#good goblins share some of their hoard with their friends

[aura-dragonfly]

So close to being full. Gotta wait until tomorrow night. A bit too chilly to be out there though.

[balls-into-laundrybaskets]

"i kinda assumed that was obvious..."

suggestions: OPEN

Eddie Munson x Reader!Gender Neutral **[18+]**

summary: After a particularly long D&D session, you get ready to go home but Eddie asks you out on a late night adventure

tags: mutual!pining ; foreplay ; fingering ; protected sex

wc: 21.5 k

~

It was another long night of playing Dungeons and Dragons across the Hawkins High School gymnasium. You had all started at 8 o’clock sharp and the time was now encroaching on 10:30. The snacks had run out and your friends were starting to nervously glance at their watches, wondering if they were going to make it out by curfew. 

Hellfire’s eccentric DM, Eddie Munson, leaned forward in his seat, his hands clasped together and brought to his lips. He watched as his players attempted to crack his latest dungeon puzzle and tried his best not to roll his eyes. These people could take on a hoard of skeletons and goblins no problem but when they come face to face with a door? He could practically hear their shared brain cell ping-ponging from each head. 

You sat down the table from him. You were shifting through the extensive notes you took, trying to find a clue or a tool that could help. 

You were a few months new to Hellfire. You had joined the group after being paired with Eddie in a science lab. It was the day everyone was supposed to be preparing for a test but, instead of taking notes on the lesson, Eddie was crouched over his composition notebook and scribbling furiously. You couldn’t help yourself so you innocently asked what he was doing.

“I can’t decide whether I want to have them fight 3 orcs or 4,” he said.

“O-Orcs? Like in Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

His ears perked up. “You’ve read Tolkien?”

“Yeah. It was a bit of a slog to get through. He really does go on and on about trees,” you responded smartly. 

With this he started to chuckle. “If you must know, I’m planning an attack for my D&D campaign next week.”

“Now you’ve lost me,” you smiled. 

“I run the Dungeons and Dragons club, Hellfire? You know, we wear these cool t-shirts.” He said, gesturing to the faded tee under his jacket. The scary red demon sneered back at you. 

“Did you make that yourself?” you laughed.

Eddie beamed, “I did, indeed. This is genuine sharpie!” 

You leaned into him and smiled, “Where can I get me one?”

“You gotta join Hellfire,” he smirked in an impish way, “Unless you’re scared.” He held out his hand for you. 

“You don’t know the lengths I’d go for a free t-shirt.” You shook his hand.

Many long nights later, you established yourself as “Lord Brasinworth Gwynith of Fflewdurr”, human barbarian. It was tough in the beginning, getting the rest of Hellfire warmed up to the idea of a stranger infiltrating the group. Luckily, you knew that they could be easily won over with a few good slices of pizza. 

“I’m going to pick the lock using my thief’s tools,” Gareth tried, looking anxiously up at the benevolent DM. 

“I’ve already inspected the door, dingus. It doesn’t have any traditional locking mechanisms,” Jeff interjected, “It’s clearly locked by some kind of magic.”

“Then why didn’t you dispel the magic?” Gareth spat.

“Because I used all my spell slots on that stupid mimic that SOMEONE had to try and open!”

Eddie rubbed his fingers to his temples. “ENOUGH!” The two bickering boys fell silent. “We’ll pick this up next week.”

“C’mon, Eddie! We can’t leave it here!” Gareth said.

“It’s just a stupid door!” Jeff followed, “Let’s keep going!”

“Y/N,” Eddie barked, arms crossed, “What say you?”

You snapped up at your name being called. The entirety of the group looked to you for your answer. You could feel the pressure mounting. The only solace you found was in your DM’s warm brown eyes. He started to soften when your eyes met his. 

“I think we should come back to this,” you said, “We’ll solve the puzzle better with a clearer head.” 

Eddie’s lips turned up into a smile. He rose from behind his folder and gestured to the group. “Until next time, friends.” The rest of Hellfire let out a collective groan and began to pack up their things. You sheepishly began packing your things away into your backpack, same as the others. Player after player left the building, until it was just the two of you.

Inspecting the amount of trash to be cleaned up, you decided to stay behind and help. Eddie silently watched as you picked up loose Hostess cake wrappers and styrofoam cups from the table. Dumping the rest of the garbage in a nearby can, you decided to break the silence.

“You’re very good at making puzzles,” you said. Immediately you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. What a stupid thing to say, you thought. 

“I might venture to say I’m too good at making puzzles,” your DM chuckled. 

“I mean, it’s not your fault that we’re idiots,” you laugh.

He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “I’ve never said any of you were! Well, at least not to your faces.” The corners of his lips turn up into a smile, “I’m kidding. I would never call you an idiot, Highness.”

Eddie only called you “Highness” whenever you were playing as your character. He must’ve found it incredibly amusing but he had no idea the effect it truly had on you. Whether you were planning to or not, you began developing a crush on your DM. It started in secret, and you tried to deny it, thinking that you were just excited to play D&D or attending science class that day. 

But who’re we kidding? 

It was a mixture of his roguish looks and his attitude. You wanted to hear him talk about the things he was excited for, whether that be the campaign, music, books, movies, anything. Where others in the school found him creepy or weird, you found his quirks endearing. You truly didn’t understand how someone so genuinely funny and playful could have such a horrendous reputation. Not that he seemed to mind (or, if he did, he never showed it). 

The last of the garbage was picked up and Eddie swung his backpack onto his shoulder. You felt now was the time to start saying goodbye and walk to your car but he stopped you.

“Y’know, I was thinking about stopping by the game store and seeing if they had any new campaigns out,” Eddie said. He had his hands in his pockets, his thumbs hanging through the belt loops. His head was quirked to the left a touch as he looked at you through his bangs.

You blinked a few times, trying to compose yourself in front of this cutie. “There’re game stores open this late?”

“No, but I know a guy who works at the one near the mall.” He stepped toe to toe closer to you, “If we go now, I think he should still be there cleaning up.”

You lower your eyes into a squint. 

His impish smirk came back full force on his face, “They also have comics.” 

“Alright, I’m down,” you said, “But I’m driving.”

Eddie began to bounce with excitement and you felt a surge of joy knowing it was you who caused it.

***

The parking lot was expectantly deserted at 11 o’clock at night. The neon sign advertising the game store was the only source of light on the side of the street. You put your car into park and began to unbuckle your seatbelt. 

Thoughts of Michael Meyers and Freddy Kruger filled your mind as you realized how seemingly alone you two were. This was prime time for mugging and you doubted you had the same battle experience as your D&D character. 

Eddie exploded from the passenger seat, oblivious to the dark. 

“We gotta go to the back door,” he said. He took your hand in his and began walking quickly behind the store. You did your best to keep up with his gait and quell your heart from springing out of your chest. 

The singular lightbulb adjacent to the back door was flickering lazily. A few small bugs buzzed around and bonked their heads against it. Eddie used his free hand to knock a secret rhythm. He gave you a quick wink as you both could hear the scuffling of tired feet. 

“Munson,” a man said wearily through the opened crack in the door. His reddened eyes gave you a once over, “And guest.” 

“Charlie, we were wondering if we might be able to have a lil’ looksie at your handbook selection,” Eddie said, flashing a charming smile, “Wizards of the Coast. I’m sure you’re familiar.”

“You know I don’t do nothing for you for free,” the man dubbed Charlie drawled. 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Eddie reassured, “I’ve got you covered.” 

“What about them,” Charlie said, eyeing you again, “They cool?” 

Your eyes widen as both men turn their attention towards you. You’re not stupid. You knew that Eddie delt from time to time. Charlie was clearly a customer. 

“I’m cool,” you replied. 

Charlie huffed and closed the door. The sliding locks were removed and the door yawned wide with the man gesturing you inside. 

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes,” he said as you two passed. 

“You know I appreciate you, man,” Eddie said, clapping Charlie’s hand, sufficiently passing off his merchandise. Skipping ahead, Eddie held open the door to the front of the store for you. 

You made your way to the fold up table in the middle of the room that was stacked with boxes of single-issue comics. You squealed as you started flipping through the issues one by one. 

Beside you, you heard a loud, “YES!” You turned your head and Eddie was triumphantly holding up his prize.

“The Cult of Vecna,” you read from the cover. He gave you the book to read the inscription on the back. “Evil cultists… dark wizard…. hivemind? You think we’re ready for this?”

“After a few sessions, I believe it’s possible,” he grinned dazzlingly at you. 

You couldn’t help but begin to laugh. “Eddie, if I may remind you, we stopped the last session because we couldn’t figure out how to open a door!” 

“Ye of little faith!” he exclaimed, snatching the book back. 

“I’m just being realistic!” You rolled your eyes playfully. 

“Just you wait,” he smirked, “You’ll learn to eat those words.” 

“Does that mean you want me back?” you asked.

Eddie took a pause, reading your face. “I- uh… I kinda assumed that was obvious.” Color rose to his cheeks, “I think you fit in well with the rest of the boys.”

 It was your turn now to begin blushing. The corners of your lips quirked up as you turned your attention back to your pile of comics. “Well, uh… you did make it easy,” you said quietly under your breath, unsure if he heard you.

He did hear you. He sheepishly grinned as he drummed his fingers on the book’s hardback cover. He was relieved, the first time that you spoke to him, that you were different than the rest of the kids that went to Hawkins. Normally people avoided him like the plague or else attempted to make his life a living hell. He tried his best not to let it get to him but, in his darkest hours, he would admit that it got horribly lonely. Even Eddie “The Freak” Munson wasn’t prone to bouts of depression. 

Having you strike up a conversation nearly threw him off his rhythm. It was a gamble with every person who dared defy the social norm by talking to him. He thought he’d done a good job at creating a vibe that was just weird enough for people to leave him alone but he was uncharacteristically surprised when you became interested instead of repulsed. Especially because he thought you were cute. He also thought he seriously lucked out that you had even agreed to join Hellfire in the first place.

And now you were here with him in one of his favorite stores, engrossed in the comics put out before you. He was completely enamored with the way your eyes would spark with excitement when you found a comic you liked. It drove him crazy when your hair would fall into your face and you’d frustratingly brush it aside, only for it to fall again. He constantly felt like he needed to make sure you were having fun at sessions, always glancing at you from behind his folder to gauge your reactions. 

To put it simply, he was smitten. 

Eddie turned to see Charlie in the corner, eyeing them, poking at his wrist, letting them know their time was almost up. He picked up a few comics from your pile and put them on top of his book.

“I’m buying these for you,” he said simply.

You shook your head. “No, really, it’s okay. I still have some leftover lunch money in my pockets.” 

His eyebrow cocked challengingly and gave a tiny shake of his head. “Nope! It’s been decided,” he smirked, “Consider it as a thanks for the ride.”

Your cheeks flared but you grinned back at him, “At least let me buy you a late dinner. There’s a burger place not too far from here that’s open 24/7.” 

He chuckled, “If you insist.”

“I’m not insisting, actually. I can just drive us there whether you want to or not.” You crossed your arms across your own Hellfire branded shirt, “It’s my car, after all.”

“You’re kidnapping me?” he said, gasping scandalously.

“It’s not kidnapping! It’s more ‘driving someone somewhere against their will’.” 

 At this he laughed loudly, causing your heart to twinge in happiness. Eddie slapped a couple of bills onto the counter where Charlie normally rang up. The two of you exited the shop from the front entrance and dumped the merchandise in the back seat of your car. 

You sped down the road with the windows down and the radio blasting. There was a chill that still lingered in the air from the winter months. Your hair flew wildly around your faces as you picked up speed. The moon cast an ethereal glow onto the road ahead. 

You pulled into the drive-thru of the burger joint and ordered two burgers and an extra large fry to share. After getting the food, you decided to park in the remote parking lot, under a street lamp. Eddie cocked his seat back, making himself at home, as the two of you shoveled the greasy food into your mouths. 

“I did not realize I was this hungry,” Eddie mused. 

“I think the last Hostess cake was eaten around 9,” you said between mouthfuls, “And I guarantee you that it was Gareth who ate it.”

He tsked disapprovingly, “Damn Gareth.” 

“Damn Gareth,” you agreed. 

Eddie snuck a glance back in your direction, admiring the soft glow of the street lamp on your skin. You could feel him staring, and nervously swallowed your last bite.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“Why’d you join Hellfire?” he asked.

You thought about it for a second. That’s a very good question, you thought. It wasn’t like you to be joining random clubs just because a cute boy asked you to. 

“I liked your t-shirt,” you replied simply. 

Eddie shook his head, “That can’t be it, can it?” 

You chuckled, “Are you trying to get me to confess something? Because, if that’s the case, you can forget about it.”

Eddie swallowed, “Confess?” His heart had skipped a beat. “What’s there that needs to be confessed?”

“I don’t know,” you challenged, “Why’d you invite me to Hellfire?”

Eddie squinted his eyes and pursed his lips. He leaned his body casually against the passenger side door, taking you in completely. You watched him carefully, your eyes never straying from his face.

“You liked my t-shirt,” he said at last. You scoffed and tossed a french fry at him. He tried his best to catch it in his mouth and missed it completely. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles. “But seriously,” he stated, “There aren’t many people in school who would be seen with Eddie ‘The Freak’. So, what gives?”

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders, “I never believed in those shitty rumors about you.”

Eddie leaned on the console between you two. “Oh no?”

You shook your head. “Most of them were started by the basketball team anyway and their heads are massively inflated. I knew you were a recluse but you weren’t bothering anyone for the most part.” You felt excitedly nervous as his brown eyes watched you intently, hanging on every word. “I don’t know. You seemed harmless.”

He smiled a crooked smile, “Me? Harmless?” 

You watched his lips part and wondered if it was getting hot in the car or if it was just you. “Are you trying to get me to stroke your ego, Munson?” 

He noticed your line of sight and his cheeks began to bloom. “I just like hearing you compliment me, Highness.” 

Your face betrayed you with a small smile. The two of you watched each other’s lips as gravity began to pull you in. Eddie’s lips were soft, almost unsure of himself. It was as if he were dreaming and he didn’t want things to move too fast, lest he wake up. When he was 99% positive he was awake, he deepened the kiss. 

You were overcome by the smell of him. He tasted of old cigarettes and smelled like cologne he probably stole from the mall. You beckoned him into you as you cupped his face with your hands. His hand wrapped around your head, his fingers and rings tangling into your hair. His body leaned forward over the console, pushing yours against the driver’s side door. Your lips parted and he stuck his tongue into your mouth, letting out a soft moan. 

Your spine shivered with energy as he leaned further into you, his hand now finding its way to your chest. He traveled from your jawline down to your neck, where he began nibbling on you. A shudder escaped you as his tongue traced circles against your new hickie. 

“Go to the backseat,” you urged. Without another word, he slipped over the console onto his back, shoving the books off the cushions. You followed him over, straddling him. 

“Y/N,” he moaned as your lips reconnected. You began to grind on him, feeling his excitement poke through his jeans. His hands found their way under your shirt, where he began to grasp and fondle you. You returned the favor and started marking him along his neck. Your fingers also toyed with the edge of his shirt, skirting it up to expose his torso. 

He sat up with you and pulled his shirt away, revealing more poorly done stick’n’poke tattoos. Both of your breathing became heavy as you crashed together. Your head knocked against the glass but you were too busy to care. He began to fondle you against your pants and you could feel yourself becoming wet with desire.

“I want you,” he mumbled into your skin. You were practically a puddle in his hands. 

A loud rapping startled the two of you and a flashlight beam broke through the window. A patrol officer shined the light on the both of your faces with a disapproving scowl. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” The officer asked when the window rolled down.

Eddie sighed begrudgingly, not looking the intruder in the face. “No, officer. We were just leaving.”

The officer clucked his tongue, “Yeah. Sure you were, Munson.” He turned the blinding beam on you, “Get going. I’m sure your parents are expecting you.” 

You gave a curt nod, shifting up in the seat, red with embarrassment. “Yessir.” 

“You could do a lot better, y’know,” the officer finished, walking back to his patrol car. You glared daggers in his direction. Eddie flipped him off.

“Fucking asshole,” you grumbled under your breath. You climbed over the console again and into the driver’s seat. When you both were situated, you cranked the gears and gunned it in the opposite direction.

***

The car came to a crunching halt on the gravel outside Eddie’s trailer. The two of you had sat in awkward silence the entirety of the trip. 

“Please don’t take what that pig said to heart,” you said carefully.

“It’s fine. I get it all the time.” Eddie gave you a reassuring smile.

“That doesn’t make it any less okay,” you interjected, “You’re a good person.” 

Eddie pursed his lips again and averted his gaze to his hands on his lap. After a pregnant beat he spoke. “Would you like to come inside for some coffee?”

You glanced at the clock on your dashboard. 12:45 a.m. Your parents were probably wondering where you ran off to. 

Fuck it.

“Absolutely,” you said. 

 The trailer was exactly what you expected to look like on the inside. It was dark, even with the lights turned on. The constant drone of the generator outside provided ambiance. Eddie shrugged out of his jacket and looked around sheepishly. 

��I swear we clean… sometimes,” he grinned, embarrassed. You didn’t care in the least. You could tell his demeanor had changed. He was self-conscious, now that you were standing in his living room. It was a complete contrast from the confident swagger he exuded in school. However, you couldn’t tell if it was from the officer encounter or if he was becoming shy due to what happened between you in the backseat of your car.

Eddie rinsed out the stained coffee pot next to the sink and threw away the old grounds. He became extremely aware of your presence in his home. It was exhilarating having you near him, among familiar territory. He didn’t bring just anyone over. 

After starting a new pot, he turned to you, “W-Would you like to see my guitar?” 

“I’m offended you even have to ask,” you replied, hoping to break up the tension. His familiar crooked smile spread on his face once again as he took your hand in his. He beckoned you into his room in the back of the trailer. A stunning electric guitar hung on the wall adjacent to the bed. He dismounted it and strung it around his shoulders. You couldn’t suppress a giggle. He looked so hot. 

He took a seat on his bed and gestured for you to join him. “Now, don’t judge me. I’m still learning this song,” he started. You blinked cutely and propped your head up on your fists. He grinned, shook his head and began to strum. 

The music came out fast and lively. It stank of hardcore metal, which your DM was infamously fond of. He bobbed his head to the beat as his fingers started to shred. You watched those fingers, mesmerized, and crudely wondered what they’d feel like inside you.

He stopped suddenly, “That’s about as much as I can do so far.” 

“Metallica, right?” you said.

He started to golf clap. “Very good! Someone has been doing their homework!” 

“It’s only one of the few bands you constantly gush about 24/7,” you giggled, crossing your legs. 

“So you were listening!” He brought his hands to his heart in admiration, “Sometimes I wondered whether anyone was.”

“It’s hard to ignore when you do. Your face gets all jumpy.”

