But Like - Blog Posts

Hi guys!! I'm Cherri, Welcome to my art blog!! Want me to draw something, or have a question! my ask box is wiiiiddde open! don't be shy!!

I do reserve the right to deny requests, and i will only draw pieces that i am interested in, but feel free to check by sending me a dm, or popping in my ask box!

Looking for something specific?

#legend of zelda

All of my legend of zelda stuff should have this tag! I have drawn some fanart for the fanfiction 'The Cursebreaker'. if you're after that its all under the tag #The Cursebreaker by rebornofstars

#disney twst

disney's twisted wonderland! all these works should have this tag!

#svsss

My scum villain art! Its really old stuff, so i would prefer you don't look at it too much haha, but it is there.

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i also, have a straw page! please feel free to ask questions and send in art!

( I finally got around to changing my username, its now cheriate! it might be subject to change in the near future, but for now, its still me!! you can find all my old work still be under the tag #berriicherry but from now on i will be tagging things with #Cheriate, #Cheriate's art)

do i spy an Epic The Musical Antinous SIMP? 🤔🧐🫵 :0

Oh no! They've found me! 🫢🫣😶‍🌫️

:0

Ask me any and all, I'm bored.

Wanna be nosy? Here's your chance.

0: Height 1: Virgin? 2: Shoe size 3: Do you smoke? 4: Do you drink? 5: Do you take drugs? 6: Age you get mistaken for 7: Have tattoos? 8: Want any tattoos? 9: Got any piercings? 10: Want any piercings? 11: Best friend? 12: Relationship status 13: Biggest turn ons 14: Biggest turn offs 15: Favorite movie 16: I’ll love you if 17: Someone you miss 18: Most traumatic experience 19: A fact about your personality 20: What I hate most about myself 21: What I love most about myself 22: What I want to be when I get older 23: My relationship with my sibling(s) 24: My relationship with my parent(s) 25: My idea of a perfect date 26: My biggest pet peeves 27: A description of the girl/boy I like 28: A description of the person I dislike the most 29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend 30: What I hate the most about work/school 31: What your last text message says 32: What words upset me the most 33: What words make me feel the best about myself 34: What I find attractive in women 35: What I find attractive in men 36: Where I would like to live 37: One of my insecurities 38: My childhood career choice 39: My favorite ice cream flavor 40: Who wish I could be 41: Where I want to be right now 42: The last thing I ate 43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately 44: A random fact about anything

Oh yes, I’ve been thinking about it whole day. Actually it’s so interesting that even though it’s such an obvious parallel and it’s such an important parallel in Y and D relationship I’m so invested in Yashiro’s impotency as a symptom of his own psychological health and his process of healing and letting pieces of his trauma to his consciousness that the “one and only” trope in that aspect is completely secondary to me. Not even secondary but a play on that trope even. And Y’s reaction to Doumeki’s questions about it makes it even more evident. It’s not a revelation to him, it’s not about “getting together” after revealing the secret. It’s much more about the expectations which Yashiro seems to be so aware. I mean, he in a way seems to be aware of the trope (and that’s so amazingly meta). The whole conversation about his orgasms, his “body reactions” to Doumeki seems to sadden him. And I know it has many layers to it and the sadness also consists emotions and thoughts about Doumeki and their relationship but it seems mich more loaded and much more about being reduced to a body for the nth time. Also there seems to be a need even from Yashiro to be only his body. To trust it and even reduce himself to its reactions cause it would make things so much easier and he’s been doing that for such a long time that it’s a safe mechanism (“safe” meaning a coping mechanism which enable you to survive in a least painful way in your current circumstances). But he’s aware that he can’t do that. It’s not that simple and he’s too far in the process of processing trauma to ignore the internal conflict. To ignore every contradicting aspect in his emotional reactions and his bodily reactions to reduce it only to his relationship with Doumeki. It’s about himself. About his “inability to change” even though it’s such an evident symptom of healing. But he can’t be understood, he can’t satisfy even himself, he can’t be “a good slut”, he can’t be “Doumeki’s woman”, he can’t be neither. He’s stuck. As always stuck in-between space.

