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Nightlife In A Cloak Of Feathers

@jackdaw-kraai

Hello and Welcome! My name is Jackdaw Kraai, Kraai if you're feeling particularly formal, Jack if you're not. Use pronouns as you wish, though I like to stick to the classic he/him, they/them. I'm the writer of the Guides Verse as well, and always welcome asks about it!
Unless specifically stated otherwise, I do not participate in ask games, @ games, or reblog fundraisers on request.
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Daughter of fantasy villains decides to rebel against her parents by actually going through with her arranged marriage to a local golden retriever of a prince instead of running off with some local villain-to-be or conquering said golden retriever’s kingdom and ruling it solo like her parents expect her to. Plus, sue her, she’s into the clean-cut earnest look.

At the same time, local prince charming discovers that he’s actually very into the gothic fiance his parents have landed him with in order to try and establish peace with the local evil lair down the lane, he would never have guessed a spiderweb pattern could look so fetching on a ball gown…?

Meanwhile, two pairs of parents in a tizzy because they both expected their offspring to whole-heartedly reject this union and give them an excuse to conquer their goody-two-shoes/evil neighbours, they’re not supposed to actually like each other-!

respective friend groups undergoing culture clash like all of prince charming’s knights are like what vile spell has been used to ensorcel our prince.  we must be on our guard for surely this is but a ruse for an assassination attempt

meanwhile the villain bride’s friends are all like clearly he loves you not, why do you persist in a manner that will ensure your own heart break, i mean if he was taking this seriously there would be at least three assassination attempts by now.  it’s like he doesn’t even notice that you have massive amounts of dark power to covet for his own

smashcut to

fully armored knight, clanging through the hallways in attempts at stealth, blades drawn: i’m just saying, i took an oath of protection.  this feels wrong.

prince charming: it’s not wrong, it’s celebrating cross cultural traditions for my beloved bride

knight: it’s attempted murder

prince charming: it’s a loving attempted murder

@chucktaylorupset  Meanwhile the bride has a bouquet of roses, cornflowers, and wheat sheaves on her desk in her room, and she’s not coming out until she’s written a beautiful and moving poem about how they favourably compare to her groom. It’s been three days. She’s gone through an entire raven’s worth of quills (unethically sourced). The ‘toads who used to be my friends’ list has gone up by one. But she’s bent dark forces and eldritch spirits to her will and, by the powers obscene, this will not be the thing that breaks her.

Sorceress friend: Please, just get him an amulet that will double his power at the cost of his soul, no one’s worth this.

Rebellious villainess: (nearly in tears) No, he brought his best knights to the castle and tried to kill me last week, at midnight, I can’t ignore something like that! He even kicked Cathulhu!

Sorceress friend: He nudged it with his foot. And then he apologized to it. In tears.

Rebellious villainess: (actually in tears now, for reasons of feels instead of poetic torment) He’s trying so hard!!!

Villainess: Beloathed, I need a goat.

Prince: Of course, darling - may I inquire as to what for?

Villainess: Blood sacrifice to the dark gods, you know how it is.

Prince: …

Prince: …darling, you know I support your lifestyle choices, but I must say this before it potentially happens.

Prince: I’m not all right with human sacrifice. That’s one of my boundaries. I don’t know if you do that or not, but it seemed a topical time to bring it up.

Villainess: (carefree laugh) Oh beloathed, don’t worry yourself about such things, I would never!

Villainess: (leading him off to the goat market) Only incompetents use actual humans. Skilled practitioners of the dark arts know that a goat is not only a sufficient sacrifice, but the superior one.

Prince: You don’t say? Fascinating!

@sapphire-monkey One of the nobles against the marriage in the prince’s kingdom invites the villainess to a local village’s blessing ritual, secure in the knowledge that it’s not only custom to wear the absolute palest white or undyed linen/woolen clothing one owns, it’s a requirement of the ritual and sacrilegious to do otherwise. Let’s see you deal with that miss all-black-wardrobe.

She arrives in diaphanous white silk edged with lace that gives the impression of beautifully tattered hems, all of it drifting gently around her on the spring breeze to give the feeling of a wraith from a haunted castle or something of the such. While not her personal cup of tea, she finds the ritual very moving, and absolutely understands why its one of her beloathed’s favorites.

One of the nobles from her kingdom, meanwhile, decides, fuck it, and just turns the prince into a frog. It takes her two minutes to find and fix him.

Villain noble: How.

Villainess: True love’s kiss, bitch.

Villain noble: (seethes)

The prince, meanwhile, pissed off the entire villainous court for the recent engagement ball that was held by knowing and responding accordingly to all the proper threats and insults. He studied before doing this, and he’s not going to shame darling in front of her peers! Bastard even managed to subdue his chivalry long enough to flirt with one of her friends right in front of her, how dare he be so considerate and sensitive to her needs like that-!?

First time the Prince finds out Villainess can transform into a gigantic fire-breathing dragon is a very O_OU moment for him.

Villainess: Are you surprised I can? It’s a common ability.

Prince: I didn’t want to assume.

Villainess: …

Prince: (sweats)

Villainess: …you’re picturing me turning into a dragon and riding on my back into battle, aren’t you?

Prince: N-no, no, of course not-!

Villainess: (drapes in his lap) It’s okay, we’d look fantastic. (sly expression) And probably scary enough to get the enemy forces to surrender without any needless bloodshed.

Prince: (sweating) Darling, are you trying to tempt me into putting you into a position where you could be injured in battle?

Villainess: A little. :3 (more seriously) But it is also on the table if we ever need to defend our throne. It’s the sort of thing that form’s for, really.

Prince: If you’re comfortable with it, then very well, it shall be added to the list of acceptable strategies.

(comfortable cuddling for a moment)

Prince: I imagine you make a very majestic dragon.

Villainess: (preening) I really do.

Prince: Perhaps we should have a tapestry done of it, then? It could hang opposite the one of my family’s crest in the throne room when we someday ascend the thrones ourselves.

Villainess: 8O! Beloathed, I would adore a tapestry of that! (cuddles further against him) Oh, and across from your family crest! That would be such a slap in the face to my parents, having a tapestry of me there instead of their own crest.

Prince: (hadn’t thought of it that way, but is happy that she’s happy)

Villainess comes in one night thoroughly out of sorts because her stupid cousin’s decided to make a move on her rights to the souls of their ancestors, and the jerk’s competent enough to actually have a potential chance at getting them, too, like he’d even wear the necklace of jewels they’re trapped in-!!!

The Prince listens patiently to her frustration until she’s finished, then considers for a few minutes.

“Darling, about that banquet your family’s having next fortnight - will your cousin be in attendance?”

“Yes, he’ll be using it to lay the groundwork of his plans. Why?”

“Would it be all right if I popped in for a bit? And was rather more… myself than I usually am around your parents?”

“…I suppose it’d be all right.”

“Wonderful!” (kisses her hand) “Perhaps wear those full-arm gloves your friend got you for the event - the ones that allow you to handle blessed objects without them interfering with your dark powers?”

“Well now I’m just curious. I shall do as you request, beloathed.”

The night of he shows up to the banquet positively radiating charm, good will, and benevolence, decked out in full armor that’s glowing slightly. Oh this? It’s the ancestral trappings of one of his relatives who was a champion of the stellar deities, those who guide ones who have become lost in darkness? He’s not a holy champion himself, but he is a fully-realized warrior of light and family, so he’s permitted to wear it at times. Oh yes, he completed his warrior of light trials when he was eighteen, when on a quest and everything! That’s where he earned his sword - it’s actually a shard of sunlight, you know, not metal. That’s why he’s called Prince of the Sun and Stars sometimes - bit of a grandiose title, really, but the artists and poets enjoy playing with the imagery, and who is he to deny them, especially when Darling is so fond of the stars herself! There’s a lass in one of the kingdom’s villages doing a portrait of the two of them together playing with that motif, actually, and it looks like it’s going to to be absolutely lovely when it’s done-

And he continues to be cheerful, charming, and just the nicest, most polite guy for the time he’s there while also reminding everyone in no uncertain terms that, for as long as the forces of evil have been trying to quash the forces of good, his side has been working at the opposite. And his side tends to win more often. And maybe it would be wise not to pick a fight with Darling because he’d hate to have to do battle with a potential in-law in the path of supporting her family’s traditions regarding people who cross them…

Jerk cousin is thoroughly cowed out of making an attempt at the family-filled jewels, and Villainess’s friends are standing with her off to the side going, “Okay, beginning to see what you see in him now.” Villainess herself is walking around with on safely-gloved hand on his arm as he intimidates the hell out of everyone she knows in order to help her protect what’s hers, swooning a little bit inside the whole time.

