"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

https://ncode.syosetu.com/n5534co/
https://www.novelupdates.com/series/re-tale-of-a-hero/
https://forums.animesuki.com/showthread.php?t=141085
I don't really post much but I just want to know if someone in this sub already read about this isekai which for me one of the decent ones out there unfortunately it's not much translated.
It's a WN and have more than 2k chapters of main story and 1k+ chapters of sidestory back in earth.
Genre:Isekai,Harem,Fantasy,Scifi,Tragedy?(Flash back),PoV,Mystery
Main plot A whole school is transported to another world with our mc in it. Surprisingly enough all amenities are still working including water, electricity and sewage. People don't just get powers yhough amd yhey need to learn things to survive. The twist is the MC actually already get isekaid in this world , he even brought the former demon lord with him and is disguising as a student(she's his lover and she's not the only one)and is thinking of going back after creating the magic to do so, he thought it's a little bit early but surprised that he is transported back 500 years in the future. He now plans on guiding the whole school to survive in the background while hiding his powers, that mind you he doesn't really mind if discovered but it's easier for him if they don't know much about it( chaos will ensue if they think he can bring them home just because his op)
Characters: You can check the characters here but I'll mainly talk about MC Kaito Amane, the MC, normaly is a chill dude and level headed his your typical normal black haired mc the only difference is his been describe to be handsome instead of the usual loser mc has a circle of friends but is not one of those every body in school knows him type of popular. That is until he stops restricting his magic then he becomes brash and a little bit arrogant but not the douche type arrogant, just the confident one , he also is a battle maniac even if he doesn't want to admit it, and surprisingly this is actually his real personality the reason for him being so calm and collected type or quite type in his suppressed state is because mana is directly link to the psyche and suppressing it also suppresses his emotions or atleast lessen it.
Socially the guy know how to make friends, he hates slavers to his core (because of past experience) and think owning a slave is one of the worst thing a human can do(depending on how the slave state though , he understood that slaves can only survive as slave sometimes). On the Harem aspect of the story the guy is a chad , no rape (there's just that one time when schatach rape him because she's stronger that time), he don't engage sexual activities with minor(his older than he looks but there's a reason why he still go to highschool) and he does his best to givr time to each other harem mems(going on date and hanging out not just sex) and most of his relationships are actually just natural. Aside from that his a solid homie and us actually wingmans some other guy friends too.
The Story Story is freaking long, and slow burn fights Don't happened much but interactions are gold, when there's fights though it's actually epic and the power system is mwah frech kiss( I won't spoil this because this is one of the best parts although the different power systems are laid slowly). It has different PoVs and The MC don't just steam roll the problems and it make sense, the characters are very distinct to each other and have their own personalities. This WN have other guys not just the MC and not just MC harem and not everyone falls inlove with the mc. Something funny is that one classmate has his own unwanted harem and Kaito gets a feeling of comraderie( Kaito is not supposed to have a harem at first but the other worlds sense of value and sense of duty leads him to having one). Andy favorite part of the story os unveiling Kaitos past because every new thing we learned about Kaito new questions pops up. The story is also linked to earth which is cool. The PoV changes is one thing I enjoyed to here the PoVs are not meant to show the mcs opness (only sometimes) but to build the world to others eyes or just to show their daily life. The tone can change from a drop of a dime at one time it's fun and all and yhe next time you know theres death. The world itself is intriguing and the history for the 500 years that has beem skip is one of the biggest mystery in the story.
I think that's the point I caan think for now. I love it and the author is releasing regularly theres even a yime that he releases 3 chaps a day. It's a solid story that every isekai lover will love( I think ?)so give it a try.

👹The Adharmapala (Asuras) are a group of powerful beings that have renounced their place in the Hindu pantheon. The Adharmapalas are worshipped for their strength, courage, and protection. In traditional Hinduism, they are considered pure demons.
👹They represent the raw forces and the unconscious mind, and are associated with the cycles of destruction, war, rebellion, murder.. To receive their blessings, they are worshipped by fire with alchole sacrificial blood mixed with oil, beef, pork, buffalo, and human. Adharma deities are not part of traditional Tantric practice either. While many Tantrics accept the story of Chandi Path, and the devis overcoming evil, we do not accept it as is. They are approached through Asurachara (Vamachara of Asur).
👹They places of worship: cremation grounds shmashana,mahashmashana, bhuta bhumi, rakshasa bhumi, chaurastra, jalasthal, vana, giristhal, prachin mandir
👹havan samagri Blood oil, black sesam, barley, wheat, black rice, liquor, meat, datura, akand, lime leaf, chili leaf, kali kusha, kali bilva
👹asan human skin
👹These lords have an incredible dark side, known for their fierce wrath and destructive tendencies. They can unleash chaos and devastation upon those who cross them or fail to show proper respect. Be careful, their horrid consequences if not appeased correctly, they may demand sacrifices in exchange for their favors. Approaching this path, you must be prepared to face darkness and accept it as your home.
Joi asurkarnath 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

Recommended watch: XG vs Falcons game 1, G2.iG vs Liquid game 1
Note: No meta section because there were too few games. I included the portraits for G2.iG vs Spirit but I wasn't able to watch the series.

