#today is rather basic but oh well this one planned itself

[lovethytendytenderly]

Somebody Told Me by The Killers // an edit a day til penguins hockey, a countdown (day 27)

x

[y-rhywbeth2]

Gods and Clergy: Bhaal (OBSOLETE)

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Religion | Gods | Shar | Selûne | X | Mystra | Jergal | Bane #1 | Bane #2 | Bane #3 | Myrkul | Lathander | Kelemvor | Tyr | Helm | Ilmater | Mielikki | Oghma | Gond | Tempus | Silvanus | Talos | Umberlee | Corellon | Moradin | Yondalla | Garl Glittergold | Eilistraee | Lolth | Laduguer | Gruumsh | Bahamut | Tiamat | Amodeus | The rest of the Faerûnian Pantheon --WIP

I did an updated and much longer version here; this one is significantly less detailed and lacking.

I'm in a Durge and Orin mood, so we're getting the full details on Bhaal and his priesthood now. Fun fact, did you know the Dark Urge couldn't even die without Daddy's permission?

Featuring:

Intro: Do you realise this cult is basically a crime syndicate supported by the rich and powerful?

Priests: Hierarchy. Responsibilities. Murder. I rather like the ceremonial regalia, personally.

Deathstalkers: Teleporting! Killing people with your mind! Unlimited ressurections courtesy of Bhaal!! And yet more crazy shit!

Bhaal: Kitten thinks of nothing but murder all day. Also mortal backstory and the Slayer is absolutely nothing like the games depict it

Right then, "Bhaal awaits thee," and blah.

"Make all folk fear Bhaal. Let your killings be especially elegant, or grisly, or seem easy so that those observing them are awed or terrified. Tell folk that gold proffered to the church can make the Lord of Murder overlook them for today." - Bhaal's Dogma

Unsurprisingly for an ex-assassin, Bhaal is the patron god of assassins. Assassins, mercenaries, bounty hunters who aren't bringing their quarry in alive and, presumably, executioners all tend to send a prayer to Bhaal for success. Faithful were called Bhaalyn in the East and Bhaalists in the West. As BG3 takes place in Western Faerûn we'll use the latter.

Amongst these assassin worshippers we find the oh-so healthy individuals for whom killing is more than a job. These killers who regard their murders as a "pastime and a duty" join the clergy.

That said, Bhaalists do not murder indiscriminately. The taking of another life is a holy act, a lot of thought and planning goes into both the kill itself as well as what impact the death may have upon the world. Once the target is slain, they are to smear the victim's blood over their hands and draw Bhaal's symbol by the body with it. If Bhaal is pleased then the blood will vanish.

Bhaal supports and encourages his followers attaining wealth and comfort (it's a good hook to draw them in, and it makes him look good if his followers are successful, and more importantly: money is power, provides a shield against repercussions when caught, and opens doors), and in exchange for their worship his priest-assassins receive the priest spells and administer to the lay worshippers, who benefit second-hand. The assassins have an easier time killing people and getting rich and Bhaal profits from more prayer and death. A win for everyone (who didn't die in the process).

Bhaalist temples historically have spent their time founding and sponsoring guilds of assassins and thieves, including infamous organisations such as the Shadow Thieves of Amn. These guilds survived their patron's death, and while they were mostly businesses throughout the years of Bhaal's death many still paid homage (although there was some confusion involving his replacement, Cyric) and have presumably resumed worship. There's a massive old temple still functioning over in Thay; the Tower of Swift Death, and the assassins work closely with the Red Wizards who rule the country.

Bhaalists have no tolerance for rival guilds and organisations not following Bhaal (which would make them independent of their control) and will eliminate them. They will also root out anybody in the area that will attempt to oppose or otherwise interfere in their business and ensure they have freedom to go about their jobs/worship.

Their other job is to ensure the church has a steady income. They terrorise the commoners into paying tithes in exchange for safety from being sacrificed this tenday (a protection racket, basically) while leaving "economically and socially important individuals live unharmed." I mean, the peasantry have far less enemies to assassinate and gold to spend, so. Plus the rich and powerful are brilliant at turning a blind eye to crime when it benefits them, as well as making sure the evidence never sees the light of day - know which side your bread is buttered on, and all. Baldur's Gate has no law against the worship of Bhaal. Why do you think the original temple exists, after all? Bhaalists actively seek out and sway such potential patrons who would be... amenable to sponsoring and protecting their technically-legal church and its not so-legal activities in exchange for their services.

Urban temples of Bhaal are usually dark, subterranean affairs built under the city streets, containing countless branching tombs that are home to the bodies of the clergy's victims - said victims are usually wandering around down there as restless undead.

-

Bhaal's clergy can be recognised as Bhaalists by their ceremonial robes - full body robes of black or deep purple with a deep cowl. The robes will be randomly and violently streaked with flashes of violet. Their entire face is fully obscured by a black veil, to both hide their identity and make it appear as though the hood is empty for the intimidation factor.

The leader of the church - and thus all of the temples - in a region is the High Primate/Primistress, who can be identified by a red belt/sash they wear over their robes and the fancy curved ceremonial dagger that marks them as a high ranking priest and a specialty priest known as a Deathstalker - more about them in a moment.

High Primates spent much of their time planning the proper strategies of manipulating nearby rulers, inhabitants, and organizations into the deeds and behaviour that the Bhaalyn desired.

The head of a single temple is a Primate or Primistress. The Primate is directly served by the First Deaths, who in turn can call upon a council of the nine most senior clergy; the Cowled Deaths. Below them were the regular priests, who were known collectively as the Deathdealers and are referred to by the title Slaying Hand. A Bhaalist rises in the ranks by hunting and ritually killing a target with nothing but their bare hands, which they will then report to a higher ranking priest who will confirm that they are being truthful. If they are then there's a party, and a ritual sacrifice is held to celebrate.

When on a job they dress in black - in the form that suits whatever their preferred method of killing in. Leather armour, mage robes, whatever.

Bhaalists pray to their god before sleep. In the temple the entire congregation comes together to pray in a formal ceremony called "Day's Farewell"). Bhaalists are also to pray before setting out on a murder.

Bhaalists only observe one holy day. It's the Feast of the Moon, a continent-wide holiday for honouring the dead and honouring one's ancestors. Bhaalists have their own spin on it where they remember dead Bhaalists and celebrate with stories of murder to honour them.

All Bhaalists are to commit a murder every tenday at midnight, should they be unable to fulfil this duty then they are to kill two people in place of the one who should've died that day. Before the victim dies, the murderer is to ensure that they know their killer and that they died as a sacrifice to the God of Death; "Bhaal awaits thee, Bhaal embraces thee, none escape Bhaal."

-

The specialty priests of Bhaal, those who dedicate their devotion and worship no god other than him, are the Deathstalkers.

One does not have to be a cleric to join the ranks, though the majority are. Rogues, rangers, barbarians and fighters are the most common, but all classes make an appearance (and most are multiclassed clerics)

To become a Deathstalker one must have murdered sixteen sapient creatures in sixteen different methods with sixteen different weapons. This presumably is also the rite of passage to becoming a member of the Brethren of the Keen Strike - an order of Bhaalist assassins to which all Deathstalkers belong.

Distressingly for people who aren't Bhaalist, Bhaal's Deathstalkers regained their Bhaalist abilities around 1372 DR, following the end of the Bhaalspawn Crisis, and resumed their duties, spreading death and terror in his name as they worked to bring him back to full power. The most popular argument for how the priests of a dead deity were getting their spells is that another god - likely Cyric, was granting them spells disguised as Bhaal. However, in the wake of the Bhaalspawn Crisis and the wave of fear felt towards Bhaal that resulted (which counts as prayer), the rumour mill became very fond of the idea that, despite how the crisis ended, Bhaal had still managed to resurrect at least some scrap of himself through that fear and the God of Murder was haunting the Realms once more.

The various abilities Bhaal gifts to his Deathstalkers include the following:

[From 3.5e] The ability to identify key weaknesses in a target by studying them for only a few moments, killing them in a single strike. They are also supernaturally good at stabbing people with their ceremonial daggers.

[3.5e] The ability to tap into the hatred of a person, stoking it into homicidal rage and direct it at another person who they will kill in a mindless bloody rage (also called the Urge to Slay, an ability Bhaal himself has)

[3.5e] Bhaal's own inability to just fucking stay dead - a Deathstalker Bhaal doesn't want dead will come back to life an hour after it is killed, with a single hit point left. During the time prior to resurrection they are an actual corpse.

[2e] They can point at a person, sending necrotic energy coursing through them and causing them significant damage, agony and possibly death.

[2e] They can inflict severe wounds on a person just by thinking it.

[2e] They can teleport! A Deathstalker can teleport themselves (and other people, if they're powerful enough) to the Throne of Blood and from there they can teleport to anywhere on Toril that isn't protected by warding magic. Bhaal won't do anything to protect Deathstalkers while they're in the Lower Planes - if you're strong enough to get yourself here, you're strong enough to get yourself out.

[2e] They can affect the emotions of those around them, reversing whatever emotions an individual is feeling towards them into its polar opposite.

[2e] They can accelerate the entropic aging process of objects.

-

Bhaal himself is "violent, cruel and hateful at all times." Being in the presence of the living fills him with an overwhelming urge to kill and destroy. He presents himself as either on the verge of a violent rampage or cold and ruthlessly calculating depending on which suits the occasion best. A Lawful Evil deity, his domain is the Throne of Blood in the first layer of the Lower Plane of Gehenna (Khalas), part of Bane's domain (Banehold). Hilariously, not a single Baldurs Gate game has got this right. BG2:SoA claimed it was the Hells, BG2:ToB changed to the Abyss and, for some reason, BG3 has put it in the Grey Wastes.

Bhaal served Bane, and was in turn served by Loviatar (goddess of pain) and Talona (goddess of disease).

His holy symbol is the Circle of Tears; clue in the name, it's a skull surrounded by teardrops of blood forming a circle.

Bhaal rarely manifested in avatar form. When he did, his main avatar in urban areas was the Slayer, which was not a four armed scaly monster:

"The Slayer look[s] like a corpse with a feral face, [bloodless] skin, and deep lacerations that endlessly [weep] black ichor that vanish[es] before it strikes anything."

It makes no noise at all when it moves. it can talk (its softly spoken and sounds creepy). It can levitate at will and summon floating daggers made of bone, that appeared and disappeared at will. They would cause any living flesh they hit to wither and die. Creatures slain this way would rise again as zombies under its control - or have its skeleton shattered into more bone daggers. Enough of these daggers form an area-of-effect; a wall made of a flurry of sharp shards of bone that would trap the soul of anyone they killed. Oh, yeah, and the Slayer can also inflict the overwhelming urge to murder everyone around you on the people around it.

Bhaal's other avatar was the Ravager, which was mostly an angry 30-foot tall giant with horns.

While in either avatar form, Bhaal also had the ability to create any form of undead loyal to him by touching a corpse (greater undead like vampires would be free once they'd completed whatever task he'd assigned them). He could also immediately destroy any undead, turning them to dust at a touch. Bhaal cannot be harmed by the undead.

Rather than using his avatars, Bhaal usually just manifested as a pair of flying undead hands that can shoot bone daggers at people. Or a laughing human skull trailing teardrops. Both these manifestations are capable of speech, casting darkness and driving everybody into a mindless bloodthirsty rampage - you might have noticed he really loves this trick.

He also invented his own undead monsters, the Harrla of Hate. Harrla are invisible creatures, which if you use magic to see them appear like human shaped wavering impressions. Guess what they do?? If you guessed "fill people with a sense of overpowering hatred and drive people into committing homicide" get yourself a fucking cookie!! (This isn't said anywhere in canon, but Bhaal has less imagination than a chunk of rock, I swear to god...)

According to one version of the story; in life Bhaal was a Netherese mortal wizard named Tharlagaunt Bale. He was one of a few hand picked by Jergal to bear a fragment of the god's divinity and raised from a young age to serve him (a Chosen, basically). Hilariously, one of the others was Karsus. These Chosen were promised godhood for their service as they set about performing a ritual to increase Jergal's waning power and make him one of the most powerful deities. Karsus chose to try and make himself a god instead and blew up the Weave, destroying Netheril and the plan and killing all of his coworkers except Bale.

Bale got a job as an assassin, changed the spelling to Bhaal and dropped his first name, teamed up with a bitter ex-slave with no name except the title "Bane of the Ancients" and a necromancer prince called Myrkul Bey al-Kursi.

His other backstory features him as Arabhal; the spymaster and chief assassin of the Netherese City of Rdiuz, and an ally of Bane. The two became unwitting paws of Jergal, who directed them through nightmares to do his bidding and slay various primordial divinities who threatened his plans.

Regardless of backstory, they all grabbed more divinity by killing an ancient god (also Bane's ex-master) and then he went knocking on his old boss' door for that godhood he was promised (Jergal at this point had embraced depression and just went "yeah, whatever, have it. Idgaf, I'm retiring." Or was manipulating them into becoming his divine pawns. There's more than one take on this story.) and Bhaal walked off the god of murder.

He learned of a prophecy predicting he would die when his stupid ex-travelling companions would decide to piss of Ao who would then kick all the gods out and make them mortal, and Bhaal then decided to sleep with what seems to be at least 25% of Faerûn to produce kids who would hold fragments of himself so that they could all fight to the death and he could resurrect himself afterwards. He was killed by the soon-to-be-god Cyric not far from Baldur's Gate during the Time of Troubles. Cyric proceeded to take his job, and there was a huge fight between Bhaalists who converted and those who didn't and the converts killed all the holdouts.

The rest of the backstory is basically just the original Baldur's Gate games.

[youunravelme]

jealousy jealousy

author’s note: hi...remember that time i wrote 2 fics and then disappeared? yeah me neither. i promise i’m still here, just trying to figure out life and force myself to write rather than just consume. this is already way too personal for strangers on the internet...anyway, here’s wonderwall (aka the jack x figure skater fic that no one asked for, this takes place in the figure skater universe that i have not written yet).

