#cut for long post

[gallusrostromegalus]

Move To A Darker Place

This is a story of Man Vs. Machine.

---

Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.

My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God.  He taught himself how to use his smartphone.  Internationally.

So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.

It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity. 

“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”

The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.

a.k.a: A Selfie.

“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.

Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.

“Oh. You should have said so.”  Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.

Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.

“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid.  My father is a bit… cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment. Alas.

Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution:  He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.

But I digress.

After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.

And here is where the real trouble began.

See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose.  While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.

He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada.  He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.

He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.

She looked back at him, and farted.

“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her. 

She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.

So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.

The System thought about it for a few moments.

Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.

“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”

He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.

“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.

Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System.  It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”.  He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.

As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.

“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.

“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.

Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room.  It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds.  Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled. 

“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.

Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.

“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan.  With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.

This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.

“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted.  The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.

Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.

“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.

He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face. She did not have the phone. 

“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.  

Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape.  She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.

“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.

To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!

“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”

---

I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.

It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times.  Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System.  It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.

“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy!  My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year.  I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”

He handed me the image.

My father was, technically, in the image.  A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair.  Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.

“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”

“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing). 

“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”

Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked  car?” he asked suspiciously.

“The very same.” Dad grinned.

“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”

---

I'm a disabled artist making my living writing these stories. If you enjoy my stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Book on Patreon. Thank you!

[psych-is-the-name]

[ink-the-artist]

Rabbits

Some bonus art, I initially started making this in a totally different art style but changed my mind about halfway through lmao, here are the parts I finished

[bamsara]

COTL / TROD AU Reference Sheets and OC refs that I made a few months ago and have been using but forgot to post. The cloaks on Narinder and Lamb, and heights and clothing of the bishops are semi-outdated, but the OC height sheet is accurate.

+ Joon, Grekimar, and Jayen refs. There's character lore and relationship info for them under the cut, I'll get to the rest of them eventually:

Character lore, mainly for artfight purposes but putting it here too. Some of this character lore is already established in fic or on here, but may contain spoilers for Trod later on.

😺Joon (They/Them):

Born and raised in the Lamb's flock with little outside wordly experience, the Yellow Cat aka 'Joon' is the best farmer in the flock with an upbeat attitude and a easy-going, casual outlook on life. They're a hard worker and a harder napper, which lands them in a particular situation when a accidental nap inside a barn leads to them witnessing the Leader drag in a bloody, confused, volatile worm The Lamb shakily says was rescued from Darkwood, before reluctantly leaving them to the yellow cat's care. Which is fine, because if the leader says it's fine, then it's fine. Totally.

With their accidental involvement, Joon is assigned to be Leshy's 'caretaker', or really just a supervisor to make sure the worm doesn't do anything terrible and to report to the Lamb if he does anything weird, all without ever being truly told of the worm's true nature.

🐷Grekimar (He/Him):

Originally a heretic in Anura, Grekimar is a 'relatively' new cultist to the Lamb's Flock ('New' being a few years, but still not as long as other flock members.) Although the pig used to conduct violence and sacrifices in the God of Famine's name, he was welcomed to the Flock as a new member after he began to question the strength of the rule of dead god and was exiled. His arrival was met with scrutiny but was eventually welcomed as he's a hard worker, and surprisingly (due to his gruff demeanor), cares for his new home and it's peaceful rules over his prior home, including it's inhabitants.

When a three eyed cat arrives and threatens the saftey of his fellow flock, Grekimar becomes a dissenter and questions the Leader's decision, joining alliance with The Lamb's highest disciple, Tyren, to scheme and kill the cat in order to protect the flock.

🐻Jayen (He/Him):

A kindhearted and rather soft-spoken soul, Jayen is 'gentle giant' archtype character. Brought to the cult as a cub, Jayen is an anxious 'left-over' type, with no particular skills or qualities that are seemingly 'useful' to the flock or it's Leader, and he is very self-consious about this. Switching inbetween jobs and struggling to find his place among the cult's growing number, Jayen is decayed and killed by a furious Narinder in an attempt to pull him off of The Lamb when the cat's dramatic initial arrival happened. He is later revived, now traumatized and with a heightened fear of death.

Although his murderer walks free, the same cat had revived him as well, so Jayen holds no ill will and would rather simply leave it all behind and not think about it all. However, he is roped into a scheme to kill Narinder by Tyren and Grekimar, with the former using the bear's fears of death to pressure him into helping.