i'm aware that yashiro's inability to get an erection during and after the time skip is heavily playing into the whole "doumeki is the only one" narrative, but i don't think it's that simple

gojo "love is the most twisted curse of all" satoru gonna be speechless when yuji saves megumi with the power of love. bc it's no secret that megumi n yuji are clear parallels to gojo and geto. but this time they're going to break the cycle. they're going to get out of the cog mentality. they're going to change the very foundations of jujutsu society. these are the themes that gege has fleshed out so well, that man knows what he's doing fr

So I don't necessarily know how I feel about ghoulcy yet,,,, but it's hard to deny the subtext when the show bestowed upon cooper the title of "radiation king" (he so is though) (mr the ghoul) (as in the very first ghoul??) and gave lucy the title "atomic queen" (they were so real for that) (my beloved queen)

Like what are we doing here people

so i just came back from a walk and there was a couple with a dog

when they said called the dog by its name i thought it sounded weird

but then i heard them say it again

the dog was fucking named vriska

@effable-as-f okay uncalled for XD

Cover; Raison d’être

Illust by Alkallier & Story Prompt by @fandomfuntimem

Synopsis: Jason goes to investigate a new gang that’s been going rampant, what he found out was not anything he had initially expected. [Prompt Link]

I hope you don’t mind if I respond to your comment — but honestly, same! One FP left and all of a sudden, I want nothing to do with anyone else. BPD literally sucks, it’s hard for me to have healthy relationships with out therapy ):

BPD goes brrr when it comes to developing crushes in everyone I met— insane

@thatboifastparkway DUDE DID YOU LIKE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY POSTS THIS SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME

Me: hey, can I get some zero hurt all comfort shit under the Transformers tag ?

ao3: lmao no that don’t exist 💀

what do you do when you start to feel like a sugar/trust fund baby????

help. me. please.

it feels wrong.

😭😭😭😭😭

I don't even remember them.

and they just do this.

imagine receiving 1000 + dollars from a person you don't remember. like wtf??? wtf are you doing? I'm thankful, but like... why? for what??? I'm confused. I don't remember getting presents for no reason. I'm not fit for a trust fund baby role. I'm literally the family's greatest disappointment. I can't spend money left and right like a sugar baby(even if i have enough money for that). I'm literally the opposite. why are they giving me money? I feel distressed about it. I'm gonna cry.

and like I don't do anything special

why do strangers keep giving me presents?

help. I really don't know what I do wrong in life.

I WAS ABSOLUTELY GOBSMACKED WHEN MOON SAID THAT- 💀

I THOUGHT HE DESPISED THOSE SHIPS 😭 LIKE 'AINT NO FUCKING WAY, AYO! WHY YOU THINKING OF THAT?! ANDRIGHT NOW?

ig money gator doesnt like moon that way lmaoaoaooao(i cant draw monty for sh—)

"mY bOdY, Hiz ChoIce!1!!" "wE nEeD tO Goe BaCk In ThE pAsT, EmbRAce TrSditIOn" "___ DonT DeSErVE RigHTs!11"

broski your litterally the reason we have THREE OUTTA THE FOURTEEN AMMENDMENTS TRYIN TO REMIND YALL UN-EVOLVED BOOGERBRAINS THAT WE ARE ALL EQUAL

Why do you persist? After everything I’ve done.

Because I promised you!

erm hey chat… it’s been a while..

hopefully i’ll be more active on here in light of recent events because fuck trump and he’s gonna fuck up whatever he does in office bc he’s a racist sexist homophobic fascist communist piece of shit molded into a human shape and thrown into a bucket of orange paint after reading Mein Kampt

sorry 4 da rant hopefully i’ll get to meet some wonderful people on here and get back into writing :)

Oh… OH NO-

Am I the only person who doesn’t associate an OC with a mother mother song

Is it just me

Because I’m starting to think so

having popular songs be really accurate to your ocs is so hard... "name a character playlist without mother mother challenge" SOMETIMES IT STARTED WITH THE HAYLOFT A-CREAKING. ALRIGHT? SOMETIMES IT STARTED IN THE HAY

*eating disorder recovery montage set to All Star by Smash Mouth*

Breath as Influence and John in the Epilogues

Breath is probably one of the better understood aspects. “What is it?” someone asks – and the whole fandom is like, “Oh, Breath is about freedom and wind and detachment.” Which I don't disagree with. But I think most people miss a key piece of it – Breath as influence.

