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imhereformysciencefriends · 1 year ago

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Blow this popcicle stand

My gift for @missycolorful for the @technoblade-gift-exchange

Read on AO3 here!

I had a total blast writing this! I hope you enjoy as well. I admit I kinda smushed together a couple of your prompts, but I am very happy with the result. Enjoy! <3

Phil was, historically, better at the talking-to-people thing. Not necessarily the being-reasonable thing, Techno did often have to sit in on all of Phil’s meetings in order to prevent unnecessary bloodshed due to, quote, “it’d be funny, mate,” unquote. But talking to people, talking was something Phil could and did do. Techno? Not so much. He didn’t, he didn’t really care for it, you know. Wasn’t really his forte.

But Phil was busy in a month-long series of meetings negotiating a new peace agreement with a nation that wanted regular access to the moon portal (financially a very good move for the Empire, logistically a nightmare). And while Techno would really prefer to be in those, both to have a comprehensive set of expectations for what would be happening in the future and to keep an eye on his partner, it wasn’t the only nation that wanted the Empire’s attention.

And Techno was, if not suited, at the very least capable of trade negotiations with one of their friendlier allies.

Even if he hated the idea.

His thick, heavy, fur-necked cape moved with his arms as he pulled his long hair back into a ponytail, the sound of his hooves ringing out against the arctic stone rather slowly as he approached the meeting room. Almost like he was dragging his feet. But jokes on you, Chat, Techno didn’t have feet to drag! So clearly he was getting there at a very reasonable pace. And wasn’t stalling. No chance of that, not with him, haha, nope!

Despite it being his literal actual destination, Techno found himself surprised when he was suddenly in front of the meeting room door. Who authorized this? Ninja doors, sittin’ around jumpscaring good hardworking emperors. Probably Phil, the weeb. Actually, Techno should try to remember this bit for later, he was sure Phil would love the notion of a ninja door. Get a good laugh outta that one.

Focus. He did still have to, you know, open the door. Have the pre-scheduled and entirely-foreseen meeting that would take place behind it.

Was that the alarm bell he heard? Off in the distance? Wayyyyy far away in the distance? No? Just him then? Alright.

No, Chat, he wasn’t stalling. He was just securing the perimeter with his superior hearing before engaging with outside forces. Yes he had superior hearing, look at the pink shell of his ears, sticking out of his face like that. What, no, he was not a bishounen, Chat, under no circumstances was anyone allowed to call him that. Honestly, the ideas that Chat got in their heads, smh.

Okay! Okay! He wasn’t stalling! He was opening the door now!

Inside the meeting room was the Essempi convoy, its three main representatives seated on the couch that faced the massive armchair Techno took. Next to his was a significantly smaller armchair, specifically designed to accommodate a man’s wings.

Not for nothing, Techno wished Phil was here.

“Welcome to the Empire,” he started, because that sounded most appropriate. Already, the back of his neck felt hot and damp with sweat. That’s why he put his hair up, he supposed.

“Thank you for having us,” replied the woman in the middle, leaning forward across the low table to extend her hand. Shoot, handshakes, should he have done that before he sat down? Did Phil normally do that? Techno was suddenly blanking on any social interaction he’d ever had prior to this one in his life.

Her hand was firm, warm, and had shallow calluses. The strong grip of a woman who worked and wasn’t intimidated by Techno in the slightest. Would it be easier for him if she was intimidated? More importantly, had Techno met her before? Her voice seemed… familiar. Ish. Familiarish.

Niki! That’s Nihachu Her name is Nikki, you’ve met her before Niki! Nikki? I never know which it is

“Uh, Niki, is it?”

She laughed, and it wasn’t a mean sound. Techno felt his face heating up anyway. “You remembered!” The look on her face wasn’t pity, nor offense, but she gave off the impression of being very knowing of what was going on in Techno’s brain, “My hair was brown last time we met, with the blonde in the front.”

Oh! Okay, yes, Techno could place her now. She’d been invited to the same weird political shindig festival party thing that Phil had dragged him to.

“Nice to see you again,” he said, a little more sincerely. And a touch relieved.

“You as well,” she said warmly, then gestured to the woman to her right. Er, well, to her left, Techno’s right—didn’t matter. “This is Captain Puffy, she’s a state-sponsored merchant we’ve been working closely with. She’s interested to see if she’d be a good match for this route, depending on what we work out.”

“Yo!”

Captain Puffy was an extremely short woman (maybe even shorter than Phil), though far from petite. Her big curling hair and big curling ram horns and big sunglasses and big captain’s coat all spoke to a relatively large personality, and the big smile she flashed him did not actually help settle Techno’s nerves. Maybe he should’ve had some tea or something before all this. She was also slouching, leaned against the arm of the couch with all the debonair swagger of a woman entirely at ease around important people. As an emperor of one of the world’s fastest growing empires, Techno could probably stand to take a page from her book.

Whose idea had it been to put him in charge, again? Oh right, his.

Gesturing to her other side, Niki continued, “And this is Ranboo. He’s something between a pupil and a little brother, to me; he’s mostly just here for this to be a learning experience.”

As short as the captain was, Ranboo was tall. Wraith-thin with too-big eyes and an air about him that seemed even more nervous than Techno felt. Techno at least had his flat affect and “monotone” voice (he still didn’t get that, but enough people had told him that he had a monotone by now that he just accepted it) to act as buffer. This kid (and Techno got a very strong impression that he was young, despite not knowing much about Ender ages (well, maybe he knew more than most, given the Empire’s plot-relevant access to the moon)) wasn’t so much as wearing his heart on his sleeve as he was stringing it up on a chandelier.

“Nice to meet you both,” Techno said, the captain giving him a lazy salute and Ranboo nodding so stiffly it looked like his neck might snap.

“Shall we get straight to it, then?” Niki asked, and Techno nodded, so incredibly thankful that someone else was comfortable taking charge of a conversation.

And then they sank blissfully into the thing that was Techno’s strong suit: his stuff. Techno had a good head for what items were worth, and while he wasn’t the most organized person (he had goons for that) he absolutely knew how much he had of what, and what the Empire could afford to spare in trading efforts, provided they received what they were promised in return. Now, storms could sink even the most experienced ships, and fleets could get blown off course, so he had to factor in wiggle room and contingency plans as well.

Another strong suit. Techno was a beast at contingency plans. Nobody could plan a contingency plan like Techno planned his plans.

The deeper they got into the numbers game and talk of resources, the more Techno chilled out. This wasn’t socializing, not really. He was mostly just indulging in his inventory vices while other people were in the room.

Something Essempi had in plenty that the Empire desperately needed was food. More specifically: vegetation. They had their arctic, thick-furred cows, their fluffy chickens, their heavy-hided boars, their densely-wooled sheep, and their round the clock fisheries. Nothing would breed too close to the moon portal, but here at the castle their herds and flocks were thriving just fine. But plants? That took underground greenhouses with low ceilings and constant torchlight to do anything. And a growing empire was a hungry thing: greenhouses alone weren’t going to be sustainable. Not long term.

Techno had his reservations about putting too much faith in their allies. A resource as important as food needed more than one source.

But. Techno’s reservations wouldn’t spontaneously feed everybody, and Essempi had been friendly and amicable all through negotiations. All things considered, they were probably the closest and most trustworthy ally the Empire had.

And their representatives didn’t make Techno want to melt into a puddle or stab anybody! So. Points all around in their favor. Niki did most of the talking, her voice soft and cheery, clearly the most familiar with Essempi resources and used to political negotiations. The captain would chime in mostly around the actual act of trade itself, naval logs and star charts and detailed maps crowding her end of the low table. Ranboo, as Niki mentioned, didn’t say… anything at all, the whole meeting. He just sat, straight-spined enough to put the strictest governess to shame and making eye contact with nobody, scratching notes into a book he’d brought.

Essempi was offering them good deals. More than fair, if Techno was being entirely honest. And he knew he didn’t have any personal charm to thank for that. He filed that away for future reference. Either Essempi was even more well off than rumors suspected, or there would come a day when they asked the Empire to pay back their generosity (likely with swords and soldiers, if the history books held any credence).

But that was fine. In the now, they were offering lucrative details for necessary resources. (In the future, Phil would need enrichment anyway (Techno, too, he did love a good fight)). Techno would still probably want to set up a couple additional trade agreements with other nations, just in case, just to cover all his bases. And the greenhouses obviously weren’t going anywhere, Techno would not be sacrificing even an ounce of pre-established self-sufficiency.

But even Techno, of all people, had to admit that he was feeling pretty optimistic by the time they all stood and shook hands in parting. He remembered to shake Puffy’s and Ranboo’s this time, Puffy’s hand tiny and grip strong, Ranboo’s slender fingers still faintly trembling with nerves but his smile seeming at the very least half-genuine.

Woof. Ough. His back. The time! The sun set early here, but he was still surprised to see that it had sunk below the horizon while he was squirreled away looking at documents and maps and an antique abacus. His staff seemed to agree, yawning and musing over dinner plans as the two groups dispersed, the Essempi convoy headed towards the guest quarters and Techno and his officials wandering further inwards of the castle.

“Well done in there, Your Majesty!” praised one of Techno’s staff while he wasn’t looking, and he was too embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t quite managed to catch who was talking, so he just raised a hand and gave a vague “Ayup” before leaving quickly. Much quicker than he had arrived, as it happened. So interesting, that things worked out like that.

“Busy day?” Phil asked as the door to the royal quarters clicked shut. Techno sighed heavily and let his head thunk back against the heavy wood. Phil, the intolerable jerk, giggled at him.

“Why weren’t you the one handling that again?”

“Because the little stunt we pulled was just a biiiiiit too successful,” Phil reminded with another chuckle, and Techno groaned as he shoved off the door.

It had been a gambit, but as a fledgling nation the Antarctic Empire had needed to gain the attention of the rest of the world, and gain their attention they had. An extremely brief, brutal, there-then-gone conquest that had left the vast majority of the world temporarily under the Empire’s claim. It served two purposes, each a message:

Do not, under any circumstances, make enemies of the Empire.

Probably a good idea to play nice and make friends, though.

Most of the world had taken the first message very much to heart, and the testing nudges they’d been making abruptly vanished. Some nations, like Essempi, had quickly jumped to playing nice, eager to make powerful allies (and perhaps just as eager to make sure they didn’t have a powerful enemy).

A couple nations had taken message number one as a challenge, and readied warships with bloodied thirst.

Not that the Empire couldn’t handle a bit of… rough play, but it did mean that after squashing attempts at overthrowing or subjugating them, Phil got saddled with miles of paperwork establishing the enemy’s surrender and the Empire’s new normal.

