#I can’t say it right but this is so hilarious to me because the sheer arrogance that celegorm and Curufin must have had?

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Maedhros’ abdication is so funny because every feanorian was probably salivating over his return like oOOooOoh Nelyo’s back, oh yeah we got our King now you see what he’ll do to you Nolofinwe he’ll really put you in your place huh buddy, good old Nelyo’s not gonna stand for this disrespect he’ll show you the crown belongs with us. And then

[lennythereviewer]

My favorite Kingdom Hearts fact is that one of the biggest plot-holes that Nomura has never been able to meaningfully retcon or write his way out, a plot-hole so big that it fundamentally breaks the very rules the series is written on...

Is the existence of Steamboat Willie

Let me explain for the uninitiated:

In Kingdom Hearts 2, there’s a small detour in the story involving Maleficent trying to invade Disney Castle, the home of King Mickey. She can’t step foot in the castle due to an artefact of pure light that wards off darkness locked in the basement.

Pete, who is working for Maleficent, opens a door into the past (Before Disney Castle, this land was known as Timeless River) and decides to remove the artifact from it’s place in time so it won’t be there to stop them from getting in.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy chase Pete into the past thanks to another magic door provided by Merlin, and through some shenanigans involving old cartoons and teaming up with Pete’s past-self, they lock the door the villains are using, and return the artefact to it’s proper place so it can exist in the present.

You with me so far? Pretty straightforward-ish time-travel plot right?

Here’s where it goes off the rails.

Time travel would go on to become a staple of Kingdom Hearts going forward and would come with a very strict set of rules over how it operates:

1. You can only travel to a point in time where a version of yourself exists

2. You basically give up your body to do so, and travel as a disembodied soul unless you have a vessel to inhabit

3. You can’t alter the past in a meaningful way, what’s going to happen will happen

4. You lose your memories of said trip once you return, but your actions could leave a lingering instinct on your other self that could influence their decisions

“Wait” you may be thinking “Why should anyone go through all those hoops? Wasn’t time travel super simple that first time?”

And you’d be totally right, because the existence of Timeless River completely renders all of these rules and restrictions meaningless. 

There is no version of Sora that existed in Timeless River before he step foot there, everyone kept their bodies, the trio and Pete were able to mess with the timeline as freely as they pleased, and they all very much remember their trip. 

Nomura has never been able to meaningfully explain this super simple, easy way of time travel and the more convoluted method co-existing other than a cheap-throwaway line from one of the villains saying that Merlin “broke the rules” 

The hilarious part about this line is that it implies that PETE of all characters is actually more powerful than the actual villain of the series, because Pete opened a door into Timeless River through sheer willpower and nostalgia for “the good old days”

But the all-knowing chess-master of a villain who had an evil plan several decades in the making with countless moving parts and contingencies to account for had to use the roundabout, more complicated method of time travel where a lot could go wrong.

Pete though? Dude just casually broke all the rules of time travel because he felt like it. He's just built different.

TL;DR: Steamboat Willie breaks Kingdom Hearts lore in half, Pete is more powerful than Master Xehanort, and I fucking love this beautiful trainwreck of a series you guys it means so much to me

I love Kingdom hearts so much.

[pokidot]

MANDELA — thirteen

wc: 734

Knock, knock, knock.

Loud, but not persistent. A ghastly echo that didn't fade, twisted branches scratching against one another as they resembled brittle bones. The cabin that sat in front of them was still in this sunrise, wood walls a statue in the cool air.

The woman, Kane, opened the cabin door hesitantly as her eyes made the rounds of the surrounding people. She was dressed in a long and flowy white dress that undulated in the little breeze there was, material hanging loosely as if it didn't belong on her body. You grinned in response to her confused aura, holding up Hu Tao's hands still bound together in the cuffs.

"I said I wouldn't disappoint, here I am!" You chirped, a contrast from the solemn tone you did have. “It took many…many sacrifices to get here right now, I’m desperately relying on that payola.”

Kazuha’s eyes narrowed to Xiao skeptically to mouth, ‘payola?’ to him, but even he didn’t know what you were saying. His eyebrows furrowed, sighing to himself in defeat.

Kane’s eyes moved to you, an empty gaze reflecting as if she couldn't fully comprehend the situation. You sniffed this out quick, because as soon as your smile went to falter, her mouth immediately twitched up to all of them. But it didn't seem like a smile, more so a reflex to you. "I should have had a lot more faith in you, I'm sorry. I don't have a good history with...college students."

“Spoken as if you’ve talked to college students regularly at one point?” Venti asked.

“HILARIOUS, OH MY GO—” Your laugh came out abruptly, laughing like it was the funniest joke in the world, but it quickly died down once you realized that everyone was looking at you now. Especially Kuni, with dull eyes. “Oh, uh,” You looked back at Kane’s eerie smile fixed into place. “It wasn’t a joke?”

“I don’t think it was ever that funny of one, if it is a joke.” Kuni clenched his jaw, “Why are you smiling like you’ve been practicing anyway, Tachibana? Are you even who we’re looking for?”

Venti looked rather accomplished at the very notion that you wanted to hit, putting his hands on his waist and tilting his head proudly at you.

Something about the woman unnerved the group, rightfully so, because it looked like she was mimicking an emotion she didn’t even felt. It was so uncanny valley to even watch, but you wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. “She just found out her husband’s missing, guys. Let’s keep our wits, now.”

“Could’ve fooled me, she looks like she’s enjoying the hell out of herself.” He replied back. “Seriously. Are you gonna let us in so we can see what’s going on, or are you going to make us stand out here like mindless sheep?”

“Yes, come in while scrutinizing me in front of my own house.” Kane’s smile twitched again, corners of her mouth trembling. “It’s hard to imagine for you, but I’d rather be anywhere than here right now.“

He would have believed her if it weren’t for the inane reaction and the fact that she felt like she was struggling to play a role in a play right. His violet eyes narrowed. “So…you acting like a nut job is your impulse reaction, or?”

“Oh my god,” Aether cried, covering his ears. “Stop. The voices are coming back, I can’t even hear my own breathing with how loud Andrew is in my ear.”

“Andrew better be anything other than Garfield, or I’m blowing this bitch up.” Heizou warned.

“See? He understands how this works. I’m halfway to taking the former.” And with that, his eyes scanned the area for any signs of foul play. “Fine, I’ll bite. But you better be telling the truth about his disappearance, or you’re done fucking with us and I’m driving a stake into your heart, demon.”

Kuni walked past her as he aggressively pulled Hu Tao with him, the two of them entering the home after he got in the client’s face and started telling her shit. You awkwardly looked behind to see the rest of his friends paralyzed in most likely stun.

Your lips trembled as you tried not to laugh, tears in your eyes from the sheer force. “That was so sassy yass gurl of him.”

“I thought he didn’t believe in ghosts..?” Kazuha asked.

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES || *crickets* ... this storys been out for a year and its still not done chat, it may be cooked

TAGLIST: @wisteriarain @akagism2 @murderisokayforme @d4y-dr3am3r @truck-kuns-gf

@ayoitsmarie33 @crucnhice @natsuscrustyscarf @dreamsofminnie @goj0h

@xirthia @kylexzz @dollpoetwriting @dreamingkace @strawbxrrytiger

@k1an4a @featuredtofu @neversore

[ronearoundblindly]

I just want to start this off by saying you are one of my favorite Steve writers of all time I can’t believe I just randomly found you one day. Every time I read something I think “oh this is her best” and then I go to something else and literally the same reaction so thank you of sharing this for free. The comfort reading your Steve stories give me is unexplainable.

LOL the funniest thing is I found your works on ao3 first and at first I didn’t click the tumblr there so when I found the CEO au here I was like “um excuse me who tf is plagiarizing — oh wait no same person. Thank god”

So I don’t know how you feel about writing about pregnancy and kids but Steve having to deal with that especially in the Sun Salt and Shield AU is so hilarious to me. Is there a hc you have about that? Or just in general about them getting more serious. I love that you didn’t take the easy way out and just “Splash”ify the mermaid reader.

Um🥹😚, all of this is great, and I'm not trying to just skip over all your lovely compliments (also, good looking out on the plagiarism because that issue's going around again 🥲). I just want to jump right into the headcanon of pregnancy and kids for Sun, Salt, and Shield.

This is mostly rambling. Sorry it's not well-formed, but there *might* be a chapter of fic percolating from this. No warnings. No detailed talk of pregnancy or birth, only vague reference.

Just the other day I revisited an ask about MissG/Doll not having the more humanoid body of idk-what-to-call-them classical mermaids?? And I wondered if that (the classic look) could have been a blended species from way in the past between deep sea mermaids and humans--essentially, would Doll and Steve have children that looked more like what we typically see as mermaids?

It's an interesting train of thought, and, frankly, perfectly logical. If they had a kid or kids, that's likely how I'd do it.

However--and this is a big HOWEVER,--I am admittedly not a big fan of pregnancy, kidfics, and all that 'adorable' parenthood stuff. Sounds a little cruel that way, but there you have it. I'm me. I make things more complicated than they need to be.

I would make pregnancy a different experience from humans. Doll's kind would have a different mentality toward offspring than humans. Some hilarious and/or angsty misunderstandings could ensue.

For example--because I don't think too deeply into these matters, shhhh--based on the sheer size of her whole species, I don't think deep sea mermaids visibly look pregnant like humans. Their hips simply get wider and they sort of thicken all the way through their torsos to mid-tail. Honest to goodness, humans truly just think Miss G is getting fat, but just in a 'putting on weight' way, not a nasty judgy way. In this event, and since you/G do not have the vocabulary to explain, your pregnancy goes unnoticed until it is very advanced.

To you, this is a common inevitability in the sea between mates, but there isn't the type of hoopla--for lack of a better term--surrounding the process.

So you're pregnant? Big deal?

Ummmm, wow, the wheels are really starting to turn on this, but also your species doesn't have a calculated sense of time. You live in mostly darkness (and the ambient/changing light of other mermaids' tails), so you wouldn't have any real way of explaining how long gestation for a baby is. Likely, the kid would grow super fast, too. Means Tony still doesn't know the average lifespan of your species because there are no common/known markers to describe how long your 'elders' have been alive.

Stuff I haven't worked out yet: would the child of a deep sea mermaid and a human be able to live in either native environment? That's where I'm thinking the lower-depth, classic mermaid comes into play; still has fins, can breathe air for short periods (but longer than you), probably can't handle heavy pressure for very long though (since you spend far longer in a pool, not the pressure chamber asleep, than most deep sea-ers while pregnant), and is lighter colored in scales and features than you due to the shallower water (more affected by sunlight).