Lower Bracket Quarterfinals

Spirit vs Boom

https://preview.redd.it/hvg5ywry8b1d1.png?width=500&format=png&auto=webp&s=bc480066d32d8f7ca8b14c2d90441ab0f9e33a4c
Both sides were neck and neck in terms of networth in the early to mid game despite Boom boasting a better kill count. The game turned in Spirit's favor in the 27th minute when the fight for the second Rosh saw Boom use their big ultimates and only got 1 support kill for it while they had 3 casualties including Naga & Enigma. Spirit would get the Aegis and most of the momentum. All 3 cores on Spirit would become huge while only Naga scaled well for Boom. The introduction of hex on Lina meant quick exterminations. The Pango was a recurring victim of Lina's fiery show. The Enigma was never given a chance to have a game-altering Black Hole. Boom on top of being beaten down by Slardar and Lina had an enormous Chrono problem which they don't have an answer for. Once all 3 cores on Spirit had their BKBs the fight went one way. This was an outmatch. Spirit 1-0 Boom.
https://preview.redd.it/jqxs06i19b1d1.png?width=500&format=png&auto=webp&s=8f48387a825ae4a290bc5b5d928c9a72666d462b
Boom felt powerless against the onslaught that came their way. Bristleback, Dragon Knight, and Doom kept charging relentlessly. Boom tried to offer some resistance but they got run over. Pakazs' Gyro valiantly participated in the fights but he died in each one. Solar Bind & Corrosive Haze were countered by the upgraded Ink Swell. Yatoro's Bristle was unanswered and he had no problems taking his team to the next round. Spirit 2-0 Boom.

Liquid vs G2.iG

https://preview.redd.it/e7e99iq89b1d1.png?width=500&format=png&auto=webp&s=961347ff80cf525c743bc78bd9e3f9340c23a394
This was a pretty back-and-forth game but it was Liquid who did most of the initiative. By the 52nd minute, Liquid had brought down 2 lanes of racks and were attempting to get Megas but they got deterred by G2.iG. Liquid still looked like they had the upper hand as their side had the necessary tools to shut down Weaver but all it took was one moment of brilliance in the mid lane where Weaver + Rapier & Disruptor with Aghs caught & killed 3 overzealous players. With no buyback on Monkey King, the Dire were able to demolish Radiant's base and get the dub. This was G2.iG snatching victory from what looked like a game Liquid should have won. G2.iG 1-0 Liquid.
https://preview.redd.it/r1h9pzxa9b1d1.png?width=500&format=png&auto=webp&s=151e7862956d4536b61615f88c24136ca6c03642
This time around, the roles were reversed. Liquid were playing from behind and G2.iG were the ones on the front foot. Liquid tried the recipe from the previous game of buying a Divine Rapier on their carry (Luna) and it did deter the opponent momentarily but if you keep letting your opponents take multiple swings at you, one haymaker is bound to hit and knock you out. The Radiant were stuck in their base and the Dire had complete control of the map. G2.iG bided their time, waited for Roshan, and only sieged with an Aegis. With Mega Creeps, 3 obese cores, and only Luna being the real threat to their side, G2.iG waited for the Glyph to go down and simply went all in on the throne. There wasn't much Liquid could do except type gg. G2.iG 2-0 Liquid.

Falcons vs Xtreme Gaming, Upper Bracket Finals

https://preview.redd.it/uhku7byg9b1d1.png?width=500&format=png&auto=webp&s=5e7e1e355ae14734658d37e150a2432428f29657
Things were looking grim for XG. Falcons won every lane. Bristleback was killed 3 times before 10 minutes. Falcons didn't let up. They kept hunting and they kept finding the fights. XG were relegated to responding to what Falcons were doing on the map. But somehow, Ame found his farm and one wrong jump on the Bristleback changed the complexion of the game. A smoke play from FLC at minute 25 ended as a disaster when they jumped Bristleback who was farming in his triangle. FLC were not able to bring anyone down in the chaos. XG took advantage and brought down 4 on the side of FLC. Falcons would learn their lesson and go for Bristle's teammates at the next hunt. FLC would find 3 successive kills on their next smoke play. In a 2v5 scenario, FLC tested the high ground and got a kill on Ame but they overstayed their welcome as the rest of XG respawned before they could take any significant objective. FLC could not exit cleanly and lost 3 lives. XG would then trade out their mid barracks + tier 2 top + their tormentor for an Aegis on Viper. The game became passive and this benefitted XG (Midas on Viper + Bane). Marci eventually got to her BKB and at that point, even Davion didn't want to mess with her. A skirmish in front of Radiant's Tier 3 ended up as a complete annihilation with Marci getting 3 kills. FLC then smoked up, only found Ame, and decided to have a go at him. They couldn't finish him off (déjà vu). Marci once again went for the Enigma to make sure no Black Hole could be used. It was a 4 for nothing and that was it. This is an incredible statement from XG. They lost all their lanes and were getting beat up early on but their resilience and ability to come back was a joy to watch (Having xinQ's Marci helps too). XG 1-0 FLC.
https://preview.redd.it/ozq57czi9b1d1.png?width=500&format=png&auto=webp&s=fc98df6a449720bc8926e012c4338f777cce3422
I was hoping for a closer game but XG were just too good. Falcons didn't have as good of a start as game 1 and XG were more than happy to slowly take over. The Bane and Earthshaker were such good picks against the opposition. The Black Hole could be stopped from a distance. The Pango had to be careful with his positioning against the Fiend's Grip. The 3 cores on XG had incredible damage which synergized very well with the control of their supports. Ame had a relatively free game. Once he had his Daedalus, taking objectives and the lives of his enemies became a breeze. Falcons weren't given any openings so XG continued their unbeaten streak to 12 games. They have yet to drop a single game in this tournament. XG 2-0 FLC.

