#back to the future prompts meme

[dwarfstaralloy]

you got a permit for that?

meme: back to the future prompts status: accepting (from mutuals)

His affirmative answer and subsequent slide over of a piece of paper might have been fuelled by too little sleep and too much caffeine. But instead of the polite thing to do, Ray had gone with the chaotic. So Lou - who really did not deserve it, and Ray would apologise once he had actually gotten some rest and wasn't running on fumes - was given a piece of paper he had scrawled 'PERMIT: I do what I want' on.

[writelikeyouarerunningoutof]

i never picked a fight in my entire life. (cnfrmdkll)

meme: back to the future prompts status: accepting (from mutuals)

The laugh he let out was completely involuntary. Eyes were bright with mirth, smirk playing on his lips - he never looked more like his nephew. "Sure, kid. People just so happened to fall on the wrong side of your humour."

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM BACK TO THE FUTURE *  assorted dialogue from the 1985 film, adjust as necessary

hey, [name]? hello, anybody home?

thank god i found you.

what's going on? where have you been all week?

y'know, this time it wasn't my fault.

you got a real attitude problem, [name].

why even bother? you haven't got a chance.

yeah, well. history is gonna change.

one rejection isn't the end of the world.

if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.

i'll call you tonight.

what are you looking at, butthead?

say hi to your mom for me.

do you have any idea how important this was? do you have any clue?

we're gonna have to eat this cake by ourselves.

we all make mistakes in life.

you didn't fall asleep, did you?

welcome to my latest experiment!

all of your questions will be answered.

when this baby hits eighty-eight miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious shit.

where the hell are they?

i don't get what happened.

things have certainly changed around here.

oh my god, they found me. i don't know how but they found me.

run for it, [name]!

this has gotta be a dream.

i just wanna use the phone.

you wouldn't want that to happen, would you?

i don't wanna see you in here again.

i'm gonna make something out of myself.

you've been asleep for almost nine hours.

do you mind if i sit here?

that's a big bruise you have there.

what were you doing in the middle of the street?

i think you should spend the night.

i don't wanna know your name. i don't wanna know anything about you.

i'm sorry, but i'm afraid you're stuck here.

maybe you were adopted.

what have you been doing all day?

nothing's coming to mind.

i'm writing this down. this is good stuff.

hey, don't i know you from somewhere?

i'm your density. i mean... i'm your destiny.

i'm gonna get that son-of-a-bitch.

how did you know i was here?

i think a man should be strong... so he could stand up for himself and protect the woman he loves.

i never picked a fight in my entire life.

i'm really gonna miss you, [name].

you got a permit for that?

you might regret it later in life.

you're beginning to sound just like my mother.

leave her alone, you bastard.

this is for all you lovers out there.

will we ever see you again?

i have to tell you about the future!

i figured... what the hell.

look me up when you get there.

i can't keep up with all your boyfriends.

i think we need a rematch.

why am i always the last one to know about these things?

like i always told you, if you put your mind to it you can accomplish anything.

you're acting like you haven't seen me in a week.

roads? where we're going, we don't need roads.

[tathrin]

5. …where it doesn’t hurt.

Oh what a tender choice, thank you for asking! Prompt taken from this; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time.

Legolas was pacing. That was the first thing Gimli became aware of when he woke for the third time, his head finally clearing of the fuzziness of healing potions and injuries enough for him to focus properly on the world once more.

Legolas was pacing, which meant that he was worried.

The elf was almost never still, Wood-elves being apparently as prone to rustling as the leaves of their beloved trees, but it was a gentle, casual sort of motion, instinctive and subconscious. If called out on it, Legolas often evinced confusion, as if he had not even noticed the slight but unceasing motion of his lissome body.

Pacing, on the other hand...

Gimli tried to speak, and a groan emerged instead. Instantly, the elf was at his side.

"Gimli?"

The sound of that bright, cheerful voice drawn in to such a tight, tremulous trill of a word made Gimli's heart ache almost as much as his bones did right now. The sight of the elf poised on his heels beside Gimli's bed, his long fingers frozen halfway across the distance between them as though he was afraid of reaching closer; afraid of actually touching the dwarf, was even worse and the shadow of terror that flickered across his pale eyes was utterly unbearable.

Gimli forced himself up from the dregs of his drugged sleep and into enough consciousness to rasp, "I am well, Legolas."

It came out rougher than he intended, more of a hoarse croak than as actual words. He opened his mouth to try again and found the rim of a cool metal cup pressed to his lips instead.

"Drink," Legolas commanded.

It hurt, lifting his head enough to do so, even with strong elvish fingers supporting him from below, but Gimli forced himself to swallow the cold, mint-laced water. He flopped back to his pillows after a few gulps and cleared his throat. The results were pleasantly akin to a rumble of stone rather than a creak of brittle wooden timbers, so Gimli decided to brave the effort of speech again.

"I am all right, Legolas," he said.

"You are not," the elf retorted. "You are banged all to bits, and the fact that none of your bones are broken is nothing short of a miracle."

"Dwarven bones are strong," said Gimli.

Legolas snorted. "Yes, and their heads are hard—a fact with which I am both beyond irritated, and exceedingly grateful. Gimli, what were you thinking?"

"I did not expect the stone to break," Gimli murmured. Dwarven stone would not have broken beneath his feet; or if it had had no choice but to do so, then it would at least have warned him first. But the shoddy white stone with which the masons of Minas Tirith had built some of their more recent, less elegant and less impressive structures, apparently had no such concern for the beings what walked upon its pale surfaces, even when said beings walked with dwarven feet.

"No!" Legolas exclaimed. "No, I am sure you did not! Nonetheless, it did, and you took quite a tumble as a result!"

Gimli grumbled, and made to swing himself out of the bed. The world reeled around him and a hand like a splay of twigs against his chest stopped him as firmly as a block of granite.

"You are not getting out of that bed until Aragorn himself says you are well," Legolas declared, his lilting voice gone suddenly fierce. Then it cracked open like a wound as he added plaintively, "Gimli, you nearly died!"

"Poppycock," Gimli retorted, trying to hide the fact that he was panting from even that slight abortive effort. He sank back into the pillow and forced himself to breathe slowly.

"You fell almost twenty feet and landed on solid stone."

Gimli grunted. "Well, then of course I am not dead," he said. "Good stone would never break a dwarf that landed on it."

Legolas made a noise of exasperation that sounded comically similar to an angry bird scolding an interloper away from its nest.

"Hush," Gimli said. "Your point is made; I will stay in the bed and await the word of the healers." He was not sure that his body would allow him to do anything else anyway, but there was no reason to admit to that. It would only worry Legolas more if he did, and he would be surely be more mollified by Gimli's apparent surrender if he did not know that he was only acquiescing because he had no choice.

"Good," Legolas snapped, and dropped onto the floor beside the bed.

They sat there in silence for a few seconds as the aches in Gimli's bones throbbed and pounded, as though he were an anvil in Erebor's busiest forges. Either the draughts he could dimly remember being coaxed to drink by Gondor's kind were wearing off, or the pain was simply becoming more noticeable as his thoughts cleared.

He could not stop himself from groaning, although he clamped his lips tight over the sound as soon as it escaped—but too late.

"Does it hurt terribly?" Legolas asked. His voice had gone gentle again, small.

Gimli nodded, and regretted the motion with a wince. He screwed his eyes shut. "Yes," he admitted.

"Where?"

Light elvish fingers ghosted over Gimli's arm and up across his shoulder, their touch no more than the slightest breath of wind amidst slim treetops. The pain still seemed to dull a little at the touch, as though Aragorn's hands were not the only ones that held healing in their palms.

"Everywhere," Gimli moaned.

Legolas's fingers retreated at once, and Gimli could not help but sigh in regret.

"Well," he said, after a moment, "perhaps not quite everywhere."

"No?"

There was a faint rustle of movement, barely audible. Gimli could not bear to open his eyes and let the light in again, but he pictured the elf leaning closer and smiled at the imagined sight.

"My nose," Gimli said at last. "I think my nose is all right."

Legolas let out a surprised laugh, a burst of silvery mirth like the sudden ringing of clear bells.

Gimli's smile settled more firmly behind his beard. "Yes," he said. "My nose is definitely unharmed."

"And well that it is," Legolas agreed, gliding the faintest touch of his fingers across Gimli's cheeks and forehead before finally coming to rest against the side of his nose. "I would be grieved to see such handsome features mashed by such a fall."

"That's why I made sure to land on my back," Gimli teased. "To save my pretty face for you."

Legolas laughed again. The sound was watery, but stronger; the tremble was gone. "You are very kind," he said.

There was another, longer rustle of movement, and Legolas's hand fell away to be replaced by the light touch of warm lips upon the very tip of Gimli's unbroken nose.

In the darkness of his pain, Gimli smiled.

[dandylovesturtles]

this is a brain worm that spawned as soon as I read the second injury prompt, bad future timeline, from the prospective of someone outside the family (civilian, fellow resistance fighter, etc), where one of the brothers/april/or either of the casey’s are injured, “Someone get the medic. Get the medic!” and the medic is leo, unknowingly responding to a gravely injured loved one

shit this is a good prompt anon, thanks

credit to @promptsbytaurie for the injury ask meme!

cw: ROTTMNT bad timeline, mentions of blood and injury

———

He finds her leaned against some rubble, the carcasses of four krang hounds strewn around her. They don’t bleed like earth creatures, but the stringy bits of their mutilated bodies are strewn across the ground, and all he can think is, Good.

