#it's one of those decorating games where you only have a handful of items at first and have to unlock everything else

[flash-from-the-past]

Pany Pang Lovely Girl Merry Christmas

(from web archive)

[kujiba]

¡MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE!

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

A/n: I made this while drunk /jk

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 5

Were you high? Possibly.

Did you feel like you were floating? 50/50

You stared directly at the glowing screen plastered infront of you, with your eyes full of focus.

CHOOSE YOUR ELEMENT: ELECTRO, HYDRO, PYRO, DENDRO, ANEMO, GEO, CRYO

'Ah.. This will be hard' You thought to yourself while nodding and looking away from it. Gazing your eyes back on the screen you either were highly delusional right now or...

You had been gifted the ultimate weapon! A system!

You're not a dumbass you've seen those novels, tv's, Mangas, animes, manwha, all that kind of stuff! So you had some bits and pieces on how to roll with this new kind of power.

Back to the main problem... Which element should you pick? Every element in the game is highly valuable and could be used with many different ways. The question is what would benefit you more in the situation you've been put upon.

Currently you had been locked in a cell by whoever knocked you unconscious, but your suspicion leaned more in the knights of favonius. You shaked your head telling yourself to deal with the problems one by one.

"Damn.. Which do I choose" You clenched your lips together tightly and scratched your chin with your own finger. Being indecisive and having a bit of a problem to choose from the choices given to you by the system.

You knew you had to pull your ultimate move.

"Innie, Minnie, Miny, moe..." You mumbled while your finger hopped it's way to each element on the screen "Catch a tiger by its toe if it hollows let it Go, Innie, Minnie Miny, moe." Your finger slowed down by the second and finally took a halt when the song ended.

You looked at the element carefully too see what the fate has given you!

"DENDRO"

YAHOO!!

Your excitement honestly didn't come from the element you choose but the thought you could have your own powers and vision!!

"Gimme DENDRO!" You declared to the system with a prideful voice, A systematic noise rang through your ears in a unpleasant way, soon after the noise came to a halt, a small glowing jeweled amulet began to descend from the air.

"Holy..!" You stared in awe as the jewel gently dropped to your hands. A familiar glowing green vision with it's outer areas decorated uniquely in a high quality silver material.

Quickly enough the system box appeared in front of you yet again.

"CONGRATULATIONS, LEVEL UP TO UNLOCK MORE SKILLS, POWER, AND ITEMS"

The system then showed a long box filled with words and numbers that you immediately understood from your long gaming experience.

[NAME]

Lvl 1 / 20

Max HP: 929

ATK: 34

DEF: 21

Elemental Mastery: 0

Max stamina: 240

Crit rate: 5%

Crit DMG: 50%

Energy Recharge: 300%

"..."

GODDAMN! Why was your energy Recharge so high?... Actually no- that isn't a bad thing, it'll be good for you to just keep spamming your burst till the enemy drops dead.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a pair of footsteps made their way too where you currently are, you quickly hid the vision behind your back, afraid they might try and take it from you if they ever found out about it.

A familiar blonde and brunette made their way in front of your cell, you gripped your vision tighter remembering clear as day what had happened, your suspicions not even faltering for a second.

"(Name)." Jean called out, she placed her hand on her chest while looking at you calmly. Amber was by her side looking at your every movement, Jean continued "Were not here to hurt you. It's the opposite really" Jean's eyes looked soft and humble...

But that doesn't excuse them for knocking you out so harshly.

You deathly wanted to talk back to her but kept your mouth shut, only biting your lip harder so that nothing would come out and spill something important.

"Please, don't be wary of us.. We're your friends" Okay now she was spouting bs. Sure you've met amber for ONLY a bit but Jean was still technically a stranger to you!

You sighed to yourself "How long are you going to keep me in here?" you asked with a tad bit of impatience, you leaned your head back on the solid wall while narrowing down your eyes at them.

Amber responded to your question "Its..it's for your own good (Name), please trust us. We're keeping you safe" Amber's tone was yet determined but also worried. Jean placed her hand on Amber's shoulder and nodded.

"We'll explain to you everything later" Jean was about to say something till you cut her off "Why not now?" You asked tilting your head to the side.

Jean looked at you then down at the ground "There.. Are still some important things we had to arrange. But even so don't try to escape, this is for your own good (Name)"

"Ha? What do you-- AND... they left" You grumbled seeing them leave you all alone in here again.

✿

"Hey system." You called out to it while playing around with your vision. The system appeared again by your side "What is it?"

A Google translator like voice came out of the box, you had this thought for a while now. "Will something happen to me when I escape this place?" You questioned it.

It took a while but the Ai voice returned "Judging from my information I have gathered. You are currently a 'GOD'."

Ha?

"What!? What do you mean, God!?" You exclaimed in a panicked voice. You? A God?

You were snapped out of your frenzy when you heared it's voice again "There is currently a popular and confirmed tale plus ballad that you are the creator of Teyvat. People began worshipping you after you had abruptly dissapered without any warning, so they prayed and worshipped, hoping to bring you back"

You were even more bewildered but also... Understanding? I guess? I mean you are the player who basically built everything in the game. But isn't also Cai Hauyo (Mihoyo) basically the creator of what had been created? You'll dive deeper into that later.

"So.. They're all after me now?" Your tone had a clear hint of worry. You didn't want to be on the run and just wanted a normal life! The system replied saying "Not quite yet. I belive only the knights of favonius must've known. But Im sure it won't be long till the whole mondstadt or even Teyvat will find out about your presence"

You grimaced at the thought of being hunted down by multiple people, especially if those beloved people that you used to grind hours on end for!

You shaked your head in disapproval "Yet I can't really stay here either can I, it seriously sucks" you stretched your legs out on the cold cement flooring, the exterior of the room you had been trapped in was definitely not suited to live in.

"Why are you eager to escape?" The system sought to find the answer, you gave it a long frown "First of all, I am not going to be trapped here for the rest of my life! I'll die of boredom before anybody could even reach me" The system responded with only small glitching noises, it seemed like it was trying to process the outcome of your actions.

You took that as a cue to continue your rant "Secondly, I'm not really trusting the Knight's of Favonius yet nor anybody in general here. When you said I'm a supposed 'God' that's already trouble going to bite me in the ass" You breathed heavily to catch your breath, letting that all out of your chest felt pretty good to be honest.

"I know they're up to something"

!?!?

Jean stared down at the stack of papers and files scattered around her desk. She took a deep breath and began to tidy things up around the office, a vivid memory flashed through her mind, a memory that wasn't that long ago.

Amber had gone out to continue her Outrider duties leaving Jean to take care of their business for the time being. Her lips trembled ever so slightly like a leaf being blown by the wind, so she quickly bit her lip with her eyes full of worry and dread.

A god was in a cell. A cell she placed them in. Or.. So she was assuming

Back then, Barbatos and the creator had a small fondness of each other. Tales and Ballads would often say they were friends, even with the gap between their ranks and powers, the creator treated everyone fairly no matter what rank. They adored their creations and thus, the creations adored them back.

If only they hadn't left so soon that Teyvat began to slowly crumble, leaving a nation to fall down, a nation to lock itself away from the rest of the world, a nation having their own Archon sacrifice themselves for their people.

If only...

Jean had her doubts. It wasn't the first time that a supposed 'Creator' stepped up only for them to experience demise and pain for their foolish actions.

The creator didn't have a confirmed face or appearance since they often changed what they look like, the creator did had 'Aura'.. That was only visible to vision holders. But of course, the humankind has evolved and people began to come up with a 'Fake Aura' that was the exact replica of the creator's.

Her feet paced back and forth through the room, deciding on what to do with the supposed 'God' that was locked away in a cell.... Should she eliminate them now? False identity was a crime. And when it comes to the creator, no one is spared nor given mercy.

"...Their too suspicious, Why only now did they appear? They must've been like the others." She whispered to herself, her thoughts running wild about them.

A 50/50.

They were either the actual creator

Or they are a fake.

And Jean's choice began to tilt towards the one most logical.

"Tomorrow. We will arrange a public execution"

!!!

"GAHHH!! AGHHH" You desperately tried to concentrate on your mind to activate your vision powers "What the heck how does this work!?" You gripped the amulet tighter with your left eye twitching violently. Your annoyance only filled more as the messages of the system flooded in your face.

"Try concentrating more calmly. What are you doing? Taking a shit?" The system taunted you while also sending some emojis.

"I'm trying okay!? How do you..." You trailed your words off, having a random flashback of when you still were at earth for some reason.

"Hey how are you always so calm?" You asked your friend filled with curiosity, they looked up at your eyes. Seeing your curiosity they hummed "Well I mostly think about my happy memories and things that I like. It's like day dreaming you know?" They answered your thoughts calmly.

"What?? You sound like one of those cliché characters in shows lol."

You blankly stared at the wall after the flashback had ended. Your head turned to the system "That was your doing ain't it?" You deadpanned seeing that the system had completely ignored you and instead sent whistling emojis.

You groaned finally giving in since you had no other ideas anyway. "Agh... Fine, worth a shot" You grumbled giving in to the cliché idea.

You relaxed down your body as your shoulders began to lower along with your guard, you cleared your head, thinking nothing but a blank space for some moments. When you felt ready you had began to imagine all the joyful things that you deeply favored for the past years. All of that gathered into one moment inside your brain.

The vision glowed brightly in your hands, it's viridescent color taking up the whole dimly lit room, even the system kept quiet with the messages so that you could concentrate better on finally unlocking some skills.

And just that, in a short while the vision began to lose its light.

Fluttering your eyes open you took a look around your body to see any changes, to your dissapointment there wasn't any difference. "Did it work?" You wanted to know if you were finally able to throw plants or something.

Suddenly, you slightly jumped seeing confetti pop out of nowhere. The systems screen had massive words placed for you to see.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON UNLOCKING YOUR VISION !!

Reward:

+50,000 Mora

+Cake For The Player

+Personal Companion"

'Personal Companion?'

You were curious to see what it was but for now, you had to focus on breaking out of this hell hole. "System! So like uh, what can I do for now?" You rubbed the back of your head still pretty much a newbie to all this powers stuff.

"Throw out your companion. Call out it's name, 'Taube' and break the damn wall to escape"

"Taube?..." You mumbled it's name unsure at first but your doubts had quickly vanished as your eyes landed on a... Dove?

The Dove (Taube) was pure as a snow, it's wings flapping in the air gently with the inner layer of its feathers being a stunning (Color). Other than that, it looked like a pretty beautiful dove soaring in the sky.

"Wait so, what can it do?" You tilted your head at it questionably. "Make Taube attack the wall so you can see" The system answered your calling, you silently nodded your head at the systems words.

If the Dove was basically part of your power, then it could basically read through your mind! then.... 'Taube, I choose you!!'

Like a smooth cut of a knife, Taube had sliced through the wall with their wing, leading to the fresh and flourishing outside.

You were lying if you didn't say you were impressed and amazed by how easily Taube destroyed the wall. A wide smile appeared on your face as you didn't waste a single moment and ran out to the outside and away from that wretched room.

The air was clean and felt good as you inhaled as much as you can, the sweet scent of dandelions being all over the land was just a touch of freedom. The wind blew over your clothes and hair, wrinkling and messing it all up slightly.

"Man..." You muttered while straightening and fixing yourself up to look a slight bit more presentable. You looked around seeing Taube flying over to your vision, confusion hitted you but shock struck you harder for some quick seconds.

Your eyes widened, watching how Taubes body began to get absorbed by the vision, you panicked alot thinking your powerful animal companion is going to dissperse and never appear again but you quickly remembered that Taube is originally made from your vision anyway.

So you could summon them anytime! :D

A sigh of relief escaped through your lips, your eyes lingered on the body of Taube one last time, in impulse you softly stroked it's head before it faded away from your line of view.

Brushing those thoughts aside, you took a look around the vast land of Mondstadt. You weren't used to seeing how clean and green it was compared to earth where everything is in the brink of collapsing.

BUT! that wasnt your problem right now.

You didn't think twice to bolt your ass out of there and find a new hiding place, A cave? A abandoned house? Anything is fine! cause your gut kept telling you something bad will happen if you stay too long in there!

Wow. Who knew that you would be escaping from there when just a few chapters ago you were fangirling about living in mondstat?

Anyways...

'FREEDOM!!'

A/n: Short but active hehe

This is what the Dove kinda looks like btw, you could leave it to your imagination v

[shalotttower]

The Art of Disappearing (part 1)

Title: The Art of Disappearing Fandom: Resident Evil Village Characters: Lady Dimitrescu x Reader (female) Summary: Lady Dimitrescu enjoys wine; you enjoy living. You pray to god those don't overlap. Word count: 1800+ Notes: mentions of death, implied torture and violence, NSFWish, WINE Part 2

Hiding in plain sight is a skill honed by necessity here.

Melt seamlessly into the decor of drapes and velvet curtains until you're indistinguishable from them. Become wallpaper with eyes that stare and mouths that don't open, and arms that only pick, and pass, and scrub, and fold.

You're not the girl who was locked in the cellar last week.

You're not the girl who dropped a plate yesterday.

You're not the girl whose blood got so deep into the dining room rug that it's better off being burned.

You want to say that you won't be that girl, but you can't promise anything anymore except that dinner is at 6 o'clock every evening unless stated otherwise by Lady Dimitrescu. Your schedule revolves around hers entirely, like planets rotating around their dying sun, even if it's not your shift. There's no such thing as a day off in the castle.

But there're such things as a quiet day, or a normal day, or a bad one.

Today is a bad one.

Lady Dimitrescu's favourite lipstick is missing.

It's a very rare, expensive shade, like the red shell of a ladybug, or the last breath of a maiden. Your ears pick up the word being murmured from one maid to another — 'if anyone sees the item, return it to the Lady's vanity immediately'.

You hope that someone finds it soon. Nobody here is dumb enough to steal, so it's probably forgotten somewhere. But you don't say it of course, because Her Ladyship doesn't forget anything and you still need your tongue intact.

---

Lady Dimitrescu likes wine; you enjoy living.

You pray that the two never overlap.

So far luck has been on your side — for six months now you've been working in the castle. You've cleaned stains from carpets and floors without asking what they are (because it was clear even without questions); polished silverware until you could see yourself reflected in them and arranged flowers countless times to learn which ones Lady favors over others.

You were a mouth that didn't speak and eyes that saw nothing. A piece of furniture with legs and arms.

As long as you do your job and keep a low profile, you're safe. Humans thrive in delusion, and so do you. It keeps you sane, what an oxymoron that is.

---

At three in the afternoon, you clean the bathrooms.

Bela is the neatest among the three, and Cassandra leaves everything scattered around for maids like you to collect and place where it's supposed to be. Daniela is... unique. You're not sure how she manages to get stains and fingerprints on such random surfaces. Sometimes you wonder if she does it on purpose.

Daniela loves fun surprises.

Like sneaking up on you when you're on your knees, scrubbing the tub. She pokes your shoulder. "Hiya."

Your heart drops into your stomach.

"Lady Daniela," you greet while trying not to let your hands shake under the apron.

She's smiling sweetly today, like she didn't just scare ten years out of you. You're not fooled and know better than to trust that expression. Nothing in this castle is innocent and saccharine and nice. Especially not the daughters.

"Can I help you with anything, my lady?"

Please say "no" and leave.

Daniela rocks on her heels then leans forward, inspecting your work.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

She's bored, you realize. Great. Bored means unpredictable behavior, and unpredictable behavior means trouble for everyone else who isn't Daniela herself. You wait for whatever she wants — entertainment? food? — patiently despite the churning in your gut.

"I'm bored," she announces.

"Yes, my lady."

"Let's play a game. Hide and seek, like little ones."

Six months have yet to make the instinctive urge to flee within you die out whenever one of them wants something from you directly. You'd think that this whole time might've increased your chances of survival, but humans thrive in delusion. In reality, everything is a gamble here. An embroidery of chance and circumstances that determines if you will live another day, that's all.

"I would be honored, my lady."

The bathrooms must be finished by five, and it's almost four. You're not going to make it on time.

"Who is going to hide first?" You ask after a moment.

Daniela claps. "Well you, of course, silly!"

Of course.

---

Hiding in plain sight is a skill honed by necessity here. Melting seamlessly into the decor of drapes and velvet curtains.

But you're not a vase or a coat rack. You're just a girl who's been in the castle for a while and has gotten good at being invisible. You can't hide your heart beat. Your scent and the warmth of your skin are impossible to erase.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Daniela's sing-song voice carries from the other end of the west wing, and then fades.

She didn't count to ten. You know because you've been counting along, just to have an idea of how much time there's left until she finds you. There're no harbored hopes about the opposite happening. Hide and seek is one of Daniela's favourite games, and she dedicates herself to it thoroughly, with great interest.

It's not about winning the game — that much you realized early on when she played against other maids, plucking one out and chasing her around the castle before dissolving into flies with a cackle.

It's about the entertainment good enough to satiate her.

You're not the most agile, not the fastest. Even after six months your knowledge of the castle's layout is patchy, but you try to think logically. What places will she check last? What will Daniela expect you to choose?

Closets are off limits. So is the library, unless you want Bela on your tail as well.

Your mind wanders.

There're so many rooms in this castle that you haven't seen once during all of your shifts. You're always cleaning hallways, sometimes the daughters' parlors, and nothing more.

Down the stairs, past the servant quarters, is a place where rumors are born. Of thick barrels stacked to the ceiling like dominoes and wine in various stages of production. It smells sour-sweet down there — like fruit rotting in August.

Wine that never runs out in Dimitrescu castle as long as there're maids.

That's what others say, at least. Nobody has come back to confirm.

Would she look in the cellar? Would anyone?

It's the last place you'd search if you were looking for someone insignificant and replaceable.

You take off your shoes so that your steps don't echo in the expanse of marble and stairs.

---

There're all kinds of things down here. Broken furniture that's been tossed aside for disposal, boxes and crates of unidentified items, old paintings of people you don't recognize.

And wine.