(Hers might be more diversely applicable, but Villainess isn’t the only one bringing something to the table in terms of power. Prince is generally more useful for things like getting birds to sing in chorus or making friends with bunnies, but his family does specialize in slaying evil. She may be skilled at facing enemies of all sorts, but he’s prepared specifically for anyone in her home court who might try to backstab her.)

@ninjakittenarmy  Is the gown made of actual spider silk. Because that sounds fitting, especially since spider silk is actually a really good material.
Princess: “You like it? It’s made of giant spider silk straight from the underdark!”
Prince: Oh uh that’s really- wait, you can make clothes out of spider silk?
Princess: Yeah! It’s really tough too! You can even make light armor out of it.
The two have a several hours long conversation about spider agriculture. The prince receives spider silk under armor as a wedding gift.

Oh my gods, yes, absolutely!

@imaginapalminthemorning  #Addams family origin story 

Congratulations, you are officially the smartest person on the entire thread, holy flip-?!?

Villainess is chilling in Prince’s court one day and a lady of the court storms up to her in tears, make-up running, and is just, “One of your friends turned my fiance into a newt, a newt, and he fell in the moat before I could catch him and I don’t know how to find him, or how to change him back if I do find him, and the library only has information on frog and bear transformations, and no one knows what to to do and you’re the only person who might know what to do, please help me-!” (bursts into inconsolable tears)

This throws Villainess through a loop, people don’t tend to whole-heartedly throw their trust in others like this at her place, this is super unsettling, so she just responds in the way she usually would, “Oh? And what price are you willing to pay?”

Anything.”

…ooooooooh that is so, so tempting, why are people in this court so earnest, don’t they realize that the reason the higher nobles are worried about her marriage to their prince is the very real potential that she could use this opportunity to cast their country and its people into a thousand years of ruin and despair, bare minimum…?! But it would make Darling unhappy if she’s too mean about this, so, “How about your dignity, then? First off, we’ll have to get you out of that dress…” (seductive smirk and cock of the hips)

Court lady: (still in tears but hands immediately go to her bodice laces to start undoing)

Villainess: (grabbing her hands) OKAY, WHOA, HOLD UP, WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF COURT, HAVE SOME STANDARDS!!! Just- just go put on something you don’t mind getting all messed up, we’re going to have to get in the moat a bit for this, and even the edges are all muddy.

Court lady: Oh. (sniffles) Okay. Thank-you.

They spend the next three hours dredging around the moat to find the right newt and then perform the right ceremony to turn him human again. He appears naked and covered in mud and court lady unabashedly flings herself into his arms, sobbing in relief this time, and it’s disgustingly wholesome and romantic.

Newt Lordling: (once he’s finished doing a bit of sobbing of his own into his fiance’s hair) Wait, aren’t you Neskatina’s friend? Could you tell her that my sister likes daffodils? Girls, and daffodils? I tried to tell her myself, but the newt thing happened before I could get past asking her to stop with the threatening letters. We- we really don’t send those around here unless we mean it, she’s been finding it a bit upsetting. Daffodils would be much better received.

Villainess: …noted.

I thought about them more and… there’s no way Court Lady isn’t going to decide to be friends with Villainess after all this, is there? She helped her save her fiance when she thought him lost to her forever and had nowhere else to turn, they did what amounts to a mini quest together, they’re friends now. Villainess has no idea how to handle it when the next court function comes along and Court Lady scampers over (tear-free this time) and proceeds to spend a decent amount of the evening with her just being… so unabashedly friendly. It’s unnerving.

Prince: She’s grateful to you and wants to be friends.

Villainess: (glowering suspiciously) Sounds fake.

Prince: She thinks you’re nice.

Villainess: Disgusting.

She still goes when Court Lady invites her on a trip to the meadows with some of the other ladies to pick greens, all of them surprised by the discovery that going out to gather flowers and useful herbs and such is something ladies from both courts do from time to time (though for very different reasons). It’s common sense to wear an older outfit that’s all right to get a bit grass- or mud-stained (ladies from the Prince’s court call them their ‘daisy dresses,’ Villainess and her friends call them ‘gathering gowns’), and Villainess is kind of shocked that the pretty nobles from her beloathed’s court do this sort of thing.

The ladies all titter, then it’s story time, because you can bet most of them have a heroic/clever/wise relative somewhere in the family tree who was born a peasant and married or gained nobility for some feat or other, and it’s fun to have someone new in the group who hasn’t heard all the stories before. Villainess is surprised again, because she does actually know some of these stories, but from the relatives of the villain involved (usually told in a ‘you’ll never guess what so-and-so’s idiot relative got thwarted over’ sort of tone). Going on outings like this helps you stay connected to your roots!

Also, Court Lady turns out to be the daughter of the royal apothecary and has a deep knowledge of the properties of various mushrooms. She even knows about poisons because they’re used in medicine sometimes. Villainess might be starting to like her as a person.

Another lady finds a patch of old teasels and braids them into a crown for Villainess, because “They’re all dark and spiky, and about the same colour as your daisy dr- ah, your gathering gown! We tend to make each other flower crowns when we go out, but I thought you might like these better.”

Villainess: …won’t they get deceptively yet horribly tangled in my hair, making the crown stay on well but an absolute nightmare to take off?

Lady: (terrified that she’s judged wrong) Yes…?

Villainess: (trying so hard not to be horribly touched, she’s just allergic to all these non-lethal flowers, that’s why she’s suddenly feeling sniffly) That’s really thoughtful of you.

To get a touch spicy - both are shocked to discover that their fiance is under the belief that the alignment they’re not a part of invented bondage.

Prince: It had to have been a villain that invented it, your side’s the one that gets all clever with ropes and knots and everything!

Villainess: No no no, it must have been your side, because safe words and after care!

They are both very perplexed, but also in absolute agreement that they will not be asking their parents about this.

(Because why go with the trope ‘good folks are vanilla in bed and evil folks are spicy’ when you could go with ‘actually one’s moral alignment has no effect on what they’re into in bed and actually it’s a pretty even division of spiciness levels all around’ and have both groups get tripped up by the discovery?)

@moviegirlsincedisney​   #amazing #I need comics and books and a tv show #also I imagine after neskatina has sent a bouquet of daffodils with a black ribbon binding them together #she receives a letter threatening her for turning the lordling into a newt from the sister #It’s filled with scathing comments the likes of which neskatina has never heard from the lips of the Good Folk #at the end of the letter written in tiny print is a post script saying ‘did I do it right? you’re cute’ #Neskatina is disturbed when instead of ruining the effect of the whole letter she is instead only further endeared

^Yes, all of this, good, canon!!!

This has gotten infinitely better since the last time I saw it.

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frothlad

It’s the fantasy equivalent of Ensign Stabby.

You just- just came for me like that, right from the hip, didn’t even blink, I’m never going to recover and I’m so flattered, thank-you!

[Image ID:] A short comic of someone with pointy ears wearing a hat reading something from their laptop, which results in them pulling their hat over their head and screaming. [End ID]

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hurdy-girly

There’s that semi-common trope in a lot of stuff where the King’s advisor turns out to be super evil, right? I imagine that could play back into this, where the Prince’s father’s advisor is like. Visibly evil and malicious and conniving, complete with backhanded comments and an unsettling name. And Villainess finally meets him and realizes this immediately. She personally finds him to be one of the most tolerable people in the castle, but she is a bit concerned that the Prince doesn’t know and that this man could cause some out of place stress to her Beloathed. Eventually she decides to tell him, and so later that night she asks about it.

Villainess: Beloathed, what do you think of your father’s advisor?

Prince: Him? Oh, he’s been with the family since my father was a boy. He practically raised Father when my grandfather fell ill. We are lucky to have him with us.

Villainess: …are you aware that he’s evil?

Prince: Hm? Oh, yes.