I'm no seasoned classpector, but I am a Mage of Breath, so I feel like I have a deep and personal understanding of Breath, particularly because of how it has manifested in my life. Yeah, I know, claiming I'm an authority on the subject because of my self-imposed alignment within a fake typology system makes me sound like an asshole. But I'll have to ask you to trust me, because if I start talking about my own experiences, I'll sound like even more of an asshole.

Anyway, let's kick this off with the official description of Breath, per the Extended Zodiac:

In summary: the Breath-bound are flexible, driven, detached, and maybe a little self-centered. Also, other people tend to get caught up in their personal development, which tends to make them good leaders. But the most important thing here for the point I'm making is this:

others ... feel inspired by them.

This word, inspired, has been rolling around in my brain for the past few weeks, because of its connection to Breath. Hey, did you know that “inspire” comes from Latin spirare, meaning "breathe"? And if we include the Latin prefix in-, it becomes "breathe into."

The Breath-bound have an ability to breathe into, or inspire others. They're not aware of it – after all, they are just living their lives for themselves. But wherever they go, they are inspiring people. Or, more accurately, they are influencing people. Actually, the influence of Breath goes beyond just people. I could even get meta with it (and I will. I apologize in advance). But let's start small for now.

Tavros Nitram

So, Tavros. Page of Breath. Pretty much all of Tavros's contributions to Homestuck as a story happen as a result of someone doing something to him. Vriska paralyzes him, which kickstarts the whole FLARP cycle of revenge arc. And again when the truce is broken in Act 5 Act 2, it is because Vriska kills Tavros. If this doesn't sound like influence to you, you're right. Tavros has very little influence. He's a Page, after all, and if there's one thing I know about Pages, it's that they're weak as shit until they reach their "true potential," which is pretty much always something stupidly overpowered. Y'know, like Jake overpowering Jade's first guardian powers. That was pretty batshit, I'd say.

But Tavros's contributions don't end there. He actually does reach his true Page-y potential right at the very end of Homestuck, when he gathers an army of ghosts – honestly, probably every single ghost in the furthest ring – by just talking to them. Was this something of a punchline to a very long joke? Probably. But it is also a pretty good example of the kinds of things Breath players typically do.

On a meta level, though, this argument kind of falls apart, because... As far as I can tell, the army of ghosts doesn't really do anything. Nothing important, anyway. Lord English's defeat is pretty much entirely at the hands of John, Dave, Davepetasprite^2, and alt!Calliope in the body of Jade, as described in the Epilogues. The ghost army just isn't relevant, in the end.

But you know what is relevant? Vriska.

Half the people reading this just groaned, I can feel it. Why are we talking about Vriska, a Light player, on a post about Breath?? I hear your question and I raise you this: Why the fuck is Vriska so obsessed with Breath players???? Personally, I think it's because she has an innate sense for their passive ability to decide what's relevant.

But before we get into Vriska, let's talk about John.

John Egbert

John, Heir of Breath. The protagonist of the story. In the context of my thesis of "Breath as influence," isn't it interesting that the protagonist is a hero of Breath? And even beyond that, he's an Heir, a class typically interpreted as "becoming" their Aspect, or "inheriting" it. If you find my argument compelling, you could even say John is the influence that drives the story. Which is exactly what a protagonist does - after all, what is a story without a protagonist?

This question is actually addressed in Homestuck, kind of. At some point in Act 4, Terezi manipulates John into visiting his denizen early, which gets him killed. The story is left without its protagonist, and progress grinds to a screeching halt. Jade doesn't enter the Medium and presumably dies. The reckoning never happens. Dave and Rose are trapped in a doomed timeline. They lose contact with the trolls. For what is a world without the breeze, without air, but a place of complete standstill? The story needs John to continue. Okay, it needs Rose and Dave and Jade just as much. But it's interesting that the story makes a point of John's death being the turning point that makes this particular timeline doomed.

Okay, sorry for the wait. It’s Vriska time. Vriska's driving motivation is to be relevant. She does everything in her power to steal the spotlight, which may or may not be related to the fact that she's a Thief of Light. Again, I'm not an experienced classpecter. I only really have a surface level understanding of Light. But I'm getting off topic here.