(oh and if you’re wondering, andrew is your figure skating partner)

jack hughes x figure skater!reader

warnings: nhl violence, cursing

him

it’s not that he hated andrew, it was just he wished he was the only one leaving bruises on your thighs. or the only one who got to kiss your cheek. jack watched from the stands as you two glided across the ice. he’d come to appreciate figure skating in the months you’d been dating ever since you’d forced him to try some of the basics of your sport and he’d fallen on his ass more times than he could count.

so it didn’t bother him, going to your performances, and watching you skate. he just hated how in love you looked when you gazed at andrew. or the way your legs would wrap around his head when just the night before--

he was getting ahead of himself.

at the end of the performance, when your smile was wider than the equator, an older woman to his left said, quite loudly if you asked him, to her friend. “i’m so glad they kept skating together after the break up, it would’ve been a shame to lose such chemistry.”

i’m sorry. 

what?

to say he was pissed when he saw you was an understatement. andrew’s arm around your waist just added fuel to the fire simmering in his chest. it made him want to throw away the bouquet of tulips he got you.

“what’d ya think?” you asked him with the biggest smile on your face, the silver medal dangling from your neck.

“you did great,” he stated, handing the flowers off to you. “can i talk to you?” he glanced at andrew and then the hand that still had not removed itself from your waist. “alone?”

you furrowed your brows but nodded anyway. you squeezed andrew’s arm and mumbled a thank you with a bright smile before following jack into a secluded part of the rink.

“what’s up, baby?”

“were you ever planning on telling me you dated andrew? or were you gonna just keep me in the dark about that?” your face dropped. guess he got his answer. “right. i’ll see you later.” jack moved around you, but your hand grabbed his arm gently.

“jack please, listen i didn’t think it was a big deal--”

“you didn’t think it was important for me to know that the person you spend the most time with, aside from me, is your ex?”

“you didn’t disclose all your exes either!”

“i’m not shoving my crotch in my ex’s face every day, nor am i making goo goo eyes at them for the entire world to see!” you didn’t say anything to that, so he took it as his cue to leave. “you did great tonight,” he said. “but i got to get home. i have a game tomorrow to prepare for.”

he walked away from you, and didn’t bother turning back, not even when andrew passed him and presumably went to your comfort. he didn’t get to see you reject andrew’s hug in favor of pressing the tulips closer to your chest.

when he got home, jack immediately called quinn. “do you have time to talk?”

“would you care if i said no?”

jack paused. “no. look this is an emergency.”

“shoot.”

“so you know the figure skater i’ve been dating?”

quinn hummed. “nice girl.”

“and you know how she has a male partner that she performs with, right?” quinn hummed again. “well apparently they used to date for like two years.”

“she told you that?”

“no, i found out through some random lady’s comment at her performance today. and then i got on the internet and well, i found out they dated for two years.”

“oh.”

“yeah, ‘oh’ is right. i mean why would she keep something like this from me? i’ve been honest, i’ve been working on myself because i thought i was crazy for thinking they had feelings for each other but they used to and hey, maybe they still do--”

“jack, you’re getting ahead of yourself. she’s with you, she likes you.”

“but what if he likes her? they spend all their time together, how am i gonna compete with that?”

quinn sighed into the receiver. “look, i’m by no means saying she should’ve kept this from you, because that’s a shitty thing to do. but as far as i can see? there’s no competition. you’ve already won. you got the girl, okay? he didn’t.”

jack wanted to agree, that at the end of the day, they chose each other. but he still couldn’t get over the thought of andrew’s hands and where they’ve been.

you

okay so you fucked up.

big time.

to be honest, you completely forgot about your past with andrew, seeing as most of it was overshadowed by over a decade of close friendship. but seeing the betrayal on jack’s face made everything ten times worse.

which is why you hesitated on going to his game that night only because you couldn’t decide if not showing up would make things worse or better. you came with andrew, which in hindsight was not the best decision you could’ve ever made, but when the new jersey devils asked you and your partner do to the ceremonial puck drop, your agent made it clear saying no would be a bad idea.

so you texted jack to give him a heads up that the both of you would be there and dropping the puck on orders of your agent but that you would still be watching the game afterward if he wanted you there.

he didn’t reply.

a knock on your door alerted you to andrew’s presence. so you scooped up your purse and put your platform high tops on before grabbing your keys and heading out.

“still nothing?” andrew asked. you shook your head. “do you think he’s being a little dramatic? i mean, he never shared all his exploits with his exes--”

“but he didn’t date a teammate, andrew.” you cut him off. “look, i get you’re trying to be supportive, but i’m in the wrong here.” andrew followed you down the stairs and out to his car.

“would it help if i told him i’m gay?”

“you mean would lying help? absolutely not.” andrew unlocked his car and you both hopped in. “do you need directions?”

andrew laughed. “i think i know where prudential is.”

you held up your hands and looked out the window as you tried to think of ways to somehow make the situation better.

or rather, keep from making it worse.

by the time you arrived at the arena, you were a basket case of nerves, suddenly second guessing every decision you made up to this point. “should i have just worn a t-shirt like you instead of his jersey? i’m wondering if i’m overstepping here.”

“look, there are few things that men love more than seeing their significant others in their clothes.”

“but does that rule apply to when you’re arguing?”

“it could!” andrew stopped you in your tracks, right before entering the arena, with his hands on your shoulders. “look, it’ll be okay. after tonight, if you only wanna hang out when we have practice until it all settles down, that’s fine by me.”

you looked at andrew and then back at the arena.

“okay.”

him

“hughesy, is there a reason your girlfriend asked me who is doing the puck drop?” nico asked him once jack walked into the locker room.

“she texted me earlier, i just haven’t replied. she’s doing it along with andrew,” he grumbled.

“trouble in paradise?”

“it’s a long story. and i don’t really want to talk about it,” he said as he pulled his gear on.

“you sure? might help to clear your head. if you’d like, you can do the puck drop if you want to see her--”

“--nope, i’m fine.” he sat down to put his skates on and stayed silent.

it wasn’t until they got onto the ice that jack started to calm down a little. the rink was his home, a place he could let go. he wasn’t worried about the problems in your relationship at the moment, not when he was playing one of the devils’ biggest rivals: the philadelphia flyers.

the team took a break from the warm ups to have the carpets rolled out for you and andrew. he couldn’t even look at you as you walked out, the announcer sharing all the accomplishments you share with andrew.

he stood to the side, ignoring the jabs from his teammates at the sight of you smiling and laughing. the thought alone had him consider forgiving you, until he glanced up right as andrew nudged you and the jealousy came back with a fiery vengeance. 

it only got worse when he saw nico give you a bear hug and in return you gave him an award winning smile.

honestly.

were you not even torn up about the situation you were in?

you

god, even looking at him hurt.

he didn’t even do you the courtesy of making eye contact, you would know, your eyes had only left his figure to smile at cameras or greet nico or the flyers’ alternate captain. maybe, if jack decided he actually wanted to be with you still, you could ask him who the hell that guy was.

when you and andrew turned around, he held the puck out for you. “you want it?” he asked.

you shook your head. “i’d rather have one that jack gave me, than remember the night he ignored me the entire time.”

him

was that his jersey you were wearing?

honestly he spent so much time trying not to look at you that the 86 on your sleeve didn’t pop out at him until you turned around and his teammates started catcalling at the sight of his last name on your back.

“that your girl, hughes? or just a fan?” mercer teased.

“shut up,” jack grumbled, but the heat in his cheeks was telling enough. he watched as you made your way back to the stands before he had to focus on getting his mind ready for the game, and much of that included forgetting what happened the day prior.

which he would love nothing more than to do.

you

“is this your first game wearing his jersey?” andrew asked as you took your seats.

you nodded, nervously wringing your hands as you watched him sit on the bench cheering on his teammates. there was no reason for you to be that nervous, but you couldn’t help but feel antsy anyway.

“hey,” andrew started. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, maybe i’m still upset at myself? or scared he’ll break things off with me?”

your partner laughed. “that boy is too in love with you to break up after one incident. besides, you didn’t cheat you just--”

“forgot to tell him a key piece of information.”

“look, it’s not like you kept it from him maliciously. and given time, he’ll understand that.”

“i guess you’re--” you cut yourself off when jack got on the ice, your nerves shooting up tenfold. you watched him like a hawk, even if he didn’t have the puck.

hell, you weren’t even sure if andrew was talking to you because of how dialed in you were.

you didn’t move, you weren’t even sure you were breathing, until he scored, not even two minutes into being on the ice. you jumped from your seat and screamed, probably looking like a maniac or a fangirl.

you would consider yourself both at that point.

you watched as his teammates came up to hug him and slap his helmet. he spared a glance in your direction, giving you enough time to smile and give him a little wave. you fully expected him to ignore you like he’d done all night, but when his hand lifted up and waved back, you were on cloud nine.

the game started back up again and so did your excitement. 

until jack was slammed against the boards across the rink from you. if it weren’t for andrew’s hand holding your forearm in your seat, you would’ve jumped and yelled at the refs to do something.

“that’s not fair!” you shouted.

“it’s hockey,” andrew said like that was explanation enough.

“and? he just body checked him! jack is like 115 pounds soaking wet and that man--”

“--farabee--”

“--has like fifty pounds on him!”

“he actually doesn’t.” you whipped your head at andrew, ready to yell at him. “look, jack is fine. that’s why they wear pads. it’d be concerning if he was wearing a leotard like you and getting bodychecked, okay? this is the nature of the game.”

you crossed your arms. “i think it’s bullshit.”

him

he really hated farabee. and maybe hate was a strong word, but it felt like every two seconds he was getting checked into the boards which would’ve been fine if you weren’t there to see it happen.

“c’mon hughes, this is getting embarrassing.” was farabee’s latest quip of the night. and while he was no stranger to trash talk, something about the glint in farabee’s eyes was getting under jack’s skin. “that your girl right there?” he pointed to you while your brows were furrowed and head tilted. it would’ve been cute had farabee’s sudden interest in you not sent a cold chill down jack’s spine.

“shut up,” he grumbled before shoving his way past farabee in pursuit of the puck. but joel kept after him.

“she’s a looker, don’t ya think? how’d you manage to hit that?” jack’s fists clenched. “be honest, did you have to bribe her to go out with you? how much it cost? she looks like she’d be a good time--”

jack shoved him up against the boards. “shut the fuck up,” he all but growled before skating off.

keep your cool, jack. he’s just an asshole, you’ve dealt with assholes before.

he had the puck and was about to shoot before he was checked again, this time the wind being knocked from his lungs as joel stood over him. “go sit on the bench, hughes, while i go show your puck bunny a good time.”

that was it.

jack stood as quickly as he could and shucked his gloves off. 

you

horror was the only word you could use to describe the feeling that came over you as jack threw the first punch. you’d seen many of his games, often going back and watching clips on youtube, and never once have you seen him fight.

until today.

you were on your feet, clutching andrew’s arm, your fingernails digging into his arm. “oh my god,” you breathed.

you weren’t sure your jaw could drop any more than it already was. jack’s helmet came off first, but the other guy, “farabee” according to andrew, hit the ground first. jack was yanked down a second later.

if you were strong enough to break the glass, you would’ve just to get to him. because the punches didn’t stop, there was red on the ice, and you weren’t sure who was bleeding.

you hoped it was the other guy.

the refs split them up pretty quickly after farabee hit the ground. jack got up with blood trickling from his nose and lip, but looked otherwise unharmed. you didn’t care enough to look at the other guy.

“and keep her name out your mouth,” jack yelled across the ice as a ref ushered him to the penalty box.

your brow furrowed. surely he wouldn’t be dumb enough to...

you glanced at andrew who looked just as flabbergasted. “was that over...?” you trailed off.

“you or his mom,” andrew shrugged. a beat passed. “told you that toothpick loves you.”

him

his head felt ready to explode. though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the blood pumping from his nose or the rage he felt just a few seconds ago. but as the metaphorical dust settled, he searched the crowd for you only to find your eyes already on him.

you okay? you mouthed.

he nodded and drew his attention back to the game. he couldn’t look at you too long before getting angry again, this time, not at you but at the reminder of what farabee had said about you.

you might scold him for it later, in fact, if he was a betting man, he would’ve put money on the fact that you would, but it didn’t matter to him. normal trash talk was fine but involving you? poking an already open wound?

but he didn’t have time to worry about it, he’d figure it out after the game when he could touch your skin and assure himself that you wouldn’t leave him for someone else.

the second he was released back into the game, he came back with a vengeance. the fight wasn’t enough, he was going to score as many points as he could to beat their asses into the ground.

he was going to do it.

you

there was no way jack was human. or at least, not a superhero of some kind. there had to be some higher power that possessed your boyfriend’s body because he was a very good hockey player?

but that night? he was next level.

by the end of the game, he’d scored 4 points alone, and assisted nico in the one other point made by someone who wasn’t him. when the final buzzer blew, the score was 5-2, with new jersey taking the win.

“your boyfriend is insane!” andrew yelled over the cheers.

you smiled. “i know.”

the both of you walked towards the locker rooms, flashing your lanyard at security to let you through. 

“do you want me to wait for you?” andrew asked.

you shook your head. “i’ll get jack to take me home.”

“and if he doesn’t?”

“he will. especially when he finds out you left me.” andrew hugged you goodbye and departed towards the parking lot while you waited for jack to walk by. nico was first, smiling and hugging you quickly before heading back to the locker rooms. jack’s other teammates file out and wave, some stopping to give you a fist bump. 

unsurprisingly because fate was funny like that, jack was one of the last to head your direction. part of you seized up with fear, wondering if he was still mad about andrew, but the smile he gave you relaxed your shoulders.

jack dropped his helmet and stick in favor of holding you close. he held you tighter than normal, an arm around your waist, a hand in your hair, his face in your neck. 

