#indeterminable points. <3

[oakenbranch]

*

[nocturne-of-illusions]

me for the past few hours: wahhhh 3.ds servers wehhhh uweh sobbing crying wheezing

me 5mins later finding out a limited quantity saya no uta fumo is being released and i now have to force myself to fight the demon that is "adhd retail therapy":

[icyexecutioner]

“If you don’t want to talk about it, fine, but something should be done about it.”

❝ there's nothing to discuss, and thus nothing to be done. i appreciate the concern, takeba, but all is well. you don't need to worry about me. ❞

yet another late night spent studying shadows and the dark hour. sure, they were used to staying up until midnight to be active during the dark hour anyway, but it was well past 3 am by this point.

mitsuru couldn't just sit idly by, though. not while the shadows were getting more active, the dark hour more dangerous. she had to figure out a way to nip any problems they might have in the bud before they could grow.

❝ go back to bed, i'll be fine. you have classes in the morning. ❞ so did mitsuru, of course, but she didn't seem to care about that little detail.

[uncanny-tranny]

It's fine for your transition goals to be a man who wears dresses or a woman who wears tuxes or a person of indeterminate or queer gender wearing literally any combination thereof (or lack of combination, for that matter)

The point of transition is not to fit yourself into the cookie-cutter boxes. The point is for you to be able to exist as you. There is nothing wrong with being a "stereotype" or looking "queer". You are radiant and amazing <3

[amtrak-official]

The Time is 7:50 pm on a hot summer Tuesday

You're sitting in on the Valley Flyer on a Ticket to Northampton. The scenery outside the train is green and full of nature. Around you are 9 people of interest. A girl Loading her bike onto the train, a blue haired woman crocheting a sweater, a character of indeterminate gender reading a book, 2 young boys playing on their Nintendo DS, a ghost, a butch attempting to open her watercolor set, a man pointing a camera out the window and a little old lady muttering to herself. Beneath your seat lies a backpack, inside are 3 novels, a photo of John Lennon, Mineral Water and a laptop.

What do you do?

[mortuarywriting]

Falling into Place

Ao3 Link - [First] - [Next Chapter ->]

All things considered this isn't what you were expecting to wake up to when you went to bed. One minute you're on your phone, trying to pass out, and the next? You're here. You've had some interesting greetings in your life, but dropping about six feet and having twelve guns leveled at your face? That takes the cake

Warnings:

Reader Insert, Plus-Size Reader, The Author Regrets Everything, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Isekai, canon divergence Look we're gonna dig into the implications of omegasverse changing bits and pieces of history as well as addressing whatever the FUCK is happening as CoD's history. Idk man Godzilla is canon and nobody bats an eye at that fact and you think I'm gonna be normal about that? No

You could be having a worse day, you think, as you stare at the interrogation table you're cuffed to. They could've shot you the second you fell the six feet from the sky into a random army base. That's a very real thing that could've happened.

But no, you just had a dozen guns pointed at you in one moment and a slew of questions you didn't have satisfying answers for.

No, you had no idea how you got there. You'd been in bed tooling around on your phone and then you were falling.

They asked who you worked for, and were not impressed by your mundane answer. You didn't work for some pmc or intelligence organization. You asked them to their faces if they thought you could pass a PT test if you tried. Not that they answered or appreciated your point, mind.

It was only after you gave them whatever identifying information you had that things got… spicy.

"I would love to tell you what this designation of yours is if you tell me what you mean. Is it like a classification of civilian versus enlisted? Is it physical? Is it your horoscope? I don't know what I don't know," you explain again for the Nth time. You didn't wanna play twenty questions but here you fuckin were, captive audience and all.

The man asking you questions had lost his charming good cop look. He was getting more and more annoyed on this one, "your designation," a demand, not a question and sure as shit not an answer.

"Again, would love to tell you! I don't know what you mean! Feels like some kinda Star Wars thing," you grumble the last bit to yourself but the man cocks his head.

His eyes narrow, "what are… Star Wars, you said?"

You blink owlishly, "beg pardon?"

"Star War. Clarify."

It's your turn for your brow to furrow, and furrow it does, "Star Wars? As in the multi-billion dollar franchise created by George Lucas and eventually sold to Disney," your tone is questioning, just shy of asking if the guy lived under a rock but his expression didn't let up and the last thing you needed was bad cop, so you continued, "the story of what happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away? The political space series of movies versus Star Trek's more scientific and discovery based longstanding TV show? Nine major movies and the Clone Wars before Disney sunk their talons in. Like yeah we got more shows and movies that expanded the universe but they also cut out decades of book contributions in their acquisition and that kinda sucked. But yeah, that Star Wars?"

"Nine movies," his tone is disbelieving, and now it's your turn for your eyebrows to raise, "can you name them?"

You nod, "well yeah. Do you want them in episode order or release?"

His brows furrow, "did they not release in order?"

"In a sense? Three trilogies, 4-5-6 back in the late 70s early 80s, then 1-2-3 in the late 90s early 00s, and 7-8-9 through the teens. So order, yes, just… not a cohesive one."

"Release, then," he leaned back and crossed his arms, a position you'd love to mimic if you weren't cuffed to the table for… an indeterminate period of time now, actually.

"A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi-"

"Woah now, empire? What's a jeddy?"

You give him a blank look, trying very hard to mask your disbelief as you look between him and the mirror behind him. You look at your reflection, take a deep breath, and- "sir would it be easier for you to maybe check the internet?"

He seemed to bristle, nose flaring and looking at you expectantly.

You just… kinda sat there. You tapped your fingers together on the desk and kept the eye contact he was intent on. It took a good minute and him getting progressively pissier before you simply ask, "would you like the other movies now?"

You didn't expect an explosion of movement from the man. He downright snarled and slammed his hands on the table as he burst to his feet, the sudden change sending his chair screeching back before falling with a clatter. You leaned as far back as your cuffed hands would allow, eyes wide and a panic rising.

Both of you turned to look at the door when it slammed open with a barked, "Williams!" 

The man who opened it reared back a bit, "Christ, layin' it on a bit thick," he groused, his tone sounding more like someone chastising a teenager for using too much Axe body spray. He smoothed his posture back into something casual as he fanned the air dismissively with a hand, "cap wants you to take a walk."

Your interrogator- Williams, apparently- stares at the man in the door, the two locking eyes before the one in the door straightens from his purposely relaxed posture. You watch the both of them, noting the shoulders tensing as the two just. Staring at each other? Eventually the guy who'd been grilling you looked away and stormed out, the man in the doorway letting him slip out easily enough before turning a charming look back to you.

He took a minute to fan the door a few times to get newer, blissfully cool air in before he entered the room, "sorry 'bout him. He really did a number in here," the new guy tsked before closing the door quietly behind himself.

Your brow furrowed even as you slowly relaxed a bit, had this Williams guy like… farted or something? A nice quirk of ventilation keeping you from smelling something abhorrent? Either way you simply shrug as he walks in and tips the chair back up, sitting and giving another reassuring smile, "how you doing, love?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before simply settling on, "I'm a bit… whelmed? This has been," you give as vague a rolling gesture as you can without your cuffs rattling too badly, "a lot? And I have no idea what just set him off either?"

It's the man before you's turn to quirk a brow, "no idea?"

"If I knew the answers to his questions I'd've given 'em by now. I don't, though, and then he just started staring? And hell I just thought it was some kinda macho 'I can stare the truth out of you,'" you pitched your voice lower and pushed your shoulders out for a second to mimic the douchebag behavior before settling, "so I kept eye contact because I'm so out of my depth I have no reason to lie at all and now…" you trail off, gesturing around the room, "all that."

The man nods slowly, "alright love, could you tell me about the last five years?"

Your brows furrow, "oh fuck, 2019 was five years ago wasn't it. God, time is an illusion. Anyway, you want what I was doing leading up to and through the pandemic?"

You think he might've startled for a second but he simply moved to scratch his chin, "mhmm. Just your thoughts on the last five years is all."

So… you ramble. Because he was nice and not prodding or asking weird questions. You talk to him about your job before the pandemic, how people thought covid was just a flu until the death tolls kept climbing, how tons of governments dropped the ball on a local or country-wide level and how that kicked back onto your life, and then the absolute crapshoot of the last election cycle, the shitty 'oh no this is the new normal everything is fine' behavior that has lead to surges and cycles of a fucking plague and so on. He simply nodded, gave some sympathetic hums and winces appropriately at your experiences.

"And did you go back and watch Star Wars through that? Or other things Disney owned?"

And, well, that was a weird way to phrase it but you shrugged, "the mouse is just shy of a monopoly and not one that anybody can take that down so… yeah, I guess? They kept putting shows out and expanding their Star Wars universe so that's been kinda neat to watch but not just them, no. Couple other games and stuff like that to keep me busy, too," you kinda handwave and shut up because panic rambling to MILITARY PERSONNEL is probably not your smartest move in hindsight. Especially when you don't know his name. A+, self.

You tap your fingers against the metal table as he looks at you, "and you said covid has a long term effect of ruining people's senses of smell and taste?"

You nod slowly, "yeah, dude? It's one of the biggest warning signs for most people? Like if everything starts tasting like it was made by a middle class white mom who keeps shoving random letters in her kids names you should swab? That kinda shit?"

What rock has this guy been living under? You were pretty sure the military were supposed to be way more familiar with this shit all things considered, but you've been wrong before.

It was his turn to give you a bit of a wide eyed look before he poorly covers a laugh, "alright, that's fair. I need to go talk with my captain," he hooks a thumb over his shoulder to the window, which didn't surprise you that there had been people back there. He offers a reassuring smile as he stands, humming idly as he pushes the chair back in. He pauses mid-step, "you mentioned that there were cards…?"

You find yourself nodding slowly, "yeah it was important and you couldn't fly or go to certain places if you didn't have one for a while. Should still have a picture of mine buried on my phone," you really didn't wanna get another first-round of covid shots, you REALLY didn't wanna repeat the 24 hours of suck for no reason.

"Cool, thanks," he flashes another charming grin before he slides out of the room.

