#i shan't say it. but some of you know what i'm thinking

[revvethasmythh]

caleb telling luc not to take that tone with his mother and then starting to go after him when he stormed away is so. paternal

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Your deep dive of ttpd was amazing💕 I just have one question. First off I despise MH and second I don't hate JA but I think he is a very depressing man who doesn't know what he wants out of life. Question is when TS performed at the 1975 concert with anti hero, were they involved then ? I am terrible at time lines not that it really makes a difference when he started to play her but he is so despicable I just wondered if they were together then.

Hi anon,

This is delicate and I'd also like to caveat that I am not privy to Taylor's personal life, nor is anyone else on the internet, so I can't speak in absolutes.

But going from the story she's laid out in TTPD: it's not necessarily likely they were physically involved at the time of that concert, but there were at the very least complicated emotional entanglements by then. IIRC in some article at the time of their relationship, someone (maybe Jack? idk) confirmed that they reconnected as friends (after years of not speaking) through Jack when he and Taylor were finishing Midnights in 2022 (and Jack was producing The 1975's album, hence the connection). I can't remember where I read this, but someone pointed out that Taylor and Matty were rarely if ever actually on the same continent until he showed up for Eras because of his band's touring schedule. But also don't take my word for it because I pride myself on knowing as little about him and his band as possible lol.

So like, the story we "know" is that they got involved for real when he showed up at Eras in Nashville in May, because he'd been on tour most of the year before then. As far as we know, Taylor and Joe broke up sometime between Arlington and Vegas tour stops in March of 2023. So there's at the very least murkiness re: the emotional affair, which she all but outlines in Guilty As Sin? and How Did It End?, but beyond that, what we know is what we she's shared in TTPD and what we saw play out.

TL;DR: there was probably risky (and ill-advised) flirtation happening at the time of that concert and an emotionally intimate relationship, but beyond that, we don't know, so I'm taking Taylor's word for it unless she offers other information in the future.

(Frankly, I also think if they'd been physically intimate at the time, Matty would have had no problem bragging about being "the other man" after the shitstorm in 2023 because he is the type and the fact that he hasn't leads me to believe they weren't, but I digress.)

[entitled-fangirl]

Chance. (P3)

Aemond Targaryen x reader; Aegon x Wife!reader

Summary: the people grow restless with no king. The reader is determined to find out Aemond's motives.

A/n: A short little chapter to get us to Sunday when the next episode releases!

Part 1, 2, 4

Masterlist

...........................................................

"Ser Hightower!" Y/n called out as she walked down the stairs to the courtyard. 

Gwayne looked away from Alicent, immediately moving his attention to her, "My queen. How may I be of assistance?"

"I wondered if, time permitting, we may speak?"

Alicent tilted her head, eyeing the girl closely. 

Gwayne nodded. "Even if time does not permit, I shan't leave the queen wanting. I am yours."

Alicent noted the smile that grazed her brother's face. She huffed and walked off, not bothering with a goodbye. 

Y/n sighed, "You were at the battle, fighting valiantly, I assume."

He nodded and spoke with his usual soft voice, "Indeed, I was."

"What happened?"

His head tilted and a curious look came to his eye, "I'm lost, I'm afraid.  Ask me plainly, my queen. I don't keep secrets, you know."

She looked over to Alicent and Cole speaking across the courtyard before looking back to the male Hightower. "Who truly harmed Aegon?"

His brows furrowed and he looked away for a moment, "I didn't get a look at it. I was too concerned with the fighting on the ground."

She sighed and nodded, "I had figured you would have been."

"You suspect foul play?"

She shrugged, "It's all foul play, ser."

He let out a soft chuckle, "You're right in that." He shifted his body weight in thought, "I know you're not looking for allies-"

"-I am, actually."

His brows furrowed again. "Ah. Well, I am not much, but I will be your eyes in the bannermen if you wish."

She smiled, "I'd like that very much, ser. I thank you, as does the crown."

"Your thanks is enough."

…

"You're really to go?" She asked with a frown. 

Aemond smirked, "I am needed to win this battle. Vhagar listens to no one else."

She sighed, "Aegon is furious with you, you know."

He shrugged, "So be it. I care not what he thinks anymore."

"That's your king, Aemond. Be careful with who you speak such things to."

"I am," he stated. "I'm speaking it to you, am I not?"

Her cheeks flushed, "Just don't get injured. Please. I wouldn't be able to sleep well at night if you did."

He grinned, "Promise."

…

"My queen, we must leave now!"

Her head shot up, "What? What's happened?"

…

"They mock me!" He growled.

"My love, they do not."

Aegon scoffed, "My brother and my hand makes plans without me. They do not ask me of anything."

"They mean it in good favor-"

"-What is good favor if it is not from your king!?"

She rubbed her forehead softly, "Perhaps let this one go, and reconvene when the battle is won."

"You've have me just let this go?"

"Drink some wine. Take a bath. Go see a whore. I dunno, Aegon."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, "I'm a lousy king, aren't I?"

"You're doing just fine."

"Why doesn't it feel like it then?"

She paused, unsure of what to say. 

Alicent walked in, and Y/n stood. She kissed Aegon's forehead, "Give it thought, my love. You're as fearsome as any of them."

She moved past Alicent with a glare.

…

"GET THE WOMEN TO THE WHEELHOUSE!"

Alicent grabbed Helaena's hand, helping drag her down the stairs. 

Y/n joined them not long after, leaving from a different door.

Surrounded by guards, the three were dragged through the rioting crowd, occasionally grabbed by the people.

"Tis the queen of fishes!"

Something was thrown, smacking Alicent in the face. She gasped, but was ushered further on.

Alicent's iron grip made her not lose Helaena, but Y/n was quickly lost. 

She disappeared in the crowd, pushed left and right in panic. 

She felt someone grab her chin and pull her forward. "You'll sleep with anyone with a crown, won't you, pretty girl?" The voice sneered. 

She whined out, closing her eyes as if it would will it away. 

Hands moved everywhere, one tugging at her dress, tearing it from her shoulder with a loud rip. 

Hot tears ran down her face, not stopping even when a guard found her again and pushed the others away. He paused for just a moment to access her, "My queen!"

Only then did she see the guard's wide eyes and a white hot pain moved to her cheek. 

She reached up, her fingers coming back with bright red blood. 

Black clouded her vision. 

..................................................

part 4

taglist: @p45510n4f4shi0n, @darktrashsoulbear, @vieenr0se, @pez-unicorn, @marlenees-world, @thatbabydeer

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[mspopstar]

Kirby have try cheering Meta Knight up, he's probably down...

KB: "C'mon Meta Knight, you can't just mope around in your pajamas over some mean comment!"

MK: "...But what does that mean for me as a warrior? As a knight, even? If I can't train against one of the most powerful warriors how else will I ever grow and hone my strength? I looked up to him Kirby, he's practically a paragon of power and strength as a knight! For him to abscond from my presence, to actively deny himself the leisure of training with me... What does that speak of on me? Am I as uncouth as the vagabonds he too had to cut down? I understand the folly in my thoughts, and Sir Galacta Knight does deserve time of leisure but to know he has completely forsaken the life of a warrior... It leaves my mood low trodden."