“I thought you were meeting with the guys who wanted moon access today?” Techno asked as he approached. Phil’d had dinner brought to their rooms, as they did most nights when they weren’t expected to make an appearance, and Techno let into the meat and eggs with gusto.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight was more surrender talk.”

“So that’s why you double booked us. You wanted ‘em alone in a room with you.”

Phil giggled, waggling his fingers so as to make a show of his talons.

Techno gave a very half-hearted kick to his shin. Quarter-hearted. Maybe even sixth-hearted. Phil cackled at him.

“Can’t let you outta my sight for ten minutes,” Techno groused around a mouthful of chicken. Phil popped a handful of red berries into his mouth (some of the only vegetation that could be grown outside of the greenhouses), and he looked altogether too smug.

“How’re things with Essempi going? Off to a running start?”

“Actually? Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“I like the representative they sent over, Niki, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, and so far they’ve been fair, if not generous.” Techno gave his partner a meaningful glance. “We should probably expect a request for military aid, sometime in the future.”

Phil shrugged, entirely unfazed. “We’ve always known that’s a possibility. And we’re not exactly hurting for it.”

“Figured as much.” Techno lifted his plate to slide the eggs into his open mouth, the fork method far too slow. “Honestly don’t think this deal is gonna take too long to finalize. Week, probably?”

“For you? That’s a goddamn miracle, mate.”

Techno snorted. “I know, right? She’s got a pupil along with her, skinny guy named Ranboo. Showin’ him the ropes.”

Phil spluttered a laugh. “And she chose you for a practice round!?”

“I know right? Like, c’mon, cut the guy some slack. He looked ready to shake out of his skin. Don’t just throw him off the deep end chanting ‘blood for the blood god’ like there’s gotta be less intimidatin’ guys than me out there.”

Phil giggled and Techno continued, “Brought a ship captain too, Puffy, shorter than you and louder. She’s been a good help settin’ realistic expectations, but I dunno how involved she’s gonna be in the rest of our meetings.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty good handle on it, mate. Good for you, good for you.”

Techno snorted. “Never thought we’d see the day.”

“Aww, I knew you could do it.” Techno cast him yet another look. He giggled. “Eventually.”

Techno guffawed and set his plate down, dropping his head back. By the Blood God, he felt tired.

“Well,” Phil continued, stretching his arms above his head and his wings out to each side, “nobody got attacked and no emergencies happened, so I’ll call this day a win.”

“Ah, but I did get attacked,” Techno said with a raised finger, remembering his joke from earlier.

“Oh?” Phil asked, with all the sharp-eyed curiosity of a man who knew a punchline was coming, but was trying to tell where from.

Techno heaved his head back up. “In the halls of our own very castle. I was caught off-guard—very brutally, I should add—by a ninja door.”

Phil broke immediately into cackles.

“Snuck up on me while I was just innocently walkin’ down the hall, Phil. Never would’ve expected it. One of our own doors. The betrayal was immense.”

“whAT?” Phil giggle-shouted, his feathers poofing and his shoulders shaking.

“I was just mindin’ my own business when bam! Suddenly the door was right there. Scared the life out of me. Don’t worry, Phil, I showed it who was boss. I twisted that handle like I was born for it.”

Phil was now laughing so hard tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

Techno grinned, warmth glowing in the center of his chest. Truthfully, it probably wasn’t that funny of a joke, but the combination of fatigue, the subject being unexpected, and Phil being an easy audience made it sound like ninja doors were the funniest thing in the whole world.

The night was still young, but Techno was utterly drained from the day of talking (and tomorrow would be much the same) so he called it an early night. Phil, equally tired from twisting arms into surrender (and maybe getting to play a little mean with his talons, who knew. Not Techno! Techno hadn’t been there to reel him in!) was more than happy to agree.

This far south, sleeping in your own bed was about as smart as wandering the town naked. Too much warmth leached out that way. It was only sensible that family members shared a bed together, with drapes around the edges to keep the air captive.

Techno had no family to speak of, except the one, so the two emperors dressed for the night and crawled in together, Phil’s top wing spread out over them like an added blanket and his icy little feet pressed up against Techno’s leg.

“Why are you always an ice cube?” Techno groused, gathering his friend in his arms.

“Shhhh, you’re just a friggin’ blast furnace, mate. Go to sleep.”

Techno huffed, breath stirring Phi’s hair and making him chuckle, then nuzzled down into the blankets and his companion, wishing he could hibernate the day off. Blood God himself, he was tired.

But wake the next morning he did, and the next, and the next after that. Essempi eventually embarked for their home, along with the first shipment of goods from the Empire. More countries entered peace treaties with them, or at the very least non-aggression pacts, particularly as more nations fell to the Antarctic Empire’s might. Trade was good, their people sleeping with full bellies and a more or less nutritionally balanced diet. The Empire produced plenty of coal, in its cavernous depths, and many nations of warmer climates had want for the ice they so easily chiseled up from around them.

Things were good.

Techno was getting… better, about the whole talking to people thing. After the first few days, Ranboo had started speaking, and Techno had found a kindred spirit in him. The two now exchanged regular correspondence. Mostly about books, but sometimes they’d share personal stories or gossip (apparently Captain Puffy was working very closely with a certain someone, indeed). Meetings were no longer torments summoned directly from hell (not that Techno liked them, but Techno was pretty sure he was never actually going to like meetings (honestly, he was pretty sure nobody did)). He and Phil were getting a pretty good handle on this whole, “being emperors” thing.

That said, politically motivated social functions were still the worst. But Essempi was, to date, still their closest and friendliest ally, and Techno knew enough about court niceties by now to know that regardless of how much he might’ve wanted to, he and Phil could not turn down their invitation to a ball.

“What even is the point of balls,” Techno groused as he examined the flimsy nothings the tailor had made for him to wear there. Too thin of a material, not nearly enough fur around his neck, he’d freeze to death in this in an instant. He… did like the gold bits, though. He’d conceded on that. And the jewelry. Those parts were nice. The rest of it was like walking around in wet paper, though.

“Maintaining positive social ties with political figures we’ve already established with and makin’ new friends with new people at a designated function for doing so—”

“I was bein’ sarcastic, Phil,” Techno cut off the overly-formal lecture, making Phil cackle. “It’s called a rhetorical question, Phil, ever heard of it?”

“Can’t say I have, mate,” Phil lied with a giggle.

“A rhetorical question is a—” Techno started, overly-formal lecture of his own primed and at the ready, and Phil swatted him with a big black wing, setting them both to laughing.

The boat ride to Essempi went about as well as anticipated. Phil flitted about, happily assisting with the crow’s nest and upper rigging, and Techno spent about half of it bent over the railing, the other half desperately attempting to coax water and ginger teas into his stomach that he didn’t immediately upend.

“We should build a land bridge,” Techno groused when his friend came over to both hydrate and mock him.

Phil, predictably, laughed, “Mate, I don’t know if even we mine up enough stone for that,” he said as he passed a water flask over. Techno swished it around his mouth and spit, trying to rid himself of the now everpresent taste of bile, then sipped slowly and delicately, his stomach groaning pathetically and churning at even that.

“Then we’re building flying machines and we’re taking those. Planes, blimps, hot air balloons, I don’t care, this is the last trip I sail anywhere.”

“Blimp’s not a bad idea,” Phil mused as Techno shut his eyes, bracing himself against the railing with renewed force and willing the nausea to pass him over without taking his water with it. “It’d be more regal and dignified than staggerin’ off a boat dehydrated and starved and swaying.”

“Gonna punch you for that.”

“Are you now?” he asked with a giggle.

“Ayup. Just give me three to five business days to get off this railing and then it’s over for you. It’s so over for you.”

More laughter. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Well, I’m off to go perch in the crow’s nest again, have fun pukin’ your guts out.”

“Death. Death and violence.”

His friend’s retreating laughter left him and he stewed in abject misery for the rest of the trip. By the time they hit land and Techno was able to collapse into a bed that wasn’t swaying every which way, he was even looking forward to the party, since it meant not being on the boat.

The flimsy cheesecloth the tailor had prepared for him made more sense in this warmer climate, and now that he wasn’t being a stubborn child about it he had to admit: he cleaned up good. Deep red and gold and black, Phil his match but green, they were striking, appearing wealthy and deadly and even, somehow, regal.

Despite, y’know, it being the two of them.

The party goers were respectful, nobody jumping at the chance to speak with the Antarctic emperors but no one intentionally snubbing them either, and Techno mostly just had to loom behind Phil with a ridiculously shatterable little wine flute pinched delicately between his fingers and listen. Answer the occasional polite question that was directed his way, make sure Phil didn’t get too excited at any perceived slight, it was almost even normal.

He was at the food table, piling high a plate he intended to share with his co-emperor, when he heard a familiar, boisterous voice.

“Emperor Technoblade!”

“Captain,” he greeted, turning to her. She extended her drinking glass, and he gently clinked his against it. “They’re lettin’ riffraff like you in here?”

Puffy barked a sharp laugh, loud and unabashed. “I’m a plus one.”

“Oh?” Techno raised an eyebrow. “You and Niki official, then?”

Puffy squinted. “And how exactly do you know about that?”

Techno smirked behind the rim of his glass. “I have informants everywhere.”

Puffy laughed, once again boisterous and booming, and landed a playful punch just barely above Techno’s elbow. Haha why are you so short.jpeg. Oh c’mon Chat that joke is not old that’s still peak comedy right there.

“Man, I can’t believe everyone’s so intimidated by you.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw me in a fight,” Techno countered, amused.

“And you wouldn’t say that if you saw me in one, blood boy!”

Techno arched an eyebrow. “Blood boy,” that was a new one. In their trade with Essempi, Techno and Phil had gotten to know the sea captain a little better each time she was in their port, and she’d taken to treating them with the same friendly irreverence she spoke to everyone with.

Techno set his plate down on the edge of the table, largely crowded out by the serving dishes but finding just enough space for it to not go falling over. Intentionally, he loomed over her, his impressive height casting her fully in shadow, and let himself grin.

“Careful, Captain. It’s not smart to threaten me with a good time.”

As tolerable as the party was thus far, Techno would be lying if he said he wouldn’t ditch in half a heartbeat to go screw around. And after the miserable journey here, a good friendly sparring match with a spunky lady sounded like even more fun than usual.

Puffy rocked up on her hooves, and even on the tips while Techno was stooping down she couldn’t really get “in” his face but he understood the gesture. His grin widened. It matched her own.

“What’s the matter, big boy, don’t think you could take me?”

“Miss Puffy, um, you promised Miss Niki you wouldn’t cause a scene,” came a timid voice from nearby, and both Techno and Captain Puffy perked.

“Ranboo,” Techno greeted, scooping up his plate of food and crossing the distance to his young friend.

