#IN THE MIDDLE OF AN APOCALYPTIC WAR.

[kosmicpowers]

Someone somewhere must've known he was the son of Poseidon and he could drown their asses if they touch the beans. No other way they coulda survived.

K but honestly the most surprising thing to me is that Percy walked into Hermes cabin, opened his bag and his jellybeans were still there.

You're telling me that CANDY survived the HERMES KIDS UNSUPERVISED????

Sally Jackson must have some Jellybean protection magic or something because I was honestly expecting Percy to pull out an empty bag.

[itsallpoliticsstupid]

Just watched Threads

And I can't help but feel the BBC put it on TV for a reason considering the current issues in the Middle East and Ukraine.

For those who don't know, Threads is a 1984 British Apocalyptic War drama film. It's a dramatic account of a nuclear war and it's effects within Britain, specifically Sheffield. It's starts with an escalation between the Soviet Union and America over Iran.

It's horrifying. Simple. It is horrifying.

The scene that really stuck with me was the two friends in a pub talking about the escalations in the Middle East and one of them simply saying, there's no point in worrying because they can't do anything about it.

Essentially, they're powerless.

And that is just so true, and how I feel about the world right now.

Sometimes the world feels like it's teetering on an edge. Especially when everyday you see further escalations in the Middle East. And then there are the constant threats from Russia to 'bomb the UK' just because we are involved in the war in Ukraine (thankfully these seem to have died down a little), you just hope that those in charge would never take the course of action to start a nuclear war.

There's a term for it, Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD) and sometimes I do wonder if the world will end with a nuclear fallout.

If you do want to be terrified (and are in the UK) definitely give it a watch.

[torpublishinggroup]

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[hancorys]

m.jh — the egg project

genre: enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, crack (bonedo dynamics mentioned) pairing: jaehyun x afab!reader wc: 4.6k warning: they're both a mess, non-stop banters. they kissed at the end. fought because of an egg. listen: antukin — rico blanco, i like me better — lauv, gusto ko lamang sa buhay — itchy worms, but i like you — boynextdoor

you don’t even remember the last time you and jaehyun had a normal conversation. not that you ever really did—because for as long as you’ve both been part of your respective sports teams, the only thing you’ve ever exchanged were complaints.

it started with the mess.

“seriously?” you had scoffed one evening, walking into the gym after the basketball team’s practice, only to find discarded water bottles, sweaty towels, and even an empty sports drink bottle rolling across the floor like a sad little tumbleweed.

the volleyball team had practice right after, and nothing pissed you off more than stepping onto a court that looked like a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

so, like any responsible captain, you took it upon yourself to find the root of the problem. and that root had a name: myung jaehyun.

“hey, jaehyun, clean up your team’s mess next time,” you had called out after one of your shared gym sessions.

jaehyun, who was in the middle of chugging a bottle of water, raised a brow at you. “our mess?”

“yes, yours.” you gestured to the abandoned pile of trash near the bench. “you leave the place looking like a hurricane hit.”

he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugged. “not my fault you’re allergic to a little dirt.”

“not my fault you guys are allergic to basic hygiene.”

leehan, who had been dribbling a basketball nearby, snorted. “dude, she’s got a point.”

“whose side are you on?” jaehyun shot him a glare before turning back to you. “we don’t even leave that much of a mess.”

you let out a short laugh, stepping forward and kicking an empty bottle toward him. it rolled to a stop right by his foot. “oh yeah? then whose bottle is this?”

sungho, who had just been passing by, took one look at the scene and immediately pointed at jaehyun. “definitely his.”

jaehyun gave him a betrayed look. “are you serious?”

“i mean, statistically speaking, it’s more likely to be yours than mine,” sungho said with a lazy shrug. “i actually clean up after myself.”

“that’s a lie and you know it.”

“okay, but do i leave sports drink graveyards on the court? no.”

you crossed your arms and smirked. “see? even your own team thinks you’re the problem.”

jaehyun groaned, bending down to pick up the bottle before lazily tossing it into the trash can. “there. happy now?”

“ecstatic,” you deadpanned. “now do that, but every time.”

from then on, it became an ongoing battle. jaehyun’s team kept leaving behind their junk, and your team kept glaring at them from across the gym. you never actually fought, not really, but there was an unspoken war between the two of you—one built entirely on glares, sarcastic remarks, and aggressively wiping down volleyballs while jaehyun walked past you like he owned the place.

one time, after another particularly messy practice, you had stormed into the basketball team’s locker room, ignoring the immediate groans and complaints from the players inside.

“again?” you huffed, pointing toward the gym doors. “why do i have to keep reminding you guys to pick up after yourselves?”

leehan, who was in the middle of changing into a fresh jersey, blinked at you. “damn, i thought we locked the door.”

“she probably kicked it open,” riwoo muttered, adjusting his towel around his neck.

jaehyun, who was seated on the bench, barely looked up as he tied his shoelaces. “maybe if your team spent less time complaining and more time training, you’d actually win more games.”

your jaw dropped. “excuse me?”

he finally glanced up, a teasing glint in his eyes. “just saying.”

taesan whistled lowly. “oh, you’re dead.”

woonhak patted jaehyun’s shoulder like he was saying his final goodbyes. “it was nice knowing you, man.”

you took a deep breath, shaking your head as you turned on your heel. “you know what? forget it. next time i see even one of your bottles on that floor, i’m chucking it at your head.”

“looking forward to it,” jaehyun called after you, clearly amused.

god, you hated him.

as if the universe wasn’t already laughing at you, things got even worse when your teams had to start training together.

your school had decided that since both the basketball and volleyball teams shared the same gym, you might as well train under the same program for conditioning sessions. this meant early morning drills, weight training, and endurance exercises—together.

it was hell.

not because the training was hard (you could handle that), but because it meant spending more time around him.

the first morning session was already off to a bad start.

“alright, everyone, pair up,” the coach announced. “we’ll be doing partner drills for today’s endurance training.”

immediately, you turned to find one of your teammates, but before you could move, a familiar presence slid up beside you.

“guess we’re stuck together,” jaehyun said, his voice way too chipper for someone who just ran two miles as a warm-up.

you scowled. “who says?”

he gestured around. sure enough, all the pairs had already been formed, leaving you and jaehyun as the only ones unpaired.

“unless you want to run laps alone, i’d say this is fate,” he added, smirking.

you groaned. “curse.”

the drill was simple—one person would hold a plank while the other jumped over them repeatedly. then, you’d switch. simple in theory. infuriating in practice.

you started first, dropping into a plank position while jaehyun jumped over you. the first few were fine. but by the fifth jump, you were sure he was messing with you.

“are you—” you gritted out, arms burning from holding yourself up, “—doing this on purpose?”

jaehyun landed smoothly before hopping over you again. “doing what?”

“jumping so damn slow.”

“you should be thanking me. i’m giving you more time to work on your arm strength.”

you clenched your jaw. “i swear to god—”

“switch!” the coach called.

you got up, shaking out your arms before shooting jaehyun a glare. “watch how it’s actually done.”

he smirked, lowering himself into a plank. “looking forward to it.”

you took a step back, bounced on the balls of your feet, and leapt.

you might’ve landed a little too close to his back.

“jesus—are you trying to kill me?” jaehyun yelped, bracing himself.

“oops,” you said, not looking the least bit sorry.

from then on, training together became a battle of who could annoy the other more.

— 

but the worst part? meal times.

since both teams had the same conditioning schedule, the coaches thought it would be a great idea for you all to eat together in the dining hall. something about team unity and bonding.

you called it suffering.

because every single meal, without fail, jaehyun would find a way to sit across from you.

like today.

“morning, partner.”

you didn’t even look up from your tray of eggs and rice. “go away.”

“nah, i like it here.”

you stabbed at your food aggressively. “why are you like this?”

“like what?” he asked, reaching over to steal a piece of your egg with his fork.

you smacked his hand away. “like that!”

leehan, seated next to jaehyun, chuckled. “dude, one day she’s gonna actually throw hands.”

“and i’ll be ready,” jaehyun said, grinning at you.

you rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to your food, determined to ignore him. but then—

clink.

you glanced up. jaehyun had casually placed his sports drink on your side of the table.

you frowned. “what?”

he smirked. “just marking my territory.”

sungho nearly choked on his juice. “bro, that sounds so wrong.”

taesan snickered. “he means his half of the table.”

you glared. “i hate you all.”

━

and then there was the winking.

the first time he did it, you thought it was an accident.

the second time, you realized it definitely wasn’t.

but by the fifth time? you were convinced he was just doing it to piss you off.

during games, during practice, even in the hallways—jaehyun had made it his personal mission to wink at you whenever he got the chance.

like during one of their practice matches.

you had been forced to stay behind in the gym, waiting for your team’s turn. so, unfortunately, you had a front-row seat to watching jaehyunshow off.

you sat on the bleachers, arms crossed, watching as jaehyun dribbled past a defender with ridiculous ease. he moved with that effortless confidence, quick on his feet, spinning past his opponent before driving straight to the basket.

the ball swished through the hoop, nothing but net. his teammates erupted into cheers.

jaehyun turned, scanning the gym, and then—

wink.

you scowled immediately. “oh, for fuck’s sake.”

your teammate, yuna, who was sitting beside you, snorted. “what is his problem?”

“he is the problem,” you muttered, gripping your water bottle with unnecessary force.

yuna hummed, clearly entertained. “you know, for someone who ‘hates’ him, you sure do pay a lot of attention.”

“i have to! someone needs to keep his ego in check.”

as if to prove your point, jaehyun jogged back to his side of the court, smug as ever, and made direct eye contact with you again.

you knew what was coming.

another wink.

you groaned dramatically, throwing your head back. “i hate him.”

woonhak, who had overheard from the bench, grinned. “that’s funny, ‘cause he sure loves pissing you off.”

you shot him a glare. “gee, really? hadn’t noticed.”

━

the winking didn’t stop. if anything, it got worse.

during practice, in the dining hall, even when you passed him in the hallways—he somehow found a way to send you that stupid, infuriating wink.

like today, after your volleyball practice.

you had just finished a brutal set of drills, sweat dripping down your back, when you spotted the basketball team lingering near the entrance. they must’ve been waiting for their turn in the gym.

and, of course, jaehyun was right at the front.

you barely spared him a glance as you grabbed your water bottle from the bench, but that didn’t stop him.

“looking good, captain,” he called out.

you narrowed your eyes. “shut up, jaehyun.”

he laughed, raising his hands in surrender before winking.

you swore you saw red.

leehan, standing beside him, sighed. “dude, what if she actually kills you?”