KB: "Come on! So what if yer' idol doesn't want to fight you! There's plenty of other ways to train, ain't there? Can't ya' train with someone else?"

MK: "...Will you train with me?"

KB: "Well..."

KB: "....sure...?"

MK: "You could not even try to sound interested?"

KB: "Awh, geez. It's not that I hate trainin' with you Meta Knight, it's just that..."

MK: "Go on."

KB: "I kinda don't wanna and don't have to. I'm already the strongest so I see no point in needin' to improve my skills anyways. With that in mind, I think ya' should be glad that Galacta doesn't want ta' fight you, right?"

MK: "First off, you being the so-called strongest, so much so that you believe you are above growing, is a gross over-generalization that is tantamount to your ego and immaturity. Secondly there is no positive spi--"

KB: "--Ok, ok, ok, ok! Think about it like this! If you already beat Galacta Knight and you know you can beat him... That technically makes you stronger than him it isn't like yer' going to get any better fighting somethin' weaker than you! So what does it matter, you're better than Galacta an' you don't need to fight he- him! His words? Don't matter! Let it go Meta Knight, it's not that big of a deal y'know?"

MK: "..."

KB: "..."

MK: "...You're right. Yes, I suppose you have a point."

KB: "I do?"

MK: "Yes, you are indeed correct.

KB "...Yay?"

MK: "Tell me Kirby, do you care of how the common ant pleases itself to live? How it moves, what it does?"

KB: "Nn..No? I can't say I have an' I like to watch bugs. In fact, if it weren't for my house bein' so small I'd start a small insect collection. I hate worms but I like butterflies the most, but beetles are good they're pretty tasty to-"

MK: "Quiet with your sickening past time."

MK: "To answer. The reason that you do not care about the life of an ant is because the ant is inferior, an inferior being whom you can easily stomp beneath your boot and ignore."

MK: "It poses no threat, no interference to you because you are stronger than it and are afforded the privilege and indulgence to not care because of that. So, rare as it may be, I will take that indulgence and not care! Why should I? As you have described, and I willfully take on for myself, I shan't give him the time of day and will no longer pester him no longer because I am far superior to him in both strength and intellect.

MK: "I have become superior to him therefore it of no concern of mine to delude and privy myself to the boyish fantasies of rampant idolism. Instead, I shall idolize a person of upper most importance instead. Myself."

MK: "While Galacta Knight chose to grow lazy and untrained, distracted by the delights of the land I will busy myself training, strengthening, and improving more and more until my bones are as strong as steel, muscle denser than stone and blood as thick as mud. Galacta Knight will regret his choice because if we are ever to duel once more our disparities in strength will undoubtably result in his demise."

MK: "That... That is how it should be! The weak should have no right to comment on the ways of a strong warrior such as I! Especially those who used to be strong warriors! Those who improve, and continue to improve are always superior and will supersede the lazy! That's right! That's it!"

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

"Well a week or so after I left Sailor Dee said Meta Knight's "gotten his mojo back" so I guess he's doin' alright now."

-Kirby!

[ckret2]

What are some of your favorite books?

This is not an exhaustive list. I have read a fucking lot of books. I guarantee you I have forgotten 8 out of my top 10 favorites.

Here are the answers that would make my literature teachers proud:

Grendel; To The Lighthouse; Dracula but I was into Dracula before it was cool; Don Quixote; a moment ago I had two others but I forgor

Here are some other answers:

When I was a kid my mom said I was too young to read RL Stine's Goosebumps books so I was banned, so I picked up one of RL Stine's Fear Street books instead, because at age 7 I understood malicious compliance. The book was Revenge of the Shadow People. It was the first horror story I ever read. Because of that I've had a lifelong obsession with shadow people characters. (Heartless, Aku, Okage Evil King Stan...) It's a modest book, but it helped shape my personality, so it belongs on this list.

My middle school favorite books—because I read them 5,000 times and will never forget them—were How To Disappear Completely And Never Be Found; The Last Book In The Universe; Self-Portrait with Wings; and anything by Neal Shusterman. The Last Unicorn SHOULD have been one of my favorites except I only saw the movie and didn't learn about the book until I was an adult.

As a kid I was really into Lovecraft when I was still young & ignorant enough to be like "gee, the way he writes about other races sounds kinda racist, but I'm sure there's a good reason for that!" The reason was he's hella racist. On the bright side, there's now a bunch of very good Lovecraftian stories ABOUT racism. I liked Lovecraft Country (of course) and The Ballad of Black Tom.

Lovecraft was the biggest influence on how I think about horror and Hitchhiker's Guide was the biggest influence on how I think about comedy and idk what that combo says.

Adultier favorites: Wild Seed (anything by Octavia Butler tbh), Machineries of Empire trilogy, Sherlock Holmes Vs. Cthulhu and I shan't apologize for my terrible taste; The Android's Dream; NOS-4-A2 which I picked up because it had the same name as a Buzz Lightyear character even though the Buzz Lightyear character is a robot and the book is about a car; I'm gradually working my way through Poirot; Carnacki the Ghost-Finder. 

I read the Popol Vuh in college and was hypnotized by its poetry but that was an academic translation and more recently it's had a poetic translation that I've bought but I haven't read yet.

Here's some random recent books I enjoyed—not necessarily my "favorites," but they're in my recent library card history so it's easy for me to look them up rather than trying to pull titles of old out of my ADHD black hole. Beholder by Ryan La Sala was fantastic—fun cosmic horror (both the premise and the entity itself), fun mystery, and I like it when you can say "and it's a queer romance" as a bonus to what makes the story good as opposed to being its only selling point. Such a Bad Influence had such a perfect ending that I went to the writer's site to immediately email her about it but then my browser crashed so I went to sleep and I still need to email her about it. Darcy Coates is my current "pumps out a million haunted house mysteries" author whose books I'm working my way through. Zero Sum Game was good, I still need to read the sequels.

Separate from the above, I'm in the market for book recs that feature Death/the Reaper as a main character, because I just read one that was crap. (The book was fine; but Death was characterized boringly and didn't have any significant impact on the plot. Like he was the selling point of the book and they could have just left him out.) Bonus points if Death is depicted as an actual skeleton rather than just some guy. I'm flexible on genres, but if it's romance Death has GOTTA be a skeleton, I'm not interested in a monsterfucker bait-and-switch. I already know about Discworld and respect that Death, I just want something that isn't Discworld.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Clumsy girl.

Request: Fluff, Fluffy Fluff Fluff please. Jack Dawkins and reader, she's a clumsy lady from town who is friends with Hetty. Belle is still in it but they don't have a relationship. Jack secretly likes reader. You can choose the storyline etc.

"Oh y/n what have you done this time?" Hetty asks as you walk up to her.

"What do you mean, I'm perfectly well." You say, words slightly slurred. Hetty reached up to your head, pushing back your hair to look at the wound.

"y/n?" She sighs. You smile at her and shrug, "come on." She takes your shoulder and leads you further into the hospital. Before she could get you to the ward you see Jack jumping down the back staircase, from the doctor's residency rooms.

"Oh good afternoon y/n. Look at your head. Come upstairs." He takes your arm from Hetty, "Thank you nurse." He says to his long time friend.

"umm excuse me you can't just take patients up there." A very posh and very annoyed voice calls over to you both.

