#this was said by someone on discord and immediately after everyone was like ‘you are Linhardt’

[sleekswosobession]

you are broken on the floor

alexia putellas x keeper!reader

overview: goalkeeping means sacrificing your body, how far would you go?

A/N: i feel rlly sad so i got the discord to come up with ideas (thanks @totaly-obsessed + @alotofpockets)

TW: Blood, Severe Injury, Brutal Angst

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

Ever since a child, you loved the feeling of saving footballs. If any of the teams you were on needed someone in goals you'd be the first the volunteer, along the way you actually got good at it and eventually signed with Barcelona in 2021, making good friends along the way.

Along with joining Barça, it came with getting a girlfriend. Who was the best person you'd ever had in your life romantically.

Being a keeper in the best club would always mean injuries, trying to keep a clean sheet like any defensive player wants.

Sometimes though, injuries are worse. Life threatening in some cases, career ending in others. It's something no player even wishes upon their most rivalled team.

You just had to be unlucky didn't you?

Barcelona were comfortably winning against Frankfurt 3-0, when a gap in defense allows a German player to make their strike. You fall back onto the line hoping the punch the ball away.

Seems like life has other plans.

The player shoots left, you dive left and push the ball away. However with being airborne, you can’t stop. Your body crashes into the post with a loud thud.

The stadium goes quiet, your screams and cries horrific. Your body looks… wrong.

Your collarbone isn’t straight, it’s indescribable. Bones are poking out. There’s blood running down your face where your head has cracked open after hitting the post.

It’s sickening to watch.

Players immediately rush over, forming a circle around you as to not show a fellow player in such vulnerable state.

Alexia is by your side trying to comfort you, trying to keep you still. Seeing you in this much pain makes her heart ache. If she could take it all, she would.

Paramedics are by your side instantly as the circle of players back up to give them space to work, Alexia sits helplessly watching you worm in pain.

After quick testing to make sure you were still alive and conscious, they get you on the stretcher. Which includes more screaming, and more pain.

Alexia watches as you get taken off the field in a hurry, fans of both teams clap and give you a standing ovation.

“Alexia, she’s strong. Let’s finish and win this game for her yeah?” Mapi pats her best friends back, also devastated at the turn on events.

“Ye- yeah.” The captains broken voice says.

- - - - -

As the rest of the minutes in the game are being played, you’re fighting for your life in the back of an ambulance.

The pain getting unbearable, you find yourself slowly slipping in and out of consciousness. Paramedics are doing things around you, but your eyes are too glossy to really tell. Your mind is also too fuzzy to think straight.

There is one thing you want, Ale. But, with everything? You wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve ruined some of your vocal cords from screaming so loud.

Soon enough, you succumb to the darkness. Letting it engulf you to a place less ridden in pain and chaos.

- - - - -

The game is over, an unspoken heaviness in the air surrounding both teams. There is little interaction with fans, whom luckily understand the pain the players must be feeling at the time.

Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid get in the Norwegian’s car and drive straight to the hospital where the medical team said you were going to.

When arriving, Ingrid drops Alexia and Mapi before parking, understanding they need each other. You were important to everyone, but Mapi was like your sister and Ale was obviously your girlfriend.

They rush inside, talking quickly to the nurse at reception who gives them sorry smiles, updating them all that she could. Which was that you were alive and in emergency surgery.

They don’t argue, it’s pointless. So they sit down on uncomfortable plastic chairs, playing a waiting game until you were coherent and safe.

- - - - -

4 hours and many freak out sessions later, a doctor walks over to the three girls explaining the situation you’re in.

“It’s a grade 2 concussion to her head, in cases like these there is chance for memory loss. I believe she has all her memory, we were talking about different things before I came here. It’s a high possibility that she has no memories from the accident though.” He pauses before continuing.

“She experienced a dislocated collarbone. We’ve put it back in its original place, recovery could take 1 year and she might never be to the level she was at currently again. We had to do work on surrounding ligaments which makes the recovery time longer.” The girls take in the information.

“Have you told her she won’t play for a while?” Ingrid asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“I did, she was upset in her own right. If that is all your questions, she has her own room. I believe you all know concussion protocol?” They nod.

“Ok, room 3146. If you need anything at all just shout.”

“Gracias, for everything you’ve done.” The doctor smiles at Alexia.

“No problem.”

- - - - -

When reaching the room, the 3 Barça players see your state, a gauze wrapped around your head and a large cast across your torso, restricting movement.

“Amor?” Alexia asks cautiously.

“Hi Ale.” You look at the other two. “Mapi, Ingrid, nice to see you.”

Alexia sits by the chair on the side of your bed, looking up with teary eyes.

“Please, please don’t ever do that again.” She sobs, cradling your face softly. “I can’t- I can’t lose you.”

“Ale, you’ve got me. I’m right here, please don’t cry amor. Por favor.” You look over to the other two in the room, smiling softly.

She takes a couple minutes to settle down and finally talk.

“Have you heard about your recovery?”

“Sí” You watch her sigh, tracing patterns over your hand.

“Lo siento, but I’ll be with you the whole way ok? I promise.” She says without an inch of hesitation in her voice.

“Te amo mucho Ale. That means so much more than you could ever know.” She responds by leaving a lingering kiss against your hand.

“I’m glad you’re ok. Had as all worried.” Ingrid smiles lightly.

“Yeah.. I don’t remember much about what happened. I might later on but for now I’m content without the memories.” She laughs.

“Well, all of the culers and people at Barça wish you a safe and great recovery. Even if the doctor hasn’t said it, you’ll come back stronger I know it.”

“Thanks Maps, I think I stay in the hospital for a few more days then I’m clear to go home. I have to wear this for like 6 weeks then start the strengthening physio whatever.”

“Ah, can’t wait to see you on the pitch again then amiga. Well, Ingrid and I will leave you and Ale to talk on your own. If you ever need funny company instead of serious company I am always here.” You hold onto your laugh smirking.

“Alright León, keep it moving.” You joke back and watch the couple leave.

You think back to what recovery is going to be like. A very long journey. It seems your girlfriend notices your thoughts.

“Shh, you’ll be fine and as Mapi said you’ll come back better.”

“Thanks Ale.” She leans over and presses a kiss to your lips softly.

- - - - -

The next few weeks are tough, you feel as though you’re useless. Alexia has all this stuff on her plate already and you’re just another one. However she is always quick to shut those thoughts down. No matter how moody, or how angry you got at her. She stayed, just like she promised she would.

Who knows what the future holds, maybe something, maybe nothing. What does matter though? Is who you go there with. For you it’s Ale. It will always be Alexia.

—————————————————————————

PART 2 - here

also i did say i was sick now i’m feeling better.. physically (not mentally since i just wrote this fic)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for triggering someone’s epilepsy (unknowingly)?

So I’m (19F) in this relatively small Discord server for a fandom. We occasionally get new members but there’s always been a “core” group of 7 of us who started it originally. We’re pretty close and consider each other genuine online friends, and we all admin the server.

A couple weeks ago, a new member (?M) who I’ll call K joined and I immediately felt a little sketched out by him because in his Discord profile in the pronouns section he put “goon/gooner.” I’m cis but I worried for the rest of the server (mostly trans), though they either didn’t see it or didn’t point it out. K seemed okay, he wasn’t very active other than reacting to stuff with emojis so he faded into the background and didn’t really bother me.

So we have a channel in the server for holiday stuff and yesterday one of the admins sent something for the first day of Hanukkah (the 8th) and pinged everyone. The last message above that was about Transgender Day of Remembrance (the 20th of November, before K joined) and after getting pinged for the new one I guess K saw that because he suddenly replied to one of the articles (about a trans boy-to-girl getting murdered) and said “rip king, sorry to see a brother go down.” It was very obvious in the article’s thumbnail that the teenager murdered was a girl, and it said she was trans in the title.

I was livid. Most of my friends are trans and I would (metaphorically) die defending them. I was too angry to write an actual response so I just sent a GIF (the “You should kill yourself now” one with the guy with white eyes and lightning flashing in the background, except it was sped up). K didn’t reply and another admin deleted his message and I wanted him banned, but they said we should wait for K to reply and give him the benefit of the doubt in case he was mistaken or misread it.

K started spamming in our general channel about half an hour later, super mad and saying stuff like “FUCK YOU YOU [R-SLUR] YOU MADE ME HAVE A FUCKING SEIZURE I HAVE EPILEPSY YOU DIPSHIT” and was just basically saying variations of that over and over until we kicked him. Apparently K had mentioned his epilepsy at one point but I don’t remember it ?? An admin pulled up a message though (his intro) where he listed it.

The other main 6 admins are very conflicted on this, but they mostly seem to think I’m an asshole and a couple of them have even unfriended me. I would be the asshole if I knew about K’s epilepsy, but I shouldn’t be expected to read every single message sent in the server, and honestly K took the risk of being on the internet where there are tons of flashing images, and I’m pretty sure there are accessibility settings you can have on Discord and your computer in general. Plus, K was being transphobic, and I was very angry and didn’t respond well. The others said I could’ve put a flash warning or something, but I wasn't thinking straight in the moment.

So, is this a NTA, JAH, or ESH? Because K was definitely an asshole too, even if he had epilepsy. I don’t know, the situation is complicated and he could be lying, so.

What are these acronyms?

[wavypotatochips]

𝑺𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓 | 𝑵𝒆𝒚𝒎𝒂𝒓 𝑱𝒓.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : Neymar Jr x Female reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : You are an upcoming Call of Duty streamer that's ends up in a private lobby match with Neymar. During the match, you constantly kill him with his own operator skin. He gets upset and decides to message you.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 1.9𝘬

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: This is my FIRST time writing an imagine and I am currently learning a 3rd language so I apologize if my grammar is horrible-my brain is frying lol c': If you guys would like a part 2 pls interact!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ♥

You are an upcoming Twitch streamer who has around 8,000

subscribers, streaming Call of Duty Modern Warfare II on a Friday

night- very typical for someone like you. You were playing with

another streamer at the time; she was a good friend from college and

had more subscribers (about 500k) than you had. She is the one who

suggested that since you have always been a gamer, you try your

hand at being a streamer. While your friend Jocey, a fellow Twitch

streamer, left to get a drink, you were considering which operator to

get by looking through the storefront within the game. "Okay chat

which skin should I purchase?" The 4,560 viewers of the livestream

immediately started spamming the chatroom with "Messi" or

"Neymar Jr.", which wasn't much assistance because so many people

said one or the other that it was impossible to determine which one

was most popular. "Well, that wasn't much help, now was it?" you

chuckle. Leaning closer to the monitor as you modify your position

on your gaming chair, you try to decide which one you like. You click

to make the purchase while muttering to yourself. "I guess I'll

choose Neymar for the time being and get Messi afterwards." Even

though you didn't know much about Messi or Neymar, you were

aware that they were two of the best three football players in the

world. Once more you glance over at the chatroom and read, "Why

don't I just buy both? Since I spend most of my money on new video

games, I really can't afford to buy both." Jocey's voice may be heard

briefly through the microphone saying, "Yeah, you totally didn't

spend your money on going to a concert." "Alright, maybe that was it

too." You click on the game invitation she sent you and muttered. You

inquire, raising an eyebrow, "Search and Destroy?" She answers

swiftly, “Another streamer wanted to host a  search and destroy

lobby, is that okay? If not, we can go back to doing our own thing.”

You're not bothered at all. Call of Duty's Search and Destroy game

mode calls for 4-6 players per squad. While the other team works to

defuse it, one team must plant a bomb at the explosive site. Every

player only has one life. By successfully defusing the bomb,

successfully placing the bomb, or being the last team standing, you

can win the game. “No it's fine no worries… I'm ready to destroy all

these bitchesssss.” You stretch a little, crack your knuckles, and look

across at the other gamertags in the lobby not being able to make

out any of the names. To ensure that the squad can all join the party

together, Jocey says, "Okay, I'll provide you the discord connection."

While navigating to Discord to join the link and join the channel you

spotted, you nod your head despite the fact that she couldn't see

you. Jocey had entered with four other people already. Shortly after

the introductions, everyone turned their attention to the game.

