#love the rambling tags

[progenycursed]

Hello! I love your comic and wanted thankyou for your great work. I always get super giddy when I see a new chapter (if you couldn't tell by my rambling tags)

Anyway, chapter 15 left me with a few questions. Could you elaborate on why the pure vessel isn't able to see other bugs emote? and when this is said: " The hollow knight. It's hollow" Who is speaking? And why does this convince the pale king?

Aww! ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡ Thank you so much!! And I love rambling tags! Every time there is a reblog I read through them all. It always makes me so giddy to see people reacting in the tags! It makes me think of sitting in my room, then suddenly hearing muffled exclamations of joy from a few rooms down. Which makes it all the more glee inducing for me.

And I would love to elaborate! The reason the pure vessel can’t see/sense the emotions of other bugs, it entirely because the Pale King is blocking them. Which is also why the pure vessel can’t sense his emotions. That’s the reason he never lets them be around other bugs without himself being present. After several previous failed pure vessel attempts, he has come to a conclusion that many of them failed because the emotions of other bugs were tainting the vessels. The only people he is even remotely okay with being around the vessel without him, are bugs that can conceal their emotions like he can. Like Lurien, when he’s not flustered(chapter 8), and Relda(chapter 11).

For your second question, it requires some explanation. The Pale King was using his foresight ability to look into the future. Checking to see if the Hollow Knight plan will work. However! Void can ‘deny time,’ as one of the white palace lore tablets said, thus it has a nasty ability to mess with his foresight. That’s why when he was in his void lab, when he tried to look into the future, time lines were overlapping and obscured. And while it was clearer once he got far away from the void, he was still trying to look into the future of a void being. So it still wasn’t as clear as his normal foresight is. He has about as much information about the glimpse as we do. But he isn’t used to not being able to trust his visions 100%. So, instead of being smart and asking questions, he just believed it.

And I am going to control my can’t-shut-the-fuck-up-itis and not explain anymore, as this will be an important plot point later in the comic. ( ｡ •̀ ᴗ •́ ｡) One I am sooooo excited to get to!

[secondbeatsongs]

somehow instead of saying "as a treat", I've started using the phrase "for morale", as if my body is a ship and its crew, and I (the captain) have to keep us in high spirits, lest we suffer a mutiny in the coming days.

and so I will eat this small block of fancy cheese, for morale. I will take a break and drink some tea, for morale. I will pick up that weird bug, for morale.

I'm not sure if it helps, but it does entertain me

[plaguedbyvisions]

there’s just something about the weight of a hammer in your hand. feels so right

[tragedykery]

I ❤️ self-loathing characters, characters who struggle with monstrosity (either fearing or embracing it), characters who are so lonely, who have a gaping hole in their chest, who bottle up & repress their feelings, who claw their way up & have ambitions, who fall down & lose everything, who search for identity & purpose yet can’t see themselves outside of what others want from or expect of them, who are hurt & hurt others, who long & grieve, who lie & pretend. characters who are messy & flawed & human

[lilyliveredlittlerichboy]

hey um, this might be an unpopular opinion rn, but you need to examine antisemitism in your thoughts and actions and communities even when it isn't politically convenient or socially acceptable to.

i would argue that it's actually even more important and necessary to examine and challenge antisemitism when it isn't politically convenient, cus that's when antisemitism is most likely to be rearing its ugly head again.

that's how fascism gets you - by making you believe that bigotry in your community is actually the "right thing to do".

don't fall into the trap.

love and support Jewish people now more than ever.

[biboomerangboi]

Hua Cheng essentially cockblocking himself for possibly all of eternity will literally never not be the funniest thing MXTX ever wrote.

Xie Lian was pretty much completely in love with him the second he saw those lanterns (and completely oblivious about it) and then we get the wonderful first kiss underwater moment and Xie Lian is basically drawing hearts around Hua Cheng every time he sees him. While like quietly dying cause he literally has no idea what to do with it. Like at this point he doesn’t even really understand that he is head over heels totally gone for this man.

Until Hua Cheng is like I have a beloved I just haven’t won them over yet. Which he thinks is perfectly reasonable because his self esteem is the worst and he doesn’t understand how he could have won Xie Lian over yet. (He’s only on step 22 of his Marrying Dianxia 3000 step Master Plan ((that he debates throwing out on a regular basis because he doesn’t deserve to even dream about wanting Xie Lian)). So course he’s like yeah I have this wonderful noble beautiful beloved I just haven’t won them over yet wink wink nudge nudge.

But Xie Lian is like oh of course obviously I don’t deserve nice things and fuck I actually wanted him so badly I’m actually in love with him and now I will resign myself to never being happy for his sake. (Their combined self esteem is truly a so low it’s a hole in the ground which is hilarious because they think the other person is to good for them and unattainable forever because they literally have the same neurosis.) So he starts boxing up his feelings forever constantly wanting Hua Cheng and feeling guilty about it and literally dying inside because he wants Hua Cheng like he’s never wanted anyone.

