivers of gold, making the icy-white marble of the floor and walls glow with the light of the sun that has not shone here for a month of days. I nearly fall to my knees, but I am a prince--soon to be a king--so I merely bow over her hand, lead her into the dance, and thank heaven for our impending marriage. Jorunn knows I do not love her, but at moments like these, I have no doubt that I shall.

We whirl through the dancers, the lords and ladies assembled for our upcoming wedding, all of them flawless in form, wearing suits and gowns of impossible beauty--a rainbow of velvets and silks, gold and jewels. My betrothed outshines them all. I feel clumsy and common in comparison, and marvel yet again that I am deemed worthy to join--and soon rule--this court.

When the dance ends, I bring Jorunn to the refreshment table, where we take glasses of sweet blue punch.

"You should drink your tonic, darling," Jorunn says, removing a small silver flask from a pocket in her skirt.

"Must I?" I ask, glancing to the watching crowd. I usually take the tonic before bed, in private. I don't relish my future subjects knowing that their king is an invalid.

"You must have your strength tonight," she says, pouring what looks like a double dose into my punch. The icy blue liquid turns a murky amber.

I down the drink in one gulp, cringing as the bitter aroma fills my head. I swear I can feel it coursing through my limbs. They feel heavier than they had a moment before. My head feels murkier.

It passes in a moment, and once again I'm overjoyed to be here, with her, in this impossibly beautiful realm.

I kiss Jorunn's cheek and thank her for her watchfulness. I feel as if I could dance all night.

The music starts up--an enticing melody of flutes and strings--but just as I pull Jorunn into the dance, a commotion starts at the other edge of the crowd. The music stops, and the crowd parts to reveal...something...crossing the floor. Some kind of animal has entered the ballroom--smaller than a bear, larger than a dog, with patches of fur in every shade of white and black and brown.

As it comes nearer, I see that it walks upright on two legs--two human legs, with two small, white human hands poking out from the folds of the fur.

"What is it?" I ask Jorunn. "Who let it into the ballroom?"

"I did," Jorunn says. "She is my invited guest."

I bow my head in embarrassment. "I'm...certain she's quite charming."

Jorunn pushes my shoulder, gently urging me toward the girl. "Dance with her, Eirik."

"I?" I yelp. How could a prince--a future king--demean himself by dancing with such a creature before all his subjects. "Why?"

Jorunn tilts her head toward me and murmurs, "Because I keep my promises. This girl is the one who gifted me this dress, and in return all she asked was a dance with you."

"A strange boon to demand from a woman about to be married," I say. Stranger still that Jorunn granted it.

"We aren't wed yet," Jorunn says playfully. "I can't keep you all to myself, no matter how much I may wish to." She urges me toward the girl. "Go on, my love. It's not too much to ask."

Despite myself, I feel a pang of pity for the creature. She gave away a dress fit for a queen and had to appear in this ballroom in a bundle of furs. Such unselfishness merits a few minutes of kindness. "For your sake, my dear," I say, bowing over Jorunn's hand. "And for hers. I assure you I'll take no joy in it."

Jorunn smiles. "I've no worries on that account."

#

Fighting a feeling of revulsion, I approach the girl, bow, and offer my hand. "Might I have this dance?"

The girl--she barely reaches my shoulder--looks up at me. A white face appears from within the furry hood--a pointed chin, high cheekbones, a determined mouth, and defiant green eyes.

The woman faintly smiles, and my heart stops. In this palace of perfection, she seems so real. Not ice and gold and glamour, but sun and earth and, oh, a million ordinary, beautiful things I haven't thought about since I came to this place.

"Who are you?" I gasp, the words slipping out before I can think.

Her eyes go wide--confused and dismayed. She throws back her hood, revealing yellow hair. Not golden or raven or mahogany or any of the awe-inspiring shades that make the people of this realm so beautiful. Just yellow. But it is braided into a crown about her head that suits her better than any jewels.

Those green eyes meet mine. "You know me," she says.