G2.iG vs Spirit, Lower Bracket Semifinals

I wasn't able to watch the games but it looks like Spirit gave them a drubbing.
https://preview.redd.it/q9wcn2en9b1d1.png?width=500&format=png&auto=webp&s=0f43f4a050b07f1f1902c871aa61312cd053bd83
https://preview.redd.it/dmp99sxs9b1d1.png?width=500&format=png&auto=webp&s=afca27f88a4d81eaa84cbdc790ad3e4ec54b57c5

I know everyone’s probably sick of theorizing which Evanuris is paired with which Old God, and it’s gonna be answered soon anyway, but I still figured I might as well fill out the bingo card and see how close I get. Plus, I also like seeing other people’s pairings and their reasons for them.
One pairing I’m less confident about is June and Toth. Toth’s high priest was called the “forgewright of fire” and so that automatically makes think of smithing and forges, which would connect immediately to June since he’s the elven god of crafts. But Sylaise is also a really good match since she’s the elven goddess of the hearth, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s actually connected to Toth. Ultimately though, I think her domain makes more sense with Andoral’s because most of the time, slaves are tasked with domestic chores, such as cooking and cleaning.
As for the others, I think Ghil Dirthalen is right about Elgar’nan being connected to Lusacan. He killed his father the sun, and the second image is what his codex entry from the wiki says happened after. “The world was covered in shadow,” and at the end, the sky was filled with stars. Elgar’nan literally brought night down onto the world, plus I think Ghil is right in that “beetle” is just in too much of a leadership position to be Falon’din.
As for Falon’din, I also agree with Ghil in that he’s connected to Urthemiel, but not JUST because of the Dalish origin triad statue in Origins. In the unused elven mosaics she found in the DAI files, there’s a headshape of an owl, which is Falon’din’s animal, and it has 3 points exactly like triad (3rd image), which has strong connections with Urthemiel since the triad statue can be found in the Architect’s layer, who was his high priest. I know a lot of this is based on cut content, but honestly, I don’t know who else pairs with Falon’din well. Maybe death and beauty are connected because the ancient elves were immortal and so that meant they died young and beautiful? I don’t know, but I’m going with it.
Dirthamen with Dumat is obvious: secrets are kept by being silent. Plus, his mosaic literally shows him with his hands covering his mouth (fourth image), so this is just a no-brainer. I admit I don’t know which headshape he would be though.
Ghilan’nain (and Sylaise) ended up being my last two I got stuck on, but the two old gods I was also stuck with seem to fit neatly with them. I think Ghilan’nain being the mad scientist she was with combining creatures and making monsters goes perfectly with the old god of chaos, Zazikale. His high priest was even called the “madman of chaos,” so the mad scientist thing Ghilan’nain has going for her just works. Also, I used to think the “Horns” headshape was June, but now I’m pretty sure it’s hers because of the mural from The Missing comic (fifth image). People immediately thought it was Ghilan’nain and Andruil for good reason, because not only is it two women wearing headshapes associated with the elven gods in a romantic pose, it’s also a very unequal pose. The woman on the right is kneeling in reverence for the women on the left, and we know Ghilan’nain was originally a follower (therefore, slave?) of Andruil. Plus, the kneeling woman has much lighter hair, and Ghilan’nain was described as having snowy white hair in a codex entry, so I really don’t see how it can’t be her as the “Horns” headshape.
Andruil with Razikale is also one I’m less confident about. This is more so just a result of another process of elimination. Everyone’s sure that “Beetle” and “Moonhead” in the mural of the Dreadwold attacking the Black City are Lusacan and Razikale because those are the only old gods still sleeping. Plus, one of the figures look more feminine, and we know that Razikale was the only female god. With “Moonhead” being connected to Razikale that way, and the woman wearing the same headshape the The Missing mural probably being Andruil (again, image 5), this one kind of just seems like it was answered for us. I’ll admit though, before I settled on this, I could not stop going back and forth on whether I thought Moonhead was Andruil or Ghilan’nain, especially because DAI and the Horror of Hormak in Tevinter Nights have set up the latter so much. But still, if I am somehow wrong about Moonhead being Andruil, then my second choice is still Ghilan’nain, especially because of that picture of a giant sea monster with the same headshape in the Dreadwold marketing (image 6). Ghilan’nain made sea monsters, but then again, I’ve also seen people use this image as proof that Moonhead is Andruil since it has a burning spear described to be hers. Like I said, it could really go either way, but The Missing mural was the tiebreaker for me.
And that’s my line up. Feel free to disagree and tell me why, I love theorizing on this!

And I know some people in here struggle with that process of when their ex disposes of them but I am just wishing for it.
The hyperfocus on me has led to physical assaults against me and my pet, being emotionally and verbally abused, financially strained, stressed out, endangerment of our infant, stalking that switched between general obsession and ill intent, taunting and mocking, etc…
Right now I’m all bad - painted black but I know he would still come to me if I told him too and that frustrates me.
It also worries me.
Many people have died at the hands of exes with BPD or been seriously maimed. And I know that’s extreme because it can happen to anyone but I do worry. I want him to let go and move on so I can sleep peacefully again. Ever since I met him it has been chaos and turmoil. 3 years worth and I’m tired.

I'm currently working on a modernized Kaiba deck for the meta and was wondering what I could use in both the main and extra deck? Hoping to not have to shift the card pool too much, but I am allowing banned cards as this is one of the decks I'm building to play with a friend of mine. The cards I have so far are:
NORMAL/EFFECT MONSTERS:

• Blue-eyes White Dragon x2
  
• Black Luster Soldier - Envoy of the Beginning
  
• Maiden with Eyes of Blue
  
• Priestess with Eyes of Blue
  
• Master with Eyes of Blue
  
• Breaker the Magical Knight
  
• Charging Gaia the Fierce Knight
  
• Beginning Knight
  
• Evening Twilight Knight
  
• Assault Wyvern
  
• Kaibaman
  
• Paladin of Felgrand
  
• Kycoo the Ghost Destroyer
  
• Shining Angel
  
• Cyber Jar
  
• Obelisk the Tormentor x2
  

RITUAL MONSTERS: - Black Luster Soldier - Super Soldier - Blue-eyes Chaos MAX Dragon
SPELLS: - Pot of Greed - Harpie's Feather Duster - Reinforcement of the Army - Chaos Form x2 - My Body as a Shield - Divine Evolution - Dragon's Fighting Spirit - Strength in Unity - Mausoleum of White - Burst Stream of Destruction - Premature Burial - Soul Crossing - Fist of Fate - The Breaking Ruin God
TRAPS: - Mirror Force - CompulsoryEvacuation Device - Soul Energy MAX!!! - Ring of Destruction - Call of the Haunted
EXTRA DECK: - Azure-Eyes Silver Dragon - Blue-eyes Silver Dragon

