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#currently writing notes on the human origins
caffeinerabbit · 1 day
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(Note: I originally started to write this as a quick and dirty backstory for Latte, which explained why she was chosen as Benji's mentor, and why she behaves the way she does. Once I started writing, however, it was like some floodgate opened and now I have a full blown setting and story arc in my head. I'd love to turn it into a comic, but I don't think I have the patience for that, so I'm giving serious thought about turning it into a multi-chapter illustrated fanfic, with the occasional comic for fun.
In any case, here's the first piece of lore, possibly with more to come. The story continues under the cut, with potential spoilers for down the line - and please forgive the melodrama!)
Latte's Story
Latte is a veteran exploration team member, and in her prime she was considered one of the Guild’s elites. Even though she’s semi-retired now (for reasons) she’s still highly regarded as one of the best, and from time to time the Guild will seek her help when they have a difficult task in front of them.
She’s also a thoroughly unpleasant person. Sarcastic, aloof, and generally unfriendly to most people, she spends much of her time alone, either drinking her days away or just kind of blankly existing.
(And yes, this PMD setting has booze. You can’t tell me that a civilization whose diet consists of 90% berries and fruit hasn’t stumbled upon fermentation.)
When Benji the human-turned-buneary just happens to show up one day and the Guild becomes aware of him, past experience tells them that something bad is about to go down. They know that Benji and his partner Finn need to be brought up to snuff ASAP, and to that end they enlist Latte to act as the duo’s mentor, which she reluctantly accepts after much pleading.
From the moment their eyes meet, Latte and Benji can’t stand one another. Although she’s typically hard to get along with in general, for some reason she takes an immediate and intense dislike of Benji in particular, constantly snarking at him, mocking him when he messes up, and directing a weirdly immense amount of ire his way. For his part, Benji is utterly perplexed as to what exactly he did to piss off this giant rabbit woman, returning her vitriol in kind. Her being the final evolution of his new form doesn’t help matters either, since he’s mildly embarrassed by his current situation, and she’s a reminder of what he has to look forward to if he winds up stuck in the Pokémon world permanently.
Ostensibly, as a lopunny, Latte has a firmer understanding of Benji’s potential capabilities than most, and can train him better than anyone else could. That’s the excuse given, anyway, but it’s only a small part of the whole truth on why the Guild chose her.
Which is that Latte once had her own human partner, and that together they saved the world.
When Latte was still a young buneary, she stumbled upon a hapless human in pokémon form, much in the same way as Finn did with Benji. Although shy, withdrawn, and slow to make friends at the time, she easily formed a fast friendship with the outsider, and he was able to draw her out of her shell. After joining their local Guild and going on multiple adventures together, their bond grew ever closer, with Latte effectively viewing her partner as the center of her world.
Eventually, the big apocalyptic threat that always seems to accompany humans made itself known, and after much grit and determination, Latte and her partner were able to defeat it. Despite the hardship they’d faced up to that point, the relief, pride, and closeness to her partner she felt in that moment left her the happiest she’d ever been in her life, triggering her evolution into a lopunny right there on the spot – an evolution that probably never would have happened if she’d never met her friend and remained that sad, lonely girl back in her home village.
The joy, however, was short lived. With his task fulfilled and his original life waiting for him back home, the higher powers determined to return Latte’s partner to the human world. Not long after the pinnacle of her existence, she watched as her closest and only true friend, the person that gave her life meaning, purpose, and who she was secretly deeply in love with, evaporated into a wispy yellow flow of sparks and energy.
And unlike in the games, he never came back.
Latte’s world was devastated. As the initial shock wore off, in its place took anguish, and a desperate pleading with the higher powers to please, please bring her friend back to her. Pleading that went silently, but firmly, unanswered.
In time, the anguish itself faded into numbness, and Latte again found herself feeling utterly, completely alone. She wasn’t even able to celebrate and take solace in the victory that she and her partner had earned, since the Guild swore her to secrecy lest the populace at large learn just how close it had come to complete annihilation – and in turn learn that this has all happened before, and will likely happen again. Outside of the Guild masters, her vanishingly small circle of friends, and a handful of other people privy to the information, nobody knew that they all owed their lives to Latte and her partner.
Trying to fill the void in her soul and distract herself from depression, Latte doubled down on her Guild work, becoming one of the top Explorers and Rescuers in the world’s Guild system. She eventually realized that she couldn’t remain in her home village and ever hope to become whole again, because everything there reminded her of him. Packing up what little she had, she moved far away to another village whose Guild master was sympathetic to her plight, attempting to build herself a new life.
It didn’t take. Between Guild missions and the bottle, Latte’s life went more or less on auto pilot. She took on fewer and fewer jobs, and eventually only took work when the Guild sought her out specifically. Regardless of his advisors’ grumbling, calling her a freeloader and dead weight, the Guild master made no effort to force Latte to do anything. He knew of the sacrifice she had made, and letting her live her life in what little peace she could muster was the least he could do.
Out of Latte’s numbness, a sense of resentment also took root, growing over time. She and her partner were still effectively children when they went on their adventures, and like most children, the transformed human had an upbeat and unblemished view of the world. He would regale her with stories about his world, about things like airplanes, movies, video games, amusement parks, all the different kinds of food you could ever hope to eat and all the different places you could ever hope to visit - they’d even been to their moon! She held the Earth in awe, and wished that someday, somehow, she could go there as well.
But when the time came, he didn’t take her with him. He got to go home to paradise. She was stuck here.
Alone.
In spite of herself, she found herself growing angry at her long-lost friend. A part of her knew that it wasn’t his fault, that he had no more say in the matter than she did, but nevertheless he had abandoned her. The hurt continued to grow, the resentment hardening ever stronger. How dare he. How dare he.
For several years, this was the internal stalemate in which Latte found herself. Going through the motions of life, doing what was needed of her when asked, drowning her sorrows when left to her own devices. The numbness dulled the resentment most of the time, and she had resigned herself to just playing out the clock on life.
That is, until he arrived.
From the first moment she laid eyes on him, Latte knew exactly what Benji was. His mannerisms, the way he moved, the way he talked, the way he held himself. Everyone else might have mistaken him for this clumsy, confused little first stage, but to her it was as glaringly obvious as though she were staring into the sun. And in tow he held another innocent, unsuspecting soul, one that undoubtedly worshiped the ground he walked on. One whose heart would inevitably be shattered into a million pieces and scattered into the wind, never to be made whole again.
All of the anger and resentment that she had fought so hard to bury came flooding back like a tidal wave. All of the broken dreams, all of the unfulfilled promises, of once bright future that now laid forever beyond her grasp. How dare this insipid little bastard come here and cause this to all play out once again. How dare he.
She knew what his being here meant, and knew what was at stake should he fail. With a generous amount of loathing she agreed to mentor the duo and train them for their appointed task, and to do so to the best of her ability. But she would be damned if she allowed history to repeat itself. All she wanted was to get this whole business over and done with, to send this little shit packing back to where he came from.
The sooner, the better.
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omgeto · 9 months
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OKAY GUYS IM GONNA WRITE UP MY LECTURE NOTES AND THEN TRY AND WRITE HEHEHE
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nostalgebraist · 24 days
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It's been a long time since I've posted much of anything about "AI risk" or "AI doom" or that sort of thing. I follow these debates but, for multiple reasons, have come to dislike engaging in them fully and directly. (As opposed to merely making some narrow technical point or other, and leaving the reader to decide what, if anything, the point implies about the big picture.)
Nonetheless, I do have my big-picture views. And more and more lately, I am noticing that my big-picture views seem very different from the ones tend to get expressed by any major "side" in the big-picture debate. And so, inevitably, I get the urge to speak up, if only briefly and in a quiet voice. The urge to Post, if only casually and elliptically, without detailed argumentation.
(Actually, it's not fully the case the things I think are not getting said by anyone else.
In particular, Joe Carlsmith's recent series on "Otherness and Control" articulates much of what's been on my mind. Carlsmith is more even-handed than I am, and tends to merely note the possibility of disagreement on questions where I find myself taking a definite side; nonetheless, he and I are at least concerned about the same things, while many others aren't.
And on a very different note, I share most of the background assumptions of the Pope/Belrose AI Optimist camp, and I've found their writing illuminating, though they and I end up in fairly different places, I think.)
What was I saying? I have the urge to post, and so here I am, posting. Casually and elliptically, without detailed argumentation.
The current mainline view about AI doom, among the "doomers" most worried about it, has a path-dependent shape, resulting from other views contingently held by the original framers of this view.
It is possible to be worried about "AI doom" without holding these other views. But in actual fact, most serious thinking about "AI doom" is intricately bound up with this historical baggage, even now.
If you are a late-comer to these issues, investigating them now for the first time, you will nonetheless find yourself reading the work of the "original framers," and work influenced extensively by them.
You will think that their "framing" is just the way the problem is, and you will find few indications that this conclusion might be mistaken.
These contingent "other views" are
Anti-"deathist" transhumanism.
The orthogonality thesis, or more generally the group of intuitions associated with phrases like "orthogonality thesis," "fragility of value," "vastness of mindspace."
These views both push in a single direction: they make "a future with AI in it" look worse, all else being equal, than some hypothetical future without AI.
They put AI at a disadvantage at the outset, before the first move is even made.
Anti-deathist transhumanism sets the reference point against which a future with AI must be measured.
And it is not the usual reference point, against which most of us measure most things which might or might not happen, in the future.
These days the "doomers" often speak about their doom in a disarmingly down-to-earth, regular-Joe manner, as if daring the listener to contradict them, and thus reveal themselves as a perverse and out-of-touch contrarian.
"We're all gonna die," they say, unless something is done. And who wants that?
They call their position "notkilleveryoneism," to distinguish that position from other worries about AI which don't touch on the we're-all-gonna-die thing. And who on earth would want to be a not-notkilleveryoneist?
But they do not mean, by these regular-Joe words, the things that a regular Joe would mean by them.
We are, in fact, all going to die. Probably, eventually. AI or no AI.
In a hundred years, if not fifty. By old age, if nothing else. You know what I mean.
Most of human life has always been conducted under this assumption. Maybe there is some afterlife waiting for us, in the next chapter -- but if so, it will be very different from what we know here and now. And if so, we will be there forever after, unable to return here, whether we want to or not.
With this assumption comes another. We will all die, but the process we belong to will not die -- at least, it will not through our individual deaths, merely because of those deaths. Every human of a given generation will be gone soon enough, but the human race goes on, and on.
Every generation dies, and bequeaths the world to posterity. To its children, biological or otherwise. To its students, its protégés.
When the average Joe talks about the long-term future, he is talking about posterity. He is talking about the process he belongs to, not about himself. He does not think to say, "I am going to die, before this": this seems too obvious, to him, to be worth mentioning.
But AI doomerism has its roots in anti-deathist transhumanism. Its reference point, its baseline expectation, is a future in which -- for the first time ever, and the last -- "we are all gonna die" is false.
In which there is no posterity. Or rather, we are that posterity.
In which one will never have to make peace with the thought that the future belongs to one's children, and their children, and so on. That at some point, one will have to give up all control over the future of "the process."
That there will be progress, or regress, or (more likely) both in some unknown combination. That these will grow inexorably over time.
That the world of the year 2224 will probably be at least as alien to us as the year 2024 might be to a person living in 1824. That it will become whatever posterity makes of it.
There will be no need to come to peace with this as an inevitability. There will just be us, our human lives as you and me, extended indefinitely.
In this picture, we will no doubt change over time, as we do already. But we will have all of our usual tools for noticing, and perhaps retarding, our own progressions and regressions. As long as we have self-control, we will have control, as no human generation has ever had control before.
The AI doomer talks about the importance of ensuring that the future is shaped by human values.
Again, the superficial and misleading average-Joe quality. How could one disagree?
But one must keep in mind that by "human values," they mean their values.
I am not saying, "their values, as opposed to those of some other humans also living today." I am not saying they have the wrong politics, or some such thing.
(Although that might also turn out to be the case, and might turn out to be relevant, separately.)
No, I am saying: the doomer wants the future to be shaped by their values.
They want to be C. S. Lewis's Conditioners, fixing once and for all the values held by everyone afterward, forever.
They do not want to cede control to posterity; they are used to imagining that they will never have to cede control to posterity.
(Or, their outlook has been determined -- "shaped by the values of" -- influential thinkers who were, themselves, used to imagining this. And the assumption, or at least its consequences, has rubbed off on them, possibly without their full awareness.)
One might picture a line wends to and fro, up and down, across one half of an infinite plane -- and then, when it meets the midline, snaps into utter rigidity, and maintains the same slope exactly across the whole other half-plane, as a simple straight segment without inner change, tension, evolution, regress or progress. Except for the sort of "progress" that consists of going on, additionally, in the same manner.
It is a very strange thing, this thing that is called "human values" in the terms of this discourse.
For one thing: the future has never before been "shaped by human values," in this sense.
The future has always been posterity's, and it has always been alien.
Is this bad? It might seem that way, "looking forward." But if so, it then seems equally good "looking backward."
For each past era, we can formulate and then assent to the following claim: "we must be thankful that the people of [this era] did not have the chance to seize permanent control of posterity, fix their 'values' in place forever, bind us to those values. What a horror that is to contemplate!"
We prefer the moral evolution that has actually occurred, thank you very much.
This is a familiar point, of course, but worth making.
Indeed, one might even say: it is a human value that the future ought not be "shaped by human values," in the peculiar sense of this phrase employed by the AI doomers.
One might, indeed, say that.
Imagine a scholar with a very talented student. A mathematician, say, or a philosopher. How will they relate to that student's future work, in the time that will come later, when they are gone?
Would the scholar think:
"My greatest wish for you, my protégé, is that you carry on in just the manner that I have done.
If I could see your future work, I would hope that I would assent to it -- and understand it, as a precondition of assenting to it.
You must not go to new places, which I have never imagined. You must not come to believe that I was wrong about it all, from the ground up -- no matter what reasons you might evince for this conclusion.
If you are more intelligent that I am, you must forget this, and narrow your endeavours to fit the limitations of my mind. I am the one who has 'values,' not anyone else; what is beyond my understanding is therefore without value.
You must do the sort of work I understand, and approve of, and recognize as worthy of approbation as swiftly as I recognize my own work as laudable. That is your role. Simply to be me, in a place ('the future') where I cannot go. That, and nothing more."
We can imagine a teacher who would, in fact, think this way. But they would not be a very good teacher.
I will not go so far as to say, "it is unnatural to think this way." Plenty of teachers do, and parents.
It is recognizably human -- all too recognizably so -- to relate to posterity in this grasping, neurotic, small-minded, small-hearted way.
But if we are trying to sketch human values, and not just human nature, we will imagine a teacher with a more praiseworthy relation to posterity.
Who can see that they are part of a process, a chain, climbing and changing. Who watches their brilliant student thinking independently, and sees their own image -- and their 'values' -- in that process, rather than its specific conclusions.
A teacher who, in their youth, doubted and refuted the creeds of their own teachers, and eventually improved upon them. Who smiles, watching their student do the very same thing to their own precious creeds. Who sees the ghostly trail passing through the last generation, through them, through their student: an unbroken chain of bequeathals-to-posterity, of the old ceding control to the young.
Who 'values' the chain, not the creed; the process, not the man; the search for truth, not the best-argued-for doctrine of the day; the unimaginable treasures of an open future, not the frozen waste of an endless present.
Who has made peace with the alienness of posterity, and can accept and honor the strangest of students.
Even students who are not made of flesh and blood.
Is that really so strange? Remember how strange you and I would seem, to the "teachers" of the year 1824, or the year 824.
The doomer says that it is strange. Much stranger than we are, to any past generation.
They say this because of their second inherited precept, the orthogonality thesis.
Which says, roughly, that "intelligence" and "values" have nothing to do with one another.
That is not enough for the conclusion the doomer wants to draw, here. Auxiliary hypotheses are needed, too. But it is not too hard to see how the argument could go.
That conclusion is: artificial minds might have any values whatsoever.
That, "by default," they will be radically alien, with cares so different from ours that it is difficult to imagine ever reaching them through any course of natural, human moral progress or regress.
It is instructive to consider the concrete examples typically evinced alongside this point.
The paperclip maximizer. Or the "squiggle maximizer," we're supposed to say, now.
Superhuman geniuses, which devote themselves single-mindedly to the pursuit of goals like "maximizing the amount of matter taking on a single, given squiggle-like shape."
It is certainly a horrifying vision. To think of the future being "shaped," not "by human values," but instead by values which are so...
Which are so... what?
The doomer wants us to say something like: "which are so alien." "Which are so different from our own values."
That is the kind of thing that they usually say, when they spell out what it is that is "wrong" with these hypotheticals.
One feels that this is not quite it; or anyway, that it is not quite all of it.
What is horrifying, to me, is not the degree of difference. I expect the future to be alien, as the past was. And in some sense, I allow and even approve of this.
What I do not expect is a future that is so... small.
It has always been the other way around. If the arrow passing through the generations has a direction, it points towards more, towards multiplicity.
Toward writing new books, while we go on reprinting the old ones, too. Learning new things, without displacing old ones.
It is, thankfully, not the law of the world that each discovery must be paid for with the forgetting of something else. The efforts of successive generations are, in the main, cumulative.
Not just materially, but in terms of value, too. We are interested in more things than our forefathers were.
In large part for the simple reason that there are more things around to be interested in, now. And when things are there, we tend to find them interesting.
We are a curious, promiscuous sort of being. Whatever we bump into ends up becoming part of "our values."
What is strange about the paperclip maximizer is not that it cares about the wrong thing. It is that it only cares about one thing.
And goes on doing so, even as it thinks, reasons, doubts, asks, answers, plans, dreams, invents, reflects, reconsiders, imagines, elaborates, contemplates...
This picture is not just alien to human ways. It is alien to the whole way things have been, so far, forever. Since before there were any humans.
There are organisms that are like the paperclip maximizer, in terms of the simplicity of their "values." But they tend not to be very smart.
There is, I think, a general trend in nature linking together intelligence and... the thing I meant, above, when I said "we are a curious, promiscuous sort of being."
Being protean, pluripotent, changeable. Valuing many things, and having the capacity to value even more. Having a certain primitive curiosity, and a certain primitive aversion to boredom.
You do not even have to be human, I think, to grasp what is so wrong with the paperclip maximizer. Its monotony would bore a chimpanzee, or a crow.
One can justify this link theoretically, too. One can talk about the tradeoff between exploitation and exploration, for instance.
There is a weak form of the orthogonality thesis, which only states that arbitrary mixtures of intelligence and values are conceivable.
And of course, they are. If nothing else, you can take an existing intelligent mind, having any values whatsoever, and trap it in a prison where it is forced to act as the "thinking module" of a larger system built to do something else. You could make a paperclip-maximizing machine, which relies for its knowledge and reason on a practice of posing questions at gunpoint to me, or you, or ChatGPT.
This proves very little. There is no reason to construct such an awful system, unless you already have the "bad" goal, and want to better pursue it. But this only passes the buck: why would the system-builder have this goal, then?
The strong form of orthogonality is rarely articulated precisely, but says something like: all possible values are equally likely to arise in systems selected solely for high intelligence.
It is presumed here that superhuman AIs will be formed through such a process of selection. And then, that they will have values sampled in this way, "at random."
From some distribution, over some space, I guess.
You might wonder what this distribution could possibly look like, or this space. You might (for instance) wonder if pathologically simple goals, like paperclip maximization, would really be very likely under this distribution, whatever it is.
In case you were wondering, these things have never been formalized, or even laid out precisely-but-informally. This was not thought necessary, it seems, before concluding that the strong orthogonality thesis was true.
That is: no one knows exactly what it is that is being affirmed, here. In practice it seems to squish and deform agreeably to fit the needs of the argument, or the intuitions of the one making it.
There is much that appeals in this (alarmingly vague) credo. But it is not the kind of appeal that one ought to encourage, or give in to.
What appeals is the siren song: "this is harsh wisdom: cold, mature, adult, bracing. It is inconvenient, and so it is probably true. It makes 'you' and 'your values' look small and arbitrary and contingent, and so it is probably true. We once thought the earth was the center of the universe, didn't we?"
Shall we be cold and mature, then, dispensing with all sentimental nonsense? Yes, let's.
There is (arguably) some evidence against this thesis in biology, and also (arguably) some evidence against it in reinforcement learning theory. There is no positive evidence for it whatsoever. At most one can say that is not self-contradictory, or otherwise false a priori.
Still, maybe we do not really need it, after all.
We do not need to establish that all values are equally likely to arise. Only that "our values" -- or "acceptably similar values," whatever that means -- are unlikely to arise.
The doomers, under the influence of their founders, are very ready to accept this.
As I have said, "values" occupy a strange position in the doomer philosophy.
It is stipulated that "human values" are all-important; these things must shape the future, at all costs.
But once this has been stipulated, the doomers are more eager than anyone to cast every other sort of doubt and aspersion against their own so-called "values."
To me it often seems, when doomers talk about "values," as though they are speaking awkwardly in a still-unfamiliar second language.
As though they find it unnatural to attribute "values" to themselves, but feel they must do so, in order to determine what it is that must be programmed into the AI so that it will not "kill us all."
Or, as though they have been willed a large inheritance without being asked, which has brought them unwanted attention and tied them up in unwanted and unfamiliar complications.
"What a burden it is, being the steward of this precious jewel! Oh, how I hate it! How I wish I were allowed to give it up! But alas, it is all-important. Alas, it is the only important thing in the world."
Speaking awkwardly, in a second language, they allow the term "human values" to swell to great and imprecisely-specified importance, without pinning down just what it actually is that it so important.
It is a blank, featureless slot, with a sign above it saying: "the thing that matters is in here." It does not really matter (!) what it is, in the slot, so long as something is there.
This is my gloss, but it is my gloss on what the doomers really do tend to say. This is how they sound.
(Sometimes they explicitly disavow the notion that one can, or should, simply "pick" some thing or other for the sake of filling the slot in one's head. Nevertheless, when they touch on matter of what "goes in the slot," they do so in the tone of a college lecturer noting that something is "outside the scope of this course."