I stare into those eyes, which seem to hold something I haven't known I've lost. If I know this girl, I can't remember her. My past before this palace is a murky haze--standing in such brightness makes everything else seem dim.

I shake away the threads of memory before I go mad from trying to grasp them. "Forgive me," I say, "but if we've met, I can't recall."

I signal to the musicians to start the music, and I sweep the fur-clad maiden into a waltz. She is silent as we dance, gazing up at my face as if trying to memorize me.

I say, trying to be kind, "That's a wondrous cloak you wear. I've never seen its like."

It's not a lie. It seems to be made of the skin of every beast there ever was. I see white fur, black fur, brown fur, some solid, some speckled, some striped, all stitched together in a haphazard pattern, as though someone was desperate to make use of every scrap.

The woman looks down. "It is all I had left to me, after..."

I kindly wait for her to speak.

"I've had a great loss," she finally says. "I have searched ever since to find you."

"If there is anything I can do for you," I say, "you need only ask. You have done a great service for my bride."

The girl stumbles.

I catch her and help her upright. "I am sorry. Did I trip you?"

"No," she gasps, grasping her side. As we slide into the dance again, she looks up into my face. "Do you truly not know me?"

"I wish I could say otherwise," I say, and I mean it with all my heart. There is something about this girl that makes the world seem larger than I realized. "Perhaps if you told me your name?"

She shakes her head. "I can't. Even if I could, what good would my name do if you've already forgotten my face?" She bows her head with a strangled noise, and I see tears streaming from her eyes. "I spent so many months imagining this moment. I hoped you'd be overjoyed to see me. I was afraid you'd hate me. But I never imagined...this. That I meant so little to you that you've already forgotten me."

"There is much I have forgotten," I say, before I can remember that none are supposed to know of my affliction. "This place, it...dazzles the mind. There are many things I wish I could recall about the world beyond this realm. If I knew you there, I am certain you were well worth remembering, and it pains me to say that I do not. But whatever we had before, I am glad to know you now."

She wipes her face against the fur on her sleeve. When she looks up at me, her eyes hold something like hope. "Do you think--"

The music slows to a stop, and before we can finish the step, Jorunn steps between me and the girl. She places one hand on the girl's chest and pushes her away. "You've had your dance," she says. "Now trouble us no more."

The girl steps away, but she takes a hesitant glance back at me.

I smile gently. "Thank you for the dance. I will remember your face next time."

Those words put a determination into her gaze that seems instantly to dry her tears. "I will see you again," she says and disappears into the crowd.

For the rest of the night, I dance with the queen of the realm at the top of the world, a peerless beauty with the radiance of the sun who lays a kingdom at my feet. But my thoughts are on a girl with green eyes, wearing a coat made of all kinds of fur.

#

At the next night's ball, Jorunn wears a sleek gown that gleams with the silver radiance of the moon. It makes her seem ethereal, a woman of wondrous mystery. But she is not the mystery I find myself pondering.

"You seem distracted tonight, Eirik," she says. "Have you taken your tonic?"

Upon my denial, she pours a dose into my punch glass. After one swallow, my racing thoughts begin to slow. What does that strange girl matter? I can be happy here, with this incomparable queen at my side.

A commotion begins on the other side of the ballroom, and the many-furred girl appears among the crowd. I take a hasty swallow of the tonic, but set down the punch glass while it's still half-full.

I look to Jorunn, whose eyes are narrowed toward the girl. "Another dance in exchange for tonight's dress?" I ask.

"Two," Jorunn says. "She drives a hard bargain."

I squeeze her hand. I know my duty with this marriage. She has no need to be jealous. "I will do what I must," I say. "We must keep our promises."

I smile as I approach the girl. She smiles in response, and it makes her more radiant than Jorunn's dress. Again, I am struck by how real she is, practical and solid in a world of wisps and dreams.

"You returned," I say, as I whisk her into a waltz.

"I said I would," she replies.

"I'm glad to know you keep your promises."

She winces, and tears spring to her eyes.

"Forgive me," I say. "I don't wish to cause pain."