“nah,” jaehyun said, grinning, “i think she’d miss me too much.”

you threw your towel at his face.

━

but as much as you hated to admit it, life was never boring with jaehyun around.

even when the two of you were forced into situations that made you want to rip your hair out—like the latest disaster your biology professor had cooked up.

the day had started out normal enough. until you got your test results back.

you stared at the glaring red F on your biology test, feeling your soul leave your body.

beside you, jaehyun whistled, holding up his own paper with an identical F. “ouch.”

you turned to glare at him. “why are you failing?”

he shrugged. “dunno. wasn’t paying attention.”

“of course you weren’t.”

before you could spiral into a full-blown academic crisis, your professor cleared his throat, looking way too pleased for someone who had just failed half the class.

“since many of you didn’t do well on the test,” he began, eyes twinkling mischievously, “i’ve decided to give you all an opportunity to redeem yourselves.”

murmurs filled the classroom. you remained suspicious.

“you will be given a partner—someone who also failed.”

you immediately got a bad feeling.

“together, you will complete an assignment on responsibility and care. an experiment, if you will.”

you glanced at jaehyun, who looked just as confused.

the professor smiled. “for the next week, you will take care of an egg.”

silence.

then—

“a what.”

the professor clasped his hands together. “an egg! consider it a simulation of caring for a delicate, fragile life. you must protect it at all costs and document your progress. and, of course, your partner will be chosen randomly.”

your stomach dropped.

and then—

“y/n and jaehyun,” the professor announced.

you slammed your head onto your desk.

jaehyun, meanwhile, let out a low whistle. “well. this should be fun.”

you turned your head slightly to glare at him, cheek still pressed against the desk. “i swear to god, if you break our egg, i’m breaking you.”

he grinned. “relax, partner. we’ve got this.”

you groaned. “this is literally my worst nightmare.”

jaehyun leaned back, crossing his arms. “nah. your worst nightmare is me leaving the gym extra messy just for you.”

you lifted your head just enough to glare at him. “don’t test me.”

he winked.

you nearly flipped your desk.

“now listen carefully,” your professor continued. “your assignment is simple. you must keep your egg safe for one full week. if it cracks, you fail. if you forget it somewhere, you fail. if i so much as suspect that you’re not taking this seriously, you fail.”

you felt a headache forming.

professor lee’s eyes narrowed. “and trust me, i’ll know.”

a collective shudder ran through the class. professor lee was infamous for his unconventional teaching methods. last semester, he had made students carry around cabbages as part of a psychology experiment. cabbages.

you glanced at jaehyun, who was still grinning like he had won the lottery.

he thinks this is a joke.

you groaned. “i’m so screwed.”

“nah,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “we got this.”

you turned to him, deadpan. “jaehyun. you literally failed this class.”

he placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “so did you.”

“yeah, but at least i actually tried.”

he snorted. “right. well, don’t worry, partner. our egg’s in good hands.”

you didn’t believe that for a second.

“one last thing,” professor lee added, holding up a basket. “before you leave, come up and receive your child.”

you almost choked.

child?

yuna was practically vibrating with laughter beside you. “you’re gonna be a great mom.”

“shut up.”

jaehyun, on the other hand, was already making his way to the front, completely unbothered. when he returned, he was holding the egg in his palm, studying it like it was some ancient relic.

“alright, partner,” he said, plopping into his seat. “meet our kid.”

you stared at it.

it was just a normal egg. nothing special. fragile, small, and already giving you anxiety.

“we’re so failing this,” you muttered.

jaehyun scoffed. “have a little faith.”

you gave him a pointed look. “jaehyun. be honest. how long do you think you can go without dropping it?”

he paused.

then—

“...three days?”

you groaned again.

this was going to be the longest week of your life.

—

the first day of the project was already testing every ounce of patience you had.

you and jaehyun sat at one of the library tables, your so-called child resting in an old coffee cup between you. professor lee had made it clear that this assignment wasn’t just about keeping the egg safe—you had to document everything. feeding schedules (which made zero sense), bedtime routines, and even bonding activities.

you hated every second of it.

“this is the dumbest thing i’ve ever done,” you muttered, tapping your pen against the table.

jaehyun, who was busy doodling little lightning bolts around the word thunder in your shared notebook, smirked. “that’s because you lack vision.”

“oh, i have vision. i see our grades plummeting.”

he leaned back in his chair, tossing his pen in the air before catching it effortlessly. “relax, co-parent. we just have to act like responsible adults for a week.”

you squinted at him. “you literally left the egg unattended five minutes ago to go buy chips.”

he waved you off. “our kid was fine. independent.”

“it's an egg.”

“it's our egg.”

you exhaled sharply, choosing to ignore him as you scribbled in the notebook. but then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught him reaching for the cup.

you tensed immediately.

“what are you doing?”

“holding my child.”

“no. no touching.” you moved the cup further away. “i don’t trust you.”

he looked genuinely offended. “wow. you were the one who almost knocked it over earlier.”

“because you distracted me!”

“because you were making that stupid face while writing.”

“stupid face?” you gawked at him. “i do not make a stupid face.”

he shrugged. “if the shoe fits.”

you smacked his arm with the notebook. “contribute to this or i’m making you do the whole thing by yourself.”

“fine, fine,” he sighed, taking the pen from you. he twirled it between his fingers before scrawling something next to your notes.

you glanced at the paper.

“bonding activity: jaehyun teaches the egg how to shoot a three-pointer.”

you stared at him.

“you’re a menace,” you said.

he grinned. “and yet, here we are. bonded for life.”

you groaned, dropping your head onto the table.

and somewhere in the distance, leehan and taesan—who had been watching from another table—exchanged glances before bursting into quiet laughter.

the first time you stepped into jaehyun’s room, you had one goal: check on the egg, make sure it was intact, and leave.

but of course, nothing was ever that simple with him.

“welcome to the nursery,” jaehyun said, kicking the door shut behind him.

you rolled your eyes. “nursery? it’s your room.”

“our son lives here now,” he replied, completely serious. “show some respect.”

you sighed, stepping past him. his room was… surprisingly neat. you expected a mess—basketballs lying around, clothes thrown over furniture, maybe even an unmade bed. but aside from a few scattered notebooks and a pile of hoodies in the corner, it was normal.

too normal.

“where is it?” you asked, crossing your arms.

jaehyun walked over to his desk and held up a small shoebox. he lifted the lid, revealing the egg nestled in a bundle of socks.

you blinked. “you put it in a box?”

“i made a crib,” he corrected, placing the box gently on his bed. “cozy, right?”

you sat down at the edge of the bed, peering inside. "you could’ve at least used a tissue or something instead of Nike socks."

“those are premium cushioning. only the best for our kid.”

you scoffed, but you couldn’t deny that the egg was perfectly fine. untouched. safe.

and then, jaehyun did something unexpected—he sat next to you. not across from you, not at his desk, but right next to you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

the usual chaos, the usual bickering, the usual tension that made you want to strangle him—it was still there. but something else settled in between the silence.

it was different here.

“so,” he said, voice quieter than usual. “how’s it feel knowing our son sleeps in my room?”

you turned to glare at him, but the second you did, you realized just how close he was.

your breath caught.

he was leaning on one arm, watching you with a lazy smirk, the kind that usually annoyed you to no end. but here, in this room, on this bed, it felt like something else.

something you didn’t want to name.

“i don’t care where it sleeps,” you muttered, looking away. “i just don’t want it broken.”

“i’ll take care of it,” he said, and for once, there was no teasing in his tone.

you swallowed. “good.”

but when you tried to stand up, he didn’t move.

“jaehyun.”

“hm?”

“move.”

he grinned. "say please."

you shoved his shoulder, and he finally let you go with a laugh, flopping back onto the bed as you practically sprinted for the door.

“same time tomorrow, co-parent?” he called after you.

you slammed the door behind you, heart pounding.

your hell starts the moment you start noticing things about jaehyun that you shouldn’t be noticing.

it’s the way he moves on the court—fast, precise, like he already knows exactly where the ball will land before it even gets there. it’s the way he runs a hand through his hair when he’s frustrated, the way he rolls his shoulders before a free throw, the way his eyes flicker to you after making a perfect shot, as if waiting for your reaction.

and it’s infuriating.

because now, even when you’re supposed to be focusing on your game, your team, your own plays—jaehyun lingers at the back of your mind like an annoying pop song you can’t get rid of.

but the worst part? it’s not just at the gym.

it’s when you’re in his room, sitting on his bed, checking on the egg like always. except now, you’re hyperaware of how close he sits, how he sometimes lets his arm rest against yours like it’s nothing. how, when you pout at him over something stupid—like the way he insists on calling your egg “junior” instead of a normal name—his gaze flickers to your lips for half a second too long.

and jaehyun?

he’s in denial.

because this was not supposed to happen. he wasn’t supposed to want to kiss you when you scolded him. wasn’t supposed to feel heat creeping up his neck when you absentmindedly played with your necklace while talking. wasn’t supposed to care that your team captain from another school once called you “impressive” after a practice match.

he wasn’t supposed to want you.

and unfortunately for him, his friends have noticed.

“so,” woonhak drawls one afternoon, lazily dribbling a basketball as they sit on the bleachers, watching you and your team wrap up practice. “when are you gonna admit it?”

jaehyun doesn’t even look up. “admit what?”

leehan snorts. “that you like her, dumbass.”

“i don’t,” jaehyun scoffs, leaning back against the bench.

sungho raises a brow. “right. that’s why you’re staring at her like she personally offended you by existing.”

jaehyun looks away immediately, only for leehan to chuckle.

“you do realize she probably feel the same way, right?”

that makes jaehyun freeze for a second.

taesan hums. “she still argue with you, sure. but i see the way she get all flustered when you compliment her. she didn’t used to react like that.”

jaehyun opens his mouth to deny it again, but then he thinks back.

to the way you stumbled over your words last week when he casually told you your spike was getting better. to the way your breath hitched when he tucked your hair behind your ear. to the way you hesitated before leaving his room the other night, as if you were starting to feel this too.

maybe his friends were right.

and that’s when jaehyun decides: it’s time to test the waters.

so he starts pushing boundaries—just a little.

at the gym, after practice, he doesn’t just wink at you like usual. he lingers, waiting for you to react, grinning when you groan and shove him away.

when you come over to check on the egg, he always has food ready, pretending it’s no big deal when he slides a plate toward you.

“i didn’t ask for this,” you huff, poking at the meal he made.