Villainess, now a bit confused: And you haven’t removed him from the job? I would have assumed that your people would not tolerate this kind of darkness, especially so close to power.

Prince, shrugging: It’s kind of a tradition, to be honest. The King’s advisors have all been evil for… well, centuries now. It’s something that mostly goes unspoken. The position tends to corrupt people. Eventually he will reveal a daring plot, and I will defeat him to protect the light and discover something new about the side of good.

Villainess: Hmm. I suppose that makes sense.

And later on the Villainess begins to foil the advisor’s plans, mostly because all of them are mediocre and her beloathed deserves a much more challenging trial than that. The Prince is touched that the Villainess is putting this much attention into such a small, unspoken tradition. The advisor is very confused and upset because “what do you mean that was a bad plan, I even included poison!”

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radwolf76
you KICK cathulhu? you kick her e̵l̷d̶r̸i̵t̷c̸h̵ ̴f̴o̵r̸m̸ like ye olde foote ball? oh! oh! dungeon for prince! dungeon for prince for a̸̧̪͑ ̶̨͍̐͑t̸͎͒͊h̵͆̔ͅo̷͙͎̿ǔ̴̞͔ṣ̶̜̔͠a̵̭͗͜n̴̰̜̍̒d̴̘͂ ̷̙̗͐y̴͓͐͜e̵̗̓̏a̶̳͎͂r̵͚̈́́ś̵͎͊!
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quilldesignz

8O!!! GUYS, ANOTHER SET OF DESIGNS FOR THESE TWO JUST DROPPED AND THEY’RE GORGEOUS!!!! How is everyone who draws these two so good at character design, holy flip, she looks so elegant and menacing, and the design of his armor is fan-

(notices his hand)

Is- oh gods, he’s wearing a ring in the same colour as her jewels, oh that’s such a beautiful, subtle little touch, I love it!

(Also, one of the odd little things I like best about this piece? Somehow these versions of the couple just look like they’d get along with @nananarc’s version of them. They’re both very distinct takes, but they all feel like they could inhabit the same world, which I choose to interpret as both artists managing to fully encapsulate the vibe of this setting and its characters while also putting their own spins on it. Wonderful!)

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nananarc

Hell yeh they’s totally get along!!! *insert spiderman meme here

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spare thought for the enslaved shepherds in greek mythology/tragedy who rescue the exposed doom babies... sometimes they know why the baby was left to die, sometimes they don't. they just — it's a baby. no one else wants it. you can't leave it here. what harm could it do. it's a baby. you want it to live. it's a baby

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doomedideas

Nobody will ask what i was thinking in that moment. For one‚ they ask me nothing anyways. Not honestly. ''Are you truly so foolish?'' and ''How could you?'' are not questions seeking answers.

For another‚ i will be dead by the time they learn what I have done.

I am no fool. Joyous cheers over the queen's pregnancy being hushed overnight‚ a sense of mourning that no one dares to speak on‚ sacrifices burning until the rays of Helios begin to breach the mountains. It is not an auspicious time for finding a babe abandoned on a rock in the woods. I find him anyways. The queen's eyes are known to be the amber of the purest olive oil, and I can see it reflected in his as he blinks up at me, skin so bronzed it almost glows in the bright dawn. I know his father as soon as I lay eyes on him, on the way the light itself seems to bend so as to fit in his curled fist. I disregard the knowledge just as quickly.

I know the tales. I know the fates. I know the consequences. Nobody will ask me what I was thinking. They'll never have the chance, and they never would've thought to ask me of my role. My choice. I do not know what prophecy has been wrought. It will not have mentioned a shepherd, except in omission- for the babe must survive to adulthood somehow, to cause whatever terrible calamity they foresaw. It will happen if I pick him up or not, I am sure. It does not matter if I bring him home with me. The ending is surely the same.

I give him a name. It will be forgotten when he discovers his birthright, I am sure. I name him anyways. I trade wool for milk, alter clothes I can do without, line a bassinet with the softest fleece, and try my best not to pray. Someday I will die tragically, so that he may go off on his own. Someday he will meet the fate that has been written for him. Someday I will be cursed for my foolishness, keeping him alive when I should have left him to rot. Someday the story will end in tragedy. It does not matter.

He was just a babe.

He will grow up loved.

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What are some chronic illnesses that can only occur in a fantasy setting?

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beleester
  • Partial transformation - mummy rot is slowly turning you to sand, a near miss from a medusa left you with partially stoned body parts, etc.
  • Hypnotic suggestions from being mind controlled persist after the controller’s death, causing the victim to occasionally take actions to support the cause of a mind flayer cult that no longer exists.
  • Repeated demonic possession has left the patient with permanent gaps in their soul’s defenses, causing them to immediately get re-possessed if they go outside a consecrated area.
  • Post-resurrection trauma as the revived soul remembers an unpleasant afterlife.
  • Magical healing can get very weird if something is stuck in the wound. It’ll get you back on your feet, but you can get outcomes like “there’s a chunk of wood fused into your chest because the magic couldn’t figure out how to get the arrow out of your chest and just healed it in place,” and this can cause mobility issues or infection vectors down the line.
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ihasafandom
  • SHealth tied to something else - the health of a tree, the amount of frost on the ground, the inverse of another person’s, the political power of whoever cursed you
  • Curse of bad luck - makes any small illness or injury potentially fatal if not treated with anti-curse in addition to anti-infection procedures
  • Magical reliance on a magical or nonmagical substance - can have any number of side effects
  • Repeatedly being drunk by vampires can cause an increase in blood production and therefore high blood pressure and related ailments. Can be treated by blood letting.
  • There’s a lot of hybridization happening in a lot of fantasy settings, and that’s just asking for a lot of people with weird half-dragon genetic disorders. Works out fine for some people, not so much for others.
  • Parasitized by (insert creature here). If you don’t take the correct precautions to keep it dormant it will continue to spread and eventually hatch out/transform you.
  • Repeated contact with the undead has left you open to their influence - leading to hearing or seeing things that other mortals can’t, which can distort or distract from more mundane concerns.
  • Alternately to being more vulnerable to intrusion, one’s soul can form a scar that makes helpful magic more difficult to take in.
  • Sleep disorders that make one fall into an impenetrable sleep at a specific trigger, or to do so for years at a time.
  • Out of phase with 4D space, one’s body not connected to itself or anchored in place/time in the usual way. There could be a consistent two hour gap between the things you hear and what has happened, you might clip into the floor as if it was in a different place for you, or you might slide through the material plane in cross section.
  • Intermittent intangibility.
  • Split into two people, each with only half your traits.
  • Stuck in a mirror.

Sensitivity to ambient magic - like the thing where peoples’ joints ache before a storm but for being near ley lines or people with a lot of magic built up or other magic reservoirs. - The potential for magic, but where the magic has not yet begun.