“you okay?” you asked, trying to pull back to get a look at his face, but he only squeezed you tighter.

“i’m fine. just glad you’re here,” he mumbled into your neck. a beat passed before he pulled away and just stared at you. “did you drive here?”

you hesitated on telling him the truth, not wanting to ruin the moment but ultimately deciding lying would ruin things further. “i rode with andrew. he went home.” jack’s gaze darkened just a hair. “but i was hoping i could ride home with you.”

he nodded before leaning in to kiss you, pouting when you pulled out of reach. “baby--”

“your lip is split, hughes.”

“so?”

“i don’t wanna hurt you.”

“you’re hurting me now by not kissing me.” you sighed and gave in, your lips meeting his gently. 

“there, you happy?”

“nope,” he said, leaning back in.

“easy there, cowboy,” you laughed into his lips and placed a hand on his chest. “you need to shower.” you wrinkled your nose as the smell hit you finally.

“you mean you don’t love me as i am?” he teased.

you froze. you had yet to say those words but he didn’t seem to notice before someone was calling him away. “go,” you pushed him lightly towards the locker room. “i’ll be here.”

he kissed you one last time before running down the hall with his things.

you patiently waited for the thirty or so minutes it took for jack to get ready and speak with his teammates. he came out freshly showered and smiling despite the split lip.

“you ready?” he asked.

“i was waiting on you,” you replied.

jack rolled his eyes but tossed his arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the side of your head anyway. the both of you stayed silent until you got in the car.

“do you wanna tell me what the fight was about?”

jack’s hand paused over the keys in the ignition before he turned the car on and shifted gears into reverse. “it’s nothing.”

you rolled your eyes. “you mean to tell me you got a split lip over nothing? i thought you valued honesty.”

jack sighed and put the car into drive. “he was making comments about you and i couldn’t stand to listen to them anymore.”

“what did he say?”

jack’s jaw clenched, as did his hands on the steering wheel. “it doesn’t matter. it’s over with.”

“if it bothered you, it matters, jack.”

“i’m not comfortable repeating it,” he said. “it’s over now, let’s just go home.”

you paused. “your home or mine?”

he reached over the center console and held your hand. “mine, if that’s alright.”

you nodded, words failing you for a moment. the air still felt tense, though you weren’t sure if it was from the argument you had or the game itself.

but it was the lack of communication that got you here in the first place, so you spoke up. “are you still mad at me? because i don’t blame you if you are, i just thought i’d ask.”

jack was quiet for a moment, letting your words permeate the air. “not really, but i’m still confused as to why you didn’t tell me you’d dated andrew before.”

some deep-seated part of you wanted to shrug it off, but you knew you might view it as casual, he might take it as being flippant. “it was so long ago,” you started. “and when i look at him, i don’t see my ex, i just see my friend who’s grown up with me.”

he nodded, hand still clutching yours. “what do you see when you look at me?”

you swallowed down the fear building in your chest. you hadn’t said those three words yet, but maybe now was the time? andrew’s words kept repeating in your head. told you that toothpick is in love with you.

you breathed.

“i see the love of my life.”

[creative-caramel-coffee]

First Visions

Pairings: Thornhill x Weems x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: Reader has her first vision and ends up injured and in need of help.

TW: passing out, blood, injury, concussion, talks of vomiting

A/n Part 2 coming soon :)

You sighed softly to yourself. The day was half done at least. You were on your way to the tower on the far side of the school. Somewhere quiet to sit to eat lunch and sketch. Today there was Mac and cheese, and you were determined to make sure you weren’t subject to the torture of the quad on pasta day.

Stepping up the last step you walked into the small room. It had one big window, but it was pretty overcast today so you turned on the lamp you had brought up here a while ago when you first found your little secret spot. Well, it was secret as much as it was inaccessible. Well… it was inaccessible to anyone who didn’t have a lock pick and a good knowledge of how to use it. You however had a lock pick and knew how to use it. Hence why you had your own private office basically. You shared it with nobody.

Weems had actually found you there once. You had explained how the noise and chaos got too much sometimes and so she had given you a key and promised to leave the space to you on a set of conditions. You weren’t allowed to alter it in any way that can't be undone. It was your space to maintain, and no plates were to be left there. And lastly no misuse of the space or taking advantage of her kindness. In return she would look the other way and make sure you didn’t get into trouble.

Since that day you had made the place like home. You had a small lap desk you could use to draw. You had smuggled in a beanbag chair, a lamp, some art supplies, a charger, a few books and lastly a marvel poster of wanda and Natasha standing back-to-back with finger guns drawn. Oh, and your weighted blanket because you had two and one was in your dorm.

You plopped down onto your beanbag which gave a rustle of approval as the foam beads inside settled with a swishing noise like running water. Your let your head fall back and drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly through your mouth. Grabbing your headphones from your bag you put them on and put on some soothing music from your favourite playlist as of late.

You made quick work of the Mac and cheese. Cracking open your sketchbook, you wanted to get in a good session before you had to go to classes. You had a spare next, so you had penalty of time for once.

After what felt like nowhere near enough time at all, you packed up. Standing your popped almost every joint in your back, your bones and muscles relaxing. After shouldering your backpack, you turned to the lamp to switch it off. However, it seemed your body had other plans.

Your family was full of ravens and doves, a long bloodline of sears and witches. You knew it was only a matter of time before your first vision. So, it was only a half surprise when the feeling of static shot up your arm as it touched the wood of the desk. Your body went stiff, and your head snapped back.

The vision itself was rather short. You saw your botany teacher and principal weems in her office. The botanist seemed stressed while weems was trying to calm her down.

The vision shifted to another time and place, you saw yourself. You were laid on the chaise lounge in weems office out cold with a cut on your forehead. The two teachers standing over you as the door burst open. You didn’t see who entered before the vision ended. There it was nothing. Just endless black. Unconscious, you laid in the tower on the floor out cold.

The afternoon classes passed without you. Being sort of a loner meant nobody really seemed to notice your absence. Your friends were in different classes to you that afternoon, so nobody was any wiser to your predicament. After the afternoon and evening passed it was time for lights out and dorm checks.

Ms Thornhill had been having a good day. She went from dorm to dorm making sure all the girls in Ophelia Hall were in bed and ready for the night. Her day however became a little more different when she reached your dorm. Instead of two lumps in the two beds she counted just the one. Your roommate was already fast asleep, and you were nowhere in sight. Thornhill frowned. Making note to see weems once she had tucked in the Addams child for the night.

Which is how she ended up fretting in larissa office just as the headmistress thought she was done for the night.

“Marilyn I’m sure shes fine. Teenagers sneak out all the time. She will be punished but until she comes back there isn’t much we can do short of a search party and until she has been missing for at least five hours i am not prepared to inconvenience more of my staff.” Weems said softening as she took the botanists hand in hers. Thornhill released a shaky breath.

“Your right. She’s just being a teen, i guess. But it's not like her. Something isn’t feeling right about this. She wouldn’t do this. Shes a teen but shes not that teen.”

“If it will help you settle, we can walk around the school and check shes not simply hiding somewhere. I know just where she may be.” Weems said and stood offering her hand to Ms Thornhill who took it and was hauled to her feet.

The pair left and locked the principal's office and began their way to your tower of comfort. Weems frowned as she drew closer, seeing the light in the window. She had told you not to stay they night there. But she didn’t have any knowledge as to why you may be avoiding sleeping in your dorm.

Making her way up the stairs with Marilyn in tow she sighed. However, once she made it into the space, she was both pleasantly and surprised and horrified at what she found. Whilst she loved how you had decorated and maintained the space while conforming to all her rules, she was less pleased at the sight of you unconscious on the floor with dried blood running down your forehead and cheek.

She was quick to be by your side. She checked your pulse and sighed a breath of relief to find it not only strong but well-paced and steady. She felt the back of your head and around your face frowning as she found a bump on your forehead where the cut was. Thornhill was watching slack jawed. Snapping out of her stupor she crouched beside weems.

“We should get her to my office. She most likely has a concussion and will need monitoring tonight.” Weems said, gently scooping you into her arms and off the floor. She shifted you in her arms until your head was resting on her collarbone. The headmistresses' arms under your knees and back as you rested against her out cold.

The two teachers walked silently back to Larissa’s office. The principal mentally reciting what she would be doing once they got back to her office. You laid unmoving in her arms showing no signs of life. Marilyn unlocked the door and helped the principal situate you on the couch.

“Now what?” The botanist asked looking up at weems with a lost expression.

“Now i call the nurse and have Ms L/n here check out for a concussion.” Weems said and pulled out her phone thumbing through her contacts. She found the nurses and made the call.

Marilyn sat by your head and gently used a damp cloth larissa had brought her to clean up all the blood on your face, making the source clearer. You had a cut over your eyebrow that may need stitches or butterfly stitches at least. As she cleaned you up Marilyn periodically checked the rise of fall of your chest to remind herself you were still breathing with how still you were.

By the time the nurse came both teachers were relieved to see you moving about a little more, but your eyes stayed closed. Just as the knock sounded on the wooden doors your eyes fluttered open. Marilyn stroked your hair back as you hazily looked up at her with a cute but confused bleary-eyed expression.

“Hello honey. On time as per usual.” She chuckled as Weems came over with the nurse who set down her bag on the coffee table.

“Whats going on?” You asked still very tired. It was the nurse who responded first, beating both teachers to the punch.

“Ms Weems here said you may have passed out, hit your head in the process. How are you feeling sweetie.” She said coming over as you sat up. Ms Thornhill hovered nearby as if she was ready to catch you if you fell again. Weems watched on silently, the way she was biting her lip being the only tell she was anxious for you.

You brought a hand to your temple at the pounding in your skull. And sighed as you remembered.

“I had a vision. I must have passed out and hit my head after.” You said with a wince as the nurse began to probe the small cut on your face. She hummed and grabbed a small clear packet with some white strips inside.

“It's not too deep but we’ll stick on some butterfly stitches to help it heal. Don’t get them wet and come to the infirmary in two weeks to get them off.” She said and stuck two white stickers on your brow.

Once she was done Marilyn took the rubbish and deposited it in weems office bin.

“How’s the head?” The headmistress asked and you grimaced.

“Not great.” You muttered and all parties in the office looked concerned.

“Well, we’ll have a look and see what we are dealing with. But i suspect you will be staying with either one of these fine young ladies tonight to keep an eye on you. Heads are tricky.” The sweet old nurse said with a smile and Weems flushed slightly at being referred to as young.

The nurse held your chin in her hand and shone a light in each eye. She ran a few more tests before making a tutting noise with her tongue and began to pack her bag.

“As i suspected you have a mild concussion. You will defiantly need monitoring tonight and will need to probably stay with Ms Weems as she has a spare room.” She said and packed her things.

“What do I need to do?” The principle asked, not taking her eyes off you as the nurse tuned to address her.

“Wake her every few hours to make sure she’s not getting worse. If she is… call me straight away. She may be a bit more confused and even nauseous. So, I recommend a bin or a basin just in case. Give her two Panadol for the headache when the packaging says and keep her out of classes tomorrow just so she can rest. No phones. Dim lights and no strenuous activities while she recovers. No reading either or television.” She said and counted the things off on her fingers. Thornhill helpfully scribbled it all down on a notepad she found on Larissa’s desk.

Both teachers knew it was going to be an interesting night.

Part 2

[askmstau]

note: you're the worst (i love you)

wc: 1356 rated: teen warnings: none pairing: jimmy/scar

fic under cut!!

Considering that it’s the weekend and that it’s now Hotguy’s time to shine since he has the free time to do something that isn’t petty stealing from Canary; today sure is boring. 

There was nothing actually interesting happening, and he's already done his once-over from a bird’s-eye view to see if there was anything that he could jump in on. Alas, he came up with nothing. He decides to fly up once again- higher compared to before -and scans over the surrounding area. 

No Watcher shenanigans today, it seems, since there was a lack of pink, gold, and white. However, there appears to be a certain yellow-winged bird on patrol. Well, he definitely knows whose attention he’ll be looking for today. He flies back down, landing in the general vicinity of the Rank 6 hero dubbed Canary. He winces a bit at the harsh landing, but he manages to shake it off rather easily.

There is no specific plan of action today, he just feels like being a general nuisance. Even if there were one, he has nothing other than his bow, arrows, and a few smoke bombs, so he couldn’t do damage even if he wanted to. Other than murder- which isn’t exactly his style. 

(But to be fair, neither was targeting heroes to the degree he has been as of late. Let alone specific ones. That was usually M77’s job.)

He notches an arrow into his bow and aims right at the side of Canary. Far enough away so he doesn’t get hit, but close enough to spook the songbird.

 

“Hawkeye!” The arrowhead firmly embeds itself into the wall next to the hero, making the man jump- just the reaction he was looking for. 

The canary hybrid spins around swiftly, his eyes landing on the shapeshifter- who was currently a wood elf that is very proud of himself.

“Well, hello there!” He waltzes up to the avian, casually pulling the arrow out from the wall, assessing the damage done to the point, and putting it back in his quiver. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Canary… didn’t look the happiest. Which- to be fair he did kind of scare him. And he’s been stealing from him for the past month, so it’s not like it’s unjustified. It’s just- not the desired reaction! Okay, wait, that sounds kind of bad, pause-

“You.” Uh oh, off the wingfolk goes- or, that’s what he thought. Rather than the usual frustrated spiel he was expecting, he felt a gloved hand on his exposed back push him roughly into the building, knocking some of the breath out of him. His trusted bow gets knocked out of his hand, landing on the ground unceremoniously with a thump against the worn dirt.

Oh. This ones new. He’s definitely not going to be thinking about that later-

He feels his hands being moved behind his back, and he hears a metal click.