You lean back in your chair, what an odd guy. Nice though.

-------

"Right," Gaz says as he opens the door to Price and Ghost, "either our mystery guest is off her nut or she's legitimately from somewhere and somewhen else."

Ghost and Price look at each other before turning back to Gaz, this… complicated matters.

Well, it's not like you hadn't given them information to identify yourself. They'd dig up who you were one way or another.

-------

You stare blankly as the nice man from before gives you a sympathetic look, "what do you mean I'm dead?"

Behind him is a guy you're not sure if he's just fuckoff huge or if he's just moderately huge and it's forced perspective.

You don't think it's forced perspective.

You are absolutely trying not to panic spiral.

You are absolutely doing a horrible job at that.

"Well," he opens the file before him and there's a news article, proudly proclaiming "Locals Die in Horrible Freak Accident" like that's not some form of you that was looking like some smear on the pavement, "there's this. Fingerprints match up. Can check for dental if you're really curious."

"Were there even any teeth left after that," you mumble as you take and read the offered article. Seven people were involved, the pictures used are mostly flattering. Hell, you almost don't mind what pic they used for an alternate you but… "that's certainly not the pic I would've wanted. Maybe this me had different tastes?"

You take the time to actually read through the article. It's not helping because for as much as you stare at the page you're not absorbing any information. Some form of detachment, if this was really you? You'd died. A different you but a you nonetheless. You died and you're reading how it happened. There was a lot to unpack in all this and you just needed to put the suitcase away for now. You'd much rather throw it away at this rate.

You were rapidly coming to the understanding that you and Toto were not in Kansas anymore, and there wasn't a convenient yellow brick road to get yourself back home. No easy way to get the hell out of Dodge either. Was it Dodge or the O.K. Corral that was in Kansas? No the O.K. Corral wasn't in Kansas- Dodge was though, that's right. 

This analogy was getting away from you and some part of you figured this was just your brain trying to protect yourself but… wait, wasn't this a metaphor? There wasn't 'like' or 'as' or goddammit not again.

You recognize some names here and there but largely everyone involved were perfect strangers. The article doesn't cover if it would've been slow or quick. You hope for the smear that it was quick. Smears like that don't happen slowly, right? Well, not unless it's like a dramatic slide down a window, but not usually across pavement like that.

Still not sure how you feel about all of it. Bit morbid being confronted with your mortality like that.

Certainly answered a lot of questions about your theoretical passing you never thought about. Like if the obituary for you in what you know to be your own home and world is just as… really kinda just mediocre as this. Have you really done nothing of note for an obituary? Damn.

You kept pouring over the article, each pass bringing new words into focus that help connect the picture a little bit, but… Something repeated in the article made you pause, "two alphas, four betas, and an omega?" 

There was no decent way to ask about that. Any questions invoked from here would border into dangerous territory better kept between yourself and a private browser history. You knew what you were about but there was no fucking way.

"Their designations," the nice man whose name you still hadn't caught explains, "mostly explaining their secondary gender."

You look at him owlishly. You pray to whatever God might be listening that you wake up shortly. Or that the earth below your feet opens up and swallows you. Whichever comes first, the mortification will snipe you otherwise.

"Please tell me this is an elaborate joke at my expense," you are very quiet as you are trying to get really cool with a lot of things really quickly.

"Negative," the big fucker in the back practically growled and you knew that voice would do things to you if you weren't half stepped out of your own body. 

You missed whatever his followup was but your brow furrowed when you checked the date on the article, "I've been dead for months? That…" you let the paper fall from your hands. Everything about this is wild at best and very overwhelming at worst. 

A lot of this qualified as worst.

You look up at the two, missing the odd look they shot at each other as you try to pull yourself back together, "so now what? You've got a not-a-smear of me that fell from the sky onto a secure military base, and where I'm from we didn't have," you paused to gesture between the paper and the two soldiers, "dynamics was it? That was just a fanfiction special."

"Fanfiction."

The way he said it was so carefully neutral you paused, "oh my god without Star Trek to popularize fanfiction and the fan community, how has fandom evolved? Is fanfiction a thing- well, yes, it does fanfics have been a thing since Dante Alighieri wrote the Divine Comedy and even before- well, the question is more if it's still popularized? Are there still the wattpad fics of- I am getting so off track. What exactly is the next step?"

You look from the nice man to the big fucker and back, neither saying anything but looking at you with careful blankness.

You felt like you were being weighed and measured in their eyes.

You hoped to anyone listening that you weren't found wanting at least. Not when you're in the shit situation it looks like you ever so increasingly fell into.

"Considering I'm. Not smear. And very much not from here? Are blanks a thing? Or is that what a beta is I'm," you trail off, brow furrowing, "fuzzy. On the whole thing. The flavor of understanding, dynamics, and population skew tended to be dependant on the author's level of horny."

The did get a bit of a snort from the pretty one before you, the one in the back tilting his head just so as the pretty one spurred you on, "okay please don't take this the wrong way, you have given me nothing to go on but A/B/O and-" a finger was raised in question to that, you quickly explaining, "the fanfic shorthand for the universe without being a mouthful. Anyway- I've seen population numbers being roughly the same across the board, I've seen alphas and omegas at roughly 1% of the population of society on either end, I've seen alphas at about 5% and omegas at 1%- those ones are usually the most horny I swear.

"And it's all over the board, no consistency- sometimes it's betas are infertile, sometimes they're the straightman to the comedy that's an alpha and omega trying to woo each other without being too horny to function. Sometimes it's a sliding scale where being beta just means you're more the more middle-ground regulated hormonally with alphas and omegas being the opposing ends of a spectrum. Can you please say something and give me a fucking break because my panic rambles are probably like. Some kinda prejudiced. I'm still not over the 'I'm supposed to be a smear on the ground we don't even have dental images of to confirm who it is anymore' nugget you dropped on me. I think I'm doing well for this"

You would rather not tell them that as soon as you're out of this box of a room you were gonna be curled up in a ball and unabashedly weeping. That was none of their business.

The pretty one gave you what you're sure was supposed to be a reassuring smile but the quiet stretched just a bit too long. You looked from one to the other before leaning forward, "is this supposed to be soothing in some way? Because it's just a bit of an extended awkward silence and that's uh-"

It was the big one in the back's turn to give an amused snort, the pretty one looking bashful, "right, sorry, we uh-"

You jerk a bit, "wait, was that supposed to be some scent thing," you really didn't wanna say pheromones and potentially dig yourself into a deeper, more awkward hole based on Horny Pseudoscience.

Pretty rubbed the back of his neck, "something like that. You really couldn't smell anything?"

You know the exact Face you're making. It's very much your 'I have told you this and I'm getting tired of having to repeat it' face. You can tell he clocks it but for the record, because to your mortification this has to be recorded, you simply give a succinct, "no, I haven't smelled anything. Not from you, not from him," you jerk your head towards the big fucker, "and not from douchebag from be- Williams! His name was Williams. Nothing. Really had no clue why you were fanning the door when you came in."

You sigh, rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes, "okay. Assuming I'm not about to be put into past tense a second time. Do we have any idea what popped me out here?"

The sentences are stilted, you know you're getting more rattled the longer you're here but sue you alright it's been the worst six hours of your life here.

They just continue to look at you, pretty keeping a polite almost customer service look as big one just stares unceasingly.

"Right. Okay. Am I going to be reintegrated to society or is this," you gesture around the little room as much as you can, "looking like my home for the foreseeable future."

No change in what you can see of either's expression, and you just sag. Deep breath in, deep breath out, "cool. Alright. Well. I know nothing of how biology is altered here, I'm not sure how that has impacted changes throughout history, and frankly I don't know what your pop culture has done. I'm assuming math and written languages are largely the same but in all fairness I don't know what I don't know."

You just stare quietly at the table for a bit longer before looking back at the two of them, "is there anything else you need because I can feel the freakout creeping up and while I know there's no real privacy, uh…"

The pretty one looked back to the big one, at some point you're sure you'll get some sort of names but for now? Now you watch the big one nod, the pretty one give you a polite smile and some vaguely polite bullshit your brain is swiftly going too far out to hear.

You only hope that whoever is behind the mirror is polite enough to look away as you put your head down on the table and give yourself the opportunity to, just this once, cry. As a treat.

[Next Chapter -> ]

[fortheloveofkonig]

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Ghost x Male reader: reader is having trouble sleeping due to maybe PTSD so he starts over working around base and working more but forgetting to take care of themself. Reader pass out from exhaustion?

Summary: Your nightmares have been plaguing you again recently and in an attempt to make them stop, you busy yourself with other work rather than rest. Ghost seems to take a notice to this.

Note: I honestly had to stare at this a few times because I know I can do this because...well, relatable but it's scary to write for the first time in a new fandom. Thanks for requesting though! I hope you enjoy it ^^

Content: Mentions of nightmares, implied PTSD, not proofread, this is so short? I'm so sorry! Fluff!?

Word Count: 836

Ghost x Sleepless M!Reader

Nightmares are not unheard of for you. They've happened for a long time at this point and each time they show up again, they never get easier to deal with. How were you supposed to deal with them? It's not like with any of the mechanisms you use to rid of them ever help you, as shown by tonight's restless night of moving around because of an overwhelming background fear of the moment you close your eyes for too long.

After a while of your tossing and turning, you sat up with a huff and ran your hand over your face. Another sleepless night, so you figured you may as well just get up and do something. You made your way to the armory to clean up some of the weapons.

It started as small errands like that until you decided to take on extra paperwork as well as looking over training. It took a few days for anyone to notice that your duties seemed to have multiplied as well as the bags under your eyes.

Ghost was the first to notice. He's dealt with many of sleepless nights himself so recognizing someone else who seemed to be avoiding every possibility at a chance to catch some shut-eye was not very hard to do. He didn't know if he should say something, it wasn't really his place to speak up about your sleeping habits but he also had a deep care for you.

It wasn't until you were the one that approached him that he was pushed to say something.

"Hey LT.!" Your voice was upbeat, too upbeat, as if you were trying to feign that you were well rested and energized.