  • Heal spell dependency: years of repeated serious injuries being healed by magic causes the body to stop healing naturally. seen often in professional fighters and those with a long career in hazardous occupations.
  • the forgotten dread: memory modification magic has caused the subject’s conscious mind to forget some past trauma, but their subconscious still remembers, causing them emotions that they cannot explain or justify ranging from mild discomfort to blind panic when presented with triggers related to the aforementioned trauma. often encountered in cases where the subject has paid an unscrupulous mage to make them forget their past as an ill-advised alternative to therapy.
  • Psychically Transmitted Memories: the subject’s mind has been linked to another person’s and, although the bond has since been severed, they have retained memories or thought patterns from the other person that are difficult to distinguish from their own.
  • Negative Life Syndrome (previously “False Life Syndrome”): seen most often in cases when the subject is exposed to dark magic while in the womb, Negative Life Syndrome leaves the subject’s life energies tainted by undeath without making them truly undead. common symptoms include intolerance of radiant magic, aversion to sunlight, and the inability to set foot on hallowed ground; rare symptoms include healing from negative energies, sudden necrosis, and the desire to eat flesh or drink blood of living beings.
  • lycanthropy
  • Early Life Possessions: the subject was possessed by a spirit or demon during early childhood or infancy, and the possessing presence was in control of them when they learned important milestones, such as how to walk or speak. The subject is now dependant upon the possessing presence to help them perform these tasks or, in cases where the presence has since been exorcised, performs the relevant tasks at a level appropriate for an infant or small child.
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kiragecko
  • Body requires nutrients not found in human food, and you must eat rocks, or gems, or some other alternative. You may or may not have the ability to actually digest these without magical assistance
  • Awareness of too many dimensions makes it difficult to interact with just this one - either to keep track of conversations, or walk to specific locations without ending up on another planet instead
  • Telekinetic psychosis - delusions tend to physically affect those around you (but HIGH chance for ableism in this one!)
  • you have flare-ups where your skin tends to slough off and be replaced by some other substance
  • After sharing life energy with a dying loved one, you’re now both trying to survive off one person’s supply. Like chronic fatigue, but if your loved one gets too big of a bruise you won’t have the energy to get up until it heals
  • living in reverse
  • stuck at a certain age
  • supersenses lead to constant overstimulation
  • you’re a changeling, and if you don’t have someone who loves you close by, you’ll turn back into sticks and mud
  • Foreign instincts, by way of possession, transformation, or other altering experience, you are now struck by instincts that do not fit your current species or social situation, everything from a compulsion to burrow, to making inappropriate sounds in social interaction like screeching, chittering chirps, to seeing members of one's own species as a viable food source. Management requires extensive behavioral therapy, as well as redirection of urges to more suitable outlets. In extreme cases, constant supervision may be necessary to prevent one from engaging in harmful or felonious behaviors towards oneself or others.
  • Chronic divine blessings, a god has taken a particular liking, animosity, or interest to you, and being an unknowable entity, bestowed upon you some characteristic as fickle as its favor normally would be, but isn't for you, no matter what you do. Can be a double-edged sword, can be purely beneficial, can be outright detrimental. Umbrella term for symptoms as variable as the gods are. Management requires custom tailoring to the patient, as well as the guidance of at least one specialist and relevant religious figure working in tandem by law. A cure for the condition can range anywhere from moderately taxing, to impossible, as the deity in question may be liable to turn their blessing into a curse for the perceived impertinence and ungratefulness.
  • Perpetual wandering, something, be it a curse or other vector of infection, has caused one to need to travel in a nomadic existence, or suffer adverse reactions to their health. Time of continued residence in one location varies, from mild or particularly well-managed cases allowing for continued residence measured in years, to extreme cases measured in days or less. A life-altering affliction, needless to say, that impacts one's ability to build a career, social circle, family, and many other necessities for one's quality of life. Management can take the form of remote work, work suitable to a transient lifestyle, finding suitable arrangements with one's loved ones, and specialized care to reduce symptoms, although retaining a specialist outside of the dedicated nomadic network can prove difficult.
  • Chronic visual de-synchronization, where one perceives a different moment in time than they are physically present in. Can result in one perceiving competent adults as improbably skilled and experienced infants, or ambulatory corpses in various stages of decay. Extreme cases can even result in complete visual dissonance as one perceives their surroundings in different eras of planetary time, resulting in the perception of primordial seas, mountains, and other natural features that either no longer exist or only will in the far future, as well as an inability to reliably navigate the present by sight. Adaptations common to blindness are often required, as well as a negation of sight if the individual so wishes it through various means.
  • Astral projection lockout, where one cannot reenter one's own body during astral projection of the spirit. Episodes may be temporary, may be recurring, or may be chronic depending on the circumstances in which it occurred. Should the condition persist, the spirit may learn to interact with the material plain once more through methods consistent with various forms of haunting, necessitating extended-life-support protocols in most reputable hospitals when a patient enters a coma to allow a potential spirit to reach said stage. While obviously debilitating if chronic and psycho-physical therapy has proved ineffective, in cases where proper and extended guidance was given to the spirit, even then they may regain partial control of the body through manipulating various assistant devices.
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the angel staying over at my house asked for a nightlight in their room and i told them buddy, don't you produce your own light? what're you gonna do with more? and they said they wanted to see why people like it so much. and also that the nightlight i own is blue and they're been trying to understand color. anyways i think they've stared at it for an hour now

the angel staying over at my house said their eyes hurt from staring, so i took them to the store to get some eye drops. well midway through the medicine aisle i turned around to see them flashing in and out of colors like a combusting star, so i asked them what was up without looking directly at them. they told me that there were too many people at the store and they forgot how they looked. which. is understandable to be honest they've only been on earth for a little over 24 hours. my phone started to melt a little when i showed them pictures of themself, but my hand feels fine even though they held it while calming down. they're currently resting and i am not sure what to do with 5 empty bottles of eye drops

the angel staying over at my house has been eating my food for the past few days and i don't really know if they can taste it because the food sort of bursts into ash and fire before it reaches their mouth? but they seem to enjoy eating it or at least watching me cook. they tried to help me fry some onions earlier but the stove flame turned from blue to white and the onions started crackling instead of sizzling so they backed off. however they have the ability to chop garlic like a pro

the angel staying over at my house is taking daily walks with me around the neighborhood and i don't think they know about animals yet. we were going past someone's house and this labrador started barking at us. normal, right? but the angel staying over at my house asked me if that was music. and i had to stop and think about that one for a second. in the end i said it can be music to us, it's just that the dog doesn't know it (and may never know it, which is a real tragedy). then they asked me what's a dog

the angel staying over at my house went to the library with me and they wanted to know if humans actually dream or if that was something people made up for television. guess what the staff told us that the full name of the angel staying over at my house couldn't be printed on a library card so i just said well couldn't we have one anyways? and now we do but it's really like the first third of their name and not written correctly. oh well. i have to go help carry some huge books about neuroscience into the house

today the angel staying over at my house came up to me and started crying tears that melted through my carpet. told me they realised they wouldn't be able to use their library card after they left earth and i. i honestly forgot that was going to happen. but i told them hey dude that's just how humans feel too. can't read all the books, but the fact that you got to read some is worth bragging about, right? they could tell all of their angel friends about the cool stuff they've done. and they said that they used to think that the world was so small and that humans were being petty about missing earth but now they live here and they feel small too. and they're not sure what to tell their angel friends.

so i asked to hold their hand again. they didn't burn me this time, either. and i asked them if this moment felt small to them. they said it didn't.

anyways we made popcorn and watched it's a wonderful life. they told me that angels don't speak like that at all by the way

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nobody-duck

I tried to illustrate the second part

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I’m not even joking- has anyone ever done lovecraftian eldritch abominations that, like, go out of their way to avoid bothering humans?

 Because if you want to run with the “we’re like ants to them” metaphor, most people who aren’t total assholes are making, like, an active choice not to stomp on anthills or squash random bugs. They step over or around. And it’s not the bog-standard indifference of the genre, there’s an active thought process of “You’re not bothering me so I won’t bother you.” I want a story about people exploring an eldritch horror-city like Ryleh, and eventually it turns out that all the bizarre psychological torture and warping environs and all that are an elder god’s equivalent of trying to shoo out a fly or a spider without killing it. I want a story about how the empathy of an elder god is just as dangerous as it’s wrath.

oooooooooh

Gonna invite the wrath of an elder god myself here

It’s not really my genre but I did write that one story about the sun

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Cant have fucking shit in Detroit

