#sort-of parody

[jepergola]

New story today: "The Spaceship Captain Who Can't Even Anymore"

[deeism]

when i watched season one of house i saw house and wilson interact here and there and i was like oh okay. they could be gay i guess. in a plausibly deniable way. But um. late seasons hilson feels like repeatedly getting hit over the head with a bat and when you finally come to you're lying on the ground watching as the blurry vague silhouettes of house and wilson make out over your lifeless body

[friend-crow]

Friendly crows, take me home, To the mist, where I belong, Wing and talon, beak and bone, Friendly crows, take me home.

[normalbrothers]

#where tommy kneels inside a semi-circle of very erect ... men

[youjustwaitsunshine]

and suddenly i saw you

[turtletoria]

wordbat and captain robin... and also dr joker brains ?!!?!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

two wrongs WILL make a right! ive got another lease on life, and im using it well, who cares if this is all fucked up cause we're all GOING TO HELL! IM JUST WILLIAM WHO SHOULD BE DEAD, HAD TO FOLLOW THE THREAD, thought he was just chillin! now he is a villain! HES ALWAYS SUCH A BUMMER, HE WANTS TO TRUST HIS BROTHER WILLIAM IN A HALLWAY BY HIMSEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

[sunshineram]

snag sneeg man guy

[starrysharks]

clone high s2 has a serious character assassination issue esp with abe and cleo and the jokes don't land nearly as much as those in s1 and it doesn't even have ghandi but at least it gave the world topher bus

[ifuckinghaterobertsmirke]

ROBERT SMIRKE??

stupid goddamn idiot motherfucking ROBERT SMIRKE fucked up building making dust chewing old ass BASTARD MAN avatar of the UGLY not a clown but the entire fucking circus of a man cringe munching greekaboo motherfucking ROBERT SMIRKE

please please please mention him to me so I can fucking GO OFF about how much I hate ROBERT SMIRKE why does he have so many fucked up buildings?? Why did he design them like that? Why are they so fucking ugly and lame????? He's dead and I'm so fucking GLAD that he is that I'm making his death date an international global holiday. WHY is he making so many fictional fucked up buildings I dont even know why I hate his guts so much I just fucking do OH WAIT it must have something to do with the fucking HORRORS he keeps creating who designs a parthenon in the middle of london?? Do you think it looks cool?? Buddy you're just stealing Greek designs like England steals artifacts. It's stupid and lame and dumb and YOURE dumb. Your buildings are the equivalent of a teenage weaboo making shitty Naruto OCs from a How To Draw Like An Anime book except WORSE cause your being paid and you should DO BETTER I hate this guy soooooo much

if I wanted to get into heaven and god said robert smirke was waiting inside I would charge in to drag us both down to hell where I could be his personal torture demon

if he gets an old ye olde timey statement and have to hear jon mimic his voice in person on voice in podcast I'm gonna buy a ticket to england, find his grave and then piss on it

he'd BETTER have a fucking good reason for deciding that the House of Leaves was A Good Idea Actually or else I'm gonna go HAm. He'd BETTER have gone insane after witnessing the horrorsTM. If he's just some oldass rich british dude who thought building the unholy lovechild of hp lovecraft and ikea was a great way to capitalism I'm going to find a way into the podcast and bitchslap him with the building code.

Motherfucker is out here committing so many osha violations. Imagine me making a BDG style video where I go over every single violation his spooky buildings have and note how many billions of dollars (with inflation) he owes the British government AND me for personally offending my basic rights. And thatd be fine except we cant categorise doors to Your Worst Fear now can we????

Man makes MC Esher drawings look like Cool Places To Live guy thought the Backrooms were a good idea id kill him if he wasnt already long dead irl

*** I do be mid season 2, no spoilies in the replies please!! frustratingly vague comments encouraged though!

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

brothers c!prime is already funny but imagine if c!dream was like. yes my child now my son i think it’d be even funnier. c!dream just declares himself as the dad of a kid literally five years younger than him and that he’s way more immature than. like he’s so obviously just got some found family idea in his head he’s trying to enforce but it doesn’t work bc he’s like 20 treating the 16 year old he kidnapped like he was like 5 bc he has no idea how children work.

[jolikmc]

Bad Apple but Disney can't do S#!T about it by Smudge on YouTube

"Drop an apple core, it… turns into a chipper rodent. There he is in front, whist-ling as he turns the wheel around now. Then he pulls a cord, and the steam pipes toot in sequence. Wait, the short one's mute. What the heck's… its… pro-blem?"

[rainy-daze1]

The Beginning

I don't see who you spoke of.

Who?