In Act 5 Act 2, Vriska starts talking to John. Why? Well, partially because she wants to compete with Terezi, who is talking to Dave. But there's also the fact that she wants to be the force responsible for Bec Noir. And also for John reaching god tier. And everything relevant really??? She's really fucking good at being relevant, I'll give her that. Or at least presenting the illusion of relevance, but that's a big topic that I think I should save for another day. Another essay, maybe. The point here is, John has a tremendous amount of influence over Things That Happen just by existing, and Vriska knows it. Maybe she torments Tavros because she senses the same sort of potential in him, but that's probably a stretch.

In any case, this is baby shit. There's better evidence than this. Let’s talk retcon powers.

You could argue that the retcon powers are separate from John's abilities related to his classpect, and on some level you'd be right. But in a game that "knows" everything that is going to happen, I have to question if extraneous powers like this are taken into consideration when Sburb "decides" what classpect it gives a player. I feel similarly about Jade's First Guardian powers. Teleportation is a pretty space-y power, in my opinion. And definitely one that... "breaks rules," I guess. Among all the other things First Guardians get to do. Once again, I'm no classpector. But Jade getting access to First Guardian powers upon reaching God Tier strikes me as very Witch of Space-y. I feel similarly about John's retcon powers - they strike me as very Heir of Breath-y.

And not just because I view Breath as influence, though that is definitely the most obvious way the retcon powers could be interpreted as Breath-y. Even on a surface level, they're pretty Breath-y. When John first talks to Roxy, he gives a whole spiel about everything he's been to up until this point, most of which is obscured by "blah blah blah." But little phrases come through occasionally, and when he starts talking about his brand new retcon powers, he uses the phrase "UNSTUCK FROM CANON." Which sounds a lot to me like "freedom from the narrative." But maybe more telling is the fact that John's quest as an Heir of Breath requires that he use his retcon powers. Getting rid of the oil, freeing the fireflies - his quest as established at the very beginning was always intended (in universe at least; I can't speak for Hussie's intentions) to be solved by his retcon powers.

So retcon powers are at the very least Breath-adjacent. What’s that got to do with Breath as influence? I’m sure you see where I’m going with this. Retcon powers are basically the ability to do whatever the fuck you want to any point of any timeline. I’d call this influence but I’d sound silly, actually. It goes way beyond influence. It’s way less subtle. I guess you could call direct intervention like this influence at its most powerful. Well, almost. There’s one step above this that John never really taps into. Which brings us to...

The Epilogues

For better or for worse, I fucking love the Epilogues. I think Candy, on its own, is a fantastic and surreal deep dive into a mind high on depression. And as for Meat, I’m an absolute sucker for metafiction and narrative fuckery. I eat that shit right up. My favorite anime is Princess Tutu, etc., etc. This is your warning: Yes, this section will contain evidence toward my claim that Breath is influence. It also doubles as an Epilogues analysis. It kind of turns into one at the end. Sorry, but I needed to get it out of my system.

So, in case you missed it, the step above retcon powers that John never taps into is direct narrative control, like we see Dirk engaging in throughout the Meat side of the Epilogues. The fact that Dirk is revealed to be the narrator of Meat begs the question: who is narrating Candy? It’s never outright stated, but it’s probably alt!Calliope. Unlike Dirk, alt!Calliope doesn’t have an agenda, as far as we’re aware. So why is Candy so fucked up and weird? Why is everyone out of character? I know this comes as a shock, but: it’s probably John’s passive influence over the narrative.

Before the Epilogues even begin, John’s been wasting away in his house all day, every day. He’s depressed as hell. Sort of dissatisfied with how artificial and "perfect" Earth C is. Some have suggested he also feels disconnected from the post-retcon versions of his friends, and I think this holds some merit. It would explain why he feels disconnected from reality in Candy.

(Candy, 11)

Depression colors your view of reality. It darkens some parts, brightens others. People who look happy will appear so to an unsettling degree. Fucked up things will appear even more fucked up. Depression ups the contrast, if you will. And that’s pretty much what happens in Candy. Jane’s pretty bad in Meat, but she’s like a billion times worse in Candy. Jade causes some awkward moments in Meat, but she is pretty much a sex pest in Candy. The positive parallels are a bit harder to find, since Meat pretty much sucks too, but you could speculate that John perceives Rosemary to be happier together than they actually are, so they’re, like, uber happy together in Candy and raising a daughter and shit. It is John’s warped perception of reality that in turn warps it beyond recognition.