“Hello, Emperor Technoblade, it’s nice to see you, please don’t encourage her.”

“Good to see you too,” Techno said warmly, meaning it. Through their letters, Techno had come to regard the young Enderian as a good friend.

Puffy gasped as she trotted over, and shoved right up into Ranboo’s space. “Are you the nark?”

“Um,” Ranboo said, backing slowly away only to be further crowded by a sheep woman half his height, clearly confused, “no?”

“Yeah, Captain, what’s with this baseless accusation you’re makin’ against my good pal Ranboo?”

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own girlfriend’s tagalong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about??”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Techno said, slinging an arm over Ranboo’s shoulders and nearly bowling the guy over with its weight. Techno had seen bamboo shoots with more structural integrity, smh.

“E-either way, please do not help Miss Puffy make a scene. Miss Niki specifically instructed her not to do that.”

“Guess we’ll just have to go somewhere there’s nobody else around,” Puffy said, still full of good cheer.

“True. Can’t make a scene if there’s no one to see it.”

“Oh, no. I. I’m going to go get Miss Niki.” Techno barked a laugh but released Ranboo to go do so, and Puffy waggled her fingers at his retreating backside.

“Kayyyy. We won’t be here when you get back!”

Techno glanced down at the plate in his hand. Hm. Well, he couldn’t just return it all to the serving dishes, he’d already touched it. Puffy nudged him with her elbow, and when he glanced her way he found her pulling at her wide neckline and winking at him. With her other hand, she lifted the neck of a bottle of what surely must be rum, and he caught on immediately. Using one of the overly-fancy napkins, he bundled his snacks and passed them to her, watching her disappear them into her clothes. That was so smart, he’d have to talk to his tailor about providing him that kind of opportunity in future outfits.

His loyalty to his co-emperor did him in, though. Puffy was already heading out one of the patio doors, sneaking off into a well-maintained garden, but Techno detoured to grab Phil, knowing if there was going to be any fighting, for fun or for murder, he’d be heartbroken if Techno left him out.

“Emperor Technoblade,” greeted Niki from behind him while he was trying to wait out the conversation Phil was currently engaged in. She sounded icier than when she’d been in his antarctic home, negotiating trade.

Busted.

“Hello, Niki,” he returned. Definitely not sounding guilty. Nothing going on over here officer, no suspicious activity whatsoever.

“It seems my partner for the evening has vacated the premises. Would you care to dance with me in her place?”

“Uhhhhh.” Techno wasn’t the best at court niceties, but he knew a request from a “request.” He took her outstretched hand.

“What uh—why the sudden interest?” Oh that sounded so suspicious he could stab himself.

“Can a lowly civic servant not ask an emperor for a dance?”

“Uhhhh no, no that’s fine. That’s uh, that’s fine, just, haven’t uh—how you been, Niki, haven’t seen you in a while!” he not-so-subtly changed the subject.

“I have been alright. Times have been better for us than in a long time, and I have been kept busy making sure it all stays in running order.”

“Not too busy, I hope?”

Niki laughed, but it wasn’t the most mirthful sound he’d ever heard.

In some of Ranboo’s letters, he’d voiced concern for his mentor/sister figure, writing of nightmares and insomnia that was only partially due to her high workload.

“Cause stressin’ yourself out can take a toll on the body, you know,” Techno pushed, not sure if it was his place to or not, but eh. He liked Niki. She was a good sensible woman who (normally) didn’t make him feel like dying or killing out of sheer mortification. And during negotiations, she’d been friendly. “It’s important to take breaks and have fun, every now and then.”

She pursed her lips in a frown, and it looked so much like she was pouting that he chuckled. “C’mon, take a load off.” He grinned at her, playful and a little teasing. “There’s a very pretty girl outside who I know would just love to have you come goof off with us.”

“Well now that’s not out of the ordinary. That very pretty girl is always trying to get me to goof off.”

“Maybe you should listen to her more often.”

Niki sighed and let Techno spin her, the dress she’d chosen for the party flaring nicely. “Maybe I should.”

“Yeahhhhhhhh that’s the spirit! Come join us! We’ll make, like, a bookclub or something.”

Niki let out a “pfft,” and then giggled quietly. “I should put that in my credentials somewhere. ‘In a bookclub with an emperor.’”

“Two emperors if I can get him away from those—what are they, petty nobles?”

“Ambassadors from Kpop.”

“Cringe. We gotta get outta here, Niki, I can feel my viewership dropping by the moment.”

“I don’t know what that means—Technoblade!”

In a grand sweeping movement that was definitely not typical but could still technically be considered dancing, Techno rushed the two of them towards the patio, catching Phil’s eye just briefly enough to give a jerk of his chin, watching his friend’s eyes light up with curiosity and mirth.

Okay, good, Phil was coming.

“Really,” Niki scolded, but she wasn’t resisting him at all as he dragged her along, out into the privacy of the manicured foliage and beyond.

“Ehhh, relaaax. Nobody saw us leave. Probably.”

“I am quite sure a great many people saw us leave.”

“Eh. Phil and I already talked to everybody important that would get, like, big mad if we didn’t. We can ditch.”

“I am part of the hosting party.”

“Aaaaaaaaand now you’re not. So it’s fine, it’s fiiiine.”

Niki giggled, and it sounded just a little more genuine. Good. He was getting a good grade in cheering Niki up, something reasonable to want and possible to achieve.

“Heyyyyyy, look what the pig dragged in!” Puffy cheered, bottle open in one hand and waving excitedly with the other.

“You are incorrigible. I cannot believe you dragged an emperor in on your shenanigans.”

“This is actually pretty consistent with my character honey, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Techno barked a laugh and snagged the bottle from her, taking a big gulp before extending it towards Niki.

“I am surrounded by ruffians,” she said, but he noted she took the bottle and a big drink of her own.

“Ehhh, I wouldn’t really call two people ‘surrounded,’ maybe sandwiched?” A familiar sound of wings had Techno’s elbow angling up on instinct, and soon he had a shoulder full of best friend. “Okay, Phil’s here, now you’re surrounded.”

“Who’re we surrounding?”

“We’re forcing Niki to take a load off and have a nice evening.”

“Pog.”

“Cheers to that, Emperor number two!”

Phil spluttered around laughter as he hopped from his perch. “I’m just the number two now, am I?” He took the bottle from Niki, who went and leaned on her laughing girlfriend and pressed a kiss atop one of her horns.

The sound of footsteps and not-so-subtle huffing and puffing had them all turning to look. It was far too loud to be any kind of assassin, so nobody was on guard, and Phil took another swig of rum as Ranboo rounded a hedge.

Realizing his late entry made all eyes fall on him, Ranboo flushed. Huh. He turned kinda greenish on one side and a more typical red on the other. Pogchamp, Techno supposed.

“Uh,” he said, still catching his breath a bit. “Um. Miss Niki, you, uh, left the party.”

“Sorry Ranboo,” she said, looking honestly chagrined. “I did not mean to leave you there on your own.”

Ah. Left alone by the extrovert that adopted you at a party that wasn’t your idea to attend in the first place. A fate worse than death, which Techno would not wish on his worst enemy, much less friend.

“Um. Why is, everyone here, and not, inside?” he asked, tail twitching and lashing with his agitation.

“We’re ditching,” Techno said, slinging an arm around the little beanpole once again. “You are too.”

“I’m—what?” Ranboo spluttered as Techno dragged him forward, starting the group into a slow amble further from the noises of the party, Niki looking at him with apology and Puffy cheering around a laugh.

“Yeah, mate, you’re a delinquent now!” Phil said brightly, pushing Ranboo from behind while Techno pulled. “Gotta play hookie with us.”

“I, um, I uh, well,” he stammered, twisting his fingers, looking about between them and finding absolutely no help.

“You’re bein’ peer pressured. We’re peer pressurin’ you. Just come goof off with us, Ranboo, join the dark side, we have cookies.”

“We do, actually,” Puffy said, taking the rum back and finishing off the bottle. “I’ve got enough snacks hidden in my various pockets to feed an army.”

“Absolute pogchamp.”

“Oh I knew you were up to something!”

“Always,” Puffy said with a wink, rising up onto her hooftips to kiss Niki’s cheek.

“I, uh…” Ranboo sighed. It was a great heaving thing, making him sound more and more like a dejected cat.

“Yeahhhh! One Ranboo, officially roped into our nonsense. Gang’s all here now, gang’s all here.”

“So what’re we doing?” Phil asked cheerfully, crossing his wrists behind his head in a strikingly anime fashion.

“Well, the captain and I were gonna fight—” Phil’s eyes lit up in an excited glint, drawn to the allure of playful violence, “��but since we’ve got Niki and Ranboo now I say we just goof around on the beach.”

“That… does actually sound kind of nice,” Niki admitted, and Ranboo’s whole body perked hopefully. Techno gave one noodle arm a nudge with an elbow and sent him a quick wink. They’d get that girl to take a load off and enjoy herself, even if it took all four of them to do it.

A rustling, too large to be a rabbit, came from a bush ahead of them, just on that seam of land where dirt shifted into sand. Not a moment later, out spilled a man, a man wearing a bright blue onesie.

“Connor?!?” asked all five of them, equally shocked.

“Hey heyyyyyyy, guyyyyys,” Connor said, one leg still trapped inside the bush, splayed out on his back and craning his neck back to look at them, lifting a hand in a peace sign. “How’s it going?”

“Connor, what are you doing here?” Niki asked, concerned.

“Wait, how do you know Connor?” Phil asked.

“How do you know Connor?” Ranboo countered, Niki helping pry the man loose from the bush’s terrible clutches and more or less right himself on his feet.

“Oh, I get around a lot,” Connor said blithely, “At this point I know most people.”

For a moment, they stood in a loose circle, staring silently at one another.

A bottle uncorked and attention turned to Puffy. “I mean, I also know Connor,” she said, taking a swig of something new. “Wanna come screw around on the beach with us? I brought snacks.”

“Oh fuck yeah.”

And screw around they did. Mostly just walking and talking under starlight, the ocean breeze cool but only as much to be pleasant. They found a nice flat rock to take a sit on and Puffy shared the many treats she’d secreted, everyone chowing down and laughing around jokes and conversation. Phil and Puffy got into a wrestling match in the sand at one point, Connor braided uneven sections of Puffy’s hair while Niki pleated nice, neat rows, Techno and Ranboo discussed the recent installment of a book series they’d both been following and that Ranboo had shipped a copy of, knowing Techno would want one and wouldn’t want to wait long enough to place the order all the way from Antarctica.

