#IT’S NOT REAL FOR PLOT CONVENIENCE REASONS

[tobiasdrake]

Dragon Ball Daima, episode 5. Time to meet the new girl for realsies.

For like forty years.

Goku's leaving out information that's extremely relevant to the new girl's question. The reason he has the skills of a middle-aged martial arts master is because that is literally what he is.

We're still going to the castle? I thought we turned around to go chase the Dragon Ball instead. Maybe I misunderstood.

Gloom n' Doom was trying to leave her behind but we all know who the real star is, and he accepts bribes in exchange for friendship.

He also accepts friendship without bribes. He's just nice. But he's not gonna turn down some onigiri if you're offering.

We have a name! Between Glorio and Panzy, it seems the denizens of Daimakai have flowers for their name pun theme.

(Goku, you named your son after rice. You have no room to talk.)

Not sure if the exchange over whose name is weirder is meant to be a parallel to Goku's first meeting with Bulma. Very rarely do the punny names get called out as funny in-universe.

They're going the "Everyone has their own unique superpower" route for the Majin, I see. And Panzy's is....

Telekinesis.

We've seen telekinesis a few times. Chiaotzu and Guldo are the most prolific telekinetic characters. But they're also...

Like. They both kinda fall into the category of "Characters who got exactly one fight and then fucked off or died." We've never had a character who was important to the plot and had abilities centered around psychic powers.

I hope that's about to change but Dragon Ball is notoriously terrible with its female characters so I'm not taking anything for granted.

Panzy is completely ruining Glorio's vibe as our solemn guide to the demonic lands and he can die mad about it. XD

Weird thing to have a character say before cutting to a montage of everyone pleasantly sightseeing with no trouble whatsoever while happy fun-time music plays in the background.

The front gate is HUNGRY OM NOM NOM NOM

Is....

...is the plan to raise Baby Dende like an ordinary child over the course of many years so that he imprints on Gomah and comes to see this castle and its occupants as his home and family?

Is that what we're doing here?

(Wouldn't he still have his memories? Goku and the others do.)

Oh, she is definitely like the king's daughter or something. There's a reason she happens to know the most convenient way to and from the castle. Glorio needs to learn how to read a room.

You know, I really thought they were gonna tease that out a bit longer.

She's got her own distinct style to her but she's definitely a bootleg copy of Bulma. Child genius female super-mechanic who attaches herself to Goku after seeing how powerful he is and happens to be the daughter of the most rich and powerful family in the region. There's visibly a lot of Bulma in her character DNA.

Even her logo on the front of her shirt often looks like a C because of the stuff covering it.

Which is kinda making me start to wonder if Glorio is a bootleg copy of Future Trunks. Grim and serious demeanor, showing up out of nowhere in a magical fantasy vehicle, leaning on a weapon but also being able to fight without it, that jacket... Huh.

HAHAHA NO

Goku, sure, but Kaioshin is one whole Fuck No in the realm of fighting Majin Buu. It is thoroughly established that he'd be up shit creek without a paddle in a straight fight with Buu.

...

In fact, so is Goku. The only form of Buu that Goku has ever been a match for is Fat Buu. And that is strictly hypothetical, based on Goku's impression of Buu versus how strong Super Saiyan 3 is supposed to be..

Strictly hypothetically, his Super Saiyan 3 could waste Pure Buu too. We all saw how well that worked out.

"Wait but wasn't Goku holding back so Vegeta could have a turn?"

Common misconception but no. Vegeta accuses Goku of that, but Goku was sincerely giving Buu his all and getting wrecked. Super Saiyan 3 is the only form Goku has that can match Buu on paper, but Super Saiyan 3's drawbacks prevent it from being able to match Buu in practice.

So. Uh. No. There is not a single person in this room that can cash the check that Glorio's stupid mouth has written. Not counting sequel series that haven't taken place yet at this point in the timeline, the only time Goku has ever been on Buu's level was when he had Vegeta to fuse with.

Seems legit. I like the cut of his jib. We should definitely make him king.

He commodifies women as bargaining chips to be bought and sold by their fathers. I don't like the cut of his job. We should not make him king.

Goku proving himself by fighting all the royal guards at once is a fun fight, well animated, and nicely paced. But I particularly enjoyed this moment.

Goku transforming to Super Saiyan not to actually go Super Saiyan but just to use the burst of ki that comes from it as a radial attack to blow the goons away. Weaponizing the power-up itself.

Some real "Shazam hits his opponent with the transformation lightning bolt" energy going on here.

...

I legit thought this guy was going to, like, reveal some sort of power that lets him teleport directly to Earth and then bring back Vegeta, Bulma, and Piccolo in a snap.

I'm looking forward to having Panzy on the team. Especially when Bulma gets here. I can't wait for Bulma to meet Discount Bulma.

[venture4treasure]

“And I, well I found what’s best for me”

Words: 2817

Premise: A non-canon fan continuation of @archangelsarchway fics: part one and part two. Struggling with learning to move on from Venture after their amnesia and newfound affection for Mei, Reader feels like something isn’t quite right. Someone is pulling the strings and nobody has realized. 

Warnings: Implied major character death, Memory loss, Kidnapping, Drugging, Blood, they/them pronouns for Reader, Implied body modification, Unhappy ending

“What did you say?” Your eyes widen in alarm, turning to face the trio.

“Rein,” you demand, half begging, as your heart rate picks up, “what did you say”. 

“I… didn’t say anything,” Reinhardt answers, confused. 

Sojourn affirms that nothing was said. 

You stand up suddenly, slamming your hands on the table a little harder than you had meant. Everyone was looking at you now. Mei crowds behind Venture at your sudden action. You duly note that you never did apologize to her for that. 

“Are you alright?” Lifeweaver offers to let you lean your weight on him as you grow dizzy and unbalanced. 

“I’m fine,” you grit out, “head’s just hurting out of nowhere”. 

“I’m going to go wash up and maybe take some painkillers, be back in a moment,” you say to the group, pushing yourself off Lifeweaver, “sorry about the scare. Congratulations on your marriage” you add with a pained smile. 

You hurry off to the washroom, splashing water on your face. You must look like a mess, but the pain behind your eyes is unbearable and almost blinding. Hunched over the sink, the water still running, a violent cough overtakes you. 

There’s blood in the sink now. It’s yours. Something is wrong. You should’ve known, you berate yourself. You should’ve trusted your gut. Kiriko was here, right? You’re pretty sure she can heal you without her gear. And then you’d report your concerns of some kind of poisoning to Winston, and the scientists at Overwatch would figure it out. It was a simple plan, you could manage. 

You look up at the mirror to try and compose yourself, a feeling of dread falls over you when you see a reflection of someone behind you. You’re about to turn around when a hand settles on your back, a burning pain knocks you out. 