“didn’t say you did,” he shrugs, sitting across from you. “but you always look tired after practice. eat.”

and that confuses you.

because what the hell is he doing? what the hell does he want?

you’d always known jaehyun as the annoying basketball captain who drove you insane, but now…

now he’s holding your hand a second longer than necessary. now he’s calling you “co-parent” with a lazy grin that makes your stomach twist in a way you don’t want to acknowledge. now he’s casually running a hand through his hair while watching you in between classes, like he knows something you don’t.

and you hate that it scares you.

because if this is just another game to him, if he’s just messing with you—then why does it feel so real?

the egg cracks.

not metaphorically—though, honestly, it might as well be—but literally.

you’re standing in jaehyun’s room, holding what used to be your child (as he so dramatically called it), staring at the jagged fracture running across the eggshell. your breath catches in your throat.

“oh, shit,” you whisper.

jaehyun, who had been leaning against his desk, looks up from his phone. “what?”

you slowly turn to him, the broken egg cradled in your hands like a crime scene.

“we killed junior.”

for a moment, there’s silence. then—

“oh my god,” jaehyun breathes out, eyes widening.

“we’re failures.”

“we’re murderers.”

“professor lee is going to slaughter us.”

“okay, first of all,” jaehyun says, quickly moving toward you, “you’re the one who dropped it—”

“don’t you dare pin this on me.”

“—and second,” he continues, ignoring you, “we just need a replacement.”

you blink at him. “you want to… replace our child?”

“wouldn’t be the first time people switched babies at birth,” he shrugs.

“you’re insane.”

“do you want to fail?”

you purse your lips. no. but—

jaehyun sighs. “look, we can sit here mourning an egg, or we can fix the problem. your call.”

you scowl at him, but he’s right. begrudgingly, you set the cracked egg down and grab your bag.

“fine. but if we get caught—”

“we won’t,” he grins, already grabbing his car keys and intertwining his hand with yours, “let’s go, co-parent.”

—

you manage to replace the egg. you turn in your project. you pass.

but that’s not the ending.

the ending is this:

it’s late, and you’re at jaehyun’s house, sprawled out on his bed like always. the ceiling fan hums softly overhead, casting slow-moving shadows against the walls. the scent of his cologne lingers in the air—clean, familiar, a little too comforting. he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, lazily spinning a basketball on his finger, gaze half-lidded with concentration.

you’re supposed to feel relieved. the project is over. the ridiculous assignment, the stress, the stupid arguments—you survived it all. but your head is still spinning, not from exhaustion, but from something else. something heavier.

because things have shifted. you don’t bicker as much anymore. the teasing has changed. the tension isn’t sharp—it’s something softer now, something unspoken that curls around the edges of your conversations. something that lingers in the way his eyes stay on you a little longer than they should.

“so,” jaehyun says suddenly, voice cutting through the quiet. “you’re still thinking about it.”

you blink at him. “thinking about what?”

he finally looks at you, and the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s amused.

“us.”

your stomach flips. you sit up too fast, the mattress dipping beneath you. “there’s no us.”

jaehyun smirks. slow. knowing. like he’s heard the lie in your voice before you even said it.

“sure,” he hums, spinning the ball again. “but i think about it.”

your breath hitches.

“what?”

he tosses the ball aside. it rolls off the bed, thudding softly onto the carpet, but you barely hear it over the sudden rush of blood in your ears. because he’s shifting, leaning in, invading your space in a way that makes your pulse stutter.

closer than necessary. closer than friends should be.

“i think about how much fun it is to piss you off,” he murmurs, and his voice is different this time—lower, rougher. “i think about how much i like having you around.”

his hand lifts, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. the touch is barely there, but it burns.

“and i think about how, if i kissed you right now, you wouldn’t stop me.”

your breath catches.

because he’s right.

but the worst part? you don’t want to stop him.

you don’t move when his gaze flickers down to your lips. you don’t push him away when his fingers graze your jaw, thumb tracing slow, feather-light circles against your skin.

and when he finally tilts his head and closes the distance, when his lips press against yours in something hesitant but undeniably real—

you kiss him back.

© hancorys, 2025.

[giulzart]

hey can u give me interactive fiction recs? i went down a rabbit hole with wayhaven and infamous and i need something to fill a void 🙏

Hi, sure i’ll list some of the blogs on here from ifs i’m playing and enjoying and I hope something will fill the void haha

If you like wayhaven try and check out:

@barbwritesstuff Bloodmoon and Thicker Than - the themes are different but you get vampires and werewolf in modern times creating a bond with others peers plus you have to solve mystery and navigate powerplays so they’re both very fun!

@vapolis Remember You Will Die - it’s a bit darker theme wise(cyberpunk/sci-fi), but the MC is so fun and unhinged and the RO’s as well haha

@vendetta-if Vendetta - again different theme but you have complicated family, you get cool powers and the fighting scenes are chef kiss imo

Instead if you liked infamous:

@pressplay-if Press Play - it’s music themed. It’s an esclusive interview with the members of a retired famous band after years since they disbanded. The author said it’s a tragedy and your MC is probably not gonna have an happy ending with the ROs so you’ve been warned haha

@apt502-if Apartment 502 - Kind of has a New Girl/Friends vibes. It’s a slice of life, you move to New York and get a new job, meet new people but you also lose someone… it has sooo many choices and opportunities for customising your MC, fyi your MC is not gonna have an easy time in the beginning just so you know

@loveandleases Love and Leases - slice of life, you get to move on after a break up and some family drama. Lots of nice ROs with different vibes and personality, also I’m a sucker for these sitcom like ifs cause I love to see how it goes and evolves!

I’m add some fantasy options ‘case I really like these too.

(Some of them have some warnings so i suggest read those before checking out the actual if!)

@virtues-end Virtue’s End - I’m a sucker for the aesthetic of this if, gives me gothic fantasy Middle Ages with a little bit of Bloodborne vibes sprinkled in there and I’ve been loving all the chapters (also Shea has me and my mc in a chokehold hahah)

@night-market-if The Night Market - I really admire and appreciate the world building of this if (also love all the hints at mythology and take on some religions in it) and how it’s not all so black and white for the characters, in the sense that even if I don’t agree with the choices of some characters I still get where they’re coming from and for me that’s characters well written that I enjoy!

@louroth Ouroboros - darker theme, apocalyptic vibes but with some magic and fantasy in there. I like the different MCs you can make and you also have some monster options for the ROs, if you like that!

@ataleofcrowns A tale of Crowns - The setting for this if is one of my faves and all the ROs are captivating yet diverse along with their backstory and I love the building of the MC as well (check out D storyline if you like the angst of A’s in Wayhaven, they’re very different but the angst hits good)

@coeluvr Crown of Ashes and Flame - I really like the setting and, again, you can seek vengence, if you want, and the characters are all interesting and you can get a nice dose of angst if that’s what you like

@llamagirl28 The Bastard of Camelot - again really enjoy the theme of Arthurian legends and the spin the author chose. You get a lot of options for the ROs to pick from and you can also choose the type of relationship you’ll have with your parents AND you get a dragon (read the warning before playing and make sure you’re comfortable with what you’re gonna read)

@intimidatingpuffinstudios The Soulstone War Series - again fantasy with magic, dragons, an interesting plot, you get a donkey and the RO’s are all hot hahaha

@fallenhero-rebirth The Fallen Hero Series - superhero themed but in an apocalyptic world and you play as the villain! It was one of the first if’s I’ve played and I still replay it every once in a while cause I really like it!

I’d have added more but the list was already long so maybe I’ll do a part 2 hahah!

[allieebobo]

Have some ideas rattling around in my head. Would be super interested to know what the general interest level is like for each. Please vote for your absolute favorite!

Cross posted to cog forums and reddit.

Descriptions below:

“City of Smoke and Shadows” is a gritty martial arts fantasy set in alternate-history 1930s Shanghai, with lush world-building, distinctive characters, and elaborate game mechanics for street brawls, action-packed duels, political scheming, relationship-building, and clan management.

There is an ancient, secret method of cultivating and roasting tea-leaves, cha, which allows it to be smoked in cigars, granting heightened awareness, martial prowess, and prophetic visions. European colonial powers, tired of buying expensive, processed cha from noble families in Shanghai, want the recipe. So do the Chinese disenfranchised lower and middle-class, who are no longer contented with letting cha remain in the hands of the privileged few—bootleg cha distributors have popped up like mushrooms.

You play as the youngest child of the Wu family, a clan that controls one-third of the cha trade in Shanghai. You’ve spent the past five years abroad, trying to distance yourself from your family’s bloody legacy… that is, until your brother’s murder drags you back to a fractured city you barely recognize.

In a world where loyalties shift like the wind, and personal vendettas collide with political ambitions, you’ll need to keep your friends close—and your enemies even closer. Violent revolution brews in the shadows, and colonial powers threaten to swallow the Empire whole.

----

“Cyclopunk” is a compact, imaginative take on the survival-adventure genre. In a climate-ravaged, war-torn post-apocalyptic universe, you have lung cancer. Bike across bleak, desolate landscapes to the mythical Tri-domes for a supposed cure. The clock is ticking down, but the way to the Tri-Domes is perilous.

Pick from many possible branching routes—explore flooded scavenger cities, floating fishing settlements on swamplands, magnificent garden-domes set like jewels in barren deserts, and cave-dwelling colonies. Encounter colorful (and sometimes morally complicated) side quests, distinctive characters, new forms of flora and fauna along the way.

----

“Golden Boot” is a modern slice-of-life episodic game where you start as a 6-year old who lives for football—slowly shape your character and your story—both on and off the pitch. Realize your dream of becoming a football legend step by step. From childhood training matches to cutthroat youth academies to a make-it-or-break-it Premier league debut to the biggest stage of all: electrifying World Cup, every decision you make will impact your rise to fame—or fall into obscurity.

Thrilling, high-octane football matches accompany a rich tapestry of scenes that make up the highs and lows of a football player, from falling in love, dealing with heated rivalries, buying your first house, or shaping your public persona. **Golden Boot** is about football—and so much more. It’s about coming-of-age, the people you meet along the way, and the things you’re willing to sacrifice for a dream.

----

In "Silver Screen", step into the glamorous, glitzy world of 1950s Hollywood, where you play an actor or actress of colour striving for stardom in an industry that’s as much about politics as it is about performance. Divided into five acts, each representing a new film you’ve been picked to star in, you will navigate the challenges of the showbiz—starting from a complete unknown, dreaming of stardom.

As your career evolves, every choice you make—how you deliver your lines, your relationship with co-stars and directors and crew, your stance on social issues—can determine your future in Hollywood. Will you rise to become a beloved icon, carve out a niche as a critical darling, or fall into the trap of typecasting and scandal? Romance a fellow star, a politician, or a screenwriter-director. Build a family and legacy—while keeping your career intact in an industry that can make or break you overnight.