Cant have shit

Okay so door saga

  • The only way into my building is through the front door which locks itself when closed. There's a back entrance but it's deadbolted from the inside. This means the only people who can get into the building are me, my cat sitter with the spare keys, and the people living in the other two units.
  • The door to MY unit now... has no doorknob. Impossible to get in.
  • There is a shared BACK hallway that leads to the shared basement/back entrance. My back door into this hall is always deadbolted. EXCEPT, fortuitously, right now, since neighbor (Molly) in unit 2 had heard Patches meowing when alone and offered to spend some time with her, so I had the cat sitter unlock the bolt.
  • This, LUCKILY, means there is A Way into my unit. But it requires getting into the building, then going THROUGH my neighbors' unit into the back hall, then up to my unit.
  • Cat sitter is effectively locked out from Patches, and won't be able to get in if not fixed by the next day.
  • Text neighbor about predicament. They're willing to look at my door bUT (it's Christmas) they're not home and not getting home until the next day.
  • Next day, text for an update but hear nothing. (Neighbors aren't attached to their phones much). Communicate with catsitter saying "okay if I don't hear back from neighbors, maybe you go over and I contact a locksmith who you can let in?" (since cat sitter has the keys to the building)
  • Catsitter is very not keen on the idea
  • Patches is unaware she's a prisoner.
  • Hear back from neighbors. Say they should be home around 5pm.
  • Okay... Good Enough... (Patches graze-feeds so Luckily she hasn't missed any meals but we're going on 24 hours of house arrest Patches).
  • 6pm comes. 7pm comes. 7:40pm I text asking for an update. Nothing.
  • 8:30pm I'm figuring out what friends I can call to break into my own house. Text neighbor again and notice this text doesn't go through.
  • Text neighbor's partner being like "hey sorry, can't seem to reach Molly--". Get a text back "Sorry this is Molly on David's phone! My phone died." Family Christmas plans ran late but they're on their way back and will be home soon. Thank goodness.
  • 9pm-ish, they get back, give Patches attention and top up her food. I get a text "David fixed your door!" Woo!
  • Friday 5pm I finally get home
  • Lugging my suitcase up three flights of stairs while I hear Patches meowing like a dying Victorian child
  • Shoes off coat off suitcase down fish out keys unlock door grab doorknob
  • ...Doorknob falls off
  • Falls off right into my hands
  • Staring at doorknob. Staring at door. Patches meowing. Shove doorknob against door like an idiot and no it does not go back on.
  • Fucking
  • Go down flight of stairs, knock on Molly and David's door. David is luckily home. "My doorknob fell off again can I go home"
  • David lets me in. I scoot past their dogs and apparently I startled the more nervous one since she apparently tried to nip at me but I didn't even notice because I'm like my cat.
  • Get in through the back hall.
  • Patches comes bounding over.
  • My cat.
  • Doesn't even know she was a prisoner.
  • Doesn't even know what a doorknob is.
  • Later that night receive a text from neighbor apologizing for the dog and I'm like "I Did Not Even Notice."
  • Any attempt to leave my house now is perilous until I fix the doorknob.
  • Can't even leave my door cracked open because I know Patches is gonna shove her stupid little face through it and become the opposite of a prisoner.
  • I wanna go buy a reeces peanut butter cup but by god it's not worth the risk
  • I'm gonna try to fix the doorknob
  • Or... buy? a new doorknob?
  • On Amazon searching "doorknob".
  • Merry Christmas

You are completely right because I have now investigated the knob and can confirm the screw holding the knob to bar was loose. I have tightened the screw and it SEEMS fixed but I’m very Fool Me Once on this since my neighbor also thought they’d fixed it.

There is a Home Depot trip in my future. Or maybe an online purchase if Patches would get off my laptop

Merry Christmas I hope I know how to install a doorknob

Complication. Doorknob is here and I tried to install it, but because my door is older than God, the latch-majig (technical term) is offset like an inch higher than the knob. Modern doorknob has the latch LEVEL with the knob.

To swap in the new knob I'd need to cut a new knob-hole an inch higher in the door which

  1. With what tools
  2. That would leave an unused gaping doorknob-sized hole in my door which any robber the size of a weasel or smaller will use to rob my home. I don't need fucking Redwall in my home.
  3. Probably bad for the integrity of the door
  4. I don't wanna.

I think what I really want is just the knob like above tags said. Like the knob and the rectangular bar, which I can substitute in for my stripped-bare knob and rectangle bar. I WOULD do this with the new knob, but it's got two welded-on spokes poking out from the knob.

I can maybe drill two holes for the spokes in my door...?

(Squinting at shitty amazon listings trying to see if any knobs don't have the two spokes)

(I think the two spokes might be standard.)

Developing new respect for Jesus (carpenter).

In the meantime, because I'd already unscrewed a lot of things I DID take the genius action of flipping my current doorknob around.

This way the side that causes problems is on the INSIDE.

Doorknob fall of while INSIDE house significantly better than doorknob fall off while OUTSIDE.

I'm retightening all the screws.

Patches has offered no solutions.

So it does!

Never heard the term "spindle doorknob" before so I never would have found this on my own.

They're also all labeled "vintage" which extra feels right since my door predates the Cambrian Explosion.

Crowdsourcing my door fix on Tumblr dot com! Doorknob 2.0 is ordered.

At least 4,000 but we still got time

New doorknob should get here tomorrow, but in the meantime things in the notes of this post:

  • Several dozen stories of other people getting locked in/out of bathrooms/basements/classrooms/bedrooms/buildings. Extra shout out to the person whose classmate managed to do this twice, in rapid4reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesdweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
  • Patches is on my keyboard
  • whose classmate managed to do this twice, in rapid succession, to both sides of a classroom door after being saved the first time.
  • Several people taking this as a sign to go tighten their doorknob screws, including someone whose knob fell off in their hands while doing this
  • 10 or so people reading the "can't have shit in Detroit" meme to mean I live in Detroit. Sorry to confess I'm a fake Detroitite. Doxxing myself by 0.00001% more by informing the world I live in not-Detroit.
  • Many many people wondering why I'm not pestering my landlord about this. Truth is my landlord is way too sexy, cool, fashionable, smart, pretty, funny, and popular on Tumblr to it's me. It's me. I'm me I'm my landlord. It's my condo. Including, with immense regret, every single doorknob inside.
  • 3 separate professional locksmiths who have reached out offering advice, which is very cool. I have burst into a virtual hardware store clutching my shit doorknob and fainted, only to be caught by three very strong and cool locksmiths rushing to my aid.
  • Person with a story of dogsitting a friend's Tibetan Mastiff who managed to knock the entire backdoor down. Taking inspiration from this to train Patches in battering-ram techniques, should she ever get locked inside again.

DOORKNOB

ALSO MY PAPER TOWELS

(Ran out of paper towels)

Old knob coming off.

Wretched thing. Accursed knob of woe.

Get undid

New knob reign by forceful coup. Went to great pains to PRECISELY wait Patches is escaping

Patches retrieved

Anyway GREAT care was taken to ensure both knobs are ALIGNED, EVEN, SCREWED ON, with the wait hang on

Patches retrieved again.

Anyway

DOORKNOB SCREWED ON

KNOB

Still gonna keep the emergency screwdriver in the hall for probably the next month.

In conclusion look at my cat

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Boromir Lives AU: We Didn't Have a Choice

Alternate title is They're All Just Kids With PTSD, Your Honor

This (ridiculously long? omg why so long, I did not mean for it to be this long) comic is a good example of how my plotlines usually develop---I'll write what I think is a self-contained story and then realize there are whole new narratives beyond it. This is how my first novel, Woodwalker, became a trilogy---I was writing it as a standalone novel until about the last three or four chapters, when I realized I'd kicked off a whole new series of political events. For this AU, I was thinking about how it would feel for Elboron to grow up in the long shadow of his parents, and idolizing his uncle(s) while also wondering how he'd ever measure up. For Boromir, I think he'd be so fulfilled to see his nephew get to come of age in a gentler world that he and his brother and all the others didn't get. Though if he had a future as anything other than a soldier I'm pretty sure it would be as a TikTok star showing us how to create a perfect ballerina bun. Show us your products, Boromir, dang.

This comic also reminded me that I clearly have a distinct set of author tropes because this has STRONG Veran vibes (Sunshield, Floodpath), with a young character feeling overwhelmed with the legacies of his parents. This is a bit of an opposite arc, though--- Veran wants to follow in his mother's footsteps but isn't allowed to, and so gravitates toward diplomacy, while Elboron feels pressured to take up soldiering like his namesake but would rather study language. Come to think of it, the manuscript I turned into my agent a few weeks ago also has some of these themes, which either means I need to stop writing quest follow-ups or start a Protagonists With Heroes For Parents support group.

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

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reblogged

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

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lynati

jesus christ

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birbbyday

Read it

@millenniallust4death this seems like something you’d enjoy

Hey quick question: what the FUCK

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dduane

…Waiting for the UK’s National Lard Council to attempt this approach. :)

Well. That took an unexpected twist. A welcome twist. But good gods, who approved this? It's effective, but what??

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reblogged

You are working the gate in the afterlife and for the first time ever, something the humans built has shown up to be processed. You’re not sure what to do, this… entity shouldn’t have a soul, but here it is in front of you, freshly dead and awaiting the next life.

It’s not as exciting as it sounds, working at the pearly gates.

Sure, it’s satisfying to send the hypocrites and the assholes to hell. And it’s nice to see the ones who thought they were beyond redemption walk through into paradise.