A lot of it in barrels and bottles, some of which are labeled, some aren't. You walk past them, following the corridors of dusty brick. The air smells like mold and fermentation, damp. It reminds you of the lakeside by your grandmother's cottage in summertime and you feel strangely nostalgic.

You miss home.

The thought is dangerous and you quickly push it away, back to where it belongs — in your memories. Home doesn't exist anymore.

Time passes. Minutes go by without the sounds of buzzing swarms or doors creaking open somewhere nearby. No voices either, except for your own breathing and heartbeat that fill up every corner of silence. You find a nook between the stacked barrels and settle there with your knees pulled to your chest.

The place is colder, uncomfortably so. Cool ground sends its chill through your stockings.

You've done everything you could. Found a good hiding spot, a perfect one, and it's out of your control from here on.

The art of disappearing is simple: be nothing and wait until time decides if you're worth staying like that or not.

---

Daniela finds you after your legs start to numb from sitting.

"Found you," she grins from ear to ear.

Her flies settle as she solidifies into flesh with a giggle, girlish and mischievous. It could be cute if not the bloody smudges around her mouth and chin. She crouches down in front of you, close enough for you to see the specks of gold in her eyes.

"Congratulations, Lady Daniela."

Your fingers dig into your skirts.

Daniela tilts her head; a fly crawls on her cheek before taking off. "I win! I get my prize now."

You didn't know you were playing for a prize. But nobody tells you anything in this castle until it's too late, like that you're not supposed to open windows in winter, or that you can't touch Daniela's books because she has them organized alphabetically.

"What would you like, my lady?"

Another fly lands on your lips, a thick creature with translucent wings and little fuzzy legs. They tickle but you resist the urge to make a face lest she takes it as an insult. At your question her expression turns impish, one of those you never fail to associate with trouble.

She reaches into your apron's pocket... and pulls out a lipstick.

You stare at it — a simple elegant tube with a golden cap.

"Look what I found!" Daniela waves it in front of your face like it's a toy.

Your blood freezes over. How did it end up there? You've been working for hours today yet you don't recall ever picking it up off anywhere. Where-

"My lady, I didn't take it!" you blurt out in horror, when it dawns on you. "I swear, I wouldn't! I would never-"

Daniela blinks owlishly and then breaks into laughter, clutching her stomach. Her smile is so wide that you can see her gums stained with coagulated blood which makes your stomach turn. The flies swarm and dissipate around you both, disturbed by her unrestrained mirth.

"Silly," she interrupts your stammering. "I know! You should've seen your face!"

Oh thank god.

You're so relieved that for a second all air leaves your lungs.

"...you tricked me?" you ask quietly after a moment, a bit more composed now when the accusation of theft doesn't hang over your head.

"Mhm," Daniela nods and wipes tears from her eyes, still giggling.

You're not sure if it was funny to anyone except her.

Her smile lessens gradually and eventually vanishes from her lips altogether when the initial amusement wears off. Something coy appears in her demeanor, sheepish even, as she fiddles with the lipstick in silence.

"Can you put it back in mother's vanity?" she grabs your hand suddenly and places it into your palm.

That's when you realize that you never even once questioned where she got it from. But Daniela gives you a pout with a warning look, like she's able to tell exactly what you're thinking. All questions die instantly on your tongue; you nod.

"Yes, my lady. Of course."

"Good," she pats your knee. "Don't forget! Or I'll eat you."

Flies descend onto your skirt, buzzing around Daniela's fingers until she disappears into dozens of black insects.

You know that she meant every word.

[compressedrage]

Okay so you guys remember this post?

Well....

Chosen couldn’t believe his eyes. 

The city glittered with color; banners hung from poles, streamers stretched above the heads of the bustling crowd, and the crowd itself shimmered with the brightest of shades. 

Sounds of all kinds reached his ears: all the people laughing and talking over one another, the wind brushing against the decorations, the faint strains of music drifting about

Chosen halted just at the edge of it all to close his eyes and drink it in.

The moment was broken by harsh sizzling and a startled “What?!”

Chosen bit back a chuckle and cracked open one eye. Dark stood beside him, the grass scorched beneath his feet. He stared up at the city, mouth wide open and eyes the size of icons. He held up his arms to encompass everything and only managed another sound of bafflement.

Chosen laughed. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it–“

“It’s amazing!” Dark cried. He squinted at a poster on a nearby wall. “What’s a ‘festival’?”

It hadn’t been that long since they’d escaped the computer. By Chosen’s count, maybe a couple days. Those had been spent flying around the surrounding land, messing around, and discovering just how much Dark knew.

He knew what a PC was, and he had a vague understanding of the concept of an “animator”. But the nature they saw around them mystified him.

Chosen shook himself out of his reverie. “It’s like a party, I think.” He said. “A big one. Anyone in the city can go.”

Dark glanced at him, his eyes alight. Before Chosen could do or say anything Dark grabbed his hand and dragged him into the crowd.

_._._

People chattered, salesmen yelled across the street for potential customers to view their wares, lanterns hanging above the street swayed on their strings, making some sticks look up in mild concern as though they were going to fall at any moment.

It was loud. It was overwhelming.

Chosen loved it.

He let Dark pull him into a run. They weaved in and out of the crowd, dodging the stands of various items and hopping over benches.

Chosen craned his neck, wanting to see everything. He released Dark’s hand for a split second, looking at a family of sticks playing a game at a booth, when he ran smack into something.

He rebounded and fell to the ground, as did the stick he’d run into.

He sat up. “Hey!” he snapped. “Watch where you’re–“

It was a kid. He’d ran into a kid.

They sat up from their sprawled position on the ground, their face screwed up in a pout. They stuck out their tongue.

Chosen quickly got to his feet. “Sorry,” he stammered. “That was probably my fault.” He held out a hand.

The kid raised their eyes to Chosen’s face and their jaw dropped. They simply stared at Chosen with wide eyes.

“Uh–“

The kid scrambled to their feet and ran– straight into the arms of a nearby adult, who gathered them into their arms and shot Chosen a deadly glare.

Chosen swallowed and offered them his best “whoops, sorry” facial expression. He must have not done it correctly, because the stick scoffed and disappeared into the crowd with the kid.

Weird.

Now that Chosen wasn’t preoccupied with accidentally running over children, he came to the realization that he was alone.

He’d let go of Dark’s hand, and he’d must have kept running through the festival without him.

Chosen ignored the little pang of annoyance that came with that thought and focused on scanning the sticks around him for a bright red stick with a hollow head.

Strangely enough, while there were quite a few sticks with crimson coloring, there weren’t any with hollow heads. Not a single one.

Chosen moved through the crowd, eyes peeled. There were sticks of every shade, size, and shape– but none who resembled him or Dark. A few of them glanced at him and then double-taked. Did he really stand out that much?

Chosen stepped out on a curb, emerging from the crowd into what looked like a park. Groups of sticks stood around talking, playing games, or purchasing things from booths and pop-up carts scattered on the grass.

Chosen halted. He inhaled slowly. Those carts were full of food.

It smelled amazing; better than anything he’d ever smelled.

Chosen’s mouth watered. His stomach made itself known with a familiar pang, and he had an instinctive thought to keep an eye out for some icons or an essay the next time Noogai let him out– 

No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t on the PC anymore.

…what did normal sticks eat, anyway?

Chosen slowly approached one of the carts. There was a short line, and he hovered awkwardly behind two adolescents as they ordered. The stick manning the cart handed them a cylindrical wrapped item, and they gave him a handful of crumpled bills.

Wait, bills?

Chosen winced as he noticed the sign on the side of the cart, outlining the prices of what was apparently burritos. It was likely a very fair price; Chosen just didn’t have any money.

His stomach growled, and he stepped back from the cart sheepishly. Maybe there was some free samples somewhere–

His eyes landed on a half-unwrapped burrito lying innocently on a nearby picnic table. No one was around. Nobody was watching him.

Chosen side-stepped next to the table and quickly glanced around one more time.

He snatched up the burrito, tucked it in his arms, and began walking backwards towards the center of the park.

He bumped into someone, causing them to yelp. He spun around, already apologizing, and nearly ran into someone else.

The crowd had grown; Chosen was surrounded on all sides. Bodies pressed in on him. His breathing quickened. He screwed his eyes shut, overwhelmed–

“Chosen!”

Chosen startled and swung an arm at his attacker, but it was caught midair– by Dark.

“Hey dude!” he shouted over the noise of the crowd. “Lost you for a sec. You good?”

Chosen blinked, then nodded.

Dark spotted the burrito clutched in his hand. “Ha!” He held out his own findings: a small portable dish filled to the brim with rice and meat. “Did you steal that too–“

Dark slapped a hand over his own mouth, his eyes widening. A grin spread across his face. “Whoops, probably shouldn’t have said that–”

Chosen rolled his eyes.

Dark gestured for Chosen to follow him. They slipped through the crowd, across the park, to a curb a-ways-away. Dark sat on the pavement behind an empty cart, and Chosen plopped down beside him.

“What’d you get,” Dark asked, poking his own pile of rice with a finger.

“Burrito. What’s that?”

Dark shrugged. “Dunno, can’t pronounce it. Started with an O, though. Ooh, what’s this green stuff–“

Chosen looked back to his burrito. It had clearly been unwrapped before, and then rewrapped in a failed attempt to keep it safe. He took a corner of the wrapping and pulled it away.

The smell smacked him in the face. Chosen’s mouth began watering again, but he opened it slowly. It had been a while since he’d eaten anything. Was it different with actual food? Did he have to chew?

He took a bite.

Flavor exploded in his mouth, and he flinched backwards in surprise. Cautiously, he chewed. Textures spread across his tongue and crunched under his teeth. It was… delicious.

Nothing had ever been delicious before. The things he’d eaten on the computer had been dry, sometimes crunchy in a stale sort of way. Usually he wouldn’t even chew, simply gulping letters and icons down as fast as possible before he would be yanked back by the chain.

But this was different. This wasn’t just eating for the sake of sustenance; this was an experience to be enjoyed.

Chosen swallowed with difficulty. All this time… other sticks had been living normal lives. Not trapped by an Animator, or forced to be a pop-up blocker. They’d just been… living.

Noogai would have kept all of this from him. Locked him up forever.

He felt a spark of anger, but it was quickly drowned out by– something. An emotion Chosen couldn’t identify. A lump of good-bad stuck in his throat. He unhinged his mouth a little and took a bigger bite.

As if from far away, he heard Dark talking to him and laughing but he couldn’t focus on it. A lump rose in his throat and he couldn’t swallow past it. The sun was in his eyes. He could see the sun. 

He really was free.

Chosen crumbled into a ball and began to sob.

He felt Dark jump, but he just hugged his knees to his chest and buried his head in his arms. His chest heaved, and he gasped as warm tears bubbled up and rolled down his face.

He could feel it all– the wetness dripping down his face, the tightness in his throat, the strange pain-but-not-pain settled in his chest. He wasn’t dying, was he? It would suck to finally be free and then die on day four-and-a-half.

“Chosen?” came the quiet voice.

Chosen shifted his head to the side to look at Dark. Even through his teary, blurry vision, he could see how worried Dark looked.

How could he even begin to explain this? Dark hadn’t had to live the way he had. Chosen would never wish that on anyone, much less his new companion, but it meant Dark would never truly understand.

He opened his mouth–

His voice didn’t work.  

Well. That solved that problem.

He swallowed with difficulty and tried to smile reassuringly. All he could manage was quirking his lips up to one side.

Dark still looked a bit panicked. “Are– are you–“ he stammered, then stopped. He suddenly thrust the remains of his rice dish in Chosen’s face. “H-hold this.”  

Chosen grabbed it, and Dark stood to run off somewhere.

Chosen sniffed harshly, and looked down at the dish. It smelled nice. There was what looked like a triangle made of rice. He carefully scooped it into his hand and took a bite. It tasted good. More tears overflowed, and he chewed slowly, feeling a breeze brush against his face. He shut his eyes for a moment.

Something tapped his shoulder. He turned to see Dark, holding out a small stack of napkins. Chosen blinked at him, a little confused.

Dark gestured. “For your face.”

Chosen reached up and registered how wet his face was. He snorted softly in amusement. He took the napkins and began wiping his face.

Dark cleared his throat. “…you okay now?” he asked.

Chosen wanted to say he was fine. That he was more fine than he had ever been. That if he took another bite of anything else delicious he might melt into a puddle. But his voice was sealed up and he could only nod.

Dark let out a breath. “Okay, ‘cause that was– I don’t–“

Chosen’s lips twitched to the side.

There was a beat, then Dark said slowly “do you wanna leave?”

Chosen rubbed at his eyes as he took a moment to think. He shrugged.

Dark nodded a little. “They’re um, they’re lighting lanterns over there.” He held out his hand. “Come on, let’s at least go see what they’re doing.”

Chosen scrubbed at his face one last time before grasping Dark’s hand. He let himself get pulled upright, and then gently dragged towards the milling crowd to see what was going on.

Dark was right; the lanterns shone softly against the pink-blue sky, and the crowd had gathered in a circular arrangement.

Dark craned his neck, but after he seemingly failed to see what the commotion was, he hopped up on the side of a nearby cart. He gasped. “They’re making a dance circle!” As he spoke, music began to play, and the crowd livened.

Dark clambered down– whacking someone in the face in the process and earning himself a sharp “Hey!”– and grabbed Chosen’s hand. “Come on, Cho! Let’s go dance!”

Chosen blinked at the nickname and felt his throat release. “But I don’t know how to dance.”

“Neither do I! Come on, it’ll be fun!” Dark’s eyes were shining, and the music had picked up and Chosen’s head was beginning to spin a bit but he still swallowed hard and said “Alright.”

Dark whooped. He turned and began pushing his way to the edge of the circle. Chosen followed, ignoring the pointed glares they were getting.

They reached the edge, where they had opened a clearing on the grass. Dark paused, his gaze fixed on the dancing sticks in the middle. A new pair emerged from the crowd and began dancing. They were applauded for.

“Hang on, I’m getting a feel for how they do it,” Dark whispered to Chosen. He began bobbing his head to the beat and Chosen found himself swaying along.

The couple spun past them and Dark crouched down to watch their feet. Around them, other couples had broken out of the circle and into dance.

Dark clapped his hands. “Okay I’ve got it. Here, take my hand; and I’ll take yours– and off we go!”

Chosen yelped as Dark pulled him in the clearing and they tried to dance.

Tried being the relevant word.

“We have to step together,” Dark raised his voice above the music. “Around and around, see–“

Chosen tripped. “Woah hey– ouch that was my foot–“

“I’m not trying to– ack!”

They spun and nearly smacked into another couple.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, sorry, we don’t know what we’re doing–“ Dark quickly grabbed Chosen’s waist and steered them away. They whirled around in a teetering tripping mess, whacking into people and just missing others.

Chosen’s head was still heavy, and everything was still a bit too much, but it was rather nice.

The lanterns were casting soft shadows and the sky was orange.

The music was loud and happy, and Dark was laughing.

Somehow, Chosen found himself laughing along.

_._._

OKAY WE'RE DONE

HOORAY

THANK YOU TO @bittersweetbeet AND @karimationkat FOR ALL THE WONDERFUL IDEAS

and here's the other tags for the people who wanted one (I think): @storgicdealer @astronnonyy

This fic is currently on Ao3 also, so it's my first published AvA fic! We're hitting milestones tonight, people

it is nearing my bedtime, so I will be heading off to bed soon, but I just wanted to post this before I do <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

7 Minutes in Slender Mansion (Opener)

that's right chat! We are going through with the idea! This is only an opener to what's to come, after the fic will be a poll for you to vote in! no characters, only items for you to draw! The winner of course gets a fic for the actual game! depending on how this and the first part goes i may make fics for the other choices! Characters: slenderman, splendorman, masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, nina the killer, laughing jack, eyeless jack, puppeteer, bloody painter notes: reader is gn, speed writing this so the characters mentioned above may not be mentioned in this part BUT will be options in the poll!, this will be shared on AO3 after the first follow up fic is put up, takes place in the mansion we are getting silly in here, reader is implied to be a killer and/or non human due to their presence in the mansion itself cws: none word count: 887

The entire night had been chaotic- with the Halloween season drawing closer some of the more festive inhabitants of the mansion have taken it upon themselves to get into the holiday spirit. From decorating with their own touch of gore to roping in some of the more unwilling into their games and activities. 

You yourself were dragged into it by a hyped up Nina, who would not take no for an answer- even if you were already making your way downstairs in order to get in on the fun. 

Masky and Hoodie stood together quietly in a corner away from the chaos as Toby fought with Jeff over what game should be played that night. You tune out their bickering as you take account of who else had decided to join in that night. Laughing Jack was sprawled across the couch, accompanying Splendor as they both filed through candy. 

Actually, Splendor was the one doing most of the ordering- separating fruit candies from chocolates, as well as keeping ones with nuts far away from the other options. Laughing Jack was merely supplying the candy, drawing them out of a seemingly never ending stash in his pockets. 

You’d have to ask him about that one day… 

“As soon as those two,” Nina jerks her head towards Toby and Jeff, “figure out what game we’re going to play then we’ll get started… in the meantime get comfortable-” You watched Nina’s eyes light up as she spotted Eyeless Jack stepping into the room with a bowl. You couldn’t tell exactly what was in it from where you were standing, but at least it didn’t seem to be organs. 

Maybe.

Nina leaves your side to take the bowl from him, her voice melting into the noise of the space around you. 

You scan around the room again to try to find a free space, and as you take an absentminded step forward you bump into someone. In the brief moment you took to look around, Bloody Painter had found himself in front of you.

He hardly makes a sound when you make contact, and he only gives you a glance over his shoulder. He doesn’t say much before continuing his path to one of the few free chairs in the room, right next to where Pup was- leaning against the wall, pretending to check his nails. You could feel his golden eyes boring into you from across the room.

You shake the feeling, being only partly successful… 

You make a dull note in your head that Slenderman was in the room, alone and silent as he always was.

You take a step to the couch and Splendorman makes room for you, offering you a warm smile.