There is blood, though: her blood, gushing from a set of lacerations in her side. She’s so still that he thinks, for one awful minute, that she’s dead.

Then she shifts and groans and he stumbles quickly to her side, dropping to his knees and putting pressure on the wound, the way he was taught in ROTC a million years ago.

She sucks in a breath, gritting her teeth, and then her eyes open. They rove the battlefield with a dazed confusion, and he wonders if that’s a concussion or just the blood loss. Or both.

“Commander O’Neil,” he says urgently. “We need to move you.”

Her head turns and her searching eyes find his face. She blinks rapidly and squints at his face.

“Who…?”

He smiles, because it’s a kindness he can give her. Kids in school used to make fun of his buck teeth. Weird how an alien invasion makes some things easier. “Jake West. I joined your squad last week.”

“Oh, right.” She grunts and starts to shift. “New guy. Help me up, will you?”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t think you can walk with that wound.”

“Well, I’m not letting you carry me out of here like some damsel in distress,” she says stubbornly. She slings an arm over his shoulders, gritting her teeth. Her brow is sweating, but she repeats, “Help me up.”

Jake’s only been part of this resistance colony for two weeks, since the tattered remnants of his last group was found by one of their scouting parties, but he already has a lot of respect for O’Neil. She’s a foot shorter than him, but she embodies toughness in the set of her shoulders and her refusal to back down. She’s more fearsome than most of the old military guys Jake’s ever met.

So he helps her up.

She stumbles when she’s on her feet, and he moves in to keep supporting her. The blood drips down her side, and she hisses when she sees it.

“Can’t believe I let those hounds get a piece of me. Dee’s gonna be insufferable.”

Jake wonders who “Dee” is, but doesn’t ask. They have to get out of here - the onslaught may have calmed for the moment, but the krang always come back.

O’Neil can’t move very quickly - Jake finds himself dragging her more than he helps her walk. He suggests carrying her again and she turns it down, though only with a shake of her head this time. They stumble through the rubble in mostly silence, making for the base’s hidden entrance.

Above their heads, there is a noise like a sonic boom, a streak of orange lighting up the sky as it goes past, latching onto an approaching krang drone ship and pulling it out of the sky.

“There goes Mikey,” says O’Neil, without even looking up.

Right; Master Michelangelo, one of the turtles. Jake had felt a little trepidation, when he had first learned this resistance group was full of - and even run by - inhuman mutants.

Then he’d seen what they could do, and that feeling faded fast.

He hasn’t actually met the turtles, only ever seen them in passing. He’s heard from those have been here longer that they’re actually really friendly, or at least all of them but Master Donatello are. More importantly, they put their lives on the line every day for what remains of the people of earth. Jake hasn’t needed to be here more than a few weeks to see that.

They fight like they have everything to lose. Jake respects that.

Master Michelangelo’s cover makes the trip back to the base easier, even as O’Neil flags more and more against his side. By the end he’s carrying her whether she wants it or not, draped half across his back in a fireman’s hold. She’s too out of it now to object. He hopes that doesn’t mean he’s too late. He’s so tired of losing people, even those he hasn’t known long. He likes Commander O’Neil.

He stumbles through the tunnel and into the bright synthetic lights of the entry checkpoint. Most combatants have already returned by now, but there are still people milling around, checking for any signs of krang infection in those coming back.

“Someone get the medic!” he hollers as he enters. “Get the medic!”

There’s a few echoing shouts, and then a door flings open and out walks Master Leonardo himself. He’s wearing a makeshift surgical apron, covered in blood, gloves, and a mask hanging loose around his neck. Jake’s never seen him this close, and now he’s a little taken aback, the way the turtle towers over everyone, moving so lithely despite the bulk of his shell, a commanding but easy air to his presence that seems to demand respect but also offer reassurance to everyone else in the room.

Every time Jake’s seen him from afar, he’s been grinning, laughing, smiling. He isn’t now.

“Don’t yell unless someone’s dying,” he says, eyes scanning the room until his gaze locks with Jake’s. He sees the body slumped across Jake’s back and grimaces. “I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.”

He crosses the room and directs Jake toward one of the cots. “Alright, put ‘em on the triage bed and let’s see what we’re working with.”

“Lacerations, sir,” says Jake, as he lowers O’Neil to the cot. “She was conscious when I found her, but she’s lost a lot of blood. Maybe a concussion.”

He trails off as he turns back and sees Master Leonardo’s state. His eyes are locked on O’Neil’s face, like he’s only just recognized who it is on the cot. His mouth hangs slightly open, and there’s an open, vulnerable devastation, a naked fear on his face. One Jake recognizes too well.

Even the mutants, with all their powers and all their strength, can be afraid.

Then, just like that, he pulls it together again for a fleeting glimpse Jake saw Leonardo, but now the Master is back, and barking orders.

“Marta!” he calls, turning his head to address a woman standing at the inspection line. “Prep OR now! And get us ready for a blood transfusion- B positive if we have it.”

“On it,” says Marta, and she’s gone just like that. Jake turns his attention back to Leonardo, who has taken O’Neil’s wrist in his, feeling for a pulse.

He’s quiet for several seconds, then he nods to himself and starts asking questions.

“Any idea what did this?”

“It was hounds, sir. I found her with several dead ones.”

“Sounds about right.” Master Leonardo sounds almost amused, though he doesn’t stop his work. “Any sign of infection?”

“No. She was talking and able to walk most of the way.”

Krang infections take over the host so quickly, they would know by now, with a wound like that.

“Hounds can only infect with their bites, and these look like scratches from claws.” Leonardo comes out again, as he reaches for O’Neil’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Knew you wouldn’t let them get a bite in.”

The way he looks at O’Neil is so tender. They clearly know each other, and not just as fellow resistance commanders. Jake can’t help but wonder how they know each other; how a human and a mutant came to have a bond this close.

He doesn’t have time to ask, of course. Seconds later, O’Neil is being moved to OR, and Leonardo is making to follow them.

“Sir!” Jake calls after him. “Is there anything else I can do to help the commander?”

Master Leonardo barely pauses. “Get yourself checked for infection, and donate blood if you can. Then get some rest. You’ve done enough today.” He glances over his shoulder. “And stop calling me ‘sir’. Makes me feel so old.”

Then he’s gone.

Jake watches the door Leonardo just disappeared through for a second, then moves to do as he was told. He thinks about the way Master Leonardo looked at Commander O’Neil. Like she was part of what he was fighting not to lose.

And he thinks, maybe, that they’re lucky here. That this just might be the resistance that saves the world.

[tinytalkingtina]

Fancy Falling Into You Here

Written for the August @steddiemicrofic prompt, using the word "plug" and 437 words.

437 words | Rating T | Ao3 link

On their first date, Steve and Eddie come to realize they had first met under much more embarrassing circumstances.

Tags: EMT Steve, Coffee shop owner/clumsy Eddie, first date, minor injuries (nothing described in detail), modern AU, embarrassment, BBC's Sherlock haunting all of us when plugging in our phones

Inspired by @dreamwatch for making me think of steddifying this post! Author's notes under the cut

"G-d damn BBC Sherlock," Eddie grumbled as he fumbled plugging his phone into its charging cable for a third time. "Stupid Benedict Cumberbatch and his weird attractive cheekbones." 

A snort from the couch reminded him he actually had company, oops.

Eddie gave his date a grin. "Sorry, I'd love to say that I'm normally as graceful as a swan or something, but as you've seen, unfortunately abject clumsiness is par for the course. It's a miracle my coffee shop's still standing."

It was fine. He could still salvage this and come off as less of a disgruntled sad wet cat man to Smooth Hottie with Glasses and That ButtTM of daily matcha latte with oat milk order fame. Still, Hottie (who went by "Steve", apparently) didn't really seem turned off by Eddie's whole deal. He just laughed.

"Oh, trust me, I've seen much worse. My first year as an EMT, we got a call to a college dorm. This unlucky dude fell off the top bunk and somehow broke both legs and an arm.”

Eddie froze, his quest to charge his phone completely forgotten.

“Plus the guy managed to down the shade on the way too, honestly it was an impressive amount of damage from a 4 foot drop," Steve continued on, oblivious. “One of the funniest calls me and my partner have gotten, and we once had to take care of someone who accidentally fell on a Buzz Lightyear toy and somehow got it stuck up their—you okay man?"

"I panicked and thought the cord would hold my weight." Eddie hid his face in his hands.

"Oh shit. You're 'broke all his bones man'?”

This was a nightmare. "Oh my G-d, I was so woozy. Please tell me I didn’t say anything weird.”

“You asked if I could ‘kiss your booboos better.’ Guess you’ve grown out your hair since?”

"I had to buzz it all off that semester because I had an Incident with some gum," Eddie groaned. "You can go now, I won't hold it against you."

He heard Steve slide closer. "And what makes you think your whole 'Bambi on ice' thing isn't working for me?"

Eddie cracked open an eye. "You sure about that?"

"Pretty sure," he said with a wink. "Plus, if you meet my friend Robin, she's known me since high school. Which means she unfortunately has photos of my braces years. You’re gonna have to stick around long enough to see em."

Eddie stared. Smooth Hottie still wanted him somehow? "Okay Big Boy, looks like I will." 

Steve smiled back. “Good. Now, lean back, I owe you a few kisses.”

