#am also bringing my weed just in case as well

[milkweedman]

bringing two knitting projects and a spinning project to work today. just in case.

[shortcakesturns]

Am I making you feel sick?

A/N: eventual smut later in the fic, you are responsible for what you consume. Cannabilism however u spell it, P in v, asphyxiation, blood, unprotected sex! (DONT DO THIS), cream pie, daddy kink, pet names: baby, honey,sweetheart princess, pretty girl. Female reader, semi, public sex. prolly more. fluff, angst. IN THIS UNIVERSE LEE WILL NOT DIE. PERIOD. THATS IT.

REQUESTS OPEN!!! I write for a lot of people please check my pinned to see who I write for! (I also take requests of who to write for)

Summary: you meet a stranger that’s also a so called eater, eventually you fall in love with him and during a kill you wonder how good he could make you feel

“Don’t talk to strangers, or you might fall in love”

A dimly lit streetlight shines above me, I could smell him in the store. He left shortly after having a man chase him out. My eyes are drawn to the corner of the abandoned building where I know he lays above the man's bloodied body eating.

The skinny boy stands up and out of the window stumbling, blood dripping down his body and coming from his mouth.

“Whatcha looking at darlin?” he asked

“I could smell you in the store.” I blankly replied.

“Could you now? I could smell you too, another eater?” he tilts his head to the side.

I nod and look around. “So where you headed?” I inquire.

“Wherever the wind takes me, honey, what about you?” his smirk grew.

“Same.” I stay quiet observing the boy, from top to bottom. Curly red grown-out hair, shell necklace originally white covered in blood droplets, the res stain meeting his skinny frame, and suddenly his hips shift.

“You like what you see there? Well if you have nowhere to go either. Come with me.” he pointed to the blue truck and his feet began to move towards the driver's side. Before my mouth could say anything I felt myself following him. I open the door from the passenger's side and climb up into the seat. With a creak, the door shuts.

“I asked you a question doll” he turns to look me in my eyes, grabbing my chin to turn my face to look at him. “I said, you like what you see doll?” giving him yet another glance down his body. I nod slowly. He lets go and turns his eyes toward the wheel and road. “Thatta girl” With a jerk the car starts up and begins to move slowly.

“Where are we staying for the night?” I look at him curiously.

“Wherever this guy's house is” he nods.

“What's your name beautiful?” he follows up with.

“Y/n, you?” I meet his eyes yet again.

“Lee.”

————

The light gleams in, and my eyes start to flutter. I turn to the other side and Lee is dangerously close to me. Cramped up in a small twin-size bed. Without waking Lee I jolt up and get ready for the day, opening the man's fridge to see if anything good could be scavenged, eggs.

A crack and pop of the eggs cooking is the ambiance as I look around the house, the eerie feeling is lingering. The house smelt like weed and cigarettes. I go to turn a corner in the house and my waist is quickly pulled back and spun around.

“You probably don't wanna go in there, it smells the worst in there. It's just an old record and a TV, rotten food. He really was a low life. Well, good riddance..”

I chuckle and my head falls into Lee's chest. His arms wrap tighter around me. “I made eggs in case you hungry for not…people” I look up at his beautiful blue eyes and his perfect smile.

“I'm always hungry honey.” he makes his way to the kitchen grabbing the eggs out of the pan and bringing them to the table.

For some reason, meeting a nonscary eater has made me more comfortable, and makes me feel more connected to him.

“I feel like I can be myself around you.” I break the silence sitting down.

“Whys that?” he makes a confused face.

“You're just the only eater that I've met that isn't scary, kinda sweet actually.” I smile

“Well, that's just perfect honey, and kinda? I'm insulted.” Lee chuckled.

“You are sweet, are” I laugh.

—— two months later ——

Lee drives down the road after picking a man up at the carnival to eat for the night, Lee brings him into the cornfield and begins to touch him. It was odd seeing Lee like that. Talking someone through it, the farthest we had gone was just a quick make-out session.

The man's moans echo throughout the so-called empty cornfield. Does Lee make people feel that good? Before the man could finish Lee slit his throat and waves me over. “Were you watching darlin'?”

“Yeah, I was.” I kneel down to feed on the man, but then Lee’s eyes dart up to look at me. “Eat baby, come on” I began to feed on the man, but keeping my eyes on who I'm truly craving. Lee.

As we finish the man Lee stands up with his blouse unbuttoned and blood down his body. “Come on pretty girl, let's get out of here.” he motions for me to follow him. I quickly follow him. Once we're at the truck I keep my eyes on Lee.

“Need somethin’ sweetheart?” Lee smirks.

“You, Lee, need you.” Lee is taken aback by the sudden boldness but keeps his mischievous smirk plastered on his face.

“Go to the bed of the truck, and bend that ass over f’me mk? I'll get there in a second love”

I do as he says and pull down the wall to the truck bed plant my feet on the road and arch my back laying the front of my body on the cold truck bed. I look around the dark isolated road, with only us. Fog covering the cornfield. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lee walk over and feel his presence behind me.

“Mm that's a good girl, love seeing this ass bent over for daddy.” a harsh slap makes contact with my ass, my dress is slowly lifted up to reveal my wet pussy.

“No panties hm? You slut.” another slap is landed on my ass. I feel Lee get on his knees and lick a stripe down my cunt, he begins to attack my clit, the noise of him sucking on my clit could make me cum alone. Suddenly he adds a finger to my pussy stretching it out.

“Gotta stretch this pussy for my dick, yeah?” he mumbles into my pussy,

I cry as I feel a second finger added to my pussy, he continues to fuck my pussy with his fingers at a fast pace. His tongue lapped over my sweet spot, I started to build up this feeling in my stomach.

“Im gonna- fuck- Lee I'm gonna cum.” his pace quickens.

“Come on baby come f’me, come on my tongue.”

I feel my legs twitch and white covers Lee’s tongue but he doesn't stop.

“Gonna get your cum all over my face baby,” my legs twitch and my pussy becomes sensitive, and my legs began to shake more intensely. “Thats my good girl.”

Lee licks one last stripe and stands up, the pressure on his hips is sudden and firm. “You feel that princess, you feel how hard my dick is for you?” he groans out. “Yeah baby it's so big.” he jerks his hips, rubbing his clothed cock around my entrance. “That's all you have to say? Hmm okay, baby.”

His pants and underwear are yanked off in one swift motion, and his undergarments hang low against his ankles. The tip of his cock begins to rub against my pussy, from my clit to my entrance. “You want it inside baby.” he pulls back spitting in his cock and fondling it and rubbing the tip around my opening.

“Yes Lee, baby please need it so bad”

“So needy sweetheart.”

With one swift motion, Lee is inside me entirely. letting out a loud groan, he stays for one second letting my pussy adjust to the hasty stretch. “So tight baby.”

He begins to thrust deeply into my pussy, “Hmm baby, so wet and tight for me.” his cock hits my cervix over and over again. The sounds of slapping and moaning fill the once-quiet atmosphere. I glance behind me at Lee with his head thrown back encircled in blood, muttering incoherent words.

“Lee fuck its so big.”

“Yeah, this dick big enough for you? Who's fucking pussy is this?” he starts to thrust harder, “Your pussy baby.”

“Thats right pretty girl.” his thrusts slow down. “Thats fucking right” he grumbles.

A tug on my hair is felt and then a hand creeps up on my neck. “You want me to make you a mommy baby, fill up this pussy?” his thrusts are painfully slow and deep. “Yes baby please wanna be a mommy,” I beg and cry out when his thrusts speed up.

“Good girl, gonna make you the most perfect mom- oh fu- fuck gonna cum in this pussy baby.” hot cum spurts to my cervix and he lets go of my throat. “Good girl, don't let it drip out.” I stand up and he kisses my lips.

“We better get going hun, don't wanna get caught.” he steps away and walks to the front of the truck. I follow quickly behind.

We sit in silence and the car starts.

“Lee I love you.”

“I love you pretty girl.”

[sharkfoodstore]

the best "comic relief" character of all time forever without question she is great and you should love her thank you [spoilers for misericorde]

Every single Misericorde fan loves Darcy. She is one of unquestioned fan favourites, second probably only to Hedwig herself. I have never met a single person who has had a single negative thing to say about her, and I highly doubt they exist. But I've also noticed that among fans there's less serious discussion about her compared to the others, which I think is a bit of a shame cause I think she's also one of the best written characters, in a game with nothing but well written characters. And I just wanna ramble about this character for a bit cause she literally rewrote my personality for months after I played it and I just wanna talk about it.

Part 1: Getting to know Darcy

This is the line that introduces us to Darcy:

In context, after playing the whole game, this line is kind of patronizing and rude. But with literally prior interactions with her, we don't have the context to understand that, especially with the goofy music in this scene.

After this we get more dialogue where Eustace gets mad at Darcy for doing drugs before service. Again, we don't know Darcy OR Eustace yet. Replaying it, I get the sense that Eustace is moreso concerned about Darcy, given Eustace's other actions later in the story, but without knowing her yet it seems we have a pretty standard comedy duo. The silly one who gets them into situations, and the serious one who gets frustrated at the other's antics.

It's here where I need to talk about one of the major running trends in misericorde: first impressions. Misericorde cleverly draws on our knowledge of pre-existing tropes to get us to assume things about characters, only to subvert these later. This is the case for pretty much every character. Flora is just a rebellious kid, until she reveals that she's incredibly smart and is the first to figure out that something's up with Hedwig. Angela is mean for no reason, until she reminds us that someone in the Abbey has just been murdered so of course she's paranoid (though to be fair yeah she's also just mean lol). By calling on these tropes before subverting them, we're invited into Hedwig's shoes. Hedwig is an incredibly judgemental person, who easily assumes the worst in people and struggles to get over her initial impressions. And without realizing it, we're led to believe her impressions of people.

So, what is Darcy's first impression? Well, she's a stoner. She does drugs because she thinks its fun. She's a silly comic relief character. Now, if that was all she was, that wouldn't be bad, she'd be a pretty enjoyable character. In fact, I would say that her being somewhat of a stoner IS part of her character (if she was around today she would 100% love weed). But there's one more dimension to her drug use. But we don't learn more about that for a while.