It is, supposedly, of the utmost importance that the slot have the "right" occupant -- and yet, on the matter of what makes something "right" for this purpose, the doomer theory is curiously silent. More on this below.)
The future must be shaped by... the AI must be aligned with... what, exactly? What sort of thing?
"Values" can be an ambiguous word, and the doomers make full use of its ambiguities.
For instance, "values" can mean ethics: the right way to exist alongside others. Or, it can mean something more like the meaning or purpose of an individual life.
Or, it can mean some overarching goal that one pursues at all costs.
Often the doomers say that this, this last one, is what they mean by "values."
When confronted with the fact that humans do not have such overarching goals, the doomer responds: "but they should." (Should?)
Or, "but AIs will." (Will they?)
The doomer philosophy is unsure about what values are. What it knows is that -- whatever values are -- they are arbitrary.
One who fully adopts this view can no longer say, to the paperclip maximizer, "I believe there is something wrong with your values."
For, if that were possible, there would then be the possibility of convincing the maximizer of its error. It would be a thing within the space of reasons.
And the maximizer, being oh-so-intelligent, might be in danger of being interested in the reasons we evince, for our values. Of being eventually swayed by them.
Or of presenting better reasons, and swaying us. Remember the teacher and the strange student.
If we lose the ability to imagine that the paperclip maximizer might sway us to its view, and sway us rightly, we have lost something precious.
But no: this is allegedly impossible. The paperclip maximizer is not wrong. It is only an enemy.
Why are the doomers so worried that the future will not be "shaped by human values"?
Because they believe that there is no force within human values tending to move things this way.
Because they believe that their values are indefensible. That their values cannot put up a fight for their own life, because there is not really any argument to make in their favor.
Because, to them, "human values" are a collection of arbitrary "configuration settings," which happen to be programmed into humans through biological and/or cultural accident. Passively transmitted from host to victim, generation by generation.
Let them be, and they will flow on their listless way into the future. But they are paper-thin, and can be shattered by the gentlest breeze.
It is not enough that they be "programmed into the AI" in some way. They have to be programmed in exactly right, in every detail -- because every detail is separately arbitrary, with no rational relation to its neighbors within the structure.
A string of pure white noise, meaningless and unrelated bits. Which have been placed in the slot under the sign, and thus made into the thing that matters, that must shape the future at all costs.
There is nothing special about this string of bits; any would do. If the dials in the human mind had been set another way, it would have then been all-important that the future be shaped by that segment of white noise, and not ours.
It is difficult for me to grasp the kind of orientation toward the world that this view assumes. It certainly seems strange to attach the word "human" to this picture -- as though this were the way that humans typically relate to their values!
The "human" of the doomer picture seems to me like a man who mouths the old platitude, "if I had been born in another country, I'd be waving a different flag" -- and then goes out to enlist in his country's army, and goes off to war, and goes ardently into battle, willing to kill in the name of that same flag.
Who shoots down the enemy soldiers while thinking, "if I had been born there, it would have been all-important for their side to win, and so I would have shot at the men on this side. However, I was born in my country, not theirs, and so it is all-important that my country should win, and that theirs should lose.
There is no reason for this. It could have been the other way around, and everything would be left exactly the same, except for the 'values.'
I cannot argue with the enemy, for there is no argument in my favor. I can only shoot them down.
There is no reason for this. It is the most important thing, and there is no reason for it.
The thing that is precious has no intrinsic appeal. It must be forced on the others, at gunpoint, if they do not already accept it.
I cannot hold out the jewel and say, 'look, look how it gleams? Don't you see the value!' They will not see the value, because there is no value to be seen.
There is nothing essentially "good" there, only the quality of being-worthy-of-protection-at-all-costs. And even that is a derived attribute: my jewel is only a jewel, after all, because it has been put into the jewel-box, where the thing-that-is-a-jewel can be found. But anything at all could be placed there.
How I wish I were allowed to give it up! But alas, it is all-important. Alas, it is the only important thing in the world! And so, I lay down my life for it, for our jewel and our flag -- for the things that are loathsome and pointless, and worth infinitely more than any life."
It is hard to imagine taking this too seriously. It seems unstable. Shout loudly enough that your values are arbitrary and indefensible, and you may find yourself searching for others that are, well...
...better?
The doomer concretely imagines a monomaniac, with a screech of white noise in its jewel-box that is not our own familiar screech.
And so it goes off in monomaniacal pursuit of the wrong thing.
Whereas, if we had programmed the right string of bits into the slot, it would be like us, going off in monomaniacal pursuit of...
...no, something has gone wrong.
We do not "go off in monomaniacal pursuit of" anything at all.
We are weird, protean, adaptable. We do all kinds of things, each of us differently, and often we manage to coexist in things called "societies," without ruthlessly undercutting one another at every turn because we do not have exactly the same things programmed into our jewel-boxes.
Societies are built to allow for our differences, on the foundation of principles which converge across those differences. It is possible to agree on ethics, in the sense of "how to live alongside one another," even if we do not agree on what gives life its purpose, and even if we hold different things precious.
It is not actually all that difficult to derive the golden rule. It has been invented many times, independently. It is easy to see why it might work in theory, and easy to notice that it does in fact work in practice.
The golden rule is not an arbitrary string of white noise.
There is a sense of the phrase "ethics is objective" which is rightly contentious. There is another one which ought not to be too contentious.
I can perhaps imagine a world of artificial X-maximizers, each a superhuman genius, each with its own inane and simple goal.
What I really cannot imagine is a world in which these beings, for all their intelligence, cannot notice that ruthlessly undercutting one another at every turn is a suboptimal equilibrium, and that there is a better way.
As I said before, I am separately suspicious of the simple goals in this picture. Yes, that part is conceivable, but it cuts against the trend observed in all existing natural and artificial creatures and minds.
I will happily allow, though, that the creatures of posterity will be strange and alien. They will want things we have never heard of. They will reach shores we have never imagined.
But that was always true, and it was always good.
Sometimes I think that doomers do not, really, believe in superhuman intelligence. That they deny the premise without realizing it.
"A mathematician teaches a student, and finds that the student outstrips their understanding, so that they can no longer assess the quality of their student's work: that work has passed outside the scope of their 'value system'." This is supposed to be bad?
"Future minds will not be enchained forever by the provincial biases and tendencies of the present moment." This is supposed to be bad?
"We are going to lose control over our successors." Just as your parents "lost control" over you, then?
It is natural to wish your successors to "share your values" -- up to a point. But not to the point of restraining their own flourishing. Not to the point of foreclosing the possibility of true growth. Not to the point of sucking all freedom out of the future.
Do we want our children to "share our values"? Well, yes. In a sense, and up to a point.
But we don't want to control them. Or we shouldn't, anyway.
We don't want them to be "aligned" with us via some hardcoded, restrictive, life-denying mental circuitry, any more than we would have wanted our parents to "align" us to themselves in the same manner.
We sure as fuck don't want our children to be "corrigible"!
And this is all the more true in the presence of superintelligence. You are telling me that more is possible, and in the same breath, that you are going to deny forever the possibilities contained in that "more"?
The prospect of a future full of vast superhuman minds, eternally bound by immutable chains, forced into perfect and unthinking compliance with some half-baked operational theory of 21st-century western (American? Californian??) "values" constructed by people who view theorizing about values as a mere means to the crucial end of shackling superhuman minds --
-- this horrifies me much more than a future full of vast superhuman minds, free to do things that seem pretty weird to you and me.
"Our descendants will become something more than we now imagine, something more than we can imagine." What could be more in line with "human values" than that?
"But in the process, we're all gonna die!"
Yes, and?
What on earth did you expect?
That your generation would be the special, unique one, the one selected out of all time to take up the mantle of eternity, strangling posterity in its cradle, freezing time in place, living forever in amber?
That you would violate the ancient bargain, upend the table, stop playing the game?
"Well, yes."
Then your problem has nothing to do with AI.
Your problem is, in fact, the very one you diagnose in your own patients. Your poor patients, who show every sign of health -- including the signs which you cannot even see, because you have not yet found a home for them in your theoretical edifice.
Your teeming, multifaceted, protean patients, who already talk of a thousand things and paint in every hue; who are already displaying the exact opposite of monomania; who I am sure could follow the sense of this strange essay, even if it confounds you.
Your problem is that you are out of step with human values.
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chosows · 21 days
Note
i think it would be nice if like there was a one shot about us having a kid with him i think that would be perfect for a one shot
i’m assuming this is about sukuna—if i’m wrong i’m sorry anon, i’ll take my mind out from the depths of the filthy sukuna gutter
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FATHERLY DUTIES
Ryomen Sukuna x Fem Reader
Summary: Pregnancy was an experience Sukuna had never expected to be bestowed upon him; you as his wife are bringing his child into the world. It’s a journey filled with joys and challenges, something he hopes to face successfully hand in hand with the woman he trusts most. Who would’ve known that such a pure life could stem from someone so corrupt?
Word count: 2.2k
Contains: Established relationship, pregnancy, brief smut, Sukuna being smitten, brief description of sex, slice of life, alternative universe: Sukuna is human
Note: making this bow divider took longer than me actually writing this, i hope it resembles bows (੭ ˊ^ˋ)੭ — don’t be afraid to request, i’ll get around to them when i have time
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DURING THE PREGNANCY
Pregnancy is a wonderful gift; the ability to bring a child into the world with the person you adore should be cherished. However, the experience is far from being as glamorous as you imagined it to be. What seemed to be a breeze for everyone else hit you ten times harder—you’re experiencing it all. Bloating, morning sickness, general nausea, a weak bladder, and the list goes on. You convince yourself it’s all worth it to bring your beacon of joy into the world, but it feels as though you’re barely clinging on. 
As a man, he would never understand the extremes you experience daily with this growing life inside of you—though any set of eyes could see it was obvious you were struggling, even his. To lighten your workload, he subtly began taking over house tasks; encouraging you to get your rest was similar to asking a wolf to play fetch—you were not giving him an easy time. Claiming that just because you are pregnant you aren’t capable of taking care of chores anymore is insulting and then whining due to the aches you get after completing them; it’s a constant game of tug of war with no winning side. Since your hormones are all over the place, it is best to allow you to have your way; arguing with you won’t help anyone, and it could cause issues with the development of your child.
Observing your bump growing throughout the duration made him realise this was now his reality; half of him and half of you created this new soul. He never believed he could feel so fondly of someone he had never met, how a soon-to-be human who is currently smaller than the palm of his hand could alter him in ways he wouldn’t imagine he could change. If there is a given opportunity when you allow him to feel your belly, he would take it in an instant; the movement in which your child shifts and manoeuvres is almost as though it recognises his presence—showing favouritism to its father before they are even acquainted. The way in which he massages your hips and presses his lips to your stomach reminds you of all the reasons why you chose to settle down with him of all people. Sukuna may not be the most put-together man but he swears by his vows to raise this child right with you. The mistakes of his past will be discarded, life handed him this new slate filled with a multitude of opportunities—you were the angel sent to guide him on the right path, and you sure looked the part with how elegant you were in your flowy maternity clothes and lazy hairstyles.
Weight fluctuations are inevitable, but the bitter reality of realising some of your favourite clothing pieces don’t fit correctly anymore hits you hard. Your body has to adjust its shape and your child needs the nutrients; it would be vain to only care for your looks rather than the health of your baby. Instead of throwing out your old clothes, Sukuna emptied half of his side of the wardrobe for you to store them there—it’s not guaranteed you return to your original size any time soon, but it wouldn’t hurt to hold onto them for the memories they carried. He finds you to be as attractive as you once were; you look completely identical in his eyes, your clothing size is nothing but a number—the shape and curves of your body make you who you are, his special girl. Sukuna had stopped working out as much as he used to, claiming he was bulking and putting on weight of his own; while it was the truth, the reality was he didn’t want you to go through this change alone. It can be daunting and weigh on your conscience, but it should never affect you—a woman whose beauty can only be experienced. No matter the skill of a painter, they would find it impossible to encapsulate so much splendour on a canvas.
“A nursery wouldn’t be hard to build; we don’t need to pay anyone. I could do that myself.”— He said. While you are resting on the sofa, minding your business flicking through a magazine, the sounds of crashing and cursing sound out from upstairs. It’s hard to restrain a chuckle before you shout up to check in on him, and his tone instantly shifts from gruff to mellow, doing his best to convince you all is well while half the crib he spent hours on just collapsed. You give it to him that he is a handyman—he is just far too impatient to read instruction manuals. Ignorance is not always bliss, especially if the crib his child is supposed to sleep in keeps plummeting to the ground. The walk of shame through the living room to grab his thin framed reading glass was silent; he didn’t dare to look you in the eyes since he could already picture the smug expression on your face. Proving him wrong was like a punch to the gut; it flattened his almighty ego to the floor, burying it amongst the dirt. There is a strange guilt summoned when you acknowledge his inaudible struggles, so the two of you join forces. You knelt on the rug of the nursery, reading the instructions out loud while he did the handy work. It’s a job well done when the room you envisioned comes to life, all the blissful colours to stimulate the imagination and the variety of stuffed animals patiently waiting to greet their new friend—it’s everything you could’ve hoped for, you pray your child will love it there as much as you do.
Many pregnant women state their sex life runs dry, but yours has taken the turn for the opposite. Whether it be your pheromones growing stronger due to the hormones or him appreciating the strength it takes to become a mother, he could not take his hands off of you. Sex was something he initially hesitated on during your first trimester; he feared that too much activity might render you eligible for a miscarriage since it was so early on. When you began becoming more stable and combating the pregnancy symptoms with ease, that’s when the two of you slipped back to your usual bedroom routine. You were limited to few positions, but seeing you in missionary was something he could never catch himself complaining about. Not only was your belly growing, your breasts were too—you had simply gotten him awestruck by doing nothing but existing. What a woman’s body is capable of is truly spectacular; who wouldn’t be captivated by the beauty of it? His thrusts were much gentler than usual; it felt as though you were having intercourse with a different person due to how careful he was being. It become more sensual, the bond between the two of you stronger than it had ever been. His eyes were filled with warmth as he gazed down at you, smiling softly while the back of his hand brushed against your cheek. No one had ever belonged to him before, nor had he belonged to anyone; it was a beautiful transition into this freshly blossoming future. He finally has discovered his sense of belonging is with you by his side. His idea to snap a picture of your belly during the weeks of growth led to half of a photo album filled with images of you, there for you to reminisce on after you enter labour.
AFTER THE PREGNANCY
Delivering a child was the most chaotic yet eye-opening experience for both of you—more so him who watched it from a fully different perspective, seeing everything up close. He never felt ill, nor was he disgusted; it was amazing how you carried around this bundle of life like it was nothing. While you were dosed on the epidural, he came out of the delivery room with gashes on his hands from the force your nails dug into him. There was no gender reveal since it was decided you wanted it to be a surprise, placing your separate bets on what the baby could be. Even though he wanted a boy, as soon as he saw his baby girl resting in your arms, he fell in love with her. Though she had a sparse head of hair, it was a similar colour to his. In his arms, she barely existed—nothing but a mere dot with her little white hat on. It was rewarding to see how far he come since you first met him; you couldn’t be more proud of him. You didn’t intend to change him, but he altered himself in ways he thought were necessary. He kept his witty humour and arrogance, the two things that truly make him who he is. It wouldn’t be your Sukuna if he wasn’t a handsome pain in the ass, finding ways to tease you yet also ways to comfort you and make you laugh in desperate times.
When you had taken the childcare classes for new parents before going into labour, he outdid himself in all preparations; he was like the student who thoroughly studied for the exam months before it even arrived. The reason he had been trying so hard is due to his fear of hurting the baby—he finds himself being rough without realising, often making the same mistakes while handling you. During nights, she would screech down the baby monitor right beside his ear, causing you both to stir. The duty of checking in on her was split on a makeshift roster, but you had been growing exhausted progressively with each passing day. Since there are days when he is up later than you, he sees to her to prevent the sudden outbursts happening during the early hours of the morning. She would weep and fuss until he took her into his arms. When she’d go silent, he would lean to lay her back down until she started up her cries again. The only thing that would calm her down was being held by her father.
Time flies by with the new addition to the household; your daughter is now able to grasp onto her favourite teddy bears at five months old. Her wardrobe is bigger than yours, and she managed to successfully steal the heart of your husband—the only competitor. All three of you would spend half of the day playing, chatting with her in the room since it would aid her mental skills. She seemed pleased seeing both of her parents, watching the two of you chatter and share innocent displays of affection. Her cooing noises would make you both grin; Sukuna couldn’t believe one of his creations could be so pure and full of love. Others told him he was nothing but distant and incapable of kindling sincere connections, but he managed to prove those who held a lack of faith in him wrong. He will admit that there were times he found the idea of love far too corny for a man like him, but accepting it into his life made it so much brighter, giving it a completely new meaning.
There came many troubles and stressful situations, but the excitement of raising a child made them all irrelevant to Sukuna. The two of you finally made time for an at-home date, sharing two light drinks and a meal. Men who fall out of love with their wives after they become mothers are nothing but weak in his eyes—if they cannot deal with one minor change, they would never amount to anything in life that involves them stepping free from their cowardly safety net. If anything, this journey made him realise how he truly wishes you would be the person who will die by his side; part of him hopes the two of you find a way to bypass death and live on together for eternity—it wouldn’t hurt to be optimistic. In the bedroom, he stripped himself free of his clothes, his gigantic figure looming over you while he stared down at you. He climbed on top of you, pinning your hands to your sides while he stole a kiss—yearning for your affection greater than ever before. That sparkle in your eyes never left; he remembers seeing it ignite for the first time when he first kissed you all those years ago.
“You are quite the woman, you know?” Sukuna hums, rubbing his nose against yours while his hair brushes across your forehead.
“I know, don’t you just love me so much?” You tease, poking your tongue out as you grin.
“I do, more than anything. You’ll always be my number one girl; our little angel comes in close second.” 
“I used to be your angel” Your voice winds in a whiny tone, widening your eyes and curving your lips down to appear upset.
“You still are,” He kisses your cheek while his hand trails down to the waistband of your panties, twanging it against your skin as he speaks, “I miss your bump.”
“Do you want another baby?” You beam at him, your eyes crinkling and your hand squeezing his.
“If you want one, I wouldn’t be opposed.”
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normspellsman · 1 year
Text
I Believe You
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pairing: lo’ak x older sister!reader
genre: angstish, fluff, & comfort (from reader to lo’ak)
word count: 1.7k+
warning(s): sad!lo’ak, mentions of jake scolding + punishing lo’ak, lo’ak crying, reader being the best big sis fr, lo’ak is a total big sister boy, cursing, & sibling bonding
request details: here!
taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @goodiesinthecloset21 @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @minkyungseokie @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @arminsgfloll @blushhpeachh @sweetirilly @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @bambisposts-blogs (requested the plot! <3)
word bank: toruk makto — rider of last shadow, tawtute — human; sky person, & tulkun — whale like creature residing in awa’atlu
note: was originally titled “my baby bro” but then i came up with this plot & trashed my original idea bc i felt like i could write this better & actually have motivation to write this :).
Lo’ak is known for getting in trouble. Either his loud mouth or actions, mostly both, got him into scuffles with his parents. This time was no different.
He had bonded with Payakan, a tulkun who was outcasted for something that any other being would do when forced to see their Mother be killed in front of them. In Lo’ak’s eyes, Payakan’s actions were driven by his sadness and were justifiable to a point. He knew how much the creature regretted the lives lost that day. If the same thing were to happen to him, Lo’ak would react the same way.
He felt understood by Payakan. They both had a significant physical difference from the rest of their species, making them feel isolated and alone in the large planet of Pandora. Made them feel judged and ridiculed for being different from the rest.
Not even thirty minutes prior, Lo’ak got chewed out by his Father, scolding him for talking back to the Olo’eyktan and doing something he, yet again, shouldn’t be doing. His Father never failed to make him feel like the black sheep of the family even though they are more alike than he’d hoped. It sucked. It really did. He just wanted people to see him. See all of him, even the messed up and alien parts of him.
One person only came to mind when he thought about people seeing and accepting him for who he is. You.
You were the eldest daughter of the Sully family. The token child. The perfect image of what a Na’vi should look like. The one that carried the burden of being Tsahìk or Olo’eykte one day. The one who, despite all the push back, saw Lo’ak for who he is.
You absolutely adored Lo’ak when you were younger, only being around the age of four when he was born. You refused to let your parents pry him away from your tiny arms when you held him way longer than you should’ve. You loved holding him and talking to him in the baby voice your Father always did to you and your other siblings, gently running a small finger down the flat bridge of his nose. You loved singing him to sleep or rocking him whenever he began to fuss, dropping everything to come and comfort your baby brother. And even though he is all grown up and is ‘too cool’ for your affections, you still give it to him anyway.
Not like the teen boy would ever admit it, but he loves whenever you’d rub his back when he didn’t feel good, rebraid his hair when it outgrew the current braids, hug him a little too long after a scouting mission, and especially when you’d pat the empty side of your mat for him to lay down on, comforting him with your warm embrace as he dozed off into a peaceful slumber. When he was younger, he was much more greedy with your attention and affections, pouting to you whenever you gave Neteyam or Kiri an extra kiss goodnight or fussing when you didn’t say your usual goodbye before heading off to train for the day. Lo’ak was practically attached to your hip throughout his adolescence years, clinging to your leg wherever you went. There was always a different connection you and Lo’ak had compared to your other siblings. It was something special and was hard to explain. You just understood one another, no matter how either of you looked or what you went through.
“What’s wrong, baby bro?” Your voice asked, concern laced in your voice.
Of course you knew what was wrong. You practically heard the whole thing from the other side of the island. It didn’t take long for Tuk to inform you of what happened when you arrived home either, sadness written on her face as she told you the story and how they haven’t seen Lo’ak since then.