Tyren's, Grekimar's, and Jayen's relationships:

-While Tyren is a loyal disciple and Grekimar a regular dissenter, both found common ground in wanting to Kill Narinder, though their reasonings differ. Tyren wants to kill Narinder being an obstacle to the Lamb, while Grekimar wants to rid of him for concerns to protect the cult. While they can put aside their differences to achieve their goal, Tyren's methods will make Grekimar reconsider his alliance with the dog.

-Tyren pressures Jayen into working with him and Grekimar under the guise that if they do not kill Narinder, then the cat will eventually kill him again. If that tactic does not work, Tyren will subtly imply that he will use his status in the cult to undermine Jayen, and possibly exile him for being 'useless.'

-Grekimar thinks Jayen a coward, and while he'll pressure the bear to do as he is told, the pig is conflicted about getting the bear involved.

[artkaninchenbau]

People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again

[astrcthesiai-archived]

SHIPPING INFO //

ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSE(S) SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

tagged by: this was stolen. tagging: all of you.

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER(S)?

Original Characters (first because I said so)

Mira: MiraLaw (romantic or platonic. Rivals in finding the most bones perhaps?), WoL!Mira/Emet-Selch (Hades), WoL!Mira/Emet/Hyth (I just want to absolutely destroy Mira in Endwalker ok? ok.), Mira/OC (Mira is likely going to be Thanatos, Death, or Hades in this pair. I'm sorry.) Anything that reminds me of Life/Death, Light/Darkness, Fire/Ice. When there’s no one to ship, she’s with Crimson. Mira/Canon, Mira/OC.

Jasper: Has a bad case of unrequited first love. He loves Mira, but Mira only sees him as a brother. If you can love him through that, he’ll make a good boyfriend! Jasper/Canon, Jasper/OC. He is a pretty hardy noble/wealthy/spoiled brat, having been through several near-death experiences.

Crimson: Eustass/Crimson, Crimson is full of fire, fun, and passion! Crimson/Canon, Crimson/OC. When there’s no one to ship, she’s with Mira. She has a weakness toward redheads.

Nerissa: She is a Fishwoman that loves humans. Nerissa/Canon, Nerissa/OC. I played around with Nerissa/Crocodile and Nerissa/Shanks. If you want a very tall, strong woman for a girlfriend, there's Nerissa.

Miyuki: AceYuki, SaboYuki, KoalaYuki, and survived!LamiYuki. Miyuki/Canon, Miyuki/OC. While I do want to make her happy, she has a tendency towards people who were character deathed... I liken her to anything water related, and I do headcanon her as having a mermaid ancestor, so she can stay underwater longer than a regular human could. In FFXIV, she's a Xaela Auri female who is a sky pirate navigator. I ship her Unsundered self with Hythlodaeus.

Marie: She is on the asexual and aromantic spectrum. Marie/Canon, Marie/OC. She manipulates blood and it would be great if her partner can stomach that.

Marquis: Marie's twin brother, he is also on the asexual and aromantic spectrum. Marquis/Canon, Marquis/OC. He is a mad scientist and fights with various blades including and not limited to scalpels.

Ana: AnaMarco, as for her ffxiv self, has been playing with the idea of Ana/Nero/Cid lately. Ana/Canon, Ana/OC.

Shakti: When there are no ships around, it's usually Rockette/Shakti against the world! Shakti/Canon, Shakti/OC. In One Piece, she is a sky islander. In ffxiv, she is a Viera.

Rockette: When there are no ships around, it's usually Rockette/Shakti against the world! Rockette/Canon, Rockette/OC. In One Piece, she is a wealthy gal born in a family or architects, but she wants to walk in the footsteps of shipwrights! In ffxiv, she is a Viera.

Feiyu: Feiyu/Canon, Feiyu/OC. They are AFAB nonbinary and prefer all pronouns.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

I'm good as long as both parties are over 25. I do ship Ana with someone older than her.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW?

So long as both are unclothed it's mature. There are other ways to be intimate while nude, but just to be safe...

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

Yes, or I like to think I am. I like to make sure we're on the same page just abouts.

WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

All of my pairings are OTPs pretty much. I just need to roleplay a couple of times to consider them as such. I've just grown really shy about asking for some reason...