Then we get to her next big scene, her vision.

First important thing to note about this scene is that it has some absolutely iconic Darcy dialogue.

I love her so much.

Second, this is where we start to learn more about Darcy. Most notably, her drug use is more than just for fun, it's to bring on visions. I am deliberately treating her visions as real here, and not calling them hallucinations brought on by whatever she's drinking for one important reason: Darcy 100% believes in her visions.

This is one of my favourite parts about her. Her spirituality is taken incredibly seriously by the VN. I'll get into this later, but man it is so nice to see a character like Darcy be taken seriously in this regard. I feel like in any other story a character like her who is strange and has visions would be played off like a joke. I can think of quite a few characters like that. But not Darcy. There's a scene later on where she's coaching Hedwig through interpreting what she saw in a vision and it's just great.

Firstly because Darcy is an absolute treasure, as per usual.

But secondly, because Darcy is suddenly put into this kind of sage role for Hedwig, guiding her through her spiritual experiences. Think about the first meeting with Darcy, where she was treated 100% as a joke. Now Hedwig, the character who spends literally the entire story lecturing other people about religion, has turned to Darcy for spiritual help.

Darcy throughout the story is slowly revealed to know more and more. And Hedwig begins to take her more and more seriously. From their first meeting, to Hedwig learning about her visions, to their conversation while on sheep herding duty, to here. This is almost presented like a twist, where Hedwig finds out that Darcy's knowledge complete outshines Hedwig in some areas she would previously consider herself the expert in. But, at the same time, Hedwig doesn't care too much. She's never like "I was shocked to see Darcy know so much about theology" except for one line about how authoritative she looks, because by this point Hedwig has gotten very close to Darcy, and has had a very slow arc of realizing that beneath the surface Darcy is brilliant and kind and a lovely person underneath a silly exterior. It's no wonder that Darcy is one of the few characters that Hedwig has nothing but praise for in her ending notes.

Honestly, Hedwig says it better than I could, right?

Darcy is actually rather unique from some of the other characters with secret sides Hedwig finds out about, because she doesn't hide who she is. Hedwig assumed the wrong thing about her, but that doesn't make sense, right? Because she never pretends to be less intelligent than she is. She's extremely open about all of this, she never hides any of what makes her such a wonderful character. So why did Hedwig, and by extension the audience, get the wrong idea about her? Well, it's pretty simple when you think about it. It's because

Part 2: Darcy has autism.

I'm not going to list out every autistic trait Darcy has. It's never named because they live in the middle ages, but her monotone speech (represented really creatively by a lack of capitalization and punctuation in her text), abnormal speech patterns, misunderstanding of social cues, irregular sleep schedules (she looks SO tired all the time), etc, are all pretty clear signs that she's autistic.

And this representation means a lot to me. Like, more than I can put into words. She isn't treated like a child, her autism doesn't make her magically better at things than other people, she isn't some kind of genius who nobody can understand, she's far from emotionless, has meaningful friendships with the people around her, has a girlfriend totally-just-a-close-friend who cares deeply about her, and is generally decently liked among the nuns instead of being a major burden to be around like some autistic characters are treated in media.

However, the VN also doesn't pretend her autism doesn't hurt her in some ways. Most notably, her relationships with the other nuns. They like her, but there's a concerning trend among them, where they don't seems to see all the stuff I talked about in part 1.

Remember this?

Katherine has known Darcy for years, and this is all she can say about her. She doesn't bring up that she's a talented gardener, sees visions, is the best cook in the abbey, or anything else. Darcy is just very special. Which, yeah, she IS very special and we love her so much but is that all Katherine really has to say? I said Darcy isn't treated like a child by the narrative, but at the same time, the nuns overlook her point of view on important matters. They use the bloody cloth she found as evidence, but don't seem to care much about her doubts about the story.

This even applies to Eustace, her closest friend who she 100% secretly dating. Eustace is overly protective of Darcy. This makes sense, Eustace has lost friends before and is terrified that she will lose them again, but with the autism reading in mind it isn't hard to see Eustace as perhaps going too far in sheltering Darcy.

So, obviously, this connected with me a lot. Darcy is someone whose surface level traits she cannot control lead to her being misjudged and looked down on, and I relate heavily in that regard. Our shared struggles with neurodivergence had me feeling a lot of empathy with her, but despite that, Darcy is also in a community that accepts her. Hedwig admires her, Eustace loves her, and people around her treat her differences as charming and just part of who she is rather than something to be fixed. And when I first read it that meant, and still means, more to me than I can express here. Darcy is an autistic woman who's autistic traits are never sidelined: there's never a scene where she gets so serious that she stops talking in her trademark Darcy mannerisms, despite still being allowed to take part in heavy scenes. It was so incredible reading about an autistic woman who had many of my own traits, and was just allowed to have them, and was loved and respected while carrying the traits I was expected to mask. She made me far more confident in carrying those traits, and helped me learn that if I find the right community I won't have to mask at all, just like her.

By the end she's someone Hedwig has grown to care deeply about. She's one of Hedwig's closest confidants, a distinction few characters in the story share. I think this is because of their shared experience. Hedwig is also someone who sees the world differently from other people, due to her sheltered upbringing. She's someone whose simple understanding of the world and morality is crushed under the weight of humanity's complexity. And as she learns, Darcy isn't someone who lacks complexity, but Darcy is someone who rarely feels the need to hide who she really is from Hedwig. Hedwig sees the depth within Darcy really quickly, and in turn, Darcy loves spending time with Hedwig. The deep unspoken connection and mutual respect is a treasure to read about, and was one of my favourite parts of reading volume 1.

Darcy is someone who I think many autistic people will see themselves in, I know for a fact that I did. She's such an absolute treasure to read about, is one of my all time favourite fictional characters, and I cannot WAIT to see her again in volume 2.

...please don't let her be the culprit please please please please : (

[swaps55]

Hi! Sorry if you have already answered this somewhere, I love reading about your writing process for Opus and was wondering if you would talk about how you pick and choose which missions to assign Sam and Kaidan, like Kaidan taking on the Project Overlord mission? Also, lol, will Sam ever have the misfortune of driving a Hammerhead and how much would he hate it?

Hahahahaha, Sam would hate the Hammerhead so much. I will probably spare him that displeasure, given how much else he has to deal with.

This is such an awesome question; thank you so much for asking it, and I am so sorry this answer is probably far more involved than you were looking for.

Stories like Cantata, Fugue, and Kaidan's portion of Mezzo necessitated missions that weren't main plot for the trilogy. But since the codex is so rich and there are so many side missions across the three games, I made it an unwritten rule that I wouldn't make up a mission from thin air if I could help it. Instead I'd pull something from canon and twist it into a new shape. That put less pressure on me to invent something from scratch, and it meant fun Easter eggs for the reader.

This has taken different shapes. In Cantata, the mission where Sam experiences a blood sugar crash in mid-combat was going to be heavy on action, which meant a fairly elaborate "combat chess board." Designing a visual setting is one of my big weaknesses as a writer, so I set it on Benning because I could then use the ME3MP map as a template to craft the rest of the mission around.

The underwater mission Sam does on Proteus is what it is because the codex states that combat diving is part of the N program. I thought that was cool, and while perusing planets in the codex, the description for Proteus included an underwater colony. "Great!" I said to myself. "What if I broke it?"

Virtually every place the Yang Gang visits in Cantata is pulled straight from canon, as well as what they find there. It's something I'm pretty proud of.

(The big exception is the thresher maw on Sharjilla, which is pure artistic liberty, but I am beyond delighted that people have played that mission expecting to find one because of Cantata. At one point I had planned a really great joke where Sam nukes the thresher maw from orbit out of pure spite, so when they come back to Sharjila in ME1 and Kaidan mentions threshers, someone could go, "wait, there's thresher maws down there?!" and Sam would growl under his breath, "not anymore." But I couldn't fit it into Cantata, lol.)

As for all the side missions I've woven in, they provide a neat opportunity to spread the love. They are Shepard's responsibility in the games because Shepard is the player character, so the entire world revolves around them. In fic, I don't have that constraint, so I am free to take missions that have some good narrative potential and give them to other characters.

Side quests like Bring Down the Sky don't offer much to the canon plot, but for Opus it provided an opportunity for some pretty sharp character development while also advancing my reimagined plans for ME3.

In the case of Overlord, I loved the complexity it would add to something like Horizon: if Kaidan got a first hand glimpse at the terrible things Cerberus does right before discovering Shepard on Horizon, suddenly his distrust and anger take on new meaning.

Kasumi became Kaidan's partner in crime because the cast of ME2 is so dense that I went looking for ways to weed down the cast without having to just leave people out or inflict mass casualties. Kasumi's skillset as a thief never made sense to me for something like the suicide mission, but Kasumi herself is a delight. And like Kaidan, she has experienced the death of a partner. They seemed like such a natural fit for each other, and Keiji's role as a double agent with the Alliance also worked narratively in my favor: I got to use him to answer questions like, "how the hell does Cerberus get their hands on the Normandy design docs?"

Fugue also incorporates a few ME2 side missions that, again, just dovetailed nicely into what I was trying to do. Superimposing Keiji over the Cerberus agent in N7: Lost Operative just worked well for what I wanted to do, and N7: Imminent Ship Crash gave me a good segue into it, while also giving me the chance to explore how Kara and Aslany dealt with the loss of the 'Yang.

So how I choose what missions I use comes down to what I need for the story. I have a vague idea of what I need to accomplish, then look for a side mission or DLC that can help me get there. The Hammerhead DLC missions are utterly terrible to play, but there is just enough of an interesting story to them that I was able to weave something useful to future Opus plans while also letting Kaidan grow into his role as a leader.