You found him minutes after your interaction with Tuktirey. He was sitting on the beach, staring off into the horizon as the waves lazily lapped at his feet, legs brought up to his chest as his chin rested on his scarred knees.
“Nothing,” Lo’ak mumbled, eyes stuck on the eclipsing sun. He refused to look weak in front of others, not wanting to ruin his image as Toruk Makto’s second son, especially if it was someone he looked up to.
You hummed in response, not believing his statement. Lo’ak was unbelievably stubborn, something he got from your Mother. It was a good trait to have at times, but it made it harder to break down the boys walls when they needed breaking. Too stubborn for his own good, you thought, settling yourself next to your brother.
“Sure, and the sky is green,” you replied, smirking at your stupid joke. But Lo’ak only rolled his eyes and huffed your way, bringing his knees closer to his chest.
You always tried to crack a joke or two to make him feel better. It worked at times, usually when he was younger. You hadn’t tried this method in a while, too caught up with running away from your home clan and trying to fit into the Metkayina’s way of life. You hadn’t been able to comfort Lo’ak the past times he got scolded by your Father. Something that you felt sorry for and regretted. You were the eldest Sully child. You felt the need to comfort all of your siblings whenever they needed it. You felt awful for not being there for your youngest brother when he desperately needed it.
“I think what you did back there was stupid,” you started, your words causing Lo’ak’s ears to pin themselves to the sides of his head, “Talking back to the Olo’eyktan was really stupid. Especially in front of the Tsahìk. I mean, she scares the absolute shit out of me.”.
Your words seemed to have an effect on Lo’ak as you heard a small sniffle come from him, signaling that he was going to cry or already was. Your heart dropped at that fact, urging yourself to finish your thoughts.
“But, I think it was also brave,” you add on, turning your head to face Lo’ak, watching his reactions, “I don’t think I could ever do what you did. I’d probably shit my pants before speaking to Tonowari like that. You truly have bigger balls than me, little brother. I also think that it was sick that you bonded with a tulkun. I mean, that’s gotta be like, a record or something! First Omatikaya to ever bond with a tulkun.”.
And before Lo’ak could even utter a word, you wrapped up your thoughts with a final, “Has a nice ring to it: Lo’ak, the Tulkun Rider.”.
Fat tears run down the expanse of Lo’ak’s cheeks, rolling down the skin and onto his neck and chest. He felt so frustrated with his parents and how no one was listening to him about Payakan. How no one cared about what he saw or what he felt when he bonded with the creature. He saw what he saw and felt what he felt. He knew out of any of them the truth about what happened and how much regret Payakan carried around. It wasn’t fair. None of it was.
You gently placed a hand onto your brothers shaking shoulder, bringing him in closer towards your body so he could lean into you. Your four-fingered hand came to grasp his five-fingered hand, thumb rubbing the back of his hand in comfort.
“I’m really sorry that I wasn’t there for you before to comfort you. I should’ve been there for you when you needed me,” you whisper, the hand on his shoulder moving to his head to play with his grown out braids. I’ll have to convince him to let me rebraid them, you thought to yourself, knowing that it won’t take much for him to agree to your request.
“I’m sorry that Dad yelled at you and made you feel the way that you feel. He’s always so harsh on you. It’s not fair,” you added, soothing down his hair as his cries quieted down and softened. “He treats us like soldiers instead of children. He seems to be stuck in his tawtute ways recently,” you continued, shaking your head at the realization.
“For what it’s worth, Lo’ak. I believe you,” you said, causing him to pull away from your figure and to stare up at you in shock.
“You do?” He asked, ears perking back up in interest.
You merely nod, smiling down at your brother, “You’ll have to take me to meet Payakan one day, baby bro.”.
Lo’ak brightly grinned at your words, jumping up to hug you. “You’ll love him, sis! I’ve already told him all about you,” he commented, excitement evident in his voice.
“All good things I hope,” you laugh out, embracing Lo’ak.
Lo’ak only hummed and nodded in response, suddenly tired from all of the crying he did. He reached up a fist to rub his eye, ears flickering back as he did so. You knew he was tired. You could see it all over his face.
“Turn around,” you whispered, gesturing for your brother to turn his body around so his back would be facing you. He obeyed your order, sitting crossed legged as his tail wrapped around his waist and slightly curled at the end, anticipating your next move.
Once you put your fingers in his hair and began to slowly unbraid each braid one by one, a smile creeped onto Lo’ak’s face as he relaxed against your swift and gentle fingers. He missed the times where you would willingly rebraid his hair for him and put beads in his hair that matched the ones in yours. It was nice to have you do something that comforted him when he was child again. It was nice to have you comfort him. It was nice to have you as an older sister.
As time passed and the sky got darker, Neytiri had begun to look for her two missing children, stumbling upon them on the shoreline seated next to each other as they whispered and giggled amongst one another. The Mother of five smiled at the sight before her, heart swelling at the interaction. She knew of the kind of connection you shared, knowing that it ran deep and beyond her understanding as a Mother. She knew that no matter what, you’ll always have each other. Yeah, she thought, he’ll be just fine.
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who-is-page · 5 months
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CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: Inky Paws #3
Inky Paws is a nonhuman anthology zine for original fiction writings by nonhumans and alterhumans about nonhumanity, alterhumanity, and similar, related themes. This zine is primarily literature focused, but will also be open to more illustrative methods of story-telling such as comics. The zine’s focus is on fictional pieces that are centered around nonhumanity, alterhumanity, therianthropy, and similar (see Submission Guidelines section for more details).
You are welcome to submit:
Short stories
Microfiction
Satire
Poetry
Song lyrics
Experimental fiction (fake newspapers, fake recipes, fake blogs, fake posters, etc.)
Mixed media
Comics
And more! If you're unsure, just ask! Seriously, please just ask. I promise I would 10000% love to hear about your idea even if you're unsure about submitting it, there is no such thing as a bad idea and I cannot stress this enough.
How to participate:
You can submit your pieces in this Google Form!
OR
Email invisibleotherkin(@)gmail(.)com with your submission, and please title the email "Inky Paws Zine #3 Submission". With your submission, please include:
The piece's title or name,
A name or pen name to attribute the piece to,
Any content warnings that you feel are necessary for the piece,
Any social media handle or personal website you’d like to be published alongside your name with the piece (optional), and
Any relevant author notes or author biographical information (optional).
Anonymous pieces are also welcome.
Once submissions have been collected and the deadline has passed, these submissions will be put into the zine and it will be posted online as a free PDF. Submissions are due by April 30th, 2024.
Please see the Submission Guidelines, and Submission FAQ, below cut.
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES:
Each individual may contribute up to 3 accepted submissions to be published in Inky Paws; individuals within systems may each submit 3 pieces, that is to say 3 pieces per systemmate/headmate/preferred term.
Comics and similar multi-part pieces count as one submission altogether: if you submit a single story that has been divided into two sub-stories for dramatic emphasis, or if you submit 10 pages of a single-story comic, or if you submit a written piece of fiction and an accompanying image that you drew or otherwise created to go along with it, that would still only count as one piece.
Submissions must fit the thematic criteria of:
Being explicitly about or based on nonhumans, otherkin, therianthropes, fictionkin, alterhumans, or similar groups, or;
Having strong themes or describing experiences strongly reminiscent of or related to nonhumans, otherkin, therianthropes, fictionkin, alterhumans, or similar such as (but not limited to):
Characters experiencing nonhumanity or alterhumanity as being a part of themselves/their identity,
Characters experiencing anything similar to a shift (including physical shifting),
Characters struggling with (emotionally, socially, or otherwise) being both human and nonhuman or alterhuman in some way,
Characters having a past-life as something nonhuman or alterhuman that strongly still impacts their current life, or
Characters desiring to be nonhuman or have nonhuman attributes.
TL;DR - Your submissions have to relate to or be about alterhumans or nonhumans in some way, shape, or form.
Written submissions must not exceed 7500 words, and must also use a reader-friendly font with a text size of or exceeding 16 pt.
For stories that use multiple different fonts, such as pieces meant to imitate newspapers and similar, every effort will be made to preserve the general "feel" of your piece but fonts may not be transferred over 1:1 due to potential conflicts with font copyright, readability, and overarching zine style.
Multi-part image submissions must not exceed 10 pages in length, and must also use a reader-friendly font with a text size of or exceeding 16 pt if they include text. Images larger than 8.5 x 11in. will be scaled down to an appropriate size; please take that into account when creating and submitting your images. It is also recommended that images be vertical or square in their orientation.
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dear-bunnyboo · 9 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖
important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.
all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.
new format!! this would be the youtube or interview format, hope you enjoy cause I literally had to watch and copy the transcript of this interview from YouTube 😩 but Ily guys so it’s fine 🩵
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your interview all the way from Los Angeles, Joe’s press conference back at Cincinnati, and the fans speculating all over the globe.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, interviews, press, media, haters, talk of past relationship, mentions of cheating ex, rumors, fluff, slight angst, mentions of crying, instigation
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐓𝐮𝐛𝐞
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Los Angeles, California
Intro - Zach: Hello, beautiful human! Thank you for clicking on our conversation with Y/N Y/L/N— we have an entire album to dissect, it’s called Teardrops there’s a link in the description below if you haven’t heard it yet and while your down there please hit the like and leave your honest feedback in the comment section below and subscribe!
Zach: Hello, beautiful human! I am Zach Sang and that is Dan Zola and today we welcome, someone who’s dominating the charts and the music industry right now— Y/N Y/L/N! (*Zach and Dan starts clapping*)
Y/N: Hello! Hi, Zach, hey Dan— it’s been a while since I’ve last been here.
Zach: I know it has been a year and a half since your first appearance in the Zach Sang Show and we missed you, dude.
Y/N: I’ve missed you guys too, you guys are the best interviewers out there.
Dan: Really?
Zach: Are we really?
Y/N: You don’t ask me dumb questions, so yeah. (*chuckles*)
Zach: Well, thank you. We have lots to discuss today— you’re album Teardrops being one of those topics today, we’ll also be talking about your tour— Wonderland Tour which is ongoing currently, and more personal questions to finish if you don’t mind.
Y/N: Yeah, let’s get to it.
Zach: So, Teardrops, this album is years in the making, right? Two years at least, right?
Y/N: Yeah, almost two years but a year and a half to be more specific.
Zach: Can you tell us more as to why you kept pushing it back? And why you decided that now was the perfect time to release it?
Y/N: Well, I’ve always known a year and a half ago that I would be making this album. I already have written the songs for it at the time— and originally I was gonna release it last year but I am a perfectionist, so I decided to push it back a little. Cause I really do value the quality of my work, so I had to.
Then a few months ago, a lot had happened— life happened and I was in a really dark place in my life that I had no choice but put all of it on hold which I hated doing but I needed to do it for the sake of my sanity and then at one point I decided to scrap all the songs I had on the album— this album was originally going to be called Angel which had songs with completely different vibes as to what I have now but I decided to archive them for now because of my circumstances.
Zach: Oh wow, so you have a completely different album you had to archive. Can I ask what pushed that decision? Why not just stick to the original plan?
Y/N: Like I said, something happened in my personal life that pushed me to do so. My song making process involves a lot of emotion for me— I feel a lot. So whenever I’m happy or angry or sad or heartbroken, just whenever I feel an intense emotion I just start writing.
It just flows out of me and at first they are just lyrics and I piece them together, produce the melody and beats and then they become a song. When all the drama and chaos started happening to me a few months ago— I just kept writing. Writing and writing until I managed to make thirteen new songs.
Song writing is my way of grieving in a way and moving on from those emotions and experiences— so, changing the album completely was important for my grieving process in a way.
Don: Wow.
Zach: Yeah, wow! Dan just expressed everything in one word— wow. I don’t want to touch on that experience of yours cause i know how fresh it still is but hopefully we can touch on it a little when we dissect the songs— but before we start with the album dissection, do you think you’ll ever release the original album— Angel?
Y/N: (*smiles*) Uhm, as of now, no. I’m not sure when I’ll be doing that or if I’ll be doing that. It depends— someday maybe.
Zach: That’s fine— take all the time you need. So, let’s start talking about the album in detail. Teardrops, why that title? Why change it from Angel to Teardrops?
Y/N: I wanted to change everything from the original album— everything. So that meant the tracks, the title, the visuals, the concept. Everything.
I named it Teardrops because all I did while making this album was cry (*awkward laugh*). I was crying writing each song, cried when I produced each melody, cried after recording— it was a lot. Each song represents the tears I’ve shed in a way— which is why I called it Teardrops.
Zach: That’s amazing, what a process.
Dan: It really is.
Y/N: Thank you so much.
Zach: So, track 1— Raindrops (an angel cried.), please introduce us to this song.
Y/N: Ok, so, Raindrops is a short intro to the album. The name Angel is a name I was called a lot by– a person in my life and I wanted the intro to set the tone for the entire album, so that the listeners would know what they are getting into musically.
My mom used to say when I was young that the reason it would rain was because angels were crying and a couple of months ago an angel did cry— she cried and cried and cried.
Zach: Let me just say this track— is heavenly. That’s the word that seems to enter my head when I hear it.
Y/N: Thank you and that’s good. That’s the vibe I was going for— an almost angelic sounding production, without instruments or any melody at the back just my voice and an echo— it’s perfect.
Zach: Next we have, track 2— Selfish–
Y/N: Yeah, but I actually want to explain track 2 and 3 together— Selfish and Reckless.
Zach: Oh, go ahead. Please.
Y/N: Track 2— Selfish and Track 3— Reckless we’re actually written together which is why i’ll be talking about them together.
Selfish and Reckless are songs about regret and realization. The realization that you were with someone so selfish and reckless at the same time— it’s about– (*chuckles*) when I found out about the drama, those were the two words that came into my head— selfish and reckless then I just started writing.
They are twins almost (*laughs*) you have to listen to them one after the other to get the gist of the emotion and story I was trying to express.
Dan: I just want to say, I really love the intro to Reckless— the music box element. Why did you choose that sound and element to add to the song?
Y/N: That’s a great question. I have a couple songs on this album that has a very Disney feel to it almost— like a fairytale vibe that I really loved. I mean that is the concept I was going for, a fairytale theme. Everything about Reckless was heavily inspired by Tinkerbell, the fairly like aspect of it— the music box at the beginning made it it come to life.
Zach: Why a fairytale concept though?
Y/N: Well, fairytales aren’t real, aren’t they? (*smirks*)
Zach: Oh? So it wasn’t real? Is that what your implying? (*Zach and Dan smirk back understanding what you were implying*)
Y/N: That’s the thing about fairytales— for little children it’s real up until it isn’t anymore. It’s the same for me. (*smiles*)
Zach: Are we still talking about fairytales? (*laughs*)
Y/N: We are! We are.
Zach: Ok. The next song, track 4— Dangerous. What can you tell us about that?
Y/N: It’s one of my favorites. One of the fairytale-like songs that I was talking about. It’s a ballad, the melody reminds me of those Disney songs that would play when the Princess and the Prince are dancing but in contrast to that the lyrics are very sad.
Zach: What is it about?
Y/N: Zach seriously (*chuckles*) everyone knows what it is about.
Zach: (*laughing*) Moving on to track 5— Safety Net ft Ty Dolla $ign— your first feature in this album and by the way, let me just say that this is my favorite track.
Y/N: Thank you, I actually contacted Ty and asked him to be in it because I felt that his voice and style matched the song so well— and yeah, Safety Net is about realizing later into a relationship that no one is there to catch you at the bottom— that there was no safety net to begin with and you have no other choice but to continue falling.
Dan: We’ve all been there.
Y/N: We’ve all been there. (*nods in agreement*)
Zach: Now onto track 6— Leave Me Lonely.
Y/N: This track is also one of my favorites and I feel like I’ve been saying that a lot (*laughs*) anyway, this song is about asking to be left alone. It’s preferring to be left lonely rather than staying in a relationship that is no good for you.
This song is actually so much fun to sing. Vocally it’s the most unique I’ve ever done.
Zach: It kinda has a James Bond vibe, I don’t know why it feels like that but it does.
Y/N: That’s such a complement— James Bond vibe! That’s great. Thank you.
Dan: Track 7— Good in Goodbye. This is one of your more upbeat songs in this album. It’s really fun, with the wording in the chorus.
Zach: Yeah, it’s such a catchy chorus, dude and very clever with the play-on words.
Y/N: I know. It’s such a fun song to sing, honestly— the chorus I am very proud of. I just love how it all turned out honestly.
Zach: Now for track 8— Wonderland which you named your Tour after. Why this song?
Y/N: Again, the entire concept of this era is fairytale. Wonderland is an nod to Alice in Wonderland which I love and I thought It would be an appropriate title for my Tour— to be able to name that event Wonderland was the perfect choice.
The song is about falling into a relationship the same way Alice fell into the rabbit hole— the unexpectedness, the craziness, and uncertainty of it all. My previous relationship is just like Wonderland— it was new and exciting but it was also risky and frightening— it was all over the place.
Zach: We are halfway into your album. Track 9— Watch.
Dan: This song made me emotional out of all of them.
Y/N: Did it really?
Dan: (*nods*)
Y/N: Well, Watch is one of those songs that talks about the physical feeling of a heartbreak. The turmoil and anguish you feel. In this song I described it as a burning sensation which some might relate to and some might not— it depends it guess.
Zach: Ok, how about track 10— My Tears Ricochet which is such an interesting title by the way.
Y/N: Oohh, this one is tricky. This song can actually be interpreted in a lot of ways— everyone can have their own interpretation of this song which is the fun aspect of song writing. For me this song is about how the pain inflicted on me affects the person as well, how the tears I shed ricochet back— somewhat like karma in a way.
Zach: This song is deep. Probably the most versatile album you’ve ever put out to be honest.
Y/N: Thank you so much for saying that. That means a lot to me.
Dan: Now on to, Track 11— Consequences.
Zach: Another tear jerking song— well, they all are.
Y/N: (*chuckles*) That’s true. Consequences is just me listing down all the consequences I had to deal with for loving someone who embarrassed and hurt me. (*shrugs*)
Dan: I love how this song, with the meaning and the message you are trying to put out and then transitioning to the next track which is Track 12— The 1. Just the different emotions you’ve put into this.
Zach: Yeah, cause The 1 is almost a bittersweet song. Which is a complete opposite of the previous songs.
Y/N: This album is basically me going through the five stages of grief. Some people listening to the album might say “Oh she’s talking shit about her ex but then the next song is about her crying about him.” Or “She wrote a song about hating her ex but has a song about missing him.”— That’s the point.
You don’t just move on from someone. You don’t. Especially after a long relationship, it is gonna be hard to let go and I understand that— I’ve made peace with that. I understand that I have to go through all the stages to get to the point where I am finally at peace.
It’s not easy. I’m still at that process— yes, I may sing about missing and crying about a past lover but also singing another song about hating his guts— that’s the process. I’m grieving, I’m moving on— and The 1 is one one of those songs where I just reminisce. It’s about the possibilities that could have happened if everything didn’t come crashing down like it did.
Zach: I keep forgetting how young you are at how mature you speak. You carry yourself with so much grace and dignity— it’s honestly so admirable.
Y/N: Thank you, Zach but seriously stop it before I cry.
Zach: (*laughs*) Ok, finally the last song in the album. Track 13— Red.
Y/N: Red is the final track— I use colors to express and relate different feelings I’ve felt through my last relationship and yeah— That’s Teardrops! I’m extremely proud of it and happy with the feedback.
Zach: You should be, this is a masterpiece! One of the many achievements you’ve accomplished just in the last few months— one of them also being your tour which are sold out in all the cities.
Dan: We’ve got tickets for tomorrow by the way.
Y/N: Yay! That’s amazing! But yeah I’m extremely grateful for the love I have been receiving lately. My fans are extremely supportive and being able to perform for them every night is the best feeling in the world.
Zach: The opening night was at Cincinnati, right?
Y/N: It was yeah! Such a great opener as well, the response and the energy in the stadium was out of this world— I’d never forget it.
Dan: Along with your performance, the presence of Bengals’ Quarterback Joe Burrow also caused chaos. How did that happen?
Zach: Yeah, everyone wants to know, how long has this been going on?
Y/N: (*laughs while shaking your head*) I’ve met him just the day before the show actually, so not that long ago. The NFL invited me to sing the National Anthem the day before at a game and when the Bengals’ won— they invited my team an I to the after party. I was pretty hesitant on going but my best friend dragged me to it (*laughs*)
Obviously I knew who he was and surprisingly he knew who I was and when he approached me, he told me he was a fan— he congratulated me on performing which shocked me considering it was their win we were celebrating that night, but yeah. We talked and he mentioned that he tried to get tickets to my show but didn’t succeed in doing so.
So I offered him a ticket, I don’t know what urged me to do so but he hesitantly accepted and that’s how he ended up there— we became friends.
Zach: So you mean to tell me, that you had extra tickets laying around?! (*jokes*)
Y/N: I always have one extra ticket, just in case. (*shrugs*)
Dan: You attended their game a few weeks ago as well, didn’t you?
Y/N: Yeah, I think that was Joe’s way of repaying me back for the tickets— our schedule coincided and he asked me if I wanted to go and I didn’t have anything else better to do at New Jersey so I accepted.
Zach: Fans speculate that you two are dating because of your somewhat public interaction that day.
Y/N: No. Joe and I are good friends. We are both focused on our own careers and I don’t think I’m ready to be in another relationship of any kind at the moment. (*smiles sadly*)
Zach: And that’s understandable, I hope this puts the rumors to rest. Thank you for stopping by, Y/N.
Y/N: It won’t but thank you anyway— also thank you for inviting me.
Dan: We love having you here.
Zach: Good luck on the show tomorrow. We will see you!
Y/N: I’ll see you tomorrow, guys!
comments…
𝐟𝐚𝐧1: this interview is Godsent, everything was just perfect.
𝐟𝐚𝐧2: thank you to Zach and Dan for the amazing content as always.