This isn’t just me theorizing, by the way. There’s pretty compelling evidence to suggest that this idea is accurate to what is happening. It’s pretty clear in a conversation between (Vriska), who has just arrived on Earth C via the black hole in the furthest ring and her descendant/clone Vriska (aka Vrissy in HS:BC). The two of them stare up at the sky, pointing out clouds and what they are shaped like, when (Vriska) has a realization.

(Candy, 37)

John’s influence over the reality is so absolute, even the clouds bend to his will. I think Vriska only notices it because she’s a new arrival to Johntown. It isn’t long before she’s absorbed into the John-ness of the timeline. And then, she goes on to say exactly what I’ve been saying this whole time. Remember earlier, when I said Vriska knew that John had an incredible amount of influence over Things That Happen?

(Candy, 37)

Yeah. That wasn’t speculation.

The last thing she says, though, that he’d be relevant even if he was dead, is actually a reference to Meat. So let’s talk about it!

As we know, Meat is narrated by Dirk. Dirk’s narrative style is a lot of fun for me, personally. He’s sassy, kind of an asshole, and has no time for bullshit. The second John puts that meat in his mouth, he gets to work, pulling the strings of his little puppet show.

(Meat, 1)

He wastes no time putting words in John’s mouth, writing him out of the story of Earth C as quickly as possible. It’s almost with a sense of urgency that he pushes John to complete his mission. Which is probably necessary, seeing as the sanctity of canon relies on him going back to tie up the loose end that is Lord English. But I think Dirk has ulterior motives. I don’t think Dirk has the ability to impose his will so overbearingly with John around, because for some reason, John’s power of passive influence prevents him from doing so. Is John more powerful than Dirk, even after his ascension to Ultimate Selfhood? Maybe. I certainly think so.

But John’s pretty gullible. He’s easily influenced. He doesn’t have the same safeguard around his own mind, for some reason. Or maybe he does, and it’s just taken Dirk this long to crack him? This is speculation at this point. Not important.

So Dirk eventually kills John. Why? Well, first of all, it’s harder to control the narrative with him around. Though I speculate that’s not very important to Dirk anymore since he fucks off to who knows where around when John comes back. I think, more likely, Dirk finds John’s influence on the narrative unsavory. I mean, just look at Candy. What an absolute disaster of a timeline. Maybe his awareness is such that he knows that letting John live will result in a similar degradation of his friends’ personalities as he knows them. I can’t really say one way or another. It’d explain why he wants John’s body on the ship with him, though. Y’know, to make sure he never gets revived. And yes, he wants him on that ship. He pretty much tells Terezi outright to captchalogue his body before convincing her to join him.

(Meat, 35)

There’s one problem, though. I don’t think John being dead even erased his influence on the narrative?

(Meat, 36)

Right there at the end:

The gentle breeze is all she can hear. It’s louder than my voice, and in some understated way, makes my case for me more persuasively.

I don’t think there’s any other way to read this than the breeze representing John. This is a literal manifestation of John’s influence. I guess it could be symbolic – like Terezi doing a “what would John do?” kind of thought process. But I dunno, Dirk doesn’t strike me as that kind of narrator. Besides... It’s a little too on the nose. Say what you will about the Epilogues, but I believe a great amount of care went into them. This certainly isn’t a throwaway line.

Conclusion

Okay, sorry. I really went off the deep end into Epilogues Analysis Land there. You may have noticed that I didn’t talk about Homestuck: Beyond Canon. That’s partly because I haven’t gotten there in my reread, but mostly because I’m not yet convinced that it has – or will have – nearly the level of plot consistency of its predecessors. We’ll see, I guess.

In any case... Breath as influence, huh? There’s probably more evidence for this hidden away somewhere. I probably could have talked about Rufioh. I didn’t want to though. I also probably could have pointed out the word inspire from the Extended Zodiac thing and called it a day, but instead I blacked out and wrote this. Weird!