Authors notes:

In case you weren't on Tumblr in the early-mid 2010's and remain blissfully unaware of BBC's Sherlock, please watch this clip to understand why Eddie is cursing Benedict Cumberbatch when he fails to plug in his phone fully sober

Eddie, Jeff, and Chrissy run a little coffee shop (complete with monthly open mic/karaoke nights) that EMTs Steve and Robin frequent. Not to worry, Robin will eventually meet her future wife Vickie at the shop after Vickie wins her heart with a rendition of "Before He Cheats."

Originally I had injured Eddie ask Steve about his biblically accurate angel form, but since I decided that Eddie's accident took place around 2010, and the angel meme only took off in 2020, I rewrote the line to be about kissing his booboos. Let's pretend this happens after a separate accident befalls Eddie (he'll be fine): Eddie: Ouch, I was out of it after they gave me the painkillers. I think I called you an angel? Steve: Yeah, you asked if my biblically accurate form had eyes as pretty as my human ones.

[chex-appreciation-week]

Chex week will be happening from October 13th through the 19th!

And with that, we also get the official announcement of the prompts!

There are no limits or rules to how these can be interpreted. You can go as literal or as artsy or silly as you want with them, the skies the limit!

Day 1: Memory

As they always say: memory is the key. Maybe it’s a simple reflection on the past, maybe it’s the fact that they’re the literal manifestations of someone else’s memories, a reflection of a once great love… or perhaps Church just forgot to close the damn cabinet again.

Day 2: Fluff

Our favorite doomed duo is no stranger to angst and tragedy… so let’s give them a break! Let them enjoy some domestic bliss for once, and spend time in each other’s company without the overbearing burden of being doomed by the narrative. Just this once.

Day 3: Family

These two found their own little family inside of a box canyon, consisting of idiots and morons but they are their idiots and morons… or perhaps you want to go further back in time to when there was just Leonard and Allison and a beautiful baby girl and the future seemed so much brighter… or maybe Church and Tex just adopted a cat

Day 4: AU

Now they’re medieval knights fighting to save the kingdom! Or maybe Church is the super grumpy coffee shop barista with a crush on the cool tattoo artist across the street! Or maybe it’s the same story we all know… but that one moment played out differently… the universes are infinite!

Day 5: Cycle

History repeats itself, time is a flat circle, however, you want to put it there’s no denying the cycle of Leonard Church and Agent Texas. A story destined to be repeated again and again until it finally breaks… or perhaps they’re just teaching Caboose how to ride a bicycle, who knows!

Day 6: Goodbye

Don’t say goodbye… I hate goodbyes… but at the end of the day, you have to let go and say those dreaded words. You have to accept that some people are truly gone. Or sometimes you just don’t get to say those words at all… or maybe… well actually I don’t know how to make this one silly

Day 7: Free Day

Make whatever you like! It can be anything and everything, maybe expand on a previous idea, create a whole new world, or make something sad or silly or soft! This is your day to shine!

As said before any and all content is welcome in this event! Art, fanfic, meta, analysis, playlists, memes etc! If it’s Chex I’ll take it! My only rule is NO AI GENERATED CONTENT!

The tags for this event will be #chex appreciation week and #chex appreciation week 2024

[future-boi]

「 ガンバレ, ジョージ ! 」

Doctober 2023 prompt #23: Nostalgia

If you know the meme, you're cool 😎👉👉

Otherwise... uh, this was an 90's anime adaptation of Back to the Future 👀 u didn't know?

aight i'll stop the cap 🚫🧢 doesn't it fit so well tho?? did i get the filters right? does it look legit? 👀👀👀

put me in the club of 'not-being-around-during-the-80s-or-90s-but-still-feeling-nostalgic-for-its-aesthetics' cuz this was really fun to work on and kinda imagine being real. listened to j-city pop for peak vibes 🔥

Inspo for this prompt: This. Bruh wouldn't it have been awesome to have an 90's anime adaptation of Back to the Future?? 😩 maybe in a different timeline amirite? It'd have to be either in the Rumiko Takahashi style or Hayao Miyazaki style, nothing else. I ain't playin'

[blackjackkent]

Ask prompt fill for @astreamofstars for this ask meme: Questioning Sentences, Vol. 33 Jaheira/Khalid - "Are you getting my wife into trouble?" Like I said - I had a more comedic idea for this which I'll probably also write, but here's some Harper-era dramafluff first. :D

-----

The blade presses low and tight against the curve of Jaheira’s neck. The assassin smiles coldly. “Not so tough now, are ya, Harper?” he hisses.

Jaheira remains perfectly still, her eyes flicking around rapidly as she examines her position. 

The assassin is a sallow half-elf whose ice-blue eyes are almost obscured by the overhang of his hood. His dark cloak melds him with the shadowy night around them; Jaheira can see the subtle outline of a winged serpent embroidered in his tunic. Zhentarim, then.

She should really have been expecting this, in light of the smuggling operation they just broke up near Waterdeep. It was the largest nest of Zhent they've rooted out in some time and (she sincerely hopes) crippled the group’s slaving operations for the immediate future - but a noise that big doesn't go unnoticed by the sort of people who have sharp knives and are ready to use them. 

And this Zhent knows his business, that’s certain. His weight is carefully distributed across his feet while keeping her pinned to the tree behind her, and the knife is positioned to give her little room to maneuver. He deliberately waited until she had no energy left for a wildshape, and even if she did, she’s not confident her enemy wouldn't be anticipating it. Her pulse quickens with sudden adrenaline as the reality of the danger sets in.

“You have the advantage of me, it seems,” she says, deliberately keeping her voice even and conversational so as not to betray any fear.

The man's smirk deepens unpleasantly. “That's the idea. We know all about ya, y'know… Jaheira. Know ya put together that raid on our people last week. So I've got some payment I need t’ extract.”

If she can just get leverage with one leg, she twist out of his grip… but no. He senses the shift of her weight and moves almost automatically to counterbalance it, his knee shoving against her hip. 

She sighs and swivels her head carefully, trying to look past his shoulder. 

He snorts. “What're ya lookin’ for, girlie?” he asks mockingly. “Gonna call down a flock of birds? Like I said - we know all about you. Why d'you think I chose this moment t’ drop in? I know you do your scouting alone.”

One of Jaheira's eyebrows quirks up and she finally can't help it. She grins. 

“Your information is out of date,” she says.

The Zhent's eyes bug wide and he cries out in startled pain as a heavy boot kicks the back of his knee, staggering him off-balance, followed by a gauntleted sucker punch at the small of his back that stuns him briefly to immobility. Khalid, surging out of the darkness, gets one arm around the man's neck and yanks him backwards; with his other hand, he strikes the Zhent's wrist, knocking the dagger out of his hand. 

“Oh, my,” he says as he hauls the Zhent backwards, giving Jaheira room to slip free of the wall. His voice is almost casual - but Jaheira knows him far too well to be fooled. She can hear the ice in it, and the way his usual nervous stammer has hardened out in the moment of crisis. “Are you getting my wife into trouble?” 

Jaheira snorts. “Getting himself into trouble, more like,” she says, dusting herself off. “Once again we are underestimated.” She clicks her tongue with mock-disappointment. “The last time he will make that mistake.”

“Let me go!” the Zhent growls, his voice strangled by the pressure of Khalid's arm on his throat; the stunned moment is fading and he starts to struggle fiercely in Khalid's grip. 

“As you wish,” Khalid says mildly. With a sharp jerk, he releases the other man and at the same time twists sideways so they're facing each other. Before the Zhent has time to react, Khalid lands a punch directly between his eyes; his head snaps back and he goes over like a felled tree, hits the dirt, and is still. 

Silence, and then the chirp and buzz of insects reasserts itself around them. Jaheira relaxes with a low chuckle. “Well struck.”

“Are you hurt, m-my love?” Khalid asks, turning to face her. His eyes trace searchingly over her from head to foot, looking for signs of injury. 

She smiles affectionately, hearing his stammer return as the moment eases. “I am fine. He had no chance to truly strike me. Besides…” She scoffs dramatically.” I could have handled him.”

“I've n-n-no doubt of it, Khalid says earnestly. “All the same, I'm g-glad I was here.”

“As am I.” In spite of her airy manner, the pulse of adrenaline still sits heavy in her throat, and she takes a few steps closer to him automatically, slipping her hand into his. The warmth of his palm is grounding, comforting. “Much easier with two.”

He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Then he crouches down to begin rifling through the unconscious man's pockets. She raises an eyebrow, seeing that he is grinning giddily to himself as he does so. 

“And just what is that look for?” she asks, amused. 

His head ducks and he gives a sheepish little chuckle that is just this side shy of a giggle. “M-my wife,” he says. “That was the f-f-first time I c-could call you m-m-my wife on a mission.” He looks up at her, his eyes bright and dancing in the dimness. “It f-f-felt wonderful.”

The adoring expression on his face sends a full-body shiver through her. “It did, didn't it?” she murmurs. 

It's still so new, with the wedding only a week behind them. In many ways nothing has changed, but that strange and everpresent delight still lingers in the back of her mind. And it spikes up in little bursts at the oddest times - a word, a glance, a touch, anything that reminds her that the bond is made and she has him for the rest of their lives. 

She ruffles his hair where it peeks from beneath his helmet at the base of his neck, and is gratified to feel his subtle, eager squirm at the touch. “Well then, my husband,” she says with a soft laugh. “Let us get back to camp. Though what a pity we must have an unexpected guest interrupting our privacy for the evening.” She nudges the unconscious Zhent with her boot toe and rolls her eyes. 