"No worries Lady Belle. She is a friend. We shan't be a moment." Jack sarcastically grinned at the blonde woman and continued walking.

"Who is that?" You ask.

"The Governor's daughter, fancies herself a surgeon. Sneed let's her waltz around cause he wants to bed her." He laughed.

"ha, always trying to get one over, isn't he." You say as Jack leads you into his bedroom. You sit down on the end of the bed and Jack darts to his table where he grabs some cloths and bandages. He sits beside you, one leg folded below him.

"What happened this time, y/n?" He asks as he takes a better look at your head wound.

"Oh, you know me, I tripped, the table was I'm sure two feet to the left." You say. Jack looks down at you, concern painted across his eyes.

"y/n, you're not yourself. Lay down." He stands and guides you by the shoulders to the pillow.

"Jack if you wanted me in your bed all you have to do is ask." You say, eyes feeling heavy.

"Alright, you just lay back and rest I'll stitch this up for you okay." His voice is hardly higher than a whisper. The comfort of his feather pillows draws you to sleep.

When at last you stir and open your eyes you see Jack close by sitting in a wooden dining chair, his feet propped up on the end of the bed beside him Hetty stands, a hand on her hip and one fiddling with her apron. You stayed still to listen to them.

"I do worry about her. Could there be something worse happening?" The nurse and your long time friend asked him.

"I don't know, when she's here we never see her fall or stumble." Jack narrowed his lips and clenched his jaw.

"You think, she only has her father at home." Hetty explained. The pair fell silent and Hetty leaves the room.

"I know you're awake, y/n." Jack pulls his legs back and leans forward.

"How?" You ask opening your eyes.

"your breathing changed." He grinned.

"Doctor Dawkins, please don't think bad of my father, I really am clumsy." You say.

"Yes well, unfortunately for.him, I have decided that he can't have you back. I want you to stay here." Jack moved so he was crouching in front of you.

"For how long?" You ask. Jack helps you to sit up in the bed.

"Well actually, indefinitely." He explains. Panic makes your heart beat rapidly inside your chest.

"No, I can't do that. He needs...I couldn't..." you start to push the sheets back to get out of bed but Jack takes your hands.

"y/n, you have...what if I... I'd very much like you to be here." Jack struggles to find the words.

"It's okay, Doctor I really have no skills to help in the hospital so I could never pay for the health care." You protest once again pushing yourself off the bed.

"No, you don't understand." Jack stands, a hand on his hip and the other rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not very good at this at all. I don't want you to stay here as a patient." He tries again.

"Then as what? A servant? I'm a good cook-"

"No!" He cuts you off, "Not as a servant as my...well as my wife." He finally says, dropping his chin to his chest. You stop and stand still looking up to him. You couldn't describe the feeling that shuddered throughout your body.

"Why...but we don't, I mean you have not..." It was your turn to lose the ability to speak. Jack took two large steps toward you and took your hands in his.

"I have liked you since the moment I first saw you, but I never thought you'd feel the same for me. I figured you'd have a long list of suitors but I can't do this anymore, y/n. I can't keep seeing you come in here bruised and battered by some old man who doesn't treat you exactly how you should be."

Unsure how to reply you slip back onto the bed trying to work out what he was saying. Jack crouched in front of you.

"I have no money and nothing to offer you but this room, and a husband who would love you." He says.

"You love me?" You ask with a smile. Jack lets out a single laugh

"I've been trying to find a way of telling you for a long time." He smiles.

"Well, we will need some things in here, a woman's touch and it could look quite lovely." You say looking around yourself.

"Is, is that a yes?" Jack asks.

"Yes Jack, I'll marry you."

[gingersnaptaff]

(Okay, so I know I said I was gonna do marriage laws and queenship stuff in regards to welsh laws - and I will! - but here is a nice, quick round-up about BARDS

*SHREDS ON A HARP*

Okay, so this is inspired by @gawrkin 's recent posts on bards because the laws surrounding them are SUPER FUN. And Wales LOVES LOVES LOVES their bards. (Myself included.)

Right, so, without further ado, ONWARDS.

*shreds harp aggressively again*

So the 'spurious triads' the author is referring to are presumably to do with IOLO MORGANNWG *ominous thunderclap*.

I shan't go too much into him as suffice to say, we gotta keep this shit SHORT, but he was a massive forger from Glamorgan (that's what Morgannwg means. It's his bardic name. Iolo is Edward.) who made up a bunch of triads and Celtic / medieval manuscripts including some of the Welsh Triads. Also, he is the reason why the Eisteddfod has the Gorsedd of bards.

So a mixed bag, y'know.

ANYWAY. They're very high-rank on account of being the literally Yellow Pages of Celtic and medieval Welsh societies. If you had a question that needed answering you'd ask a bard. They were like Google. They would know a man's lineage (and Welsh lineages are confusing. There were men named Dafydd ap Dafydd ap Dafydd ap Dafydd. No, I'm not joking.) battles, monarchs, myths, songs, stories. Anything.

And they had to SING. And play an instrument. Namely either a harp or a crwth.

This baby is crwth! It's a little like a violin but much darker in tone. They were extinct for a while but they've undergone a revival and they are FUN!

Also, the court bard had to SING to the queen about Camlann 'in a low voice.' I've heard various reasons suggested as to why and one of them is to remind her that Gwenhwyfar's infidelity was the main reason for King Arthur's downfall, but I think it's probably because of The Slap. Idk though. I'm just guessing, buddies.

Still, it's cool that the queen got a special sing-song.

Also, the bard being 'invested with a chess board' suggests to me that the game of Gwyddbwyll that Arthur and Owain play in the Mabinogion signals that they're bards. Gwyddbwyll being the type of chess the bards would've been familiar with. Plus, we know Arthur is somewhat of an amateur bard (Culhwch and Olwen being the prime example where he sings his terrible englyn about Cai to his face. Arthur, ur a fuckin BASTARD.) so it's in keeping with his character.

Also, I think it's adorable that the harp 'always descended to the youngest son.'

If you want a story that deals with bards and their privileged position in Welsh society and also wants ur heart RIPPED OUT may I suggest 'The Assembly of the Severed Head' by Hugh Lupton. It deals with a bard in a monastery after he's almost perished in a raid and the monks writing out the Mabinogion so they can give it to Llywelyn Fawr. It deals with war, love, loss, and also stonking good historical context. Also lots of poetry!!!!

Final fact: bards in Wales weren't wiped out by Edward the First. That's a fuckin myth. Don't come round here with ur fuckin myths. Old Longshanks has done enough already. May he eat shit.

(Also, Taliesin gets all the good rep but what about my boy Aneirin?)

Okay, BYEEEEE!!!!

P.S.: have an Eisteddfod chair!

[windvexer]

Hello Chicken!!!

I'm planning on doing a little charm on a toy from my cats, because I'm going to travel for a while, so the idea would be that the toy is charmed to give them a feeling of love/happiness and comfort while I'm away (there will be people who loves them here with them but I am the favorite 💅)

So my idea was taking this little rat toy that has this hole you can open to put catnip and close. And then I would take some leaves of the catnip plant from my garden and ask the catnip to help my spell and give feelings of happiness/love to my cats. Then I would hold it and also empower with my own energy of love and comfort.