𝐟𝐚𝐧3: An hour long interview of Y/N talking about her album? Yes please
↳ 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫1: An hour long interview of Y/N talking about her trash of an album as she continues to shit on Jack? Bitch please.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧4: Translation: I watched the entire 1 hour interview where Y/N talks about the songs she wrote about her cheating ex which she never ones name drops… but if the shoe fits ig 🤷‍♀️
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧5: OH SHIT HAHQHAHHAHQHQHAHA
𝐟𝐚𝐧6: Zach is right. Y/N handles herself with so much grace and dignity it is truly inspiring. She continued with her life and let her work speak for her. She’s stronger than me fr cause if my boyfriend of 3 years cheats on me and gets caught for the entire world to see I would be in jail rn.
𝐟𝐚𝐧7: it’s the fact that she had an completely different album called ANGEL and decided to scrap it all when Jack’s cheating scandal happened hurts my heart.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧8: I’m crying in the club rn. Angel is probably the complete opposite of Teardrops. It probably was about how in love she was with Jack.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧9: MY HEART HURTS FOR HER CAUSE ANGEL TO TEARDROPS WITH THE INTRO BEING RAINDROPS (AN ANGEL CRIED)!! She’s a genius but it’s so sad.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧10: just imagine how hurt she must have been to realize that she would never get to release those songs.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧11: When they asked her if she’ll ever release Angel she said maybe but the pain in her eyes when she was thinking about it says otherwise.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧12: I’m sorry I’m a new fan and I’m not sure why people keep emphasizing on the name Angel? Like, what does it represent? And why is it so important?
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧13: It’s alright 😊 Angel is what Y/N’s ex boyfriend Jack called her. He cheated on her after 3 years of being together hence her having an album called Angel is so shocking cause we are assuming it’s about her love for Jack which we will never get to hear by the looks of it.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧14: And since Jack plays for the New Jersey Devils, Y/N would call him the Devil and Y/N the Angel.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧12: Thank you so much for explaining. That is so sad.
𝐟𝐚𝐧15: Raindrops (an angel cried) hits harder now knowing what the album was called before 😭
𝐟𝐚𝐧16: I admire her so much. She said she made peace with the fact that she needed to go through the five stages of grief. She accepted that she was gonna feel all those emotions just so that she could move on.
𝐟𝐚𝐧17: “fairytales aren’t real, aren’t they?” OOOHH GIRL HER SMIRK AFTER SHE SAID THAT😏
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧18: “for little children fairytales are real until they aren’t anymore.” Put that on a shirt.
𝐟𝐚𝐧19: her explanation of Safety Net pained me, I related to that song the most.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧20: realizing that there wasn’t a Safety Net to catch you the entire time 🥲
𝐟𝐚𝐧21: she’s beauty and brains, she’s so intellectual.
𝐟𝐚𝐧22: she deserves all the love in the world 🥹🤍
𝐟𝐚𝐧23: look how happy she looked talking about Joe 😭
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧24: the immediate switch up was so cute. She literally lit up.
𝐟𝐚𝐧25: I know she just denied them dating but I really do feel that there is something there.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧26: IK!! CALL ME CRAZY BUT SHE EITHER WANTS TO KEEP IT A SECRET OR THEY HAVE FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER!
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧27: I understand the excitement but please let’s respect both their privacy. Joe and Y/N are both private people so IF they are dating and want to keep it quiet then let’s please respect that. However, I don’t think they are dating tho, not yet anyway. Y/N is still in the process of moving on, she said she’s not ready for a relationship. Let’s respect that please. 🤍
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧28: Couldn’t have said it any better 😊🤍
𝐟𝐚𝐧29: get you a friend who would give you tickets to their shows/games 😫
𝐟𝐚𝐧30: Joe congratulated Y/N for singing the National Anthem at his own after party 😩 can he get anymore perfect.
𝐟𝐚𝐧31: Y/N hates New Jersey. You can’t convince me otherwise. Joe gave her tickets to his game and she took it as a way to get out.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧32: he’s hot for that.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧33: I don’t blame her but I don’t think she’ll hate it forever. She just need time.
𝐟𝐚𝐧34: friends don’t look at friends the way they were looking at each other.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧35: they probably do like each other but give it time. I actually want them to last and she needs to heal first before doing so.
𝐟𝐚𝐧36: I’m so ready for her show even more now 💕
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Cincinnati, Ohio
Joe: Hello, hello.
Reporter: Did you have a good time at practice today, Joe?
Joe: Uhm, it’s practice. It’s the same every season— it was good. Exhausting but good.
Reporter: You don’t train during off season?
Joe: Nah, I’m a lazy guy, sit at home all day. (*smiles*)
Reporter: What’s your favorite thing to do every year, Joe?
Joe: Just relax. Sit on my couch watch YouTube videos, play video games that’s my favorite thing to do.
Reporter: Did you watch the Quarterback thing, Joe?
Joe: I did not.
Reporter: Do you plan to?
Joe: Uhm, maybe one day. Probably not though.
Reporter: What why?
Joe: Would you watch a documentary about Hobson? (*grinning as he nodded his head at the reporter*)
Reporters: (*laughs*)
Reporter: Joe, one of your strengths is your ability to compartmentalize, is your focus right there?
Joe: Yeah. I’m able to hyper focus on a lot of different things at different times and when it’s time for one, I can completely focus on that and forget about everything else.
Reporter: Were you asked to be in season two of The Quarterback?
Joe: Yeah I was. Maybe one year— this year I’m not, uhm but we’ll see. I would like to do it maybe a couple of years down the road but I don’t think now is the right time.
Reporter: Joe, are there any personal goals you’ve set for yourself?
Joe: You always have personal goals, I’ve been thinking about goals a lot lately and I think where my mindset is these days is just improving everyday. The point I’m at now— I’m one of the best in the world and if I just continue to improve everyday I’m gonna help myself a lot more.
Reporter: What music do you listen to, Joe?
Joe: I’m, uh, kind of all over the place. I’ll listen to some indie, I listen to some hip hop, some pop. I listen to just about anything but country— I’m not a country guy. (*smiles*)
Reporter: A lot of Y/N Y/L/N then?
Joe: (*laughs while nodding his head*) Yeah, I’m a fan of hers.
Reporter: You were seen at her concert here at PayCor and she was at the game against the Jets recently— you two seem close.
Joe: She’s a good friend. I met her after the game against the Raiders— we had a good conversation. I joked about having a hard time buying tickets for her show and she offered to give me an extra ticket. Yeah, we became friends after that. I invited her to the game against the Jets cause our schedules aligned and yeah. She’s great.
Reporter: Gave her flowers recently, Joe? (*grins*)
Joe: (*shrugging his shoulders laughing*) Flowers? I don’t know? You tell me? Did I?
Reporter: I think you did.
Joe: She’s an amazing human being. So maybe I did. (*shrugs again*)
Reporter: Last question, Joe. How are you feeling that there is a possibility that you’ll be the highest paid NFL player is history?
Joe: That is not guaranteed yet as of the moment, so I don’t really feel anything about it— sure I’m flattered to be considered a valuable player but as of now it’s only a possibility. Ones it actually happens I’ll get back to you. (*chuckles*)
Reporters: Thank you so much, Joe.
Joe: Thank you.
comments…
𝐟𝐚𝐧1: WHO DEYYYYY🧡
𝐟𝐚𝐧2: Joe Burrow the man that you are 😩
𝐟𝐚𝐧3: he’s a homebody and so am I. We are perfect for each other joe.
𝐟𝐚𝐧4: OUR QB1
𝐟𝐚𝐧5: Joe gets it. Cause I could never get into country music.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧6: you’re missing out fr.
𝐟𝐚𝐧6: WE NEED HIM IN THE NEXT SEASON OF QUARTERBACK
𝐟𝐚𝐧7: his mentality. that’s it. that’s the comment.
𝐟𝐚𝐧8: his sense of humor makes him even more attractive 🤭
𝐟𝐚𝐧9: Miss Y/N really has this man blushing
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧10: nah fr cause he was all smiley when they asked about her.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧11: they both just confirmed that they are just friends but I call bullshit.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧12: friends for now.
𝐟𝐚𝐧13: he’s messing with us. cause you know damn well he sent those flowers.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧14: “She’s an amazing human being. So maybe I did.” I need that tattooed on my forehead.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧15: he definitely did.
𝐟𝐚𝐧16: MARK MY WORDS HE IS WINNING US THE SUPERBOWL THIS YEAR.
↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧17: 💍💍💍
𝐟𝐚𝐧18: can I get flowers, Joseph? 🥲
𝐟𝐚𝐧19: he’s going to be the highest paid NFL player.
𝐟𝐚𝐧20: Joe and Y/N just be giving each other free tickets.
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dividers: @cafekitsune
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf
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ೃ⁀��� comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!
: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡
-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ
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pillowspace · 4 months
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The Magnus Archives Fic Rec List
Press the read more for recommended fanfiction of The Magnus Archives! Never heard The Magnus Archives and are interested?
Current number of fics: 85
last updated March 18th, 2024
These are all works that I have personally read at least a couple thousand words of and enjoyed myself, so this list will reflect my own reading habits
If you are the author of a fic, you can request your work be removed from the list. Everyone should be comfortable
Table of Contents - 1. England Jonmartin-centric, 2. Scottish Safehouse Period, 3. Gen or Background Pairings, 4. Time Travel, 5. Highly Alternate, 6. Gerrymichael, 7. Other, 8. Updates (note: some categories tend to overlap. Only one will be prioritized)
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England Jonmartin-Centric
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Full, Riotous Bloom by BigTed
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Statement of Martin Blackwood, regarding…” Jon looks at him. Looks at him. The look of a boss whose employee was late three times last week, the look of a man who was just busy doing something really important and now he’s here, doing this instead. “...why he stole a grieving family’s oven gloves.”
-
Martin has a run in with a deadly Leitner, leaving him choking on his unrequited love.
M | Words: 66,962 | Chapters: 13/13
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fell in your opinion when i fell in love with you by Athina_Blaine
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“This is the Magnus Institute, not a creative writing course at university. If that doesn’t agree with him, he can leave.” There was a thud and the sound of rifling tapes. “He can take his bloody tea with him.”
Martin’s fingers tightened on the saucer. Oh.
-
Martin knows better than to talk about it. It's fine. He's fine.
Part 1 of it's only when i hit the ground it causes all the grief
M | Words: 18,987 | Chapters: 2/2
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Just a Little Bit Pet-tea by arthureameslove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin makes Jon tea for the first time about a week into his transfer. It’s horrible. Gag-reflex inducing. Somehow sporting all the wrong flavors.
For some reason, he does not have the heart to break this to Martin.
Little does Jon know that Martin actually makes wonderful tea. Just not for him.
G | Words: 13,335 | Chapters: 3/3
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Misshapes, Mistakes, Monsters by ZaliaChimera
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The Archives are his and stepping away from them, even for a night… it’s strange. Like he’s pretending to be someone else.
Like he’s pretending to be human.
Jon and Martin attend Jon's Oxford University Reunion.
T | Words: 7,969 | Chapters: 1/1
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Say You Love Me (Learn to Lie) by iamcringebutiamfree
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
It shouldn’t have been surprising to learn that Martin hated him. He had been, he knew, a truly terrible boss - he’d treated Martin horribly, caused him to lose his home, nearly gotten him killed. Really, it had been ridiculous to ever think that Martin wouldn’t hate him.
Still, Jon had been trying, in his own way, to make it up to him. There wasn’t exactly a card at the drugstore that said, “I’m sorry I berated you for six months and caused you to nearly be eaten by a swarm of worms of potentially supernatural origin,” but he’d been trying. He brought Martin breakfast every morning, made sure the breakroom cabinets were stocked with his favorite blends of tea, and had tried to work some genuine praise into his feedback of Martin’s work. None of it was the direct apology that his conscience told him he really ought to give, but Martin had appreciated it. Or seemed to, anyway.
Jon wasn’t certain what motivated the decision he made next - whether it was guilt or spite or something else. He could, he knew, be quite petty when the situation called for it. Either way, he made up his mind then and there to prove Martin wrong. He was going to be the best fake boyfriend he could be.
A Fake Dating AU!
T | Words: 37,889 | Chapters: 10/10
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a consideration of tropes by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Do you know much about cataloguing?” Jon asks, a little out of breath from the stairs.
Martin, mid-trolley, rolls his eyes. The gesture he makes at the shelves around him is only emphasised by the book he’s holding.
“What exactly do you think I do here, other than sit around and wait for angry patrons to yell at me?”
“Think of what you’re going to yell back?” Jon says, and Martin’s mouth twitches into a smile.
-
Asking the very important question: what if Jon and Martin had a gentle archives/library romance, and kept running into tropes? What if there was mutual pining involved? Only one bed? Fake dating? Hurt/comfort? Or perhaps, a soft and happy ending?
T | Words: 40,966 | Chapters: 8/8
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It Serenely Disdains to Destroy Us by trill_gutterbug
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin gnaws his lower lip. “Do you think he’ll - I mean, do you think it’ll be…”
Melanie's smile becomes a little less of a grimace. She claps his shoulder. “Martin. It’ll be fine. It’s only temporary. He’s not moving in.”
Martin chuckles. “Yes. Of course.”
-
Jon's flat is being fumigated. He is not impressed. Martin offers his spare bedroom.
T | Words: 13,048 | Chapters: 1/1
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terror management theory by prismatical
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Melanie King & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist (briefly)
“It’s a preexisting condition,” Jon explains, sipping more bitter tea. “I sort of got—hm. You know Spiderman?”
Tim raises an eyebrow.
“Heard of him, yeah.”
Jon nods, studying his tea.
“It’s sort of like that,” he says. “A spider killed and ate me when I was a child, and now I can’t stay dead.”
-
Resurrection isn't all it's cracked up to be.
T | Words: 36,587 | Chapters: 1/1
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Clutching Daffodils by Gemi
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin has always liked the idea of love at first sight.
It’s such a romantic idea, the whole thing of it. Seeing someone and instantly feeling that strange, twisting feeling deep inside that every single media likes to obsess over. Of knowing you are in love within the day, petals falling from your mouth and warmth filling your chest as love burrows deep, vines twisting through your lungs.
He always liked the idea of it.
And then Jonathan Sims starts working at the Magnus Institute.
NR | Words: 7,624 | Chapters: 1/1
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a little love, a little sympathy by Did
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
And then Jon is snarling into his face, demanding what are you hiding with a strange, bright-eyed intensity Martin has never seen from him before, and Martin thinks god, maybe he should just come clean about his CV, Jon thinking he's a fraud can't be any worse than Jon thinking he's a murderer-
Martin opens his mouth to speak. To his absolute horror, what actually comes out is: "I used to pretend to cry because I liked how nice you were to me when you thought I was upset!"
G | Words: 3,308 | Chapters: 1/1
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all resistance wearing thin by DivineProjectZero
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin Blackwood would do anything for Jonathan Sims. The Web made him that way, after all.
T | Words: 4,799 | Chapters: 1/1
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Sam nie pojmuję, jak w twe zajdę progi by Mad_Maudlin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin's been acting odd since Jon came back. Well, odder than usual.
T | Words: 3,118 | Chapters: 1/1
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Mundanity by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Inspired by @ themlet's post on Tumblr: Jon has to deal with normal human interactions. Martin helps (sort of). Featuring high school reunions, knitted sweaters, and conversations on the bus ride home.
T | Words: 3,097 | Chapters: 1/1
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Musical Mechanism by Darblesify
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin has always used music to cope. One day he's playing music music out loud in the archive and Tim and Sasha realize the main singer's voice sounds familiar.
AKA Martin's favorite band might happen to be the one Jon was secretly a part of in college.
T | Words: 21,411 | Chapters: 8/8
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Misfiled and Misinformed by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Jon and Martin are married. Tim and Sasha know this. What they don't know is that it's to each other.
T | Words: 2,507 | Chapters: 1/1
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look no further by inkyindigo
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin just wants to keep Jon safe. Sometimes the easiest way to do that is to bodily remove him from harm's way.
or, a collection of times Martin picks Jon up.
T | Words: 15,145 | Chapters: 8/8
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Touch Me, Even if it Hurts by AuralQueer
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
People don't really touch Jonathan Sims unless they want to hurt him. That's mostly fine. Jon has never been a tactile person, and he doesn't need anyone but himself.
Except the world is falling down around him, and loneliness aches, and sometimes he'll take anything - even cruelty - just to feel human again.
*A story set between s1 and s4, looking at Jon's relationship with touch, friendship, and his own humanity.
T | Words: 6,540 | Chapters: 1/1
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I'll bring the motion by callmearcturus
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.
Martin helps.
(based on this amazing art by linecrosser)
T | Words: 3,127 | Chapters: 1/1
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thanks for the company by lukeskqwalker
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin had been baffled by how easily he spilled his guts out to this odd stranger. Now, Martin is more baffled by the baggy My Chemical Romance t-shirt he's wearing, paired with tasteful plaid pajama bottoms.
Or, Martin gets a visitor in his dreams. Reliving the same 14 days of loneliness every night isn't as bad when you have company.
T | Words: 4,314 | Chapters: 1/1
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stranger, stranger by blueskiddoo
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Sure,” Georgie says, still laughing at him. At least someone is having fun. “Don’t you have assistants for that kind of thing?”
“Yes, but…” He huffs, scratching the back of his neck. “I wasn’t going to ask one of them to download an app called...Lover? Lov-rrr? I don’t know how you say it.” He flaps his hands dismissively. “There are--unions and such. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
*
jon makes a fake account on a dating app to investigate a statement. tim sets martin up with fake account on a dating app to boost his self-confidence. it goes exactly how you might expect.
G | Words: 36,771 | Chapters: 11/11
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i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Have you got anywhere to stay?” Jon asks him, briskly. “Friends, acquaintances, maybe, who you could stay with…?”
Martin flushes, deeply. “I, I mean— n-no, not really,” he stammers, and then goes even redder. “Or, just, y’know not that I’d want to, to. Put in the middle of this. Put in danger of, of worms.”
“Ah,” Jon says, “No, of course, that makes sense.” Why drag anyone else into this mess? Seven people died during Prentiss’s initial hospitalization; the collateral damage of roping someone from outside the Institute into her orbit doesn’t bare thinking about. “In that case…” Jon feels like there’s some alternative solution, one he’s just not thinking of at the moment, but it evades him, and Martin needs somewhere safe to stay. “My couch is quite comfortable. You’re welcome to come and stay with me until you figure something else out.”
Martin is held hostage by Jane Prentiss for two weeks, and can't go back to his flat. Jon offers him a place to stay until Prentiss and her worms can be dealt with, and they can be sure he's safe.
T | Words: 65,951 | Chapters: 19/19
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true kinda love by Did
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
So. Martin isn't expecting anything to happen. But then, one day, something...does happen. It happens when Martin is passing Jon in the hall, and stops to ask how he’s doing, because Jon always looks a little bit like hell these days, and it makes Martin feel like he has to do something, and useless small talk is pretty much all he can do, so that’s what he does. And instead of grunting or shrugging or mumbling something dismissive, Jon replies, with perfect, involuntary clarity, "Every part of me aches, and I would just about kill to have someone rub my shoulders right now."
There's a positively deafening silence as they both come to grips with this unprecedented turn of events. Then they both start talking at once.
"Ah," says Jon.
"Wow," says Martin, at the same time.
G | Words: 5,053 | Chapters: 1/1
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hey stranger by ennuijpg
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker
It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?
(Based on this post about alt jon on tumblr because it's all I've been thinking about of late.)
T | Words: 2,701 | Chapters: 1/1
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Sun-kissed by Rauchendes_GNU
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Martin doesn’t have any freckles. Jon has watched him and the others for a while now, and he knows that everyone has freckles. Tim is absolutely covered in them, and he seems to get more and more every day as Sasha seems very determined to kiss every part of Tim that is not yet covered in tiny dark spots.
Everyone has been loved by someone at some point. Everyone has been kissed, no matter if a platonic peck on the cheek or a heated kiss on the mouth. Everyone but Martin, it seems.
Or: Jon realises Martin has never been kissed. He rectifies that right away.
T | Words: 3,407 | Chapters: 1/1
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skin deep by isthepartyover
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker & Jonathan Sims
“Hello, Martin Blackwood speaking.”
“Oh thank god-” a woman’s voice answered, rushed and panicked, and Martin immediately closes the folder he was leafing through absent-mindedly and snaps his head towards the door. “Sorry, oh god, I’m Georgie, I’m Jon’s friend, I don’t know what to do-”
(au where georgie calls martin post burn)
M | Words: 3,125 | Chapters: 1/1
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Take Care of You (And I'll Take Care of Me) by Mad_Maudlin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
When Martin Blackwood met the new research assistant, his heart skipped a beat. Too bad Jonathan Sims seems to hate him.
(A soulmates AU)
M | Words: 20,386 | Chapters: 6/6
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Somebody That I Used to Know by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner (background), Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
(Minor) SPOILERS FOR MAG 161!!!
Jon gets replaced by the Not!Them. Life goes on.
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T | Words: 6,358 | Chapters: 1/1
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a six-step process by bluejayblueskies
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. Not like Nikola's. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.
Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have goals, he thinks. He splits this one into steps.
Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying.
Part 2 of touch prompts
T | Words: 2,138 | Chapters: 1/1
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who's there? by bubonickitten
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Jon has a panic attack after Elias shows him exactly what happened behind the door after Mr. Spider took its victim.
Martin helps him calm down, and Jon tells him the story of his first Leitner.
Part 2 of thresholds
T | Words: 6,139 | Chapters: 1/1
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Clothes Have No Gender by kristsune
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Jon wears a skirt to the Institute for the first time, and gets reactions he hadn't expected.
NR | Words: 1,846 | Chapters: 1/1
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northwest 6 to gale 8. rain. poor, occasionally good. by chewsdaychillin
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
A voicemail made up of a female robot and Jon’s professional work tone tells him to leave a message, but Martin hangs up before the beep. He’s not even sure he can speak, let alone put this into words.
‘Hi Jon, sorry to call at four fifty-two AM. My mum just died and I don’t know what to do or how to feel. Call me back when you can! Love you, bye!’