Naturally, it wasn't a competition, but we didn't want to look bad in

front of our audience. The game shortly started and you were doing

decent as you were averaging at least 2-3 kills before dying. One

game suddenly became six which wasn't surprising as you can never

believe a gamer when they claim to be playing just one. You always

eliminate the player with the gamertag "Neigh" that was on the

opposite team in each game that was played. “ I just know this Neigh

person is pissed off.” The seventh and last game loads. With both

your team and the opposing squad each having three victories, the

game was now deadlocked. Jocey laughs and says, "Since this is the

last game, when we die we should leave the main chat so the ones

who are alive can concentrate." "Alright bet bet bet bet.” You

respond, the other guys in our party agreeing. As soon as the game

began, bodies began to fall from both teams; on your team, you and

Jocey were the only survivors. “Jocey if you die I will strangle you

myself.” You gripped the mouse firmly, feeling as though your heart

may jump out of your chest. How challenging can a 2v2 be? You

and Jocey have done this a lot of times. Before you can cheer, Jocey

dies. The Kill feed shows Jocey getting a kill, which made you joyful.

You bite your bottom lip when the game tells you that you are the last

one left alive, "Well chat, it's just you and me now, and let me tell you. Eu acredito que eu poderia cagar um tijolo agora ... Eu odeio ser o último vivo!" (I believe I could possibly shit a brick right now... I hate being the last one alive!)

As you searched the map for the last person, all you could hear was

silence. The game informs you that a bomb has been planted, and

you have 30 seconds to locate and neutralize it. One of the bomb

sites suddenly begins to glow. The only words that came out of your

mouth as you moved cautiously toward the explosives were "Fuck

fuck fuck fuck fuck." You watch the opponent stoop down and start

hardscoping the bomb location as you draw nearer, which makes you

grin evilly. They are unaware that you are directly behind them.

You make the decision to try Neymar Jr.'s execution move instead of

shooting them since he is the operator you are playing. When you are

close enough, you press the keyboard to start the execution by

catching the enemy. Neymar Jr. execution consisted of kicking the

opponent in the back of the leg, causing the opponent to fall to his

knees and then elevating his leg, kicking him hard in the face. As it

happens, you chuckle, and once he was dead, you hurried over to

defuse the explosives. You glance over at the chat room while using

the keyboard to disarm the explosives. “Quem quer que tenha sido a

última pessoa precisa excluir seu jogo.” (whoever that last person

was needs to delete their game)” As you read some of the messages,

you smile. When the game ended and your team was the victor, you

realized it was the "Neigh" individual you had slain yet again. “Sim, o

cavalo precisa ficar em um lugar de cavalos. Devo enviar-lhe

cenouras por correio?” (Yeah, the horse needs to stay in a horse's

place. Should I mail him carrots?) Even if you thought the joke was

humorous, you must admit that it was really corny. As you become

perplexed upon seeing your view account soar to over 200k viewers,

your laughter quickly comes to an end. “What the...?” You instantly

thought Jocey viewers were just raiding you (raiding= many viewers

join their livestream for a short amount of time), “Oh, ei Jocey, os

telespectadores gostaram disso? Apenas saiba que foi uma

embreagem rara e é mais do que provável que eu não possa fazer

isso novamente haha” (Oh hey Jocey viewers, did you like that?

Just know that it was a rare clutch and I will more than likely not be

able to do that again haha)  Little did you know that the person you

kept killing with the operator skin was the man himself, and he was

now observing you from the other side of the screen. Your stream

was open on his monitor allowing his viewers to see you, which

resulted in them searching you up themselves.

Neymar found it infuriating to keep dying by the same individual,

especially since it was his own operator. He had a small tantrum

every time he died, cursing towards his monitor and letting out

stressful sighs. Once the game was over he read his chat

noticing that someone had mentioned the identity of the Twitch

account that kept killing him, Smilingxo. “Smilingxo, eh? Vamos ver

quem eles são.” (Smilingxo, eh? Lets see who they are.)  He instantly

opens Twitch and types in the username, expecting to be greeted by

a male but to be astonished to see a female.  one that is also

appealing. He joined exactly at the time when you made fun of his

username,“Ela acabou de me chamar de cavalo?” (Did she just call

me a horse?) He laughs as he turns to his camera, “Vocês podem

acreditar nisto! Eu morri constantemente por ela... Eu sou tão ruim

neste jogo." Another sigh was released, " Isso me estressa.”(Can you

guys believe this! I constantly died by her… I am so bad at this

game. It stresses me out.) He takes one more look at you before

closing your channel. “Alright guys I'm gonna end it here and get

some rest.” He says to the chat, not bothering to join in the discord

channel that everyone was talking into-instead he just sent his

friend, the host, a text message. He yawns as he waves at the

camera, saying ‘Goodnight’ while ending the stream and beginning

to shut everything down. The sight of you continued to linger in his

mind. You were not only attractive to him, but seeing how good you

were at the game definitely made you get extra brownie points. With

him only seeing you for a few minutes, he couldn’t help but feel a bit

curious about you. Grabbing his phone once more, he looks back at

your twitch account to see if he could take another look at you. 

Meanwhile, since the viewers have been here, not all of them have

been polite; the majority of them were offended when you referred to

the username "Neigh" as a horse. You didn't believe them when they

said that Neymar Jr. was the user. Really, what are the chances that

you two are playing together?  “Mesmo que fosse Neymar, não tenho

culpa que seu nome de usuário me fizesse pensar que ele era um

cavalo.” (Even if it was Neymar it's not my fault his username made

me think he was a horse) you respond sarcastically while rolling your

eyes at the others comments. “There is no reason for y'all to be

acting this way over a practice match.” You mumble as you watch the

screen say you were disconnected from the match. When Jocey

returns to the channel you were in, you hear a tone through your

headphones. "Hey Y/N I believe everyone is leaving; do you want to

continue playing? Or are you also finished?"

“I think I'm done. Your viewers are starting to annoy me with this raid.

Why am I getting attacked because I kept killing the horse?”

“My viewers? What do you mean…. I am not raiding you?” She replies

back confused. “Nevermind. Yeah I'm gonna get off, I'll text you

tomorrow. Goodnight Jocey!” You wave your hand at the camera to

also say bye to the viewers, “ Sweet Dreams to the Smiling family

and to everyone that was being rude I hope you guys get

nightmares.” The broadcast was subsequently cut off, and your

computer was turned off. You sigh, realizing that you really shouldn't

have wasted your time arguing with the random chat users, but you

did so because you found it amusing that they were unhappy for the

wrong reasons. You shut down your computer and then get ready for

bed by taking a shower. When you are all set for bed, your lovely bed

beckons you, and you breathe a sigh of relaxation. You hear a "ding"

from your phone as you settle in and cuddle up under the blankets.

You sigh and sit up to grab it because you believe Jocey messaged

you. When a notification appears on your lockscreen, your eyes

widen and you cover your mouth with your free hand as you

immediately start to totally regret everything you said on video.

Instagram : NeymarJr wants to send you a message.

Edit : PART 2 POSTED!

[swissboyhisch]

Hughes Siblings Acquired

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Hughes!Reader

Summary: Somehow, the New Jersey Devils acquire a player who will fit in well on the team.

Word Count: 875

Warnings: trades.

A/N: It is more a Hughes Silbing fic with hints of Nico x Reader. Also an AU that takes place in the future sometime.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

It was a normal day, you were wandering the stadium taking pictures and working on stuff for the Devils’ social media sites. The boys were practicing on the ice. You could see your younger brothers, Jack and Luke, messing around with your partner. Not listening to the coach. 

“Hey, can you come down to the ice? There is an announcement about to be made for the team,” Your boss asks as he finds you in your office. 

“Sure…”

You follow behind him, down to ice level where you join your brothers on the ice amongst the team. Nico had wrapped his arms around you to keep you steady on the ice. Though he was sweaty. Majority of the coaching staff were there as well. Even the GM, Fitzy. To you, it seemed like no-one apart from Fitzy and Ruff knew what this whole thing was about. 

“As you know, it’s trade season–”

Most of the boys take a big breath. Hoping that they wouldn’t be receiving the news that someone they were close to would be traded. Nico’s grip had tightened. And from the corner of your eye, you could see your brothers gravitate closer to you two. Your little core group. Even Dawson who was on the other side of you shuffled his weight foot to foot. Nervous. Everyone was nervous. 

“As the deadline neared, we knew there was one person we had our eye on.” That usually meant one of your boys would be the exchange. A big player for a big player. “We have just confirmed a trade but we have someone who wants to announce it first.”

Fitzy pulled out his phone from behind his back. It seemed to already be on a call. “Do you wanna announce it?” He spoke to no-one in particular. 

“Four out of four Hughes siblings have been collected,” You could hear your twin’s voice speak from the other side of the line. 

Jack was the first to react. So similar to when he found out Luke would be joining him on his team. Even on skates, he was able to jump up and down. Celebrating. Luke was next to clue on. Immediately pulling you from Nico’s arms and wrapping his arms around you instead. The three younger Hughes siblings now have their protector coming home. To them.

“Huggy!” You grin, “You’re actually coming to Jersey?!”

“Yeah I am, Squirt.”

Silence from all the other players on the ice.

“Who’s leaving?” Dawson spoke up. He was only voicing everyone else’s thoughts.

Fitzy shook his head, “One of the AHL boys and a couple of high draft picks.”

With the confirmation none of the others would be leaving the team you called family, everyone started celebrating. Nico, who was secretly worried he would be the one who would be traded, joined you and your brothers celebrating. Over the years of your relationship, he had become family. Quinn was one of his closest friends. Probably because of how similar you two could be at times. 

“Who’s going to be the one to tell Mum and Dad?” Luke asks suddenly. 

“We can leave that to Quinn,” You reply. 

After the brief call and announcement, the boys went back to playing. You retreated to your office and pulled up Quinn’s phone contact. Despite being ecstatic your twin would be living in the same city as you and the others, he loved Vancouver and his team. Elias, Brock, Tito. They were some of his closest friends and he was being ripped away. 

“Hey,” You greet when he answers. 

Quinn sighs, he knew why you were calling. But he was glad it was you. “I’m doing okay.”

“Huggy, you’re being forced to leave your friends and the city you’ve called home since you were drafted.”

“I know.” He was silent on the other end of the call. “We’ve already told the boys and I’ve said goodbye to Elias and Brock.”

“Tito too?” You ask, knowing they had become close since the forward was traded. 

“Tito too.”

You smile softly to yourself, “If it’s any constellation, the boys are excited to have you here.”

“I’m excited to see you guys. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” You reply. A knock on the door made you look up from your desk. There stood a freshly showered Jack, Luke and Nico. “The boys are here.”

The three made their way to your side of the desk. Situating themselves on any surface they can while you put the call on speaker. Nico lifted you up from the chair, settling into it first then letting you sit on his lap. 

Luke leant forward, making sure he could be heard. “Can’t wait to see you Quinny.”

“You too Lukey,” He chuckles. 

“What about me?” Jack gasps. Overdramitcally like normal.

“Yes, you too Jackie-boy.” 

Nico didn’t want to intrude on the sibling time but he enjoyed listening to their jesting. With you in his lap, he was happy. Your family made him feel at home while being in the US. and Now the family was complete in New Jersey.

“We’ll see you tonight then Huggy,” You grin. 

“Will you pick me up?” Quinn asks you. 

“Always. Love you Quinn.”

“Love you too. Can’t wait to see you Squirt.”

TAG LIST:

@penny4yourthoughts @mp0625 @hischierhaze @jayrami3 @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[theredtours]

Pls spill the tea this is my new niche rabbit hole of knowledge

Anonymous: GIVE ME THE DETAILS BESTIE

Okay, so here's how it all went down, below the cut, because it's a lot:

A couple weeks ago, someone (assuming hiloy, as they're like the main character for the rest of this stuff) had played both All of the Girls and Need over a discord call. A sneaky second person then recorded said discord call and leaked bits of the songs to Twitter.