—

Lifeweaver nudges Sojourn, calling out to the table that they’re going to check on you. The two of them head towards the building the garden is attached to. 

“Do you think they’re doing okay?” Lifeweaver asks, “maybe seeing a wedding is still a bit much”.

“They’ve been doing fine moving on from what I’ve seen,” Sojourn replies, “I think something isn’t right. They’ve been really confused with events regarding Sloan recently. They keep asking me to confirm if certain things really happened, and some of the things they’ve been coming up with… I don’t remember anything remotely similar happening. Things that are completely made up”.

“Seeing and hearing things, and mistaking them for memories? They’re not on any medication that would cause hallucinations that bad from what I recall,” Lifeweaver brows furrow in concern. 

“We’ll get an answer if we ask, I’m sure,” Sojourn says.

She knocks on the door to the washroom. 

“Hello?” No response, she flashes a worried look at Lifeweaver. 

“Are you okay? If you want to head out, Niran and I will keep you company, we’re about done with the excitement anyways”. It’s still met with silence. 

“I’m going to come in, okay?” Sojourn calls out. 

Turning the handle reveals it’s unlocked. Both Sojourn and Lifeweaver share a concerned glance. 

“Oh my god”. Lifeweaver breathes at the scene before them. 

The faucet is still running water. Blood splattered the edges of the sink and ran down the mirror. A trail of red smeared across porcelain and streaked the floor – like a body had been dragged. 

Lifeweaver closes the door to preserve any evidence. A feeling of regret washes over him, he should’ve gone with you. Sojourn calls in a missing person, her voice calmer than her anxious pacing would have you think. 

—

Overwatch had passed the case off to the authorities, which fell cold after some months. Everyone was forced to move on with their work without their fellow agent, but not everybody was content with the idea of giving up. So when an anonymous tip – sealed with a purple skull – was handed off to Venture; Sojourn and Lifeweaver pushed for an investigation.

A small, but capable group was sent out. With Sojourn leading the team, Lifeweaver, Reinhardt, Venture, and Mei arrived at Eichenwalde. 

An eerie silence greets them. No bird songs or stray animals scurrying about. They start their search by clearing out any danger from the main roads. At the foot of the castle, a rock drops to their location, clattering noisily. Venture kneels to pick it up, checking in the direction it came from – its trajectory indicates that it was thrown and not from crumbling buildings, besides it’s not a rock common to this area. They don’t get far in their thoughts when a monstrous howl interrupts the silence. The team instinctively points their weapons toward the sound. 

A creature prowls on the top of abandoned buildings, roof tiles fall with each step it takes. It looks like a griffin – eagle’s head and lion’s body, but even that’s not quite right. Its hind legs change from fur to scales, and where lion paws should’ve been are a set of reptilian claws. Its snake-like tail whips behind it, sounding a frightening cracking noise. 

It flares its feathers, jumping at the group. Reinhardt is quick to throw up his shield. The force of the pounce has his shield cracking and pushes him back as he tries to dig his feet into the ground. Large talons slam and scratch at the shield. Like this, they can truly see how large the beast is. On all fours it matches Reinhardt’s height. 

“My shield won’t last!”

“What is THAT?”

The sound of a shield shatter is the group’s signal to scatter. Lifeweaver throws a petal for Mei, Reinhardt, and himself. Venture burrows away and Sojourn slides out of the beast’s line of attack. It snaps its beak angrily, its sight locked onto Sojourn. 

Sojourn aims a railgun shot and it moves out of the way. It dodged. It understands the concept of guns, Sojourn notes with alarm. She’s not able to slide away a second time before the creature is on top of her, caging her under its body. Between the feathers of its neck and torso, there’s hair peeking out between the plumage. It’s not dissimilar to human hair and even more similar to someone who went missing months ago. A cold despair freezes her in place.

Lifeweaver throws out his life grip to try and pull Sojourn away, it’s caught midway through its recall by the beak of the monster. A strong jerk pulls him off the platform, he catches himself, but his gear is broken – and probably his wrist too. Sojourn regroups with him, throwing out some covering fire to stall time as Mei and Venture try to flank it. 

“Niran, you don’t think this is…” Sojourn asks, hoping for a different opinion. 

Lifeweaver squints at the beast in front of it, noting down details. Its fur colour is horribly familiar and its eyes…

Tearing his gaze away, he hisses out a swear.

“I thought so,” Sojourn remarks bitterly. 

—

“Mei! Can you get us some cover? Just some time to regroup with a plan,” Sojourn yells over the fighting. 

“S-sure,” Mei calls back, throwing up an ice wall. The creature pounds against it, the cry of ice giving away reminds the group that they’re on a timer.

They take cover in a buried storage room, banking on the idea that birds have a weak sense of smell. 

“Venture,” Sojourn says, placing a hand on their shoulder, “did you figure out who that is?” 

“Yeah,” Venture swallows, “yeah, I think so”.

“Then I’m sure you know that they loved you dearly. Even after you moved on to another, they never stopped loving you,” Sojourn pauses, “even if it was to a fault”. 

“And I’m not saying this just to slander them while they’re like this, that first year for them was rough. But every day after, they worked hard to learn to move on, so you could move on,” Sojourn continues, “I think you should try and talk to them, maybe it’ll snap some sense into them and give us the opening we need to win”. 

Mei tries to argue and is cut off by Sojourn before she can speak a word, “I’m not asking you to get back together or to pretend like you love them still, just talk to them. Your voice is enough, trust me”. 

A doubtful silence falls over the group, broken by the crumbling of wood and stone as the creature lets out a growl. It’s looking for them, and they all know they’re running out of time. 

“I have one Tree of Life I can use,” Lifeweaver shouts over the sound, “if we’re going to try this, we’re going. Now”.

The team hurries out of the storage room they were taking cover in. The creature immediately turns towards them with a deafening roar.

“Life protects life!”

The pink tree pulses brightly, stunning the beast. It approaches the offending structure with malicious curiosity. 

Venture shouts their name – the name of someone gone missing months ago. 

The beast snaps towards the sound, growling lowly as it approaches Venture. 

“Hey,” Venture says as if striking up a conversation, “I’ve heard a lot about you. And I should know a lot about you if what I’ve been told is true. I’m sorry that I don’t”.

It stops in its approach, the growling doesn’t cease, but quiets to a noise that doesn't make their body tremble with fear. It blinks at them, as if to tell them to continue.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t ever reach out and I’m sorry that I treated you the way I did,” Venture’s voice shakes, they hadn’t meant to get emotional over this, “I should’ve done better, especially when I saw that you were trying to do right by me. If you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to try to do right by you this time”. 

It lowers its bird-like head to Venture’s eye level. It stops growling and seems to be observing Venture. It makes a couple clicking sounds, the latter half of noises starting to sound like vowels. 

It’s trying to talk to me, Venture realizes in shock.