“Reader! I’m so glad you’ve decided to join us!” He nearly chirped as he continued sorting out the candies. Nina briefly returned to set the bowl she had taken from Eyeless Jack onto the table. 

It was only popcorn, thankfully. 

“So what’s the plan for tonight? Are we just going to play games and then that’s it?” You ask, leaning forward to snag a handful of candy. 

Your eyes dart around once more.

“Where’s Jane?” 

“Babysitting!” Laughing Jack chuckled as he dumped another large fistful of candy out onto the table, letting them slide and scatter across the surface. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Splendor’s smile tighten before relaxing in an instant. 

“She wasn’t interested in joining tonight… it’s a shame, she keeps to herself… but at least she’s keeping the little ones occupied,” Splendor said as he reached forward to get right back to his work.

“Ben would throw a hissy fit if he heard you calling him “little one”, you know that right?” You tease. Splendor only shook his head gently, but didn’t say anything else.

You heard footsteps behind you, prompting you to turn around in your seat to find everyone else beginning to gather around- Jeff snagged Splendor’s hat right off of his head and flipped it upside down and dumped something into it. 

“Okay-” He barked out and passed the hat around. “Put something in the hat, we’re playing seven minutes in heaven!” Jeff called out. Several voices broke out, but he shushed them all.

“Not my choice, blame Toby- lover boy here is hoping to get some with his crush- YOU FUCKER-” Jeff hissed as he spun to Toby, who merely looked away. You had heard the impact, he must have kicked Jeff. 

Jeff drew a sharp hissing breath through his teeth, and before long he shoved the hat into your hands. “Here, put something in… or don’t if you want to go first,” He flashed a toothy grin at you. The slits in the sides of his face made it look far more menacing than he probably intended… maybe. “You don’t have to play if you don’t wanna, there’s more planned for tonight,” Jeff added after you didn’t say anything for a moment. 

“If I don’t start it, who will?” You ask.

“Not it!” Laughing Jack immediately called out. In an instant everyone started calling out a variation of the phrase, leaving you dumbstruck and still holding the hat. 

Your mouth twists into a pout, but you don’t make a move to back out of the game.

You reach your hand and pull out…

[spoopyblues214]

IKEA

A ficlet about a dream I had where I went to ikea with the disaster twins. Second person, you decide if it's platonic or romantic I don't know lmao

Also to the ask I got, requests are open! Yours will be next and to anyone else who's interested just send an ask

Word count: 610

°•.•°

You walked through the entrance with the two turtles, only for Leo to take your hand and pull you along. Apparently, you hadn't been walking fast enough for the slider. In turn you grabbed onto Donnie's arm, making him fumble his phone before holding it with just his free hand and giving you the other one to hold. When Leo slowed, he swung your hands back and forth, which you gladly attributed to. Donnie rubbed circles and lines onto the back of your hand as the two of you walked, but he didn't look up from his phone.

Every now and then Leo would break away and come back to show a silly trinket or make a pun on the swedish name for an item, which had you smiling and rolling your eyes. Donnie didn't gain any interest until the displays turned into example rooms, which is where he began to split off and mumble to himself about the decor. You'd follow, stand next to him and rock on your heels unless you felt like picking up a smaller thing to inspect in the fake bedrooms. Once you got to the display kitchens, Donnie got this strange look in his eye, and you couldn't decipher it until he spoke.

"Shelldon's been struggling processing things lately, though I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about that."

I had to try very hard to keep from smiling, before replying, "I'm not the one keeping him from recharging his energy at night, working on hundreds of unfinished projects."

He failed at hiding his smirk about the fact that you were in on the joke, but still continued, "oh, I'M the one keeping him from recharging? Maybe if you didn't get him sucked in to all those video games-"

"You're upset with me for rewarding good behavior? Don, when I'm not around he's miserable," the argument had been started, and the fake anger providing entertainment from passersby was rewarding.

It was especially fun for the two of you to walk the tightrope that the little drone could be an actual kid. Leonardo had come by with wooden birds on metal wire legs only to almost drop them at the shouting match the two of you had gotten into. Though, after his jaw un-dropped, he was losing his shit, trying not to laugh and fighting an uphill battle whenever someone passed by and made faces at the two of you arguing. He made damn sure to take pictures to laugh at later. The two of you came to the conclusion that Donnie would stop keeping Shelldon operating even if he was still working on something after twelve am. You would have to stop pampering him for every little thing, even if you were the only one who did so for the little drone.

You took both your turtles hands and led them to the cafeteria, where Donnie had just the meatballs, you had yours with gravy, and Leo had his with the lingonberry sauce. When Leo was done he kept stealing your mashed potatoes, so Donnie gave you his after you ran out. After lunch you all made for the exit, Leo still appearing with random items that caught his interest, though he stopped with the puns. You were easily distracted as Donnie went and paid for something.

Once out the door, the slider teleported all of you back to the layer, where you were scooped up by Raph for a movie night. Later that night you found a stuffed turtle on you bed that looked a little derpy, the tag labeled "BLÅVINGAD." How the twins had managed to sneak it past you was a mystery.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Day.24 ~ Sweets for the baby ~ Hallowtober

Franco Barbi x mommy!reader

warning: fluff, outlast level of topics, mention of drinking alcohol, kissing

Summary: Who doesn't like Halloween? It was a day when you could dress up and not be who you were, you were someone else and no one cared. Even in the Trials, October seemed to have arrived. For Franco, there was no better new victim, costumes and candy that he could eat with his mommy, the perfect day for the murderer.

info: I'm sure Franco likes Halloween candy and blood just go together… anyway, have fun reading ;)

masterlist

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

Halloween was not celebrated, not in the asylum and not here in the bucket full of half-good experiments. Sure, you could see one or two doctors and a nurse with a small pumpkin pin, but otherwise they had no idea what was going on inside the building complex.

Whereby the interior did not change despite the seasons, the inmates seemed to feel this somehow anyway: in summer they sweated, in spring they looked for Easter eggs, and in winter they froze, and in fall, well, in fall they seemed to bleed even more.

This also applied to Franco, who woke up full of energy every first October morning, and could hardly wait for his mother to finally arrive to bring him new toys.

But also something sweet, which he had asked for very nicely after he had brought her back a few items of equipment. Just as today, the lights above him flickered since he had started his game, his suit pocket was full of teeth and he felt the blood on his hands.

His thoughts raced only to his ,,Mommy will be so proud of me if I also kill you, you fucking pig!” shouted the gunman and fired his Lupara, whose ammunition drilled several beautiful holes in the body of the screaming man, who sank lifeless to the ground.

Franco giggled, turned the body around and broke out the teeth one by one in the mouth before he joyfully retreated to prepare everything for his mother.

The heavy steps of the man-baby echoed around, mingling with the purple high heels of the woman who was not disturbed by the massacre.

She had seen it all too often. ,,He will be very happy about the lolis,” she murmured, looking into the small bag of sweets she was holding. In it were a few sweets that she brought for him, or rather, that she was allowed to bring without endangering the safety of everyone.

She had added a few of the baby's favorite foods to the milkweed she was preparing in the kitchen. He had earned the reward more than ever, especially after he had listened so well to her words last time and had given her the lupara so that she could shoot it herself.

He is becoming such a sweet boy. When she knocked on the door, she heard a cheerful ,,Come in, my heart” and entered the room where he slept and they had spent many hours together. She saw with satisfaction that he had “decorated” it with teeth, human parts and hair tufts scattered around the cradle that had her color.

,,Oh, has my sweet little one done some decorating while I was away?” she asked in a touching tone, looking at Franco, who nodded and pointed to various objects with his lupara.

His blue eyes sparkled with joy, ,,Yes! I shot down one after another of those whores and idiots and got such beautiful decorations,” he announced, showing her a few individual pieces before they both retired to the cradle.

She looked gratefully at the lupara and was once more glad that her darling had such an eye for art before he lay down in her lap and was given one of the lolis that consisted of his wolf's milk.

,,So delicious,” she heard from him and sipped on a glass of the drink herself, stroked his head and could almost taste the smell of autumn, if you ignored the blood and insides.

The kiss they shared seemed to flow between them like fresh blood, sweet and warm, filling them both. ,,A wonderful day,” she said, feeling the younger man's fingers slowly wandering over her clothes.

,,A more wonderful bloody creepy day, my dear,” he purred to her, and the day full of tricks and sweets became even more unpredictable, especially when you were stuck in such a hell together as they were.

But no matter what would happen, as soon as she heard the click of the gun, Franco's laughter and his touch on her body, she knew that she would spend every moment together with sweet more than just with sweet.

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

[tavyliasin]

Disability Pride Essays - Enver Gortash, Invisible Disability, and Visible Mobility Aids

Our focus this month has mostly been on our heroes (or perhaps, in some cases and paths, antiheroes, but companions nonetheless), but what about the villains? Gortash might not be the most sympathetic character, given all the morals he doesn’t have, but he’s important, popular, and altogether quite fascinating. This bonus round will take a look at a few of the more subtle details in his character, from the mobility aid to some things people have noticed in how he moves and interacts. There is a lot to be said about his traumatic backstory and how this impacted his life and decisions to where his moral compass does not point where most would prefer, but it would be a disservice to pretend that all disabled people - and indeed all disabled representation - are beyond criticism and are somehow icons of perfection. We are, I’m afraid to say, just as flawed as anyone else~ Which of course does not mean that we’re all out there making plans to dominate the world with a captured Elder Brain. That’s a little much…

What is Gortash’s Disability?

Gortash is far from the youngest of the adult characters, but he is also not of a typical age that one would expect to see mobility difficulties. And that is exactly what we have on the surface - though it is only seen in a couple of scenes, he has a rather ornate cane which is used for walking at times. There’s also an element of mental health with Gortash, and whilst we could do a deep dive into the causes I don’t feel that’s entirely necessary - the effect is in a few subtle details that some players might have missed.

How Do We See The Disability In The Game?

A lot of what we see is in Gortash’s outfit and inventory, though some have also pointed out that the way he walks and uses stairs looks very similar to how someone with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome might move (this condition is characterised by a weakening of connective tissues, leading to a higher chance of dislocation in joints and potentially differences in range of motion as tendons and ligaments are looser). This was fascinating to hear and I feel like I should absolutely go back and look at the scenes to see if I can spot those subtle shifts in motion and posture, though it is important to point out that quite simply you cannot always tell if someone is disabled or in pain just by observing them. There is the cane mentioned before, that is only in a couple of scenes but has made such an impact that it quite often makes an appearance in fan-created works, too. Another key item is his coat, which many refer to affectionately as “The Anxiety Jacket” - this might on the surface seem like a practical item to protect him from the influence of magical effects that cause conditions such as Fear, but many like to see it as a garment that also reduced anxiety and other similar symptoms. We can also see the gauntlets he wears as being a parallel to forearm and hand braces - though they’re not particularly accurate to actual support equipment, there are plenty of people who will wear specifically adapted braces in those areas. They might even have a couple of fingers uncovered as Gortash does, in order to better manipulate objects and prevent accidental scratches/injury from natural reactions like rubbing one’s eye when it’s sore/tired.

How Does This Reflect Real Life?

The cane is a very direct parallel, even in how it is not present in every scene with him. We only see it a couple of times, but it’s there enough for many of us to take note and to perhaps feel a little validation and representation from that. A lot of people who use an aid like a cane may not need it every single day, and use it only as and when required to maintain their strength but without struggling needlessly on bad days or risking making things worse. So whilst an argument could be made that “the cane he uses is only decorative” that doesn’t quite add up, as surely he would have it with him when holding the huge event to impress all the patriars - more on that later though. With the gloves, braces and even compression gloves are common accessibility aids that can support and protect joints and reduce pain. Granted, ornate golden metal is not usually the first choice, but like the cane we can see this as Enver making his mobility aids match his outfit/style. Plenty of us do seek out more stylish mobility aids, or otherwise decorate them with all sorts of things from stickers and paint to badges and keychains. It would be very interesting to see braces or supports styled like Gortash’s bracers and gauntlets. His coat could also be a parallel to how some people find a lot of comfort and anxiety relief from weighted blankets or even weighted garments that apply a level of pressure to the body in just the right way to feel soothing. This is particularly known for anxiety and neurodivergent people, though plenty of others have also found this to be helpful and calming.

Invisible Conditions and The Importance of Appearances

So in the community you might see people talk about Visible Disability and Invisible Illness (illness and disability are interchangeable here). What this refers to is whether a condition is something that people can instantly recognise, and usually won’t question. This might be a mobility aid like a wheelchair or crutches, or a white cane for visual impairments/blindness, or a service dog, or visible braces for joints. There are some borderline ones like walking canes which are a visible signal of disability but might not always be respected as such, particularly if the user looks younger and not the expected elderly person using a cane to walk. But many people who still need accessibility services and options - like disabled parking spaces or to use the lift instead of stairs - may not have any of these visible differences. It may be a heart and lung issue, or chronic pain that doesn’t require a mobility aid, a fluctuating severity condition, mental health and developmental/learning difficulties - numerous conditions can affect people in ways that are not immediately recognisable, so we call them invisible.  When you look at Gortash only having his cane for a couple of scenes and not in others, and how the gauntlets specifically serve another purpose of holding the netherstone, you can argue that his conditions are mostly invisible ones. Or that he is attempting to keep them that way, at least. He holds a position of high regard and clearly to some degree cares about appearances given how ornate his clothing is and how he presents himself as a powerful and charismatic leader of his people.

Were he to walk out in front of the crowds using a cane, it would more than likely turn a few heads, or even appear to be a weakness to those who might use it against him for their own gain. To someone with as large a target on your back as he has, even with all of the power of being Bane’s chosen, it’s unwise to give anyone an opening.  

Mobility Aids and The Anxiety Jacket

There are a lot of different mobility aids that people use in their daily lives, and some are even ones that are not needed every day. It isn’t unreasonable to suggest that actually Gortash’s use of the cane is like a part time mobility aid user - he doesn’t need it every day, but he does need it on a bad day when a symptom is flaring up or he has to do more than he usually would. The jacket might also, as well as acting in a similar way to a weighted blanket, be akin to how some people have favoured clothing items that give them comfort. Something like a jumper or jacket, a hoodie that is comfortable and feels safe to wear. Keeping things stylised, as mentioned earlier, is just another way that people incorporate their mobility and accessibility aids into their personal tastes. It’s similar to how people prefer to choose glasses that they feel look nice - it’s not just about the function of the item, technically any style of glasses will serve the purpose of correcting someone’s vision easily. They’re there all the time, so having them coordinate with your sense of style and taste is logical, and can make you feel more confident and positive about wearing them. It’s the same as anything really - you choose a coat not just for how it keeps the cold and/or rain out, but also for how it looks. Mobility aids aren’t always so interchangeable - it’s tough to afford or even store a whole range of wheelchairs or crutches - so choosing the right one and making it fit is important at the start. Enver’s cane is ornate, and in keeping with the themes of other things he wears all the time. As a game character, naturally he just has the one recognisable outfit, but it’s plausible to say that were he to have a more varied wardrobe it’s unlikely there would be anything that clashes with gold and black as a colour scheme. 

Function and fashion, essentially, don’t need to be entirely separate, even when we’re talking about disabilities. 

City Design and Accessible Buildings

Now, I might be remembering entirely incorrectly on this point, but from my memory and the screenshots I was looking at, it seems like Wyrm’s Rock Keep might actually have full step free access. There is a lift (elevator) that goes up to the upper floors for the coronation and to upper rooms, and I don’t recall seeing steps at either drawbridge entrance or in the doorways to the publicly accessible rooms either. It’s an odd point to bring up, and hardly seems relevant to the rest of the game, but I do want to invite you for a moment to think about the game map and your own local area. In the game, there are a huge amount of places only accessed by stairs, streets that are cobbled and bumpy, a complete lack of accessible routes. Of course it is a fantasy game where there is magical healing, but if you want to go into deep lore then there can still be disabilities in fantasy settings, and magical healing is very expensive. Adventurers end up with plenty of coin, but this is from selling things they find or steal, from rewards for completing tasks that carry a strong risk of death to each, from killing foes and raiding their pockets for loose change (I’m not judging you, it’s a game and they don’t exactly have a Will tucked into their back pocket telling you who to give their coin to). The average citizen, however? The amount needed to pay for high level healing spells or potions is more money than they would make in over 50 years, and that’s if they didn’t have daily living expenses to account for. So to pull that back into the real world, look at the world around you. Each business you enter, notice for a moment - does it have a stepped entrance? Anything more than an inch could prevent a disabled person from entering. Is the speech or conference you are watching being interpreted by someone using sign language? Are there braille marks on important buttons like door openings or bus stop bells? Have textured paths that white cane users need as guides for routes been blocked by anything? Is there enough space for a mobility aid user to safely navigate between aisles and displays in a shop? Sometimes it can seem like there is no need to add accessibility, because you’re not seeing disabled people around who need them. But to that I like to remind people of two key points - first, if a place isn’t accessible, we can’t even try to be there in the first place (or we don’t want to give our business to someone who has not thought of basic access needs), and secondly we are still a minority, so the percentage of us in the population whilst still significant is far lower than abled people.

What We Can Learn From Gortash’s Story

It feels strange to say “hey let’s learn about this unrepentant villain and how he can represent us” but the thing is we do need diverse representation. Just as we shouldn’t have villains be the only characters to portray disability (directly or indirectly), it would also be unfair to have disabled characters only permitted to be pure and virtuous. Disabled people, and disabled characters who represent them, are people. Whole entire people with wants and dreams, needs and desires, faults and flaws and mistakes and everything that makes us all human. We cannot - and should not - boil them down to only being their disability. Gortash can be representative of how people’s conditions may vary, how some days they may need a cane but others they might not. He might be an example of someone who hides their condition, or whose needs vary from day to day. It’s good to remember that in real life someone who is disabled might be able to do something one day, but not the next. It doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be entitled to help that they need to do that thing on the days they can’t, nor should you be assuming they always need the support if it isn’t being requested or used. He can also show us how mobility aids and supports do not need to only be functional. If someone can afford to have a gold inlaid ornately carved cane, why shouldn’t they? If someone wants to have braces or joint supports that are decorated and match their outfits, that should always be an option available to them. I would also like to invite you to take the time to look at the world around you and thing about how things may be accessible or inaccessible to someone with different needs to your own. As a wheelchair user myself, when I started using wheels to get around I was taken aback by just how needlessly difficult it can be. Businesses with steps, curbs not properly dropped to allow for road crossings, vehicles parked too far across pavements and footpaths, even accessible toilet facilities being used to store extra bins or other supplies because there’s more space in there - forgetting, of course, that wheelchair users need that extra floor space to be able to enter, turn, and navigate when inside. If you do notice that a business doesn’t have a step-free entrance, that there’s no lift or level crossing to change platforms at a train station, that a car park has no disabled spaces, please consider speaking up or notifying whoever is responsible for the area.