“Of all his c-c-crimes, that is surely the m-most grievous,” Khalid says, and laughs. 

[yourlocaltreesimp]

*insert And Another One meme*

Can I. Request a yandere chain with a reader who gifts them flowers just because they can? Or like, them just subtly courting the chain for a change? (minus wind, who they just flat out spoils because he's babey even though he's a gremlin)

And when I say court, I mean like in ways that they're probably not familiar with? Like, the reader makes up a bs excuse about needing their help to see if they can still sing because then rusty, and then singing love songs to them but it's in a language they can't recognize?

Or like, doing tasks for them? Basically acts of service, since that's an old way of courting from my country that can be easily mistaken for them being helpful, but they're just generally more careful and going above and beyond what's asked for them?

- altumsomnum (forgot to add it in the other asks lmao)

Ofc, ofc I think I miss understood the prompt, but take this in case!

TW:ok well there’s some obsession and yandere as expected, blood mentione

Oh how the mighty fall

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’d recently found yourself in quite the predicament. Not necessarily a bad one… Just, odd. Long letters of prose and poetry sealed with royal blue wax from Warriors carefully dancing around his plans to stab the others and run off with you. Quiet afternoons curled up as Sky plays you music keeping you safe and distracted as the others slit the throat of the merchant that insulted you. Ranting to Four about whatever interest snagged your mind, he’d listen for hours at your every beck and call, no matter if the sentiment wasn’t returned. Strolling around villages with Time, knowing you’re safest at his side though you didn’t know how deep their feelings went, they’d do anything at your order. Twilight teaching you how to ride a horse, sharing what knowledge he knew you’d benefit from but also so you wouldn’t be near the fight. Fresh hot meals and deserts from Wild, with some added ingredients to let you sleep so they deal with business. Reading with Hyrule in a calm clearing, uninterrupted by the others but he knows the more time you spend together, the easier it’ll be when he steals you away. Sparring with Legend, finally free to move and fight as the others do as he gauges your strength to see how hard you can fight back.

You supposed the real question was why? You didn’t do anything odd or particularly of note. In comparison to the other options they had (there were none, as if anyone could pretend they held light to your sheer divinity) you felt dim by comparison. Sure, you wanted their affection (you already had them, so much blood has been spilled in your name, their reason for living is found within your company) but between yourself and the incarnation of a goddess fool to think she’s worthy of comparison you didn’t know what prompted their behaviour. It was only until you caught a passing conversation from a village girl to her friend that you realised your fatal mistake. This wasn’t Earth. Looking back on your behaviours you felt embarrassed. You’d spent hours reading and writing poetry with Warriors when you found his passion in it. You didn’t question the blush on his cheeks when you read his poetry on love- you knew he loved the romance novels. You asked Sky to play his harp when you were doing chores and even got in the habit of singing softly when you found yourself willing. You turned a blind eye to the look of sheer endearment and adoration when you looked up from whatever you busied yourself with. You’d listened to Four go on and on about the Minish after he found their numbers dwindled in the future. He’d cried, you held him, he went on and on about each and every tiny detail of his journey, pouring his heart out in a way that he was only ever used to doing when split. You welcomed him with open arms the next time he asked if you could talk. You ran whatever errands with Time that he asked, knowing his aversion to such large crowds with no company. You thought the silent agreement to stick with one another in busy cities was forged in the mistrust of the environment you found yourself surrounded with, not out of any further attraction. You entertained the idea of learning to ride a horse to get closer with the group, bridge the gap the lay between you. You didn’t catch Twilight as he noted how quickly you caught on, how easily you’d adapt to Ordon, especially with your compassion. You helped Wild with the cooking mainly because you wanted to be useful, but from what you’ve seen, he always managed to make simple tasks entertaining. He, meanwhile, was falling over himself at the fact that someone is willing to help him, let alone out of the goodness of their heart, let alone you who he’d lay down lives for. Reading with Rulie so you could learn a little more about their lives and culture as he saw you preparing to live out the rest of your days in the Hyrules. Asking Leg for help fighting because you knew he’d be the only one who wouldn’t hold back, while he enjoyed being closer with you, having the excuse to finally be near you without any glares. Looking back, you see why they acted as they did.

BONUS:

In long and short, the chain did a lot for you, for your affections. And it really began to bother you that they never accepted anything in return. They never took thanks, for it is what was ‘expected’ of courting, and yet you felt as if there was more to be done. And so, you decided on a plan. You’d simply have to be stubborn. It was rewarding to see blushes tinting their cheeks as they read the letters you’d written for them in turn. Watching their eyes light up as you goth them all jewellery, tokens that they treasured more than anything Hylia had given them. Finding excuses to take them all on dates and seeing their hearts squeeze.

[phoenixyfriend]

If you still do the ask meme: nr.1 for a timetravel Jangosoka?

26 Family Prompts Ask Meme

Accidental Baby Acquisition

This contains both intentional and accidental acquisition. (They'll give it back! Probably.)

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

"He's mine."

Jango looks at the woman he has, somehow, managed to fall for.

He looks at the baby.

He looks at her again.

"You adopted? Without asking me?"

"No, birthed him myself."

That baby is human. Fully human. There is no chance, in any way, that Ahsoka managed to have a fully human child. There's some shit about placentas or whatever. A tog can't surrogate a human and vice versa.

"Jetii--"

"Oh, I'm in trouble," she giggles, entirely too enthused about his annoyance.

"Jetii," he tries again, "please tell me you didn't steal a child."

"I did not steal a child," she confirms. "I just... acquired one."

"Acquired one."

"Yeah."

He waits in vain. He breaks and asks, "Ahsoka, how did you acquire this child?"

She smiles at him.

--

The child's name is Ferus Olin. He was not stolen, but given willingly by his parents for Ahsoka to take to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

"You could have just said so," Jango gripes as he fires up the engines. She laughs at him, and hikes the tot higher on her hip. "Don't act like it's not within the realm of possibility that you'd randomly pick up a kid and forget to warn me about it."

"Sure," she says, "but consider this: it was funny."

"You are not nearly as funny as you think you are."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes and addresses the kid instead. "What do you think, Ferus? Am I funny?"

The toddler--baby, really--stares up at her silently. There is something up with that kid, but Jango figures that's par for the course with Force Sensitives.

A slightly wet, very chubby hand lands on a lekku.

"That is saliva," Jango notes aloud, mostly because Ahsoka looks a little disgusted, and likes she's trying to hide it from the kid. "Baby drool."

"Oh, fu--shove off."

"Classy."

--

So like. Here's the thing. About carting around two almost-Jedi:

One of them is his age, and hot, and weird, and he's a little bit in love with her.

The other one is less than a year old, and should be relatively safe and sound to leave alone for five minutes while napping so they can do things like use the bathroom, or argue over the nav, or knock against the walls doing things that babies probably shouldn't know about.

Ahsoka says that Ferus was a rule-abiding guy in the future, uptight, even.

This means nothing, because the ship jolts out of hyperspace without warning while Jango's got his hand up a hot tog's skirt, and they both have to rush to the cockpit to find the literal baby has crawled onto the pilot's seat and somehow turned off the nav.

The baby continues patting, full-palm, at the controls.

"What the fuck?" Jango demands.

"Language," Ahsoka sniffs, and then picks up the baby and swings him around. "Who's a little troublemaker? You are!"

"What the actual--"

"Language!" Ahsoka snaps, a little harsher this time. "There's a baby."

"Yes, I noticed, it just knocked us out of hyperspace."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. "It's fine. We just need to keep a better eye on him."

"This could have been deadly."

"Eh, doubt it," she dismisses. "I mean, with a normal kid, yeah, but I bet you ten to one odds that he did this because the Force told him to."

"I cannot explain how much that doesn't fill me with confidence."

She ignores him. She settles into the chair, toddler on her lap, and closes her eyes. This lasts for several minutes, and Jango tries to keep his impatience under control so he doesn't 'project' it into the Force or whatever it is that the Jedi are worried about. It would distract Ahsoka, and possibly more importantly, it would upset the baby.

"I've got it," she finally says. "A direction. He pulled us out a bit early, but the fact that we didn't overshoot it is a bit of a shocker in and of itself."

"A direction to what?"

She shrugs. "We'll find out."

--

The direction is to a fresh-faced teenage Duros by the name of Cad Bane, who's been floating around the guild's gossip lines for a few years now. He's good, for eighteen, but Jango hasn't met him before, and Ahsoka really doesn't like him--Jedi don't hate, supposedly--and that's enough for Jango to have zero interest in really networking here.

Also, Bane has a stolen toddler. Jango knows the toddler is stolen, because she's dressed in far-too-fancy clothes for Bane to bother with, and screaming her head off, and trying to bite him, and yelling about how she wants to go home. Surprisingly eloquent for a toddler, actually. She can't be more than four.

Jango wants to get involved. He's itching for a fight. He does not get one.

He gets the smaller baby, and is told to take care of said baby and be ready to catch the bigger baby--toddler--while Ahsoka handles the fighting.

It seems kinda personal. Jango leaves her to it. It's not like they need both of them to fight this literal teenager.

(He's right. They don't.)

--

There are now two small children on Jango's ship. One of them is barely-almost a toddler, and the other is barely-almost not.

"I am Padme Naberrie of Naboo," the little girl tells him, all care and important grandeur. "Thank you for saving me. When may I return home?"

Naboo. The noble kids from there are damn creepy. Also worth a good ransom or a better bounty, to some. It's not exactly surprising that Bane went for one of them. the family must be pretty influential somehow.