Cue the insanity. The leaks sent some people into a blind fury trying to find the rest of the song, while also simultaneously upsetting those who had been vaulting it. One such vaulter was, as previously mentioned, hiloy. They then took to a site for leaks and started trying to get a sale going.

Initially, they were trying to get an individual person to buy, but when the price was too astronomical, and after several days of back and forth, hiloy finally settled on allowing a group buy to happen. Now, I've never been part of a group buy before, so naturally, when I was sent a link to the discord server where it was all happening, I was intrigued. Here was my first glimpse at how the trading/selling world works. To stay in the server, everyone had to donate at least $5. The set goal was $2600, and that was going to purchase both "All of the Girls" and "Drama Queen."

Easy peasy, I thought. Man, I was wrong. The server blew up almost immediately, with people threatening the seller, demanding they leak other songs or get reported. Within a matter of hours, people had donated over $1k, and with that, hiloy leaked a small snippet of "Forever Winter," as a treat. Then, the server got nuked.

Thankfully, they had a backup. As soon as the back up was, well, back up, everyone was re-invited and the madness continued. In the middle of it all, "Forever Winter" leaked. While it wasn't true that it was hiloy who had leaked it, the person who did so did it under that name, so HUNDREDS of people flocked to the server to donate. The rest of us just ran with it, saying things like, "Yeah, they leaked it to prove that they have the goods." Was it dishonest? Yeah. But did it work?

Well, we hit the goal within I think like, 10-ish hours? So I'd say so. Everyone was cheering and partying it up in the group chat and then... right afterward, the server was nuked again. And so was the backup. And the backup backup. I then took to the leak site, and tried to get re-entry. I even messaged hiloy on twitter. Everyone just told me to wait for the leak. So overall, I was not impressed and felt pretty scammed. In all honesty though, I felt worse for the big donators. Someone had dropped almost $300 and then lost all access.

Fast forward to today, after a few days' silence (which I am told is pretty normal; transactions apparently usually get converted from funds to crypto), they just... Showed up on the leaks site. But the problem was, "All of the Girls" was not HQ, like it was promised. The backlash was almost immediate, with people calling out hiloy left and right for misinforming the server and trying to scam everyone out of their money. Hiloy then had the nerve to turn around and tell some of the donators that they should be grateful to have even received what they did.

And then all hell broke loose, again. See, the part I didn't tell you was that, provided all went well with this first group buy, hiloy was going to be selling off "Need" and "This is What You Came For (Demo)" to another group buy next. I guess this really unnerved someone else who had them, because basically right afterward, we got the second leak out of nowhere. My best guess was that they leaked "Need" and "TIWYCF" to keep hiloy from being able to make any more profit off those who just want the songs.

I'm sure I missed some of the drama, but that's honestly like the shortest summary I could give of it. It was absolute chaos. Wouldn't have missed it for the world, though.

[commander-krios]

Everything

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Rolan/Dammon Rating: Teen Summary: Rolan's had little time to himself since becoming the Master of Ramazith's Tower. Thankfully, he has friends willing to help him get a break. Words: 3924 Additional Tags: Gift Exchange, Tieflings, Romance, Love, Valentine's Day, Fluff, Post-Canon

Read on AO3

Elturel Tiefling Camp Discord Server Exchange treat for a few Dammon/Rolan lovers!

Rolan had begun taking his midafternoon meal breaks at the Elfsong Tavern, away from the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries. The first reason being it was quieter in the tavern during that time of the day, the majority of the inn’s guests sleeping off their nightly overindulgences while the rest made day trips into the city. The second reason was it made it more difficult for Cal to seek him out with questions about the mundane things, those things that could’ve waited the hour he took to eat and catch up on some reading. This was easier, simpler, and he could sit and ponder his own thoughts before trudging back to some disaster or another at the store.

When someone slipped into the unoccupied chair at his table, however, he was beginning to think that the Gods themselves were plotting against him.

“You look bored.”

Lakrissa watched him with a grin, pushing a glass of wine towards him. He eyed the drink suspiciously before glancing up at her, taking in the perfectly groomed ponytail that tumbled over her right shoulder, her chin propped in her hand, elbow on the table in an undisciplined manner.

“I didn’t order that.” Rolan said instead, ignoring her probing gaze to bury his nose in the book again. She didn’t take the hint, only nudged the glass closer to him. It was a bribe, he realized. For what, he had no idea. “What do you want, Lakrissa?”

She raised her eyebrows before a laugh escaped her lips. “Want? There’s nothing I want from you, mage-boy.”

“Then why-”

“Think of it as a thank you.” She reached into the little pouch on her side, pulling out a scroll, setting it on the table between them. 

Rolan stared at it, immediately recognizing the fancy calligraphy and stamp on the document. Swallowing nervously, he lifted the glass and drank deeply, refusing to be baited into the conversation. She had no proof it was him. The silence between them was tense, but when he finally returned the half finished wine to the table, he cleared his throat, glancing away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not stupid. You’re one of the only people who knew about the bard school. I figured it would be denied. Anti-tiefling sentiment is still high after all of this time, especially so soon after Elturel.” Lakrissa returned the scroll to her bag and replaced it with a hastily scribbled letter. Rolan knew Wyll Ravengard’s handwriting mainly from their recent correspondence. There was no mistaking it. “Wyll said you made a convincing argument about opening a school in a letter. His father approved it because of you.”

“I-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Rolan.” Lakrissa told him, securing the letter with the scroll once more. “You owed us nothing, but you helped anyway. So thank you.”

Rolan blushed, fingers trailing over the page of the tome in front of him. He liked Lakrissa, she was one of the only people who saw the reality of their situation from the start. Elturel, goblins, the shadow-cursed lands… and she continued on despite it all. Perhaps because of it all. Rolan had only made everyone’s lives more difficult with his ranting. But they’d still traveled with him and now he had the means to help everyone. He intended to use it.

But one thing he wasn’t expecting was sincere gratitude. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, his claws got caught in the strands of the hair loosened from his bun. “Uh, don’t mention it. Please, don’t tell anyone.”

At the pleading in his voice, Lakrissa grinned like a cat who caught the canary. Uh oh. “Oh, I won’t tell anybody. For a price.”

A groan slipped out and he buried his face in his hands. “Hells, what is it now?”

Lakrissa laughed, pouring another glass of Arabellan Dry. Then he watched through his fingers as she stood, tucking the chair back beneath the table. She glanced down at him thoughtfully, as if trying to best articulate what she wished to say. Or maybe she was trying to torture him more, he wouldn’t put that past her.

After a moment more, she sighed, waving towards the exit in the direction of Sorcerous Sundries. “Lia and Cal are worried about you.”

That was unexpected.

“Whatever for?” His hands dropped to the table and he had to resist the urge to grab the wine glass as a barrier against the uncomfortable thoughts that spun at the back of his mind. Worried? About him? All he ever did was worry about them, and now, they had everything they could’ve dreamed for. What was there to worry about?

“When was the last time you went out?”

Scrunching his nose in confusion, Rolan waved to their surroundings sarcastically. “What do you call this?”

“Hiding.” 

He scoffed in offense, but didn’t deny it. Because it was true in a way. He was hiding, mostly from Cal’s questions about the Sundries. “I was busy doing work before you so rudely interrupted me.”

“Oh, so rude of me to bring you wine.”

He rolled his eyes, noting her sarcasm but refusing to argue about something so stupid. She was being unusually nice today, but he figured she was as bored as he was, sitting here in the quiet tavern. If she wished to speak to him about something to alleviate that boredom, he’d gladly discuss wine, the latest novel, hells even the Gazette’s more recent gossip, but his personal life was not one of those things.

“How about this then?” She lifted the glass of wine and took a deep drink of it herself. Must’ve been a really slow day. “When was the last time you went out with Dammon?”

His blush deepened at the mention of the man who was… well, not quite his boyfriend, but something close enough. Digging his claws into the wood of the table, he caught the satisfied expression on Lakrissa’s face. She’d gotten under his skin and she knew it. “That’s none of your business.”

She let out a snort, refilling the wine one final time before setting it directly in front of him.

“Don’t you fret, mage-boy. Since you refuse to admit to doing something nice and taking the ‘thank you’ that comes with it, I’m going to find a way to thank you that you can’t refuse.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?”

“Think of it as a promise.” Ruffling his hair like he was one of the tiefling children, Lakrissa laughed when he reached up to knock her hands away in irritation. “And try to be less grumpy, Rolan. As much as it pains me to admit, you’re actually cute when you smile.”

Lakrissa waved before swiping the rest of the wine bottle from the table, leaving with his wild thoughts and burning cheeks. With one final look at the full wine glass beside his book, he pushed his chair back and made a quick exit, intending to put as much distance between him and the Elfsong as possible.

~~~~

“Alfira was here earlier.”

The next day immediately started off on the wrong foot. From the moment he’d woken up, a mischievous specter followed him, creating chaos everywhere he went. First, the lava elemental broke free of its compulsion, wandering outside and nearly setting a house on fire. Then, his projection started malfunctioning, and he had to stand at the desk for hours before Cal came down to relieve him. He’d also had to toss a few troublemaking kids out of the store for trying to steal one of Tolna’s books as a prank.

Gods, he still had a headache from the tongue lashing he’d gotten after.

And now he had to deal with this? It appeared Lakrissa wasn’t simply teasing him, after all.

Rolan glanced up from his accounting books, furrowing his brow at Cal’s words. There were very few reasons as to why the bard would show up at his store and he figured they all had to do with her girlfriend’s threat. “And? Did she say why she was here?”

“Yes.” Cal sauntered over to his desk before dropping a sealed envelope on top of his paperwork. “She left this.”

Rolan stared at the flowery pink paper envelope in concern. “And what is that?”

“Maybe you should open it and read it. It’s addressed to the ‘Master of the Tower’.” Cal sat beside the desk, putting his feet up on the edge. With a glare aimed in his brother’s direction, it only took a moment for Cal to get the hint and drop his feet back to the ground, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb. “I’m sure you already know what it says so please, enlighten me.”

Cal nodded, sitting up straighter and smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. “They’re throwing a party. For the bard school’s opening. Alfira said it would be a huge favor to her if you came.”

Of course she did. It’d been weeks since he’d done much else besides sit at this desk and update the ledgers for the store: the vault inventory, the supply inventory, the accounting. Lorroakan hadn’t kept any sort of organization for the entirety of his time as Master of the Tower. Rolan didn’t even know if he turned a profit or steadily lost money.

“I have so much left to do-”

“Come on, Rolan. You helped them get the deed to the building. The least you can do is show up and celebrate with them.” Cal dropped his voice, his expression softening significantly. “You should go, have some fun.”

“Does everyone know about that?” Rolan sighed, feeling the fight leave him at Cal’s grin. He never did things for himself, but Cal and Lia… if it meant that much to them, he’d do it even if he hated every second. “Fine. But the moment somebody decides that I need to give a toast because I helped, I’m leaving.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. No one is willing to stroke your ego. It’s big enough as it is.”

Rolan coughed to cover the laugh that threatened to expose him. “I think you need to spend time with someone who isn’t Lia.”

“You’re just mad because she’s right.”

Ignoring the barb, Rolan realized he hadn’t seen his sister all week. She hadn’t lived in the Tower for a few months now. The Flaming Fist barracks were comfortable enough and Lia refused to spend every quiet moment with her brothers (or so she said), but she at least visited on occasion. Strange.

“Where is Lia, anyway?”

“Oh, uh…” Cal rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes to the floor, pretending to study the intricate tiles. Rolan didn’t need to spell detect thoughts to know that his brother was running through a hundred different excuses for their sister, before choosing what was most believable. Whatever was next out of his mouth was going to be a lie. “She’s… working?”

“Are you asking me or is that your answer?” Rolan tapped his feather pen against the envelope, tempted to open it to see the words for himself. “Because last I remember, Lia works the overnight shift.”

“She’s picked up some extra work.” Cal rushed to explain, standing as if that would stop the interrogation. “Alfira mentioned Dammon would be there. If that changes things.”

“Oh?” He tried not to sound interested, but gods dammit, it’d been too long since they’d seen each other. Maybe a public appearance among drunken bards wouldn’t be as awful as he thought. If he managed to avoid the singing. “I might be able to squeeze in a quick word with everyone.”

He almost missed the smile on Cal’s face as he slipped out of the door. “Whatever you say, Rolan.” 