Ghost lifts his head up from the papers he was reading, only responding with a soft hum as acknowledgement. He figured he knew where you were about to take this.

"I know that you are usually looking over the training and I was wondering-"

"No." He cuts you off.

"What?" You stood back in shock and cross your arms, "What do you mean 'No.'? You didn't even hear what I was going to say."

He lets out a sigh, "I know what you were going to say and I said no. You need to stop taking on everyone's work load."

A huff comes from your mouth as you start to retort but Ghost puts up his hand, which halts any words from coming out of your mouth.

"Rest is what you need to do."

You let out another annoyed huff and turn to leave the room, "but why would he ever listen to me" is the last thing you heard him say as you left for the gym.

You actually spent a good bit of time doing your routine. Stretching, jumping jacks, weights, sit-ups, pull-ups, all of that jazz. Now it was time for the beloved push-ups.

1...

2...

3...

It took an hour for someone to find you but Ghost was the one who walked into the gym to find you snoozing on the floor in his usual spot, to which he just lets out an annoyed sigh but had a disguised smug smirk underneath his mask.

"I told ya, should've went and slept." He says while making his way over towards you.

He assesses the situation figuring that it would probably just be best to pick you up and take you to your bed, rather than waking you up with the chance of you fighting rest again. He bends to pick you up and once you are in his arms, you mumble something indeterminable and grab what you can of his shirt into your hand to which he lets out a soft silent chuckle, but his chest moves silent so that's what sleep deprived you believed it was.

It took only a moment for Ghost to arrive at your bed and he started to softly put you on the bed. Much to his dismay, you didn't let go of him. In fact, your grip just got tighter.

When he reached his arm up to remove your hand, now basically fully bent over the bed just so he doesn't wake you by ripping your hand away, you opened your mouth to quietly mutter, "Stay.."

It took a moment for him to process what you just said but when he realized that your grip was not getting looser anytime soon, he let in and pushed you over some.

"Fine, but only until you are asleep and you can't let anyone know I gave in this easily." He mumbled under his breath and stiffly got onto the bed next to you.

You hummed in acknowledgment before scooting closer to him and laying your head on his chest. After a little while he seemed to lose the tense feeling in his body and relaxed as he watched you fall asleep on him. He didn't see himself being able to move anytime before you woke up from this slumber so he just got himself comfortable.

"Goodnight sleepyhead."

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 6

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,318

TW:MASSIVE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!!! (TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, MY WRITING IS NOT WORTH YOUR HEALTH), Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), Blood, Panic Attacks, Hurt Comfort, SUI ATTEMPT, Crying, Really Depressing, lots of POV swaps, Not Edited

A/N: Thank you for all of the support that I’ve been getting for this story, this chapter is really heavy… PROCEED WITH CAUTION. Please do not read if it will negatively impact your health, this story on tumblr is not worth it. I’ll put a brief summary at the beginning of the next chapter, for those who need to skip. This is probably the worst that it will get. Love you guys so much 🥰

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

I woke up to Chris wrapped around my waist, just like I had for the last seven months. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this facade, but I also don’t know if I can let it go. The worst part is that I can’t even vent to my best friend, seeing as he is the cause of this whole situation. I stare down at Chris, his hair is so soft. I feel the burn of tears in my eyes, trying best to stop them from falling. Failing miserably.

My sniffles cause Chris’s to lift his head up to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I tell him it’s nothing, not a big deal. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, he sits up looking deep into my eyes. “You can tell me anything Y/N, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or anything.” I just cry harder. He pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around me as I burrow my face into his shoulders.

we stay like that for an indeterminate amount of time. I cry until I physically can’t anymore, Chris doesn’t make me explain myself.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I barely sleep anymore.

Y/N has been drifting away for months now, and it scares the shit out of me. I’m scared that if I fall asleep she’ll sneak past me and relapse. I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost her, I don’t know who I would be.

I’m scared to leave her alone, to the point that I don’t even want to leave her to go film with my brothers. The fans have commented on how many videos we’ve made at our house, rather than our usual car videos. I just tell Matt and Nick that I feel bad leaving her alone without us.

I knew it was a mistake to leave her alone tonight, but the fans were getting suspicious. We made the decision not to tell the fans, since we didn’t plan for this charade to go on for so long. I don’t know if I can end it, I’m too in love with her to imagine laying in an empty bed again.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV (start of the really bad stuff)

The guys left to film a car video, it’s been months since they did that. I haven’t been alone long enough to think about relapsing, but sitting alone in Chris’s room, the feeling of loneliness is crushing me.

I need to distract myself. Chris would be so disappointed in me if I didn’t, and I can’t call him while he’s recording. I’ll cook myself something for dinner, the guys will be happy to eat when they get home.

“”“”“”“”“”

Dinner came and went, and I still didn’t feel better. I was scared to call Chris, I didn’t want to bother him and his brothers. It was a mistake.

I stare down, my legs tore to shreds and the wounds on my wrists, I need help. I don’t think I really want to die, I was just overwhelmed. I can’t let them find me dead. I can’t make them hurt the same way that I have. I need to call someone.

I reach for my phone, trying desperately to open it. The blood on my hands makes everything harder, but I can’t get up to get a towel. If I stand up I’ll surely pass out. I’m already lightheaded, just hoping that Chris answers my call.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I’m laughing with my brothers and I don’t notice it at first. A small buzz in my pocket. There it is again. As soon as I pull it out I panic.

LOML 🥰 CALLING… ✅ ❎

“Guys! Stop talking real quick.” I immediately press the answer button. “Baby… is everything okay?”

No response. Fuck.

“Matt we need to go home.” He gives me a worried look, but before he can say anything I’m talking into the phone again. “Baby, I need you to talk to me… tell me everything is okay.”

there’s a second before she responds, I can tell that she’s been crying based on the sniffles from her end. “I fucked up Chris.”

My heart drops.

“go faster Matt!” Fuck. “What happened, I need you to tell me what you did!” I don’t mean to yell, but I’ve never been more scared in my life.

“I don’t want to die…” No. This isn’t real. It cant be.

“You aren’t going anywhere, I promise.” I quickly turn to nick and tell him to get 911 on speed dial. “Please just keep talking to me, I need to hear your voice.”

Matt breaks multiple laws in an attempt to get home, but I don’t notice. My whole focus is on keeping Y/N talking. When we get home we all rush upstairs.

“Nick, go sit in the loft.” He looks offended when I say it. “She wouldn’t want you to see her like this, I don’t think she’d ever forgive me if I let you.” He stays where he is. “Please Nick!” My voice cracks as I say his name. He leaves with tears In his eyes.

“Matt I need you to get the first aid kit from under her bed, it should have everything I need.” With that I open the door to the bathroom.

the scene in front of me is like something straight out of a horror film. I can’t even tell where the blood is coming from. I immediately rush to her side.

“I’m so sorry… I tried to distract myself, I promise.” She’s rambling, but I don’t mind. I’m trying so hard not to cry, but she looks so pale.

“don’t apologize, I’m not mad, nobody is mad” it doesn’t stop the tears, she’s still a sobbing mess beneath me.

Matt returns with the kit, clearly distraught. “It’s okay Matt, it doesn’t look like she needs stitches.” He looks frozen in place, and his breathing is erratic. Shit. “Go sit with nick… she’s going to be okay.” After a few moments he finally pulled himself out of the doorway.

by the time I’m done cleaning her up, Y/N’s tears have dried up. “You don’t need stitches…” I stare at the deep lines that run across each wrist. “But it would make the scars smaller, do you want to go to the hospital?”

“NO!” She’s shaking her head violently. “Please don’t make me go, they’ll take me away again!” I can see the tears forming again.

“ok, we don’t have to go.” I grabs the butterfly bandages, and start pulling the skin together, before tightly wrapping it with gauze. She’s more covered in gauze wrapping than actual clothes at this point. I carry her to my room and get her changed, before taking her to the loft.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Chris changed me, being very gentle around my gauze, and then he set me down on the loft couch next to Nick and Matt. I hear him mumble something about them staying with me while he cleans up.

I can see the relief in Nicks eyes when he sees that I’m alive, Matt just locks eyes with me and leaves. I never meant to upset him, but I can’t seem to find the tears for it right now. I fall into nicks chest and he just holds me.

I tell Nick everything. The relapse. The fake dating ruse. The fact that I really do love Chris.

He just tells me that it’s okay. He promises me that he’s not mad.

Once Chris is done cleaning the bathroom floor, he takes me to lay down in his bed. He’s so gentle when he snakes his arms around me, careful not to hit my arms or legs.

“I told Nick…” he just stares into my eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to love me anymore, there’s no point in lying anymore.”

“who said I was pretending?”

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann

[panlight]

hi!! i’m so sorry to keep sending you asks (if you get sick of it please just let me know and i’ll shut up i promise!! 💕💕)

so this is re: the cullens being in high school, as per the ask you answered a couple days ago! i also always thought it was super weird, and i’ve been thinking for a while now that a MUCH better cover story would for them all (even carlisle and esme) to be grad school housemates (i say this as someone who has now spent two years in grad school and is about to be there for another five at least lmaoooo)

here’s why i think it would work:

1. the age weirdness wouldn’t be as obvious bc people of all ages go to grad school (i started when i was 22 and had classmates in their 40s)

2. related to age, the visible/physical age also wouldn’t matter as much since some of my classmates (me included 😭😭) looked like we could still pass as high schoolers while others gave off huge “kids and a mortgage vibes” even if they were just like a year older

3. the whole looking “off” and tired thing is just like. the grad school Look™️. the shadows under the eyes and general gaunt-ish appearance honestly wouldn’t stand out that much and if somebody said something about them looking “off” or whatever, they could just be like “late night studying” and the other person would be like “lmao so true bestie”

4. if they pretended they were all renting space in the same big house (and carlisle and esme just acted a little less parental), the whole “dating each other” thing wouldn’t be that weird at all. i feel like it’s not that uncommon for couples who get along to rent different floors or sections of a house, and if they didn’t pretend to be one big weird family situation and instead just acted like they all met each other at school, i don’t think people would even bat an eye

5. people go to grad school forever. like. for so long (i vaguely knew of someone who was in the eighth or ninth year of her phd). esp if they picked something like a big state school where the “kids” could go to undergrad first, they could realistically do four years of undergrad, maybe a two or three year masters, and then a phd of indeterminate length (usually at least five). that would allow them to stay in the same place for at least 11 years

and this is not an official point, but i will note that for carlisle to still do his whole doctor thing, i think it would be perfectly reasonable for him to have already “graduated” or whatever, but continue to stay with his “friends” for financial reasons, or just bc the living situation worked for everyone

anyway, i’m so sorry this was so long, and honestly i bet someone has already said this somewhere before, but it just struck me when reading the “why tf are the cullens in high school” post that grad school would be such a great cover story for them

haha anyway thanks for putting up with my ramblings and thank you for all the lovely work you do on the blog!! 🥰🥰

I've definitely seen "just put them in college!" before (and I have made that argument myself) but I don't know if I've seen the grad school cover story specifically before!

