#a little treatise on my fucked up guy!!!!

[sparingiscaring]

Oh my god this is incredible???? The murder of the future... amazing!!! Amazing!!!!

My fic for @sparingiscaring for the @fallenlondonficswap! Sorry its a little bit late. (576 words)

Things in Parabola rot much the same as other things rot. It is a process, not of destruction per se, but of reclamation. Putrefaction. Transformation. Bacteria and fungi, bugs and worms, rain and wind and soil and sunlight; all take their piece, eat their fill of blood and skin and marrow, make a dead thing into a fractal of new life. On the other side of the mirror too, does its reflection die. Its name is scattered to the ever-whispering wind and among the ever-mumbling trees, syllable by syllable. Its walls are colonized by slim vines of poetry and metaphoric wildflowers. Its tiles sink into the mud of allusion and memory. Mushrooms in viric and cosmogone sprout upon dead nightmares, frothing with the uneasy but ultimately comforting relief that comes when one awakes from a bad dream, its visage already slipping into nothingness. A whole becomes fragments, and the fragments become wholes - divorced of context, scrubbed of their past by the wear of a thousand hands. Stripped down, bit by bit, until only what is utterly indigestible remains. GANT. The colour that remains when all else is eaten. The remainder-colour, the one that stains bone and offal. That which is left behind at the bottom of the Waswood's waters as the present burrows unceasingly into the future. The colour of that which has been abandoned - unimportant, undesired. The Wizened Silverer studies it carefully, the cosmogone of his spectacles shielding his eyes from the otherwise undeniable desire to flick it to the ground as unwanted garbage. A broken fragment of something - smooth, and shiny. Red, once - the patina of something-not-quite-black hasn't quite spread around to all of it. The only clue to its origin is its rather more dramatic partner - a skull, jawbone missing, its back shattered. a bullet, half-buried in the damp earth beneath it. All of them consumed with that selfsame colour. A rejection occurred here. A brutal, final, undeniable one. Something unloved died here. Not this man - at least, not just this man. There is a reason he found this here, in a half forgotten little pocket of Parabola, seemingly shunned by the roads and paths that would usually swarm and slither so eagerly to it. This was the betrayal of a promise. The shunning of a past, the murder of a future. Everything this man was and represented, was rejected earnestly and utterly. An absolute excision. What else was there for his remnants to do then, but reject themselves? The Wizened Silverer shivered, despite the jungle's eternal heat. This was not a good place. Good men who had lived good lives did not die such deaths. Still. He had found this place shunned and tucked away, an ugly scar hidden from sight - but he had found it. The Is-Not, in the end, truly rejected nothing. For every Wasn't, there was, somewhere, a Was; for every choice, there was a twin. If every mirror must have a reflection, then every reflection must have a mirror. Parabola had many roads, and none, in the end, were untaken. Nothing had loved this unfortunate fellow; and yet, someone, somewhere, must have. He did not know who, or where, or why. He did not know what kind of life this skull's twin lived. But it was good, the Silverer felt, that he did. He stood, and strode off from the clearing; there was nothing suitable for his work here. Let these bones rest, and dream of somewhere else.

[sufficientlylargen]

It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:

Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.

Guard 1: What weird guy?

Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?

Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?

Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.

Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.

Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.

Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.

Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.

Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?

Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.

Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?

Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.

Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.

Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.

Librarian: How long has he been coming here?

Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.

Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.

Guard 2: Wait, really?

Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.

Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?

Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.

Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?

Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!

Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?

Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.

Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!

Archivist: Also he's really old.

Guard 1: Old as balls.

Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.

Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.

Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.

Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.

Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?

Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.

Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.

Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?

Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.

Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?

Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.

Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?

Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!

Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!

Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.

Guard 1: Why not?

Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?

Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!

Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.

Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.

Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!

Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.

Archivist: You're not a baby.

Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!

Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.

Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?

Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?

Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?

Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.

Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?

Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.

Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.

Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.

Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?

Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.

Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?

Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.

Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.

Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?

Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!

Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?

Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?

Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-

Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?

Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?

Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!

Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)

Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?

Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.

Librarian: Oh.

Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.

Librarian: Oh.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah!

[bonaesperanza]

More random Captive Prince thoughts, because I feel like being a sadist to all of my mutuals these books are living rent-free in my head right now. These ones are more about the plot and the worldbuilding.

Worldbuilding-wise, I loved the attention to detail, because as far as I could tell all the little details of how a medieval-ish army functions and how you would run it and what you would do with the horses and the supplies and the roads etc. etc. were pretty accurate. I mean, these books are by no means a treatise on warfare (in fact they can be delightfully pulpy, which I liked - I grew up on The Three Musketeers and the Scarlet Pimpernell and similar swashbuckling novels, and I got some of the same feelings here!), but there were details in there that most other authors don't bother to put in or inadvertently fuck up (I love ASOIAF to death but historically accurate it is not), and most of the military stuff seemed plausible enough as well, though again not described in too much detail so you can fill it in with your own assumptions or skim over if it's not something that particularly interests you. And I also loved the architectural details and could imagine everything quite well, but again, as I said previously, this may be because the author spent some time living near where I live so we've seen a lot of the same stuff probably.

Actually when I was first reading it and thinking it was going to be bad I was reading it exclusively for the architectural details lol, I was like yeah, yeah, they're all sucking each other off, but Damen please tell me again how you feel about the tiling?

What I also particularly liked is how the... scale of the conflict I guess? was refreshingly accurate for the "historical period".

The worldbuilding is a mashup of Ancient Greece and medieval France, but what it really felt like to me is a world where the Roman Empire never really consolidated to the extent that it did in our world and Italy went on into the middle ages (because these are decidedly feudal systems) with Cisalpine Gaul having the, well, Gallic culture, while the South had a Greek one. I may be thinking this because I live in Italy and so everything reminds me of Italy, but once I thought of it I couldn't unsee it.

I guess I gotta put in a cut somewhere and now's as good of a time as any?

But anyway, back to the scale of the conflict, the actual middle ages were filled with small and mid-sized countries, and petty local conflicts with family members turning onto each other over succession and stuff, and random small territories going back and forth (well, that's just Europe in general, always, TBH), and this is how it all felt like to me. Actual medieval history has a guy who started a rebellion because his brothers threw a pisspot at him and his father did nothing about it and he felt humiliated, and the war was secretly funded by his mother, so the combination of the small scale with a random local conflict that probably literally nobody cares about outside of the region we are in + everything being so intensely driven by interpersonal drama between insane people felt really authentic to me, like the kind of weird historical moment that would get turned into a funny Tumblr post. And of course the royals did a lot more sneaking around than was probably smart, but I can forgive that for the swashbuckling vibes and also because if Cleopatra could sneak into a palace in a carpet these guys can do whatever they want in my book.

Speaking of the petty interpersonal drama, I also liked the emphasis on how in this system personal reputation and the performance of kingship are king. Usually when you have a heavily political story it's much more based on the quid-pro-quo, "rational actor" kind of politics, but medieval politics also had a lot more going on in the cultural sense (and so do modern politics actually but at least pretending to be a "rational actor" IS the modern performance of leadership), and here you had people dealing political blows through meticulous management of their own and others' political reputations, which was fun to see, especially in combination with so many manipulative bastard characters. Like, how Laurent is manipulated into going to the border just because looking like a coward will lose him more political points than he can afford, and Damen's continued wearing of the slave cuff and instistence on not being served by slaves initially deals massive blows to his reputation, because these are cultures that value heroism, of one sort or another.

(And speaking of heroism, the emphasis on the physical activity-related activities that are the centerpiece of noble life in both countries were wonderful, especially since because both Ancient Greece and the European Middle Ages were really into that in their respective ways and it makes the mashup feel really well-done and coherent in how she tied it together.)

What's notable is a lack of any kind of religion, which felt particularly glaring during the whole Kingsmeet thing - in the real world there would likely be a belief in some kinda curse from the Gods or something similar to discourage the drawing of weapons, but since I'm not really religious and tend not to personally care about religion (while ofc recognizing its anthropological importance) I really didn't care and it didn't diminish my enjoyment of the series.

Still, I do have to say that the ending of the last book felt reeeeaally rushed, and that felt really glaring exactly because the rest of the series had such amazing detail work and excellent pacing and very gradual plot development.

I didn't get the part with the doctor and the letter (why didn't he say anything earlier? how would they verify the authenticity of the letter? Did anyone even have the time to READ the thing?) but I'm gonna be honest with you here, I read book 3 under a heavy fever and it was like 2 AM when I got to that part, so I'm not sure that I haven't missed something that makes it make more sense.

BUT even if that part makes sense, I feel like the Regent was dealt with far too quickly. Like in one paragraph he is in control of everything, in the next they've already beheaded him and that's it. I can imagine in my head that a lot of the nobles were probably already sick of him and took little convincing, that they were disapproving both of his meddling in foreign politics and of his likely grave breach of cultural rules via taking an aristo kid as a pet, or that he initially rationally seemed a better choice over Laurent until Laurent proved himself to be more competent and with a more competent ally, or they already had some hints about what happened that the audience didn't and the evidence confirmed what was inconclusive before.

But I feel like in a series that spends so much time detailing the shifting alliances between the characters and the public's opinion on everyone that matters? I really needed to be sold on it a bit more. Like I really needed some discussion over what to do with the Regent, I needed them to keep him in a cell for a while as they decided whether to kill him (and have the leads scared that the Regent will turn them over as Laurent often does to people), I needed them to consider the evidence just a little bit more, I needed some post mortem with the council members where they explain what was happening on their side of the things. It needed to be MUCH longer and more detailed.

Another thing I wondered at was why the Regent was so insistent to paint Laurent's collaborations with the Akielons as a bad thing when he was... also collaborating with the Akielons? Like he is foaming at the mouth calling them barbarians and accusing Laurent of sleeping with the prince-killer but it feels more like setup for Damen's big declaration of love than an actual political strategy because my brother in Christ, you are literally in the Akielon royal palace, in the middle of Akielos to which you ran after your nephew started a rebellion, with the Akielon king sitting next to you as your equal. Why do you think that you can convince your people that YOUR Vere-Akielos alliance is somehow more morally pure than Laurent's? This was also the right moment to pull out all the patricide allegations that seemed to be going around for Damen, but IIRC he didn't use that as much as he could if at all.

Since there were some Akielons in the room as well, I was also wondering WTF was Kastor doing as the Regent was shitting on his country and calling them barbarians and making it like allying with them is a grave transgression? Why was HE allowing this humiliation? It felt like a very unpolitical thing to do from a character whose strength was in his political acumen (obviously meaning the Regent, not Kastor) and the plot just let it slide by.

I feel like a lot of this is due to this being the first time that the story had to fit within the constraints of a traditional book? So it needed a decisive traditional climax and perhaps it was getting too long for a traditional format, or the author got a bit tired of it and wanted to wind it up now that she wasn't getting regular feedback as you do with serialized publishing, or she prioritized emotional impact over plot logic.

I don't know. I still think they're great books, and the conclusion was emotionally satisfying in the sense that the psychological and interpersonal threads were wrapped up impeccably, I just wanted more detail on the political side. It's still grabbed me like nothing else did for a long time, I can take a mid ending, half of my favourite series will never have one at all because the author wrote themselves into a corner and then died lol.