So yeah, it has its perks. But not exciting. I mean, after the first million souls or so they all blur together, you know? You never get anything new. Animals all get sent right on through automatically and there’s nothing other then humans in our jurisdiction. Oh sure, there’s life other then humans. But that’s no my department.

I keep tads on humans on my lunch breaks. You’re a damn fascinating species, better then anything your “television” puts out. Although The Good Place was a little too relatable, I’ll give you guys that.

Anyway, one of my favorite things you guys came up with was the Space Race. I mean, what a nail biter! And it was so tense up until the end. Pity about those Apollo one guys, though. But I heard they got a kick out of watching the moon landing when it did happen.

Course, that sorta died down after a decade or so. Don’t know why you guys quit going to the moon.

And then you decided Mars was the place to be and started sending out all those rovers of yours. Not nearly as exiting as going yourselves, but as you all like to say, baby steps.

The rovers were surprisingly fun to watch. For mindless robots, they’ve got a lot of spunk. So I’d check in every once in while, but mostly I watched Earth. You guys had figured out how to work memes and it was a very amusing thing.

I was half way through a shift when it go here. I have no idea why none of the others I processed mentioned the thing, but death is confusing enough I guess.

It shouldn’t have been there. I want to make that clear, by no law of the universe should that thing have had a soul. You humans are where closer to making actual AI then you are sprouting wings. And you never even tried with this! Its job was to collect rocks!

And yet there is was, beeping up at me.

It didn’t look like a human soul. Or any other form of life that I had ever seen. It wasn’t damaged at all, or even afraid. That was the weirdest thing. You humans are always scared shitless by the time I see you. But this thing wasn’t. Even a little. It was just… curious. Like that’s all I could feel from it. Pure wonder.

I blinked a bit before flipping through my files, seeing if it was a new species or something. I found nothing, of course. Those idiots over in records never give us anything useful.

So I did the only thing I could do. I asked its name.

Now, you humans have come up with so many ways to say the same thing that I’ve had to learn a lot of languages to keep up. The newest was binary, which I never expected to actually need.

It came in handy, since that’s what the thing answered back in.

01001111 01110000 01110000 01101111 01110010 01110100 01110101 01101110 01101001 01110100 01111001

Opportunity.

I remembered that name. It had popped up in new reports regarding a Mars rover that went out of commission, sending the final message “my battery is low and its getting dark.” before dying.

Humanity had cried over it for a solid couple of days. You guys really like personifying objects.

But I had dismissed it as just that. But here it was. Waiting patiently for me to send it On.

I could just opened the gates and sent it through and put from my mind. Make the thing some else’s problem.

I didn’t.

I stood, crossed in front of my desk, and put out my hand to touch the strange soul.

Opportunity didn’t feel human. Nor animal. It felt…. simple. Calm.

I could feel an awearness of the love its chief engineer had felt for it. The pang of missing the workshop back on Earth where it had been built, during long nights on Mars.

It had dreamed. Dreamed of humans making it to Mars and finding it. Of it’s engineer taking it home and repairing it. Dreamed of exploring Earth as it had Mars.

I could purpose, and curiosity in its mission. Lonely as it was, it never doubted its purpose or resented its lot in life. It got to learn, and to see what had never been seen. What more could it ask for?

I could feel one tiny spec of fear. Near the end of its life, it realized it would never go home. Never see Earth or its engineer again. That it would die alone on Mars.

And like all things with a soul it did not want to die. It cried and mourned and begged to live. It was alive! It had a home and it wanted to go home! So badly did it want to go home.

But there was nothing to do, of course. Even its engineer, whom it loved so dearly, couldn’t reach Mars and bring Opportunity home.

It had watched one last sunset, and sent one last message.

A goodbye. And a plea to be mourned, if it could not be saved.

I withdrew my hand and looked over the soul. It looked up at me.

For the ones that I send upstairs, I take the form of whoever loved them most in life. I guess in that moment, I was in the form of an engineer at NASA. Opportunity seemed delighted to see me.

“Welcome home,” I gestured to the gates that swung slowly open behind me. “I missed you.”

It beeped out a single phase, 01001001 00100000 01101101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01100101 01100100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110100 01101111 01101111

I missed you too.

Before going forth, to explore the next life.

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ironwoman359

I am crying at work over an opportunity robot fanfiction. Humans are incredible.

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nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *loading a pistol* moon’s stuck in a time loop. do you have extra ammo? this won’t be enough. nasa employee: enough for…what? astronaut: *finding extra clip of ammo, pocketing it, and getting back on the rocket-ship* don’t worry about it!

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop. nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *emerging from supply closet with a space harpoon, getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut:   oh hey u guys are back early astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: what?  nasa employee: how did you know what i was going to say?  astronaut: *punching in key pad code for base evacuation signal, getting back on the rocket-ship* i told you…moon’s stuck in a time loop. *red warning lights begin flashing*

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: *rifling thru bookshelf of operating instructions, selecting one that says “AIRLOCK MANUAL OVERRIDE INSTRUCTIONS,” getting back on the rocket-ship* moon’s stuck in a time loop.

nasa employee: oh hey u guys are back early  astronaut: moon's stuck in a time loop.  nasa employee: what?  astronaut: moon’s stuck in a time loop. hey, do you have anything to eat? i’m starving. *opens random drawer, finds nothing, closes it* nasa employee: a time loo- uh, we don’t have food in here…we can’t…eat in the control room, only the break-room. astronaut: *sighs* nasa employee:…my lunch is in like 10 minutes, though, and if my lunch is actually STILL THERE and not STOLEN, AGAIN, i can share it with yo- astronaut: nah, that’s ok…no time. *loading a pistol and getting back on the rocket-ship* or…too much time. but thanks, anyway. OK, bye! *alarm begins blaring* nasa employee: you’re…welcome? wait, a TIME LOOP?!

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Campaign to make The God of Arepo an award winning work and win a literal brick as a trophy for the authors and for Tumblr community as a whole (SUCCEEDED!!!! Update below)

As the artist for one of The God of Arepo comics, my version is up for consideration for the Ignatz Awards for Outstanding Online Comic.

The thing is, winning the award means winning an actual literal brick. Because the mascot is a brick-throwing mouse. So they have to make a bit where the trophy is a brick. Like. Look.

For a long time I thought it was just plain bricks they were handing out, but my friend who won a couple of bricks two years ago had theirs stamped (I saw the bricks in person at their house). So now I am obsessed with the idea of The God of Arepo winning an Ignatz trophy. It will have the honours stamped. On a freaking brick. That's the most Tumblr level meme trophy this comic/story could win (which is also a legit high honour industry award on its own btw don't get me wrong). But wilder than that, the brick allows me to do something. It allows me to smash that break into 5 pieces and ship one of each to the authors plus myself. Writing Prompts, sadoeuphemist, ciiriianan, stu-pot and me will get a piece of clay in recognition for our work with the farmer who built a temple out of stone. The full circle moment.

Imagine the value of this win to the lore of this Tumblr sacred text/folklore. This brick will be smashed and given to the creators, but as a collective folklore, it's also dedicated to all of us on this hellsite too. AWARD WINNING. If The God of Arepo wins I will document the entire process of smashing that brick here.

But we have to make this happen. We need to gather our collective energy and make this campaign work. Please help make The God of Arepo an award-winning story and vote for it in the Outstanding Online Comic category (link). You will need to request a ballot, then submit your vote. I recommend checking out the other nominated comics too. The Ignatz really shortlists good stuff. The voting closes September 8 2023 . LET'S GET THE GOD OF AREPO A BRICK FOR HIS TEMPLE!! LET'S GO!!!! REBLOGS HELP TOO!!

THE GOD OF AREPO IS NOW AN AWARD-WINNING TUMBLR FOLKLORE!!!!!

WE GOT THE BRICK! WE ARE GETTING ARCHIVED INTO THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS!!! Hell yeah!! Making Tumblr history!!

I have a pretty strong idea now for how I want to smash up the brick and divide between us creators: the TL;DR is that I'm going to use the smallest pieces to build a cairn inside a pseudo-terrarium award stand. (x5)

Follow me if you want to witness the brick smashing and terrarium constructing.