I’ll round this one off to remind us all that it’s ok to find parts of ourselves in a villain’s story, and even to feel a connection to a fictional villain. Love them, too, if you like - I know I often do~ You can find a whole breakdown of why I feel we like fictional villains - and how this does not make us bad people - right here.

[rom-e-o]

In your Scroogeverse, after the Wolves gain full custody of Bess' siblings and they move back to London back into Wolf's flat (still a few years off from them looking to buy that country cottage they end up in), Bess decides the flat is in much need of a makeover. So, what does she do? Naturally, THRIFTING! (Because this girl loves a bargain in any universe.) And she decides to bring her new sister-in-law along to bond. Plus, she feels a little braver going into the ritzier stores with someone like Connie by her side, still struggling to feel like she belongs in this new strata of society and all that.

I'm absolutely in love with how their passion for thrifting transcends universes (that feels so eternally fitting for these girls, haha).

I mean, I don't blame her. I imagine a bachelor's apartment after decades of depriving yourself of most joys in life could use ... a little TLC. Especially since they're going to both be enjoying the space. It's no longer only his flat. It just needs a little TLC and updating.

Connie is, of course, overjoyed at the invitation. A chance to bond with Bess? Um, OF COURSE she's game. They plan a whole day and route - this is gonna be thrifting with a PURPOSE, after all. She has a few stores in mind where she has had some luck with.

So, the day arrives, and they set out. They rent a car and driver for the day, just because thrifting can be heavy, and a car allows them to travel across town and have paparazzi pester them slightly less.

"So, we're looking for a little bit of everything, right?" Connie asks. "Anything off limits?"

Bess hums and mulls it over, thinking of all the rooms across the flat. They all need a little ... assistance, she thinks. "I think anything is fair game. Wolf hasn't updated his space in a while, and we're just looking to make things feel a little more ... homey."

"Oh, this is so exciting! Decorating is always so fun, but now you get to make the space up to suit you both as a couple!"

She gives Bess' shoulders a delighted squeeze as they pull up to the first store.

I imagine they girls start at some familiar places - thrift/vintage stores they've explored before. Some quaint places just filled with eclectic items. They look for smaller items first - maybe a cute spice shelf here, a beaded lamp/lampshade here. Maybe a lovely pair of velvet curtains to dress up the plain window blinds? They find some lovely, vintage paintings too, of course. Some feature lovely, dark-haired ladies, which Connie is quick to point out that Wolf will "surely adore."

They slowly work their way up, and at the next place, they find this amazing, Victorian-inspired full-length dressing mirror.

"Oh, just imagine this in the bedroom," Connie suggests dreamily. "You and Wolf taking turns helping each other into your outfits -- him zipping your dress, you fastening his cufflinks -- all while framed by this masterpiece? Oh, we should see if they have a chaise to pair with it! That way you and him have a place to sit while dressing.

Connie gets ... very much into helping out, haha. ^^;

She never pressures Bess into buying anything she clearly doesn't like. Connie, with her knowledge of what Bess and Wolf like, tries to find pieces that fit the bill, and paint a picture of how they might look styed.

As they fill the car with oil paintings, vases, hand-tufted pillows and more, one of the last places they go is one of those more expensive stores. There's a doorman, which woman waves to as she and Bess stroll in, arm-in-arm. It's definitely a high-class store, but the pieces are STUNNING, and they're not badly priced either for what they are. There are tons of heavy, gorgeous heritage furniture pieces.

There are GORGEOUS, pearlescent-finished wooden armoires, and an AMAZING Turkish rug that would look so gorgeous in front of the fireplace. "Perfect for cozying up - among other activities~"

Along the way, as Bess finds smaller items or things that she's a little hesitant to buy ("Ooooh, I love this, but don't want to overwhelm his flat with just my stuff! Maybe I'll think about this for now ... ") she sneaks in a few extra purchases of those items as future birthday/Christmas gifts.

I imagine there are some shoppers that ... give them looks. The ladies are well-known for their afflictions at this point with the Scrooge Twins, and while many people are kind, there are obviously many jealous people. I feel like many upper-society ladies feel like they somehow 'robbed' them of their chance.

I'm sure the ladies hear some gossip. ("Look at those two, flaunting their money. Have they no shame?")

And Connie is quick to roll her eyes with a smile and whisper to Bess, "As if they aren't shopping in the SAME store we are. Some people, I swear."

She's not letting anyone dull their day.

By the end, I imagine they have QUITE the haul. They might even need some movers, depending on how large the pieces are. That night, I can imagine them getting takeaway and tag-teaming arranging some pieces in the flat. They decorate things juuust enough to play around and see how things look.

Connie clears out by the time Wolf comes home, so she's not in the way of them officially enjoying their space together or making some adjustments.

The second Wolf keys in, his reaction is visible on his face. The bare walls are adorned, the cold lights are replaced with gentle, warmer ones... and it feels so much more welcoming immediately. It feels like a home with a woman's welcoming, sensual touch.

Bess definitely gets many adoring smooches, and Wolf absolutely requests a tour of everything, wanting to see every chance.

"Tell me about your day, love. I'd love for you to walk me through and show me everything you found."

To have the woman he loves not only take the time and effort to make their flat feel more personable and homey ... it tugs on his heartstrings. No person, and no woman, has shown that care and attention to him before. It inspires him to actually THINK about flat decor, and while he's not the biggest shopper, he enjoys the idea of joining her on a future trip as they continue to make the flat their own. (And yes, I imagine he is QUITE enamored by the paintings as well - though the real woman at his side remains unbeatable in remarkableness.) <3

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

5 times Merlin got Arthur a good Christmas present and 1 time Arthur got Merlin the best Christmas present

Contains: temporary angst, banter, merthur, banter, mentioned argwen (not end game),banter, no smut, banter, Christmas Carol levels of effort applied to the happy ending, banter

ao3: 5 times Merlin got Arthur a good Christmas present and 1 time Arthur got Merlin the best Christmas present

The Start of a tradition

"MERlin."

Merlin sighs at the clear sign of an unavoidable list of chores or ribbing he's about to get.

"Yes, sire." He turns to see Arthur peeking out from behind the changing curtain, shirtless, of course, before he steps out and starts strutting over. He grabs Merlin by the shoulder and says as he drags him behind the curtain, "What is this?"

"Ah, that." Merlin notes.

"I know your brain is the size of a pickled egg, Merlin, but surely there was enough room to store an adequate amount of vocabulary to describe all the unusual things you get up to for when you get caught doing them."

The unusual thing in this particular instance was the pile of assorted items wrapped in some of Arthur's old shirts.

"Well," Merlin replied, "you know that holiday Christmas?"

"I've heard of it," Arthur replies with raised eyebrows, awaiting what he's sure will be an entertaining explanation if not an original one.

"Well, it is a tradition to give gifts to people on this holiday, and there are a number of kind, hardworking people I know who I thought might enjoy a little festive token of my appreciation for them."

"And you decided to hide them in my chambers?"

"Well, Gaius has a habit of popping into my room unannounced and you've been in council meetings all day, so I figured this was a good place to wrap and store them for a bit until I could find an effective way of sneaking them into a good hiding spot."

"Mmhm. And the shirts?"

"Well, it's a shame to waste good paper when there's more reusable and decorative material at hand."

"I see. Well, ignoring your complete disregard for whose chambers these are and whose shirts those are, I suppose it is a rather thoughtful thing to do for the recipients of those gifts."

If Merlin, wasn't mistaken, Arthur may have just complimented him. How peculiar. "Thank you, sire."

"Especially since you typically have no thoughts at all."

"Of course, sire," Merlin said with minimum sincerity (which, in this case, is less than none).

"And in the case of the surprise being spoilt for me already, you can go ahead and give me my present now."

Arthur had that look on his face like he had set up Merlin to get in trouble, not that Merlin ever needed help getting into trouble.

"Your present?"

Arthur pouted comedically. "Don't tell me you forgot to get me one."

"Well, to be fair, I did say I only got gifts for kind and hardworking people."

Arthur then had his most shocked trying-not-to-smile-face break free. That was one of Merlin's favorites.

"But as a matter of fact, I did get you something."

Arthur suddenly looked skeptical. "Really?"

"Yes." He walks over to the laundry basket he had brought up earlier with Arthur's freshly cleaned clothes, and dug around for two socks, which he proceded to ball up haphazardly and place in Arthur's hands before stepping away with an exaggerated bow.

Arthur quirked his lips and squinted his eyes the way he does when Merlin calls him a word he doesn't know. Another one of Merlin's favorite looks that Arthur does. "Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome," Merlin says gleefully. "Shall I finish getting you ready for bed, sire?"

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes fondly as he walks over to where Merlin has started turning down the sheets.

"You know, gifts are usually something one does not already own," he says as he lays part of the way down.

"Well, I thought it would be a nice reminder to appreciate what you already have, sire." Merlin said with a cheeky smirk as they stared into each others eyes, closer than they really ought to be. Merlin breaks eye-contact first and gives the covers a last pat before extinguishing all the candles except the one immediately by Arthur's bedside, which Arthur will blow out when he's ready.

"Good night, Arthur. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Merlin." Arthur says with an exasperated sigh. Merlin shuts the door on his way out and Arthur lays his head down to feel something hard underneath his pillow.

"Ow! What the?!" He shoots up and yanks the pillow away, to find a small box.

He picked it up and saw there was a note that said "For the best dollophead one could ever have the misfourtune of working for." Arthur huffed out a laugh. He opened the box to find it was an assortment of Arthur's favorite sweets. Some of them he hadn't had since he was a child. He remembers telling Merlin about it to prove him wrong when he complained about Arthur having no concept of what makes a sweet actually good.

Arthur smiled to himself. He put the box on his bedside table, tucked the note safely in the bottom of the drawer, and blew out the candle.

2. Penny for your thoughts?

Arthur sat at his desk and pressed his hands to his face, letting out the most exhausted breath of air he'd held all day. He still had three speeches to write for various holiday events in the coming week and a plan for food rations to draw up and later present to the council. He'd already had a long morning of training. It seemed he was now in for a long afternoon.

Suddenly a tray with three scrolls on it was plopped down in front of him with a loud clatter. He looks up into a familiar smiling face. "Hello Merlin."

"Your royal highness."

"What are these?" He asks as Merlin turns to get started on dusting, if you could call his version of it that.

"Drafts for your speeches this week. I'm sure you'll find them quite well-written."

Arthur did his best to contain his surprise. "Oh, you didn't trust that I could write them myself, then?"

"I just had a feeling you were going to ask me to write them, like you always do. Besides, I couldn't bare to let all those people die from boredom by letting you be in charge of what'd come out of your mouth."

"I resent that," albeit halfheartedly, Arthur notes to himself.

Suddenly, a paperweight fell off his desk. Strange, his arm wasn't anywhere near it. He bent over and picked it up. As he did, he heard the sound of something being open and shut. He looked up, but nothing seemed out of place.

"Did you hear that?" Arthur asked.

"Hear what?" Merlin asked back.

"That sound. I could've sworn I heard something."

Merlin gave him a look that told Arthur he didn't believe him. One of his least favorite looks from his manservant. "I think you're just tired, sire. Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to help Gaius with some potions and you have speeches to look over. I'll be back later."

And then Merlin was gone. Arthur looked at the scrolls before him and decided to get things over with. He opened one up and it didn't take long before he found one of the 'jokes' Merlin likes to throw in that would never be appropriate to say as a drunk in the local tavern, let alone as a future king addressing his subjects. Most of the speech was fine, but he certainly wasn't going to refer to himself as "His royal highness, Prince Cabbage Head," nor speak the plans he apparently has to give his manservant a year off.

He can't help but smile to himself as he opened a drawer to retrieve a quill for adding in the things he'd actually say in these places, which he always has to do. He never crosses out Merlin's jokes, though.

He opens the drawer and notices there's something in it that wasn't there before. It was wrapped in one of his old shirts. He picks it up, takes the shirt off of it and sees it's a journal. Nothing anywhere near as extravagant as he's used to. On the first page, is an inscription that reads

"With the face of a toad,

and the voice of a donkey,

here's a place to come up with better jokes,

Because yours are a bit wonky.

Merry Christmas Dollop-head."

He turns another page to find a somewhat poor drawing of a donkey with the face of a toad.

He thinks of the nights when he and Merlin would be sat by a fire on a trip. The calm of the night and the way the firelight cast everything from the tree branches to Merlin's cheekbones in warm shadows would often move him to write a few words of poetry on a scrap of paper.

Merlin is the only person he'd ever admitted to about his hobby. Or rather, the only person who'd found out despite Arthur's best efforts. And he always ribs him about it. Yet, Merlin is the only person Arthur trusts to read his poems without being genuinely unkind about their quality...or even just their existence. Granted there are some poems he wouldn't let anyone read, including Merlin. Especially Merlin.

This notebook would hereafter come with Arthur on trips as often as Merlin would.

3. Two Turtle Doves And a Little Wooden Bird

Arthur was currently preparing to face his worse nightmare. Dancing. In public, no less.

Every year, the five kingdoms held a winter ball to celebrate another year of peace and prosperity as well as to show that they would be ready and willing to aid and provide for one another in times of need, such as in the winter when food is scarce and travel is difficult.

This year, Camelot was hosting, which Merlin loved because it meant they didn't have to trek through the snow for days on end. He also loved it because part of this sacred tradition was for the hosts to start the ball with a dance.

Therefore, Merlin was getting the wonderful opportunity to watch Arthur prance around in frilly clothes. Finally, he gets payback for that stupid hat.

However, he enters Arthur's chambers to find him nervously practicing the steps, looking like he's going to throw up.

Okay, maybe payback is going to have to wait.

"You alright, Arthur?"

Arthur snaps his eyes to Merlin like he's just had an epiphany.

"Merlin!"

"Yes, that is my name. Woah!"

Merlin suddenly found himself getting dragged to the center of the room, Arthur circling him like he's checking the quality of a horse. This is strange, even by Merlin's standards. "Arthur?"

Arthur suddenly stops, his hands gesturing pointedly and his face looking like he's about to make Merlin do one of his least favorite chores. "I need you to help me practice for the First Dance. I only have a few days left to practice it and you're feminine enough to make a half-decent dance partner."

Merlin was certain he heard that wrong. "Come again?"

Arthur huffs annoyedly. "I need you to dance with me so that I don't make a fool out of myself in front of all the five kingdoms during the first Winter Ball where I'll be presenting myself as king."

"Ah." Merlin should've known. Every "first" Arthur has gone through as king so far has led to him being a huge ball of nervous energy. Merlin couldn't blame him. He knows perfectly well how much the weight of the land can take a toll on one's shoulders. And he's known Arthur long enough to understand the toll it's taken on him, in particular.

"Arthur, I'm sure you'll do fine. Besides, you have days to perfect the dance and you'll have Gwen to help keep you in time with the music."

"Or to be humiliated by her oaf of a husband. I've already shoveled so much responsibility on her by making her queen; a queen half the council disapproves of solely for the circumstances of her birth. I can't ask her to make up for all my short-comings on top of everything else. I need to be as much someone for her to rely on as she is someone I rely on."

To say it's rare for Arthur to be emotionally vulnerable is an understatement of great and prophetic proportions. This is always where Merlin needs to tread carefully.

"Gwen knew what she was getting into when she married you. She knew you were a leader of one of the greatest kingdoms in the world. She knew you are constantly having to talk your way into the minds and hearts of your fellow leaders, the council members with dated views on what is good and just, and even your own people, many of whom are used to your father's way of doing things, if not supportive of them.

Arthur settles a bit, though still with a tightness to his shoulders and stress in his eyes.

"She knew she would gain an immense amount of responsibility and have her honor and capabilities picked at viciously. She knew she would have to get used to protocols and traditions of which there are thousands to learn about and keep in mind at all times.

"She also knew she'd have you at her side. She knows you love her and would do anything to ensure her happiness and well-being. She knows if there is anything she can't handle, which you and I both know is not a very long list,"

He got a small smile and hum of agreement out of Arthur for that.

"She knows she can come to you for anything. She does rely on you, Arthur. As much as you rely on her, and you know why?"

Arthur's eyes light up with hopeful curiousity.

"Because you've already proven to her that she can. You continue to prove it every day."

It's true. Merlin has seen how a touch of his hand calms Gwen when the crowds or the sternness of the council gets too overwhelming. He's seen how one shared look from either of them can change the other's scared expression to battle-ready. They were both born to be leaders. Putting them together only made them each more powerful and the kingdom more secure.

"She also married you knowing you couldn't dance for the life of you, so I really wouldn't worry about disappointing her there. I'm sure her expectations aren't that high."

A laugh burst out of Arthur at that. He'd barely had stopped laughing by the time he said "Thank you Merlin."

Merlin smiled back at him, then looked away as though considering something. "You know...Here." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small wooden carving of a bird, similar looking to the bird that is engraved on his mother's sigil. Very similar, indeed.

"I have a carving of a dragon, one of the few things I ever received from my father. Whenever, I hold it, I feel protected. Hopeful. Like I am more... capable and strong than I sometimes... feel I am."

Merlin takes a moment to swallow and gather the words he'll say next. Being emotionally vulnerable isn't all too easy for him either.