"Not sure," Ahsoka says. "We were on our way to Coruscant... do you have a number we can call? Maybe one of your parents can meet us on the way."

"That is ac-cep-table," the little girl sounds out. She even bows, a touch wobbly. "Thank you, Master Jedi."

Ahsoka is not a Master, and is only sort of a Jedi. She does not correct little Padme, because that would be a little mean, in Jango's estimate. The girl's just been through something harrowing, and even he's not that much of a dick.

"Do you know their contact info?" he asks instead.

--

They aren't on a convenient hyperlane for Naboo, so they're meeting Lady Naberrie on Corellia. It's several days there, which is still faster than trying to get to Naboo from where they currently are, and Padme spends an hour or two talking to her mother before the woman enters hyperspace and comms are no longer an option. Then she talks to her father, and asks about someone called Sola, and Jango's not paying enough attention to keep track of who's who in the life of a child that is not his.

He doesn't have enough beds on the ship for this.

He empties out a small armor crate and lines it with blankets, then sets it on teh floor by the end of his bed. It's big enough for Ferus, who probably doesn't care much for fancy things. Padme gets her own bed, because they're strangers and it would be odd to suggest she share with Ahsoka as a gender thing. The other, larger bed is then for Jango and his somewhat irritating and entirely too lovely Jedi.

He laces his fingers with hers, once they're in bed, autopiloting down the hyperlane. Padm's breathing has finally evened out, and Ferus hasn't woken up yet either.

"Do you want them?" he asks.

"Hm?" Ahsoka shifts, and when she speaks, it's sleep-heavy and muddled. "Want what?"

"Kids," he says.

She's silent, long enough that he starts to wonder if she's fallen asleep, but eventually she shrugs. "I'll take an apprentice one day, probably."

It's basically the same thing, for Jedi.

"Did I ever..."

He tries not to ask too much about his personal future. He knows how Galidraan would have ended, and knows that somehow, he had been involved in a clone army that tried to kill Ahsoka when she was seventeen. She tries not to tell him too much.

"One," she says. "Boba. A few years younger than me. And..."

She doesn't finish.

"And?"

"Maybe another time," she says.

He's gotten that response more than once. He knows it for the wall it is.

"Alright," he says. "You could... tell me about Boba in the morning?"

"Maybe."

Noncommittal. He's not entirely surprised.

"Okay," he finally says. He presses a kiss to her lek. "Goodnight, Ahsoka."

"Night, Jango."

[dwarfstaralloy]

"welcome to my latest experiment!"

meme: back to the future prompts status: accepting (from mutuals)

The bright eyed excitement on his daughter's face made him want to smile in return. Ray slowly surveyed her work, his grin turning strained. His internal first reaction had been right. Something was going to explode. "Good job, kiddo." His enthusiasm was clearly forced. "Maybe we should switch it off now?"

[writelikeyouarerunningoutof]

where the hell are they? (Kira)

meme: back to the future prompts status: accepting (from mutuals)

The kitsune glanced at the other woman briefly before turning back forward. "They'll be here." She had to hold on to that, or the panic she was barely holding at bay would take over. "They'll be here soon."

[cfv-week]

We're back for the third time! Here are the how to, rules and prompts for Cardfight Vanguard Prompt Week 2024! Mark October 7th - 13th in your calendars!

How it works:

Chose a prompt that speaks to you and create something related to that theme. You can also combine several prompts if you so chose.

Post your creation on the day the prompt is assigned to, right here on tumblr.

Tag the post with #cfvweek2024

We will reblog all contributions in the tag onto this blog. Make sure to follow us so you can see them all!

If you post fanfiction to AO3, add them to the collection "CFV Prompt Week 2024".

Any and all sorts of contributions are welcome. Fanart, fanfictions, edits, moodboards, memes, playlists, headcanon posts, gifs etc.

If you end up missing the date of the prompt, don’t worry! We accept late entries as well.

Rules:

Please note that this week is specifically for the original CFV, CFV G and the V series reboot (which includes Shinemon and IF). This means no Overdress. Apologies to Overdress lovers, but it’s the former series that we want to keep alive in the present age.

We don't accept AI-generated content.

NSFW (violence, gore, M or E rated fics and such) content is allowed, but only if tagged appropriately.

You're welcome to combine your entries for this event with any other prompt events, writing or art challenges you want to participate in, such as Whumptober, Fictober, Flufftober, Omnious October etc.

Transcription of prompts under the cut:

Day 1: Favorite Minor Character | Sick Fic | Pets

Favorite Minor Character:

We Vanguard fans are SERIOUS about our side characters! Let's show some love to the fantastic characters that were given a jarring lack of content in the series! Maybe your favorite character overall is a member of the main cast, but now it's time to pick somebody from the sidelines to appreciate just as much!

Sick Fic:

What a classic we've got here today, folks. You don't necessarily have to write a fic for this (though it's totally encouraged)! Just create anything you want involving those down days. Characters getting sick in fiction can help show off so many neat and hidden traits, so be creative and make whatever you see fit (or not fit, because somebody is sick)!

Pets:

PETS! What more could you even ask for? We've got only a few pets to thrive off of in the show, so lets show some love to them… or maybe think up some original ones! Maybe somebody has a secret pet, or maybe there was a random line of dialogue about a pet at some point? Who knows what could happen, but it ought to be great.

Day 2: Favorite Team | PSYqualia | Memories

Favorite Team:

We've got SO many to choose from! And not even just the main teams like Q4 and TRY3; how about silly little teams like the iconic Miwa-Morikawa-Izaki-Emi squad? Go wild! Whether it be a competitive Vanguard playing team, or just characters that work well together, there's bound to be some really great teams to make stuff for!

PSYqualia:

Now here's something real intriguing… PSYQualia was the fictional power used to communicate with the Planet Cray and the illustrated cards that came from it, but it had drawbacks. Will you represent it in its corruptive origins, or its positive future? Go for it!

Memories:

I'm sure everyone has some kind of fond memories that came from Vanguard, or maybe you'll want to represent how memories are presented by the characters! A large amount of the series revolves around memories, surprisingly enough- Misaki's whole life is pretty much centered around them, and Seasons 2 and 4 seriously threw us for a doozy. Let's make this a day to remember!

Day 3: Favorite Outfit | Fluff | Magic AU

Favorite Outfit:

YIPPEE!!! Maybe that's a little exaggerated, but c'mon- who doesn't love a good outfit. Vanguard's got some seriously cool fits, if not just for the characters, then on the card art! Look around and find your inspiration, or maybe even create an outfit you'd think would be a fan favorite!

Fluff:

No one could ever lie and say they don't like fluff. Sweetness, love, care, and everything in-between. It can be soft, tooth-rotting, comforting! Do as you please and pick out your favorite fantasies for this one, we're sure it'll be more than appreciated.

Magic AU

Vanguard has its fair share of magical elements! But what if they got taken in slightly different way, a step to the left? Or maybe even a leap! Are they all wizardly figures? Magical girls? Maybe there's just something 'magical' in the air? Go wild, throw out a magic-based alternate universe!

Day 4: Favorite Relationship | Betrayal | Cray & Lore

Favorite Relationship:

Besties, lovers, enemies, and everything in-between, everyone loves a compelling relationship. But which one is your favorite? Are you enamored with the way some characters hate each other? Or maybe you just really want to show off your favorite ship! Pick your favorite Vanguard relationship, and if you have multiple? The more the merrier!

Betrayal:

Uh oh… There's no shortage of evil in Vanguard, and betrayal can come from anywhere. Does it coincide with the Reverse, PSYqualia, or maybe just human nature? Pick an act of betrayal or make up your own, because - no matter what, it's gonna hurt real good.

Cray and Lore:

The planet Cray is SO COOL and SO UNEXPLORED! Delve deep into the lore of the planet, or think up something fresh and cool for it! Blaster Blade and Dragonic Overlord are only the tip of this awesome iceberg, and there's endless things to explore!

Day 5: Favorite Episode | Family | Birthday

Favorite Episode:

Can you even believe there's 196 episodes JUST in the original run, and hundreds more after that? With all that Vanguard, you're bound to have some favorite episodes! Let's all skim through the runs and pick a favorite to represent, there's so so so many to enjoy!

Family:

Family comes in all shapes and sizes, and the Vanguard characters became a family over and over again, without a doubt. Choose a family in Vanguard, by blood or not, to create for, and enjoy!

Birthday:

We've got TWO BIRTHDAYS THIS WEEK! Today is Mamoru Anjou's birthday, and Kourin Tatsunagi's is on the 13th of October! Show them some extra love, or maybe pick another birthday to celebrate! We love our characters, and their birthdays, whether fictional or not, are always fun.

Day 6: Favorite Clan | Crossover | Secret Identity

Favorite Clan:

I know, I know… This might be an impossible task. But we have to try! Pick a Vanguard clan that you can call your favorite, and show it some appreciation! This can extend out to newer or old standards of clan systems, in any way you like!

Crossover:

Vanguard has endless opportunities to pair up with other series, it's all pretty open! Crossovers are ALWAYS FUN, and it's refreshing to play with other media that we also love! Maybe one of your favorite shows has Vanguard cards in it now, or maybe Vanguard characters are in the book you're reading or new anime you're watching! Who knows, have fun!

Secret Identity:

Oooh… A secret! There's already representation of this trope in Vanguard plenty of times! Remember Ninja Master M, and the Team Unknown debacle? The time Kyou was the Abominable Snowman? Maybe even make up your own, go wild! Whether it's online or behind a mask, there's plenty of ways to hide your identity. But remember- it's a secret!