He barked out a laugh, “Jumpy?” 

“I don’t know how to describe it! You just twitch! I don’t know,” you laughed with him. “It’s cute.”

Eddie hid his face behind a chunk of his hair, “You think I’m cute?” He was as red as the demon on his shirt. 

You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. It only ended up falling in your face again. “I kinda assumed that was obvious.” 

Eddie reached across the way and brushed your hair aside. Your skin tingled where he touched you. His hand lingered by your ear.

“I would really like to kiss you again,” he murmured. 

“What’s stopping you?” you asked breathlessly. 

He shook his head as he shrugged his guitar off his body. His hands grasped the sides of your face as he pulled you into him. Your lips molded together as if they’d never been apart. He brushed more hair out of your face and began to kiss you all over. Your hands found their way to the hem of the Hellfire shirt once more and yanked it off of him. 

He began to climb on top of you, gently guiding you down onto his mattress. You started to work on your own clothing as his hand skimmed your hot skin. You couldn’t get naked fast enough. 

With you now shirtless, Eddie worked his way down your neck and past your collar bones, leaving in its wake, a trail of wet kisses. He grappled onto one of your nipples, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat. You took this moment to wrap your legs around his torso, slamming his pelvis into yours. He was throbbing. 

You palmed him through his jeans. “Get them off me,” he hissed. You unbuckled his belt and pulled down his boxers along with his pants. He kicked them off and you could finally see what he was packing. 

It was thick like a can of soda. 

“Fuck me!” you said incredulously.

“With pleasure,” he growled. His hand reached into your pants and he began to rub you. You let out a sharp gasp as your body erupted with pleasure. You helped to undo your own pants and they were carelessly tossed to the floor. 

Eddie’s hand grabbed your waist, squeezing tightly. He rubbed you harder and faster now. Your back began to arch as your mouth opened in a silent scream. Your legs were becoming numb.

“You’re so cute,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking cute!” He slipped his fingers inside, earning a yelp. He pumped and twiddled inside you. Now you knew what it felt like to be his guitar.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, “I-I can’t! I’m gonna-!” A shudder rocked through your whole body, leaving you both wet and sticky. You collapsed onto the mattress, sufficiently sweaty and panting. Eddie brought his fingers to his lips and tasted you. 

Your head was spinning. Where the hell did he learn to do that?!

“Is it your turn now?” you panted. 

Eddie bit down on his lip, “You want to?” 

You looked down at his still throbbing cock and nodded vigorously. “Consider it pay back for dinner,” you grinned slyly. 

Eddie threw his head back and groaned. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

He frantically reached for a rubber inside his night stand and tore the wrapper open with his teeth. You reached up and kissed him hungrily, stroking him as well. He bit at your lips as he rolled the condom down his shaft. He positioned himself between your legs and stared deeply into your eyes. You nodded once more and you could feel the tip begin to enter. You hissed as he plunged further into you. 

Eddie pumped slowly, reading your reaction. Your legs clamped around his waist tightly and your fingers began to dig into his back. Attaching his lips once again to your neck, he gradually picked up speed. The mattress box creaked with every thrust, making noisy music with the generator outside. 

Eddie grasped your ass in both his hands. The only noises he made were those of shuddering gasps and occasional whines. Your toes curled as you felt every last inch of him slam into you. You couldn’t think, you could hardly breathe. Even if you could manage a cohesive thought, you never would’ve imagined your night ending with you being plowed by your DM. 

Likewise, Eddie would’ve never guessed he would be burying his dick inside you just a few short hours after your D&D session. He’d need to remind himself to buy a lottery ticket before his luck ran out. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck! Y/N!!” You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he came inside you. At last, you two crumpled on top of each other, panting like you both ran multiple marathons at once. Once he regained himself, Eddie propped himself up on his elbows. His long hair skirted across your sweaty face. His eyes searched yours as you both erupted into laughter. “Are you alright?” 

You nodded contented, smiling large, “I’m good! Are you?” 

“Better than I’ve felt in a while,” he responded. He placed a sweet peck on your forehead. “You still want some coffee?” 

You returned the kiss, “It’d be a waste to refuse otherwise.”

[blackdogclan]

about us

I'm suriel, she/her. I lost my husband and best friend in 2021, and re-creating a life from the ashes of our love has been rough, but our puppos are helping. they're sweet and loving and playful and funny and annoying and fun and have been unbelievably helpful in my ongoing journey out of the deep, dark pit of depression and grief I fell into when I lost my sweetie.

recently I was able to get our back yard finished & the dogs fucking love it. if it wasn't for the fact that we're in the desert & it gets deadly hot outside they'd be out there playing 24/7.

I have no purpose in sharing pics and videos other than sharing the joy they bring me =)

Tsoei, pronounced Zoey. chiweenie cosplaying as a Manchester Terrier. rescue from the streets of Tucson. she's my Head of Security. she loves you and would love for you to rub her belly until the end of time.

Wolfgang the chiweenie, cosplaying as a mortadella with legs, was found trying to build a nest in the front yard of a friend on the west side of the Phoenix valley. my sweetie was His Person & he's still grieving. we're working on some behavioral issues.

Thor the chihuahua/yorkie mix belonged to a member of a discord I mod, whose roommate was trying to kill him wtf. he's an inscrutable, happy, weird little goblin who keeps a hoard of trinkets & toys under the couch, and loves to watch moving shadows and reflections. my sweetie called him "joy on a stick" and it's so true. he is my unofficial Nostril Cleaner.

prior puppers:

Fenris, black lab/border collie mix. 2008-2018. our first dog, 120lbs of doofus and love and slobber. the bestest best good dog. Tsoei and Wolfgang worshipped him. fuck cancer.

Freya, German shepherd mix. 2010-2015. rescue from our local animal control. solar dog, my soul dog. her smile was balm. not black but that's ok. people who poison dogs will be tortured for eternity if I get my way.

[izusun]

*hands you an AU dump to hoard like a little goblin handing a small coin to a dragon*

OKAY so basically: after the doctor's visit where Izuku learns he's quirkless (I hc that they went when he was about five n' a half), Inko does a little bit of research on quirks and more specifically on her son's notebooks, learns that he's even more brilliant at quirk analysis than she originally suspected, and (after looking at some not great quirkless statistics) she instead informs Izuku that no, he's had a quirk all along! It's an analysis quirk!

So she updates the quirk registry, and Izuku goes through his life believing he has an analysis quirk, albeit teased for being a late bloomer, but he still can't shake the insecurity being quirkless for that one and a half year gave him.

He does research on all sorts of things, hacking, knife throwing, first aid, and building his own support gear and takes to all of it like a duck to water. He also does research on UA's policy for support gear in the entrance exam (cause surely they've gotta have a policy for non-offensive quirks like Koda and Hagakure) and finds that he can take one with him if he builds it himself. He goes fuckin bonkers.

Anyways: he trains with Katsuki, cause they're relationship is pretty good since Izuku has a 'quirk.' They both demolish the entrance exam. (Also Izuku kinda swears a lot because Katsuki rubs off on him)

Aizawa doesn't notice a goddamn thing is amiss until the battle trials on the second day (he decides to shadow All Might that day), where when he was using his quirk to silence his students while Izuku was rambling, he just didn't stop, as if he didn't notice anything was wrong. It happens again during the USJ.

So at some point during the sports festival, Nedzu (who is now intrigued because of Aizawa's complaining) invites Izuku into his office during a free period and lets him go ham on analysis, all while Aizawa is secretly there erasing Izuku's 'quirk.' Nedzu invites Izuku to be his personal student (making Aizawa go grey), he says yes, and then Nedzu drops the absolute BOMBSHELL that Izuku is actually quirkless. Cue an existential crisis.

(Also Izuku gets captured at the training camp alongside Katsuki because of his "analysis quirk," wonder how well that goes for him~)

- Goblin anon (sorry this one was kinda long)

GOBLIN?? DUDE???? HOLY SHIT I KNEW YOUR AUS ARE ALWAYS PHENOMENAL BUT THIS RIGHT HERE??? D U D E

i misunderstood the prompt a bit but i genuinely don’t know how to backtrack, so here you go goblin. sorry again o(TヘTo)

ok first of, inko taking on a stronger stance to support her son? love that of her. like, she doesn’t say sorry when izuku turned to look at her and cried that he can’t be like all might. instead, she took him in her arms and assures him that he will be a great hero. at first, of course half of it is lip service because she doesn’t know how to help her quirkless boy be a hero, since, you know, heroes need quirks.. (or do they)

and then she comes across a quirkless self help group which rang many many warning bells in her head. what kind of life do quirkless people live when a google research of them resulted in subsequent pages of results like how to stay safe when quirkless, or how to find jobs when quirkless, or quirkless mortality rates?

she fears for izuku, until she notices that her son’s smart. too smart for his age, but inko thought she’s just being biased. but izuku’s wit is something many people notice, for an instance, when izuku goes to the park to play and his friends’ (the few ones who stayed) parents tell her that her son’s smart for a quirkless person, she realizes that izuku’s wit is far more vast than normal.

then a thought worms into her head but wouldn’t it be bad to lie…but also, no one would be any the wiser.

further pushed by all the statistics she keeps seeing, or the lack thereof, about quirkless people, she makes the decision and pours it to izuku.

izuku who’s far smarter than his age and understood what his mom is asking from him. izuku who already saw the disparities between quirked and quirkless people at the tender age of five. izuku who knows what it means to lie about something as personal as a quirk, but realizes that it’s necessary for him to do so if he wants to live a “normal” life.

so he agrees; he tells inko that he’ll work even harder to sharpen his mind, and to keep expanding his knowledge.

when izuku’s quirk file is officially updated, he watches how his peers and teachers revert back into treating him as izuku. he regains his old friends, but he chose to drop them because he doesn’t want to surround himself with people who thought he was less for being quirkless.

katsuki stayed, surprisingly. katsuki stayed and everyday he kept bothering izuku to “get your quirk already!” katsuki stayed because he can’t fathom that the smartest boy in their class (of course not as smart as him, psshh) is quirkless. deku couldn’t be quirkless. (but if he found out that izuku, indeed, is, i wonder what would happen…)

katsuki was one of the loudest to celebrate when izuku announced that his quirk arrived.

“finally!” he screams and bothers izuku about the semantics of his quirk. he really wasn’t surprised to find out that izuku has an analysis quirk because he thought that nothing else would better be suited for izuku.

he doesn’t know that izuku pours so much of his time into learning and studying, often bypassing basics and intros to take more of the developed courses that are usually recommended for older ages. he doesn’t know that izuku is just a naturally smart kid with the ability to fill the gaps of his young mind with knowledge upon knowledge, storing and stacking them until he feels that he’s laid a sturdy foundation for his fake quirk.

then izuku began threading into different areas. he learns how to get into cyberspaces; hacking into accounts and delving more into how to access private information. he doesn’t thread too close lest he gets caught, but he learns the logistics of maneuvering around the web and burrowing in empty spaces to branch out his own. he creates and designs web algorithms for himself, just so he doesn’t trigger anyone who is looking into the web movements. he hones this and uses it to access more information.

then when he deems it enough, he turns his attention to something more tangible and something more physical. he learns other ways to be a hero; how to fight without a physical quirk, how to win against bigger opponents, how to use analysis quirk in fights.

izuku becomes more than a fake analysis quirk user; he creates it.

mental quirks are hard to describe, more so to compress, thus he creates new definitions of an analysis quirk. what used to be a silly lie is now a tangible fact that izuku believes in. because what makes a quirk? because what makes analysis a quirk? he learns these semantics (often political) and uses it to his advantage.

then he finally threads to hero analysis. at first it were classmates he analyzed; eyes running quickly at their forms and watching with great interest before calculating everything he’s seen and transversing it with the things he learned, and bridges these two facts together to create an analysis. it was a struggle at first: he didn’t know which to put emphasis on until he realizes, he doesn’t need to. he weaves them together and lets his analysis run long and watches how his hobby comes into fruition.

following his classmates are current heroes. these were more tough and more fun, and any of the information is less shared. he doesn’t tell his classmates or teachers about his analyses, only katsuki. and katsuki’s breath hitch every damn time at izuku’s talent quirk.

it is in their second year of middle school that midoriya begins to incorporate the facts with himself to create physical performances. the issues and things he learned through observing are now practiced by himself. he calculates the best way to fight with a body as petite as his, often taking examples from pro-hero hawks and other women heroes. their agilities and physicality suit izuku’s young body; he doesn’t see the merit in punching his way through things when he physically cannot.

so he learns ways to ease his muscles. he learns ballet and gymnastics; lets his muscles contort and mend themselves anew. he finds his balance and roots himself firmly, and learns to calculate his actions so he doesn’t waste his energy. katsuki doesn’t say anything, but he sees izuku’s dance and falls in love.

then in the spring of their third year of middle school, izuku learns how to build and handle weapons.

this is the easiest. izuku learns that weapons aren’t tools, but extensions of his arms and hands. they are not to be revered and not to be depended on because they can fail. instead, he learns to wield weapons as though they are parts of his bodies. he learns how to use swords and often narrowing to wooden sticks that can be picked up anywhere; he learns how to fire guns and how to hide daggers in his uniform. he learns that his body is the best weapon to use and that tools are just arsenal to help him win.

then he learns how to build them.

by summer, izuku begins reaching into UA’s servers. they are hard codes to crack, but not impossible. it takes him five days to access old entrance exam videos. the next day, the videos are snuffed and he is left to try digging deeper into UA.

he fails.

nezu must have caught onto his codes and proceeded to build walls against it.

so he slithers out. but a five minute video of last year’s entrance exam is enough for izuku because he learns two things: one, heroes must defeat villains and two, heroes must save others.

izuku prepares for this. unknowingly, katsuki is taught these same principles. katsuki would grumble and tell him that he knows what heroes must do, but izuku continues to hammer it down to him.

by the time of the UA entrance exam, izuku falls into the ease of having a fake quirk. he passes the written exam with flying colours and although it took three teachers to approve his support gears (present mic had to pull in powerloader, midnight, and hound dog to ensure that the well designed support gears are made by the hero student examinee and not by a support student examinee. majima saw the works and begged nezu to allow izuku to be his student.), izuku still succeeds and dominates the entrance exam.

when the zero pointer was released, he had flung himself towards the girl crushed by debris and yanks her out. he doesn’t waste a modified grenade to explode the zero pointer because through his calculations, doing so would not only create more collateral damage, but would also endanger the examinee in his arms because she still would be caught in the crossfire.

nezu hums in appreciation from the screening room, after all, smart minds always do think alike.

izuku gets a whopping 92 in the physical aspects of the entrance exam.

katsuki gets 85.

aizawa gleefully takes them in.

izuku thinks that no one will ever know of his and inko’s secret, but one look at nezu’s beady eyes and he knew that the stoat knew. it became a game to them, then. a game to see who else would realize.

and while izuku is smart, he doesn’t realize that nezu has basically taken him as his personal student the moment he and izuku had created a bet.

it takes two months for aizawa to figure things out. surprisingly, he is the only one to do so and he only realizes due to the many untimely attacks of LoV.

——

how angst would it be if katsuki realizes that izuku’s always been quirkless during their captivity in the LoV’s hideout.

[shadowcutie]

Here’s some resources to help you make text-based interactive fiction games!

Totally unprompted!  There’s certainly nothing going on in a certain forum right now (or rather an on-going issue).  Nope, I just thought it would be nice to share some resources.  ;)

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Twine

Twine is such an easy tool to use.  It uses its own scripting language Sugarcube (there’s also Harlowe and Snowman, but they don’t have the same functionality and creator support as Sugarcube does to my knowledge), Javascript, and CSS.

Twine is FREE!!!

Sugarcube literally gives you a save function (which does browser and save to desktop)!!!  Be the save-hoarding goblin you were born to be!

It’s criminally easy to make games with Twine.  They make it easy to make stats, relationships, and other info pages.  When setting up the paths you can literally see arrows pointing where they lead, you can move passages around visually so you can group them up by chapter/scene/etc......to be fair once your game gets BIG it can get messy and confusing.

I have coding experience prior to finding Twine, but I’m absolutely certain anyone can make great games with Twine.  If all your doing is making text-based ‘more story than game’ games, then you’ll be doing minimal coding (setting variables, if/else statements, using text boxes, etc) so you shouldn’t have any issues.

If you do have issues I’m 99% certain someone has had your issue before, and the answer is one google search away.

You can use Twine in your browser, just be careful to not mess with the data/cookies or you can lose your games (totally not speaking from experience)....archive your games often if you use Twine in browser.  You can also download Twine, so you can use it offline!

Links:

Twine

SugarCube v2 Documentation - Your new best friend.

With the Settings API you can add a mature filter, different style themes (great for light/dark themes and color blind themes...or just different themes to look cool), difficulty settings, volume control, etc.

HiEv’s SugarCube 2 Sample Code - An ever-expanding collection of code, tips, macros, widgets.  A good mix of fun and useful stuff.

^ Includes a great pronoun widget!!!  To be fair it’s not the most user-friendly widget at first, especially if you aren’t a coder, but in the long run a widget like this is a great tool for customizing pronouns.  It allows you to write a character in the code with one set of pronouns throughout the game ($They $are a great $person), the widget selects the correct word through an switch (aka a fancy if/else) statement when the character is assigned a pronoun......so when playing a female it would display as “She is a great girl”, a male would be “He is a great guy”, and nonbinary would be “They are a great person”.  You can add neopronouns this way too!

Chapel’s custom macros - Chapel has a lot of cool macros, but a lot of them are more advanced.  Very few have been useful for the kinds of games I want to make, but they may be useful for you.

r/twinegames - Twine has some older forums, which are still up (though not active) and have helpful answers on them, but the current forum is found on reddit.

w3schools - When it’s time to style your game, this will be your lifeline.  Even today, like...seven years after first learning CSS I still come back to w3schools all the time. !!!Twine has funky class/id selectors for it’s built in stuff so refer back to the SugarCube Documentation!!!

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Itch.io

Itch doesn’t take ownership of your content!

It doesn’t have DRM!

You can host your games for free, paid, or free with donation.

It does take a cut of your sales “The Company shall be entitled to a share of the revenue Publishers receive from Transactions which shall be calculated on the gross revenue from the Transactions“ (I’ve seen 30% but I’ve also seen “Lets you choose what to give them” so I’m not exactly sure how much their cut is).

THERE IS NO RESTRICTION ON CONTENT ASSUMING IT’S LEGAL (though if collecting payment you may be under different restrictions per the payment provider’s policy), so please make all the twisted, dark, disturbing, and/or sexual games you want!!!

Links:

Itch.io

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r/interactivefictions

r/interactivefictions is a good place for game recs, coding/writing resources, etc.