"It's also just something of a good luck charm. I just sort of figured, if you ever felt like you needed an extra bit of luck, it might be nice to have something to remind you of your own strengths. The things that make you a good king, a good husband, a good son. A good friend."

He looks Arthur in the eyes when he says this.

"You truly are destined for great things Arthur. You have everything you need within yourself to continue being a great king. And you don't have to do everything on your own. You have people who care about you. People who trust you and who will never judge you for whatever missteps you may make because they know you're only human. And that you're true-hearted enough to set things right when you need to. The people who matter will never abandon you for something as small as not satisfying the impossible standards of stuffy old farts."

"You know, you really shouldn't insult them like that," Arthur comments.

"Fine, I'll insult them even more creatively, then."

Arthur rolls his eyes. They land on the steadfast gaze of Merlin's, as strong in hue as they are in character.

Merlin holds out the small wooden bird. Arthur takes it and observes it. The detail on the wings. The familiarity of the shape. The smooth texture. He quickly glances up at Merlin before saying "You made this yourself?"

"I did." he answers softly.

"So wood-carving is one of those hidden talents you're always going on about, huh."

They smirk at one another, knowingly.

"One among many."

"I'm sure."

They're silent for a moment longer before there's a knock on the door and a guard reminds them of a meeting Arthur is being summoned for.

A few days later, the ball would take place and Arthur would actually have fun dancing with Gwen. He also, would only trip once, totally on purpose, to make Gwen smile amusedly, which she does. After a few dances, however, he's had enough. Gwen had too, and she goes to make charming conversation with their guests for a while, occasionally taking a break to converse with her ladies in waiting, many of whom, she's been friends with since before she was queen.

Arthur makes pleasant small talk with everyone as much as he can, but it is exhausting. He tries to get away so that he can banter with Merlin and just breathe, just to calm down a bit. He can't though. Everyone wants to talk to him and the room is so full of people dancing and milling about that he can't even see where Merlin is. He reaches a hand casually into his pocket and takes hold of the wooden token Merlin had given him. He thinks of what Merlin said. About his father, about their friends, about hope and strength.

Arthur will never tell Merlin this, but he truly must be a genius, because that little bird really did end up making him feel better.

4. Practice Makes Perfect

Arthur holds Excalibur in his hands. It truly is a magnificent sword. If ever there was a blade to convince you a legend was real, it was this one.

Still, Arthur has a hard time believing Merlin was being entirely truthful about the whole thing. He watches as Merlin speaks with some of the villagers. There really was a lot to do. Still, there was something he wanted to do that he didn't want to risk losing the chance to do.

"Merlin!"

Merlin immediately looks his way, excuses himself from the people he was talking to, and walks over.

Arthur reaches into his pocket and before Merlin can get a word out, shoves his old sword into his hands, much to Merlin's annoyance.

"Is polishing your sword really a priority right now, Arthur? I thought we-"

"That's not my sword."

"What?" Merlin blinked at him.

"That's not my sword. This is," he says, grasping the hilt of Excalibur.

Merlin looked delightfully flabbergasted.

"That's your sword." he continues.

"Arthur, you know I'm rubbish with sword-fighting. What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You're supposed to hit people with it. Preferably enemies. Consider it your Christmas present this year."

Merlin was flailing his mouth open and closed like a dying fish. Arthur told him as such.

"Arthur," Merlin called as he followed Arthur, who was resolutely walking away. He stammers for words. "Why your sword?"

"Practice makes perfect. Or, in your case, it ought to at least make you able to fight something bigger than an ant without getting knocked on your bottom. Besides, It's a practical gift. Don't I always get you practical gifts?"

"Yes, warm clothes and books, things I use regularly. But I hardly use a sword on a regular basis. It's not that I'm not grateful, don't get me wrong, but I just want to understand, why the change in routine?"

Arthur stops and looks at Merlin, then at the sword that he's had for quite some time. It was one of his favorites. Well-balanced, easy to wield, and not too flashy. Excalibur was clearly symbolic enough to justify the gold inlay and engravings, making it quite clear that this was not just a king's sword, but the king's sword. Arthur could feel that this sword was meant to be in his hands. Nonetheless, "That sword has served me well, Merlin. Even if your skillsets are lacking, and I worry for the safety of yourself and those around you when you have any sort of weapon in your hands, we're going to need all the help we can get now. And I trust that sword to be the most helpful to you in battle. So just take it."

He looks at Merlin intensely, making it clear that he won't back down.

Merlin sees this, and gives in with a nod. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Later, after they get back home and finally have time to rest, Arthur will find a new journal wrapped up for him; He had filled the last one and, evidently, Merlin had noticed, which wasn't very surprising.

This time, the inscription reads,

"Even if my skillsets are lacking,

Yes, I remember that slight.

Stop telling me I'm slacking,

I can still beat you with words if not in a sword fight.

Merry Christmas Clot-pole."

5. I'm Sorry

It was the first Christmas without Arthur. Merlin did as he often did these days, and visited the lake. He kneels by the edge, feeling the cold mud soak through the knees of his trousers, which he found vaguely comforting.

"It's that time of year again," He speaks aloud. "I've had the hardest time thinking of what to give you."

"When you gave me your sword, you told me you trusted it to be the most helpful to me in battle. I had given you a sword that I had hoped would be most helpful to you in battle. In the end we probably would've been better off if we'd have swapped, I think."

"I went through your journals the other day. I found...some poems, that sort of explained why you were always hesitant to let me so much as glance at the damn things, when I'd already seen a number of your other poems. I must admit, I feel like a fool for...well, for a lot of things. For my part in turning Morgana into a monster. For pushing Mordred to her. For not telling you about my magic sooner..."

"For not telling you-" He's near sobbing now, his tears falling to wet the ground even further.

"For not telling you everything. For all the mistakes I made. For not being able to save you."

"I'm sure, if you were here, you'd be underwhelmed at my choice of gift for you, but I truly think it's the best I can do."

"...I'm sorry, Arthur. That's my gift to you. I'm just sorry, for telling you 'there could be no place for magic in Camelot.' I'm sorry for the lies and the secrets. I'm sorry for letting you go anywhere near that battlefield. I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry."

+1. All I Want For Christmas Is You

Merlin would visit the lakeside every year, sometimes for a very long while, sometimes for just a few moments. Eventually, he'd barely find the strength to stop by at all.

Several hundred years after that, he'd get a job as a mail carrier, with a route that goes right by the lake. He walks that route now, in the winter cold and pauses for a breath. He doesn't look. He knows it's there. He knows he's not there. Not yet. Possibly not ever, at this point.

He continues along his route, as he has done over and over again, and will continue to do so over and over again until something forces him to change his habits as things do over and over again.

Until then, he keeps walking.

On this particular day, however, he must have been due for something to change again because something catches his eyes and ears. He hears the splash of water. He sees a glint of something shiny rising out of the lake. His heart stops. He drops his bag. He runs. His joints ache. He de-ages himself as he runs, so he can get to the lake faster. He gets there. He gets there and sees a fully armored, soaking wet, King Arthur of Camelot standing before him. They lock eyes. Arthur says his name and Merlin barely keeps from knocking him back into the water as he hugs him. Arthur hugs him back just as fiercely.

One year later, Arthur and Merlin will stand together in their house that stands somewhere close enough to the city that they can easily visit many of their reincarnated friends, who'd found wonderful lives for themselves in this new modern world(including Gwen and Lance, who had already been married for two years by the time everyone's memories came back), but far enough out that they can be left alone when they wish it.

It turns out that everyone aside from Arthur had been born into this new time and had new lives. When Arthur came back, they all regained their memories, and were all happy to see one another (mostly). Morgana and Mordred would each have a number of very long discussions with everyone. Over time apologies from all parties would be accepted.

In the meantime, Arthur and Merlin would be together, talking with each other, healing together, loving one another. Soon enough another Christmas is right around the corner and Arthur says, "I may need help finding a gift for you. I truly can't fathom how one can buy things with that same small card over and over and over. Not to mention the fact that your money is basically invisible now. It's ridiculous."

Merlin chuckles as he lays his head against Arthur's shoulder, the two of them sitting on the couch together as Merlin introduces him to the masterpiece that is "Monty Python and the Holy Grail."

After a moment of thought, he responds "Honestly, I don't think you need to get me anything ever again. You came back. That's all I've wanted for the longest time."

Arthur hugs him more tightly at that. Then he says "You're not getting out of me getting you a gift, by being all sappy."

"And you're not getting out of learning about modern currency by being cute."

"But you admit I'm cute."

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

They quickly end up wrestling each other until they've fully rolled off the couch and soon, it turns into a giggling mess of kisses and holding onto each other for dear life.

Even though he tried his best, Arthur has never been the best at picking out gifts for people. But in Merlin's book, nobody could ever beat the gift he got him that year. Nothing would ever top reuniting with the love of his life and finally living happily ever after.

[riaaanna]

Queen Fanclub Convention 2023 Part 7: the rest of the fun!

I'm done with all those long transcripts so this post will be more of photos and vibes! While the guest panels were the bulk of the main event during the Convention, there were a lot of other things going on parallel and in-between. I'll just be posting a few things with somewhat interesting contents - to me at least!

Marketplace

Can't really capture the whole atmosphere in one shot but as the name suggests, this is where Queen fans put up their stalls to sell their Queen-related things. They range from handcrafted works to rarity bootlegs, so it was all quite a mix! It was honestly like walking through a hoarder's den lmao, but in a somewhat organized way. Anyone I've seen or heard about as Queen collectors online, they were probably there, or at least their stuff were. Just to give you an idea here are people putting up their Sotheby's purchases right there.

I was mainly a woman on a mission for rarities, but this was Saturday morning before the panel and I didn't want to lose my spot at the good table, so I had to go about it quickly and efficiently. I didn't want to fall for obvious scams either which there are a lot! So my right hand was browsing through items while my left was on the phone scrolling through file folders and chats (£60 for a 1984 bootleg?? I have that in a freakin OneDrive link 😭). I bought something cheap that, in panic, I thought I didn't have, but it turns out I did. Not a big loss and it was a much nicer quality so it was fine...

MPT also had their own stall inside the hall (not part of the Marketplace), this was just a small selection. And you can hear a trivia quiz running in the background lol.

Charity Auction and Raffle

I didn't participate in the auction and I only spent a little on the raffle (and didn't get anything lol, lots of people bought huge amounts of raffle tickets), but there were some interesting things! List of the auction items on the left (📸 Ian Knight) and list of the raffle items on the right.

I loved seeing the handwritten things up for auction, again all the images below were taken by Ian but cropped by me.

From left to right. First is #6, Roger's handwritten letter for the fanclub magazine in 1994, talking about his song "Nazis 1994".

Next is #10, a lyrics sheet of Say It's Not True with Roger's handwritten note: "This is a sad song about a horrible situation anyone could find themselves in! 46664!"

Last is #21, Brian's "favourites" questionnaire, handwritten and signed. He loves Queen II and The Works (what a combo) and writes Anita Dobson under favourite actress 🥰

Party vibes!

The rest of the party is just good fun! Some of the calmer parts are team games and trivia quizzes, both Queen and non-Queen related, for the brainy fans! There is also a caravan decorating competition and a fancy dress competition for the crafty fans! (I didn't take many photos of them myself and I've already used too many of Ian's lol, so sorry for the lack of photos...) There's also a crazy golf competition somewhere but I did not check that out at all I was not there for that. Lots of music (tribute bands and DJs) and dancing which I could only indulge in for a small amount of time before I drained my entire social energy lol. Here's a tradition at the Convention which they call the Breakthru train, lots of fun!

Overall a really fascinating first-time experience at the Queen Fanclub Convention! It was very satisfying content-wise and, while I was wary (a party for 3 days? my God) it was also very fulfilling social-wise! I'm glad I decided to give it a go before returning home. It wouldn't have been the amazing experience that it was without everyone who was there with me but especially Ian, Rob, Cilla, Reece, and of course everyone else I met up and chatted with. Meeting fellow Queen fans irl is always a highlight that just hits different.

If you're still here that's incredible! Thank you for reading!

[affectionate-team]

Phantom thief

October TWST collab with @jade-s-nymph - day 13.

(Riddle × reader fluff)

There was still a week or two left before Halloween, but, punctual as always, the Heartslabyul Housewarden started preparing in advance. Considering this event will gather residents from all over Sage Island, including high-standing individuals and elite of all kinds, putting any less than maximum effort into costumes and decoration is ultimately out of option.

Not like Riddle has ever done anything other than his best. His mother would have had his head on a platter if he had - after all, Mrs. Rosehearts expects only perfect reputation and flawless image from her child.

That means every little detail must be in order. And whatever is happening right now is, in fact, nowhere close to order.

"WHAT?!", rings out an outraged screech, loud enough to crack glass, alarming students from all around.

Riddle was pacing back and forth in the common rooms, leaving a clear circular pattern with heel imprints in the carpet. Deuce sweatdrops, having already regretted coming here. The Housewarden had already been stressed enough on a daily basis, but the shade of red that his face this time around gained was alarming.

Barely a minute ago, he was notified of serial disappearances all around the dorm; Some fiend had apparently thought it would be a great idea to steal all the clock and watches in the entire Heartslabyul! As absurd as it was, the little prank set Riddle, a natural perfectionist, off on a whole another level. His card soldiers always come late as it is, but with all the watches disappearing every day is bound to become a disaster.

The Queen's most trusted soldiers, Trey and Cater, had to go an extra mile to console their dormleader that day. The former even decided on baking extra sweet strawberry tarts just to avoid the younger boy's mental meltdown.

"Just think about it - a phantom thief appearing as if out of nowhere, disrupting peace and urging the detective to unravel the mystery behind their act... It's, like, straight-out-of-a-novel scenario!", Cater exclaims, "Take it easy, consider this a game. Or, eh, a... puzzle of sorts? You like those, right? Leave all the prep work to froshies and go catch the criminal!"

"YOU- You think this a game?! How can I-", the red-haired boy takes a deep breathe. 'Keep calm, breath and count to three...', he repeats to himself. "How am I supposed to 'take it easy' when I have a rulebreaker on a loose? The Queen of Hearts' rule number 53, stolen items must be-"

"He's right, Riddle", Trey chimes in, wiping hands with a towel, "You've been running yourself ragged lately, way more than needed, and Halloween is over a week away." He steps closer to the counter, leaning on it and giving one of his signature smile - warm and reassuring, befitting a typical older brother, "Our dormmates are working extra hard, all of them are excited for the holiday, so they're motivated to do their best; and aren't all these preparations the same we do before unbirthday parties? We got it down to a fine art, nothing bad will happen if you leave the freshmen unattended. At worst, Cater and I can supervise them. Right, Cater?"

The boy in question didn't answer, too occupied with choosing hashtags for his new photo (he switched his attention from one thing to another again...), mumbling under his breath. Trey heaved a sigh, planting hands on his hips like a stern teacher that was forced to deal with a notorious troublemaker.

"Cater.", he said in a harsher tone. Having gotten used to Clover's usual patience and soft voice, both Cater and Riddle shivered.

"Y-YES, sure thing!"

Nobody would ever want to deal with an enraged Trey...

"Why are they so insistent on me doing this personally and, moreover, alone...? These two are acting strange.", Riddle was standing at a balcony overlooking the Gardens, where students of Heartslabyul were working on preparing decorations. Everyone had a task of their own - no slackers in sight. 

The two upperclassmen managed to talk Riddle into stepping away from his duties to focus on investigating. Which was weird, as there was nothing 'fun' about having to fish out troublemakers and give out punishments, at best it only added more stress to his life...

Taking a deep breath, he slid a card out of his back pocket - Seven of Hearts. Deuce said that cards like this one were found in place of every stolen item. Whoever was behind this all was being bold, to leave a piece of evidence on purpose? But why a card; was it a reference to their dorm setting? A mocking in the face of THE Queen of Hearts?

"Unacceptable...", the Housewarden grumbled, "I'll see to it that the rulebreaker receives a suitable punishment."

Another 'surprise' was waiting for him in his own room. The tall Grandfather clock, surprisingly enough, was standing steady in its natural place. Nothing would've been amiss, if not for the lack of clock hands. In their place was pinned another card - seven of Hearts. The floor under the grand clock had faint trails of scratches, as if somebody had tried moving it but, after failing to do so, had decided to put everything back in place. Riddle took a long furious stride towards the clock, heels clicking with each step. Even with the shoes' added height, he finds it difficult to reach the card, which infuriates the boy even further. With a stomp and a 'hmph' Riddle (unwillingly so) goes to fetch a stepping stool.

"I can't believe this petty little-... what does this mean?!"

"Dear Mr. Detective ;) Riddle,

You must've noticed some things missing in Heartslabyul. I hope you don't mind me stealing some of your precious time.

If you want me to return all that has disappeared, I expect to see you tonight, south of the rose maze. Make sure to look your best!

Truly,

Your phantom thief.~♡"

...were they... toying with him? Who would dare to demand an unscheduled audience with him, and in such a bold manner, too?! The audacity them must have to assume he'd just follow their demands blindly!

Late evening rolled around, just an hour before curfew. Even the tough fabric of his school uniform couldn't keep the chilly autumn wind away. Riddle folded his arms, tucking palms into his jacket to preserve warmth. Rose bushes and hedges stretch out far, high and wide.

...He came here out of his own will, not because he had no other option. Of course.

Nobody's in sight. Only crickets' song fills in the cold silence. Whoever had left that note must've played a prank on him to make him out as a fool. That's what he was about to think of, if only he hadn't noticed a faint glow of a candle from behind a bush. Rounding a corner, Riddle notices a path of rose petal leading deeper into the maze, straying from the general path.

Getting into a ready stance with a magic pen in hand, the Housewarden sets off to follow the trail.

A hint of a classical piece, one from his personal collection of favorites, plays from afar, growing louder with every step taken forward.