Canon Characters

Chrome Dokuro: 6996, 9618, 96MM (kinda sorta), Chrome/Canon, Chrome/OC

Nico Robin: RobinFranky, RobinLaw, Robin/Canon, Robin/OC

Nefertari Vivi: ViviNami, ViviLuffy, Vivi/Canon, Vivi/OC

Eiji Okumura: EijiAsh, ShorEiji

Hino Rei/Sailor Mars: MinaRei (Venus/Mars), Jadeite/Rei, Rei/OC, Rei/Canon

Kaiou Michiru/Sailor Neptune: MichiHaru (Neptune/Uranus), MamoruMichiru, Michiru/OC, Michiru/Canon. Mamoru and Haruka are the only masculines I can see her dating. (*Haruka is bigender/agender depending on the rper)

Roberto de Niro/OC

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

Yes, otherwise, I won't know your intentions for my characters. I will assume it's friendship related and steer on the side of caution. I am, however, shy about asking.

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

People may consider me ship obsessed, but I like to think I'm ship more or less nowadays. Leaving you to be the judge of that, but for safety, it's both.

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?

Yes, depending on the character. Roberto I am not shipping him at this time. Marie, Endorsi, and Marquis are on the asexual and aromantic spectrum. It's not impossible to ship them, it's just there needs to be a lot of communication.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

It's usually the oc/canon route. I like all my ships, but I may have more muse for some than others at a given time.

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

You just come up to me and say you want to ship with me in my DMs, IMs and ask. I'll look at you like a deer in the headlights, and try my best to remember how a character acts like in a ship...

[dapper-lil-arts]

If Rainbow Dash had whatsapp 🤣🤣🤣

[milkywayes]

■■■■ Shepard / earthborn / sole survivor / soldier. lovingly annotated.

scar refs (censored nsfw) under the cut >:) since I drew it and all.

[jesncin]

John Constantine, the Chimera Twin storyline. A fancomic about grief, and our reimagining of the Golden Boy arc from Hellblazer.

[faeriehighfemme]

oh nothing just imagining me spread out lazily on our couch, legs wide, robe spilling open to reveal my nipples peaked, glistening with spit and sensitive. my fingers move nonchalantly, circling my sticky swollen clit, long nails over-stimulating the tender nerves there. i stare at the door with glazed eyes, hazy head playing out scene after scene of my big bad butch coming home to have their way with me.

maybe i’d hear the lock turn while edging, desperately trying to hold back from cumming just from the sight of you. the strain is nearly headache inducing, a pulsing sensation only intensified as my hungry gaze meets yours. you’d drop your bag, unclip your carabiner and toss your keys. i’d whimper at the sound of your belt unbuckling, hot tears welling in my eyes. “started without me?” you’d say breathlessly. “you know better.” my heart would pound as i watch your rings slide off and hit the table. belt in your free hand, you kneel to inspect me, knuckles roughly pushing my pussy lips apart. your breath on my labia makes me gasp. “oh,” you’d whisper. for a moment you’d simply stare, smiling, then suddenly, smack smack smack. three sharp slaps right on my clit. i wouldn’t be able to stop myself from crying out. “shh, shh, hush baby. it’ll be over soon. just hold still.” that wasn’t true though. it was only beginning. when you were ready, when you saw that i just couldn’t take anymore, the belt you so hastily removed earlier would come in handy…

or maybe you’d walk in while i was drooling, fingers down my throat, desperately wishing they were yours. you’d look me over slowly, shaking your head. “silly thing,” you’d tease. “you’re doing it all wrong.” i’d clench tight around nothing as you cracked your knuckles. you’d come to move my hand away, so softly, taking a moment to swipe your thumb over my puffy bottom lip. “missed me that much huh?” i’d nod eagerly. before giving me what i needed you’d run two fingers up my slit, collecting as much of my nectar as you could. you’d grip my jaw firmly and make my hazy eyes meet yours. my lips would part instinctively, tongue lolling towards your familiar touch. “go on princess,” you’d murmur. with your permission i’d take the fingers of your free hand in my mouth, greedily. “there, there, i’m here now baby,” you’d coo, almost condescendingly. “i’ll remind you how to fingerfuck your pretty mouth properly.”

you might get home to find i wasn’t so patient. you’d see me draped on the sofa drenched in sweat squirt and slobber, grinning tiredly at you as if i won some secret game. the dark look on your face would only cause my smile to grow. “bunny…” you’d growl. “that was a mistake.” soon you’d be between my legs, base deep and thrusting steady, slow as you please. in and out, in and out, almost torturously languid. i’d try to buck my hips, desperate to speed things up, but your arm would keep them pinned down. “no, no. you don’t get to set the pace, bunny.” you’d keep your rhythm, now the one smirking. “you lost that privilege.”

so much to think about… is that the door i hear?