Links:

r/interactivefictions

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Tumblr

Tumblr is...well we’re all on here so we know how tumblr is like.

Great tags to look at: #interactive fiction, #interactive novel, #interactive game, #twine game, #dev log, #IF, #if game, #upcoming game, #promo post

Tumblr is a great platform, but as every creator knows...Reblog!!!  Reblog!!! Reblog!!!  The lifeblood of tumblr is reblogging.

I’ve found SOOOO many games I would never have known existed through if-creator’s blogs just because they reblogged a post from another if-creator.

@interact-if and @iorifd​ are doing great work!  They collect games, share helpful coding/writing tips, etc.  Go show them some love!  Interact-if runs the subreddit mentioned above, and iorifd is working on a database for visual novels and text-based games.

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IFDB (Interactive Fiction Database)

IFDB is a database for interactive fiction games.  You can add new game listings, write reviews, make game polls, make game recommendation lists, etc.

IFDB seems to like their parser games (parsers being where you type in commands like “go west”, “open door”, etc).

It actually has a pretty good filter and ignore system.

Links:

IFDB

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Obviously this isn’t the end all be all of dev tools or hosting platforms for interactive fiction.  Ink is a scripting tool similar to Twine I’ve only heard of recently that might be interesting to you.  Ren’Py, although primarily a visual novel engine, can be used to make text-based games.  The only other hosting alternative I know is DashingDon, I THINK they only host ChoiceScript games and I don’t think you can sell through them, but it’s a good place regardless.

Cheers! :D

[the-kazoo-kid]

The Two Types of Goblincore

I’ll begin by saying that I’m a Jewish archaeologist, and one of my main areas of study is the pogroms of Eastern Europe during the beginning of the 20th century. This affects the way I think of goblincore in two major ways:

Goblins were used as a negative caricature of Jews to tother them and incite negative feelings and violence among non-news

I have been accused of only wanting to be an archaeologist so that I can dig up and hoard shiny things

I spend a lot of my time looking at images like this one. It’s an antisemetic political cartoon from 1898. 

Look at the crown, the long, hooked nose, and most importantly the clawed, webbed hands. His hands envelope the world, symbolizing the perceived universal greed of the Jew.

This stereotype of the greedy Jew didn’t originate in the 19th century either. It goes all the way back to the Middle Ages when Jews in Europe were banned from occupations other than banking. 

So now let’s talk about goblins in popular culture. First and foremost in my mind are J.K Rowling’s goblins who are portrayed as greedy, hoarding and-- you guessed it-- in charge of the money and treasure.

There are even physical similarities between J.K. Rowling’s goblins and the political cartoon above. Note the hooked nose and the hands. 

I was about eight when I read the first Harry Potter book. I remember bringing it to a synagogue event where one of the adults remarked about how uncomfortable the goblins made them. Before I was allowed to watch the movie my mother sat me down and explained what was problematic with those goblins and why.

Next up: LOTR

He has the crown and the hands, although not the nose, and while he bares less direct resemblance to that cartoon, this is still an example of antisemitism. This is a placeholder character for a Jew that is disgusting, hoarding wealth, and a direct antagonist to the main characters. 

Everquest 2:

(I found another image where this character was specifically labeled The Goblin Banker but tumblr wouldn’t allow me to upload it for whatever reason.) This goblin is so other that it’s not even recognizable as a person, and in fact in the game they’re classed as a Mob Race. Yikes. Additionally, Wikipedia describes them as “attempting to - unsuccessfully - forge gold coins, and yet they have no intention spending any of this money, they simply wish to 'have' it.” This goes along with a lot of the greed aspect of goblins and their obsession with hoarding.

So what do we do?

First, I want to say that just because these pieces of media (or any others) have these problematic aspects doesn’t mean that you have to stop consuming and enjoying them. If we never read books or watched movies or played games that were problematic we would back ourselves into a corner where nothing was permitted.

The important thing is to educate yourself to the point where you can recognize the negative caricature/stereotype in something that you come across, and to not create any new media containing the stereotype. 

But what if you really like goblins?

The good news is that this is the first, older kind of goblincore, but it’s not the only one out there. There’s a new wave happening that emphasizes the positive things without including the negative ones. These next examples are technically called trolls in their respective universes, but they really get the vibe that I’m going for.

Boxtrolls:

See? Shiny treasure thing, delight, and no malice. Admittedly the trolls in this movie are some funny looking creatures, but they don’t come across as perpetuating the negative Jewish stereotype to me.

Frozen:

Cute little guys made of stone and moss. They live peacefully, and when they encounter the protagonists they have a nice musical number and then dispense some wise advice. No greed, no bad intentions. Good for them.

(Again, these examples are both technically trolls but I think the idea comes through, especially since they’re so far from the large, lumbering brutes that are trolls in say... Harry Potter or LOTR.)

Now I’m going to hand this conversation over to @goblinblogging who is a Jew working on reclaiming and reworking the idea of what a goblin is and what a goblin does.

-Reid

Now, I know learning that something you’re doing could be problematic is scary! I also know that a ton of people have abandoned goblincore just because they learned of these stereotypes. 

However, you don’t have to abandon something you love! What you need to do is educate yourself and learn about why these things are harmful and learn what you can do to make sure you aren’t doing something harmful yourself! 

Let's start off with how this stereotype came around (Or at least, one way it originated.) In the book Knockers, Knackers, and Ghosts: Immigrant Folklore in the Western Mines, the author goes into detail about how European origins say the goblins of the mines were the ghosts of dead Jews, sentenced (in properly medieval anti-Jewish fashion) to perpetual restlessness for their supposed role in the crucifixion of Jesus. Which is where the “Goblins live in caves and mines” came from! 

So this explains that the ghosts of Jews became goblins because they were being punished for killing jesus. Already a pretty rough start! Now for common goblin appearances that are nothing but antisemitism in disguise. First, and most obvious, large, hooked, warted noses. I don’t really feel like I have to go into much detail about this one. Anyone who took history class in middle and high school should know about Hitler’s propaganda against jews and the depictions of their bulbous noses, often covered in warts. This caricature directly translates over to goblins having their predominant warted noses. Second, Let’s have a look at green skin. Hitler in particular loved to depict jews with green skin, or at the very least, in very green light so it turned their skin green. 

Image source

Notice the green tint, the evil sneer, hooked nose, and pointed ears in this one! All very reminiscent of traits we commonly see in goblins. 

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 This last one is a movie poster “Suss the Jew” produced by Terra Film at the behest of propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels, and considered one of the most antisemitic films of all time. Notice the green skin! 

 Next is horns and teeth. Hitler in particular would depict jews with devil’s horns hidden under their Kippah (also referred to in Yiddish as a yarmulke, or less frequently as a koppel.) He’d also just depict them outright as demons. 

Image source

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This one is Ukranian. Translated means “Satan has taken off his mask” Notice how “satan” has huge teeth and horns, red skin, with the star of David carved into his forehead. Also notice how his jewish mask has a large nose.

Image source

This one is from Russia (1919), a caricature of Leon Trotsky, who was viewed as a symbol of Jewish Bolshevism. Notice the red skin and pointed ears. Also notice how he’s sitting above the people down below (who are sitting on skeletons and bones) symbolizing the Jew’s greed, which we’ll get into later.

And then there’s this one, where you can see (white) people inside of the Jew’s mouth, you can also see horrendously sharp teeth crushing them. Also pay attention to the large nose and pointed ears. I just remembered that I forgot to cover another very important anti-jewish facial feature, which is that many jews in propaganda have dark beady eyes and drooping eyelids. These are things you can see for yourself in the images above!

Next, we’re moving on to greed. This one in particular hits me close to home. I’ve heard the phrase “Jewing me out of my money” too many times to count. Or alternately, “Don’t be a Jew” when the other person doesn’t think that I’m giving them enough of what they want. (Could be money, could even be sweets. The first time I heard this phrase I was a little kid and I had a bag of skittles. I wanted to share with everyone but I still wanted to have enough for me to eat myself. I was passing out handfuls when my friend’s older brother (he was a teen) didn’t like how much I gave him. He said to me, “Come on, don’t be a Jew, give me some more skittles”. I didn’t understand and when I asked my mom what it meant later she was horrified.) Jews, and their caricatures, have almost always been viewed as greedy and power hungry. As @whalefromwales said above me, Jews in Europe used to be banned from any job besides banking. 

We also have images like this from WWII: 

Image source

Anyone who has taken any class where the Holocaust was talked about should be able to recognize this image, The Eternal Jew. He has money in one hand, which is reached out to demand more - he’s also looking at the money, and a whip in his other hand. In his arm, he holds the whole country of Germany.

Image source

There is also this one. A jew, tinged with red, weighs a man’s life against a large pile of money. Notice also how he’s looking at the money - not the man. 

And this one should also be easy to recognize. It reads “The Jews - A People of Contagion!” A city burns in the background as a jewish man sits atop a pile of bones counting his money. Notice the bulbous, hooked, nose, black eyes with drooping eyelids, and large hands! Hitler depicted jews this way (and as goblins) in order to segregate us. “Us VS Them”. “We are the Good Human Beings and Jews are monsters!” in order to make it easy for him to begin committing the atrocities that he did! It never happened overnight, there were key stepping stones that built up to concentration camps. One of those was “Jews aren’t really people, so it’s okay that we’re doing this to them. We’re doing it to save us, the Good Christian Germans.”  

So what does all of this mean? Well, first and foremost, it means that you have to be careful how you depict your goblins. How? When drawing your goblinsonas or goblin ocs, stay away from drawing them with huge, hooked, and warted noses, don’t make their skin green or red (personally, I prefer grey skin for goblins.) If your goblin has sharp teeth, don’t make them huge and obvious. Because modern goblins are fair folk, it’s difficult to depict them without pointed ears, but try not to exaggerate the proportions.  

Behavior: Stop with the “greedy little goblin” thing. That DIRECTLY comes from jewish stereotypes. Your Goblins are allowed to collect shiny things they find, but don’t make them greedy about it! Have your goblin share what they collect, make it a community effort. Sharing the things you love is way better than being miserly anyhow, and sharing more represents what we as goblins should want in our community! Also, be careful with your goblins being terrors. Yes, there are usually evil beings in every single race (whether mythological or real) but just be really really careful. Hitler loved to depict jews eating the Good Germans(™) or terrorizing communities. So even if your goblin is an evil one, be really really careful and be sure to educate yourself first so you’re not just perpetuating the same tired shit that Hitler did.Collecting coins. 

Now, this has been a huge topic of discourse lately. Coins are shiney! I understand why people would want to collect them. Hell, I have some awesome 50 cent pieces and gold dollars in my collection. You just can't depict  yourself or your goblin character collecting only coins and being very greedy with them. That’s literally doing nothing but echoing the same propaganda that Hitler used against us. Collect them all you want, but if I see “Greedy little goblin hoarding coins all for themselves” I swear I’m gonna hit the fan. To clarify, you can absolutely show off you coin collection in the goblin tags, just be careful how you frame it. “I’m really interested in history, so I collect old coins because I think they’re neat” is waaaaaay different then “Horrible littel crecher is greedy for shiney monies” (That last quote is something I’ve SEEN in the tags, luckily op was just completely unaware of why that was so wrong and they removed the caption after they were educated.) 

 So please, enjoy being into goblincore. Enjoy the culture and the fantasy. Goblincore is about appreciating the things about us that may be depicted as “weird” or “ugly”. Goblincore is a safe haven for neurodivergent people (I’m Autistic!) and also Trans and other LGBTQIA+ people! It’s a culture for appreciating nature, collecting things that may not be seen as normal, and sharing these things with other people. It’s a culture where you shouldn’t be ashamed to be who you are or afraid to get dirty. Goblincore is a support network for the weirder folks where we strive to uplift one another. Goblincore is wonderful and I’ve been so impressed at how welcoming everyone is! Especially on tumblr! Before the discourse happened, I was sure that goblincore was one of the kindest communities on tumblr. However, I understand why the discourse happened, and goyim in the goblincore tag really did need to be educated, but that doesn’t mean you have to leave! So be sure to educate yourself and be aware of how your actions could negatively affect folks. Listen to other Jewish people and be mindful of what they say. Some Jews are very uncomfortable with goblincore, and for very good reason! And I do not claim to speak for all Jews with this post. 

I am trying to reclaim the word goblin for use by any person who wants the label. I no longer want these fantasy creatures associated with such a beautiful and vibrant culture of people. Goblins are very interesting as a fantasy race, but the negative stereotypes do nothing but hurt real life Jewish people. Which is why I’m hoping that folks will read this post and realize what behaviors and depictions of goblins are wrong and harmful. Also, tag your goblincore appropriately! Again, many Jewish people are uncomfortable with goblincore because of antisemitism that has happened in their past. I’ve been compared to a goblin many times! So keep your goblincore in just the goblincore tags. There are many overlaps between goblincore and other micro communities on tumblr (Such as crowcore, cottagecore, naturecore, and vulture culture) but be mindful of what you’re putting in those tags. Most vulture culture people hate us goblins cuz we put pictures of dirt or “I’m just a smol crecher” in their tags, and I don’t blame them! Vulture culture is only for the remains of dead animals, and dead animal remains should be the only things added to those tags. So fellow goblins, I’m going to end this post with a sincere thank you for reading, be mindful of your actions, and most of all, HAVE FUN with goblincore! 

Here is where you should be able to read Knockers, Knackers, and Ghosts for free if you want.

TLDR: This is what we, as Jewish people, mean when we say that goblins are based off of negative stereotypes of jews. This is also why some jews get really upset at goblincore, however, there are many ways to participate in goblincore without using harmful stereotypes! So please, use this post to educate yourself so you can both be good goblins and good Jewish allies.

- @goblinblogging

[somanyjacks]

Good Day meme

I was tagged by @dafan7711 for this - thank you!! I’ll tag @wangxianbunnydoodles @dancinggrimm @emotionalmorphine @vassraptor​ aaaaand @goblin-gardens.

Have you had a good day so far today? Not bad! I mean, I only just got up? But I tidied the kitchen/living area last night so making breakfast was nice because everything was clean. And breakfast is tasty, the birds outside are singing, and it’s going to be a warm and lovely day!

What’s something you wish you could tell your younger self? I would tell myself that I’m on the autism spectrum and that I am transgender. I would not have been able to get any help or support for either of those things as a child, but at least I would have known why everything was so difficult and why I felt like a changeling. Maybe I would have been less hard on myself for struggling so much.

If you could share one song with someone for them to understand you, what would it be? Oooooh, hmmm. This is really hard. Just one song, huh. I will go with Into White, by Cat Stevens. If you had to compress my interior landscape into a song, that one fits it the best.

A song people maybe wouldn’t expect you to like but you do? This is hard too! I’m a musician, and I’m friends with a lot of musicians, so we all have pretty broad tastes. But I think people are surprised that I do like some older country music. Specifically, I love You Never Even Call Me By My Name (aka The Perfect Country Western Song) by David Allen Coe. You guys, I love this song with all my heart. It is fucking hilarious and perfect.

Do you have a picture/poster in your room? I have a painting hanging up! It’s an original by Christopher Baldwin, the cartoonist who did Spacetrawler, Bruno, Little Dee, and One Way. Through a very odd set of circumstances, he ended up renting a room in my house for about 6 months a while back. He painted this while he lived there, and I was just so in love with it! I ended up buying it from him even though I couldn’t really afford it, because I needed to keep it in my life.

What’s your favourite software? Um... do video games count?

Do you own nail polish/fave colour of nail polish? Nope. I respect men who wear nail polish. I am not one of them.

Favourite herb/spice? This is a tie between parsley and cilantro. These two cover almost every flavor profile I eat on a regular basis: English, French, Mediterranean, Scandinavian, Mexican, Thai, Indian. I almost always have some of both on hand.

Do/can you lucid dream? Yes! I don’t do it often but I taught myself about 15 years ago.

If you could relive a day of your life, would you? Yes! I would pick March 1, 2020, and I would stock up on disinfectant, hand sanitizer, pasta, and toilet paper. Not hoarding, mind you! Just enough for me. :)

Favourite historical era? Ahhh, I am not a student of history. No idea.

A common misunderstanding people have of you? I looked young before I transitioned, and now thanks to the power of testosterone, never going out in the sun, and a robust hairline, I look VERY young for my age. This makes buying alcohol an exercise in self-deprecating jokes (clerks always say something when they see my ID). Also I’m sometimes self-conscious going on dates, because there is always a risk that I look like the younger brother, nephew, or (god forbid) son.

[whumpiary]

I'm not sure were the bergan estate timeline was? like what happened there? I don't understand how cass came to be there or what he was doing and his propose there? I'm just a dumbass child so can u explain a bit??

Oh no no! You are not a dumbass child! I’m just a horrible little goblin man who drip feeds her readers story points and hoards the rest instead of just writing them out like a normal writer! It makes sense that you’re confused.

My writing is just… A Mess. The timeline post is just to give y'all SOME kind of hope of understanding everything that’s all mixed in my brain because there is SO much and I have No idea how to write it.

All the stuff that happens during the Bergen Estate timeline is set before the Facility, and before Cass meets Josiah (or Lou or Tucker, etc etc). It’s Cassius backstory that I got way too invested in.

It’s also like… Kind of dependent on world building stuff that is still kind of gelatinous in my brain but I’ve started sharing more of it the more solid I get on it all. I struggle to write actual world-building and #lore into my drabbles and tbh since deciding a lot of the Bergen Estate details I’ve been in a Huge publishing rut

BUT IM ALWAYS A SLUT FOR AN INFO DUMP SO STRAP THE FUck IN

Bergen Estate is owned by Christopher Bergen, a billionaire mogul who’s best known for his extensive philanthropy and charity work, and Cassius’ first major whumper. It’s essentially just a big ass fucking mansion on a huge slap of land where Christopher lives. The estate is extensively staffed, and also houses a number of at-risk young people who are a part of Christopher’s charity outreach and rehabilitation program. 

The outreach of the program is massive. Christopher only houses 38 charges at Bergen Estate, but there are thousands of people throughout the country in one of his group homes and boarding schools.

The young people who go through the program are colloquially known as Bergen Boys, although that’s a term the foundation itself tries to formally keep distance from (privately,,,,,, Christopher quite likes the term). The program has the reputation of boy scouts meets finishing school, and, formally, it’s not unlike that. It’s a really thorough rehabilitation program that really genuinely facilitates juvenile delinquents, hard to home foster kids, and other at risk youths and then offers them counselling, education, and support to make them employable, functional, constructive members of society. 

The program also takes incarcerated youth under wing by taking full legal responsibility for their actions through an indenture arrangement. All of the graduates leave the program by the age of 25 and are known for being exceedingly polite, well educated, and multi skilled. Most leave multilingual and with a bachelor’s degree in their ~delegated~ chosen field. 