It would allow Esme and/or Carlisle to be the 'peers' of their children rather than some sort of guardian or parental figures. They could, as you said, all be renting a house together and Esme could be studying architecture or getting a PhD in art history or whatever while the kids study who knows what. Maybe there's a medical school as well and Carlisle can go back (it still makes zero sense that Edward and Rosalie go "to keep him current' like how is that supposed to work? They come home and just recite from perfect vampire memory everything that happened in calls? Wouldn't Carlisle be keeping current by like, idk, actually being a doctor, reading journals, going to conferences, and continuing education?).

A group of friends renting a house together as a bunch of couples makes way more sense than two parents barely visibly older than their foster/adopted kids who all date each other.

And, honestly, it's probably a better use of their time to get actual advanced degrees rather than stopping at undergrad? I know because of secrecy how they use their knowledge and skills is somewhat fraught but like, publish papers under a false name or let someone else take the credit or something and you can still contribute to the world of academia.

[mumms-the-word]

Gale and Mystra (and Mystra, and Mystra...)

I did a rabbit hole deep dive into this a few days ago and I have Thoughts. Prepare for long/researched explanations (and by researched I mean I read a lot of wikis and scraps of lore books/novels)

So Mystra dies in the Forgotten Realms something like three times (the “official” number is wibbly because there are many writers messing with Forgotten Realms lore and they don’t always agree). She dies in -339 DR, and then again in 1358 DR, and then kind of again a few months later. Allegedly she stayed dead until 1479-1480, which is roughly 12 years prior to the events of Baldur's Gate 3, but didn't get her body back until 1487, which is 5 years before BG3, which takes place in 1492 (if we're going by the Baldur's Mouth Gazette year).

So...what do we do with that and the current popular theory that Gale was groomed as a child?

If it sounds complicated, don't worry, it's more complicated than you think. Welcome to my TEDTalk. More under the cut.

Mystryl, the first goddess of magic (like, ever) dies hundreds of years prior to the events of BG3 during the Karsus/Netheril debacle. Karsus tried to steal her deity/power and succeeded only to realize his mortal body/mind couldn’t contain or control that much power. Mystryl sacrificed herself (her essence, her power) to keep it out of Karsus’s incapable hands. The Weave went wonky for an indeterminate but brief amount of time, during which the floating cities of Netheril crashed to the ground. This happens in -339 DR, over ~1700 years before BG3. Gale tells us a brief version of this story in his standard dialogue. It's also established lore in campaign books.

Mystryl was reborn as Mystra (still in -339 DR), and this Mystra lasted for AGES. This Mystra is the mother of all magic, the Mystra we basically think of as BG3’s Mystra. This is the Mystra that met and claimed Elminster as one of her Chosen (later they became lovers, it's a whole thing).

But this is complicated. Because in 1358 DR…she dies too.

Long story short, for a brief moment, the Overgod Ao forced all gods to walk Faerûn in their mortal avatar forms and denied them entry into heavens (this was called the Times of Troubles, very complicated, the point is, gods were walking the earth as mortals). Mystra decided to fight Helm, the god guarding the stairway into the heavens, and got promptly smote.

Smitten? Smited? Whatever. Helm DESTROYED her. Death #2.

This time, Ao chose a mortal girl named Midnight to replace Mystra. He imbued Midnight, a wizard girl who worshipped Mystra, with Mystra's powers (Mystra conveniently left an amulet behind with some of her power contained within). Incidentally, the Weave didn't die this time like it did the first time. Convenient!

Midnight-Mystra lasts less than a year before Shar and Cyric (god of trickery) kill her and the Spellplague happens. The Spellplague is basically 10 years of magic going haywire and the Weave kind of ceasing to exist. Again. It's complicated.

Ignoring that some Forgotten Realms writers insist the Spellplague didn't happen, BG3 says it DID. One book in BG3 states:

In the infamous, calamitous year of 1385 DR, a conspiracy between the goddess of darkness, Shar, and the god of trickery, Cyric, sought to end Mystra's control over the Weave and influence over the realms by cravenly assassinating her. But instead of merely breaking the goddess of magic's dominance, her death threw the Weave into utter chaos and collapse. Magic spells faltered, or failed entirely. Countless spellcasters were killed or driven insane... Toril would face nearly a hundred years of upheaval before Mystra could return once again, reinstated as goddess of magic in 1480 DR, thanks to the efforts of the legendary wizard, Elminster Aumar and the events of the Second Sundering...

(Curiously Gale’s Countermeasure Abberation at the Netherbrain fight is called Spellplague so...do with that whatever you want. I mean, I know that’s the Countermeasure for ANY wizard in the party but it feels particularly interesting for Gale. Also we're going to ignore the Second Sundering in this post because that's a whole different rant, just know that the Second Sundering means the state of the world and the pantheon of gods basically got soft reset and then locked into place. Which is why it was important for Mystra to return before that happened, or else she would have gotten locked out of returning at all.)

As far as I can tell, between 1385 and 1479, Mystra was silent. Maybe dead, maybe not. There's some suggestion that she existed in the Weave, because other than the Spellplague period, the Weave still existed. The fact that the Weave exists separately from Mystra is important mostly because Shar wants to turn it into the Shadow Weave, which she can't do if Mystra is alive and maintaining control over the Weave. And if Shar can't control the Weave even while Mystra is silent for 100ish years, then...well. Mystra must not be dead-dead.

More importantly than Shar Politics, her being maybe-dead for almost 100 years means she wasn't whispering in the minds of her Chosen the way gods like her normally do. The wikis mention a comic ("Lord of the Darkways") where Mystra spoke directly to Elminster's mind, but that's the only instance before 1479. Mystra was SILENT before 1479...or at least, very, very, very quiet.

So what happens in 1479? Well, long story short, according to the novel Bury Elminster Deep, Elminster travels to a cave where there is a bear carrying some Mystra's remaining essence/power. Why a bear? I have no idea. Point is, she speaks directly to Elminster and confirms that she is, indeed, Mystra. Specifically, she's pre-Midnight Mystra and also...changed into a newish Mystra.

This is some of what Elminster thinks/says when he's speaking with her and notices she's guarding some artifacts:

“Ye collected these things when ye were Midnight?” El blurted, trembling in a sudden chaos of wanting to know so much, yet not knowing what he dared ask. Her love—or at least fondness—was in his head and all around him, but something was subtly different in it, a distance that had not been there once, or rather one that had grown since Midnight had ascended to replace the Mystra his far younger self had first touched and tasted. Gone was the Mystra whose mind would long ago have merged with his to let them converse wordlessly, thoughts flashing.

Bear!Mystra has been guarding things that Midnight!Mystra collected, things that were important to Mystra!Mystra. Confusing, I know. So who is this current Mystra, speaking to Elminster as a bear? This is the Mystra that would then go on to become lovers with Gale.

Now, I'd argue it's basically all the same Mystra. There was Mystryl and then there was Mystra in her many forms. The Mystra that become lovers with Elminster when she selected him as her Chosen 1300 years ago is the same Mystra that took Gale as a lover too—even if she's died and transformed a couple of times.

It’s worth noting that the novels also sort of mingle all the Mystras into one. In the next novel, Elminster Enraged, when another character called the Simbul (another Chosen of Mystra who is also Mystra’s daughter) is speaking with Mystra, they talk about how Mystra has memories both of previous Mystras and of several Chosen. When the Simbul asks if Mystra can sense her current Chosen, Mystra confirms that she can sense her daughters and Elminster.

“Wasn’t that the Mystra before you?” The Simbul dared to ask. Echoes in the Weave, my daughter, echoes in the Weave…we see and feel so much that happened before us, in the Weave; it becomes part of us, the memories of the Mystra who birthed you becoming part of me, so I become that Mystra…

Anyway. Mystra is Mystra. Basically the same Mystra she's been since the fall of Netheril. Why does that matter? Well.

When Elminster is talking to bear-Mystra, she gives him a command: “I charge you to preserve magic wherever and whenever you can” and also; “Recruit new Chosen and gather them here for me to confer with. I need many, and they must be different from my daughters and from each other…and above all, I must have those I can trust.”

Okay, granted, this specific command probably doesn't apply to Gale. Gale never talks about being gathered as Chosen to help usher in Mystra's return. Remember, she's gathering Chosens so she can restore herself to godhood before Ao clicks the "Save" function on his universe post-Second Sundering. That's what this command is referring to.

Elminster does end up choosing several potential Chosen for Mystra (plus he goes on to steal a whole bunch of magic and gives it to Mystra to restore her back to godhood; this happens at the end of Elminster Enraged). Elminster spends part of Bury Elminster Deep, Elminster Enraged, and The Herald (three back-to-back novels) gathering Chosen or...well, killing corrupt Chosen and stealing their power to give back to Mystra. Mystra begins speaking into the minds of those who worship her in Elminster Enraged (around 1480) and the end of that novel has her appearing as a very grand spirit type of lady, but she's only seen restored to her actual corporeal goddess body at the end of The Herald, which is set in 1487.

