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zephyrchama · 10 days

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"What did Mammon do now?"

The greedy demon was in his underwear, hanging upside down from a rafter in the hallway. He tried to coerce you into letting him down as you walked by, but you knew better than to do so without consulting Lucifer.

"Gambling. The usual." Lucifer had a hand on his forehead, pushing his hair up while jotting something down at his desk.

"Mammon gambles every day," you pointed out. "What'd he really do?"

By the way Lucifer groaned, you knew it was something juicy. "I caught him pilfering one of my rarest records, a gift from Diavolo, to use as collateral in a bet. It's one-of-a-kind. I doubt he even knows what it is, but Mammon always has a knack for finding things of high value."

"His secret sixth sense," you agreed. "What'd you do with his clothes?"

"They make it harder to tie him up tightly. He has a slightly higher chance of wiggling free with clothes on, so I made him strip." Lucifer gestured, Mammon's clothes had been put on some kind of mannequin, tucked away in the space between two bookshelves.

You'd never seen it before. Your jaw dropped into the widest half-smile half-astonished expression possible. It had Mammon's hair and his goofy smile. Even a flashy golden earring. "What is that?"

You practically ran across the room to inspect it. It was dressed properly in Mammon's shirt and tie. There were a lot of seams, more than seemed necessary, perhaps from being repeatedly repaired over years of use. "Lucifer, this is adorable."

"It's a necessary tool for my sanity." He pushed the chair back, standing up to join you.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll give you a demonstration."

Lucifer comically wound up his closed fist. With ballistic force, he struck the figure right in its chest. It flopped back, then sprung back up wildly to receive a fistful of lighter blows from Lucifer.

"You made a Mammon punching bag? Really?" You didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"I didn't make it, Mammon did."

Surprise of the day number two. "Mammon made this? Himself?"

To stop the wobbling, Lucifer grabbed the punching bag's tie, pulling it tight and then smoothing it out. "Cute, right? He thought it might make me go easy on future punishments. It's a very thoughtful gift from my little brother."

"Yeah, I didn't know he could sew. Huh." The two of you stood to admire it before Lucifer returned to his desk. You followed him. "Kind of reminds me of the doll Levi made of me."

Lucifer smiled. "Leviathan made you a doll, did he? How very kind."

"No, he made a doll of me."

Lucifer froze to process this information, frowning.

You continued, "I don't know where he usually keeps it, but I saw it under his desk one time. It's pretty big and detailed. I mentioned it once and offered to lend him a shirt for it, but he got really embarrassed and pushed me out. He's gotta take more pride in his work, it was really impressive."

"I see." Lucifer gritted his teeth. "You know, something I have to do just came up. Let's finish this conversation later." He was quietly seething as he escorted you to the door. Along the way he gave punching-bag Mammon a soft whack to the head.

You realized you forgot to ask if you could untie the real Mammon, but Lucifer had already marched down the hall in the direction of Leviathan's room. Rather than trying to catch up, you decided to go see how the Avatar of Greed was doing.

#i bet satan has a lucifer punching bag #is this punching bag ever mentioned? where is the lore #obey me #obey me! swd #obey me scenarios #omswd #obey me headcanon #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #tw punching ? is that a thing? i don't know how to tag this for content warning hm.#obey me!#obey me drabble #obey me fanfic #I started a bunch of mini fics and got like 95% of the way done an Asmo one but I'm not liking it. feels oddly written so I have to fix it.#obey me mc #obey me x mc #does levi making a creepy unexplained doll of mc count as x mc? sure.

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flickering-nightfall · 9 months

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#in the game files the last image of hunter's ascension ending - the one with nsh - is named “embrace”#as a side note #i typically as i like to interpret slugcats as...#intelligent of course as they can draw and sign in downpour lore...#but in a different way from humans. in a different way from iterators.#that's just how i like to interpret them though - if you like to interpret slugcats in a more anthropomorphized/humanized fashion #i'm glad for you and i'm glad you're having fun too :)#anyways i wrote this comic the way i did because i felt like it was the best and most succinct way #to get the message i was trying to express across #so hunter's thoughts are pretty straightforwardly written despite the more complex concepts behind them #i mean they are also made and raised by an iterator so that could come into play #maybe i could have thought of a different way but eh i already drew the comic #rain world #rw hunter #no significant harassment #flickerdoodles #comic #long post #rw spoilers #art

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dyssonant-skyline · 2 months

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"because its hell" doesn't hold up.