Phil perched on Techno’s shoulders for no reason other than to feel tall, Connor relayed a tale so wild no one was sure if Connor could actually have survived that sort of thing, or if he was just making up shit as he went along, and Niki was laughing with her whole chest, flush to her cheeks and a weight lifted from her.

It was a good evening. A good night, as the moon rose higher and the distant, far-off sounds of partying wound lower. Their group was winding down as well, conversation fading into companionable silence.

Niki’s weight slumped against Techno’s side, and he glanced down to find the woman asleep.

“Gotter,” he teased softly, nudging Ranboo on his other side.

“Oh, good,” he said fondly, peering around Techno and ending up leaning on him too, as a result. Phil chuckled from above, still perched on Techno’s shoulders. Connor munched away at the remaining snacks, seated on the sand in front of the flat stone, and Puffy leaned contentedly back on her hands on Niki’s other side, staring up at the starlight.

Techno still might not be the best at talking to people, but even he had to admit: if it meant getting him here, on a night that he would’ve otherwise slogged through in a stuffy party full of people he didn’t know, he was pretty glad he’d done so.

Ayup. Not a bad place for him to be.

#dream smp #Technoblade #Philza #Emduo #Niki Nihachu #Captain Puffy #Ranboo #emerald duo #smpearth #smp earth #fantasy politics #my writing #haro writes #connoreatspants is also there #syndicate #dsmp

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honoviadakai · 9 months ago

Text

What you favorite Hazbin hotel song says about you 😈🎶😇

(This list includes songs from the pilot as well as a few others that are not official but are near and dear to the fandom's collective heart)

I’m always chasing rainbows 🌈:

…so how’s your relationship with your parents?

You have a good heart but you’re way too hard on yourself

You don’t always have to be busting your ass off, taking breaks is not a crime

Also failing is not the end of the world

I believe in you, please be kinder to yourself

Inside of every demon is a rainbow 🌈 😈:

Golden retriever energy

You are so sweet but so naive

I honestly feel like if this is your fav song, I could spit in your meal and you'd just smile and get a new plate

It's ok to go apeshit

If you did ever get mad I genuinely feel like you'd be absolutely terrifying

But you're such a sweet person, i can't imagine someone pushing you to that point

Inside of every demon is a lost cause/Alastor's reprise 🎶👿:

You're a cynical bastard and you wear that shit like a badge of honor

You're on the same page as Alastor in terms of redemption being impossible/pointless

If this song is your favorite, you laugh at children when they fall over

very loudly

You're the one in your friend group that everyone has to warn about before introducing you to new people

You receive the bombastic side eye so often you smile every time it happens

ADDICT🕸️🚬:

You need a hug

All of the hugs

You're doing your best and I just want you to know I'm proud of you

Vox's Interlude📺🎶:

You like Dubstep

You like Dubstep to a concerning degree

You're also disappointed Vox doesn't have the same voice effect in cannon that he has in the song

You're a Vox simp, but you're really chill about it

Royal Flush🥃♥️♠️♦️♣️:

Hello my fellow Pansexuals and Husk Fans~

If this if your favorite song, you're a Mick Lauer fan and you were sad to hear he wasn't coming back to the official series and it made you even more jaded than you already were(I feel you)

You're also a fan of Johnathan Young and Rock music

You lowkey giggle every time you hear the "every hole is a goal" line

You probably have a sever resting bitch face that scares ppl sometimes, but deep down you're a softy

A jaded softy, but a softy

Radio Play📻🎶:

Hello Alastor fans that lament the recasting of Edward Bosco

Hello Black Gyrph0n fans that think he's not receiving enough recognition

How deep in the financial debt hole are you because of your love of Alastor and new found desire to have a retro 30's aesthetic once this song dropped?

You have good taste in music but I feel like you'd say out of pocket shit on accident

You probably know how to do the Charleston pretty well and that's pretty cool

Redemption arc🙏🎶:

Hello my depressed gifted child burnouts and Elise Lovelock fans

You're a girlboss, you really are, but I need you to take more breaks and drink more water

You strike me as someone who takes the phrase "act your wage" as a suggestion at best

If over thinking was an Olympic sport, you'd win gold, silver ans bronze

stop trying to carrying other people's baggage on top of your own, that's not building character, its building more work for your therapist

Assuming you've even allowed yourself to see one!

Insane🦌🔪:

You're unhinged

like Niffty levels unhinged

but you have good taste in music

You're also a very vocal Alastor fan

You need to be watched 24/7 because you strike me as someone who'd commit war crimes for fun

Eyes on me📺🥲:

You like Techno a normal amount

you're probably a Bo Burnham fan

You also give the vibe that you like anime like Evangalion

as well as the vibe of hiding behind a chill facade even though you're kinda depressed

you also give the impression that you're into enemies to lovers and once sided pining in romance

You ship Vox x Alastor in a wholesome way and you're foaming at the mouth for their backstory

You hate Val(as you should)

Change the order 👑🪽:

You lament that Lucifer doesn't have a British accent

You HEAVILY lament Lucifer not being a heartless asshole

You oh so desperately wanna see Lucifer and Lilith in their prime/as a united power couple

You have slight daddy issues

You're also probably someone who grew up with some religious trauma

You're in your villain arc but it's mostly yo protect yourself

i highly suggest getting a dog, a rubber duck collection and a therapist

Get hooked🚬🦋:

Your search history is not suitable for human eyes

You definitely have daddy issues

You desperately wanna see Val on the poles

You're fun at partied but you cannot be left unsupervised under any circumstances

You radiate bad bitch energy but I feel like you'd apologize to a kindly janitor if you had to walk on a floor they just finished mopping

You can run in heels and I respect that immensely

Smile like you mean it😁🦌:

I get it! You love Alastor! Please lower your voice a tad friend!

It's concerning how quick you'd sell your soul to this man

You like jazz unironically(nice)

You wanna experience one of Al's radio shows

...I'm not entirely sure if you wanna hear it or be the victim...and that deeply concerns me

Use me up��️🥲:

You wanna see Angle Dust fuck shit up(same)

You don't make friends easily but you're the loyalest son of a bitch anyone could ever have and more people need to recognize that

You probably had a really rough childhood

You give ppl middle fingers and sass the way Oprah gave out cars back in the day

You just want a hug, someone to say they're proud of you(I'm proud of you friend) and a month long nap

We're sure to drown🐈‍⬛🥃🥺:

Hello again my fellow Pansexuals and Husk fans

Specifically the ones with severe depression, trust issues and think mixing Tequila and monster energy drinks will help with the abandonment issues

yeah, i see you, put the bottle down mf

get therapy, this a threat

You're so cynical that even shadow the hedgehog would ask if you're ok

asking for help doesn't make you weak fam, i get where your coming from but you need a good plucking you prickly cactus

oddly enough, you give the best advice to the few friends you keep in your circle but take none of your own advice

You listen to country rock with lyrics so sad that everyone in the car with you immediately get concerned

definitely a cat person

POP!👁️💥:

You either wanna be stepped on or do the stepping on

You probably watched Black Lagoon and loved Revy

If you don't know what I'm talking about, look her up, that's your type

Low key probably a pyromaniac

You're that one friend that's ALWAYS ready to punch your friend's ex's in the face

Honestly, I feel like you're scrappy enough to fist fight god with the confidence of someone who thinks they have a shot at winning

My machine 🐍 ⚙️:

You were really excited to see Pentious be one of the show's antagonists

You're still a little bitter about not getting your mad scientist, steam punk, snake man

You did love his War General outfit though

You probably really like shows like Arcane

You really wanted 'Enemies to lovers' CherriSnake or platonic/rivals CherriSnake

You probably have reptile as a pet

most likely a snake

Happy day in hell🎶🎤:

You're a basic Broadway bitch but your optimism is a tad infectious so I'll let it slide

You're a tad too optimistic though

Like, to a concerning degree

Someone could punch you and you'd ask them if they were ok despite having a split lip

you're definitely a workaholic

take that PTO sweetie, work will be there when you come back

Hell is forever😇😈:

you either really like Alex Brightman or you LOVE villains

you also love rock

You kicked your feet like a love sick when Adam did the guitar solo bit

Probably a fan of bands like Skillet

You have religious trauma but your coping mechanism is to crack jokes about it

some of them are probably inappropriate

Stayed gone📺🦌:

You ship Vox x Alastor a "normal" amount

You'd sell your soul for Vox and Al to have more duets together

You're probably a Vox simp

If you're not, its cuz you're an Al simp

You giggled at "That's the tea"

You also drooled at Al's demon form towards the end of the song

It starts with sorry🐍🥹:

friend, you are way too forgiving

someone could steal your life's savings and I feel like you'd just let them have it because "they probably need it more"

You were very proud of Pentious

Respectless💅📱:

You radiate chihuahua energy

You are 5'2 or smaller and 90 lbs soaking wet

someone need to make sure you don't run these streets lawless

don't get me wrong

You are absolutely a bad bitch that serves cunt like a 5 star restaurant serves gourmet steak

but you're gonna say the wrong thing to the wrong person one day

you cannot afford to fuck around and find out when they're over 5'9 my friend, sit down please

Whatever it takes🦋🩰:

you're the eldest child of your family aren't you

You don't need to prioritize everyone before yourself!

Love yourself first damn it!

You probably like Milfs or goths

You also probably wish Zestial had more songs

I have a feeling your favorite Disney movie is Encanto...

Poison🚬🕷️🥺:

Holy fuck you need a hug

You're either a survivor of some kind or life has just been kicking you in the balls for no god damn reason

Come here, I'm adopting you and making sure you're actually happy

You're low key an amazing dancer

literally one of the best people to be friends with

Loser Baby🐈‍⬛🕷️:

hello my fellow queers, Keith David fans, Blake Roman fans and Huskerdust shippers

You are a connoisseur of slow burn romance

You're probably a depressed hopeless romantic

friend, if you want the Husker to your dust...the loser to your baby...you gotta talk to people...

go touch grass

you're that one friend who bullies your bestie but that's cuz that your guy's love language

If anyone messed with your bestie, you'd fight that person to the death the way Husk and Angel did to those loan sharks

Hell's greatest dad🪽🦌:

You either beef with ppl for fun or you're a very flamboyant theater kid

Its probably both tbh

You probably fell in love with the blonde short king after this song

You ship Radioapple

you want a sitcom ft Radioapple and you'd sell your soul to get it

Your fav Disney movie is probably Aladdin

You totally play "HaHA! Fuck you..." on repeat

More than anything🪽😭:

So how's your relationship with your dad...