And to end I wanted to say a little charm before I seal by giving a kiss on the toy.

The problem I'm having is the writing of the charm. I'm trying to use this formart you teached in one of your posts :

"Name the influencing powers/energies. State what you want them to do. Describe how your will becomes manifest. Affirm that your will shall be done. Close/seal charm"

And my dificult here is in the part of naming the influencing powers. I'm still a beginner so I don't really have a particular deity or power I'm used to call. In your post you gave an example calling the sun and the moon. Do you think I could use that or should I look for something more especific to the intent of the spell? Like something related to love for example. This is a doubt I also have in other charms, like can sources more general like the sun be used for a bunch of different purposes or should I always look for something more especific?

Hello,

I believe in this case, the influencing powers would be the Catnip itself!

The Moon is often considered to be a good friend to witches and may be called upon generally - I don't know what astrologers would have to say about that.

Borrow some of my cosmology, if you like:

The physical plant matter we use is a correspondence. One way to frame this is that such-and-such ingredient of witchcraft is so harmonized with something else that it can become that thing.

Can become that thing, that's a pivotal word.

What things the plant corresponds with are usually taken to be concepts; love, joy, truth, suspicion, wealth, dreams, and so forth.

However, if this alone were true, then I think it would imply that the correspondences of witchcraft are empty vessels, like cookie-cutters, which can only function to shape external energy.

Therefore, Catnip has the shape of cat-joy-love, but in order for it to "work," it has to be filled with external power, just like a mold remains inert until resin is poured into it.

But I believe this is not true! Such a picture is incomplete.

Not only is Catnip so harmonized with cat-joy-love that it can become cat-joy-love, but Catnip also corresponds with other very important things: a wide variety of nature spirits and gods.

I believe that when you hold some physical plant matter, it corresponds with concepts (love, beauty, happiness) but also with:

the individual plant it was harvested from (the parent plant; your potted catnip)

land from which the parent plant grew

the archetype or grandparent spirit (Catnip)

*nearby spirits, gods, and powers with overlapping domains or interests (e.g., those powers also correspond with love, beauty, and happiness, and may be roused whenever these concepts are evoked)

(*This gets kind of loosey goosey so I shan't discuss it further)

What we're really after is the archetype or grandparent spirit, another word for which I believe is demigod.

There are many millions of gods, and Catnip is one of them. It's a living spirit of great power who rules over all of its children, both an active force of nature and well acquainted with the lives and needs of humankind.

It's not one of the Celestial Governers you necessarily need, nor a big fancy guy like Hera or Isis. It can be Catnip itself who is the power you call on.

And, we can also consider the fact of fitting power into vessels. An ill-fitting vessel can have trouble holding onto and pouring out desired powers, like trying to use a teapot to pour ketchup.

But Catnip corresponds perfectly to catnip; catnip is not only an extremely strong link to Catnip, but it's also the perfect vessel to hold Catnip. I defy you to find a better vessel for Catnip than catnip.

So when you say you're having trouble determining the best powers to call for what situations, I encourage you to look at what's sitting in front of you.

Fire fits well into candle-flame. Air and Smoke fit excellently into incense. Honey into honey, Basil into basil, Rice into rice, Money into money.

Many happy gods who love humans are sitting in the pantry, just the right size and shape to fall whole into our world with no edges snipped off just to make them fit.

And after all, why not call on them? They would not be in the pantry if they weren't fond of us.

[gowerhardcastle]

As When I Wrote a Tumblr Post

I was starting to write a response to an ask about my use of similes, and I was starting to explain how important Spenser, Milton, and especially Homer was to my use of simile in my prose, but then I got caught up in thinking about how I use classical references to make jokes that amuse at least me.

So then I figure I would amass my ten favorite Greek and Roman jokes from my games for you. Then ten became eleven. I can't stop.

Learned jokes about classical and early English literature is at the very heart of this whole gigantic thing I'm writing here, which should be no surprise, because that's what I teach when I'm not writing interactive games.

All I can hope is that the reader either really enjoys a narrative voice that is a little obsessed with such things.

At any rate, much--perhaps even most--of these jokes will be invisible to a character with low Culture. Or, as in several examples below, the joke changes depending on whether you have high or low culture.

Here they are, my top XI classical jokes. Plus, one bonus. Some come from previously published games. Many come from my current game, Tea and Scones.

I:

"Honestly, I think you should just endure."

"You mean like the fellow chained to the rock with the vulture eating his liver out," moans Marmaduke.

*if culture < 35

"I have not seen that film as yet. Sounds a bit gory. But certainly, if that helps you. Like the liver fellow. Just endure."

*if culture >= 35

"Yes. You are a modern-day Prometheus, if that helps you steel your nerves. Just endure."

II:

You ponder Buck's words, rolling them round and round in your mind, turning like

*if culture > 45

            Ixion upon his wheel, to bring a classical simile into things.

*if culture <= 45

            a pinwheel, or a merry-go-round, or, let us say, some sort of carnival tilt-a-whirl.  But it is no use.  If he were trying to communicate something specific, the project was a failure.

III:

There is a moment in The Iliad at which the great Greek hero, Diomedes, filled with valor by the might of Athena, flings his bronze spear at the Trojan hero Phegeus.

The spear streaks across the battlefield as Diomedes emanates fire from his head, and strikes true, puncturing his armor, transfixing his foe, and sending him on a one-way trip to the underworld.

Back at university, you did not give much thought to this moment, but now, you think you have a better sense of what that Homer fellow was all about.

True, fire does not literally emanate from your head, but in all other ways, you emulate the feat of Diomedes, as the walking stick you throw flies true, across the opera house.

IV:

"But you haven't heard what I have to tell you.  You will realize why I need you when you hear the details.  It will be a simple matter for you to solve, whereas I am wholly helpless."

"As I say, you must fend for yourself.  I wish it were otherwise, but there we are.  Would you kindly remove yourself from my leg?"                                  

"No, I shan't.  Like Lykaon before Achilles, I supplicate you!  Mercy!  Mercy!"                

"If you recall, Achilles slew Lykaon, not heeding the supplication in question.  You ought to reread your Iliad."                                     

"Did he?"                                           

"Yes.  The supplication in question was not a wise idea."                                         

"Oh."  Marmaduke loosens his grasp and stands up.  "You certainly know your classical mythology."

V:

#"What's in the violin case?"

"I'll bet you'd like to know," he says.  "You know the story of Aolus and the bag?  It's like that."

"That's Homer," says Vyv.  "The bag of winds or something.  You have to open the bag to let the winds out.  No, wait a moment.  It's the other way."

"That is familiar," you say.  "The bag of winds is too tempting to open and then they open it, and there's wind inside, which frankly they should have figured out because it is called the 'bag of winds.'"

VI:

The tactical choice here is not a complex one.  You strike him as hard as you can with your fist.  It is a tried-and-true approach.  The thought bypasses your brain entirely, and comes entirely out of a conversation between your spine and your hand, as you sock him as hard as you can.

Scores of great authors have groped for the way to describe, say, Achilles spearing some unfortunate Trojan, or Macbeth slicing his way through some or other thane with his broadsword.  But this particular blow, if a Homer or a Shakespeare had been present, could only have been described by the bards in question with a single syllable:  "Wow."--or its equivalent in Ancient Greek.