When you create a setting from scratch, you have total control over it. You get to make the rules. You can't excuse a flaw in writing or presentation with "it is hell, it has to be this way!"

Here is one paraphrased example from Hazbin Hotel I've heard recently in response to a critique of calling the main characters too reliant on pinks/reds:

"All the characters have red in their color schemes because they are from the Pride ring and the rings are color coordinated."

While this gives an in-character/in-lore explanation for the color schemes, what it doesn't do is change the fact Hazbin Hotel's characters having a hard time standing out from the background. An in-character/in-lore justification should NOT be prioritized over the overall quality of a project.

As a writer, you have control over the constraints of your story. If you write yourself into a corner, you can't just throw up your hands and give up. You have to be willing to rework your lore and stories to make them stronger.

If excessive cursing is grating and making certain moments within your story less impactful, you should reel it in because it makes the presentation stronger. If your color based lore is causing the visuals of your project to suffer, it is time to reassess the lore.

Just because something is logically consistent within a world, doesn't make it a good writing/art choice.

A setting's rules should serve stories and characters, not the other way around.

#please... stop using that as an excuse. it is an admission that the writers could have fixed the issue by thinking through the-#worldbuilding/lore more... but they didnt. Anyway #that's my personal take/rant on how stories should be written.#hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop criticism #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel redesign #helluva boss redesign #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #Dys rants

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clanborn · 5 months

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Origins of the Bay Clans: Stone and the Lynx (Part 2)

The tracks led inland, further than the cats of Stone’s little clan had yet dared to travel. She followed the river upstream, skirting the thrashing current as it threw itself against the banks. The forest grew denser, the hemlocks thicker, the sharp peaks of the mountains taller, casting the valley in deep shadow. All was silent but the river, and the sound of strange, buzzing bird calls that rang eerily through the trees. Though her heart trembled, Stone trekked on, her pawsteps guided by purpose and the tracks that still sat unmistakable in the mud.

Stone had never followed a river to its origin, had never even thought of it as a possibility. Water–rivers, oceans, rains–lived outside the boundaries of a lifespan, within birth and death. Rivers weren’t something that just began, or ended, they simply cycled–at least, that’s what she had believed.

After hours spent unceasingly hiking through the valley, Stone emerged from the edge of the treeline. The pebbled ground spread flat in front of her, before abruptly spiking upward to form the range of mountains. Two peaks pierced the sky, and nestled between them was a landform unlike anything Stone had ever seen. The river rushed forward from the base of a giant white slope, a crystalline mass carved deep with blue crevices.

The wall shone like a piece of the moon itself, bleeding into the valley, its essence spilling into the forest before winding its way to the Bay. As Stone drew closer, she realized with a shock that the structure was made of ice, frozen solid despite the warmth of late spring.

She halted at the river’s edge, looking upon the structure in wonder. Was the moon made of ice? Had a shard of it fallen from the heavens upon the mountains? What else could create a fortress so massive, so imposing yet nurturing, whose icy waters fed the land and the bay?

These questions swam through her mind, but she tossed them to the side with a flick of her ears. For now, the answers were unknowable, and she must remain focused on her task.

She shook out her pelt and continued her path: the ground now had turned to gravel, and she tracked by scent instead of footprints. The slope turned steep, then rocky, a gray mountain face broken only by patches of unmelted snow and determined shrubs. Below her, the mass of ice gleamed, stretching out beyond the peaks like a blinding white sea.

As she continued along the mountainside, she noticed an opening in the cliff face, a dark entrance where the ice field met the mountain. She quickened her pace until she reached the cave entrance, standing on the barrier of darkness. Here, the scent she was tracking hung in the air, strong as ever, leading her into the blackness. She slipped into the cave without a second thought

Inside was a large cave, and she quickly crossed the open stretch of ground to the back, where a darker shadow lay. A tunnel.

Curiosity drove her forward, driving away any fear she might have felt. Down into the tunnel she tread, deeper and deeper into the veins of the mountain. For ages she was guided by scent alone, and the narrow tunnel walls pressing on all sides. An eternity of darkness.

Finally, Stone saw light, a blue glow that softly spilled into the end of the tunnel. Her footsteps quickened, and the cat entered into a cavern. Her breath hitched as she stepped into the light, awed by the sight before her. A medium sized cave rose around her, walls of smooth, layered stone arcing above her. The stone was washed with blue, for one wall was made not of rock, but entirely of ice. It was a deep, rich blue, as sunlight filtered down into the fragment of icy moon.