Context:The Ushmengar are a Chaos warband dedicated to Vashtorr. They were initially part of the Astral Claws, but when Huron was defeated during the Badab War, they decided to forge their own path instead of following him to the Maelstrom. These Space Marines in particular were some of the first Astral Claws that the Executioners slaughtered during the Badab War, and the Warband was formed by the survivors of their rampage.
In this short story, the Executioners, having just finished a Penitent Crusade, were hunting for the Ushmengar. They had managed to pinpoint them to a Mechanicum forgeworld, and the Death Speaker of the chapter, an Astartes named Razel, a Librarian named Igikura, and a group of Bladeguard descended onto the planet. When they found the Chaos lord of the Ushmengar, named Kagal, this is what happened

The Chaos Space Marine cocked its head to one side, eyes boring into Razel’s. When the Death Speaker was within reach, it nodded and spread its arms wide. The Executioner swung his crozius. The fractal form of the Heretic Astartes shivered as Sharur connected with it. There was the roar of a vast furnace underscored by the shriek of overtaxed bellows, the clanking of gears and the hammering of pistons, and the Ushmengar vanished like smoke blown in the wind, leaving only a chorus of trailing screams.

After this, Razel and his men continued to go deeper into the Manufactorium and ended up fighting a bunch of other Ushmengar

The Death Speaker swung his crozius, but the Chaos Space Marine dodged the attack. The strike went wide, cracking the side of the furnace. Razel punched out with his pistol and sent his opponent’s bolter flying off. Undeterred, the Ushmengar ripped off a piston hammer from a slain ogryn and arrested Razel’s downward swing. Muscles strained, his sinew coils contracted and he drove the Heretic Astartes onto one knee. The Ushmengar’s composure broke and he roared at the Death Speaker. With a burst of vigour he regained his footing and shook Razel off. Burst fire from the Executioner’s pistol stitched an arc across his helmet, which cracked, exposing his metallic face beneath. The delineation between the organic and inorganic had become blurred to the extent that they had become one and the same. Oil bled from ruined armour and unclean flesh-metal.
A storm had broken out at the end of the hall. Lightning flashed, lancing out from furnace to furnace as a rain of brimstone fell. An unholy radiance pulsed in the penumbral gloom, accompanied by the skirling of bronze horns lining the altar. The light rose out of the chancel of the command fane and drifted towards the Death Speaker and the Epistolary, who had advanced ahead to the binary-etched plaza. Within the pulsing storm was Kalag.
Molten metal was siphoned off the blast furnaces, forming fiery wheels into an armillary sphere spinning around the floating Ushmengar. The skitarii shrieked in binharic as they were lifted from the raised walkways, torn towards the eye of the churning storm. They were disassembled, their flesh withering into ash whilst their bionics melded into the spinning rings upon which bleeding eyes had formed. As Kalag moved towards Razel and Igikura, a forge-vault vast beyond imagining spread out behind him, the hellish vision overlapping the reality of the manufactorum. There was the roar of colossal furnaces, the heave and gasp of monumental bellows, and the clang of countless hammers, thudding pistons and clanking gears, underpinned by the screaming of tortured souls fuelling the forges.
Whereas Kalag’s form had been ephemeral before, a charcoal sketch jumping in and out of focus, now it was wholly corporeal. His armour was burned black, running with unclean oils and unguents. Mechadendrites writhed from between the plates like fungal growths, straining for some dire unity with the emergent daemonic mechanism. Around him were the rings of the armillary sphere, which were both armour and a mechanism to unravel reality, spinning faster until they were a blur as the warpsmith approached them
Up ahead, Igikura stood alone, defiant. The crystalline matrix of his axe blazed, focusing his power before it lanced upwards into Kalag. For a moment, the spinning rings slowed and fire raged down upon the Epistolary, enveloping the Executioner. The apotropaic sigils upon his armour shone migraine-bright as they earthed the worst effects of the warpsmith’s attack. The Librarian’s mind was in the throes of a fever dream, the backwash of the Ushmengar’s barrage bruising his soul.
Sensing his brother’s agony, Razel rose and swung, striking again. A resonant peal shivered through the armillary sphere to no discernible effect.
Kalag, whose attention had been thoroughly upon Igikura, glanced at him, his quasar-like gaze boring into Razel’s own. A high-pitched screech preceded the obliteration of Razel’s helm display. His armour felt heavier. The fibre-bundle muscles tensed and servos halted, keeping him upright. Straining, he raised his hands and took off his helmet. When he beheld the ashes of penitence streaking down Razel’s defiant face, the warpsmith sneered. ‘Lapdog of the False Emperor.’ His voice thundered like the hammer of a god striking an anvil
Razel bared his teeth in response, glistening with blood. ‘You were supposed to die at Badab.’ ‘Oh but you see, I did die. We were marooned in the immaterium after our warp drives failed. Bereft, betrayed by a rotting Imperium and an unkind god bedecked in fool’s gold. Where was Lufgt Huron then? His promises and his lies? We no longer need him, nor your carrion god. We have a new divinity to serve!’ Kalag turned towards the growing portal behind him, his arms encompassing the hellish scene and the towering daemonic figure with scythe-like wings who was looking down at the Executioners with an amused interest. ‘Behold the Arkifane! Our salvation! We will deliver this forge-temple of Mars to him!’
"Brother…" Igikura’s voice was straining with titanic effort. "I will not make it to the end." The Death Speaker growled. The Librarian forestalled him. "Spare me your protestations. I will distract him and hold the rings, but I am not strong enough to make the final blow. That falls to you. May your own Penitent Crusade be over after this."
Igikura’s mind soared in the warp like the rising sun. He burned with immaterial energies. Coruscating lightning cascaded down his limbs and flared off him in streamer arcs, with a branching spark earthing itself in the Death Speaker’s crozius. One last parting gift from brother to brother.
Razel wasted no time. With the warpsmith’s attention upon the Epistolary, his armour was free. He trudged forward, pausing only to pick up Igikura’s axe whilst hefting his crozius. Breaking into a run, he leapt upon one of the stilled rings. Razel hurled the force axe. It spun, blazing, still saturated with Igikura’s psychic might and sacrifice. The blade wedged fast into Kalag’s breastplate, tendrils of darkness slithering out of the wound. A few moments later, Razel was upon him with Sharur, imbued with a shred of the Epistolary’s empyric strength. The warpsmith raged, blocking the Death Speaker’s strike with a cog-toothed, daemonic axe. Mechadendrites speared through Razel’s armour, biting deep into his flesh. Gurgling blood, the Executioner drew the mace back and slammed it forwards, again and again, shattering his foe’s armour in a frenzy until his corrupt essence could no longer be contained. The unravelling of Kalag was like that of a collapsing star. The death throes screamed out from his unwinding body, black flame rising between the plates, his flesh unmade into ash.