VII:

“And then I shall defeat you properly."

"Oh," you say.  "Really?"

"Quite," he says, "There shall be songs sung about the things I do.  You may have heard of Achilles dragging the body of Hector around the walls of Troy.  That will be an idle picnic at the park compared to what I do to you."  He walks away from you slowly and furiously, fists clenched.

VIII:

The two of you approach a small, vine-covered restaurant, one of those new novelty eateries.  It is named "Polytropos," serving Greek feasts "Fit for Odysseus Himself Upon His Return" as the sign proclaims.  The whole place is themed after The Odyssey, and the walls and ceiling are festooned with grapevines and garishly painted plaster gods and goddesses….

Your waiter, dressed like a cyclops, places a basket of complimentary lotus root crisps on the table.  Before anyone can speak, Aunt Matilda orders the Octopus Supreme Platter for everyone to share.

IX:

"Yes, of course," you say.  "Really, you should be thanking me.  Imagine--a brutish ruffian is after you, hoping to treat you in a most unmerciful manner.  You have insulted his pride, heedless of the consequences.  You shall defend yourself against him, come what may.  How bold!  How unyielding.  Your name shall live forever."

“Gosh!” says Marmaduke.

*if (((culture >= 47) or ((persuade + culture) >= 75)))          

You are like Theseus braving the minotaur, or Heracles wrestling the lion, or Pompey the Great.  You are, or will be, Marmaduke the Great, in the eyes of many.”

*else

            "You are like that Roman fellow holding the bridge in the face of opposition," you say.  "The name eludes me at the moment.  Horace Sublicius?  Horatio Sulla Decimus?  Something like that.  Roman sounding."      

            "And this is your argument that my name will live forever?" Marmaduke says.

X:

You hesitate, just for a moment. *if culture >= 40 Like Aeneas, his sword lifted high above the prostrate Turnus, or Pyrrhus standing like a painted tyrant above the frail and helpless Priam. That's the way you hesitate. But then, like those warriors of old, the moment of indecision passes away, and you act. *if culture < 40 You hesitate, as when Duddles, having eaten eight already, holding his hand above the plate with the very last berry scone, looks about the room, his will poised between "take it" and "I probably shouldn't." But then, like Duddles, the moment of indecision passes swiftly away, and you act.

XI:

The corridor is decorated with classical scenes of service, like Ganymede being abducted by Jupiter to eventually be made the cupbearer of the gods, the messenger goddess Iris pointedly and respectfully not partaking of the sacrificial meat of the major gods, and Hebe spilling the divine nectar and being given a dressing-down and a lecture on the subject of carelessness by Juno.

As always, your nostrils flare as you recognize the frankly gauche mixing of Greek and Roman figures in the same scene.

Bonus:

"I love you," you say to the the mirror.  "It doesn't matter what anyone else says.  I love you."

"Thank you," you say to yourself, hugging your arms around yourself.  "That means a lot, coming from you."

"I appreciate you, and I see you, and I know how hard things can be.  You've got an ally in me."

"This gives me the strength to go on."

"Ignore the brickbats of society.  Be true to yourself.  γνῶθι σεαυτόν, in the words of the ancient Greeks."

"Right, right.  Well put."

"Thank you."

Perhaps Shakespeare is more your cup of tea? I've written up a similar discussion of my use of Shakespeare in my games here (albeit for patrons).

If the precise nexus where great literature and interactive fiction is where you live, might I tempt you to visit The Noble Gases Club? Become a member, read what I would call a panoply of mini-essays on game design and matters of literary interest, and play an absurdly long demo of Jolly Good: Tea and Scones.

[fisheito]

*rings the service bell* hi um i was wondering.. if there's any yakumo temperature play in here? sounds silly but i only realised after i circled the building a few times... that i haven't seen it at all. Seems to be common practice, actually- to not have it. i've visited several other buildings and there's been no sight of it.

which is... strange? if i think about it, it's surprising that i haven't encountered it yet! it sort of makes sense to have them together, you know? considering that temperature is so vital to a snake's perception of the world. and how sensitive reptiles are to temperature fluctuations.

so there's a lot of control to be had here. can you imagine controlling someone's energy level just by adjusting the thermostat? er- well, i guess we already do that. but imagine you put yakumo in an ice bath and he immediately falls asleep. brumation happens instantly now, sorry. and the only way to snap him out of it is to stick a flaming dildo up his ass

what?. no, i mean, restore his regular energy level with a soft warm-up. a heated blanket and a gentle steam. hahaha.

people plunge themselves into ice water before jumping into hot tubs and vice versa- for fun! they do this recreationally!! they call it a "spa treatment" and pay a premium for it! what's wrong with giving yakumo a spa treatment? who are we to deprive him of such sensory luxury?

i'm JUST SAYING that since he naturally gravitates toward heat, you could put him in a hurt AND comfort scenario he could be naked and cold, banished to the distant corner of the room.. but when you offer him a source of warmth, whether that be a hot rock or a warm hand or 20 lit candles suspended above him dripping wax on him at random intervals,,, wouldn't he have a tough time turning down your generosity?

i mean, he certainly would if he was tied up.

see, here's the other thing i cannot quite comprehend-- it's that--- how has a snake yokai not featured bondage scenes yet? i guess there was that one time with the.. hm. no, we shan't talk about the cellar. besides, ONLY ONE TIME is unacceptable for a sentient rope!! although yakumo would love to wrap up his prey and squeeze the cum out of em, i feel like we're missing out on a lot by not OutSnaking the Snake. tie up and restrain the Restrainer. it's just a liiiiittle step farther than putting him in a pillowcase! so mild!!!!

here's a guy who is always worried about losing control/// about being free to wreak havoc on his loved ones, despite his best intentions. so how about we give him a moment of peace? a moment where he believes he's subdued and unable to cause harm? just tie him up! keep him under TIGHT lock and key. (or some nice soft cloths for his sensitive skin, if we're being nice.) honestly, his brain will do the rest of the work. even if he's not truly incapacitated, his desire to BE So can fill the gaps in any questionable knotwork.

while he's half in the prison of his mind and half in the confines you've created for him, take some time to squeeze some whimpers out of him. although it pains me to cover up those soggy eyes, a blindfold may be an intriguing option. is yakumo the type of snake to rely on heat vision? WHY NOT FIND OUT! (if he's not terrified at his loss of sight, then i guess his pit organs are functioning . in which case, the blindfold doesn't really need to stay on. if he IS terrified and feels the loss of visuals acutely, this would be an excellent opportunity to soak in his panic. just for a bit though. we're not so cruel. guide him back with a warm touch. see? playing with fire temperature contrasts can bring such relief!)

maybe i'm getting ahead of myself. i don't expect yakumo temperature play to show up WITH bondage , why- that would be asking a lot, right?

but the basics are simple enough, yes? give the wretched creature the comforting warmth he wants, then perhaps inch closer to something bordering uncomfortable? Too Much? have him seek out what he craves, only to be burned (metaphorically and/or literally) if he indulges himself too much? oops! someone's become a slave to their senses!

i'm just saying that the sensory perception of yokai vs kink is (relatively) unknown territory. if temperature play already messes with humans, what could it possibly do to yakumo? he could experience it in facets unknown to others.-=- to levels others are incapable of appreciating---- like someone with synesthesia who can experience music with another layer of enjoyment.

if you give a snake ice cream, followed by a hot piece of meat [unknown origin], it'll really make him aware of the contrast, hmm??????

anyway. sorry about that. i'm not super clear on the specifics of it all. i just thought it peculiar that i haven't seen the yaku-hot-cold-sensitivity-finagling. out there, in here, nowhere as far as i've seen..