[bitethedevil]

what annoys me the most about "canonically bad in bed", a list

- this is coming from hist LITERAL DILDO, like sorry he is not trying to pleasure his dildo, DO YOU PLEASE YOUR DILDO OR YOURSELF WHEN U GET OFF??? (totally understand haarlep is unhappy #freehaarlep but that is not the topic of this treatise)

- masturbation is always auto-erotic. e.g. almost all pornography directed at straight men shows men glorification of THEIR role in a sex situation, almost all erotica directed at straight women shows THEM being desired, it is always abt u and ur ego

- being "good" or "bad" in bed is a normative bullshit question I am frankly annoyed tav can even ask, because different people like different things, and this game is otherwise a lot better written about sex and gender stuff. also if you play haarlep's game, tav lies there like a starfish doing nothing at all, and haarlep likes it?? we should get rid of normative sexual evaluations of others smh

- there are people who like topping, people who like bottoming, frankly this is kinda toxic homophobic/misogynistic "haha, he was the one *getting* fucked all the time" implying a. the fuck-ee is dominated by the fuck-er and fucking is a violent act of dominance (untrue), and b. bottoms are somehow lesser than tops? so much wrong with this!!

- if I recall correctly haarlep just says raphael was bad in bed and always on bottom, and nothing about how long he lasts, and then the only way tav can use this knowledge to provoke raphael is by ASSUMING he doesn't last for very long, which is like wtf? why would u shame someone with some made-up toxic sex norms/assume they try to last when they masturbate? (even in case haarlep does say raphael cums too soon, shaming people for cumming too quick is such an incredibly mean thing, they can't control it)

- it is kinda sad (and toxic ngl) that raphael cares about haarlep so much and can't deny him anything and is so obsessed with this person who hates him and is dependent on him, giving strong toxic hetero relationship vibes. raphael, u can't have a relationship with someone who u control baby that is just not how it works lil guy, are u too scared u are not good enough for someone who will choose u of their own free will, are u scared they will leave u babygirl

to conclude we know absolutely nothing about raphael's sexual preferences, we just know haarlep is (rightfully) angry at him and being a slave, and raphael has ego issues which like come one we already knew that from day 1

I’m completely with you anon. The only thing I would like to comment on (and this is just my own interpretation) is the fact that Raphael can’t deny Haarlep anything. I don’t think that’s out of any fondness, I completely think its through Haarlep’s magic…which…just kind of makes it worse since Haarlep is there to spy on him for Mephistopheles. You saw how hard it was for Tav to deny him use of their body and mind. I’d imagine it works the same way with Raph, even though he’s a cambion. In my mind, the whole dynamic between Haarlep and Raph is fucked and Raphael is just trying to make the most out of a bad situation (I wrote a whole post on it a little while back, but it is of course just my own interpretation). Which just makes it even WORSE that Tav behaves the way they do about the whole thing. Like damn. I’d be mad as hell too.

I might write a standalone post on the weird discourse on Raphael’s sex-life at some point because it does somewhat fascinate me. Everyone is entitled to their own interpretation of any work, and that is something I hold sacred. What bothers me sometimes is the way that people talk about it. For example, the problematic way of portraying tops/bottoms and the shaming part that you also talked about in this ask.  

What bothers me even more is when people feel the need to drag that interpretation into fan-spaces to reduce the character to just those aspects as a “gotcha”. I don’t know if that is just me, but if there’s characters that I don’t like, I don’t even use their tags. I’ve written a couple of hate posts on the Emperor. They might show up under the tag just because Tumblr’s algorithm is weird, but I’ve never tagged them with the character’s name, just in case there are fans who use the tag and find that annoying.

Anyway…Thank you so much for the ask! I completely agree with you.

[tattlestarbeepbop]

I'm tired of this fandom being so small that everyone that makes content for it basically knows each other, sooo...

A la Randy Feltface's skit about Hemmingway, I bring you...

THE BACKSTORY OF: JANE WHITMAN

(In the span of however fast or slow you may read this.)

[Just a heads up, spoilers for Date Time ahead.]

GO!

Born in the year of, or at the very least some year before 1974, (Inferred by the newspaper we find in one of the first rooms of what we can only assume is her headspace and the fact that she has a teacher named Mrs. Afee in this year) Jane had an eventful childhood, such as her father basically abandoning her and her mother, leading to a childhood that Randy would call uneventful, but I know led to a majority of Jane's life being the way it is.

Mrs. Afee was concerned for her health because she usually just drew all day, never interacting with the other kids (Oh, hey, it's me!) She was also not that cooperative with her mother, which... granted, most kids aren't. There's also a cat plush that you can squish, but I can either say "This must've been Jane's comfort plush!" or I can just admit I don't know why it's there and move on.

In 1975 (Inferred by another newspaper) Jane was asked to draw something else by her teacher... and the result wasn't very pretty. Either way, it was in this year that Jane caught wind of Silicon Valley, a place in California known for it's technological whimsy!... which her mom thought was a financial fad. I want to see the look on her face when she finds out she was DEAD WRONG!

Jane liked watching TV, and one show she watched had a little sock puppet man named Klippy. He told her that she was loved and cared for and that somebody else out there in the world was the same way, which is true! Klippy also told Jane to never give up! And ya know what her momma said?!

"Don't listen to the TV, Jane. It'll rot your brain."

Everybody say it with me: FUCK YOU, JANE'S MOM!

...okay, I shouldn't give her too much shit, she was struggling with rent because her husband fucked off to Valhalla. (probably)

Anyway, next room/part of Jane's life! No year this time, but we can assume she's older. Now she's some quiet gal trying to get a job for the summer at a restaurant, but those guys rejected her. She got shoved into a locker by some bitchass named Jackie, some Mrs. Sophie woman (probably another teacher) tells her to give up on art and focus on getting her life together (and gave her only two options: Work force or housewife), and Jane's mother forces Jane to get into a prom dress that even Anna thinks is dreadful AND DATE SOME A-HOLE!

Literally. If my theory about the next room is right, her date is literally just called 'A-hole.'

Anyway, we have another year on a magazine! 1980! Woo-hoo! Anyway, this guy takes the time to share weird facts like "Did you know we only use 10% of our brains?" WHICH IS FUCKIN' BULLSHIT. He also claims to be a lawyer and that a limousine can still turn if tilted at a certain angle- actually, wait- no he didn't He told her it's not true after saying it! WHAT THE FU-

He says he's a fan of 'Art of War,' an ancient Chinese military treatise by Sun Tzu and that he'll pay for the meal if Jane gives him another date, to which she rightfully declines. Good on you, Jane. You deserve better. Anyway, she's scratched out her drawings because nobody supported her art career and her mom, despite being the partial cause of Jane's dismay was like "You used to draw all the time! What happened?"

Again, say it with me: FUCK YOU, JANE'S MOM!

Jane also tried to get a job working for a "John Avast," who, like basically everyone else in her life, rejected her. And then, finally, after so many years of heartbreak and depression... Jane met Melissa, a character from a dating game that's been there since the start of the series. She's also self-aware and will someday grow tired of the fruitless cycle of dates and smooches and cafes with only three choices on the player's side, including a SCRUMPTIOUS PANINI.

Anna's tired of Melissa in general and slices that memory to bits right in front of Jane. Yikes.

Anyway, Jane loved Melissa so much that upon actually getting her arm held by Melissa's pixelated figure as she begged to be with her, that she couldn't help but say yes and immediately start to gather the supplies for a break-in to the library, which her mother catches her in the act and SENDS HER TO A MENTAL INSTITUTION CALLED ST. PALO AFTER GETTING A NEW ROOMMATE.

ONE MORE TIME: FUCK YOU, JANE'S MOM!

In the next room, we meet the biggest bastard to ever bastard in Jane's life (other than Anna,) and his name is Dr.Kaperski. Real piece of work this one. Jane's restricted while she sits down and is basically forced to tell Dr.Kaperski what happened at the library, and when she's done, she rightfully tries to attack him, but a nurse forces her to take the medicine prescribed to her and possibly gain a fear of needles as a result if she didn't have one already.

And that's where the flashbacks end... but wait. There's more.

At the age of 24, Jane is let go, courtesy of the Data Time company, because SHE GOT HIRED AFTER SO FUCKIN' LONG, LET'S GOOOOO! She gets a copy of Anna and as we check her emails, we see an email from her mom. Again, I'd love to see the look on that woman's face when she thought semi-conductors were a financial fad! Sorry isn't going to cut it for scarring your kid for life!

Anyway, Anna takes Jane's wheel after taking her down memory lane, they shuffle on over to the library and confuse the fuck out of Melissa, but then when she's about to make her move and give the Anna-possessed Jane a big ol' smooch, she whips out a device that sends Melissa right back into the computer with one last moment of clarity that this ain't Jane, and with that, the (probably first ever) copy-protected Melissa diskette is born.

Jane ain't having it.

She fights with all of her might against big bad Anna and manages to tuck the diskette away in it's character's favorite book, Pride and Prejudice. Speaking of which, HOW, pray-tell, has nobody found that thing yet?! There's a demand in romantic books, so surely someone would've found it by now! (Not a knock against the game, just a joke.)

Anyway, Jane rushes out of the library before Martha (the librarian) or Anna (the bitch) can get her to show the diskette to them, and ends up running out of breath in the middle of the street before a fuckin' semi shows up AND SPLATTERS HER BODY ALL OVER THE STREET!

WHAT A GAL!

How I knew her age?

I found it on a funeral thing that I couldn't tell you about until you knew she died.

[manorpunk]

(part 2)

The Bible, the Vedas, the Daodejing - the universal truth towards which all these works grasp is neither god nor heaven, but rather, the state-structure. Humanity makes states the same way that ants make hills and bees make hives: unthinkingly, instinctively, irrepressibly. Family, culture, community - all of these are the different cells of the state-structure replicating themselves in our every experience. Let go of sentiment, become subsumed in the world around you, and you too will see the veins of the state-structure.

- Excerpt from Authoritarianism is Good when I Do It, by Maria von Zuckerberg-Lorraine

“Thank you! Xiexie! Multajn Dankojn! Thank you to all my voters and subscribers for your support, mwah!”

Sunny blew a kiss to the unfathomable audience watching her morning updates and affirmations from the other side of a screen.

“This is so exciting, and I couldn’t have done it without you. To celebrate, there’s a 25% off sale for the entire - that’s right, the entire merch store, and we’ve added three new body pillow designs to commemorate the occasion! If you’ve ever wanted to snuggle up close with your new president, now’s your chance. Okay, I have to go now, lots of presidential business to attend to, but don’t get up to trouble while I’m gone, mmkay? Love you! Byeeee!”

The live feed ended. Three thousand miles away, in a Bay Area penthouse apartment, Maria von Zuckerberg-Lorraine regarded what she had just seen. She turned to her bot-ler, a squat old model that she had nicknamed ‘Torgo.’

“Your gin, madam,” Torgo said through a speaker that crackled with age, carrying a bottle of gin and a chilled glass on the flat top of its frame.