"No," she says, shaking her head and wiping her tears into a furred sleeve. "It is no more than I deserve."

"You have broken promises?" It seems cruel to ask, but I think she might welcome the question. It could shed some light on the past that she wants me to remember.

"Only one," she says. "But it destroyed everything."

I remember what she said about her cloak last night. It was all that was left to me. I have suffered a great loss.

"We all break promises sometimes," I say, trying to soothe her.

"Not like mine," she insists. "I did the one thing I was asked not to do. I betrayed the man I loved, and now he is lost to me."

"And he is why you have sought me out? You think I can convince him to forgive you?"

She looks into my face for a long, long moment, step after step, turn after turn. "I don't think," she says at last, "that he knows there is anything to forgive. And that's the worst thing of all."

How can this man be lost to her if he doesn't know she betrayed him? Has she run from her failure, rather than face disgrace?

I know well the temptation to hide from dishonor. Don't I hide my own affliction? This girl has no kingdom to run, but she still has pride to protect.

"Tell him," I say.

Tears flow freely down her cheeks. "I can't."

"I can help you."

"You can't!" she says, dropping my hand. She buries her face in her sleeve. "I don't know why I came."

I place a hand on her shoulder, and fight the strangest urge to turn it into an embrace. "Forgive me," I say. "You come to me for help, and I only cause you pain."

She wipes her face and swallows down a sob. "It's not your fault," she says. "Here I am, wasting our dance by crying."

The song fades to a close. "I still owe you another." I find myself panicked at the thought she won't take it.

"You do," she says, with a wet little laugh. My heart leaps at the sound of it. "Will you give me a chance to compose myself?"

"Take all the time you need," I say, leading her to a seat by a towering window that looks out upon the vast snow plains and a gorgeous spectacle of northern lights. She sits in the soft wing-backed chair and looks out the window, while I stand behind her leaning over the headrest. Despite knowing Jorunn for months, I have yet to have a moment with her that feels this...comfortable.

In the blue-black night, ribbons of violet, blue and green dance and flicker across the sky. The girl snuggles into her robe and gazes upon them with wonder.

"Have you ever seen such lights?" I ask. No matter how many times I see them, they never lose their appeal.

"Many times," she says. "Perhaps not quite this beautiful. Though they are lovely when seen from outside." She lays her head contentedly on her arm rest, using her furs as a pillow.

Her phrasing surprises me. "Do you often travel at night?"

"Night after night after night," she says. "Day after day after day. I never stopped. I climbed mountains, crossed rivers, rode the backs of all four winds."

"To find me," I say. "To find the man you love."

She startled and sits up, looking me straight in the eye. "Yes," she breathes, quivering with excitement.

"I wish I knew how to help you," I say. "You must love him very much."

Her shoulders sink. She sighs. "More than you may ever know."

"I only pray my wife and I can know such love."

She examines me closely. "You mean the princess. Do you mean to say you don't love her?"

It seems improper to speak of such things, and yet I find myself able to tell this girl things I couldn't tell anyone else. Why should I speak less than the truth? "Ours is a political match," I say. "I find her beautiful. I respect her strength. I appreciate her care for me. Love can come with time."

"What would she need to do to make you love her? What would you want in a wife?"

Someone who can come into a ballroom clad in furs and not feel shame. Someone who knows how to laugh and cry. Someone who loves to watch the northern lights. Someone who travels night and day to apologize to a man she betrayed.

In the end, I choose the diplomatic answer. "I don't know that I can ask for more than what I already have."

#

The girl is quieter during our second dance, carefully content. Her tears are stored away and she will not risk letting them out again.

Now that I'm not distracted by the mystery of her identity, or my lack of memory, or her sorrow over her lost love, I am able to focus on the dance itself, and I find that she is a marvelous dancer. Not so supernaturally graceful as Jorunn, but surprisingly easy to dance with, especially considering that she is wrapped in furs. The woman follows at my every touch, stepping smoothly through turns, patiently waiting if I stumble. I don't stumble often. My limbs feel lighter tonight, my head clearer--strange, given that I've had only half a dose of tonic.