They hastily turn to rummage something out of their bag, they can hear their team yelling at them through comms to not turn their back to it, but this felt like the right thing to do.

Venture looks back to the creature, a silver ring cupped in their hands, “look! You gave this to me, didn’t you? I know I stopped wearing it, but I couldn’t just throw it away because it felt like it was something special. Too special to throw away, you know?” They rambled. 

It shifts its body, tilting its head so it can better look at the ring. Venture moves the ring in their hand, holding it between two fingers so if it wants to grab it from them, it can. For a moment, it seems like it does want to take it, it moves its head closer, emitting a soft audible vibration.  

The rumble of an engine makes both of them turn to the sound. The beast turns faster, but it’s too late. Reinhardt’s hammer slams into the side of it, sending it through brick railing and off the edge. It screeches in pain, it’s an ear piercing noise that makes everyone flinch. 

“NO,” Venture breathes in panic, racing to the ledge. 

—

Your head hurts and your body has been moving on its own accord. Every time you try to think or remember, your brain feels like it’s going to explode. So, you’ve just followed exactly what you’ve been told. And maybe it’s not so bad like this. When you do as told, you get to eat tasty food and sleep on a soft bed. And like this, you’re not hurting. You were hurting before, you think. At least that’s what she tells you. Plus, this form makes you powerful. Strong enough that no one can hurt you again, strong enough to protect- 

Protect what? You don’t remember. 

Through the fog of your brain that you left on autopilot, you can hear a name. One you should know. 

It’s your name, isn’t it? Then who’s saying it? 

You try to squint to see better, but this body doesn’t have the muscle to do so. Instead you blink, the sudden darkness stuns you for a second. The voice starts talking again, and it makes you feel. The emotions make you recoil, but you have to know. You lean down towards them to see better. 

Venture! 

‘Sloan’ you try to say. Your body doesn’t have vocal cords, so it comes out as a series of meaningless chirps. Frustrated, you try again, ‘Sloan! Venture! Help me! Save me! I’m sorry.’ None of it comes out right. 

You’re prepared to keep trying when they cut you off by searching their bag. You can hear the rustle of items better than you can understand the mess of colours in your vision – you guess your vision changed with your body, you just never noticed until now.

They bring a small trinket into your vision. It sparkles in the sun and artificial tree’s light. 

“You… me… special…”

Special… you guys were something special, weren’t you? You think it’s a ring they’re holding, but you can’t really make out an item so small. Maybe if you get closer, you’ll be able to see better.

A motorized noise makes your body’s instincts kick in, you spin towards the direction it’s coming from, snapping your beak in aggression. You barely register what’s happening when something heavy smashes into you, you can feel your bones break from the impact. Your mind blacks out. 

The ground beneath you disappears and your claws scrabble against stone to find something to keep you from falling. You manage to hook your talons into something to keep you up. 

When you regain a sense of self again, your memories come back to you in complete clarity. You almost let go of your grip because of it. You’re in full control of your body now, you realize. There’s no barrier to your thinking, it’s just you. And you're scared. You try to stretch your wings to get back up. They’re broken, you realize. You peer up desperately, Venture’s looking down at you equally as panicked. 

“Help me,” you say, expecting it to come out incomprehensible, but Venture jolts.

“Hang on,” they answer back, they’re looking around to find a way to save you. 

You feel your front claw slip from its hold as stone falls away under it. You swing your hind legs to find some kind of purchase, but there's nothing, you’re kicking at air. You take a moment to look around you, it’s all stone bridges. There’s a castle, old and adorn with moss. Familiar worn orange roofs come into sight. It’s Eichenwalde. Finally, you peek below you – you already know what you’re going to see – a seemingly endless fall. There’s a river down there, or so you’ve been told, not that you can see it through the dense fog. 

“Sloan,” you look back up and they’re moving to face you again. 

“Do you have an idea?” They ask, frazzled, a hand in their hair, “Mei’s ice wall and Niran’s petal platform don’t have any ground to work on, and his life grip was destroyed by…” 

“I’m sorry,” you try to smile, you’re not sure this body can but you try, “I’m sorry,” you repeat a couple more times. 

“I hope you’re happy,” you say. You’re concerned it came across as passive-aggressive, so you correct yourself, “be happy”.

The wall crumbles underneath your grip again, you strain to keep a hold on what’s left. You’re tired and your strength is wearing away with your adrenaline. 

“Talon… purple doctor! She!” You rattle off what you can remember, “poison, medicine, made me forget… made you forget? Hallucinations!”

“Sorry Mei…” you add. 

You let out a surprised shriek when your claws slide against stone, you’re going to fall. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you squawk. 

You think you see Mei and Sojourn silhouette besides Venture now.

“I love you. Live your life doing what makes you happy”.

You fall. 

—

The noises sound more like words now, but they’re still horribly animalistic, especially when you got more panicked. 

“I love you. Live… happy,” they had managed to make out from your last words. Venture’s heart sinks.

Venture watches you fall in horror. They can feel Sojourn and Mei’s grip on them, keeping them from doing something stupid. They scramble away from the edge as a sharp pain stabs through their head. Hazy memories returned to them. Memories of their time with you. 

Venture covers their mouth with their hands as if to keep themselves from speaking, but the guilt falls out anyways. 

“It’s my fault”.

—

A figure muses at the scene beneath her from a shadowed ledge out of Overwatch’s sight.

“Fascinating”.

Author’s Note: YOU. @archangelsarchway. YOU BETTER START RUNNING, CAUSE WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU. /pos

This is something super self-indulgent. A little treat for me, if you will 😋

I re-explained the motive behind this story to myself. And yeah, I guess I did kill Reader to save Reinhardt and Mei from being the bad guys. Sorry Moira…

Because I care too much about this world; the reason why Reader was able to become what they did is probably due to their body composition, as in, they’re not completely human to begin with – this is also probably related to their abilities that got them into Overwatch. What I’m trying to say is, Talon wouldn’t be able to create more creatures, their world is not doomed.

Quote is from Little Pistol by Mother Mother.

[sethdomain]

Badlands faction should've been a group full of mercenary

[jestiamy]

the dramatic rendition of what happened

[dangerous-advantage]

I don’t know much about rottmnt but origami ghost au? Do tell!

(for context: this ask is referring to this post.)

this was actually an idea recommended to me by (i think) @noodlenoodlenoodlenoodle, so credit where credit is due.

the basic premise is pretty angsty (paraphrasing what i remember):

one of the (rise) characters gets hospitalized, and all the others make little origami animals (one per day) out of little notes they write for when said character wakes up. (they don't wake up.)

now, i do like me some good ol' angst every once in a while, but i could not help myself with this idea. hurt/comfort is my specialty.

so, if i ever do write this, i think I'm gonna twist it around a little to be something more... convoluted.

one of the characters gets sleeping-beautified (ie put in a coma by magic means) and it is assumed they will never wake up again. meanwhile, said sleeping-beautified character wakes up in what appears to be... 16th century japan?? with a limited vocabulary, they must fend for themselves while figuring out wtaf is going on and how to get home. cue shenanigans as our real-world companions start to get "signs" that something is amiss. in order to not cause false hope, they keep it to themselves but begin their own, separate investigations. they learn that, through vague notes folded into terrible approximations of origami art (in their defense, origami is a bit harder with three fingers), they're able to communicate. but they have to hurry-- time is running out, and if they don't figure it out fast, our cursed character might actually never wake up again.