The DLC and side missions are really fun to work with, and one of my favorite parts of Opus, even if I almost went bald tearing my hear out over N7: Imminent Ship Crash. XD

[kebriones]

I get where you're going with this but they very much did have extreme stress back then. Usually about if they were going to have enough to eat

(summary of my ramblings at the bottom!) I apologise in advance for the essay, I might be in the wrong here, i'm not an anthropologist or a historian but I do have strong feelings about how all humans around me are stressed out of their damn minds to the point of being empty husks so here goes. i'm also posting this in case anyone has a different opinion/more knowledge. My grandmother was raised in the german occupation. Famously a period when people here starved to death. But it was mostly the people in Athens who did. My grandma didn't have proper food as a kid, but she ate weeds and slugs and fruit. And when the occupation ended, they were still dirt-poor, but there were legumes and chickens and bread to eat, even though our agriculture was obliterated by the war. I'm sure this differs from place to place, but for people in rural areas, living off of the land if they know how to grow a few crops is very much possible.

My parents are working all day at jobs that demand them to be mentally there at all times and behave a certain way, they often work during their free time at home, and they're still stressed about how to afford groceries and rent and bills, and they owe thousands to the bank. My great-grandmother had time to weave, take care of her garden and animals, go to church as much as she wanted, get a full night's sleep and have friends. She couldn't read or write but she didn't have debts to anyone nor any bills to pay (because that village got electricity only in the 80s). the pace of life and the amount of responsibilties we have to keep track of now is a constant source of stress that never ever stops. Not to mention the constant influx of information about everything, which we are not made to handle. I'm not saying it's a bad thing that we're always aware of what's going on in the entire world, I think it will bring about necessary social changes one way or another, but it has to get evened out and reduced at some point. There is always, constantly, many things to worry about. How many people have the luxury of letting their mind wander during their work hours? how many people have the luxury of saying, I am not feeling well today and it's raining, I'll just nibble on some bread and veggies and stay inside and not work? I absolutely wouldn't want to live back then because I do like running water and toothpaste and modern medicine and electricity, but specifically for the stress and anxiety, I believe we're at a very bad place right now.

This is why I mentioned other animals. They might struggle to find food and go hungry often in the wild, but if you put them in a limited space with constant interaction not on their own terms or crowded conditions or lack of peace and quiet or disrupt their natural day-to-day cycle they will 100% be miserable and die faster than they would in the wild, especially "smarter" animals.

TLDR: occasionally going hungry isn't the same as living your every day full of comparatively milder stress without breaks ever. our lives are way too full of responsibilities and keeping track of things now.

[kyluxtrashpit]

Hiya! I hope you're doing well. I made the Hottest Star Wars Man Poll, so when your posts about it were brought to my attention, I felt I should probably reach out.

The polls are just for fun. I make them with no agenda, and I run them with no agenda. I've received messages talking about bots before, but I never wanted to get into the weeds about it.

However, as the discussion about bots is bigger than I realized, I guess now is as good a time as any to speak about it:

My opinion is that the spikes in Hux votes are a mere side-effect of the poll being passed around the internet and bringing in new voters in droves. As your Anon mentioned, @tomatette's edits might's also pulled in waves of people who voted for Hux out of fidelity to her.

I'm fine with the campaigning. As long as the vote is ultimately achieved by a human clicking on the vote themselves, it's alright by me. Hell, I always reblog 'propaganda' I particularly like, and I even requested some Anakin propaganda when he was in his elimination round. It's all fun and games to me.

However.

If anyone is using bots, I'm asking nicely for them to please stop. I'm going to pull the 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed' card on anyone botting. The polls are all strictly unserious things, so I hope that nobody is taking them too seriously.

Hi there! Sorry the nonsense has reached you, honestly lmao. I just wanted to make a post cause I was upset about the possibility (and, as I've said, I don't have rock solid proof, just suspicions based on observations by myself and others, so like. If people don't agree with me, that's fine, it's all good - I just wanted to speak out in case it was happening like, as a kyluxer, I don't want people to think that if someone is botting, that's something we as a fandom are chill with). I honestly didn't expect it to get quite this much attention either but here we are. I also want to make it clear to both you and my followers that I don't put any blame of anything on you - you're just making fun polls and that's it, you're not responsible for what people do or what drama may arise

I do agree it's possible someone just got a bunch of people to vote within a small window of time, like anything is possible, always is. I just feel like some of the increases I saw, observations from others, and things I've heard are enough to warrant suspicion. If people do or do not agree that there's a reason to think it happened, that's their choice and I'm not going to insist that my word is law and they have to believe me. I don't have receipts, I was just expressing myself and I do appreciate amicable discussion even if my mind has not been changed as of yet

But yeah I agree, propaganda and making funny edits and posts - that's not at all what I was referring to in terms of 'cheating', but somewhere it seems that got mentioned in the discussion? (3 separate people have brought this up to me lmao, like thinking I'm accusing them but I am NOT and no one better be out there accusing them either without actual evidence beyond 'oh you posted about it' cause that's a shitty thing to do) and I also want to make it clear I am not against propaganda fun. That's all just part of it. If people are mad about that, that's their problem and they should use blacklist more liberally. And if people are saying I'm saying that, then those people are either lying or are at 'how dare you say we should piss on the poor' levels of reading comprehension lmao

But yeah, I'll post this publicly, but let me know if you want it taken down and I'll delete it - I appreciate you reaching out and I'm sorry you had to deal with this, that was definitely not my intent when I made the post. I just wanted the botting, if it is indeed happening (and if it's not, all the better, I am just not yet convinced it didn't happen), to stop

And lastly, because of some of the DMs I've received: if you, the person reading this (not you the asker), are sending hate or harassment to people based on my post, FUCKING STOP IT RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, you're no better than the bad actors I was initially referring to

[alexanderwales]

The Current WIP List

Inspired by this post by @a-memory-a-distant-echo, this is a list of ongoing works-in-progress, where "in progress" I will define as "I have added at least one sentence in the last year as an indicator of actual mental load being used". This does not include worldbuilding or planning documents, which spring up like weeds. I am also including the ones that I get paid for via Patreon or publication deals or whatever.

Thresholder is my currently ongoing web serial, publishing two chapters a week (in theory ...). It's about a guy who travels between worlds and fights other people who travel between worlds, with each world being a relatively contained book. Currently about 750K words.

Doomsday Pivot! is, in theory, the follow-up to Thresholder, about a start-up that has to make a sudden change in plans when the end of the world gives everyone a character class. First book is rough draft complete but needs some responses to developmental editing, sitting at 104K words. (You can read a noncanonical first chapter here, which I had previously made public on my discord.)

Millennial Scarlet is a webcomic I write about a gig-economy demon hunter. Writing comics is awesome, mostly because I get to see my words come to life. In word count ... I'm not sure right now, but probably not all that much. In the middle of writing the fourth issue right now.

Glimwarden was a web serial that I abandoned, a black mark on my record. I intend to go back to it at some point, because it was my wife's favorite. You can read it up to the point where it was abandoned here. There are currently ~3 unreleased chapters, but most of the effort put into it has been rewriting it and bringing it up to snuff, as well as fixing some problems with it. Will get a relaunch at some point, probably, when I'm ready to commit to that. No idea on the word count.

Untitled Dance Magic story is probably a short story, currently ~5K words. It's based around a magic system where people do ballroom dance to create architecture, and is a somewhat traditional romance and/or coming of age story. I started writing it on a whim after a conversation with @etirabys at LessOnline, and hopefully they haven't started their own story, and hopefully if they have, hopefully their story doesn't overlap mine. I'll check before posting, hoping to get this one finished and out there.

Kensuke Fucks the World is an existentialist horror erotic novel, which I describe as being "like the Erogamer, but sad". Currently 75K words, and might never see the light of day. I think I can wrap it up in another 25K words, but I think it needs a lot of work.

Long Stairs will probably be novella length in its finished form, and will probably not be finished. It's an old story, which predates Worth the Candle by a few months, and is about a military fireteam making a routine delve into an endless shifting dungeon that the US military has already pulled a lot of magic out of. Medics with clerical healing, wands and firearms, high fantasy and military. There's unfortunately some stuff in there that I cannibalized for WtC that needs to be changed so it's not a repeat, but nothing structural, and there are a lot of plot beats that I enjoy in both the 15K words that are already written and what's in the notes. I did not put a bunch of work into this one, but it was one of those cases where I was reading through old stuff and got enough of a head of steam that it latched onto me again. (I also don't know enough about the military or how to write that kind of stuff, which is one of the reasons that this fic never got my full attention.)

The Lot is a story that's basically just "the backrooms, but with cars". It think it was inspired by a tumblr post, but probably won't be finished, since it's probably novella length. Currently 9K words, more a character study than it is about people stuck in an infinite parking lot and scrounging off what they can find in glove compartments.

Kitchen Sink is a bureauporn/bureaupunk novel about the agency created to deal with the rise of mutants circa 1977. Currently a mere 9K words, but the plan was for each successive part of the book to focus on another genre being discovered by the department, so you'd get a book with wizards, with vampires, with aliens, etc., mostly with a focus on how these are handled on an administrative level. No way I would ever be able to sell it, unfortunately.

Robot Team Isekai (not its real title) is about a van full of kids on their way to a robotics team meet that get transported to another world where their individual specialties grant them awesome abilities in a "your hyperfixation makes you perfectly adapted to the fantasy world" kind of way, but for five people with different hyperfixations. 2K words, probably will never see the light of day.

Full Meta vol. 2 is a novel about a group of high school students who get metafiction powers, so like ... one girl gets the ability to read the text of the novel they're in whenever someone is engaging in exposition, one guy can read the flashbacks, someone can read all the romance scenes or whatever, and they have a dysfunctional time dealing with each other through college and into adulthood. I fully recognize that calling it "Full Meta vol. 2" when no first volume exists is a gimmick title and would be confusing enough to immediately turn people away.

Dark Wizard of Donkerk was an old NaNo novel, but got halfway dev edited before my dev editor on that one flaked. I think it's a good story, just a matter of getting into the guts of it and making it great, but that takes time. 173K words, but this is old old. If you like rough, unpolished creative output, you can read it on my website.

Untitled Hermione/Draco fanfic is, uh ... I guess according to the logs was something that I put effort into in late 2023. I have read vanishingly little HP fanfic, and I'm sure there's a ton of this stuff, and that some of it is even good. This one doesn't adhere too much to canon or fanon, and is mostly about trying to write a realistic racist who falls in love with someone he's racist against. 14K words, I cannot believe I added anything to this recently, but apparently I have.