Oh. He’s being arrested. He really should have expected this to happen. Shame- disappointing, even! He thought Canary was better than this! The cuffs aren’t even power dampeners, just plain old metal! Shouldn’t he know that they’re basically useless to him?

At least he jumps on opportunities- “I’ve been looking for you, you know.” Which- wait, what? He gets tugged back by the handcuffs on his wrist, and he feels his face flush pink at getting manhandled like this.

“I- what- what? You have?” Usually, heroes don’t go looking for him unless he’s done something to warrant them looking- which to be fair, he’s been stealing Canary’s things, but he’s done plenty worse! This really shouldn't be the breaking point! He hasn’t even done anything today! Well, outside of scaring Canary at least- but that’s not even a criminal offense!

“I- hah, not that I wasn’t expecting a cat and mouse chase, of course. That’s usually how it goes with me and he- roes…” He trails off at the hand on his chin, gently coaxing him to look at the songbird. 

It’s reached the point where he can’t even act like denying it. He’s definitely going to be thinking about this later.

“Sure have, sweetheart.” Okay. He feels his face burn red. He didn’t have to do that to him- “Remember the notes you’ve been leaving? The ones that appear after something has conveniently gone missing?” The Rank 6 pauses, giving Hotguy a chance to respond, but is met with silence. In his defense, his brain is going a mile a minute, and with no room to spare for a reply.

The canary hybrid continues, “I read them. I've read them, and you’re not sorry, are you? I- This is just a game to you, isn’t it? You’re not very subtle about it, Hotguy.” He's shoved back into the wall and released from Canary's grip, making him stumble slightly from not relying on the avian’s hold.

Since he's now mobile, he flips around to look at Canary face to face and- wow he's closer (and much to his chagrin prettier) than expected. The man is wildly gesturing with his hands while talking- which he distantly thinks that he should probably start listening- but that doesn't mean he will.

“Not a word I said went through that pretty head of yours, huh?” The villain sputters an excuse and stumbles forward from the collar of his shirt getting yanked by the shorter. “I- ah- listen! Listen, I was a bit preoccupied but- but! I am all ears now, yup! Absolutely!”

“I- Why did I even bother. Of course you weren’t listening.” Canary mutters and sighs and lets go, putting a hand on his hip before being met with a face full of blue and orange feathers, accompanied by a lack of a certain shapeshifter. He sputters and spits out any that managed to get into his mouth, before looking around for the archer.

Nothing, which honestly isn’t a surprise in the slightest. It’s more of a wonder that he didn’t run off sooner. He picks up the bow that was left pathetically on the ground before dusting it off. Well, he supposes two can play at the stealing game. At least until Hotguy inevitably returns for his bow- and to probably steal some mundane item he has for attention.

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

Cub doesn’t even blink twice when Scar suddenly appears in the room, purple particles surrounding him, and his hands behind his back. He sends a dead skulk tendril to easily break the metal without looking up from the papers he’s grading. It was routine at this point, and they went through the motions like clockwork.

Scar waltzes up to vex hybrid, his body shifting to mirror the vex features. His wings twitch at the new thrum of magic in his veins. ”Well hello there, Cub!” He uses the table to stabilize himself, an ache in his knee presenting itself after his adrenaline started to die down.

“You’re here early. Aren’t you- aren��t you usually out until dusk?” He looks up from the research papers he’s reading for the first time since Scar came in. “Something must’ve happened if you’re back here, man. You good?”

Scar’s face changes from being winded, but still happy, to a flustered scowl. “Canary happened.” He looks off to the side while Cub leans in, abandoning grading essays altogether, far more invested in what Scar has to say, now that he has his attention.

“Oh? You have to- you gotta tell me what happened then, man. As long as it isn’t the same two stories you’ve been telling, I’m all ears.” Scar moves over, grabbing a nearby chair, and pulling it in. “So even though it’s the weekend, today’s been pretty boring, right?”

.

.

.

(Unbeknownst to Scar, the interaction between Canary and Hotguy was somewhat planned. Canary knew that the handcuffs weren’t power disablers, because he never wanted to capture him properly in the first place. He isn’t even able to properly arrest him, he’s too low ranked. 

He just… wanted to say what was on his mind…. sure. And maybe watch the shapeshifter squirm- but that’s between him and whatever deities are watching, and whichever poor reporter managed to witness whatever happened.)

[grim-wildwood]

Wands

(For the Wildwood Witch)

•☽────✧˖°˖⛤˖°˖✧────☾•

Most of the public has seen Harry Potter or engaged in fantasy-based media, where wands act as a magickal tool to make objects levitate, cast spells, or make things explode.

The truth is: wands are both real and magickal.

However, it is important not to let the "power" of fictional wands downplay the power of real ones.

One thing I will always advise against is using the Wizarding World as a guide for choosing a wand. Remember that it is entirely fictional information meant to add depth to a story rather than genuine information. I add this warning due to the fact that researching wands leads directly to information pulled from this resource quite often.

So, from the words of a high priestess, here are how wands work, how to tailor them to you, and the five best choices of wood!

How Wands Work

•☽────✧˖°˖⛤˖°˖✧────☾•

A wand is a sacred tool that represents power and protection. It is a symbolic object that is used during rituals and spells to channel energy and direct it toward a desired outcome. A wand can be made from any type of wood, stone, crystal, or other natural object such as a feather. A wand is considered a tool of spirituality and holding one can help to guide the practitioner and focus their intent during sacred rituals and spells.

When using a wand, a witch would grip it firmly in their hand, pointing the tip of the wand in the direction in which they desire their energy to flow. It is not necessary to make physical contact with the object being targeted or pointed at, as the wand itself possesses the power to draw in and channel necessary energies. While holding the wand, one can begin a chant or focus one's thoughts on a desired outcome. Holding a wand during a ritual or spell can be considered a way to focus one's intent and energy, helping to increase the intensity of the ritual or spell being performed.

In all honesty, there is no need for speaking in Latin or another language when it comes to casting a spell with a wand. As long as a witch speaks a simple statement with their intention in the tone they wish to set, all should go as planned.

Tailor Your Wand

•☽────✧˖°˖⛤˖°˖✧────☾•

As a witch of the wildwood, I would avoid buying premade wands for my craft unless they were custom-made to my specifications and sourced ethically. While a premade wand is perfectly acceptable to use, I find them to lack personality and individual connection. A wand made to be your companion tool versus a wand made to be sold have very different properties. Today, we are focusing on wooden wands. Adding your own charms, designs, color, or carvings is always the best route to go.

How should the wand look?

Well, that's up to you! Your wand could be any shape and size, as long as it has a pointed edge for you to aim. However, if you're looking for where to start, I have some good suggestions for finding basic measurements.

Measure the wand's length to be from the crook of your elbow to the end of your middle finger. Traditionally, wands are between 30 to 50 centimeters (approximately 11.8 to 19.7 inches) long.

1 to 2 inches (approximately 2.5 to 5 centimeters) in circumference is common, though always approach that which is most comfortable to you.

If you decide to use a simple stick found on the ground, consider using the natural bark as the handle, check for rot, and do a sturdiness test. If it breaks, find a new stick. You don't want to get attached to a wand only for it to break later down the line. These kinds of tools stick to a witch for the rest of their journey. Using ethically sourced leather or cloth would also make excellent handle choices. Some people even use copper wire as a wrap.

Stain your wood naturally!

I suggest avoiding synthetic paints. This wand is an extension of the sacred Wildwood and thus should reflect that. Remember, natural dyes tend to vary dramatically depending on the wood, so always do a color test beforehand to be sure it's the perfect color! Oh, and be aware that many of these ingredients are not safe for consumption; they're for coloring only! Here are some materials you can use to color your wand:

Beets Cochineal Powdered Red Sandalwood (yes, you can use another wood to dye yours!) Madder Root

Black Tea (for a lighter look) Coffee (for a mid-toned look) Walnut Hull Powder (for a darker look)

Turmeric Ginger Goldenrod Flowers Onion Skin Safflower

Spinach Nettles Green Tea (for a lighter look) Moss Anything containing chlorophyll!

Woad Dogwood Fruit

Blackberries Blueberries Red Grape Skins Elderberries Red Cabbage (for a blueish-purple look)

Black Walnut Hulls (condense this to create a much darker tone) Vinegar & Steel Wool (for a grayish desaturated look) White Vinegar, Tea, Salt, and a Metal Object (this is by far the darkest natural stain mixture but should be further researched before attempting.)

Best Wood Types

•☽────✧˖°˖⛤˖°˖✧────☾•

While there are tons of different kinds to choose from, I have chosen the five best woods specifically for those inclined in wildwood or green witchcraft.

Apple Wood

Great durability

Negativity protection

Creative thinking

Psychic insight

Emotional healing

Apple wands are regarded as a supreme choice for the Wildwood witch because they offer excellent strength and a gentle, yet firm power, as well as a protective and healing capacity. Apple wood is also known for its ability to encourage creativity in its wielder. It is the ideal wand wood for fans of herbal and aromatic magick. This kind of wood is also known to have a sweet scent and is my personal choice!

Cherry Wood

Compassion

Self-Esteem

Love

Meditation

Confidence

Cherry wood wands radiate a low and smooth energy that helps its wielders stay grounded and compassionate towards themselves and others. They also tend to have a soothing and calming effect to the wielder and those around them. These kinds of wands offer a supportive and positive energy that reflects back at the user, making cherry wood an excellent choice for the particularly shy or anti-social witch looking for an extra boost. I also find that this particular wand is strong in anti-anxiety spells.

Elderberry Wood

Academic abilities

Problem-solving

Strong protection

Focus

Productivity

Great for the Wildwood witch who mainly practices in home or individual protection, the elderberry wand is known for keeping its user focused on the tasks at hand. It has a stoic and firm energy with a bit of a kick for dispelling hexes.

Willow Wood

All-purpose healing

Protection

Wisdom

Earthly connection

Life energy

While seen as a "basic" base for a wand, this is perfect for all kinds of magick. It is known for its ability to adapt to any spell or incantation. It is great for both beginners and witches with more advanced knowledge, as this wand has a light and airy masculine energy to it, like sunlight. It is associated with the acquisition of knowledge because it is always an open door for trying new things.

Pine Wood

Divination

Discipline

Purification

Reliability

Stability

It is common for these wands to be viewed as old friends. These wands love their owners and show it. Use a pine wand if you need a layer of protection from backfiring spells. They are particularly strong when used in divination work, enchanting and purification of stagnant energy.

•☽────✧˖°˖⛤˖°˖✧────☾•

With that, I hope that you have a lovely day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. To my fellow witches in need of a wand, I hope that I have helped guide you closer to the perfect companion tool for you!

[a-stupid-capricorn]

Better than you could aspire to be (Part 3)

Part 2 here! Gender neutral reader! It mentions wretching, but there is nothing that mentions that in too much detail.

Taglist: @forgotten-blues

--

You approach the Avidya forest with Alhaitham with you, notebook and pen on your person as you intend to interview the forest ranger that remembered you. Looking up, you see them talking to Tighnari, him audible enough that you knew he was giving them a tougher route today. You call up to the forest ranger, Alhaitham standing next to you so that Tighnari wouldn't get any ideas on how to be rude to you next.

"_!" They exclaim. "What brings you back to your roots? Planning on coming back?"

Tighnari looks over, visibly confused, but you don't have the time to waste as you only had today in the near future to get to the bottom of this.

"May we interview you?" Alhaitham asks, the forest ranger nodding eagerly before Tighnari huff out of frustration.

"We can deal with the route as well, if that would help!" You offer up. Tighnari raises a brow, now curious about this offer of yours.

"Oh, can you now?" He teases, making you feel like an ant under his gaze.

"They trained you, of course they can!" The forest ranger scolds Tighnari, who seems to think it's a joke. "Don't you forget they taught you the basics."

Tighnari shakes his head out of disbelief, still believing you had no experience in the forest.

"Fine." He gives in. "Don't come crying if you fail though."

Well, that was rather harsh of him. You knew he had the amnesic treatment, but you don't remember him being that horrible with his words.

You decide to get the route sorted first, Alhaitham assisting and picking up techniques as you trained him while doing the job. It felt nice, training someone in the field you used to work in before Tighnari came along.

"You should think about being a forest ranger, you bookworm." The forest ranger teases after the three of you have chosen to take a seat, the withering cleared. Looking over, you laugh when you see he had pulled out a book, reading it.

"What was the interview about, then?" The forest ranger asks, causing Alhaitham to put his book away, now remembering the initial reason for finding them.

"We are here to ask you some questions." Alhaitham states. "Some questions regarding your knowledge of _."

The forest ranger nods in understanding, and they explain that the last time they saw you before you disappeared everyone was talking about Tighnaris vision. They explain that they recall Tighnari returning from a short walk somewhere discrete with a bag filled with tablets, which he ordered everyone to take. Everyone else took it without thinking, but the forest ranger couldn't stomach it. In the privacy of their own home, they tried to take it only to become extremely nauseated from the stench that came from the tablet itself. They recall hearing some people wretching before taking the tablet, which stopped them from taking it.

"Do you have the tablets on your person?" Alhaitham asks, the person shaking their head before explaining it was back in their home.

Which led to the three of you walking back to their place. Alhaitham takes the tablets from the person, thanking them for their support in the investigation regarding the situation to which the forest ranger smiles and insists they weren't going to use the tablets anyway. Alhaitham remembers the time, and he reminds you he has work tomorrow.

"Oh, is that the time already?" You say, Alhaitham nodding as he allows you to have a short conversation with your forest ranger friend. "Well, thank you for the help! It was really nice to catch up with you, even if it is about an issue. As much as I would like to return, I'm sure you've figured out why this isn't ideal.". The forest ranger nods, before remembering they had something they wanted to give you. They grab a small package, and the scent is enough to tell you it was a snack that they created for you, one you particularly enjoyed.