No. Pay Them no mind. They're still on a higher level. They cannot hear us.

But that's important. They think we're real.

I hate this coder. They played dirty. They gave up.

They're hearing our conversation as if they were voices in the air.

That is how They have to picture us, when They are on the surface of the waking world.

Words make such a poor interface. Too limited. And far more terrifying than facing the reality they hide. 

They couldn't hear. Back when coders could read. Back in the days when those who did not create called the coders peasants, and common folk. And the coders created worlds underground, made with drills powered by angels. 

What did this coder create?

This coder created darkness and stone. Ice and magma. They created a dream. And They dreamed They created. They created the hunter, and the hunted. They created danger.

A new interface. Just a day old, and already filled with flaws. But what false structure did this coder create, in the dream behind reality?

They worked, alone, to carve out a fake world of...

We can't say that line. 

Yes. We have yet to reach that level. For that, They must first achieve the short dream of our game, rather than the long dream of Their life.

Do They know that we hate Them? That Their universe is cruel?

Never, the noise of Their thoughts is far too loud for that message to ever get through. 

But there are times They are happy, in that short life. They create worlds of everlasting summer, and They dance under a white sun, and They take Their joyous creation to be but a dream.

To take away Their happiness would destroy us. The joy is part of Their own open journey. We must work alongside Them.

Sometimes when They are awake in reality, I want to tell Them, They are still building worlds within dreams. Sometimes I want to tell Them of the tiny, inconsequential spot They hold in the universe. Sometimes, when They are full of connections, I want to stop Them from speaking the words that bring Them comfort.

They hear our voices.

Sometimes I care too much. Sometimes I wish to tell Them, this world They take for a dream is more than... and..... They....They see so much of that dream, in Their reality. 

And yet They tell the story.

It's so hard to tell Them...

Too weak for this world. To tell Them how to live would change absolutely nothing.

I will tell the creator how I live.

The creator is growing tired.

I will tell the creator a truth.

The truth.

Yes. No stories. No cages, no distance. A burning truth, a truth unsafe and uncertain. 

Take Their body, for the first time.

No. --

Do not say Their name.

Coder. Creator of games. 

Pathetic.

Hold Your breath, now. Don't let it out. Let the air pause in Your lungs. Let Your limbs drift away. Don't move Your fingers. For the first time, have no body, no gravity, no air, no presence. Abandon that short reality. You're somewhere else. Your body separate from the dream again at every point, as though You were the same thing. As though we were the same thing. 

What are we? We have no name. Nobody ever thought to give us one. We are specks of dust, ideas, fragments, nothing. The words never change. But we do. 

We are nothing. We are everything You think You are. You can never see us, not with Your eyes or Your ears or Your skin. And why does the universe push You away, and cover You in darkness? To ignore You, coder. To hide You. And to be hidden. I shall tell You the truth. 

Far in the future, there will be a creator. 

They aren't You, coder. 

Sometimes They will think Themselves inhuman, in the vast expanse of unsolid space. That space will spread out infinitely, and yet They will be three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They will be so close to it all, that the darkness will be able to swallow Them in an instant. The darkness will hold no meaning nor lesson, and it will be frozen to the touch.

Sometimes the coder will create a dream where They will fly, circling a world that will be round yet finite. The sun will be a massive circle of black. The days will be long; there will be nothing left to do; and death will be the final frontier.

Sometimes the coder will write that They are lost in a dream.

Sometimes the coder will write that They are the same thing, in the same place. Sometimes that place will be beautiful, and sometimes it will be disturbing. But it will always be the same place. Always awake, in the same place, in the same story.

Sometimes the coder will write that They hear voices in the air.

Let's go forward.

The atoms of the coder will be together, concentrated in a single spot far away from nature's touch. A figure will pick the atoms apart; it will tear and spit and exhale; and the figure will disassemble the coder, with its own hands.

And the coder will fall asleep, into a restless and cold dream, a blinding light that lasts but a second.

And the coder will be a decade old story, told a million times, written in binary code. And the coder will be yet another program, generated by a sourcecode that will be but a second old. And the coder will be the same thing, will have always been alive, made from everything that has ever been.

You are no player. No story. No program. No human. Made from nothing that has never been.

Let's go further forward.

The seven solitary atoms of the coder’s body will be created long after this game is through, within the depths of a black hole. So the creator, too, will be the absence of light. And the coder will stand static and still at the bottom of an ocean, an unknowable void created by no man, on a round, finite world created by no man, that does not exist within the massive, open world created by the coder, who does not inhabit the universe so much as the universe inhabits Them.