...or is it located in a part of the building i overlooked? if so, could you direct me there? i would really appreciate it.

if you don't have it after all, that's ok. i'll keep a careful watch now that i know what i'm looking for. maybe it's one of those things where, once i actively search for it, i'll notice it everywhere! wouldn't that be delightful!

with that, i guess i'll be on my way. thanks for your patience. yeah, i hope i find it too. have a good one!!

[jaymoriarty-knight]

"Father found you?" Scott asked, sitting upright and looking between his two fathers.

"He did. He promised he would come back and he did." Charles smiled, reaching over Scott to take Erik’s hand.

"I'm a man of my word, Charles."

"But then what happened? Wasn't the Prince following you?"

"Indeed he was," Charles nodded.

"How did you return to me? I was told you were dead." Charles gasped against Erik’s mouth.

"I shall tell you, but we must keep moving." Erik slipped his hand into Charles’s and tugged him further along the path they'd been following.

"Why?" Charles questioned but willingly went with Erik.

"Your beloved is following us."

"You are my beloved."

"That pleases me to hear." Erik gave Charles the rogue's grin Charles was so fond of.

At the top of the hill, Prince Sebastian and his entourage paused, looking down at Erik and Charles.

"Hah!" Erik grinned. "Your useless fiancé is too late. A little further and we'll be into the Fure Swamp."

"The fire swamp? We shan’t survive!" Charles protested, yet followed Erik further.

Erik shrugged with a grin. "You only say that because no one ever has."

Charles felt apprehension rise up his throat as Erik led him into the forest. He remained close to Erik, clutching his hand. The ominous sounds of the swamp had Charles nervous. Some kind of creature was howling.

A series of popping noises had Charles doing his best to remain calm and collected. He didn't want Erik to think him a coward. Until a hissing caused Charles’s pants to catch on fire.

Charles yelped as the flame licked up his calf. Erik caught Charles as he fell and lowered him gently to the ground, tapping out the fire.

"You alright?" Erik asked.

"I think so." Charles looked down at his leg to see burns. The fabric had rested right against his skin. Charles gasped and whimpered a little.

"Oh." Erik frowned at the burn. "I'll take care of that once we get out of the swamp. It shan't be too bad."

Charles nodded. Erik stood and helped Charles to his feet. Pain shot up Charles’s leg and he collapsed into Erik.

"I've got you my love, I've got you," Erik wrapped his arm around Charles’s shoulders.

"It hurts a little," Charles said with as much dignity as he could manage.

"I don't doubt it." Erik supported Charles as they continued through the swamp.

"But I really must know. How have you come back to me? How are you alive?"

"I was attacked by pirates, that's true. Only their Captain is a rather nice fellow. Nice young man, blue, got a bit of fuzz. Calls himself Kurt. You might recognize the name Nightcrawler?"

Charles nodded. "I've heard of him."

"The Nightcrawler is Kurt. He's a lot nicer than you would think for a pirate. I was traveling with a rather corrupt crew. Kurt left them stranded, but took me aboard his own ship. He was fascinated by the things I can do, and delighted in my stories of you. He helped me reach the fortune I needed and helped me back to you. He didn't know of your engagement. I found out shortly before your kidnapping."

"Well this Kurt sounds delightful. I should like to meet him sometime."

Erik smiled. "I should like that too."

Charles smiled and took a step further. Erik's hand slipped away from Charles's shoulders as Charles dropped through a vat of quicksand. Erik reacted quick as a whip, slicing through a vine and holding tight to it as he jumped down after Charles.

It didn’t take long for the couple to re-emerge from the quicksand, coughing and gasping. Charles was holding tight to Erik.

"Lord, what more terror can we experience?" Charles gasped.

"Well," Erik dusted himself and Charles off. "There are three horrors of the fire swamp. The flames, which you showed us how to avoid. The sands, which we now know what that looks like. And the rodents of unusual size. Which are of unusual size so they should be easy to spot."

At that moment a rodents of unusual size lunged at Charles, sinking it's teeth into Charles’s burn.

"Agh!" Charles fell backward as Erik grabbed his rapier. He cut the rodent's head clean off and gently pulled its teeth out of Charles’s calf.

"Dammit." Erik tugged his over shirt off and tied it around Charles’s leg, stemming the blood.

"I'm not having much luck here," Charles mumbled.

"It'll be over soon Charles, I swear it. We're nearly out." Erik scooped Charles into his arms and carried him through the rest of the fire swamp.

Once a grove of birch trees and a clear river lay ahead of them Erik lowered Charles’s feet back to the ground. "Can you stand?"

Charles nodded, testing his weight on his injured leg. He remained upright.

"I promised it would soon be over."

Charles started to smile but the sound of horses stopped him. Erik heard it too and was instantly on guard, stepping in front of Charles to protect him.

"Surrender!" Sebastian called out.

"You mean you wish to surrender to me?" Eeik taunted. "Very well I accept."

"What is a pirate doing with the Prince?" Sebastian scoffed. "Charles, come here."

Charles gripped Erik’s arm, trembling. "No. My true love has returned to me. I shan’t let him go now."

Sebastian whispered something to Azazel, who nodded. Azazel teleported behind the couple and, with a solid kick, knocked them both unconscious. Sebastian slid off his horse and scooped up Charles, placing him on horseback. "Azazel, see to it that this miscreant," he gestured to Erik’s prone form, "is thrown into the Pit of Despair."

"It shall be done." Azazel replied.

Sebastian and his entourage took off on horseback while Azazel took hold of Erik.

@cherikdogfood @star-lights-up

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Fujitsumon

Debut: Digimon Pendulum 2.0 Deep Savers (kind of. It's a little complicated. But don't worry about that)

Fujitsumon is a darling little eyes-in-a-void barnacle! With their brown exteriors, they really do bring to mind Jawas, world-renowned eyes-in-a-void creature. This is a rare design choice for a barnacle, and a barnacle is a rare creature inspiration choice! Too rare! They are such incredible and fascinating animals, and should absolutely be represented as such, and not just background decorations!

Fujitsumon is essentially a Digimon by technicality, an accessory of a creature, and I'm fine with that. They're acknowledged as creatures, and that's enough for me! They're almost always seen attached to the surface of another creature, and that sure is barnacle of them!

This is their host, Octomon! Or Octmon, if you don't like the dub name, but I think Octomon sounds better. Octomon wears a clay pot on its head, and Fujitsumon live on top of that! This is a smart setup. If I lived underwater I would love to wear a hat that some barnacle friends of mine could live on! Fujitsumon and Octomon have a mutualistic relationship going on, where the barnacles will sense danger, and warn the octopus of it, getting the whole group out of danger!

The reason I wasn't so sure about Fujitsumon's debut is that in Deep Savers, Octomon's sprite looks like this, not nearly detailed enough to even depict some barnacles! However, it does seem like the official art was made around this time, so I might as well consider this Fujitsumon's debut too.