"How did you come to have such wondrous dresses," I ask, "when you have only furs to wear yourself?" The question that had been easy to dismiss last night now seems impossible to ignore.

"You meet lots of strange people when you travel the world," she says with a smile. "They were gifts from some of the most marvelous old women I've ever met. Of course, I've had no occasion to wear them."

"A royal ball is not reason enough?"

"Not if I can't get inside. I'd rather have the dance than the dress."

A dance with me, worth more than a gown of celestial wonders? All for the chance I could help her reconcile with her lost love?

"I am sorry to have been such a disappointment."

"You're not that," she insists. "It's been wonderful just to see you."

"Worth a trip around the world and two wondrous dresses?"

"Not quite," she admits with a smile. "But enough for now. There's still time."

The music slows and falls silent. I bow her out of the dance. "Not for us, I'm afraid. I can give you no more dances."

"Tomorrow, then," she says, smiling over her shoulder as she disappears into the crowd.

Something about her glance--the twist of her hair, the angle of her head--sparks what might be a memory in my mind. Those green eyes flashing. That mouth open in a laugh. White flakes flashing around her as she runs through the snow, while I follow her--strangely--on all fours.

I cannot explain the memory or remember her name. But I do know, whatever her name is, or whatever she was to me, that somewhere in the past, in some way, I have loved her.

#

The next evening, the last night before our wedding, Jorunn wears a deep blue dress that shimmers with the light of the stars themselves. It is breathtakingly beautiful, but coldly, distantly so--like the woman who wears it. She doesn't smile like the girl with the furs. She doesn't converse while we dance--we can't think of anything to speak of. I can think of no part of my heart I could share with her as I did with the girl last night. I wonder how I thought I could ever grow to love her.

Tonight, Jorunn's offer of the tonic seems, not considerate, but overbearing. Last night I had only half a dose, and I felt better than ever. After Jorunn pours a dose into my punch, I barely sip at it, and when her back is turned, I dump the rest into a potted plant. There will be no more dances after our wedding tomorrow. If I'm to help the girl find her lost love, I want my mind to be as clear as possible.

The glance Jorunn gives the strange girl as she enters the dining room is cold enough to freeze. The girl doesn't seem to feel it through her furs. When Jorunn hands me off, her behavior toward the girl is sullen and hostile.

The girl smiles and curtsies. "The dress is stunning on you, majesty."

"It ought to be, for what it cost me." Jorunn starts to stride away, but then turns around and levels a fierce finger toward the girl. "Not a moment past the stroke of midnight."

The girl bows her head. "I know the bargain."

"Until midnight?" I ask, as I lead the girl into a dance.

The girl smiles. "For tonight, at least, I have you all to myself."

We dance a few dances, while the girl asks me on occasion if I remember anything about my life before. I have flashes of images that might be memories, but nothing that will help the girl in her search. After a while, the girl grows warm in her furs, and we leave the ballroom for the cold quiet of the balcony.

Together, we gaze at the stars and across the vast plains of snow. I remember seeing her like this, on a sunlit balcony in a faraway palace. I wanted to kiss her then, but I couldn't. Probably because she loved another. Just as I am promised to another now.

"Please," I ask in a low whisper. "Can't you tell me your name?"

She shakes her head with tears in her eyes. "Please stop asking. If you don't know it on your own, I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It is part of the bargain."

Does Jorunn know who this girl is? "The queen isn't here."

The girl squeezes her eyes shut against some memory. "I have seen the consequences of breaking promises to her. I will not risk it again."

It destroyed everything.

"Your lost love?" I ask.

She nods.

How could that great queen separate this woman from the man she so faithfully loves? What role could Jorunn possibly have in this spat between lovers?

We start down a staircase that leads to a stone path through the snow around the palace. The light from the ballroom windows pours out over us, shining on the girl's furs. The cloak I wear is mostly decorative, and I find myself wishing for furs of my own.

I wore a coat of white fur, thicker than thick.