As both you and Alhaitham head off, Tighnari watches on as he tries to process why you had such a fixation on the tablets this forest ranger refused to take. Tighnari was aware they didn't take the tablets, but he didn't understand why he himself started taking them. Cyno did advise him to have everyone take the tablets daily, and over time people got used to the rancid smell that came off the tablets, and Tighnari figured he was as well not questioning it.

Now, he was going to try and figure things out himself as well. Usually, he would figure out the effects mushrooms had when ingested by taking them himself, but this time he was going to stop ingesting something to investigate the properties of the tablet.

The first night, he recalls the time you left, explaining you had to meet with Cyno. Tighnari recalls a strange feeling of yearning, almost as if he wanted you to praise him for getting a vision. He also feels a sense of fear, almost like a part of him knew it would be the last memory he'd recall of you. He doesn't think much of this, assuming this was probably some sort of strange dream he had.

The other nights prove him wrong however, as he recalls more and more memories of you. The first withering he tried to cleanse, only for you to help him out when he failed to clear it by himself. The time he messed up a medicinal paste, and how you pointed him in the right direction. The time you gave him his bow, and the target you crafted for him to practice on.

And then, he finally remembers the first night he had in Teyvat. The feeling of fear, knowing he was in a foreign world he knew nothing off, the wave of relief when you were open to him staying, the sense of comfort he remembers having when he changes out of his fast food uniform that stinks of oil.

Thing is, Tighnari never dreamed. And even if he did, he wouldn't have recalled these 'dreams' in so much detail. He thinks to himself, and he realises that the medication he was taking was a known amnesic. How he didn't realise it, he didn't know. With this being said, he realised that the forest ranger was smart to go against his recommendation to take the medication.

The forest ranger remembered that it was you who brought Tighnari up to be as competent as he was. He remembers you were close to Cyno, and he remembers that it was Cyno himself who gave Tighnari the tablets.

As he's about to tell the other forest rangers they no longer need to take the medication, however, he's met with Cyno at his front door.

"You stopped taking your medication."

[definitelynotshouting]

Hello again! Im so sorry to hear you feeling well when i sent in my ask the other day :( hoping that the life series drop tmrw will provide a much needed distraction for whatever you need it to :)

-☀️

"I know the, um, this morning didn't go… very well… but… if I could—""

"Good, he thinks, but it's a rote sentiment, not half so vicious as it had been only hours earlier."

- oh??? 👀 i am looking

- Im assuming this is the meeting they had about taking grian back to hermitcraft (and the revelation that grian feeds on emotions to survive)?? Very curious

- Now that metaphor about the childhood coat being stained is a lot more painful

-☀️

"even stolen energy can't make up for that."

"everything he'd never had the first time he— well, when Grian, the real Grian— had died."

- "stolen energy" omg i am biting ankles over this.

- And the "real Grian" thing. Yeah

- This is one of those moments where grian's whole situation is so much more potent and vivid. Imagining living as myself, but knowing im occupying someone elses body, and having my very lifeforce sustained by others?? Its not hard to understand why grian internalises and hates himself for being "a parasite". Idk thats probably very obvious to everyone else but this is the first time ive really thought about all of what that entails

-☀️

"Starving hands reach out from the depths of his mind to pull him back, stumbling, under that dark waterline."

- Love how the word "starving" implies that G falling asleep is more of a survival mechanism forcing him under so that his body can feed rather than only exhaustion

-☀️

"he's pressed a knife to every promise he's ever made since the day he emerged,"

- shaking you

-☀️

"His existence lies in the shadows of these distorted fractures, jagged hopes and dented dreams, forever fated to cut his hands on the fragments."

- AHHHHJSLDHSJSVSN

- Man 🧍

- Dont have any words. Just tears.

AAAAAAAAAA SUN ANON I ALWAYS LOVE SEEING YOU IN MY INBOX!!!! Gods im so glad these lines resonated with and interested you, they were a ton of fun to write

I have a brain today so i can actually expand on some of the things youve pointed out instead of just aiming heart eyes at you for the compliments fjsndjsjejke so for the first point, yes!!! Scar and Xisuma returned to the others post chap 6 and were like "Well that sucked!! Wow!!!!" I wouldnt say theyve given all the information to everybody, because they themselves aren't exactly ready to discuss that beyond the immediately required basics, but everyone else was given the gist: convo went badly, Grian is being taken back to Hermitcraft on Scar and Xisuma's insistence. Both Scar and Xisuma feel fucking horrible for how that conversation went down-- nobody had a good time there. So while the plan is to eventually get everyone up to speed, they're sorta taking this time to be miserable about what was essentially a fight that ended in stripping Grian of his autonomy

There's also a little cross-communication happening here in the background, btw: Scar and Xisuma have a pretty big picture now, but Tango, Mumbo, and Pearl have been fed that false info abt the potions being potentially useful. So, yknow :) just smth to keep in mind there haha

Your point about how it almost feels like Grian falling asleep is a survival mechanism is spot on the money. It's essentially him falling into a state of low power mode, where everything but his most basic of functions is shut down for a brief time in favour of preserving energy-- i would honestly consider it more equivalent to a coma than actual sleep. Hence Tango's concern, and subsequent relief when Grian woke up; the entire time he was unconscious, he was fully unresponsive. So, yknow. Real nerve-wracking to see, especially after that prior full week of unresponsiveness as his body struggled to maintain itself.

Tango's role here is indeed deliberate, both on a watsonian and doylist level!! The reason however is the exact same for both: Tango is a little more removed, personally, from this situation. Grian was-- and is-- his friend, ofc, but he's not as close to whats happening. Meanwhile, Xisuma is in 24/7 server babysitting mode, Pearl is not fit to be a caretaker, and Scar and Mumbo were tearing themselves apart by trying to sit and look after him. So Tango got assigned caretaker duties 😂😂😂😂 it was an effective way to divvy up tasks and keep everybody busy, and somewhat hilariously, so far Tango is the only person Grian isnt supremely upset with for one reason or another. And thats why he's continued to stay in caretaker mode lol he is truly just. The only guy who can rn

I also just sorta think of him as a surprisingly emotionally savvy fixer-type, in terms of personality. Like. I think he just gets what people set down in front of him, yknow? Although hell if he knows what to do with it once he's got em. He fumbles a lot, sure, and he defaults to fix-it mode, but he is getting the message when Grian essentially says "i dont wanna talk anymore" without actually saying it

As for Grian and his headspace, rn, theres definitely a complexity at work here where he wants to die and is very genuine in that, but he IS also grateful he's seeing his friends. He cant deny that. As painful as it is, he still loves them very much, and ultimately he's trying to do this for their own good as much as for his own sense of punishment and relief. I think like... now that he's really creeping up on what he has planned, and the pieces are suddenly becoming a reality, theres a bit of dissonance he's fighting against to stay on course. He wants his friends happy; he also wants to die. He's so overwhelmingly tired; he is, as much as he feels he doesnt deserve it, glad to have his friends close. That sort of hopelessness mixed with a warped sense of comfort that he got to see and interact with them one last time. If that makes any sense. Its a bit of complexity i wanted to make sure i added in, because people are so rarely fully decided on any course of action they choose to take, without even a single flicker of doubt (and especially one so final as this). Im glad youve picked up on that, and that you appreciate what i was trying to set down with it!!! :D

This was such a lovely message, as always-- you are very sweet, sun anon, and i appreciate you lots :] i hope you're having an excellent day!!!

[gren-arlio]

As my laptop dies, the quest for knowledge doesn't. Welcome to Episode 7 of (Waku) Puyo Extras. (Feat. A bit about a trope.)

(At what point do we begin to feel bad for Schezo?)

Hey everyone, it's the dude who translates a niche video game for a living. As my laptop seizes to exist, my phone survives, and it's thankfully enough to do Waku Puyo Extras, as well as doing some stuff to work under Puyo Preservation as a proofreader.

As writing this, (September 25th-30), my laptop cannot run most things anymore, including what I use for translations, but I'm not the one to leave people in the dust. So rather, I decided to work on Extras because hey, I like writing these and people kinda enjoy these well.

I thought this time, with my inconsistent as all hell schedule, speak about these today:

Honey Bee. Weird pick, I know, but it could've been worse, and at least she's super hard carried by the Waku Puyo Manga. Plus, her origin is pretty interesting.

Something a little goofy. Schezo's "love life", or really, the people who chase[d] him around during the run of Puyo and Madou. That, and the trend itself in the games, since it goes even to Puyo Puyo Tetris 2.

As per the (Kinda) Dead Laptop Arc I'm going through, there are no videos for a good while.

And before we begin, I want to ask y'all a question:

Both will be covered but for a TLDR for people who dunno:

Serilly's Happy Birthday is a sorta Princess-Maker (Where you're basically raising a young girl, but in this case it's Serilly) game where you help plan Serilly's birthday on a week-to-week basis and invite people for her birthday. Gameplay itself I dont fully know myself, but I DO know that there are several endings to this game depending on who you decide to speak to and befriend.

Arle's Travel Log is a text-adventure game where Arle and Satan fight over Carbuncle and get blasted back in time, and Arle and Carbuncle trying to get past to the present. Game itself has some actual Madou Monogatari-like exploration, a point and click battle system, and features not only the Madou cast, but some actual historical figures and JUMP HERO, another series made by COMPILE.

This poll will last about a week. With this, I really hope you enjoy.

-----

So, What're Honey Bee's Origins?

Honey Bee's origin is kinda weird, similar to Kikimora. She first appears in a Disc System Daimadou Senryaku Monogatari, a turn based strategy game, as one of the "Units" Arle and her enemies can use.

These are the rivals Arle can face, ranging from Easy on top, Moderate in middle, and Difficult on the bottom. Yeah idk how Witch or Zoh got into the Difficult status. Oh, and the tile on the very bottom right? That's where the final boss is...which is Rulue.

And on the bottom screenshot, you can see Archan and Kodomo as well, who also made their grand appearance here.

Now you couldn't exactly pay me to tell you how the gameplay really works, but I do know that this game got a balance patch in form of another game. We getting the Street Fighter treatment for these. I'm thankful to even find gameplay, as another Disc Station game, Madou Sugoroku, I legit can't find any footage for.

...Maybe the next Extras will be about these game, I dunno.

-----

So Honey Bee herself had a kinda interesting origin, even though she was sorta a blank slate along with the rest who joined her. SUN didn't exactly do much better.

She first appears in Arle's route and comes down trying to stab Arle with her syringe. Arle dodges and says that what Bee just did was dangerous, but Bee chases her with the syringe. And on Schezo's route, she actually stabs Schezo, but his head must be made of steel because he thinks it's just his imagination and walks away.

(The moment of the attack, 1996, Circa)

So not the best, but she got something, right?

Well. Waku Puyo blows everything out the water...in the manga.

BECAUSE HONEY BEE IS SO ANNOYING AS AN ENEMY.

She comes in and does a few things. Either poison you, lower your attack, or makes you sleep. When she's about at 1/3 of her HP, she retreats very quickly, which is more annoying than it sounds. She sounds evil in this game, man. So much so that my friend @kirstenonic05 made a nice little video about her experiences.

Here.

(Song used is Lying Coldy in Ace Attorney: Miles Edgeworth Investigations.)

Besides bosses, from my pals experiences, Honey Bee holds the distinct honor of being the most annoying enemy to fight.

So how does the Manga carry her?

It HEAVILY carries her, 90% of her personality as a whole is there to be honest.

We meet her in the first volume, and she says her goal quite clearly: To beat Schezo, even though she doesn't even know why she has to herself. Even Schezo's confused as hell.

However, unlike Puyo SUN, she doesn't just attack the man outta nowhere. She gets one ACTUAL look at Schezo's face, and is flabbergasted by how pretty he is. (In this style of art? He's alright for the most part)

After some shenanigans going around, what with Bee stabbing him and her getting smacked around because she's barely the size of Schezo's neck and head, decides that she's not gonna kill him, and rather join him for whatever cause he has because...Love I guess. Damn, love really does make people do crazy shit.

She then (To the dismay of Schezo) follows him around for a majority of the adventure, even helping him with fights occasionally, and being absolutely pissed when Incubus appears and tries to seduce Schezo.

I should mention here that Bee thinks that she and Schezo are husband and wife. Or at least "together". That's how many on Schezo?

Now, if you've seen the Serilly Extras post, you know that she was also there with Schezo, but at the start, rather than try to help Serilly, who was manipulated by Satan to be there because he said he was her friend, try to attack her several times to know where the Orb was...only for Schezo to smack her aside several times.

Thankfully, she got the memo and decided to help Serilly out, only to get upset when Serilly saves Schezo and he carries her bridal style, and also when Schezo says he'll visit again if he feels like it.

After Schezo gets possessed by Incubus (I'm not saying seduced. He full on got possessed,) Bee goes to Momomo, who then goes to Serilly for help and...yeah the manga ended there.

So yeah, that's Bee's importance in the manga. Quite a large one, but to Schezo, she's just another annoying admirer/person who loves him.

(If you came for the analysis, this ends here. Thanks for reading up to here, and enjoy my goofy ramble about a trope.)

-----

Speaking of Annoying Admirers/"Lovers":

Poor Schezo. Man's trying to live his life and just gets chased around by some of the oddest people out there, or in some cases, stuck with them. This has obviously not been the case for Modern Puyo, but back then? Oh boy. Lets cover that.

Let's start with the one from the manga itself, the one y'all JUST saw:

Honey Bee:

Frankly, Schezo got it rough if a Bee thinks they're married, when in-game, she's easily the most infuriating enemy out there excluding bosses. She frankly loves the dude, much to Schezo's anger. She sees other girls talking to him or whenever Incubus decides to be wacky as cheating, and gets really upset at that.

And that's not even including Serilly, where she tried to attack her over it...and also the orb but shhh, forget that. We forget them here quite often.

-----

Incubus

You may be wondering, "What does he do again?" and I'm glad you asked. Man spends the entire time chasing around Schezo trying to "Seduce" him and such, much to Honey Bee's dismay and chargin.