I do think it would be cute for the child to have Steve's blond hair and blue eyes simply because that is unheard of in your species (as are the paler scales and armoring. I should mention that since you have lavender eyes--i.e. very light sensitive--human blue eyes are comparatively dark.

You'll notice I'm not saying son or daughter. When newborn young...I don't think anyone can tell if the child is male or female. I don't thing G's species cares, and I think you'd be very confused by how intently Tony and Steve try to figure that out. Conceptually, it simply doesn't matter at all what sex the kid is until puberty, and even then...it still sort of doesn't??

Hmm. That's all I got on this for now, but I sense I could probably come up with some interesting angst with a happy ending from it.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Not that it matters, but I love 'Splash.' I've learned that it's fine to explore fantastical things to all sorts of degrees, and as almost all of fandom can tell you, fluff is great, fluff is necessary, and fluff keeps us afloat. Big HOWEVER, it is not okay to wash away anyone's race or heritage (in this case--obviously fake--a species' culture). Be respectful. It's that easy.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@fandom-has-taken-me-hostage @leah2901 @blogbog710

[mari-the-bimbo]

so i do have few ideas, not sure if youll like them but ill still type them 😌 (no particular guys but geto and sukuna shall do the trick? geto my love 😭)

cooking with them, shopping with them, and what i think an interesting concept could be, if their non sorcerer roommate (y/n) gets into a situation with them and they suddenly develop a cursed technique (maybe it was just born because of the sheer willpower to change the situation?

im sorry if these ideas suck im literally thinking of them while pooping so they might be .. shit 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽

Cooking with Dorm mate Sukuna

A/N: I appreciate you thinking of ideas for me while pooping 😂 thank u pookie 🙏💗 And thank to everyone else ideas too! <33

With your interviews coming up and you being busy with practicing, Sukuna started to miss you, as much as the grump wanted to barge into your room and tackle you to the floor for attention, he knew the mature thing to do is to let you be, and provide any help he can. So here he was making lunch for you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets as you watched the man make lunch for you. You were definitely surprised.

Watching the big scarily sexy, pink haired man flexing his muscular broad shoulders as he cuts the onions, wearing nothing more than an apron is not for the weak either.

“Wow I didn’t know you knew how to cook!” You teased him as you walked into the kitchen, knowing damn well he can.

He side glares at you before speaking “I WILL hit you with this pan right now” he says very casually.

You laugh at his impatience, and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, stifling a laugh as you feel him slightly lean back into your embrace.

“Thank you for making lunch ‘kuna” you say gratefully into his muscular back. He hums in response, before replying.

“Make you lunch, drive you to campus, guess I’m just your personal slave yeah doll?”

“My favourite slave if that makes you feel any better” you reply.

But instead of responding, he leans further back into your embrace, but this time he puts all his heavy weight on to you, making you seconds away from being crushed by the big beefy thug.

“Ah!! Sukuna! You’re gonna crush me you big buffalo!” You complain, eliciting an evil laugh from the man, who found your tiny body trying to fight him off hilarious. “That’s the plan” he chuckles, without taking his eyes off the garlic bread he was cutting up. “Moveeee” you angrily muffle against his back which was pressed into your face.

He finally moves once he was satisfied. He smiles charmingly as you glare at him, and reaches out to pinch your cheeks, further making your cheeks puff in annoyance.

“How dare you try to crush me! I-“ your sentence is cut off as Sukuna feeds you some of the garlic bread, effectively shutting you up. “Taste good little one?” He asks as he turns back to frying the chicken. “Yup” you say with a nod.

He looks at you momentarily before speaking, “God, you’re like a baby, gotta give you food to keep you quiet”

You laugh before teasing the pink haired man. “Well that’s because I am your baby” you say with a flirty smile.

You watch him smirk as he turns off the heat, and faces you. “Oh yeah?” He says with an amused raised eyebrow.

“Yeah”

He chuckles before grabbing you and picking you up to place you on the counter top. “Pretty baby aren’t you?” He says as he inches closer to your lips. “Yep” you reply again. He grins ear to ear before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a rough kiss.

You can’t help but smile as you kiss him back. “Finally giving me some attention you brat” he says as you pull away.

“You always have my attention you meanie” you say with a sweet smile.

[funeralpartyclown]

Opinions on a bottom dale? How do think he'd feel if he saw his fem partner putting on a str4p on for him? If he saw his male partner was hung like a horse? If he was the "star" at a g4ng b4ng? We need more of kobble being a bottom, all that whimpering can't go to waste.

Going to gnaw my limbs off I need him so bad. Sorry this took me 8 million years to answer anon I kept opening it and then getting distracted and forgetting about it 💔

People who are disgusted I want Dale would have a heart attack and die if they saw any of the other characters I want. “Rock bottom” babygirl he is the tip of the iceberg

For some reason, everyone that writes about him has just unanimously agreed he’d be into butt stuff, and it’s hilarious to me. I have not seen a single person be like “maybe he’d be open to it” no, always just “yeah look at him that bitch takes it up the ass”

The sheer length of the whimpering comps people have made of him even though he had like 5 minutes of screen time because all of that was spent whining and mouth breathing.

There is NOTHING on earth more attractive though and I think (in any way but especially so if he was bottoming) he would be very vocal. And knowing you’re the reason he’s so overwhelmed all he can do is pathetically whine and squirm..

He already has a hard time breathing regularly he’d be gasping and panting so hard. He also seems to me like the type to be obnoxiously noisy in every way. And like I said in one of my other posts… he’s gross I bet he makes super weird faces and awkward loud noises.

I saw someone earlier say the end of fire fire fire hiss where he’s going “HAHH HAHH HAHH,,” (I love you you’re so right) is what he’d sound like cumming. Loud and annoying but it’s still hot because it’s him.

There is something so amusing about it. Just thought of him bottoming at all, huge man very capable of hurting you with like 50 murder victims. Much larger and or older than most of you. Begging with tears streaming down his face for permission to cum.

God I have probably wasted several hours of my life by now just talking about his dick both here and on ao3.

I haven’t written about it because this is all fictional and for fun and sillies. so why not make it a little unrealistic? But he’d probably have trouble getting it up / finishing. Maybe it would be easier for him with a little extra stimulation?

Treating him softly, rolling your hips into him from behind burying the strap fully. Hands on his hips, praising him and listening to him whine and cry every time you do.

And it would be SO fun to torment him. Overstim, edging.. seeing how far you can push him before he breaks? Watch him unravel more and more till he can’t even finish a full sentence and he’s just writhing and drooling with tears in his eyes.

[divinityunleashed]

Phoenix, let’s be real here: he's the single worst thing to ever happen to anyone who’s ever had the misfortune of crossing his path. I don’t know how anyone could look at him and see anything other than an absolute disaster wrapped in human form. Every move he makes is a calculated step toward ruining someone else’s day, and he does it with such a smug, self-satisfied grin that it makes you wonder if he has any grasp of basic decency. You'd think, with all his blustering confidence, he’d have something worth saying or some real skill to back it up. But no, Phoenix is all smoke and mirrors—a cheap trick that somehow convinced everyone he’s the real deal when he's nothing more than a circus act with no tricks up his sleeve.

This guy's ego could probably fill an entire city block, but what’s he actually done to deserve it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He walks around as if the world owes him respect and admiration, but the truth is he’s never lifted a finger to help anyone but himself. Phoenix has mastered the art of pretending to care, flashing that fake smile, making all the right noises about loyalty and friendship, but the minute things get tough, he’s the first one out the door. And let’s not even get started on how he treats people—like they’re all disposable props in the grand theater of *himself*. It’s honestly tragic watching people fall for his act, thinking they’re friends or allies, only to be tossed aside the moment they’re no longer useful.

The worst part is, Phoenix actually believes he’s a good person. Can you believe that? The audacity of it all. He acts like he’s this benevolent figure, some sort of hero in his own mind, but the reality is he's a walking catastrophe. Every decision he makes is about feeding that overblown ego of his. When was the last time he did something genuinely selfless? Oh right, never. If he’s helping someone, it’s only because it serves his own interests. Phoenix is the type to help you out of a ditch, only so he can tell everyone how generous he is, expecting praise and gratitude for his bare minimum effort. He doesn’t want to help people; he wants everyone to think he's a saint.

Let’s talk about his so-called intelligence. For someone who likes to think he's the smartest guy in the room, he sure does a lot of dumb things. He acts on impulse, never bothering to think anything through, yet somehow, he’s convinced himself that he’s a mastermind. Phoenix couldn't strategize his way out of a paper bag if his life depended on it. He blunders into situations without any foresight, and when everything inevitably falls apart, he has the gall to blame everyone else. It’s never his fault, right? It’s always because someone didn’t understand his "brilliance" or didn’t follow his “genius” plan. The sheer level of delusion is honestly mind-boggling.

And don’t even get me started on how insufferable it is to be around him. Phoenix has this obnoxious need to dominate every conversation, as if his words are gospel. He’ll talk over anyone, ignore what they’re saying, and twist every discussion into a platform for his own self-aggrandizement. If he’s not talking about himself, he’s not interested. You could tell him your house just burned down, and he’d somehow find a way to make it about himself. The guy just can’t stand the idea that something or someone else might take the spotlight for even a second.

Phoenix’s relationships are a train wreck waiting to happen. He’s charming at first, sure—anyone can be charming when they’re trying to manipulate someone. But the second anyone expects him to show real commitment or, heaven forbid, vulnerability, he vanishes. He’s emotionally shallow, never willing to dig any deeper because he’s terrified of what he might find. For him, relationships are just another performance, another way to get people to tell him how great he is. And when he gets bored, or when the admiration dries up, he drops people like dead weight without a second thought.

It’s hilarious, really, how much he craves attention, yet how empty he is inside. Phoenix’s life is nothing but a hollow shell, a facade held up by the people he fools into caring about him. Without the constant praise, without people feeding his ego, he’d collapse in on himself like the black hole he is. He’s a parasite, thriving on the energy and goodwill of others, giving nothing of substance in return. And he knows it, deep down. That’s why he’s so desperate to keep the act going—because if he ever stopped, he’d have to face the sad, pitiful truth about who he really is.

In the end, Phoenix is a cautionary tale, a tragic figure who never grew out of his own self-obsession. He’s a reminder of what happens when someone refuses to see beyond themselves, who sees every interaction as a stepping stone to inflate their own ego.

I have no words.

Aside from a few.

This is the last anon I'm answering regarding them. Anymore coming in, I am deleting them on sight.

[marta-bee]

Let’s talk about good and evil, Good Omens-style. 