Day 7: Favorite Parallel | Endings & New Beginnings | FREE

Favorite Parallel:

Contrasting motives in media is probably one of the most exciting things I could ever think of. What contrasts and parallels do you see in Vanguard? Blaster Dark and Blaster Blade, perhaps? Character arcs, episode structures, the lore of the cards and the journey of our protagonists... There's parallels everywhere. Delve deep for this one, and find something really interesting to analyze!

Endings and New Beginnings:

Vanguard has some of our absolute favorite endings and beginnings ever, so why not go ahead and show them off? The transition of each arc, each era, each generation, is something to be celebrated. May it be the end of a big tournament, or the beginning of a new season altogether, or something totally different and unexpected!

FREE!

YOU'RE FREE! Do literally anything you want for this last day of CFV Week! Doodle assisticat, make a cool edit, take a picture of your CFV merch, throw out a moodboard, write a 200k word fic (okay, maybe don't try to do that in just one day). But, whatever you choose to do, let's end this week with a bang!

We cannot wait to see what you guys come up with!

Lots of Love, the mod team

PS: Don't forget to use #cfvweek2024 so we can easily find your contributions!

Additionally, you can tag us if you’d like, to make sure we see your posts!

[timebegins-onopeningday]

Collection is closed....

And we had: 202 prompts; 114 fills; off the top of mod's head at least 7 different types of fills, including 4 different kinds of fanart; I lost track of how many teams but at least 10 + several original works; I don't know how many pairings or characters represented but it was a pretty wide variety across teams, all things considered.

We killed it this year! I'm so proud of all of you for getting involved, finishing works, trying new formats, taking risks with new kinds of art and writing, HAVING FUN, and generally making this one of my favorite prompt memes to run. I've had a blast all year with you and I think we are well fortified for the offseason.

In lieu of doing a round up post, I have one last little mod challenge for you all this year: read/view/engage with at least 10 works by December 31st. Bang that kudos button, leave a comment, and let the creators know what you think! Baseball RPF can be a quiet fandom when it comes to engagement and I'd love to see us show out for everyone who participated.

Time Begins on Opening Day 2025 will be back on March 27. There will be a handful of rule changes and at least one adjustment to the deadlines but overall, the format will be the same and dates largely similar to this one.

Thank you for your amazing energy, your passion, and your creativity this year 🧡 This format was a big leap of faith for your mod too and I couldn't be more happy with how it turned out. It's been amazing spending this year with you all and I can't wait to see what the future brings.

Time Begins on Opening Day 2024: a baseball RPF prompt meme for everybody

[joyce-stick]

An Essay About Slash Review of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, A Video Game Which is Very Good

(and also: has prompted many quite wrong rather bad takes)

An essay by Audrey of the joystick system

The very bad discourse and drama around The Coffin of Andy and Leyley has served to obscure the simple fact that it is quite a very good video game and this video essay is here to tell you about that.

Video version:

Previous video essay: Lost Judgment's Lost Plot

If you enjoy this essay, please consider following us here or on any other platforms, and/or donating to support future works via our Patreon or Ko-fi.

Patreon • Ko-fi • YouTube • Twitter • Cohost • Tumblr • Bluesky

Transcript:

Hi everyone. So. The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is really, really fucking good.

If you’ve heard of this game, you’ve probably heard of it in the context of memes, screenshots divorced from context, and/or capricious moral outrage. If you’ve not heard of this game, well, you’re hearing of it now! And good thing, too, because much of the coverage and discussion around this game that already exists has… been, let’s just say, not particularly earnest. I hope to remedy that at least somewhat with this video.

If you’ve heard about this game because of discourse, and come here expecting drama and hot takes, then, this may not be your video. Or your YouTube channel, even. Or maybe it is, if you’d like the delicious comments section. If you’re that sort of clicker, though— welcome! I’m Audrey of the joystick system, and this is the place where I (and my headmates) talk honestly about things we care about, and I hope you’ll hear me out a little and maybe consider staying and improving our viewer retention. Thanks, if you do.

So, to writ: My purpose today is to gush. I will be gushing here. For most of it. And as for what I will be gushing about, some of it will be gushing BLOOD, GUTS, AND DELICIOUS DEATH. I am entirely serious. The subject of today’s presentation contains mature content, including copious foul language and themes slash depictions of death, cannibalism, cultism, demon summoning rituals, parricide, dystopian social decay, and heterosexuality. Oh, and also a little bit of incest as a treat, I guess, but the incest is heterosexual, and that’s worse.

[long pause]

Excellent. You’re still here. So. This morbidly beautiful video game may not be for everyone, but that’s good, because it is instead for exactly me! A short plot synopsis of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley might go as follows:

if you're not watching the video listen to this for extra effect

Siblings Andrew and Ashley Graves are forcibly quarantined inside their apartment by the local authorities, with no food and even less hope for rescue. Their parents have abandoned them. Absolutely no one is coming to save them. In order to survive and escape this awful situation, they butcher and consume the fresh flesh of some guy who got himself soul vored by a demon that he summoned without a plan.

This conspicuously carnivorous crime, and their effort to cover their tracks, puts them in a fair bit of a deeper shithole than they are already in. So naturally they keep digging themselves deeper by committing even more crimes, AND in the process, also dig themselves deeper into their toxic codependent sibling relationship, which is going just great, thank you. Sure, Andrew almost killed his sister, but he didn’t, and that’s what matters! And she still loves him, so it’s all good!

This is of course a joke.

First thing I absolutely love about this game is the writing. It’s witty, intelligent, uncompromising, and just generally delicious. It holds nothing back in depicting the toxicity of the two leads and their relationship, resulting in two compelling characters whose flaws and few virtues perfectly complement slash exacerbate one another, resulting in a beautiful train wreck of a relationship dynamic that proves equal parts disturbing, mesmerizing, and hilarious.

The charming darkly comedic bite of the writing style also lends a lot of great character to the setting. This sardonically presented dystopian world is both richly detailed and fleetingly elaborated on, a commendable balance to have achieved, in my opinion. The first chapter of this game is hilarious not just because of the banter between Ashley and Andrew (which is terrific), but because it presents such a sharp satire of current year bullshit.

As just an example, I give you, one of my favorite jokes in the game:

I probably don’t need to explain the thing this is making fun of to you, but I will anyway.

The situation presented in The Coffin of Andy and Leyley’s first episode is very easily readable as an allegory for how disasters that are a direct result of ongoing 2020s late capitalist decay continuously fuck people over. In particular, this scenario feels like a direct commentary on both the COVID-19 pandemic as well as the Flint, Michigan water crisis. The former obviously has affected way more people but what both have in common is that they are crises created and exacerbated by malfeasance and/or negligence committed in the name of for-profit interests, and that the “response,” to them, such as there was one, has amounted to dehumanizing and marginalizing the victims while minimizing the issue, forcing the victims out of society’s wider view, and being reticent to punish the individuals responsible. 

Just as the authorities responded to the water crisis and the worst excesses of the pandemic in real life, the authorities in The Coffin of Andy and Leyley impose half-measures designed to further restrict the freedom of the dirty undesirables who bear the worst damages, while merely shielding the upper echelons of society from the disaster rather than actually addressing or attempting to solve the issue. Most of you who lived through 2020 in the United States probably have experienced the frustration of being on the receiving end of this kind of policy.

During the pandemic, the quarantine was supposed to protect us, but for a lot of people it ended up doing quite the opposite. A lot of folks didn’t have any savings, and couldn’t get any since the employment market wasn’t exactly on fire, and our representatives had to be bothered way too much just to put out a pithy economic stimulus just to save face. Not to say that this all has stopped, exactly, as all that’s changed now is that we’re just, living with this situation, but.

It wasn’t literally a cop outside everyone’s door preventing them from going outside to not die, but for a lot of people, it might as well have been that! Never mind those who, y’know, had no inside to retreat to. Or were imprisoned during the pandemic and left even more unprotected! Or thrown out by their landlords! And so on. And, y’know, the big chain grocery stores keep throwing out all the perfectly good unsold food, so they’re already sending this message in all but, well… these exact words.

So, that’s why I think this joke lands. It’s exaggerated, but familiarly rooted, and that’s just good satire! It’s a joke which feels lifted right out of Invader Zim, which, I would put The Coffin of Andy and Leyley right about on the level of as far as both the tone it’s going for and the quality of its execution. Which of course, brings us to the extremes that these circumstances push its characters, and its plot, to.

Okay, so, also like Invader Zim, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is hardly a polemic, nor is it a morality tale. Sure, there’s social commentary in it, but that’s just a nice side thing. It’s not a story about the otherwise innocent victims of an unjust society who are pushed to do terrible things by circumstances outside their control— it is, rather a story of terrible people, who, both because of their character failings, and the desperate situations they find themselves in, find themselves doing even worse things.

Andrew and Ashley commit the cannibalism the first time in large part because they kind of have to do it. No food! Cop outside their door actively deterring them from getting food! Out of options! So they do it. They could probably be excused, if only they were given a fair trial. Which they realize they’re not going to get. So yeah. It’s understandable that they do it. And that they kill this one cop, who very much has it coming.

But they do not have to keep doing it! And gosh grief, do they keep fucking doing it— so many its. They really do not stop digging that hole that they are in. Even the first time that they do the cannibalism, when they kind of really have to do the cannibalism, Ashley is just a little bit more excited about doing the cannibalism than she probably should be.