“Thank you, Torgo.” Maria poured herself a drink and took a sip. “Can you believe it? Her first act as president is shilling her body pillows to lonely teenagers. I ought to hate it, but it’s so… American.” Maria tossed her hair back and took another sip.

Maria was tall, a hair over six feet, and broad in the shoulders and hips. She was a celebrated member of the Worshipful Order of Posters (more commonly referred to as the Poster’s Union), and the author of numerous lengthy treatises, including Good Things are Bad Actually, I am the Only Smart Person on This Bitch of an Earth, and of course her evergreen bestseller Authoritarianism is Good when I Do It. She was a controversial figure within the posting scene - her detractors claimed that her works are overly self-serving and her popularity is largely due to her evil milf aesthetics, while her supporters referred to her as ‘mommy.’

“Hello, Maria!” Sunny said.

“Hello, Sunny,” Maria replied. She started to take another sip of gin, then froze. There was Sunny, looming on her display screen where she had not been looming just a moment before.

“Fuck! How did you - I didn’t even hear you call,” Maria said, fumbling with her glass as she tried not to spill anything.

“So, funny story, I got access to the presidential broadcast system this morning. Gabe - he’s my tech guy - Gabe took a look at it. Turns out, the code hasn’t been updated in a while, so he was able to find an exploit that lets me force-start a call with anyone in the American League! Isn’t that cool?” Sunny grinned, clasping her hands and tilting back and forth with excitement. Colorful little hearts floated around her.

“So what you’re saying is that you hacked me.”

“No, no, no, I just accessed your connection without your knowledge or consent.”

“Literally that’s… never mind. Not like privacy law means anything nowadays,” Maria hid her frown behind another sip.

“Are you drinking?” Sunny asked.

Maria set her glass back on top of Torgo and laid back in her chair, as if pushed over a heavy existential weight. “The Global Logistics Network has automated away half the jobs in existence and gamified the other half. Aivrcade’s VR worlds are more popular than every other video game and most hard drugs combined. The whole world is turning into one big Skinner box. Why aren’t you drinking?”

“Because it’s like nine thirty in the morning. Listen, I was thinking about offering you a job, but you’re being kind of a bummer right now and it’s making me reconsider.”

Maria sat up. “A job? What job?”

“Oh, you know, Secretary of Education.”

Maria blinked. “As in, your Secretary of Education? As in, you’re offering me an executive cabinet position?”

Sunny nodded. “Why so surprised? You’re smart, you’re popular, and you’re an established name in the Poster’s Union. Sounds like a good candidate to me. That is, until I saw you being surly and drinking alone.”

“Wait. I…”

“Yes?” Sunny leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands.

"So you... hmm." Maria crossed her arms. She knew what Sunny wanted her to say, but her soul could tell that she was getting ready to sell it, and it wasn’t going to leave without a fight.

“Alright," she finally said, "how, may I ask, could I be less of a bummer?”

“Funny you should ask, you just have to answer some questions I have prepared for such an occasion. Question one: did you vote for me?”

Maria drummed her fingers. “I voted for the ghost of John Brown, as I have done for every presidential election. But you were my second.”

“Good enough, I appreciate the honesty. Question two: praise me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Praise me. Min laŭdu. Shake it for the camera so I know how bad you really want it.”

Maria’s fingers clenched around her biceps. “That’s not a question.”

“You’re right, it’s an order. Now get praising,” Sunny said, her smile still warm and bright.

“Alright, alright, fine. You’re… the least likely candidate to start world war three. Marcus believed his own bullshit, but you strike me as a plain and simple grifter.”

Sunny put a finger to her chin and glanced up in an exaggerated pondering gesture. “Hmm. That doesn’t really feel like a compliment. You’ll have to do better.”

“You’re… dedicated, and charismatic.”

“More. Keep going.”

“And… bespoke. You wear the zeitgeist like a glove.”

“And I’m cute.”

“And you’re cute,” Maria sighed.

“That wasn't very convincing. Say it again.”

Maria bit back a scowl. “You are cute.”

“Yay! That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

“It was very hard and I feel dirty. Any more questions?"

“Nah, I'm satisfied now.”

“Then as long as I’ve got your attention, I have some new policy suggestions,” Maria brushed off the dirty feelings as snatched up her tabule, opened a document, and began reading aloud. “One: no more World War 2 movies.”

“That can wait until - sorry, what?”

“It’s been over a century!" Maria threw her hands up in exasperation, “It's time to move on, we drained that well dry, we should make movies about something else already. Two: if you’re talking about America you can’t cite de Tocqueville anymore. Same principal applies here, it’s overdone, please just read anyone else.”

“Ahem. You can just send me the list. I’ll be going soon, I have plenty of other people I need to call today,” Sunny said.

“Oh? Who’s the next person you’re going to ambush with a high-ranking job?”

“Oh, you know…” Sunny flashed a defensive smile, “JMR, to be my Secretary of Defense.”

Maria’s face went icy. “JMR? As in Jacob Martin Rider? That tiresome creep will be in charge of our defense? That manor-lord? That dracula?” Maria spat.

Sunny rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Maria. You can’t call him a dracula just because he’s gay and ostentatious.”

“The man wears jodhpurs, Sunny. He’s like a white Yukio Mishima.”

Sunny sighed. “I know he’s… like that, but I’m not exactly spoiled for choice here. Stopping Imperial Quebec was probably the only good thing America’s done this century, and when people think about the Quebec Wars, they think about JMR. I can’t afford to pass up that kind of reputation. And for the record, he’s half-Norteño.”

Maria scoffed. “Norteños are white now, it was in this year’s patch notes.”

[woodswolf]

🌿🏜️🔪🪲?

writer's truth or dare ask game

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

honestly? just don't be afraid to step away. sometimes you're not in the right headspace for a project and that's okay. work with your brain, not against it - whether that's on a different WIP or just taking a break for a while. sometimes this means the WIP sits for a little while. sometimes this means you abandon it. roll with the punches, don't dodge into them.

like for example, i've been having One Of The Weeks Of My Life at my job recently and just feeling really burned out and depressed on the Major Fucking Crunch Time this project is getting into. i didn't feel like working on chapter 5 when i was feeling that terrible, but i was able to channel some of that energy into a side story. i've barely started it as of yet, but it's got a lot of potential, has required a lot of research, and just. it's helped burn off a lot of the negative emotion (because it involves a very similar kind of negative emotion and focuses on a kind of burnout recovery. lol)

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

long analysis comments are like the #1 kind of comment to get in my good books. i get an excuse to talk about Fun Details whether intentional or not and just generally feed information to someone who isn't fully aware of all of the complexities of a project yet (usually my partner lol)

however.

i personally consider that the highest honor i could ever receive would be recursive fanfiction. fanart as well, yes, but fanfiction in particular. it's more or less a reflection of my own process in a way; i write a lot of recursive fanfiction relative to my output, but i only write recursive fanfiction about fanfiction that really, really resonated with me, or that often were incredibly formative to me in their own specific ways. it's not enough for it to be a good story - it has to change something about me, alter my perspective or open my eyes to an entirely new world. often these end up feeling like (or just being) treatises on a particular subject; there are fics on hope, on grief, on forgetting, on becoming monsters. and it's just.... it's powerful.

i could link all of these if anyone is curious.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

honestly all of the research i've done for DLD and other fics in the DLDCM (Dogs Leading Dogs Cinematic Multiverse) qualifies as really weird. outside of the semi-standard fanfiction-writer fare (e.g. symptoms of various injuries, or how to identify certain types of injuries like with that shoulder test), there are two broad categories of "what the fuck" research that i've gone into very extensively.

the first category, which i keep coming back to over and over, is all of the speculative biology shit. basically NONE of it is going to come up until more than halfway through catch/cradle at minimum, but at this point ive probably put close to ten hours of research into figuring out what the fuck is wrong with these things. (and that's just the research, not the processing that shit afterward.) i know what this guy breathes. i don't know exactly how his metabolism works, but i do have a general outline that seems approximately sound, and have a general principle for how it interacts with other metabolisms. i don't just know HIS metabolism by the way, i know like three other components' metabolic interactions and life cycles and to some extent their histories. and then we get into all of the other lore shit that is Very Present and Very Real and Very Probably Isn't Going To Be Written Down In Any Fics and also isn't strictly research based as much as vibes based but it doesn't have to be research based because my source is i made it the fuck up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but tl;dr there's a CRAZY amount of various kinds of biology lore and 90% of it is never going to see the light of day most likely

the second category which has generally come about more recently is primitive / historical technology. generally just a lot of how you would do certain things - such as making paper, or refining clay, or working metal or glass - if you were starting from (almost) nothing.

additional shoutout to when i did some brief research on akkadian for one of my recurive fic projects, that was fun but really overwhelming and i ended up not finishing it myself lol

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

from chapter 5:

The ship doesn’t need any additional explanation. “I’ll set the course,” it says. Brief and to the point. He can’t help but appreciate that right now. The controls shift ever-so-slightly under his hands as they start following a slightly different autopilot route. It’ll set them up for the approach path they discovered on the second day — one that doesn’t cut through as many of the giant trees.

thanks for the ask!! :D

[lgbtlunaverse]

wip tag game

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

tagged by @woobifiedvillain @frodo-of-the-nine-fingers and @tavina-writes

... ALL of them?

i mean i guess i could just forcus on ones i've recenly worked on but that's BORING let's brave the depths! Also, you guys have a wip folder? I have 3 folders organized for different fandoms that countain maybe 30% of my actual wips, the rest I just rawdog in the "recently opened" page of google drive. a good number of these don't even HAVE titles

WELL.

OKAY.

SURE.

honorable mention to my very much finished and NOT wip fic "red string wrapped aorund your throat" which has never actually been titled that in docs. the document is titled "package deal but in a bad way" which sums up nieyao quite nicely.

in no particular order: here are the actual wips. i'll number the ones with no title to differentiate them.

-

In another life

untitled document (number 1)

krknhn au

togachako spidergirl au

triple cultivation au

untitles document (number 2)

the cyberpunk au & where else to go <- (i'm grouping these together becuase they're the same fic just different documents.)