Within the ice wall’s bubbles and cracks hung an even stranger sight. A giant skeleton, ancient and fragmented, was trapped frozen in the ice, the remains of a creature Stone had never seen before. Though it’s thick bones and long, curved fangs were utterly unfamiliar, something in Stone knew it had once called itself catkin. A forgotten ancestor.

In front of the ice, sitting still and gray as the rocks around it, was a towering feline silhouette, its tufted ears outlined by the cold light. Stone’s fellow, wild catkin cousin. The Lynx.

The Lynx turned its gaze towards her slowly, expectantly, like it had known about her presence even before she did. Stone approached it, wary.

“I admire your tenacity, cat” Its voice was a gravelly purr. “I thought you’d stop at the treeline.”

Stone skirted the wall carefully, keeping several pawsteps of distance between her and the creature. “Why did you assume that?”

The Lynx wrinkled its nose in a wry smirk. “Well, look at you. You’re an imitation of a cat. This wilderness is unfit for your kind.”

Stone flattened her ears, attempting to keep her voice level. “What exactly do you mean?”

“You call yourselves ‘cats’, yet your kind feeds by human hands. You have grown small and thin-furred, distant from your nobler origins. You can only survive in little packs, reliant on the work of others, unable to face nature with your own merit—A true ‘cat’ walks in solitude, you know nothing of the sort.”

Stone looked beyond the Lynx to the ice wall behind it, where the massive bones of their great ancestor lay suspended in time. “You say my kind has fallen, but have yours not? Have you not also grown smaller than this god, your fangs short, your bones thin? It too lived in solitude, yet here it lies, dead, its life unremembered by its catkin. You mock my community, but we have lived this long despite this lands’ harshness, and will continue to do so.”

The Lynx’s smug expression faded, and its gaze grew intense as it stared at Stone. “Even gods die, housecat. The only thing life guarantees is an ending.” It curled its lip. “Your ‘community’ is not exempt from this.”

Stone met its eyes, unwavering. “If we are catkin, what bars me from the same powers you possess? Surely I can learn to survive by your means, surely I can find access to your blessings.”

The Lynx almost laughed, but the scoff caught in its throat. It narrowed its eyes, suddenly thoughtful, the smirk creeping back up its muzzle.

“Maybe I can offer you a taste of godhood, little cat. The lives of my predecessors run through me, from the tip of my tail through all ten of my claws.” The deity sat back on its haunches and held up its massive paws in demonstration. For a brief moment, its claws twinkled with a faint light, like stars plucked straight from the sky.

“One of these is mine, of course. But I have nine to spare.” It tilted its head down at her, its fangs gleaming in the blue cavern light. “Provided I deem you worthy of them.”

Stone raised her head in challenge. “What would make me worthy?”

The Lynx paused to consider, eyeing her up and down.

“To you alone I will grant these lives, thus you alone must face me.” The lynx narrowed its eyes. “Prove to me your will and strength, and defeat me in battle. If I submit, I grant you these lives, and the chance to explore this bay with greater distance between death and yourself.”

“Your loss, of course, will cost you your life.” It dipped its head towards her. “Is it a deal?”

Stone paused, hesitant, her heart fluttering in her chest. How could she face this creature in her state, small in stature, weary from her climb, completely alone? Despite her apprehension, her curiosity was stronger. There was only one chance for an opportunity like this, and even if she declined, what would stop the Lynx from killing her anyway?.

She nodded once. “I accept your terms.”

The lynx nodded back. Its fangs flashed. It stretched its claws.

They leapt into battle.

Stone was swift, but the Lynx was strong and skilled. It battered her with massive paws, slamming her into the cold rocky floor. Stone dodged and weaved through its attacks, but the cavern was small, and every leap Stone made seemed to send her into another faceful of claws.

Her opponent threw a powerful swipe, tossing her against the ice wall with a thud. Back against the blue glow, Stone crouched low, struggling to catch her breath. Her strength was waning, and Stone knew with every moment her chances of victory grew slimmer. Her paws shook slightly. The Lynx had noticed her waver, and began to pad towards with calm, sure steps. It smiled–it was eager to finish her off. How could she win this?

She thought of the cats–the clan–she had left behind, who likely waited anxiously for their wayward leader’s return. Would they falter without her guidance? Would the glimmer of hope she had lit in their hearts snuff out with fear? If only she could lead them to the majestic moon glacier, show them the ethereal ancient glow of the blue cave, renew their spirits with wonder at the wilderness they were trapped in. Stone suddenly stiffened, steeling herself as she lifted her gaze back toward her foe. Though she fought alone in the cavern, her mind conjured the presence of her clan behind her. She would not die here. She would die among the cats she had befriended, who had banded together in their time of need. The cats she needed, who needed her to return alive.