I love this kind of delicious edgy dark humor. I love stories that go for it, imagine the worst possible people they can, and also try to make that funny. I love this about Invader Zim, that it presents a character who is unquestionably a monster, but also has relatable human desires like wanting to fit in and being concerned about looking weird or abnormal, but has those feelings for very different reasons and acts on them by committing some very despicable crimes. It really gets at a deep-seated darkness that I and a lot of other fucked up traumatized queer people who were little kids when this show aired have, the catharsis of visualizing some of our worst intrusive thoughts while evoking the emotions that pushed us to imagine this kind of fucked up shit.

I’ve loved this kind of thing since we saw Heathers when we were 14. Heathers is an absolutely incredible film that you should check out, by the way, and about which we failed to properly or interestingly articulate our thoughts a few years back. Its lead protagonists, Jason “J.D.” Dean and Veronica Sawyer, are similarly relatable characters who have familiar feeling flaws and emotionally resonant trauma hangups, and also function as very toxic enablers of each other’s worst traits, leading them to work through those feelings by, y’know, murdering their classmates!

Heathers made us realize just how exactly mentally ill of a 14 year old we really were when we were 14, and I love it for that. So. So fucking much.

That was ten years and change ago.

We are still a mentally ill 24 year old.

And Andrew and Ashley Graves, if I had to sum them up, are basically J.D. and Veronica, if they were in their twenties, siblings, and also way, way, way worse.

And I love them.

So, obviously. Ashley and Andrew are hilarious. At least, I find them to be such. They’re terrible, and awful, and amazing, and Ashley is such a girlboss. She is one of the most God Forbid Women Do Anything characters ever.

Anyway! I’ve talked about the cannibalism, and the dystopia, and the characters, and why all of that’s good. I’ve also forgotten to talk about the part where they evade an assassin, and, also a host of other things.

I love that this game has so many fun little optional interactions with NPCs, objects, and items, that you can totally miss. I love how the narration hints at the solutions to puzzles by snarkily referring to things you can interact with as what their purpose is to the characters rather than what they are, this quip about the mop that you clean up a murder scene with, the interactions that Andrew has with these cultists who suck at demon summoning, the excellent in-game art and the brilliant visual duality of Andrew and Ashley’s character designs, this line where Andrew is upset that life is so hard for them as fugitives from the law because they can only find this one shitty motel that takes cash and doesn’t ask them for their ID, and also the music, which is royalty free music made by people unassociated with the developer but is nonetheless perfectly suited for the game.

So much about this game is stuff I find so completely brilliant, and I have so little to criticize, that I think we’d probably be here all day if I kept going. So.

Let’s spend a thousand ish more words talking about the parents.

When The Coffin of Andy and Leyley begins, the protagonists’ parents are absent. You can optionally find two early references to them early on— one, if you interact with the bed in their bedroom, and encounter the shocking revelation that “Your parents have FUCKED on this bed.”

The second, is if you interact with the phone, the game dutifully informs you that,

You’re probably less than five minutes into the game at this point, barely begun solving the first puzzle, which prompted you to “find nutrients to not die.” And of course, this says about all you need to know. These children have been abandoned. But if it needed to be any clearer, the game later delivers unto you a flashback to prior in the story, when Ashley desperately calls Mrs. Graves for help after they leave and go move to a hotel, and later a new house, to which the kids are of course not invited. And this specific scene, specific line, here, fucking hit me:

“And I don’t want to hear these lies about starving anymore.”

Emphasis mine.

Even as Ashley and Andrew escalate the severity of their crimes which gradually come to have less and less to do with their need to survive as the story goes on, I find it very hard to not be on their side at least a little bit, and this is easily the biggest reason why.

I have had this phone call.

Not this exact specific phone call, of course. Obviously, I’ve never been locked up in an apartment with an armed patrol outside my door whose job it was to gaslight me while ensuring that I starved to death. Obviously, my mom has never said those exact words.

But gosh grief and fuck me if it’s never felt like she has. She may as well have fucking told me that, with all the things she told me I was lying about. And who fucking knows, maybe she did say those exact words to us, and we repressed them. I don’t know. I am very not done working through all the bullshit that she gaslit us over.

*sighs, preparing to vent*

I have called our mother and had to beg her to pay for food. I have called her and had to beg to pay for our rent, while our parents were supposed to be supporting us studying abroad. I have called her and begged her to forgive me for daring to use just a few of the thirty dollars our parents used to send us to live with every month back then, to buy a drink or a movie ticket or something. I have had to concede to our parents financially holding us hostage, had to go the last week of the month on a shoestring diet while waiting for them to graciously deposit another thirty dollars into our bank account... so that we could continue eating. I used to relish February, the shortest month, for being the one part of the year in which I had to stretch out that thirty dollars the least. And once, I pleaded with our mother to pay for us to move to another apartment when the landlord suddenly kicked us out of the current one, abruptly and obligatorily switching gears from arguing with her to kissing her ass through our gritted teeth, under threat of our parents cutting off their financial support of us completely, abandoning us in a foreign country where we had no money, no job, and barely spoke the language.

And one day, after I stopped dancing to their tune, they just stopped listening, stopped even pretending to want to help. After nineteen years of escalating emotional and physical abuse and neglect, they abandoned us. And one day, after I spent months working 10 hour days every week Ubering food around for tips, sending my resume, filling applications, making calls, stopping into places to ask for work, all to no avail, for months, and desperately plugging the Patreon page of this very YouTube channel praying that some generous soul with money to burn would solve all our problems. All of this still wasn’t enough, and wasn’t going anywhere, and I’d run out of money and was short on rent on the one sublet room we could get that cost exactly three hundred dollars…

And I called her, and I asked her for help. I really didn’t want to. I wanted to hear nothing of her again. And she said to stop lying. To stop bullshitting her that I couldn’t get enough money, or find a job.

Not too long after, I swore off all contact with her, and eventually also with our father. And every time I have spoken to either of them since, I have made no secret of how I feel. Because if I get nothing out of kissing their ass, why fucking pretend.

My family is not poor. They own their house. They own, and leased out, a second house. Their house is full of fancy IKEA furniture and various other niceties, they’ve renovated the place at least twice, they live in a nice, safe neighborhood, they have an attic and a basement, they at one point paid for multiple plane tickets for us per year while still refusing to let us eat on any more than thirty five dollars, an extra five dollars we also had to beg them for. Our dad has a lucrative tech job. All of this, and they insisted, while refusing to answer questions about their finances in any detail, that they couldn’t afford to help us go to where we wanted to go for college, that they had no place for us in their house, that they couldn’t afford three hundred dollars of rent to help us have a roof over our head for one more month.

So when I read this delightful jaunt of a chapter of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, where Andrew and Ashley break into their parents’ new huge house to steal all their shit, and Ashley says “This is some rich people stuff!” about their fireplace,

And when their mom says, “there’s no room to keep housing you here indefinitely,” and the internal monologue says, “even though it’s way bigger than the old house.” It’s both an entertaining mockery of the attitude of the typical American family, how first you’re your parents’ property for eighteen years and then you’re turned out on your own to face the world without their support, and how the fuck are you supposed to live like that, to figure out how to live your life in the face of that, to meaningfully be a fulfilled person in that situation, especially in a time, when, no, mom, I can’t pay a college tuition on a waitress salary like you did back in the fucking nineties, you c--t,

Even though they have an extra bed in their basement and a perfectly good couch and plenty of space for another bed besides, and a vegetable garden, and a kitchen, and all these other middle-class petty bougie niceties, the Graves mom says, “sorry, we can’t keep helping you,” and. And. I read all this, and I think,

“I understand why Ashley wants to fucking flay these people. I understand why she wants to K1!L them.”

I cannot tell you how much catharsis the ending of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley episode 2 gave me. I cannot convey the weight of my gratitude that someone out there validated my anger and my specific fucked up power fantasy with their art. I didn’t even ask them to. I probably would’ve eventually done it on my own. But I’m so glad that someone did it for me.

If I ever hypothetically meet Nemlei, somehow, and have some cash, I will happily buy them a drink. Hopefully, by paying this excellent game’s ten dollar cover price, I already have!

I know you’re not watching this, but on the off chance this reaches your ears, I just wanna say thanks. For giving me a safe, legal, regret-free, socially acceptable, non-violent outlet for the rage I feel towards my parents.

Well.

Mostly socially acceptable.

Meow.

This game is not finished, as you may have noticed if you’ve gone to check it out on Steam. It ends on an ambiguous and open note, but in my opinion, a perfectly satisfying one. Nemlei could disappear absolutely, never release the proper ending of this game, and never make another game again, and I would not be mad. I've already got more than my money’s worth and then some. So. Yeah. I’m happy. Count me as happy!

I kinda wanna start talking a bit more about the branches of the second episode. I wanna say how it’s a brilliant idea to have two separate story arcs for the two variations of this episode’s ending, and how I hope that that’s executed on as beautifully as the rest of the game already is. I wanna talk about the ways in which Andrew and Ashley’s mom is ambiguously humanized despite being so obviously terrible. I wanna talk about the dialogue Andrew does when his parents offer him a chance to make amends, and he has doubts, if you choose to let him have them, and how I would probably also have doubts in his position, and not be able to follow through without my lovely evil cannibal sister pushing me towards… the thing. I wanna talk about this line, where Ashley talks about why she likes eating people, and how it’s so equal parts poetic and macabre and edgy bullshit and that that’s such a beautifully balanced cocktail of emotion to nail and Nemlei totally fucking nails it

I WANT TO GUSH FOREVER. ABOUT THIS GAME. AND I WANT NO ONE TO STOP ME.