3zun reverse au domestic tidbit

untitled document (number 3)

polycule from hell

there's an engagement ring in my apartment right now

nie parents prelude

chapter 3 warped rail fic

untitled document (number 4) & togachako timeskip au exerpt <- (these are just the same fic again)

an unauthorised fan treatise on the nature of the relationship betweem jin guangyao and lan xichen

character motivations and analyses chapter 3 warped rail fic

warped rail fic layout (outline) <- i'm not sure if the previous 2 count as wips because they're like. supplementary documents?? but just to show you how much chapter 3 fucking haunts me. this isn't even the last doc specifically pertaining to that chapter.

patho fic clara

short story fuyumi

untitles document (number 5)

Siren au

an interesting team (kurodai)

ushiiwaoi royalty au

iwaoi fantasy au <- this one's just a prequel to the previous one. and also finished?? has been for 2 years? maybe i should post it

born with everything snippets

loveless in grace

ushiiwaoi childhood friends au

bnha fic ideas

what would you trade the pain for & nielan side tangent <- (same fic)

untitled document (number 6)

untitled document (number 7)

helpless (kiyoyachi) perspective

ushioi college fic (chapter 3)

the secret behind these doors

ushiiwaoi soulmate

born with everything snippets <- (look it's warped rail fic again i'm not even gonna bother to group these)

dabitwice prequel fic & dabihawkstwice fantasy au

our flag means death fic

deltarune au

arcane fic

family doesn't end in blood

ushisaku single parent au

living up to the name

fuyumi pov extra (chapter 3) <- (IT'S MY NEMESIS AGAIN)

kenhina valentine's day

atsukage wip

ushisakuatsu thread

MA chapter 8 & the nakano meiko arc <- (these are both from montem ascendes. every single Ma chapter has its own doc i am not listing the posted ones)

all seijoh and stz captains are gay, it's the law

wlw bang kiyoyui au

songxuexiao pathologic au

-

HONORABLE MENTIONS PART 2: COMPLETELY 100% EMPTY DOCUMENTS THAT HAD TITLES THAT WERE CLEARLY FIC TITLES BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE:

maybe all first loves are like this

i'll wait for you,

-

So in doing this i've found out that A SIGNIFCANT number of my unpublished haikyuu wips do not in fact contain themselves in my google drive folder but on the notes app. On my old phone. That doesn't work anymore. :) If you wanna ask about any of these, feel free to do so while I let myself be consumed by the void.

I am NOT tagging as many people as I have wips. absolutely not. have you seen that list? i'm not sure I even have 51 writer mutuals. i'm tagging 5 people: @layzeal @clementinecoastline @transhawks @jecook @aphrodaisyacs

[neep-neep-neep]

Auden had mentioned that Somaya's baby was expected that night. And that she would likely be called to help, and that if Frey did not see her in the morning when she came in to run her fingertip over the spines of the books like she was waking them, it meant the woman was yet in labor.

But Frey did find her. She was collecting plates and bowls from the table and stopped in her tracks, breath freezing in her chest. Auden was in her bed.

Frey had never seen Auden asleep while the sun was up. The woman had collapsed into the sheets after a night of midwifery.

"Fuck," Frey said under her breath. She went into stealth mode, setting the dishes down in the basin with stressed precision.

I was wondering how long it would take you to notice, quipped the stupid demon bracelet.

"You should have said something, asshole!" Frey hissed.

Wait, why was she talking? Auden was in the room! She turned and saw the woman shift beneath the coverlet, and her heart sank. She fucked everything up.

Minding the sound of the door, Frey slipped back into the library, and exhaled.

The peasant girl seems a light sleeper.

"Shut up," Frey walked over to a shelf, spying a sunset-colored tome she had left the night before. "Somaya's baby is healthy, or she wouldn't be here. It's a good sign."

It's a revolting spectacle.

"Oh fuck off. What does a stupid cuff know about the miracle of birth?"

You forget that I was present for yours?

Yes, Frey had forgotten. It also underscored how the demon had caused her, and so many others', suffering. She needed to find a way to torture him without harming her own skin, fast.

She hefted the book in the arm Cuff was marked on, and leafed through the pages with her left hand. It was a treatise on Visorian research.

"Maybe," Frey said, "Auden'll have one of her own someday."

And she won't care about you anymore? teased Cuff with venom. Like--what was it--that 'foster mother' you mentioned?

Frey ignored him, resting her knuckles against her cheek. "A little one that looks like her, a chubby healthy baby, and she'll let me pick them up and spin 'em around..."

The door creaked open and Frey's breath caught in her chest again. It was Auden, in her slip, rubbing one eye.

"Frey?'

"Fuck, I didn't mean to wake you up--

"Who are you speaking to?"

Frey had the feeling of one of those dreams where you realize there's no floor and start falling.

Magnificent, said Cuff.

"I--s-shit. Um. I. No," Frey inhaled and let the air out through her nostrils, turning to the woman. "I owe it to you not to lie. This...demon guy?" she tapped her right forearm. "Yeah he speaks to me in my mind."

Because that sounded normal.

Auden blinking at her, Cuff completely silent for once, and her mouth suddenly feeling dry.

"So no one else can hear him but he's kind of been talking to me the whole time, and it's annoying as shit."

Auden was looking at the gold markings that snaked around her wrist now.

Amazing, Cuff said, how you would jeopardize even a relationship you care for this much.

Frey shook him briefly but vigorously, and Auden brushed some errant strands from her face and looked up at Frey. "This must have been what drove the Tantas mad."

Frey's face was on fire. "G-Go back to sleep. You've had a long night."

"Susurrus speaking to you unbidden, Frey...I couldn't imagine the sacrifice..."

Tell her I help you. Tell her I've saved your life countless times.

"He's just an asshole," Frey said with a nervous laugh. "This gold prick can't drive me anywhere I haven't been already."

"You would say that," a smile appeared on Auden's lips.

"Seriously!" Frey took a couple of steps forward. "I've had worse internal monologues than him since I was like nine!"

This is meant to reassure the girl?

Auden failed to suppress a yawn. "You were--ah--experiencing things you never told any of us. We'll discuss it after I rest, Frey?"

"Sure."

Auden's hand raised, reaching out, and Frey lifted hers for Auden to grasp. She knew Auden would again express worry over her cold fingers, even just in the lines between her brows. Auden ran her thumb over Frey's knuckles and then let go, and let the door close again. Only once she'd left the room did Frey realize her heart was hammering.

Cuff said, You were saying she would let you hold her infant for you to then apply centrifugal force?

[chiakinanami82]

An Encounter With the Insane

       Jessica sat with a red drink in front of her. Her fingers drummed the black metal table, its surface a tangle of vines. Fog rolled across the floor, people cutting through it to move. Chandeliers decorated the sky while gray stones made up the floor. Whiffs of strawberries oozed out of her beverage.       Her back straightened as she recognized the guy she met on a dating app. His eyes glowed red and his hair drew in all color as he approached her. A suit adorned his body, red lines weaving all throughout the void. A glass eye stared at her from his neck.       "Good evening." He bowed to her.       Her lips reached up as she stood, and with one hand lifting her massive dress, and curtsied. "Good evening to you, sir Richard." He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.        "The pleasure's all mine." Using the arm in his grasp, he pulled her close to him, wrapping his other limb over her back. His solid chest introduced itself to her face. A cravat tickled the top of her head. "My, my, I didn't know that you were so... taken with me." A slight warmth filled her head, and the scent of his perfume aroused her nose hairs. His perfume held notes of lavender, sunflower oil, and a hint of mango. His nose touched the top of her head, and she heard him take in her scent. "The scent of knowledge envelopes you, my pretty." His arms released her, and she walked back to her chair. He watched her with hawk's eyes.      He leaned over her, getting so close that she could smell the mint on his breath. Her body automatically grabbed the table as his hand caressed her face. "You're such a sight, my dear fortune."     Chills ran down Jessica's spine. Her eyes darted to and fro. Her breath quickened. Nobody was coming.      "Don't tremble like that, ma peche, or you'll make me feel like a peche." A finger traced Jessica's spine, touching the ridges of her corset as well. If her heart was still alive, it would've been beating so much.     Her knee connected with its target, and a yell escaped from the man's mouth. She twisted out of his grasp and jumped on the table.

        A moan sprung from his mouth. "Hahahaha! I didn't know that you were a treatise of love, my lovely vision."      "Who the fuck are you?!" Jessica attempted a kick, but Dick dodged with ease.        "I am who I am. Besides, who are any of us? We're just slabs of meat on a floating rock living in a universe that doesn't care. Feelings are simply hormones, humans are inherently evil, and God is dead. Whether in a suit or a loincloth, people are ignorant little thorns cutting into each other repeatedly, over and over!" Eyebrows raised as his laughter echoed throughout the building, interrupting the music. "Ohohoho, I have a captive audience now!" He flourished his arms in an extravagant manner. "Perfection!"         While the attention preoccupied him, Jessica landed on the floor and started running, but he grabbed her by the wrist. "Oh, my perfectly ripened sight, why do you keep trying? Don't you know? Everything's worthless. Melt into my arms. Become one with me!" A moment of silence permeated the air. "Oh? Your pulse... it's dead. Deader than a cat on Mondays! Hahahaha!" Richard twisted her arm. "Perhaps you're a... vampire. Imagine that, a vampire!" Pain flared up when a loud crunch pierced the air. Tears unveiled themselves, and her throat tore with how much she screamed.

       "Listen to that heavenly hymn, friends! That is the truest form of feeling alive!" He released her, and she crumbled to the floor.

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

Lover (Roy Kent X Reader)

WC: 5338

Warnings: Swearing, more Taylor Swift lyrics, the most tooth-rotting sweetness I have ever written

Summary: Y/N and Roy’s relationship, set to Taylor Swift’s ‘Lover’

A/N: Jesus this is a Doozy. There’s something about Taylor Swift songfics that make me go absolutely feral. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this because I’m quite proud of my little magnum opus.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January. And this is our place, we make the rules 

December 29th, 2020

“Hey babe, I thought you said we were taking down the lights today?” Roy said, looking at Y/N who was most certainly not in clothes that were suitable for climbing the house and taking down Christmas lights.

“Can’t be arsed. It’s freezing cold out there and I think the house looks way prettier with them up.” Y/N said defiantly, looking up at Roy from her mug of hot chocolate. Roy laughed, shaking his head as he put down the ladder he had pulled out of the cupboard for the job.

“You do raise some fucking excellent points, babe. It’s cold as fuck out there.” Roy said, reaching over the couch to press a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head.  She smiled, content with her little victory as Roy took off his shoes, making his way to the spot next to her on the couch.

“Why thank you, love. You know what?” Y/N said, taking a sip from her mug as Roy raised his eyebrows in suspense.

“I think we should leave the lights up ‘til January.” Y/N said firmly, putting her mug down on the coffee table next to her before turning to face Roy, anxious to hear his response.

“You want to keep our house covered in these bloody lights for longer than it’s socially acceptable to?” Roy said, his eyebrows still raised but in disbelief this time.

“Fuck yeah I do. Come on, babe, just think about it. This is our house, right? So, we can make our own rules about what’s socially acceptable. The Kent-Y/L/N treatise, if you will.” Y/N said, her sheer excitement and passion causing Roy’s stern face to melt into a smile.

“You’re really fucking serious about this whole thing, aren’t you?” He said, unsurprised by the eager nod he received from her. He sighed, leaning forward to capture her lips in a brief but loving kiss.

“Go get the good stationery, I think we need to draft up some laws.” Roy said, causing an excited laugh to come from Y/N.

“Rules, not laws, but I like the way you’re thinking. Give me a second, I’ll be right back.” Y/N kissed Roy once more before heading towards their study, a skip in her step Roy only rarely saw.

“Start brainstorming some rules, Kent!” Y/N shouted from the study, and Roy shook his head, laughing as he sunk back into the couch. He realised then that he’d never loved anyone more than Y/N, the velvet box sitting in his jacket pocket a physical reminder of that.

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear. Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years? 