[luxmoogle]

The return of "A sound of waves" ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔~! An old unfinished project re-drawn and finished up..

Part one! // Part 2

[gallusrostromegalus]

A Miracle In The Night

Sometimes, you get an idea for a lightly fucked up short story. TW: Death, mild gore, Plot Twist :)

---

She travels through the night And listens

Some might call her home dark and cold and akin to the lowest levels of hell, But their heaven burns her eyes and skin and her very breath To her, The Endless Night is Paradise

The whole world was like this once, in the very beginning The Divine Darkness which contains the potential for every tragedy and miracle and everything in between, and she is blessed  to travel through the gardens of creation.

The Night created everything, even God, who lives in the burning world and blesses the sinless beings of the night with the very force of life.

But not even Paradise is free of suffering.

It should be this way, of course- nothing would ever happen otherwise. Everything that happens is a miracle. It’s just a question of who the Miracle is for.

There will be a Miracle tonight. She can feel it- the tension is electric across her skin, gut tightening, every sense on edge.

Starvation leads to such peculiar sensitivity.

She’s on the verge of death-  It should be this way, otherwise nothing could be alive. But she’s closer to the edge than usual.

It’s been so long since she felt the Burning Love of God within her. The delicious taste of good fortune in the night Chasing ecstasy with a racing heart and feeling her body fly The heat in her belly, seeping out through her until it filled her with the Divine Warmth of God’s Love.

It’s been so, so long since she’s eaten.

It’s been uneasy- the breathing of the world has been unsteady of late- too early and too late, out of time like it has become ill and all things suffer for it. There is nothing to partake of in her usual hunting grounds, so she has traveled far, far from home, into a brighter and hotter part of the night.

Here, the protective wall between her and the burning world exists only in scattered fragments, and strange and monstrous things traverse the thin veil between their worlds.

Here, the eternal night has been invaded by noxious, screaming beasts from the burning world above.  They race with their bodies straddling the barrier between their worlds, far faster than anything has the right to fly, howling with a deafening voice that can be heard for hundreds of miles.

It’s a problem because she cannot hear the songs of her prey.

Everything sings, if one will listen. The high, chiming pings of the smallest stars flashing with bioluminescence around her. The long, low songs of the fire-breathers, who hunt here in the abyss for one of her oldest brothers, but return to the barrier and briefly cross it to breathe before they return. Even the earth sings- the moan and crack of her body as she shifts her weight, the almost invisible inhale and exhale of her seasons. She even builds great musical instruments of ash and smoke and an even hotter burning than the world above, singing the tale of the first days of creation in honor of the endless night.

But the behemoths do not sing.

They scream and scream and scream and their piss reeks of vile poison and overexertion. Almost like the way an injured animal can put on a miraculous turn of speed to escape pursuit. What might be pursuing such behemoths is an awful but intriguing consideration. Perhaps the behemoths are the little darting beings of the burning world, and the thing they flee the equivalent of herself. She’s seen it before, when the moon is high and she travels up to the barrier, and the little dancing bodies leap across the barrier to avoid her.

To that end, she can only wish her counterpart good hunting- both in the sympathy between one apex predator and another, and the hope that maybe it will get better at catching the behemoths before they come into her world.

Still, Where there is disturbance, There is also opportunity.

There are rumors from those that live closer to the barrier that the behemoths piss poison but shit out bounties- the wastes of these things are food direct from the burning world, where God lives, and that waste is full of The Divine Warmth of Life. The direct waste is devoured by the smallest and fastest things first, but when they are clustered at their feast, they are easier for the larger beings to partake in, and so too larger things than they until even her most beautiful borderland sister with the belly pale as the moon is now as round as it, fat with the blessing of pups.