So what does this have to do with Gale??

Simple. I have two theories.

Theory 1: Larian just ignores timelines and maybe wanted to create a new grooming narrative for Gale

Listen, Larian has a ton of writers and not every writer can be expected to maintain ALL of the lore Ed Greenwood and other writers wrote for the campaign books and novels. The Forgotten Realms is like 40+ years old. It's been through every iteration of D&D rules. Mystra dies every time the Wizards of the Coast revamps their magic rules, to the point where Ed Greenwood literally had Elminster say, in one of his novels, “I think Mystra’s fall was part of a cycle fated to happen again and again, as the Weave—as all magic of this world—needs renewal.” Elminster fourth-wall calls out a "fated cycle" that is just WOTC remixing magic rules.

Hell, maybe Larian knew that and wanted Gale to be part of the next cycle of Mystra-death-and-rebirth. Raphael certainly suggests something similar if Gale ascends to godhood and plans to usurp Mystra. That's a rant for a different post.

Anyway. Point is, it's a lot of lore, and a lot of it contradicted itself before Larian ever got their hands on it. The writers knew enough to know that Mystra picks Chosens all the time and that she's been known to be lovers with her Chosens. They probably took that and ran with it. Gale was chosen by Mystra and become lovers with her and the timelines don't matter, and maybe there are hints that Mystra groomed him as a kid. Maybe Larian just ignored Ed Greenwood's lore that Mystra didn't speak to any of her followers until like 12 years before the game. That's fine!

But if that theory doesn't seem to vibe, consider theory 2 (which for the purposes of this analysis suggests Gale is a cool 35 for convenient math):

Theory 2: Gale didn't actually hear or meet a corporeal Mystra until he was a consenting adult (NOTE: this does not necessarily mean he wasn't groomed)

Brief timeline, again.

1385, Mystra and Midnight both die and anything resembling a goddess of magic goes silent for nearly 100 years. Early 1400s? Elminster hears Mystra's voice but she's otherwise silent for everyone else 1479, Elminster meets Bear!Mystra, begins finding other Chosen of Mystra and gathering power for Mystra 1480ish, Elminster restores power to Bear!Mystra and she Officially Returns (but like, quietly and we still haven't seen her body, she seems to be just spirit and stardust) 1487, Mystra now has a body because she does this Big Reveal at the end of The Herald by entering a room where five of her Chosen are

If Gale is 35 in 1492, then he was 30 when she "officially" had a body again, and 23 when she begins speaking to her Chosen (or those who worship her more broadly) after a century of silence.

Obviously this theory breaks the current ongoing theory that Mystra revealed herself to Gale when he was 8, or at least a young child. However, does the game really support that theory either? Elminster's letter to an ascended God!Gale only says:

Do you recall the day we first met, m’boy? You could have been no more than eight summers’ old, clutching your mother’s apron…

He doesn't say anything about telling Gale that he is a Chosen at the age of 8 or that Mystra personally has an interest in him. Maybe Elminster was just wandering around and met Gale, or perhaps someone wrote to Elminster to tell him there's an exceptionally talented mage boy that he should meet. Elminster doesn't tell us the circumstances of the meeting, so we'll never know. The one thing we do know is that Elminster has known about Gale since Gale's childhood. There's just nothing in his letter proves that Mystra was actively speaking to Gale when he was 8, or even telling Elminster to choose Gale that young.

Keep in mind, if Gale is 35 in 1492, then he was 8 in 1465, well before Elminster had gotten the charge to maintain the Weave and select new Chosens for Mystra.

Then of course we have Minsc's comment that:

While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm?

I want to point out that this idea that the Rashemi people hide Weave-touched boys from Mystra's sight is completely new lore. Ed Greenwood explained a bit of how he views vremyonni boys/men being secluded in a series of tweets from 2020. Basically, because a wychlaran (female witch) is also a kind of ruling/religious class in the Rashemi culture, male spellcasters create a power imbalance, especially because they have access to more powerful spells than the female spellcasters. To combat this, male spellcasters are hidden away to avoid political imbalance and end up serving as enchanters/weaponsmiths for the wychlarans. Or they leave and become wizards elsewhere.

The idea that the Rashemi hide the boys away to either a) protect them from Mystra's icky amorous tactics or b) protect their communities from Mystra encouraging grand, destructive ambition in their menfolk, is probably unique to BG3 alone...and that's if we can take what Minsc says at face value.

Can we?

Minsc proves time and again he doesn't think much of wizards. The only thing he likes about Gale is that he can explode. I think he mistrusts male spellcasters in general because of his culture. So his comment could just be Minsc taking a jab at Gale while also not accurately representing his culture (possibly by offering an explanation that he just hasn't thought through all that thoroughly).

The fact that he says "young and prideful boys" is curious, regardless. Does he view Gale as a boy, because Gale is technically younger than Minsc by several decades thanks to Minsc being a statue for a while? Is it derogatory? Is it a remark to say that Gale's ambition is a bit juvenile, as wizard ambitions tend to be? Who knows. Minsc's dialogue isn't always as surface-level as it appears.

So...was Gale groomed?

I guess that depends on your definition of grooming. Adult-to-adult grooming is absolutely a thing. It's a cycle of manipulation, isolation, and gaslighting that leaves one person, the victim, in a twisted, unequal relationship with their abuser. So, yeah, Gale absolutely was groomed by his goddess. Point blank. Period. She rewarded his magical talent with sexual/emotional intimacy. He responded with love, intimacy, adoration, etc., that she was incapable of reciprocating as his equal, because of her power of authority over him (over all wizards) yet she used it to her advantage, and then tossed him aside when it became inconvenient for her. Absolutely she groomed him, and she's an abuser.

But if we're merging Forgotten Realms lore and timelines with BG3 timelines, then our understanding of Gale's perspective of all this shifts a little. Instead of a child chasing after a goddess who is stringing him along, it becomes Gale, the child prodigy, desperately trying to understand magic in a world where the goddess of magic is silent, possibly dead, and the Weave is trying to repair itself after a devastating Spellplague a few decades earlier. It becomes Gale in his teens, not understanding why the others think he's so odd for burying himself in his studies to impress a goddess who might not even care, if she's even alive. It becomes a young adult Gale overwhelmed with awe at the first rumors that Mystra might finally, finally be back, and hearing her voice for the very first time. It becomes Gale, in his late twenties, finally staring into the face of his goddess, someone he's had blind faith in before he even knew for certain she was capable of hearing his prayers. It becomes mid-thirties Gale, who has grown up with a patchwork Weave and a missing goddess, plotting to restore even more power to her by finding an elusive bit of errant Weave and making the biggest mistake of his life. It becomes a story of Gale who probably looked forward to the return of Mystra with so much awe and longing, only to be used and cast aside by her within a dozen years of her return to godhood.

No wonder he felt that godhood was not only well within his grasp, but that he could be a more deserving kind of god.

It's not a perfect theory, and a lot of Gale's dialogue suggests he was a young man, probably early 20s, when he began an intimate relationship with Mystra. He also implies that she spoke to him for some time before they ever became intimate. He describes her first as the Mother of Magic, and then his teacher, and then his muse, and then his lover. So what are we to believe?

Well...that's the frustrating beauty of D&D and Forgotten Realms and Baldur's Gate I guess. The lore is wibbly wobby and malleable. You do what you want with it.

[writingoneout]

Untilted Katamari Reflections

Preamble:

Content considerations for the following include:

Parental abuse

Bigotry

Worldly anxiety

You're welcome back another day if that's too much right now.

I.

It’s fall of 2015.

You and your virgin college friends drink shitty cocktails called the “Slutty Will Rodgers.” They’re just Pepsi rawdogged with indeterminate amounts of grenadine and Captain Morgan. When you bought the mixers a Wal-Mart stocker yodeled “OOOOoOoooOH, maKIN sOMe DRINKS?!?!” and you knew it was time to leave.

We Love Katamari is on the Telly. It’s a sweet, trippy game you first bought to cope with high school. On Dark Fridays at 1am, when your inbox was barren and your balls were full, you’d drive to the empty gym downtown and sprint six miles. Then you’d come home and replay the firefly level until you fell asleep with your pug.

Your college friends are bad at the game, so they pass the controller. You’re playing the underwater stage. A spaceman falls in the pond of people gunk and stacked crabs. It’s going really well if you’re honest. You point to the screen and say “this’ll be Florida if Trump wins.” See Fig. 1.

Figure 1: Rick Desantis has big plans for Disney.

Your friends don’t reply because they soon won’t be virgins and their tongues battle each other’s. It’s a different game they play, one with fuzzier rules, but greater industry respect. You wish the campus gym was open 24/7.

. . .

Your skills as the prince are not inherent. You first meet him in 2005, when your dyspraxic hands can barely tie a shoe. Your parents catch you lose shit for the Toonami review of Me and My Katamari. They buy it for Christmas, hoping to steady your nerves while your father’s in therapy.

Dr. Flam is a Neo-Freudian hitched to your mom’s guy, Dr. Flim. She’s deep in your dad’s dream journal and makes him watch movies like Cool Hand Luke to really reign in his ego. He gets the DVDs from the Netflix site, then through the mail. As a family you watch your dad’s therapy films and reruns of Inyuasha.

In the waiting room you barely navigate the sticky ball through Namco Bandai’s Satoshi Kon parade. See Fig. 2. You’ve only seen adults express anger verbally, so when you mess up you grunt a lot and let out those Leopold Butters Stotch swears like “crap,” “shoot,” and “gosh darn.” You’re not particularly self-aware, so you probably just say “god fucking damn it” a few times and don’t remember. Years later you realize there was probably a secretary behind the glass watching you do all this.

Figure 2: Bwahbwahwabhbawahbwaaaaah.

Sometimes there’s a girl in the room with you, just around your age. She’s stuck while Dr. Flim teaches her mom about what dream snakes mean for her fear of male puberty. That's what he did for your mom, anyway.