The flash of memory has no bearing on the mystery I'm trying to solve.

I ask the girl, "If Jorunn knows of your lost love, why do you come to me for help? Why do you not ask her?"

"Allowing me to speak to you is all the help she is willing to give."

I do not begin to understand the complicated politics of this realm. When I am king, I will have to learn, but I will rely on Jorunn for a long while.

"After our wedding, perhaps, I can ask her to help..."

"After the wedding, it will be too late!" She storms down the path. "You'll be married to a woman you don't love! She'll have trapped you forever!"

I try to soothe her. "She won't be able to stop me from speaking to you."

She throws her hands in the air. "You don't understand! You'll never understand!" She is sobbing now. "It was hopeless from the beginning! You can't see the truth about her, or me, and I've no way to tell you! I've doomed us all! I don't deserve redemption, or mercy, or even compassion! I'm the faithless wife who threw away love!"

As she speaks the last words, something flies off her hand, flashing golden as it spirals into the snow. The girl flees down the path, silently sobbing.

I dive for the divot in the snow where the item fell. I pull out a small golden ring set with amethysts and emeralds and ice blue diamonds--the northern lights captured in stone. The ring glitters on my palm, round and flawless. I remember its every facet.

By the One who made the sky and stone, I pledge my heart and soul to you.

Clutching the ring, I race after her and call out, "Karina!"

#

I stood outside a cottage, trapped in the form of a white bear. The girl with a crown of yellow hair faced me fearlessly and agreed to be my bride, sliding the golden ring upon her left hand.

#

Short sunlit days on a beautiful tundra. She would ride on my back for hours, laughing for sheer joy as we raced across the snowy fields.

#

For nearly a year, she shared my bed. I was man by night and bear by day. She was forbidden to see my face and did not mind.

#

A year and a day, and the curse would be broken. Eleven months after our wedding, I woke to hot wax dripping on my shirt, from a candle she held over my face.

#

The palace dissolved into dust, and the troll queen arrived to claim her lawful prize. My wife screamed my name as I disappeared into a whirlwind of magic and snow.

#

In the shadows and snowbanks far from the palace, I grip Karina's shoulders and gaze deep into her familiar, beloved face. "Karina," I breathe. "I remember."

"Everything?" she asks, as tears stream down her face.

"Everything," I say, and kiss her senseless.

#

Karina and I sit huddled together beneath her coat of furs. I have told her of my months of imprisonment, of the magical tonic the troll queen forced upon me until I thought myself a willing captive. Karina has told me of the harrowing journey she has taken--the three dresses she received from three magical women, the way she rode the backs of all four winds to find me. If there was ever anything to forgive her for, the devotion she has shown in finding me more than absolves her.

I kiss her again as she finishes her tale, finding joy in finding her so real, in knowing my own mind and knowing her.

My own.

My beloved.

My wife.

It is like falling in love all over again.

"I'm so sorry," Karina says again. "I should never have listened to mother. If I hadn't burned that hateful candle--"

I silence her with another kiss. "If you hadn't betrayed me, I wouldn't have this moment. Meeting my wife all over again." I press her to my heart. "I could have no greater joy."

"But you're getting married tomorrow," Karina says. "By the terms of the curse, you must wed Jorunn."

"Trust me," I say, "and all will be well. So long as you will let me borrow your wedding ring."

#

In the bright light of midday, the ballroom has become a wedding chapel, filled nearly to bursting with lords and ladies and lesser subjects. I now know them for what they are--trolls whose perfect human appearances are nothing but glamours over huge, thick, ugly faces. My would-be wife is ugliest of all, her cruelty coming out upon her in black boils upon her snow-white face and long, pointed nose. The glamour hides her face for now, but it cannot hide the malicious triumph as she gazes upon me--her pet and prize. Her wedding to me will give her dominion over a human realm, and allow her kind to wreak havoc across the world of ordinary men.

She wears the golden sunlight gown, but in daylight, it seems dim and colorless. Even her flawless glamoured face is ugly when I compare her to my ordinary, beloved Karina. My wife is somewhere in the crowd, I know. She has promised to be here, and I trust her to keep her promises.