-----

In "Space Diner”, you play an ex-bootleg space smuggler who’s on the run from the authorities. Desperate to lay low, you stow away on what you think is a simple cargo ship—only to discover it’s a food truck operating across the farthest reaches of the galaxy. After the owner threatens to toss you out the airlock for your sneaky stowaway antics, you convince them to let you stay by claiming you’re a chef, and asking for a job—as someone who knows nothing about food preparation, you’ll need to fake it till you make it (and hopefully not poison anyone or burn down the space truck while you’re at it).

Learn the ins and outs of cooking, managing the space truck’s finances, navigating the galaxy, haggling for supplies at space ports, and caring for the exotic plants in the hydroponic garden so that there’s food to put on the table. Serve up delicious meals to all sorts of different alien customers from grumpy office workers to swashbuckling space adventurers, all with different ideas of what counts as ‘sustenance’. Experiment with new recipes, travel through asteroid fields, space stations, mining colonies, and wonderous new cities. Can you avoid capture, befriend the space truck owner, and become the most beloved space truck in the galaxy? Or will your past catch up with you…?

-----

__ (untitled) is a cozy fantasy take on the musical band genre. You’re in a band with your best friends: a cheerful orc bassist, a brooding elven drummer, and a charismatic dwarven keyboardist. Together, you’ll travel from tavern to tavern in a vibrant, medieval Japanese inspired world, performing for ever-growing crowds, honing your musical skills, and navigating the ups and downs of life on the road. Craft your own songs, choose your musical genre, and shape your band’s style while building meaningful relationships with the people you meet along the way.

Explore colorful towns, meet quirky locals, and unlock new opportunities as you become a rising star in the music scene. Whether you’re trying to break into the elite performance venues or just jamming in a humble village square, the music you create and the bonds you build will define your journey. Can your band make it big—or will the struggle for success tear your small ragtag crew apart?

[reasonsforhope]

"Proving that change is possible if the will to create it is present, Chinese megacities like Beijing that were once famous for their apocalyptic grey skies are enjoying the lowest levels of air pollution they’ve experienced in the 21st century.

Falling 42% from an average high in 2013 when Chinese air pollution was higher than 50 particles per cubic centimeters of city air, the change has increased the lifespan of Chinese urbanites by 2.2 years.

The news comes from a report published by the University of Chicago called the Air Quality Life Index which listed some of the actions taken by the Chinese government to reduce air pollution, described by the CCP as a “war on pollution.”

This has included reducing the presence of heavy industry like steel production in city centers, as well as restricting coal power plants from being built inside cities while shuttering those that were already there.

Some cities like Beijing have reduced the number of cars allowed on the roads during peak hours, similar to London’s congestion charge. Lastly, China’s mass urban tree-planting campaigns have been well documented.

While the life expectancy has risen on average 2.2 years, some cities have seen far more drastic increases. Citizens living under the new “Beijing Blue,” are predicted to live 4 additional years, while those 11 million in the north-central city of Baoding are predicted to gain 6.

“At the foundation of those actions were common elements: political will and resources, both human and financial, that reinforced each other,” the report said. “When the public and policymakers have these tools, action becomes much more likely.”

In fact, the decline in China’s pollution levels has been so drastic that it lowered the world average, which the report says would have increased if not for the Middle Kingdom’s war on pollution.

Although Chinese city air is still several times higher than the WHO’s recommended minimum, it shows what’s accomplishable with political and civic effort—particularly to its neighbors in South Asia where the report warns air quality is worsening."

-via Good News Network, September 1, 2023

[d20-lesbian]

AFTER AN OVERWHELMING WAVE OF SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT, I'VE DECIDED TO POST THE WILL WOOD ESSAY!!!! it's below the break !!!!

I would like to really quickly state though that this essay is my property, I put a lot of time and effort into this, so please don't claim it as your own !!!! thank you <33

I will be analysing Will Wood’s song ‘Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Marybell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally’. which, for simplicity, most fans refer to as simply ‘Suburbia Overture’. This song is the first on his first solo album entitled ‘The Normal Album’, which came out in July 2020.

This song, in the most general possible terms, is a criticism of modern suburban life, how it is advertised as “the perfect life”, and how this advertising is incredibly false unless you fit the picture perfect standard that these facets of society seem to require.

The song itself is split up into 3 distinct sections, "Greetings from The Marybell Township!", “(Vampire) Culture” and “Love Me, Normally”. I'll be tackling each section one at a time in order to properly break down what each means, what different analogies they use, how they all relate to each other and the intended end result of the song and the message it intends to convey.

Let's begin with 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!'.

This section of the song uses a lot of analogies that compare suburban life to a warzone, the first line of this section being “white picket fences, barbed wire and trenches”. This section also focuses heavily on the concept of the nuclear family, and it often literalises the term and uses analogies based around radiation and nuclear warfare. Such analogies can be found in lines such as “the snap crackle pop of the Geiger, camouflage billboards for lead lined Brookes Brothers”. Now there's a couple of terms that require definitions in this line. The first of course being “the Geiger”. A Geiger counter, which is what this lyric is referring to, is a tool used to measure levels of harmful radiation. This, paired with the concept of billboards advertising “lead-lined Brookes Brothers” when lead is a material used to deflect radiation, and the knowledge that ‘Brookes Brothers’ is an American vintage style clothing brand, this line really paints a picture of a seemingly post apocalyptic/post nuclear war but still consumerist and capitalistic suburban society. The last line in that verse is “buy now or die”, which ties back to the concept of safety equipment being advertised on billboards, while residents of this town have no choice but to buy the products. This all relates back to the hyperconsumerism that plagues our society, and runs particularly rampant in middle to upper middle class neighbourhoods. The very same neighbourhoods that are often referred to as “suburban”

In the second verse of this section there are a lot of hard hitting lyrics that to me really show that this perfect idealised life is far from perfect or even good, so we will work through them one by one because I feel that they all deserve proper analysis.

The first line that i want to point out from that verse is the line “takes a village to fake a whole culture” which is clearly a rip off of the phrase “it takes a village [to raise a child]” but it also references the fact that usually suburban towns are incredibly monotonous in both residents and architecture, and so it takes the collective effort of the entire population of the town to pretend that there is an actual culture to it.

The next few lines I'll speak on all come in quick succession of one another, essentially blending them into one line.

“Your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball, your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall.”

So let's break these down. This line is easily split into 4 distinct phrases, and all of these phrases have a few things in common, which I will point out later.

“Your ear to the playground” is a play on the phrase “ear to the ground” which essentially means that the person with their ‘ear to the ground’ is attempting to carefully gather intel about something. Someone having their ear to the playground simply reinforces the idea of this suburban “paradise” being. Not as paradise-y as one would hope, seeing as the people who use playgrounds most of all are children, so this line is demonstrating that the picture perfect life that this suburban town offers is actually corrupting children so young that they are still on the playground.

The next phrase is “your eye on the ball” isn't a play on anything and is in fact in itself a common phrase. To have your eye on the ball means to be entirely focused in and paying attention to something, and not allowing anything to divert your attention. Given the last line this line very well could be another reference to the corruption of the youth and the idea that their every day play has already been tainted with the hostilities of modern life usually reserved for adults.

Following this is another well known saying “your head in the gutter” which, as most know, someone whos head is ‘in the gutter’ is someone who will see some sort of innuendo or otherwise vulgar/inappropriate meaning in something that was intended to be entirely innocent, leading to others in the interaction telling the perpetrator to ‘get [their] mind out of the gutter’

And finally, in my opinion the most hard hitting phrase in this set, “your brains on the wall” which is clearly in reference to the notion of ending your own life with a shot to the head, which would lead to, well, brains being on the wall. These last 2 phrases come in stark contrast to the seemingly picture perfect life that suburban towns offer and advertise, the concepts of suicide and perversion are not concepts one expects to see or hear when imagining this idealised form of life.

There is one main similarity in each of the 4 phrases, that being that each phrase has some body part being on something else, your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball, your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall. This similarity almost offers a body horror aspect to the song, which when paired with the concept that this is written about a seemingly post nuclear apocalyptic town presents an interesting idea of possible mutation, but i'll be the first to admit that may be a little far fetched. However that's not the only similarity that these 4 phrases share, another is the fact that they are all directly, or only slightly modified versions of already well known phrases, a similarity that is found in many lines over this entire song, through all 3 sections.

I want to analyse a few more lines before we move on to the second section of the song.

This next line comes directly after the previously analysed line, and it goes “home is where the heart is, you ain't homeless, but you’re heartless”

Sticking with the theme of using already existing and commonly used phrases, “home is where the heart is'' is once again a phrase that you could likely find as a cross stitch hung up on the wall of any of the homogenous houses you could likely find in this idealised suburbia. But what Wood is saying in this line is that home is where the heart is, and that while people in this town may not be homeless, they are certainly heartless, meaning that they in fact don't have homes. They have houses. Rows upon rows of houses that all look the exact same in the horrifying monotony that is suburban living.

Following this line is the lyric “it's the safest on the market, but you still gotta watch where you park it”. These lines seem to be in reference to buying a car. The car being the "safest on the market" is likely in reference to the fact that it may have a lot of safety features. But this is immediately negated by the fact that you “still gotta watch where you park it” meaning that the safety features could be a reason that the car gets stolen, rendering all the safety that those features offered useless because in the end it made the car and the owner less safe.

In the third verse of this section, you immediately hear the line “so give me your half-life crisis” which partially is a play on the term ‘mid life crisis’ wherein which one realises that they may have wasted their life up till that point and they're already halfway through, but the use of the term “half-life��� instead of ‘mid-life’ is very intentional, as the term “half-life” can also be used to refer to the half-life of an isotope, which is the amount of time that isotope takes to lose half of its radiation, which ties back into the theme of radiation that we see mentioned a lot in this section.

Later in the same verse is the line “if it's true that a snowflake only matters in a blizzard”, which is interesting in a few ways, first, it brings up the idea of a singular individual means nothing on their own and that they only matter when they’re part of something larger or a larger group, but i also think that the use of the terms “snowflake” and “blizzard” instead of something like ‘raindrop’ and ‘storm’ is very intentional in the fact that snowflakes are known for being individual, none are alike, every single one is different. So saying that a snowflake doesn't matter unless it's in a blizzard is yet another hit at individuality, essentially implying that in this town individuality means nothing and is essentially rendered useless.