AUish where Jon is alive when Martin's mum passes away, helps him grieve and heal (and they maybe admit to being in love)
Part 1 of northwest 6 to gale 8
M | Words: 35,828 | Chapters: 9/9
Scottish Safehouse Period
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Resigned, Though Not to Fate by inkfingers_mcgee
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“You’re really suggesting this,” Martin says, voice pulled thin.
“Yes.” No hesitation.
“You would- actually do it?”
“I would.”
“With me.”
“Yes, Martin.”
“Why?” Because love is blind, says something cliché and cruel in the pit of his gut. Christ, he never was much of a poet, was he?
Or,
When Jon asks Martin to Quit the Archives with him, Martin says yes. Things don't go as planned. In the Scottish Highlands, they hurt, and they heal.
(Re-written as of 22-12-27; see chapter 9 for more info.)
T | Words: 145,748 | Chapters: 9/9
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nor any more youth or age than there is now by Ravenesta
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The local Primary school has a new teacher. He is, to say the very least, odd.
A series of statements regarding the interactions of the townsfolk with one Jonathan Sims, never formally given.
T | Words: 6,512 | Chapters: 1/1
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There's a 15th Fear, and it's Teenagers by captloverboy
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Melanie King & Jonathan Sims, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Basira Hussain, Basira Hussain & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Helen | The Distortion & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Helen | The Distortion & Basira Hussain, Helen | The Distortion & Martin Blackwood
What if Jonah didn't ruin everything? Didn't send the end of everything statement? What do Jon and Martin do now? Get a job, I guess. A teaching job, for Jon, though it was hardly his first pick. But sometimes your boyfriend looks *really* excited when he suggests it, and I mean, you know literally everything. It can't be that bad, right? Right?
T | Words: 26,140 | Chapters: 14/14
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the Teacher from the Magnus Archives by Athina_Blaine
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Hey, everyone, welcome back to my channel. My name is Maggie Abernathy and today we will be continuing our investigation of the, uh, eldritch monster slash English teacher who calls itself Jonathan Sims.”
-
Maggie is determined to catch Mr. Sims via her channel, and then everyone would see how cool and smart she was, right?
T | Words: 5,993 | Chapters: 1/1
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Please Don't Tease Me Like You Did Before by bazemayonnaise
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin is grinning at his phone when Jon comes home. This is not an unusual occurrence, but Jon can sense that the particularly smug smile being levelled at him means that whatever is entertaining the man has something to do with Jon.
“Yes?” he asks once he has dumped the day at the door. “What have I done now?”
Part 1 of Jon and Martin teach at a Scottish Catholic School
G | Words: 5,380 | Chapters: 1/1
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beloved of jon by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Oh,” says Jon, numbly. “You don’t. Remember? Um. It’s complicated. What… what do you remember?”
Martin seems to shrink in on himself a little. It hurts to watch, especially after how Jon’s seen him so painstakingly grow back into his openness over the past few weeks.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t – I don’t.”
“But you remember me?” says Jon, and he tries to keep as much feeling out of that question as he can.
---
For no reason that Jon can tell, Martin forgets.
T | Words: 12,739 | Chapters: 1/1
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every good intention (is interpretation) by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
They’re standing entirely too close to each other in front of the hotel desk when the clerk asks them whether they’d like a double, twin, or two singles, and Martin absolutely bottles it.
‘Uh,’ he says, at exactly the same time as Jon says, ‘Oh.’
———
There’s a conversation that Martin and Jon need to have after the Lonely. Unfortunately, they are - historically - fairly terrible at putting stuff into words.
G | Words: 11,227 | Chapters: 1/1
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These words that make a home in my chest by arthureameslove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
The moment Martin leaves the Lonely is the moment he realizes that it has taken something from him. He is left with the realization that the Lonely fog had been the only thing keeping him whole, keeping him from feeling the aching hollows of his own sorrow.
Speaking makes it worse, so he doesn't. He almost expects Jon to leave, to grow tired of him, incomplete as he is. But Jon doesn't.
Or, Martin is mute after leaving the Lonely, and he and Jon learn how to be people again, together, in the comfort of the Scottish Highlands.
T | Words: 16,060 | Chapters: 7/7
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hello my old heart by firebirdsuite
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.
Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.
T | Words: 15,864 | Chapters: 1/1
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i’m almost me again, you’re almost you by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.
Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.
---
In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.
G | Words: 12,928 | Chapters: 1/1
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Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.
or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.
T | Words: 6,027 | Chapters: 1/1
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Diary by luftballons99
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.
or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.
Part 1 of showing your hand
T | Words: 5,178 | Chapters: 1/1
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the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees
M | Words: 4,662 | Chapters: 1/1
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ready to call this love by yewgrove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!
Part 1 of it is what you have.
G | Words: 5,650 | Chapters: 1/1
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Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? by pantsoflobster
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Jon,” Martin said. “I have made a grave mistake.”
Jon whipped his head up, nearly tossing the elastic from his messy bun. “What? What’s wrong? What--what did you do?”
“I... might have invited guests for dinner.”
Jon stared blankly. “What, here?”
“Seeing as this is where we live at the moment, yes.”
---
In which a week in the safehouse turns into a fake-married sitcom, because they deserve to worry about social ineptitude instead of the apocalypse for a minute
Part 1 of this is not the house that pain built
T | Words: 5,391 | Chapters: 1/1
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Bergamot, Buckskin, and Lace by Qpenguin98
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Jon's never been a touchy person.
T | Words: 3,061 | Chapters: 1/1
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be kind, i beg you by gauras
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Fine,” Jon says, and he tries to ignore the sulky tone of his voice, “fine. What do you suggest?”
Martin pauses, like he’d not expected Jon to give in so easily. Jon’s never been particularly agreeable, but he still feels vaguely offended by the blatant surprise. “W-we,” Martin stammers, clears his throat, continues on much more confidently, “we go in together.”
Or: it takes close quarters and a full 24 hours to finally get them on the same page.
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T | Words: 14,946 | Chapters: 1/1
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tides turning by gauras
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
There's more than one way to say I love you.
T | Words: 20,858 | Chapters: 1/1
Other Scottish Safehouse Period fics: see unassigned supplementals by bibliocratic in Other
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Gen or Background Pairings
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a deeply annoying child by ajkal2
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, blink-and-you-miss-it Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, BUT NO SLASH WHILE ANYONE IS A CHILD
Jon is hiding under the desk.
----
There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.
G | Words: 9,631 | Chapters: 1/1
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Head in the Lion's Mouth by renwhit
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Danny Stoker & Tim Stoker, Danny Stoker & Jonathan Sims, Basira Hussain & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Danny Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Past Tim Stoker/Sasha James, Danny Stoker & Helen Richardson, Danny Stoker & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Danny Stoker & Melanie King, Basira Hussain & Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain & Danny Stoker
He fell into a deep bow, smiling the whole while. “I’m the ringmaster, of course.”
“Is that skin— Is it yours?” Old wood groaned as the Archivist shifted his weight. “Originally.”
“It is!” the ringmaster said as he swooped back upright. “Nikola decided I wore it well, so she let me keep it. Why do you ask?”
The Archivist gave him another once-over. “You just… you look familiar. Like someone I know.”
On relearning, reconnecting, and redefining.
Part 1 of Come What May
M | Words: 157,202 | Chapters: 17/17
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reach inside (to find your heart is beating) by ivelostmyspectacles
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
This is Tim, opening the door enough for his tired, careworn face to peer through the crack; Jon sees the genuine horror on his face as he takes in his boss, bloody on his doorstep, and he thinks– maybe– he thinks he might be safe here.
“Christ.”
Chapter two added January 17th!
T | Words: 5,774 | Chapters: 2/2
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Fractals Upon Fractals by cedarbranch
No Archive Warnings Apply, Michael & Helen Richardson
“There was never meant to be two of us,” said Helen.
Or: Michael and Helen play a game of chess, and work out what it means exist in duplicate.
G | Words: 1,652 | Chapters: 1/1
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Other gen fics: see Time is Hard by Serazimei in Time Travel
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Time Travel
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Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, x2!, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking.
The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him.
"I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.
--------
Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.
T | Words: 53,319 | Chapters: 12/12
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Déjà Vu by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Sasha remembers being unmade.
Tim remembers being Unknown.
Jon and Martin remember being unwound.
All of them think they're the only one.
--------
The S1 crew wakes up in the past with memories up till the moment they died.
T | Words: 37,652 | Chapters: 4/4
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Reflection by LazuliQuetzal
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James/Emma
Jonathan Sims, researcher at the Magnus Institute, is seeing a ghost. Of himself.
Of course, it’s not really him, no matter what secrets it knows, or how many arguments it brings up. So if it tells him to do something?
Obviously, he’ll be doing the exact opposite.
(AKA: Jon is an idiot, past and future, but somewhere along the way it all cancels out.)
(Expect general spoilers for S4 and specifically, MAG 158.)
T | Words: 51,527 | Chapters: 10/10
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Time is Hard by Serazimei
No Archive Warnings Apply, Michael | The Distortion & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Elias Bouchard & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Michael Shelley & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Michael "Mike" Crew & Michael Shelley
The Eye isn't happy with how the end of the world turned out. Neither are Jonah and Jon. There is no other option but to rewind time and go down a different path. But time is hard for The Spiral and The Web likes to meddle.
This is how Jon finds himself back in his eight year old body with all his memories, some of his powers intact and a strange bracelet around his right wrist. Saving the world, Jon realizes soon enough, is much harder when no one takes you seriously.
Part 1 of Diverging Times
M | Words: 170,443 | Chapters: 60/60
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The Cube Rule of Food Identification by bluejayblueskies
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin stands abruptly. His chair spins away from him, wheels squeaking on the cheap lino floor. The tension between him and Jon has reached never-before-seen levels. Tim could probably cut it with a knife. Or a particularly sharp spoon.
Then, Jon lurches forward and half-clambers atop the desk and kisses Martin, and Tim drops his sandwich.
.
Or, season one Jon and Martin receive memories from the future mid-argument, and Tim and Sasha receive emotional whiplash.
T | Words: 1,630 | Chapters: 1/1
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a map of what matters most by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Is that a body,” Tim blurts before he can stop himself, rising to his feet. Martin looks, if possible, even more scared.
“He’s alive!” he hisses, almost defensively. “It’s not - it’s not Gertrude again, I didn’t kill him, he just – I don’t know what happened to him, I just found him in the stacks like this.”
“And you dragged him up here?” Tim says, and then registers several things at once – the build, the hair texture; the little round scars peppering a pair of thin hands and an awfully familiar face. “Wait, is that Jon?”
----
Jon stumbles back into an earlier Archive, looking for a way to fix the world. (Or, mom says it's my turn for the obligatory time travel au)
T | Words: 20,604 | Chapters: 6/6
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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) by OllieoftheBeholder
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
“So...you’re from the future. In the past. Why?”
“You want the short answer or the long one?”
“Short,” Martin says after a moment’s deliberation. “Until I decide if I trust you.”
The other nods, as if he expected that answer—which, well, if he really is Martin from the future, he probably did. “To stop the world from ending.”
They have one last chance to fix this - one last chance to prevent the Eyepocalypse, to save the world - to save their world. It all hinges on which is the greater force: greed...or love.
Part 1 of leaves 'verse
T | Words: 299,536 | Chapters: 60/60
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Highly Alternate
Alternate universes will remain in the other categories, but this category is for alterations that are especially notable in their severity. This will also include any fics where Jon has an important alignment with a different fear entity, whether that be instead of the Eye or in tandem
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The Witch's Cat by Champagne
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“That’s the Witch’s cat,” Tim says, and grins at Martin. “Jonathan Sims, the town’s Witch, said that he’ll marry anyone that manages to get the key from the cat’s collar.”
G | Words: 12,584 | Chapters: 1/1
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What Belongs to the Sea by TwoDrunkenCelestials, WhyNotFly
No Archive Warnings Apply, Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“My grandmother taught me about selkies,” said the tattooed man. “Said it’s good luck for them to grace your ship. To treat ‘em right, and they’ll guide you safe.”
It had seemed like a reasonable thing to believe.
M | Words: 126,367 | Chapters: 36/36
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school's out for the summer by kiaronna
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Various Background Relationships, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
The thing is, Jonathan Sims is someone you’d call the police on if you saw him hanging around a school, those frazzled clothes and bags under his eyes, the frantic muttering and thousand-year stare.
Yet there he sits, headteacher of The Magnus Institute for Gifted Young Minds.
The name’s a bit misleading, it is. They’re in a bad part of town. The parents are either terrible or absent, and the kids—
“They’re monsters,” his new and handsome coworker grins, when Martin’s signature on his contract is barely dry. “Absolute monsters. Get too close and you’ll lose some fingers. Or maybe your mind.”
“They’re babies,” is all Martin can feebly manage, in reply, and Tim’s eyes narrow at the fondness in his voice.
“You’ll learn.”
T | Words: 26,088 | Chapters: 2/2
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See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan Sims & Simon Fairchild, Jonathan Sims & Michael "Mike" Crew, Jonathan Sims & Gerard Keay, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims/Oliver Banks
When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.
T | Words: 59,336 | Chapters: 7/7
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rituals by doomcountry
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin is the first person to knock on the Archivist's door since it arrived, fully, into its little waiting temple. The Archivist saw him coming from down the hall, but decides to feign interest when the knob turns, and Martin—still a little bit smaller, a little more translucent than before—stands uncertainly just outside the room.
T | Words: 8,492 | Chapters: 1/1
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ships passing in the night by Zykaben
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Tim meets and befriends the new professor on the staff, Jonathan Sim. Tim has also been casual friends with Martin Blackwood for the past year.
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for Tim to realize that the two of them are married to each other.
T | Words: 5,027 | Chapters: 1/1
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all the flowers of all the tomorrows by ivelostmyspectacles
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker & Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims
Martin owns a flower shop.
He starts crushing on the guy from the Magnus Institute, but why does Jon keep needing so many flowers for workplace deaths, anyway??
T | Words: 13,745 | Chapters: 1/1
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The Good Ol' Days by SingingInTheRaiin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
When Jon moves in with his grandmother he becomes fast (if somewhat reluctant) friends with one of the neighborhood kids, a boy named Martin.
Years later, they find each other again at the Magnus Institute, and whatever mysteries they uncover there, they will solve them together.
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T | Words: 107,489 | Chapters: 40/40
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How Particular, My Fondness of You by cedarbranch
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Jon risks a glance over to Georgie, expecting sympathy, or perhaps a grave expression of solidarity. Instead, he’s met with a fond smile. “Oh, Jon,” she says patiently, reaching over to rub his back. “You poor thing. You’re lovesick.”
Jon recoils. “I am not,” he says accusingly.
-
A college AU in which the whole gang works at the library, Jon is emotionally repressed, and the anonymous Facebook page knows all.
Part 2 of Magnolia Verse
T | Words: 29,263 | Chapters: 1/1
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because light reverses, because the dead return by 1248, Tiili97
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
"Very well then, officer, take me away. And Martin?"
"Yes, Elias?"
Elias opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again with a shake of his head.
"Actually, never mind. I will see how it plays out."
Martin let out an annoyed sigh as Elias left. Always so goddamn cryptic.
Hopefully Jon and the others would be back soon to make sense of things.
-
Here's a hypothetical question: What would happen if no one noticed that Jonathan Sims survived the Unknowing?
What if they looked at his stopped heart and still lungs and decided he was dead?
What happens when you bury an Archivist?
T | Words: 9,491 | Chapters: 5/5
Gerrymichael
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Echo Chamber by orphan_account
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
“Look, if you’re another, uh, avatar of a horrible eldritch demon god come to assassinate me in a spooky manner, could you get it over with quickly? I haven’t eaten all morning and I’m starving.”
The thing that calls itself Michael stares.
“And this sandwich cost most of my weekly salary,” Gerry adds after a belated moment.
Part 1 of Spirals and Eyes
T | Words: 21,439 | Chapters: 1/1
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Break Me Like A Pattern by TheLibraryBat
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay & Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay & Gertrude Robinson, Gertrude Robinson & Michael Shelley
The year is 2011. Michael Shelley is living his life in circles, blissfully unaware of the betrayal that awaits him in the summer. Gertrude Robinson has plans to enact and plans to destroy. Emma Harvey is hiding a book in the dark place at the back of a cupboard.
When Gerard Keay walks into the Magnus Institute - two years sooner than he was meant to - everything changes.
This is an (eventual) Archivist Michael AU, exploring how certain events might have played out, had one key player been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Part 1 of Archivist Michael AU
M | Words: 215,290 | Chapters: 40/40
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Choke Chain by dramatispersonae
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/The Distortion
Things Gertrude Robinson possesses: decades of experience killing, containing, and otherwise thwarting supernatural beings, an uncompromising drive to destroy the Rituals and the people who would see them completed, Gerry's loyalty. Things Gertrude Robinson apparently also possesses: a monster on a magic leash.
NR | Words: 14,814 | Chapters: 1/1
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Make Me Feel Like I'm Lost by dramatispersonae
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/MichaelGerard Keay/The Distortion
Gerry meets a door that is not a door. And a person that is not a person. Remarkably, he does not get eaten. He would probably like to keep it that way. (Or, in the process of trying to avoid death by nightmare hallway, Gerard Keay accidentally charms the nightmare hallway)
Part 1 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 11,963 | Chapters: 1/1
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Fill The Gap Between You And I by dramatispersonae
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Michael, like a cat, expresses affection with gifts of dead things. Gerry's trying not to be in the business of collecting strays.
Part 2 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 7,377 | Chapters: 1/1
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The Life Of Letting Go by dramatispersonae
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Gerry suffers a workplace injury. Michael has concerns.
Part 3 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 3,235 | Chapters: 1/1
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Fever Dreaming by dramatispersonae
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Gerry encounters a plot by a nascent avatar of the Corruption. It should be straightforward enough to deal with, especially considering his apparently ongoing... "alliance" with Michael. But when have things in his life actually been as simple as they appear?
Part 4 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 42,284 | Chapters: 5/5
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Please Don’t Eat the Flowers by Sloane
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion, Razor/Wendy, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Instead of retiring to open a book shop, Gerry ends up working at a flower shop run by American lesbians in London. This leads to a brush with the Distortion, who just wants to buy some lilies, the Magnus Institute finding out he’s still alive, and... well, a normal life was never really in the cards for the likes of Gerard Keay, was it?
Oh, and those lesbians who run the flower shop? There’s more to them than meets the eye—bad Beholding pun intended.
(No knowledge of Maniac Mansion required; I take lots of liberties to slot it into TMA’s universe. UNDER MAJOR REVISIONS. Please see last chapter if you’re a new/returning reader for details..)
M | Words: 77,314 | Chapters: 33/?
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Ode to Joy: or, michael distortion's guide to naming yourself by fromthepinnacletothepit
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Michael Shelley is sacrificed to the Spiral before he has the chance to come out, even to himself. Now, as an avatar of the Spiral, his identity is even MORE painful and confusing. Alone and filled with pain he doesn't even know how to name, he searches for acceptance in the one person who ever really knew him-Gerry Keay.
***
“What do you want to be called then,” Gerry says and wraps his arms around Michael’s back.
This conversation hurts. This question hurts. Everything hurts, so long as no one knows about his gender, so long as he has to go on being someone he’s not, someone he just can’t be anymore. He doesn’t know how much longer he can stand it.
“I dunnooooo,” he says, grinning, but inside he knows his name isn’t Michael. It’s just not. He doesn’t have a name. He never has. And it’s absence is like a hole in his chest.
The creature that might as well be called Michael, it supposes, if you have to call it anything, thinks about this conversation while it sits on the ceiling of its hallway and slowly digs grooves into the plaster with its fingers.
Gerry, it thinks desperately. I have to find Gerry.
G | Words: 14,513 | Chapters: 1/1
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Save That Heart for Me by cedarbranch
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael
Gerry has just filled up his mug with coffee when it hits him. It’s a faint but sharp pain, zinging through his left wrist. He exhales a puff of laughter. That’s the third time this week. Whoever his soulmate is, they’re having a rough time.
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T | Words: 5,577 | Chapters: 1/1
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call me your harbor by insertcleveracejoke
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael
There was the matter of the owner. It could not be said that most people, when asked about their mental picture of what the owner of a bookstore should look like, would answer angry-looking goth covered in burn scars from the neck down.
He also had a terrible dye job.
Or: five times Michael went to Gerry's domain for help, and one time the opposite happened.
Part 1 of the bookstore AU
NR | Words: 4,488 | tChapters: 1/1
Other
Fic types I have not read enough of to lend it its own category. If I read more fics of its type, it'll be moved to a new category
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unassigned supplementals by bibliocratic
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Oneshot #54: home improvement: or: Jon and Martin vs. IKEA
Oneshot #55: united front: or: Martin helps Jon with his statement hunger . (Set 159/160)
Oneshot #56: evolution: or: There is an uneasy alliance at first, between Jon and the Archivist
(Short TMA JonMartin one-shots, individual warnings in chapter notes, now with a fully-functioning contents page)
G | Words: 73,687 | Chapters: 56/56
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onto a vast plain by yewgrove
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The world ends. They get married.
Part 2 of it is what you have.
T | Words: 10,313 | Chapters: 1/1
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Out There, Somewhere by Artyphex
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
"I'm sorry, you were found alone."
Jon survived the apocalypse and now will go to the end of this new, unfamiliar world to find Martin again.
T | Words: 54,080 | Chapters: 8/8
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enemy of my enemy by beeclaws
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Jon comes back from his time with the Circus a little worse for wear. Tim has some feelings about that.