You cried so hard to this song that it scared you

grab the tissues, get your coziest blanket and go get your favorite treat

and some therapy

Welcome to Heaven😇🎶:

Emily is your favorite character

Your gaydar was going off when St. Peter started existing

Your a chill person

A little too chill though…

You might still be an active member of your community

Ya might wanna consider reducing your hours, there is such a thing as too much loyalty

Treat yourself to a vacation

You didn't know😧🪽:

Hello fellow black sheep of the family with severe religious trauma

You freaked the fuck out when the “If Hell is forever then Heaven must be a lie” line dropped

You felt so vindicated after this song and honestly, same

You LOVED Emily by the end of this song

Out for love 💗 🩰:

You like MILFs

You want Carmilla to kick/step on you

You’re either a magical girl fan, a fan of Latin music or both

You cheered so hard for Vaggie at the end you definitely got a noise complaint 🤣

Ready for this🎤⚔️:

You have anxiety

Your favorite character is probably Charlie

Your favorite movie is probably Marry Poppins or something in the same time period/genre

You’ve dealt with Karen’s before and watching Susan become tolerable was so satisfying for you

You want Alastor and Rosie to adopt you

More than anything(reprise):

You're the poster child of sappy hopeless romantics

You cried a little from joy here

You’re definitely not straight

You want this moment, go get yourself a Vaggie cuz you’re definitely gonna be the Charlie of the relationship

Finale🎶🎆:

You're the ultimate theater kid

This song hit all the sweet spots in your depressed brain for you

Let’s be honest, your favorite part of the song was either the Vees or Alastor

It’d your favorite part was with the Vees, your a huge chaos gremlin

You cannot be trusted with information but you’re very fun at parties

If your favorite part was Alastor’s part, get therapy

If you related to that part on a spiritual level, you mask so hard I’d believe you if you said you were born wearing a mask

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin music #musicals #Hazbin meme

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w3r3theli0nshunt · 4 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐛𝐞

𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tw! Sexual themes, mature language, blowjob, smut, vomit, heavy consuming of alcohol, forest sex, cum eating, slight angst, comforting, fluff, fingering, reader is referred to as y/n, MDNI! This is a heavy one so hold on tight!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠’𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐝𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩. 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞.

✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰

Freshly transferred to the KorTac army and the exhilaration of holding guns and targeting enemies is a sick burden you carry. You don’t relish on the thought too much or your forgotten childhood. But maybe it’s a good thing, since you’ve never had luck by your side nor the fortune to do as you please and you’ve got the scars to prove it and all of the rights to bury it deep. How you’ve been on your knees financially and the desperation has been clogging your mind as you crawled from job to job for the cash. Despite that coldness and hazy mind of memories that mostly burnt to ashes by now, you still feel the heath lingering in your heart, you still feel the way your heart beats out of love…..for your superior. A fucking miracle, eh?

Doesn’t really help that your superior is so fucking hot that you feel the intense arousal in your pants, doesn’t help either that he always insist on striking up conversations with you or you’re always running into him, wondering if it’s a damn coincident or intentional. Guess you’ll never know…You just wanna touch him, feel him, make him sweat, make him beg for you. Gods, that would be a pleasant sight. You wanna see his tears roll down his cheeks as you suck him off, lick him clean of his fluids and hear his wild moans as you do so.

“Hello? Y/n?” König waves his hand in front of your face to try and pull you out from the fake scenarios you make up inside of your chaotic mind, you flinch and with an embarrassed smile you turn away from his gaze.

“Yea….uh….sorry” You whisper the embarrassment clear as day and the blush unnaturally dark tinted on your cheeks that König spots, suddenly finding the grey, dull concrete wall extremely interesting.

König chuckles as he shares the same scenarios as you did, he feels his cock harden by the thoughts of you and him acting like insane animals in heat in his bed. You letting him take control as he tightly ties your wrists to the hollow bed frame and you let him do as he pleases to you. Shoving his throbbing cock down your throat and the sweet sounds of you gurgling as he fucks it til it hurts. Then when he’s done, he’ll be kind enough to lick you clean off your cum that he had worked hard on with his massive hand and tongue. Your moans will sound like swan songs and your pleads will be because of your devotion for him, you’ll worship him and he’ll treat you like his spouse - even better than a spouse. Gods, you’re a sight for sore eyes.

The pub is loud, annoyingly so, because the repeating, intense beats and rough bass of the techno music is like nails to a chalkboard. Piercing your ears and forming a slight headache, maybe because of the tension as well because you’re so damn horny that it’s painful. You itch you fuck something, you long to be touched, you long to feel satisfied.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe the alcohol already has its influences on you. The strong liquor taste burns on your taste buds as you chug another vodka shot down your gullet, and another, then another and then a few more as your vision is extremely blurry and your thoughts aren’t lining up correctly by every shot you shove down. You feel a buildup in your throat that you can’t control, so you run to the nearest bathroom and spill out all of the contents in your stomach. The taste of half digested food combined with stomach juices is the only taste you can taste in your tongue and it severely disgusts you.

When you flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth, in hope of getting rid of that horrid taste, you open the bathroom door and spot a huge silhouette mere inches away from you in the dim lit corridor, you try to walk past the man but he tightly grips your arm, forcing you to stop. And because of your intoxicated mind, you can’t fight back or even think clearly for that matter.

“You’re trying to escape me, Liebe?” König, the graspy voice belongs to König, your hot superior.

You suddenly remember that you’re extremely horny and now that he is touching you only worsen your state. You feel desperate and needy so you try to reach up his mask to pull it away, but König hastily lets go of the grip and back away. You’re not sure why, but you see fear in his eyes and he stands in a protective stance as if he’s trying to stay far away from you as possible which makes you whiny.

“Why did you follow me here if you don’t want me?” You whine as you try to approach him again and he lets you this time.

Your fingers are pulling at the hem of his mask, the very annoying crave to rip his mask off and kiss whatever lips he’s hiding under there is teasing you. But König isn’t pulling away either, if anything he enjoys it. He seems sober, but yet the scent of alcohol lingers on his tight shirt that is exposing his godly sculptured body underneath the cloth. You drool as your fingers are now exploring his clothed skin, you can’t help it.

“Careful, Schatz. You’re on some very, very thin ice” König feels himself being affected by your touching, therefore you need to stop before he goes insane. You’re trapped inside of his heart, tightly wrapped there too and he won’t be able to restrain himself if you give him such hope, and he’ll become furious if it evolves into false hope, so carefully monitor your moves before you fully activate him ;)

You stare up with lazy eyes and red cheeks caused by the liquor, into his green/blue eyes and you see a smudge of desire and desperation. It’s as if he’s silently begging you with his eyes, so you push your body up hard against him to test that theory. You feel his huge bulge poking you through his pants and you feel the desire to rip those damned clothes off of him, you can’t stand another minute of being untouched. You bury yourself in his scent and moan in satisfaction.

“Superior, pl-please. I want you so fucking bad”

“I-I need you too, Schatz” König moans as he feels you rubbing against his bulge intentionally to increase his sex lust which you succeed with as he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the war and you struggle to maintain on your feet due to the heavy intoxication.

Your impatience is running low and you’ve been walking forever in the cool night air, so you pull away when you’ve reached a semi private place. It’s in a forest where the leaves of the trees rustles and birds chirp cute melodies, a fucking Wizard of Oz scene. König turns around and look at you with puppy eyes almost preparing to cry out of frustration (he’s as frustrated as you are), he thinks you’re rejecting him, that his massive bulge in his pants has been for nothing.

“S-sir, I can’t wait much longer. N-need you n-now”

“Schatz, it’s only a few more minutes before we reach the cabin. Hold on”

“Nooooo, I can’t anymore. Please, let’s do it now”

“A-alright”

You sigh in content as you rush to König and begin working on his clothes, with your shaky fingers rummaging everywhere on him except the right places to pull of his clothes, your intoxicated mind is making this difficult and testing your patience that is awfully slim right now. König chuckles and takes off his clothes until he stands butt naked in front of you. You take in the beautiful sight. The way the hair on his body shine in the dim lights of the moonlight and the way his precum is leaking and running down his thick thigh as he stands still as a statue, confused on what to do next.

“Take my clothes off, Hot-ass” You smirk seductively.

König obliges and tears your clothes off mercilessly, before you finally feel free from the wet clothes that only stuck uncomfortably to your body. You rip off König’s mask and his face is instantly morphs into a shocked and scared expression. He starts to heavily pant and tries to hide his face with his hands almost starting to panic, so you cup his cheeks and forces him to look at you. His beautiful eyes staring in complete devotion as you return the favour, his soft lips and the dark stubble on his chin. Then his chestnut brown hair flowing with the cool breezes of the wind. You’re falling in love with him quickly, you feel the way your heart beat hard against your ribs, it’s almost painful, the way you also forget the ability to breathe.

“You’re so goddamn hot. Do you know what you’re fucking doing to me?” You pant and before he tries to argue with you, you press your lips roughly against his.

König instantly takes the lead, trapping you in a desperate, passionate kiss as he wraps his muscular arms around you to pull your naked bodies hard against each other. His precum smearing on you in the process, but you feel even more excited because of that. Your fingers now roam on his hairy body, massaging him and he groans into your mouth before cupping your cheeks to deepen the kiss more. The sexual arousal is at its finest point, now there’s no limit anymore only the huge lust and….affection.

“I’ve missed you so much, Schatz. Never thought I’d ever see Mein Liebe again” König moans between the kisses, but you seem unfazed by the remark, not remembering anything.

“I’ve never known you before. I have just transferred here, sir” You moan back and König pulls away and looks at you with a sad expression that nearly breaks your whole heart.

“You-you don’t remember me? We-we used to be friends. Very good friends” König sounds devastated, but you can’t remember him. The horniness is shrouding your mind, any thinking or reminiscing is only in vain right now so why even bother.

You offer him a drunk smile as you get on your knees, your face is mere inches from König’s cock, you look into his sad eyes that is gazing down into your own , looking for permission.

“Can I? I puked my dinner up and I’m starving” You’re surprised by your unhinged comment.

König gives you a slow, upset nod and you resume to stare at his throbbing cock before your tongue flickers across it. You hear König’s moans and he grabs your head with one hand, squeezing your hair in his hand. Then you start to suck, leaving painful marks on his sensitive cock, his tears falls down nestling into your scalp as you continue to suck hard before taking his tip into your mouth. You lick away all the precum.

“Gosh, Liebling. Keep going, I wanna cum in your mouth!” König cries as he feels the huge buildup.

You insert a few more inches of his cock into your mouth, torturing him with the heath and wetness of your tongue on his tip, playing with it to tease König. You hum into his cock as approval and he releases his cum buildup into your mouth following with a loud groan from him that can alert people kilometres away, a new, bitter taste as the white fluid leaks from the gapes of your mouth. Coming as drops down chin to your sweaty torso. You swallow the cum as if it was a goulasch soup then you pull away from his cock and forces your pained knees to support your weight.