Pressing on with reading the book, I’m maybe two-thirds or three-quarters through the first chapter. Still not through! But War has made her first appearance, Aziraphale and Crowley are finally sobered p and decided to be god-parents, and I think I’m ready for another mental break. It’s hilarious. It’s harrowing. I am marveling at the sheer genius of the writing. And feeling for Aziraphale being stuck in his own goodness. He’s a cheeky bastard what with the bible-proof pages and all, but still so hemmed in by what he’s defined himself to be. 

Mostly I think I need to take a break, because there’s some really interesting philosophy going on here and I need to unpack it a bit to really feel his weight. 

Last week I’d stopped with Crowley and the Spanish Inquisition. Still feeling the *oomph* of that passage; but this week starts out with its flip-side, which had such an aura of hope to it, for me.

And just when you'd think they were more malignant than ever Hell could be, they could occasionally show more grace than Heaven ever dreamed of. Often the same individual was involved. It was this free-will thing, of course. It was a bugger.

That’s one of my favorite things about humanity, how we’re capable of what my human-bound sense of morality connects with goodness. We’re both. We’re potential. And I think for Crowley, that potential is almost more important than what we potentialize into. Maybe it’s that humans have creativity and a spark that lets them do things stolid heaven and decrepit hell just can’t conceive of. But there’s something very attractive to Crowley about this ability change, to make a choice and not just do or be what they’re predestined to do or be, that’s very attractive to Crowley. If anything connects to what I think of as morality in this world, I think that ability for growth is it. A capacity to surprise and spersede your programming, for lack of a better term.

There’s actually a really delightful exchange I’d forgotten about, on the concept of free will, leading up to that snippet I quoted earlier:

Aziraphale had tried to explain it to him once. The whole point, he'd said-this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement-the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be. Whereas people like Crowley and, of course, himself, were set in their ways right from the start. People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked.

Crowley had thought about this for some time and, around 1023, had said, Hang on, that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, okay? You can't start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle.

Ah, Aziraphale had said, that's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. Crowley had said, That's lunatic.

No, said Aziraphale, it's ineffable.

Aziraphale. The Enemy, of course. But an enemy for six thousand years now, which made him a sort of friend.

Crowley reached down and picked up the car phone.

Being a demon, of course, was supposed to mean you had no free will. But you couldn't hang around humans for very long without learning a thing or two.

Angels and demons can’t change; except of course they can. That’s the whole point of Satan, as Crowley points out later:

"What will happen to the child if it doesn't get a Satanic upbringing, though?" said Aziraphale. "Probably nothing. It'll never know."

"But genetics-"

"Don't tell me from genetics. What've they got to do with it?" said Crowley. "Look at Satan. Created as an angel, grows up to be the Great Adversary. Hey, if you're going to go on about genetics, you might as well say the kid will grow up to be an angel. After all, his father was really big in Heaven in the old days. Saying he'll grow up to be a demon just because his dad became one is like saying a mouse with its tail cut off will give birth to tailless mice. No. Upbringing is everything. Take it from me."

"And without unopposed Satanic influences – "

"Well, at worst Hell will have to start all over again. And the Earth gets at least another eleven years. That's got to be worth something, hasn't it?"

Now Aziraphale was looking thoughtful again.

"You're saying the child isn't evil of itself?" he said slowly.

"Potentially evil. Potentially good, too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality, waiting to be shaped," said Crowley. He shrugged. "Anyway, why're we talking about this good and evil? They're just names for sides. We know that."

"I suppose it's got to be worth a try," said the angel.

Satan can change. Satan did change. And Crowley, too, in the first passage; he decided to make a choice when that’s supposed to be very much a human thing. Even Aziraphale shows a real capacity to, not change his mind perhaps, but let himself be swayed, certainly That whole conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley over what to do about the antichrist reeks of motivated reasoning on his part.

"That's it, then," said Crowley, with a gleam of triumph. He knew Aziraphale's weak spot all right. "No more compact discs. No more Albert Hall. No more Proms. No more Glyndbourne. Just celestial harmonies all day long."

"Ineffable," Aziraphale murmured.

"Like eggs without salt, you said. Which reminds me. No salt, no eggs. No gravlax with dill sauce. No fascinating little restaurants where they know you. No Daily Telegraph crossword. No small antique shops. No bookshops, either. No interesting old editions. No" – Crowley scraped the bottom of Aziraphale's barrel of interests-"Regency silver snuffboxes . . . "

"But after we win life will be better!" croaked the angel.

"But it won't be as interesting. Look, you know I'm right. You'd be as happy with a harp as I'd be with a pitchfork."

He’s supposed to want good. He’s with heaven, that’s the definition of being heaven-aligned, to want good; and taking better as a synonym... yeah, probably if the win the Apocalypse (which they probably would), life would be more good. And that thought makes Aziraphale desperate; he’s croaking the words there, see? He’s torn between what he’s supposed to want and what he actually wants, and it’s all coming to a head. 

Then Crowley said it won’t be as interesting, something else entirely, from the heaven- or hell-aligned, and that’s when he starts to crack. It’s a rebellion, or at least a falling (sauntering vaguely downward, if you prefer); because he’s choosing something here too outside what he’s supposed to be working toward: not better, but more interesting. And thank Someone for that.

Let’s go back to that first exchange, though, where Aziraphale and Crowley are discussing free will. Because Crowley makes a really interesting point, both narratively and in terms of real-world philosophy.

Hang on, that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, okay? You can't start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle.

Ah, Aziraphale had said, that's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. Crowley had said, That's lunatic.

Aziraphale’s line is one I heard often enough from the Protestant-Christian side of my upbringing. Blessed are those who suffer for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And Crowley’s right: it’s nonsense to think people who are fighting all day every day to survive will ever be able to do as well at this free choice sanctification scheme as people who have the luxury of a bit of breathing space. Free will, for one thing, is meaningless if you don’t actually have two options to choose from; and the space (mental and otherwise) to actually make a decision.

Personally this isn’t the interpretation of Christianity I’ve found most useful, or consistent with the way I read the (Christian) Bible. It’s not that suffering gives you more opportunities for growth; there’s a sense of to-whom-much-has-been-given-much-will-be-expected shot through so many of Christ’s parables (the Five Talents, for instance), and of course there’s the line that it’s easier for a rich man to pass through the Eye of the Needle than to get into heaven; if you know your Biblical archaeology, that’s essentially saying you have to be stripped free of your baggage, which is the one thing rich people won’t be able to do.

Put another way: those who suffer, those who are poor and week, are blessed not because their suffering lets them achieve more heaven-points, but because they don’t need them precisely because they’re small. Whereas those given more resources, more is expected of them. I don’t think Crowley would approve of that kind of valorizing of smallness, but intellectually at least it makes more sense than what Crowley’s been twisted to think is correct.

I’m more a fan of the Aristotelian approach, myself. There are virtues that ought to motivate actions, but at the same time it’s all tied up in what’s possible for an individual. So a person who’s, say, OCD and deals with excessive anxiety might show more genuine courage in crossing the street than someone without that psychology would need to run into a burning building. Of course there’s certain maladies that make it impossible to exercise true virtue and we should feel pity for those people even if we don’t think of them as virtuous. But at least within certain limits, courage isn’t just about doing the most extreme thing, even necessarily what the situation demands, because courage is being guided by fear in the right way so we behave courageously; and if you’ve got more fear to navigate you need better courage than most to do the navigating.

That’s a much better way of thinking about things to me. Afflicted people aren’t better than those with a better starting out point because they get more heaven-points (whatever form that takes) or reach some better external state than people with a more favorable starting point; it’s that to even get to the same result as other people, they need more oomph, more grace, more whatever, because of all they’re pushing back against. It’s not fair, but it seems at least a more generous interpretation of the reality we’re all trying to struggle through.

Getting back to the book, though, I find it really interesting that Aziraphale and Crowley think of good and evil in these terms. It’s a sign of the headspace Heaven and Hell drive them toward, I think; to the point Crowley says they’re just labels for our side, those words don’t actually mean anything. 

But he’s still shaken by Barcelona. He’s still begging with Aziraphale- test them, sure, but not to destruction. He doesn’t want humanity to be ended, and it’s not for the more self-centered reasons that drive Aziraphale here, those lovely little bits of life on earth he finds so enjoyable. There’s a sense that he shouldn’t allow that to happen. There’s a should, an ought, a moral imperative still, even for a demon who’s been trying to tempt humanity toward his side for six millennia here. And while I don’t want to indulge on simple moralizing, there’s something at his core that won’t let him just let history do its thing. It may not neatly align with what heaven or hell is pointing for, that’s really the point, but there’s still an ought in play that’s somehow independent of all that.

Frankly, I find all that fascinating, not to mention a damned compelling narrative.

And War’s up next, I see. I need a readerly break, but when I get back, I think things are about to get fun.

[ratatatastic]

absolutely cackling at the idiot4idiot of them and poor benny having to deal with this catholic school omega bless his heart!! bobby’s “captain’s nice but not that nice” killed me because like. that’s so correct thank u can’t wait to see him be “not that nice”. in this au, i do also wanna consider lundy with a massive massive heart eyes crush on maffhew bc that’s adorable. and would be hilarious if maffhew catches onto that faster than he catches on to sasha’s end of things. every euro’s eye twitches in judgement

the more that gets added to this au the funnier it fucking gets truly like lets make it sooooooooooo much messier yeah babes lets really ramp it up i love the energy we're creating in the room right now

you spend your heat with your captain ONCE and you know all his secrets is all im saying... something about a terribly sweet man who makes sure not to be overbearing with his status/size/etc who will throw his weight around liberally if he's gone enough... bobby knows a little too well of how not nice cappy can be... or so the tale goes...