What if the Darkness became sentient? What if after Bae's death and being held captive by Zelena, Rumpel essentially fed the Dark One curse enough pain and turmoil to develop a mind of its own? Instead of him actively doing all the shit he did he's blacking out and waking up in weird places doing weird things, and getting more and more scared as time goes on
He tries to do something to help, but the Darkness takes over and purposefully screws it up and he has no explanation as to why
He's wondering where this hat came from
No, he didn't meet Elsa yesterday, what are you talking about? Of course he remembers Anna, he never said he didn't. No, Emma, we never had that conversation
Why is the dagger in his pocket, he gave that to Belle?
Who's heart is this? Did he take that out? What is Hook talking about?
He should really say something to someone, but every time he tries he seems to dissociate from the conversation, which is a word he got from Dr Hopper when he asked about it
When Belle banishes him, it's what the Darkness needs to fully take over and we have the Queens of Darkness and Darkness itself just wreaking havoc for sake of it, no grand scheme, no overall plan, just sowing discord and chaos and feeding on the pain
And then when Emma takes it on, it's not the standard Dark One Curse, it's souped up, strengthened and more potent than ever before - of course she struggles so badly
Even if you don't like Rumpel, just think of what the actor could have done with it

Do your tastes in fiction run a bit darker than most? Do you find yourself rooting for the bad guys in movies? Do you enjoy a good tragedy over a happy ending? If the answer to any of these questions is yes, this post is for you.
If you're anything like me, you've probably found yourself chasing the Abercrombie dragon after completing The First Law, standalones, and The Age of Madness trilogy, only to find that nothing else quite scratches that grimdark itch. Whether it's Joe's unforgettable characters, sharp dialogues, or epic battles, there's just something missing from other offerings in the genre.
So, as a thanks to all the authors of various recommendation threads from which I've picked up some wonderful books, I've put together this list to share where my wanderings have taken me and to hopefully point others like me in the right direction.
In no particular order:

1. Assassin's Apprentice - Robin Hobb (fb: Royal Assassin, Assassin's Quest)
   
2. Dune - Frank Herbert (fb: Dune Messiah, Children of Dune, God Emperor of Dune...)
   
3. The Road - Cormac McCarthy
   
4. Blood Meridian - Cormac McCarthy
   
5. The Shadow of the Torturer - Gene Wolf (fb: The Claw of the Conciliator, The Sword of the Lictor, The Citadel of the Autarch)
   
6. The Black Company - Glen Cook (fb: Shadows Linger, The White Rose, Shadow Games, Dreams of Steel, The Silver Spike, Bleak Seasons, She Is the Darkness, Water Sleeps, Soldiers Live...)
   
7. Heroes Die - Matthew Stover (fb: Blade of Tyshalle)
   
8. Theft of Swords - Michael J. Sullivan (fb: Rise of Empire, Heir of Novron)
   
9. The Darkness That Comes Before - R. Scott Bakker (fb: The Warrior Prophet, The Thousandfold Thought, The Judging Eye, The White-Luck Warrior, The Great Ordeal, The Unholy Consult)
   
10. Prince of Thorns - Mark Lawrence (fb: King of Thorns, Emperor of Thorns)
    
11. Gardens of the Moon - Steven Erikson (fb: Deadhouse Gates, Memories of Ice, House of Chains, Midnight Tides, The Bonehunters, Reaper's Gale, Toll the Hounds, Dust of Dreams, The Crippled God)
    
12. Blood Song - Anthony Ryan (fb: Tower Lord, Queen of Fire)
    
13. Metro 2033 - Dmitry Glukhovsky (fb: Metro 2034, Metro 2035)
    
14. Red Rising - Pierce Brown (fb: Golden Son, Morning Star, Iron Gold, Dark Age, Lightbringer...)
    
15. The Winter King - Bernard Cornwell (fb: Enemy of God, Excalibur)
    
16. The Traitor Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson (fb: The Monster Baru Cormorant, The Tyrant Baru Cormorant...)
    