I do my best to play the magic-addled prince as the highest-ranking of the lords reads aloud their marriage ceremony--endless lists of the glories this alliance will bring to our two realms.

At last, the high lord cries out, merely for form's sake, "Is there any impediment to the marriage between this man and woman?"

"Only one," I shout, stepping away from Jorunn.

Jorunn's expression is black. I can almost see the troll's face beneath the glamour. "Eirik, what is this?"

"Under the laws of troll-kind," I tell the crowd, "Queen Jorunn can wed me if she keeps me here for a year and a day. But there is another law--as would-be husband to the queen, I have a right to set a standard for my bride. If she fails to meet it, all bond between us comes to an end." I stride across the dais to stare into Jorunn's black eyes. "All bonds," I say. "Matrimonial, moral, and magical. Isn't that right?"

Jorunn seems a heartbeat away from tearing out and eating my eyeballs, so I turn to the lord performing the marriage rite. "Isn't that right?"

The troll lord blinks at me. His human form looks like a jittery old man. "That is... technically correct," he says. "But I don't believe this is the right time."

"There is no better time!" I say. "The very last moment when I can see if she is worthy to be my bride."

Jorunn is proud, regal, icy. She steps toward me. "What is your challenge?" she demands. "Make it anything, and I will meet it."

No doubt she thinks she can. I have seen what her magic can do. If I set an enormous challenge--moving a mountain, emptying a sea--she will accomplish it easily. Fortunately, the challenge I plan is impossibly small.

"In the human realm," I say, "we marry under another law--older and more sacred. This marriage rite is bound by the words of a man and woman, and symbolized in the exchange of a pair of rings." I brandish the Karina's ring and hold it high. "By that law, my lawful wife is the one who fits this ring, and I can wed no other."

I search the room for Karina, but I can see her nowhere in the teeming, agitated crowd.

Jorunn stride toward me and snatches the ring from my hand. "Is that all?" she sneers. "Any woman can do that."

Her glamour has fooled even herself. She has forgotten that her hands only appear slender. Trolls can change the forms of others--into a white bear, for instance--even addle the minds of others into believing in changes that aren't real, but their own bodies are impervious to magic. Any alterations to themselves are mere glamours. Beneath her glamoured image, Jorunn's hands are as thick and blocky as any troll's.

Jorunn is unable to slip the ring onto so much as a fingertip.

In rage, she throws the ring onto the floor. It bounces down the stairs and lays flat at their base. "A trick!" she cries. "He has set an unfair challenge! Find me a woman who can fit that ring, or else the challenge is void!"

In the snowy plains outside, I hear the wind building in strength--a whistle, a howl, and at last a roar that bursts open the wide doors of the ballroom. The wind blows the crowd of trolls toward the walls and down to the floor, leaving an open path down which a tiny, yellow-haired girl, clad in a cloak made of every kind of fur, strides fearlessly toward the dais.

I climb down the stairs, pick up the ring, and go down on one knee to offer it to Karina. This time, I can do it with human hands.

"My lady," I say, gazing up into her smiling eyes. "Will you take this ring?"

I slide it upon the fourth finger of her left hand. It fits perfectly.

I kiss her in triumph as Jorunn roars with rage.

Her roar is soon drowned out by the roar of a wind that surrounds me and Karina, lifts us into the air, and carries out the ballroom doors. Soon, we are soaring over snow-covered plains, and before I can fully understand that I am free, the pointed towers of the troll's icy palace have disappeared from sight.

Karina lays on her stomach, the pale blue currents of wind keeping her aloft. She helps me to do the same. While I marvel at this miraculous wind, she is perfectly at ease, and I realize she has done this. My ordinary, unmagical, entirely human wife has saved me.

"Eirik," Karina says, "I would like to introduce you to an old friend of mine."

#

The North Wind takes us far beyond the tundra where I lived with Karina as a white bear, beyond even the cottage where she lived with her parents, and to a castle in a rocky mountain range that I remember from my boyhood. As the wind sets us upright on the ground before the main doors, I laugh for joy.