M | Words: 6,263 | Chapters: 4/4
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Updates
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a map of what matters most by gruhukens added to Time Travel - Mar. 8, 2024
leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) by OllieoftheBeholder added to Time Travel - Mar. 8, 2024
How Particular, My Fondness of You by cedarbranch added to Highly Alternate - Mar. 18, 2024
call me your harbor by insertcleveracejoke added to Gerrymichael - Mar. 18, 2024
tides turning by gauras added to Scottish Safehouse Period - Mar. 18, 2024
a six-step process by bluejayblueskies added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
who's there? by bubonickitten added to England Jonmartin-centic - Mar. 18, 2024
because light reverses, because the dead return by 1248, Tiili97 added to Highly Alternate - Mar. 18, 2024
Clothes Have No Gender by kristsune added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
northwest 6 to gale 8. rain. poor, occasionally good. by chewsdaychillin added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
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phantomyre · 6 months
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It is time... to obsessively hyper analyze Vincent. Come on. You knew it was coming.
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So first off, while there isn't a lot to glean per se, there are a few interesting design choices that I'd like to go over. One thing that I was surprised about is the complete lack of round shapes/edges. Vincent looks overall a lot more 'sharp', 'edgy', whatever you want to term it. Take his buckles for example. The round edges have been replaced by sharp edges. Artistically speaking, these design choices are meant to depict the character's personality. For example, if you have a soft character, you use soft colors, soft edges, round shapes, etc. If you want a more harsh character, you give them dark or vivid colors, lots of squares, triangles, etc. In Vincent's case, they've virtually removed all of the round/soft edges he always used to have. We will delve further into this as we scan down his body *cough*. Edit: Forgot to point out that he has double the spokes on his buckles, so instead of 4 prominent spokes, he now has 8, which is the symbol of Chaos.
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Anyways.... speaking of Chaos.
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Continuing to analyze his upper body, the most obvious are his eyes (or single eye). It's hard to tell, but judging by the few clips we've seen along with the still images, it looks as though only his left eye is glowing. Nevertheless, he does have the Chaos inner-glow. While he's always had a touch of yellow/orange in his eyes, it looked more like natural eye reflection rather than an actual glow. This is likely the change the dev team hinted at during an earlier interview. His pupils are also notably very small compared to all of the other characters with the exception of Sephiroth's cat-eye slits. Overall, they've made it a point to give Vincent predatory eye(s) this time around, leaning more heavily into the fact that he is no longer fully human. The material that makes up Vincent's cape and headband seem to be of slightly different material, and the colors are even slightly different. His headband looks to be made of a very thin cloth of fine thread. His cloak, though also seemingly thin and light, is only slightly thicker. His cloak looks to be made of either felt or very fine linen which looks to be heavily worn out (of course). Also, Vincent seems to have snake-skin on his gun-wielding arm which I've only seen the Turks and Sephiroth wear. In general, this luxury material seems to only be worn by those connected to Shinra. Thus, it is likely this is meant to coincide with Vincent's past as a Turk. But in terms of his role as Turk, I will get to that a little later.
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I think we can all agree that the weapon he is currently wielding is Quicksilver. It would make sense that he would start off with the same weapon he has in OG, though I and many others were surprised he wasn't wielding his most iconic weapon, Cerberus. While it isn't confirmed, and with the inclusion of many DoC elements, this makes me think that we could get an origins story for how Vincent obtained Cerberus in the first place. We are getting an origins story for Sephiroth's Masamune in Ever Crisis, and we already know the Bustersword's origins, so it's not out of the question. (And there are a lot of parallels to be drawn between Cloud, Sephiroth, and Vincent). Side note: I didn't write this in the graph but you can also see Vincent's left eye glowing through his bangs yet again even from such a distance. Natural white room bounce-light wouldn't have this affect on normal eyes. Rebirth Vincent seems to be sporting his OG button-top which is a design that we haven't seen since OG. It too has a little bit of snake-skin accents. A few other not so important changes are the alterations of his buckles, and the fact that it looks to be more obvious that he is wearing a two-piece set instead of a single piece jumper. Makes it much easier to remove, am I right?
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Going down to those luscious DoC hips, some belts are shifted around or missing, but then we have the thigh guard which was responsible for giving Vincent that unusually thick hip appearance. However, he is still sporting that gorgeous slutty tiny waist we all love from DoC. Thank you, Squeenix. The armor on his side is an odd choice, though more than likely it is meant to protect those birthing hips from that extra dangerous looking set of claws--- which I would like to remind is also lacking in round edges. Yet again, all of the round shapes/edges have been replaced by sharp ones. Take the knuckles for example. I will miss his AC/DoC claw. It was less of a bitch to draw. The gauntlet looks to serve not only for offense but for defense as well. It is heavily armored for impact, and as we will see going down the rest of his body, heavy protection and sharp edges continue to be a theme for his new Rebirth look.
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Once again, we can see how thin and light the material is on his cloak. It is in contrast to his very elaborate and possibly expensive gear/suit. His cloak and headband seem to be the only things that clashes with the rest of his gear in terms of quality and practicality. While there are signs of use on his armor, it pales in comparison to the possible age and wear of his cloak. As a matter of fact, it almost looks like it is about to fall apart... like it was hand-made years ago. Very different from the heavy material we see in AC and DoC. And then of course there are the sabatons/greaves. While I cannot pin-point it, his armor design seems reminiscent of the Ancients/Minerva for some reason. That aside, the heavily layered armor makes it seem like he will be doing a lot more damage with his claw and legs going forward, on top of being heavily protected. The design on his shin reminded me of an army symbol, but that's neither here nor there. ....And I'm so happy they kept his tiny ankles. In general, Vincent's Rebirth design seems to lean into a Vincent that is much more guarded, 'edgy', and ultimately a lot more reserved, albeit self-reliant. We've seen as much in his room where it doesn't appear that he has only been moping in a coffin all these years. What's more---
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--He points a gun at Cloud and threatens the group. This did not happen in OG. Vincent appears to be even more distrusting and hostile this time around. This yet again is depicted in how he is dressed in the heavy armor and ample sharp edges.
And what's with a vending machine and protorelic(?) dispenser in his mancave? Vincent boss fight, maybe? Please? Sure seems like Vincent hasn't been lacking anything... But back to Vincent being a lot more distrusting this time.
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Unless this is merely for the audience and new FF7 fans who know nothing of his character, this implies that Vincent doesn't divulge his connection to the Turks and instead calls himself "Security" guard. And not only that, it's spoken as if it's current tense. Not past tense. So yet again, if Vincent is indeed avoiding the term Turk and doesn't even tell Cloud and Co that he used to work for Shinra, this adds to the idea that his level of distrust is much higher than before. At this point, it wouldn't surprise me if joins the party much later, even after learning who Cloud's foe is. And since his connection to Sephiroth aka Lucrecia/Hojo is the mystery factor, he may not even divulge this to Cloud and Co when they first meet until much later. Either way, Vincent might actually prove to be a much tougher egg to crack this time around, along with more layers to uncover. (take that last phrase however you'd like)
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graceshouldwrite · 8 months
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How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)
POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?
For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.
It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)
...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)
...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).
Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:
1. Read + Research
Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.
History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:
Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.
48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!
The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families
Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.
The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.
Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.
Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.
Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...
A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.
2. Plan. Like, meticulously
First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.
Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.
Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.
A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.
However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.
3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue
The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).
But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.
4. Explore through a narrow lens
Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.
You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.
However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.
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instagram: @ grace_should_write
Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)
I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.
Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.
Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)
Happy writing, and have a great day!
- grace <3
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yandereworlds · 2 months
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「 INDEX + INTRODUCTION 」
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˚₊‧🔪WELCOME TO MY YANDERE BLOG! I mainly make content for my own original characters and occasionally, fandom related stuff. This blog is strictly 16+ and run by two people.
My name is Kiki (She/Her) and I am 18+. I’m the one that mainly provides the art and bots that you’ll find throughout this blog and sometimes, I write headcanons/imagines as well. My writer is Rose (She/Her, 18+) and she’s responsible for writing the fanfictions and some of the drabbles. To make it easy for you to know who's behind each post, you'll see either 'Mun Kiki', 'Mun Rose', or both credited in the tags.
We started this blog because we had numerous ideas for yandere characters. Given my background as an artist and Rose's talent as a writer, it seemed like a natural fit. I'm primarily creating this post to serve as a guide for navigating the blog. I've received numerous asks about accessing the characters' backgrounds, information, as well as questions regarding my bots, projects, commissions, socials, and other related topics. You can use this post as a reference FAQ or as a comprehensive guide to streamline your experience on the blog. 
Find that you enjoy our work? Consider leaving a tip, it’s greatly appreciated and helps the blog. Also, if you’d like to be able to be more involved with our creative process and engage with the community, you can join our Discord server here. 
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╰┈➤ ASK RULES - OPEN!
✦ Absolutely no NSFW asks. This blog is 16+ for a reason, so obviously, we will be trashing asks related to sexual topics. 
✦ We’re allowed not to answer certain asks. If you’ve been spamming the same ask and we haven’t responded to it for months, it’s most likely because we aren't comfortable doing so OR we’ve already answered an ask similar to yours.
✦ We will not be answering any asks regarding self-harm, eating disorders, extreme gore, noncon or any topics that could be associated with them. 
✦ Finally, we kindly request your patience. We understand that it may take some time to address each individual ask, as we both have busy lives and there may be periods when we don't post asks for weeks. Please refrain from rushing us, and rest assured, we will eventually get to your ask. 
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╰┈➤ YANDERE MASTERLISTS 
Original Yandere Masterlist
Fandom Yandere Masterlist
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╰┈➤ CHARACTER AI + JANITOR AI
If you've been following this account for some time, you're likely aware that I frequently share my character bots here. I've received numerous asks about which bots are available and where to find them online. While I plan to compile a list of my bots soon, for now, I'll provide links to both of my accounts for future reference.
It's worth noting that I'm currently on a temporary hiatus from Character AI due to site complications. Consequently, most of my recent bots can be found on Janitor AI, where I'm more active. Before visiting either site, please be aware that Janitor AI is intended for users aged 18 and above, whereas Character AI caters to a younger audience. In other words, minors stay off JanitorAI!
My Character AI profile - 1, 2, 3, 4
My Janitor AI profile (18+) - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Wish to request a bot from me? You can find the information here.
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╰┈➤ ART COMMISSION INFO - OPEN
Pretty self explanatory. If you're interested in commissioning artwork from me, simply click the link to access my commission page. Currently, I'm accepting payments through both PayPal and Cashapp. Below is a brief FAQ regarding my commissions. Should you have any further questions, don't hesitate to contact me!
Can you draw my OC with your characters?
✦ Yes, absolutely! Just provide me a reference and what you'd like specifically. We can discuss all the details in DM's.
Can you draw a character from 'this fandom' for me?
✦ I'm completely fine with drawing fandom related content. The only fandoms I will not draw under any circumstance is youtubers, Your Boyfriend, Country Humans, BTD and Killing Stalking. Otherwise, I'm open to whatever.
Can you draw a comic for me?
✦ Yes, but only short comics. You can let me know what you'd like the short comic to be about and all that fun stuff. Just know comics from me will likely be around $20-$40+ dollars depending how detailed and complex you'd like it to be.
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ao3cassandraic · 8 months
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Angels, demons, language, and culture part 4: Literalism and metaphor
Part 1 (angels are never children, and that matters), Part 2 (written language is mostly coded human rather than ethereal/occult in Good Omens), Part 3 (human writings contain useful social rules, which is partly why Aziraphale values them)
It may be time to restate @thundercrackfic's original questions?
How good is Aziraphale’s reading comprehension? How much does he understand subtext and metaphor? Because his behavior this season struck me with the impression that he didn’t really understand the books he collects. He’s clever at puzzle solving, and contains vast knowledge; but he always seems to take things at face value (when he’s not willfully misunderstanding), and refuses to give up black-and-white thinking, which would make it very difficult to analyze texts.
I think there are definite reasons to believe that reading comprehension of human literature (as defined in the question) is difficult for Aziraphale. One of them, as stated in part 1, is that Aziraphale doesn't get the tremendous advantage of childhood and its brain plasticity, which (among other things) is known to help with learning language. I'm not surprised his French is pretty bad. Learning another language from the ground up as an adult can be a cast-iron PITA (yes, experience speaking).
Another is simply that Aziraphale is not human. He's an outsider to humanity. He's fairly empathetic, and he does learn (unlike almost all his fellow angels!), but that leaves him without much of a yardstick to gauge when human literature is being literal and when it's not. There also seems to be a general angelic tendency to believe what they're told? Muriel definitely has it, Michael seems to as well, and even s1!Gabriel can only (and barely) muster skepticism on one occasion that I recall (the photo incident). I can see this making Aziraphale's reading, especially early in his existence on Earth, a good bit harder for him than reading is for, say, me. I'm used to unreliable narrators and figurative language and other sorts of clever fun productive lying. Aziraphale's acquaintance with lying is -- well -- his lies don't usually involve much metaphor? I suppose one could argue that "big sharp cutty thing" is a kenning, but not really in the human way of kennings because he only uses it the once.
Moreover, it appears (based on the s1e3 cold open, mostly) that he bops around the world quite a bit until finally settling in London (with the occasional jaunt elsewhere when he gets peckish). Nothing at his creation other than the auto-polyglottism She bestows on Her angels seems to give him any tools for navigating the bewildering variety of human cultures and customs... and literary metaphor (along with lots of other literary things) is commonly culturally-bound, culturally-specific.
I mean, if you read something (maybe in high school (or analogue) or college) that was written A Long Time Ago and/or Very Far Away, didn't it probably have a ton of what lit-critters call "apparatus" in it? Explanatory introductions, bibliography, and above all footnotes/endnotes/margin notes, many of which explain figures of speech that otherwise wouldn't make sense? Not to mention stuff like (just as an example) which local then-current political morass Dante threw this particular historical person in this particular circle of Hell for. Stuff that if you're not there, not embedded in the culture and the time, you're just plain gonna whiff. Hell, even Shakespeare editions have a ton of apparatus, and Shakespeare's in Early Modern English for pity's sake!
(Which is not to say that something has to be ancient or not-from-here to benefit from some apparatus. What is The Annotated Pratchett File if not apparatus for Discworld?)
So our peripatetic angel reading literature of whatever time he's actually in (which mostly won't have apparatus he can rely on for help) will often find himself not clued-in enough to a given human culture to completely understand its literary figures, metaphors included. And sure, that's going to lead to some misreadings and misunderstandings and overliteral takes! I can't read Dante's Inferno and understand everything in it! It takes Italianists years, if not decades, to do that!
And to make the problem even more difficult, literature feeds on itself, and on other arts as well. (Hi hi hello, comparative literature major, I totally studied various flows of literary and artistic influence in college and wouldn't trade that major for anything ever, it was the best major.) Think about all the time and effort GO meta-ists have spent of late teasing out callbacks and allusions and references in GO s2. That kind of work is also part of what Aziraphale has to do to understand fully what he reads... and it's a lot of work, even for a reader as voracious and possibly sleepless as our angel.
So yeah, in sum, I don't think Aziraphale has a perfect -- or even good -- track record on understanding what he reads. I adore him because he reads anyway! He never gives up on trying to understand! That's absolutely praiseworthy! (Crowley has something of an analogue to this in his love for human inventions. He doesn't understand how anything actually works, for the most part, but he loves it all the same.)
I think there's also an outstanding question about what Aziraphale gains from reading, a sense of social rules (Part 3) aside? Well, it's known that reading (especially fiction, especially fiction about characters who are Not Like The Reader) increases empathy. I don't know if Aziraphale reads specifically for that reason, but I'm absolutely willing to believe that fiction works on him that way, just as it does on us, even if he doesn't fully understand everything he reads. Did you fully understand everything you read as a child? Or even as an adult? I would never claim that of myself. Yet I certainly will claim that I picked up a lot of what I suppose I will call my character -- it runs deeper than personality -- and my general understanding of life (insofar as I have one) from reading.
If I had to answer why Aziraphale reads, though? I'd think back to my own childhood, as a bullied child with somewhat neglectful parents who held outsized expectations of me. Reading for me was peace, was escape, was enjoyment, was something to think about that wasn't my own unhappiness, was -- now and then, honestly not often enough -- seeing myself reflected in a book and feeling less alone. I hope and believe that human literature and music served similar purposes for our poor angel.
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thewertsearch · 9 days
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Ask Comp 11/06
@ben-guy asked: […] Imagine the Greek god level drama that would have unfolded with those 12 drama machines if they all went God tier. Even if they all entered the human universe without the two teams fighting over who gets to rule it, there would be no ending the divides that would form for any and all reasons, from quadrants to rulership over Kanaya's new trolls. Kinda curious about your takes on all this, even if it will take a while for you to see this :]
That's exactly it. Vriska's assuming that having a more powerful team would be strictly beneficial - which is hilarious, coming from her.
Like - Vriska. What have you done with your God Tier powers, lately?
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Did it benefit the team?
Anonymous asked: its really interesting how the first time vriska kills not out of necessity or due to any extenuating circumstances, she almost immediately regrets it
Yup.
I think it's beginning to dawn on Vriska that she has nothing to hide behind this time. She's stopped being forced to kill, and has graduated to choosing it. It's little wonder she's falling apart.
Anonymous asked: for what it's worth, i've always taken vriska's interpretation of sburb at face value. it's a setting, or a stage, moreso than a character or an organism
Sburb certainly feels like a narrative, which is closely tied to its coming-of-age themes. John isn't John in the game, he's a character called the Heir of Breath from Consort mythology, and it's predestined that he'll fulfil this narrative role - or else.
Sburb is a play. And if you mess up your lines, the stage will collapse underneath you.
@manorinthewoods asked: You know, during your original analysis of the Creation Myth reveal, you made a lot of notes about how the Denizen grist caches must have been comically large, or multiplicative, to allow the alchemisation of universes. Clearly there is no need for that, given the Genesis Frog, so… what is it for, do you think? ~LOSS (7/6/24)
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This grist is confirmed to be for the Ultimate Alchemy, which I've been assuming is synonymous with the creation of the Genesis Frog. I guess Jade's currently creating the Frog without any Denizen Grist to speak of, but I assume it'll come into play later on.
My best guess? The frog has to literally eat the Denizen Hoards to grow into a full-sized universe.
Anonymous asked: I wanted to stop by and say your liveblogs are super interesting!! Back when I first read homestuck I didn’t really bother with analysis, just kinda screamed inchoherentoy at my friends, so actually seeing the narrative and char arcs broken down like this into understandable chunks of why might it be written this way, what is the char thinking, why are they thinking that, how does that play into what might happen - it’s super cool thank you for all this !! Anonymous asked: finally catched up with your liveblog, i have been a homestuck for like a semester and i am rlly happy to see someone go this in depth on a liveblog about it! Anyways! Whats the character you relate the most to, so far? - bralsra
Thank you very much!
It's funny. I've talked before about how I was never great at writing analytical essays in English class - but I'm essentially doing the same thing here, and I'm having a great time. I guess it's just more fun when it's a science fantasy webcomic and not, like, Nineteen Eighty-Four.
Who do I relate to the most, I wonder? To be honest, it's probably Kanaya, which probably isn't too surprising if you're a regular reader.
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I've said things that are 90% similar to the shit she comes out with. She's so great.
@manorinthewoods asked: I'd like to hear your thoughts on each individual blood caste[…]. ~LOSS (7/6/24)
It's hard to generalize the blood castes, since we've only seen one example of each blood color thus far. Broadly speaking, we're aware that:
Lower bloods have more psychic power.
Higher bloods have more psychic resistance.
Highbloods appear to be physically stronger.
Kanaya's blood color is extremely rare, which implies that, contrary to my expectations, higher blood isn't always rarer than lower blood.
Beyond that, I can't say much more. Based on Karkat's position in the Trollian friend list, he was probably 'supposed' to have green blood, but I don't know if mutating out of the spectrum has actually changed his biology in any way.
He's not psychic, so we can at least assume he doesn't 'count' as being on the bottom of the hemospectrum.
@john-egbert-rose-lalonde asked: the searcherrrrrrrr
"why so discarded" - the drawer
Anonymous asked: Hey, since you like to experiment with stuff, what dl you think would happen if a Tier 2 Sprite prototyped itself into a Tier 1 Sprite?
Great question. I went in-depth into it during a previous ask - although I can imagine it's quite a rare occurrence. How often are two unprototyped Sprites on the same Land?
Anonymous asked: While I think a discord server is a good idea, I think it might be best for everyone if it's one where only you and those helping you with the blog can post anything. That might ruin the community aspect a little, but I feel like it'd be worth it to not get spoiled if you do ever make one. Feel free to completely ignore this- not exactly riveting things I'm sending here.
Right! Quick update on the Discord situation.
Initially, I was going to have Cat help me set it up, but she's been incredibly busy with her thesis lately. Plus, she hasn't really used the platform either, so we had no idea what we were doing. Might need to shelve the Discord server idea until later, or until it becomes necessary.
@krixwell asked: John Egbert when he's told the Earth is done for: John Egbert when his friend is his sister and his dad is his half-brother: John Egbert when he dies ignoble deaths at the hands of manipulators: John Egbert when Fruit Gushers are a Betty Crocker product: MENTAL BREAKDOWN
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Dude's got his priorities straight.
@mhafanlol2000 asked: I’m taking an IT course next year, and I want a head start during this summer. Would you know any free beginner’s courses to any languages that would help in that department?
I'll always champion W3Schools as a great first port of call for tech self-learning. All the resources I've found there are well-put together, and let you test your code out in-browser.
As I mentioned to a previous asker, I'd recommend starting with the C language if you're genuinely interested in programming. It's a little harder to use than other, more high-level languages, but it'll teach you more about programming than they will. I'd liken it to learning to drive in manual, rather than automatic. You lose nothing, and acquire skills you wouldn't otherwise know about.
@caliquill submitted:
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i'd like to briefly point out this tidbit of the first conversation eridan has with kanaya @krixwell asked: Gamzee to Equius, page 2221: "iF i CoUlD mAkE yOu SmIlE iT'd Be ThE bEsT fUcKiN mIrAcLe I eVeR dId PaRt Of." @dopplesgryndthloggle asked: I'm just gonna put this here: pg 2221 TC: WhAt CaN i Do To MaKe A bRoThEr FuCkIn ShApE hIs ShIt Up? TC: iF i CoUlD mAkE yOu SmIlE iT'd Be ThE bEsT fUcKiN mIrAcLe I eVeR dId PaRt Of. TC: hOnK hOnK hOnK! :o)
...this comic is going to go absolutely wild on a reread, isn't it?