17. Horus Rising (Warhammer 40k) - Dan Abnett (fb: False Gods, Galaxy in Flames)
    
18. Xenos (Warhammer 40k) - Dan Abnett (fb: Malleus, Hereticus, Ravenor...)
    
19. Red Sister - Mark Lawrence (fb: Grey Sister, Holy Sister)
    
20. The Ember Blade - Chris Wooding (fb: The Shadow Casket)
    
21. Priest of Bones - Peter McLean (fb: Priest of Lies, Priest of Gallows, Priest of Crowns)
    
22. The Conspiracy Against the Human Race (this was the basis for True Detective - Thomas Ligotti (fb: Songs of a Dead Dreamer)
    
23. Kings of Paradise - Richard Nell (fb: Kings of Ash, Kings of Heavan)
    
24. Empire of Silence - Christopher Ruocchio (fb: Howling Dark, Demon in White, Kingdoms of Death, Ashes of Man, Disquiet Gods)
    
25. We Are the Dead - Mike Shackle (fb: A Fool's Hope, Until the Last)
    
26. The Black Prism - Brent Weeks (fb: The Blinding Knife, The Broken Eye, The Blood Mirror, The Burning White)
    
27. Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City - K.J. Parker (fb: How to Rule an Empire and Get Away with It, Practical Guide to Conquering the World)
    
28. Blackwing - Ed McDonald (fb: Ravencry, Crowfall)
    
29. A Game of Thrones - George R. R. Martin (fb: A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows, A Dance with Dragons.......pls George)
    
30. The Way of Shadows - Brent Weeks (fb: Shadow's Edge, Beyond the Shadows)
    
31. Chasing Graves - Ben Galley (fb: Grim Solace, Breaking Chaos)
    
32. Soul Hunter (Warhammer 40k) - Aaron Dembski-Bowden (fb: Blood Reaver, Void Stalker)
    
33. Berserk (Manga) - Kentaro Miura
    
34. Beyond Redemption - Michael R. Fletcher (fb: The Mirror's Truth, Swarm and Steel)
    
35. The Warded Man - Peter V. Brett (fb: The Desert Spear, The Daylight War, The Skull Throne, The Core)
    
36. The Barrow - Mark Smylie (fb: Black Heart)
    
37. Winterbirth - Brian Ruckley (fb: Bloodheir, Fall of Thanes)
    
38. Scourge of the Betrayer - Jeff Salyards (fb: Veil of the Deserters, Chains of the Heretic)
    
39. The Lies of Locke Lamora - Scott Lynch (fb: Red Seas Under Red Skies, The Republic of Thieves...
    
40. The Name of the Wind - Patrick Rothfuss (fb: The Wise Man's Fear...)
    

If you enjoyed this list, please drop some recommendations! I'm always hunting for more quality grimdark.
EDIT:
Thread Recommendations:

1. Cahokia Jazz - Francis Stupford
   
2. Tomorrow's Children - Daniel Polansky
   
3. Between Two Fires - Christopher Buehlman
   
4. Pale (web serial) - Wildbow
   
5. The Band - Nicholas Eames (Kings of the Wyld, Bloody Rose)
   
6. Firefall - Peter Watts (Blindsight, Echopraxia)
   
7. The Faithful and the Fallen - John Gwynne (Malice, Valor, Ruin, Wrath)
   
8. The Bloodsworn Trilogy - John Gwynne (The Shadow of the Gods, The Hunger of the Gods, The Fury of the Gods)
   
9. The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever - Stephen R. Donaldson (Lord Foul's Bane, The Illeath War, The Power that Preserves, The Wounded Land, The One Tree, White Gold Wielder, The Runes of the Earth, Fatal Revenant, Against All Things Ending, The Last Dark)
   
10. The Gap Cycle - Stephen R. Donaldson (The Real Story: The Gap Into Conflict, Forbidden Knowledge: The Gap Into Vision, A Dark and Hungry God Arises: The Gap into Power, Chaos and Order, This Day All Gods Die)
    
11. The Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny (Nine Princes in Amber, The Guns of Avalon, Sign of the Unicorn, The Hand of Oberon, The Courts of Chaos, Trumps of Doom, Blood of Amber, Sign of Chaos, Knights of Shadows, Prince of Chaos)
    
12. The Broken Earth Trilogy - N.K. Jemisin (The Fifth Season, The Obelisk Gate, The Stone Sky)
    
13. Dungeon Crawler Carl (Lit RPG) - Matt Dinniman (Dungeon Crawler Carl, Carl's Doomsday Scenario, The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook, The Gate of the Feral Gods, The Butcher's Masquerade, The Eye of the Bedlam Bridge)
    
14. Gnomon - Nick Harkaway
    
15. The Gone-Away World - Nick Harkaway
    
16. Lonesome Dove, Streets of Laredo, Dead Man's Walk (Western/Abercrombie influence) - Larry McMurtry
    
17. The Blacktongue Thief - Christopher Buehlman
    

A list of some mainline characters (including Sonic Prime because SEGA considers it part of it so) that are missing from the game as of May 18 2024. They're all characters who: - Are skilled in fighting because I don't know if they'd ever add characters like Vanilla (who showed up in Drummer Cream's promo. Well, her hand that is.) although I'd love to see that happening. - Have had relevancy in the stories OR have been playable in a game.
It does not include transformations, skins or classic versions of characters already in the game.

• Mecha Sonic Mk. I
• Mecha Sonic Mk. II
• Silver Sonic?
• Mighty
• Ray
• Fang
• Bark
• Bean
• Honey
• Witchcart
• Bearanger
• Hocke-Wulf
• Carrottia
• Great Battle Kukku
• Speedy
• Dr. Fukurokov?
• Metal Knuckles
• Tails Doll
• E-101 Beta
• E-103 Delta
• E-104 Epsilon
• Mecha Knuckles
• Black Doom
• Emerl
• Gemerl
• Marine
• Johnny
• Captain Whisker
• Eggman Nega
• SCR-HD
• Erazor Djinn
• Sir Lamorak
• The Blacksmith
• King Arthur
• Merlina
• Chip?
• Master Zik
• Zomom
• Zor
• All 5 Hard Boiled Heavies
• Sticks (not from Sonic Boom but Sonic Channel, mentioned in Frontiers, not gonna discuss about that canon shabang further)
• Lanolin
• Clutch
• Rough
• Tumble
• Mimic
• Smithy
• Claire
• Slinger
• Belle
• Dr. Starline
• Kitsunami
• Mr. Dr. Eggman
• Dr. Deep
• Dr. Don't
• Dr. Babble
• Chaos Sonic
• The remaining 3 New Yoke City chars. that aren't Rusty Rose and Nine
• The remaining 4 Boscage Maze chars. that aren't Thorn Rose
• All 5 No Place chars
• Alpha Grim Knuckles
• Alpha Grim Amy
• Alpha Grim Rouge
• Sage
• Ariem
• Trip
• The Forces Avatar?