Technically by the criteria set out, I should count all seven of the NaNo test chapters I wrote. Of those, the only ones that have retained any brain space are "The Inevitable Return of Nathaniel Greene" and "Dungeon Core".

There are a few more that are technically outside the arbitrary time limit of one year, but I'm going to include them because I have thought about them in the last year (and will not include the ones that I have not thought about).

Of Witches and Wizards is what I thought was a romance but was told does not fit the apparently pretty exacting mold of a "romance novel". It's about a widowed witch whose two sons have left for college and a wizard who travels the world writing about places for a travel guide. They fall in love. Tons of worldbuilding stuff as they visit different cities and see the breadth and beauty of magic in the world. 15K words right now, was going to be a nice and slender novel.

Eager Readers in Your Area was a short story I wrote a year and a half ago. The WIP is a novel-length version of that about ... art, artists, AI art, dealing with people online, and a bunch of other stuff. I wrote an outline I thought was quite good, but if the short story is the first chapter, then I want an equally good and tight second chapter, and that's hard to do.

Slaver Slayer (not final title) was about a slave who assassinates a high-ranking member of the kingdom and through an oversight gets a magical artifact that might possibly let her kill her way through the monarchy in an attempt to end the institution of slavery. The other protagonist is a detective who's grappling with his complicity in the system and is trying to stop her. Made it to 13K words. Another one of those that was outlined to be a nice tight novel.

[kurayami-no-ko]

Translation: Track 6: Personal Virture in Drama CD Picture Scroll of Winter-blooming sakura

Original name of the drama CD is 寒桜絵巻, and track 6 is 人徳.

Basic plot: People in the Shieikan plan to have a banquet for the winter-blooming sakura, and they need to procure the things necessary for the banquets (alcohol, food...). Track 6 focuses on Souji and Sannan's quest for some vegetables. There are two kids and their father appearing in the track, too.

Though, there are two kids in this track, I will just call them kid for short as I don't want to differentiate them. Also, I am not sure which kid is talking so I just add "kid" in front of every sentence either of the kids says.

I actually made an ass file for the audio...but can't figure out how to use it properly. Whoever interested can DM me for the ass file, I guess.

Track 6: Personal virture

Souji: Even though it is only winter-blooming sakura, it is still the beginning of sakura-blooming season. It is still winter, but spring is right around the corner, isn't it, Sannan-san?

Sannan: Yeah, as far I can see while watching the winter-blooming sakura, tomorrow, the sakura will undoubtedly bloom, we are sure to have our banquet. However, Nagakura-kun and the other two are quite troublesome, only thinking about drinking alcohol to welcome the New Year.

Souji: The banquet for everyone hasn't started yet. Moreover, no matter what you say, you are still looking forward to it a little, right, Sannan-san?

Sannan: Well, occasionally, it is important for us to relax but I feel that those three only ever think about relaxing.

Souji: So, Sannan-san, what should we be doing now? Kondou-san and another said they would find the alcohol, right?

Sannan: Yes…So, how about finding vegetables?

Souji: Vegetables?

Sannan: Yes. If it is vegetables, we can turn the extra vegetables into meals.

Souji: I feel that reason is a little bit serious. Then firstly, we can try to look around here.

Sannan: Let's do it. There are a lot of people around here with some troubles. Maybe we can help them with something in the fields in exchange for some vegetables.

Kid: Ah, Souji-san! Kid: Yeah, it is truly Souji!

Kid: Yeah, it is truly Souji!

Kid: Sannan-san is also here!

Sannan: Oh my, we got found out my the children, first.

Kid: Hey, hey, Souji, what are we going to play today?

Souji: Um, sorry but today, I am a little bit busy. I don't have time to play with you. Please, forgive me

Kid: Ahh, play with us, please.

Kid: Here, I will give you this.

Souji: Eh, dried persimmon? Thanks, it seems delicious. Can I really accept this?

Kid: Of course. You are my henchman, after all.

Souji: Thank you. But I am not really your henchman. By the way, do you have any dried persimmon for Sannan-san?

Kid: Eh, no but…

Sannan: I am fine. More importantly, the kids want to play with you so how about you playing with them? I can work on procuring ingredients for the side dishes.

Souji: I cannot let you do it all alone. Besides everyone else, Kondou-san is also waiting, so can Sannan-san play with them in place of me?

Sannan: I do it instead? Well, I taught them a little bit about how to read and write before so after we are done with our task, I can continue on with the lesson.

Kid: Eh, if that is the case, I would rather play with Souji.

Kid: It is so, so boring (I cannot catch on what is boring).

Souji: Haha, children are really quite honest, aren't they? Um, Sannan-san, your face has become quite tense, are you okay?

Sannan: Haha, I don't mind at all. Yes, I don't mind at all, more importantly, let's procure the side dishes.

Father: Hey, you brats! Instead of weeding the grass, you played instead?

Kid: Wah! Dad is here!

Kid: Let's run!

Kid: Let's run!

Father: Oops! Isn't that Sannan-san and his friend? Did you come here to give my children lessons?

Sannan: No, no, today, I have something else to do. Are you in the middle of working in the field? I see that you are sweating.

Souji: By the way, did you come here to bring back the kids?

Father: Yes, those naughty brats. While working in the field, they neglected their work and ran away. Oh, yes, Sannan-san. You came at just the right time, please take this.

Sannan: Potatoes, carrots, daikon, can I really accept all of this?

Father: This is to express my gratefulness for you teaching my kids how to read and write during this time. If that is okay, everyone in the dojo, please eat it! Bye then.

Souji: Wah, this is a lot. Hey, Sannan-san, this is more than enough to make side dishes, right?

Sannan: Yes, this is enough for our banquet, let's receive it gratefully.

Souji: Then, let us return to Shieikan. Ahh, I really couldn't do anything. In the end, I only got one dried persimmon.

Sannan: Haha, this is the difference between personal virtues. When I look at this amount, no matter how you think about it, it is a win on my side.

Souji: Hmm, Sannan-san, occasionally, is immature.

[yinwaryuri]

I've held off posting for a long time about the issue regarding Build and Poi.

A lot of things have rubbed me wrong about the way it went down, how the people involved handled it in the beginning, I am severely allergic to Twitter, and all in all, it's been so much to take in and digest over the past few weeks. I have no real understanding of law for any fucking country and I am not a source blog for news or updates or translations. Speaking in support of anyone, to me, seems perfectly inappropriate and useless. As much as I have my own personal thoughts and feelings, I'm aware of biases and that's no basis for an open conversation.

That, and well....I've been here before. I don't mean with the thing about the dug-up tweets that caused a riot a few months ago. I don't even mean controversial celebrity trials in general. I'm talking about people I personally knew very well being in a lawsuit where some hefty accusations were made and the community got split over their feelings about it. It's a fucking nightmare. I don't need to repeat those details because it was a different case and projecting any of those circumstances onto the one in question would be wrong.

So I'm only going to say this once.

Cut it out.

Stop being self-righteous. Stop taking extreme positions and cutting off friends whose thoughts and views vary. I don't care how convincing one side or the other is to you right now - we do not know the truth and there is a fairly long wait for us to have it laid out for us. If you look at those supporting the opposite side as you and don't think of yourself as also potentially supporting a guilty person, please take a moment to reflect. What is your goal by acting that way? To be right? To feel right? To "weed out the idiots"?

Curate your experience all you like, but cutting people off to such extremes is going to make for very small corners and very nasty echo chambers. This fandom looked itself in the mirror and got so ugly the mirror shattered and we're all just shards now. Little pods of pro-this, anti-that, unsure-something-or-other, etc. There's still so many unanswered questions, and evidence to be reviewed and cross-examined. Some of you will still choose to deny the outcome because it doesn't match the narrative in your head. But before you reach that level of desperation, I simply ask that you put your energy toward making and keeping this fandom a place where people can come for escape.

I won't judge you for being open about who you support here, if you have chosen a side. But attacking and othering people really doesn't make you the better person and you're not gonna get some kind of badge of honor for being woke. A lot of us are just people who come to fandom because it's what brings us joy in a world that is very fucked up, so coming into that space to start fires and burn bridges is really shitty. Making people feel uncomfortable to speak up because they might be attacked or cancelled for merely wanting a proper discussion is awful and I've seen enough.

For those of you who could really use a shoulder to lean on, my offer is here. I can't promise to be a perfect support, and if you're looking for some kind of mediator in an argument that won't be it. But I encourage anyone who needs to get their thoughts and feelings out to take that opportunity privately. Take a step back or a break if you feel like that's gonna help. If you're still unsure, do not hesitate to use any resource you can think of until something works. This has been hard on mental health for some people and it deserves to be acknowledged and given the attention necessary to help people recover.

I still love many people in the KinnPorsche fandom. I still love KinnPorsche. I would love things to heal, regardless of whatever comes out of this lawsuit. I would still love another season of the show if it were possible, for current and upcoming BOC projects to do well, and for the other actors and creators impacted to still enjoy happy lives and careers. I hope this post encourages thoughtfulness and honesty, and most of all, unity. If you've read this far, thanks for at least considering my input.

[anonymous-bastard]

ooooooo opinion on fruit trees that have free fruit in urban areas?

@underworlds-favourite

So this is a topic I don't really know a lot about so I kind of needed to extrapolate from what I do know. So I talk about the combination urban + green first.

That being said before you guys read my wall of text:

Depends on the tree and the area in question, I'd say.

In general I am supportive of the idea of growing more food and greenery in general in urban areas.

Rooftop gardens, urban gardening efforts, greenery on the side of building, I WANT IT ALL.

Urban gardening brings free food into communities and gardening is just straight up good for you. Time spent outside and caring for plants is good for your mental health.

Unsealing areas (removing pavement etc) allows for drainage of rainwater and often goes hand-i-hand with more greenery. (Keyword: sponge city)

IF DONE RIGHT, plants can also have a significant cooling effect, and give more shadow. Which is important in times of climate change.