~~~~

The Elfsong Tavern was in chaos when he set foot inside. Drinks were poured freely, multiple bards were singing off key between hiccups, and others were guffawing and cheering along with the song. Or perhaps it was songs. None of the tunes were the same. Rolan spied Lakrissa near the bar, a glass of wine in each hand. She weaved through the crowd, a bright smile on her face as she watched the revelry. It was all a bit much for him, but he’d promised Lia that he’d make an effort to connect with the rest of the Elturel survivors.

He could do this.

“Rolan!” 

He turned as Alfira appeared at his side, and without warning, she threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly against her smaller form. Using her lute must’ve given her a set of strong biceps because for a brief moment, Rolan struggled for air. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you!”

She smelled suspiciously like a fruity wine and when she glanced up at him, Rolan immediately noticed her flushed cheeks. “Already drunk, hmm?”

Alfira giggled, nudging his arm as soon as she released her hold on him. “No, silly. I’m having fun. You do know what that is, correct?”

Lakrissa slid up next to them, holding out one of the glasses of wine towards him expectantly. When he only stared back, she raised an eyebrow before thrusting it into his hand. “Take it, dumbass.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“It’s your favorite.” Lakrissa said, handing the second glass to Alfira who took it happily. He slanted his eyes at her, immediately suspicious. “Drink up. Enjoy yourself. There are plenty of drinks to go around.”

He briefly considered asking her what her ploy was. She was definitely up to something, but decided an argument was a worse choice than simply drinking the wine. So, with a forced smile, he took a long sip, waiting for the inevitable hammer fall.

Rolan wanted to leave, these types of events always made him anxious about performing well enough to be considered ‘polite and stimulating company’, but this was their party and celebration. Even if he didn’t particularly enjoy being around all of these people, it wouldn’t be proper for him to rush off. The wine hit his tongue with its familiar woodsy flavor, the berry lingering as he swallowed it down. Lakrissa watched him intently, her mouth twitching into a smirk as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“If the crowd is a bit much, there are some fabulous views from the roof.” 

“Why would I-”

Slipping her arm around Alfira’s waist, she turned back to the party, glancing over her shoulder at him with a conspiratorial look. “You can thank me later.”

Once Alfira and Lakrissa blended into the crowd, the sudden desire to flee tickled his mind. It would be so easy to disappear, to return to the Tower and forget this entire night happened. He figured no one would even notice, too drunk and invested in the party to realize that a guest was missing.

But he hadn’t seen Dammon yet.

And despite everything he’d thought earlier, he really did want to see him tonight.