There isn't much to Fujitsumon, but I love it! It's cute, it's a barnacle, and it's almost a "secret" creature, and that makes it, dare I say, even more fun than if it was a standalone obtainable Digimon! A charming little oddity in the digital world.

That's what I thought until I found out this little barnacle has a whole dedicated ANIME EPISODE! YEEHAW! This is the best barnacle-related cartoon episode I've ever seen! Better than SpongeBob SquarePants episode 164a Barnacle Face! Why, even better than Benny the Barnacle (2022)! Can you believe it? Better than Benny the Barnacle? I can.

In this episode of Digimon Ghost Game, the human protagonist is tormented by premonitions of disasters occurring to everyone around him, revealed to be caused by a Fujitsumon settled on his head. A land mammal is no place for a barnacle! Wouldn't it be crazy if you could go to the beach and leave with a barnacle settled on your fingernail? What would you even do? I would probably feel obligated to dip my finger into the ocean regularly to let it filter-feed. If only we had air plankton!

This Fujitsumon, as well as others that are affecting other humans, come from one particular Octomon, who got so angry at his barnacles that they Left. These are no real-life, cemented-in-place-for-the-rest-of-their-lives barnacles! They can just get up and leave if they're bothered. I bet real barnacles wish they could do that! It would be so embarrassing to end up settled right next to a turtle's... hehe... I shan't say...!

Octomon's petty outburst was over his magic brain barnacles not using their clairvoyance to help him win at a mobile game. Now, because of his Gamer Moment, there are Fujitsumon stuck directly to peoples' heads, which can cause these heads to explode. Maybe he should have just played a good mobile game, like Pico Pets Puzzle! *high fives someone offscreen*

Don't worry! Everything's ok in the end, like it always is with invertebrate friends! Octomon apologizes, the lead Fujitsumon gathers the whole crusty crew, and everything is fine except for the physical damage that has already been done, but don't worry! The virtual invertebrates are all friends again! Squishy or chitinous, none of us have spines, and that's what matters!

If you know of any obscure barnacles in media, please let me know in the notes! And until the next high tide, remember to close your armored plates to prevent dessication!

[silenthillmutual]

do you know if there's any analysis post of daniil's bipolar coding pre-quarantine (like your autistic daniil post)? it always made sense to me but i wanted to see if there's any comprehensive breakdown of all the symptoms you could argue he has

i don't know if there's a pre-existing one, but i can give you a quick rundown of what i have on hand at the moment.

from the dsm-5:

bipolar i criteria is that the patient must have experienced one manic (or mixed) episode. this episode my follow or be followed by an episode of hypomania or major depression, but these are not necessary for a diagnosis. only the mania is.

the mania must be severe (causes significant impairment to social, occupational, or other areas of functioning)

the manic episode cannot be explained away by another mental health condition (delusional or psychotic disorders including schizophrenia and related disorders) or substance use

here, mania refers to:

abnormal and persistent elevated mood (can be either a 'good' thing or a 'bad' thing; people w/o bipolar tend to associate mania with euphoria, but it can also be a period of profound irritability)

mood disturbance must be accompanied by three or more of the following symptoms: - inflated self-esteem or grandiosity - decreased need for sleep - more talkative (may feel pressure to keep talking, feels uncontrollable) - flight of ideas / racing thoughts - distractability - increased goal-directed activity (social, work, sexual, etc) or psychomotor agitation - excessive involvement in risky behaviors (spending money you don't have, 'sexual indiscretions', etc etc)

i'm not going to get into the criteria for bipolar ii at the moment, although i think you could argue daniil goes from bipolar ii in classic to bipolar i in patho 3 (this does happen; if are diagnosed with bipolar ii and experience even one manic episode, your diagnosis will change to bipolar i) if for no other reason than because his psychological issues have clearly grown more severe.

have some screenshots below the cut:

I've made up my mind. If I am not to go back victorious, then I'd rather blow my brains out with this very revolver. I'm cornered. I'll never be able to look the people I've failed to protect in the eye. My allies will end up in prison or exile, my research... in fire.

daniil stating he's going to kill himself in pathologic classic (he does this more than once, this is just the screenshot i have on hand)

Has he ever told you of the similarities the two of you bear? That you could end up in a position similar to his - and vice versa? That being an inevitable victim of circumstance is the only fate available to a genius? I ask you to be precise. A lot of things hinge on your answer.

aglaya comparing daniil to peter, who she's just described as being mentally unwell (and doomed) [it is my personal theory that peter represents the 'depression' and andrey the 'mania' while daniil is the 'mixed state']

I can barely understand it myself. Could death only seem inevitable to us, but in reality be nothing more than a whim of the will that had shaped this world? That is the question. So where is the key to my victory?

i'm sure you could say this is just daniil being pompous and this connection is a bit loose but i personally think this is what i talk like when i'm hypo/manic so i'm including it under 'grandiosity'

Murderers! Stop right now, or I'll shoot you!

did you know daniil can threaten to kill the people who burned the woman in the bone stake lot?

i could share every screenshot i have that i think points to something, but i shan't. that would be too long.

daniil's grandiosity in general is really easy to find because of his generally inflated self-esteem. in classic & patho 2 i think it's a little harder to make a case about whether or not he's 'just like that'; by my interpretation he's having a mixed episode, which starts out with inflated sense of self-importance and morphs into the other symptoms.

also i want to point out that daniil's actions do get more reckless as the game goes on. for instance, he mouths off to people more often despite that being a very dangerous thing to do in this town (calling saburov an idiot to his face, yelling at townspeople for being stuipd, generally getting more irritable in his dialogue options as the game goes on), he enters the abattoir despite being warned not to, he takes a bunch of pills and locks himself in plagued building to see if they work, he finds his way into fights - including against arsonists and soldiers.

for pathologic 2: there's daniil's breakdown in yulia's house about the inquisitor being like a divine pillar of light, where artemy assumes he's drunk because of how he's behaving; there's him killing the messenger on the last day, and telling artemy that he felt compelled to act because of how people have been spreading rumors about him for the past eleven days, the ending where he walks off into the steppe with everyone else to essentially commit mass suicide, he mentions killing himself a couple of times in marble nest as well... there's more but this post is already pretty long as it is and i have other writing to do. might come back to this later - and if you find what you're looking for, please let me know!

[wee-chlo]

Durge having chronic migraines after they move to Waterdeep with Gale. Mostly due to the severe brain damage but also the difference in atmosphere/humidity/temperature.

And they're Miserable, it's awful, its like.... weekly but Gale's so happy here, teaching and reconnecting with family and making new friends. He wants to have dinner parties and who wants to host a dinner party with a spouse who gets headaches from where their kind of sister/sort of cousin gouged a hole in their skull to put a mindflayer tadpole in their brain? So they hide it for as long as possible.

Until Gale comes home early one day and finds them curled up in the dark, basically nonverbal and utterly exhausted.

Gale's had more than a few cluster headaches in the past and his mother gets migraines so he has some idea of how to properly fuss. Makes cold compresses for Dirge's neck and to place over their eyes, keeps the room dark and his voice soft, keeps them hydrated. Washes off the cologne he wears and changes clothes so that there isn't any strong smells and as much as he wants to hold Durge, he keeps the physical touch to a minimum, especially around the head and face.