The final line in this verse is “everybody's all up in my-” repeated thrice, and on the third time the sentence is finished to say “everybody’s all up in my business” and before the word “business” can be finished its overlapped with the beginning of the chorus, the first word of which is a very loud “SUBURBIAAAA!”. I believe this is reminiscent of the fact that in towns like this, everyone cares so much about what everyone else is doing, they’re all so interested in everyone else's business, and i think that sentiment being stated and cut off by the word “Suburbia” is essentially saying that ‘this is the norm, this is just Suburbia, this is how it works around here.’

After the final chorus of this section, in the final verse, you'll find the line “chameleon peacocks are talk of the town” which particularly interests me because if you know anything about chameleons or peacocks you’d find that they seem incredibly different as animals. Chameleons blend into their environment in order to stay safe, whereas peacocks are known for parading around bright colours to make themselves look better, but if you think about it the term “chameleon peacock” actually makes a lot of sense, a person who blends into their surroundings in order to make themselves look good. This sentiment seems to perfectly describe the homogeneity of the people that live in these perfect towns, they're all the same, they blend in with one another in order to make themselves look good, or perfect.

Another line heard shortly afterwards is the phrase “he cums radiation”, rather vulgar, I grant you, but it's important because it is yet another literalisation of the phrase ‘nuclear family’. It could also be a reference to the general toxicity of this societal norm.

The final line in this section of the song is “the dog bites the postman, as basement eyes dream of a night at the drive-in, with an AR-15”. Which is another use of juxtaposition, intended to cause a kind of whiplash in the listener and reinforce the idea that while in this place there is scenarios that would happen in a hollywood movie esque picture perfect neighbourhood, like the dog biting the postman, there's also horrors that lurk below the surface. (although clearly not TOO far below.)

Now let’s move on to the second part, ‘(Vampire) Culture’.

If you listen to the song, you’ll immediately be able to recognise where 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' ends and ‘(Vampire) Culture’ begins, due to the insane juxtaposition between the two. Where 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' is soft and sort of reminiscent of the 1950’s, ‘(Vampire) Culture’ is loud, jarring and grotesque, complemented with much raspier and strained sounding vocals compared to 'Greetings from The Marybell Township!' ’s soft and melodic ones. The tone for this section of the song is immediately set with much more graphic lyrics, the very first line of this section (after the opening scream) is “i dropped my eyeballs in the bonfire, we fucked on a bed of nails” which absolutely sets the scene for how different this section will be to the previous.

This song immediately jumps into using cannibalism as a metaphor, with the first line after the jump start opener being “I caught kuru from your sister, and I'm laughing in jail”. While this line is written to sound like the concept of catching an STD from an act of adultery, Kuru is actually a disease only found in human brain tissue, meaning that you can only contract this disease by eating a human brain, and what's one of the symptoms for this disease? Uncontrollable laughter.

This use of cannibalism as a metaphor is used again immediately after in the line “smell those screaming teenage sweetbreads on that 4th of July grill”, ‘sweetbread’ is the term used to refer to the pancreas and thymus gland of an animal, usually a lamb, but in this particular case it is in reference to the human teenagers that supposedly lived in The Marybell Township, or a least they did before they were dissected, cooked and served at a neighbourhood 4th of July barbeque hosted by the same people that were once referred to as their neighbours.

This line adds an interesting level of patriotism to the song and criticism of how America utilises patriotism and their love for their country as means to justify harming the youth, however a 4th of July neighbourhood barbeque is also commonly associated with white picket fence gated community America, which ties us back to the base criticism of that style of life and how it is seen as the “proper” and “perfect” way to live.

These cannibalistic sentiments are followed up with the line “smile and wave boys, kiss the cook, live laugh and love, please pass the pills.” which brings us back to the repeated use of commonly known sayings being taken directly or modified only slightly to remind the listener of the setting were in, that being a seemingly 1950’s era tight knit neighbourhood.

Phrases like “live laugh [and] love” or “kiss the cook” are both phrases that could easily be seen in a setting like this, especially “kiss the cook”, as this is a phrase commonly associated with aprons worn by grillmasters at neighbourhood barbeques, not unlike the cannibalistic 4th of July barbeque that this particular neighbourhood seems to be hosting.

These phrases being immediately followed up with a sentiment such as “please pass the pills” serves to entirely undermine the pleasantries that, until a moment ago, seemed to be plastered all over the faces of the people living in this fictional town that Wood has created. I think that final phrase brings the listener back to the realisation that not all is right here, quite the opposite in fact, and drags them from their momentary paradise.

Circling back very quickly to the phrase “smile and wave”. I felt the need to point out that this phrase has been used for centuries as a way to say “stop talking and act normal” which once again reinforces that these people are pretending to be something they’re not in order to fit in.

We enter the next verse with the repeated phrase “it's only culture”, after that line is repeated three times we hear “sulfur, smoke and soot”, which could either be a reference to how dirty and disgusting the ‘culture’ is, or it could be a different way of saying that this culture and the people participating are going to hell, as per the common phrase ‘fire and brimstone’ and the fact that sulfur is another way of saying brimstone, and smoke and soot are both byproducts of fire.

The last line of this verse and the first line of the chorus blend into each other, so I’ll speak on them both.

First, the last line of the verse. It goes “you cocked and sucked your lack of empathy, pulled the trigger with your foot to prove you've got-”

Putting aside the clear innuendo, this line refers to the idea of ending one's own life with a long shotgun. According to the media, by the time the gun is cocked and the barrel is in your mouth, you're not able to pull the trigger with your hands due to the length of the barrel. This line instead presents the solution of pulling the trigger with your foot to end your life.

So this person “cocked and sucked” the gun (cocked the gun and put the barrel in their mouth) before pulling the trigger with their foot to prove they’ve got-

And here's where the verse blends into the chorus.

Because the first line only consists of one word.

“Blood”.

The person who was shooting themselves with a shotgun only to prove that they bleed. Which is where the title of this section comes in. “(Vampire) Culture”. This section seeks to portray either the people in this culture or, the more likely option, the culture itself, as metaphorical vampires, who aim to destroy those around them. This knowledge makes the next line “didn't they want your blood, so why apologise for being blue and cold” make a lot more sense. After all, if these culture vampires have drained you of your blood, is it not their fault that you’re now “blue and cold”, as bodies tend to be if they lack blood flow. However, if you look at synonyms for the words “blue” and “cold”, you could also interpret this phrase as meaning “sad and apathetic”.

A sad and apathetic person doesn't seem to be the kind of person this ‘culture’ seeks to enlist however, and so one who is “blue and cold” is shunned as an outsider.

What Wood is getting at is that if this culture is the one who made you sad and apathetic, then you should not apologise to it for being so.

The next verse is short, and like the previous one, also blends into the chorus in the same way, by having the last line of the verse cut off right where the chorus would finish the sentence with the word “blood”. However in this verse, there's an interesting line. “It's only culture and it's more afraid of you than you are of it”, which is a sentiment usually used by adults to attempt to subdue a child's fear of something, usually insects. However it's interesting in the fact that it brings up the idea that this culture that has caused so much damage and harm is actually incredibly fragile, and would, in theory be very afraid of the concept of the individual, because if this ‘culture’ is only being held together by the silent agreeance that everyone will simply pretend, then the idea that there is people who refuse throws the whole idea into jeopardy.

This line is followed up however, by the line that blends it into the chorus. “Go on drink that-”, clearly intended to be finished by the first line of the chorus, making the full line, “go on drink that blood”.

This line is in reference to the phrase “drink the kool-aid” which essentially means to pledge your undying loyalty to something, a concept, a person, a god, etc. and it derives from an infamous mass cult suicide where over 900 people drank poisoned Kool-Aid and subsequently died for the cult. It is not a far cry to believe that this event and this phrase is what the line is referring to, as it's something that Wood has referenced in other songs, so it only makes sense to believe that this is what he means here.

After that chorus we move on to the bridge, which begins by listing 3 pairs of names, all famous or semi famous, and each pair being similar in one right but opposite in another, the line goes as follows; “were you Nabokov to a Sallinger, were you Jung to Freud or Dass to a Leary”, so let's break down these pairs one by one.

First “Nabokov to a Sallinger”, these names belong to Vladimir Nabokov and J.D. Sallinger, both authors who wrote famous books that both surround the theme of innocence, but in very different ways. Nabokov’s book “Lolita” is a story told from the perspective of a grown man about his sexual obsession and attraction to a little girl, and his desire to ruin her innocence, exploring the theme of innocence in a grotesque and frankly horrifying way, which is in stark contrast to Sallinger’s book “The Catcher in the Rye”, which explores the topic of innocence through the main characters desire to preserve their little sisters innocence, and in that desire displays hesitancy at the idea of sex themself. Both books explore the topic of innocence, however while one seeks to preserve it, the other seeks to destroy it, two sides of the same coin.

The next pairing is “Jung to Freud”, meaning Carl Gustav Jung and his mentor Sigmund Freud, who once again are similar in one right, but opposite in another. Jung and Freud both had theories on the nature of the human mind, but where Jungs was all about the concept of spirituality and how that ties into the collective unconscious, Freud's approach was much more focused on the individual unconscious and the concept of sexuality.

The final pairing is “Dass to a Leary”. both psychologists, both at the forefront of the ‘Harvard Psilocybin Project’ (before they both got dismissed from harvard entirely following controversies around the project) Richard Alpert and Timothy Leary were both psychologists and eventually authors who studied the effects of psychedelic drugs on the human mind, and while they were co workers they ended up with pretty conflicting views. Dr. Richard Alpert, who apparently ‘died’ and was ‘reborn’ as spiritual guide Ram Dass, centred his teachings heavily around the concept of living in the moment, (in fact his best selling book, written in 1971 was titled ‘Be Here Now’) and he believed that psychedelic drugs were not needed and that a permanent version of the same effects could be achieved through meditation. Whereas Dr. Timothy Leary advocated heavily for the use of psychedelics, believing that LSD specifically had great potential for therapeutic psychiatric use.

All of these pairings and examples utilise the concept of duality and speak on how every coin has two sides, which can easily be tied back to the idea that the picture perfect suburban life is just one side of the coin. This idea is then reinforced by the next line, “were you mother, daughter, subject and author?”, The use of the word ‘and’ here shows that it's possible to be two sides of the same coin at once, just like how this town, which is perfect on one side of the coin, is still terrible on the other side of the coin. The line is stating that it's possible to be both at once.

The very last line in this section is; “you don't make the rules, you just write them down and do it by the book you throw around”. This line combines a few relatively well known phrases. The first being of course ‘i don’t make the rules’, which can have two distinct meanings. The first is to express a kind of sympathy for someone being punished, and the second is to absolve yourself of the blame for that person being punished, a sort of ‘don't shoot the messenger’ situation.

The ‘rules’ that are likely being referred to here are the societal norms and expectations forced upon people who reside in these towns, the standard for ‘perfection’.