The best course of action would be to go to the rooftop where it would luckily be quieter and wait until Dammon either appeared or he didn’t. Then, he could slink off into the night with no one the wiser.

~~~~

The roof of the Elfsong was much quieter, though the rumble of the party could be heard beneath his feet. With a quick sweep of his gaze, he noted the cushions set up beneath a pergola and a small table with chairs off to the side. The air smelled strongly of flowers: roses, lavender, and fuchsia, a tantalizing combination that helped to ease the anxiety in his chest.

He breathed deeply of the cool night air, not cold enough to need additional layers, but enough to make him shiver slightly as a breeze loosened his hair from his bun. With a disgruntled sound, he attempted to gather the hair in his hands but the wind made it impossible. 

“Leave it. I like it down.”

His hands froze, the strands slipping from his fingers, and he turned, his darkvision making it easy to see what he’d missed during his first sweep of the area. A pair of piercing blue eyes ringed in gold, golden hair pulled into a bun over an undercut, and a set of familiar horns. 

His breath caught at the sight. “Dammon.” 

The tiefling blacksmith slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks, smiling up at him. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, the things he wore in his day to day work. No, tonight he looked comfortable in a pair of dark slacks and a loose tunic, tucked into his waistband. Simple, but effective and Rolan couldn’t stop from staring.

“Fancy seeing you at one of these parties. I didn’t think you ever left that Tower anymore.”

Rolan flushed, grateful for the darkness and the wind blowing the hair in front of his face, if only to hide his embarrassment. “Yes, well, things have been busy. Swamped, really.”

Dammon’s gaze trailed over his robes, one of the dressier ones from Facemaker’s, bought at a price that he’d balked at before Lia forced him to hand the coin over. But with how the other tiefling’s eyes flitted across his chest at the gleaming gemstones and down the length of the sleeves at the elaborate embroidering, Rolan knew it was worth it. If only to be admired by him.

“Glad you could pull yourself away.”

There was no judgment, no anger or disappointment, just Dammon being… Dammon. Kind, understanding, accepting. He turned to walk to the edge of the balcony, his face hidden in the shadows. 

Rolan followed without even realizing it. They stood, side by side, so close that Rolan could feel the warmth of his skin on his own. It wouldn’t take much to reach out, take his hand, perhaps press a kiss to the inside of his wrist.

“Lia’s been helping out at the forge.” Dammon’s admission pulled him from his thoughts. The blacksmith glanced down at the street below, watching as the people milled about, laughing and drinking and singing. The party was in full swing, yet here they were standing above it all, watching the city shed inhibitions and find joy in the mundane. They were safe, they were happy, and they were free. “She’s been trying to lighten my load so we could… have this.”

“Some time to ourselves without the crushing weight of responsibility?”

Dammon chuckled, leaning an arm against the banister, eyes on a fixed point in the distance. For a man who worked with weapons most of the day, there was something so soft about him. It’d taken Rolan too long to figure out what it was. His eyes. When Dammon looked at a person, he saw many things but the first and foremost was that he saw their soul. Not the facade they put up, but who they were beneath. At one time, it scared Rolan to be seen so deeply but now… now he craved the horrifying ordeal of being known by another person.

Of being known by this man in particular.

Rolan sighed as Cal’s sudden onslaught of questions, all in regards to the running of Sorcerous Sundries, began to make more sense. “It seems Cal was trying to do the same.”

The sounds of a lute and a lyre floated out of the windows of the Elfsong and people on the streets began to spin in a dance of wild limbs and stumbling feet, too drunk to do much else besides rocking back and forth or falling. The rest of the city stretched out ahead, lights flickering against a velvety black backdrop, the stars above burning as brightly as the streetlamps.

He didn’t know what possessed him. Maybe it was the Arabellan Dry still tingling on his tongue. Perhaps it was the beautiful sounds of Alfira’s lute from below. Or it could’ve very well been the fact that his family, his friends, the people who cared about him, had done so much to give him this peace. 

Rolan’s hand slipped into Dammon’s, noting how easily their fingers slotted together. 

He’d always wanted somewhere to call home. For years, it had been Cal and Lia and the little family they’d built out of the ashes of their lives. But the upheaval by the descent into Avernus, the difficult road traveled to Baldur’s Gate, Lorroakan and everything with the Netherbrain… he didn’t think he’d find happiness again, only pain.

He was grateful to be completely wrong.

“What are you-”

“Shh.” Rolan tilted his head to the side, nodding to the dancers below, a smile curling his lips. “Do you hear that?”

Dammon raised his eyebrows, amusement flitting across his features. “The music? It’s kind of difficult not to.”

“And what do people do when they hear music, Dammon?”

The blacksmith rolled his eyes, but his face softened more than Rolan thought was possible. He straightened, turning towards Rolan with expectation. “Why don’t you tell me? So I don’t get it wrong?”

Butterflies went to war in his stomach, but the challenge in Dammon’s eyes was intoxicating. He was going to make him say the words. Despite his intelligence, his knack for learning and doing things his own way, Rolan struggled with the right words. But action, that was easier. 

His free hand slid along Dammon’s waist, their entwined hands turned into proper position. When Dammon met his gaze again, his eyes burned like blue fire ringed in gold. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his heart pounded out like a war drum in his chest, but he managed to force a single question out before he lost his nerve. 

“Dance with me?”

Dammon’s eyes widened slightly before a grin spread across his face. His hand tangled in Rolan’s loose hair, strands sliding his fingers. Then he leaned in, lips brushing softly against Rolan’s, the contact a shock but a welcome one. His mouth was warm in the cool night, and he drank him in like a man who hadn’t touched a drop of water in days. His skin burned, his heart threatened to dance right out of his damned chest, and still, it wasn’t enough. 

Rolan shifted closer, wrapping both arms around Dammon’s waist, deepening the kiss with a swipe of tongues and teeth. Everywhere their bodies touched, Rolan felt like he was on fire, flames beneath his skin threatening to burn him to ash. And it would be a good way to go, he thought, as the kiss finally broke.

Because with the way Dammon was staring up at him, smiling like he was nothing more than a drunken fool, Rolan understood. What they had was important, as important as anything else in his life. And he was going to fight like hell for more nights like this.

“I thought we were supposed to be dancing.” Dammon whispered, breath ghosting against Rolan’s cheek as a laugh left his mouth. 

“Do you want to?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt. “Dance, I mean.”

Dammon ran his hand through his hair again, but his gaze never slanted away. Chills ran down Rolan’s spine at the intensity of his eyes that he almost didn’t hear the words. “It was your idea, but I like this too.” His lips brushed against Rolan’s briefly before he pulled back, nothing but tenderness on his face. 

And Rolan couldn’t help but agree. 

This was nice.

It was everything.

[tangle-twer]

Ta-Da! Id like to finally present Detective Henry Hyedway Esq, my first real Detective Grimoire oc and the culmination of my headcanon that Grimoire mentored under another detective. I would like to give my massive thanks to @itsty1err ; Henry would not look nearly this good without his phenomenal second pass (Which i will include under the cut, after his bio and a small bonus)

Detective Henry Hyedway Esq. is one of, if not the most famous private detective in the country. Over his long tenure, he's solved every case he's ever been hired on with dignity and flourish, charming everyone he meets with his sensitive, inquisitive manner. His exploits became the focus of many bestselling books, and Hyedway makes massive donations to worthy causes across the globe with the royalties.

However, if you asked him what his greatest achievement was, Hyedway would tell you all about his faithful apprentice, Detective Grimoire. As soon as he saw him at the Academy, he knew that the young boy had potential to become a great sleuth on par with himself, and immediately took the young flatfoot under his wing. The two became close, and Hyedway considers Grimorie himself to be his most impactful and important work- and he makes sure his work is nothing short of Perfection!

"My greatest dream, my life's wish, is that one day everyone will look upon Grimoire's face- in a newspaper, on a broadcast, in a book- they'll look at him and say... that's Hyedway's boy." -Detective Henry Hyedway Esq.

Bonus!!!

And now, the process!

My initial drawing, done approximately 9 o'clock at night. I had a basic idea of who I wanted Grimoire's mentor to be and what he'd look like-That caplet, top hat, and mustache werent going anywhere!- and I wanted to illicit the same tone as Sherlock Holmes and Professor Layton, someone with decades of detectiving experience for Grimoire to look up to.

Razz's second pass! When I shared my first draft with the discord server we were in (10pm ish) and mentioned I would need to take another whack at the design, Razz asked if he could draw out a sketch of his ideas. I said yes, and even included some notes I wrote out for myself. I had gone to sleep shortly after, and woke up to Razz telling me he was finished. Little did I know that when Razz said "sketch" he really meant "Colored turnaround"! I was floored when I saw this, and I owe the quality of Hyedway's incredible design to Razz going above and beyond and I couldn't be happier with what we did together!

[catgriffin]

Adam is basically a spoiled toddler that always got what he wanted. He lost his first wife and was immediately given another, he lost that wife and still got to heaven. Because he was the first human in heaven the angels assumed he knew what he was doing and overlooked all the clearly bad things he did, thus Adam genuinely thinks hes done no wrong because hes constantly being told by some of the strongest beings in existence that hes in the right. The angels don't know what gets someone into heaven so if Adam got in then he must know what he's doing.

The best example is during the court episode, Adam is constantly cursing and no one bats an eye, but when charlie curses everyone looks shocked and upset. Since adam did it, its okay. You have to think about the fact this guy came into the world in the body of an adult with the mind of a child. His 'parents' were angels and probably weren't actually there to raise him. They made him and set him free.

Plus when Lute said "angels don't make mistakes" Adam said he's never made a mistake in his life. Adam is a narcissist but I don't think that's all he is. He doesn't know the difference between right and wrong. So if he really does respawn in hell, imagine how confused he's gonna be. He will likely be telling everyone he's not supposed to be there, that he's the good guy.

Adam said the rules are black and white. The angels taught him Heaven=good, Hell=bad. If hell is bad then why not kill them all? Thus the exterminations. Though I feel like the exterminations may also be to get at Lucifer since Lucifer is the reason Adam was sent to heaven entirely alone.

Charlie and Adam actually have the same mindset but they're speaking from opposite point of views. They both believe things are in black and white and that Heaven=good and Hell=bad. But Charlie believes sinners can be saved because that's where she's from. Adam believes they can't because that's what he was taught. But after season 1 Charlie is finally realizing it isn't that simple and she may help Adam to see the same thing.

The original point that Adam doesn't think he's done anything wrong because he doesn't understand was from someone on discord, I just elaborated on it.

[starsfic]

The Bull's Key

Summary: The most handsome man in town offers a challenge. Xiaotian ends up being more distracted by the bull. (A rewrite of my 2021 fic, The Cat's Key.) Notes: So @dragonblood1313 on Discord offered a version of my fic where Red takes the form of a bull instead- makes sense- and gave me permission to use the idea to rewrite my fic.

AO3/Ko-Fi

He was the most handsome man in town.

His name was Red, matching the mane of fiery curls that he tied back to reveal golden eyes. He was the son of a wealthy couple to boot, and he was smart. Qi Xiaotian had seen him many times in town, walking like a soldier, revealing his fine figure.

So had many others in town. Whenever Red showed his face in town, a crowd of men and women alike formed, following him. They all pleaded for him to be their spouse, to be theirs, to love them.

Xiaotian had been tempted once to ask the same when Red came in to pick up some noodles from Pigsy’s inn. He had barely been able to get through the greeting, entranced by the calluses on Red's hands, the way some of his hair started to drape over his shoulder, how delicate he looked despite the strength he held. But he had swallowed the pleading words of love back, allowing Pigsy to hand over the noodles. He was a simple delivery boy. What good could he offer the town’s prince?

(He didn’t want to answer the pitying looks his Dadsy and father figure gave him.)

One day, however, Red called a meeting.

Everyone came. Even those not interested in Red came, gathering around the wall that bordered his home, a small cottage near his family’s manor. Long Xiaojiao, Xiaotian's best friend, dragged him to the front. She had once been one of the many women who admired Red, but apparently had lost interest after a lengthy conversation with him. Still, her eyes were excited. "I wonder what he's going to be talking about?" she whispered.

"I don't know-"

"HELLO!" 

Those callused hands hefted Red up onto the wall, and the crowd pressed closer, entranced by how the setting sun made Red's hair gleam. Xiaotian's breath caught in his throat, and his fingers twitched, longing to rush home and sketch the scene. Thankfully, he didn't make them wait. 

“I’ve decided to marry,” Red announced, clapping his hands together with a smile. The crowd burst into gasps and whispers, several exchanging angry looks. Xiaojiao grabbed Xiaotian's shoulder hard enough to make him wince. “I have not chosen who yet.” The crowd fell silent, and the angry looks disappeared. For some reason, hope bloomed in Xiaotian’s chest. Red pulled out a golden key from his pocket, marked with the symbol of Red’s family. “So we’re going to play a game.”

The rules were simple: Red would tie the key to his home around the neck of his bull. When a man was brave enough to ask how they knew which cow belonged to Red, he simply said, "You'll know it when you see it." Red would marry whoever entered his home through the key, which hung on his bull. With that, he hopped off the wall and walked away, leaving people to whisper and shout.

The game started the next day.

Xiaotian was outside, hanging up some laundry that some guests had requested. In between the cloth, he saw glimpses of red. His heart skipped a beat and he pushed aside some of the clothes, hoping to see those fiery red curls…

That was a cow.

Xiaotian blinked. Nope, that was a bull. A handsome bull with golden horns, yes, but also bright red. He walked through the streets without a care, seemingly unaware of the golden key hanging around its neck. That was probably what Red meant when people would recognize the bull as his.

But the key was also glinting around its neck, right next to a little bell, gleaming like a teasing little star. Xiaotian felt himself freeze at the realization. It would be so easy to just walk up and take the key…

 Someone shouted “There it is!”

It was like someone had screamed fire . A crowd of people immediately formed. The bull glanced back, snorted, and Xiaotian blinked. In that second, the bull took off like a shot, kicking up dust behind him. Xiaotian flattened himself against the wall, watching as the bull ran past and saving himself from being flattened by the crowd.

At first, people chased. The bull seemed to be a little bit of a tease, walking calmly around until people noticed him. And from there, the bull would run. It had to be the fastest bull Xiaotian had ever seen, kicking up clouds of dust that seemed to block out the sun for a moment as the pursuers were left behind.