So she has ventured as close as she dares to the world of her sisters in hopes of finding the rumored prey so full of the Burning Love of God.

She needs it. She can’t live without it.

A Miracle will happen tonight.

Whether for her or the crawling lives of the deepest night remains to be seen.

She follows the terrible screaming song of the behemoth in silence and prays for a miracle. She does not sing praise when she prays. She preys when she prays.

The highest reverence to The Divine Night is to Listen. To travel in silence, and take in all the songs of The Night.

So she makes herself silent and listens and listens and listens to the screaming song, hoping that somewhere in the noise, she can hear the soft voice of God.

This time God answers with a voice like thunder.

It really is like being too close to a lightning strike, the way the noise viscerally passes through her and lights up every nerve, teeth gritting and body thrashing as she feels the voice of God the same way she feels the body of a lover against her own.

The scream of the behemoth changes. It sputters, then pitches wildly, low visceral injury and high keening pain, like the fire-breathers when they try to hunt the largest of her brothers and become prey themselves.

Oh, what a beautiful song to something like her.

She aches, weak and tired, but hope and joy surge through her and she forces herself to move at speed, even for all the energy it takes, because perhaps the miracle is for her tonight- 

She flies as fast as she can towards the dying behemoth, as does every brother and sister and ancestor and descendant, all as desperate to feast upon God’s Love as she- all of them race forward but then up, and up and up up to where the Behemoth is sinking into their world- It has run upon a fragment of the protective barrier hard enough to tear it's side and break it's back. There is the terrible acrid scent of it’s noxious  piss and if she were not on the verge of starvation it might be enough to put her off the feast.  

But she flies on and up- even weak with hunger she is one of the largest and fastest of her family when she needs to be, so she is the first to smell other strange things from the behemoth- burning flavors that sting her nose and mouth, as well as sweet things that confuse intrigue, and-

Oh. Oh, GOD!

It’s blood but nothing like any blood she’s tasted before- it’s actually HOT in the night, burning with the warmth of the other world even this far from it’s origin, rich and fatty and metallic like the flesh of a fallen fire-breather but even more so.  She spreads her wings and sways her hips and spine to fly as fast as she can, the way a lover pursues her- full of nothing but adoration and a desire to make their bodies as one.

Then in a beam of moonlight, she sees the first of the bodies from the burning world.

The frenzy at the behemoth is a feast for the ages, from the exultant chorus above, and the fact that even with every member of her family for a hundred miles around at the feast, there are so many bodies to feast upon that a body is falling past the festivities to her, uneaten and whole.

What a strange and beautiful body it is.

She pauses, circling it even as her mouth and gut ache for it, studying the being from the burning world.

It’s hot, hotter than any body she’s ever felt before, even though it is very definitely dead, as unsuited to breathe the night as she is to breathe fire. Its wings are long and twist strangely, like the tentacles of her brothers that are hunted by the fire-breathers. It’s awkwardly shaped, like the crawling five-winged creatures of the mud, but not quite.  There is an almost unsettling familiarity to its symmetry.

The fire-breathers say they used to live in the burning world, but returned to the night, and that all the beasts of the burning world had too once come from the night. It had sounded absurd, but looking upon the form of this being now, she wondered.

Well. Only the one thing to do, really.

Gently, she approaches the being, opens her mouth to embrace it, and welcomes it home to the night.

There is no love like the love the predator feels for its prey.  It is reverence made flesh- O holy being, oh virtue to pursue and make one’s own.It is the flesh made reverent- Please, little being of the burning world, let her love you as she loves her own children, the weight of your body deep within her own. 

There is no gratitude like the gratitude a predator feels for its prey. She owes you her life tonight, little being of the burning world. She lives from the mercy of your body alone. It is already a kindness she can never repay to live by your generosity, but oh, you made it so sweet-  Your blood intoxicates her senses, your body thrillingly warm- as agonizing as the fire of the burning world is to breathe in, it’s just as wonderful to swallow.

You are so sweet, so sweet, she will remember this favor forever.

There is no miracle like the divine connection between predator and prey. Oh child of the burning world, you who brings the Warmth of God into The Endless Night, You burning being of God’s Love. She is blessed by you, messenger of God.  Through you she receives the miracle of life.

Welcome, little burning being Welcome home to the night from whence you came Welcome inside her deepest self, and receive her hospitality.