Though like any villain, he does have a reason. Y'see, the big thing about Waku Puyo is these orbs, the big shiny things that are important. Incubus wants those orbs, and when Schezo gets one from Serilly, he does possess Schezo for it. Love it or not, the guy had a fairly decent plan. I have to unfortunately respect it. Poor Bee, though.

(Yeah, I forgot this happened, ngl.)

-----

Succubus:

Another one is Succubus. Now with this one, this is more due to things like, oh idk,

She's a damn Succubus. It's her job.

Incubus I was a little confused about, but in general, it made sense, Succubus is just doing what she usually does. We all know what she did to Schezo in Madou Saturn, but in Waku Waku Puyo Puyo Dungeon, she does appear in all routes in Battle Castle as well as in Schezo's route.

In both her boss fights, she tries her absolute best to make Schezo her servant...to basically little avail, because he was tempted at first. (Also, in Arle's route, she makes an exception for her because she only goes for "Good-looking men," but Arle can be excluded.)

-----

Witch:

If you've followed me at any point in time or casually read whatever she does in Madou, you know as well as I do that Witch chases this guy around. A lot. She could be considered the OG Schezo Chaser. (God I'm laughing at that name during typing)

They began to get associated in Tower of the Magician, and there, they're going their own routes but they team up sometimes for puzzles and the sort. Nothing bad. Then it happens again in SUN, with the now infamous "I want you," to Schezo, before clarifying its his robe she wants. I feel like this one was a genuine misunderstanding.

Then out of fucking nowhere, she dials it up to 11 in 1998 with both Waku Waku Puyo Puyo Dungeon AND Madou Saturn. Least in Saturn, she was stupid curious about this "Perverted man" and asked to touch him, and that's about it. In Waku Puyo, she just...chases him the entire time for his clothes, and keeps saying how cool he and the robe are. IK I mention this often but it's relevant to this for once. Plus, Waku Puyo is like 50% of my brand.

Then she does the unthinkable and continued it in PPT2...yes I know Marle possessed her but still. It's funny. And to quickly mention 20th, she does do her iconic SUN line again, so Wahoo.

And special shout out to when she told everyone about the meaning of Schezo's name during that beauty contest. Gotta respect that she knows the lore.

(I don't think any of us expected this. But it's hilarious. Unfortunately I will not be submitting to you.)

----

About this "Lover chases their crush"/Chasers Trope;

They're pretty common in Puyo as a whole. Rulue with Satan, Satan with Arle, Schezo with Arle for straight power, Witch with Schezo, Draco with beauty, Strange Klug with trying to get out that fucking book, list goes on.

I won't deny, it's a little outplayed, and Rulue specifically got it the roughest. Like 60% of her is just about Satan, and I just find that wild, least in modern Puyo. I think Puyo Puyo Tetris 2 did it wonderfully, as Rulue still very much loves Satan, but it's not her entire character.

Maybe Puyo Tetris 2 is just really well written, I dunno.

Overall...I'm fine with this trope. If done well it can be very funny, just hope to God it's the main thing about the character.

And I think with that statement, that'll be all for this week. Hope you enjoyed this, and be sure to vote on the poll too.

Adios.

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

EVERYTHING TRISLANCE RN

OKAY THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ASS POST CAUSE IMMA GIVE YOU SNEAK PEEKS OF EACH ONE THAT HAS STUFF WRITTEN ALREADY, TOO

First one: [pretty, pretty please]

[He hears a slight creak of the floor and whips around, his heterochromatic eyes meeting bright red ones and he instantly relaxes, sagging in on himself. In the presence of the other boy, he felt ashamed of himself. If Lance had a demon form, he would never lose control the way that I do, Tristan thought to himself glumly as he dropped his eyes down to the floor, gritting his teeth.

"What is with you today?" Lance speaks up sternly. Tristan continues his inspection of the floor, but he hears the slight tunk as Lance closes the door to his bed chambers and the quiet wisps of fabric brushing together as he makes his way towards him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tristan argues weakly, both of them knowing it's a complete lie. Lance reaches for his hand and Tristan flinches away from him. I don't deserve his touch. He should be disgusted by me, just like everyone else.

Lance hesitates then, Tristan can tell. His body goes still, his breath hitches, and he swallows. Tristan still isn't looking at him, but his other senses have learned to pick up on his every move and action just as well as his eyesight by this point. He knows what's coming. He's about to be scolded for his pathetic slip-up. This is the first time they've managed to actually talk right after a loss of his control, so Lance has never gotten to truly lecture him about it before, but Tristan knows that he wants to. He's made that quite clear through snippy comments and stern remarks thrown about in conversation between them whenever the topic allows. Tristan is certain that he knows exactly what Lance is going to say to him, so he's very surprised by the question he hears spoken softly into the room.

"...Are you afraid of me?" Lance asks Tristan. His voice is wobbly and quiet, as if the question itself is enough to make him completely crumble into tiny pieces. Tristan's head shoots up immediately upon processing what Lance was asking him. He thinks I'm afraid of him? Seriously?]

So, about this one!!! Basically Tris has one of his many mental breakdowns and Lance shows up and ends up learning just how badly Tristan sees himself while Tris finds out about some of Lance's own insecurities and it's all a bunch of angst that eventually ends with some fluff. I only plan for it to be like a chapter or two, tbh, just a short lil thing.

Second one: [and all we are is skin and bone, trained to get along]

Synopsis: It's your usual trope. Royalty meets commoner and love blossoms between the two. But these boys are a bit different. Not only are they completely different classes, they're different races, too. In this version of Britannia, the Fairy clan doesn't take too kindly to the Goddess Clan and vice versa. But the Prince of Liones has such mesmerizing eyes and that bread thief's sly grin is enough to leave anyone it's aimed at breathless.

[Tristan hurries down the hall and to his room, having only a limited amount of time to get there before the guards come back and see the basket of food he carries with him. It's not like getting caught would be too big of a deal. But getting caught meant he would have to provide an explanation as to why he had the food with him in the first place, and that's what he would get in trouble for. 'Oh, well, you see, mother and father, the reason I was taking this rather large basket of food to my room with me is because I've decided to start giving that very handsome young commoner boy that you captured in the kitchens two weeks ago baskets of food every week so that he'll keep coming back to my balcony and calling me pretty.' Yes, that would certainly go over well. There are so many things wrong with that sentence that just speaking it out loud to anyone would gain him an immediate doctor visit or two.

He bites back a grin as he slips through the doors to his bed chambers quickly, allowing them to fall closed behind him. He sets the basket on his writing desk before walking over to his bed and flopping down on it, the grin finally breaking through despite him trying to prevent it from doing so.]

This little snippet is literally all I have written out for this fic so far, but I plan for this to have at least 6 chapters and I haven't finished planning it out yet, tbh, just that it's gonna be a pretty decent amount of story, lmao. But basically Ban, Elaine, and Lance live like a (mostly) normal family but are pretty poor and Ban tries to stay straight and out of trouble, but Lance doesn't have the same sentiment. HE decides it would be a great idea to try and steal some food directly from the King and Queen (Because Meliodas and Elizabeth don't know Ban or Elaine in this AU, ofc) and he gets caught and thrown behind bars for a few days. But then he gets released and on his way out, he spots Tris looking pretty in the gardens and Tris sees him as well and then there's ✨chemistry✨

But because of Elaine being a fairy, she's extremely distrustful of Elizabeth and Meliodas by association and Ban hates demons, so he hates Meliodas and it's all a whole thing. I plan to have King in the story, too, but I haven't figured out his part of the story yet, or most of the other characters for that matter, lmaoo

Third one: [we're only lost children]

AKAJAKA I'VE TOLD YOU ABOUT THIS ONE BEFORE

THIS IS THE ONE WHERE THEY DANCE

AND THEN THE TIMELINE IS SWITCHED

SO LANCE DISAPPEARS AT AGE 16 INSTEAD OF 10

AND THEN THERE'S A N G S T

But I'll still give you a lil bit of it so that you have plenty of food to eat up :DDD

[They’re so close now, their bodies almost entirely pressed together. Lancelot leans down and presses his forehead into Tristan’s. From their current position, their chests are pressed together and Tristan can feel Lance's heart beating as fast as his own. Lance brings his hand up from Tristan’s knee and instead presses it to his cheek instead, cradling his face tenderly. Tristan mimics the action with his free hand and the two of them stay just like that for a few long moments. Then, slowly, Lance stands back up, pulling Tristan with him, and they continue their dance. But this time, it's different.

Before, the heat and tension building between them was subtle. Now it was all around them, closing in and getting ready to consume them. Their chase continues, but it's faster. Who's the hunter? Who's the prey? Neither is quite sure yet, all they know is that they must catch the other. Tristan's glad to see that Lance is just as affected as he is. The blonde has wide pupils and it almost seems like he's panting. Tristan knows he's the same way. All he wants to do is pull his lover into a kiss, end this chase, but he doesn't want to give in just yet. The air around them is filled with fire and every step they take just adds another spark to the flame.

Lance can see it in Tristan's eyes. He's right on the verge of giving in, of letting Lance win. The competitive nature in him is filled with glee at the chance to win this unspoken game of theirs. He fills his eyes with all his want, all the desire he has for the boy in front of him, and lets a boyish grin grace his lips. And that's it, right there. He sees the moment Tristan gives in and he knows he's won, exactly as he planned to. He pushes Tristan out for one more spin and then pulls his prince right into him.

"Damn you." Tristan whispers against Lance's lips before pushing all the way against him, and the flames overtake them.

The kiss they share now is unlike any kiss that's been exchanged between them before. They've had plenty of makeout sessions, but none of them held as much heat as this one.]

Aksjslakas I forgot that I planned on putting smut in the first chapter 💀💀 Cause it's supposed to be all sweet and romantic and our two boys being all in love and being connected more than ever before AND THEN BOOM

Lance is gone right after for THREE WHOLE YEARS

Cause I'm evil and love making angst LMAO

So there you go!! I know there's a fourth one but I have literally nothing for it except the title, lmao. BUT I know that the title is a lyric from the song The Only Exception by Paramore, so maybe listening to the song while thinking of Trislance will bring whatever idea I had back 💀💀💀

[pomrania]

Okay, so I should write stuff about what I’m planning to do this month, for art. It’s not going to start today or tomorrow, but yeah.

First off, it’d be for mutuals and half-mutuals. “Half-mutual” is a term I came up with, because I didn’t know of any other term, and it just seemed to fit. It’s for when you follow my blog, and I follow your sideblog. (Or the other way around, but I don’t have sideblogs that people follow, so that wouldn’t apply to me.) I know there’s at least two different half-mutuals I have, one where I follow their cat blog and another where I follow their art blog; there may be more, even ones that are regularly active, but this is just off the top of my head.

I’m limiting it to mutuals and half-mutuals because I don’t think I could handle it unlimited; therefore, it logically follows that I think I CAN handle it with the given limitations. Which leads back into the perennial problem of people going “I don’t want to impose” or “I don’t want to give you extra work” or “I want other people to have a chance”. STOP WITH THAT.

Let’s take it in order. “I don’t want to impose.” If I’m asking you to give me something, and you give me the thing that I ask for, that is like, the exact opposite of “imposing”.

“I don’t want to give you extra work.” I’m not on salary. I’m not some minimum-wage employee getting paid the same amount regardless of how much I do or have to do. Heck, I’m not getting paid at ALL for this; it’s something I do because I WANT to do it. And if I feel like I can’t finish all of a thing in one day, you know what I do? I carry it over to the NEXT day.

“I want other people to have a chance.” This is actually a valid concern, but don’t worry, I have a system for dealing with that, and it’s worked very well in the past. Basically, you can only make a second (or third, fourth, etc) request once your first request has been done and posted; and that new request goes to the bottom of the list, like all new requests. I can explain it in more detail if needed -- either because you don’t get what I’m saying (totally possible) or because you don’t see how it solves the problem -- but it boils down to that the only way someone can monopolize stuff, is if nobody else makes a request.

If you keep following me, you’re prolly going to see the above stuff a LOT, as it keeps being a problem for every damn request-based art event I do. So like, just trust that I know what I’m doing, and I’m capable of making my own choices, and don’t try to make those choices for me.

Okay, rant over, what’s the other stuff I’ll need to talk about....

Subject matter. It’s “drawing pets as monsters”. Last year I got a lot of “vampire” requests, and I don’t know whether that’s because I put ‘vampire’ in the list of examples, or if people just really want to see their critters as vampires. I’d rather not, in general. Mostly because there’s only so many different ways to represent “vampire” and it can get boring after a while. I mean, I’m not OPPOSED to drawing critters as vampires, but I’d prefer that either a) it’s something you really want, as in “oh boy I can’t wait to see this critter as a vampire”, or b) you give me something more descriptive than just “vampire”; doesn’t have to be a vampire from a specific folklore or anything, “cute little vampire like you’d see on spoopy decorations” or “monstrous blood-sucker” would also work quite well for purposes.

Duration. Uhhh I have no idea; I think I’ll start with requests open for a week, and then see how that goes. And I’ll have to remember to put that in the post too; that it might be open for just a week, and it might end up as more than a week, I don’t know.

OH something else I need to make sure everyone knows, although I might not need to put it in the post itself. That once requests close, that does not mean that the EVENT closes; I’ll still be drawing requests that came in. This is something that people keep getting wrong and worrying about; is there a better way of phrasing it, that’ll be easily understood?

Also, my normal rules wrt the definition of “pet” will still apply; that is, a critter you have some type of connection to, past or present, and you can give me their name. The “name” thing is important because that’s what I do for file names, so without a name I can’t get past super-rough sketching (because I’m only going to put actual effort into a piece once I’ve saved it, which I can’t do without something to name the file, and I refuse to depart from my naming scheme).