"Am I...?" I ask, barely able to believe that I'm standing in this place, where I can recognize every rock and flower that emerges from the melting snow of the springtime ground.

The North Wind now looks like a man--huge and old, with an impossibly large beard. "Prince Eirik," he says, "I have brought you and your bride to the lands of your family."

The full understanding of my freedom comes upon me. Not only am reunited with my bride, not only am I free of enchantment, but I am home, able to move about in the ordinary world like any ordinary man. After so many years of magic, I can think of nothing more wondrous.

I sweep Karina up in my arms and point her gaze toward the door. "Come, my love," I say. "I've waited a very long time to take you home."

[qoldenskies]

i think the villain fire at will au snuck up on me a bit bc i confused it with wwww for a moment there lol but what is the villain au about, if there’s anything ur willing to share !!

wwww has some similar concepts but i think the biggest difference is that the wwww disaster twins are codependent while in fire at will i would say that the thing going on is more uhh. enmeshment. like

wwww leo is not intentionally abusive. he can be clingy, or pushy, or even hurtful, but these are responses to the environment he's in, and once he's in a safer place with a larger support system he's able to even out and their relationship becomes a lot healthier. he's always just under someone else's thumb. he's hurting.

but in fire at will it's not the same, leo is intentionally using donnie and stringing him along-- it's hard to say how much of it stems from emotional dependence and how much of it is malicious because of his own crumbling mental state, and i think answering that question would undermine the story so im not gonna. you're meant to question it tbh,,, but i'm also not going to undermine donnie's agency in a lot of his decisions. they're feeding into each other with their combined trauma and closing themselves off from others. a big part of the story is leo having an immense tragic falling out with raph in particular, and people take sides. it's a mess.

wwww is a story with a happy ending and fire at will is a tragedy-- death looms large over faw!leo as a threat for the entire story. it begins with an extremely intense near-death experience, and its his motivation for everything afterwards- a desire to run from it, to untangle himself from the web he's woven for himself. and he only sinks deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until it catches up on him and there's no running it from it anymore. now whether or not donnie ends up going down with him, like both of them believe he'd be supposed to, that's the question,,,

[chestersbraincell]

Oh btw for any grumbo shippers(I know I reblog a lot of the pairing because! Because they just have chemistry dang it!!), be it platonic or otherwise, I just came up with a little side plot-point that could work if you tweak around some of the timing between the two.

Imagine the reason why Mumbo is greying is because he’s secretly working at Mined!! To rescue Grian from the liminal hell he resides in!!!

[charlidrawz]

Yes I preordered Sonic the Hedgehog 3 for my husband & I as soon as I could

No I don't have a problem

[1nk-ling]

Deathbreather is Live on Webtoon!

Everyone everyone everyone!!

Ignore my editing skills for the moment, I'm excited. The comic I've been concepting finally has enough buffer to start posting! The first three episodes are up on Webtoon!

MY LIFE'S MISSION SINCE I DISCOVERED WEBCOMICS EXISTED IN 2020 IS NOW IN ACTION!!!

I'm not going to tell anyong to go read it because that sort of thing always annoys me, but if you want to...

[dandelionlinolinaline]

ok rant time, stick with me.

the reason i don’t like damian wayne is not that i don't enjoy him as a character, it is that he feels like the final nail in the coffin that is 'robin'. now what do i mean by this? dick grayson as robin is obviously fantastical. he is an interesting foil to bruce/batman, he i tragic and complex, but his backstory is very much not real. he feels like a fictional character, so it isn’t a stretch to suspend disbelief and 'buy' him being robin, so to say. the family dynamic he has with bruce is NOT like father and son (argue with the wall on this one), it's paternal, but regardless of age difference in different interpretations, it is very much an unconventional family dynamic.