15th April 2019

“Keeley for the love of God, where are you dragging me to tonight?” Y/N said, staring her friend down in the hopes that would dissuade her from whatever scheme she had planned.

“Jamie and the team are going out tonight and I want you to meet them! You’ve been my best friend for eternity and I think it’s time you met the Richmond boys.” Keeley said, turning on her puppy dog eyes as she looked at Y/N.

There was a pause before Y/N let out a reluctant sigh. “Where are we going?” Y/N said, cringing slightly at the squeal Keeley let out.

“Some club in the city, I don’t know exactly where but Jamie said he’s gonna send me the name. You’re gonna have such a good time tonight, I promise. Is that what you’re wearing?” Keeley said, taking a step back to look at Y/N’s outfit.

Y/N nodded, and Keeley tilted her head to the side, squinting at Y/N before abruptly moving to her wardrobe, flicking through the clothes she had on her hangers. “Try this. It should fit, and it will make you the fittest bitch there, I promise you.” Keeley said, shooing Y/N into her bathroom to change into the dress she’d chosen.

It was a slinky gold number that Keeley hadn’t worn in a long time, and as soon as Y/N emerged wearing it, Keeley’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

“Holy fucking shit, you look incredible! If I wasn’t with Jamie, I’d run away with you in a heartbeat, babes.” Keeley said, her excessive flattery causing Y/N’s face to flush.

Y/N went to reply, but the sound of Keeley’s phone buzzing cut her off. “Jamie’s just sent me the name, did you wanna call a cab now?” Keeley said and Y/N nodded, taking a glance at herself in the mirror. She did look fucking fit, Keeley wasn’t wrong there.

After having another drink and fixing up her makeup, Y/N was being ushered into a cab as Keeley gave the driver the address. The drive went by very quickly, one of the perks of Keeley’s close proximity to the city.

By the time they were in line to get into the club, Y/N could feel the pre-drinks beginning to hit her, and she was feeling pleasantly tipsy. The best state of being in her opinion. Tipsy beat drunk, sober and hungover any day of the week.

“Oi Keeley, there you are!” Y/N turned around at the sound of a man’s voice, and she realised it was Jamie. She’d never formally met Jamie, except that one time she caught him almost naked in Keeley’s kitchen. She tried to forget that ever happened.

“Hey babe!” Keeley said, kissing Jamie passionately, leaving Y/N feeling a little uncomfortable as she tried to look anywhere but at them.

“Who’s this?” Jamie asked bluntly, causing Keeley to whack his chest.

“Don’t be rude, Jamie. This is my friend, Y/N. Best friend, actually.” Keeley said, winking at Y/N as Jamie nodded.

“Hey.” Y/N said, waving slightly at Jamie, who returned the wave. He gave her a once over, his eyebrows furrowing suddenly.

“Is that Keeley’s dress?” He asked, and Y/N laughed softly, nodding her head. Jamie nodded curtly, turning his attention back to Keeley.

“Where’s the rest of the team?” Keeley asked, looking up at Jamie as he snaked an arm around her waist. Before Jamie could respond, there was a car that pulled up and out of it spilled a very large, very loud group of men that Y/N guessed was the rest of the Richmond team.

“Speak of the devils.” Jamie said, letting go of Keeley to go and great his teammates. Keeley smiled, turning to face Y/N with an eager look on her face.

“Well? What do you think?” Keeley asked, and Y/N shrugged her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest.

“He seems nice enough. Are the rest of them like him?” Y/N asked, and Keeley chuckled, pulling Y/N in for a quick side hug as the men approached them.

“Oi lads, this is Keeley’s mate Y/N. Please be nice.” Jamie yelled, Y/N giving them all a shy wave as she felt all their eyes on her.

Suddenly she was shaking hands with a bunch of footballers, trying desperately to remember their names and match them to the correct faces. By the time the last one came up to her she was nearly exhausted from all the introductions.

She looked up from the ground and suddenly she felt like all the air had been knocked from her lungs. The man standing in front of her was nothing like the other guys she’d introduced herself to this evening. He was your traditional tall, dark, and handsome, but he had an air of mystery that Y/N couldn’t get past.

“I’m Roy.” He said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. Y/N froze briefly before taking his hand in her own, inhaling at the feeling of it. 

She looked up at him, noticing how his pupils were blown ever so slightly. “I’m Y/N, it’s really good to meet you.” She said, her words speeding up slightly due to nerves. Roy’s lips quirked up slightly in the beginning of a smile, gently squeezing her hand before dropping it.

“Likewise.” He said, looking her up and down before moving over to stand with the group of footballers in the line. Y/N stood there dazed, not realising Keeley had crept up to her until she felt an arm around her shoulders.

“You ok there, babes? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Keeley said, making Y/N jump slightly.

“Tell me about Roy.” Y/N said, her comment earning a cheeky grin from Keeley, who squeezed her close excitedly.

“I knew you’d hit it off with someone tonight! Am I surprised it was Roy? A little, but I’m ecstatic nonetheless. Let’s get you laid, bitch.” Keeley said, and as much as Y/N loved her friend to death, all she could think about was Roy.

She glanced off towards him, briefly making eye contact with him. She knew she should’ve looked away, but the glint in his eye when she looked at him kept her entranced. She could barely believe she’d just met him, but some people just make a hell of an impact.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? 

May 22nd, 2020

“Is there anything else we need to discuss before we get on the bus? Oh my god, did y’all catch that incredible rhyme there? I promise it wasn’t on purpose.” Ted said, his own comments cracking him up as he looked out at the team, Beard and Nate at his side.

Roy cleared his throat, drawing all the team’s attention to him. “Y/N is coming with us to Liverpool.” He said, and the chaos this comment caused was unparalleled. 

“Settle down now! As exciting as the prospect of getting to spend some time with the one and only Y/N Y/L/N is, we are grown men.” Ted exclaimed, calming the crowd down slightly. He nodded, glancing over at Beard once they’d settled down.

Suddenly, the sound of a car door opening drew their attention, and the sound of a woman calling Roy’s name caused a few whistles from the team.

“Over here, babe.” Roy called out, scowling at his teammates that gave him childish looks.

Y/N made her way over, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as she walked up to Roy. “Hey guys!” Y/N said, waving at the team before tipping an invisible hat towards the trio of coaches standing near her.

“Mr Lasso, a pleasure as always.” Y/N said, Ted returning her hat tip before breaking out into a smile, pulling her into a brief hug.

“Miss Y/L/N, glad to hear you’re joining us in Liverpool.” Ted said, Y/N smiling at him once they broke apart.

“It’s about time I came away with you guys. The house is always far too quiet when Roy’s away, so I figured I’d switch things up a bit. Besides, I’d go anywhere with that grump of mine.” Y/N said, staring wistfully at Roy who was shoving Isaac gently, rolling his eyes at his teammate’s childish behaviour.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you two as a couple? I really mean it. You guys just work so well together, it’s crazy. I would definitely watch a rom-com about you two.” Ted said, his enthusiasm never failing to amuse Y/N.

“That’s high praise from the king of rom-communism. Thanks, Ted.” Y/N said, and the American simply nodded, a smile wide on his face.

“It’s my pleasure. Now, go get your man. I think he’s going mad dealing with the guys.” Ted said, shooing her away towards Roy. She shook her head as she walked away, saying a few hellos to some of the guys on her way to Roy.

“Hey babe.” Y/N said, waving at Roy as she walked up to him. He gave her a small smile, causing some shock from his teammates, before pulling her close to him and kissing her deeply.

The team roared and cheered, with some wolf whistling at the display, but all Y/N cared about was the feeling of Roy. His lips, his body, the feeling of his training jersey under her fingers. 

They broke apart, and Y/N buried her head in the crook of Roy’s neck as the sounds of the team’s cheers grew louder. “Everyone get on the fucking bus.” Roy yelled, wrapping an arm around Y/N and holding her tightly as the team slowly trailed on to the bus. 

Y/N laughed at Roy’s outburst, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before moving away from him to get her bags. When Y/N was out of earshot, Ted turned around to face Roy. 

“Not to give my two cents on an issue that has nothing to do with me, but you’ve landed one hell of a girl, Roy. Don’t let her get away, ok?” Ted said, surprised to see an expression other than anger on the captain’s face.

“You’re fucking right. I want her around forever, because I genuinely don’t know what I’d do without her.” Roy said, his vulnerability taking Ted by surprise.

“Well alright, glad we had this talk. I’ll see you on the bus.” Ted said, nodding at Roy before moving over to board the bus. Ted passed Y/N on his way over, smiling at her as she walked by him.

“You ready to go, babe?” Y/N said, gesturing towards the bus with her head. Roy nodded, slipping his hand into Y/N’s free one.

“Let’s go kick some Liverpool ass.”

And ah, take me out, and take me home. You're my, my, my, my, lover. 

July 28th, 2019

Roy liked his sleep. He treasured being able to sleep uninterrupted, and he assumed tonight would give him the deep sleep he loved so much. Unfortunately, his girlfriend had other ideas.

It was about one in the morning when Roy heard his phone start buzzing, the sound of his ringtone causing him to slowly wake up. He cursed under his breath as he picked up his phone, furrowing his brows when he saw Y/N’s name on the screen.

He picked up the call, taken aback by the loud noise coming from her end of the phone. “Babe? You alright?” Roy asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. He heard laughter from her end, recognising her laugh almost instantly.

“I’m great! Keeley and I went out, and we’re having so much fun!” Y/N said, Roy wincing slightly at the volume of her voice.

“That’s good. Not that I don’t enjoy talking to you, but why are you calling me? It’s one in the morning.” Roy said, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He could hear whispering, unsure if it was Y/N or Keeley.

“I may need you to come get me. Keeley needs to leave, and she lives so far away.” Y/N said, whining slightly towards the end of her sentence. Roy groaned, putting his phone on his nightstand, and turning it on speaker so he could get out of his pyjamas.

“Fine. Where are you?” He said, and Y/N cheered loudly. As much as he disliked the thought of driving into the city centre at one in the morning, hearing Y/N so happy almost made it worthwhile.

“Gay. We’re at Gay.” Y/N said, her directness causing Roy to laugh as he slipped on a shirt.

“I’ll see you soon, babe. Please stay safe.” He said, picking the phone up once he was fully dressed.

“I will. Thank you.” Y/N said, surprisingly genuine for a drunk person. Roy smiled to himself, hanging up the call. He grabbed his keys and made his way to the car. The drive was surprisingly quick due to the lack of general traffic, and when he pulled up at the front of G-A-Y he could see Y/N instantly.

She was wearing the same gold dress of Keeley’s she had on the night they first met, and he swore his heart sped up just looking at her. He rolled down the window, honking the horn to get her attention.

“Roy! Keeley, Roy’s here!” Y/N shouted, her whole face lighting up when she saw his car. He could see Keeley holding her up as they walked over to the car, Y/N holding her shoes in her hands.

“Thanks for coming, Roy. I didn’t want her cabbing it home alone.” Keeley said, clearly more sober than Y/N. Roy nodded, unlocking the doors so Y/N could get in the car.