i was hoping someone was finally gonna ask about lundy so i can talk about baby alpha lundy in relation to the sashamatthew because oh BOY when i say everyone is fucking everyone i meant it oh god i meant it

lundy's really whipped for the tall bratty omega that pushes him around (luosty) but also have you considered that as a baby alpha new to the league, you've been confronted with the longstanding idea that alphas cannot be in the same pack unless there's bitching involved (which there are other ways to assert dominance that does not involve knotting an alpha like holding them down and biting their neck until they stop fighting would do the trick for most alphas who aren't super territorial but you know hockey league and everything I'm sure its a "this is the quickest and simplest solution lets nip it in the bud before it becomes a problem (insert the many amount of incidents that caused such a consensus to be made)" so it becomes embroiled in tradition but it does have the adverse effect of being a lot of As inadvertent awakenings as hockey is wont to do

anyways walk with me, youre a baby alpha and trying not to psych yourself out about whats about to happen, its your first knot and the only one youll have to take in your life (or so it goes) and then youre home-free. Sasha treats you sweetly because hes been in your position before he doesnt want this to be a terrible experience but somehow that makes it 10 times worse because hes treating you something like a lover when you're literally bent over a table in a random staff room in the bowels of the stadium with your gym shorts by your knees and none of this is supposed to be in anyway tender or sexy its supposed to be practical and methodical, a "lets get it over with and never think about it ever again" but sasha keeps checking in, soothing and gentling you when he notices you tense up as he preps you, warns you when his knot is starting to form and tells you to just breathe through it and when you inevitably start crying at the sheer size of it, of how overwhelming it is—which is already embarrassing enough in the presence of your pack leader—he just starts pressing against you more and you feel the rumble more than you hear it because hes purring and chat is it normal to pop a knot because your captain is fucking his own knot into you and also purring to calm you down like your one one of his omegas. no lundys never living this down. no sasha is also never letting him live it down when he finally realises whats happened because despite his knot finally going down lundy is still a little too eerily still on the table. this is the part where he limps off and nurses his own ego and sasha nudges at him till he finally turns over and well. thats new. and unexpected. and definitely something to nurse your ego over (he likes to bring it up when lundy's being mouthy like he isnt still just a pup because it shuts him up pretty effectively and sasha's favourite activity is bullying lundy yeah)

so you take your first knot, kinda really liked it and also guess what youre living in your pack leaders house (to be mentored, also because fellow countryman) as a double whammy so you can imagine what lundys first week after the knot-ining™ is like... very much a puppy tucking their tail between their legs…

The thing they don’t tell you after being knotted as an Alpha is the after. The after is so much worse than the before and definitely a lot better than the during—but resolutely a pretty resounding worse.

The before is pacing around the sterile staff room, sweat breaking out of every pore of your skin, trying to wrestle down the nervous yipping that’s desperately forming in his chest—Anton’s not a puppy anymore—and listening for the footsteps that are sure to come soon enough down that hall.

The during is when the only thing you have to focus on is the large foreign intrusion that has your hackles rising but your Captain gave you a choice; either you stay still on your own volition or he has to help you out stay still. He said it without a single ounce of judgement, a peace offering if you will—like he’s done it so many times before, holding down big Alphas by the neck while he feeds them his cock, knots them until they become passive again. It’s already enough that Anton was on his stomach because he didn't think he could bear looking Sasha in the eye while he—you know... but it does mean his brain is making all sorts of connections he shouldn't be making at a time like this, and they don’t because before long every single thought just becomes big, big, so big. Anton doesn't have the time or space to even remotely think about the implications that come with it, just that it’s happening. 

The after… 

Not much has changed in the after, there's no new hints to Sasha's scent that Anton can parse out (like so many Omegas have gushed to him about before), there’s no throbbing at his neck because Sasha hasn’t marked him (this wasn’t a romantic throe of passion, it was a simple means to an end, of course Sasha didn’t bite him), and there’s no… bond…

Perhaps that’s the part that has him particularly… off.

He walks through Sasha’s house like he’s haunting it. He’s surrounded by his scent, the cardamom that was overwhelming the first night he came home with Sasha after the… event that has him limping along a lot more than usual… it smells unobtrusive. He knows he should feel skittish being so deep in Sasha’s territory for lack of a better word, but, well, taking a knot does that to a guy. It’s not soothing, not yet at least, but it could be. It’s going to be—because this is his pack leader.

When his pack leader joins him in the kitchen, where Anton has been staring holes into the cabinets for the better part of minutes letting every single thought pass through him in waves, he doesn’t so much as bristle when Sasha brushes past him. When he bumps his shoulder, Anton feels a need to lean into the touch, and he does.

The surprised huff of laughter Sasha makes isn't mean spirited, it’s filled with so much delight it has Anton going practically boneless next to him, trying to get closer to the source of it.

“Move. You’re in the way,” Sasha shoves at him, breathy giggles pouring out of him when Anton doesn’t do that. “I need tea, move.”

Anton decidedly does not grumble but it’s a close thing that he doesn’t when he has to peel off enough Sasha so he can access the tins of tea he has in his cupboard. He’s sure he’s not supposed to be acting like this; the Alpha in him is quiet, still, breathless and waiting. Doesn’t know whether to roll over, wiggling playfully as he shows off his soft underbelly or puff up, snapping his jaws that he’s being herded around, that another Alpha is pushing him around.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to think about it though, because Sasha is here—he’s pack leader, he’ll decide whether this’ll become a problem or not. Whether Anton should be acting like this or not.

anyways i need to establish that background because it makes everything else really funny i promise. so congrats your mooning over your captain because he took your knot virginity, and also hes just a great individual you really admire and want to be like, hes taken you under his wing and treats you something like a little brother which is—which makes trying to not think of the knot-ining™ and distancing yourself away from it easier, and you do for the most part and you think you have it under control i mean its been years its fine its very easy to willfully ignore attraction for admiration 

and entering from stage left is the fun flirty omega who clearly has thing for sasha too whos also your stall-mate and whether its because lundy is easily susceptible to gaining huge admiration crushes on anything that breathes (yes obviously) or because maffhew really is just that charming (also yes) he does imprint on him in the same way when you havent realised youre bi yet and you have a crush on this girl and then you find she has boyfriend and then you see her with the boyfriend and realise oh god hes hot too and you end up crushing on them as a couple instead 

And maffhew being maffhew when it doesnt involve his own feelings does notice that the alpha next to him as been giving him looks, stares at his neck when he thinks he can get away with it, turns away quickly in a nervous fluster when matthew gives him a coy smile that says I caught you. Like what you see? 

maffhew love messing with lundy a little too much, likes cooing at him after a good game, likes ruffling his hair messing it up in ways lundy protests about but can’t do much when it’s maffhew doing it. And lundy’s cute of course he is, it’s endearing to have an alpha this obvious in their interest (cue sighing from everyone involved in this clown show) and well maybe matthew doesn’t do anything to stop it either, maybe makes it worse actually. leaves his equipment strewn about so it spills over to lundys stall because he's messy of course theres a nuclear spill of cinnamon on lundy's side and suspiciously not on bennys, maybe he's more obnoxious when he leads warmup stretches in practise, makes sure he's not facing lundy so he can get a good look of the view of him on his knees—it certainly does help lundy is always next to sasha so if they both get a nice look well maffhew considers it killing two birds with one stone, its just efficient.

the euros of course see this and stare at lundy like "you. you are the problem" except when luosty says it hes cackling with delight, losing his absolutely shit at the mess lundy has managed to get himself involved with

and im not saying two giggling omegas is a cause for concern but lundy does start sweating profusely when he sees matthew and luosty getting a little too buddy buddy after practise because luosty knows him a little too well and nothing but trouble can come from that.

And if youre wondering what sasha is feeling about matthew getting cozy with lundy like oh hes feeling jealous—no, its a “I’m so glad matthew has TWO alphas on this team he can turn to if he needs to it makes me happy hes integrating himself so well into our pack even if it means he doesnt turn to me for dynamic reasons because it is not my place to encroach on a omega’s free will to choose how they spend their heats because that’s a dangerous line of thought and as pack leader i respect all members of my pack as long as their decisions dont pose a risk to our pack as a whole :)” 

“Why isn’t he jumping my bones by now!?” Matthew whines out for the millionth time this week it seems.

Sam remains quiet for a bit, watching as Matthew makes a mess of his couch rolling about it like he is, before he opens his mouth, “I feel like you would benefit so much from a college level Introduction to Dynamics Studies class.”

“Yeah, what makes you say that?”

“No reason. Just that there’s a community college downtown that I drove by this morning. They’re offering classes, you know.”

“Hey, man, I appreciate the shout, I do. But can we, like, stay on topic?”

“No, yeah, of course, I get it. Let’s go back to Sasha not being attracted to your very fertile and breedable pheromones you’ve been sending out like a billboard in the middle of the desert that it’s honestly a miracle you haven’t been pupped up by now.”

“Thank you.” Matthew says gratefully before he pauses, eyes narrowing, “I have a feeling you’re being a little bitchy about this.”

“I’m always bitchy.” Sam snorts.

“Correction. More bitchy than usual.” Matthew stares at Sam for a bit before his lips quirk up, the startings of that shit-eating grin he always has on his face making an appearance, “What? Don’t tell me you’re jealous? Aww, Benny! Babe, you’re always my first choice in As. I didn’t think I needed to say it but maybe I should more often if you’re—”

“Matthew. Shut up.”

“No, no, maybe my very fertile and breedable pheromones will soothe your bruised Alpha ego.”

The “Fuck off,” levels at Matthew doesn’t have the effect it should because he’s laughing, the words chased by giggles. It doesn’t help that Matthew’s already trying to wriggle onto his lap while Sam halfheartedly tries to shove him off.

“Let me soothe you, Alpha!” Matthew’s moaning it in the same way those cheesy 80s VHS pornos think is remotely sexy and not just a boner killer. He’s making his voice reedy and saccharine sweet to really sell the image all while he’s grabbing at the back of Sam’s head to push it into his neck.

“You’re such a dick.” It’s mumbled as shoved into his neck as Sam is.

“Yeah, well, you are too.” Matthew chirps like it's a complement. And to him—to both of them it is.

…

“You know I love you, right?”

Sam sighs, “Yeah. Love you too.”

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

*I’m about to do a whole lot of nonsensical rambling so feel free to ignore*

The theory that Jaime Lannister will join the Night’s Watch at the very end of the story has always intrigued me, mostly because of the very visual changes that would encapsulate his series long character arc up to that point.

Because from the very first time that we see him on page, he’s always been in colors that are bold…or even glitter in a way? His main characteristic has been that of a man of the kingsguard - a highly prestigious institution. The highest point a knight could reach I guess. Not only that but he’s also one of the greatest living knights in the land as far as sheer skill goes. But just as we’re introduced to his place in this illustrious position, we’re immediately told that he’s a kingslayer. He’s a knight whose main job is to protect the king, but he killed the damn guy (then sat on his throne as if rubbing salt in the dead man’s wounds). And it’s not badass or anything. This monicker is one given to him through mocking.

He does some pretty messed up things too (like the defenestration of poor Bran Stark). So it’s shocking (and lowkey poignant) when the very thing that helped him rise to his illustrious position (his sword hand) is taken from him and he has to in many ways start from scratch. And this starting from scratch even opens up a path to redemption for him. And an important aspect of that is the introduction of Brienne of Tarth, who to many readers represents the ideal of what a knight should strive to be even though she isn’t one necessarily: Brienne whose “no chance and no choice” lives up to the basic knightly vow of protecting the weak.