After a few exchange of heavy pants and sweat dripping from the both of you. König rushes to you and pushes you hard against a tree, caging you in with his forearms against the wide tree, some multicoloured leaves snowing around you in the process. Then he pulls you into an intense kiss that’s burning your tongue as he pushes his needy tongue through your teeth, rubbing the bumps of his tongue against yours, lusting for your taste. He groans at the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, and he rubs his tongue that tastes like liquor and cigarettes. You hold yourself on your feet with the help of your hands roughly gripping his broad shoulders as the intensity of the kiss is making you dizzy, probably worsening the intoxication. Then his hand slides down your body and stops when he’s reached your drenched folds and gently pulling two fat fingers in it as you moan into his wet mouth.

Then the finger fucking picks up the pace and it becomes more rough, more desperate. More enjoyable for you and the pleasure is truly fulfilling your needs. And a buildup of your come.

“I-I want you to cum on my fingers, Schatz” König pants into your mouth and you happily oblige.

You release the buildup and it paints his fingers in white goo, he then release the touch of your cunt and pulls up the fingers to his mouth and takes a lick off the white goo.

“You taste so good, Schatz. Taste it yourself” König moans as he licks his fingers clean of your cum and then traps you into another tongue kiss, allowing you to taste yourself, burying the taste of yourself in your taste buds.

König pulls away and picks you up into his arms with your legs wrapped around his wide torso, arms around his neck and he throws you against the green, humid grass and climbs on top of you. He forces your shoulder down with two jerks before you oblige and lay down. He rubs his sweaty body against yours as he resumes to kissing you, his fingers exploring every corner and inch off you. König leaves wet kisses as he moves from your lips to your neck, starting to suck on your soft skin, leaving red painful marks as he marks you as his. You gaze up the night sky, see how the white clouds travels in the sky, the stars shining as small, yellow dots in the black sky and the moon judging you as it sits still.

You start to feel exhausted and satisfied, you let your eyes shut when they became heavier and more difficult to rebel against. The last sight of the eventful night is when König stares into your droopy eyes and asks you if you’re falling asleep, he instantly cuddles his body to yours and stops kissing you. Then you drifted off, letting the young night pass by.

Then you wake up with the grass tickling your back, the sunlight burning into your eyes as soon as you open them up and a heavy weight suffocating you, robbing you off your air. Your gaze around your surrounding, your mind finally starting sober up, you see your superior relaxing on you with soft snores and small whimpers as if he’s having a nightmare, his large arms hugging you tightly against him. You wonder how the hell you ended up naked, in a forest, with your hot af superior. You blush in embarrassment, not knowing what to do and how to get out of his tight embrace without waking him up. Confrontation can wait, at least until you sober up and don’t have a painful headache.

“P-please don’t leave me. Don’t! Please! Y/n!” König whimpers as you try to snake your way out of his embrace, but he grabs you and pulls you back while still being in the REM state, and you instantly feel bad about making up a plan to escape his very comforting embrace and leave him alone on the grass to escape the embarrassment. So you stay and start caressing his hair, trying to soothe him.

“Shh, you’re safe, König. It’s only an nightmare” You coo into his ear and you feel his arms tightening around you and he buries his head in your chest, and you feel the wetness of his tears staining your bare chest.

“Don’t go. I don’t want you to go, y/n” König mumbles into your chest and you feel your heart flutter by the way he’s begging you to stay, the fact that he wants you to stay. It seems as if the gods above have heard your wishes and made them come true, you’re silently thanking them. Does he love you too? And will you need to tell him how you feel?

“I won’t go, König. I’ll stay here” You hesitate for a while, but then says “I’ll always stay if you want me to”

König wakes up from his nightmare and looks up into your compassionate face through his tear stained eyes that reeks of fear and despair. A unfamiliar look you’ve never seen on his face before.

“Do you promise? Will you stay for me, Schatz?”

“Do you want me to?” You dry his tears with your thumbs as you cup his cheeks.

“If I say I never want you to leave me again, will you say yes?” Your heart flutter and you almost felt at loss of words.

“I-…I’d really like that! Oh uhmmm. I meant, I’d like that” You cough to try and hide the embarrassment by your very enthusiastic reply, you earn a chuckle from him and a long peck on your lips.

“Mein Liebe” König says as he pecks your cheek and he’s suddenly tossed you into the pits of reminiscing, where you suddenly remember that your childhood friend used to call you that - as a joke ofc. But you never thought your childhood friend would become such a handsome man, let alone joining the military.

“Wait….I’ve heard that before…are you-“

“Yes, Mein liebe, I am. And we’re to be wed next week. We made a promise as kids and I intend to fulfil it”

#könig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig x y/n #könig x fem reader #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #cod mw2 smut #cod #cod mw2 #smut #König angst #female reader #feminine reader #Spotify

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nomsfaultau · 2 months ago

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Pov you're one of MFR! Techno's classmates, not friends but amicable enough, and you watch everything go down

Huh he's hanging out with a lookalike cool cool wish I had one too

Oh he's sick? Chronically? Dang hope he's fine

Oh his parents were kidnapped— what

HANG ON HE'S ON TV???? WHAT

So, campus perception of Techno is actually touched on in the last chapter that’s taking forever to finish. Mostly in a comedy way but yeah, his classmates do notice!

I’m imagining they’re probably using his plagiarism service so like at first it’s mostly business but also like they do the public speaking on a project cause Techno doesn’t wanna, maybe waving at the caf but not eating together. Like offhand hear he’s published some books and it’s like oh that’s cool but not invested enough to check it out (which. Fair my friends didn’t read mine either lol).

Maybe they jokingly suggest Techno should pull pranks with Wilbur, trying to fish for info on the betting pool for what’s up. And Techno just mutters that the guy is clingy and nosy (which gets back to Phil obvs).

Then Techno’s chronically ill and like dang now they have to try on essays. Since he’s not responding to their texts (financial control is an abuse tactic Phil~). Maybe they sign a card that never gets to him. But Wilbur says he’s fine and he probably knows, right? And then on top of that Skeppy is freaking out because apparently his parents dipped pretty quickly after the guy went on hospice. And by the way Skeppy is muttering good riddance occasionally, it’s not super clear if Techno has like. Any financial support??? Must bc really crappy parents if they left their kid the moment he became disabled jeeze dude. Or really bad luck if they got murdered or something idk. A semester happens, they kinda forget about him except when maybe struggling with an essay. In late November Wilbur drops off the face of the earth but seems to still submit assignments according to a prof. Maybe he got sick too..?

And then Skeppy is sick maybe? For a few days? And then Techno is on the news and the court case drama is sweeping the tabloids and Techno is back with scars and a knife and jumps unexpectedly, bolts, rumors are flying about him attacking people and all the papers say he’s crazy. And maybe he is. But all they know is something had to have happened to change Techno from the laid back nerd they knew, the guy who breezed through tests and muttered roasts about the professor just loud enough they caught it sitting a row behind. Because the man constantly counting exits, with the hand that jolts to something lodged in his belt when startled, with the eyes that seem to strip you bare as they search for a threat that isn’t there- that’s not Techno. Right?

So while the whole world is convinced Techno is a delusional mess, quietly the students of Hypixel begin to wonder just who the Angel really is.

WH- WHY ARE ALL HIS FRIENDS ASKING FOR THEIR LITTLE BROTHER’S HAND ME DOWNS!?!?!?!??????????

#Aaaaand great now I’m ignoring lambs to work more on mfr #Techno is…..pregnant? That solves everything!1!#sbi au #technoblade #philza #dsmp #sbi #mcyt #dark sbi #technoblade fanfic #Technoblade angst #Mandatory family reunion #something to nom on #Ask

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cochart · 9 months ago

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ChatGPT fans are abolutely techno-spiritual, you are correct. A vague sense of destiny has always pervaded the AI community, and recently they have fallen victim to grifters and tech gurus who have played that up to get investment, because they have financial interest in convincing everyone that AI is the future, and also that what we have now is AI. (It's not. What we have is a series of data-crunching tools, nothing intelligent, just like you said). The podcast Behind the Bastards had a recent episode or two about how culty and weird these AI goons have become. It's worth a listen imo

Yes! I do feel like the recent surge of stupid genAI models is partly due to the fact that we're reaching the end of Q1 for this year. This is usually the time when companies whip up bs (the recent video generators, game generators, etc.) to beg investors to pour in more money for them.

The AI community is def culty. I feel like a lot of tech spaces can get culty but are not called out as much because it consists mostly of men. NFTs and crypto, for example, were reasonably called out as MLMs for young men. I've seen some interviews on Youtube where these really young guys fresh out of college talked about how they actually went into debt by joining various crypto/nft discord communities and pouring in their money.

I'd better check out that podcast if I can haha

Thanks for the recommendation.

I also found this article from Rollingstone earlier this year interesting. https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/ai-companies-advocates-cult-1234954528/

#coch talk

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rissarants · 11 months ago

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Farewell, My Favorite Fever Dream

Note: If you're only interested in my final show's recap, scroll down a bit. Obviously, spoiler warning. My Previous History with Sleep No More Before this past Saturday afternoon, it had been about a decade since I last checked into The McKittrick Hotel. What I thought would be my final visit was in October of 2013, my best friend and I attended another Sleep No More show that was promptly followed by Panic! At The Disco's album release party. It was an incredible evening, despite the "give me a vodka cranberry, this time with vodka" incident that resulted in a bartender gleefully sending me into a drunken spiral. It was my fourth show and I assumed it would be my last. After all, how many times could a person justify seeing the same show? (After perusing the Sleep No More subreddit and discord... apparently a lot. How the hell are you all affording this?!)

Content with my experiences and convinced I had seen all there was to see, I put that obsession behind me.... or so I thought.

The mysterious and cryptic world of Sleep No More lingered in the back of my head like a haunting melody that refused to fade. Occasionally I would reminisce about the blue-tinged forest maze, the smell of the hotel lobby, and recall my 1:1 with Hecate. I relished retelling my experiences to people who had never been to the show. During the peak of my obsession, I had recapped a couple of my visits here on Tumblr (Sleep No More and The Third Time's The Charm) and I would return long after this blog had grown dormant just to reread those posts. I had toyed with the idea of returning, but as I grew older and life became more expensive, so did the show. I couldn't justify dropping that amount of money on something I had seen four times already. Then came the closing announcement. Suddenly I found myself pulling up the site, going over current ticket prices, and wishing I could take that leap. But I was no longer the financially irresponsible 20-something without real responsibility. I'm in my thirties, a mother, and have things like preschool tuition to worry about.