[techno-rat]

guy trying to write stupid little superhero story THWARTED by the emduo beast .

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

big fan of marriages of convenience. marry your best friend for tax benefits. marry your roommate for college tuition breaks. "marry" your love interest for plot-contrived reasons at a fake wedding, then accidentally fall in love & get married for real in the epilogue. so many possibilities!

[smooth-boob]

-

[cosmosnout]

The real reason Oda had to get rid of her was not for plot convenience, but bc she would have kicked everyone’s ass. (Source: trust me bro)

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a kind of mimicry demon.

He still gets tasked by the System with replacing Shen Qingqiu, except this time he actually has to pull off an imposter role on multiple levels, while the real Shen Qingqiu is stuck in a coma due to his qi deviation. Initially he thinks the situation is going to be temporary -- just take over until he figure out how to get the original goods to wake up -- but Shen Jiu's condition proves to be more difficult to repair than just waiting. Shen Yuan buys special side missions from the System to find items and artifacts to keep Shen Jiu alive, mainly because he doesn't want to be stuck playing this part until Luo Binghe kills him, but also after the first couple of times Shen Jiu regains some consciousness (not enough to leave his bed), Shen Yuan starts to feel kind of... bad for him. Too. Despite everything.

Shen Jiu, of course, is deeply suspicious of this doppelganger that has obviously taken advantage of his weakness to infiltrate the sect and steal his identity. He initially theorizes that the creature must be keeping him alive because it needs some aspect of his vitality in order to keep posing as him, but as they share more encounters is forced to concede that the thing might just be insane? And weirdly softhearted. Over time and by feigning sleep to listen in on Shen Yuan's muttering, he figures out that this all has something to do with Luo Binghe, which he's not pleased about. But he can't deduce what. (Luo Binghe doesn't get to move into the side room in this version of the story, because Shen Yuan has the house on lockdown for obvious reasons, but he does still get to make Shizun's meals!)

Anyway, Shen Jiu doesn't manage to conveniently wake up before the Immortal Alliance Conference. Shen Yuan has to throw Luo Binghe in, which he hates, but along the way he manages to recover that magical flower macguffin that won't work on Without-a-Cure (which he doesn't have in this AU because his species is immune to it), brews a tea that finally fixes Shen Jiu, and then fucks off to go mope about Binghe being in the Abyss.

Shen Jiu doesn't tell anyone about his demonic replacement, for a variety of reasons. One, he's punishing the other peak lords for not figuring it out themselves. Two, he's punishing himself for the fact that a literal demon replaced him for like 3 years and everyone considered it an improvement. Because it was. Three, he has mixed feelings that might potentially amount to not wanting to hunt down and kill Shen Yuan, but he's not admitting that even to himself.

Everyone thinks that Shen Qingqiu's return to asshole form is a result of Luo Binghe dying, and that his sudden new research projects are part of him like, trying to make sense of a senseless tragedy, and coping. But no, he's still trying to figure out why the fuck Luo Binghe was important and why Shen Yuan inserted himself into their lives only to basically just do Shen Qingqiu's job while he was indisposed, and then fuck off the moment Luo Binghe left the picture again.

After... healing Shen Jiu. Also. For some unfathomable reason.

But this version of the System's just happy that the plot is back on track! And surely it will stay back on track. Yes? Problem solved, right? Shen Yuan? Definitely nothing is going to mess with the rest of the story, cough cough, wait why are you visiting User 01, and what would you, a demon shapeshifter, need with a Sun & Dew seed...?

[madi-konrad]

A DEMON'S NAME UPON YOUR LIPS

It is the curse of ADHD that, at least for me, I'm always running to the next project, and then the next, chasing the new shiny thing. And that has served me well in my creative endeavors, as much as it has stymied me. But I really do think that I caught something special in my first novel, A DEMON'S NAME UPON YOUR LIPS. And thanks to how my brain works, I rarely ever promote it! Which seems unfair for how much effort I put in, alongside my friends who patiently helped me edit it.

It's a sapphic romance between a (newly minted) Duke and the demon she summons. It's a fantasy which takes place in a secondary world loosely based on Victorian-era Europe, though without any of the queerphobic, or even sexist, hatred endemic to its real-world counterpart (or even to our modern day). It's fast paced, gay as fuck, and I poured my heart and soul into it.

I'd be honored if you picked it up; it's only $5.99. About the price of a Latte.

Grab it at the following places:

itch.io (PDF, ePub, and mobi all included!)

Kobo link (ePub version)

Apple Books, Smashwords, and a few others (ePub version)

Amazon (Kindle version)

Barnes and Noble (ePub)

Synopsis below the cut:

Lucia is a succubus, a demon with the power to shape the emotions and passions of mortals. Summoned often into the world of Melodia, she takes pride in upholding her demonic contracts to the best of her abilities. She likes to think she does her job well … though a string of recent failures say otherwise.

Talia, the recently elevated Duke of Fallmire, summons Lucia for a simple reason: to pose as her wife and fulfill marital obligations to the satisfaction of Parliament. All to say, just a few weeks of walking around the estate and playing nice with the neighbors before a conveniently tragic death. Quick and easy.

But immediately, Lucia smells blood in the water. Behind closed doors, the Duke plots vengeance upon those who killed her father—and the demon wants in. Revenge, after all, is much more fun … and more lucrative, to boot.

But can Lucia predict how hard she’d fall for the Duke? (Not a chance). And can the Duke find it in her vengeful heart to love?

Spice Level: lightly described nudity, fade-to-black sex.

64,000 words.

[luna-azzurra]

Crafting Compelling Villains

1. The "Evil for the Sake of Being Evil" Villain:

This type of villain lacks depth and clear motivations. They simply exist to be wicked and cause chaos without any believable reason or backstory.

2. The One-Dimensional Bully:

This villain is characterized solely by their physical strength or intimidating presence. They lack complexity, depth, and fail to challenge the protagonist on an intellectual or emotional level.

3. The Overpowered and Unbeatable Villain:

This villain is excessively powerful with no apparent weaknesses or vulnerabilities. They pose no real threat to the protagonist, as their defeat seems implausible or impossible.

4. The Expository Villain:

This villain constantly explains their evil plans and motivations without any subtlety or nuance. Their dialogues become monotonous and predictable, diminishing the impact of their character.