And if you ever compare the look of a street with vs without trees - enormous difference. Just visually.

Now onto free fruit trees specifically:

Native trees are always better. Just in general, for everything. Wildlife, insects, they are all little racists that only like locals stuff /j. But seriously, local wildlife is adapted to local plants. If you are going for something better able to weather climate change, go for something from warmer regions from the same continent. It does make a difference!

Location is key here.

1: I'm not sure how much pollution, car exhaust, etc actually effect quality/ eatability of the product, someone who knows more about this than I do tell me.

2: Height is (possibly) another thing - if it is in a public place, where people are supposed to walk by and take food (as opposed to clearly connected to an apartment complex/ a set of apartment complexes), you really don't want for people to need to get a ladder. Berry bushes, raised garden beds with vegetables, etc are probably the better choice in this case, or just trees that grow fruit low. Just y'know. Keep things at people height.

3: Again especially for public places: (some) fruit trees are pretty "dirty". A lof of drooped fruit before it's ripe, or if it doesn't get harvested. And that turns gross and attracts wasps etc, and in a public place no one feels responsible for clean-up. But whether this os truly a problem is location dependent.

The last point can be mitigated by getting volunteers that take care of the project. A necessity in general in many cases - fruit trees are pretty easy once planted, but many vegetables you have to plant every year, weed, water, etc. But I feel with fruit trees especially one of the advantages is they don't need a lot of work and you can just put them there, so yeah.

In conclusion: If you want to start free food projects, whether as a grassroot effort from a local or if you are working for the municipality: look at your location. Think it through what kind of food would work best. Is the maintenance effort important, how much space do you have, what grows well under the local conditions, etc. And then do it! And despite all I've said don't let fear stop you. No plan survives first contact with the enemy, and you can adjust yours. It doesn't need to be perfect it just needs to work.

Also:

Fuck every politician and city planner ever that actively destroyed grassroot efforts for urban gardening and free food. I have nothing but contempt for you.

I would love to hear other peoples thoughts or experiences on the topic!

[chaotic-orphan]

Brain: we have some downtime, we should work on our WIPS

Me: *Does not look at all my other WIPs*… new idea just dropped

Brain: but our WIPs

Me: already working on new idea ahuh yeah, I know, this one first

Okay, just a disclaimer at the start of this. I am currently studying law, which is crazy because I have seen other Whump authors of note who also study law so guys I think we have a type and can be weeded out. Anyways, unimportant, but I want to do a whumpy legal series that will satisfy and combine my two loves.

Honestly knowing me, will it be a series or an orphaned WIP who knows! Anyways, enjoyyyy~

*~*~*~*~*

Lawyer was happy that Senior Partner of the Firm had given them this new case. To be fair, Partner was the one that recruited Lawyer to the firm to begin with, so it made sense that they would want Lawyer to do well. Partner would help them get the good cases, and Lawyer would win them to impress the members of the board.

This was just how it went in the legal ecosystem. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.

Lawyer had recruited Paralegal who had been making eyes at them ever since their hire to help them with the cases and over the time they spent together behind the scenes, they had become a good team.

Lawyer knew more law than Paralegal, and Paralegal helped to bring Lawyer back down to the real world when their brain worked overtime and went too far intellectually. Paralegal knew more about how the administrative process worked, telling Lawyer exactly what forms to file and by when, going back and forth with opposing counsels Paralegals and all in all, they were a good team.

Lawyer was feeling good about their career.

Until the first day in court of one particular case.

It was only going to be Lawyer, the judge and opposing counsel. Lawyer was a little less happy about impressing a smaller audience but it didn’t really matter that the hearing would be short and intimate.

It was simple matter, just a filing for another company’s books and business logs before entering into a business relationship.

Paralegal told them that this kind of thing was normal in the process, that most of what Lawyer had to learn was how things actually worked as opposed to how Lawyer thought they should work.

Lawyer told Paralegal that the two should be synonymous, which made Paralegal laugh and roll their eyes. It made a little light bloom in Lawyers chest and they had a certain pep in their step as they walked into the courthouse.

They met Judge outside, smiling and shaking their hand, and thanking them for their time in presiding over the hearing.

“You really are new, aren’t you?” Judge said, a derisive snort to their words even though their expression remained pleasant.

“Yes your Honour.”

“Partner’s new one, right? Lawyer?”

“Partner must speak highly of me. I’ve told them to stop singing my praises,” said Lawyer with a charming smile and even got Judge to laugh.

“One would hope, Lawyer,” Judge said. Very neutral and friendly and respectful, everything a judge should be. Just warm enough to be civil, just cold enough to not cross that professional boundary. Judge looked at their watch on their wrist, so Lawyer did as well.

It wasn’t anything flashy which momentarily stunned and short circuited Lawyer’s brain. It was simple, analog, with a worn and ragged strap hanging by a thread to keep it together.

Old.

Poor.

Not designer at all, and Lawyer acted like they didn’t see a thing. Just stored that information away for another time.

“Do you know opposing counsel?” Judge asked conversationally and Lawyer shook their head, the pair looking at the Courthouse’s steps.

“I’m afraid not. My Paralegal was helping me with their correspondence.”

Judge raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. Then their eyes crinkled and something about them looked homely for a minute, before they said: “they are the favourite in their firm, Lawyer. Maybe a couple years your senior. They won’t let the case go.”

Lawyer’s smile stayed on. “Your Honour that only makes me want to win more.”

Judge smiled, and inside Lawyer felt the same relief when they submitted an assignment or aced an exam. As if they had passed some test that Judge had left for them with their words.

Judge’s eyes caught something Lawyer didn’t and they smiled politely at the Courthouse’s door. “Ah, Rival. Punctual as ever.”

Lawyer’s blood ran cold but they fought to keep the smile on their face and remain unaffected and detached. Their heart gave them away. It was hammering against their ribs, threatening to crack them in two, kicking in Lawyer’s adrenaline for fight or flight as they followed Judge turning away from them to face their opposing Counsel.

“Please, Judge,” that cool voice said with it’s low lilting rumble. “That’s what watches are for. I am simply on time, I wasn’t aware of a party beforehand.”

Lawyer’s eyes went to Rival’s as he extended a hand to shake with Judge and greet them as politely and clinical as was usual in greetings.

Rival looked… annoyingly immaculate.

His face a portrait of sharp angles not even an artist could perfect, but an architect or an engineer in the sheer precision it would require. His hair was from a model’s catalogue, long, but not going past their shoulders and be bold. Just enough to be on trend and add a bit of fashion to the industry. The same with his stubble that lined his jaw evenly and gave him a more intimidating look.

When his green eyes settled on Lawyer it was with that same aggravatingly knowing look that he always knew more than Lawyer ever did. That he was always one step ahead In whatever he set his mind to, or against.

Lawyer was the one to offer their hand first, their charming smile still oozing confidence to any passer by walking past the large windows of the courthouse.

It would have been perfect.

If it wasn’t Rival who was looking into them, who seemed to know what Lawyer was thinking or saying or doing before Lawyer did.

Rival took Lawyers hand. The moment they made contact Lawyer wished they hadn’t. It was as if Rival was hooking Lawyer up to a battery and trying to jumpstart something inside them that threatened to become destructive and dangerous. Trying to draw out the fear of the past, but Lawyer, to their own amazement, withstood the handshake and the pleasantries.

“Lawyer, look at you. All grown up.”

“I’ve heard some interesting things about you recently, Rival, you’ve done well for yourself.”

Lawyer wasn’t about to mention that the recent part of the news was two minutes ago but that could stay between Lawyer and Judge. Rival would never have to know.

Rival smiled though it’s edges were sharper than their cheekbones and said, “we should catch up after this. Have a few drinks.”

It wasn’t an offer.

Lawyer learned that the hard way.

Lawyer just smiled and dropped Rival’s hand. “Speaking of, shall we?”

Judge nodded and turned to the doors behind them, big heavy wooden doors. Old. Mahogany if Lawyer would have to guess, but Lawyer would only notice something so benign when they were trying to distract themselves from the rich cologne of Rival’s aftershave that was threatening to overwhelm them with its subtlety.

Courtroom three.

Small.

Quaint.

Fit for purpose.

Exactly what Paralegal had explained and told Lawyer of when they were talking about the case after a long day of work. Over food. Lawyers idea.

“I’d say it’ll be courtroom three, but maybe the Judge will just do it in their quarters, although… that’s not very official. Or usual.”

“Courtroom three then. Is it nice?”

Paralegal paused, chopsticks hovering loosely above their box of chow mein. “It’s very… austere.”

Lawyer almost pouted. Almost.

They walked to their desk, Rival walked to theirs and then the Judge disappeared into the Judge’s quarters to get their robe and official documents or whatever judges did in their quarters.

Lawyer set their briefcase down on the chair beside them, unzipping it and taking out their own files and paperwork.

They glanced over at Rival to see that he was already staring at Lawyer, eyes as sharp as a hawk’s. Rival was standing, file on the table, prepared and ready to work, briefcase on the ground beside their feet.

Lawyer glanced back at their own briefcase which was less fancy and more flimsy, and had to stop themselves from fixing its position and copying Rival’s set up.

They remained in silence, except for the occasional noise from the judge’s quarters and Lawyer wanted so badly to break it. To say something. Anything. Just to not deal with this stupid tension filled anticipation of nothing.

The worst part wasn’t the silence, though, it was Rival’s silence which was its own breed of torture. Colder than the arctic winds and harsher than a Russian Winter. What made it worse was that Lawyer could feel Rival’s twisted enjoyment of Lawyer’s suffering, literally suffering in silence.

It wasn’t a moment too soon when Judge emerged from their room into the court. Lawyer felt a sudden reassurance flood them that they never felt around Rival. As if they knew that Rival couldn’t do anything now, here, with Judge in the room and observing them both.

The battle ground that stretched from Lawyer’s side of the court to Rival’s felt more even, and suddenly Lawyer remembered why they were here, and all the work that had gone into getting them here.

All the time they had spent with Paralegal.