Alas, I will stop myself.

And move on to the elephant in the room!

THE FUCKING.

Mom: “But that-.... That doesn’t make any sense.” Mom: “Why would you not-......” Mom: “Ah, I get it.” Andrew: “..........??” Mom: “You fuck her.” Andrew: “Wha— HUUUUH?!?!!?” Mom: “Oh that is disgusting! Andrew, she’s your sister for god’s sake!” Andrew: “I haven’t done anything!? What the hell, mom!?” Mom: “Then what does she give you that makes it worth all this?” Andrew: “W-well that’s none of your business, is it??” Mom: “I knew something was off… How did I fuck up so bad? I’m the worst mother ever..!” Andrew: “No! I mean yes you are, but I have never—!” Ashley: “I’m baaaa-ack!!!” Andrew: “Now of all times!?” Ashley: “I got the money! Did you miss me, handsome?? Did you? Did you??” Mom: “...........................” Andrew: “(I WANT TO DIE!!!!!!)”

Okay. So. I said I didn’t want to talk about this. But I’m talking about this game. I can’t not talk about it.

Yep, it’s hot takes and drama time!

So, not too long ago, Nemlei deleted their Twitter, their Itch.io, their everything, their entire online presence. The Steam page for The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, which used to list Nemlei as the developer and publisher, now lists “Kit9 Studio.” It is the only game to their name on the platform. A community forum post from said entity known as Kit9 announces that “the developer” (no name given) “has decided to permanently and completely terminate their activities online from here on.”

I don’t know exactly what happened, or why they did this. There’s a lot of people around who sure think they know. But in brief, as neutrally as possible: Nemlei, or someone close to them, was doxxed, or at least sought out as a doxxing target, by one or multiple users of an online forum. Their supposed crime? Making a video game “for degenerates.”

I don’t know who did the doxxing. I don’t know what their motive was, and for my own sanity, I am not going to look. I am choosing not to care. The most important and most obvious fact at hand here is that Nemlei’s creation has been met with controversy amongst social media users, and about one or two hack video game outrage journalists, who seem to have nothing better to do or say. And it seems clear that the doxxing wouldn’t have happened had they not been met with this negative attention. And all because of this.

Not the cannibalism, not the parricide, not the demon sacrifices. No, um, the one implied sex scene.

And it doesn’t even actually happen! It’s just a premonition of a possible future event that Ashley and Andrew supernaturally receive. It’s not particularly graphic, it doesn’t yet go anywhere, and it’s a short scene on an optional route that the game actively forewarns you about. You have to be trying to see it on purpose.

Well, that’s all true. It is indeed a minor and avoidable scene, and the discourse about it has absolutely poisoned the well when it comes to the conversation about the game. But also, “uhh, it’s optional and not a big thing,” is inadequate as a defense. This is still content in the game that Nemlei actively chose to put in the game, and even discounting this, the themes of incest are all over the game. Ashley speaks flirtatiously to Andrew at basically every turn. Even if you avoid this specific scene, the incest themes are not something you’re going to just not notice, if you’re paying attention to the text.

All that being said, it’s not like this content comes as a surprise. The Coffin of Andy and Leyley’s Steam store page accurately represents the product! A brother and sister. Codependency and cannibalism. It’s not as if you don’t know what you’re paying for and choosing to play. You came here for this! Most of the people playing this are here for this! You have to figure that if they are fine with killing and eating people, they’re probably fine with fucking each other, or, eventually possibly eventually going to be, at least.

So you’d think, except that many people seem to unironically believe that the cannibalism is more moral than the incest.

Oh, god, I’m doing this right now, aren’t I.

So, I get it. While I’m pretty skeptical of the notion that cannibalism is not as bad as incest, I do realize that incest is, at the very least, the more taboo of these things, and that a lot of people are more uncomfortable with it than they are with the cannibalism and the murder. To quote the one positive and in-depth review available in any media outlet at the time of this writing, from Destructoid:

“This aspect is undoubtedly the most controversial element about The Coffin of Andy and Leyley, and I understand why. While cannibalism is a taboo subject, it’s present in mainstream games like Fallout as an option for players. Having incestuous themes crosses over into Drakengard territory, and even then, no option allows Caim to reciprocate Furiae’s feelings for him.”

"The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is horrifying and I can’t get enough of it" Andrea Gonzalez, Destructoid, November 12 2023

So, yeah, I. y’know. Get it. I know why. However.

I can point to a lot of things that Andrew and Ashley do wrong in this game. They are, as per the game’s premise, very not okay, not as individuals, and not together. Andrew is way too attached to Ashley, and Ashley is generally an awful person who is way too attached herself, and also, all too quick on the draw to take advantage of Andrew’s attachment to her to make him do what she wants. This is not a healthy relationship. And we’re here for it! It’s compelling!

But, I think it’s worth asking why it’s such a toxic dynamic. Is it because they’re siblings? Well, not really. It’s a dynamic that’s specifically possible with them being siblings, but it’s not because of their sibling connection.

The actual reason why Andrew and Ashley’s relationship turns abusive isn’t because their relationship is abusive by necessity or nature, but because Ashley abuses their relationship. And she is doing this for basically the whole game. Like, it is abusive the whole time. It doesn’t become abusive when their relationship takes its romantic turn. Does it become more abusive? I mean. Maybe. Maybe the romance exacerbates the abuse. I dunno, we’ll have to wait and see what the next episode says.

So, then, why is the notion of them possibly in the future having sex the elephant in the room here, when before that, they do so many objectively worse things that cause much more harm both to themselves and others? Is that really so much more of a bigger deal than the murder and the people eating?

Or. To phrase it Ashley’s way. You played a game about mutilating and eating your parents’ corpses, and getting laid is what you’re freaking out about?

Is the incest really that much more extreme, or are you just more disgusted with it?

And even if you are more disgusted with it. Even if we grant that it is, actually, somehow, more harmful for siblings to have sex with each other, than to do murder and cannibalism. Is this the hill you’re dying on? What you’ve decided is of such utmost importance and injustice that you decide to go harass some random indie dev who just wants to make a silly video game about a couple of siblings eating people?

Does it truly make sense to let your kneejerk moral disgust guide you to the conclusion that the creator of this game deserves to be persecuted for merely writing about and drawing a thing you don’t like?

Well, to answer that, we have to get into the question of whether or not “immoral fiction” is harmful, or “normalizing” things that are wrong. Does fictionally depicting an immoral action actually cause harm?

I could dance around in circles for a little while about the edge cases, and certain writers who are publishing bad or hateful material in bad faith, or fascist propaganda, which is of course always bad, or whatever other example I could use to qualify my point or list out an exception to appease the people who disagree with me, but, I’ll just cut right to the chase, and tell you the answer

No!

The answer is NO!

The thing about taboos is that they don’t make us more safe. They don’t protect us from bad things. All they do is protect people’s comfort by silencing people they don’t want to understand, and enable bad actors by keeping their victims in the dark, and denying them the ability to talk about it.

The only thing we end up doing by censoring stories about these uncomfortable topics, and making it socially unacceptable to talk about them, is make it harder to know. We deny ourselves knowledge. We deny ourselves a conversation about these subjects, we deny ourselves the ability to meaningfully understand them. We deny ourselves power, what little we have, as readers, to understand, and to critique, to reason.

There’s a tumblr post I really like. Well, a number of them, I really like, on this topic, but I’m picking this one, because it’s got a quote I really like. It talks about Lolita. That Lolita. And, now, I’ve never read Lolita, at least not yet. Lolita is a novel about child sexual abuse, told from the perspective of an abuser. It’s an uncomfortable book with an uncomfortable topic, and it’s not wrong to be uncomfortable with it. The author of this post acknowledges that.

But they talk about it. They talk about how it shines a light on its subject matter. The why and the how of abusers and their actions. The ways in which their victims suffer. How it shows all of this in a way that it only could from the perspective it takes. And, I’m just going to quote them. I can’t do anything else. They said it better than I could, right now.

“Embrace disgusting fiction and then fucking talk about why it’s nasty. Now YOU have the power over reality.” - tumblr user legsdemandias

The Coffin of Andy and Leyley has been ridiculed, joked about, hot taked on, made a target, drama-ed over, and so on, but it’s hardly been criticized. No one I’ve seen admitting to not liking it talks critically about why it’s disgusting to them, or tries to understand why it exists, or what it’s for. And this is most people’s reaction to most media that deals seriously with anything taboo. “I don’t get it. I don’t like it. It shouldn’t exist. Get it away from me.”

I’m annoyed that the medium, the art form, of video games, is valued so little by so many that this is the wide reaction when something like this gets popular. That the mainstream games journalism media ridicules it, and the creator gets threatened by an internet mob, and it falls on the weirdos and the freaks and the no-name YouTube uwu girls, to give it the serious consideration and recognition it deserves.

To summarize, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is, in my opinion, a very good video game, and on its behalf, I am mad at video games.

Now, go on. You made it through this video. I told you the plot! You can probably stomach the plot! So go, go. Shoo. Go buy Nemlei a drink. If you want to.

Or, buy us, the joystick system, a drink! You can do that at patreon dot com slash joycestick, or, ko-fi dot com slash joycestick. You can buy us drinks in both of those places.

I’ve been Audrey. Thank you for listening.

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