Then traps and bribes came into play. The bribes came in the form of hay, fine cow feed, and other foods, all sbulltered around town. People thought that the richest farmer in town would win when he grew sweet cud, enough to make a giant mountain of it. The traps started out simple, with thread and bells next to the bribes. Slowly, they grew more elaborate as the bull seemed to ignore the bribes, to the point that Xiaotian found himself sore and bruised when he was running an errand, took one step, and found himself in essentially a giant mousetrap.

The bull fell for none of it.

“It’s all stupid,” Pigsy snorted that evening. He was cleaning up after dinner, scrubbing at the dish with a fierce look, as Xiaojiao patched up Xiaotian. “The kid clearly sent them on a wild goose chase so he could be left alone.”

“But what if someone gets the bull?” Tang challenged, glancing at Xiaotian.

“Are you kidding? That bull has to be the smartest thing alive. The only way someone’s getting that key is if it walks up and hands it over.”

“Yeah, Tang, Red’s not interested in marriage,” Xiaojiao said, giving Xiaotian an apologetic look when he winced as she tightened the bandage. “At least, to those bozos. They’re going about this all wrong.”

…huh.

The next day, Xiaotian took the day off.

It had been relatively quiet of any bull sightings that day. Nobody noticed him take the path down to Red’s cottage. An idea had been poking into his mind since Xiaojiao’s comment. Finally, he reached the wall that surrounded the cottage, the one Red had made his announcement on, and peeked his head over.

The cottage was a simple one for Red’s wealth. The nearby creek turned a waterwheel, and an open space revealed a blacksmith area. There was no sign of Red. Or the bull.

Not until a startled “Moo!” and a bell rang.

Xiaotian’s first thought was oh, one of those traps worked . Except, none of the traps had been set this close to Red’s property, out of some silent agreement. Curiosity nagged at him, and he followed, following the wall until he got to an open section. There, some lovely weeping willows had been planted. Normally, the lovely green leaves would gently flow with the wind, except today, there was a bull.

A bull who was clearly struggling. 

As Xiaotian stepped closer, he realized that the bull’s golden horns had somehow gotten wrapped up in the willow branches, trapping him and locking him tight. His bell jingled as he frantically tried to free himself. As Xiaotian stepped closer, the bull’s eyes widened, and his struggles grew more desperate, to the point that there were audible small cricks and cracks . If this kept up, the bull would hurt himself.

“Hold on, hold on!” Xiaotian held up his hands, keeping them up to show that he wasn’t going for the key. The key was honestly the furthest thing from his thoughts at the moment. “Let me help you.” He reached to his side and pulled out the small knife Pigsy had given him for self-defense. It was for vegetables, but people tended to leave you alone if they thought you could defend yourself. 

The bull’s struggles died down, but his eyes were still wide and frightened. Xiaotian kept his breathing calm and kept his eyes on the bull’s horns. He would have to be careful. One slip up, and those things could gore him. He reached up and gently gripped one horn. The bull made an unhappy noise, and he sighed. “I know, buddy.”

He reached up with the knife and started to cut at the willow. They weren’t clean and professional, like how Pigsy could cut, but Xiaotian did his best. Once one horn was free, he started cutting free the other. Willow leaves and branches settled around his feet and on the bull’s back, decorating the red fur with soft green.

Once the willow was away, Xiaotian reached out and gently gripped the back of the bull’s collar. The bull reared back, but Xiaotian held tight, leading him through the willow and to the other side. He released the collar to lift up the willow branches.

The bull blinked and then snorted, marching past him. The sun gleamed on his red fur, much like how it did on Red’s hair, as he shook off the willow leaves. Xiaotian sat down as the bull trotted around, enjoying his freedom, and pulled out his sketchbook from his bag. “I wonder where he got you,” he wondered as he grabbed his lunch, opening it to reveal his favorite noodles, packed with beef and veggies. He ignored the twinge of guilt at the meat to instead admire the bull. “You’re really beautiful.”

And troublemaking.

The bull eyed him from a few feet away. “I bet you’re having a lot of fun,” Xiaotian said, pulling out his chopsticks. “I certainly would. Running around and making a bunch of people look dumb? That sounds like a blast.” Well, not the making people look dumb part, he wasn’t that mean. The bull stepped closer and now Xiaotian could see that it was staring at his bowl. “Are you hungry?” The bull made a little moo and he chuckled. “Okay, hang on…” Which veggies did cows like?

And then the bull was sticking its face in his bowl.

“Woah, hey, wait-!” Xiaotian yelped as the bull’s mouth moved, sending broth spilling over him and narrowly avoiding him with the horns. Before he could grab him, the bull sprinted away with a mouthful of noodles.

“Wait, I-” Xiaotian got his feet, but the bull was already gone. He sighed, sitting back down. “Sorry, buddy.” Hopefully, the noodles wouldn’t make it sick.

The next afternoon, Red came into the inn.

Xiaotian was too focused to hear the silence pass over the dining hall. His eyes were locked on his sketchbook as he drew the bull. His paints and watercolors weren’t allowed in the business during business hours, but he could easily imagine how the light caught the red of the bull, setting it ablaze…

“-Noodle Boy!” He jolted at the name and stood up. Red stood on the other side of the counter. Was it his imagination, or did he look flustered? “May I please buy some noodles?” he said. “Veggie, please.”

“Uh…sure. Yeah, yeah, right on.” Xiaotian felt heat spread through his face as he scrambled to write down the order. Pigsy was glaring at him from the kitchen, he could feel it. But there was also something else, something that he dared to say once the order was in. “Um, I don’t mean to be weird, but you have a willow tree on your property, right?”

Red raised a brow. “Yes?”

“Well, uh, I kinda found your bull stuck in it.”

Red’s brows furrowed together. “Are you presenting the key?”

“No,” Xiaotian felt his brows furrow together. Didn’t he hear the part about his pet being stuck? “I was more focused on your bull being stuck and freeing him.” He took in a deep breath. “That’s really irresponsible.”

“...Excuse me.”

“I mean, what if I hadn’t found him?” The heat in his face drained down to his stomach, in a familiar feeling of anger. He loved animals, and he had grown fond of the beautiful scarlet bull. “Your poor bull could’ve hurt himself! I can’t believe you’re letting him do stuff like that!”

Silence drew throughout the inn. Red gaped at him, as if nobody had ever dared to speak like that to him. Not even the clink of a bowl dared to break the silence. Xiaotian did, letting out a huff before grabbing Red’s food. “Payment, sir,” he ground out.

Red, still gaping, reached into his pocket and pulled out money. As he did, Xiaotian realized that it was way more than that bowl was meant for. He opened his mouth to call out, but Red was already marching out of the door.

Xiaojiao broke the silence by drawing up, eyes wide. “That was really ballsy,” she whispered.

“I…It needed to be said,” He still had a bit of a crush on the guy, but that had dimmed a bit. “It needed to be said. Someone needs to defend that poor bull.”

The next day, when he could, he came to Red’s house and found that the willow tree had been trimmed down.

Weeks passed. Xiaotian found himself coming day after day to Red’s cottage when he could, always greeted by the poor bull in question, who watched him from the corner of his eye. Every day, he grew closer and closer. The bull didn’t like veggies, but he did like noodles and balls, he found, watching as the bull threw the ball with his horns. The rest of the town was starting to give up, sharing Pigsy’s thought that this was Red’s way of telling people to leave him alone.

Xiaotian... found he really didn’t care, especially after the willow tree scene.

The bull was rapidly taking up his care. He began to let him pet him, weaving small braids in his fur and even setting flower crowns on his head. He listened with ear flicks and tail flicks as Xiaotian talked about everything and nothing.

One evening, when the inn was closing for the evening and the bar was empty, there was a moo. Xiaotian looked up. “Hey little buddy!” he cooed when he saw the bull at the doorway. “Here, wait by the trough.”

“Kid, we- Woah!” Pigsy, from the kitchen doorway, stared. Tang poked his head around and stared. “Is that-”

Xiaotian shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Yeah. Do we have any leftover noodles?”

“Kid. That’s Red’s bull.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why is the key still around its neck?”

“Wha- oh!” Right, the key. Once again, it glinted beckoningly. Xiaotian looked up from it, making eye contact with the bull. It stared steadily at him. “I... I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right, I guess.”

Pigsy stared, even as Xiaojiao’s head popped up and Tang reached over her and passed a pot of noodles to him. “What.”

The bartender shrugged as he took the pot from Pigsy’s limp hands. “It’s not the right time,” he said, a bit more confidently. His back turned to it, he didn’t notice the annoyed look that crossed the bull’s face. The others followed him to the door, watching as he poured the noodles into the trough. The bull bowed his head and ate, allowing Xiaotian to pet him.

However, his mind, for once, wasn’t on the bull.

The next day was a sunny day. Xiaotian found himself stretched out in the grass. The bull laid across from him, stretched out happily in the sun with his gleaming horns. “You sure are one lucky bull,” he admitted. Now that he had been reminded of the key, he remembered why he had been interested in the bull.

The bull let out a moo, turning those dark eyes to him. “You probably snuggle with him every night, I certainly would snuggle you, and... he’s so smart. And handsome. And clever.” Xiaotian couldn’t help but snicker reminded of a public incident where Red had verbally torn to shreds a suitor who had tried to grab him. “I mean, I’m still a little upset with him for the whole willow tree thing, but he fixed that.”

The bull stood.

“I wonder... if he would be disappointed if it was me. I mean, I yelled at him in public. I’m just some innkeeper’s boy. I’m not rich or smart like him” Xiaotian rolled over on his stomach with a sigh. “Please don’t tell anyone. It’s embarrassing-”

The bull knelt in front of him.

He froze.

The key gleamed at him.

“Are... you giving it to me?”

The bull didn’t respond. Xiaotian reached out. One hand rested between the bull’s horns, where he liked to be scratched, and scratched on instinct. The other reached for the key.

The string came undone, leaving the golden key in his hands. Xiaotian stared at it before he felt the bull rise, pulling him up with him. There was a gentle nudge from the bull before it moved forward, guiding him to the house. Soon enough, they were at the door.

He reached out and slid the key into the lock.

The door opened and Xiaotian stepped inside. The front room was decorated nicely, done in reds and purples and touches of gold. Little bulls decorations were here and there. He turned, wondering if the bull had inspired the decor, only for red smoke to engulf his vision.

“I hope you view me responsible enough to marry you.”

The smoke cleared and Xiaotian stared. Red stood there, with crossed arms, brows furrowed together.

“...what?”

“The willow tree.” Red coughed, looking away. “You were right. I should have made sure it was trimmed before trying to walk through it. If a real bull was in that, it could’ve gotten hurt.” He glanced at him. “I apologize for making you fret.”

Xiaotian blinked. “A…Apology accepted.”

“So, am I responsible enough to marry you?”

“...Yes.”

Red reached out. Xiaotian reached out, resting his hand on the top of Red’s head. His fiance- okay wow- paused before a pretty smile formed across his face and he leaned forward.

Their first kiss was sweet. Not as sweet as the day Red actually got a bull for a pet much to Xiaotian’s joy, but sweet enough.

[raayllum]

I keep seeing people calling Callum Snake boi what does that MEAN

Little slice of fandom history and also because it's my fault (TLDR at the bottom in bold):

Years ago, a few days after S1 came out and when JK Rowling wasn't an outspoken bloody TERF there were discussions of what Harry Potter houses the characters would fit into. The general consensus for Callum seemed to be that he'd be a Ravenclaw because he's clever and artistic, but I argued for Slytherin (whose symbol is a snake) because I saw him more so as ambitious than just curious and more selectively loyal when it comes to his motivations, etc etc.

If you've been following me for any period of time you might know that I tag Very Meticulously, so as a trans person and a trans ally I was like I don't wanna use the TERF's terminology anymore, but having a tag to talk about a specific aspect of Callum's characterization (his wonderfully harsh temper, his intense selective loyalty, his obsessive ambition, etc etc) was still a useful prospect to me. Thus Snake Boi Callum as a tag was born, mostly as a joke? And so I could find metas that talked about his characterization (specifically) as I don't think I had a characterization tag almost at all for a while?

It started to pick up steam in my tags specifically when there was starting to be a little bit of - pushback isn't the right word cause everyone's entitled to their own interpretation and characterization of a character, nor does everyone have to engage with every part of a character's canon personality or actions in their fandom stuff if they don't want to.

But there'd be stuff of people forgetting that he can be pretty mean when he gets angry or not seeing him as selectively loyal to Ezran and Rayla? People would also be surprised but accepting, or resistant, to his growing and consistent parallels in characterization with Viren and Claudia (even if they are all still, ultimately, different from one another).

I saw a fair bit of sentiment during the hiatus of "oh he'd Never ever do dark magic again" (which I never believed even immediately post-s2) or in discussions of how he'd respond to Rayla after she left in Through the Moon graphic novel (set shortly after S3). Some people thought understandably that he'd care a lot about the lie (that he'd get to go with her) and the abandonment, understandably so - they're both shitty things to do, but I also sympathize/cry over why Rayla thought she had to do them, but I never thought he'd think the lie was that important, and focus more on the abandonment aspect as a source of hurt.

Snake Boi Callum as a concept also got some mileage in the development of my Cube Hostage Exchange Theory as well, an ongoing theory since November 2020-ish that Callum will help Aaravos / give him the Key of Aaravos in order to save Rayla's life if she was injured / taken hostage. I don't know if they'll do that scenario now because S5 basically delivered the exact thing, just with Finnegrin instead of Aaravos, but there was some more legitimate pushback to said theory/scenario during the hiatus because people thought Callum would never help a villain like that or take such a big risk for someone he loves. I'm not gonna say that I was wholly right (because I wasn't) and again people can interpret his actions in S5 in whatever way they want, but I will say that all of S5 was one of the most validating experiences of vindication I've ever had in my whole life, so that probably speaks for itself

But yeah, it's a term that's kinda caught on (I would say 60-80% of the fandom sees Callum as someone who would risk the world for Ezran and/or Rayla, with 20-30% - maybe less? - seeing otherwise, hence why I think it's caught on; but again, having an 'unpopular' opinion in fandom doesn't necessarily make it wrong, god knows I've had plenty) and then in the discords I'm in, a few people thought a week based around those traits would be fun and boom. Snake Boi Callum Week was born.

TLDR; Snake Boi Callum is a fanon catch-all / shorthand for the 'darker' / more emotional and torn side of Callum's personality (his ambition, his temper, particularly his fierce protectiveness and selective loyalty) that is being explored by whoever wants to in a fun fandom week. His bio in official series material does read that he values "those close to [him] more than anyone or anything" after all (which again, was very validating after years and seasons of seeing and writing him with that exact sentiment)