5. T The Forgettable Villain:

This villain lacks distinct traits, memorable characteristics, or a unique presence. They fail to leave a lasting impression on readers and are easily overshadowed by other elements of the story

6. The Plot Device Villain:

This villain exists solely to advance the plot without any independent goals or desires. They lack agency and depth, merely serving as a convenient obstacle for the protagonist to overcome.

7. The Unrelatable Monster:

This villain is completely devoid of humanity or relatable qualities. They are monstrous in every sense, lacking any redeeming or understandable characteristics that could engage the audience emotionally.

8. The Placeholder Villain:

This villain is introduced briefly and abruptly, without any significant development or impact on the story. They serve as a mere distraction or temporary obstacle, leaving readers feeling unsatisfied.

9. The Inconsistent Motivations:

This villain's motivations and actions are erratic and inconsistent, making it difficult for readers to understand their choices. Their lack of clear direction undermines the credibility and coherence of their character.

[daydreamkissesxo]

Father Charlie x reader | Sinner pt 4; Is this how it ends?

Warnings; manipulation, coercive behaviour, mentions of pregnancy and active labour, angst, mentions of abortion (no smut this time😢)

A/N; I really struggled for this part and I’m not entirely happy with it but it’ll do😂 part 5 is cominggg

Your sudden disappearance was the talk of the church each Sunday, every family theorising what could have possibly happened.

Your mother was distraught, inconsolable as she had no explanation as to where you were or whether you were even alive.

Father Charlie often comforted her after mass, cruelly lifting her spirits by claiming that you would one day return, though he knew otherwise.

Your family's persistent searching often left him anxious, that they'd somehow trace your disappearance back to him.

He'd thought of several different ways to resolve the issue, all exposing your pregnancy one way or another with the knowledge that your parents would disown you for it.

He'd thought of carefully planting a pregnancy test in one of your coat pockets after conveniently visiting your family home to console your mother, hoping she'd find it as she rummaged for clues as to your whereabouts.

He'd even considered paying one of the local homeless men to falsely inform your mother that he'd seen you leaving town with a blossoming baby bump, but that seemed to be one of the riskier options, he knew he'd be setting himself up for blackmail.

You were completely oblivious to the state your family were in, confined to the four walls of Father Charlie's home as he claimed it would be impossible for you to leave it without being noticed now that half of the town knew you were missing.

His intentions were far from pure, he disguised his reasons for keeping you a prisoner in his home as concern for the abandonment you'd inevitably receive from your family if they discovered the truth.

He'd carefully manipulated you into believing that he had done nothing wrong, that he acted on the lust you inflicted upon him and that any consequences were only yours to suffer.

You were disconnected from the outside world as he'd even taken away your phone, claiming that you were easy to trace as long as you were in possession of it.

Each day that passed was another that he'd paralysed your mind, ridding you of your independence unconsciously so that you were solely reliant on him for even the most basic human care.

He had a strong desire to control every aspect of your life, carefully planting small seeds of doubt in your mind that you were incapable of making your own decisions and taking proper care of yourself.

He provided you with a home, the clothes that you wore, the food that you ate and the comfort most people long for, it made him feel so unbelievably powerful.

He'd carefully prepared every meal you'd eat, insisting that he knew best where nutritional value was concerned due to his previous work as a personal trainer, yet his intention was to ensure you never ate unless he provided it, much like a dependant child.

The only time he'd leave your side was to fulfil his duties at the church and even then he wondered if that were too long, he couldn't risk leaving your mind unoccupied.

Despite his extreme measures you'd never once thought of yourself as a prisoner, he appeared so attentive and caring that you believed it was just in his nature, not part of his carefully crafted plot to manipulate the woman he'd purposely impregnated so she could never exist without him.

You couldn't help but feel like a house pet, always perched on the sofa or beside him in bed with no real purpose other than incubating his unborn child.

Father Charlie had managed to convince you not to see anyone of the medical profession during your pregnancy, claiming that once you'd stepped foot over the threshold of a hospital that they'd inform your family immediately.

Being so fearful of their disappointment, you agreed that a doctor he had known previous to becoming a priest could regularly check you over.

Violent nausea woke you from your slumber each morning, you'd spend the majority of your day hunched over the toilet bowl and for that father Charlie was pleased, while you were in that state you were incapable of even attempting to leave which bought him more time to work his manipulative ways.

While he was sympathetic to your sickness, he strongly felt it was the perfect punishment for trying to end your pregnancy, though he never told you that.

He hadn't totally forgiven you for your actions but he wasn't a complete monster, he knelt beside you to hold your hair back when he could.

In an ideal world, the two of you would have been married and equally excited for the arrival of your child, but the conception date made it difficult for him to find a way to leave his position at the church without exposing his sexual relationship with you during his time there.

It was at dinner one night that he'd noticed how withdrawn you'd become, assuming it was due to the toll early pregnancy was having on your body but the sound of stifled sobs caused him to stiffen.

He'd immediately placed the dinner plates onto the table, rushing to your side to kneel beside the chair where you sat.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked softly, lifting one of his hands to gently cup your cheek and wipe away your tears, caressing your soft skin with his thumb.

"I..miss my family.." you whispered quietly, your gaze thankfully adverted as Father Charlie clenched his jaw in growing frustration for the reason of your sudden sadness.

"I know you do. But think about it..your family think you've run away. You can't just suddenly show up pregnant, with no husband in sight." He attempted to sound reasonable and sympathetic, as if his sole purpose of keeping you within the four walls of his home was for your own good and not his.

"You're not the reincarnation of Mary, somebody put that baby inside of you and they'll want to know who."

You flinched at his words, perhaps he didn't mean to be so crass but the thought of you exposing him as the father of your child made him anxious.

Hurt by his words, you attempted to turn your head away but his hand nudged at your cheek to force your head back towards him.

"This goes beyond you, sweetheart. What about me? How can I support you if I lose my position? We'll lose this house, I'll lose the support of the community."

He intended to scare you into thinking the two of you could never survive if he were to lose his priesthood, that the luxury that came with the role was the only acceptable choice for your new family.

He knew you'd feel guilty enough at the thought of him losing everything he'd ever worked for to not raise the issue again, but it didn't stop you from feeling disappointed.

He placed one of his palms against your barely noticeable bump, a prideful smile replacing the scowl he wore a moment before.

"This is what happens, sweet girl. You move on, and you start your own family..you leave those you love behind to make space in your heart for new." He said in a soft yet condescending tone, attempting to sever the ties between you and your family completely.

You lowered your gaze as you allowed his words to soak in, unknowingly ingesting the poison that would slowly rid you of your clarity.

His infectious smile caused you to smile back, and for the first time during your pregnancy, you felt hopeful for the future the two of you would share.