You think the waiting-room stranger is cute, but you won’t admit you like girls yet, especially not to yourself. To cope with the cognitive dissonance, you do your weird shit louder while refusing to make eye contact with her. If you get real stressed you crank up the main menu track and yell “ahhhhh that’s so relaxing” while the “nah nah nah nahs” play through your headphones.

At one point the girl stands against a wall and stares at you with her arms crossed. You bet she thinks you’re cool, but she’s probably just annoyed and hopes you’ll notice, or maybe just ask if she’s OK. It’s probably good you don’t talk with her. You might ask something stupid, like if she's seen the roach corpse in the stairwell. It’s been there for a year straight, isn’t that crazy?

For better and worse, you power through your little game alone. Every time you lose the King of All Cosmos beats, shoots, and belittles you. See Fig. 3. It reminds you of when your own dad shattered your Harry Potter wand over the kitchen counter because you dropped a mini pizza.

Figure 3: The King of All Cosmos offers little constructive advice, all things considered.

You fail quite frequently. Eventually you drop the game because it’s getting stressful and you have the power to relieve yourself of the situation—not the Freudian lobby, just your fake dad.

II.

It’s 2012. PlayStation Network uploads The Prince’s primeval outing: Katamari Damacy. Within, Padre Cosmotic flaps his gums over too much hooch then slams his dump truck ass through the better part of our solar system. He dislodges every recognized constellation and even the moon itself.

Cosmos sends Prince to Earth—the last brick left in the shitstorm—to make slop of our planet and bodies. With the slop space itself will be made anew. The Good Son does as he's told, and every living entity experiences euphoric ego death within the bulbous heaven of the Katamari.

As a Real Gamer Teen you lose a lot less in this one. You really go in and fix Fake Dad’s mistakes, no problem at all. This is why a year ago you hailed “gaming journalism” as your calling. You write clean and play tight; should keep the lights on. It’s the most concrete idea you’ve had since 7th grade when you outlined a YA novel called Tooth Pocket. Even you didn’t think Scholastic would buy that one, though. It was just too hot for the book fair.

One day you’re cranking through FFVI and your real dad swings by, mad you're young. He grills your ass and says “I bet you can’t even tell me the biggest thing happening right now.” It’s some real “What’s a gallon of milk cost?” shit, he could mean anything.

 Surprisingly, you can’t think of a good answer. You and your friends are actually pretty informed because John Stewart is still at the desk and y’all chime in every day. See Fig. 4. You also spend hours each week tearing through MSN slideshows in your Graphic Design class because the Photoshop takes five minutes. You’ve seen a staggering amount of the Syrian civil war.

Figure 4: Sometimes in Snapchat you draw glasses on your cat to make him look like Mitch McConnel. You wouldn't do that without this guy.

Still, you’re a little stumped. It’s the middle of a phenomenon native to moralist presidencies known as "a slow news week.” You actually ran out of war shit the other day and clicked through some slides about Pakistani wrestlers. The seniors who offered you Jack Daniels in the Whataburger lot saw it and laughed. They thought you were peeping dong in class. You really weren’t, but they didn’t believe you. They graduate certain you were bricked up in the Dell Lab over big guys in spandex.

“I don’t know,” you tell your dad.

He throws his hands behind his head, hard, like an orangutan chucking logs at a poacher.

“It’s the fucking carbon tax,” he yells. This comes as a surprise, you think, because that shit is last month’s news. It really didn’t go anywhere.

“Do you not pay attention because you don’t give a shit, or are you just a nihilist and think you can’t do anything?” You can tell in his eyes he thinks there’s a real answer. “Seriously, which is it?

You don’t remember what you said. You probably just stammered until he walked off.

A month later he picks you up from marching band. Your phone is dead, so he had to wait twenty minutes longer than anticipated while you found his car. He punches the rearview mirror until the windshield cracks then screams of how your birth kept him from New England.

III.

It’s 2016. A rockin’ MILF in the Psych department gets you really into Hamilton. See Fig. 5. Every day you wake up on the grind and blast “You Aaron Burr, sir?” through your shitty 7-11 cans. While cramming foreign language Quizlets and McGraw Hill Online you do this thing called “Hafilton.” It’s where rock up to “Nonstop” and quit listening just before Hamilton decides what he will stop is being a good husband.

Figure 5: Like Kojima, you know "MILF" is a mindset, not a factual inquiry.

It’s 2018. Your grades are notably better and you’ve snuck into the honors program. Like Hamilton himself, you really flourished at 19 and thought about running for office. You immediately abandoned this idea after remembering your allergy to recordings of your image or voice.

You cohabit with the Psych MILF, and she offers some advice: she’s really had her boots on the ground with this whole “clinical psych thing” and honestly, respectfully, she loves you, but dear God it might not be your scene. It’s taken a real toll on her and the friends, and she can’t imagine you going through that shit.

At 1am in your living room you boot up DOOM (2016) and listen through some Hamilton. Angelica is thirsty on main when you remember that you, yourself, could be a lawyer. You don’t have to run for Congress to fight the establishment. There’s just the common law, and it’s right there. You can just get your grubby little hands in that shit and work your magic.

. . .

It’s the last semester of undergrad. Your Western Thought professor says Hamilton wasn’t really a huge deal and really James Madison shat out the big parts of our faction-proof empire. Yes, there was, in fact, a civil war, but the caplock rifle worked it out. After the Federalist papers he has you read the Bill of Rights but no Supreme Court cases. There’s a lot of talk on negative liberties.

Just before finals, the learned doctor says your generation only has two things to worry about: the climate and the poverty. Yeah they’re big, he says, but they’re just two things. You’re crafty kids, smart as the framers, even.

. . .

The state decides law school is your jam and lets you come inside.

There’s the negative liberties but you actually read Supreme Court opinions when the big boys aren’t shaking fists for Valley Forge. They have you listen to Hamilton for context. You feel dirty. An LRW professor puts on the “I’m Just a Bill” video and your sectionmate with Ivy degrees gets really, really mad.

. . .

The Federalist Society has a comfy presence at your law school. Along with Big Oil they sling out free pizza to every Little Scalia with a rumbly tum tum.

On your way to class you hear what the pizza boys feel. They hate Europeans, those social democrats with the rotten armories and clumpy cash. The Euros, they think, give too much wiggle room for the mentally ill, and by that they mean they mean gay people and probably just women overall.

There are more than two things to fix, you think.

. . .

The pandemic hits. You and some pals start a Google Doc to stay afloat. It barely works. In the Zoom review for the property final your professor catches multiple people crying. "You don't have to be here," he tells them, “there are other jobs.”

. . .

A year passes. You’re in a niche public interest class you do all right with. The professor looks you and thirty-five others dead in the eye and says how sorry he is that law school is traumatic. You shed a single tear in your little window. You're pretty in the shit and haven’t worn pants to class in months.

Then public interest prof takes a big, big drag from his long, fat spliff. He spins his desk chair and baseball cap at the same time, never letting go of the joint.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s not your fault, really, but the world is fucked. It’s time to fix what your parents did.”

The next week he gives a practice exam where the best solution is to sell an old lady’s house to Nestlé.

IV.

It’s 2022. After throwing your whole gooch at it, you fail the bar exam.

You fall back hard into exercise. When you’re not slamming Barbri you’re at the gym binging curls and cranking the Chainsaw Man soundtrack. One night on the way to squats you finally hear “Black Parade.” Just like you, Mr. Gerry Wayland is stuck between global disrepair and the desire to write Funny Little Books.

You just started an FLB yourself, actually. It’s spin on a Story Break episode you love. In your version there’s a fucked up civil war horse that moves like a spider and is covered in bugs. Rich people kill the planet then the horse gets lost in space. It’s compelling, you promise. There’s body horror and pirates dressed like Gorton’s Fisherman. See Fig. 6 It’s about the horrors of the contemporary world state. It’ll be fun.

Figure 6: An untapped horror icon. Imagine blood contrasting that yellow.

Big problem, though: you remember rich people love hiking. There’s no grass on Mars, not that good shit anyway. Would they really fuck all of it?

You edit. In the last few years, the real breathless ones, the oligarchs cash their tab. A cartel, they think, could really muscle those stragglers, the tragically common. There’s one city left with both breathable air and refugees. They level it. The few survivors are spread amongst the stars, so their loves and languages may die.

. . .

It’s the middle of Bar Prep Round 2. You and the patient MILF see Hadestown in the Big City.

There’s a juke joint on stage flanked by devil trombones. A sad little guy slinks in from the janitor’s closet. His name is Orpheus and, just like you, he’s a sad, short writer who likes a lady so much it comes out weird. He has a vision, he says, for a little ditty. It’s compelling, he promises, and shit’s gonna change. His love is functional and realized, worth the investment of a hardened woman displaced by capital’s torture. She believes him.

You cry because you know where this goes.

It’s just a single tear.

Don’t worry.

Nobody sees.

. . .

There’s this game you like, by some corporate anarchists who hate themselves. They’re Scandinavian, from the spot in Tallin where you stopped for a cruise. Every gift shop there had swastikas and gas masks leftover from the bloody years.

In the game is a liberal yacht MILF. She thinks you’re stupid but someone’s helping with your gun, so you’ve got that on her. And yet, she pins you, re your whole writing thing. See Fig. 7.

Figure 7: She sucked, but it still hurt when she left.

Your favorite Supreme Court podcast says the ocean’s last hope is other countries. But those countries’ people cry to the Disco game, and their ministers also bought The End of History. You meet them on the subreddit. You're all geeked out, waiting for the tide.

. . .

It’s the era of desert cradles. God thinks you’re disgusting, so he sends his better kids with a memo: the flood was too much work on his end, it’s time for something different.

“Just keep walking,” he says.

Your skin bares his figure. So do the corpses. You little birds among billions, gassed out and screaming, move to clean.

V.

It’s 2023.

We Love Katamari is up on the PlayStation store. You sit with the cats and mow down some crabs. You don’t need it so much these days, but it’s nice.

There’s a Bar card in your wallet, just below your gym tag. There are two interviews in your Google Calendar. Good stuff might happen, hopefully soon. You crawl into bed and wrap an arm around your wife’s rib cage.