If you read all, uh... *checks word count* 2.7k words of this??? Jesus fuck. If you read all this, thank you for reading. I’m open to feedback! I’d love to discuss some of this more! Especially the Epilogues stuff. I have a million thoughts. Bye!

I got possessed by some art demon I think and spent the last

*checks time*

5 and a half hours drawing a guy.

Anyways, here's the guy, isn't he great?

He's covered in blood for normal reasons

team conrad but tbh i would date jere instead yk

the agony it brings me to be a carlos fan AND a logan fan amidst this season is killing me. cuz i want to see both of them on the grid next year PLEASE

sometimes i wonder why i chose to be a ferrari and williams supporter

A World Without Him

Chapter 9

(TW a lot of blood, slight suicidal thoughts, and unsettling imagery)

Tang knew he was no longer in his bed. The calm darkness was replaced with an atmosphere of suffocation: like if he were to move even an inch, he would trigger something to happen. Everything just felt wrong.

He already knew this wouldn't end well for him. Every time he ended up in this dreamlike state, it always ended up in him getting dragged some way or another. He didn't think he could handle something like that again. Not right now.

But he also knew whatever was in store for him would always begin eventually; no matter what he did, something always happened to him. So, he decided instead of sitting still with his eyes closed like a sitting duck, he would try to figure out where he was first, at least.

So then, he slowly opened his eyes to a strikingly blank room. A very different start to most of his dreams. A steril, white space greeted him; the room had no windows and yellow fluorescent lights. The bland seats and decor didn't take away from the emptiness he felt from this place.

The room felt suffocating. He didn't know if he could keep still. He couldn't breathe.

Suddenly, a door opened to his right, and a tall man with a white coat walked out steddily. His footsteps were silent, and his badge was weirdly in focus with the letters MSH spread across its side in golden ink. Was there a door there before? I didn't think...

But before he could continue his train of thought, the doctor(?) spoke to him curtly. "I'm afraid he had lost too much blood. We couldn't find the rest of his leg, so we couldn't even try reattachment without a donor. We tried our best to keep him stable, but we weren't able to save him." The voice was muffled: as if it were underwater.

"...What?" Tang asked hesitantly. He really didn't know what he's doing here in the first place. Also, he didn't even know anyone who was in the hospital to dream about! The last thing he remembers was his quiet walk to the library and...

Barely anything had happened after that, with the norm of setting up shop at the library, and then lounging around with a few people checking out the occasional book. Everything was fine! The last thing he even remembered from work was rambling and sharing comics with... Allan.

Allan, Allan.... what happened? I dont know why I keep thinking about him...

Something horrible suddenly hit Tang's nose, causing him to cough a few times. A sickening smell of copper and rot started coming from the door. He shot his head towards the source and saw how it was now mangled and covered in red splotches. Blood gushed out from under it as the crimson liquid encompassed the entire checkered floor.

Tang was all but frozen in place as all he could do was stare in horror. Then everything came rushing back like a punch to the gut. Blood had slowly dripped down onto the parking lot and stained its path a striking red. The blank look in his eyes as he was rolled away to who knows where-

Oh my god, ALLAN!

Tang then sprung out of his chair and rushed past where the doctor used to be, splashing the red onto his pant legs as he ran without care. As soon as he made it to the rotting door, he slammed it open and saw many nurses standing eerily still, parting for him and making a straight path ahead down the long hallway. Their eyes were blank as they stared into his head.

But he didnt notice. All he could think about was running. Getting there in time before something happened. Getting there before they were gone. Getting there before they STOPPED BREATHING-

He could feel the red slowly creep up his ankles. As he kept running faster and faster, the blood slowly rose higher and higher with him. The nurses surrounding him began to wane as the walls got closer and closer. They seemed almost like statues.

That was until Tang saw it at the end of the long hallway. A hospital bed holding a thin figure with a slowing heart rate. The slow beeps echoed throughout the hall. The remaining nurses around him then started to melt into crimson mush as their eyes pierced into his back.

Tangs eyes widened, and he somehow forced himself to go faster. "Allan! Allan, please respond!" He pleaded, continuing his sprint to the still figure. The shapes of its body remained eerily still and unresponsive to the noise.