The tagging also means that for people who don't agree with this characterization for whatever reason, or whom dislike the emphasis on it, can blacklist it easily (as is the intended purpose with all tags on my blog)

He's a goofy nurturing guy who will Cut You and verbally eviscerate you without question if you hurt his loved ones or piss him off enough, and I love that for him. He's a little snake boi and we think he should have lots of angst (or sometimes not enough when it comes to killing/threatening people) over how far he'll go to protect the people he loves, as a Treat

[sophiainspace]

Oh my god, the Discord server rules.

First, there's the server where you're not allowed to @ anyone unless they have a little bell in their name. My socially anxious people-pleasing ass has worked incredibly hard to learn this rule, until it's a reflex to turn off the ping as I reply to people. Seriously, everyone there seems to hate being mentioned with a ping - deeply, completely, prostrate yourself on the floor if you dare do the evil of the ping. I'm not even talking @everyone. Just any reply that sends a notification. A travesty, a murder, go directly to hell. (This means I now turn off the ping in servers where people want it.)

Then there's the server where you have to stick strictly to the subject matter of each channel or there will be a whole moral panic. There are three 'talk freely' channels, each with a slightly different focus, where believe me you cannot talk freely. That's before you get to the INFINITE LIST of subject channels. Oh yes, if a thing exists in the wide fucking universe, there will be a channel for it, and you will not set a foot out of the 'laundry' channel to discuss laundry in 'home', nor will you mention another household chore in the 'laundry' channel, or cursed be your progeny even unto seven generations.

Then there's the one where I read the rule "No mentions of religion or politics" and left immediately. Anywhere but Discord, I'd have thought this was minor hyperbole. But oh no. This is Discord. There are two or three of you around here who know what I do for work. You will get why I have never laughed so hard, as I imagined the scenario in which someone asked me what I did today and I mentioned in passing something I was working on and the ban-hammer came down so hard I was trebucheted directly to the Vatican, exiled there forever if you like religion so much, as the words would have flashed up on the black Discord screen.

Then there's the server where you can't spam. Which basically seems to mean no posting one line after another. Ever. I left that server after less than a day, anxiety spiking through the ceiling. I have RSD and constantly worry that I talk too much - there was going to be a terrible mess if I stayed, and the mess would be the puddle of liquid me all over the server floor.

Then there's the server that likes you to tag all spoilers (absolutely fair, this server is the only place with sensible rules honestly, given the series it focuses on.) Where I was briefly liveblogging about said completed series, but ended up hinting about too many things that I need to tag with each episode they relate to (in this case, potentially about 20 eps). Server folks are absolutely right that I should do this. It's just going to take more brain cells than I have left, after the above sets of rules HAVE DESTROYED MY TINY MIND. Love the server, might stick to their food channels.

Then there's the server where you can't backseat mod, and that's fine because I exist there to cause the trouble I can't in the above servers, and the mods can mod me. Just as long as I'm careful not to get thrown out. Since there's nowhere else I can actually talk about my fandoms without stepping on the garden rake of a ridiculous rule and doing a Sideshow Bob for hours.

I like all these servers. Brilliant, wonderful, full of great people. Also full of people with interesting attachments to weirdly specific rules, categories and ideas. And I'm too old and neurodivergent for 10 servers with 10 different sets of rules where if you break a single one, they break you.

So it's back to tumblr I guess. Where there are no rules, only vague but absolutely vital social conventions that no one warns you about until you blunder into them, and then there will be torture and death. Never mind the main character of the day on Twitter, try being the tumblr travesty of the decade, all because you did a thing no one wrote down but everyone knows is worse than abandoning your elderly grandmother in the middle of a field and driving away.

I'm going to my living room to freak out about TV alone.

[fictionkinfessions]

I'm not even saying who I am. But that ask about the ec kin I cut off.

First off. I didn't cut you off. I politely left the server because you kin Adam and while he did bad things in canon and you may not have personally, you have no idea what he did to ME personally. I said in the server that you were free to stay my friend, message me on tumblr, and continue following my blog. I left for my own comfort and safety. I did not have to extend that kindness to you. I could've left and immediately blocked you. But I didn't because I cared. I only unfollowed and blocked you after you started vague posting on main about me being there still. So I left.

Don't act like I did wrong by leaving when it's for my own comfort and safety. Like it or not, if you read the actual novels, Adam Moonlit is a justified reason for someone to leave a discord server. Not to mention, just like your canons affect you, my canons affect me. Had you not posted on your main blog vaguing me/others I would have stayed following you and perhaps we could have had a conversation later about things.

Please leave me/the others who left alone, we didn't do anything wrong by leaving a damn discord server civilly. Sending an ask like that to a public blog is really awful, especially singling people out like that and not giving full context to the situation.

-one of many ec kinnies

(sorry for sending this, I just needed to address that awful ask. I will not send anything further. )

Because of this ask, any confession vagueing irl people who are or aren't canon mates that have allegedly abandoned the confessor or cut ties or just dropped off the face of the earth are banned. I'm sorry you are hurt but this is the kind of venting that needs to go in your hello kitty diary, not a public forum.

I am sick of people not being able to take No For An Answer and drag this personal shit out into public on my blog.

One grow up and Two you're shitty person if you do this. I'm not saying abusive or manipulative, that's a specific scenario and a one off isn't necessarily a concrete habit so to speak. Also I know nothing of either of you so of course I'm not jumping to conclusions. Everyone needs a place to process their feelings and reactions. But this is not an appropriate place for it.

This is the second time and really it's embarrassing for you and ridiculous for everyone reading this blog.

OP I genuinely apologize and I'm sorry you had to be the quote unquote Learning Moment for me to put a stop to this in the first place. I'm sorry you have to explain personal shit in public like it's a really lousy version of Judge Judy Kin Edition.

Connie / mod party cat

ps if anyone is familiar with the situation, please keep it to yourself. There's enough personal stuff being aired out, nobody needs to know blog urls and IDing info. Thank you.

[hellspawntale-rebooted]

CANON FACT TIME! (See fact 18 for the charisk)

This time I’m going to tell you all.. get this: 25 AZREMI FACTS!

Number 1: Azreal has a few custom sweaters based on their favourite shirt to wear whenever the shirt is dirty. They gave one to Emily because she really wanted one. Now sometimes they play something Co-op like Mario 3D world or cuphead as “sweater buddies”

Fact Number 2:Emily has met Azreal’s sister (who’s name is sarah) after everyone was freed. Emily told Sarah off for what she did to Azreal, and let’s just say: It worked and Azzy won’t have problems with his old family any time soon. (Note, I said any time SOON.)

Fact Number 3:Emily and Azreal always do their homework together. They get a plate of cookies and get to work.

Fact Number 4:Azreal and Emily sometimes fall asleep on the couch when watching a movie or playing a game, so Toriel or Asgore picks them up and TRIES to bring them to their beds, but they don’t let go of eachother, so Toriel or asgore end up just putting them both in Emily’s bed because it’s closer.

Fact Number 5:Azreal and Emily will match their Halloweeen costumes every time.

Fact Number 6:Scorch and Water put Azreal and Emily on their Tomodachi life and rigged it so they’d start dating

Fact Number 7:Azreal doesn’t really like their singing, but Emily thinks they sound Angelic.

Fact Number 8: Azreal and Emily have only really fought once and it was because Emily accidentally threw Azreal off the edge in Mario maker. (The fight lasted 3 minutes before the two of them realized how stupid it was and just hugged it out… for 6 minutes.)

Fact Number 9: sometimes Azreal and Frisk go with Univer to debates on monster rights, and Emily comes along. Any time someone says some snarky remark about Azreal “pfft, and what do YOU know? You’re just a dumb kid-“ Emily IMMEDIATELY Signals to Univer to start playing the “you are an idiot” audio at full blast until the snarky commenter shuts up. Azreal is ok with it.

Fact Number 10:The two of them together share a whole toy room filled with tons of plushies and other toys. Sometimes they play in there together. (Hellspawn, Tricksly, Chara, Flowey and Frisk join them sometimes)

Fact Number 11:They like drawing together sometimes.

Fact number 12:Sometimes the two of them bring Toby to the dog park together

Fact Number 13:They get married when they’re older and you have to accept it

Fact Number 14:Their discord friend nicknames for eachother are “Azzy <3” and “Em-Em :)”

Fact Number 15: Toriel, Undyne, Gerson, and Alphys always pair them up in class projects. (They’re teachers)

Fact Number 16:If anyone were to Flirt with Azreal, Emily would be clingy for the rest of the day. If anyone were to flirt with Emily, Azreal would just pull Emily away from them and hug her)

Fact Number 17:Dark, Darker, yet darker They love each other’s hugs.

Fact number 18:They’re both Huge Charisk shippers and enjoy seeing the Chara’s and Frisks of the multiverse being happy together.

Fact Number 19: Sometimes on the weekend Azreal makes pancakes for the two of them to eat while playing Mario kart, because they know Emily likes pancakes.

Fact Number 20: On Valentine’s Day, they both get eachother a Teddy bear, on Easter, they get eachother a 50 pack of chocolate bars (which they end up sharing with chara and eachother) and on Christmas, they’ll make eachother a “one thing you can’t say no to” card which they use immediately on cuddles.

Fact Number 21: They main Lucas and Rosalina in smash (Azreal Mains Lucas and Emily mains Rosalina)

Fact Number 22:Rouxls Karrd refers to them as “The twoeth of hearts”.

Fact number 23:HELLSPAWNFELL Azreal and HELLSPAWNFELL Emily have an Unbreakable bond, having been through the perils of the Underground without as many friends by their sides.

Fact Number 24: Hellspawnswap Azreal is a total flirt and will regularly tease Hellspawnswap Emily.

And finally, Fact Number 25:

They know the other loves them, and they’re happy as they are right now, but.. they wouldn’t be opposed to taking it one step further.

[hkblack]

On Crowley and Sweeney Todd

I made a joke about writing a dissertation in a Discord Server, so here’s almost 3k words on why it's so significant that Neil specifically calls out the song Epiphany, and vaguely hints at the "original" Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett. As someone who has worked on Sweeney in different capacities from both high school nerd to a professional context--this gets real fascinating.

I really break down the plot of both the “original” Sweeney Todd story and the Sondheim musical, because I know not everyone was an obsessed theater nerd as a teenager, and I want to make sure you all get the important bits of this other story that may or may not have been destroyed by a certain movie that we will not discuss. I’d apologize for making a long post, but welcome to Tumblr, twitter folks, let’s DO THIS.

Let's start with context.

The String of Pearls [Featuring SWEENEY TODD THE DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET] was a Penny Dreadful story from the 1850s written by ?? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (there's some guesses, but no one is 100% sure)

In it, Sweeney is a barber--what's important to note is that historically this is the time of the barber-surgeon. Victorian London was all about that one stop shop sort of life. Got a weird abscess you need checked out and also want a bit of a shave? Go to your local barber surgeon! He's got sharp things, makes sense to me! He and his neighbor, Mrs. Lovett, seem to run fully independent shops. She's got a thriving meat pie business; he's got a thriving barber business.

Cool.

The story itself is actually of a young sailor who has arrived at the city with a pearl necklace given to him by his mate who was all, "When next you go to London, give this to my lady love for me." Said mate is presumed dead at sea, because no one has heard from him for like a year. Johanna, the lady love, knows this sailor is coming--but he and the pearl necklace disappear before she sees him. She does some investigating, starts thinking there's something fishy going on with these Sweeney and Lovett characters and digs deeper. Surprise--human meat pies! Turns out her lover has been kept captive by Todd and Lovett in the crypts and tunnels that connect their shops and was forced to make pies. Bad guys get locked up (hung), good guys get married. And you, young Victorian Lad, are meeting with your mates after a day of work going "DID YOU CATCH LAST NIGHT’S GAME OF THRONES PENNY DREADFUL?"

This, you'll note, is vastly different from Sondheim's Sweeney Todd.

In Sondheim, Benjamin Barker is married to Lucy, and they've just had a bouncing bundle of joy, Johanna. The powerful Judge Turpin wants Lucy, but she's not interested, and Barker keeps going "back off my wife, bro" So Turpin uses his power, and gets Barker shipped to mfing Australia, and then does exactly what you'd expect a man in power do to vulnerable Victorian woman. Distraught, Lucy takes lye. Here's a moment of goodness for Turpin. He takes in Johanna, recognizing his own culpability here. Lucy meanwhile is left to live on the streets, half mad from brain damage. Years pass. Barker comes back with the alias of Sweeney Todd, set on, finding his wife and daughter, and possibly getting revenge on one person, and one person only.

Let's jump to Lovett. In Sondheim you have to really pay attention to the subtext to get her story. She's a widow. She knew Todd before he was shipped off. She desired Todd no differently than Turpin desired Lucy.While Turpin gets Johanna, Lovett gets Todd's old house. Her husband is dead (who knows how), and she's making do with her pie shop. When Todd walks in her door she recognizes him almost immediately. She tells him, sort of, that his wife is dead (at least when Todd goes: she's dead? she never corrects him). She tells him Turpin has his daughter. He wonders what to do, and Lovett comes up with a plan. The plot is this: take over the upstairs and turn it back into a barbershop, get a following with this new Sweeney Todd name, become the best barber in town, lure the judge in, murder the judge. Prosper! It's rough around the edges, but the man has just found out his wife is dead and his daughter has been raised by a predator. Cut him some slack.

They go out and Todd gets into a competition with a "traveling barber" who also is a dentist (barber-surgeon, remember?). Todd wins and tells everyone where to find him. This includes the Judge's lackey, the Beadle. Clever marketing, man, it'll kill ya.

And it almost does! Said traveling barber also recognizes Todd and goes to confront him at the shop. Typical blackmail shit. Angry that his plan may not be able to work, and it'll be because of this one person, Todd lashes out. For a show with a high body count, the murder of Pierelli is probably in the top three in terms of brutality. It's just lash out and murder--because you're depressed, and your wife is dead. He hides the body quickly and is discussing with Lovett what to do when the Judge comes knocking.

Thrilled that his plan has just jumped a few steps, Todd gets him in the chair, does some schmoozing, and is really taking his time to just--savor the moment of revenge.