Like essentially books 3 and 5 only happen because Hua Cheng has now cursed them both by saying he has a beloved because Xie Lian believes he isn’t wanted and therefore any nice thing Hua Cheng does is just him being nice and not Hua Cheng pulling out steps 23-34 of his plan thinking he still hasn’t won Xie Lian over. (He has he so has but he shot himself in the foot so badly it’s painful to read).

Like thank the Gods Hua Cheng is so unhinged and created the cave of 10000 Gods cause Xie Lian would literally be at his own wedding to Hua Cheng still convinced he wanted someone else and this was in fact a thing they were doing to solve a case together otherwise.

Like he needed something that unhinged to put 2 and 2 together otherwise he never would have caught on he’s Hua Cheng’s beloved. Meanwhile Hua cheng is like 🥺 he’s going to think I’m a weirdo now and I’m only on step 50 of the plan 🥺 like the two of them wouldn’t have been fucking nasty 2 books ago if he just kept his mouth shut and didn’t cockblock himself so violently.

[kindaorangey]

miraculous ladybug is a hotbed of whiplash between extremely hard-hitting show-don't-tell writing and expositing-the-point-directly-into-the-camera writing. like the show is constructed so the basic plot can be understood by 6 year olds but then you'll randomly have a scene during a timeskip that shows adrien's room in a depression-induced mess after he quits modelling and it will never be addressed as such but it will neatly convey the disruption to his mental state that a lack of routine causes him. and u just have to deal with both of those things side by side constantly😭

[veritasrose]

I am begging, begging y’all to understand the difference between gore and body horror please.

Body horror is transformation/monstrous sort of things like a mouth where you shouldn’t have one or like, the shifting bones and whatnot in werewolf transformations. It is where something horrific is happening within the body itself.

It is not a bloody nose, cuts, wounds, injuries ect. That is gore. It is not scars, limb differences, or visual disabilities either.

For fuck’s sake please learn this stuff because the next time I see someone tagging a scarred or disabled character as “body horror” I am gonna lose it.

(Image ID courtesy of @consistantly-changing )

[Image ID: a section from doesthedogdie, a site that allows users to put common triggers on movies. The question is "Is there body horror?". There are 4 votes for Yes, and 0 votes for No. The text below, which elaborates where and what the trigger is, says "bloody head/nose and some cuts on a childs arm from her mum. also an infected rabbit bite on the protagonist".]

[falling-raine]

might as well do this- uh no pressure to anyone who sees this btw

at 10 notes ill drink a glass of water

at 50 ill do some homework

at 75 ill clean my room

at 100 ill make sure to set up a selfcare app with everything i need to do and stick to it

at 250 ill work on my book plot

at 500 ill finish my takehome test

at 750 ill finish my presentation on why ppl should listen to tma

at 1k ill change my pronouns on discord to show my neos

at 2k ill share a fic i already wrote here but have been to scared to share

at 3k ill plan a fic

at 6k ill finish my animation

at 8k ill finish all my play list

at 10k ill try to fix my sleep schedual

[rice-enjoyer]

[pyralart]

I don't think Belos is taking it very well

First part (You are here) >> Next Part

First batch of this little series, inspired by @petitprincess1's idea! I couldn't get this scenario out of my head so of course I drew it.

Get ready because it will have at least 8 pages! Probably my longest comic yet

There will be some angst but the violence will overall be canon-typical!

[dizzybizz]

"this is regrettably the best kiss of your life, you understand?"

[treasure-goblin]

Reblog to let prev know you're proud of how far they've come and that they are deserving of love and care.

[webonchin]

Ouuhhhyheaaa ouuhyhaaa ,FINALLY! FINISHED SOMETHING BEFORE THE YEAR ENDS

First of all thank you all soooo soo much for following or just liking my art, support means alot to me , second you are all so talented and so sweet! even if you don't create content you are all so cool!! Yes you reading this ,you are so cool!! And for last...

Happy new year's eve, may all your dreams come true!

[tragedykery]

the best characters are ones that suffer from a chronic case of Dramatic Cunt Syndrome

[fleshdyke]

I saw a deer rotting away on the side of the road, ribcage gaping open, sternum shattered, sagging leathery skin shedding coarse hair as decomposition sets in. Eyes and entrails long since pecked out by crows and vultures, the doe lay blind and empty, her cranium chewed open and cleaned out by reverent coyotes. Crawling with maggots and worms, she writhes.

Wildflowers bloomed tall around her, cushioning her corpse in a bed of milkweed and aster, wild lily and strawberry bursting through her drying skin and out through the cavernous hole in her body. Wasps and horseflies drink the nectar flavoured by her body, dripping sweet onto her ribcage.

A violent death unto peaceful sleep, bones crushed like brittle eggshell by steel alloy, whiplash and internal hemorrhaging as she stumbles forward and collapses into the cold ditch by the asphalt, gasping and twitching as her lungs filled with blood, shards of her ribcage puncturing her lungs, struggling to take a full breath as spots grew larger in her vision. Twin headlights barreled on, uninterrupted and uncaring as she lay dying in the ditch, the taillights of the departing vehicle bathing her in red light as it leaves. There are no other cars in the road.