Everything matters and nothing is safe.

You are loved enough to sleep.

[thecreaturecodex]

Shobolon

Panels from Bone, © Jeff Smith

[Sponsored by @glarnboudin. Bone is a comic series that I remember reading and loving in undergraduate. And the "Stupid Stupid Rat Creatures" were my favorite characters. They pivot from menacing to comical and back on a dime, and have a very distinctive look. Their culture (or lack of it) has some very interesting world building implications, and they're one of the better riffs on the "evil minion species" in fantasy literature that doesn't go for wholesale deconstruction. However, they don't have much in the way of distinctive abilities in the comic. So I had to do some work to ensure that they were mechanically interesting.

A word about the name. In Bone, they are only known as "rat creatures", which says some alarming things if rats are sapient and seven feet tall. The name I went with was suggested by @abominationimperatrix. It's an Eastern European rat-ogre, but information on it in English is super sparse, to the point where different sources disagree whether it's Romanian or Romani.]

Shobolon CR 2 NE Monstrous Humanoid This shaggy, bulky humanoid has wide red eyes and a wide mouth full of sharp teeth. Its ears rise to a sharp point, and it walks on its knuckles.

Shobolons are voracious monsters that tend to live in large numbers. They are larger, stronger and slightly dimmer relatives of ratfolk, although the two species rarely interact on friendly terms. Their endonym is rarely spoken—most people just refer to shobolons as “rat-creatures”. Shobolons are omnivorous, but greatly prefer meat, and they don’t particularly care if their meat comes from sapient sources. They tend to fight from ambush, using their skill at climbing, swimming and squeezing into tight spaces to attack from unusual angles. They are fond of using the Intimidate skill to demoralize their foes, screeching hideously before moving to set up flanking positions or retreat from a losing battle.

Most shobolons engage in dramatic body modification. Their long scaly tails are docked shortly after birth (shobolon legends tell of these tails being used as handles by a wrestling demigod who humiliated them in the past), and their ears are cropped upon reaching adulthood in order to grant them a more threatening appearance. Shobolons do not have names of their own unless granted by a member of another species, or by their rulers as a reward for meritorious service. Despite their foolishness and lack of material culture, shobolons tend to be erudite, and like using long words in order to sound smarter (“hello, small mammal” is a common greeting/threat). Shobolons tend towards religion, and different hordes often venerate different gods or powerful fiends. Shobolons universally fear and hate dragons.

Shobolon Rulers Shobolons are very long lived, and display indeterminate growth. One that lives for hundreds of years and feeds well may grow to immense size and power. This growth is somewhat disproportionate, as their arms do not grow to scale with the rest of their bodies. A shobolon ruler often uses titles like King or Queen, regardless of how many shobolons they rule over. Such creatures are Large in size with 12 racial HD. A shobolon ruler has improved grab and swallow whole with its bite attack, gains frightful presence as a special attack and has undersized weapons as an SQ. A shobolon ruler is at least a CR 8 creature—many of them have levels in fighter or cleric beyond their racial HD.

Shobolon CR 2 XP 600 NE Medium monstrous humanoid (ratfolk) Init +5; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +4 Defense AC 14, touch 11, flat-footed 13 (+1 Dex, +3 natural) hp 19 (3d10+3) Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +2 Defensive Abilities tight fit Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee 2 claws +4 (1d4+1), bite +4 (1d6+1) Special Attacks startle Statistics Str 13, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 10, Wis 9, Cha 10 Base Atk +3; CMB +4; CMD 15 Feats Improved Initiative,Skill Focus (Intimidate) Skills Climb +10, Escape Artist +7, Intimidate +8, Perception +4, Stealth +6, Swim +10; Racial Modifiers +4 Climb, +4 Escape Artist, +4 Swim Languages Common Ecology Environment temperate forests and hills Organization solitary, pair, troop (3-8), army (9-24 plus 1 2nd-4th level fighter per 20 individuals) or horde (25-200 plus 1 2nd-4th level fighter per 20 individuals and 1 ruler) Treasure standard Special Abilities Startle (Ex) A shobolon can make an Intimidate check to demoralize an opponent as a move action. An opponent intimidated by a shobolon cannot make attacks of opportunity as long as it suffers from a fear effect. Tight Fit (Ex) A shobolon suffers only half the usual penalty to Armor Class and attack rolls when squeezing. Two shobolons can fit in the same space and fight without penalty.

[mixelation]

more on reborn au au (au squared) obito. technically includes plasticity spoilers?

okay so my goal in plasticity is NOT to "redeem" anyone or have anyone change their personal goals. so obito reincarnates and he still wants his moon's eye plan but also he is a little baby. i think i'll let both him and itachi keep their magic eyeballs but they don't have enough chakra to actually DO much with them until they're older (i guess like 12-13 bc that's when itachi was an ANBU captain, but it seems like neither of them should be able to be casually spamming mangekyou until they're adults)

however i think obito is uuuuuh easily distracted. like he can make a convoluted plan and carry it out-- he IS an uchiha thank you very much-- but also he's going to get sidetracked by just doing random shit for the lulz. this is why in canon he spends months harassing deidara for no reason. so he determines he must put his evil plans on hold for an indeterminate amount of time and WAIT A SECOND he hang out with rin now!!!!

i think he'd actually be very frustrated with trying to maintain a friendship with rin? like he put her on the HIGHEST pedestal but at the end of the day, she's a normal young girl. she's sweet to him but she's not as interesting as he remembers and she's a kid so she makes mistakes and also, obito is kind of insane and all of his peers Sense This about him. so he likes checking on her and doing short social activities with her, but he's not having hours long heart-to-hearts with her anymore. they're not as close. also if anything happens to rin obito will kill everyone in konoha and then himself

obito is kind of like "whatever, i'll be a genius this time around, that looked fucking fantastic for kakashi" so he attempts to be A Genius but it turns out if you're better than everyone else your age, adults expect you to..... do things?? obito is his own boss he doesn't just DO things smh. so he sets up this weird dynamic where he get lauded by his family but his family is also like uuuuh why aren't you graduating early??? BUT BECAUSE RIN IS THERE AND HE NEEDS TO LOOK AT HER

also, incredibly annoyingly, kakashi can still beat him sometimes because kakashi is a weird genetic freak. instead of just continually kicking his ass obito has just put more pressure on him to get stronger. horrible

konoha gives obito to minato and is like: there is something deeply unhinged about this kid but he had a sharingan at 8 so. do something with that. and unfortunately minato trying very earnestly to mentor obito is sort of endearing, and obito didn't realize the first time around how many strings minato pulled to get rin into medic-nin training and keep them off the frontlines as much as possible and obito..... will let him live this time, maybe.

at some point obito catches wind that danzo is sniffing around kakashi and so he breaks into danzo's home and is like "aaaaw how cute, but kakashi is mine. keep it up and i will kill you <3" and scares the living shit out of danzo. (minato is SUSPICIOUS obito Did Something but this does mean MINATO no longer has to do anything, so he doesn't ask questions)

the minute obito thinks he can use kamui more than once without giving himself chakra exhaustion, he starts poking around internationally. there's no real goal except MAYBE find and kill zetsu and madara, he's just Doing Shit. and in Doing Shit he runs into the Ame Trio and realizes there's more than one reincarnate?

obito: oh.... oh my god

obito: (kamuis directly into three year old itachi's bedroom) HELLO????

itachi: (OH FUCK????)

so i think the obito-itachi relationship is obito realizes he has a sounding board for all the various random shit he's been doing and whining about how his friendship with rin is weird, and also what if he claims kakashi by nonconsensually implanting one of his eyes??? no no, you're right, it's better if obito has two eyes to make up for not being half hashirama cells.

also his presence makes itachi 10x more feral

itachi: if you decide to kill everyone again, you have to give sasuke to me, unharmed. if you don't i will ruin your entire. i will kill you as painfully as i can. this is non-negotiable

obito: whoa whoa whoa little coz!!!

obito: i'd only kill the old people :)

itachi: aaaaah

obito isn't really interested in uchiha massacre 2.0 though. he doesn't care if itachi murders danzo, and he'll eat popcorn while watching but he doesn't offer help. he convinces itachi to swap eyeballs with him for the EMS, but itachi really wants SASUKE to inherit his eyeballs once he's old enough so Obito might have to swap? again? with sasuke?? fine, whatever. this new version of team 7 all think he's bonkers and sometimes walk on extreme eggshells around him, but they're NICE to him and he's not going to fuck that up. minato will ask kakashi and rin to babysit once he has his brat kid, never obito, but obito doesn't really care because it means he has more time to go harass other akatsuki members

and then kakashi is taken hostage (UNFORGIVABLE) and it turns out. there was someone ELSE he could have been bothering this whole time!!!

obito: tori PLEASE join konoha it will be SO FUNNY

obito: anyway excuse me i'm burning down kusa <3 here hold kakashi for me. omg, DEIDARA'S here too??? *_*

someone commenting on obito watching itachi and tori gay chicken (straight chicken?) each other so hard they end up married so i've been debating how his presence affects this dynamic. i think he obviously makes it worse. because he cottons onto itachi's Girl Problems the second they start and he keeps trapping him in social situations and giving him "dating advice." so itachi is even MORE desperate to get a stable girlfriend to get his entire stupid family yo leave him alone

itachi: i'm dating tori. i haven't told her yet

obito: this is

obito, tearing up: the greatest gift you could have given me

also obito supports book club SO HARD and comes to every meeting

[operationslipperypuppet]

something about… mee maw’s burden. and it being of survival. of responsibility. of a sacrifice you made, of your own volition, and told no one about.

the first time we hear it, of course, the titular time, is when mee maw comes clean to moonshine about having crick rot. a burden she has carried for an indeterminable amount of time. one that she’s willing to shoulder, until it kills her, because she has to keep helping the cricks who are sicker. she knows it’s eating her alive, and she couldn’t tell anyone. until moonshine.