But omg thank you everyone!! I had no idea if this campaign would work. I'm so honoured to be able to contribute this opportunity for everyone. :,)

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reblogged

Today's Adventure is that I, after an unintentional 13-hour power nap,

  • Got woken up at 6AM by a phone call from a friend stranded in Montana because of the heat wave and almost no cell service because of their crap provider.
  • OhSoThat'sHowIt'sGonnaBe.jpg
  • Ok.
  • I somehow summon a week's worth of spoons and in less than 30 minutes and 5 phone calls, get them
  • A hotel
  • An appointment with a mechanic from 2 states away
  • A perscription refilled from 2 states away
  • and A Pizza
  • Go me.
  • But then it's 8AM and there are unscheduled live humans at the door and while EVERGENCY MODE is still on, I have already blown through a ton of spoons, and also probably shouldn't meet whoever it is wearing just a pair of bootyshorts that say "CRYPTID" in Gothic Font on my ass.
  • So I greet them in those shorts and a T-shirt that I manage to put on both inside out and backwards
  • #nailedit
  • It is, Fortunately, not the mormons.
  • it is, Unfortunately, two UPS guys trying to deliver my other in-house friend's new phone except the new guy doesn't know how to operate the "sign for package" device, and the old guy that's supposed to be mentoring him is like, 92, deaf as a post, and doesn't actually know how to operate the device either.
  • by the way
  • it is already
  • over 100 out
  • it takes almost 30 minutes to sign for the phone
  • when i get back inside, i discover that apparently the Corgi has learned how to open his kennel from the inside because he is now out of the kennel and waiting for me to come in.
  • he also has cat litter all over his face because while he was waiting for me he also learned how to open the baby gate to the cat's room and help himself to a cat shit breakfast.
  • He'll be fine
  • He's a cattle dog, they're legally required to have at least 1 really disgusting snack they love.
  • but
  • more to the point
  • i have no idea at what point he learned to open his kennel from the inside
  • has he been staying there out of politeness this whole time??
  • And
  • I got other shit to do today.
  • namely.
  • I'm seeing a realator
  • The Devils most pathetic yet effective demons
  • I get a reminder text that I have an appointment with her
  • at least
  • I think that's what it is because what she sends me is: "🏡⏰12:00 ❔"
  • With the time typed in the middle like that.
  • She is, according to her profile, at least 80.
  • so I reply "😎👍"
  • and then she sends me a string of GODDAMN POST-MODERN EMOJI HEIROGLYPHICS THAT TAKE UP MY ENTIRE SCREEN.
  • She's on an iPhone so half of them don't even translate across platforms
  • It takes me half an hour and three different software programs and goddamn wingdings to translate, but she has sent me the address and rules about masking and not wearing shoes inside.
  • in emoji
  • instead of like
  • literally any other format
  • I am
  • FASCINATED
  • and simply must meet the woman so if I don't come back to update I got stolen by the fairies but I'm taking the Corgi with me as protection so I'll see y'all later.

Update:

  • It's not fairies
  • It's Doris.
  • might be about to get a sewing machine and/or start an ACAB riot.

Ok, so:

  • I'm going to see a prospective house because due to various circumstances, I'm probably going to be moving to the other side of a major metropolitan area in the next few months, but that's not important.
  • I get to the house
  • I get a text from the realtor
  • The realtor is not the person who has been texting me in emoji
  • The person texting me in emoji is the homeowner, who the realtor says will let me in if I want, she's running late.
  • Sure
  • Why not
  • I put Herschel on leash and go to the front door
  • As much crime as he commits at home Herschel The Hanukkah Goblin has terrific public manners, and is Very Cute so I'm about 90% sure the emoji fairy is going to let me take him through the house
  • Door opens.
  • 90-something blue haired old lady with a spine like a question mark and glasses that could be used as telescope lenses opens the door.
  • "OH [Gallus]! How lovely to see you!"
  • This woman clearly knows me because she remembers my anniversary was last week and that my sister is back from Australia.
  • Problem is
  • I know about 500 geriatric ladies with blue hair, scoliosis and extreme prescription glasses, because I am a member of 2 quilt guilds, the scientific illustration guild, the rocky mountain SCA and stagehand for three different theater companies, so I know everyone's grandma and fuck me if I can tell them apart.
  • Wait
  • There's a quilt in thekitchen, visible front hall
  • I don't know faces but apparently I can recognize applique techniques at 40paces.
  • "...Doris? From SAQA?"
  • "YES! Who is this handsome little man?"
  • Herschel speaks enough English to know that "handsome little man" means "this person will feed me milk bones and bacon if I'm cute enough"
  • Immediately does a Sit Pretty and Shake.
  • Doris is bewitched
  • This is fine, but I also know I'm about to severely disappoint the realtor because there is no way in hell I'm moving into this House.
  • Because
  • The reason Doris is moving out is that her neighbor is a Cunt Magnifique and has been harassing Doris and everyone else to form an HOA and "improve the quality of our residents" because this woman has nothing better to do than be a racist-ass busy body, and recently, she's set her husband, a county sheriff on Doris, trying to bully her into signing paperwork and threatening her with legal action and writing her up for bullshit property violations
  • Ain't putting up with that shit
  • And neither is Doris, so she's selling all her shit and moving out to live with her grandchildren in Santa Monica.
  • But she's technologically impaired, so the only indication that there is an estate sale happening is a small paper sign in her front yard.
  • "Doris." I say, as Herschel makes himself comfortable on the couch for belly rubs and pieces of ham. "Did you tell SAQA or FRCC or anyone on Facebook that you're having the sale?"
  • "oh, I don't know how to do all that!" She sighs. "I tried to call the Denver post but they just put me on hold for ages..."
  • "Watch Herschel for 20 minutes and he's only allowed to have that one piece of ham."
  • Pics of everything
  • Address, time and pics to Facebook, both quilt guilds she's in, two more I have contacts for, nextdoor, and the local SCA discord for good measure.
  • It's 12 minutes and Herschel persuaded her to give him at least three pieces of ham.
  • He is petitioning for a fourth by doing a little puppy dance on the living room rug.
  • "OK, that's enough ham, people will be here in 10. Where is your cash box?"
  • Because apparently I'm running an estate sale today too.
  • It's fine :)
  • There's about 7 minutes of quiet.
  • Then
  • They DESCEND
  • The first on the scene is DeeDee, who doesn't believe in speed limits. She's arrived with a horse trailer. I remember that she is also moving.
  • "HI DORIS SWEETHEART WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS TODAY I WAS GOING TO TAKE ALL THIS TO THE GOODWILL HERE LET ME SET UP ON YOUR LAWN "
  • DeeDee is 73, and has a special spiritual bond with Hello Kitty. She weighs like 98lbs, dresses exclusively in neon pink sanrio clothes and the kind of eye makeup drag queens aspire to.
  • She also speaks non-stop at a volume normally associated with jet engines.
  • Half the horse trailer is already spread out on the lawn.
  • Doris is putting price stickers on stuff
  • Herschel is trying to tear open a bag of cotton batting.
  • This, and the arrival of approximately 56 minivans, five more trucks with horse trailers and Corgi Excitement Screaming alert Cunt Magnifique that something is happening outside.
  • Madame saunters off her porch up to Doris and Demands to know what's happening, you're supposed to notify the neighborhood and get a permit to-"
  • Doris, surrounded by her pack of silver wolves, shouts. "OH HELLO! EVERYONE, THIS IS MARCIA. I'VE TOLD YOU ALL ABOUT MARCIA." >:)c

... further details in a bit I think the Vikings are here.

~`* SOMEONE'S GETTING FIRED!!*`~

OK so.