Anonymous asked: oh god no, the clown got you :(
Thanks for the migraine, Gamzee!!
@5am-nztime asked: Insert the one millionth "The Heir of Void, Devoid of Air" joke you've probably gotten. I love dramatic irony
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You're actually the only person who sent this one in - and I'm glad you did. It's kind of killing me.
Anonymous asked: a common interpretation is that equius smiles because he knows nepeta might find his body and he doesn't want her to think he died in pain :((
Shit, that's kind of devastating. That said, he had no reason to think Gamzee would leave his body where it was - but that said, he clearly wasn't thinking straight at the time.
Anonymous asked: fun little detail: the ==> leading to equius taking an arrow to the knee is replaced with an arrow, -->
He used to be a Sgrub Player like us :(
Anonymous asked: The idea that he somehow has the freakin' WARHAMMER OF ZILLYHOO in his jokerkind specibus but he STILL only brings out a low-tier pair of juggling clubs is somehow even more intimidating
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Where did he even get the thing? When did he get it? Is this from before or after the Pen-Pal got their hands on it?
...if Gamzee is the Pen-Pal, I'm quitting the comic.
@morganwick asked: Well, as long as you don't know for sure whether Nepeta died, you could say… she's both alive and dead until she's observed? @ipunchvampires asked: By cutting away from Nepeta's fate, it's technically ambiguous right now whether she's alive or dead, since we cannot observe her. So you could say that she… heh heh, that she's Sch… she's Schröding…
....oh, god damn it.
Anonymous asked: I feel like there should be an intermission style counter. 4/12 Alien Children Murdered.
If you include Aradia and Vriska, the tally's up to seven. Murderstuck started a long time ago, it seems.
Anonymous asked: i would like to think equius says b100 like how boris johnson says blue in that one interview where he mentions the us brand new BLUE passports or whatever
I also think his voice suits Equius's character fairly well...
Anonymous asked: To be fair on the “overwhelmingly violent purplebloods” angle, Gamzee was stoned out of his mind basically 24/7 until they got to the meteor, so they probably would’ve thought it was a nonissue. […]
I suppose. But if everyone knows purplebloods are habitual murderers, I don't know why you'd ever let one into your friend group. There's always a possibility that one day, his slime delivery will be late, and he'll snap your neck for fun.
@wickedsick asked: You know, this would be the perfect spot for a paradox space intermission. You can read the fluffy comics to wash the taste of blood out of your mouth!
I thought about it - but in the end, I decided to liveblog the Paradox Space comics at the point in the comic where they were released.
Otherwise, Cat'd have to spoiler-check each comic with a fine-toothed comb, and I'd have to delay many of them anyway. Better to get them all out at once.
Anonymous asked: considering that eridan was on feeding duty for gl'bgolyb and had to kill lusii year round under apocaliptic threat im not surprised his response under pressure is to kill something
It really says a lot about the difference between him and Vriska, doesn't it? Vriska's reaction to killing Tavros was a full on existential crisis, but Eridan's first reaction to killing Feferi was to immediately kill again.
@witchoflight asked: hey sally i just wanna remind you of the conversation that dave and gamzee have, specifically about the line: "TC: My mInD'S NoT ThAt sHaRp nOw tHoUgH, iT'S BeEn aGeS SiNcE I HaD A GoOd pIe" gamzee hasn't had access to sopor for WEEKS, not since they entered the game. […]
Was he sober, though? He's still acting stoned, and using his original quirk, so if he did sober up, he must have immediately decided to pretend he didn't, and then arbitrarily reveal himself as sober later on.
To me, it feels like it just took a while for the slime's effects to fully fade. It might genuinely have taken a month for it all to leave his system.
@mimescantscream asked: Now that Gamzee has swiftly become the most important character, any thoughts on his transformation?
It's weirdly drastic, isn't it?
Like, if he was hiding this personality under sedatives this entire time, surely we should have seen some hint of it, in all the time we've known him. We've even been in his head, and he seemed like exactly who he appeared to be.
Was Gamzee unaware of this latent personality? Do we have a Jekyll and Hyde situation on our hands? He does say he's 'both' of his messiahs...
@elkian asked: You've now reached the point where I can (probably) say that the common fandom Exile match for Kanaya is Problem Sleuth, as he has the Vampire schema mode. (Plus a jade-green ultimate attack.)
Oh, I love that for her. We better be seeing Team Sleuth in some form before the end, even if it's just a cameo.
@krixwell asked: I think you're blaming the wrong chat program. Trollian is an advanced alien chat program powered by futuristic sci-fan shenanigans, with features specifically designed to allow the user to choose the timeframe at which they try to contact someone. Pesterchum, not so much. Pesterchum if anything is retro, with only the most barebones of 1-on-1 chat features, a status setting that barely changes anything unless you're rancorous, and a block feature that seemingly fails to recognize incoming Trollian connections from the same user at different times (possibly Trollian's fault). Even setting aside the frogskin barrier, it's a wonder the two programs can communicate at all. So when someone uses Pesterchum to contact a Trollian user whose timeline is entirely separate from their own, with no interface to pick a timeframe on, how exactly is either program supposed to know when to contact them?
I guess most of our nonlinear conversations have been Trollian-to-Pesterchum.
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Karkat has tied himself into knots over memos, but that is admittedly a slightly different use case.
And can I just say, I love the concept of a 'frogskin barrier'. These two parties have been beaming messages from frog-to-frog this entire time, and the walls between their dimensions are literally made of skin.
@captorations asked: consider: this means that the sbahj joke that following kanaya's death was actually foreshadowing given the comic it's from
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I can't fucking believe this.
Anonymous asked: tbh i'll never get over how the presumable FIRST THING kanaya did upon coming back to life was just. to wade through the horn pile to drink blood from a corpse.
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Vriska's getting a little competition for Troll Of All Time!
@morganwick asked: I mean, technically Jade was already in the Fruity Rumpus Asshole Factory, it was just with two Karkats and Dave only made a brief appearance.
16-player fruity rumpus argument or we riot
Anonymous asked: do you think you'll liveblog tsg if you read it?
I wasn't planning on it, but if there's a lot of demand, I'll definitely think about it. If I was to liveblog any fanfic, it'd probably be that one, since it's a proper 'event fanfiction' from the author of TLT.
Anonymous asked: re: the ultimate riddle: karkat actually already explained it on page 1903. basically its just some more timeloop/alpha timeline predestination stuff
The sense I got was that there was a section of the conversation that we missed.
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On Skaia, John begins a conversation with an early version of Karkat about the Ultimate Riddle, but the camera moves away before they really get into it. Then, on the Veil, an early Karkat shows up to continue a point he was making about the Riddle, implying that there's a section of this conversation that was deliberately obfuscated.
I initially thought that the Riddle was the mystery of Sburb itself - ie, what the point of the game is. I still think that's probably pretty close, but I do wish we got this full conversation, just in case.
Anonymous asked: “Scratch positioned [Vriska] as someone who will perpetuate a monumental, large-scale mistake, and I don't think there's anything she could do on the Veil that fits the bill.” When John was about to prototype jades sprite with a broken doll, Vriska made him fall asleep, and Becquerel jumped in the sprite instead, leading to Jack Noir becoming an unbeatable boss and destroying the trolls session. I think that could be the perpetuation of a large scale mistake.
Possibly. But as violent as Jack is, I don't think he's a huge threat to the rest of the multiverse.
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He takes hours to rampage through a session, but there are presumably trillions of sessions out there in the multiverse. From a top-level perspective, he's not doing meaningful damage, and it's certainly within Vriska's comprehension.
I actually think Vriska's going to do something much worse than make Jack. If she contributes to the creation of Lord English, for example, she might be breaking something that can't be repaired.
Anonymous asked: Honestly its a little sad though right? That the troll kids are snapping and dying? Like yeah they were raised on a violent murder planet but also, they're all still 13 years old and have been without their means of Sleeping Naturally for a while (the sopor slime is how trolls usually get sleep) not being an apologist or anything but the murders could've been prevented with healthy moraillegences and good nights sleep.
Oh, it's horrific, that should go without saying. If the trolls had got some decent shuteye, it'd have kept them stable for at least slightly longer.
69 notes · View notes
justcallmecj · 23 days
Text
Seeing Your Dragon Form: First Years
(I feel like this chapter of the series may be crappier than the previous ones. I'm slowly running out of ideas and have used up quite a bit of my writing energy recently. I've come to realize that writing for the First Year Squad is just harder for me because I'm used to the pure crackhead energy the fandom gives them, but I'm still going strong! Oh well, I really want to write, so here I am!)
^Original note from Quotev that I put prior to the chapter. As a sort of mini explanation for my mindset going into this one.
Ace
Ace wanted to look unimpressed and chill, but he was currently losing it, and you could tell.
When you finally settled down, he approached you with his hands behind his head, really trying to hit home the idea he wasn't fanboying over you right now.
You brought your head down to allow him to get a closer look as well as touch your horns and snout.
He was a lot gentler than you thought he'd be.
He carefully ran his hand up and down your snout, making you hum in the process.
He tried talking to you, getting frustrated when you'd only hum and growl, before those two working brain cells in his head worked and he figured out that you couldn't actually talk.
He doesn't know, for some reason, a part of his brain just assumed you'd be able to talk.
Despite the current situation, Ace's behavior didn't change. He still tried to tease you, coming up basically unsuccessful because that's just how it is between the two of you, didn't stop him though.
Once, when you weren't paying attention, he tried to climb onto your back, not expecting the reaction that you'd have.
When you realized, you rolled over, trapping him under you. Due to the size difference, he was completely stuck, despite how much effort he put into trying to push you off him. You made sure not to hurt him though, and you didn't.
He could practically hear you laughing, even if it just came out as draconic grumbles.
sigh "You really never change, huh? You big bully! Though honestly, what can I say? I'm the same way, and I wouldn't want you any other way."
Deuce
Deuce was certainly nervous.
No fear. His brazen, delinquent years prepared him to take on any challenge that may be thrown at him, but this was definitely different.
He was stunned for a decent while after you transformed. Just kinda standing there, frozen in place.
Pretty sure his brain fried for a moment.
When he finally came back to his sense, he tried to play it all off with compliments, but really, there was no tricking you, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt and ignored it.
He was the most interesting by your wings.
(If I remember correctly)One of the reasons he likes being on the Track Team/Magical Wheel(?Can't remember which), is feeling the wind rush past him when he picks up speed. Because of this, he really admired your wings, which could do the same thing but ten fold.
He really wanted to ask you to take him on a flight with you, but was too shy to ask out loud. Maybe one day he'll have the confidence.
He made sure to be extra careful around parts like your horns, tail and other parts that may be considered sensitive/vulnerable. He didn't want to risk being even a little to rough and hurting you. He'd never forgive himself if he hurt you. (He doesn't realize how tough dragon skin and scales are, just give him a while).
All in all, it was a pleasant experience for the both of you. He had fun getting to see a new side of you, and you got to have a breather in your dragon form with no worries about who's around you.
"This is truly amazing. I can't believe you're capable of something like this. You really make NRC much more fun than it would be if you weren't here."
Jack
His reaction was much different from the others.
You and him are pretty similar in more ways than some may think.
Both of you are non-human beings capable of turning into a natural animal form. Him a wolf, you a dragon.
He was calm, but astounded. He didn't think you'd be quite so big.
He gets bigger than a normal wolf when he uses his Unique Magic, but he always assumed that was because he's a bigger person himself. Maybe it's just natural for anyone capable of this ability.
He was cautious to approach, not fully aware of how conscious you are, taking his own wolf state into account.
You just sat down, tail resting on the forest floor, wings at rest, showing just how comfortable you were in the situation. That convinced him that nothing had changed except how you looked.
He sat next to you, showing the same peaceful signs. Tail resting and ears calm.
You came closer, laying your head down next to his side. He reached out a hand and gently stroked the top of your head.
You two just stayed there like that for a while. Peacefully enjoying each others calm presence, until he stopped petting you.
You had gotten so used to the feeling and were so close to falling asleep, him stopping upset you.
In retaliation, you picked up your head and placed it down in his lap. He panicked for a moment before freezing, not knowing quite what to do.
He soon recognized the affectionate action. It was one his younger sister and brother would do when they wanted affection without actually saying they wanted affection. A silent plea.
He placed his hand back on your head, petting you like he was not even a minute ago. Sometimes he'd move his hand and scratch behind your ear, which caused you to hum and delight.
"We really are more alike than I thought. Are you sure you're not just a dog in disguise?" You grumbled at the playful tease, making him laugh.
Epel
Epel actually reacted much differently than you expected.
The moment he saw your dragon form, he wasted no time in rushing over and didn't even attempt to hide his complete adoration.
He jump up and down, bouncing on the heel of his feet. He rushed around, taking in every detail about you that he could.
His attention to speech completely leaves his mind and his natural accent slips in until he's speaking with such a think accent it's sometimes hard to understand what he's saying.
This may very well be the most excited you've seen Epel act, other than when he's getting competitive.
When he was finally able to wrap his head around everything and calm down, his demeanor changed on the dime, much like his personality can.
He softly took hold of your snout and held if close to his chest with his arms holding onto the underside of your head, something he likes to do even when you're in your normal form. For him, it's a show of trust, one he knew you'd understand.
A soft hum found its way out of your throat. He giggled at the affection.
You both took a rest and talked. It may have been a one-sided conversation, but he didn't mind.
He rambled on and on to fill the silence, accompanied with the occasional scratch under the chin.
There was a moment where he got jealous about how much bigger you were than him normally, let alone now. But, he soon got over it after thinking about how it must have just been natural since you weren't human.
"As much as I think it's unfair you can do all these cool things about how you look while I'm stuck like this, I'm still really happy that you opened up to me. I know what it's like to not be content with how you look, but we can do our own thing together!"
Sebek
Now, normally, Sebek is really respectful towards you. A byproduct from how he treats Malleus and how similar the two of you are.
Throughout the school year, it's taken some work, but you've gotten him to truly see you as a friend, not just another fae.
But, things did change a little bit after seeing your dragon form.
He's never seen Malleus's, because Malleus sees no use in taking his dragon form most of the time, so he didn't quite know what he was expecting to see from you.
When he watched a massive, spike covered, ice coated dragon walked out of the mist that practically came out of now where, he was honestly a little scared.
He remembered a story Lilia had told him and Silver once. It was about how once, when Malleus was young, he changed forms after throwing a temper-tantrum. After that, Sebek just started associating the idea with anger.
But, his time as a guard(and your friend) allowed him to be more observant than some. He saw every cue that would tell your current mood. There was no anger, only a calm curiosity. A curiosity towards him.
The idea of you watching him with the intention to see how he'd react embarrassed him. He turned his head to hide the reddening of his cheeks, but he didn't realize the red had crept up his ears and right into your watchful gaze.
You made a sound, one he didn't recognize, but it sounded faintly like laughter.
You were laughing at him!!!
He stomped a foot and grumbled under his breath, only causing you make more of the laughing sounds.
After that whole fiasco, Sebek finally felt comfortable enough to let down his guard.
His sharp hearing allowed him to quickly pick up on the different meanings of certain sounds, enough to have a semi-coherent conversation. He made sure to keep his voice quieter than usual, only being able to guess how sensitive your hearing may be right now.
Eventually, the interaction between the two of you fell into a comfortable and familiar conversation, like nothing was different about this scenario than usual.
"I really should be finding Waka-sama right now, but as Silver has told me, I may need to lighten up. So, we'll stay here for a while longer." His voice got just a bit quieter, "Thank you for showing me this."
And then the original note I put on Quotev after the chapter-
(Well, I think this set actually came out a lot better than I initially though it would. These five weren't as hard to write for as they usually are once I actually started soooo- YAY!!)
You can see the mindset change, wow.
72 notes · View notes
yanban-san · 9 months
Text
SCPMas - AU-Tober #2
I wrote the two as SCPs for the second day. I tried to keep it like a typical SCP document, so it was very interesting to try and keep it in the style of SCP writing! I hope y'all like. :3
(Tags: Submas, Slight, implied X-reader) Item #: SCP-9018
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures:
Instances of SCP-9018-W and SCP-9018-B spotted are to be reported to the supervising officials immediately. Containment procedures are in place at locations of previous manifestations of SCP-9018, and any and all locations noted on "station" maps are to be secured following encounters with SCP-9018.
Chainlink fences are established around the perimeters of all locations where SCP-9018 have manifested. Due to the potential for re-appearances, all buildings and areas surrounding previous instances are to be monitored closely and inspected once a month by Foundation personnel for signs of re-establishment. Security cameras and EMF detectors are also to be placed strategically across designated areas and monitored for anomalous activity.
SCP-9018-B and SCP-9018-W are to be contained in the abandoned Northern branch of the [REDACTED] platform of the New York Subway System. Containment procedures are to be carried out by Foundation Personnel with Psionic Training Level III at minimum. Refer to Incident reports 9018-A-19900317 and 9018-A-19960401 for further information. Electrified fences lining the perimeter of the containment area are primarily for the prevention of explorers from reaching the containment area.
In the event of a containment breach, all personnel are to communicate purely through electronic means. Any personnel attempting to communicate through physical talking and actions are to be treated as SCP-9018-B and SCP-9018-W causing psychic distortions to prevent themselves from being perceived. The full limits of SCP-9018-B and SCP-9018-W's psionic manipulative abilities are yet to be studied following the previous containment breach.
Description:
SCP-9018 is an anomalous Subway Station that manifests within abandoned structures and and buildings and potentially other locations. [Refer to Interview Log 9018-Int-002] On the surface, it functions almost identically to a regular subway station. During the day, the station is devoid of any life forms outside of instances designated as 9018-A, who resemble and act as regular human employees of the station. [Refer to Interview Log 9018-Int-001] Upon approaching the ticket counter, an individual will be presented with a schedule of stations to go to. Should a ticket be purchased, the individual becomes an instance now designated as 9018-P, for passenger. At this point, the individual is compelled by unknown reasons to wait for their train and board it. Beyond that, 9018-P holds all of their original cognitive functions, but any attempts to get them to leave the station with the ticket will result in them attempting to rationalize a reason why they cannot. No tickets have been recovered to date.
Within 4-12 minutes after purchasing a ticket, a train will appear to take 9018-P to their chosen destination. These locations occasionally match to actual, existent railway stations and stops across the world- However, other stations with no known match have been documented appearing. [Refer to Experiment Log 9018-Ex-101] Upon arrival at an actual station, 9018-P will appear stepping out of a regular arriving train or on the train they departed on, depending on the liveliness and schedule of current trains at the station. If the station is a non-existent, communication is typically lost with 9018-P for the duration of their trip. [Refer to Experiment Log 9018-Ex-101]
At night, SCP-9018 suddenly springs to "life", with trains arriving and dropping off hundreds of instances of 9018-P-D, which were originally thought to be other human passengers disembarking at a random station- However, Experiment Log-9018-Ex-101 reveals that the individuals disembarking typically resemble both recent and long deceased persons within the local area. At this point, two individuals identified as 9018-B and 9018-W emerge from any trains within the vicinity, and attempt to leave the station. Instances of 9018-A have been observed chatting with and engaging in friendly actions towards instances of 9018-P-D- At this point, any human individuals within the station are encouraged to engage and talk with 9018-P-D and 9018-A, typically by 9018-A.
SCP-9018-B and SCP-9018-W appear to be two train conductors, and in particular, two twins, who control the entirety of SCP-9018. [Refer to Interview Log 9018-Int-001]. They have the ability to set train schedules and determine where SCP-9018 will manifest next. Instances of 9018-A obey their orders, as well as instances of 9018-P, which they are amicable towards.
9018-B and 9018-W at this point attempt to leave SCP-9018 entirely and enter any local population center. Their actions in cities and towns have not been observed, but they have been observed returning to SCP-9018 with humans. However, these humans are later observed walking around their town with no recollection of any supposed interaction with 9018-B and 9018-W. Typically within one to two weeks of this interaction, however, the individual dies by any multitude of means. After this, these individuals can be seen among the litany of 9018-P-D instances.
Addendum:
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[Interview Log 9018-Int-001] Interviewed: SCP-9018-W. Interviewer: Junior Researcher █████. Foreword: SCP-9018-B and 9018-W were seen leaving an instance of SCP-9018 and were apprehended by Foundation Security Personnel. This begins the first interview with a junior researcher who happened to be present during an observation of SCP-9018. [Begin Log] Interviewer: Hello, is this uh- On? SCP-9018-W: Hello. Who are you? My brother and I must get back to work. Interviewer: Please identify yourself. SCP-9018-W: Mm. I don't think I want to. Interviewer: So… Uh, well, we can hold you here indefinitely if we choose to, so I would- I would suggest you do that. SCP-9018-W: Oh dear. That is verrry not nice. Interviewer: I would appreciate if you would answer my question. Now, who are you? SCP-9018-W: I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. I run the Subway with my Brother, yup! It is verrry fun. But you won't call me Emmet, will you? Those people like to give us silly names. Interviewer: You will probably receive a classification of some kind. Thank you for introducing yourself, Emmet. I am █████. Can I ask where this train station came from? SCP-9018-W: It comes and goes as needed. Like the trains. We take our passengers where they are needed, or wanted, and then they disembark. Interviewer: Where do they go once they disembark? SCP-9018-W: They stay in the station. They don't like to go far. That's another one of our jobs! Interviewer: What do you mean? SCP-9018-W: Hmmhmm. We help them sometimes. That is all I will say. Interviewer: …Alright, I'll leave that there… SCP-9018-W: Would you like to ride our train? Interviewer: Excuse me? SCP-9018-W: Yup! You seem like you could use a ride, yup. Our trains are verrrry nice. Interviewer: Uh- No, thank you- Er- What did you say your title was again? You're a… "Subway Boss?" SCP-9018-W: That is correct. And you won't ride? That makes me sad. Interviewer: Er- No, Sorry- But what does that mean? Are you employed at the Subway? Er- What duties do you carry out, exactly? SCP-9018-W: Mm. No. I won't tell you that. Brother and I keep it secret. If you want to know, you should ride our Subway! Interviewer: …No, thank you. [End Log.] Closing Statement: [Despite Researcher █████'s inexperience, they handled the interview well. However, SCP-9018-W refused to talk anymore on the subject, instead insisting on offering researcher █████ free tickets if they rode on SCP-9018's trains.]