“It’s not a problem. Thanks for keeping her safe, it means a lot.” Roy said, looking over at Y/N as she fumbled with her seatbelt, cursing under her breath when it didn’t click into place.

“Have a nice night, ok?” Keeley said, closing the passenger-side door once Y/N had her seatbelt on.

“Bye Keeley!” Y/N said, sounding almost like a toddler due to her drunkenness. Keeley chuckled, waving as Roy rolled up the window.

He drove away, sneaking glances over at Y/N as he drove. Although they hadn’t been together for very long, there was something in Roy telling him that she was the one for him.

“You’re so pretty.” Y/N mumbled, her frankness making Roy pause for a second. He’d never felt himself flush so quickly at such an innocent statement before, but Y/N had always been special.

“Thank you.” Roy said, trying very hard to keep his eyes on the road. Y/N hummed, nodding her head.

“You’re welcome. I really like reminding you how much I love you, you know?” Y/N said, and Roy froze. She loved him. Neither one of them had said they loved each other yet, and although this isn’t how he’d pictured it happening, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You love me?” Roy said, his voice soft as he gripped the wheel tightly. Y/N nodded, a giggle passing her lips.

“Yeah, of course I do. You’re my guy, my man, my lover if you will.” Y/N said, gesturing wildly as she spoke. As they pulled up into their driveway, Roy felt his heart warm at her words.

“I love you too, you muppet. Now, let’s get you to bed.”

We could let our friends crash in the living room. This is our place, we make the call. 

December 23rd, 2021

“Merry Christmas, please come in!” Y/N said, welcoming Sam and Dani into the living room.

“Thank you so much for having us, you have a beautiful home.” Sam said, smiling brightly at Y/N. Y/N waved it off, a smile of her own on her face.

“That’s very lovely of you, Sam. Thank you.” She said, before bringing both men into quick hugs. She chatted briefly with Dani, her limited knowledge of Spanish coming out, much to Dani’s joy.

“Where’s Roy?” Dani asked, Sam nodding in agreement. Y/N sighed, a small smile on her face.

“He was worried we didn’t have enough alcohol, so he ducked out to pick up some more drinks. He should be home soon. Make yourselves comfortable, please.” Y/N said, gesturing to the table as the men took a seat.

Slowly but surely the rest of the team showed up, some of their entrances more memorable than others.

“Hey Mrs Kent!” Keeley yelled, pulling Y/N into a tight hug on her arrival. Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing at her friend’s enthusiasm.

“We’ve been married for about six months now, why do you keep calling me that?” Y/N asked, breaking away from Keeley’s hug.

“It’s just got such a ring to it, I can’t help it. Sorry babes.” Keeley said, earning a laugh from Y/N.

“It’s all good Keels, don’t worry. You want a drink?” Y/N asked, smiling at the eager nod she got from her friend.

“Where’s Roy? You can’t have Christmas at the Kent’s without one of the Kent’s in question.” Keeley asked, taking a seat at the table next to Rebecca, who she greeted with a dramatic hug as always.

Y/N went to respond, but she suddenly heard the sound of Roy’s voice coming from the doorway. “Speak of the devil. I’ll be back in a sec.” Y/N said, quickly making her way to the front door.

“There she is. God, you look fucking stunning babe.” Roy said, dropping the bags he held so he could pull Y/N in for a passionate kiss.

She cupped her hands around Roy’s face, her heart skipping a beat when he dipped her. 

“You ready for one hell of a Christmas party, Mr Kent?” Y/N said once they’d pulled apart, her arm snaking around his waist.

“You fucking bet I am, Mrs Kent.” Roy said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. 

As expected, the party was a great success, and the amount of football players passed out in their living room was a testament to that. Y/N and Roy were in the kitchen, both of them holding a mug of tea.

“Well, I’d say our first Christmas party as a married couple was rather successful, don’t you say?” Y/N said, looking up at Roy, who nodded in agreement.

“They’re gonna be fucked tomorrow morning. I told you we needed more drinks, they went through it all so quickly.” Roy said, earning a laugh from Y/N.

“Speaking of drinks, do you reckon anyone noticed I wasn’t drinking tonight?” Y/N said, sipping from her tea as Roy came up beside her.

“I think everyone was far too fucked to notice. When are we planning on telling them, because keeping this secret is killing me.” Roy said, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her stomach.

“Soon, I promise. For now, let’s just deal with telling my family before we worry about the team, ok?” Y/N said, leaning into Roy’s embrace.

“Sounds good, babe. Merry Christmas, by the way.” Roy said, kissing the top of her head, his lips lingering longer than usual.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you. I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all.

June 9th, 2021

“You ready Phoebe?” Roy asked, looking down at his niece. As per usual, Phoebe’s mum was working, so Roy and Y/N had to take Phoebe to her school play. Y/N loved Phoebe so much, and the feeling was mutual. Sometimes Roy wondered if Phoebe loved Y/N more than him.

Phoebe nodded, looking up at Roy before glancing over at Y/N. “Is it bad that I’m feeling nervous?” Phoebe said, fiddling with the skirt of her costume.

Y/N looked over at Roy before crouching down so she was eye-level with Phoebe. “It’s not bad at all, Pheebs. If anything, the fact that you’re nervous shows that you care about your play, and that you want to do well. Uncle Roy used to get nervous all the time before games, so there’s nothing to feel bad about, ok?” Y/N said, looking at Phoebe with a loving glance. Phoebe nodded, rushing up to Y/N and hugging her tightly.

Y/N chuckled, returning the hug with as much intensity as Phoebe did. Roy would never tell anyone, but he nearly broke down crying watching them. His two favourite girls getting along never failed to move him. He couldn’t help but think about what an amazing mother Y/N would make some day.

“Ah, there you are Phoebe. Are you ready for the play?” Ms Bowen’s voice pulled Phoebe’s attention away from Y/N as she nodded.

“Excellent. I think it’s time to head backstage, ok?” Ms Bowen said, watching as Phoebe said her goodbyes and walked into the backstage area.

“How’s she been doing in rehearsals?” Roy asked, slipping his hand into Y/N’s.

“Fantastic as always. She’s a real stand-out.” Ms Bowen said, directing her attention solely to Roy. Y/N knew it was just because he asked the question, but she felt her stomach start to churn at the way Ms Bowen was looking at Roy.

“Course she fucking is.” Roy said proudly, getting a laugh out of Phoebe’s teacher. Y/N swallowed heavily, trying to be logical and not act like a crazy jealous person for no reason.

“Do you have any plans for after the play?” Ms Bowen asked, and before Roy could say anything Y/N butted in.

“We’re taking Phoebe out to a little celebration dinner, figured we’d treat her to something special.” Y/N said, Roy’s brow furrowing slightly at her bluntness.

“Right, well I hope you enjoy that.” Ms Bowen said, looking between Roy and Y/N before slowly moving away.

Y/N huffed, causing Roy to drop her hand and cross his hands over his chest. “What the fuck was that?” He asked, and Y/N looked up at him innocently.

“What was what?” She said, Roy staring at her with a look that made very clear he did not buy what she was attempting to sell.

“I mean, what was with the way you spoke to Phoebe’s teacher? It was a bit out of character for you, babe.” He said, and Y/N sighed, lowering her head in shame.

“I may have been a little jealous.” Y/N said, and Roy couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Y/N was never a jealous person. In fact, he couldn’t remember a single time in the two years they’d been together that Y/N had ever been jealous.

“I’m sorry, did you just say you were jealous?” Roy said, his voice taking on a slight teasing tone. Y/N groaned, quickly becoming embarrassed.

“Yes, ok? I was fucking jealous of Phoebe’s teacher, but she was looking at you like I look at you after you come home from a game, and I just got possessive. I’m sorry.” Y/N said, crossing her arms over her chest like an upset child. Roy sighed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around Y/N.

“I love you so fucking much, babe. You don’t ever have to be jealous of anyone, ok? I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, Y/L/N.” Roy said, rubbing Y/N’s back gently to try and calm her down.

“You’re the best Roy. I really lucked out with you, huh?”

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand, I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover. My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue. All's well that ends well to end up with you. Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover.

June 30th, 2021

Y/N still couldn’t quite believe that she was getting married today. Even while she was getting her hair and makeup done, her bridesmaids hyping her up, it all seemed unreal to her.

“Is this really happening?” She asked, mostly wondering to herself but also hoping one of the other people in the room heard her.

Rebecca chuckled, sitting down in the empty chair next to Y/N’s. “I remember when I was sitting where you are. I couldn’t believe I was getting married either. I mean after all the planning and tastings and arguing with vendors over the phone it felt weird for the day to finally come. But you have one thing that I didn’t have.” Rebecca said, reaching out to grab Y/N’s hand.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked, though she was fairly certain she knew what the answer would be.

“Someone waiting at the other end of that aisle that absolutely fucking adores you. Roy looks at you like you hung the stars, Y/N. He’d do anything for you and the fact that I know you love him like that too means you have nothing to be worried about. So chin up, and remember that you’re going to look so good you’ll make a grown man cry.” Rebecca said, squeezing Y/N’s hand gently. Y/N took in a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill after Rebecca’s kind words.

The rest of the getting ready process flew by, and before Y/N knew it she was standing outside the doors of the church arm in arm with Ted. Her father had passed before she met Roy and seeing as Ted was the world’s greatest father figure, she knew he was the one to walk her down the aisle. Ted cried when she asked him, and he was fighting back tears now.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Y/N.” Ted said when he saw her, holding out his arm for her to take. She took it, smiling at Ted as they waited for their cue to enter. Y/N took in a deep breath as the doors swung open, watching as everyone stood up when she took her first steps into the hall.

Y/N smiled at all her friends and family before turning her gaze to Roy, and the tears she’d been holding back all day finally started to spill. There he was, looking absolutely incredible in his black suit, and as they locked eyes his jaw dropped. His hands flew to cover his mouth, and Y/N could see the tears come down his cheeks.

She laughed softly, smiling as wide as she could at her fiancé. Ted was openly crying watching the interaction, and as he locked eyes with Beard, he could see the tears welling in his eyes as well.

Just before they reached the end of the aisle, Ted pulled Y/N into a crushing hug, trying not to ruin her hair or makeup. “I’m so proud of you both.” He muttered, giving Y/N a gentle squeeze before pulling away. He paused, before moving to give Roy an equally crushing hug.

This made everyone erupt with laughter, but they quickly settled down once the priest started talking. “You look so beautiful.” Roy whispered, his voice wavering a little. Y/N smiled brightly, wiping away a tear.

“Now, I believe you’ve written your own vows?” The priest said, and they both nodded. Roy reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper, while Y/N reached into her bra and pulled out a set of palm cards.

“Guess I’ll go first then. Roy, when I first met you, I was nervous and scared and I’m gonna be honest, a bit tipsy, but as soon as I saw you, I knew I was a goner. I’ve been through some awful relationships, and I felt like I was never going to get that fairy-tale romance everyone harps on about, but then you came along. You’ve seen me at my best, my worst, my over-dramatic, and everything in between, and yet you continue to love me despite all that. You’re the love of my life, Roy Kent, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life growing old and grumpy with you.” Y/N said, looking at Roy who was beaming at her, nothing but pure love in his eyes.