However, following this sentiment up with the phrase “you just write them down” is essentially saying that while it's not the fault of the people in these towns, they didn't create the norms, they still enforce them. They expect everything to be in line and perfect at all times, they follow these ‘rules’ to a T, and they shun and punish anyone who doesn't fit the standard and/or refuses to follow these ‘rules’, which is where the line “do it by the book you throw around” comes in, doing something ‘by the book’ means to follow rules strictly and to the letter, nothing out of line, and to throw the book at someone means to punish them as severely as possible, usually used in the legal sense to mean punishing someone for their crime as severely as the law will allow. So in all, the lyric “you don't make the rules, you just write them down and do it by the book you throw around” ends up meaning ‘you didn't create these norms but you still enforce them by following them to an absolute T and punishing anyone who doesn't.’

With that we enter the third and final section of the song, entitled ‘Love Me, Normally’, a title it shares with another song on the album, but of course this song is partially meant to serve as an overture for the whole album, meaning it shares some similar lyrics with lyrics from other songs on the album, so sharing a title isn't all that surprising.

The first lyric in this section is “do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash and burn?” which is another instance of duality in this song. Trailblazing or being a trailblazer means doing something no one has done before, paving the way for other people to follow in your footsteps, it comes from the literal act of creating a trail in the woods for people to follow, usually by creating notches in trees or setting small fires, hence ‘blazer’, as blaze is another word for a fire. However “slash and burn” is a method of deforestation that involves cutting down and burning a section of forest to create a field. Both examples include using fire to change something, but where one is seen as progress and positive, the other is negative, and seen as a means of destruction. Once again, two sides of the same coin, innovation and destruction.

This is followed up with the line “going against the grain and catching splinters”, which is a line i particularly like because while it is something that literally can happen, if you run your hand along wood in the opposite direction to the grain, you're more likely to get a splinter because you're essentially pushing your hand against the chips of wood, but it also is another metaphor for the dangers of not being the same. Going against the grain in this instance means daring to be different, not going the same way everyone else is going but instead the opposite of that, and in this example splinters are the consequences one would face for being different, especially in a setting like this perfect town, where everyone is the exact same as everyone else.

A little bit later you hear the line “well Lot he had his lot in life, Job his job and i guess you’ll too, and die”.

Lot and Job are both figures found in the Bible, whose names both share spelling with common English words, but are pronounced slightly differently.

Job, from the Book of Job, was a man that was tested by God, made to suffer to test his loyalty, his ‘job’ was to believe unendingly in God and see Him as always correct no matter what.

Lot, from the Book of Genesis, was a man who went through a lot, and the phrase ‘my lot in life’ is a phrase commonly used by people to write off/explain why they don't have it as good as others, they say it's simply their ‘lot in life’.

The end of this line “i guess you’ll too, and die” i believe refers to the fact that everyone will have their own job and their own lot in life, and then everyone in the end will die.

This theory is solidified by the fact that the next line is “The Lord looked down and said ‘hey, you're only mortal’” which is a play off of the phrase ‘you're only human’. Wood himself said that the phrase ‘you're only human’ has always felt weird to him, he says, “cause like, of course I am, aren’t we all? How is that fact supposed to help? I still feel bad. What does being human mean to you?”. He follows this up by saying that the idea of God saying "hey, you're only mortal" offers the same kind of sentiment, but in a “cosmically condescending” sort of way.

The following line reads “giveth and taketh away, till things come out a certain way, leave you wondering when they might go back to normal… leave you wondering why they can't have just been normal”.

This line presents a sort of hopelessness in the realisation that things are constantly changing, nothing is any more ‘normal’ than anything else, there's no such thing as ‘normal’, which is an overarching theme found throughout the album. Once again bringing back the fact that for all intents and purposes this song is an overture for the rest of the album.

To conclude, ‘Suburbia Overture’ is, in my opinion, one of the greatest criticisms of suburban, middle class, gated community, nuclear family life i've ever seen, it highlights the problems in that life and showcases how this kind of lifestyle in its incredibly rigid and restrictive standards is incredibly harmful to the very concept of individuality, because the expectations and unspoken rules set in communities like this and the widespread idea of forced normality seeks to crush any individuality before it even has a chance to blossom.

The use of metaphors and phrases that are well known and are likely to be seen in settings such as this gated community suburban town that Wood has created really paint a subconscious picture of what this community looks like, the use of duality, how every story has another side, and how nothing that is seemingly perfect from the outside is actually perfect on the inside.

Will Wood is an incredible lyricist and the fact that he was able to cram so much symbolism and such a powerful message into a song just over 6 minutes long is genuinely incredible.

Thank you for listening to my/reading my autistic hyper fixated rambling, i hope i didn't melt your brain too badly <3

[ominous-faechild]

STORY INTRO:

FAERIE'S DAWN (interact with this post to join the taglist)

Following the Shattering of Reality, the world was plunged into what came to be known as the Faewildes: an ever-changing world suffused with magic and danger. Humanity crumbled under the weight of the new reality while fae—and the archfae above them—emerged to rule over the new world. Humans couldn't compete against the fae's sheer magical prowess, and soon built strongholds in territories with weak magical presence to stand against them. Now, so many generations later, humanity has finally learned of faekind's weakness: metal, which weakens fae and blocks their magic. A war is breaking out between humanity and fae, with gods each picking sides in the conflict. Between faeries Nova, Cloud, and Sky, and the human settlement Eve and Asa protect... who will win?

(Psst... to fans of the Existential of Magic—aka “Ailwyn, God of the Faewildes”—this story has them as a major player! You'll see a lot of them in here! Your guys' overwhelming love for them motivated me to write this story lmao)

THEME SONG:

He looked me in the eyes, and without a word He saw right through my soul And with an evil little grin, and a stench of sin He delivered me a message that I'll never forget Put your hands up, this is your last chance So boy, prepare to die Get ready to meet your maker Before I put one right between your eyes Get ready (get ready) For your resignation Get ready (get ready) For your salvation 'Cause when you wake up, you'll realize Who even cares if you're dead If you were never alive

MAIN CHARACTERS:

✦ Eve Primavera ✦ Asa Primavera ✦ Nova “Me” Fae ✦ Scamall “Cloud” Fae ✦ Spéir “Sky” Fae

ADDITIONAL INFO:

✦ obviously high fantasy ✦ mostly rustic & post-apocalyptic ✦ oh and TONS of action lmao ✦ hope you like intense magic fights! ✦ oh (x2) and mild aspects of horror ✦ (I'm @ominous-faechild, I HAVE to!) ✦ it's like a legal obligation lol

✦ includes: ✦ tons of lgbtqia+ rep ✦ gays. all the gays. ✦ nova's genderfluid (any/all) ✦ a closeted trans??? ✦ tbh one is nb af but that closet??? inescapable. ✦ neurodivergent rep ✦ eve & asa both audhd lol ✦ nova's audhd too lol ✦ sky and branch are autistic ✦ tbh it's safe to bet everyone is something ✦ expressions of cultures inspired by: ✦ middle ireland, ✦ germania, ✦ and criticisms of christianity

✦ trigger warnings: ✦ shows depictions of: ✦ sexism ✦ racism(?) (between fae/humans) ✦ xenophobia ✦ body dysphoria ✦ depression & anxiety ✦ religious zealotry ✦ religious trauma

THEMES:

✦ recognizing, breaking away from abusers, and learning to find yourself after departure

✦ accepting one's self ✦ especially for groups found "not traditionally acceptable" by society, which is reflected within eve and asa's home

✦ discrimination ✦ especially when artificial, or baseless

✦ “man, these religious zealots kinda suck” ✦ yeah it's a good mix of traumatic and cathartic here

MASTERLIST TABLE OF CONTENTS #FAERIE'S DAWN

CHARACTER INTROS:

✦ Eve Primavera (pending)

✦ Asa Primavera (pending)

✦ Nova “Me” Fae

✦ Scamall “Cloud” Fae (pending)

✦ Spéir “Sky” Fae

TAGS:

#high fantasy #action #action fantasy #diverse characters #fantasy #fantasy story #fantasy writing #fantasy world #magic world #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #comedy #humor

#diverse characters #poc in fantasy #poc characters #lgbtq+ characters #lgbtqia characters #lgbtq characters #lgbt fiction #neurodivergent characters #autistic characters #adhd character #autistic coded #autistic creator

#morally grey characters #morally gray #villain coded #feral oc #feral character

#faeries #faerie #the fae #fae #fae folk #faecore #fey oc

TAGLIST:

@honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue @rae-butter @teamarine777 @caffeinated-starsailor @oliolioxenfreewrites

@corinneglass @thebookishkiwi @storyteller-kara @themongosianhorse @theburningeyeofdawn

@notyourlocalworm @write-with-will @mildlybizarrecorvid @forgottenvalor @huewrite

@vesanal @differentnighttale @plip-plap-plop @olliedoesthings @pupculture

@princessuncertain @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @i-do-anything-but-write @a-zendrial

@real-fragments @lunauphternal @sullymarlowe @aalinaaaaaa @yourpenpaldee

@dangerousbunnyking @milday-dewinter @hoerikwaggo @thestorywitch @simonnebethel

@keeping-writing-frosty @cedence @sodalysm @amor-vivere @lovelyfirebouquet

@shabbyshoebox @creative-creatrues-hub @black-cubes @brightyellowsprite @cosmic-demonartist

@summermaes (ask and ye shall be added)

(tho actually I'mma add everybody who interacts with this post? or put them on my 'just tell me rq if you don't want to be included' list lol)

divider by @thyming

[revacholianpizzaagenda]

Apocalyptic squirreling

We're not, like, impaling these quotes like the proverbial shrike or anything, just hoarding them away in a nice stash. A collection of Disco Elysium tidbits about the end of the world compiled by @yekokataa and I, feel free to add!

...starting with the game's earliest teaser trailer.

(28 rather than 27 could be its own odd math, there's some miscounting in the text now and then just like there's the occasional typo, or it could follow the fact that the year of canon events was changed at some point. for that matter, the infamous 22 years to the nuke should be 21, like it originally followed that same 28 and wasn't edited - consistently, the variable it flags is ice.andre_hyper_rc_succ_28)

(this is an example of odd math to me, for the record, as it's 365x27 to the day. It could be it's the EXACT count and also that Elysium doesn't have leap years, but I would've expected a less precise number, personally)

:)

Ours has actual six thousand years of history: it spans from its own version of the early Bronze Age (Perikarnassian period) to the early Middle Ages (Franconigerian period), to the Renaissance (Dolorian period), right up to a decade we call “The Seventies”. It’s a world like ours, one that has evolved culturally and technologically over widely varied periods of time. No Truce With the Furies takes place in the modernity of this world.