Your second trimester brought its own challenges, your breasts were notably larger and constantly sore, and you were almost always in discomfort as the skin of your abdomen stretched to accommodate your growing bundle of joy.

Most days were spent perched in the same spot on the living room couch, no longer able to read nor watch the television as the outside world was all that seemed to occupy your mind.

Each time father Charlie left for mass you'd spend your hour of isolated silence staring out of the window into the front garden, watching as spring finally swept away the darkness of winter.

Once naked tree branches were now beautifully decorated with blossoming flower buds, sparsely planted flowers blooming from the ground while nature began to emerge from its hibernation.

Butterflies were a rare sighting so you were always pleased when one did appear, you thought you'd struck gold as two suddenly appeared to drift past and settle on the window ledge.

You leant closer to the window in fascination, A beautiful white butterfly trapped beneath a black and red patterned one.

It was oddly symbolic, the darkness holding the pure and innocent captive, much like how Father Charlie held you.

The sudden sound of a closing door forced you to jump, your hand falling to your rounded belly to clutch it as you glanced over your shoulder, your gaze meeting Father Charlie's.

He stood frozen in the doorway as he took a moment to admire the sight before him, how beautiful you looked as you sit and wait for him to return, the natural light reflecting against your skin to create a radiant glow.

"There's my girl." He murmured as he walked over to take a seat beside you, excitedly placing a hand on either side of your pregnant belly.

"Not much longer and I can finally come home to two beautiful girls." He chuckled, lowering his head to press a soft peck to the top of your baby bump.

"We don't know if we're having a girl." You replied, quietly giggling as you found his assumption of the gender amusing seeing as he was so adamant.

"Oh she's definitely a girl." He argued, lifting his head to look up at you before leaning in to place a delicate kiss to your lips, silencing you from correcting him once more.

He'd pulled away before you even had chance to reciprocate, your lips left parted as your eyes met once more.

"How have you been feeling? I thought perhaps we could take a walk around the church grounds later, get some fresh air?" He offered, a reward for your compliance now that he was confident you'd never run.

Later, meaning after it had gotten dark as he certainly couldn't allow anyone to see you now you were very visibly pregnant.

He watched as your eyes lit up with excitement at such a small offering of freedom and it left him nervous, mentally questioning how you'd act if he ever accidentally left the door unlocked.

"Great. But first, I've got some ideas about the nursery I'd like to run by you." He added, his hand falling from your bump to his pocket to retrieve his phone.

He lifted it slightly as he swiped through his apps in search of the photo one, clicking on it to then scroll upwards in search of the screenshots he'd taken from various shopping sites for inspiration.

"I was thinking neutral? Seeing as you're not going to let me paint it pink." He teased, smiling as he held the phone up just enough for you to see the inspiration photos he had.

It was later that evening that he'd taken you to the church grounds as promised, aware that gentle exercise is essential for expectant mothers and would aid the correct positioning of the baby as your due date drew closer.

He kept a slow pace as he walked beside you, acknowledging that due to the pressure bearing down on your pelvis it was uncomfortable to walk any faster.

Despite the discomfort, the walk was more than pleasing as you'd finally got to feel the fresh spring breeze brush past your skin while taking in a view far more pleasant than the same four walls of his home.

The church held many memories for you, most fond while some were unpleasant, such as your scuffle with Father Charlie.

You'd often dreamed of marrying at such a beautiful place, though now the thought of marriage was no longer as your relationship with Father Charlie would be frowned upon by most.

He'd often wondered whether you missed the church, the beautiful hymns you knew every word of and the scriptures you'd followed so closely until his corruption of you.

"Do you miss being here?" He asked sincerely after noticing the longing in your eyes as you take in the view, for once not taking the opportunity to taunt you.

You nodded simply in response, reminiscent of the Sundays you'd spent sat amongst your family as you looked for guidance from the Lord, when your feelings for Father Charlie were nothing more than your best kept secret.

"I do. I wish I'd have had some self restraint, things may have been different.."

Father Charlie grew stiff at your confession, your words of regret made him feel both uncomfortable and somewhat sad.

"But I'm not regretful. What good is regret? Everyone's path in life is different, and if it's God's will..I will gladly accept the path chosen for me." You softly add, turning your attention towards him as you smile warmly.

Somehow he'd felt even more sad, God's will never played a part in your fate, it was his decisions that led you down the path you now walked.

The warmth of your smile filled him with nothing more than shame, more shame than he'd inflicted upon you for attempting to better your future by aborting the living evidence of your sexual relationship, he understood in that very moment why you'd considered it.

You gently took hold of his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as a way of showing that the two of you would walk your ill fated path together.

"God will forgive us for our sins, and I hope you will forgive me for the selfish decision I almost made.." You timidly said, his reaction to the abortion you almost endured still ingrained on your mind.

Father Charlie could only respond with a smile, truly stunned by your sudden remorse and compliance, it was deeply unnerving.

Father Charlie never truly recovered from that day, he'd become even more nervy and on edge, waiting for you to one day take your revenge instead of now appreciating the compliance he'd always sought from you.

It was several weeks until your supposed due date and you could barely tell the difference between every day pain and possible contractions.

The pain prevented you from sleeping at night, every time you'd settle another sharp pain in your lower abdomen would disturb you, leaving you exhausted and desperate for your pregnancy to be over with.

Father Charlie felt your accidental nudges throughout the night as you stirred, always waking from his own slumber to ask whether you were okay.

He was reluctant to leave for mass one morning but you insisted he should, convinced that the pain was nothing more than those practise contractions you'd read so much about, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

The pain became drastically worse and had you still been in possession of your phone, you'd have called the first contact you could to come and help.

The intense pain lasted for just a few seconds every couple of minutes, it was a pain you could only describe as a tightening squeeze across your lower abdomen.

Father Charlie had returned from mass to find you slumped against the wall in the hallway with your knees slightly bent up towards your chest, your hand desperately shaking as you clutched at your belly while your body writhed in pain.

His eyes widening in panic as dropped his briefcase in desperate hurry, rushing to your side faster than his mind could even comprehend before falling to his knees beside you.

Your skin was visibly clammy while your face was scrunched in clear discomfort, your purposeful drawn out breathes interrupted as loud pain filled sobs erupt from your lips when another contraction reached its peak.

Father Charlie was visibly panicked, untrained and certainly not educated enough to deliver a baby but there was hardly any time to wait for his doctor friend.

"Baby? Baby, tell me how far apart the contractions are?" He asked, attempting to sound confident while completely overcome with nerves, raising a hand to softly stroke your hair in an attempt to comfort you.

"I, I don't know!" You choke out, arching your back from against the wall as the pain rippled through your abdomen uncomfortably.

Unbeknownst to father Charlie, your mother had followed him home in hope of seeking the comfort he'd often provided her in regard to your disappearance.