“Right. I’ve never been a man of many words, but you mean so fucking much to me that I wrote out a script and everything. I love you, Y/N, and although neither of us are perfect, I know that we make each other better. You’re the person I trust most, and I can’t wait to be able to call you my wife. My life has been a bit rough, but ending up with you has been the greatest gift I’ve ever received.” Roy said, not looking at his script once. Y/N’s face held nothing but joy, and they were barely listening when the priest got them to say their ‘I do’s.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The priest said, and the couple smiled brightly at each other.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Roy said, smirking at Y/N before pulling her into what was arguably the best kiss of their lives. The crowd erupted into cheers, the entire Richmond team standing up and yelling as loud as they could.

As the newlywed couple walked back down the aisle, the team burst out into a chant that made everyone speechless. “They’re here, they’re there, they’re every-fucking-where, the Kents, the Kents!”

Y/N and Roy burst out into laughter, having to stop in the middle of the aisle to recover.  Wiping tears of laughter away, they left the church, more than eager to start their new life together.

[redorich]

First of all I really love your Hermit Canyon au and have read throughathe posts multiple times. Secondly I think Tango deserves to open up a bedrock service to trap the unsuspecting dsmp members. And thirdly I'm a bit sad that this au is going to be coming to an end but it's been lovely to read.

There's a problem on the Dream SMP that needs to be addressed. None of them realize that canon lives are gone, because they don't lose them often enough to notice. The Hermits wrack their brains trying to come up with a solution, some way to prove it.

Grian suggests a death game, like Demise. The idea is immediately vetoed. They're trying not to traumatize these people further, thank you. Joe suggests a treatise on the fleeting nature of life and how embracing it in order to reject humanity and become primatial will allow one to achieve a higher state of being which can then be conflated with the concept of immortal life. Just as Joe is really hyping himself up, getting ready to write and mass-distribute a pamphlet like Thomas Paine's Common Sense, Cleo bluntly informs him that that's too many words. Next option.

Some ideas are thrown around of Hermits killing each other in fun games to show the other players that a little bit of death is harmless, a fun treat.

Meanwhile, Scar, who forgot to show up to the meeting, is up on the surface wandering around as he surveys the land for a good spot to put a megabase. This would be much easier with an elytra; however, when he asked Xisuma why they can't go to the end here Scar was bombarded with a slew of confusing admin words. He's sure Xisuma will explain later.

There's a little shop down the road that Scar hasn't seen before. He's certain that it has Hermit written all over it-- not literally, of course, but the structure, size, and blocks used make it obvious. There's a group of native Dream SMP players huddled around the entrance, which grabs his attention.

"Well hello there," he says, channelling his inner Obi Wan Kenobi as he always does when he says that.

The other players, who he recognizes as Foolish, Tubbo, and Ranboo, whisper among themselves and immediately straighten up when he addresses them. It's as though they're attempting to say with their body language, Hello! No shenanigans here, nope, none at all.

"Hello," Foolish says. "Would you happen to know who built this store?"

Scar makes a considering noise in the back of his throat, pacing around the side of the build and back as he tries to guess. "Definitely a Hermit," he says. "and probably one of the redstoners. This doesn't look like Mumbo-- or Etho for that matter... Maybe Doc, or possibly Tango or Impulse? That would be my guess."

The nervous-looking ender-boy (Ranboo, Scar believes) leans down to Tubbo's height to whisper in his ear. Tubbo nods, waits a second, nods again, and Ranboo stands back up.

"Are they trustworthy?" Tubbo says.

Scar's brows draw together slightly at the question, wondering what the group is getting at. "What do you mean?"

"Jack went in that shop half an hour ago, and he still hasn't come out yet," Foolish says plainly.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Scar says with a relaxed smile, opening the door. "I'll go check on him, see? There's nothing dangero--"

The others watch as a piston triggers and Scar immediately plummets into a hole far below. The piston fires again and covers up the scene of the crime as though nothing ever happened. Tubbo snorts a laugh, and Ranboo and Foolish look at each other over Tubbo's head.

------------

Jack bashes his forehead against the bedrock in front of him like he has been doing for the past half-hour. He's absolutely stuck, and the only way out is death.

All of the sudden, another man's voice comes screaming toward the bottom of the hole, and before he knows it the piston has activated and two people are stuck in this bedrock box.

"Hello there," the other man says. "My name's Scar."

"Jack. It's a pleasure. I don't suppose you have any ender pearls?"

Scar considers. "No, but you can punch me to death and I can come back with some."

What? Hello??? Is this man not worried about canon death??? Jack expresses this to the man in vulgar detail, and though the man winces at the language he seems otherwise unperturbed. With a sigh, Jack acquiesces and punches the man to death. Scar apparently had full saturation when he fell into the hole, so it takes quite a while.

Scar explodes into a shower of items and Jack can't help but feel a little bad for killing him, even if it's what he wanted... Until he sees one of the man's items. A trap door. Quickly, he uses it to escape, scooping up all of Scar's items and climbing a tower of scaffolding to the surface. Up top, he's greeted by Foolish, Tubbo, Ranboo, and a red-faced and huffing Scar who must have run the entire way back all the way from the canyon.

"Oh, how did you get out?" Scar says curiously.

"You had trapdoors on you, you dumb shit!"

"Huh. I forgot about those. Aw man, my levels!"

Jack sputters in his anger. "Wh-- Do you-- How are you not bothered by this?! What if that was a canon life?!"

Ranboo watches the conversation go back and forth like a tennis match.

A look of realization comes across Scar's face. "That's right," he says, "I forgot you Dream SMP guys have that whole thing about dying-- Xisuma fixed that."

Everyone goes dead silent. Finally, Jack utters, "...Huh?"

"Yeah, no, dying isn't permanent anymore," Scar says.

Jack, who literally crawled his way out of Hell at one point in time, knows with a sinking feeling in his soul that Scar is telling the truth. Fuck the Hermits, he thinks. What the fuck.

[thesinisterseventh]

A Treatise on Why Shockwave is My Favorite TFA Character

I am utterly FASCINATED with the concept of this character and I was not able to properly explain why until I went on this five-minute tangent to my wife, so I will attempt to encapsulate it for all of you.

Imagine, if you will, that you are a seasoned veteran with many sets of unique skills. You are trained in espionage. You are a size shifter. You can look like someone else, if you want to. You are level-headed and rational. In fact, by all accounts, you should probably be second-in-command of your organization instead of the fuckhead running around and attaching time bombs to your leader!

Now, imagine that the rational, wise leader you love very much tells you to shrink to the size of a toddler and sends you to kindergarten, where you must infiltrate the masses and somehow become the school secretary.

Now, you are a senior citizen in kindergarten. You have to pretend to be very excited when someone asks you what your favorite animal is. You have to smile REAL big when little Jimmy asks if you wanna see the frogs he’s hiding in his overalls, even if you’d rather punt the kid over the fence.

BUT. You become very good at being a kid. You learn your way around the playground, and who to talk to. You learn very quickly who’s been stashing extra Flintstone gummies in their sticky little pockets and how to barter these for favor. You can bat your eyes around the teacher enough so they DON’T notice you dragging the corpse of the band director behind the schoolyard dumpster with your not-toddler strength.

AND YET. You have the intellect of someone many millions of years old, but you must still submit to the teachers. You’re the king of the playground now. You get to sit on the swings and nobody tell you to get off, but for WHAT? You still have to submit to naptime and snacks. And even worse, the principal? Is an ASSHOLE. And he might say a slur if you look at him wrong.

And, suddenly, your “mom” doesn’t come pick you up from school. And you’re stuck there. And you also have to pretend to be the dead band director now and hope someone doesn’t notice that you are most certainly not toddler-shaped. You have to work your way up to that asshole principal and leak information to your mom, but she’s not PICKING UP HER MOTHERFUCKING PHONE. She swerved into a fucking tree somewhere out in the sticks of the universe along with two guys you swear you met in kindergarten at SOME point. Nobody is telling you what to do. You have no orders. You are stuck behind enemy lines. You were four, now you’re twenty three and standing in for a band director rotting in a landfill somewhere, but you’re REALLY 85.

And then you’re stuck for FIFTY. YEARS.

That is DIVINE COMEDY.

[theunsleepinghimbo]

10, 28, and 56 for Nimbus :)

wow, two nimbus requests!!!! i love this. let's fucking go with my favorite charisma caster

10 - what inspired this character’s creation?

so. this character was expressly created for the purposes of a oneshot, i believe! my darling husband told me that he was going to exandria-unlimited my ass and i said okay! and made a fucked up little guy. for sources of inspiration, i very much wanted to play a bard and a good speaker, and i was very, very excited about my upcoming enrollment in philosophy classes and my love of The Good Place. i ended up created a character with a love for philosophy and a genuine passion for life, and he took shape as an insane person with a penchant for lightning.

28 - do they collect anything?

i think Dr. Nimbus collects a few things. first and foremost, he collects, if his students would let him, the final exams of the students that had shown the most improvement and blown him away in his philosophy classes. those final essays are most likely very well catalogued in his Sanctum and home. i think the second thing that he collects is historical books and the like, because as a professor and as a history/philosophy double major in undergrad, he amassed quite a collection of texts and treatises that he's still quite proud of. the third thing is crab crackers (those little things that you can use to get the carapace off a crab to eat the meat? is that what those are called?) from any seafood restaurant he goes to. he believes wholeheartedly that there is no reason not to do it and will not be swayed.

56 - who would they trust with their life, unequivocally?

i think that dr nimbus trusts most people with his life because he is willing to take a chance at all times. he's pretty much always trying to experience more of the world, and learning who he can and cannot trust is just as exciting for him as finding a new spell or creating a new drink. the only people he usually won't trust are those who are actively attempting to kill him. even then, he might be cool about it

[hotdemonsummer]

Obey Me! and the hierarchy of Demons

alternatively titled Levi Is Just A Big Fucking Snake

This long, long post is a general examination of NTT Solmare’s choices in developing the lore of Obey Me, namely the choices of which demons to turn into the brothers from a demonology perspective. I was going to include a lot more, but I hit 1k words and was like, a third done so I decided to split this thesis into multiple posts. Disclaimer: I am not a demonology expert, nor have I been a magic practioner in years. I am a guy with an otome hyperfixation first and a comparative theology enthusiast second.

To start off, I need to state the obvious: Obey Me is a Japanese video game, made by Japanese developers. For those who are unaware, Japan is a very fascinating case study in that it is one of five or six countries that were never colonized by Europe, and only one of two that are in the global north. As such, Japan has a wholly unique relationship with religion, particularly Christianity. Most of the population describe themselves as nonreligious, with Shintoism and Buddhism making up the largest practicing religions. Christianity, as it exists in broader Japanese society, is wholly cultural. There are of course Japanese Christians (and Japanese Jews and Japanese Muslims and so on), but they are in the significant minority. Christianity exists in secular, cultural forms: a purely commercial form of Christmas (and it is purely commercial, unlike what your manager at Target will say about American Christmas when he tries to make you wear elf ears) and a Christian-style wedding, both of which are imports from Western cultures.