With a burst of vigor, Stone launched herself toward the lynx’s head, her weight and confidence catching it off guard. She clung to its face, slashing its ears, her momentum sending it crashing hard into the floor. It flailed its huge paws, but Stone stood steadfast upon its chest, pressing her own paws down forcefully against its throat. Her claws dug in, blood welled up around her toes. The lynx grew more panicked, struggling wildly, its breath stuttering in strangled gasps. Stone pressed harder.

“St–Sto-”

Stone leaned close into its face. “Do you yield?”

The Lynx thrashed its head, attempting to nod frantically. “Yg-Yes!”

Stone slowly lifted her paws, releasing pressure off the creature’s throat. It gasped for air, then shoved her off its chest, throwing her to the floor. She scrambled to her paws, watching the Lynx heave. After it had caught its breath, the Lynx pressed its paw deep into the stone floor. It did so with strange power, impressing into the rock like it was mud, leaving the crisp outline of its giant pawprint. It beckoned her over. Its breath was hoarse. “Come.”

Stone approached the Lynx. She eyed it warily, nervous that it would decide to ignore the deal and kill her anyway. But it didn’t move as she stood above it, her paws settling on the edge of its pawprint, which seemed to sparkle slightly in the dim, cold light.

The Lynx glared up at her, its cool demeanor vanished, its eyes blazing with controlled fury. “Touch your nose to the floor,” it growled. “You will receive your reward.”

Carefully, Stone dipped her head down, until her nose brushed against the floor’s icy chill. For a brief moment, all was still.

Suddenly, she was blinded by overwhelming light. The force of the glare threw her head back, and her vision was assaulted by an oppressive blur of color and noise. Images flashed in her mind, landscapes, memories, creatures she has never seen before. Each streaked by, too fast for her to fully process the scenes. Waves of emotion crashed in her, sending her reeling, thrown into a raging sea of grief and joy and fear and wonder. She felt all of time as it had crept by, millions of years of the past and future stretched out infinitely, lived all at once in a single instant. She felt everything. She felt nothing. It was the most agonizing pain she had ever experienced, swept in a flood of sheer euphoria. She knew places and beasts and times she had no name for, all lived through and known by the catkin before her. It was the longest moment of her life, but as she crouched, trembling, blinking her eyes back to the sight of the blue cavern, she realized only seconds had passed.

The Lynx had stood, and had begun moving toward the cave’s exit. It turned to look down at her, and Stone returned its gaze, panting heavily, her fur on end and buzzing with strange energy.

It was silent for a moment. “You now have eight more lives to live along with your own. More than any little cat has had before. Your blessing and your curse.” It lulled thoughtfully, its expression had settled back into its neutral stare.

Its voice was cold, though laced with an undertone of contempt–and perhaps, Stone thought, respect. “Do not treat this victory lightly, Stone. Every day you live here will be another test, another gamble with your life. Living here is a game with no winners, and you and your fellows can only stall the march of nature for so long.”

The lynx turned, padding toward the exit. “The gods here will meddle where they like, and though you have bested me, I can not guarantee my kin will be deterred from entertaining themselves with playthings like you.”

The god stopped in the entrance, then glanced back toward her, its face in shadow.

“Good luck, Stone. You will need it.”

It disappeared.

For a moment, Stone stood alone in the blue cavern.

She was not Stone anymore. Something had changed within her, the Lynx’s stars sat heavy in her chest, glittered on her whiskers. Just as an icy piece of the moon had fallen to the earth and become one with it, fragments of the stars had melded with her being. She was Stonestar, and her pelt glowed with the new (old?) lives that settled under her fur.

And she was alive. More than she had ever been before.

And it was time to return to her clan.

#oops wrong blocg #this one is more of a written story #im more of a visual storyteller than an author so hopefully it reads ok #oh also this is the version of the story that’s been passed down through the clans #so it’s been embellished and should not necessarily be taken at face value #since stonestar was the only one there and this was many decades ago #lore #stone #stonestar #my art #the lynx #warrior cats #alaska clans

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purerae · 1 year

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What if the reader was high/drunk and when she’s high/drunk she’s the sweetest and very loving. How would Kieran react? Would he be all lovey with her?