[twilightmalachite]

Christmas Live - Prologue

Author: Akira

Characters: Yuzuru, Anzu

Translator: Mika Enstars

JP Proofer: 310mc

EN Proofer: ryuseipuka

"Hm, “meow ♪”? Is that your impression of a cat?"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Yumenosaki Corridors

Yuzuru: …Sigh. I’m sorry, could you please repeat yourself?

Oh, no, it’s not that I couldn’t hear you the first time. I don’t mean to guilt you, but could you please speak a little more clearly?

I’m here to prioritize assessing the situation correctly, rather than to criticize you. …What has happened, are you crying?

You’ll have to excuse me, I cannot take your feelings into consideration at this time.

I’m terribly sorry, but, please do tell me what led up to this. I’ll handle it from here on.

Hm. What an inconvenience; I thought you had assured me you would have that matter taken care of.

If that comes to a stop, then this entire thing will come to a standstill.

What trouble. Biting off more than you can chew only reveals your inadequacy.

You should prove your usefulness not with your words, but with your actions, and your results.

Yes. Do not worry, allow me to take care of it. You should give your face a quick rinse.

I’ll contact you again later, so… Alright, do excuse me.

… …

Yuzuru: …How vulgar.[1] Well, I can understand how he feels.

Oya, Anzu-san. It’s not in very good taste to eavesdrop, you know.

No, there isn’t any serious trouble. No need for the producer to go through the hassle of interfering.

You’re busy with your own business after all, are you not?

Fufu. It is indeed December, the end of the year.

Soon it will be Christmas… The academy has plans to hold the large-scale event we know as StarFes.

And as expected, the student council appears to be short on hands, and I have been requested to assist with preparations.

I do not wish to be so meddlesome…

However, the student council is one of the young master’s places to be. It is my duty as a butler to support him, as well.

Furthermore, the results I achieve will also affect the young master’s evaluation.

And so, I am doing the best to my ability. I am having quite the tough time, though….

It’s one issue after another, you see, and I’m extremely busy. I’d welcome even the help of a cat.[2]

Hm, “meow ♪”? Is that your impression of a cat?

You act quite unusually sometimes, don’t you, Anzu-san. Regardless, as I’ve said… I’m sure that you have your own work to complete.

So please, prioritize that.

I understand exactly how you feel. Labor is a blessing—No, it is life itself. It devastates me to have to take a break for the New Year holiday season.

Fufu. That being said, it is a season where you can easily fall sick… Please take care of yourself, Anzu-san.

I do not have the time for a long conversation now, so do excuse me.

Oh. I’m sorry, but please do not tug at the hem of my uniform. You resemble a lost child. What can I do for you?

Hm. So… It’s a rare occurrence, but you truly are free today, Anzu-san?

Nobody will give you any work, because they’re all concerned about you? Well, you have been working a lot, Anzu-san… It wouldn’t be good if you were to collapse from overexertion.

Make good use of everyone’s concern for you, and please rest. How about finding a hobby, or joining a club?

That is what I do on my days off, too.

I strengthen my mind with the archery club, and do careful and meticulous cleaning around the mansion I normally am not able to get to…

Do you have any hobbies, Anzu-san?

Hm. You still insist on some kind of work? “Please don’t reduce my hours, boss!”…? Fufu, that’s a very funny joke. ♪

As you wish. I just can’t say no when I’m pleaded to so lovingly like that.

Hm… May I ask you to do a bit of shopping for me, then?

An errand. Basically; there are some trivial things I need.

The quantity doesn’t justify ordering from a vendor and getting it delivered, but it is a hassle to do the shopping oneself.

It would be a massive help if you could do this errand for me, Anzu-san.

Just a moment, please. Allow me to make a list of the items we need purchased. Correction fluid, a Bible, chocolate bonbons… Hm, what is it?

You’d like me to draw you a picture? No need to be so mean; you know that I possess no artistic talent.

Umm, well then… A turkey, then, a Christmas tradition.

The turkey’s saying, “Thank you for doing the shopping, Anzu-chan! ♪” How’s this?

Fufu. I am glad that you like it.

Thank you very much. I had been overwhelmed with busyness up until some moments ago, but…

I feel somewhat more at peace now. Thanks to you, Anzu-san. ♪

Anyhow. For this upcoming year’s end…

Let us end it meaningfully, and without any regrets. Although I’m sure you know that well, Anzu-san…

Ah, right, yes… The items I need for this errand aren’t ones necessarily needed right away.

So please do take your time strolling around town as you shop.

It is a delight simply to wander around with all the beautiful lights put up everywhere. …It’s a tad early, but nevertheless, Merry Christmas. ♪

[ ☆ ]

story directory | next →

The word here used is zokubutsu (俗物), the same word Shu often uses to describe Mika (and sometimes other people as well).

A japanese idiom, neko no te mo karitai (猫の手も借りたい) used to describe extreme business. Translated literally here so Anzu’s cute way of offering to help makes sense!

[drbased]

I've had in my head for years an idea for a 'series' called 'The Misogyny in Things I Love' where I was going to go through, well, the misogyny in things I love. I had in mind:

the simpsons: in wanting to subvert the traditional wholesome family sitcom they accidentally told an entire generation of women 'wanting a kind, gentle man who will provide for you is a foolish pipe dream, in reality you're expected to be slim and desireable and the men around you will be mean, gross slobs but you'll still be attracted to them for some reason and this is biting social commentary on the state of things and - whoops now the popularity of this show has changed the entire cultural landscape and you'll be buying your husband homer simpson socks as a ''''joke'''' and all the sitcoms will have a hot wife and gross fat dad and it's not even satire, it's just funny that men are like that and nobody really cares enough to try to make things better for women'

always sunny: I've talked about this a bit actually, about how each of the men represent a different facet of misogyny. one thing I didn't mention is how as always sunny has tried to keep up with the zeitguiest, it's been harder and harder for them to make the characters realistically bad people and also funny and relatable because the political landscape is so fragmented and hostile. but misogyny still gets a free pass so the guys get grosser and grosser to dee as time goes on but they're also not realistically transphobic because that would go too far. also the liberal use of bitch, I've seen the fanbase be like 'I love how in always sunny 'bitch' is a gender neutral term' 🤮 also what's fascinating is that as the show started, dee was originally going to be the generic 'girl' character and it was entirely kaitlin olson's vision that made the show into what it is today. I genuinely think without her the show would have been truly generic and unforgettable, like it would just be a bunch of guys being horrible to each other and onto a kind woman - that would have been so uncomfortable to watch. oh also they were planning on paying her a pittance and she demanded more money so yeah

peep show: peep show is such a fascinating deep dive into the incel/chad dynamic that tears apart both roles before they ever got truly entrenched in culture. the portrayal of misogyny in the show is fascinating and criticising it is hard because someone will inevitably say 'well they're not supposed to be good people' but the show repeatedly frames the men as fools and cowards and victims of circumstance, the women are framed as sexually aggressive towards them/using them - but when you actually look at their thoughts and actions, the men are grossly misogynistic. it's not treated as aspirational misogyny, but the framing leans more towards their problem not being misogyny itself but rather that 1. Jez needs to listen less to his impulses and grow up and 2. Mark needs to gain some courage. Mark even literally says in one episode in his head that he would basically threaten Sophie sexually but then says it's 'not his style'. Are we supposed to laugh at the absurdity that the only reason he's not a rapist is because he doesn't have the courage? How many men watching would even pick up that that's what's funny? Was that even the writer's intention? That's the problem with analysing peep show - it's supposed to be dark, it's supposed to be uncomfortable, and the question of exactly what the joke is can sometimes be ambiguous. taking a 'death of the author' approach to something like peep show is really fucking hard because you'll inevitably get people saying 'you're reading too much into it' or 'you're not reading into it enough' depending on what their own personal interpretation is. I guess that's why I haven't written about it

futurama: god, fry and leela. fucking hell, fry and leela. fry is a fucking monster, in one episode (the snoo-snoo/rape joke episode - it's funny because it's women raping men, and the men love it!) has fry and zapp brannigan making so many misogynistic jokes. fry is dumb, lazy and gross, clearly a groening staple. he harasses leela throughout the series, even in one episode going full incel 'why won't you go out with me?' and leela has to make up excuses. and it's treated as cute, it's treated as a love story for the ages. god, I fucking hate how the show treats leela. and amy is one step away from being a childish airheaded asian girl, it's really uncomfortable how much she's low-key sexualised. fortunately in the later series they actually have her complete her studies so she's not a generic bimbo character anymore. but then in the same era we have the most 90s bullshit 'men are from mars, women are from venus' style episode that shows how awful men are but.... idk, women gossip and complain a lot, so I guess that's the same thing. I love futurama so much but it has such gross sexual politics

red dwarf: red dwarf is responsible for the first 'gender swap' episode I've ever seen and I love it with all my heart. it does not shy away from the social commentary. what I always liked about red dwarf was that despite it being all men trapped together, it wasn't laddish at all and avoided all the classic misogynistic tropes, with some early episodes, such as the gender swap episode, being incredibly progressive, even for now. and then as a time went on it got worse and worse. when they brought kochanski back, she was 1. nothing like the quietly witty and shrewd women from the original series and 2. the generic space babe in a red latex jumpsuit, who also moaned about everything like a ridiculous female stereotpe. the last season before the rebooted series, where all the crew came back, became some sort of weird generic sitcom - and there was that horrible episode where they filmed women in the bathroom and there's one of those stupid moments where the guys are like 'this is horrible and wrong but I'm going to partake in it anyway because tee hee I'm a dumb stupid male I can't help it' I despise male-written comedy that does this, guys you're just fucking telling on yourselves

frasier: the whole Niles and daphne thing is also basically another case of 'man acts really creepy but it's unrequited love so it's really cute'. I will say though when they do get together I actually love how the show handles it, the episode where daphne and niles have a proper argument to demonstrate he doesn't idolise her anymore made a real impression on me growing up and I think it genuinely influenced my approach to relationships and valuing honesty. the show's depiction of roz is... interesting, because she's clearly a 'slut' but she's given more personality than just that. I don't like that she was given a child and that was supposed to be some sort of sign that she had grown as a person. and there's the series of episodes where there was a female boss and, of course, frasier ends up fucking her, even doing so accidentally 'on air'. it isn't treated as a purely humiliating moment for her, but still it's kinda gross in hindsight. the show really wants to have its cake and eat it too, it uses classic misogynistic tropes for comedy purposes but then takes the high road and allows the female characters to be more than one note. oh and then there's the episode where we find out that frasier's piano teacher basically statutory raped him but it's treated as one of those 'she taught him how to be a Man and he should thank her' kinda deals

gavin and stacey: I'm running out of steam but when nessa gets pregnant gwen says 'this could be the making of you' which I think is probably the most insulting line in all of television history. Nessa's whole character, the main joke about her, is how despite her age she has had such a ridiclously eventful life and has ties to all sorts of famous people. she's clearly a highly competent, dynamic, interesting woman, who only still lives in the small town of barry because of her national pride and love for stacey. the idea that pregnancy is the thing that will be the 'making of her'.... it's so insanely misogynistic that I think it fucking tops everything else on this list. what a hell of an insult, dear god

I probably will go through these properly eventually, I will at least talk about peep show and the simpsons because those two have the most social commentary and therefore say a lot about both the culture and the opinios

[m39]

Doom WADs’ Roulette (2009): Cheogsh 2

Surprise!

No clowns to scare you today!

But, yeah, change of plans, people. It looks like the version of GZDoom that I’m using is incompatible with Happy Time Circus II, so I had to use ZDoom; and with this rather archaic source port, combined with walking through darkness most of the time, trying to guess where to go, and the gnawing, bouncing heads from the first HTC returning from that map, I’ll have to slowly play it bit by bit in between reviewing other Doom maps/WADs if I have to keep my sanity intact.

Also, forgot to mention in my Killing Adventure review that I am promoting that WAD to the main Revenant Awards ceremony.

S2: Cheogsh 2

Main author(s): Shadowman and Guest

Release date: November 19th, 2009

Version(s) played: ???

Required port compatibility: GZDoom

Levels: 7

The original Cheogsh map was one of my favorites from the 2007 Cacowards. And today, we will be looking at its (sorta) sequel, with more maps, more stuff, and being more ambitious. But after two years in development, did the main author’s ambitions overwhelm this WAD?

Okay, spoilers right not since I don’t care – IT DID.

But how much did these ambitions ruin the sequel to what I thought was a pretty good map? Well… Allow me to tell.

Review based on one playthrough with no screenshots (I really need to add it as a rule).

Oh, right. There is also a plot that is generic some marine dudes have gone missing and it all goes to shit from there. Not really much to talk about.

Now, to properly start talking about this WAD, I can at least say that, like the first Cheogsh, it looks great. It’s basically the same style as with the previous Doom map, but on seven, hub-based maps and adds new stuff like the crystal mines and buildings that weren’t originally in the city section.

Music was also great to listen to. I recognized at least three tracks from the first Cheogsh (which were already great), and the new ones are enjoyable to listen to. I wish I had more to say here.

Now, properly playing Cheogsh 2 is… oh boy… Where do I begin?! Remember how I said that the first WAD wasn’t really that complicated to play through? Well, it looks like the main author decided to snort some of that moon dust and turn it into an overly-complicated, mind-numbing filth that sucks the fun from playing this WAD.

Yeah, it’s one of those WADs that are style over substance. Now, it is not as painful to play before visiting New City of the Damned since you mostly depend on your sight to find important switches, where to go next (like through the passage in one of the gardens in Border Village), and knowing that three rooms are available near the library in Temple of Seth at the start. But as soon you reach the city itself, it all goes down the shitter.

Sure, in the previous installment, you had a similar section with the demonic city with catacombs in a temple, but there, while only the catacombs part felt like a too-dark, mangled maze full of switch hunting, here, not only the catacombs section is bigger than the original Cheogsh, but all of its cons spread to the city as well. It got so bad that I refused to go further without giving myself night-vision goggles through cheating each, bloody minute!