Though he could hardly hear a thing over your agonised sobbing, a loud knock at the door followed by a familiar voice caused him to freeze in absolute panic.

"Father Charlie, are you there?" She called out, and the sound of your mother's comforting voice was everything you'd wished to hear as your body fought to bring new life into the world.

Father Charlie glanced over his shoulder at the door, his breath audibly trembling as he believed the two of you would inevitably be caught.

He felt your body tense beside him, confident that a contraction was impending, and as you began to let out a violent sob his hand came to harshly cover your mouth to muffle it.

It felt sickeningly cruel to touch you this way knowing the intense pain that rushed throughout your body, but he just needed to let your mother leave before attending to your greatly immense suffering and the delivery of his beautiful baby.

Taglist; @targaryenswhxre @dckweed @psychocitylights @yoongling 💖💖

[johnskleats]

is anyone going to tell the kat@angers that it's not feminist activism to argue Katara's arc in LOK is fine on the grounds that "some women want to be homemakers and that's okay!!"

Like you're not helping real women that way. In fact, most antis for the cannon ship ARE women. Many are homemakers themselves.

Katara is not a real woman. She is a fictional woman written by men.

Can the sensibilities and wishes of a girl change by the time she is a adult? Yes!

But as this is a textual character who, as per the text, rejects the societal structure of her fictional world (which mirrors our own) that women are and can only ever be docile homemakers (i.e. I don't want to heal, I want to fight; I will never turn my back on people who need me; let's start a prison riot; let's engage in vigilante ecoterrorism; let's pitch an absolute fit because the boys are not pulling their fair weight in the homemaking; let's confront my mother's killer at the absolute rejection and condemnation of the male figures whom I am to respect; etc) it is perfectly reasonable to argue that this end was not a natural course for her character.

Fictional characters are not real people. This means that they do not change their mind off screen. That is not an acceptable argument. That is called a "plot hole", which is a nonsensical change made at the convenience and contrivance of the writer(s), who in this case are men exhibited to not care for women or girls all that much. It is within THEIR character to write this way.

Regardless of who, if anyone, Katara ended up with, Katara tolerating disrespect, neglect, abuse of her children, giving up all of her former aspirations to live in the shadow of men, and dying as a mere footnote in history (and being alright with it!!) is not surprising given the absolute vitriol Bryke has shown toward female fans of their "creation". It was supposed to be a "boy" show. It was always supposed to be a "boy" show. The creators of Supernatural and Game of Thrones did the same thing. ATLA just did it first.

Arguing "not all women" is not activism in the face of what is really happening in this discourse. Sending death threats to real, actual women with feelings in defense of a fake pretend woman's fake pretend autonomy is performative activism, and worse, hypocritical.

Not all women agree with you. Not all women feel represented and find the outcome of Katara's story satisfactory. If y'all care about feminism and respecting women's choices so much, lay off the real life women you're so fond of harassing. Our views and opinions, while opposing your own, don't affect you.

[paper-mario-wiki]

Shangri-La Frontier mid-season review

This is by far the best fake video game I've ever seen written in fiction.

Most MMO-centric isekai stories have trouble with providing accurate and realistic depictions of the complexities and minutia that give MMOs the allure they have. I've seen so much handwavey bullshit tacked onto fake-games that introduce unrealistically overlooked mechanics for reasons like giving the protag immense power just because they're the protag and the story is about them. A good example of this is another MMO Isekai airing this season, "A Playthrough of a Certain Dude's VRMMO Life", wherein the main character becomes extremely rich, powerful, and famous by episode 2 because he stumbled into a stealth archer playstyle, a build which apparently no human in that universe had ever conceived of before, and then making a fortune by selling basic potions to everyone after NPCs stopped selling them (another thing he was uniquely able to do because not a single other player had the forethought to spec into alchemy). These lesser, dime-a-dozen isekai add up to be boring fantasy strories with gaming elements clumsily put in so that the author can demonstrate how powerful the world's inhabitants are by showing their stat allocation screen instead of, say, explaining anything about what they do that's so uniquely powerful and how they figured it out. Ya know, stuff you'd hope to hear about from any competent story.

Shangri-La Frontier is a breath of fresh air for anyone who, like me, is sick of authors ignoring the things that actually make video games compelling in service of creating a stock-standard narratives in fantasy worlds because it allows them to get away with bullshit. I've always found it very convenient that many isekai narratives indulge in things like chattel slavery, because it's societally normal enough for the protag to purchase a beautiful, vulnerable girl to add to his harem (dont worry, she is always inexplicably in love with him no matter what because he's SUCH a kind master). And it never really seems to go anywhere. Because the Video Game Isekai, while an interesting premise in theory, is more often than not used exclusively as a means to simplify the structure of a world's power scaling to abide by an arbitrary set of omnipresent universal rules (e.g. what people who have never cared to look into game development think of video games). This anime, by comparison, is VERY clearly authored by someone who plays a LOT of games.

Every piece of logic used to drive the plot forward, so far, is congruent to a real-world example of video game conventions, and I'm not just talking about levelling up and selling monster parts. Story elements that I've rarely (if ever) seen explored in other isekai are ever-present and genuinely clever and amusingly introduced. My favorite example of this so far has been the way the protagonist has been able to go head to head with so many overlevelled foes in the first 9 episodes. The story of course makes note of how good of a gamer Sanraku (our hero) is, but much like in real life games, being super duper good at dodging attacks doesn't really make up for a 70 level gap in items and learned skills. For that reason, he gets his ass whooped more often than he actually outsmarts others (so far he hasn't beaten a single player in pvp). So how is he getting out of these situations without dying so frequently? Simple: he got access to a later area too early relative to his level (sequence break) and got access to a high level follower NPC that's been carrying him. This is something he acknowledges directly several times, specifically using words like "Emul has been hard-carrying me for a while." This, to me, is extraordinarily meaningful. That's something you can exploit in Skyrim, man. That's REALISTIC CHEESE STRATS. The excitement and wonder I find in this show doesn't come from watching the protag do something unexpected, but by watching him do something that I would think to do.

This knowledge the author has demonstrated regarding modern gaming culture extends further into the actual realistic nature of game design and community. The story exists in a reality where full-dive VRMMOs are the be-all-end-all of gaming, and given the prohibitively expensive nature of developing and designing expansive, immersive worlds, most games are pretty shit. It's been hinted at so far that this is due to a monopolistic megacorp which is one of the only entities rich and powerful enough to make a good game (the game in question being the one that shares the title of the anime), but so far the strife of the characters have been pretty centralized to the happenings of the game world and its politics. By the way, lets talk about the game world's player base politics, which I'm also quite pleased with. It exists in the form of guilds and clans who struggle for power not by participating in seemingly random pvp with other powerful players to see who is the most epic and badass warrior (again, like many contemporary isekai typically opt for), but by gaining actual realistic support from a fictional playerbase with realistic desires and playstyles. Some guilds are interested in lore, some gather for alliance and boss raids, some for things like animal husbandry, and (naturally) at least one is dedicated to trolling and PKing. Each of these factions, through the very little that we've seen of them so far, communicate on forums and only know as much as is reasonable for them to know. The only reason they give a shit about the protagonist at all is because he gained access to a high-level unique scenario quest that they want information on how to access, and the only reason word of that got out in the first place was because someone posted a screenshot of him with a unique NPC onto a forum, asking about it as "where can i find this pet summon, its super cute!" That's real. That's video games, baby.