So Jaime is a white knight. A white knight in shining armor who historically is presented as an unblemished hero. But this shining knight’s white cloak is soiled - by his own admission. Then he loses his knight’s hand and goes on this journey and to a lot of us, it seems like he’s now trying to be a good guy and trying to live up to the actual idea of being a “good knight” (whatever tf that means). He’s also struggling with keeping all these vows that he swore. We as readers can’t help but to cheer for Jaime. We want him to find redemption. We want to say, “look how he made his white cloak anew! Look how he actually became the white knight in shining armor that he yearned to be”.

So him joining the Night’s Watch is not something a lot of people would say they predict for him; I certainly didn’t at first! That’s a black cloak, not a white one. Many of us want him to mend the pretty white cloak, not don the black one that has so far not represented anything positive in the story. The kingsguard is an illustrious order whereas the NW is everything but. The kingsguard holds skilled knights but we’re told that the NW is full of unskilled old men and green boys. A man of the kingsguard has great reputation but a man of the NW is at best a criminal. You join the KG for a taste of glory but are sentenced to the NW which is essentially a suspended death sentence - there is no future and you swear a vow to win no glory AND your honor goes to shit; which is absolutely hilarious because two things that are representative of Jaime as a knight, his horses, are named for ‘honor’ and ‘glory’.

But then think about it: it seems so simple right? Jaime starting out in an institution that is high in honor (theoretically) but then ending the story in another that hasn’t seen any honor in millennia seems like the very sort of thing that GRRM would do. The visual dichotomy of moving from a white cloak that is soiled to a black one that cannot be soiled is pretty neat as well - I mean you could argue that a black cloak can still be soiled just that the stain is not visible, but I choose the interpretation that whatever blemishes there are do not remove the base purpose or identity. And again, black can represent purity.

So the white -> black shift is thematically very neat…but then I always get stumped because well wait, what will the NW look like at the end of the story? And an extension of that question is who will Jaime be as a member of this NW?

The NW from the very first page of the series has been rotten to the core. It started out with this noble higher purpose (to guard the realms of men against the Others), but it has long forgotten it’s true purpose and has (in a very caricature-like performance of duty) spent thousands of years fighting against the very people it was sworn to protect. Not only that but this once great institution that housed hundreds upon hundreds of great knights (men who were once exalted from all corners of the seven kingdoms) now houses hundreds and hundreds of criminals: rapers, thieves, political prisoners, etc, from all parts of the seven kingdoms. The people who exist outside the social contract are the main part of the NW.

The NW sucks ass but(!) it’s true purpose still remains. Winter is coming and in true GRRM fashion, the very men who will have to protect the realms of men are the ones who have been cast away, damned, and forgotten by the people they’re sworn to protect. Then in comes Jon Snow (a bastard, mind you, who also exists in the fringes of society) who tries and fails to restore the NW to its true purpose. The result of his failure is well: stabby-stab-stab. Due to the mutiny at Castle Black (and the general state of the Watch up until Jon’s last chapter in ADWD), many Jon fans want the Watch to be completely destroyed. It’s rotten so might as well just get done with it…

But I’m not so sure that the total annihilation of the Watch is necessary. I’m a firm believer that the fallout from Jon Snow’s assassination (and possible death) will be the important catalyst needed to uproot the decayed moral center of the Watch. I believe that the Watch as we know it will die…but sometimes, things must die in order to be reborn. And what better way for the Watch to be reborn than with the death and rebirth of its most important member, Jon Snow? I’ve said many many times that Jon in ASOIAF is the very embodiment of the cycle of life after death; the cycle of death and decay then eventual renewal. Jon’s arc has been about taking charge of the cripples, bastards, and broken things, the criminals and the unwanted. He takes and leads the ones who are othered. And then he takes them and gives them purpose. Arms them and empowers them. Sam and the NW recruits, Arya, the wildlings, etc.

So given what Jon represents in this story and his relation to the NW (let’s be real, the NW storyline is Jon’s) I don’t think it’s fitting for the NW to be destroyed and cease to exist. Rather, it makes sense for it to die and be renewed into something closer to its true purpose: to protect the realms of men. And since I’m a firm believer that the NW will be remade, I’ve always believed it would be repurposed post WFTD to be an institution that guards the survivors and helps rebuild the land/community. The seasons will be balanced so that means that winter/death will still be coming, but first the men of the NW must live.

I not sure yet what these changes will entail but I do know that the issue or vows will come up. The swearing and keeping of oaths and vows is an important motif in both Jon’s and Jaime’s arc. Both of them struggle with the weight of keeping vows they’ve sworn to their respective institutions, especially because they’ve some times been made to perform actions that are against those vows.

In my ideal world, the entire business of swearing vows is done away with once Jon restructures the Watch. We see time and time again in his arc that there is a difference between saying and keeping oaths/vows. One of my absolute favorite scenes in the entire series is when Jon faces off against Marsh and co. in ADWD and then proceeds to recite the NW vows from start to finish because while his detractors know the vows by heart, they do not keep the spirit of them. In fact, many advocate for actions that would be the exact opposite of their vows. The lesson here being that just because you swore to do something, doesn’t mean you’ll actually follow through in ways that count.

See, I think parts of the NW vows are very important (i.e., protecting the realm, being a shield, etc). But other parts seem unnecessary. A man may be doing a bang up job of wearing no crowns or winning no glory but is he actually performing the actual job of the NW: to protect the realms of men? Part of me has always felt that an ideal NW wouldn’t need any vows to be sworn. As long as any man or woman has the will and zeal to perform the basic function of the Watch, which is to protect the realm, then no vows are necessary (might be an unpopular opinion I know).

I guess it sounds like my ideal NW is basically the BWB in its foundation: a band of people who were joined under the common goal of dispensing the king’s peace and justice; and this tracks because Jon and Beric are parallels so it shouldn’t be far fetched for the NW and BWB to also mirror each other. AFAIK, the BWB swears no fancy vow despite its noble purpose.

So I was just thinking that wouldn’t it be interesting for Jaime, a man who has struggled under the weight of a dozen vows (I’m probably exaggerating) to join an institution where no vows are necessary, but to uphold himself to a standard where he will keep the spirit of the vow anyway? Before he was made a kingsguard, he was a knight. And a knight swears to protect the weak. The NW’s purpose is to protect the men and women of the realm, with the understanding that there will be no personal benefit/gain. There will be no honor or glory, it’s just what one should do.

And I got to thinking about Jaime’s AFFC arc. This is a little reductive (forgive me for that) but he travels the Riverlands trying to establish the king’s peace. But he’s supporting a rather corrupt regime and going around with his horses named Glory and Honor, wishing and calling himself “Goldenhand the just”. He is rebuilding Westeros after the W0t5K, though this is being done under the banner and interests of the Lannister regime and under the umbrella of Lord Tywin’s legacy…which isn’t great to say the least. He, a damned man, covered up the loss of his knight’s identity with a golden arm. And while he understands that this is renewal for him, he can be something different now, he hasn’t really understood just how different he could/and needs to be.

So I’d like a reversal of his AFFC arc. But instead of a white cloak, he has a black one. There’s no honor and no glory to be won. But he decides that he wants to help rebuild Westeros the right way. There’s no benefit for him. But he will be living up to the Ser part of his name. It would even be more poignant if he’s doing this under Jon Snow, whether Jon is the 1000th LC or Lord of Winterfell or whatever. Because Jaime gains his dishonor by killing Jon’s grandfather Aerys. He donned the white cloak for Aerys. But to find honor (though unexpectedly and not out of self interest) and wear the black cloak under Jon is such an interesting continuation; let’s also remember that Jon is Ned Stark’s spiritual heir in many ways, and Jaime has a uh complicated relationship with honor as it relates to Ned Stark.

Btw I’m not advocating for Jaime to be Jon’s lapdog or anything. He’s a wholly different character whose arc exist away from Jon. I’m just mentioning Jon because there are thematic intersections, and I fully expect him to still have a relationship with the (renewed) NW at the end of the story. Thus, their arcs could possibly clash at some point.

So yeah, jaime joining the NW is something so wonderful to me because the thematic closure is actually quite rich. He doesn’t have to die for his to be a good story, and he doesn’t have to get an absurdly happy ending that ignores the things he must atone for. He’s one of my favorite characters (a solid top 5), so I have to admit that I very much want him to live. But I do want him to live and find himself at a place that provides him a purpose that he thought had eluded him. He can still be a knight, maybe not the one he wanted or expected. But it would give him the opportunity to effect some real positive change that he tried and failed to do in AFFC. A knight is sworn to protect the weak. And Westeros will be battered and bruised after the Long Night. It will need to be rebuilt, especially up north where the othered wildlings could be. So I’d like for jusrt Ser Jaime to find his purpose helping those he probably never even acknowledged.

[aces-and-angels]

final thoughts on the ilw finale: matthias edition (ch 23 spoilers below) @itlivesproject​

First, I would like to applaud everyone on the @itlivesproject​ team for creating such a wonderful gaming experience ♥ The storyline, visuals, music- all of it would not have been possible (or as freaking amazing) without your tireless efforts. To the kings, queens, and rulers of the ILW crew: please accept these flowers 💐💐💐

my betrayal route: 

edit: I know we were told to keep the sound on for the finale, but I think this WHOLE route needs to be played over clown music, anyways back to me trying to empathize w Boo Boo the Clown Rowan (dumb, evil edition)

ILW has variants- this is known. Matthias’ route has variants galore. Why try to change him when you can join him and change the entire narrative instead? I can’t think of any villains from past Choices books that have captivated my attention the way Matthias has. And with the sheer amount of options I could choose from to see how his story would end- I had to explore them all. 

As a reader, I was giving his character some major side-eye throughout the series. But taking myself out of the equation, the way he is written makes it perfectly believable that Rowan could fall for his deception. A master manipulator, through and through. Prepare to make a lot of enemies with this route, because no matter what, everyone will hate you with every fiber of their being. Here’s the proof: 

*wipes single tear from eye, sniffling* look at all those consequences. As everyone who has ever played ILW would say, PB could nevaahhhh 😗💅

In my main Matthias x Rowan route (where Ro is loyal to Matty to a fault), my attempt at betrayal didn’t give me the two evil lovers sipping cocktails by the pool epilogue that I was anticipating. Instead, my Rowan was dealt a more tragic (albeit karmically hilarious) conclusion that fits this portion of my analysis that I’d written on Grandpa Matty for ch 21: 

Matthias’ cruel nature is no secret to MC, regardless of their relationship status with him. Romancing him, however, allows MC to justify it. But that doesn’t stop that bit of doubt from creeping up. What happens when they’re no longer enough? Deep down, they already know the answer. But as of right now, Matthias loves them. Wants them. Ironically, they voice out this hidden fear to Adrian: “It’ll never be enough. No matter how much you get, you’ll always want more.”