https://imgur.com/a/ChGLMxn
I want to first say thanks to everyone in this community for purchasing pieces of my collection so far. You've been able to help me, and family tremendously. I still have a few more items I need to sell to be in a good spot, and as a thanks to all of you I'll be dropping the price on the majority of what I have left. I'll also give FREE SHIPPING to everyone interested in buying something.
Allison and Lillia Set 1 & 2 (DVD) - $25
Aria the Animation, Origination Boxsets (DVD) - $40
Beck Mongolian Chop Squad Boxset (DVD) - $100
Black Heaven Boxset (DVD) - $20
Bleach Set 1 & 2 Boxsets (DVD) - $20
Burst Angel Boxset (DVD) - $25
Chaos Head Boxset (Bluray) - $25
Daily Life of Highschool Boys Boxset (Bluray) - $50
Danganronpa Boxset LE (Bluray) - $35
Dragonball Z , and GT Boxsets (DVD) - $45 [SOLD]
Dragonball Z Namek Saga Boxset (DVD) - $100
Fate Stay Night Boxet (DVD) - $60
Full Metal Panic, Fumoffu, 2nd Raid Boxsets (DVD) - $60
Genshiken 1 & 2 Boxsets (DVD) - $50 [SOLD]
Get Backers Complete Series Boxsets (DVD) - $40
Ghost in the Shell Arise Border 3&4 [Bluray] - $20
Girls High Boxset (DVD) - $15
Grenadier Boxset (DVD) - $15
Gungrave Boxset (DVD) - $40
Gun Sword Boxset (DVD) - $40
Hellsing Ultimate Steelbook Vol 1-3, Bluray LE, EP 9-10 Bluray - $75
Kannazuki no Miko Boxset (DVD) - $25
Kashimashi Girl Meets Girl Boxset (DVD) - $15
Kino's Journey Boxset (DVD) - $25
Kirameki Project Boxset (DVD) - $15
Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya Boxset (DVD) - $60
My Hero Academia Season 1 LE (Bluray) - $30
My Hime, My Otome, My Otome Zwei (DVD) - $40
Noir Boxset (DVD) - $35
Gundam Movie Boxset (DVD) - $30
Pani Poni Dash Boxset (DVD) - $60
Puella Magi Madoka Magica Rebllion JP LE (Bluray) - $30
Rage of Bahamut LE Boxset (Bluray) - $40
Red Garden Boxset (DVD) - $70
Rental Magica Set 1 and 2 LE (DVD) - $40
Rumbling Hearts Boxset (DVD) - $15
Sailor Moon R Season 2 LE (Bluray) - $35
Sakura Wars TV Collection Boxset (DVD) - $40
Shakugan no Shana Season 1,2,3 Boxsets (Bluray) $80
Shiki Complete Series S.A.V.E (Bluray) $45
Solty Rei Boxset (DVD) - $35
Speed Grapher Boxset (DVD) - $60
Stratos 4 Boxset (DVD) - $35
Strawberry Marshmallow Boxset (DVD) - $35
Strawberry Panic Complete (DVD) $15
Teknoman Complete Collection Boxset (DVD)- $35
Tenjho Tenge Boxset (DVD) - $35
Trigun Boxset (DVD) - $45
Trinity Blood Boxet (DVD) - $60
Vandread Boxset (DVD) - $30
Yozakura Quartet Complete (DVD) - $30
This will be a stretch, but if anyone is interested on buying everything I'll give a big discount. Currently the lot is valued at $1995, but I would sell everything for $1500. I'll of course adjust the price if people keep buying specific items.
Thanks again everyone!

I recently beat THE Dragon in Dragon's Dogma 1, and I noticed a texture glitch. I don't have proof as of now, but I was wearing the Chaos Helmet from the black cat and during the cutscene at the tainted mountain, the texture was more on the white or gray side rather than black. But besides that, I noticed that The Dragon's eyes were subtly turning pink. I've never seen that before and I'm wondering if its normal or a glitch.