(source)

Q: How tight is the connection between the book and the game? Is it a Witcher-like situation? KURVITZ: Things in this world are connected to each other like things in our world are connected to each other – not like things are connected to each other in Star Wars. The book and the game share themes and historical developments. The book is set in the early seventies and the game is set in the early fifties. They are connected the way two stories set in our world would be. The fault-lines developing in the fifties are more apparent in the seventies. The situation has worsened, the political climate has shifted, but there is no Skywalker saga. The main story in Elysium is history.

(source)

yes yes we've all seen the nuke convo but let's put it here for completionism's sake

This connection - saying 22 instead of 27, or 28 as the variable reminds us - could seem strange based on game data alone, but it neatly follows the context of the book, which shows us that the bombing of Revachol is one and the same as the material beginning of the end of the world.

This one is also a fun book throwback, from apocalyptic Kurvitz self-insert to apocalyptic Kurvitz self-insert

(being appreciative of that kind of future just nets you a YEEEAGH)

more personally ominous than globally ominous but ominous nonetheless

("we become vapour" being, of course, the planned title of the eventual Elysium tabletop setting rulebook. sigh.)

This one's intriguing, isn't it? With an eye to Le Retour...

Her echoes of the other dialogue options are similarly ominous, for the record.

And we don't know if Nilsen had visions of his own (the man sounds well-acquainted with his Half Light, on behalf of the war crimes, so it's not... entirely out of the question) but we do know that his pocket calculator lap cat second-bestie very much did and could've been his source.

Also a strong book callback, among other things. Remember kids: object permanence!

Harry, all these quotes like this one sound like they would make sense for the actual guy who goes and blows it all up, not you personal-

...ah yes. Ambrosius looms... yeah buddy it sure is solemn AND historical, I'm afraid:

and of course, in closing:

🥲

...for the remaining 276 pages of Elysium tidbits about the end of the world, of course, over here.

[writers-potion]

It is a well-known fact that there are seven levels in Hell. Similarly, apocalyptic accounts of heaven range from one heaven to ten, but most agree on seven.

As fantasy writers, this is great news. Let's dive.

First Heaven

The physical world. It is ruled by Gabriel, and is home to all the angels connected with the natural phenomena of the universe.

In ancient Mesopotamian religion, the first dome of heaven was made of jasper and was the home of the stars.

Second Heaven

Ruled by Raphael.

It is the home of sinner who are waiting for Judgement Day.

Some of the fallen angels are held her as well. Kinda like the field of asphodel, which make this one sound more like pre-hell, but whatever.

Mesopotamians believed the middle domes (2nd-6th) were made of saggilmut stone and home of lgigi, mythological beings living in heaven.

Third Heaven

Ruled by Baradiel. The southern half of this heaven contains the Garden of Eden and the Tree of Life. 300 angels of light stands sentry.

The Northern half of the third heaven contains hell. Not surprisingly, some fallen angels are held here.

Like the seven layers of Hell, the seven domes of Heaven seem to be a more extended version of typical one-story Heaven and therefore houses more creatures beyond angels.

Fourth Heaven

Ruled by Michael. It contains the Holy Temple and the Altar of God.

Mesopotamians equated the seven domes of Heaven surrounding the flat earth with celestial bodies.

The first dome would be Mercury, the second Venus, the third Mars, and so on.

Ordinary mortals wouldn't go go heaven because the heavens were the abode of gods alone.

Fifth Heaven

Ruled by Zadkiel. In ancient Mesopotamia, each visible celestial body was equated with a god.

The planet Venus was believed to be Inanna, the goddess of love, sex an war (would they ever stop being a trio?).

The sun was her brother Utu, the god of justice and the moon was their father Nanna.

Sixth Heaven

Ruled by Zebul at night and Sabath by day. All celestial records are kept here, and choirs of angels endlessly study them.

After a person (a mere mortal) dies, his/her soul would go to Kur which is a dark shadowy underworld located deep below the surface of the earth. Seems like the Mesopotamian gods were hellbent on getting some personal space in the sky …

Seventh Heaven

Archangel Cassiel rules this realm.

The Seraphim, Cherumbim and Thrones live here.

In ancient Mesopotamia (where the seven-heaven theory originated), the last and highest dome of the heavens was made of luludanitu stone and was personified as An, the god of he sky.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[laylainalaska]

So as of 2/3 of the way through Babylon 5 season 3 (we just watched the "War Without End" 2-parter last night) I keep thinking: how does this show EXIST. What makes you do this, and especially what makes you do this in the 90s, when TV sci-fi was Star Trek and bright happy futures and episodes-of-the-week in which bumpy-headed aliens have cultural differences that are neatly resolved in 42 minutes.

What on EARTH makes you decide, in the middle of season 3 of a 5-season show, to flash forward to the end, in which we (and Sheridan) find out that it's all headed for an apocalyptic Bad End that can't be averted because all the other options are worse, in which Sheridan finds himself in the arms of the woman he's just starting to fall in love with, finds out that they're they've been together for years and have a son and ALSO this might be the last time he ever sees her because they're both about to be killed in the Bad Ending future and it's going to get worse than he ever could have imagined, only to be saved by the very enemy who had locked them up (and sacrifices his own life to do it, except they don't know that and probably never will).

And I'm absolutely feral about knowing that both Londo and G'Kar know that they're going to kill each other at the end of it all, surrounded by the ruins of a world their war and their hatred destroyed, except they don't know the context - they know the "what" and so they know there's no point in reaching out, no point in apologies, no point in doing better or being better or doing anything except doubling down on hating each other until the end of time, and even if they do manage to achieve some kind of detente, all they can assume is that it'll never last because they know they're going to die hating each other at the end of it all. But they don't know, they know they're going to die at each other's hands but they don't know they're going to die for love, saving each other and their friends and the world, and neither of them is going to die alone because they have each other and that (and their courage, and their willingness to do the necessary thing when the time comes) is what makes an eventual Good End possible.

We know how it ends now and at least half the characters also know how it ends and that there is no way out of the Bad Future and yet we're going to spend another two and a half seasons with them, because the thing that makes it all worthwhile at the end is the choices they make along the way.

WHAT MAKES YOU DO THIS, JMS

[torpublishinggroup]

Celebrate Pride with Tor Publishing Group!

Rakesfall by @adamantine

They met as children in the middle of the Sri Lankan civil war. Later, in a demon-haunted wood, an act of violence linked them and propelled their souls on a journey through the ages. As they reincarnate ever deeper into the future, a truth emerges: Some stories take more than one lifetime to tell.

The Archive Undying by @emcandon

This is a story about misplaced faith, complicated love, so much self-loathing, and yeah—giant robots. Plugged into his AI god when its apocalyptic corruption renders him unfortunately immortal, sad gay disaster Sunai takes a die-again-or-die-trying approach to things. Unending life’s tough when intimacy is somehow scarier even than either of the warring police states set on turning you into a weapon or the rogue undead mecha-fragment of your old god that wants to eat you. 

Now available in paperback!

[zedecksiew]

TO PUT AWAY A SWORD

David Blandy + Daniel Locke's post-apocalyptic hopepunk TTRPG ECO MOFOS is back from the printers. Meaning it will soon be in our hands.

Am fairly hyped for it, because I wrote an adventure!

To Put Away A Sword is about the woes of building a home on poisoned earth. The terrible powers that hurtled us to the end of the world continue to bear bitter fruit in your garden.

You are villagers living under the shadow of a fallen giant mecha. Its reactors and warheads leak into your groundwater, poison your goats. What will you do about it? What can you do?

+

Mechanically it is a pointcrawl around your local valley. Not super complex, design-wise; but I was pleased with my gimmick solution for mapping both the adventure's dungeons:

Grab a mecha figure, pose it, place it on the game table; each part of the figure corresponds to a location in the dungeon key. Solves for stuff like relative orientation.

Easy!

+

To Put Away A Sword is me making a mecha adventure.

Disclaimer: I am not a mecha nerd. I am unfamiliar with most of the genre. Anything I know about Gundam I've absorbed by osmosis.

I was mainly into giant robots in childhood. Receiving a Macross figure for my birthday. Pouring over the manual for The Crescent Hawks' Revenge, which my brother left behind:

While I was not much a fan of mecha, I was very much a fan of Evangelion. I spent my middle teens obsessed with it. The biomechanical, pseudo-mystical stuff; the teen angst. I wanted to be Shinji. I thought trauma was so cool.

So cringe. Anyway:

One of the inspirations for To Put Away A Sword is the survivors-rebuilding-a-town-and-planting-rice sequence in Thrice Upon A Time; probably my favourite part of the whole franchise, now.

The joy and difficulties of trying to build your paradise in the weird ruins of the old world:

Yeah, the adventure has a lot of Evangelion in it. There's a Nerv HQ analogue to explore. There's a content warning for child soldiers.

+

The other inspiration for To Put Away A Sword is this piece of box art, an accessory set for Macross's iconic Stonewell Bellcom VF-1 Variable Fighter:

I don't know what this kind of arrange-your-missiles-in-front-of-your-fighter-jet photo is technically called. Hardware porn parade?

You see it often enough. Here's a real-life photo of the Lockheed Martin F35 Joint Strike Fighter:

Fairly or not, in my head I associate mecha with seeing copies of Jane's Defence in airport magazine racks. The genre feels like such a natural way to riff on the hyper-charged corpo-military-industrial complex.

After the brush war ends, and the natural resources extracted, and the ethnic cleansing concluded, and the profits announced, who gets to clean up after a Raytheon missile?

In To Put Away A Sword---you do.

+

Ultimately, as always, I am writing and designing from my lived experiences.

See that? The gas flare from the Hengyuan Refining Company? It is about 200 metres from my living room.

That gas flare surfaces constantly in the stuff I make. As I write this post I am breathing its acrid chemical smell. My nose itches. I was asthmatic as a child; I seriously worry about cancer, nowadays.

At night it lights up the sky like Barad-dur.

The plant obviously and continuously flaunts regulations. We've tried lodging complaints: with its corporate management; with the Department of Environment. Nothing has worked so far.

"A home on poisoned earth" is a visceral fact of my life.

+

To Put Away A Sword is wish-fulfilment, I guess? In the world of the adventure, at least, the forces that are poisoning your home are post-peak oil.

It is nice to imagine a reality where a kind of survival and flourishing is still possible. My partner Sharon and I talk a lot about imagining hope.

Last month she bought this small mecha-looking thing. A wireless camera! She built a little hut for it on our garden wall. It is trained, 24-7, at the gas flare.