i’m skipping a lot here because of a point i’ll get to in a moment but one of the more prolific scenes it’s used under is “how long do half elves live?”. now, obviously, there’s an obsession with that moment for hardshine reasons, but moonshine’s point is about something much deeper. she took on an ability, quietly, that would extend her lifespan beyond the realm of comprehension. she’s doomed to survive that long if something doesn’t kill her first. and she’s willing to do work that takes time, things that will slowly rebuild the world, work that will make it all worth it. but she never wanted this. she was planning to learn a new type of magic to avoid it, the burden of living beyond all your friends, of knowing that there’s one day, sooner than you’d like, where everyone who ever meant anything in your early life is long gone. and she tells mee maw. who gets it, who has to get it, because she’s dealing with the same thing.

when we jump ahead to the far too many (for the part of me that doesn’t like weeping before 8am on a friday) uses for gowan kilde in campaign 3, it’s a little subtler. for the most part, it’s used as he’s talking to calder about his responsibilities as ranger general. the things he owes to the village. the things he owes to his mom. in retrospect, he’s talking himself into justifying his decision to make the deal with alexandrite. his burden lies with the protection of the village. his duty as leader (much like mee maw’s) to stand up and do what needs to be done for their at large survival. and maybe if he can explain some of it to calder, it’s off his plate.

most of the crick songs, and by this i mean the ones about crick people and not as much those from the elemental chaos, have an element of hope to them. some sort of positive you can spin from it. gunslinger’s girl is about reminiscence, the bittersweet aspect of it, and how there were good times once. greener shades has an aspect of looking to the future, one that particularly comes from its use with balnor’s letter, where things are unknown but will be better. hell, even prodigal sister, a deeply devastating death dirge, has that component where you can feel that this person is returning home to the crick. for mee maw’s burden, it tends to be an element of relief.

because a burden shared is one that’s less heavy. that’s the final element of the song, it’s not simply about the devastation of a burden of surviving, of leading, of making a choice no one else could. it’s about the relief you feel when you share it. moonshine and calder are the ones who directly stop the bad thing that their family member is going through. jolene is able to commiserate with moonshine, to reassure her, because she’s doomed to the same sort of life.

to put it through an evil twist, it’s what plays when calder asks ultrus for the deal. because he’s looking out at an impossible fight, where callie is practically alone and sol is seconds from death, a thing his friends are certain to lose. and he can’t lose them, even if they lose. so he asks ultrus for help. and ultrus provides that relief. he takes a lot, too, but the relief is there.

with mee maw’s burden, you’re going to survive. you are perhaps doomed to. that deal you made will crush you under an enormous weight. but maybe, just maybe, the person you talk to about it can supply just enough leverage that you can get free.

[amtrak-official]

Previous Round

@neenernina The Time is 7:50 pm on a hot summer Tuesday

You're sitting in on the Valley Flyer on a Ticket to Northampton. The scenery outside the train is green and full of nature. Around you are 9 people of interest. A girl Loading her bike onto the train, a blue haired woman crocheting a sweater, a character of indeterminate gender reading a book, 2 young boys playing on their Nintendo DS, a ghost, a butch attempting to open her watercolor set, a man pointing a camera out the window and a little old lady muttering to herself. Beneath your seat lies a backpack, inside are 3 novels, a photo of John Lennon, Mineral Water and a laptop.

What do you do?

[thewisaaaaad]

SINCE I CANNOT FIND THE WORDS FOR THE TRANSITION

I have decided to create a timeline for my au, that should help me figure out how i want to lay it out

BW stands for before war: before the great war between gods that wiped out all but five.

AW stands for after war, when the final god was felled, the tyrannical god of Law that was cut down by Narinder

DW is the uncertain time during the war, because time and seasons ceased to have meaning, as night and day clashed, as time struggled to find peace, as no one, god or mortal, could find rest.

TIMELINE BELOW CUT:

universe is born. Chemach, Clunek, and Kludaii are created.

BW, some indeterminate time far in the past, soon after the universe: the first crowns are crafted, one being death, by Chemac.

130 years BW: shamura is born

108 BW: Kallamar is born

103 BW: Narinder is born, with Hypnos alongside them. Narinder is orphaned due to him being an "ill omen"

98 BW: kallamar is adopted by shamura

97 BW: Shamura earns the crown of war in a ritual held by the old god of war

91 BW: Narinder and Hypos' town is destroyed by a battle between Ala, god of storms and harvest, and another minor god. Narinder becomes a bandit to survive.

89 BW: Kallamar earns his crown as a successor to the previous god of plagues, do to his diligent research into the root cause of sickness (germs discovered)

87 BW: narinder encounters his first ghost, does a good deed for the dead at the behest of Hypnos, causing him to miss Shamura

86 BW: Narinders first encounter with shamura. Immediately adopted, due to shamuras visions

84 BW: hecket born

83 BW: Narinder finds his crown, with the old god of death having gone missing. they tend to do that.

80 BW: hecket is adopted, and leshy is born and adopted soon after. narinder found him :)

71 BW: the god of feasts dies suddenly under mysterious circumstances. no one knows what happened, except that they were murdered.

64 BW: Heket is chosen by the yellow crown. as was foretold.

64-63 BW: on new years, leshy just shows up after running off wearing the green crown. no one knew there was a crown of chaos before. Narinder is delighted.

45 BW: the Murder of gods continues to happen, and fingers are being pointed. narinder is a prime suspect, but his family defend him

25 BW: as the murders mount, someone steps forward to claim responsibility: Lucifer, god of law. He announces that any god that does not bow down to him will be slaughtered in 25 years. Sides are chosen, friendships broken, but the family remains together, Shamura being determined not to get swept up in this mess.

0 BW: battle horns are blown, war rages across the world. Seasons stagnate, the sun and moon fight, and still war itself declines to intervene.

?? DW: Chamech is wounded, and loses their mind. no further crowns are made. the war rages on

?? DW: time is dead. the sun and moon, without their gods, slowly take their original places again. few gods remain, but now War and their siblings enter the fray.

0 AW: Even law falls to death eventually. Many gods have been lost, allies that the 5 may have had going forward would not survive the battle. as was foretold, as always was, as always shall be.

the god of dreams and their crown fade away into nothingness in deaths arms.

3 AW: the old faith is established. Narinder now has little time to himself. the most time he gets to spend with hypnos is when he goes to sort the massive backlog of souls in the afterlife: gods and mortals, all slain in the conflict, both sides having worthy and wretched souls amidst their ranks.

he is not bored. Hypnos is always there to help him, when a judgement is hard for one person to decide.

256 AW: narinder finally manages to sort away the last of the souls that have died within the last century.

278 AW: narinder is now bored. Cult leadership is not for him, He's better at doing paperwork than administrative work. at least then he can have Hypnos by his side.

narinder begins to consider necromancy.

312 AW: narinder has perfected the art of resurrection. He did not even need his siblings help. all he needed was Hypnos. but it was not enough to bring hypnos into the world, to keep them by his side. he needed to delve further.

334 AW: narinder has hit a roadblock in his experiments, and goes to his sibling shamura for aid. Shamura is horrified that he got this far, but doubly so when he asks for ways to grasp power even further from his purpose, especially for someone who might not exist. Shamura fears their brothers madness. Shamura admonishes him, and he swears to halt his experiments. Narinder swears to do just that, and keeps his word. But Shamura is already possessed by Envy.

335 AW: Shamura raises their fears with their siblings. Hecket and Leshy are disturbed by what their brother has done (mostly because shamura says its bad), but Kallamar is initially facinated by what his brother has achieved, and is pressured by the others into fearing him. Kallamar may have been startled by Narinder before, but he could never fear his brother. he did fear Shamura. he feared that THEY were the truly mad one

350 AW: Here godly blood was spilled. Here Death no longer wished to wait.

Narinder is sealed, unhealing wounds are given.

Hypnos, narinder, and Kallamar, shed tears. Rage, misery, and regret.

Envy seeps deeper into shamuras broken mind.

1167 AW: Aym and Baal are born, and then stolen to be given to narinder.

1320 AW: Lambert is taken as a heretic, because they are unresponsive and could not deliver any praise to shamura. they are selected by shamura for an experiment.

1321 AW: Shamura commits the greatest heresy, and creates Hypnosis body. the red crown is made dormant to soothe the pain of the existance and torture that Hypnos finds themselves in. Narinder does not know where hypnos has been taken to. The crown does not have the strength to show him. he only knows that they are in pain.

1368 AW: Lamberts younger twin siblings, Adam and Eve, Rescue Hypnos from the tower, not realizing that the heavily disfigured and extremely expressive Sheep that they saved was once their sibling. They think Lambert is dead, and for all intents, he is.

1368: Hypnos flees from his rescuers, desperately seeking someone who could help them. they run into Kallamar, who seeks to amend past mistakes and takes in the lamb to mend their broken body. Heket learns of the fate of the red crown, and goes to inform leshy while kallamar helps hypnos recover.

1369: after making a miraculous recovery, and somehow keeping the lambs existence in Kallamars castle a secret from shamura, he takes it upon himself to train the lamb in the art of combat. The lamb favors curses, as their limbs are sill fragile and the crown is still unresponsive, though its eye is now open.

1370: a plan is hatched. The lamb will go to slay the mad sibling, now obviously so after having lost the lamb. The other bishops will amend past mistakes, and shatter the chains that they guard while the lamb shatters the fourth.

1371: the plan is executed. everything goes perfectly; the chains are shattered, and shamura is put to rest.

then everything goes wrong. The purple crown, now fully controlled by envy, puppets shamuras body. It gathers devotion, and then releases a maddening pulse that corrupts all the other crowns.

Then, having been the one to create the web of energy that ties Hypnos's soul to Lamberts body, disconnects the two with one slice.

The corrupted red crown returns to the underworld, and pride swiftly consumes the lord of death.

Hypnos would fall here, but a crown calls out to them, from a familiar realm that resembled the state that they had lived in for so long.

The crown of dreams rests heavy on their head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's all for now! i still want to keep SOME secrets >:)

hope this'll keep ya fed for a bit