Saltpyre from vermintide insists they are beastman who worship a different god, and while the details in the poem where the skaven are first mention doom of Kavzar is intentionally vague we do know two things.
When all remaining survivors of the disaster in their despair turn to chaos, offering human sacrifices and performing rituals to seek aid from the chaos gods nothing happens… with the screaming bell hinted at being the cause. Shortly after the skaven appear out of nowhere and claim to be the lords of the city and all the dwarfs below are dead with the new skaven lords ruling below in their hold.
Whoever wrote this poem was probably either there or had spoken with the survivors who fled before the very end, so not everyone is being included in this account which may have been altered over the years. What if some of the human survivors had become something else?
Assuming the horned rat didn’t exist before the doom of Kavzar then someone in the poem probably becomes the horned rat and who better than the mysterious grey man who fooled them all? All of Kavzar problems started when he finished the tower with a addition of his own god, himself! (Probably) The events of the poem happen slowly at first with endless rain causing a famine snowballing into meteor showers as more people die from starvation. The screaming bell block the aid of good and evil leaving the horned rat in control?
Imagine this situation the logical answer to your food problems were stealing and cannibalism, which would have the group kick you out so lies and deceit became your trade. Whether it was gradual or sudden chaos infesting the city would have turned you into a form that best represents these traits, a rat.
Ironically these ratman would then really be the lords of the city with the black hunger that makes then ravenous a constant reminder of their sins. As far as ratman are concerned everyone in the city still belongs to them and the dwarfs refusal to help earlier and belief they were hoarding halls filled with food made these new ratman attack them and by the time they appear in the poem have likely killed all the dwarfs and eaten whatever food stores were left.
Some among them were probably chosen by the horned rat hearing his voice perhaps for showing particular cunning or because they held power as lords of Kavzar becoming over time grey seers acting on a great plan, a vermintide! But as soon as the poem ends with all remaining humans dead and eaten no food would have cause a civil war that would have destroyed any accounts made by the ratman on the doom of Kavzar and all their education and technology to be lost as most rats don’t care about history. With the horned rat plans constantly failing due to the nature of a rat… Even the name skaven is likely given to them by other races and since be adopted as if they called themselves anything else it would have soon been lost and forgotten in the constant infighting and civil wars, again most rats don’t care about history.
This is my favourite but not the only possibility, they were always rats in the city, maybe they mutated into bigger rats? Children were born deformed maybe maturing quickly into full grown skaven? But these aren’t as twisted as mine, making the choice rather then the choice being made for you is always more interesting… that the people of Kazar in their vanity to touch the heavens fell literally into a hellhole of their own making!
P.s sry for the length of this post but wanted to clue you in on the key parts doom of Kavzar for those who hadn’t read it I have a post somewhere with the full story! Having the skaven being once human implies even they can be redeemed? It also is a warning that humans are more capable of cruelty than any other race in warhammer… on a bad day….

Physical build: 170cm, black hair, brown eyes (with tiny mixture of green), cerebral palsy
Work: I'm currently working as a Technician in 1st-Level-Support in Dusseldorf
Hobbies/interests: Biblical Prophecies, History, video games, politics, fitness
Tell us a bit about your Christian journey:
I am an Orthodox Christian (Eastern Christendom)
My baptism took place when i was an infant, in the Church of St. Demetrius. But like many of my countrymen, i only participated in holidays and rituals just because it is a part of the national identity. I never believed in anything. However that would change through a chain of events that led me to my conviction that i needed to revisit this ancient faith. For the sake of the reader, i will make a bulletin of events to make it easier for you.

1. Came to Germany when i was 15
2. 3 monts later i ended up in foster care
3. led an undisciplined life, be it physically or spiritually
4. The unravelling chaos in the foster care left me bittered
5. saw order in the islamic faith
6. almost converted because of insecurities
7. mother encouraged me to stay in the faith
8. began to learn about christianity in General and worked my way to Orthodoxy

What sort of person are you looking for?

1. A person who tries their best to do the right thing
2. is just
3. strict
4. cheerful
5. charitable
6. likes to stay in shape

The best way to know each other, at least from my pov, is to meet eachother online through a video call. So do not be dismayed if you don't fit everythig in the bill from the get go. That is the interesting part of growing in a relationship, again from my pov.
Age range: 18-25
Would you be willing to do long distance/relocate? I have no issues with long-distance relationships as long as we remain loyal to eachother. Relocating however, is not possible for the time being. that is not to say that i won't relocate, as i am thinking of abandoning the city life and move to a quiet and peaceful village. Wherever the Lord may wish.
May the Lord keep you all safe, regardless of where you are.

Hello we are 2TMC a 21+ community server much like Hermitcraft. We are a SMP with emphasis on being friendly (with a little bit of chaos) with other players, and trying to be a welcoming community to everyone. We are running a Semi-Vanilla server with a few terrain generation mods and additional mods that enhance the vanilla experience (see list below).
We are looking for players who will be active in game on chat and on our Discord voice channels. The server is in NA but we accept players from all around the world. Discord and a mic are required! We love to chat on voice in game but it's definitely not required! We are also youtubestreamer friendly. So if you love to play minecraft and are looking for a friendly environment where you can prank others and do community projects then send us a message! We'd love to chat with you.
Data packs on the server

• afkdisplay
• anti enderman grief
• armored elytra
• better item frames
• blackstone cobblestone
• blaze and cave's advancements pack
• coal to black dye
• charcoal to black dye
• confetti creepers
• coordinates hud
• craftable notch apples
• craftable coral blocks 3x3
• craftable gravel
• craftable bundles rabbit hide
• custom nether portals
• double shulker shells
• dragon drops
• durability ping
• fast leaf decay
• graves
• larger phantoms
• more mob heads
• mountain angels
• name formatting station
• player head drops
• real time clock
• silence mobs
• straight to shapeless
• unlock all recipes
• universal dyeing
• unpackable nether wart
• villager workstation highlights
• wandering trades hermit edition

​
Fabric mods on the server

• armor poser
• audioplayer
• cloth config api
• clumps
• enhanced groups
• fabric per player spawns
• geophilic
• head index
• just an end anchor
• keep head names
• more mob variants
• no chat reports
• player pronouns
• radio
• regrowth
• shulker+
• shulkerboxtooltip
• simple voicechat
• slimyfloor
• status
• stitched snow
• terralith
• towns and towers
• william wythers' overhauled overworld

​
Fabric mods required to join the server

• armor poser
• cloth config api
• just an end anchor
• more mob variants
• no chat reports
• shulker+
• simple voicechat
• status
• xareos minimap
• xareos worldmap

​
Server Rules

1. Be Respectful
2. No griefing, stealing, or cheating
3. Chat is English only
4. Non-Destructive Pranks are allowed (so Hermitcraft style pranks)
5. Spawn area is for a spawn town
6. Bases must be built 250 blocks away from Spawn.
7. No duping except for carpet, rail and tnt.
8. No combat logging, this means mobs as well.
9. Taking items/griefing from active and maintained ruin sites is prohibited.
10. No hacking or hacked clients
11. No using others builds, items, villagers, etc without their permission.

If you are interested in joining please fill out this application