The petals take him to a clearing. A round table is served with a dainty teapot, a set of matching cups and plates with a colorful flowery pattern. Next to them are fresh tarts and cupcakes that emit mouthwatering aromas and puffs of heat. Fairy lights decorate the area, painting it in a warm pink glow. An old-fashioned gramophone creaks with every spin of the needle, playing a merry tune. This setting doesn't seem hostile.

He only lost his composure for a second, but that was more than enough for the phantom thief to make their appearance without being noticed.

"Do you like this?", they whisper in Riddle's ear, blowing some air and almost making him squeak in fear.

The flustered boy turns around, just to come face to face with the Ramshackle prefect, [Name]. Their figure was covered by a dark coat, the cape falling off their head to reveal a mischievous smirk on the prefect's face. After taking a step closer to Riddle, they take a hold of his hands, placing gentle kisses on knuckles of each with a fond smile.

"Sorry about making you worry and run around all day long...", they mutter out, "...but I just couldn't find a way to keep you from entering the gardens otherwise. I know for a fact that Ace and Deuce wouldn't be able to distract you without spilling everything, and Trey and Cater are already busy."

"Are you saying that they were all in on your scheme?", the boy asks, bewildered. How hasn't he noticed sooner?

"Aha, ma~ybe? It doesn't matter! Now, as a payback for wasting so much of your time today, let me treat you to some tea.", [Name] loops their arm with Riddle's, leading him closer to the table and move a chair out for him.

He hesitates for a while, making prefect furrow their brows in worry.

"You should've already memorized it by now... All stolen things must be replaced. So you better make this worth the time I spent.", he says, turning to look them in the eyes, grabbing them by the collar of their shirt and pressing a kiss on their cheek with a little too much effort, almost making them fall backwards. He takes a seat on his chair with a huff, desperate to mask his growing embarrassment, and hides his blossoming blush with a hand.

[Name] takes a few seconds to process the notion before they erupt in a fit of giggles, taking a sit opposite of the housewarden, happy with the outcome.

This evening date promises to be a pleasant one.

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

Is there any chance you can give us a tag directory?

I can certainly try!!! Its not a complete directory because i have over a hundred and even i lose track of all of them. Anyways im putting the list under the cut ... i tried to organize it to the best of my ability so GENERAL is for housekeeping, TANGIBLE CONCEPTS are for physical things, FLEXIBLE CONCEPTS are things that hover between physical and conceptual, INTANGIBLE CONCEPTS are things that fully conceptual, and SPECIFIC MEDIA is for specific bands/shows/etc. I highly recommend if youre on mobile you DO NOT hit keep reading because its absurdly long and will take over ur dash. Anyways have fun knock urself out

GENERAL:

hollyws: original posts..... went by holly for a while on here, first url was honeyhollows, hollows has similar spelling to holly, you get the gist

a: a is for assorted, so anything that doesnt have an actual organizational tag goes in there-- memes, textposts, current events, etc

srb: self reblog, but not for every one of my og posts that i rb, just the ones that surpass a thousand notes and therefore get deleted. Its my greatest hits pretty much

for later: links, resources, things i want to return to, you get the gist

tag game: those like questionnaire-type games one gets tagged in

asks: asks that ive answered

vdo: in-app videos

the world flows past on both sides distant and mute: audio tag. From nazim hikmet's poem "things i didnt know i loved"

mb: moodboards

our hands empty except for our hands: webweaving and parallel posting. From ocean vuong's "on earth we're briefly gorgeous"

fave: favorites, obvs

blog thesis: the tag equivalent of me calling something real as hell, containing things that qualify as my belief system

my face: selfie tag, but most (all of them actually) get deleted approx 24 hours from original posting time so there's not really anything in there

maeve tag: pictures of my dog reside here

foster tag: my family fosters dogs sometimes, so if we've got a foster and i post a picture, it goes here

matryoshka dog, blue is your color, gi posting, betsy's ordination song, evan's dream journal: personalized tags for friends of mine

TANGIBLE CONCEPTS:

born to blow your mind or something along those lines: art! From the last shadow puppets' "miracle aligner"-- pretty much everything but photography...

the human eye is the loneliest creation: ...because this is the photography tag. I typically only use it when an image doesnt fit into any other tag, so its basically my "a" tag but for like formal images only. Kind of an ocean vuong quote but i changed it from "the human eye is god's loneliest creation" to that bc i go back and forth on god and whatnot

there's a brand new talk but it's not very clear: fashion, both in the conceptual runway sense and the "this is cute, i would wear this" sense. Aptly from david bowie's "fashion"

play pause rewind: anything having to with film or tv (that i dont have a specific tag for)-- gifsets, interviews, editorial style guides, etc.

people!: pictures where you can put a name to the face, so either celebrities or pictures that have their name in the caption

let it go free: items-- jewelry, knick knacks, tchotchkes, etc. A combination of things i would want and things i find beautiful, which are not necessarily mutually exclusive

cabinet of curiosities: a multitude of objects at once-- dollhouses, boxes full of stuff, dishes of jewelry. Its different from "let it go free" because i said so

interiors: decor, interior design, etc.

dishes: plates and platters and whatnot that i like

they really want you: dolls. From hole's "doll parts"

the light on your door: mirrors. From the velvet underground and nico's "i'll be your mirror"

releases: cars, usually crashed or rotting or in some other form of disuse, but also just normal, completely fine cars. Go watch crash 1996 dir. david cronenberg and then we'll talk

hundred voices: spirals. Also concentric circles.

nacreous: pearls, things with a mother-of-pearl inlay, etc

it's coming coming down: eyes. From sonic youth's "beauty lies in the eye"

bad girl meat: teeth. From lady gaga's "teeth"

divine and sharp: weapons, or at least some very pointy things one shouldnt run with

happiness is: a warm gun. Guns in general actually-- this is my tag for guns. From the beatles' "happiness is a warm gun". Duh

prisms: food. Lots of cake in this tag but its all foods not just cake.... i just like cake

o sailor: sailing, nautical stuff, ships, etc. From fiona apple's eponymous song

it's buzzcut season anyways: cutting hair, from lorde's "buzzcut season".

tattoos: well, its tattoos. Not necessarily ones i would want or even inspiration for future tattoos, its just that if a tattoo is the main focus of an image, it goes in here

invitation to peace: deer tag, from system of a down's "deer dance".

draw blood just to taste it hold bones just to break them: canine tag as in dogs, not the teeth, and also one that i wish wasnt so long because man this is a pain to type out. From nicole dollanganger's "dog teeth"

weird fishes: fish. From radiohead's "weird fishes"

lo voy a tener que matar: cats! From los saicos' "el entierro de los gatos". Also yeah i know it means "i'm going to have to kill him" i just think its real funny

in silence i have pulled myself free: tag for horses and all things horse related. From pj harvey's "horses in my dreams"

cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other: cowboys. From willie nelson's eponymous song

they don't love you like i love you: places i grew up in/nearby-- it's pretty much everything west of colorado with a bit of mexico in there. From yeah yeah yeahs' "maps"

like the blue blonde hollyhocks of the dead: flower tag (all sorts, not just hollyhocks). Another bastardized quote, this time from sandra cisneros' a house on mango street-- the original is "dusty hollyhocks thick and perfumy blue-blond hair of the dead". Very good book you should read it

we return to each other in waves: things relating to the water-- the ocean, lakes, rivers, etc. It's definitely a quote from something but i cant find the og source and i dont trust pinterest

consumed and refined: fire, things on fire, burning, yada yada yada

tamer: ice, snow, frozen things, etc

01010000: all things mold and rot. Referring, of course, to the date the world began to decay, which was the day it was created

FLEXIBLE CONCEPTS:

lamentations! lamentations!: art or quotes or whatever that make me scream cry throw up wail howl prostrate myself etc.

the everything the patterns: my humanity tag! Doubles as both an "awww, arent humans cute?" tag and a catchall for people who aren't celebrities and don't have their names in the caption

god and other highways: religion and god, but mostly god. If you see something in there and you think "how could this possibly be related to god OR religion?" mind your own damn business <3

i believe in angels: things i consider to be angelic, which is a classification system even more lengthy and unnecessary than this tagging system. From abba's "i have a dream"

bolts in the head: monsters and generally spooky things. And yeah ik frankenstein doesnt actually have bolts in his head and that was a lie the movie made up but also the nature and definition of a monster is just as illusory and invented as the bolts are

whispers in the air: ghosts, or the fleeting nature of things, or the imagined, or the abstraction of the memory. So yeah its ghosts

when i love you it's forever: the dead, but focusing on the flesh left behind instead of the ghost that proceeds ahead. From "confessions of a skull mask", in the anthology "necrophilia variations"

we have put her living in the tomb: houses or general structures, officially haunted or otherwise (because all buildings are haunted in some way tbh). From my favorite edgar allen poe story "the fall of the house of usher" :)

the roots of the tree: things relating to childhood, development, or family

the lovers: art, photos, etc typically with two things interacting in some familiar way. Not necessarily nsfw, but theres definitely some lesbian erotica in there so beware

cut open my sternum and pull my little ribs around you: gore and blood and all that fun stuff. Not all images of blood go in here so if youre sensitive about pictures of blood beware. You probably shouldnt follow me if you are tbh. Anways it's from purity ring's "fineshrine"

is it a love song?: hunger, desire, violence, and the place where they intersect. Gore is in here also <3 and it's a quote from the 1983 film the hunger

race my heart race my soul: images i really really love. I would say its my aesthetic but aesthetics are a lie propagated by Big Capitalism to get you to buy more shit you dont need so no its not and dont get it twisted..... from "i'll never learn" by the shangri-las, which is possibly my favorite song. I go back and forth on what my favorite song is, but this one's up there for sure

put on your red shoes and dance the blues: all things red. From david bowie's "let's dance", but the original or 2002 remaster and not the 2018 remaster because as much as i love saxophone its totally out of the blue in the intro of the 2018 remaster and i dont like it

love me blue: all things blue, from zayn's "blue". And i have no qualms with any version of this song because i love you zayn

twilight sun: all things pink, from something that someone said to me in passing once and i thought it was nice.

the dead image of life: all things green

capable of charming god: all things yellow

tête à tête: ballet, and things relating to ballet. Even pictures of models with their ribbons tied all messed up go in here, im sorry to say

do you think you've made the right decision this time?: departure, transit, etc. Coming from, though, not going to-- the emphasis is on the leaving. From the smiths' "london" (underrated track tbh)

disappearance in transformation: bugs that can fly-- mainly moths and butterflies, but some beetles and other grubs appear here too

kill this chorus: people in relation to water-- in puddles, swimming, drowning, etc. Im not saying what this is from... if you know you know and also you know why that phrase pertains to that imagery

the luckiest by far: celestial bodies, clouds, the sky, etc. From madonna's lucky star

heaven waits on the other side: weddings, mostly brides and wedding dress-type stuff. From nicole dollanganger's "heart shaped bed"

godspeed your love: all things relating to love (and occasionally heartbreak). From possibly the greatest love song ever, the righteous brothers' "unchained melody"

lily left alone: playing cards and things having to do with suites of cards. Kind of from bob dylan's "lily, rosemary, and the jack of hearts" but not really

bloodied black: martyrs, warriors, knights. Lots of pictures of armor and joan of arc imagery here

mourning lamb: farm animals, mainly sheep but also cows and pigs and whatnot. From ethel cain's "ptolemaea"

all down: typography, handwritten things, etc-- everything from journal entries to song lyrics to letters to typed notes

time is a river: myths, folklore, classics, historical art, etc. Technically a quote from heraclitus but every knows it bc of marcus aurelius

INTANGIBLE CONCEPTS:

from the fire roads: get ready for this because this and the following five tags are all connected. This is the tag equivalent of exposition on the hero's journey-- the scene is a small town, a childhood bedroom, a parking lot, etc. From bruce springsteen's "racing in the streets"

and i see big things for you: this is the first threshold (transformation) in the hero's journey. In this particular case, the protagonist becomes a groupie for a band that passed through the town, and this world of travel and casual excess is very different from the world theyre from. The scene is a basement shows, cigarettes in a hotel bed, underfunded recording studios, etc. From wolf alice's "white leather"

somewhere there's a party: the "challenges and temptations" part of the hero's journey-- our protagonist gets tired of the constant moving and, craving something more, ends up in a big city working as a model/socialite. The scene is a closet filled with frills and designer clothes, a gala, the backstage of a fashion show, etc. From the replacements' "swingin' party"

don't cry about it: now at the second threshold (abyss) of the hero's journey, things start going downhill. The protagonist loses themself in a wave of drugs, sex, and excess; the scene is now a large bathroom with a shattered mirror, a smoke-filled bdsm club, a nosebleed, etc. From lana del rey's "this is what makes us girls"

careful fear / dead devotion: with the third threshold (atonement) in the hero's journey comes the protagonist's realization of their own rock bottom and the desire to get better. The scene is a dark bedroom with light coming through the door, a park at night, an open window, etc. From the nationals' "don't swallow the cap"

born with a weak heart: the end of the hero's journey-- the protagonist takes what money they have left and splits, getting a place in the middle of nowhere and working as an attendant somewhere they won't be recognized. The scene is a clearing in the woods, a warm kitchen, a grocery store, etc. From talking heads' "this must be the place"

there was to be no death in eden: Mostly i use it for animals that i dont have a specific tag for, large groups of animals, animals in little people clothes, fantasy art, folk tales, children's books, or anything else i consider to be edenic. Im gonna be honest with you i have a weird idea of eden because i saw it in a dream ... more on that here if u scroll down to where it says september 22 2023. Its an ellen g. white quote im pretty sure, and while i personally hate the seventh-day adventists and everything that entails, i do respect a woman who gets visions

you got your good thing: things pertaining to heaven, which is a vibe i cannot possibly explain bc i saw it in a dream as well but i will link you here nonetheless and just hope you get it. In short basically heaven is an archive and the angels never build it right because they're working off pure image untainted by emotion and human perspective so everything looks a little wonky and clinical (they mean well though). From david lynch's "in heaven (lady in the radiator song", off the eraserhead 1977 soundtrack

pelican island: birds. Also any sort of ghostly island or mysterious shore. Ghosts, too. From deena metzger's eponymous poem

ST PAUL MOMENT ST PAUL MOMENT: the nature version of my humanity tag. Refers to the biblical tale of st. paul, who was blinded then healed by jesus as a way of converting him to christianity (which is fucking crazy and sooo dramatic but we're not here to talk abt that). The point is that its the sensation of being awakened to a natural power higher than yourself, like how flowers always have a number of petals that complies with the fibonacci sequence

thou mayest: being good, being bad, the feeling of being torn between your capacities for good and evil, the shame of feeling evil, etc. Go read john steinbeck's east of eden and then we'll talk

soul opium: solitude, isolation, loneliness

thorn without a rose: hole theory. From aerosmith's "hole in my soul" #sorrywomen

shadows: poems that come off as gray to me. Yeah i dont know either man they just do its a very specific vibe and there is no other way to describe it than gray

ritualism: the color white being used in a holy, ritualistic context (or at least a context i perceive as holy)

74: my yamaha tx750 was created in 1974, which is a year that is important to me for no other reason than that (if u go into the tag its pretty obvious and if its not.... well im not telling)

p: im not sayinggggg. But here you will find white horses and things about grief

are your ears on?: writing, particularly having to do with the idea of a grand overarching narrative that tropes are forcefully enacted within

SPECIFIC MEDIA:

it's impossible to compete with the dead: my tag for all things sharp objects-related. Tag is a quote from the book

spn: that would be the 2005 cw show supernatural. #Sorry

mcr: that would be the post-hardcore band my chemical romance. #Sorryyyyyyy

shattered teacup: tag for the 2013 tv show hannibal and no other version of thomas harris's work-- silence of the lambs and whatnot can be found in the "play pause rewind" tag

little nudie turtles: tag for the 2018-2023 hbo show succession. Quote by tom (it's literally tom).

and the angels wouldn't help you: tag for david lynch's twin peaks, both the show(s) and the film

time is a flat circle: tag for season one of true detective... haven't watched the other seasons of this show because honestly nothing can beat that. So its only for season one

[a-s-levynn]

JOOO you used to sell swords?? That's so cool!!! If you feel like reminiscing and using this as an opportunity to tell everyone about that very awsome sounding job, I would love to hear about it :D if not just take this as me being a tumblr mutual who wants to be your friend now even more 😂 swords are so cooool

I sure did! Oooh my god. You have no ide what sort of pandora's box you've opened. I love talking weaponry. I also spent an unreasonably long time trying to dig up old pics.

So i snatched this unreal job by a total accident. During uni, a friend of a friend of mine were preparing to go to study abroad for a few months and needed a temporary replacement. And when we met for the first time, half jokingly asked if i liked swords. Yes, yes i do find all kinds of blades incredibly sexy thank you very much. And not a lot of time later i was sitting behind the counter. And stayed there for roughly three years.

It was a sword and decorational weaponry shop. I mean it still is. But i may talk about it past tense because i'm not there anymore. 😭 We had like functional swords and daggers for HEMA and other traditional stuff. Lots and lots of katanas and a few wakizashis and tantos for martial arts or just for decour. We even had like the long ones.. what are they called.. odachi and nodachi! And that sort of spear like a guandao, naginata. There were khukri knives as well. Modern knives.. A lot of stuff. And then decorational stuff from movies, anime or video games for just to put on a wall or elevate a cosplay.

Even decorational fire arms up until modern stuff. Altho fire arms where strictly decorational items, manufactures in ways that they were safe and unchangable into usable stuff. And a fewfigures, jewellery and some tarot cards and some other nick-nacks that fit the theme.

I don't have access to my drives at the moment but i found some old pictures.

Okay so this was the second showroom, i can't find picture of the old one, i liked that one better but there was a location change and this one is smaller, less packed. But still the important parts are there. These pictures are about 3 years old as well at this point.

Please note the little knight with the megaphone in the corner on the monitor. I designed that one. Precious friend shaped little dude.

This picture is Ezio's dagger from Assassin's Creed. It's not dirty just freshly out of the shipping box, swimming in grease to protect it from rusting. This one was a functional piece. The handle seems wide but it's not disproportionate, only my hands are small.