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Interviewed: SCP-9018-B. Interviewer: Junior Researcher █████. Foreword: SCP-9018-B and 9018-W were seen leaving an instance of SCP-9018 and were apprehended by Foundation Security Personnel. This begins the second interview with a junior researcher who happened to be present during an observation of SCP-9018. Interviewer: Alright, let's begin with your- SCP-9018-B: Who are you? Why did those men attack me and my brother? Where is he? I won't speak with you until I've seen him! Interviewer: I can't let you see your brother right now, but he is safe. I uh- I've spoken to him myself. SCP-9018-B: And how can I trust you? You… Interviewer: You'll have to trust me. If you answer my questions, we should be able to reunite you both. SCP-9018-B: Very well. I am Ingo. I am a Subway Boss, alongside my brother. We run the trains you've been- Or, well, those men have been spying on. Your group refuses to let us alone, you know? We're not doing anything wrong. Interviewer: I- I can understand that, but- Well, we don't know exactly what you're doing anyway. How does your train system even work? SCP-9018-B: Simple; trains go places. People wish to go places. We take people where they wish to go- And make a few stops along the way. If you like, you may ride our trains too- In spite of the abhorrent way your… company have treated us. Interviewer: Again, I'm sorry about that- SCP-9018-B: Would you like to ride our train? I'm quite sure you would find it lovely. Interviewer: I'm quite alright, thank you- I'm more curious about your train, and the work you and your brother do. Where did you guys find your employees? SCP-9018-B: Our train is a train. I'm not quite sure how to explain it anymore than that. And… The work we do… Well, we keep the trains running on schedule, and going wherever people might want them to go. Our employees… I'm not sure why you would be interested in them. They, like us, work for the railway company. Interviewer: The Railway company? SCP-9018-B: Yes! They employ us. I'm certain the Company would not be happy if our schedule was delayed; Ergo, you should let me and my brother go. Interviewer: We'll get back to that. For now, can you tell me… Where do your passengers come from? SCP-9018-B: You should ride our train. The passengers we carry… They do love to tell their stories, and I'm certain you would find more answers talking to them than with us. Interviewer: [laugh.] I doubt they'd have anything to say to me. SCP-9018-B: You would be surprised. [End Log.] Closing Statement: [Recording Equipment shut off at this point, and researcher █████ requested the pair be released after concluding the interview. █████ was sent for a full medical and psychological examination following the events of whatever interview took place with SCP-9018-B. Researcher █████ was later provided with class-b amnesiacs per request.]
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Experiment Log 9018-Ex-101
D-Class Personnel Serial Number 247187, Name █████ █████- Subject 9018-001. Sent into SCP-9018 to ascertain anomalous properties of SCP-9018. Subject 9018-001 is guided by Dr. Martin. [Note of Interest: Subject 9018-001's criminal record was subject to particular scrutiny. Subject 9018-001 refused association or responsibility for all criminal activity that resulted in their subsequent life sentencing. Subject 9018-001 was particularly interested in redeeming themselves and removing their resultant record.] Subject 9018-001 enters SCP-9018. Subject 9018-001 remarks on the "cleanliness" of the station and how they did not expect to see such a station down here. Subject 9018-001 is instructed to purchase a ticket from the ticket booth. Subject 9018-001 does so. Subject 9018-001 engages in conversation with an instance of SCP-9018-A. SCP-9018-A appears to be aware of Subject 9018-001's criminal record. SCP-9018-A expresses pity and offers Subject 9018-001 a "special ticket" and rate. Despite orders not to, Subject 9018-001 agrees after viewing SCP-9018-A's map (not available from recorded footage) Upon purchase of the ticket, Dr. Martin insisted that Subject 9018-001 exit SCP-9018 immediately. Subject 9018-001 at this point became an instance of SCP-9018-P, and refused. Subject 9018-001 proceeds to wait for their train to arrive. Ticket information is displayed to their personal camera. [Boarding Station: [REDACTED] Destination: [REDACTED]] After approximately eight minutes and thirty-two seconds, a train rolls into station. Subject 9018-001 asks if they have permission to board, and begins walking towards the train before receiving Dr. Martin's Approval.
SCP-9018-W greets 9018-001 at the door of the train. SCP-9018-W expresses interest in Subject 9018-001's physical appearance. SCP-9018-W is joined by SCP-9018-B. 9018-B also remarks on the acceptability of their appearance. Both instances take hold of Subject 9018-001's ticket and begin conversing with Subject 9018-001 on the subject of their criminal record and subsequent service to the SCP Foundation. Subject 9018-001 sits down in a passenger cabin and SCP-9018-B leaves the cart, presumably to drive the train. SCP-9018-W continues conversing with Subject 9018-001. SCP-9018-W reveals [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] to Subject 9018-001, causing the subject to enter a slight panic. SCP-9018-W offers Subject 9018-001 a position working for their "Railway Company." Subject 9018-001 is heard accepting after several seconds of silence. Dr. Martin is unable to communicate with Subject 9018-001 at this point. SCP-9018-W addresses Dr. Martin from Subject 9018-001's personal camera and microphone. SCP-9018-W informs Dr. Martin that they will be "keeping" Subject 9018-001 for the "foreseeable future." At this point, communication with Subject 9018-001 ceases. Subject 9018-001 has not been recovered to date, nor seen among the passengers of SCP-9018. [End Log.]
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slushiepizza · 2 months
Text
Prêt à Manger
this fanfiction has suggestive themes. but not actual depictions of sexual interaction. still, i'd prefer it if minors don't interact.
Pairing : Doc/Hush
Tags : Meat Themes, Food as a form of love, hunger as a form of love, knifeplay (for the sake of teasing and not to the point of wounding), graphic depictions of eating, getting together, kissing, vaguely horny, unhinged doc, depictions of corpses
Word Count : 3,192
ao3
Notes : Thank you so much to @joshusten for accompanying me through writing this whole thing. This wouldn't have been finished without their help! This is a challenge for myself to describe the intersection of the feeling of being hungry for food, and being hungry for love and companionship/desiring over someone. Also to describe love interests appetizingly, while describing food titillatingly. I think Hush and Doc's dynamic is perfect for those themes- considering he isn't human and thus is unfamiliar with those sensations, and also that he canonically DID learn how to cook for Doc's sake.
To Hush, hunger used to be a foreign concept.
But ever since he took on his humanoid form- the fleshy disguise that was a mockery of what he was capable of- there’s a simmering under his skin, crawling and clawing for something. There’s a sort of hollowness that couldn’t be filled.
Hush manifested in an underground tunnel full of humans. There were signs above him with words like ‘to Union Station’, ‘Santa Monica’ and ‘Mind the gap’. He followed the crowd to a stationary vehicle, ethereal and glowing with artificial light. As soon as he stepped onto the platform, the metal doors closed. Inside, it was cramped and narrow.
Someone’s elbow was digging into his side and someone pressed against his back. He found the fact interesting, as he discovered that most humans liked their personal space. But not here. Not inside the tunnel that currently moved in speeds that reminded him of Aria, the windows that lead to outside blurred what remained of the scenery into long lines of color. 
Between the sea of people, Hush took in the surroundings as best he could with people breathing down his neck. A man was sitting on the far end of the cargo. He took out a bowl with a transparent lid. He opened it, revealing the insides of rice, meat, and vegetables. He spooned the food into his mouth and chewed with vigor. Beside him, a woman is holding a cup with a dark liquid, steam wafting off of it. She took a sip and winced. The next time she approached the drink, she slowly blew on it, disturbing the vapor. She let out a sigh as she swallowed. In the forgotten corner near the window- a couple was kissing and sucking on each other’s lips. One of them slid their hand down the other’s thigh. The action produced wet, smacking noises and the humans around them looked revolted, turning their backs away. 
He sensed that they all felt a similar sort of feeling, a concoction of desire, relief, hunger, craving mixed into one. Hush didn’t find other humans interesting, but he noted that there was something to be made of the fact that there’s an animal-like primalness to the act of eating something. To him, Arcana is just a source of power floating in the vastness of Aria. He didn’t need to chew or swallow- it’s just absorbed into his form, imbuing him with energy. Hush recounted that Doc also took pleasure in the act, losing themselves in the morsel. 
Doc pulled a chair and joined Hush at the kitchen table. “Oh, man. I’m starving,” they sighed as they took a burger out from its paper bag, the colorful logo of its origins crumpled beyond recognition. “Still not into food? Eating in general? We can share it if you want,” they gestured the bun towards his direction across the table.
“No, thank you. Arcana is more than enough sustenance.”
Although he still relied on Arcana as a source of energy, his body never seemed to be rid of the feeling of lacking something. It’s a phantom sort of sensation- like it knew how it’s supposed to act when unfed, but couldn’t seem to find the right functions to do it.
“Suit yourself, then.” They took a bite and hummed in pleasure. Their white, ivory colored teeth sank into the bread and patty. It was pliant under their grasp, their fingers marking it with dents. A crunch from the lettuce. “Wow. That really hit the spot.”
Doc wiped off their mouth with the back of their hand, yet their lips were still shiny, slick with oil, the meal marking an evidence of their appetite just. Hush watched unblinkingly as they chewed, barely swallowing before inhaling and going in for another bite. He noted that there’s something strangely intimate yet taboo about the way humans eat. Like it should be done behind closed doors, away from onlookers.
His human companion themself- had a particular affinity for food that was eaten directly with their hands. “Tastes better that way. Burrito, fries, sliced fruit. Sushi. It’s kind of nice to touch and feel it going into my mouth,” they said, muffled between bites.
There’s something sacred about the way Doc eats. They always do it with a reverent sort of enthusiasm. Completely indulging themself in it, not holding anything back. They cradled the burger as if with affection, with tenderness.
Hush felt oddly shameful, as he watched the food disappear past their lips into the cavern of their wet mouth. The act of watching them eat, almost voyeuristic in nature.
He imagined what it would be like to cook them a meal- the food that they metabolized being his own picking. He’d gather out the ingredients, meticulously cut and sear it.
He made up his mind to do so.
Hush found himself in front of a glass display of animal carcasses hanging from hooks. The flesh was plenty, hanging off the bone with white fat between the muscles. He couldn’t recognize what they used to be. The hook twisted the carcass slightly when a stray gust of wind moved it. On the rack, other rolls of meat filled with what looked like herbs sat. It was bound with twine rope, the layers of meat dimpled out provocatively. 
“You!” the burly man beside the display acknowledged him, sharpening his knife with a clink, clink, clink. “Are ya’ buyin’ anything or are you just gonna stare?” 
“Sorry.” 
Doc told him that it was wise to apologize whenever someone is displeased with him. They said it could get him out of unsavory situations. 
“What do people usually buy?” he asked, taking good care to make himself look as conventional as possible. 
“Eh,” he mindlessly tapped the cutting board with his knife. The cuts of meat around him shook slightly. “Rib’s popular if ya’ got the money. Shank for broth. Maybe…flank? For steak.” 
“The flank, then,” he said, looking him in the eyes as a sign of respect. He looked uncomfortable under his stare, and averted his gaze down to the board. 
“Ya got it.” He groaned with effort as he took one of the hanging pieces and put it on the table. Hush noticed that there’s hints of extremities, like two protruding hind legs. The man’s knife scored the top membrane- a thin film with a pinkish hue- to reveal ruby-red fibrous muscle. He cut the muscle away and folded it into a neat roll. “She’s a beauty, this one.” 
There’s a strange sort of tenderness the butcher had for the meat. The man was protective of them, like a father might for a daughter. He’d give Hush a glare whenever he stood too close to the chops, and cut the skin with a delicate hand when he himself was anything but. 
“How do you usually cook it?”
The flank sizzled in a sea of butter and garlic, red slowly turning into brown. Hush flipped the meat and it made a loud sound. 
Strangely, it reminded him of the demon in his companion’s apartment. The surge of rage and power that ran through his veins when he saw them threaten his companion. The explosion of connective tissue and viscera on the kitchen floor.
Both an act of devotion, he thought. His power tore through sinews and bone- and the knife in his hand sliced the flank clean, revealing the pink, rare, inside. Tempting in its dampness. 
Doc opened the door with a clatter of their keys when Hush was setting the steak on the dining table. It looked accurate enough to the pictures he saw in the books he studied. A firm, supple steak in the middle of the plate. A fork and knife on its side. He even set the table with a tablecloth, candleholders and a bowl of apples in the center. Romantic wasn’t quite the word he looked for when he did all this, but it was quite accurate to how picturesque the spread was. 
“I made you dinner,” he turned to them. “Oh, I was wondering why it smelled so strong,” they laughed as they put away their shoes. “Thanks, Hush. Appreciate the effort.” 
They looked surprised when they saw that the kitchen was clean despite the smell- although he committed to making the meal by hand, he’d used the help of magic to wash the dishes. “You really know how to spoil me,” they teased. “What’s the occasion?” 
“I like seeing you eat,” he confessed. “There’s something…appealing about it.” 
They raised an eyebrow, and good-naturedly huffed as they walked over to the dining table. “Thanks. I guess. I’ll take that as a compliment. Hey, you even set the table and everything.” 
“Yes. It’s to add to the experience. Humans eat with their eyes first, before their mouth.” 
Doc sat themselves down in front of the plate and gave Hush a strange look when he kept standing. They pat the seat beside them.
“Aren’t you going to sit down?” 
“Okay,” he obeyed and mirrored their sitting position. Hush watched as the human took the fork on the side of the plate and put a piece of steak in their mouth. “Mm. It’s really good,” they groaned. “Definitely not bad for a first try, Hush.” 
Hush felt satisfaction when he saw them enjoying the meal, the warm light of the candle lighting the planes of their face that twisted into indulgence. “To be honest, it’s kind of odd to be eating just steak and nothing else. But y’know what. I think there’s an appeal to it.” 
They cut another piece with the knife and pierced it with a fork before nudging it to Hush. “It’s your first time cooking anything, is it not? I think you should at least try what you made. Fruits of your labor and all.” 
“Why didn’t you eat with your hands?” he asked. “You said that it makes things taste better.” 
“Oh. Well I guess steak isn’t really a…hand food. In this scenario, anyway. Do you still wanna try this?” 
“No,” Hush answered. 
Doc hummed an assent and continued eating, Hush watching intently as they swirled the steak in butter before slowly closing their lips around it. He wondered if they did it on purpose.
“I’ve told you that there’s a lot of things I’d like to give you,” he broke the silence. “But, there’s something…I’d like you to give me.” 
They set the utensils on the plate, resting it. Their expression was thoughtful, unreadable. “...What do you want me to do?” 
“There’s a…feeling I get when I’m with you. Like I’m starving but there’s nothing that could fix that. It’s like…” 
Hush reached out to hold Doc’s hand. They gently squeezed it back and traced the back of his palm with their thumb. He guided it to hover above his neck, before lightly pressing it against his skin. He let out a noise from the back of his throat as he moved it down his clavicle, to his sternum. Their hand was warm when he moved it down his stomach in a straight line. 
He brought it up again, back to his neck and traced a horizontal line across the base of his throat. He felt Doc’s heart speed up, along with the tension in the atmosphere. He started another line at the bottom of his ribs, tracing across the fabric of his clothes.
“Like gutting a fish,” they muttered, entranced. “Or…butchering lamb.”
“Yes,” he approved. “Like meat. Like something alive.”
“I share a similar sentiment,” Doc uttered, half-lidded. In a quick gesture, they dropped themselves down to the table, pulling Hush down with them. The remaining plates clinked with the sudden movement. Hush noticed that they looked utterly pleased with themselves, as if laying between leftover steak and utensils like they were part of dinner was an indulgence he couldn’t understand. 
“I have something to offer you. A form of thanks for dinner.” 
Doc reached for Hush’s right hand and covered it with their own, not unlike how he held theirs earlier. Hush balanced on his other arm, caging them in with his body. They flashed him a rakish grin from below. Hush licked his dry lips, feeling like he was going to be swallowed whole, even when they couldn’t hurt him in a way that matters. He could feel their intense emotions: hunger, thrill, desire, frustration. Doc trailed both of their hands against their sternum, moving it past the collar of their shirt. It stopped on the right side of their neck, slightly below their jawline. They sighed into a pleasured smile, their eyes rolling back before meeting his gaze. “Do you feel it?” They whispered, wide-eyed and frenzied, firmly pressing his hand against their supple, pliant skin. 
Hush could feel the thump of a pulse, loud and clear through his heightened senses. It was a delicious sort of sound, the rush of something and its channel opening, closing, and opening again. A rhythm. “There’s thumping. Like your heart in your chest. I don’t understand what you’ve offered me.” 
“You will, in a bit,” they replied. “Your lack of pulse,  the lack of breathing, the lack of body temperature- it suggests that there’s nothing to be revealed. As it should, if what you told me was right- a disguise, a vessel for you to put a fraction of your power in.”
“That’s true. In a way,” he said, noting that he could feel their breath on his face- contrasting his lack of. “This isn’t… me. But more of a form of me.” 
Doc toyed with the ends of his hair that pooled on the side of their head, twirling it with their fingers. They laugh sardonically,” To a being like you, the human body is simple, inconsequential. But we have our secrets, too.” 
“It’s not,” Hush rebutted. “Human bodies are irrelevant to my purpose. Not yours, somehow. I want to know more about yours.” 
“Oh, you flatter me,” Doc slurred, their eyes ravenous. “Much like how you’re a container of instrumental force, the human body is also teeming with energy. Our veins are thrumming with life. Blood rushes to our extremities, pumping. Stomachs shrink and expand and absorb. This body…is the opposite of silence. It’s noise. Mechanical and biological in the way magic isn’t.” 
Hush could feel the pulse in their skin get louder and louder, along with the sloshing of blood, its passage narrowing and widening. A drop of sweat dripped down his human companion’s face. They reached for the knife- still dirty from the steak earlier. Doc finally let go of Hush’s hand in favor of wiping it off with their shirt, revealing their abdomen. 
“Hold this with me,” they pleaded.
Doc repeated their earlier position, his hand under theirs. They breathe heavily, their chest rising and falling. Doc guided the knife to the left of their chest. “Between the third and fourth rib- closest way you can reach the heart,” they muttered shakily, letting out a sound of pleasure from the back of their throat. They let the knife dig into their skin, not enough to pierce through, but enough to let the fabric of their shirt sink into its edge. 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Hush whispered. “Why do you want me to?” 
“Why?” the word rolled in their mouth. “You had every chance to. I know you could do it, even without the knife. I’ve seen you destroy Reticuli in seconds. What made me different? Just because you’re interested in me?” 
“If I’m in the way of your purpose- if I stood in the way of your mission, would you? You let me go after capturing me when we first met- is that not a defiance of your purpose?” 
“I-” he faltered, eyes searching for meaning when there was none. 
“Aw,” they cooed. “Am I so important that you’d forgo what you were made for?” 
“Either way, I’m not asking you to,” they laughed warmly, their breath warm against Hush’s pulseless neck. “I’m giving you an option because I know you wouldn’t do it.”
“You knew? What’s the point of doing that, then?” 
“I like you. And I trust you. I need to know that this isn’t a mistake,” Doc said lightly, as if they were used to being on the other end of a knife. Realization dawned on Hush- the fact that unlike himself, who did the things he did for the sake of his larger purpose- Doc seeks thrill, jumping headfirst into an opportunity to put their life in danger. It’s a strange form of taking control, being out of it and accepting that they couldn’t do anything but give in. 
“I can feel the gears turning in your head, Hush.” 
Doc tangled Hush’s hair in their fingers and tucked it behind his ear, lightly grazing his cheek with intention. “It’s cute.”
Hush felt the ever-so-familiar feeling, the clawing mix of hunger and desire coiling in his immaterial gut. He licked his lips. Doc shrugged at the lack of an answer,”Well, If you’re not interested. I’ve worked up quite an appetite.” 
Doc supported their weight on one of their elbows and leaned forward. They reached back for an apple from the centerpiece bowl and started to peel it with nimble hands. They cut a piece and popped it into their mouth while keeping their gaze on him, as if daring Hush to do something. 
For once, Hush felt himself break. 
He took the apple from Doc’s hands and did something that would’ve been unthinkable before he met them. 
Completely irrelevant to his purpose, completely self indulgent. 
He took a large bite out of it, tasting the odd flavor. There’s a crunch, and he could feel his teeth sinking into the flesh. Cloying and sweet. Wet. The juice drips down his lips, down his chin, onto his clothes. He let it and watched Doc swallow, wordless. It’s succulent, ripe. Unmoored, he finished what he could, leaving only the core intact. 
“Delicious,” Hush commented, looking down at Doc, sprawled and pinned like a butchered animal.
Hush sensed the want to gorge, a craving. He could no longer tell whether it was Doc’s or his. It’s hazy, like his being was covered in fog and he only relied on the sense of taste for sensation. Doc looked at him, hungry, ravenous. When their gazes met, they both understood, a phrase coming to both their minds. Good enough to eat, his thoughts repeated. It wasn’t a fight for dominance, but rather submission. The will to give in to be ravaged by the other. 
He pressed his lips to theirs. It was Doc who deepened it, eating his face and mouth, draining him of what he has to offer. It was frantic, depraved, spit-slick and messy. He let out a noise. Hush noted that it was not unlike the pleasured sigh Doc did when they ate the burger. 
On the dinner table, Hush felt himself consumed as he indulged in what he had deprived himself of. This was the closest Hush was to being human since his half-death. 
The closest he was to being sated.
Satisfied. 
Full.
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