Scavengers bowed their heads to her memory as they filled their stomachs with her body, gorging themselves on cold offal, worshipful as they licked congealed blood off the ground. A necessary sacrifice to the good of the many; her agony sustains them. They don't know anything else. She sleeps, quiet and alone, in the ditch by the road, as she decomposes. Her eyes, plucked from their sockets by hungry birds to be fed to their hungry chicks, no longer saw; she slept in peaceful darkness.

I wondered what she dreamed about. I wondered if she could still see, in her mind's eye, the life she dreamed of. I wondered if all she could see anymore was the wriggling of maggots in her skull.

I wondered if the deer on the side of the road left behind a herd, maybe a fawn, waiting patiently, nestled in tall grasses, for its mother to return. I wondered if it, too, had fallen prey to the great metal maw of a passing vehicle as it, hungry and cold, searched for its mother. I hoped not, but I know better; deer don't often practice crèches.

I felt kinship with her, in a way, a deer left for dead next to the country highway, carved out empty and left gaping. I saw myself in her in the way she died alone, ignored, rotting from the inside out as cars passed by, the way she was vulnerable, defenseless; she had no way to defend herself against her fate. The scales were tipped against her, the battle lost as soon as she took her first step onto cracked asphalt, doomed beyond her own comprehension and her killer's capacity to care. She had no antlers to defend herself. She didn't stand a chance.

A faceless figure in a nondescript truck, anonymous in the atrocity of death, with no witnesses and no guilt for what they had done. Perhaps I'd already passed them on the street. Perhaps I'd already wished them a good morning. Perhaps I'd done the same with others.

It was almost comforting, in a way, to see such a visceral and grotesque representation of myself, flayed open snd hollowed out and left to rot. It reminded me there were others like me, even if they were roadkilled deer. In the aftermath of catastrophe, I, too, lay broken and gasping, immobile as I watched the world pass me by, no one stopping to notice my agony. I supposed it wasn't quite as obvious as that of a deer, trembling and bleeding from the mouth, branded hot in the shape of a car's front grill. It was confusing, still. It certainly felt more than obvious.

I dreamed of coyote teeth tearing me apart, pulling out my organs as I watched, passive, of vultures picking at my skin, grunting in veneration as they ate me to the bone. I dreamed of crows eating the scraps left behind, pecking at my face and mouth, pulling out my eyes and tongue, rendering me blind and mute. I didn't mind; I hardly had use for them anyways. I dreamed of dandelion blooms crowding my airways, airborne seeds filling my lungs until I choked, and growing from my body again.

I dreamed of love, of prostration and black birds bowed in supplication, owing me their lives, surviving at the price of mine. I dreamed of love, of sickly sweet devotion, like the smell of decay. I dreamed of love, of poisonous butterflies drinking down the nectar of my body's wildflowers, of dangerous beauty. In my dream, I watched the jays snap up those sweet butterflies, bright wings crunching and shredding within the predator's beak, only for the eaten nymph to reappear as its bitter poison burns the jay's oesophagus, vomiting up the offensive prey. The butterfly is not saved. The butterfly is still dead, half-digested and broken in a small puddle of the bird's mucous, but the jay learns; the butterfly's death prevents others.

I dreamed of love, like the coyote and the badger that found my corpse one night, forty million years of evolution between the two, but perfect teamwork nonetheless. The two arrived together and left together after they'd had their fill of my lungs and heart. I wished them well on their journey and waited for the next scavenger to find me.

I hoped the deer on the side of the road found the same peace in death as I had. I hoped she found her closure in the scavengers who worshipped her. I hoped the faceless figure in that nondescript truck faced their retribution and I hoped the faceless figure in my hazy memories faced the Old Testament judgement I so wished.

As I accepted the deer into myself, let the shape of her rotting body brand itself on my mind (reminiscent, almost, of the brand of a car's front grill on her flank), I felt her dreams assimilate with my own. I felt, suddenly, the desire to walk along country highways in the dark, the desire to know what waits on the other side of the road, the desperation so strong that I couldn't stand to wait for the rumbling beast to pass. I felt the awe of staring into blinding light, larger than me and near incomprehensible. I understood why deer stopped in the middle of the road. I'm sure anyone else would, too. The first contact of the car's front grill to her (my) body felt something like love, like the embrace of the only one who could stand to have me.

I thought about the crows that picked off the smaller pieces of flesh missed by the larger scavengers. I thought about the sweet adoration between two black birds as they passed my eyeball to their mate, the pure devotion between them as they preened one another, beaks coated in congealed blood. Their love is a living thing, a separate entity, powerful and writhing. It occupies the crows entirely, not unlike parasitism. Their chicks will grow from my scavenged flesh, insatiable, fledging for the first time above my drying skeleton. To fly had always been a dream of mine, and now it is actualized by those young black birds, fulfilled as they hop unsteadily from branch to branch, their parents watching over them protectively. How lucky I am to witness this. How lucky I am to learn, firsthand, the depth of that love, the endlessness of life, how it begins again, and again, and again.