No. No, no, no. Not again. I can't have this happen again. No. You have to get up. Please.

"Please get up, Allan! I know you're in there! Just wake up!" Tang yelled as he got closer and closer. The red on the floor was now rushing against his legs while rising faster and faster.

Up and up it got as Tang kept running for what seemed like an endless hallway. The blood was up to his calves at this point, but nothing was hindering his descent in the slightest.

That was until something tried to grab onto his pant cuff from under all the red. Tang didn't notice the slight tug at first, too busy putting one foot in front of another.

That was until more tried to do the same.

FUCK. Why now why now why now!?!?!? He had finally noticed after the hands lifted above the murky crimson surface that were trying to grab onto more than just a pant cuff.

The hospital bed was now nowhere in sight; it had faded from view. Now it's just an endless hallway full of blood and shining red hands grabbing at him from under the bloody floor.

His stress levels had hightened as the blood began to rush against his legs, causing more force to push him back into the hands. Even through his hysteria, Tang knew he couldn't keep the pace for much longer. More and more hands kept slinking up from the crimson depths that he doubted if he could even make it to the next step.

And he was right.

A sudden burst from the ground threw Tang and a wave of red back towards the now hundreds of shining hands. He landed on his back as he was blinded by the crimson liquid. The shockwave of red flew over him and he was submerged; he choked on the metalic substance as he was thrown further and further back.

When he was finally dropped harshly onto the bloody concrete floor, the hands had disappeared, and all that was left was him, the red hallway, and the thing in front of him. Blood dripped from his brow as he looked up to what had thrown him back.

And now he wishes he had kept his eyes closed. He didn't know what he was looking at, but he knew that it was dangerous. The humanoid figure stood floating above the gap in the ground with a continuous buzzing, which was the only thing he could hear.

The area where it came from was now stretched beyond recognition; the floor had been splintered badly where the thing stood. The red now rushed forward instead of against him, slowly pouring into the new hole that goes to... somewhere he doesn't want to know.

Tang could feel it rush past him and lulling forward, though the force never moved him even an inch. It felt more like a familiar breeze than gallons of blood rushing forward into some vacant void. His breaths were slow and deliberate as they echoed in his ears.

He could've collapsed right then and there if he could. The red ran out through the hole, and all that was left were puddles instead of the hulking mass it used to be.

But something just always took away any peace he had. Before he could even think of closing his eyes, the figure in front of him burst open with a loud bang. "AHHH!" Tang had yelled in surprise as the pieces flew over him.

Wait, flew?

He quickly looked back to where the body had been before. The top half is completely gone and buzzing loudly with something crawling around the figure.

You have got to be kidding me... he thought, exasperated. He could see each and every individual bug on the body; everything glowed a soft orange that burned into his gaze.

Tang was tired. Tired of these stupid dream sequences, tired of whatever God decided to make his real life hell, and tired of how he wasn't able to stop any of it. Everything went on without him. Nothing would change if he were gone. Nothing would be different now than if he had just disappeared under that rubble.

A sudden woosh from in front of him was all the warning he got before swarms and swarms of orange surrounded him. They crawled along his clothes, whispered into his ears, pulled him up and forward.

His heartbeat echoes through his head as he suddenly knows he had moved. Now he was falling. Falling and falling through the endless void under his dreams. Nothing would stop his descent. Nothing would be there for his two fall onto. No one was coming for him. He closed his eyes.

...

...

...

He suddenly felt warmth surround him. A solid surface under his weight. Something had caught him.

Tang could feel the surface move, bringing him up and out of wherever he had been before. The air felt lighter, almost as if the world was encompassed in the suns rays.

Yet everything still felt restless. An anticipation so great is glowered on the prison itself.

Prison?....

Suddenly, an unwelcome voice entered his head.

Yes. Why don't you open your eyes for me? I've been waiting for something like this, you know.

And Tang didn't know why he followed along. Why he felt compelled to open his eyes and look forward. Yet he did so without hesitation.

He was in the palm of its hand. The orange, glowing hand that held him like a delicate flower. Dark shackles were attached to its wrists, slowing its movements.

Yet that didn't stop it from looking down onto him with its big, beady eyes. It seemingly looked into his soul, seeing through him with an almost smug air around it. The cicada head and the multitude of wings behind it just added to the unrealness of the situation.