She swallows the little burning being up with adoration, feeling it settle within her. Relief, ecstasy and satisfaction swirl but are interrupted by the appearance of another body. And another And another And another

The Behemoth itself falls, it’s body still curiously dynamic even torn in half- one end dives for the bottom of the night with somewhat alarming speed, where the other glides along to the depths on an angled path, the distant motion still visible with the bioluminescence it stirs up along it’s path. It is massive beyond anything she's seen before, more like a piece of geography than a living organism.

And all along its wake, hundreds of bodies spill forth from inside.

What a strange miracle this is. But she’s not one to refuse God’s Love. And if the beings of the burning world travel in huge schools with their behemoth, the peculiar notion that the little being within her might be lonely occurs to her. …Wow, she’s REALLY drunk.

Still, she eats three more of the burning beings before her guts are almost bursting with fullness, a bizarre sensation she’d only heard about from those who had been fortunate enough to feast on the fallen body of a fire-breather and had to leave the excess to the crawling beings of the bottom. So too, does she watch more bodies descend deep into the night as she returns to her world of darkness and song, the behemoth’s terrible screams now silent with rest, and the choir of the night rejoicing in this miracle.

---

Two miles above the revelry of God’s Favorite Greenland Shark, the survivors of the Titanic prayed into the endless night for a miracle, unaware it had already been granted.

[theminecraftbee]

so, you've been considering getting into hermitcraft.

that's great! welcome! we are an extremely enthusiastic fandom, i admit, but we are very happy to have you watching the hermits! however, with over a decade of existence and twenty-seven current hermits, it can feel very intimidating to get into hermitcraft. luckily, as of the time of this posting--january 31st, 2024--it's also the BEST time to get into hermitcraft, because a new season starts on february 3rd! (and if you're reading this later: don't worry. this is ALSO the best time to get into hermitcraft. don't worry about it i'll get into that.)

the shortest version of this advice is: start wherever you want, with whoever you want. it doesn't matter, you can catch up.

still, it can seem like a lot. so, from someone who's been around since mid season seven, here is a more detailed guide on how to start watching hermitcraft!

what is hermitcraft?

hermitcraft is a collection of people who all play on the same survival multiplayer minecraft server. that server is a mostly vanilla minecraft server; i don't really call hermitcraft "vanilla" anymore, as they rely on a number of largely cosmetic mods, but the things they do on hermitcraft should, broadly, all be possible in vanilla minecraft, and the server still "feels" vanilla, so. vanilla minecraft. they do this in "seasons", which are periods of time between a year and two years, after which they reset and start on a fresh server.

in comparison to something like qsmp or even the life series, hermitcraft leans heavily on the "building cool things and hanging out" side of the spectrum as opposed to the roleplay side. however, at least once a season the hermits like to do a big storyline; sometimes, it's more frequent. many of the storylines are more natural escalations of things like server prank wars or a failing server economy, though, as opposed to things that are clearly in-universe roleplaying. don't worry, though; you'll know a hermitcraft storyline when you see it. by everyone's bad acting. also, by rendog putting on a silly accent.

if your only impression of hermitcraft has been from the fandom, you... probably have a somewhat mistaken impression. my bad. in my defense, i am a horror writer at heart, and in the fandom's defense, a LOT of crossover has happened with the life series fandom, which leads to both sort of leaking into each other. in general, expect things to be on the lighthearted goofy shenanigans side with very few exceptions when you're actually watching hermitcraft, despite the way the fandom tends to be.

where is hermitcraft?

broadly, youtube! hermitcraft is an almost entirely video series, and if you want to watch a hermitcrafter, you will almost certainly need to watch them on youtube. there are only very rarely streamed hermitcraft events, and these are normally announced ahead of time.

what if i prefer twitch?

skip the rest of this and just watch joe hills. i promise i'm not saying that because i'm a joe hills guy; i'm saying it because he's the only hermit that consistently streams from hermitcraft. impulse, tango, cleo, pearl, xisuma, iskall, and hypno all also appear to stream fairly regularly, but it's not always from hermitcraft.

where should i start?

now, that's the real question, isn't it? my answer is simple: start Now. if you're reading this as i post it, that means start this saturday on everyone's episode one. if you're reading this long after i post it, though, just... go ahead and start with whoever you want to watch's latest episode! the nice thing about hermitcraft is that you can GENERALLY jump in wherever you want.