Why am I talking about this? Aside from now having some more context for the sheer amount of chain-smoking gun-toting Catholic priests in anime, you might be realizing that you probably have a wider understanding of Abrahamic religion than you thought. Even those who grew up with a completely different religious background or no religious background at all would be exposed to the sheer weight of religious hegemony, especially through television. You are probably not this kid.

This is all to say that Solmare had to do their homework, and it turns out they did generally pretty well. More than that, they didn’t rip off the world of Obey Me just from history, and they actually made some changes (beyond the whole anime boy thing) that I think are really interesting.

(Also quick disclaimer: generally when talking about the real-world basis of these things I called it Christianity, but this isn’t exactly accurate. Christians certainly don’t have a monopoly on heaven or hell or angels or demons or Jesus, and as Judaism and Islam generally have a more in depth understanding of angelology. However, most surviving texts and research on demonology comes from medieval and pre-Renaissance Europe, and Solmare does seem to be taking the Christian route in most depictions.)

Initially, something was bugging me about Obey Me: the brothers. Lucifer and Satan were clear inclusions, as were Asmodeus and Beelzebub as well known demons. Mammon is a little less known as a figure, but a clear choice for an Avatar of Greed. Belphegor and the Leviathan, on the other hand, seemed like they were out of left field. Belphegor comes from the same Levantine religion as Beelzebub, but he definitely not a very well-known figure. The Leviathan is also in a completely different ballgame. Outside of Hobbesian philosophy, the Leviathan is a sea serpent of chaos. Not a pagan god (like Beelzebub and Belphegor), but just a big old sea snake. In the Book of Job, he shows up as just a big old snake (implied to be a minion of Satan, and not a demon proper). In the Midrash, he (or rather, she) is still just a big old sea snake. He is likely taken wholesale from the Canaanite Lotan, who was also just a big old sea snake. Just like Lotan, the Leviathan is a part of the shared Chaoskampf myth, like Jormungandr and Illuyanka and Vritra, which is to say he’s just a big old snake. I cannot stress enough of how much of a snake he is. 

There are plenty of well-known demons that just straight up don’t make an appearance in Obey Me (Belial, Ba’al, Moloch, Mulcifer, Buer, Amon, Abaddon,  Astaroth, Baphomet, Paimon, this is just off the top of my head), so why these two as main characters?

You can (probably) thank one guy for getting the ball rolling:

This old bastard is John Wycliffe, a 14th century priest and scholar and a RIDICULOUSLY controversial figure at the time. This isn’t the time or place for a lesson in Catholic history, but this guy was basically Martin Luther before Martin Luther. He is the likely author of a 1410 tract known as The Lanterne of Light, which was one of the first pieces of Christian academia to link the main sins with a particular demon. Contrary to “popular belief” and Wikipedia, no, the tract does not link each sin to each brother perfectly (the clearest link is between envy and Beelzebub, sorry, Belsabub, and notably Leviathan isn’t included in this list because he’s just a fucking snake). However, prior to this the sins and demons were unconnected, and the earlier Psellus classification of demons was ENTIRELY different. 

For the classification that Solmare clearly used, we have to jump forward to the late 16th century and talk about Peter Binsfield, who unfortunately does not have a surviving picture that I can easily mock. Anyone familiar with European witchcraft should definitely recognize his name. Binsfield was a German theologian whose 1589 book Treatise on Confessions by Evildoers and Witches was basically the leading instruction manual on how to torture people for witchcraft confessions. However, it also included a classification of demons and corresponding sins, one of the first to do so concisely since Wycliffe. While it is a very concise and simple classification, it is neither the most well-accepted or most popular (that would be Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis or King James’ Daemonologie, depending on who you ask). Binsfield’s classification goes as follows:

Lucifer (Pride)

Mammon (Greed)

Asmodeus (Lechery)

Leviathan (Envy)

Beelzebub (Gluttony)

Satan (Anger)

Belphegor (Sloth)

A few things to note here: Lilith is not included here (in certain classifications, she is equal to Lucifer), but it does include all the brothers. However, they are clearly out of order. I wasn’t able to find an actual copy on Binsfield’s Treatise, but the different secondhand sources I found all have varying orders and none of them are a match for Obey Me!’s order.

Why, then, is the order the way it is? Some things make sense from a narrative position but only if you dig deep enough. For example, Beel and Belphie being twins and therefore next to each other in the order makes sense if you know their shared roots in Moabite religion, because you won’t find any connection between the two written after the Iron Age. Satan being fourth-born is, I can only assume, a reference to tetraphobia (四 sounds the same as 死) but that’s just a guess. Levi and Asmo’s placement reasoning is a mystery to me.

Regardless, this is where the classification of “the seven princes of hell” comes from, and it is certainly not the only demonic classification out there! Like I said, Solmare clearly did their homework and thought about the brothers beyond just slapping the Wikipedia page onto a dev sheet and calling it a day (there are also other details, but I think those deserve a separate post)

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

57 and 10 for shoni ?

Rules: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

Forgotten First Meeting  & Airport/Travel AU 

so i've gotten a couple of anons bugging me about poet!toni so here is the beginning of an au i'm chewing around with. this is more actually an au of an au, as this won't actually be a scene in it, it was just me dicking around with the characters. Basically, shelby and toni play sisters in king lear and also toni's poetry is slowly driving shelby up a wall and has been since they first met in an airport and shelby robbed toni of her notebook but toni forgot she existed and shelby has hung onto the notebook ever since. The first poem is an original, the second is an excerpt from my girl adrienne rich. it's barely an airport au, anon i'm sorry, but suck my dick <3

It’s a little leather bound notebook, moleskin and only half full.

Toni Shalifoe!!

Don’t read!!!!!!

Email me here!!!! tshalifoe@zoobah.com

It’s something of a haiku, which is line with the first poem, also pretty intensely structured.

There is one apple left on the old apple tree

Fall

Winter

Spring

Summer

My golden color turns to brown

Bite by the squirrels chews me down

There is only a core

Left of me

On that old apple tree

But my seeds are planted

And I have left

A legacy

Shelby reads every single poem in there, disregarding the first entry begging her not to. The scrawl is childish but she thinks the girl must be old, middle school or something. She never shows her parents and she never emails to return the notebook.

It was in a Minnesota gate anyway, what was she gonna do, mail it?

The poems are odd, one is about climbing a mountain, another about the angel of death, a third about an apple tree. Shelby never quite gets them and she decides the writer doesn’t really either. Toni. Whoever she is.

She’s only a fourth grader and she’s not allowed to use a computer without parent permission anyway. So she doesn’t think about it.

Years pass.

King Lear is the worst Shakespeare play Woods could’ve chosen for the fall production. For one thing, it’s not a history like Richard is, so it won’t get cool and bloody. That wasn’t a problem for her but if they wanted guys to audition, blood and gore was necessary. It wasn’t a comedy like Twelfth Night nor was it famous like Midsummer, meaning audiences would be bored and ticket sales would go down. Again, not a problem for her but they were already operating a shoe string budget, ever since the football team got that new scoreboard.

Shelby wasn’t saying the football team didn’t deserve that scoreboard! Andrew might not have thrown a completed pass since the ninth grade but football was an important sport. They needed it.

The one thing that pissed Shelby off about King Lear was that it wasn’t a romance. Call her basic but she was a sucker for love stories. King Lear was just a tragedy about some king losing his throne. There was nothing interesting or important or applicable and she didn’t get how she was supposed to play Cordelia. Cordelia refused to say she loved her father, that was her whole thing. She was just a pretty girl who didn’t love her father.

“Shelby,” Woods said. “This is your sister, Goneril,”

Shelby looked up from the script to the antagonist, a short women with a furrowed brow. “Have we met?”

“I don’t think so,” Shelby held out her hand. “Shelby Goodkind. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Toni Shalifoe,” Toni Shalifoe said. She took Shelby’s hand and Shelby kept her expression clear, continuing to grin brightly at the girl’s who’s poems had haunted two years of her life. It had to be a different Toni. What were the chances?

“Toni here,” Woods clapped her shoulder, “Just moved from Minnesota.” Frick. “I thought maybe you could show her around.”

Shelby smiled wide. “I would love to.”

How did some random no one from nowhere become Goneril? One of the biggest parts in the show? That wasn’t fair to Cindy, who’d been auditioning every year! Probably because Toni was a senior or something, had to be it. Or maybe she’d been held back? Shelby had been so sure the writer was older than her.

“So,” Shelby said, once Woods walked away to harass the orchestra. “Do you like Texas?”

“Fuck no,” Toni said.

“It’s not that bad,” Shelby tried.

“Literally what’s to like?”

“Clearly you’ve never been to a dude ranch.”

Toni rolled her eyes. “Hard pass.”

“That wasn’t an invitation,” Shelby said.

“Thank god,” Toni said.

She sorted through her lines, brow furrowing again as she made notes and Shelby watched her, wondered if she was still brilliant. If she was the same age as Shelby, which she seemed to be, surely she still had to be writing right?

“At least we’re doing a decent play,” Toni said.

Shelby blinked at her. “You think King Lear is decent?”

“Duh,” Toni looked up. “It’s like—one of his best? C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t get it.”

“I guess I don’t get it,” Shelby said. “It’s just about some crazy king giving up his throne. Divine right to rule and like not democratic.”

“It’s about three daughters struggling to figure out what to do with their parent in his old age,” Toni said. “It’s about the sick and dying not being taken care of and being cheated by their kids.”

“Okay,” Shelby tried. “So?”

“So,” Toni said. “Eventually you’ll have to decide what to do with your parents. Whether to put them in a home or have them stay with you or whatever. They’re gonna get old and sick eventually.”

“I know that,” Shelby said.

“So why don’t you like King Lear?” Toni said. “Let me guess—you prefer Romeo and Juliet?”

“I’m a sucker for a good romance,” Shelby said. “Sue me.”

“Romeo and Juliet isn’t a romance, it’s a treatise on the importance of letting your kids be happy,” Toni said.

“What?”

“If Romeo’s parents had realized how deep heartbroken he was, or if Juliet’s parents realized she didn’t want to marry Paris, they both would’ve been and probably wouldn’t have fallen in love,” Toni said.

“Hold on,” Shelby said. “You’re saying the greatest love story ever told was actually teenage rebellion?”

“If that’s your greatest love story, I’m sorry for you,” Toni said.

Shelby got up and walked away.

Later, and she wasn’t proud of this, she realized Toni had left her bag behind. She knew it was Toni’s because she had to open it to find out who it was. And when she opened it she saw a little spiral notebook.

Property of: Toni Shalifoe

toni.shalifoe@gmail.com

Please email me if you find this.

There was no instruction not to read so…

I dreamed you were a poem,

I say, a poem I wanted to show to someone…

and I laugh and fall dreaming again

Of the desire to show you to everyone I love,

to move openly together

in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,

which carries the feathered grass a long way down the upbreathing air.

Shelby slammed the journal shut, shoved it in the backpack, and raced out of the auditorium. Hopefully, Toni would return for her own backpack.