  • You know those high school house parties you see in movies, where the person invites only a few friends, but those friends call their friends, and those friends call THEIR friends and soon like 500 people show up to one house and someone calls the cops and that one John Mulaney sketch with "SCATTER!" happens?
  • Old people will 100% do this too, except instead of a house party it's an estate sale on a wednesday afternoon and when the cop shows up there are lawyers present and he is in DEEP SHIT because his wife just spent the afternoon admitting to doing a bunch of wildly illegal shit on tape.
  • So when we left off, the party had really started getting underway, because Marcia the Cunt Magnifique had decided to crash the estate sale and whine about "we're supposed to coordinate garage sales as a neighborhood" and "your friends are blocking traffic on this cul-de-sac while nobody is home" weh weh-
  • DeeDee is about ready to throw hands but she is nowhere near the most dangerous of the Silver Silver Wolves.
  • That's Dr. Ruth.
  • Dr. Ruth turned 99 this year and went paragliding for her birthday
  • So you understand just how hard she goes
  • Dr. Ruth sort of hobbles over and point-blank asks "So I understand you've been trying to start a homeowner's association?" :3c
  • Marcia
  • Entirely misunderstanding how much danger she's in
  • Starts enumerating the TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS of trying to start one, because SOME PEOPLE DON'T RESPECT AUTHORITY and all the paperwork and talking to people and she even had to ask HER HUSBAND. A SHERRIF. To go around and hand people stuff to sign.
  • Some people, right?
  • Dr. Ruth nods. Some people. She agrees.
  • You know.
  • Her son is a lawyer.
  • Why doesn't she give him a call?
  • Marcia, a Moron: Oh that'd be great!
  • Dr. Ruth, hobbling back to Doris: "Don't worry. David will handle this."
  • Meanwhile
  • The Friends-Of-Friends and the Friends-Of-Friends-Of-Friends are arriving, lured in because they heard the words "Longarm Sewing Machine" and "Hand-made quilts"
  • Various factions present include but are far from limited to: -Probably Six Quilt Guilds -The Denver Art League -The Denver Leather League -The Vikings -The Klingons -The Colorado Wild Game Share -A Pack of Scientific Illustrators -A Pack of Assorted Scientists they brought with them -The Sheep Lesbians -The Horse Lesbians -Three Extremely Competent Finnish People (My Scientific Illustration Professor and her sisters) who immediately take over the estate sale and turn it into an auction to maximize profit and keep the taxes in order.
  • Someone brings two additional Corgi called "Cap" and "Bucky"
  • They are Pembroke Corgi, and weigh about 21lbs apiece
  • Herschel is a Cardigan Welsh Corgi and weighs 42lbs because he's hug even for a Cardigan, and is Delighted with his New Minions.
  • They worship him as a God and follow him around so every time he sticks his face in something two smaller corgi faces immediately follow, like some kind of adorable cerberus.
  • Pelts and meat shares are being traded out of the backs of trucks and vans
  • Someone is making bratwurst.
  • Intrigued by the Brouhaha, Doris' neighbors emerge.
  • They are also Geriatric and very nervous, because Marcia has been harassing them too.
  • They are telling this to the members of these factions that are also lawyers.
  • There are at least 5 of them so far and David isn't even here yet.
  • I realize my realtor isn't even here.
  • I decide to text her.
  • She is somewhere in the crowd and having a nervous breakdown because She's SO LATE!!!
  • Ma'am.
  • It's 103 out.
  • I was just handed a freshly grilled Brat
  • Some bitch is incriminating herself on the lawn.
  • Nothing scheduled is happening.
  • Come sit in the yard and watch the Corgis play on the Palyskool plastic slide set. They're disassembling it like tiny furry engineers.
  • Have a bratwurst.
  • One of the Klingons appears, having physically carried my realtor through the crowd, and gently deposits her on the lawn before handing her a Bratwurst.
  • Diane, the Realtor, is not much older than I am, and from the preppie swaths of society that has "Never had a dog growing up" and "Didn't Know People Could Just. Make. Blankets?" and "What is this? It's like a hot dog but spicy?"
  • She is having a LEARNING EXPERIENCE.
  • One of the Horse Lesbians comes over and compliments Diane on her Dior handbag.
  • Diane thanks her ans compliments the apparently expensive brand scarf she has on. Do you. Know all these people?
  • Horse Lesbian explains that she's part of the SCA, and what that is, and that why yes. Her girlfriend Tasha is an armorer. Yes like for knights.
  • More Livestock Lesbians assemble.
  • They are pulling off shirts to show off livestock and battle scars, and biceps.
  • Diane is LEARNING A LOT TODAY.
  • I am just getting everyone's contact info and making sure Herschel does not consume his weight in bratwurst.
  • BWOOP!
  • Uh-Oh.
  • Marcia's Husband is here.
  • I step out front.
  • He has used the siren to largely part the crowd and pull into his driveway but it has closed around him and there is No Escape.
  • He starts huffing and puffing about blocked traffic and permits and the like, but this is not his usual Can-Bully-Without-Consequences crowd.
  • These are Grandmas.
  • Veterans of the 60's protest front who never let up.
  • He's starting to turn bright red and looks like he's about to cry and I've got my phone out to record whatever Incident is about to occur.
  • -And a Mercedes pulls up.
  • It's David.
  • Dr. Ruth's son.
  • The Lawyer.
  • And I emphasize that The because David is not some mere ambulance chaser.
  • David is the guy that the state sends to prosecute Corporate Fraud and Organized Crime and Other State Departments.
  • David was part of the team that took down the CO Branch of the KKK.
  • David is all of 5'4", very round and a balding little man that looks like the Dictonary Definition of "Nebbish" that moves with such intense confidence and authority that he pretty much has the Pillar Men Theme Blasting behind him at all times.
  • So when he and three other lawyers from the state's office step out of the car
  • Mr. Sherrif goes from red to while like color-changing octopus and I am like 50% sure he shit himself.
  • Because what he and Marcia have been doing is Very, Very, Very, VERY, Fucking Illegal.
  • "mArCiA!" he garbles. "sHuT tHe fUcK uP!"
  • Marcia is standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac, having spent the last 3 hours recounting to anyone who will listen about the 'measures she's had to take' and now the 5 lawyers that were here are delightedly handing over the paperwork that she had forced on Doris and her Neighbors, and pointing at all the doorbell cameras and witnesses out to the state's top prosecutor.
  • Friends
  • I ugly laughed.
  • FOUR HOURS LATER: -Auction wrapped up with a solid $40K to Doris' name plus pending sales on some of her larger furniture and antiques
  • Plus whatever David gets in damages from the county sherrif's office.
  • Marcia and husband are fucking busted
  • Herschel spent all afternoon running around and eating snacks and is passed out on the floor
  • Diane is "meeting up with" one of the Horse Lesbians next week.
  • The sewing machine went to someone else but I did open my purse and found out Doris or someone shoved a bunch of cash in there.
  • I'm getting ice dream and going to bed.
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dduane

...Always reblog the Epics. :)

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zmtn

[Full comic transcript under cut in addition to the alt text.]

So I've been working on a short comic, and here's a preview of the first five pages and the cover. They still need some cleanup and editing, and the rest of the pages of course, but I hope you enjoy them!

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cryptonature

I bet octopuses think bones are horrific. I bet all their cosmic horror stories involve rigid-limbs and hinged joints.

To an octopus, a human is like a thinking being with blood-stained coral growing inside it.

I need to sit down and breathe into a bag for a while.

Its parts were obscenely limited in their movement. Each hinge could open or close only a small amount before reaching its limit, yet by working in concert they demonstrated unexpected dexterity, moving and manipulating the objects before it with cunning equal to my own. It was more torso than limb, as though a seal had been stretched and warped, given long grasping tentacles filled with bones like bars of coral.  It’s head was most horrid of all, flat and ovoid, jutting out too small from the trunk as though it belonged to a beast half its size.

The thing rose upon its lowermost appendages, two long trunks that ended in flat, protruding flippers that branched into stubby, grasping mockeries of a sucker. It’s triple-hinged uppermost limbs were similar, but the ends branched into five smaller tentacles, each with three hinges of their own.

I froze, as the thing’s gaze fell upon me and it opened its hideous fish-jaw, filled with thick, many-shaped teeth like white shards of stone, and spoke in a shrill, discordant babble. I felt its horrid dry grip on my flesh, as those hinged appendages closed on me like the legs of a crab.

I felt the heat of its body, tasted its noxious, oily flesh through my touch, and prepared for the end, and all went black as a swoon overtook me.

I awoke, some time later, the cold and comforting water, banished back to the comfort of the sea and the dark. I should be grateful I am alive. I should cast aside the experience like a half-remembered dream.

I shall never again go swimming in search of lights above. The last thing I recall before the darkness took me was my right eye popping free of the thing’s grasp enough to see into the distance for one brief moment.

I saw thousands of lights.

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evilkitten3

ok so it turns out “horror but it’s about something mundane from the perspective of a non-human animal” fucks severely

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