I like this show a lot so far. I like that it cares about video games, but I also like its writing. I like the main character and how hes less of an ultra badass super cool guy, and more of an earnest challenge-run lets player. Like, a lot of his dialogue straight up sounds strikingly similar to Japanese youtubers. And he's naturally always quick to point out inconsistencies in the game world's logic. I ALSO really like his community of pals from a janky old fighting game, and I ADORE the girl from his school who has a crush on him and also just so happens to be an exceptionally high level player from a top clan, and how she had to spend 9 episodes working up the courage to send him a friend request. I love that so, so much, dude.

I highly recommend this show if you're into a single thing I've mentioned. The animation is great. The world is beautiful. The character design is immaculate. And I'm looking forward to watching it continue.

[harrietvane]

So, in Busman’s Homeymoon, Lord Peter buys Harriet Vane a mink cloak worth 950 pounds (according to the Dowager Duchess’ journal entry), but he buys Tallboys for “only” 650 pounds.

Even bearing in mind that real estate really did used to be cheaper, do you understand how that is possible? Or how to find out more about relative purchasing power? I used an online calculator website which gave me some figures, but it still seems insane that one could buy an entire Elizabethan farmhouse for 2/3 the price of a garment! Very curious to learn from others who understand this better than I do.

Ah, I see my esteemed colleague @oldshrewsburyian has also had some interesting thoughts on this, so I'll link that here as well before I begin.

So, it's a legitmate question, and there's no catch-all simple answer (in the gotcha sense of 'why didn't i know that bit of cultural Truth'), but there are mitigating factors that take it from a ridiculous price comparison, to merely outlandish. Even taking into account that the coat is quoted in guineas, not pounds, and that PW says the bank valued Talboys at £800 via a mortgage (the paid price was a discount, for paying in cash quickly, which is Plot Relevant), it gets us to roughly the same place, value-wise. Or shall we say PRICE-wise, rather than value, as I'll get into below. There's several factors at play here - they mainly relate to class, and spending power:

-The house is Not That Great, in terms of the kind of property that PW would usually be buying. I mean it is still a large-ish house, big enough to have 2 adults and small children in, but it's not what would be on his radar normally. The only reason they know about it, it that it's near a place where HARRIET grew up as a child. It's not getting any high marks in particular Beauty, Convenience, or Quality - the main reason HV's drawn to it is sentiment, rather than anything else. They both know that they will have to significantly add to it, and alter it, in order for it to be a comfortable home. That would usually be out-of-budget for someone in Harriet's position, who would expect to buy something that meets her needs 'as-is'. Most people looking at buying that house would be Harriets not Peters, so it might be a tough sell.

-The house has no power, and limited plumbing: There's dark references to DRAINS by the dowager duchess, it's entirely possible that this house has no modern plumbing at all - they make the comparison that the huge palace the Wimseys grew up in wasn't plumbed until recently, but then again they do have about 800 servants, whereas Talboys is just a regular house: they will have Bunter alone (at first), with an assist from Mrs Ruddle. There's mention of "a cistern" with some basic valves, but the scullery is mentioned as having a copper, from which hot water is "scooped into a large bath-can" - a copper being, simply, a large metal basin over a fire, in effect. No running hot water, maybe no flushable loos - it's a factor. They also talk specifially about having to electrify Talboys themselves - it's candles and lamps until then. It's fancy camping. By the mid-1930s, a lot of middle-class buyers would expect a little more convenience in both water and wiring, unless they had significant support staff, which Talboys would not be expected to house.

-There's probably no farm! It's a farm house - not a wider land purchase. People like PW's brother the Duke are wealthy primarily because they own land, not because of the big palace they have (which eats money, rather than generates it). The land is what gives them spending power, because other people are paying them rent to live on it, farm on it, or both. PW's own personal 'younger sibling' wealth is also mentioned somewhere to be primarily in real estate (assumed to be in London) - sad to say: he's a landlord, and that's why he's rich. Talboys, on the other hand, as a purchase, would not, in almost any way, be expected to generate revenue through either farming, agriculture, or charging rent. Until they invent house flipping in 80 years, or until the motorway goes through in 40 years, there's not much expectation that Talboys would increase all that much in value.

-Lastly, there's a massive disparity in what The Market Will Bear when we compare a basic residence vs a luxury item (like a mink coat) in the mid-1930s. This is not particular to that time, though. Like any first-year economics student will tell you, the price of something is not it's intrinsic value, it's what someone is WILLING to pay for it. If someone is willing to pay such a price, that's the price it will be. So, we're not comapring Objects, we're comparing Buyers: the the main purchasers of a slightly run-down farmhouse located nowhere special are Harriets, and main purchasers of mink coats are Peters. Talboys is priced for Harriets. The mink coat is priced for Peters.

Compare for example, a contemporary parallel: the Hermes Birkin bag. It's a leather handbag with a starting retail price of about USD 11,400. Just for the bag. Then, you have fancier versions of the fancy bag, eg wikipedia tells me one version sold at auction for USD 380,000 in Hong Kong in 2017. Now, the Harriets of today are not buying a Hermes Birkin handbag, but they are probably trying to buy slightly run-down houses outside urban centers for (one hopes) slightly less than 380k. The Wimseys of the worlds are clearly buying Birkin bags. In that way, it's actually pretty easy to get to a place where Person A might buy a single luxury item for X pounds, and Person B might buy a whole residence for X pounds, and neither feel like they'd done something insane. The key here is in a Wimsey/Vane marriage, they run up against this concept immediately, and repeatedly.

There's a good reason the first epistolary section of the novel is almost entirely taken up with money chat - the ring, the purchase of shirts from Burlington Arcade, the marriage settlement, the gift from the bride to the groom, the mink coat, the bitchy exchange between Helen and Harriet about HV being allowed "six free copies of her book" to distribute. These people come from 2 fundamentally different experiences of the world. They might have gotten engaged using the word 'Magistra', specifically to emphasise their fundamental equality (in the context of learning and the mind, to begin with), but it can't be denied: there's gaps that need to be bridged. They both know parts of their married life will be spent in attempting to do that, hopefully to their mutual satisfaction. Mention of a mink coat for 950 guineas is a nice, neat shorthand for illustrating what's still at play between them here.