The thing is. 

That’s all the public really knows.

Christopher Bergen is charismatic and charming and very Open™ about the program and his estate. He regularly talks about it in interviews, and there are some relatively well known ex-Bergen Boys who also talk about the program favourably. But nobody actually knows what goes on there. They just know Bad Young People go in and Well Adjusted Adults come out. Nobody really thinks about it beyond that. Nobody really thinks about the ones that go missing, or that quietly and seamlessly end up back in the judicial system, or that just… seem to stay under 25 for a really really long time. 

Those staying at Bergen Estate are believed by the public to be individuals of particularly high risk or dangerous behaviours, who need additional support for success back in the real world. Kids on trial for murder, those exhibiting of particularly dangerous repeated behaviours, that sort of thing. The truth of it is these are just the people that Christopher has taken a particular specific liking to or interest in. 

In this ‘verse, a number of people ( the “evolutionarily advanced”) have telepathy-adjacent powers that they can use to varying levels of success. Often, the kids that end up at Bergen Estate just so happen to have these abilities, or at least seem to develop them after a few months. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule that those at the estate will have powers, it just seems to be a high correlation. 

Christopher is a combo of pretty common whumper tropes. He’s a collector. He likes pretty things. He likes unusual things. And he likes to be loved. The Bergen Foundation and the good reputation it gives means he can have those things on a large scale. But Bergen Estate means he can have them intimately. Christopher gets what he wants. But he’s a good person and he’ll go about getting them in the right way. Eye for an eye for an eye for an eye if he has to.

As for Cass.

Cass wasn’t particularly special, compared to any of the other charges at Christopher’s estate. He did something wrong, then he did something right, then he caught the attention of Christopher.

Surprising approximately no one, Cass had a rough upbringing. He was in and out of juvie from quite a young age, and soon enough had captured the attention of Bergen Foundation staff. He was bright enough, charming when he wanted to be, and the perfect candidate for a success story down the track.

Unfortunately for them, they pretty quickly realised he wouldn’t be a success story. Unfortunately for Cass, Christopher had already taken an interest in the boy in his program who could seemingly get whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted but still hadn’t run away.

At 16 he received a personal visit from Christopher, who gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse and legal proceedings immediately went underway to transfer Cassius’ sentence to the Estate. The rest, as they say, is trauma.

As for his purpose there…occasionally Christopher used Cass the way Tucker does, to sway business deals and woo clients and friends in whatever way Christopher wanted, but frankly Christopher doesn’t need a whole lot of help with business. So mostly, he was just there to give Christopher whatever he wanted. Because Christopher decided he liked him. Simple as that.

[space-caramella]

So besides Isa who else do you play as again in other campaigns?

I am so glad you asked~ So besides Isa Perkins, I've also gotten around to playing Shanti Yamul in @selemina‘s First Casters campaign. We’ve already gone over her so I won’t ramble about her much (unless of course you have questions). I’m just glad to be playing her again, since she was the first D&D character I've ever made and played as~ Next, there’s Meadow. Another fave of mine~ She’s my character for @girugin‘s Endless Winter campaign, and so far she has just been a real joy to play. She’s a foul-mouthed, troublemaker goblin rogue, who’s mostly good at stealing and stabbing, but who also cares deeply about people that she gets to know.. even if her gremlin energy tells you otherwise. She can get emotional and difficult at times, but she can also be surprisingly intelligent, with a harsh, gloomy, and realistic outlook on life. She herself doesn’t think that this winter will end... but there’s another part of her that really hopes it will, someday. For now though, she’s content with just joining the party in the hunt for supplies and allies, and making sure the small community she now calls home keeps running. Next up is Lidewei Malvolia, my character for girugin’s evil campaign: Dragon Mafia. As you might’ve guessed.. she’s not really a good person. She’s a cunning, manipulative cult leader, and the very definition of the word ‘dragon lady’. Working for her lord Duvud, she mostly tricks and convinces people to join her in supporting her lord’s uprising, while also working together with the rest of the party (aka, lord Duvud’s ‘hoard’) to bring him back into a position of power. As a cleric, she mostly serves as the party’s healer, and hopes to solve any issues with as little violence as possible.. but that doesn’t mean she won’t easily kill someone when necessary. Even though she’s blind, which helps in making her look defenseless and an easy prey for many, she is still a force to be reckoned with, and I would advice you to not get on her bad side. There’s also Joe Mcgrady, an NPC for Dragon Mafia who stays by Lidewei’s side and often functions as ‘her eyes’. He originally came from a farm, but left that place to follow and protect the pretty elven woman.. he’s simple-minded, but at least he thinks he’s doing the right thing. Since he’s not a PC I won’t go into much detail, but he’s still my character, so please tell me if you’re interested in learning more~! Sadly I can’t say that I'm a PC in @techpirate1‘s Fallout campaign... but I do play an NPC that shows up every so often! That would be Annie Brown, the small, adorable girlfriend of girugin’s Deathclaw PC, Achii. She started of as a bit of a self-insert for rp’s, but soon turned into a canon oc for Achii and the others to play off of. Annie herself doesn’t do much except stay safe in his house and offer moral support, but she still brings this lively, positive energy whenever she does go somewhere with the gang. She herself is fine staying out of fights and danger.. but she still tends to worry about her boyfriend, no matter how big, tough, and handsome he is. I’ve started to recently play a ranger called Trace in a one-shot my friend @hands-of-fate-ocs made, which might get a continuation soon so I can play Trace more~! They’re, well, a very quiet, very awkward half-elf, having spent most days on their own, and away from civilization. Though they sometimes visit towns, or their mom, to stock up on needed supplies, they’re the happiest when just exploring wild, abandoned areas and looking for anything mythical: especially something regarding fey. Basically, anything that piques their interest is something they’ll devote their sweet time to. But still, after a long while, loneliness did get to them.. which was exactly when they got asked to join a PSI squad. Imagine that! Wanting to overcome their social issues and do something else for a change, they accepted, and are now currently on a mission with their team. They still don’t really seek out companionship and are happy just keeping to themselves, but there’s already a few others in their team that they find.. interesting, at least. Maybe they’ll finally make some friends~ There’s a few more characters that I've mostly just played in one-shots, but are still very loved and are counted as official characters to bring back. Like Fien Intema, my dutch triton bard and local handywoman. She’s confident, flirty, and a bit rough around the edges, but has a good heart. She’ll absolutely speak her mind when bullshit is happening, and might cause trouble here and there, but she’s also careful and kind to others when she needs to be, wanting to avoid conflict rather than start it. Another beloved character of mine is Edgar Mcgrady, whom I played in a one-shot a long while ago, and definitely want to play again in a full campaign. Like Fien, he’s a bard. (I just like to play bards, okay..!) But unlike her, he’s just kind of this charming, simple country bumpkin that escaped from his family’s farm, and is now happily exploring any town or city he can reach. He likes to play his banjo for himself and others, and enjoys getting a drink in a pub or inn. He also likes to her himself as friendly and honest, but there’s a few things he would still like to keep a secret too.. There’s currently a few more characters in the making, and there’s others I have that I haven’t even played, but I think this is all when it comes to campaigns I've played / are playing now. Again, thanks for being interested! I’m glad I can share all this stuff with others now too! <3 Also, y’all please follow my wonderful D&D friends I mentioned here! Along with @ember-menia, @quynh-tessance, @entransta, and @ask-manda-of-the-6

[dustyembrace]

I've decided to switch from #Goblincore

Hey. So there has been a TON of discourse in the goblincore community surrounding the harmful portrayal of Jewish people as goblins. For me, and for every other person I know who has identified with this culture of being "goblin" it has been absolutely nothing of the sort, and personally has actually helped me in so many ways.

Before I continue, I just want to say that this is in no way me saying that people who are uncomfortable with the goblincore community because of the antisemitic background of goblins should feel guilty or invalid in feeling such a way, nor am I trying to gain sympathy in talking about my past and current struggles. I also do not hope that this is seen as an excuse, but rather as an explaination, and furthermore, an apology. I would just like to clear the air a bit and explain why the goblincore community has been helpful to me as a way to further communicate to the Jewish community that this blog was never meant to be a form of aggression, mockery, or hate, (and why it has taken a little while for me to switch this blog's content.) Despite it being a good and loving community for me, as a goyim I know it so not my place to say what is and is not antisemitic, which is why I refuse to argue against the antisemitic connotation many feel it has. (The same way I can not define what is and is not racist, as I am white.) I do, however, feel like I need to give this community a proper goodbye.

So let me start by saying this: I used to feel really, really bad about myself because of how "weird" everyone told me I was.

One way that the goblin community has helped me feel okay, is in my weird habits. I've been "collecting" (or as the goblincore community calls it, "hoarding") since I was around 14 because I didn't have a lot of love in my life, and even fewer loving people, so finding things like stray marbles, pretty rocks, shiny bottle caps, etc was my way of putting love into things that I knew no one else would love. Because I knew what it felt like. But of course not many in my life would see it that way, and I was ridiculed by my family and friends for the excitement and happiness these tiny things gave me, as well as the love I expressed for these things. Being in the goblincore community made me realize I was not alone in this.

I have also had many issues with accepting interests and hobbies of mine, rather than seeing them as something embarrassing. Not only do I like to collect things that wouldn't matter to most people, but I also enjoy dressing up in the tackiest and ugliest clothes I can find. I like putting random colors of acrylic paint on my face in no appealing manner. I get so excited and happy at times that I don't know what to do other than jump and run and yell (what a lot of people call "going feral" which is something I know a lot of people in the goblin community do, and also the first place for me to learn and see this term.) As a goblin, I was allowed to like bugs, frogs, rats, and slimey things that people in my real life could not ever understand, but other people, who just happen to use the term "goblin" to describe themselves, did. These are all things that I used to hate myself for, wishing I didn't like doing these things and that they didn't make me as happy as they do so I could be "normal," but seeing other people loving to do the same thing and putting a word to them gave me confidence and comfort in doing them. I finally felt allowed to like things simply for the sake of liking them.

Though, goblincore has probably helped me most with my appearance. To be "goblin," you can be so not conventionally attractive, and it didn't matter in any way because goblin isn't about what you look like, it's about how you feel. To be "goblin," your body shape doesn't matter. Your height and weight (something I've been personally insecure about for as long as I can remember,) don't matter. You can get dirty and messy, and it wouldn't matter. You could have weird physical features and it wouldn't matter. These would all just be something else to add to the ever growing list of all things "goblin." On top of all of these things, the people in this community see nothing wrong with being "ugly," and can find beauty in the things society deems ugly. I've been struggling with body dysmorphia since last school year, but being in a community that made looking ugly and weird and different seem so okay, and even GOOD at plenty of times, in a way and to an extent I had never seen before asisted me in becoming more accepting of my body for what it is. I do of course still struggle with my appearance, but being in this community has helped me realize that it's okay to look the way I view myself. That it really REALLY doesn't matter.

To be honest...in a way, it was a way for me to escape the stressful ways of life. Appearance and money and society and people. As embarrassing as it is for me to admit, my brain created a whole fantasy world of being green with big, floppy ears, living in a swamp. A world where I don't have as unhealthy of a body as I do and that I could run and jump and climb like most people. It was a escape, and it helped me to de-stress BIG time.

And tumblr was the only place where I could express my extreme love for these countless little trinkets I keep in organized boxes and chests in my room and actually have people listen (and agree!). Tumblr was the only place I could talk about how all of these things most people deem "gross" were actually nice and made me happy. Tumblr let me share my drawings and idea of this fake world and my wacky clothing and I was finally alright with expressing these things instead of bottling them all up where the world couldn't ever see them.

I know this all probably sounds stupid to and will be dismissed by all of the people who don't get it. But it's the same reason some people age regress. It helps in some ways cosplaying and hyperfixating both do. And just because some people don't get it doesn't mean it's not valid.

It is because of all of these things that I will not judge anyone who chooses to stay in the community, and I would not ever send hate to anyone who does so. (Nor will I break mutuals!)

But I've been feeling so completely torn up by guilt for continuing this blog, as I know this blog is only where I express these things, and it's existence will not change how I view myself, nor how I live my life. But to think that the way I have chosen to express all of the weird things about myself no one has ever accepted before, and to think that the vocabulary I have chosen to put to my strange habits is also hurting other people, sending and spreading a harmful message, and making Jewish people think I am unsafe pains me. More than having to bottle this all up again would. At least until I find a better and more appropriate outlet (art, writing, something I can keep more to myself) to express these things.

It is this want I have for the Jewish community to feel comfortable online that I will be switching this blog away from being specifically goblin, to be a combination of naturecore, crowcore, and also some ghostcore (as I've been beginning to resonate with that now, as well,) as a way to do my own part to let Jewish people know they are accepted.

Thank you, Goblincore Community, for helping me feel okay in my own being and skin after all these years of struggling to do just that. I now know, that none of these things make me all that "weird," that I don't owe anyone an explaination as to why these things make me happy, and most importantly: that I am not alone. I will never forget the joy I felt the day I found this community and couldn't help but think, and ask, over and over again "There's other people like me?"

But it is time I find a way to express it differently and use non-harmful vocabulary in doing so. Thank you if you read this far.

- the kid formerly known as 'goblin-gum' on tumblr dot com.

(Please no discourse in the comments. I was very genuine, and I tried my absolute best to be respectful and kind to both view points in this post. If you think something I said was disrespectful in some way, please let me know so I can fix my error(s).)

[sabraeal]

We Seek That Which We Shall Not Find, Chapter 4

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Written by request for @fade-touched-obsidian‘s birthday. Which was actually the day before mine! But let’s be real here, this is far from the latest I’ve been with a birthday gift...

“I think we might be dealing with a wizard,” Mitsuhide posits as Shirayuki removes the last cursed servitor from the map.

“Wow, you think?” Kiki drawls. It’s been a slog since they left the clearing, one or two of these twisted summons showing up with every step they take towards Laxdo. “I just thought this was the natural fauna of fifth-century Wales.”

He frowns, wounded. “I’m just putting out an idea.”

“Big guy’s got a point, but I think our bigger problem is that this is a, uh--” Obi snaps his fingers, eyes rolled back as he thinks -- “a gestalt game. So sure he’s like, some sweet-ass wizard or whatever, but what’s his second class, you know? Like, I can stab a wizard, but if he’s got armor or something...”

Kiki raises her eyebrows, mouth twitching. “I feel like you are underestimating how hard it would be to kill an actual, competent wizard.”

“Well--”

“That’s played by Izana,” she clarifies.

“Ah.” Obi tips his head, letting it thunk against the back of the chair, which is -- a lot, considering how much throat he suddenly has. Right there. Next to her. “Good point.”

“He could be a sorcerer too.” Shirayuki winces, hoping she doesn’t sound -- desperate. Which is what she feels, for no reason at all. It’s not as if everyone here doesn’t know that this is only her second session ever, but still that urgent pulse coils in her gut, making it imperative that she participates, even if she can only name five class off the top of her head, and two of them are hers.

Obi’s gaze hooks on her, thoughtful, and -- oh. Well. Maybe that could be part of it.

“Or an Arcanist?” she offers, lamely. “I’m not sure what other classes can summon.”

“Witch?” Mitsuhide offers.

“Summoner,” Kiki deadpans.

“Too many.” Zen rubs at his forehead, an annoyed sigh hissing through his teeth. “And his stupid minions have bled us dry before we’ve even reached the castle.”

“Are you going to camp down for the night?” Izana inquires, far too innocently. A shiver rolls down her spine. Shirayuki may not have been playing long, but she knows better than to trust him when he sounds like that, all calm and amused.

“No!” half the table shouts out, only her and Obi left blinking. Zen adds, “Can we ask our new friend if anyone is waiting at the castle?”

A sigh would be too pedestrian for Izana, but Shirayuki can tell he’s disappointed they didn’t take the obvious trap. “When he left, he says, he was the only man standing.”

“Man as in humankind-man?” Mitsuhide asks, a nervous tremor rattling his words. “Or as in like, a not-woman? Or in a more general sense--?”

Izana holds up a hand. “I’m afraid this level of philosophy is beyond him.”

“Or his geas,” Shirayuki murmurs, tracing the wood grain with her finger. Every eye tracks straight to her, and she shrinks. “I’m just -- presenting an alternate point of view.”

“I know,” Zen sighs, “and I hate it. Is there any way to know...?”

“Oh, I’m sure you could find a way.” Izana’s mouth curves, and every head drops to stare down at their sheets.

“I have zone of truth,” Mitsuhide offers, his giant hands clutching at the paper like it’s a life raft.

Shirayuki bites her lip. “But will it get around his geas?”

“Yeah, how truthy can your truth get, big guy?” Obi rubs at his chin. “Is it like...universal truth or something, or just how he sees it? Or how this wizard dude wants us to see it...?”

Mitsuhide’s eyes widen. “I...I don’t know. Let me check the text.”

“I always got good old, non-magical Sense Motive,” Obi reminds them. “That could do the job without wasting a spell slot.”

“Same problem.” Kiki drums her fingers on the table, tick tick tick, mouth pursed in a moue of annoyance. “The truth is relative.”

Mitsuhide grunts. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Listen--”

“Before we get too deep into moral philosophy,” Izana hums, “this seems like an excellent time for a break.”

It’s not until he mentions it that Shirayuki notices how stiff she is, how much her muscles are screaming to move, even just a little. She straightens her spine, just to be mindful of her posture, and every vertebrae along it gives its very vocal opinion.

“That sounds--” she coughs, trying to cover the large crack her back makes -- “nice.”

“But we’re not even at the castle yet!” Zen protests, mouth rounding into a frown.

Izana’s brows raise. “Oh, so you are going to trust you friend?”

Pink flares on his cheeks, his ears. “I-I didn’t say that.”

“Break time it is, then.” Izana lets his mouth pull into an unnerving smile. “I’ll expect your decision in fifteen minutes.”

They do not, of course, discuss the situation at hand.

As soon as Izana sits back in his seat, Mitsuhide is back at the bookshelf, pulling out Ultimate Equipment and a few other glossy companion books she can’t make out the title of. Zen is halfway to the stairs when Kiki calls out, “And where are you going?”

Zen stares at her, wide-eyed; the very picture of a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. “Snacks,” he manages finally. “Since my brother won’t share.”

Izana curls a hand over the tin like a dragon with its hoard. “That’s right, I won’t.”

Zen snaps a hand out. “See?”

“Not you,” Kiki says with a roll of her eyes, tapping at her phone screen. “I meant him.”

She jerks her head, and there is Obi, only a few steps behind with phone in-hand, frozen like a cat caught on the curtains. “Me?”

“No, the third idiot on the stairs.” She arches an inquisitive eyebrow. “Just what are you up to?”

“Uh.” He stares down at his phone. “I gotta...piss?”