Now let's pause and rewind. On the ship into London at the beginning of the show, there's a bright eyed bushy tailed kid who Todd meets. This same kid sees our dear Johanna (now a teenager, who is being lusted after by her creepy Judge guardian) and falls in love. Kids these days. He and Johanna decide to run off together, but he needs help.

So of course, this kid, this optimistic fool that Todd had to deal with the entire way into London, bursts in right as Todd prepares himself to make the killing blow. The Judge hears the plot to "steal" his Johanna, thinks Todd is in on it and therefore awful, shouts and leaves.

Now Todd could, in this moment, murder the boy too, but he doesn't. He sends him out--and then we get Epiphany.

In good stagings of Sweeney Todd, Todd is depressed, morose, and kind of quiet up until Epiphany. He's unsure, he just--look there's a lot going on, okay? A lot of folks would say in the beginning you get to see bits of Barker still around and see the man struggling to be this identity he's created to hide himself and maybe, even, protect himself. He doesn't come up with his own ideas (and even after this, he lets Lovett drive a lot). He's the kind of "moving through the motions" you would expect of a man whose been sent to a labor camp in the harsh climes of Australia and has just found out his wife is dead. Epiphany is when Todd really wakes up. He snarls and rages against the world. Epiphany brings back a refrain from the very first song. Bright-eyed bushy tailed sings about there being no place like London in that "wow isn't London grand!" way and Todd responds by saying London is a black pit full of people full of shit, only the vermin of the world inhabit London. This comes back in Epiphany. Instead of being intent on revenge on one person who caused direct harm, this is where Todd snaps and decides to say "eff it everyone in this hellhole is now responsible for my suffering" Benjamin Barker stayed put in his place. He followed the rules. And Judge Turpin put his foot in Barker's face, that man essentially died, and Todd rose from his ashes. Todd says that everyone deserves to die. He starts with saying “they all deserve to die”, then says “no we all deserve”. He says, “the lives of the wicked should be made brief” and that death "for the rest of us will be a relief, we all deserve to die.”

He has this brief moment of grieving his daughter in the song before suddenly shouting "Finished!" Here he starts to really address the audience, inviting imaginary people to his barber shop to die at his hand. He says, "I will have vengeance, I will have salvation!" and starts referring to himself as "Sweeney." It's quite interesting when you listen to it or watch the incredible George Hearn perform it because he breaks again near the end to grieve his wife. There are some people who say that Todd and Barker are two different men, like split personalities or Jekyll and Hyde, as opposed to Todd being Barker’s alias and alias alone. And when you listen to the music--Sondheim isn't telling you no. This grand beautiful sweeping symphony swells under Barker's grieving moments, before getting cut by Todd shouting out. And finally at the end of Epiphany you get this absolutely transcendent and awfully dissonant moment of Barker's sweeping symphony and Todd's unhinged noise as he sings "I'm alive at last, and I'm full of joy!"

And it's awful and immediately followed by one of the funniest and most recognizable songs--Have a Little Priest. In which, again, Lovett comes up with an idea of how to deal with Pirelli's body, and any of the other bodies that Todd might want to make available.

Epiphany could just be a vent song. "I'm going to kill all those miserable assholes who did this to me," says Todd. And Lovett could, in theory, go "A'ight. So, look, this is how we get you back into good graces with the judge, we can work with this!" because she does do that part. Getting the judge to come back has nothing to do with the murder of other people. She does not have to encourage the murder for "practice."

There's a dead man in the trunk in the room. How much more practice do you need to slice a throat with a sharp object as a barber-surgeon? We're good boo.

But she does. And she starts with a little priest. And that temptation, if you must, only works because of Todd's own rage fueled venting.

So. Okay. -deep breath-

Let's go back to Crowley and why this could be his favorite moment.

We know Crowley hated the 14th century. We know Crowley took credit for many of humanity's worst hits. We know he drank after finding out about the inquisition. TV!Crowley shows us a Crowley who takes a carpenter from Galilee and shows him the world, who frowns at the execution of someone whose crime was to tell people to be nice to each other. We see him grumpily get a drink after having to deal with Caligula. We see him offended at the very thought of being aligned with Nazis.

Gaiman has said that for all that "sauntering vaguely downwards" Crowley is probably not nearly as bad as Heaven thinks, but not nearly as "good" as he'd like to say out loud. But one thing Crowley in every universe agrees on is that the phrase "Hell is empty, and all the devils are here," is pretty damn close to accurate because Hell could never be as awful and as terrible as humans are to each other. And in that, Crowley perhaps agrees with the idea of there being a hole in the world like a great black pit filled with people full of shit. So perhaps that's a reason he likes this song. The human race is pretty miserable. I’ll just gesture at the news recently and you all can find your own reasons to agree. Perhaps in Crowley’s lowest moments, when an angel refuses to fraternize with him, when he has to do a particularly nasty job, when he’s alone on earth and shouting into the void, he agrees with some of what Todd says here. Humans are awful, and the world might be a better place without them.

BUT another reason Crowley might like this song could also be it's a perfect demonstration of humans being the key to their own fallibility in temptation. "I'm going to murder everyone" could just be a thing Sweeney says and does not do, if not for Lovett coming up with a way to one up her neighbor (who, it is implied earlier, is using stray cats to fill her meat pies). And even then—Todd could say “yeah, okay, calm down crazy. We’re not…eating people. I want revenge on this man who ruined my family, cannibalism is a whole other level. Where did you even get that idea? Who are you hanging out with? Why did you get my house? Wtf?” But he doesn’t. He goes with it. He easily falls into this temptation because he is blinded by rage and the need for revenge.

I like both of those reasons. They’re pretty good reasons. I could write fanfics for days with those two reasons.

But my favorite reason that Crowley likes Epiphany is that he probably finds some kind of ironic humor in Todd saying he'll have salvation by murdering people, because that's not how salvation works, buddy--and Crowley would know.

But what is salvation then? Living in miserable suffering, for a crime you didn't commit so that maybe, just maybe, if you bear it well enough, you'll get some kind of eternal reward, singing celestial harmonies? How do celestial harmonies solve the grief of a dead wife, a daughter he'll never be able to hold, the knowledge that a man ruined his entire life and got away with it?

Because here’s the thing, for Todd at least. What if, instead of relying on some omnipresent being who never answers Her telephone to give you salvation, you make your own salvation?

In Epiphany, Todd takes the concept of salvation in his hands and says, "I recognize that Heavenly Salvation is not achieved by murder, but given that celestial harmonies are stupid, I have elected to redefine salvation with my own terms."

Now, admittedly in the end, this goes south for Todd. HOWEVER, you can argue that part of the reason it does is because he is being actively lied to. He accidentally murders his Lucy, thinking her some obnoxious beggar woman. Some of this is because she is an obnoxious beggar woman. Lovett is constantly shoo'ing her off, seeming to be nervous any time the woman is around. When Lovett goes down below their building and finds Lucy's body and realizes what Todd has done, she panics, "Quickly now, into the oven with you" she says, dragging the body to the giant oven, dispensing with the usual process of meat grinding. Todd comes down and catches her, tells her to knock it off, still not realizing who Lucy is, Lovett tries to distract him, Todd goes to move Lucy's body, and then recognizes her. He loses it. Barker comes back, you might say, sobbing. Then we get the most brutal murder--Todd pretends to forgive Lovett who is insisting she loves him, always has, even before, and she'd make a better wife than Lucy ever was. He agrees, spinning her around and dancing before throwing her into the oven. Todd then dies by the hand of a young boy, Toby--formerly Pirelli's assistant, taken in by Lovett--who figured out the secret and went (rightfully) insane at the knowledge that he'd been helping turn humans into pies (and also had been eating those pies). Young Toby slits Todd's throat as the man grieves his wife. Many productions have Todd recognize Toby's presence and intentionally let it happen.

Because how can there ever be salvation for a man who ruined the very thing he proclaimed to love? By killing Lucy, he has become as wicked as Turpin.

SO.

When Neil makes references to the original Sweeney Todd, we're talking about a story that was made for shock value. How awful that those people ate pies made of human, how fantastically delightful that we have the ability to consume mass media for one of the first times, how good that the young couple lives happily ever after. What creative little bastards humans are for coming up with this story. Crowley’s got a lot to be excited about. Something entertaining for one. But also, mass media! Mass media talking about cannibalism. Some rich dude somewhere is going to wonder what human flesh tastes like thanks to this. Not Crowley’s scene, but if it gets a soul in on the books with his name attached, hey, gotta pay rent somehow, amirite? And that's all well and good.

But when Neil says Crowley likes Sondheim's Sweeney, and specifically Epiphany, we're talking about a moment where we see the ease at which humans fall into temptation, the horrors humans think of on their own, and the taking of Heavenly concepts and turning them entirely human.

And the beauty of redefining salvation in human terms (after you take out the murder) is that it gives Crowley permission to redefine salvation in his own terms too. Why can’t a demon have salvation, when the demon is the one who gets to define what salvation is? Crowley doesn’t need Her to make him an angel again, he doesn’t want Heaven, it’s boring and full of celestial harmonies. He’s been there.

But if Crowley gets to decide that salvation is the freedom to blast Queen while going 90mph in the middle of London with his favorite book hoarding angel by his side…

He doesn’t need someone else to give that to him.

And I think that that’s rather lovely.

[confessionsofa-roleplayer]

Communication in the RPC is so fickle. Hypocrites everywhere tbh and it's a shame that you were one of them. When you suddenly removed me from all contact, discord and Tumblr without a word despite being real friendly a few days prior, I have to admit I was surprised and a little taken aback by it. Not a single word, no conversation, no nothing about what could have caused it or why but I can take a gaze. I'm pretty sure I did 0 of the things you mentioned that would warrant a soft or hard block in your rules list but oh well. I'm not one who can say for sure because you didn't say a thing. Maybe it's better that way. While you're not obligated to tell me everything, it definitely sent a message to me. All your talk about communication and working things out and checking in of something really bothered you lol and how you're an adult on these matters. I know how you treated a friend of mine, I know how you did this to another mutuals too despite her being very clear about what was going on in her life on dash. While I'm all for unfollowing if you feel like things aren't working because of lacking engagement, comfort and so on-- you were a hypocrite. You ask for communication and offer none yourself, this told me all I need to know about you and that most of your talk about communication was pretty much bullshit. Unfortunate, I was fond of you as a friend despite how spotty and slow I've been through the years. If you expected me to come to you via Tumblr IMs and ask you why you did any of that? You immediately messed that right up by unadding me without a single word. Like I said, it told me everything I need to know. It's a surefire way to make sure I never reach out to you again and if that was your intent, good work. If not, that's in you. Only you can fix it now so I'll level this in your play field-- you come to me if you want change, I want chase you in part to respect your clear intent, but also because you're the one who walked off. You can walk back on your own. I'm not interested in power plays, and that sort of thing always struck me that way. Maybe I feel that way because of terrible past experiences with deranged mutuals who would pull that stunt and it developed into a toxic harassment shit storm aimed at me. I believe you're at least better than that, but who knows for sure. What I can't stand is someone who, rp partner or friend, talks so much about communication and wanting to make sure things work or that we part on an okay note, only to be an outright hypocrite about it and ghost without a word. After nearly two years of associating with you in the RPC, I now know that you were kind of two faced on this, and that your own rules don't really apply to you despite what you said. You make sure they're applied to everyone else, and act like you have to play no part in crossing this two-way street. If I hurt you or pissed you off; certainly can't help you now. If you wanted something that I lacked the ability to provide for some time because I've been struggling to be around, do anything on this cesssite where I too have been let down and burnt out-- I'm sorry at least on that. make of that what you will, you've already made your choice.

[deepwithintheabyss]

Man, I wish I was isekaied into your wip, that sounds awesome

hehehhehehe yes

someone in a discord server said a sentence that wouldn't leave me alone and before I knew it I had typed out 450 words on my phone (I don't write on my phone) here have that 45o word snippet and know that I am writing more

"What is the Princess to good for that?" he hears Red say behind him. Hood wants to snap at him but he's completely caught of guard by the molten heat that settles in his groin. So he only manages to grate out an annoyed "Don't call me that" a sentence everyone knows not to say if you want to avoid more teasing. "What?" Red Robin taunts "A pretty little girl? Too good to do her job properly." Jason is glad for the fact that he isn't arrogant enough to go out without a cup, for how fast he's starting to fill it out with each new word that falls from Red Robins mouth. He wants to lash out, he wants to hear more of this. He needs to get his shit together and stop this now. Setting his hands on his hips is a reminder and a threat. Hes a big burly man with guns on his hips, he's the feared vigilante Red Hood, he's not going to be taken down by some mocking *nickname* of all. This time, when he hisses "Shut Up" Red Robin listens, maybe it's the threat of being shot, the way his voice cracks and the helmet garbles it out. Makes it sound more angry than he is. Or it's because Hood leaves immediately afterwards and Red doesn't even come to quip anything again. The words stay with him. He wants to forget them and brush it all off. But he can't ignore how they made heat pool in his belly, how the words sparked something in him that felt *good* and nice. Jason is a man, he knows he is a man. So he doesn't know why it's appealing to him, the thought of dressing up in pretty *feminine* things and to be called pretty for it. But, he isn't one to deny himself things that make him feel good. He grasps at them as hard as he can and cradles them close. For he does not get many good things. So it takes no time at all for him to buy some sheer thighs fit for his size and trying them on. Its awkward and weird and he doesn't like how the material pulls at his leg hair. but it's *perfect* and awesome and makes him feel pretty when he runs his hands down his legs and admires himself in the mirror. Pretty little feminine lace comes after. It takes longer for him to get over himself and buy it. It feels like a waste of money, something he can less justify as being possible needed on a mission in the future. But he still powers through. Admires the way it frames his pecs and makes then look more soft and round than they are. How the panties frame his bulge and accent his hips, even if the fabric digs a little too much in the fat there.