But we had like.. i dunno sabers of many kinds..and chinese swords with rigid blades to those weird but really fun floppy ones as well.

That green wall belonged to the old showroom my beloved 😭

Also there were pieces of armour and all. Not just full but chainmails and roman style, shields. Bows and Crossbows. Basically everything.

And like besides the selling and online customer service stuff, i did a lot of polishing, i probably enjoyed that the most. Of course the heavier damage or problems were handled by proper craftsmen but a simple polishing job? Gimme! -insert grubby hands- I'm gonna spend half a day on it but you gonna see yourself in it. Like this below. The left side is still unpolished, all foggy, but see the right? You can see the red shirt guy pretty good already. This helmet was so pretty after i was finished with it. I was so proud. 😭

And then there were some modern stuff. With these i also did the smaller mechanical epairs like a jammed spring or a loose trigger and the like.

This beretta was the first i took apart but i conquered it like a champ 😂 I was asking my boss if i could give it a try and he said as long as i don't break any additional parts go a head. Needless to say the second little guy landed in my lap without any question.

And there were so many other little highlights. I loved so many of the customers. I loved talking about their stuff or just listening to their stories. Uhh i miss it so much i can't even begin.

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, Books, 12: An eclectic library of dusty tomes, fictional textbooks, pocketbooks, paperbacks, hardcovers, booklets, leaflets and magical manuals. Paper leaves and the binding surrounding them can help define a character, kick off a subplot, fuel a fetch quest or simply serve as a generic macguffin. Commonly seen in video games such as Baldur’s Gate, Neverwinter Nights, World of Warcraft and Skyrim, book items are a way to subtly world build while still handing out sellable loot. A wizard has a spellbook, a cleric has a holy text and now you have a trinket list.

Anti-dictionary: A huge, leather-wrapped old book with no title, containing thousands of words along with their definitions in the common tongue. Each time it is perused, the reader forgets one random word, and it appears in the dictionary as a new entry.

An Arbiter's Log: A collection of annotated records of a member of the Arbiter's Guild: the nonpartisan body which referees official duels. The Arbiter in question, one Fralina Dailina Tailor Livii, from Empereoux, governed 221 duels over a career of 30 years in six countries. Her records, put down with both attention to detail and biting wit, serve as a remarkable recent history of dueling.

A collection of maps of the nearby provinces bound in an ebony cover.

Dhol Chants: An aged wood bound book without markings or a title on its exterior. Knowledgeable PC's will notice that an ink stamped marking on the inner cover shows that this book used to belong to the Miskatonic University's library. The object is not just old...it's ancient. The words inside are arranged into stanzas, but the language... It is the tongue of the lumbering dholes of the distant Vale of Pnath, where worlds collide and time does not exist. The letters form meaningless phrases, but if read aloud, somehow become understandable.

An apocryphal holy text used by an infamous heretical sect of Random Evil Domain.

Tome of Eternal Darkness: A mysterious book that rests cradled in what appears to be a leathery human hand. The tome is bound in human skin and intricately decorated with shrunken bones. The sigil of the God of Chaos is carved into the tome's clasp. The object beckons and yearns to be possessed and rewards those who truly grasp its pages with a cursed, short life of hysterical dementia. Its pages are written in a maddening, indecipherable scrawl. Only a randomly select few are able to read it, no amount of cryptography or magic can decode it. These special few that can read the tome do so regardless of their native language or literacy level. An uneducated, illiterate child slave may be able to understand its contents perfectly well, while a centuries old, elven polyglot archwizard may spend a lifetime failing to discern a single sentence.

A neatly stacked arrangement of professionally bound and labelled debtors’ records. Minimal indication is given as to the nature of the debts. Knowledgeable PC’s will be able to recognize some of the names or addresses within the book as persons or locations from the nearest large city.

Advanced Human Necrosplicing: A step by step process for magically combing human beings with body parts of beasts, monsters, and magical beings. Some of the results may not be proven to be effective and most subjects will die within seconds of being combined. That’s apparently not a barrier though as the magus was attempting to wed the schools of transmutation and necromancy together by creating augmenting humanoids with the physical traits of animals then raise the chimeric aberrations as particularly nasty undead.

A small sketchbook with various poorly executed drawings of everyday things, places, and people. The artist made small improvements as time went on, but even the very last page isn’t really that good.

A book consisting of pieces of unweatherd, thick parchment, lined by a thin string of gold woven into the paper. To anyone who cannot read magic, they are always blank and featureless. However, someone who can read magical notation or cast spells, the tome contains a multitude of information of the nature of divine magical arts. Descriptions of spells that clerics, paladins druids and other casters who channel their arcane power from divine or primal sources are listed here in great detail.

—Click Here to be directed to the Hotlinks To All Tables post, which provides (As you might have guessed) convenient links to all of the loot and resource tables this blog has.

—Click Here for additional Book Descriptions to give these objects even more personality.

—Keep reading for 90 more books.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

Anti-dictionary: A huge, leather-wrapped old book with no title, containing thousands of words along with their definitions in the common tongue. Each time it is perused, the reader forgets one random word, and it appears in the dictionary as a new entry.

An Arbiter's Log: A collection of annotated records of a member of the Arbiter's Guild: the nonpartisan body which referees official duels. The Arbiter in question, one Fralina Dailina Tailor Livii, from Empereoux, governed 221 duels over a career of 30 years in six countries. Her records, put down with both attention to detail and biting wit, serve as a remarkable recent history of dueling.

A collection of maps of the nearby provinces bound in an ebony cover.

Dhol Chants: An aged wood bound book without markings or a title on its exterior. Knowledgeable PC's will notice that an ink stamped marking on the inner cover shows that this book used to belong to the Miskatonic University's library. The object is not just old...it's ancient. The words inside are arranged into stanzas, but the language... It is the tongue of the lumbering dholes of the distant Vale of Pnath, where worlds collide and time does not exist. The letters form meaningless phrases, but if read aloud, somehow become understandable.

An apocryphal holy text used by an infamous heretical sect of Random Evil Domain.

Tome of Eternal Darkness: A mysterious book that rests cradled in what appears to be a leathery human hand. The tome is bound in human skin and intricately decorated with shrunken bones. The sigil of the God of Chaos is carved into the tome's clasp. The object beckons and yearns to be possessed and rewards those who truly grasp its pages with a cursed, short life of hysterical dementia. Its pages are written in a maddening, indecipherable scrawl. Only a randomly select few are able to read it, no amount of cryptography or magic can decode it. These special few that can read the tome do so regardless of their native language or literacy level. An uneducated, illiterate child slave may be able to understand its contents perfectly well, while a centuries old, elven polyglot archwizard may spend a lifetime failing to discern a single sentence.

A neatly stacked arrangement of professionally bound and labelled debtors’ records. Minimal indication is given as to the nature of the debts. Knowledgeable PC’s will be able to recognize some of the names or addresses within the book as persons or locations from the nearest large city.

Advanced Human Necrosplicing: A step by step process for magically combing human beings with body parts of beasts, monsters, and magical beings. Some of the results may not be proven to be effective and most subjects will die within seconds of being combined. That’s apparently not a barrier though as the magus was attempting to wed the schools of transmutation and necromancy together by creating augmenting humanoids with the physical traits of animals then raise the chimeric aberrations as particularly nasty undead.

A small sketchbook with various poorly executed drawings of everyday things, places, and people. The artist made small improvements as time went on, but even the very last page isn’t really that good.

A book consisting of pieces of unweatherd, thick parchment, lined by a thin string of gold woven into the paper. To anyone who cannot read magic, they are always blank and featureless. However, someone who can read magical notation or cast spells, the tome contains a multitude of information of the nature of divine magical arts. Descriptions of spells that clerics, paladins druids and other casters who channel their arcane power from divine or primal sources are listed here in great detail.

Four Things You Should Know About Bad People: A book that appears at first to be a thriller about three gang lords trying to outfox each other quickly evolves into a romantic comedy, as each falls in love with a complete idiot that foils their schemes unknowingly and by accident. Jumping between their perspectives, the reader learns the things that set the idiots apart from the genius criminals are matters of the heart, not the mind. The morals of the story teach the reader something fundamental about being alive, and leaves them happier and wiser.

The Fey; Creatures of Endless Mischief: A simple, leather-bound book with seemingly no author; the penmanship has an odd style unlike any academic the reader has ever read or seen before. The volume is not always at the last place is was left, sometimes moving a few feet to a new location or disappearing for days at a time only to reappear somewhere incredible obvious. When it is opened, the reader goes into a dreamlike trance for 1d4 hours (Or until he is touched, yelled at or suffers damage) while he stares at the book’s pages.

Thus Spoke Asmodeus: A comprehensive guide to devilology, dealing with the basic principles of conjuration from the lower planes, subchapters about ritual preparation (Attire, material components, time of abstinence to ensure success), probability of survival, the ethics of human sacrifice to the dark lord, and much else. It was written by Sauthes The Desecrator.

On the habitat, diet and behavior of mimics by Eldaskri the Unnoticed: A book, hard-bound in richly lacquered wood with brass hasps and lock. Printed along the spine in golden script is the title. The book is actually an intelligent mimic that will give lectures about mimic behavior, history and biology once bribed with food.

The Tome of Anguish: A wizard’s spellbook bound in black velvet. A single crystal tear falling from an eye carved from ivory and ruby adorns the center of the front cover. The pages are vellum. The spells inside inflict mental and emotional pain. Each spell can only be learned by shedding tears onto the page from feeling the type of pain described by the spell.

The Gauntlet: A fictional tale of a benevolent wizard who helped all those who came to him, no matter how insignificant the person or task. However, the constant frivolous and inane requests eventually started to drive him crazy. To combat this he, surrounded his tower with "The Gauntlet" to keep out all but the most determined and desperate who actually needed his help. The Gauntlet was an ever changing maze of traps, puzzles, & challenges designed to frustrate and dissuade most people by means of painful (Though nonlethal) injury, humiliating defeats or exhaustion from the ever-shifting mazes.

How to Succeed in Magic Without Really Trying: A book of the self-help style penned by an unknown author. It describes the journey of a wizard from apprentice to master. They never actually worked for their success and just always happened to be in the right place at the right time. Goes into detail on the important of knowing people in high places.

A gold banded spellbook set with obsidian and bloodstone gems, all the pages ruined by water.

A detailed diary of a local historian.

Golden Chains: A notable financial guide providing in-depth, professional explanations of borrowing, investing, saving advice, experienced market theory and a history of the standard gold coin. Most especially, it concerns how to best deal with fickle dwarven banks.

A book of collected royal decrees bound in the hide of a hydra.

A dog-eared copy of Man of Her Dreams, a novel by Simone Vertices, in which the heroine falls in love with a man from her own dreams and quests through the Dreamlands to bring him into reality. Halfway through, a scrap of paper serves as a bookmark; upon it is written “Meet me at the Gilded Graveyard, north entrance, midnight. Bring shovel.”

A book of historical knowledge that seems to detail an epoch approximately 2,000 years from the present and has been rather clumsily translated into Common. A handful of current powers and states are still vaguely visible in this future time but have become barely recognizable. This is either a work of artful science fiction or a translation from an authentic future history procured via time travel.

Great Escapes: A book banned in prisons, jails, and places of holding as a security risk, the text is full of tales of daring and often successful prison escapes, some of them from high security prisons that were seemingly totally escape-proof. It is thought that a few copies have been smuggled into prison and are providing secret entertainment for prisoners.

A Discerning Eye Regarding the Fine Arts of Gantref y Cwaelod, Gelig ap Hlannog, and Benmaenmavr; One's Studies of the Forms, One's Time Thereof, One's Difficulties and Arduous Physical Trials - A Complete Treatise: A hefty tome filled with purple prose and absolutely no art or diagrams, the text laboriously catalogues and attempts to describe fine art, music, and culture from a set of kingdoms that have literally sunken beneath the waves for hundreds of years by the time of the author. The author claims to have experienced the original works firsthand, but gives no explanation for how that was possible. Despite being titled 'A Complete Treatise', the book is maddeningly incomplete and spotty, and describes works of art that have been seen by no other living person. The author may or may not still be alive, having disappeared from the public eye some time ago.

Senate Report: A plainly bound book with a rather uninteresting title, but in fact it is a secret fact-file created by the secret service of one country about 30 Politicians of another country. Compiled from both public sources and the reports of secret agents, it contains their political views, strengths, weaknesses, secret affairs and how corrupt and bribable each one is. The sort of book that would be very useful both for blackmail and for discovering the weaknesses of the listed politicians, and is the sort of book that an aspiring politician would pay a band of adventurers highly to recover, by force if need be.

How To Hunt The Undead Without Getting Yourself Killed: This book has sections on all kinds of Undead, from the True Vampires and the exotic Bandage Beasts, to the metal plated Ironbones the burning issue of the Urn Beast and many more. Each section explains the strengths and weaknesses of a different kind of Undead and how to successfully kill it, or at least banish it if killing it is not physically possible. It warns against looting the Funeral Gold and Grave Silver often found with some types of Undead, as this can bring bad luck or even worse to the taker.

A History of Sunreturn Customs through the Ages: A written history of the winter celebrations of various religions, it shows how people have fun at the darkest, coldest times of the year, and has plenty of suggestions for how to throw parties in tight quarters with limited resources. The book has a chapter on Mythical Gift Bringers, including Father Olaf and his famous Sleigh of the Storm.

Shorthalt's Journal of Awful: A little black book inscribed with scrawlings of horrific poems. There are also bizarre, childish drawings of humanoids doing various acts of vile behavior.

An ornately illustrated book of prayers, consecrated to the specific local God of Random Domain.

Slaying Dragons: A hefty tome wrapped in leather created from the skin of a black dragon, Slaying Dragons presents impassioned reasons and techniques for hunting some of the most deadly creatures in all creation. It is somewhat ironic, however, that proclaimed dragon hater and the author of this tome, one Cevinar of the Saffron Robes, died a very public death on the claws of a red wyrm some eighty years ago. Despite his untimely demise the wizard was thorough in his research, his surviving work being a testament to that.

Unaussprechlichen Kulten: A book bound in heavy leather with iron hasps that contains information on cults that worship pre-human deities such as Ghatanothoa and includes hieroglyphs relating to the latter. There is also information on more recent cults including that of Bran Mak Morn, The Dark Man. It is from this work that the tale of the doomed heretic T'yog is most commonly sourced. The copy contains detailed descriptions of dark rituals and occult practices that in this day and age are considered particularly malevolent. Knowledgeable PC’s can tell that the book is a fairly decent translation from the original text (The translated title is Nameless Cults), which makes the knowledge it reveals all the more nauseating. An excerpt of one of the pages reads as follows; "If one wants to use the ritual of seven desecrated graves, brought by the horrible Ikvabe, rising the six serving undead, you will need to create a wand from oak or maple. The carvings on it should be made with an iron knife soaked in the blood of a fallen woman and the sperm of a sorcerer. While placing the signs, one should chant the following: "Fayn Eho Azarak Soh Nar Zkmelak Ole Ole Barrabas Ole Ole Hushitas", while holding the wand of the north.

A large book with a leather cover protecting hundreds of blank pages. It remains covered in dust no matter how often it is cleaned.

Campfire Cooking: 101 Recipes for the Hungry Adventurer: A simple cookbook with vibrant images of wildlife that identifies edible plants, poisonous plants, and more.

Cryptography, Iconography, Symbology, and More: A heavy, thick tome filled with riddles, symbols, and theories on their meanings and how one might weave or unravel them.

Evelyn's Encyclopedia of Enigmatic Entities: A thick, well-worn book that comes with a leather carrying pouch. The pages of this book contain diagrams and detailed information on all sorts of illusive figures from across the Prime Material Plane.

Grifting 101: A curious pamphlet that has a pyramid emblazoned across the front of it and at first glance appears to be the ramblings of a religious fanatic. Closer investigation reveals a cypher that unlocks the hidden meaning within the text.

How to Spot an Assassin; A Critical Analysis: A short manual authored by the former bodyguard of powerful noble that was targeted for assassination a number of times - each of which was thwarted. The text has useful information on how to properly guard an individual as well as how to spot traps, poisons, hidden weapons and body language of assassin’s trying to blend in.

Mordenkainen's Common to Primordial Dictionary: A book with a finely crafted leather binding with exceptionally thin-yet-sturdy pages. It is a well-renowned linguistic reference work authored by the Mordenkainen. The text allows the reader to translate common into primordial and back again as well as apply the subtle inflections and accent characters for the regional dialects of Auran, Auquan, Ignan and Terran.

Osbourne's Guide to Heavy Metallurgy: A large tome with a stark black cover bearing the disembodied head of a bat embossed into it. Its bindings of a red steel and the text relates to all things metal.

Swords and Gourds: A large well folded pamphlet that was once distributed by militias amongst small farming communities to help locals better defend themselves. It outlines simple straightforward safety measures that men and women with no formal military training can use to defend their homestead or village from packs or wolves, groups of bandits or a small goblin tribe. Most of the advice boils down to creating a big show of strength and focusing on a big group armed with slings, torches and pitchforks to cause the invaders to believe that it’s not worthwhile to attack, thus saving the defends from the brutalities of actual combat.

The Art of the Quickdraw; How to Shoot First and Ask Questions Later: A book of battle tactics that implores the reader to focus on making the first strike in combat. The text concurs that the majority of fights a lone man or band of adventures will be involved in are small skirmishes, no more than 6-18 seconds long from the fight blow to the last. In these cases, getting your first blow in before the enemy and making it count is the difference between sleeping well that night or sleeping forever.  

The Village Bike: A small book with the image of a lotus flower on its cover, this tome is an anthology of debaucherous romance stories that go into rather explicit detail.

Top Ten Lockpicking Secrets: A small, silver leather-bound book that can easily be stashed in the inner pocket of one's garb. The foreword to this book simply reads: "A thief's best friend."

A Rogue's Guide to Rooftop Running: A thin, twine bound set of papers, this volume instructs the reader on specific maneuvers that entail unorthodox movement including rolls, vaults, and landings.