now, i've never really had a major issue with jason todd as robin (maybe because he has been red hood for basically my entire lifetime), but he was the first step in a direction of a more traditional family; son, father, grandson (and older brother), which i strongly dislike. now say what you will about jason todd, but he was arguably the most 'real' of the robins (in terms of backstory). he has a much more plausible family background (not counting sheila working with the joker) and feels less like the fantasy of dick grayson and more like wish fulfilment of a poor kid (ultimately this is what i think led to his downfall at dc - they couldn’t sell the 'fantasy' of jason todd in the way they could the other robins).

tim drake is where i kinda take issue. he is the 'normal' robin, but is very clearly an 'upgrade' from jason todd. he fits into the socialite life, bruce is significantly older than him (enough to be his actual father), and dick also takes a much more active role as a 'big brother' than he did with jason. tim drake, as neither dick or jason did, seems like the successor to bruce wayne, as well as batman. he is a genius, brilliant detective, rich and well-versed in the upper echelons of society. he is a HUGE leap in the direction of this sort of 'born for the role' idea i really despise for robin.

(i will take the liberty of following dc's example and overlook stephanie brown's robin)

lastly damian. not only is he batman's biological son, he is a prodigy who has trained since birth to be the next batman and is the heir to the league of assassins (i also hate what his creation meant for talia as a character, but i'll let that rest). he is now amalgamation of this slow trajectory towards robin as an heir who is divinely 'destined' to become batman (evidenced by the fact that damian is the only robin to consistently have the surname wayne).

don’t get me wrong, i greatly enjoy damian wayne and think he has an interesting dynamic with a number of characters and has some really lovely character devlopmemt and arcs, but i hate hate hate how robin went from 'orphans make do' to 'the heir apparent to not only batman but bruce wayne' and i. idk, i just wish dc had kept more of the charm and choice that the relationship between bruce and dick.

[calypsothedigeridoodle]

Behold! My big fishy boy!

I’ve had Sam in the back of my mind ever since the original Big Run at Inkblot Art Academy and the rerun was the perfect opportunity to flesh him out. Only problem is that I may have cooked too hard while writing down what was originally an outline his backstory. Long story short is that it is no longer just an outline and he’s now anchored to the front of my brain. Whoops!

Actual backstory synopsis under the cut + other facts that felt too specific/long to add on the reference sheet

(Content warning for body horror)

Originally, Sam (full name Samuel Olmstead) was a young adult inkling who worked at Grizzco with his friends until the Inkblot Big Run. During the Big Run, he accidentally aggravated a Horrorboros with glowflies and was bitten after blowing up its bomb with an inkjet. After seemingly recovering from the bite, he noticed his body start to change overtime. At first it was just itchiness, hunger, and a growth spurt, but that was just the beginning. Soon his ink became discolored, scales started to grow out of his skin, he lost his ability to go into swim form, and an unwieldy tail grew at the base of his back. Terrified of what was happening and how others would react, he hid himself away in his apartment. He eventually started sneaking out at night to Hagglefish Market for food, but one of his runs went wrong. He fell in the water trying to run away from some dock workers and learned that he now no longer dissolves in water. Understanding how he could no longer live safely and happily in Splatsville, he swam away into the wilderness. After wandering around for some time and failing to fit in among salmonids, he eventually settled down in a swamp near Alterna.

Ok now for some bonus facts!

-Like many boss salmonids, salmonlings, and therefore Sam, have an ability based off of a special weapon. Sam’s special is the Killer Wail 5.1, with a key difference being that he can lock onto a maximum of 6 different targets instead of 3.

-Salmonlings are technically a type of King Salmonid and therefore can grow bronze, silver, and gold scales.

-Sam has mostly grown used to having shiny scales(bronze, silver, and gold), but doesn’t like it when they grow on his face. He’s gotten into the bad habit of removing any that grow there, treating it like shaving his face when it’s really not.

-Sam made a title for himself in an attempt to fit in with the Salmonids. His title was “The Unknown King That Walks Between Two Worlds.”

I think that’s all for now, but I will be making more when I can!

[legionofpotatoes]

everyone hates crunch and everyone wants the new dragon age to have 4x the scope with 8x the quantum content