“Oh, well then.” She smiles at him, all teeth. “Go right ahead.”

“T-thanks.” Obi takes a cautious step up. “I will.”

He bolts up the rest, and Mitsuhide glances at Kiki with a furrowed brow. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.” Kiki has already gone back to her game, bored. “He’s just calling someone.”

Mitsuhide blinks. “Didn’t he say he had to--” his eyes dart between them -- “go to the bathroom?”

“If he needed to use the little rogue’s room, we have one down here,” Kiki informs him, as if somehow a person could miss a room with a Jacuzzi tub.

“Maybe he just wanted more, ah...space?”

Her eyebrows raise. “I think Obi has probably pissed in bathrooms much smaller than that one and had no complaints.” She grins. “But the cell service is shit down here.”

“Shut your mouth,” Izana deadpans, no heat behind the words. He doesn’t even look up from where he’s making his notes, just continues writing in elegant longhand as he scrolls through the SRD.

“Get a router down here already.”

“And have you ungrateful little goblins even more distracted than usual?” He lets out a huff, amused. “I think not.”

“B-but who would he be calling?” Shirayuki winces when she realizes it’s her own voice that’s speaking, little more than a squeak. Kiki’s chin lifts, and over the edge of her phone, their eyes meet.

“I don’t know,” she admits, each word spoken carefully. “Maybe whoever he wore that getup for.”

Logically, Shirayuki is aware she’s being ridiculous.It just doesn’t help to know it.

She vibrates in her seat for three minutes until she can’t take it any longer, her legs expelling her out of the chair and launching her at the stairs with a lame, “I just remembered, I got -- uh -- group project?”

Kiki lifts her head up and gives her a long, searching gaze. “How unfortunate. I guess you should go handle that.”

“Y-yes!” She nods, far too emphatic. “Definitely.”

“School is very important,” Mitsuhide informs her sagely. “There’s plenty of rooms upstairs. We’ll come get you when it’s time.”

“Great!” she squeaks. “Thanks!”

Her phone is in her hands the second she hits the first floor, Kihal’s smiling face staring up at her. She nearly starts typing right there, but banging rings out in the kitchen and sends her scattering. It’s bad enough that she’s considering this, that last thing she wants is people knowing she’s -- she’s -- doing whatever this is. Phoning a friend for -- for life advice, maybe.

She twists the other direction, circling the grand stair to go down a darkened hallway. Lights flicker on as she walks past them, both cool and yet utterly unnerving, like being in a haunted house only the poltergeist activity is helpful, rather than harmful. It reminds her of the lamp on the second floor of the old B&B, where the wiring was so frayed all it took was a good stomp on the second stair from the top to set it on, only it’s all over the house, instead of in a corner where she could dash madly past.

That urge follows her all the way down the hall, and only the certainty that it would be even more disconcerting to have the lights chase her keeps her pace sedate, little more than a purposeful amble.

It’s not hard to find and empty room in the house; she passes by a half dozen on this hall alone, but every single one is missing a light switch. There’s lamps of course, a handful studding each room with silhouettes that say priceless antique, enough that she wonders precisely how much of this furniture predates Zen’s childhood. After all, there’s isn’t enough Tiffany glass in the world to survive a really determined toddler.

It’s after her second turn that she finally accepts that she’ll just...have to go in one of these rooms, under the cover of utter darkness, and turn one of them on if she wants some privacy. It just so happens that the room she’s next to has shadows shaped vaguely like bookshelves, and something like an antique globe, and -- well, when has a library ever betrayed her before?

She edges in, hooking a foot around what looks to be a suitably over-stuffed wing-backed chair, and sinks into it. One hand reaches out, trembling in the thin light, and quickly discovers that the lamp is missing it’s pull-cord, or a switch, or anything vaguely control-like. She even pokes it, just in case it might be one of those touch-sensitive lights she’s always seeing in Target, but -- no dice. It’s just her and the darkness.

And whatever lives in it.

It’s fine. She doesn’t -- doesn’t need a lamp if she’s just looking at her phone screen. Which is what she does, dumbly, for a good minute, willing Kihal to start the conversation first.

No luck on that one, either.

Hey, I have a question

oh there you are you disappeared pretty quick figured you must have hand your hands full of hot college boy

You mean with hot college bot?

i said what i said whats up?

Shirayuki hesitates, the blunt edges of her nails tapping at her case. She doesn’t even know what she needs to say, why she even thinks there’s something she needs to ask --

I just wanted your opinion on something

is it about boys??? if it isnt just lie to me im thirsty for boy talk let me have this

I guess it could be? It involves a boy

!!!! MORE TALK MORE FASTER

She grimaces. This is -- it’s a bad idea, pure and simple. Don’t read into this too much, okay?

too late, Kihal claps back, far too quickly for human hands to type. Shirayuki will never know how she does that, not without her fingers breaking the sound barrier or something. already looking at bridesmaid dresses. now lay it on me

With a deep breath, Shirayuki just types.

Hypothetically, if someone is flirting with you in character, does that mean they’re interested in you in real life? That sounds so much worse when I look at it, please forget I said anything

.... ok u r gonna need 2 back up this train because this is a LOT of nerd is someone flirting with you?? are you flirting with someone??? are you having verbal intercourse with someone at nerd night with all your other nerd friends watching????

What?? NO I just wanted to know You know, intellectually

you come out swinging with s/t like this and you want me to believe it’s for like personal edification or some shit are you KIDDING ME?? WHO IS FLIRTING WITH YOU SEND PICS

It doesn’t mean anything!

excuse me did u not just text *me* for my exact opinion on this or am i just high wtf

Okay, fair, but I don’t *think* it’s anything

uh huh cool okay i think we all know who should be the judge of that SO SPILL

The phone shakes in her hand, and Shirayuki tips forward, resting her forehead on it. She really shouldn’t saying anything. It’s all just for fun, and she’s just -- just taking things too seriously, like she always does. It doesn’t even matter, it’s not like she even wants something to happen --

I think Obi

cute college boy?? what did he do??? what did he say????

I don’t know It’s all been in-game so I think I’m just reading too much into it Not like it really matters, I just want to know so I know how to proceed I don’t want things to be awkward

JUST TELL ME WHAT HE HAS DONE OH MY GOD

Well, we’ve fallen on each other a bunch, and he makes all those ‘falling for me?’ jokes And Zen keeps saying he’s using corny pick-up lines

like wisteria is one to talk hed use em if he could pull it off

That’s what Obi said!

i like this boy already you should make out with his face

PLEASE FOCUS

im just expressing my opinion but continue if there is more to continue with which i know there is because i can feel you being awkward

Well, he also made a joke about how nice my breasts were

oh hm that was about lynet right

Yes

yeah i was gonna say definitely has to be fictional

:|

don’t blame me blame genetics but what you have is very nice! quality over quantity

Please quit while you’re ahead I just don’t think it means anything I mean, he’s clearly flirting with Lynet, not me

right but she is like an extension of you it might just be easier to flirt with some fictional princess than like actually have to flirt with a real girl who may or may not be interested in him

Lynet is a lady of the realm But I understand your point

ohhhh well thank you MILADY

Oh God, don’t start I only mean that he has, you know Options

Options?

Like adult options Of people to flirt with I’m sure a seventeen year old doesn’t seem that exciting

you live in such a nice world but also isn’t this guy like...20? thats not really a big gap like that’s if you started dating a freshman or something

Right But still

so why does there have to be better options?? youre age appropriate its not like hes old like Izana or whatever

I don’t know He’s texting someone right now Kiki thinks it’s whoever he dressed up for

ok wait a minute back up he dressed up?

I mean, not...*dressed* up But he looks nice

hold up he came to your place dressed all nice?? at 7??

Yes?

and you think thats for...someone else? nvm i can tell this is gonna be a lost cause is anyone else flirting?? does this seem to be a normal thing?? i don’t know what’s normal for nerds

No Well, Zen does stuff too, a little Chivalrous stuff Like not wanting Lynet to put herself in danger Or talk to Beaumains at all

ugh ok well *that* is real

“Are you sitting here in the dark?”

Shirayuki jumps, phone slapping hard against her sternum. “Oh, Zen!”

His hair shines white in the hall light, a halo crowning his head, and she sees his teeth flash as he smiles. “You know, you could turn on the lights.”

“Oh, I...” She’s glad he can’t see her blush in the dark. “I couldn’t find the switch?”

“Switch?” His mouth ticks up into a grin. “Lights on.”

The room goes from night to day with a speed that leaves her blinded. She throws up a hand, trying to chase the afterimage from her eyes, but -- “Ow!”

“Oh! Lights off.” Zen lets out an awkward chuckle as they cut out. “Sorry, I get a little excited showing these off. I should have warned you.”

“It’s fine,” she says weakly, rubbing at her eyes. Even in the dark, they still sting. “I just have to get used to--”

Her phone buzzes, which is a strange feeling, so close to her chest. Like it’s having a competition with her heart over who can inconvenience her more.

“Are you...” Zen hesitates, eyes glued to her phone, tongue coming out to wet his lips. “Do you need to...get that?”

“No!” she squeaks, clenching it in her hand. “We were done any--”

Buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz.

Buzz.

“Are you...sure?” he asks, eyebrow arched in a way too like his brother.

Shirayuki shuts her eyes, wishing the floor would just...open up and swallow her now. She can’t just...check with him here. Not when they were just talking about him. The last thing she needs is him catching whatever Kihal’s opinion is over her shoulder. With her luck it would be some sort of -- of short joke.

“Yeah, just...give me a minute. To wrap up.” Under her hand, her phone is blessedly still.

“Sure, just come back downstairs when you’re ready,” he tells her. “Izana says it’s about time to start.”

“Right, yeah.” She nods. “I’ll just be...a sec. I promise.”

He walks out of the room, and she scrambles to her feet, sparing one last glance at her phone.

“Oh,” she breathes. “That is not -- that’s not going to be helpful.”

ok since we can’t use wisteria as baseline normal for you know REASONS i guess the only way to find out if cute college boy is serious is to flirt back or make out with his face you know my vote

Thanks. Super helpful Great advice

that may be sarcasm now but im screen capping this for your wedding for my speech

Raised voices float up the stairs as she stands at the top, phone clutched in one hand and heart in the other. There’s no reason to hesitate; it’s not as if she’s going to -- to take Kihal’s advice. She only wanted to know if it meant something, so that she didn’t...encourage something she didn’t mean to.

After all, flirting for fun is one thing -- not that she would, the way she breaks out into a blush the seconds she makes prolonged eye contact with anyone, but she understands people do -- but she doesn’t want to break hearts, or whatever else Busha might call it with a wink over her tea. She just wants to be informed.

And now she is, sort of. So she should be able to just walk down these stairs and act like a completely normal person.

“Does anyone know where Shirayuki is?” Izana asks, disinterested. “We should begin soon.”

“I can go find her!” Zen’s chair scrapes as he stands.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, milord.” Obi’s drawl drags like silk as he speaks, as if every word is laden with innuendo. “I’m on the end here. I’ll go find my mistress.”

There’s no noise when he gets up, just a pound of her heart and there he is, frozen at the bottom of the staircase, gold eyes rounded as they meet hers.

“Oh,” he breathes, and then his face comes alive with a grin. “There you are, Miss.”

“Yeah,” she manages, voice trembling. “Here I am.”

“Is Shirayuki up there?” Kiki calls out. “Tell her to come down already. I want to get cursed and solve mysteries.”

“Please,” Izana soothes, “as if I would curse you.”

“It’s no good,” she minces, “I’ve played this game for three years.”

Obi lets out a huff of a laugh. “Well, you heard the lady.”

“I did.” She finds herself smiling back, hopping down the stairs to meet him. “Also, my name isn’t miss.”

His grin is far too close. “You’re right. My lady.”

“Are you done flirting?” Zen snaps, arms folded across his chest. “We’ve got a castle to save.”

“Who me?” Obi splays a hand on his chest as she walks past, and winks. “Never.”

She takes her seat beside him, smiling down at the table. Maybe...

Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to flirt a little.

[emmybluefire]

Accounting for Powerful Characters in RP Events

Story Time

So, towards the last couple hours of my shift at work, a rather concerning thought occurred to me: 

“I roleplay a dragon for a reason. But every time I enter the city, or attend an RP event, I’m not allowed to use it. Period. At this point... I might as well be playing a generic mage. That kinda sucks...”

And to be honest? I got a bit angry about it. To the degree that I even started verbally ranting about it to myself in the form of mutters. I just sat there asking myself: Why? Why is it that whenever I enter a RP event, I can’t play my character to the fullest extent? I’ve worked so hard to balance out them out. To make them fun, make them memorable... and yet, people still have yet to get the full experience. 

Dilemma

Every time I try to cast something like “Spellsteal” or “Counterspell” or even use the most basic of dragon abilities: “Dragon’s breath” I’m told “No. No, you can’t because it’d solve the problems in the event too quick! And it would be very unfair to others!” It’s almost like people just- don’t account for powerful characters. Ever. No, that would make things “Too Complicated” or “Too Easy.”

But that’s when this thought occurred to me: “Powerful characters being ‘too special’ and ‘A sign of bad RP’ and ‘A red flag that indicates an asshole player’: These thoughts have been so ingrained in our collective server conscious for so long that even guilds who say they’re alright with powerful characters still don’t account for them in their events.”

This often leads to someone having to constantly annoy the DM asking: “Hey. Is this okay? Can I do this or would it be too much?” and detract from the RP at large. And let me tell you, that’s not fun at all. You feel bad for annoying the DM, and the DM winds up constantly distracted from actually running the event. That needs to change.

Disclaimer

Now, before I get too far into this: I would like to say I understand the opposing argument. One character being more powerful than the others would, In fact, make things unfair to other players. It could, in fact, make things too easy. A character that can solve a complex problem with one spell does tend to remove the challenge the DM worked so hard to develop all too quickly. Games like D&D, 5e especially, face this challenge all to often once the characters get to certain high levels. It’s a problem so many people are unsure how to tackle. At least, in a conventional setting...

On one hand: You need to let your characters play true to how they would. On the other: It really sucks when your hard work is surpassed so easily. Many DMs are unsure what to do, and so leave things as is, and silently vent to their closest friends in the background afterward.

My post today isn’t here to argue against this argument. My post today is here to offer potential solutions to these dilemmas all DM’s and event runners face every day. So, without further Ado: “How to Account for Powerful Characters.”

“Flex Raiding”

This one is my first and foremost solution. The one that I, as a DM or Event runner, would personally turn to as my first solution. In MMOrpgs like “World of Warcraft” , the RP environment is so diverse, vast, and random that it’s rather hard to cater to everyone’s preferences. You have people who like playing silly mundane characters like Old Men, Young Warriors, Book Binders, or even just your average run of the mill Civilian Drunk. But in the same environment you also have people who like to play more grandiose characters like Grand Archmages, Grizzled War Veterans, Elemental Lords, Dragons, and things like that. Sometimes more than one pour into the same pot, so to speak. So when you run a guild or dungeon group that contain characters from all ends of the spectrum, it’s hard to find one particular “Rolling System” that would accommodate for all of those and have it still be fair. 

My solution? Don’t. Instead, here’s what you can do:

In some MMOrpgs, there’s a mechanic called “Flex Raiding” , it’s when the raid or dungeon scales to the number of players doing it at once, and the levels of each player’s character. One can, in some ways, apply this same principle to roleplay events.

Write a version of the event that would come to being if your entire group consists of “Powerful Characters” , A version of the event for when your group consists of just “Mundane Characters”, and a version for when you have a mix of both. It doesn’t have to (And shouldn’t) just be: Army faces hoard, and bellows into them head on.

This can manifest in ways such as: Your antagonists anticipated facing powerful characters, and prepared accordingly. Perhaps they tamed large, hulking creatures from the deep, and placed them among their ranks to aid the hundreds of soldiers. The powerful characters must focus on them to succeed, while the mundane characters keep the armies busy. Or perhaps they managed to cast a large defensive spell that makes it hard for even the most powerful characters to enter, and the mundane must find creative, mechanical ways, like siege engines, to get past it.

Your antagonists trapped the protagonists, and now the soldiers must defend the casters for as long as they can while they pool their powers together. Encounter ends once the casters succeed in casting a very large, devastating spell that annihilates all enemies around them, or the soldiers fail to defend the casters, and must retreat.

Or perhaps it is just a generic battlefield scenario, and all you have are the mundane characters to appose them. The limit for this is truthfully the sky. Your imagination. BE CREATIVE WITH YOUR ENCOUNTERS!

You prepare accordingly, and you’ll be able to run an event where everyone is able to play their part, and their character to the fullest extent. The downsides to this obviously are the level of preparation you have to do in order to make a viable “Flex Raid” ... and obviously the complexity. But if you get used to doing this, it’ll become much easier than it sounds.

Share the Spotlight

All (Well Written) Characters have strengths and weaknesses. Even the most powerful ones. All characters are an aspect of the player’s creativity. Everyone knows that. You could have a really powerful archmage, but they have a crippling phobia of rats. That very same powerful archmage could also be a ritualist caster, meaning that their really powerful spells take time to cast, taking them out of some attack rounds. Without that time, they’re just a generic mage. Little things like that. Of course I’m describing my own character here, but in that situation, your other party members could very much help you out. 

You enter a dungeon that’s infested with rats, and now the archmage is too shaken up to cast. In that situation, the spotlight would turn to the druid who’s able to talk to said rats and remove them from the scene, while one of the more soft-spoken characters work to snap the archmage out of it.

The warrior suddenly finds himself in the middle of an enemy tavern after failing at a stealth roll. At this point, the spotlight would shift to the bard and rogue who’d step in and form a charming distraction or convincing lie to make the patrons look the other way.

The party is asked to come up with battle plans for the impending war ahead but none have any idea how. All, save, for the warrior. He’s fought in wars before. Hell, he was once a general! He knows how to do this. The spotlight shifts to him as he lays his hands over the map and is very quickly able to find a choke point to slaughter the enemy from.

The party is surrounded by a hoard of encroaching goblins, and all seems lost. But at the last second, their draconic ally catches up to the rest of the group and bellows a large cyclone of flame onto the unsuspecting hoard. The spotlight then shifts to the dragon as the party now has an opening to escape their predicament.

Little things like that would help to make roleplay events far more dynamic, all inclusive, and fun for everyone involved. Powerful, OR mundane. Sharing the spotlight with everyone, gives everyone a chance to shine in one way or another. The downside to this one: Depending on the nature the groups you play with, this may require quite a bit of improvisation. But if you’re good at that? Well, what the hell is stopping you? XD

Creative Bosses

Ah yes. The Classic boss. The biggest, toughest, most badass motherfucker in the entire antagonist group. Perhaps even the one leading them all too. I mean, it is in their title right? “The Boss” Well, here’s the thing. MMOrpgs and turn based RPGs often execute them in a way that: “We need a bigger challenge? How do we do that... hmmm.. MORE HEALTH OF COURSE!” ... This, my friends, is a mistake. Especially when there’s much more powerful characters in the group you’re running with. Said characters would, “realistically” just melt through that ungodly amount of health.