Baldur's Gate Boxing Program: A short pamphlet with seven different exercises to help a reader improve their physical strength. These techniques do not require equipment or a partner and seems to be aimed at those who travel frequently or lack the financial resources of more seasoned brawlers.

A pocket instruction manual depicting bizarre fighting stances of leaping, spinning and holding weapons by the wrong end.

An aged inquisitor’s handbook whose yellow pages are held between the heavy silver covers. The pages hold anatomy diagrams of various demons along with instructions on dispatching them.

A large, heavy book bound in scarlet leather. Inside it lists and illustrates all the common planar beings along with their reward preferences and favoured negotiation styles. It would be extremely useful for summoners who routinely call forth and bind or ally themselves with planar creatures.    

Dark Secrets Revealed by the Opening Eye: A book of unintelligible prophecies spoken by a mystic from the Roof of the World Mountains and written down by one of her disciples. The visionary text is covered in a yak pelt.

Law and Duty: A book of morality bound in purple leather with two clasped hands in gold leaf on the front cover. The text outlines the rules and behaviours for the faithful followers of Conn the Lawgiver.

Travels in the Southern Lands: A book bound in black leather embossed with gold merchant’s scales. The text is a travelogue with detailed maps of trade routes and information on foreign markets written by noted explorer and merchant Gosten Almar.

The Courage of Sir Ector: A book bound in red leather with gold tooling and edges. Written by Vinek Bezmer the text is the illuminated life story of the famous paladin.

An illustrated manual covered in chainmail entitled “Beginner’s Guide to Polearm Fighting”.

Dangerous Beasts of Kjarran: A bestiary bound in krenshar fur and held closed with clasp made from its teeth. The text focuses on monsters who commonly manifest supernatural abilities.

Wyrms of the Northlands: A tome bound in white dragonskin with a black ribbon marker with wyrmling talon dangling on the end. It is an illustrated who’s who of notorious dragons.

A thaumaturgist’s grimoire bound in green demonskin and marked with eldritch symbols. It contains the true names of certain minor demons and the arcane instructions on how to contact other planes, dismissing outsiders and binding lesser demons.

An elvish lexicon with a green velvet cover with mithral tooling and inlaid gemstone cover.

Fists of Iron: A martial arts treatise with copious illustrations, handwritten on a very long scroll written by Leaping Mantis.

A sea-green paperback novel with gold lettering entitled “The Trench”. The illustrated manuscript, tells tall tales of a mighty Triton ruler and his exploits beneath the waves.

A small red volume, that looks like it was mass produced with cheap printing methods. Entitled “The Little Tome Of Charms” the books content is a series of worthless nonsense spells that wouldn’t be useful even if they worked in the first place.

A small leather case with gold trimmings. The case protects a small deck of cards which bear sumptuous illustrations of various humanoid creatures engaged in lewd acts. The face cards of the suits move slightly and the jokers wink at you when you look through the cards.

A small book, very thick but only as wide as a grown adult’s hand. It is simply bound and filled with esoteric philosophy and explanations of the movements of the heavens, in complex verse.

A small brown book, no larger than a man’s hand but as thick as a wrist, with the word “Ecchli” on the cover. The pages are filled with tiny, unreadable words tightly compacted together. There is an aura of knowledge about the book, but it is also clear that great effort will be required to unlock its secrets.

Anzil and Lightning: A stone bound tome of Dwarvish history, written in the stoutfolk’s native tongue. The book explains about the formation of the Dwarven Kingdom and the differences between the various Dwarvenkin.

A black leather notebook filled with half-finished poems.

A blank book that when written in, causes the words to be spoken out loud.

A long book full of elven advice, most of which amounts to “stay the course and outlive the problem”.

A bundle of religious texts consisting of thick ivory parchments wound onto black bronze scroll rods tipped with golden ferrules studded with amber and coral, all tied with scarlet ribbons. All of the topics address the divine concept of Random Domain in one way or another.

The Necronomicon: An eerie book wrapped in a rough leather, akin to human skin. The front of the tome even has a stretched human-like face on it, warped in an expression of eternal horror. Inside its pages, are illustrations of fiendish monsters, impossible aberrations and disgusting warpings of flesh and bone. Its contents are filled with incantations, ramblings and grave warnings. While a chronicle of dark things witnessed by the author, the tome itself has a dark surprise; it’s very much alive...

A small spellbook, which is little more than a collection of pages bound with willow bark. It a handful of pages are covered in rituals and notations in no known language and bearers who have it in their possession, swear it whispers from time to time, as quiet as wind rustling a willow-tree.

A recipe book filled with numerous ways to prepare the flesh and organs of various species, focusing on children and adolescents. Additional notes in a newer hand remark on changes to each recipe.

The Tome of Strahd: A book bound in a thick leather cover with steel hinges and fastenings containing brittle parchment pages. The tome is an ancient work penned by Strahd von Zarovich, the vampiric dark lord of the valley of Barovia and is the tragic tale of how he came to his fallen state. Most of the book is written in the curious shorthand that only Strahd employs. Stains and age have made most of the work illegible, but several paragraphs remain intact.

A small travel diary with a memoir that tells the story of a terrible storm that lasted for a week. It was written by the youngest cabin boy aboard the vessel and is heavily water-damaged.

A ship's log describing a slow descent into madness by the crew.

A book with several self-portraits of one of the PC's that they don't remember making.

A book of dried flowers with botanical information about them. Each time it is opened, the book smells of a different flower inside.

A large bundle of rough thick pages held together by reindeer sinew. They describe edible parts of beats found in artic climate.  

A tiny book made of exquisite porcelain reliefs, bound in thick quilted padded.

Enchiridion of the Unusual: A book whose cover is blood red, the title in silver its only ornamentation. No gilt, no gold leaf, just simple sturdy paper bound with thread. The pages, however, are a wonder: arcane formulae and diagrams in a dozen unrecognizable languages. It is a spellbook. It is a laboratory log. It is a treatise on war machines. It is a study on dragons. And a dissertation on a dozen other unimaginable things.

The Complete Draconic Lexicon: A sizable dictionary is for the Draconic language including detailed etymology, all written in flourishing script. A creature that can read Common may communicate with a creature in draconic using this book at a rate of one word per minute, even if they spoke no draconic at all.

A tattered, pocket sized travel notebook, binding a collection of withered and illegible pages. A thorough investigation will reveal a single line of unmarred text near the back of the book that reads “The king has demanded eternal life, though I doubt he is willing to accept the toll of blood and earth it demands.”

The Pattern Of The Ages: An oddly compelling tome outlining a dualistic world between two warring deities. Its descriptions of magic are highly elemental and it suggests a cyclical pattern to history. It warns of thirteen powerful servants of the evil deity from a more advanced era who are sealed away and must not be released. Could this be accurate, or is it just a fantasy?

A battered leather cover journal that rejects any ink; only fiendish ichor seems to seep into the pages.

A beginners guidebook to vile necromancy and enchantment spells entitled “How to make friends and influence people”

The Utterings of Hermaeus the Wise: A bound collection of the "words" eschewed by the late wizard Hermaeus the Wise, collected by his former apprentice. At the time, Hermaeus had attempted to gaze deep into the heart of the Elemental Chaos, to gain wisdom and insight into the nature of the universe. Unfortunately, Hermaeus' mind quickly unraveled at the sight of the place, and though his apprentice attempted to save him, the wizard died shortly after the attempt. It's said that the text is, to the apprentice's best efforts, a copy of the exact sounds that Hermaeus produced (Though few could be realistically interpreted as spoken language of any kind), with some pictograms indicating the movements of the wizard's body as he made these sounds. Strangely, readers of this text have described odd phenomena during and after reading: text that seemed to move and shift as they read it, odd voices that could be heard up to several days after completing the reading, sudden and strange desires to do odd things such as attack a companion or develop various phobias and compulsions.

Final Dawn: A small journal containing a long-forgotten cult leader's teachings on beginning and maintaining your own cult. Extremely knowledgeable PC’s can discern that the book was actually written by an arch-devil who is using hidden tactics to get an unsuspecting reader to summon him into the material plane.

A Mind is a Terrible thing to Waste: A tome dedicated to using the brains of intelligent creatures in various magical applications, mainly detailing Golemancy and Alchemy. It details using various necromancy spells to resurrect just the brain, and incorporating it into creating magical golems or mechanical constructs. Depending on the spells used the golem could be smarter and more autonomous, even in some cases having the capacity to grow a personality. Or the mage can create a golem that acts like a feral undead, killing any living thing it comes across.

The Writings Of Theon Ganderson: A small black journal kept by a man who claimed to have spotted a “thing” living under his farm house. This “thing” turned out to be a small elder being that began eating Theon's livestock. The journal ends abruptly during a passage where Theon is describing hearing something underneath his bedroom floorboards.

The Koraktor: A heavy tome bound in unfamiliar leather. It describes a dark ritual that allows the sacrifice of an intelligent being to have its remaining lifespan transferred to you. The catch is, that with each use, the effect is halved; the second sacrifice gives half its lifespan, the third gives a quarter and so on.

Nature's Wrath: A tome written by a powerful ancient druid that was angered by civilization and its disrespect of nature. It contains dozens of powerful rituals for summoning deadly natural disasters, including plagues, earthquakes, tsunamis and hurricanes.

The Howling: A journal bound in skin of a deer, the yellowed parchment pages contain page upon page of handwritten unintelligible script. The book is said to have been in the position of a Wendigo for several decades before coming to rest in Blackoak Restorative Manor for the Mental Infirm. The only legible content within the book is a series of signatures on the back page; believed to have been former owners of the volume. To date, every owner of the book has either died of starvation, regardless of financial means or physical health. Or has descended into the depths of animal savagery and cannibalism. Some anecdotal records at Blackoak from patient interviews suggest the book contains the last rational thoughts of all its previous owners. However, as these testimonies come from individuals who would go on to own the volume themselves or succumb to the harsh nature of their treatments; they are discredited among learned individuals.

Bargains of the Underworld: A mysterious memoir whose crimson cover is unnaturally cold. It is a recording of the author's descent into madness after murdering his family and his journey into the plane of the dead to plead their forgiveness. It contains locations of planar portals, and describes ways to communicate with the dead.

Zahhak: A journal written by the famous explorer Zhelim Alasam, documenting his experiences of his last journey. It starts off as all of his journals, but quickly escalates as Zhelims ship sinks in a storm and he is stranded on an unknown island. Through his writings, the reader learns how Zhelim found strange ruins on this island and his curiosity takes over. For several days, he wanders these strange alien halls, describing murals, architecture and an unknown language chiseled into the walls. The last page documents Zhelims growing fear of the darkness and voices in his head that tell him to go deeper into the ruins...

Der Abenteurer: A highly controversial exploration of power and hierarchy, heavy with economics and philosophy. The book posits that the contemporary societal structure of roving adventurers questing for artifacts, slaying everything in their path, is a degenerate state that perpetuates an unfair system of oppression. It urges monsters, brigands, and all creators of loot to rise up, move beyond boundaries of species, and present a unified front against those that wish to plunder their lairs.

The Assassin's Textbook: A book filled with firsthand accounts of successful high-profile assassinations. Each entry places heavy focus on preparation and planning, and was written by the assassin who did the deed. There are numerous blank pages at the end of the book, and a note on the inside cover demands that the reader must write down their own story if they succeed in killing someone, then hide the book in a public location at night. The first several entries were written by the same person using the pen name 'Splattershrike.' Knowlegeable PC's have heard speculations that Splattershrike collects and reads any used copies of the book and makes new editions of it to include his favorite additions.

A book written by Pepeq Gufgord, a necromancer of some renown entitled “Loving Return”. The binding is pale green with black lettering and an embossed cartoonish skull in the center of the cover. Inside this book is a tale in the style of a children's story about losing a loved one and how to bring them back from beyond the grave. Disturbingly the book gives a fully functional process of ritually summoning an undead with such ease that a child may perform it with little difficulty.

The Convergent Truth: A ironbound book containing a detailed explanation about why the plane you are in right now is a demi-plane, an exact copy of the material plane, used to lure something called The Devourer away from the true material plane. In the back of the book are commendations to this reality, each from a different volume of this book. This one is Volume VIIICMVII.

The Material Era: A book that, starting from explaining in excruciating detail the mechanism behind spells like Dispel Magic and Antimagic Field, starts studying in what way magic can be stopped from interfering with the world, like stripping a caster from its power, creating zones of dead magic and finally showing how one could stop all magic from existing in the whole Material Plane, forever, enjoying in the hypothetical consequences of this actions.

Treatise of Abyssal Lore: A large book made from the skin of hundreds of humanoid hides from across the multiverse. The words are penned in sanguine ink that constantly shifts and swirls, making it extremely difficult to comprehend. Highly intelligent readers are able to decipher the cryptic language and learn a great deal of information about the different species of demons.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Toontown: Corporate Clash Recap: The Estate

Let me start by listing off the friend request rejections generic Cogs will make, as you requested:

“[Cog] says, "We’re just not meant to be, Toon.”

“[Cog] says, "I’ll bring it up in the next meeting.”

“[Cog] says, "I’d rather volunteer to visit the chop shop.”

“[Cog] stares blankly at you: "No.”

“[Cog] says, "We both know there are no good intentions here, Toon.”

“[Cog] looks at you, mumbles some Cog-like words, and resumes its activities.

”[Cog] says, “Get some real friends, Toon.”

“[Cog] says, "Hand over your gags and laff and we have a deal.”

“[Cog] says, "I’m not looking for anything more serious than what we already have.”

“[Cog] said yes! …Not really though, unfortunately…”

“[Cog] points to their watch, saying, "I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

Additionally, I forgot to mention that Cogs have visual indicators for how much health they have separate from the battle interface. Their badge that starts out depicting their department symbol (Bar Graph for Sellbots, Dollar Sign for Cashbots, Gavel for Lawbots, Tie for Bossbots, and a “Stonks Arrow” I can’t remember the actual name of for the Boardbots) turns into a light that indicates how much HP a Cog has left. Green is healthy, yellow is injured, orange is very injured, red is critical condition, and flashing red is almost destroyed. There are two other light colors specific to certain boss encounters.

Also, I forgot to mention this: If you leave a Club you’re the owner of, ownership automatically transfers to the next highest ranked, most senior member, so the only way to disband a Club is to leave when you’re the only member. Club names, much like Toon names, don’t have to be unique.

But now, for the Estate.

Your Toon’s Estate can be accessed at any point via the “Go Home” button or using the /home command in your chatbox.

Every account has an Estate attached to it, and each estate has 6 houses (1 for every Toon you can make). The houses are color coded to the Pick a Toon panels. There are Ice Cream Bars that restore 2 Laff when picked up, but Toons don’t passively regain HP.

You can visit another Toon’s Estate if they’re on your friends list, or one of your friends is visiting their friend’s Estate, since you can TP to them via the “Go to” button on their Profile.

Estates have mailboxes in front of them, when you have an item in the mail, the flag will be up. You can delete items in your mailbox, but there’s really no point to it.

Your Toon’s house is customizable. When in your house, the attic button is available, allowing you to move furniture from the attic and onto your house to display them.

There are two special furniture items: An old-timey telephone (as in, REALLY old timey. Think like the EARLIEST phone model, where you had to hold those bell-looking things up to your mouth and ear to use them). The other is your Jellybean bank, looking like one of those candy dispenser machines with the glass bowl on top, with a decorative piggy bank pig being placed on top of the “lid”.

If you collect any Jellybeans while your jar is full, they’ll spill over into your Jellybean Bank. If any Jellybeans spill over into your bank when IT is full, they’re lost. As such, you’ll want to go and purchase larger Jellybean Banks every now and again to make sure you’re not losing Jellybeans.

To do this, you can use the “Cattlelog” (formerly known as “Clarabelle’s Cattlelog” back in the Disney’s Toontown Online days. Yes, it’s spelled like that because it’s SUPPOSED to be a pun, but since Clarabelle was removed to avoid invoking Disney’s wrath, and the change-logs call it the “Catalog”, I’m guessing they just never got around to correcting the in-game spelling), to order an upgrade to your Jellybean Bank. The bigger Bank will automatically replace the one in your house when you remove it from your Mailbox, with all of your Beans from the old one getting poured into the new one.

The largest Jellybean Bank can hold 100,000 Beans.

You can also order new chat phrases, clothing, accessories, furniture, window views, wallpapers, carpets, posters, and other decorative items.

The Cattlelog has two categories: “New” and “Backorder”.

“New” items hold newly available items in your Cattlelog and Seasonal Items, while “Backorder” holds select Estate Items, Emotions, and Jellybean Banks from previous issues.

Backorder items are more expensive than new items.

You receive a new Cattlelog Issue whenever you log in at least week after you received your last issue. It CAN arrive partway through a play session, but it’s designed this way so you don’t have to worry about “missing” an issue.

There are 7 series, each one with 13 issues, with the exception of Series 5, which only has 5 issues. After Series 7 Issue 13, the game cycles back to Series 1 Issue 1.

You get Achievements for purchasing 1 item from the Cattlelog, purchasing 10 items from the Cattlelog, purchasing 50 items from the Cattlelog, and purchasing 100 items from the Cattlelog.

Also, each Estate has a Fishing Pond and Picnic Tables, meaning you can play Picnic Games (same as the Minigame Area Picnic Games) and go fishing here. However, you CANNOT make groups in your Estate (not even PRIVATE Groups, for some reason), so you’ll have to invite your friends over via whisper if you want go fishing or play Picnic Games with them. The Estate pond has special fish species that CAN’T be found anywhere else in Toontown.

Also, you an swim in the river that goes through your estate AND in your fishing pond, as it is one of the few bodies fo water in the game that are deep enough for you to swim in.

And I believe that’s everything that can be said about Estates. What’d you like to hear about next?

Trolley Games

Minigame Area

Estate

Fishing

Cogs and Buildings

Social Activity

G.U.M.B.A.L.L. Machine

Toon Levels

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Oh I love the wordplay. ‘Cattlelog’.

Hm. Let’s roll with levels next!