But then it just smiled, or what could even be considered a smile for something like that.

You're perfect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the first time in a month, Tang felt well rested. He eyes were glued shut with exhaustion, yet his mind felt clear. His memories if the dream felt foggy, yet calming and nostalgic.

He had checked the time on his dying phone and even found out that he had gotten up at a reasonable tike for once! Given, it was only 7:00 AM, but this was better than usual.

Then that peace, his so fragile peace that seemed to always get broken every chapter, got shattered when the smell of smoke entered his nose.

That got him up and out of bed as he quickly threw off the sheets and saw how the edges of his blanket had been burned slightly. The wisps of ash flew up and out the open window; a slight breeze flowed through the room, taking them away.

He could only try to pat the charred edges with his hand to put the small flames out. The window had been opened again, and he swore he had closed it yesterday. But then again, almost everything from yesterday was hazy.

After he made sure his blanket wasn't going to burn his bedroom down, he slinked out of bed and threw the blanket into trash beside the kitchen. It bunched up over the already overflowing can, but stayed in place.

Tang carefully maneuvered around his ruined living room, dodging any stray pieces of glass or splinters sticking out of the carpet. He jumped straight onto his couch and reached for a random book on his messy floor.

The one he had picked up was one of his favorites: The Origins of JTTW. This had always been the most accurate in a sense of real archeology used in the sources along with many scholarly accounts backing the piece up.

It was also his first book in his collection. Something from a long time ago that someone else definitely would have kept in a box or charity.

He absent-mindedly flipped through the pages: seeing the same images and the same words in the same order over and over again tends to give you a sense of what to expect.

Then, a familiar face came into view. Something that jolted his foggy memory. A bipedal, golden cicada in long robes stood as the focus of this page. The many limbs and wings attached to its body couldn't be mistaken for anything else as the rest of his dream faded away into his mind.

Tang's eyes shot wide as he continued down the page. The power of resurrection. A disciple of Buddha. A being of chaos. A sign of transition and renewal.

Things kept getting more complicated as he finished reading the page. He knew that dreams were random: that they didn't have any special meaning behind them. And yet, why did this feel so important?

He didn't want to think too much about it. But now that he's... got more free time, he wants to figure out what's going on: why he keeps having these dreams, how he was able to split that table in half, and the voices he kept hearing after LBD's defeat (that had gone silent recently). He wanted answers.

I don't know what's going on. Heck, I don't even know if I'm going insane or not, but I'm going to find more. I need to figure out what's wrong with me.

And with that new stack of determination, Tang prepared a small backpack (where did his messanger bag go?) and headed off back outside with a new goal I mind.

Hopefully, this trip will be the first of his kind to go somewhat smoothly.

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I watched the '03 movie yesterday, 'Turtles Forever', and LOVED IT!! It was super silly and gave the last bit of closure I felt like we needed, but uh.. they used the t-word TWICE. And in one part, MIKEY WAS TICKLED OFF SCREEN. LIKE- WHAT?? 😭😭😭😭

quiet moments together (zuko x oc) 🤗

You wanna know what surprises me but also doesn't?

The fact that in the year of our Lord 2024, people still ship

A 13 year old lil boy and his 1,000 year old demon butler.

hehe made this for a school tutorial

Yass queen

also sry for not posting again

The Rehabilitation of Death

Chapter 20: The Winds of Change

For their second crusade into Anchordeep, Lambert and Narinder have the (unfortunate) experience of running into Midas. Pushing into the God of Death for information about his past with his siblings -of Kallamar's former life and a treasury resembling a ballroom- proves to have consequences when Narinder starts to pry into their own.

When coming upon a relic, he offers them an opportunity they would not have expected from him: teaching them how to absorb divinity like the old gods have, and to restore their ability to cast curses.

In every scenario, there is a notable change. Emotionally, how they speak, physically even.

The Lamb is scolded by a rabbit for losing sleep. The God of Death is listening more than they are aware. A duo returns to the cult grounds after missing for over a month.

(Narinder and Leshy have started fighting. Break it up before someone gets hurt.)

Chapter Wordcount: 19,479 | Read the Tags | Happy Reading!