Environmental activists we've met say video evidence of emissions is important. We'll see. We imagine it helping.

+

Anyway. David just sent me this photo of my adventure, in print:

Looking good. I hope folks play it and enjoy it.

Preorder ECO MOFOS and its adventure bundle >>>HERE<<<

[wicked-by-nature--au]

You want questions? Hehe, alright, I think I'll give you the same doozy I gave @daylightisminetoconsume last March :>

Imagine the day Gunmar succeeds in all of his conquests, or say he could reshape the world in any way he wants. All of his enemies are defeated, every last inch of the planet is his, and trolls can wander the surface without dreading petrification from above. Everyone who has ever opposed him has either been ground into dust or made to suffer truly agonizing fates to serve as examples; all people fear, obey, and respect the Gumm-Gumm king without question. My question is...what will your fascinating version of Gunmar do the day after? :3 In fiction, there have been so many so-called crusaders and despots who often speak with ambition, even those who conquer and destroy simply because it is their nature, but none have ever been so brave as to answer the question of what they will do when they've succeeded. When the world is just the way they want it, or when all other forces have been vanquished, just what is the plan when Wicked By Nature Gunmar has gotten EXACTLY what he wants? :)

Oooh- That is a VERY INTERESTING question and thing to think about!

But let's take a deep and thoughtful dive into Gunmar character-

Gunmar was born from the Heartstone that rotted because of war and hatred — and him being a walking talking thinking Heartstone, those same ongoing things deteriorate him.

Heartstone's purpose is to give that vital life to Trollkind, and when the Trollkind isn't thriving, the Heartstone diminishes. And Gunmar can feel that torment within himself from all the infighting between trolls and their dispute with humans.

And Gunmar's goal technically is to stop that war forever, but he's doing that his own twisted way. He comes from a corrupted Heartstone, he was born from violence and death and that is inevitably rooted into his nature, no matter how he was attempted to be raised.

So everything he sees as a threat or an obstacle to his ambitions must be destroyed. That he thinks is for the good, there is no war if there's nothing that would create the conflict. Just an apocalyptic dead and silent nothingness, that is his paradise.

He is like this lost monster that is desperately trying to fix itself, a being that was never meant to exist brought to life.

He is unnatural, and only exists due to a higher deity's desire (and that creates the parallel to half-troll Jim).

And now, what if Gunmar actually were to accomplish his goal?

He would feel at peace in the darkness and bloodshed now that the war that has lasted for millenniums is finally over for good.

Trolls rule the surface now, and Gunmar feels satisfied but not happy. He has lost his son and practically everything that was once dear to him, but the Trollkind can now start its slow recovery.

(And now at this point, Morgana would just get rid of the trolls, because she doesn't give a rat's ass about them and Gunmar was just a puppet for her to get what she wants, so that will be the anticlimatic end of him 😭🙏)

But I got an interesting concept if she's not in the picture! I don't know how to really feel about it, but it's kinda cool ig?

Gunmar has finally accomplished and lived his purpose, and he can now lay down his weapons.

He finds a good spot for himself where to settle down for eternity, he kneels down with his arms around himself, and his body begins to crystallize.

He begins to cocoon himself, and crystals grow around him as he loses his consciousness and trollself.

Now just a frozen statue inside a crystal, he has turned himself into a proper Heartstone for the trolls. He's finally there where he belongs.

His torment is finally over, and it's time for Trollkind's rebirth. Move on to an entirely new age and start all over again... and hopefully do better.

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I'm tired... TwT

I'm writing this at the middle of the night, so coming up with and writing words is a bit difficult, but I hope it's sensible.

But what do you guys think, about the concept? I think it could be cool to draw sometime or something, idk...

But like, Gunmar will not get this far. He will die the same way he does in the show, but I still think it's really interesting to think about.

- HuttuHarakka

[chil-aglia]

WHUMPAY 2025

This will be marked off as 'muzzled' as that is the main focus!

Hope you enjoy this! And sorry for any grammar errors made!

Credit: @whumpay

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Silence by Force

Quick note: This is not canon to the main story of DILLH. And while EPF does make an appearance and is the main villain in this, they may or may not change in the main story of the DILLH fic

Prompt: Muzzled

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles + my OC’s

Warnings; Muzzled, pinned down, blood, implied abuse, etc

Summary: Caden should’ve listened to Leo when he told him to be careful around the EPF. But he didn’t listen and now he had to face the horrors of what humans can do to him…

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When Caden awoke, he was met with the curious and unfamiliar eyes of people he’d only briefly encountered. They wore strange clothing—suits, from the looks of it. How was that possible when it was the middle of an apocalyptic era?

No matter. Caden recalled what had happened, and he was pissed—pissed at himself for being stubborn and ignoring Leo’s advice. Leo had been around longer than he had; he knew the EPF and had had run-ins with them from time to time. And even though the EPF was helping out the Resistance during this war…

They still got the jump on Caden. They led him away from prying eyes, far enough that no one would hear him scream as he was chloroformed by a man named John Bishop. He knew Leo didn’t like Bishop—not just because the older slider kept glaring at him through the mindscape, but because Caden could feel Leo’s overwhelming hatred toward him.

And Caden ignored the signs. He was an idiot. And now…here he was, somewhere unknown, somewhere alone. Normally, Leo would’ve told him to calm down by now, sensing his rising panic. But there was nothing.

He couldn’t hear Leo in his head, and whenever he tried to pull himself into his mindscape, his head throbbed with such intense pain that he couldn’t focus. Maybe whatever chloroform they had used was tainted with some kind of mysticism?

Was it blocking Leo from getting to him? He didn’t quite know or understand the situation, but he didn’t have time to think. Not when the door opened, and strolling inside was John Bishop, wearing sunglasses and a fancy tux.

Caden let out a snarl of annoyance as he lunged toward him. Maybe he could run past and escape.

But he only got so far before he yelped and collapsed to his knees. Looking down, he noticed his legs were chained to the ground. He could probably cut the chains, but then realization dawned on him—they had taken the katanas, leaving him with nothing to defend himself.

He clicked his tongue, instinctively going to move his hands to try and rip off the chains with his barehands. But he couldn’t move them, making him perk up, widening his eyes in surprise as he turns his head over his shoulder.

His arms were tied behind his shell. Restrained. Unable to move.

Great…

“What a fascinating specimen you are.” John Bishop spoke up, admiring the mutant turtle who glared up at him. The human strode closer, crouching down to Caden’s eye level as they stared at each other, waiting for one of them to make the first move.

Where was Leo…? He could help Caden out right now.

“Hm… despite living in such terrible conditions, you seem rather healthy...” Bishop noted, placing a hand under Caden’s chin and tilting his head up.

A mistake.

Caden hissed and swiftly moved his head away, snapping his jaws open and biting down on the hand that touched him. He didn’t know what else to do—there was no way he was going to be touched like some lab rat.

Bishop let out a surprised and annoyed yell, using his free hand to punch Caden. The young mutant grunted at the hit, releasing Bishop’s hand from his mouth as blood stained his teeth.

Caden eyed Bishop, who clutched his bleeding hand, looking both puzzled and flabbergasted. Caden narrowed his eyes, spitting out the metallic taste of blood to the side.

“Fine then…you want to be a wild animal.” Bishop scoffed, standing up and walking away. As Caden eyed him suspiciously, another human walked in once the door opened, revealing what looked to be a muzzle of sorts.

A muzzle…they were going to muzzle him?!

“No! Get away!” Caden both hissed and pleaded, watching as another human walked in afterward, the door closing as they advanced toward him. His heart raced in utter panic as Caden tried to move as far back as he could, but he was yanked forward, groaning as they roughly pinned him down to the floor.

“Let go!”

They ignored him, holding his head still as he tried to move it in any direction he could. He felt the contraption being wrapped around his head and mouth, and he let out a broken sob of fear when they finally let go. The clanging sound of the muzzle echoed as Caden scraped it against the floor.

“This should teach you some manners,” John Bishop stated, smirking down while Caden looked up at him, eyes slightly glossy as he sat up.

His breaths came in sharp, muffled bursts as he struggled to get used to the cold, suffocating weight of the muzzle. He thrashed his head, trying to shake it off, but the leather straps dug painfully into his skin. The men who had restrained him backed away cautiously, eyeing him like he was some feral beast.

John Bishop wiped his bleeding hand with a pristine white handkerchief, not bothering to hide his contempt. “You mutants really don’t know how to behave, do you? Savage and primitive, like animals that need to be broken.”

Caden growled lowly, the sound vibrating through the muzzle. His heart pounded against his plastron, but the fear was starting to meld into anger—a burning, choking kind of fury that made his vision blur. He wanted to fight back, to rip the smug expression from Bishop’s face, but the chains held him in place, dragging him back to reality.

“Now...” Bishop continued, flexing his wounded hand. “We’ll see how much fight you have left when your spirit’s crushed. You mutants...you turtles think you’re superior just because you’ve survived out there. But strength means nothing without control. We’ll see how long it takes before you’re begging for mercy.”

Caden wanted to spit a retort, to tell him that he’d never break, that Leo would come for him, but of course he couldn’t say that. They had no clue of his and Leo’s situation. No words came—just a muffled snarl.

A hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing painfully, and he snapped his head toward the new figure—another human in a lab coat. This one eyed Caden with a clinical curiosity, as if he were nothing more than a specimen.

“Sir, should we prepare him for the extraction process?” The lab tech human asked, adjusting his glasses.

Bishop nodded, not even looking at Caden. “Yes. Start with blood samples and a full physical examination. See if there’s anything unique about his mutation. We’ll keep him isolated for now. Make sure he stays restrained.”

Caden’s pulse quickened. Extraction? What did that mean? Panic clawed at his throat as he jerked back, trying to pull free from the chains. The scientists approached with syringes and sterile equipment, their gloved hands reaching for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth grinding against the muzzle as he willed himself to pull into the mindscape—to just feel Leo, even for a second. He needed him. He needed that familiar presence, that sense of safety.

Nothing. Just that agonizing, hollow ache in his chest.

“Stop fighting.” One of the humans muttered, gripping his arm with surprising force. A needle pressed against his skin, and Caden froze, trembling as the syringe pierced his muscle. The cold liquid burned its way through his bloodstream, making his limbs feel heavy and unresponsive.

“Good.” Bishop muttered, watching as Caden’s struggling waned. “Let the sedative do its work. Once he’s compliant, we’ll begin the tests. Maybe this one will be useful after all.”

The last thing Caden saw before his vision faded was Bishop’s cold, satisfied smirk. He wants to…

He wants to go home.