but what about old seasons?

you do not need to watch older seasons of hermitcraft. unless you want to, of course; the world is your oyster and they are very good! however, there's also a LOT of old hermitcraft, and if you want to join in with what hermitcraft is doing now, old seasons aren't necessary. very little carries over from season to season. while sometimes old "lore" or recurring bits can carry references over, and the relationships between hermits will often carry over to some extent (if often not in the same patterns), it is never to an extent that you need the old seasons for context. each season is a clean new slate, and where "lore" carries over, the relevant hermit will almost always explain it to you.

what about helsknight/evil x/hotguy/boatem/convex/some other thing i've been hearing about?

i promise, if they are relevant to this season, they will explain it to you in the relevant episode and/or it will be easy enough to pick up. do not worry about it. each season is a soft reset for a reason, and one of those reasons is to make it easier on new viewers! and if you're here because you WANTED one of those specific things... ask an older fan! they'll be able to direct you to the places they're from.

do i need to watch all the hermits?

absolutely not! in fact, i strongly recommend you don't. there are going to be... hold on let me count... twenty-seven hermits? (i am bad at counting don't quote me on this) in this season alone. keeping up with all those videos is too much for basically anyone! instead, pick a few hermits that you like best, and if you want to keep up with everyone else, go to the hermitcraft recap youtube channel and watch that! it is a vital hermitcraft resource where pixlriffs, zloyxp, and lyarrah all watch every single hermit so that we don't have to. honor their sacrifice and don't try to watch everyone.

but how do i pick someone?

few ways! there exist, if you google, plenty of "choosing your hermit pov" quizzes; if you head over to the hermitcraft subreddit, for example, i'll be SHOCKED if they don't have one, and if you go over to the recap channel, they had one of those for a while too. this is the starting place for many people.

another way is to watch the recap and choose whoever's project interests you most. for early episodes, this may be hard, but since hermits tend to go hard for their first episode, you'll normally at least be able to pick up a sense of pace and build style.

just watching whoever it is your friends are obsessed with is also a tried and true method of finding your first hermit; frequently, like with the recap, this is a good method for then figuring out whose style you like best, and switching to them, if you don't end up clicking with the same people your friends click with.

finally, you can just... click a random hermit's channel! try a few out! maybe you heard about decked out and want to watch tango; maybe there's a storyline you want to start watching because the dash has been rambling about it; maybe you just want to know who this grain character is. clicking around until you find the guy whose editing you click with is a totally valid strategy!

that sounds hard. just pick someone for me.

if you like well-edited shenanigans: grian or mumbo jumbo. (these are also good starter hermits in general, i've found; if you aren't sure where else to start, start with one of them.)

if you like long background noise-type videos: docm77

if you like minigames: tangotek.

if you like a chill video: xbcrafted or, if the texture pack gets you, vintagebeef.

if you like storylines: rendog or grian, again. (i was trying not to double-up, but if you're here from an rp-heavy server, grian remains a great entry point in that regards.)

if you like to see something new and bizarre: zedaph if you prefer highly-edited videos, joe hills if you prefer lightly edited videos.

if you want the best building on hermitcraft: pearlescentmoon or bdoubleo100, special mention to goodtimeswithscar.

if you want someone as new as you: i'll come back and edit in whoever the new hermits are once we know! but them.

if you just want one of my favorites: zombiecleo or iskall85.

thank you! what if i DO want to know what the fandom is always on about?

that, i'm afraid, i don't know how to help you with. you'll just have to watch hermitcraft from here--and maybe read some of the fanworks that have intrigued you--and find out for yourself!

good luck out there, and i hope this has helped someone!

[robo-milky]

Paper doll Rollo!

Hehe his hat is detachable- I really wanted an excuse to make his ahoge and show it

Oddly enough for my first paperdoll (I’ve made paper children before), I just gotta recreate one of the most complex designs for some reason idk why??? Rollo was meant to be practice and goddamn did struggling on him force me to problem solve- I do hope to make Rook and Cloche <3

[Process] (In the form of IG stories + ramblings)

[valgeristik]

This scene for Gale triggered for me in the funniest place possible

[palmviolet]

And they'd cut around your face, grip your scalp, yank down, rip your face off… And they'd put a mirror in front of you so you could get a good look at yourself.