If we’re defining a happy ending as getting everything you want, then yes, it is possible for Matthias to have one. In fact, it is guaranteed. MC’s happily-ever-after with him, however, will always come with strings.

Humanity and Matthias do not mix. Period. His flashback scene to when he was still a mortal confirms that he has always been a man that wanted more. More than what the fates allowed. And if that wasn’t convincing enough, Mama Loha comes in and reads him to filth. Rowan’s ties with Matthias are severed the instant they become human. It was a messy divorce lmaoo

Rowan, the failed villain. This ending leaves them the most at odds with themselves, in my opinion. 

From this:

To that: 

Imagine feeling completely whole for the first time in your life, only to think of yourself as useless seconds later. Every iteration of Rowan grapples with their identity- their connection to the Power, and what that means to them. The tragedy of the blood!matthias route is Ro falling victim to Matthias predatory nature- the same one he used to manipulate Jocelyn, and countless others, to his will. He filled their ears with sweet nothings that they were more than eager to receive. Except, Matthias never accepted Rowan. Not completely, at least. 

Matthias (to Rowan): “My darling, how anyone could think you were something so trivial as human is beyond me. You, my dear creature, are something the likes of which the world has never seen. A rose would pale in comparison to your beauty, and a lion would cower against your power. You are beyond extraordinary, and now you are all mine.”

Matthias builds Ro up to be what he wanted, not to what they were meant to/wished to become (in this route): human. Every other LI (unless you utterly fuck them over) will love Ro regardless of their fate. Matthias, on the other hand, proves that his love was always conditional. To the best of my knowledge, the only way you are able to achieve a successful Matthias x MC romance is if Rowan casts aside their humanity completely. Not even staying as they are, a mix between human and the Power, will work. While Matthias doesn’t flat out reject Rowan if they refuse to merge with their other half, it is impossible to be with him as they are. What happens when they’re no longer enough? Turns out, they were never enough to begin with.  

There is something especially cathartic of having Ro kill Matthias after he betrays them. Justice for all the lies he’d woven over the years. But even in death, the scars that Matthias left on Rowan remained. Seeing the relief Ro has after regaining their power is sad to witness because it shows just how little they valued themselves. Grandpa Matty really did a number on them: made them think their worth was solely tied to their Power half. The only thing that made them special to him. The only thing that could make Rowan feel special now. 

At the very end of the chapter, when Rowan is surrounded by wealth, Power flowing through their veins, they long to go back home. Back to Westchester. Despite having everything they thought they wanted, they yearn for the one thing they can’t have. The thing that they were told didn’t matter- the thing that made them useless. The same thing that, in the end, was all they truly desired. And that friends, is a sad way to send our Rowan off. 

but on the other hand girl how could you be THAT blind he MURDERED PEOPLE and wanted to do it AGAIN- always trust Lincoln you dumb hoe

ILW refusing to let Ro stay human in a blood/betrayal route is just screaming: you really think??? you can just go back to being a mortal??? after doing all of that???? How Rowan came to denying their humanity is tragic under the lens of Matthias’ manipulation. But their descent to the dark side- their willingness to go against everyone who has ever really loved them? Yeah, that part earns them a special place in clown school with a big helping of consequences. Alone, wandering the Earth, never truly at peace- a fitting end for a fallen villain

---

Quickly touching on the other variants of Matthias’ route: 

I am HYPE that we get to win as the villain. If I’m fully committing to Ro’s evil era- I’m playing to win- and I wON BITCHES

Also I guess being an all powerful being makes wearing clothes seem trivial are they really just doing each other raw and walking around in the the nude 24/7????

DOUBLE CROSSING IS EVEN WILDER 

I was POSITIVE that if Ro didn’t cross Matthias, he would end up killing them in the epilogue. Esp since they both had the thought of killing each other to achieve their ultimate, final form

This option is just a big middle finger to every relationship Ro has ever had. They really said I choose ✨me, myself, and I ✨

Also killing Matty will forever be so satisfying. The sinister smile they have right before they do it: chills.

There is also the option to play as the villain and lose (Ro and Matty die) but who would wanna put themselves through that??? hahaha.... definitely not coming from someone who decided to read all the BAD endings first

If you made it this far down the post, heyyyy thanks for sticking with me😄 I’m curious on y’alls thoughts on Matthias’ fate in ILW. How’d his story end for you? Feel free to share below/in the tags! 

[bookish-monster]

RECOMMENDATION

Love, Laugh, Lich

by Kate Prior - find her on Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok as well

The storygraph link contains info such as publication date, number of pages, community-created content warnings, and more.

Love, Laugh, Lich is the first installment of the Claws and Cubicles series, and it completely stole my reliquary—I mean, heart. First of all, the situation is absolutely hilarious: a lich takes over the realm, instituting an Evil Dominion o’er all, and yet… people still go to work! There are office jobs! Lily, the human protagonist and the lich’s personal assistant, complains about a lack of PTO and shitty severance packages alongside the virgin sacrifices that the Lich Lord demands! It’s wild and utterly ridiculous and I truly enjoyed every moment of the sheer incongruity of it all. Look at this quote:

[The lich is] pacing the lower inner level of the Sanctum, the ritual floor. It’s drawn up in runes and incantation circles, with all his most-used ingredients lined up near the edges, and an altar for sacrifices in the center. "And there’s the initiative to bring more women in the STEM fields. That’s Sneakiness, Traumatization, Evil Studies, and Misfortune," I trail off...

It’s so corny and silly that I can’t help but love it. It feels like corporate D&D with the absurdity of the setting, almost, but with an office romance twist. This is one of those books where I learned almost nothing about the FMC outside of her interactions with the love interest, but I was weirdly okay with it because the setup was so outlandish and fun. Anyway, I truly did enjoy Lily as a protagonist. Usually I don’t jive much with first person POV, but I liked Lily’s. She is, of course, rather disconnected from reality and potentially crazy—it’s not wanting to jump a lich’s bones (ha) that makes me say so, but the fact that she has a continent-sized crush on her boss and agrees to sleep with him for work. FOR WORK! Girl…

Janice, Lily’s best friend and the company’s HR manager, is the voice of reason here (and potentially the FMC of the next installment of this series) but she is sadly—or perhaps happily?—ignored by Lily in favor of Soven (the lich) and his trifecta of cocks. You heard me right: trifecta. Soven has three dicks (one of them dedicated to clitoral stimulation) and he isn’t afraid to use them. Lily is a big fan, as am I. Soven is also a bit of a dork, which is super endearing given that he has enough undead magical power to (probably) level a city block without breaking a sweat.

I actually liked the conflict in this little novella. You can read the entire story in a few hours, but it feels appropriately sized—not too grand, but also not cramped. The story was (to quote Goldilocks) just right for what it was trying to do. The fact that sleeping with one’s boss is generally considered a bad idea all around, even in the real world, was acknowledged heartily—Lily agonizes over her feelings and Soven’s feelings and what the boundary is between “work” and “a relationship” and honestly it’s a whole mess of emotions that ordinarily I would find tedious… but because the novella is so short, the miscommunication and pining and angst didn’t get drawn out even close to the border of my patience, and I had a great time. 

The ending is very cute and a definite HEA that I found very sweet without being cavity-inducing in its intensity. The sex scenes were fun and varied, and as someone who prefers more lavish, drawn-out sex scenes I was reasonably satiated with these. Overall, Love, Laugh, Lich was a great, funny rom-com, and I’m looking forward to picking up the next book in the series as soon as my next paycheck comes in.

Buy this book on Amazon Kindle (US)

[zalrb]

OTH 3X03 REWATCH Review

1. IIIIIIIII DON’T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I’VE TRYNA BE LATELYYYYYYYYYYYY

2. “Should’ve used your stage name.” Lol, petty Nathan, I like it.

3. Also, in my high school, our lockers were supposed to be our same lockers for the whole four years but a) we moved lockers if we felt like it b) we didn’t even really use lockers, we just brought our bags to class.

4. Guys, their chemistry has DISAPPEARED

5. The whole plot line of these girls making fun of Haley for being a rockstar is just ... why? Like, I get jealousy, like I’ve heard of teen singers who got their, like, tires slashed by students and stuff because of their celebrity but this just rings so false.

6.

THE 00S WHAT A TIME!

7. Dan, shouldn’t you be focused on rebuilding your dealership?

8. Whitey is just so useless.

9. Was medical marijuana not a thing yet? Wasn’t it a thing in the 90s?

10. I know Dan thinks Lucas tried to kill him but this is your, like, 17 old son.

11. “I don’t care how many board members got their cars at cost, 40 years of coaching should count for more than that” not to side with Dan but one is more effectual than the other, Whitey, you’re a terrible coach. Which again. This is not a basketball town. In FNL, Eric loses ONE game in season 1 and the entire town freaks the fuck out and is like, we win SEASONS here, not games.

12. I like how they make it seem like adoption isn’t a lengthy process and that Ellie was just like yep this couple and that was it.

13. The funniest thing about the Haley/Nathan detention SL for me is that this ACTUALLY happened to me (minus the marriage or EVEN the dating) with my best friend and my French teacher. We weren’t talking because of the whole I realized I liked him thing and we weren’t sitting together in class anymore and I guess he would glare at me from across the room and sometimes we just ended up in huge fights in the hallway and we had French class before lunch and she told us both to stay behind then kept us in the room with her for the whole lunch hour so we could talk. She did it again after school another time.

14. “See you at lunch”, I’ve never seen you two together at lunch.

15. “Are you Kelly Clarkson?” “WANNA SAY THAT TO MY FACE?” WHAT is the insult here.

16. OK it IS really intrusive for Ellie to just be UP in Peyton’s room, going through her art, like I would be pissed off too but also

I need her to give it a rest, like I’m tired, Peyton.

17.

Like, I CAN’T. It also doesn’t help that Hilarie isn’t a great actress so this just comes across as whining as opposed to sheer devastation. Like, go find Jake and be giddy again please.

18. Everyone just loves calling Brooke a whore, man.

19. Oh, Peyton, looking at the stoplights. Ofc. At least she’s not driving this time I guess.

20. “Sometimes you guess right. You guessed where to find me.” Who wouldn’t know where to find you, Peyton. My god.