All adding more health to a boss does is create conflict among a group, and prolong an event for far longer than it should be. Come on guys. We all have lives, we cant spend ten hours a week of it playing through an event that gets almost nowhere. Instead, what I’d suggest is to consider the following questions: 

-“What makes this ‘boss’, the boss?”  

-“What is happening to them that’s making them so impossibly powerful? Can it be stopped? How do you get around it?” 

-“Does ‘power’ always have to mean magical ability?” 

-“Do they utilize all the resources at their disposal? What’s stopping them form doing so if not?”

Considering these, and applying the answers to your “boss” makes them much more interesting and dynamic. It gives the players something to strive for, something to work together on as a group to figure out and take advantage of.

Your boss could just be a normal human war general, but who’s power come’s from his political influence and the men he has at his disposal. This makes the players strive to expose his corruption and unseat him from his political standing. The men at his disposal could also make it difficult to get to him as well. Get past those obstacles, and suddenly he just becomes a normal human that can be overpowered and arrested just like any other.

Your boss could also be a young, power-hungry elven sorcerer who’s only been studying for about a decade. But in that decade he somehow came across forbidden lore and is now attempting to conduct a ritual that makes him physically invincible. The players could find out about this and find him in the middle of this ritual. To stop the ritual and take away his invincibility, you can’t just cast a “Spellsteal”. The overwhelming power of such magic would tear anyone apart without proper anchoring. So to stop him, you have to destroy his ritual components and the magical crystals he’s siphoning from while he tries to stop you. The boss fight, at that point, would just be avoiding his attacks and his minions until you shatter all the crystals, and the ritual itself is the thing that destroy’s him. Not you.

Conclusion

Accounting for powerful characters, when done right, can be just as hard as it is fun and dynamic. All it requires is, if you’re willing to have a powerful character in the group, is to mold the event accordingly, and work to understand the strengths and weakness of each member. If they don’t show up then have a backup writ on hand for the non-powerful characters. It just takes a bit of care and consideration. I suppose the TL;DR to take away from all of this is: Be creative, consider the circumstances, and create rolls each character in your party has a chance to fulfill. That way nobody feels left out, or held back.

Thank you all so much for reading. As you can tell, I did a lot of thinking into this. I’m open to discussion, and questions should anybody have some. But overall, I feel I’ve said all I need. After all, the goal of this post wasn’t to tell you--step by step--how to account for a powerful character. Just ideas and suggestions to guide you on your way to greatness! ... Being over-dramatic of course XD. But yes. All of you, have a good day or night wherever you may be!

[affectionatealien]

Wanted to do a fun mini chart deal of all of Lab Goblin's relationships! If a character isn't on here they're just acquainted or haven't met yet. And under the cut is a short, better description of their relationship with each character!

Gregory: on good terms. Probably mostly because they don't run into each other often. Likes that they occasionally keep James out of his hair.... Until one of their pranks target him.

Hell's Chef: Finds lab goblin's tastes to be unrefined since their diet is mostly junk, and really hates how they sneak snacks out of the kitchen for their hoard. Lab Goblin sees it mostly as a fun game and enjoys agitating him.

Catherine: Good friends with a morbid synergy going on. Lab Goblin loves to test the blood Catherine draws, and Lab Goblins testing gives Catherine more reasons to hunt down her patients for a sample. They also really like sharing snacks over some bad daytime television together.

Mummy Dog and Mummy Papa: Lab Goblin's most willing 'patients', they seem to be on good terms. Any time either of them seems to think they have a new ailment, Lab Goblin is glad to run all the necessary tests to confirm or deny this.

Dr. Fritz: That's. Their fuckign husband. In all seriousness though they both have a lot of respect for each other as 'professionals'. Lab Goblin's relaxed attitude seems to be quite the stress reliever for Fritz, and Fritz helps Lab Goblin be a little more responsible. And odd, but well matched couple.

James: Mischief buddies. Lab Goblin is childish and always more than glad to help james pull some pretty spectacular pranks on the other guests. Lab Goblin also tends to treat him as a kid sibling.

Judgment Boy: Lab Goblin lives to irritate him because they find nothing more annoying than dealing with trivia hypothetical situations. Will often answer his judgments with nonanswers or absurd 'third choices'.

Neko Zombie: Lab Goblin hasn't directly interacted with neko zombie since they were human, but even then neko zombie had nothing but disdain for them due to their lack of will to escape Gregory House.

[popatochisssp]

Fur a Good Time, Call... 13/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Papyrus & Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus Chapter Warnings: discussion of past suicidal ideation

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can’t imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You’ve got a lot of love to give!

You’re just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who’s been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can’t resist investigating…

AO3 Link

Heart

It’s far from the last time you go to Grillby’s.

Now that Sans has broken the metaphorical ice, he seems intent on keeping his promise to Grillby to do better. The cozy little monster pub quickly becomes a regular spot for you, lunch breaks and date-nights alike.

You meet the occasional human here and there, friends or dates of the regulars or just people lucky enough to have stopped in and gotten hooked on the fire elemental’s stellar cooking…but mostly you get to know the monsters.

Audrey’s fascinated by human cuisine and takes cooking classes with Burr every Thursday night. Apparently, it’s their designated couple’s activity, and they’re such a subtle pair you never would’ve guessed they were together until they told you.

Some weird cat guy whose real name you can’t get out of anyone for the life of you—surely he can’t actually be named Burgerpants?—loves coming in and getting really high in the corner booth. You’re not about to judge, though: he’s always wearing a retail uniform when you see him and however tense and stressed out he is on his way in, BP’s always chill and smiling on his way out, so whatever works for him!

The dogs are a hoot and a half, especially when they find out that you work with dogs for a living. They only get more excited to learn that you and Sans actually have a dog at home, which leads to Buddy coming to visit Grillby’s one night and…

Well…it’s a good thing that you’re already used to loud barking from your time at the shelter. Your ears didn’t stop ringing for hours after that night.

Dino gushes about his son, Franco loudly negotiates gigs over his bluetooth, and Grillby…

Grillby doesn’t say much, actually, but his warm and glowing presence behind the bar is steady and reassuring.

You love it.

You love Grillby’s, and you love all the incredibly sweet and fascinating people you meet there, but most of all, you love what going so often is doing for Sans.

He’s…lighter these days, a little more unburdened. He smiles easier, jokes quicker, laughs louder, and it’s delightfully different.

……No.

On second thought…it’s not different at all.

He’s still Sans—your Sans, all the way down to his marrow—but just…more.

It’s Sans the way he is when it’s just you and Papyrus around, but more often, even at work where he’s usually so closed off and shy, and it feels like the coolest damn thing to get to see other people finally getting to know the sweet and funny guy you care so much about.

Your relationship with Sans takes a nice, easy slide into the comfortable; so comfortable, in fact, that you manage to give poor Papyrus another conniption about it.

“What Do You Mean, You Don’t Have Anything Planned?!”

Silently, you and Sans share a look and shrug.

You know that you, at least, feel an awful lot like a kid being scolded by the teacher for not handing in an assignment. It’s hard not to feel that way with Papyrus looming over you, hands on his hips and impatiently tapping his foot.

“I Am So Disappointed,” he tsks, completing the illusion. “You’re Just Going To Sit Around The House Like Lumps—”

That had been your plan.

“—On Your Own Six-Monthiversary???”

“i don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Of Course It’s A Thing, Sans!” Papyrus snaps. “Human, Tell Him It’s A Thing!”

“……I…guess?”

“There, You See? They Agree With Me! You’re Being A Terrible Datemate!”

Okay, you can’t let that go unchallenged.

“I don’t think that, baby,” you say to Sans, quietly but Papyrus hears you anyway.

“Don’t Tell Him That! He’ll Never Learn Without Consequences!”

You raise your eyebrows. “He would learn with consequences?” you ask incredulously.

“………Stop Making Valid Points!” Papyrus demands in return.

“i feel so attacked right now,” Sans chimes in, but he’s laughing so you doubt his feelings are really hurt.

“Well, How Do You Think They Feel?! Look At Them!”

Sans looks at you and you smile up at him.

“yeah, cute as ever.”

“No! Heartbroken! Let Down! Devastated!”

You don’t really want to make Pap a liar… You frown, just a little bit, utterly fake and disingenuous.

“Yes, Perfect, Like That!”

It’s a struggle not to ruin the expression by laughing.

“Sans, Your Poor Human Naïvely Hoped Against All Logic And Reason That You Might Do Something Special For Them On This Most Important And Momentous Of Days! That You Would Go Against Your Very Nature And Find One Tiny Romantic Bone In Your Body— ”

“ouch, ‘tiny’?”

“—And Sh………You Are Vulgar, Oh My God! For Once In Your Life Of Laziness And Terrible Puns, Be Serious—And Don’t You Dare Say You Can’t Be ‘Serious’ If You’re ‘Sans,’ I Am All Too Aware That You Are Sans!”

You give up, you’re laughing.

Your boys are just too fucking funny, watching them argue is like watching the best improv sketch you’ve ever seen.

“Look, You’ve Made Them Hysterical!”

“oh no. i’m the worst.”

“No One Is Arguing That, And You Are So Lucky That I’m Here To Help You.”

You take a moment to try and get yourself together, deep breaths and not looking directly at either of these damn jokers.

“Oh, Good,” Papyrus grins at you. “You’re Coming Around To Acceptance! I Think You Skipped Over Anger And Bargaining Somewhere In There, But I Admire Your Efficiency!”

Pfft! “Thanks,” you eke out, just barely tamping down a giggle.

“Now, Then,” he says, very seriously, settling a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Sans Is Going To Make Up For His Grievous Oversight And Take You On A Lovely Six-Monthiversary Date.”

“i am? cool.” Sans slings an arm around you, gently pulling you out of his brother’s grip. “been dyin’ for some cheesy fries—”

“No!” Papyrus tugs you back, glaring at Sans. “No Grillby’s! It’s Bad Enough That That’s Your Usual, You Don’t Go To Your Usual For A Six-Monthiversary! It’s A Special Occasion!”

Sans frowns, but seems to take the proclamation in stride. “alright, so…what do ‘i’ have in mind?”

“That’s! ……” Papyrus squints down at you. “That Obviously Has To Be A Surprise.”

Without further ado, you’re nudged carefully yet forcefully to the stairs—shooed away like a too-curious cat from a museum.

“Wait, Pap, what—”

“Don’t Argue!” he chides, unmoved by your confusion. “Go Wait Upstairs For Awhile! Sans Will Get You When His Surprise Is Ready!”

You spare a last look at Sans, who seems only mildly amused by whatever is happening here. He gives you a little wave that makes you smile, and you willingly disappear up the steps.

Down below you, you can still hear a faint exchange, hissed whispers and murmuring, but you can’t make any of the words out, so you don’t bother to keep eavesdropping.

Besides, a romantic surprise sounds…kind of nice.

Whether it was actually Sans’ idea or not, a date with your funnybones was always something to look forward to.

-

You decide to go hang out in Sans’ room while you wait.

You suppose Papyrus’ room is also an option—you don’t think he’d necessarily mind you waiting there—but you feel a little more comfortable encroaching on your boyfriend’s space than on Papyrus’.

You hang out with him in there a lot, for naps and indoor tornado-watching and majorly nerdy (but interesting), casual geology lessons with his rock collection, so it seems like the best option for now.

The piney scent of air freshener tickles your nose when you walk in and you figure Sans must’ve cleaned sort of recently. He’s been pretty good about that lately, maybe especially because you’re in here more often, and it makes you happy that he has a mostly tidy area for himself.

You still remember how cluttered it used to be, and even with a stray sock or discarded t-shirt on the floor here and there, it’s a major improvement.

(You are…a big enough person to admit to some envy over it. Your own room could certainly do with some attention and you make a mental note to take care of that soon.)

Sans’ desk is, naturally, the most organized: it’s where all his rocks are, meticulously sorted and catalogued by means that are…probably very scientific and make perfect sense.

To you, it seems totally random, but you still like to look at all of Sans’ cool specimens and see how many of them you can remember.

Tiger’s eye is easy and so is jade. You remember that the purpley-green one carved into an obelisk is fluorite because Sans made a hilariously terrible pun about it one time that apparently burned it into your brain.

The smooth whitish one in the middle of the desk is harder. It’s iridescent, which you’d think would make it easy to identify, but apparently you were really bad at telling the difference between moonstone and opal.

Sans, being your oh-so-hilarious funnybones, loved to swap them out on you and snicker when you got it wrong, so you pretty much give up on that one entirely.

The polished purple ball is definitely amethyst…ooh, or is it charoite? It looks kind of squiggly and you can’t remember if amethyst is ever that squiggly…

You need more light.

You flick on the desk lamp and the rocks illuminate, sheens and glitter galore that make you feel like some sort of goblin with a primal urge to hoard the shiny, sparkly things before you.

The purple is charoite for sure, and you’re…roughly eighty percent certain that the other one is an opal today, too many colors in it to be moonstone.

But you’re also a little distracted by the weird glint the extra light is causing down by the floor, behind the desk.

You bend down to investigate and find a stray rock, wedged between the desk-leg and the wall. It’s the work of seconds to get it free and when you’ve got it…

Huh.

It’s a decently-sized black rock, dusty where it had been face-up and shiny where it wasn’t. It must have been stuck down there a good long while.

You take your shirt to it, carefully wiping it off and making sure to be mindful the places where it sharply curves into peaked edges, and soon it’s shiny all over, gleaming almost mirror-like from your hand.

You’d never been quizzed on this one before, but obsidian was one of the more recognizable types of rocks out there.

Volcanic glass, your brain helpfully adds and you feel a burst of excitement at knowing a rock fact Sans didn’t have to tell you.

You wonder if he’d be proud of you for that and shake your head, feeling silly for the thought.

Of course he’d be proud of you, and then he’d probably immediately find a way to make a pun out of it. You weren’t sure how, ‘obsidian’ didn’t seem like a very punnable word, but if anyone could find a way, it would be Sans.

You smile and go to set the rock back on his desk where it belonged, but pretty quickly realize there’s a roadblock.

You don’t actually know where on the desk it belongs. There’s clearly some sort of system but you have no clue what it is.

Messing up one of the few things Sans has bothered to organize, even in a tiny way, feels…kinda rude…

You elect to hold onto it until Sans comes to get you.

Since you have no idea what the surprise is and what the wait time on it is, you also plop yourself onto the bed and get comfy.

No sense standing around forever for no reason, right?

You intend to take out your phone and start playing games to pass the time, but you end up playing with the little obsidian chunk in your hands instead. It’s enticingly smooth beneath your fingers, cool but rapidly warming to the heat of your body as you keep stroking your thumb over its surface without rhyme or reason.

Its edges are a little sharp and kind of jagged, but they’re pretty easy to avoid once you properly map them out and besides that, you like the way they look. It…it’s got character, like a lot of your favorite things in this life.

A lot of your favorite people.

You start to wonder if Sans would miss this particular little rock if you just went ahead and kept it, like that shiny-hoarding goblin you felt like a few minutes ago.

…Nah, that would be pretty uncool of you.

You’ll give it back when—

“hey, babe, y’ready for, heheheh, ‘my’ surprise?”

You sit up, grinning and chuckling a little yourself to see Sans holding a blanket and a picnic basket, of all things. “Oh boy, am I ever! Papyrus…does know it’s nighttime, right?”

“………”

You follow Sans’ gaze when he doesn’t answer you right away. He’s looking at the obsidian in your hands and you scoff.

“Oh, right, I, uh…I found this! I wasn’t sure where it was supposed to go, so I—”

“where?”

“What?”

“where…was that?” The tightness in Sans’ voice makes you frown. You’re suddenly extra glad you didn’t just steal it because it seems…important, somehow?

You can’t read it all, but there’s a lot of emotion on his skull right now, more than there should be for just some average, run of the mill rock.

You wonder what the story is, but ultimately, you don’t need to know.

“It was behind your desk. It must’ve fallen off or something,” you say. You hold it out to him, smiling gently. “Here, you can put it…wherever it’s supposed to be!”

Sans reaches for it. He’s unusually slow in taking it from you, his bony fingers just…hovering over your open palm for a long moment.

You look up at him in surprise when instead, he closes his hand around yours, the obsidian still inside.

“keep it,” he says.

“What…seriously?” Your eyebrows knit in something approaching concern. “But…”

“but nothin’. ya’ like it, don’tcha?”

Damn him and his ability to read you like a book sometimes. “Well…yeah, but…”

You weren’t sure how, but…it was an important rock to him, right? It had to be! Some…some sort of memento or…stars, maybe a family heirloom or something!

“i want you to have it,” Sans says simply.

His tone is surprisingly firm. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him speak so matter-of-factly, so you know he means it, but still…

“It’s…it’s not important…?”

“nah.” That feels like a lie, but he immediately follows it with, “it was supposed to be away, i must’ve missed it in the great rock purge of 20XX. doesn’t belong on the desk, anyway, you’d be doin’ me a favor if ya’ just took it. really.”

“……You just don’t want to dig out the shoeboxes for it,” you accuse.

Sans laughs, deeply amused…and maybe just a little bit relieved.

“ya’ got me,” he admits. “s’a lotta work for one little stone and, uh, between you an’ me…i didn’t really get’cha anything for our six-monthiversary.”

You give him an exaggerated gasp of shock. “No!”

“i know, i know” he sighs, just as dramatically. “m’a cad. a scoundrel. a ne’er-do-well…whatever that is.”

“Harsh, but fair.” Sans releases your hand and you look at the…your obsidian. “Well…I’m honored by your thoughtless, last minute gift of rock.” You grin at him a little slyly. “Great minds think alike?”

Sans grins back. “you know it,” he says, and out comes the convenience store paperweight from his pocket, the one you’d bought him all those months ago back before you’d even been dating. “take it with me everywhere.”

You know he does and that makes you feel stupidly warm and gooey.

“I guess I can return the favor, now,” you say, slipping the obsidian into a pocket of your own. “Couples’ pocket-rocks: we’re gonna start a new trend.”

“heheheheheheh, trendsetters, that’s us.” Sans leans down to nuzzle the top of your head, gentle and sweet as always. “just be careful with it, yeah? s’a little sharp—you’re squishy.”

“I choose to take that as a compliment.”

“good, ‘cause it is one.” You get another gentle bump of teeth against your forehead and Sans pulls you to your feet. “c’mon, let’s go, i’ll tell ya’ all about your present on the way.”