He ends up settling into the armchair next to the couch they're curled up in, mage hand summoned to turn the pages of his book so that he can hold their hand while the hours tick by.

He isn't thrilled by all of this, when Durge is coherent enough to talk to him about it. They're married after all; taking care of each other is part of the deal. His simulacrum can handle a few classes if Durge needs him home. Hells, his students would probably welcome a day or two of the damn thing over him.

"You didn't sign up for this though," Durge mumbles from their place on the couch, head sandwiched between two cold compresses, and Gale is frankly offended.

"I must have forgotten when you held a knife to my throat and demanded I propose marriage to you," he says sarcastically. "Or perhaps you forged my signature on the certificate while I was out cold? More of an Astarion move, I would think, but the two of you are close so I shan't assume-"

"I can't get up to smack you," Durge grumbles. "No fair." Gale rolls his eyes, fondness and exasperation warring in his chest as he ladles out the soup he's made for dinner

"I really do hate to bring it up," he says more gently, putting the bowl of soup on the table by the couch. "But you did try and kill me before. Made a truly valiant effort; lots of poetic descriptions of precisely what you wanted to do as well. I didn't seem for several days afterwards. So compared to that, this is fairly mild." He takes their hand in his and presses a kiss to it. "Well and truly within the bounds of the standard wedding vows, I'd say."

"That's different," Durge insists, rather ridiculously Gale thinks. "I'm supposed to be normal now. Not..." they groan and gesture broadly at themself.

"Gorgeous?" Gale provides teasingly. "Wonderful? Exactly who I want to wake up beside every day for the rest of my life?"

"Broken."

Ah. The perfect word to describe Gale's heart right at this moment, watching his love's shoulders hunch and their lips press tightly together in an effort to keep their ragged breaths from slipping out of their control.

"You're not broken," Gale says softly. "You're healing. There's a difference." He cradles Durge's hand like a baby bird, pondering. "Or, I suppose if you're broken, I am as well. Just differently. All of us are. How could we not be, after what we've been through? What we've done and seen? But if not for that, we wouldn't be together, would we? I'd be Gale of Waterdeep, you'd be the Butcher of Baldur's Gate. We'd never know each other and what we wonders we would achieve." He pressed a kiss to their palm, letting it curl to cup his cheek gently.

"Broken or no, our pieces fit together quite well, I think."

"Sappy," Durge says, but they're smiling and that's what matters.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I would like to request something for cotl

A follower Leshy with a reader who is kind of a plant worm like him but they're always covered in flowers and herbs that can be used for medicine, like, it grows out of them and they give the flowers and herbs to lamb as their way of helping in the cult among other simple tasks.

"Hello [y/n], may I have some-"

"NO!! They're busy, stupid Lamb!" Leshy snarled, turning his head in the direction of his "leader's" voice, wishing he could scowl at them. "If you want camellia, go find them in the land you robbed from-!!"

"Leshy, it's okay. What do you need, Great Leader?"

"....what..?"

Your fellow bagworm was dumbfounded as Lamb calmly requested some mint leaves from you. Nodding, you carefully plucked some of the freshly-grown herbs from your arm and handed a bunch to them.

They graciously thanked you, saying it'll be an excellent ingredient in the tea they wanted to brew, before walking away.

Leshy, on the other hand, was displeased at your actions.

While you were both the same species, you had a unique magical ability that allowed you to grow flowers, herbs, and many other plant-based resources from your own body.

They were painless to pluck off when they've fully sprouted, and quite frankly...it's better that you did so during that time.

Otherwise, you'd constantly be weighed down and unable to see where you were going..

You were once Leshy's follower, the head of medicinal operations in Darkwood, so he was understandably furious when he arrived and saw you here in the cult as well.

He firmly believes that Lamb "stole" you to abuse you as a resource, rather than treat you like a person.

Yet when he pointed this out, you simply laughed.

But he was dead serious.

"Stop laughing! You can be honest with your former leader. Admit it...you're tired of them taking and taking from you!"

"Oh Leshy, that's complete and utter nonsense." You shook your head. "Lamb has never once taken any flower or herb from me by force. I'm giving them away out of my own volition. Darkwood grows more dangerous everyday, so why should they risk they safety to gather camellia when they can just ask me for some?"

He scoffed in response. "At least put a price on your flowers if you're just going to give them away all the time.."

You were about to respond to him, when you saw one follower approaching you. They seemed to be blushing, eyes shifting around to ensure the coast was clear before speaking to you.

"[Y/n]? Sorry to interrupt, but I..I-I think I'm in love with someone!" They stammered, hiding their face in their hands for a moment, looking back up at you. "But they don't know I exist....may I please have some flowers to woo them with?"

Leshy was silent as he glanced in your direction, wondering if you were going to take his advice.

"Sure! But it'll cost you.."

He quietly snickered, seeing the follower looking quite nervous as they started fishing for change in their robe pockets.

"....just kidding, my friend. Lucky for you I've grown a bunch here." With some small clippers, you trimmed the bottoms of the camelia stems, gathering about four of them before handing them all to the follower. "Be sure to tie them into a bouquet so they don't get lost to the wind." You winked. "Best of luck to you."

"Oh thank you! Thank you!! I shan't forget this!" They squealed in joy, a bright grin on their face as they hugged you for a few quick seconds.

Then, with the flowers clutched closely to their chest, they dashed off to bequeath this gift to their crush.

"Unbelievable."

"Leshy, that's enough." With a frown, you turned to the ex-bishop, growing a tad bit annoyed with his whiny attitude. Since you were both on an equal plane now, you could talk back to him without fearing any consequences. "You're acting like you're the one growing flowers out of your head. Why does this bother you so much?"

"....it just..does, alright? But if you're okay with being a walking garden for all these unworthy morsels-"

"I am very content with my role here, thank you very much." You smiled politely, wanting this conversation to be over with. "Now, don't you have a morgue to attend to?"

"That's my brother's job.." He grumbled, glancing over at the pit of corpses, shuddering. "Damn him for going on a "spiritual journey" at this hour. I may be the youngest, but at least I don't run away from my responsibilities!"

"Right. So...what's stopping you from going over there? Those bodies aren't doing any good lying in that pit.."

"Have you been over there recently? It reeks." Leshy shuddered in disgust. "I can't go anywhere near that pit of rot. The smell alone makes me wanna vomit.."

"Then...would it help if I planted some roses around it to absorb the stench?"

He did a double-take. "Huh?? Since when did you grow roses???"

"Just recently." You chuckled softly, holding up your arm so he could see the blood-red rose buried in your leafy exterior. "I've followed you for years, Leshy, and yet..somehow I keep surprising you."

"You sure do." Sighing, he smiled a bit and decided to accompany you to the morgue, hoping your roses would do a good job masking the awful smells.

Even though he knew exactly where it was, he ended up holding onto your arm as you both walked.

Until now, Leshy never noticed how lovely you smelled, surrounded by aromas that weren't too overwhelming for him at all. If anything..it felt rather comforting.

He couldn't even scent the dead bodies anymore--there was only you and your beautiful flowers.

It seems Lamb's cult allowed you to tap into your full plant magic potential.