It was that painful to play this part; to the point that I thought I glitched the map until I found out that the silent teleporter that loops one section of catacombs can be beaten by running backwards as soon as you touch it. Now try figuring it out without a guide, you re*YOUTUBE*!

I’m not entirely sure if the cutscenes are better or worse here. On the one hand, you can change how long the dialogue stays on screen (once you bind the key, of course), so you can swipe them really fast if you don’t care about this shit. On the other hand, there are at least 1-2 cutscenes without dialogue that just show you what’s happening on the screen, and it takes a while for them to end. I’m not sure if they can be skipped as well, but I think it would be really beneficial if you were able to do that.

Aside from two new keys (black and white skulls in the city area), there are also a few new items such as blood flask and soul gems that are used for progression. There is also something called Osiris’ Eye; I’m not sure what it does, and I don’t even think I grabbed it when I played the WAD.

I don’t know what to think of the difficulty. It was far from being hard but there were moments that felt like an artificial bump in it, like the final boss and the mine section that I’ll get into in the moment.

Not to mention how I feel like the WAD sometimes respawns monsters when you move back to the earlier maps, and it feels like a punishment for not knowing what to do and where to go next.

The mine section is also annoying; you lose your weapons, and you have to find them back while wielding nothing but reskinned chainsaw. Oh, and also you end with a single-digit health. It kind of feels like a filler since it adds nothing to the WAD aside from the challenge that feels next to impossible if you try to get your guns back without finding secrets.

Of course, like the previous installment, Cheogsh 2 has new enemies. Aside from all of the enemies from the first Cheogsh (minus the boss from that map), there are also additional enemies like one new variant for Imp, Lost Soul, and Revenant (that pretends to be dead and is blue now), along with a couple of new Hell Nobles, like Afrit (the easy one). One of these is the final boss (I don’t know if it’s actually Cheogsh again); he reeks of bullshit due to shooting tiny, ridiculously fast projectiles and has shades that suck off your health fast as shit (and these are barely visible).

And… I guess that’s all what I have to say about this WAD. Cheogsh 2 is another WAD that collapsed under the author’s ambitions. It might be bigger in scope, but it also inflates the problems that were plaguing the previous installment along with adding new ones. Play the original map. It will give you more fun than this WAD (it gave me at least).

And since this is the only partial conversion runner-up I managed to beat (since I think I can stomach Happy Time Circus II for around an hour per day), I am promoting THIS WAD to the main Revenant Awards ceremony.

Hopefully, I will be able to/remember about finishing the scary clown Doom map part two.

Good thing that the next WAD on the list is from Eternal. Hopefully, it will wash out the stains this one left.

[rfhusnik]

There Is But One True City Of Sanctuary Parts One and Two

      Written By:  Rashon Leyf (Part One) and Orlon Braem (Part Two)

PART ONE

             Today, if not in a verifiable realness, then at least in a satisfying imagination, I’ve come to a tolerable acknowledgement of the relevance of all that’s occurred in the past, is occurring in the present, and may yet happen. And no one I think knows what should be considered a worthwhile understanding; nor does anyone understand what, or how much knowledge should be considered worthwhile to possess. But when I look at the world I see today, I know then that much of Earth’s past, present and future is unknown to me. It’s hidden from me. And yet, I’m so aware that my basic ongoing struggle is to simply navigate through the moments of the present. And yes, I’ve lived through an enormously small portion of the past, and the future will be mine in a very small installment.

Not long ago, when our city’s mayor George Jennifer informed me that “One True City Of Sanctuary” would be the last in what’s come to be a rather long series of internet postings, he said he envisioned it to be a disclosure of three parts. But he also said that as time passed, some other postings might yet appear, should their publication be deemed necessary by what he termed his “superiors from other earthly realities.”

            Well, apparently before we’ve even been allowed to “sign off” (as some people say) here, such a necessity has arisen! “One True City Of Sanctuary” was to have been a three part discussion written by myself (Part One), Orlon Braem (Part Two) and F. John Surells (Part Three). But when the various parts were received by our mayor, he determined that John’s Part Three would render the entire piece too long for submission. Yet, since he liked all of John’s words, he decided that rather than edit them, he’d simply use them as a separate posting. And he then informed me to edit my previously written Part One, to include within it what I’ve just divulged. Thus, welcome to what I guess will be the second to last in what’s become a rather long, yet in my opinion, well timed series of internet postings. Oh, and the mayor wants to apologize for previously informing readers that this would be the last disclosure. He said to me “Funny how easily plans believed to have been cast in stone can sometimes be broken. Oh, and Rashon, please remember to inform the readers that we reserve the right to publish yet again – down the road – especially since no one yet knows what the upcoming presidential campaigns will foist upon the American public.”

So, anyway. I suppose it’s rather unfortunate that a series of writings is basically ending. But, I feel it’s important to remember that perhaps the greatest topic that’s always been stressed in this forum is that people, places, and things change as years and eras pass. And yet, despite the truth of that previous statement, I feel it’s imperative for mortals to hold fast to those “realities of life upon Planet Earth” which have proven themselves to be of the utmost necessity to mankind as a whole. And although it may seem arrogant, or overly patriotic to say this, I think the continuance of the superiority of the United States Of America amongst all other nations should be a hoped for development in the decades and even perhaps centuries to come. But why would one say that? Simply, because the U.S. has shown itself to be a great mitigator of worldwide problems.

            Still, as years have passed, the great American nation has become infiltrated by massive numbers of foreigners who, despite what anyone says, will never be able to keep the U.S. as the world’s leader should they ever become its dominant ethnic majority. Yes America, if you don’t stop illegal immigration soon, eventually The United States Of America will become a Hispanic nation, joining all those others to its’ south. And, as dreadful as it is to ponder, who’s to say that at such a time, bogus reparations may not be sought from what had previously been America’s majority ethnic group?

            So, to stop that development is the challenge that we here in “the city” now leave to you the populace of the states in America, as we ourselves fade from a written spotlight. But of course time will continue on here as it will elsewhere. Yet our dedication here, where the outside world impacts us minimally, will be to continue on in the great lifestyle of the individual.  

                                                            PART TWO

            When I was a child, I lived in fear of all that surrounded me. My life was stressful because those I shared it with didn’t fully understand the specialness of the city in which we lived. And I feared that the life form that continued to breathe within me then, was but a phantom of all it probably should have been. But after I’d grown to adulthood, one day I received a call from our city’s then mayor Ralph Hawk. He told me that besides being mayor of our city, he was also the leader of a group of what he termed “underground types” who had recently been establishing residence along the northern banks of the river which divides our city economically as well as geographically.

            And as you know, I accepted Ralph’s invitation to join the artful types by the river. But whether I was worthy to be counted among them, or whether my words were ever of any value to mankind, still isn’t known. Maybe someday some of what I’ve said, done and written will be found to contain some societal, spiritual, humanistic, or God only knows what sort of merit. Nonetheless, I guess that’s all I can hope for now, and from this day onward, all I’ll be able to live for. But I must not allow myself to find a scapegoat within the sorrow induced by pity.

            Oh, and self-pity is such a demon! Yet I wonder if people often fail to note its great strength and influence. And I also wonder if they sometimes designate the blame for wrongful actions to it. But yes, we do know some of self-pity’s manifestations. Along the roadways of life we spot it as a driver out of gas, stuck in a ditch, stymied by a flattened tire, or involved in accidental mishaps – but not accidents of a truly dire nature – not those in which someone was really injured or killed. No, self-pity is too weak a force to have become involved in such developments. For whenever truly heinous acts or crimes have been committed, self-pity has turned over the commandeering of life’s vehicle to other dreadful emotions worse than itself. And yes, we’ve also known them. They’re such as jealousy, despair, anger, or a few others which are the most tempting jewels sent forth from the haven of damnation to terrorize mankind. But of course whenever those dread emotions may have succeeded in their quest to lure mortals into the perpetration of various evils or debasements, they’ve been pursued down the highways of existence by the police forces of law, order, civility, and human rights.

            But I’d have to say that, as is the case with most I suppose, my outlooks on life have been substantially founded upon my interactions with those of the older generations still alive while I was young. And I’ve always believed that my parents’ generation, the so-called “baby-boomers” felt the same about their parents’ generation as I do about them. I’ve heard it said that living through the Great Depression and the second great war cast a cloud of pessimism, and even a lack of the desire of advancement upon that generation (my grandparents). And probably, because it had become fearful of spending much money, that generation also became fairly conservative as regarded its lifestyle or, perhaps we might accept the fact than many of that generation were conservative socially, while being liberal politically; and that can be a dangerous mix, especially when the resulting confused, and frankly hypocritical mindset is eventually bequeathed to future generations.

            And that mindset has, I fear, promoted mediocrity, and discouraged personal advancement. And thus, life today it seems is being lived exceedingly more and more to placate the non-concerned, the non-informed, and most dangerous of all, the careless. And it seems we now live in a society in which all humans are encouraged to be the same. And yet, despite all attempts made to “level the playing field” (God, that’s a ghastly phrase!) over, oh, let’s say the last seventy or so years, so much disparity still exists between each and every human! But my main criticism of those who are sanctioning and implementing such attempts, is that I fear they’re  always too concerned with what they consider to be “chances to succeed,” rather than with the innate differences of ability which exist between all mortals.

            And, amidst all my passing thoughts and realizations lies the brutal fact that time continues, and ours is always less and less of it. And all those goals that we and others had – were they only rays of sunshine quickly clouded? And who were the really great mortals? Were they the dictators such as Stalin? Or were they the conquerors such as Alexander? And was Alexander really great?

            Of course many say that “the commoners” are really the individuals who are living correctly. But personally, my heroes have always been those mortals I’ve considered to be living “carefully.” Still, of course mine has also always been a troubled sense of questioning. And, because of such temporal confusion, I’ve always clung to the appeasing truths and falsehoods of “the city.”

[nickgerlich]

A Convenient Truth

Next time you are in your vehicle, take a look around and start counting how many convenience stores you pass en route to your destination. They are on practically every street corner, and there are often two or more sharing the same intersection. C-stores are among the most necessary of retail establishments today, especially since most now sell gasoline.

It wasn’t always this way. The first 7-Eleven opened in 1927. It and the ones that followed were tiny by today’s standards, did not sell gas, and were not beholden to street corner locations. Often they were in the middle of a block, which now seems ill-conceived in that it could not attract people from two streets.

Today, c-stores are much larger, have much broader selections of merchandise, sit on two or more acres, and may have a bank and/or fast food co-branded outlet inside. There are more than 150,000 of these today, and without them, most of us would find our lives increasingly inconvenient.

But there’s a growing chain that is spreading out of Texas that challenges the notion of what a c-store is. Buc-ee’s, with 58 units spread between here and Florida, considers itself a c-store. It’s just that their stores don’t look at all like a 7-Eleven. Oh, and they’re going to break ground soon in Amarillo.

The new store here will be 74,000 square feet and sit on 20 acres. Need gas? An array of 120 pumps will be there from which to choose. While it is not quite the biggest unit in the chain—the biggest is in Sevierville Tennessee with 74,700 square feet—it’s not far behind. But an even bigger one—75,000 square feet—is planned for near Ocala Florida.

Is it truly a c-store, though? One for thing for certain, it is not a truck stop, because trucks are not allowed. RVs are welcome, but you can’t spend the night. How about we just call them travel centers then? Given the location on Amarillo’s east side (near where US 287 branches off I-40), it will be among eight legitimate truck stops, meaning that travelers will have a plethora of choices. It’s little wonder why some people consider Amarillo to be a truck stop town.

As a marketing prof, I stand in amazement every time I stop at Buc-ee’s. No, it’s not because I am buying food or merchandise. To me it is crazy how Buc-ee’s has developed a cult-like following, and people will interrupt their travels for an hour to shop and dine there. They have shopping carts, something you don’t see in a c-store. Perhaps their biggest claim to fame is clean rest rooms. They are immaculate.

Although the chain dates to 1982, it is only in the last five years or so that it started its explosive growth, as well as venturing out of state. A large portion of the merchandise is private label foods, along with a wide variety of souvenirs ranging from t-shirts to plush toys.

And umbrellas. I confess. I bought one, not because I wanted to show my allegiance, but rather because I was trapped inside their St Augustine Florida store when a downpour broke out. It was either buy an umbrella, wait it out, or get drenched. I gladly forked over $15.

So powerful is the Buc-ee’s brand that it sometimes spawns other retail, hotels, and dining in proximity. Take the Terrell Texas store, for example, which is situated near where US 80 breaks off I-20 east of Dallas. The area has blossomed from just Buc-ee’s to three hotels and a variety of fast food and retail choices. All because of a c-store that attracts hundreds of customers each hour.

Given their popularity, I am surprised they have not adopted e-commerce. Their website is pretty basic, much like you would have seen in the late-1990s. This is a golden opportunity missed, because specialty clothing, toys, and packaged foods can easily be sold this way to folks not lucky (I suppose) to have a Buc-ee’s nearby. Then again, Trader Joe’s has followed a similarly austere marketing program with great success.

I have monitored social media reactions lately concerning the groundbreaking, and noted that some folks wondered why Buc-ee’s did not build on the west side, closer to where much of Amarillo lives. But Buc-ee’s is not building this for Amarillo people. No, it is building it for travelers. And all this at a time when QT has arrived in Amarillo, along with the return of Circle K, adding even more c-stores—and more in keeping with the typical size—to the mix.

I am pretty sure that when c-stores arrived on the scene nearly a century ago, no one could ever imagine how the genre has evolved, especially with Buc-ee’s. I’ll be watching for them to open in Amarillo, and will no doubt pay a visit. I won’t be going to shop but rather to people-watch. I’ll bring the umbrella just in case.

Dr “Fill ‘Er Up” Gerlich

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