After a casual conversation with my in-laws over Thanksgiving dinner, the topic of Sleep No More was brought up. Immediately I was gushing about how much I adored the show, my past experiences, and how I had never reached that elusive 6th floor. As a result, they ended up buying me two tickets as my gift for Christmas. They had sprung for the Oz's Guest tickets, so we were able to get priority entry, a table, and a complimentary coat check. It was an incredibly generous gift, and I was nearly moved to tears. I was finally going back. My Final Show Recap After an excruciating month of waiting and obsessing, the day had finally arrived. I was going with my husband who had never attended but heard my stories and was looking forward to seeing it for himself. I wanted him to go in mostly blind and only gave him the most basic of tips (e.g. if an actor offers their hand, take it. If you hear techno music, run towards it.) He understood that we would not be going on this adventure together, I refused to be one of those obnoxious couples who held hands the entire time. Half of the fun is going with someone, separating from them once you enter the hotel, and then talking about what you both experienced afterward. For myself, I had done a bit of research before this final show and was hoping to follow the loops of characters I hadn't paid attention to before. While I had this initial plan, I also promised myself that I would go with the natural flow of things. I had been warned about the aggressive crowds and didn't want to let anything like that spoil my final visit. We arrived early, were checked in swiftly, and given a pair of playing cards (aces, which meant we would be in the first group.) Before I knew it, "The Man Who Knew Too Much Prelude" was filling my ears as we navigated the pitch-black maze that acts like a portal to the Manderley bar. We had a table waiting for us, but since we had aces there was not enough time for a drink. Our group was called, and Steve and I were separated almost immediately. I ended up on the elevator and he was in another group that went up some stairs.

I was the first person off of the elevator and the doors shut quickly behind me. For a split second, I thought I may have been dumped out on the 6th floor, but unfortunately, it was the 5th floor. I spotted the familiar bathtubs and beds of the King James Sanitorium and began to wander. I weaved through the Birch Forest maze, which was every bit as eerie and confusing as I remembered. I saw Matron Lang hanging out in her wooden hut and watched her through the window for what felt like a long time. Eventually, I grew a bit bored and wandered down to Macbeth's bedroom.

I watched the scene where Lady Macbeth eventually convinces her husband to murder Duncan. It was at this point that I considered trying to follow Macbeth throughout the first loop and chased him to the canopy where a sleeping Duncan lay. I watched as Macbeth smothered him with a pillow, a long brutal scene where we had to stand there helplessly as Duncan fought back angrily, eventually weakening and giving up with a final twitch. Macbeth tried to wash his hands in a basin, only to realize that they were now covered in blood. I still can't believe that I somehow missed this pivotal moment in my previous shows. At this point, a sizeable crowd had gathered around the (quite handsome) actor who played Macbeth and I noticed a few aggressive women were shoving their way to the front. It was then that I decided to hang back with Duncan's dead body to see what would happen next. I believe it was Banquo who came in, found the body, and began ringing the bell. Malcolm and Macduff arrived, and they all expressed their grief, eventually bringing the body down to the crypt. Again, a pushy crowd had begun to gather and I craved space. I went up a flight or two and heard the unmistakable techno beats of the witches' second prophecy/rave/blood orgy thing. I immediately changed course and followed the beats to the long, dark, hallway topped with a neon sign that once read "Hello There" but now simply stated "Hell here." The rave scene is still as impactful as it was the first time I had seen it... complete sensory overload. I ended up in a spot where I was front and center, watching as Hecate whipped the other witches up into a frenzy. The beat dropped and the strobe lights kicked in, causing the scene to be presented in short flashes. The Boy Witch completely nude, on top of a table wearing an animal's head. Macbeth presented with a bloody infant. The guttural screams of the witches' power.

I stayed after the rave to witness the Sexy Witch do her exhausted, eerie dance behind the bar as Hecate watched. Afterward, Hecate and Agnes had a tense moment where the former gathered the latter's tears in a little glass vial.

It was at this point that I decided to follow Agnes back to her apartment, the Tailor made his creepy appearance through her closet, and the loop restarted. I tried sticking with Agnes for as long as I could, getting to see her dance with the Tailor, steal his money, and eventually make her way to the hotel lobby.

It was there that I was reunited with an old character I remembered fondly: the Porter. While I did not have a true 1:1 with him in my previous shows, he did give me the note that eventually led to my cherished Hecate 1:1. That was then followed by a frantic, yet fruitless attempt at finding her ring.

This time I hung back and observed as the Porter had his tea scene with Agnes, followed by a drunken dance as he cleaned up the hotel. I have to say that this actor was incredibly good, mixing a bit of rage, sadness, and silliness as he leaped around the room pulling sheets from lamps. After the Boy Witch arrived to taunt and then cruelly reject the Porter, one of the other white masks (audience members) was whisked away into the Porter's office for a 1:1. At this point, I admit that I was feeling a little confused about what to do next. I was approximately halfway through this final show and had an anxious feeling about wasting the precious moments I had left. I recalled reading how you could gain access to the 6th floor 1:1 by encountering a nurse on the 5th floor. I decided to check it out quickly, hoping that I would get lucky.

Instead, I ran into Nurse Shaw, who was doing an odd dance in the window between the bathtubs and the forest. I followed her through the woods and ran into Matron Lang who seemed transfixed by the Nurse. They both seemed to mirror each other's movements and the Matron started moving through the maze in an attempt to catch up to the Nurse. She was unsuccessful as the Nurse disappeared back through her window, and I decided to follow a slightly dejected Matron Lang back to her hut. She walked up the steps to the wooden hut and turned around, staring right into my eyes. It was at this moment that she extended her hand. I suddenly felt breathless as the sensation of butterflies tinged with fear filled my chest. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized I would be experiencing a 1:1 at my final show. I slowly took her hand, and she pulled me up into the hut.

My 1:1 with Matron Lang She was silent as she shut the door behind me, followed by the window, and then turned to face me. She slowly removed my mask, all the while never breaking eye contact, and whispered something along the lines of "That's better." I tried to say thank you, but the words caught in my dry mouth, my tongue suddenly feeling foreign and useless.

She offered me a seat, went to her desk, and prepared a cup of tea. As she did so, she locked eyes with me in a small mirror. She was not smiling. I wanted to look away, but it was so unnerving that I felt like I had to hold her gaze in fear of seeming rude.

She handed me the cup of tea with a spoon and leaned forward expectantly. I didn't know what she wanted, so after a couple of awkward beats, she gently grabbed my hand to guide the spoon into the tea and then into her mouth. I fed her the tea about three times, slowly and trying not to let my shaking hand spill any liquid onto her face.

The entire time she stared at me. I'm sure she blinked at some points, but I swear it felt like her piercing eyes never moved.

After the tea, she quietly told me a story about a young child who was all alone. "Once upon a time there was a poor child with no mother and no father. Everything was dead, and there was nobody left in the whole world. Everything was dead. The boy went on search day and night and since there was no one left on earth he wanted to go up into the heavens. The moon looked at him so friendly! But when he finally got to the moon, the moon was a piece of rotten wood. And then he went to the sun, and when he got there, the sun was a wilted sunflower. And when he went to the stars they were little golden flies stuck up there like the shrike sticks them on the blackthorn. And when he wanted to go back to earth, the earth was an overturned piss pot. And he was all alone. And he sat down and he cried, and he is still there to this day, all alone." (Apparently, this is from Büchner’s Woyzeck. I had to look it up when I got home.)

As she whispered this story, her eyes began to fill with tears, prompting mine to do the same. She held my palm, tracing the lines and occasionally squeezing my hand. She then leaned far back in her chair, pulling my hand with her so I had to lean forward. Without warning, she flung forward, grabbed my shoulders as I gasped, and whispered "It'll have blood they say, blood will have blood." She got up, put my mask on, and showed me the door. As I left, she shut the door behind her, and I was back in the woods with other white masks who were staring at me intently. I walked past them as I tried to regulate my breathing and figure out what to do next. After that adrenaline rush, the rest of the night was a bit of a blur. I bounced between characters as the crowds grew larger and more unruly. I saw the angry Taxidermist searching for something, finally caught the ballroom party, and helped another white mask catch pregnant Lady Macduff when she passed out. I saw the Bald Witch's transformation, the rave one final time, and then followed the Sexy Witch to the apothecary.

She knelt down, dress still hanging off of her with her chest exposed. She washed the blood off of her skin and hair in a small bowl, then stood and handed me a towel. I helped towel her off slowly, she then fixed her dress and grabbed me close to whisper "Blood will have blood" in my ear.

I followed her out to the last banquet and had a front-row spot for the finale. I'll never be able to properly describe how that scene makes me feel. The slow-motion acting, the allusion to 'The Last Supper", Macbeth's frantic "NO", followed by the snap of the noose. Absolutely chilling.

The wood groaned under the weight of the swinging body, with the creaking eventually drowned out by "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" by Glenn Miller. We were all herded out of the hotel in a haze, greeted by a loud jazz band playing old-timey renditions of current popular songs. It's a jarring switch of moods, which only seemed to exacerbate my post-show disorientation.

The 6th floor still eludes me.

Is that all there is?

#sleep no more #the mckittrick hotel #punchdrunk #sleep no more nyc #immersive theatre #macbeth

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clarity2electricboogaloo · 9 months ago

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This might get long but it’s on the brain right now. Not much organization just ranting.

Not proof read immediately, might make edits later.

The Wilbur situation. It’d fucking sickening to think about but when I see posts ranting I kinda have to and now it won’t leave.

Wilbur soot, since June or July of 2022, was such an inspiration to me. His acting, his music, what he was able to create through just a computer screen and a game where everything is shaped like a block. It was amazing.

I loved watching him and his interactions with people like Tommy, Phil, Techno (RIP 👑) and anyone else on the dsmp server or the osmp or anything else he had joined since.

I had loved his characters and the way things developed. His music could be something I blast in my headphones, something I could cry to, or something to just vibe to. Hell, his fucking band was my top artist last year for Spotify wrapped.

I’d cosplayed tallulah and taken pictures with Wilburs at a convention. More people he had impacted and sparked creativity in.

He was a part or daily life, honestly.

And that all came crashing down yesterday.

I got the news at school from a friend that enjoyed Wilbur’s content before everything. During lunch she said, “He basically admitted to the allegations.”

I needed to see it to fully comprehend it, but there it was later when I checked discord. A half-assed apology for the abuse allegations flooding in after Shelby’s stream. I was disgusted.

I watched Shelby’s vod of the stream next. Everything I heard clicked with what I read on the “apology.” It only deepened what I was feeling and what my friends were feeling.

10 fucking months Shelby took to recover from this relationship. And all she gets is “whoops I was an asshole but therapy!!”

Physical, emotional, and financial abuse. And we only have what she said on stream, apparently not even half of it.