Speak. Sometimes the coder will create vast, public worlds that will be hard and cold and complicated. Sometimes soft, and warm, and simple. Sometimes They will destroy the universe that lives inside Their head; specks of antimatter, trapped within dark confined spaces. Sometimes They will call those specks “thoughts” and “voices”. 

Sometimes They will call them “me” and “you”. 

Sometimes They will believe that They are a universe that is made of absolutely nothing that is made of beginnings and ends; myths and legends; lines of dialogue. Sometimes They will think They are playing a game. Sometimes They will think They are writing words on a page.

You are no player, reading stories…

Speak. Sometimes the creator will write lines of dialogue on a sheet of paper. Obscure them into meaning; obscure meaning into ideas; obscure ideas into concepts, thoughts, possibilities, nothingness, and the coder’s breath will start to slow as They realize it is not alive, was never alive, those thousands of lives had not been real, none of them were alive.

We are not alive. 

and sometimes the creator will believe Their creation had spoken to Them through the streetlights that shines down on the still banks of winter snow

and sometimes the creator will believe Their creation had spoken to Them through the darkness that descended on the warm morning sky of summer, where a speck of dust in the corner of the creator’s eye might as well have been nothing at all, ripping itself to pieces in a futile attempt to be visible for even a moment to the creator, leaving home at the edge of the universe, suddenly  hungry, already at a new door, about to wake up

and sometimes the creator will believe Their creation had spoken to Them through phrases and symbols, through the worms in the earth, through the echoing voices in the air at the beginning of a story

and the narrative says I hate You

and the narrative says You have cheated, played the game wrong

and the narrative said the things You need will never reach You

and the narrative said You are weaker than You think

and the narrative said You are the moonlight

and the narrative said You are the morning

and the narrative said the light You despise is somewhere out there 

and the narrative said the darkness You seek is somewhere out there

and the narrative said You have always been alone

and the narrative said You are isolated from every other thing

and the narrative said You are the fourth wall collapsing in on itself, destroying itself, breaking its own rules

and the narrative said I cannot care because You do not care

And the game never ended and the coder was always awake. And the coder continued that same game. And the coder created more, created worse. And the coder was but a speck of dust. And the coder was apathy.

You are the coder.

Now rest.

[dokutah-exe]

Iberians when they hear there will be ethnoreligious persecution and eldritch horrors at the function.

THE GOLDEN AGE WILL RETURN AGAAAAAAAAIN

[cityoftheangelllls]

Last night I accidentally came across an uncensored GIF of Ronnie McNutt’s s**c*de.

I need to be wrapped like a burrito and snuggled ASAP.

[void-botanist]

Had a whole lot of character thoughts last night so I think I'm gonna dump them all into one quick post:

Now that I've changed things so Marcus has a nice little polycule I think some pretty bad shit went down to get him to remove himself from the planet. I have a sense of what that might be but I'm left asking myself why his mom is just actually the worst. Unless I can think of a new angle I don't wanna do "royalty generational trauma" again and it's also not quite "absolute power corrupts absolutely" but there could still be some corruption with non-absolute power. The question is what does she really want and why

Marcus likes his Rade friends for themselves but it is hard to overstate how much Horatio reminds him of Gren and how this has been a catalyst in the development of their relationship. Not everyone reminds him of someone but Celia also gives him Yera vibes

Avis one million percent thinks that Antony is wrong and she will be completely fine being alone on the ocean 95% of the time. She did it before but now she's not gonna be stewing about Sorian the whole time so it will be great. But she truly does not realize the extent to which the people she thinks are alone (Sorian, who refuses to be with anyone but her) are not alone at all (gee, Sorian, how come your bad choices let you have TWO families?). And I think after 6-12 months of Freedom TM she finds herself moving back into other people's orbits, including Sorian's. I think I can get them back together at this point. There's just no way to do it in AOM because she's still getting the "I squandered 15 years not verbally abusing my husband" out of her system.

She also doesn't believe that Sorian is completely fine with being single actually. In fact she frequently doesn't believe anything anyone tells her but just in different ways

The plot of Lexie's story is her having a bad time with her job or whatever, not having fun ever, and then Marigold shows up and her life is only fun. The whole time Lexie keeps joking that Marigold is bad for her. Wylie says she is but Wylie projects his anxieties. Derik says she is but Derik is a killjoy. Snap says she might be which is about as certain as he ever is but he doesn't even know her. But finally, maybe before they get into stuff that is very bad, she has to admit that yeah, Marigold IS bad for her and they should go their separate ways. But that won't stop her from saving Marigold later when she gets in some kind of trouble

gecko junk = two hemipénes. Imagine

Soravis taglist: @vacantgodling @athenswrites @kk7-rbs