With Judge in the room, Lawyer’s easy confidence came back and they were suddenly Lawyer again, the Lawyer Partner had trusted with this case. The one that had to impress the board members of the firm. The one that had to prove to Paralegal that their work together wasn’t worthless that Lawyer could still be useful.

“I will begin this Hearing thusly,” said Judge with their professional judge’s voice that oozed authority, very different from their polite and civil manner. As soon as the robes went on Judge seized to be a person and became apart of the Legal Process that Paralegal had told Lawyer so much about. “Apologies for the peculiarity of today, I am recording this session as the Courthouse’s stenographer is currently in the Caribbean on his honeymoon. To which, we wish a heartfelt and sincere congratulations, Dave.”

Lawyer and Rival blinked up at Judge who smiled lavishly at the pair, a devilish kind of indulgence. “Dave has to listen back and record these meetings when he gets home. Dave, please strike all this from the record. Lovely man. Ahem, anyways…”

“It is August 7th of the Gregorian calendar year of 2023. The matter of today’s hearing is merely one of disclosure and discovery. The claimant, Company, wishes to see the books of the Defendant before they wish to proceed with their intention to create a contractual relationship with Defendants company. Are we all agreed?”

“Yes your honour,” they echoed back.

Judge looked to Lawyer then and nodded. “Counsel for the Claimant will present their case first.”

“Yes, Your Honour. The matter is clear cut and simple. It is as you presented succinctly. My client, Company, simply wishes to know who they are going into business with before any hands are shook or deals are signed.”

Judge nodded. Their eyes went to Rival then. “And the defence? Do you have any objections to the motion for discovery?”

“Yes your Honour.”

Lawyer frowned. Judge frowned. Lawyer glanced over at Rival then back to Judge. Judge nodded, though Lawyer noted the short rise and fall of their chest, as if they let out a quiet sigh. “Proceed.”

“Thank you, your Honour,” said Rival, quite politely with a humble nod of deference that Lawyer would have laughed at if someone else had done it. “My client, Defendant Company, has and always intends to conduct business on the basis of trust. They are a reputable business and operate how they have always operated. It is family founded, built and led, and it is simply the current owners way of honouring his father, and his father’s father before him.”

“Tradition is the reason to deny discovery to a potential business partner?” Judge asked, the dispassionate tone matching his look of subtle disapproval.

“Yes your honour.”

“Your Honour, if I may,” Lawyer chimed in and Judge didn’t stop them so they proceeded. “The rules of knowing your business partner before entering into relations is how business has been done for generations—“

Lawyer said pointedly glancing at Rival as they said it. “With today’s climate of uncertainty, my client thinks it is prudent to be prepared rather than have to face a caveat emptor situation whereby—“

“Objection, your honour. Caveat emptor isn’t relevant here. The product is not from a third party, it is the business relationship as a whole that is on offer here.”

Judge looked a bit annoyed but they shot Lawyer a glance that could almost be apologetic. “Objection sustained, Lawyer please reword your statement.”

Lawyer didn’t bristle. They remained calm and cool. Professional. “Of course your honour. I didn’t mean to invoke the doctrine of Caveat Emptor, more the principles of it. That the buyer beware of the exact business they are entering into should the relationship turn sour.”

Judge raised their eyebrows and turned their head to Rival.

“As the opposing counsel presented your honour, in today’s climate of business it is more essential than ever to create and enforce trust between business partners. I do not see why on a legal basis they have the right, or need, to look at my clients books as to whether or not they would like to enter into a business relationship.”

“Need I say that both businesses operate parallel in the economic biosphere of our city. What my client fears, and is reluctant to divulge,” Rival said, turning their head slightly inclining it towards Lawyer.

The movement was so small. So imperceptible, but it crushed Lawyers chest like an anvil falling on a piano. That was Rival’s tell, their victory lap, because they had already decided that they won.

“…is that the opposition’s client,” Rival continued, “Company, may decide against pursuing a business relationship at all with my client and take up business with another company. This will cause an unfair advantage for the claimants company, and upset the carefully curated social rules and governance of our city’s economy.”

Judge screwed their mouth up, and Lawyer knew they lost. It was as if Judge had put a pin in Lawyer’s ever present good mood.

This is the first time they lost and they were already swamped in grief without the gavel to signal the death. Because that’s what it felt like. Like Lawyer could see their entire career dying before them.

Thanks to Rival.

It had to be Rival.

They should have come more prepared. Stayed later, worked harder. They wasted Paralegal’s time, Jesus— shit! They still had to face Paralegal.

“With regards to the current situation of a potential business relationship going hypothetically awry, I will have to dismiss the motion for discovery in favour of the defendants objection.”

Judge looked at Lawyer when they spoke again, directing the words to them in earnest. “The law does not operate within hypotheticals and potentials, and it would be a significant error, and violation, of traditional business relations if I filed to accept your motion on behalf of your client, As there is no legal basis to file for this motion, I rule this request as denied. Thank you counsel.”

“Your Honour,” Rival said immediately with a nod.

Lawyer said it a beat after, a bit in a stupor.

Judge rose from the podium, turning off the recording and went back to their chambers to de-robe. Lawyer could hear Rival cleaning up. They heard the hard leather land on the table and the locks click open.

Professional.

Neat.

Organised.

Lawyer looked like an idiot beside them.

Lawyer watched almost forlornly as Judge disappeared behind the door to the Judge’s private quarters, leaving them open and vulnerable to Rival. They felt like a baby bird who fell out of it’s nest right beside a hungry cat with two gleaming hungry eyes and claws sharper than thorns.

“It was a poor motion to pursue,” said Rival, their voice velvety and consoling. It sprung Lawyer into action, taking their own briefcase and hastily putting their papers away. “Businesses do this all the time, Lawyer, it’s okay.”

“You’re not my tutor anymore, Rival. You don’t get to dictate how I feel.”

“I can’t even try and cheer you up as a friend?”

“You were never my friend,” said Hero with a shrug as they zipped up their briefcase and turned to leave.

Rival stood there, blocking their path. Tall, dressed in their designer navy suit with a crisp white button down and a hand held loosely in one pocket. A perfect imitation of a human being, without having the characteristics of one.

“That’s harsh, Lawyer.”

“And yet, true. You’ll have to excuse me.”

Rival didn’t move, didn’t blink. He just stood there, looking down at Lawyer, expression imperceptible. “Come have drinks with me.”

Lawyer scoffed. “To celebrate?”

“It is one loss Lawyer,” said Rival, tone hard. Lawyer sent a cutting glare up at Rival, their eyes narrowed to the dangerous point of a dagger.

“Would you accept it?” Lawyer asked, furious. Rival blinked. That was all the answer Lawyer needed. “Exactly. Excuse me. I need to get back to work.”

Lawyer brushed by Rival and this time, Rival let them. “I’ll find you after work then,” said Rival, and Lawyer shook their head but didn’t turn back around. It wasn’t an offer they could refuse, but right now Lawyer would take all of the agency they could get.

It took getting out into the fresh open air, with sunlight smiling on their skin before Lawyer let their shoulders sag an inch. Just for a moment.

A long, gratuitous inhale, and a satisfying filling exhale.

Then they fixed their posture and continued down the courthouse steps, their easy mask of confidence returning.

[your-local-grinning-cat]

(As my oc Matteo Celeste)

Greeting Chenya. As hesitant as I am to ask, I’m fear that I bring back the curse that is high af Chenya, I was wondering where exactly you get your supply. Not that I’m tempted! I was just curious because….. if I’m escorting Kalim somewhere, we can go the opposite way, away from the den of temptation that you so frequent. That’s the only reason why I’m asking, not because Kalim has been more demanding as normal, or work piling up, no

*whispers* but you do seem so happy when your high on catnip, I long for such peace. Jamil could cover for me for one night, right?

(Matteo is my oc, he is a jaquin beastman, like Elena of Avalor and was bought by the Al-Sims as a child to be Kalims bodyguard due to his wings and claws. He is in Scarabia with Kalim and Jamil. Message me for more info if your interested)

No need to worry, I’m not planning on getting catnipped again any time soon. AR would skin me. They can only handle so much at a time. *snickers*

As for my supply of catnip, it wasn’t mine to begin with! I got exposed to it when I was trying to help my Highness out of the pile he had fallen into, and I know he wasn’t the one who bought it either. That would be Ruggie - Kat friend apparently bought it for Lucius for some reason and Leona got into it.

And then later someone gave me more in return for not hurting innocent civilians. Which I accepted but also found hilarious because I didn’t even do that much to them in particular. I just hissed at them a little and threw an alternate dimension version of Leona at them.

Hmm… speaking of that guy… I wonder where he is now… oh well! 🤷‍♂️

Anyway, I’m not sure how catnip would affect you to be honest! It varies based on the cat! For Leona he responded to it like it was weed, it just made Ruggie pass out for a few hours, and it affected me mostly like crack but with a little weed thrown in at times. But some cats don’t react to ‘nip at all!

It’s the Russian roulette of cat drugs! How will you respond, and will you respond the same way each time? 😸

That being said, I would definitely ask Jamil before you assume he can cover for you, and also start with a small dose of catnip first - just in case it affects you strongly! Never know how long you’ll be catnipped for otherwise! *giggles*

[hughiecampbelle]

hi!! id love if you could ship me with a succession character :) thanks for doing this and i love your writing !!

i have long curly hair, am 1.67m/6'5"ft and from brazil. im a psychology major and im thinking of going into research and possibly teaching (in universities) eventually. i have autism and adhd, i speak 2 languages fluently (pt-br & english) and know a bit of spanish and i love intellectual conversations. im a somewhat quiet person but i like learning and sharing knowledge so i can get excited and into a conversation quite easily. i like routine and organising things and i kind of a worrier, i think too much about the future and am seldom "present". i hate parties and nightclubs, dislike attention, am a quite private person and prefer to be alone (also i NEED time alone or i go crazy) or with a small group of people. also im a ravenclaw in case it wasnt obvious lol (unlikely).

im very nerdy, im a star wars, doctor who, lord of the rings etc fan and i also love video games (currently playing witcher 3 and stardew valley <3). i love musicals and i listen to many different genres, but mostly alternative and pop.

i dont feel the need for luxurious things and big houses and expensive cars, my dream house is a small 1 room apartment with a balcony in a big city (like london or barcelona). my dream life would probably be said apartment, a cat, a job that i liked and being able to wake up and have breakfast in my balcony just listening to the birds sing and watching the people walking on the street. i like anonymity and just being another face in the crowd, being able to just observe the world around me; which is probably one of the reasons im so drawn to big cities.

in terms of my type, i love smart people that can hold interesting and deep conversations. i also dislike rude people and immaturity and stupidity annoy me a bit (i dont mind it in friends but i think that if i spent too much time with someone like that id murder them lol). i smoke weed but i dont feel the need to date someone that does as well, since i dont do it that often – and its the only drug i do.

hope this isnt too much or not enough djcjsksk anyway thanks again !!! have a good day :)

Hi my love! I ship you with: Shiv Roy!!!