Sans surprises you by actually walking all the way downstairs with you instead of just shortcutting you wherever it was you were going.

True to his word, he gives you a whole miniature lecture in the course of the trip about the care and keeping of your new obsidian—you learn that you can wash it with warm water and gentle soap, but not to use anything abrasive on it because that could damage the polished sheen.

You cut in when he starts to say it’s formed from molten rock to tell him that you know it’s volcanic glass, and just as you thought, he looks both surprised and proud of you for already knowing a rock thing.

He also says your observation was ‘ingenious’ but his inflection makes it sound an awful lot like the word ‘igneous,’ so you were right on both counts.

You sure know your big dork of a skeleton.

You notice the conspicuous lack of Papyrus and Buddy as you walk to your destination and figure Pap probably made the both of them scarce to give you and Sans a little privacy for your apparently very important milestone date and the consideration is appreciated.

So is the big, fluffy blanket that Sans slings around your shoulders as soon as you step out into the moderately chilly backyard.

Winter is on its slow way out still, but by now all the snow is melted and the air is what you’d describe as brisk instead of outright cold. With the blanket, it’s more than bearable, which is probably a good thing.

With the picnic basket and the telescope set up in the middle of the yard, you think you’re probably going to be out here awhile.

“Stargazing?” you ask, unable to disguise the excitement in your voice.

“heheheh, stargazing,” Sans agrees. He waggles the picnic basket enticingly. “plus snacks. Pap snuck a couple thermoses in there, could be soup, could be tea…”

“Could be cocoa.”

“endless possibilities.” The red of Sans’ eye-light looks pleasantly soft and warm beneath the cold, white moonlight and you find yourself instinctively leaning in. “happy six-monthiversary, babe.”

You kiss him. You don’t think there’s anything else you can do.

-

It takes…longer than you’re willing to admit to get to the actual date part of your date.

It’s hardly your fault that Sans’ nuzzling is addictive, or that his big hands stroking your back and shoulders through the blanket is something you never want to pull away from.

Eventually, though, you pick at the snacks while Sans fusses with the telescope a little, telling you how to use it while he picks a good spot in the mostly cloudless night to settle it on.

You’re surprised that Papyrus just had something like this lying around, and Sans surprises you even further by admitting it’s his—the same one he once told you he rented out Underground.

“could only look at a ceiling back then,” he says, distractedly. “view’s way better up here. c’mon, take a look.”

You get up and wander over to the telescope, hesitating a second because the last thing you want to do is damage one of Sans’ older possessions.

“don’t worry, i wiped the paint off the eye-piece,” Sans promises. “Pap made me, you’re safe.”

You laugh. “God, of course you pranked people with it, I should’ve known…”

Still, you trustingly look through the telescope, hoping Papyrus really did have your back on this one.

You forget all about it when you see the stars, closer and brighter than you’ve seen them in a long time—maybe ever.

“Wow…”

Sans comes up behind you, helping you adjust and move the telescope around here and there to different corners of the heavens. It really is a view that’s just…

“beautiful…”

You pull away, tilting your head back to find Sans observing the sky with just his own eye-sockets.

The dreamy awe on his skull makes you feel even cozier than your blanket and you gently nudge him in the ribs. “You want a turn on your own telescope, or…?”

Sans doesn’t even look at you as he says, “nah, m’good. this is plenty for now.”

You huff out a little laugh, leaning back against Sans and just looking up with him. “You really love the sky, huh?”

“understatement,” he murmurs. “it’s wild that ya’ just…have this, all the time.”

You can’t imagine what living your entire life in a cave must’ve been like. You don’t care to, it can’t have been good, even before it got a million times worse with the famine and everything attached to it.

“What’s your favorite kind of sky?” you ask him, curious.

“what, ever?” You make a noise of agreement and Sans pauses to consider it. “sunrise, probably. all the colors…an’ the sun, that was a hell of a thing, that first time…”

Sounds right. You’d seen some truly incredible sunrises in your time on this planet and even when you took them for granted, you still always thought they were pretty.

“even…even this, though,” Sans says. “even when it’s night an’ the sun is gone, ya’ still get this. the moon, an’ clouds, an’…an’ stars, damn…there’s so many, i never…i never thought…”

He trails off and you let him. You can guess the ways he may have finished it and you don’t need him to say any of them.

Instead, you say, “There’s a million constellations, too. You know any? I can pretty much just point out the dippers, and that’s on a good day. Well, night.”

“heheheheh…funny you ask, i, uh…” he sounds a little shy as he admits, “i used to wanna learn about that stuff…constellations, y’know. …never got around to it.”

“How come?”

“……”

You can’t look up anymore when Sans settles his chin atop your head, hugging you closer to him.

“…never had much hope,” he says eventually. “lot of us did, i guess. even after the…the human.” He chuckles a little and it sounds tired. “Pap always believed…that we’d get up here one day, see the stars for real. but i…i dunno, it was harder for me to…to think that way. it didn’t seem like a thing that’d ever happen.”

“It did though,” you’re quick to remind him. “You’re here. You’re out.”

You get a grateful little squeeze for that. “yeah, i know. just…wasn’t always that way. didn’t see much point learnin’ stuff i was never gonna get to use.”

You reach up, idly petting at one of the arms Sans had wrapped around your midsection. The worn, blue fabric of his hoodie is much softer than the sturdy bones beneath it, but you find you love them both in equal measure.

“i, uh…actually, for awhile there…” Sans speaks haltingly, carefully weighing each of his words, and you keep quiet and let him. “when we…started collecting souls again…and seeing the surface seemed like it was actually gonna happen…i…i kinda hoped i…wouldn’t see it?”

“…What do you mean, baby?”

Sans takes a breath from behind you, holding it before letting it out in a whoosh.

“i…i used to hope i’d dust before we ever got up here.”

A bolt of fearful grief strikes through you, robbing you of speech.

Sans keeps talking, though.

“thought it’d be hunger,” he says, too casually for the subject matter. “always…i always felt it the most in between humans…hoped i would……an’ then i wouldn’t have to…to do it again. or maybe karma’d get me, one of ‘em would…would see me comin’ an’ fight back, dust me then.”

This wasn’t…entirely new to you. Sans had talked about this once before, briefly, telling you in passing about feelings like these.

It had come on the heels of so much other shocking information and it had been painful to hear then, but it feels so much worse now to hear Sans talk about dying.

You think you hadn’t loved him then, not the way you do now, and stars above, you do love him now.

The very thought of Sans not being around wouldn’t feel so much like losing a limb if you didn’t.

You’re not sure if you make a sound or if he can just feel that you’re upset, but Sans nuzzles at you, making hushing noises of comfort.

“s’okay, baby, s’okay, i’m not…you don’t gotta worry about me, i never… made an attempt or anything, i don’t…i don’t got that in me. s’just how i felt sometimes, on the bad days. i wanted…to punish myself, i think. for doin’ the stuff i did.”

His arms uncurl from your body and his hands are held out just in front of you. By the moonlight, you see the pale bones of his metacarpals, scraped and rough, and you don’t hesitate a second to fill them with your own hands.

“You don’t…” You bite your lip. “Do you…still think that way…?”

You’re a little afraid of the answer, but you need to hear it.

Sans spins you around to face him, your arms briefly tangling in your urge to not let go of Sans, but when you get it all sorted out…

He’s smiling at you, warm and real.

“no,” he says. “i don’t. not really.”

Your relief is so strong that for a moment, you feel weightless.

“got my bad days. happens, but…not bein’ around doesn’t really appeal the way it used to, y’know? got more stuff i wanna stick around for.”

There aren’t words for how happy you are to hear that.

“i got Pap, the guys at grillby’s, all those fluffy idiots at the shelter…” He chuckles a little and adds, “the fluffy idiot back in the house.”

“Hey,” you manage to say sternly, “that’s no way to talk about our son.”

One of his hands leaves yours, coming up to cradle your cheek.

“i got you, too,” he says softly, looking down at you with lidded eye-sockets.

For a second, you’re sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest, but he breaks your gaze to look up again.

“an’ i got the sky. there’s a whole lot of stuff for me to hope about these days, and...” Sans smiles just a little bit wider. “hell, i think i’d even say i’m…happy.”

Stars, you’re happy, too.

Here, in the arms of the strongest, most wonderful man you know, you don’t think you could be any happier.

You really do love him.

You press your face into his hand, turning just enough to be able to kiss it.

“Hey,” you say against his palm, “let’s learn constellation stuff.”

Sans snorts, building into a not-entirely-dismissive laugh.

“what, for real?” he says, like he can’t quite believe you said it. “you don’t think it’s, uh…heheheh, a little late for me to be learnin’ new stuff?”

He raps his knuckles against his skull with a hollow ‘tok-tok,’ but you don’t let it deter you.

“That’s why I wanna do it together!” you explain. “We can help each other out, it could be fun. Couples’ astrology!”

You see him trying and failing to hold back another laugh. “astronomy,” he corrects you. “unless you’re askin’ me what my sign is. real roundabout way of doin’ this, you’re supposed to ask my sign an’ then date me, what if we’re not compatible?”

“Pffff, shut up, we’re compatible,” you insist. “You know the right kind of star-charts to google, and me…” You smirk at him, a crafty glint behind your eyes. “I make some killer flashcards.”

Sans stares at you for a few seconds, processing.

You go on high-alert when his eye-light starts doing that shivering thing again, but this time… This time, it doesn’t stabilize into its normal, perfectly round shape.

Your mouth drops open when you see it.

“Sans,” you breathe, your eyes going wide. “That’s adorable, I didn’t know you could do that!”

“………do what?”

“…Oh my god.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “You don’t even know you’re doing it…?”

Sans frowns a little, starting to look concerned. “doing what?”

It’s so, so hard not to squeal, but… “Your eye is a heart, baby.”

The big, red heart-shape taking up Sans’ eye-socket is the cutest, sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You love it, almost as much as you love Sanswhich, as you’re starting to realize, is a hell of a lot.

Sans is maybe not quite as thrilled about his eye-light’s new trick as you are.

As soon as he realizes what you’ve told him, he’s practically blushing his skull off, hurriedly covering his face and whirling away from you like you hadn’t seen what you’d just seen.

Unfortunately for his pride or his ego or whatever was bruised right now, you aren’t exactly prepared to let it go.

You chase after him, trying to tug his arm away. “Come ooooon,” you whine playfully, “that was cute, I wanna see it!”

“no, nuh-uh,” Sans grumbles, trying to be gruff to scare you off, but he can’t fool you after that affectionate display.

He’s a softie, through and through, and you can’t get enough of it.

“Saaaaaans…!”

“no! quit it! it’s not, don’t!”

There’s a bit of a scuffle that’s about as one-sided as you could imagine: you’re a wily little human and he’s a gentle giant of a skeleton who’d never lay a hand on you.

Even when your blanket falls off and you both hit the ground on top of it, Sans manages to roll so that he takes most of the impact and you end up…well, exactly where you want to be—on top of him, bracing yourself against his rib-cage while he lies on his back beneath the moon and the stars.

You take a moment to catch your breath, winded from the little play-fight and your laughter. It’s a little disappointing to see that his eye-light is back to its normal shape, but you try not to get too down about it.

If you got him to do it once, you could get him to do it again. You’d just have to try harder from now on.

Sans is…very handsome from this angle, in this lighting. You think he’s handsome pretty much all the time, but right now especially…

You wonder if now would be a good time to tell him that thing you just realized, with that four-letter word that so many people were scared to say.

You open your mouth, ready to tell him.

“I—”

“y’shouldn’t play rough like that, that’s grounds for a break-up.”

“…snrk!”

So like Sans to break the tension with a shitty joke.

It’s part of the many, many reasons you love him.

You laugh and he grins proudly, his embarrassment easily forgotten and you’re happy to help it along by leaning down for a kiss.

“Stop trying to distract me,” you say against his teeth. “Let’s talk about those flashcards. Four-by-six?”

“ya’ gotta be kiddin’, with the size of my hands?” They land on your hips, holding your much smaller self steady with ease. “five-by-eight is barely good enough. lined or unlined?”

“Lined,” you say forcefully. “Don’t you ever suggest unlined to me again, I’m offended.”

Sans laughs. “offended over note-cards, an’ you call me a nerd?”

You hit him with the flattest look you can manage.

“Sans, you gave me a lecture on the care and keeping and properties of obsidian on the fly. No prior notice. Yeah, you’re a nerd!”

“that’s in these days, though, right? nerds are hot?”

Yours sure was.

“Eh, you’ll do,” is what you say.

It seems to be the right thing because Sans happily pulls you down for another nuzzle that you enthusiastically return.

All things considered, it’s probably the best six-monthiversary date you’ve ever had.

Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

[kaiju-z]

Seon Adventures Episode 11: “ The Shopping Trip (FROM HELL!!!) ”

We continue right where we left off (with a slight retcon, to where Luctan and Mournimar had given Burk directions to a fight club, should he find the time.)

As the tieflings (one in human disguise, naturally), walk about to find the  Abbacus Walk library, they notice  there’s a lot of variety in the races in Sa Doma (It would appear that the closer they get to Crystalgate, the more variation there is). On the South side of town, the usual combo is Humans, Half-Elves and Halflings, with a variety of giant folk and lizard people as they pass along.

While they pass the entrance from which they came, they get weird looks from the two red tiefling guards, that Luctan had taken notice of earlier, but nothing really dings for either side as the boys make a slight detour to the “Queen Nightingale” tavern.

A family establishment, in both senses of the word as adults and hang around, sit around and play around, with a muscular half-elven server giving some entertainment to the kids.

While a little tiefling girl and a goliath boy play tag around them, Luctan overhears and snoops in on a family unit of half-elves, who are in talks with the barkeep, whom we later learn is Medive (or s we figured already, since Gorruk did point it out). The family are to make a trip to Crystalgate in the next couple of months. One they usually  make for a year’s time.

Luctan manages to play things cool as he falls onto the male elf, only getting a slight chiding to lay off the drinking, while Mournimar talks acquaintances with Medive and elaborates on how Gorruck is doing. “A friend of Gorruk is a friend of mine.” Medive says as he continues to give us some advice on Sa Doma.

Things we had already heard from Ficus, mostly.

What we don’t know, but now learn, is that Medive is a married man, husband to the half-elven yolked fellow named Rufus.

Luctan and Mournimar are given advice to stay away from the taverns in the Southern part of the city, as that is where trouble lies (REMEMBER THIS FOR LATER!), but should they look for work, as they appear the adventuring sort, they could speak with the Lawmaster there, as they usually have work that the Dark’sbane army would vehimetly refuse to partake in.

What’s more, the priestes of Bellinas has been having trouble lately,s what they learn.

With nothing else to add to the conversation, the boys decide to take a seat and eat some fine meats and drink some fine drinks (whiskey and brandy respectively).

While the boys nom, we cut to Belli and Ficus, who are on their way to the temple of Keemis, Goddess of Birth and Death, with Ficus having re-disguised himself as a human man.

Before long they would arrive at the temple of Keemis. It seems to be a lot more simplistic in design, compared to others. The symbol of a snake eating it’s own tail on it.  Belli points “Hey, look! It’s like what Fantasy Marylin Manson tried to do.”  Belli does not approve of the minimalism. Hoards and shinys, do.

Going inside, the duo meet up with Kit, presenting herself as her usual changeling self, and a purple tiefling man named Rosef, a friend of the two rogues and, as it has been set up from last session, a drug dealer.

What follows is a introduction for and to Belli, before the trio aquire Summershade for themselves. A type of experimental batch. How experimental? This is the second batch, basically. (Belli ain’t no pussy. She wants that good shit.)

Before the three leave together, they talk of the gods. “Keemis will take us when our time is right. Why not enjoy ourselves until then, you follow?!”Rosef states. And absolutely doesn’t believe Belli when she claims they met Dyunificus (or a representation of him at least).

As the three make their leave to do the drugs, some Beli/Kit flirting happening in the process, we cut to Burk, who gets a room for himself and Rimefang, where he tries to hold a conversation with his baby boy, whomst he has adopted.

Sadly, he can’t understand draconic and Rimefang becomes visually perplexed (MAYBE EVEN SAD?!) that his Goblin dad doesn’t get his lingo. It doesn’t take Burk long to go and look for a translator, lucking out with a Lizardfolk man, whom helps him with some mediating with Rimefang. So far he’s called Burk “Dad” in Draconic.

And advice to help the little one learn common.

And so comes the time for Rimefang’s first word in Common.

“Kill.” Burk is a froud FÄTHER.

Returning back to their room,  Burk gives bedtime stories for Rimefang. “And then everyone died.”Rimefang is picking up random words. He calls Burk “Dad”.

Back with the tieflings, they leave the tavern after a hearty meal and double pistols and a wink. And make their way to the place they were originally planning on going. 

Luctan talks with a prostitute along the way, having noticed that she seemed quite miserable. But his kind gesture only earns him smoke, from her cigarette, to the face.

Luctan retaliates, by leaving and using thaumaturgy to make a loud crashing noise inside the establishment she works off from. Though she doesn’t go in.

They eventually reach the Library Tavern, where the atmosphere inside is warm and welcoming. A magical fire heats the building’s insides from the fireplace as the two take note of all the shelves. It’s actually kind of wild how many books are in here.

Each tiefling checks for a book that would interest them. Mournimar finds his quarry imediatelly, a book on the constellations. A guide with many pictures, and takes to a sofa,to do some reading.

Meanwhile, Luctan gets his hands on a book by some weirdo named “Taryon Darrington” and immediatelly doesn’t believe the guy’s legit in his writings. This all seems frankly made up. Really?! A Kraken?!

Instead, he continues with his search and then gets something that really catches his eye. The book “ Haanderstaad “,  Scribed by “Gillan Monroe and written by Kheya Steelheart, a brave dwarven woman and adventurer in her own right.

It writes about the misdeeds of a clan of bandids. Mountainspine” is the clan. Referred to often as simply... The Spine.  - A Tribe of Dwarven bandits from about 10 years back and how they would take advantage of the effort of war to increase their raids. It told of how they’d get more powerful, the trials and tribulations of living this lifestyle and the lessons one could take from it.

Taken interest, the two proceed to buy these two books from a very strong, elderly Goblin woman, whom Mournimar is just aghast by, but Luctan is just completely giddy over.

With a transaction made, the two proceed to Peppery Pete’s.

All the while, Amelia keeps on snoozoing. Good times.

Back with the trio, they eventually reach Ficus’ hideout after much walking and flirtations with orcish fellows.

There, they do drugs and it basically plays off like every video of a bunch of cats on catnip. Lots of face touching and poking and drawing dicks on Ficus face. So many dicks. So many.

So. Many.

That and Ficus drinks a potion, which makes his veins glow a bright blue. Which Belli adds to with the Dancing Lights, basically creating a mini-rave inside of this safe house, where talks of waifus and whatnot occurs.