She’s right to not accept his apology.

She deserves so much better and I am so happy fans are providing her support and showing just how proud they are that she was able to come out with this story.

I’ve seen many realizing that they are in or have been in relationships like this through Shelby. And though this should never be something that happens, being able to spread awareness, prevent these types of things from happening to other people, and shutting down an abuser is just. I’m glad at least a few good things came out of that horrid relationship.

My heart goes out to Shelby and any other victims.

This is not all I wanted to say but with the progression of this rant there’s nowhere to really put them.

That is all.

Support victims, fuck Wilbur Soot, send all love and support to Shubble.

Thank you for reading my rant.

#clarity’s ramblings #fuck wilbur soot #wilbur soot #wilbur situation #shubble #shelby shubble #shelby graces #support victims #ranting #rant post #serious post

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transmutationisms · 2 years ago

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What do you think each of the kids are fundamentally motivated by? Obviously they’re all motivated by their father’s approval but Kendall & Shiv (for example) display an actual drive for power Roman lacks. Roman is in turn motivated by familial belonging & affection that Kendall is somewhat motivated by but not really. Not sure what Connor is motivated by but he seems like a (relatively) chill guy.

that's so funny. i think connor is fucking insane. the thing about connor is like, yeah he knows logan thinks he's a loser and would never in a million years give him the company, so he doesn't even bother trying for it, but in every other possible way he has 0 chill and legiterally sees himself as some kind of be-toga'd greek warrior wielding an ak and a boar-hunting spear in one hand and napoleon's beef-jerkied cock in the other. he lives on a ranch in the american west because he thought he could manifest destiny his way into logan's heart but then he named it after a piece of napoleonica because he doesn't understand political signifiers and also no one comes to visit him so he has to be boy besties with his loser ass fertiliser neighbour and wheedle willa into keeping him company. his political platform is antisemitism and believing that cum and money are the same thing, which is why he needs to preserve both and use them only in an appropriately productive manner, except he has no kids and literally throws away millions on a terrible play to continue buying willa's attention even though he thinks theatre is like, culturally degenerate. he's literally running for president because daddy wouldn't hand him an empire and he thinks he can take the reins of a different one, and also he's doing that with a shitlib dc think-tanker he offered the state department to when he was supposed to be ass kissing for waystar. at any given moment he's like 5 seconds from going beast mode and he also can't bear to euthanise a dying dog and his father decided he had no value as a kid and now he financially contracts his girlfriend but has to pretend she's anything other than a courtesan. by the way he used to have a ponytail and drop acid in the desert, he owns 30,000 acres of wilderness, and he would rather see his dead dad cryogenically frozen and techno-futuristically resurrected than buried wearing a kilt.

sorry i thought too hard about connor roy and entered a fugue state. anyway, to be reductive, kendall wants to become logan, but more well-liked. the heir with the flair. shiv wants to become logan, but morally superior. what if a good person ran waystar. roman wants to be loved by logan, and uses the business as a means to that end. you and me up in a little pod above the city, fucking startups and shitting on pension funds. connor wants to be noticed by logan but it's too late for that so he'll settle for prowling around his empty apartment talking to his ghost. i don't need love it's like a superpower.

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tallaxia · 9 months ago

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Death Machine article with director Stephen Norrington, Brad Dourif & Ely Pouget

Cinefantastique #26 - 1995

Brad Dourif creates the mother of all rampaging robots.

The mother of all psycho robots roamed the corridors of Pinewood Studios, England from September 2, 1993, for 12 weeks. But the 20-foot tall, cable-controlled star of DEATH MACHINE mav look vaguely familiar. Like a giant metallic version of the Alien from Rid¬ ley Scott’s 1979 science-fiction classic? "Well sort of,” replied director Stephen Norrington adding, "It’s like ROBOCOP, TERMINATOR and HARDWARE too! That’s why it got financed in the first place. But while DEATH MACHINE is in the same area as all of those genre movies, it has emerged from that place with a unique style and humor to become its own separate entity.” Trimark Pictures has picked up the film’s U.S. video and technical rights for release later this year.

Norrington makes his directorial debut with this selfpenned chiller after years of gaining a formidable reputation as one of Britain's best special effects masters. He began as Rick Baker’s runner on GREYSTOKE and has since worked on numerous blockbusters including ALIENS, RETURN TO OZ and YOUNG SHERLOCK HOLMES. "After GREMLINS 2 I began losing interest in effects,” explained Norrington. "I started writing scripts with effects twists and the third one I came up with was DEATH MACHINE.” By 1990 however, Norrington hadn't got very far in attracting any financial interest in his new ambition so he joined the ALIEN special effects crew “just to keep my hand in” and then accepted an offer to supervise SPLIT SECOND. While working on that futuristic actioncr, producer Laura Gregory showed interest in one of Norringlon’s other scripts. SPEEDER, as a possible sequel for Rutger Hauer. (The script: Norrington’s TERMINATOR meets A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, is now planned as a follow-up to DEATH MACHINE.) The interest led Norrington to meet future DEATH MACHINE producer Vic Bateman (Japan's Victor Company head), who handled the world sales for SPLIT SECOND.

Noted Dominic Anciano, who produced DEATH MACHINE with Bateman and had a massive European success with Peter Medak’s THE KRAYS, "Vic thought Norrington ’s writing and ideas were very commercial and urged me to take him seriously. Because SPEEDER was apparently all tied up with Laura Gregory, I asked Stephen what else he had written and was given DEATH MACHINE. I thought it was so unusual for a British writer to be that succinct in his writing, that passionate about directing, 1 felt I had to give him the chance and let him make it his way. DEATH MACHINE is the sort of movie audiences worldwide want to see and we seem to have a commercial knack for making them in Britain.”

Co-financed by Japan’s Victor Company and Britain’s Entertainment Film Distributors (the latter produced SLIP STREAM), the $3 million DEATH MACHINE is set in the 21st century and focuses on nightmare events taking place behind the closed doors of the Chaank Weapons Corporation. The company has appointed a new female Chief Executive, Hayden Cale (Ely Pouget), to ensure they remain the leader of the techno-armament pack. But she wants to fire their number one asset Jack Dante, a neo-hippie whose dark genius for weaponry design is the envy of the industry. However, Dante is a childlike psychopath incapable of making the distinction between right and wrong after years of watching hardcore cartoon violence on television and decides he isn’t going without a fight. The result is the invention of his most destructive instrument ever…the unstoppable DEATH MACHINE.

Norrington pointed out, "It’s a hybrid of a million things I love; maniacs, actor Brad Dourif [who plays Dante], psycho robots, corporate nightmares, DIE HARD action and huge hi-tech sets. And that’s only naming a few. It’s your average ‘Crazed cyborg on the rampage menacing great looking people' saga!” Added Norrington more seriously, "While DEATH MACHINE is grim with some blood and gore, it isn't a splatter movie. Underneath the surface it’s about losing one’s innocence and how you become dehumanized if you are involved in an industry dealing with destruction. Do such inventors ever think about what they’re doing in real terms? Does their judgment have a guilty edge? This is about that turning off point taken to the most horrifying extreme.”

It was this edge in Norrington’s script which stirred Brad Dourif’s stomach a little. "And when that happens, it’s a sign of good material,” noted the voice of Chucky from the CHILD’S PLAY movie series and star of BODY PARTS and GRAVEYARD SHIFT. "The main point of interest for me was the cartoon connection. Dante is so tuned into animation and the mass media, he mimics everything he sees. I m taking a lot of acting risks playing this part because his responses are all so unreal and based on recognizable things. Dante responds more to TV than people. He’s a villain but a hard one to hate."

Many of the crew have noted how Dourif’s on-screen identity resembles Norrington's own off-screen look. Dourif nodded sagely, "There arc numerous similarities between Dante and Stephen. It’s his personal story about the problems we will all face when the world becomes even more industrialized. 1 can honestly say that Stephen is the best director I’ve ever worked with. It’s the era of first-timers and I've had an incredible run of them. Stephen is better equipped than most to direct this sort of movie because of his visual eye, love of the genre and his special effects background."

For Ely Pougct, the attraction was the weird twisted logic of DEATH MACHINE. The actress who appeared in the recent DARK SHADOWS TV series noted, “In Hayden’s backstory, she was responsible for the death of a child. So hunting and trying to kill the ‘childlike’ Dante causes her major psychological traumas. However, I'm definitely the tough Sigourney Weaver figure in DEATH MACHINE. Despite the script's hard as nails exterior, Stephen has put in a softness, an underlying sadness allying it more to KING KONG and FRANKENSTEIN than the obvious hi-tech equivalents.”

“The fine acting from Brad and Ely has made DEATH MACHINE less derivative than I expected in truth,” admitted Norrington on the Pinewood soundstage where the glass Chaank offices have been created. He added, “Their unique characterizations have added some real potent surprises above those contained in the script. It's less reliant on hard-tech gimmicks than I anticipated and far more bizarre than I ever imagined. I see it as a more thoughtful cross between Sam Raimi horror slapstick and James Cameron energetic action."

Norrington loves those two directors. It’s the reason he included them in a script peppered with familiar names for the leading characters; Scott Ridley, Carpenter and, of course, Dante are other examples. Plagiarism as an art form!” said Norrington. "I wrote the script when I was still a frothing fan boy. Then someone pointed out Fred Dekker had done exactly the same thing in NIGHT OF THE CREEPS. How uncool! 1 ditched a few references after finding that out.”

Responsible for the special effects in Norrington’s feature debut is Creature Effects (CFX for short) an all-British outfit consisting of Dave Elsey, Cliff Wallace, Alan Hedgecock and Brendan Lonergan who together and separately have worked on numerous high profile movies including NIGHTBREED, RETURN OF THE JEDI and WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT. Norrington chose CFX mainly because he knew them, and their work, personally.

Constructing the Death Machine fell to Animated Extras, the prosthetic/ mechanics company owned by Daniel Parker and Nick Williams who worked on the Indiana Jones film scories, ENEMY MINE and MARY SHELLEY’S FRANKENSTEIN. They worked from Norrington’s design marquette for the killer robot. "The fullsize construction was so big and heavy it needed 12 people on the controls to make it move,” said Parker.

So was directing harder or easier than Norrington expected? He gave a wry smile and said, “I’d directed some award winning commercials and promos before DEATH MACHINE. Anyone could do it. I’m living proof that directing, in the words of the immortal, god-like James Cameron, is criminally easy. The only challenge I’ve faced had to do with time and money: staying at a consistently high quality on such a short schedule.”

#death machine #brad dourif #jack dante #interview #stephen norrington #magazine scan #ely pouget #hayden cale #90s sci-fi #90s horror #horror movies

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