She loves how nerdy you are. Every time she sees something about Lord of the Rings or Doctor Who or Star Wars she thinks of you. It could be something little like a key chain or something bigger like an all-night screening of the Star Wars movies, it always makes her smile. She's not the biggest fan of it, but when you're watching she can't help but enjoy it. She loves how excited you get when you talk about it, about your favorite characters or the plot. It brightens her day. She also loves how smart you are. Shiv is surrounded by idiots, mostly her brothers and father. To be able to come home and use her brain and have a stimulating conversation with you, it brings a smile to her face. You're incredibly intelligent and she can't get enough of it. You have worked so hard to get where you are, put in so many study hours, she can't help but feel proud of you.

You love how driven she is. Shiv knows what she wants and what she wants, she gets, even if she has to take a lot of shit from those around her to get it. She works so hard under her family and you couldn't be prouder. She puts everything she has into her work and unfortunately doesn't get the recognition she deserves. You're there to remind her that she's doing an amazing job, that she's Shiv Roy and that people should be scared when they hear her name.

Your relationship is smart. The both of you are fiercely intelligent go-getters. You don't have time to waste on mind games and wondering what the other is thinking and small things that should worry you as a couple, but doesn't. You talk openly about your wants and needs and feelings. Shiv figures she plays enough mind games at the office, with clients and her brothers and her father, she can't come home and do that there, too. It would be exhausting. You both know what you want in life and you get it, easy as that. You want to go out to dinner for date night so you do. You want to take an impromptu vacation so you do. Your relationship is easy and comfortable and to the point.

Your first date is for drinks. She takes you to this place that she knows that won't be too crowded or busy or flashy, but of course her definition of flashy is far different than yours. It's there she is able to open to you, ask questions, relax. It's rare you get to see this side of her, you welcome it. She laughs a lot when she's around you. She can't remember the last time she felt so at ease around someone. She wants to keep feeling this way, she wants to keep spending time with you.

Relationship Headcanon: Shiv surprises you one weekend to a little apartment she bought in London just for you. She surprises you with breakfast in bed and makes your dream come true. It's a beautiful little place you two can escape to when things are stressful and you need a break. You people watch from the balcony, just the two of you, letting the day slip by. It's one of the most wonderful days you spend together.

Thank you my love!!! Hope you like it! 💜💜💜

[huntunderironskies]

Out of curiosity, how would it be for a handful of the different CoD splats to enter a world where they didn’t exist? Would like a completely awful situation or neutral or something else entirely? I’ve been thinking about a crossover like that but figured it’d be neat to see some opinions on it, get some good ol’ creative inspiration and all that.

So the biggest thing that could cause a splat to death spiral here is if they have Touchstones. Most of them do-- this is what keeps them tethered to a sense of personhood and identity. I'm going to walk through some of the splats that I think will have notable issues for better or worse. I'm assuming that there won't be the other unique cosmological aspects of Chronicles of Darkness but I don't want to get too deep in the metaphyiscal weeds about what that might entail (I'm talking about things like...would Essence even exist in the first place if spirits don't exist, how would souls work here, all that stuff.)

If they're going to a world without their Touchstones, Demons benefit the most by far. There's no God-Machine so there's nothing there to hunt them down. Now, Aether does become even more of a precious resource than before since presumably without a God-Machine, Aether no longer exists, but you can get by a surprisingly long time with just Embeds and suddenly losing and gaining Cover no longer is a problem. That and there are plenty of Demons who'd be perfectly happy living an ordinary human life and who had that goal all along.

...though, that said, I'd imagine an Integrator is going to have a theological crisis with their goal of reuniting with the God-Machine now completely out the window but they're probably the only ones who are going to be suffering.

Changelings are an odd case where they are finally free of living in the shadow of their Keeper and being taken back to Arcadia but also just because you get away from that doesn't undo all of the psychological damage from that abuse. Any situation that would remind them of their Durance is going to cause Clarity damage and, well, unless they can get some kind of new Touchstone...

Mummies are tricky. I am assuming they will be free of the Judges here which is both good and also probably something of an existential crisis for a lot of them. When you've spent millennia serving them, what are you supposed to do now that you're suddenly free? This also means that without Du'at and the Judges around to bring them back, they could actually die permanently (which I believe is an outcome of Apotheosis in 1e anyways, so a mummy that was already hoping to achieve it would probably be fine with that.)

Werewolves lose the most here. They need other werewolves around and especially their pack. A high Primal-Urge werewolf needs to eat spirits or they're going to eventually starve to death. They need to hunt and keep in touch with their spirit-half by going into the Shadow or they'll lose their Harmony. And, well, there's implications that it's the Firstborn who bless the Sacred Hunt. So, bad times all around.

Otherwise just how much of a danger they'd end up being depends on the setting, monsters in Chronicles of Darkness are quite high-powered compared to a lot of other supernatural settings and are a lot more varied in what they're capable of. Your average werewolf in an urban fantasy setting is strong and might regenerate but they're not going to, say, summon up a blizzard or whatever have you.

Just to summarize: I would say generally speaking however, most splats are not gonna have a good time without their support networks if they get isekai'd somewhere alone.

(If this is a little disjointed it's because I'm feeling a bit exhausted, between a heat wave here and the semester starting with all of my classes requiring a truly absurd amount of reading I've used up most of my brain cells today, haha.)

[mashkiki-weeds]

I would like to acknowledge that I am a guest on unceded xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) land, and to give thanks that they protect the plants I will be talking about.

This is a super big and beautiful common plantain (Sxu'enhween in Hul'qumi'num, Otawagebag(oon) in Ojibwe) with an unfortunate case of powdery mildew. Also known as "white man's foot" (hey settler species, I see you), common plantain is both food and medicine.

First of all, it grows everywhere- I'm sure you've seen it pushing through a crack in the sidewalk, or in a patch of grass by a telephone pole. It's a good plant to start learning about foraging; distinctive, hard to misidentify, plentiful, and you can't use it badly.

Plantain is edible through its entire growth cycle. It’s super high in vitamin C, loaded with tannins, and is a significant source of iron and calcium. Both the leaves and the seeds are edible.

I just learned that it's also chock-full of vitamin A and magnesium, as well as containing "the compound plantamajoside" (no idea), which has a similar molecular structure to the active ingredient in echinacea. What a world!

As with most plants, the leaves are less fiborous when picked young, but you can throw 'em in a soup at any stage. The leaves can be eaten raw- younger leaves are better for salads and smoothies, although they tend to be slightly more bitter.

The seeds are a pain to harvest, and I've only done so once. Apparently they're a nice topper for salads and sandwiches, but I just chewed on 'em. Not bad.

You can also make tea with the fresh or dried leaves, which brings me to the medicinal properties of white man's foot.

In tea form, plantain is excellent for coughs and sore throats. It has anti-inflammatory properties that soothes the throat and lungs, and gets more mucous production going. It also has astringent properties that will help with diarrhea, and keeping you regular when it's not a crisis.

The leaves themselves are awesome. If you've got a cut, a bruise, a bug bite, an ulcer, eczema, etc, you probably want plantain leaf on your body. You can do this in a few ways:

You can chew on the leaves and apply them directly to the affected area. Be careful with this one, as human spit isn't always the best.

You can bruise the leaves by crushing and rolling them- super effective for bruising and swollen sprains.

You can do stuff with them! Infusing in oil, making a tincture (extracting medicine through high-proof booze), squeezing the midrib (the big vein in the middle of the plant) for the juicy stuff. All great ways of working with the plant to coax its mashkikiiwan to interact and play well with others.

All in all, like many plants considered "weeds", plantains are pretty awesome and useful.

Now that you've got a plant to find and forage, a couple quick notes on the process. When harvesting medicine, particularly in urban areas, there are some things that I would encourage you to keep in mind.

1) Plants deserve respect, just as any living thing does. If you are choosing to harvest, you are acknowledging that the plant has gifts to share with you, and so please do so mindfully. Don't take more than you need. Work gently.

I will always offer tobacco, as my dad taught me to do. I speak to the plants, let them know who they're going to be helping, thank them. This isn't for everybody, but I hope that you find your way to honor the plants you're working with.

2) Cities are gross. Be careful where you harvest. Try to stay away from roadways, sewers, anywhere icky stuff is gonna be leeching into the ground. Plantains are great at drawing out impurities- remember that before you eat one that was growing in a used car lot.

3) Don't blindly listen to strange women on the internet when it comes to plants. I have a deep love of plant medicine, and therefore have accumulated lots of knowledge... but so much of my knowledge has come from being wrong over and over again. I'm wrong more often than I'm right. Research whatever you put in/on your body.

Side note, one of my favorite things about white man's foot is that it will come in and destroy cultivated lawns of non-native grasses. I love it when people try to get rid of them, just to discover that it's killed all the grass underneath, and there's now huge holes in their lawn. They get really mad, and if you have a useless resource-consuming field of rye grass... well, you deserve to be mad.

Thanks to Luschiim's Plants by Dr. Luschiim Arvid Charlie and Nancy J. Turner for the Hul'qumi'num name.

[peaceful-melancholia]

The Harbinger

“Being the Harbinger should put you at a level of respect with the Healer and the Judge, in my opinion. You’re as powerful as them, maybe more,” Catrin said. He said this seemingly out of nowhere. The two of them were spending time together in the garden, and they had been silent until that point. Yoruth was enjoying the time more so perhaps than any other moment in his life. He never wanted it to end.