There was cake at some point in their backstory. It was wild. Ficus is sometimes so proud.

As the girls go outside, we cut back to Luctan and Mournimar, who manage to score a Bag of Colding from Peppery Pete’s, along with a business arrangement to represent him and his wares during the Festival in less than two months in Crystalgate. Some pricess lowered, naturally. There is also talk of magical items and enchantments to be applied, if possible.

The boys get some information on the tournament. Some that they knew, about the accidents that may happen,and some that they didn’t, that every faction on the continent gets represented during the tournament. Usually by teams of 4-5 members.

As the conversation draws to an end, they get more information on the priestess of Bellinas’ woes. There’ve been disappearances happening lately and Potencia worship has been occuring more often than not.

That said, the boys make their leave from Peter’s and proceed to gather the rest of the party, having decided to investigate these happenings.

Amelia, with a killer hangover, joins them and they soon collect Burk and Rimefang. Together, the six (Amelia, Burk, Luctan, Morgan, Mournimar and Rimefang) get to Keemis’ temple and speak with the high as a kite Rosef, explaining their search and want to involve themselves in the drama involving Potencia’s worshippers.

Rosef sighs, elaborating that he doesn’t involve himself with other deities, beyond his own. They eventually leave and carry on Northward, searching for the next 1-2-3-4 hours (and that’s with a roll of 19! Seriously, the tiefling boys were pretty on their game this day with same rolls).

They eventually find Belli, alongside a disguised Kit. Whom appears to them as a pink tiefling (the ribbon tied to her right horn). They are writing weird symbols on the wall of the temple of Honos.  Belli’s high af. And neither of the ravenhaired boys notice it.

They try to bring Belli along, back to the taver, having realized they’d have to update everyone in the morning. With a 19 roll, Lucky Luck Luckily picks up Belli over his shoulder and does the carrying, while getting “pounded by mighty fists” on the back. Ah, sibling shenans.

Everyone gets rooms!

Burk and Rimefang share a bed, as they are small sized, Amelia takes a room for herself with a double bed, getting all that room to sleep in and the remaining four take a third room, where Morgan guards the door, while Belli sleeps on top of the tieflings, while Luctan does some reading (as best he can).

Belli has completed her quest! (Full Steamer Ahead).

The following day, they are woken early on by the quaking of the ground (Luctan gets blamed, since he did do an earth shake on the way back, passing by the prostitute’s establishment).

His innocence is soon established as the bunch exit the building, seeing a pillar of smoke rise to the sky from far away. History tells Belli, Burk and Mournimar that this is from a volcano, which hasn’t errupted in 2,000 years!

Having updated each other on the Potencia activity and thinking it connected somehow (*cough, it’s not, as our Dm stated later on, since this was related to the ball from sessions 7-8) and the party takes off to the temple of Bellinas, where a motherly human woman in sleepwear stands outside, tired and slightly graying. 

The Priestess with a very elaborate facial scar, introduces herself as Nash and we, in turn, introduce ourselves by names and party. (Apt, as this Side-Quest is called “Who you gonna call?!” She looks confused as Belli introduces herself, seeing as she shares a name with Nash’s Godess). We learn more of the disappearances. Details, such as places of vanishment and common patters, like the drunk, the lonely, those who wouldn’t be missed. The usual victims, basically.

She, Nash, radiates that Big Mom energy and (I can say this as Luctan’s player at least, Luctan feels a great urge to help her, regardless. He is the momma’s boy of the party. It’s him.) is a bonafide doo-gooder. Gosh darn heck it!

We agree to help, having experience with taking down cults (Word travels fast, even in a low tech world as this) and Nash is impressed. With all possible details that we can think of being covered, The party sets off to the Southern part of town.

(TOLD YOUUUU!)

We find ourselves in one of the locations that Nash gave us, that of the  The Scared Heart tavern. A fucking dingy place, where we pass by a smiling troll man (nice guy, totes), before entering. Inside, we speak with the barkeep, regarding the missing man, who had been working here. And we pay him, a Golliath, 10 gold to make a quick investigation.

Burk does good with a roll of perception, recognizing someone.

One of his three targets. A red tiefling with blue hair, a dagger at his side. One, whom recognized Burk’s armor the moment he had entered and had looked away. Possibly, thanks to Mournimar speaking with him and the man’s rude response, it’s when it clicked for Burk. The man, who killed his cousin Sam.

As the quartet  make their way up the stairs, Burk hands Rimefang to Amelia, while he approaches the devil man, sweating buckets at the mere presence of the scarred Gorbarian (I WILL MAKE THIS A THING, DAGNABBIT!)

Burk confronts the man. And bluffs that he wants to hire him for a job, asking him what his opinion was of goblins. “Feral, violent things.”

Burk corrects the man that most goblins aren’t violent. Except himself. 

He rages.

And he lops off the deep red tiefling’s arm, spraying the room with plenty of blood.

He soon knocks the slayer of his kin out and bribes the Golliath with all the gold he has, to keep him quiet. As this is the shadiest part of town, it works. He takes a room, where he plans to spend some quallity time with his victim, while Amelia is urged by the Golliath to collect water and clean up the mess Burk made.

Rimefang at her side, having to be held back by Amelia as Burk takes the unnamed tiefling away.

Upstairs the four go and investigate for any clues, but beyond the symbol of Potencia, we don’t find anything of note, sadly. Deciding to move on with a different location, nearby, they ask Amelia to avoid drinking, so as not to make herself a target, while she waves at them with the lopped off arm of the tiefling. (It’s been a day, man. It’s been a daaaay.)

From the second location, Mournimar gets a familiar feeling and theorises that Lazarus is involved here... But as it were, he can’t be sure. Outside the building we find a trail of blood and footsteps in the dirt and with Morgan’s experr snoofer, we reach the back of a tavern, called “The Venomous Row.”

The backdoor is closed, locked even. 

Some planning occurs and, with 20 minutes of Pass Without a Trace to spare, the trio collect the rest of the party, but Burk and go back to the backdoor of the tavern.

Ficus opens the door with a Knock Spell and inside we investigate the stench coming off of the barrels...

Much to our shock, we find a body, in rigor mortis, cut apart in one of those barrels. The target, based on his condition, we deduce that he was very much alive, while he was being destroyed. The torture lasting for days, before the man passed.

With a 21 history check, Mournimar recognizes the handy work and remembers the person, whom would have done this.

Not Lazarus.

But Kah’lia Da’vir. Mournimar’s very much living mother.

The boy is in panic and is comforted by Belli and Luctan, who keep him safe and sane in this trying time.

The lot agree to collect Burk and take their findings to the Lawmaster. (Along the way,  Amelia wiggles her brows, when Belli mentions that Amelia could yeet Mournimar out of a window, while they make plans on how to proceed ahead).

With a clean Burk at their side, they visit the Lawmaster’s building, but are forced to partake in the buroacracy of talking to fucking Stacy. The Half-Drow secretary, who keeps talking about appointments and shit.

This leads them to nowhere. Not even Amelia exhuding that Big Lesbian Energy can help them. Stacy is such a Stacy.

With their attempts not working out, Luctan decides to take the reins of the situation and heads off, followed by a determined Mournimar. Everyone goes along as they draw close to the tavern, before Luctan nods for Mournimar to follow him in a back alley.

Luctan takes his ring off and hands it to Mournimar. In case they find MarMar’s mother inside they’d need time to prepare if they have an all out battle with the cultists of Potencia...

Mournimar takes the ring, puts it on and takes the form of “Michael Moonglow”, aka. “Mike”.

Walking out, Ficus is, to say the least, very impressed with Luctan’s true form. Luctan appreciates this.

This settled, the bunch take to “The Venomous Row”’s front entrance, going in. All of us. All Nine of us. With Morgan and Rimefang. (In hindsight, we should have had a few folks come in from the front and a few from the back, but aah, emotions were on high and Wisdom is in low supply).

Taking to a table, Luctan can tell that at least five people have their eyes on the Cultbusters:  Two bartender women, two patrons sitting at a table with another person (at another angle), a man sitting next to a male bartender and a man sitting next to a fireplace. And shares with the gang.

There is a backroom, on the other side of the bar and Belli sends her familiar, in fly form, to investigate.

There, he finds a ravenhaired woman and a man, who is writing down something.  As this is happening, Luctan manages to bluff, with some play acting and good rolling, that Belli has passed out from going on a pub crawl.

Buggy (as I will refer to the familiar, until Jes gives them a name) flies around and Belli sees markings in a language she doesn’t know, on the book. As well as Potencia’s symbol. 

As a person goes inside, Luctan whispers to Belli, who snaps back out of things, to cast sleep on as many people as possible.

And the session ends here (And out of character knowledge, we learn that there are guards outside the establishment).

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[furtheradvofsanta]

Santa Claus Letter 2018

So for years, starting in the 1920s, JRR Tolkien would write letters to his children as Father Christmas, including fanciful drawings and tales of FC and his friend, the North Polar bear, exploding the Northern Light gunpowder or fighting goblins.

Upon the birth of my own nephew a few years ago, I decided I would steal this idea. Even though he is only a few years old, nevertheless I composed a letter for him from Santa Claus. Theoretically, I will continue to do this, making the letters longer and more intricate as he gets older until he decides they’re stupid and that they should stop.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the skill for drawing or fancy lettering that Tolkien did, so I just had to type it up. Maybe future letters can include drawings.

This one is way late and the stores are all full of Valentine’s stuff by now, but I still haven’t seen the neph for Christmas yet, so this got put off a little in favor of other holiday stuff. I hope you will forgive. This year I decided to do a bit of a riff on one of the most famous parts of Tolkien’s Father Christmas letters, I guess because it amused me.

Anyway, I thought I would share it with you here under the cut (even though it does give away some of my Santa Claus secrets!). Feel free to reblog this, or if you want, to use it as a template and alter it for use with a child you know and love, but please do not republish this without my permission. Thankssss.

You can read 2015′s letter here, 2016’s letter here, and 2017′s letter here.

Santa’s Workshop Beyond the Riphean Mountains Beyond the North Wind True North Pole December 22, 2018

My dearest [name],

Four Christmases! It almost sounds like a movie. By now all of the usual Christmas routine must be old hat for you. You know all the steps: hang your stocking, put up a tree, deck the halls, leave out cookies and milk (or oranges!), open presents, roller skate to church at midnight, all of it! (My apprentice Pete, who is an expert in all things Christmas, is reading over my shoulder and he says I am mistaken about that last one, with the rollerskating. He says that is what they do in Venezuela, which is a country in South America, and not something they do in [state]. My mistake! I have so many children to take care of that sometimes it is hard to remember what they like to do at Christmas. Rollerskating sounds fun, though.)

I hope you have had a good year and are excited about Christmas. I will do my best to fill your stocking and your Christmas tree with all the things you want this year, because you have, as always, been very good. If I make a mistake, however, and you get something you don't want, like a jar full of dirty socks or a doll that makes stinky burps in your face, that is because it has been a very strange year this year here at the North Pole.

We don't get many uninvited guests here at the True North Pole. For one thing, it's very hard to find. Many people use the wrong map or compass and end up at places that they call the Magnetic North Pole or the Geographic North Pole. Those places don't even really have a pole! Ridiculous. If you really want to find the True North Pole, with my workshop and the real red and white striped pole, you have to know where to look. All children know in their hearts where the True North Pole is; most adults have forgotten.

To really find your way here, you must pass through the Riphean Mountains, which are also hard to find on most maps. Some people come to the Riphean Mountains because they have heard they are full of gold. This is true; the mountains themselves are full of gold that could be mined, but the caves within are also full of the vast hoards of gold that belong to our friends the griffins. Some of that gold is in the form of coins that come from us at the workshop. Did you know that for much of the year the antlers of our magic reindeer are covered in gold? It's true; it's been that way since the time of their oldest ancestor thousands of years ago. But they shed the gold casing before Christmas and that's why you don't usually see them that way. We take the gold that they shed and turn it into coins, some of which we give to Lunicursor, the king of the griffins, partly as a show of friendship, and partly to repay him for the service he does for us in bringing us broken toys he finds while flying around so that we can repair them and find new homes for them.

Anyway, gold hunters who make their way to the Riphean Mountains will find that it is very dangerous, not only because of the many griffins who make their home there, but also due to the one-eyed monsters who are constantly at war with the griffins for the gold. The sight of either a giant, greedy one-eyed beast or a host of winged, beaked, taloned lions is usually enough to scare off even the most intrepid of treasure hunters, so as I said, we don't receive many unexpected visitors.

That's not to say we never get them, however. Did you know there is a Christmas dragon? Well, there is, but he's probably not what you would expect. He doesn't look much like the grand and scary dragons in storybooks. Instead this dragon, who is called the Badalisc, looks more like a very large and very long furry worm, with striped fur, two little horns like goat horns, glowing red eyes, and a very large chomping mouth. Normally he makes trouble for the people in a valley in northern Italy, but some years ago, he managed to make his way to the workshop. All woods in the world are connected if you know where to walk, so he must have found the right spot in his valley to emerge into the silver fir forest around the workshop. At any rate, he made us a great deal of trouble, chomping away at all our Christmas treats, but fortunately, as I said, my apprentice Pete knows all about Christmas, and so he knew how we could trap him.

The Badalisc, it turns out, can be lured out of hiding by beautiful women and entranced by music. The first duty was performed by Mrs. Claus and some of our braver elf women, who stood at various places around the forest until the Badalisc was found. Then Pete's younger brother Music Pete played a tune on a pipe and drum that hypnotized the great beast. Once the dragon was frozen place, the Krampus and some of the other friendly monsters who live up here were able to wrestle him to the ground and tie him up.

One of the things the Badalisc does at Christmas back in his Italian valley is compose a poem that says mean things about everyone in the village and hurts their feelings. He tried to do that to us, but as it happens, we have our own master poet here named Rhyme Pete (all of Pete's brothers are also named Pete) who himself wrote a poem about how the dragon was hurting other people's feelings and that he needed to be more considerate. The Badalisc felt ashamed after that, but to cheer him up and to show there were no hard feelings, Pete's brother Chef Pete made the Badalisc a big bowl of his favorite food, salami and polenta (which is kind of like fancy grits, and very common in Italy). Afterwards, we had our friend the woodsman Belsnickel take the Badalisc back home.

That was a number of years ago, and things have mostly been fairly peaceful since. Not this year, though. This year we got far more than one unwanted guest. But before I tell you about that, however, I have to tell you about a very special tree.

Picture the biggest tree you've ever seen. Could you see the top of it? Did it stretch far into the sky? Did its branches reach far out over the ground, casting shadows, inviting you to climb? Well, picture a tree much, much bigger. A tree big enough that whole worlds could hang on it like Christmas ornaments. This is the World Tree, and in its branches rest the Nine Worlds. This is not the same as the nine planets, like Jupiter and Mars (Mrs. Claus is reading over my shoulder now and she says that there are only eight planets. My mistake! I don't visit other planets very frequently, though I have been to Mars a few times and I visit my friend the Man in the Moon as often as I can. Maybe if there turn out to be children on Neptune or Saturn, I'll send Pete out there to deliver gifts. I think he'd like that), but rather other realms where different magical creatures live. The Nine Worlds include the Giants' Home, the Light Elves' Home, the Dark Elves' Home (where our workshop elves come from), the World of Mist, the World of Fire, and, of course, Earth, where we live.

The branch of the World Tree that holds up the Earth runs right through the center of the planet like the top and bottom of a globe, and the tip of it pokes out at the very top, the true top, of the world. This is what we have carved and painted into the shape and color of the famous North Pole. The other thing you need to know about the World Tree is that at the base of it is a whole army of little gremlins who spend most of the year trying to cut the World Tree down, hoping to destroy all Nine Worlds.

Normally what happens is that on the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, these gremlins make their way up to Greece and make trouble for all of the twelve days of Christmas. They will climb into people's homes through the chimney and start breaking furniture, or gobbling up Christmas dinner, or spitting in food, and just generally scaring the people inside. Sometimes they will jump on a person's back and make them dance until they get really tired. They are, as you can see, very bothersome pests to have around.

Well, this year, instead of going to Greece, some of these gremlins decided to climb up the World Tree to see what they could find. Coming to the very tip of the branch that holds the Earth, they came out at the North Pole, and very soon we had a problem. They had made their way into the workshop and were breaking toys and decorations and eating all the delicious cookies and candies we were making for good children. Even the Krampus and the other friendly beasts weren't of much use against them. Although our furry friends are quite large, strong, and fearsome, all their strength was no good against these swarms of scurrying imps that they couldn't catch. We were very worried, because if they had made their way down into the elves' toy factory, they could have done damage to the powerful forges we have down there, which are fueled by very potent energy from within the Earth. If the forges had been damaged, they might have exploded, destroying the whole workshop! We would have had to rebuild and we might not have had Christmas until July or August, which I think we can agree is far too late to have Christmas. (You might have heard of Christmas in July, but usually that's in addition to regular Christmas, not instead of it.)

Fortunately, the gremlins never made their way to the forges, because we have Pete, expert in all things Christmas. He knew that the gremlins could be distracted by their love of counting, so the elves offered them all the counting toys they could find or quickly cobble together. Unfortunately, usually the goal of this is to distract the gremlins until the sun comes up and they turn to stone, and at this time of year the sun doesn't come up at all at the North Pole! We needed another solution. People in Greece often drive off the gremlins by putting a special Christmas log in their fireplace and burning it. The gremlins can't stand the smell, so they run away. I don't know much about the special plants of Christmas, but fortunately I don't have to, because that is the specialty of my wonderful and brilliant wife, Mrs. Claus. She knew exactly the kind of wood we would need, and soon every fireplace in the workshop was smoking away with these logs that the gremlins hate, which sent them scrambling.

In Greece, the way they finally make these gremlins go away after the twelve days of Christmas is that the local priest will bless the water in the rivers, ponds, springs, and so on all around. The gremlins cannot stand the blessed water, and so they will flee back to the World Tree. There aren't any rivers or lakes at the North Pole, but there is very very much snow, which as you know is just made of frozen water. I was able to take my old bishop's staff from my time as Saint Nicholas and bless all the snow from here to the Riphean Mountains. This sent all the gremlins scurrying like they had burned their hands on the stove back down the World Tree. Hopefully by the time they get back down to the trunk, the tree will have fully healed itself and they'll have to begin their chopping all over again.

And so, as I said before, if you get something very strange for Christmas, like a doll with three arms and no head, this is likely the handiwork of gremlins, who we just drove out yesterday. We only have a few days to get everything right, so I hope you get everything you want. However, if what you want for Christmas is to have a wonderful family who loves and cares for you very much, I can promise you that you will have that this and every Christmas without fail.

See you soon!

Your dear friend, Santa Claus