21. Mouth you’ve been annoying this WHOLE episode.

22.

but Lucas has NO right to be the one to tell him this. You end up painting Brooke’s red door black, sir.

23. Why is the MAYOR here? OK.

24. Lol I can hear Leyton shippers talking about how Peyton always brings up making out with Lucas as an indication that she wasn’t over him and that Leyton was always in the background but Peyton also always brings up making out or Nathan being horny for her all the time around him too and in fact in season 2 has to remember not to talk like that in front of Haley, so that’s just Peyton’s thing, she just talks about making out with guys she’s made out with before.

25. Dan is just fucking EVERYWHERE

26.

1. This is redundant, just say booty call.

2. We’ve never actually SEEN this. This just seems like conjecture.

27. I’m sorry but I found this delivery SO funny. This is not better, Nathan.

28. This always made me laugh because this is just regular pjs, it isn’t sexy, but she’s in her underwear instead of pants, so I guess

29. THE CHEMISTRY IS JUST GONE

30. Every time I see Whitey I’m like WHY

31. ALWAYS LOVE, HATE WILL GET YOU, EVERY TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME. Nostalgia.

32. Then Lucas’  fucking voiceover ruins it.

33. Because we all know that a podcast is a sufficient substitute for therapy from a licensed professional.

34. THE LETTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

35. I also realize that I like Naley when they’re together but don’t care for their buildups.

[lucygraysboy]

you goin’ gay for me too? billy can’t help but let out a boisterous laugh, hand quickly flying to his mouth to muffle the sound as not to disturb the peace of other guests, but his eyes twinkle with sheer amusement. “of course, i am. it’s you and me in every universe even if you got balls in one of ‘em, too. though, i’d appreciate it if you let me top,” he teases, thinking how ridiculously hilarious these scenarios are, despite being a little weird, too. “how do you make it to the nice list? askin’ for a friend, of course.” nice list? after last night? santa has a sense of humor, billy thinks to himself but knows better than to say these words out loud. thoughts evaporating all at once when her dainty hand finds his curls, eyes slipping shut for a moment and he has to press his lips together to keep from purring like a happy cat. funny how such a small gesture can make his heart swell and ache at the same time, reminding him just how affection-starved he is. with blair, everything was different, even their kisses were cold and mechanical, as though they were back in school, performing in front of their teachers and classmates, so awkward. and yet, one touch of lucy gray’s hand has him melting into a puddle, eyes fluttering open only to gaze at her lovingly. “you must have really missed my curls, hm?” he muses, watching her thoughts drift somewhere far, far away and adding a shy, “a penny for your thoughts, pretty lady?” it’s his turn to reach across the table, fingertips brushing against her locks, twirling one experimentally to capture her attention. a laugh sounds from him, thinking now everyone in this restaurant knows that she wants a guitar! guitar picks. 

“mhm, mhm,” billy hums, pretending to note everything down on a napkin with an invisible pen, but he’s definitely making a mental list — guitar picks, pink sparkly boots, makeup, a coat… best friend home for christmas. his heart turns to mush instantly. of course, he wants to spend this christmas with her and joe and maude ivory and mama bird… all their loved ones. he’s definitely not spending another holiday in new york city, going to bars or sitting at the table with blair’s awful family. “hey, i don’t want to celebrate any holiday away from you. it’s terribly lonely without my best friend.” and the love of his life. “right? i always thought that it was weird, made me feel like i was too short or something. never realized two inches made that big of a difference, but i guess some people really care about stuff like that.” shrugging, it feels good to tell lucy gray about this because it’s been bothering him for a long while. snickering when she calls his ex-girlfriend a bitch, he can’t help but agree. “that’s exactly how it is, makes you feel like you’re not good enough. and it’s even more shitty ‘cause it’s not like i can grow or something. if she told me my hair wasn’t nice enough, i could always change it, but you can’t get taller or shorter so… yeah.”  

“i’ll tell drunk me to remember that.” amusingly nodding before hearing his next question, “that’s a weird question but i sure would. you goin’ gay for me too?” trying to fight back a smile before a laugh explodes out of her, the image of her being a boy and billy being a boy while crushing on each other sending her into orbit of how hilarious that it is to her. “i’m always on the nice list, darlin’. i don’t know what you’re meanin’.” by that, when he says if she makes it on the naughty list. hand reaches out, reacting on impulse to tap the top of his head, wanting to touch his curls. grinning, because it’s fun and smiling endearingly because they’re beautiful to look at again. what would a baby look like, if she had one with him? their eyes, their face, their hair— what would it all look like? a little product of them both? if she wanted to have him as her mate, what kind of beautiful mixture would god sculpt for them that would be part her part him? it’s wildly fascinatin’.

mind deeply wondering as she’s involuntarily twisting her curls around her finger and getting lost in random thought of that huge mystery, heart skipping a beat before an internal record SCRATCH goes off inside her head wondering WHY she even thought of that as she quickly snaps back out of it. how embarrassin’. what is she thinkin’!? and WHY is she thinkin’? “guitar!” pepping up at remembering she was SUPPOSED to he answering, “picks. i mean. guitar picks. pink sparkly boots. makeup. maybe a new coat. and my best friend home for christmas, that’s what i want santa.” looking up at the sky, letting him know. “i mean, i’m just guessin’. you could be 6’2 for all i know. it barely makes a difference when i’m standin’ down here like a gnome and you’re way up there, you might as well be 6’2 to me.” a laugh sounds from her, it already feels that way. “what’s her problem? even if you were 5’7, what’s wrong with that? who even cares?” brows creasing and face twisting into a look of annoyance at how petty and rude that is. really, who cares. billy would still be handsome even without his height— yes, it’s a plus he was blessed with six foot genes. it is one of the things that make him handsome. but it could never take away from him being handsome, even if he were born five foot six, seven or eight. blair sounds like she’s got a stick up her ass thinking he’s somehow not perfect enough with the height he was born with. the more she thinks about it, the more she boils. “actually,” speaking up after a long moment, “that’d be like a boyfriend of mine sayin’ i’m 5’8. it would make me feel like i need to be taller and that i’m not perfect enough in his eyes. that blair’s a bitch.” whispering the curse under her breath, in case there’s elders or children around. bitch blair.

[deitybird]

Birds out of yarn:

“Sorry,” he says with a sniffle on the drive home. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“You always scare me,” Damian says as he quickly turns a corner. Thankfully, Tim doesn’t jostle, and he has a brief moment of surprise over Damian’s careful driving. “I… apologize for making you cry.”

“What? No.” Tim shakes his head. “That wasn’t your fault, Damian. It’s just the hormones.” He wipes his eyes before resting his head against the glass, his body suddenly feeling heavy. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried over nothing during the entirety of my pregnancy. My worst emotional moment might have been when I saw a kid drop their ice cream on the floor, and I wasn’t even sad for the kid! I was sad because the ice cream wouldn’t fulfill its potential of getting eaten!”

The memory brings tears to his eyes, but Tim forces them away through sheer willpower and the memory of Bart and Cassie falling over in a dead faint when he told them about his pregnancy. Ah, good times. It makes him chuckle.

Damian shoots him a strange look, and Tim realizes he’s just sitting there, laughing at nothing. Whoops.

“We’re almost there,” Damian tells him and refocuses on the road. He looks so mature, and Tim sniffles, wondering when the hell his slightly less demonic little brother grew up. “Agent A will be waiting for us.”

“Aw, man,” Tim says, dread pooling in his stomach. “He’s gonna be so mad at me.”

AND

“Don’t put that thought into my head,” Tim scolds, starting to feel emotional. He looks at his baby, who seems so tiny in Kon’s arms, and sniffs. “I’m already dreading the day when I pick her up and she doesn’t do the newborn scrunch anymore.”

“Well, we could always have another,” Kon says pointedly, waggling his brows.

Tim glares at him, but heat rises to his cheeks at the thought.

Dick suddenly looks at Kon seriously, tears still streaming down his face. “Don’t ever make that joke in front of me again,” he says coldly and goes right back to crying his eyes out.

This entire fic is hilarious (and sweet) but i feel like Damians, "you always scare me" might be more underrated which makes me love it even more and Dicks, "Don’t ever make that joke in front of me again" might be my favorite line so far in the fic. Jason just suffered through them being them but Dick cut it off at the knees no mercy

this fic has a special place in my heart just because of damian and tim bonding through baby mj <3 haha! i like to think damian eventually grew used to tim and as tim kinda of grew up and became more comfortable around him, out came the unhinged behavior.

i did also answer this in a comment earlier, but this whole fic was born out of the idea of damian swooping into to tim's apartment to steal a delighted mj and walking right out without another word and tim's just like ??? okay. thus, favorite uncle damian was in my head

jason really going through it fr. won't anyone ever think about him?

[splathousefiction]

SH Cosmology: The Lady (Public Release)

Good day everyone. 

At the suggestion of patrons, realization of the sheer size of the Splathouse narrative, being asked numerous times for “jumping in” points and an overall need to return to writing in any form, I am proud to bring you a series focused exclusively on explaining the more esoteric set dressing of the lore as it stands at this point. 

Splathouse has been one continuous narrative for eight years, and while I will offer absolutely no timelines, deadlines or expectations as to how frequently these will appear (it will be entirely at my whims), I can’t deny that quite a few of you both enjoy this setting and want to know more. Before we go any further, thank you. I have suffered my entire creative career from imposter syndrome and earnestly believing my works weren’t engaging. That changed because of all of you. Your feedback has directly made a difference in how I perceive my craft, and wanting to diversify my skill set. Splathouse, as ever, wouldn’t happen without you.

I offer this series with only a very rough outline of where to begin . I think explaining the basic cosmology would be a great start. The Lady, the original wizard council and their purpose could easily fill the first few entries. Beyond that, there’s a few things I think are worth talking about (how exactly does the Vorpal blade work?! What the hell is chaos magic anyways?!). As such, I am openly taking your questions for anything you’d like me to explain or discuss. 

I also feel it’s pertinent to state that Splathouse has no established “canon”. No matter if it’s acted out in a scene, written here or elsewhere-there is no firm “lore”. Things will contradict things you’ve heard on air or read elsewhere sometimes. While there’s absolutely a “real” reason for this (I have never kept notes on stories!), we’re going to pretend it’s because the SH cast are their own unreliable narrators ;). Or perhaps the multiverse shifted. Whichever feels more fun.

Lastly, these will be patron exclusive-for a month. They’ll then be posted up on the website and my tumblr as both of those need some form of content as well. I like keeping my works accessible to the general public. 

So.

Preamble over.

Let’s talk about The Lady.