“There is an excellent logic to why it does not command such a respect,” Yoruth said.

“Oh? And what logic could possibly be excellent enough to warrant a relative disrespect of the only man on earth who can see exactly what will come to pass, with no error or inaccuracy?” Catrin challenged. He scuffed his boot to tear a weed from the ground and looked at Yoruth, waiting for the explanation.

“Well, have you ever considered that I see what will come to pass, no matter what efforts anyone might make? I know these things, I see them, but if they are intolerable I can do nothing to stop them,” Yoruth explained.

“Surely there must be a way,” Catrin said.

“If there was, then I would be on a level with any paltry diviner. But any effort I make to prevent a future from happening will only feed into the continuation of that future. And if I accept the future, then that, too will bring the future about. I simply know exactly what will happen, including any efforts made to stop them.”

“And what is it like?”

“Oh, the seeing? It is like being there. I can know as clearly as I can be in the time I am in. I need only look. Even time seems to pass as if I were in that future, but I can always return, and no time has passed at all.”

“And in that experience, can you not attempt something different?”

“I suppose I might. I won’t necessarily remember all that I have tried, but even as fruitless as all that effort may be, I suppose I could try. I would if I needed to.”

“Ah, we pray that you never need to. Do you see any tragedy?”

“Not here, no. I saw the downfall of a great many to the west of here, which would have already come to pass, but not here. Not yet, at least.”

“Why did you not warn them?”

“I did, of course,” Yoruth said. He bent down to put his hand around a flower, pressing his nose to it to smell it – it was in full bloom, fragrant, and beautiful. He saw its eventual death, but that only seemed to sweeten this small moment. Perhaps the tragedy of endings sweetens the beauty of the present? It is better because it must end, Yoruth thought, though the ending was never any more pleasant.

“Yet you are sure it came to pass,” Catrin said, standing over Yoruth.

“Of course,” Yoruth said, standing once more. “All I see comes to pass. My warnings only serve to allow someone to mentally prepare for their future, not to change it. I told the Commander himself, who is more broadly being called the Wolf these days. He brushed aside the warning, so I told some others also. None of it will matter. Some will survive, many will die. Some will only survive in the short term, just the battle. And the world will change.”

“Change how?” Catrin asked, running his hand along a strand of grass to collect its seeds.

“In unpleasant ways. A sundering, in several senses of the word. Sundering of souls from body, of power from power, of society.”

“Will it reach this place?” Catrin asked.

“Yes. It will reach this place.”

“When?”

“It will do you only harm to know. Let us enjoy this moment. We will have others, but perhaps none as sweet as this.”

…

Several weeks later, the constant badgering and complaints about shadow magic came to a crescendo. The island gathered and spoke against the practice of the magic, banning it entirely. Of course, in the case of many, that would be rather vague. Yoruth, for one, could not be detected using his magic. Except of course his shadow form, which was an unsettling creature with the body of a great bird and a human head. Others might be more effected, but ultimately, it was a measure to ensure that those without shadow magic felt safe.

Catrin was not a shadow caster, but he felt it unfair to ban the magic his friend had only used for the good of others.

“This is an unfair thing to do,” he would say to anyone who would listen. “What have Yoruth and the others ever done?”

“Oh, he has done plenty,” said one woman. “Every bad thing he says comes true, no matter what I do. He’s cursing us,” she said.

“No, he isn’t. He isn’t able to change the truth and neither are you. He only reveals the truth.”

“I wish he wouldn’t, so it wouldn’t be hanging over me,” the woman said.

“It’s not Yoruth, not really,” said a man. “It’s shadow magic. Not Yoruth’s fault, but he has an awful magic that poisons the earth.”

“It never once did, until all this negativity came into being,” Catrin said.

“Nevertheless, can’t have all my plants dying, can I?”

Another man, a bit older than the last: “Well, it’s not so much that Yoruth is an issue. Or the others, really. It’s just that if we become known for our acceptance of shadow casters, they’ll all come flocking, and then we’d have a problem. We can’t support them, and they’d steal all the resources from the rest of us. It’s them coming here that’s the problem. And not just for us, for them, too.”

“And you believe they don’t deserve sanctuary anywhere on earth?” Catrin asked.

“Oh, somewhere – it only cannot be here. We cannot support them, so none of them should come. Some coming over would be a slippery slope.”

Catrin continued to try, but he soon realized that his efforts were fruitless. He kept himself appraised of the news, and tried to use that knowledge to show the destruction being caused by all of them, but they wouldn’t listen.

“The Healer is dead. He has been killed. And he is the Healer, the most respected mantle of all time. He was killed. And he would not have found sanctuary here. Perhaps if he had, he would be alive and able to help us all work to fix this issue. At the very least, we would have good medical care!” Catrin said on a street corner.

“We didn’t kill him, though, did we? So it’s not really our fault. Just unfortunate,” a man said as he passed.

Catrin told Yoruth all about his struggles, and Yoruth nodded. Unfortunately, he had known that these efforts would fail. He also knew that similar efforts would also fail. Truly the inexcusable actions of a few had poisoned the reputation of the many. There was no going back from that, it seemed, and things would need to get worse before they got better.

“Are the others, like you, are they all going to die?” Catrin asked, exhaustion and the grief of ongoing failure crossing his face.

“No, not all,” Yoruth said, smiling grimly as he handed a mug of tea to Catrin. “Many, though.”

“Who? Will they all be killed?”

“Are you sure you want that answer?” Yoruth asked.

“Yes, I must have it.”

“The Plantwright is to starve herself, trying to repair the dead fields, promising she would not eat again until it was from the field she was working on. That field will not produce for many years after her death is forgotten.

“The Reckoner is, even now, being hunted. She has the power to change things, unlike me, but I can see everything she will change, and she will eventually be caught, and killed. The Steelwright will die many times, his deaths undone by the Reckoner, and he will die a final time after watching her be killed.

“The Commander died in the battle, as I told him he would. He was set to agony by a man named Liam. He was killed by the same one who will kill the Reckoner. There is nothing any of us can do to stop him.

“The Healer died by his own oath: never to harm. He could have defended himself, but he defended his patients. Without his care, those patients also died, except one, who will go on to live a life of sorrow, never knowing why his caretaker was killed, or why his mother died next to him.

“The Bookwright will lock herself away, recording all she can with her pen and her hand scrawling details she never knew. She will record most of this era of pain, before her hand will write of her own discovery and death, and the book she wrote will be destroyed by the orchestrator of this all.

“The Stonewright will be thrown from a great height, which he will survive. And yet he will die when his works, deemed evil and profane, are thrown from the same height and onto him.

“And I will die-”

“Stop.”

“Sorry?” Yoruth asked, interrupted from his seeing.

“I do not want to know how you will die,” Catrin said. “Who will live?”

“Oh, about half. They will be successful in hiding. The Patriarch will be among them, dying of an illness after denying his friendship to the Crystalwright.”

“All of these are so incredibly sad. How do you handle it all?” Catrin said.

“It was a learned thing. I started knowing of many deaths, in detail, when I was young. So I have practice. The first fate I learned was of the Soulwright,” Yoruth said, thinking back.

“And what happens to him? Another victim of all of this?” Catrin asked.

“No, no – he, then she, then she, then he, and all of them for generations will die as children, just as their power is manifesting. The power will sunder several years from now, but then each will die separately in the same manner – being hunted by various hired assassins.”

“Oh, Yoruth, you have known that this whole time? That is what is in your mind?” Catrin said, pityingly.

“Not only that. A great many good things, too. But those wane with time as we enter a darker age. I should say that my successors may be haunted by an even greater darkness for some time, sorrow more consistent than sorrow should be.”

“Do you know that for certain?” Catrin asked.

“No. No, that one is a guess. I can see none of my successors. Perhaps they shall be happy.”

…

Some months later, and Yoruth had been stepping outside less and less. He had seen increasingly hostile looks and seemed to be unwelcome anywhere, so he went nowhere. Catrin had been kind enough to help him get what he needed, but of course, Catrin’s association with him had marked Catrin for hatred, also. So eventually Catrin took as much food and water as he could and holed up with Yoruth in the hope of waiting out the harsh feelings. Yoruth had no such hope, but allowed Catrin to have it.

And then, the day came. The sun rose as any other day, but it seemed redder to Yoruth, with his knowledge of what it would bring.

Knocks on the door were the start. Yoruth and Catrin did not answer, but the knocks grew more insistent, to the point that Yoruth knew they were not knocks made with hands, but knocks made with axes. It was not to be long, then. Yoruth, doomed, held a knife. He would try, do his best to save Catrin. He would fail.

The door burst open, and Catrin stood in front of Yoruth to block the path between the angry mob and their target. The axes and torches were too much for a singular knife, and Yoruth watched as his best friend fell at their hands, victim due only to his unwavering friendship and for no wrongdoing.

Yoruth saw all of their deaths. The people in the crowd would die in a variety of ways. One of them, by Yoruth’s hand. Just the one who had landed the killing blow on Catrin.

Yoruth saw himself pushing his knife into the man’s neck, which would kill him. But before it did, the others descended on Yoruth. Yoruth knew that if he cast his shadow, he could survive a few moments longer – but he didn’t want to. He wanted to save Catrin, to find some way to prevent his death, fruitless as it might be. Whatever previous attempts he might have made, this one was not fruitful, and the shear fact that he was still doing this meant that none of them had been. He would have to repeat what he assumed he had done many times before.

Yoruth voluntarily forgot all that he had learned in the months of looking into this future. Then, if he was lucky, he would be able to stumble upon a decision that would change the outcome as he looked again. He didn’t think it was possible. But even fruitless, he had to try. To him, it would be an endless loop for all eternity – he would never give up. But for the rest, this horrid fate would continue on, and Yoruth and Catrin would die.

As he forgot what he had learned, he found himself once more, in the garden, with Catrin. An eternal moment of silence, of bliss. And he began looking once again into the grim future, trying to find a path to get at least Catrin out of this alive.