In the Beginning, There Was The Lady…

A most unfortunate part of how I handle my craft is that I tend to create an adjacent-reality to my own life, drawing primarily from lived experiences. Plenty of authors, artists, performers and more do this-in my case, it’s entirely by design as well. Having a low-fantasy environment where magic, incredible technology and more rarely happen (or do with spectacular failures or hilarious results) feels more akin to life as I have experienced it growing up both relatively poor. Poverty doesn’t deny the incredible things before your eyes. It places them eternally out of reach as lack of finances cuts your access to resources at the tendon. You get to experience these wonderful things eventually, albeit at a far later time than your peers or neighbors.

The exceptions to this are two things-spirituality, and drugs.

If you’re poor, you’re likely to hear a lot of people say they’ll pray for you. You’re likely to experience a church outreach of some kind, which turns into attending, which turns into niche benefits that feel like a miracle when you get them. As of this writing, I still have an opportunity to be buried at a church I haven’t been to since I was 16. During COVID lockdowns, this same church provided boxes of food to its membership every week, a rare act of kindness they haven’t repeated since. Spirituality in poverty is at best a social behavior, and at worst places the concept of God in a box accessible only if you’re tithing. It, like the rest of poverty, is a scam that turns even the most idealistic of us cynical. 

Drugs however deliver the promise of love, variance of experience, and real, palpable concept of divine grace and retribution right to your brain. Drugs cost money, but not nearly as much as access to a better education, a better neighborhood, a better life. When you’re poor, you do drugs because what else are you going to do on a friday night? Go out to a movie, to dinner? Geez, gas alone is like, $20 bucks, man. Drugs, when taken safely and in a safe environment, are one of the last refuges of mental, spiritual and physical freedom accessible to literally everyone. Drugs are rad actually, but without those informed precautions can indeed ruin your life.

Or, you know, kill you. But hey, at least then you don’t have to worry about your bills right?

I know, I know. That’s a hell of an introduction to who is the most important character in the entirety of Splathouse, but there’s a reason for it-The Lady as a character wouldn’t exist without both of these aspects of my life meeting on a collision course one night before I started any of this.

I have mentioned before how I met the lady on air and in writing, but to bring the rest of you up to speed-

Once upon a time I was really into hallucinogens. I realized in retrospect I did LSD and acid specifically to fight feelings of dysphoria, but that didn’t change that at the time, in the moment, I wanted to leave my body. This flesh, this existence felt wholly constricting to my person in a way I didn’t have words for yet. So one night, I got really, really drunk off cheap whiskey. I did some LSD I picked up from an old connection. When the effects didn’t take, I cursed and stomped and decided to sleep off my drunken stupor on the couch.

That was an incredibly dangerous, stupid and fortunate idea. The moment I was unconscious, I fell through a blackened aether into a dream world I’ve yet to see repeated. Believe me. I’ve tried. I’ve looked everywhere for absolutely anything that could have come close to mimicking this space, and I’ve come up empty every time. 

Because its details weren’t frozen or static; rather, they were golden and kinetic. An endless walkway flanked by pantheons massive as the oldest redwoods, glimmering in an endless twinkling starlight above me. Have you ever seen gold melted down and poured? Imagine that, but it’s everywhere on the coldest, cleanest night of your childhood. Your very breath feels like razors as it curls out from you like sins confessed to a priest. You stand there and you suffer through it though, if only to see the vastness of the universe, if only to feel sm-

Shit, okay. Let me get back to what I was saying. 

I wasn’t afraid. Not yet. I walked this endless corridor, and began to call out. I don’t remember what I said (probably some variation of that shaky “hello?” I give on air sometimes), but I do remember the very distinct impression I was being watched.

And I was! By these giant flowing golden robes with spears in gnarled, hideous hands! I decided running was a good idea.

It wasn’t! It was a horrible idea, what the hell!

They eventually caught me, and threw me to the ground. My face hit the bricks loud enough for my teeth to clack together. I remember in the dream(? Hallucination? Vision?) that I soiled myself at this point. I was genuinely fucking afraid I was going to die and absolutely nothing has even came close to the real fear I felt in this moment. I remember thinking if this was it, if this was my last moment, and least I could hope for an afterlife that had been kinder to me than the waking world. 

That’s when the sky began to drip down like rain. A ways ahead of me, I watched as the sky itself sluiced down to the floor, like a liquid fabric. It was the void, ethereal and beautiful in front of me. I couldn’t look away, even as I struggled against the insurmountable strength of my captors. I sat there, rolling in my own piss and crying as it took a vaguely femme shape. 

She was huge.

Massive.

I hate using those words, because it goes right back to what I said about spirituality and god. It places the concept of her in a box-and she never could be contained by such a thing. She was far too large, too-

When she opened her eyes and looked down at me, I saw within them the beauty of everything. Of life, of love, of even all the things I told myself I despised. I saw freedom and boundless joy and real, genuine happiness I hadn’t known since I was a kid. I started crying, and she tenderly reached a massive finger down and lifted my chin.

“What is it you desire most?”

I wish I had something to compare her voice to. I wish I could mimic it on air, but I never will. It sounded like birds singing how much they love you in your mothers voice. Like the genuine relief of your partner when you call them and say you made it home. Like an elderly man seeing the boy that he was and clutching him in his arms, assuring that kid he was going to be fine. Like the breathless embrace of someone telling you post-coitus not to pull away, that they needed you. 

It sounded like love. Boundless, endless. Even attempting to quantify it would be a fool's errand.

A thousand things came to my mind then. Asking if she was god. If this was real. If I was in heaven or hell. But instead, the truth is what parted my lips. 

“I just want to be happy. Please, I just…I just want to be happy…”

She pulled her finger away. She closed her hands, and when she opened it once more there was a flaming orb. Bright as the sun, just as golden as all that surrounded us. She took her other hand, and with another massive finger lifted my chin once more. 

“Then never waste your potential,” she said, “and know that you are loved,”

She tipped the star forward, and it poured into my throat. 

Again.

Words fail me here to explain the level of pain I felt. Attempting to explain is going to get graphic, so maybe ignore the following paragraph-

I remember the heat most of all. The instant way it seared my esophagus, bringing forth blisters that popped and formed anew within seconds. The searing pain it brought right behind my eyes, the way it gripped my brain in total and perfect oblivion. Nothing, absolutely nothing I had experienced had felt even close to this. It was like swallowing hell, the elephant's foot. I think actually eating the sun would have been less nauseating, mind bendingly breaking.

As the last drop hit my throat, I was pulled from the dream. Coughing, spasming. I ran to my toilet and vomited immediately for what felt like hours. I slumped over beside the toilet after, shivering and delirious from dehydration. I kept thinking to myself never again, holy shit I almost died.

That was the last night I did hallucinogens. 

In time, I forgot the horrors my addictions caused me. I healed from them. But The Lady.

The lady was never, ever far from my mind. I tried lucid dreaming. I delved deeper into my occult studies, something that had been an arm-chair historian hobby at best. I tried, in vain, to look for her for years, or (in my more logical moments) perhaps what inspired her in my brain.

I found nothing.

Nothing at all.

And I have never given up my search, even now. 

I’ve still found absolutely nothing. 

So I kept the secret of The Lady to myself. An isolated shame, I’d think in my depressive episodes. But also a reminder that, despite everything, I still had a chance. I had a life. I had felt love in that moment, and I would chase it eternally, giving it to as many people as I could before I actually, factually died. Years passed-and I started SH. I knew, innately, The Lady would make an appearance. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know when. But I knew in my heart I had to pay tribute somehow to the entity that had given me a second chance, a better path, a life I never would have got to experience were it not for her.

It was the least I could do.

I talked about her with friends. With colleagues in the field of occultism, and my craft. A funny thing happened, too.

A few people told me they had a similar experience. A cosmic entity presenting itself in this vague, beautiful, alluring and omni-compassionate way. It would offer advice. It would give them assurance. Then it would disappear, never to be heard from again. I felt a shiver go down my spine during these conversations, a fearful realization that I hadn’t been hallucinating and that my own assumed fiction had bled over into reality. I’d ask questions of course, check to see if it was good-old confirmation bias on their end. Seeing something that wasn’t there based on a suggestion from my own story, all that.

Then they started mentioning things from my experience that I hadn’t told them. The kinetic gold, the columns, all of it. Things they couldn’t have possibly mentioned unless I had told them.

It’s been over a decade since that night. 

And, if nothing else in my stories is true, if it’s all made up, if it’s just something I smack together and create for entertainment for a few people that vaguely resembles my life, I want to say something I couldn’t admit before, something I was afraid to say out loud for fear of judgment or that same sneering cynicism I mentioned earlier.

The Lady is very, very real. And she is so very, very beautiful.

Fiction, Reality and Melding The Two

I’m going to say something here your humanities teachers failed to tell you. It’s not a hard and fast rule, more of an observation drawn from having done this for so long. 

Fiction is reality, but obfuscated through a looking glass. Sometimes that glass is filthy, sometimes smudged, sometimes shattered. But regardless of how jagged, nasty or gnarly the image is that greets you-It’s still real. Somewhere, right below the surface, is a bridge between your worlds.

That bridge is you. You, observing the glass, and deciding to do something with it. To tell the world what you see on your terms, in your medium, in your way. Nothing in the entire universe will ever come close to the magic of your reality being brought before us. No one, not one person, will ever see what's on the other side of that glass the exact same way you do. 

In my case.

I saw a place I was happy. A world crafted by a being composed of love, but mindful enough to let us choose to be loved without denying us the opportunity to find it later. I saw a place where a few bumbling numbskulls (who somehow, some way managed to be very skilled in some niche things) came together and made each other stronger. Their first order of business wasn’t to use this strength to exploit other people-but to exponentially expand this bond, this compassion and empathy to others. To a found family, to the world if they could.

Over the years, I’ve often thought I fucked up by drawing from my own experiences. But then I think back to that night, to what I’ve accomplished with this Dumb Little Internet Show (™) since, to the people I’ve met and had the good fortune to help. I think back to The Lady, and how without her none of this would be possible.

I like to think she’s proud. 

So, bringing her into SH was inevitable. But I wanted to do so by placing her at the forefront of my cosmology, as the being that started literally everything, someone who filled an empty void with beauty and people and demons and angels and more that lived in harmony (at least for a while). Someone that gave the world magic and strength, and the capacity to do good with both. 

I made her the biggest god I could, the most important, because.

Well.

Again. 

It was the least I could do.

I hope this explains a few things behind the reason she’s important, and why she showed up at all. If you’ve any more questions, I’m happy to answer them in the comments below! Annnnd well, I suppose we’ll see how regularly we can make this. 

I love you all.

Be well.

-j