╭────༺♡༻────╮

YANDERE!PLAYBOY X FEM!READER.

DRUNK IN SWEETNESS // ONESHOT.

warnings ;; yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour , fluff, obsession, lying (??), jealousy etc, slight angst (if you squint)

click here for the masterlist!

╰────༺♡༻────╯

Kieran walks into the party that he was dreading going to. Because he gave up hooking up with girls, going to parties was too boring for him. He can’t get drunk because he has a very high tolerance and the conversations he has with his so-called ‘friends’ makes him want to feel pain so he can shoot himself five times in the head.

The white-haired male would much rather talk with you, feel you, and joke around with you. Too bad, every time he asks for your number you mutter out a sarcastic response and switch the topic.

It’s not his fault he wants to speak with you at all times! I mean…He could just sneak into your house and watch you from there. But he isn’t going to do that of course! He’s not a fucking creep.

As he walks deeper into the house party, alcohol is pushed against his nose as his past hookups wink at him, the ones who want to be his new girl attempt to walk up to him but he just gives them a wink and pushes past them. If he got a coin for the number of people who dabbed him up and knew his name while he didn’t know theirs, He’d probably be twice as rich as he is now.

The playboy (or ‘former’ playboy) gets pulled into a conversation with the football jocks as they speak about the next game, who they’re going to go for and just basic stuff etc. Kieran makes a joke here and there and he can’t tell if they’re laughing at it because it was legitimately funny or if they’re laughing because they want to get on his good side.

With you, he never had to think that. He knows that you laugh if something is actually funny and God, it makes him feel so proud when he’s the one who gets the laugh out of you.

Speaking of you…His eyes glance away from the group for a split second and the same eyes widen at the scene in front of him. It was you. Dressed up for a party he would never imagine you would go to and hell, you looked fine as fuck. But there was no way you would go to this shitty party! Who would even invite you? The jocks?? No, no it couldn’t have been. Could it?

Maybe he’s just too obsessed with you that he’s imagining you there. He quickly disregards the conversation and walks up to the couch he’s supposedly imagining you on. But there you were, In the flesh. He gives you an infamous smirk before smoothly saying

“Woah, didn’t kn—“ “Oh, my god!! Kieran! Helloooo!!” You grin at him before jumping up from your seat, almost stumbling to the ground and give him a big hug before giggling. “Fancy seeing you here~!”

Kieran remained still for what felt like hours but was actually around 5 seconds. Why were you happy to see him? Why are you hugging him??? “…Haha hey now— What’s gotten’ into you princess?”

This was one of the first times he was almost speechless. Normally you reject his advances constantly. Even if he put an arm around your shoulder, you would give him a sharp glare and push him off. But now…You’re hugging him?!

Unfortunately for him, you let go of the blissful hug before looking up at him and pouting with wide glassy eyes.

“Are you not happy to see me…I’m r-really happy to see you, Kieran!” You sniff and flop back onto the couch. Glaring at him with narrowed eyes and a pout on your cherished lips.

The blue-eyed male recovers from his shocked flustered stare before realising…bottles everywhere, your eyes were struggling to stay open, emotions off the rail. You were obviously drunk! Your personality seemed more intimate too. He could use this to his advantage. Kieran quickly sits down next to you and holds onto your arm.

“Of course, I'm happy to see you, cutie! I'm always happy to see your pretty little face~” He flirts back at you, wondering how the drunk version of you would respond.

You lean into his touch and smile. “I knew you’d be happy to see me..!!” you look at his face and then his shirt before placing a hand against it. “Woah— your shirt suits you so much, Kier! You should wear blue more often” You compliment him with a wide smile and your eyes closed.

Kieran looks at your flushed face. In his heart, he knows it’s because of the alcohol but ignorance is bliss so he’ll pretend it was because of him. His face matched yours despite not drinking anything. The new nickname and the compliment which you never give him, gives him electrical pangs in his heart.

He looks down at you with a widened smile and you’re so close to him, he just wants to kiss your red plumped lips but decided against it. He wanted you to be sober when you guys kissed. He wants you to remember his lips on yours.

“Jesus, how much did you drink princess?” He mutters to himself, intending for you not to hear but since you guys are only 8 cm away from each other, you hear him loud and clear.

With a big frown, you say “I'm not drunk…at all… barely even dranked…drunk..drank?” you slur your words out and struggle to keep your head up before giving up and placing it on his chest.

To people surrounding you guys, it looks as though you’re his millionth girlfriend and he’s just flirting with you. But Kieran doesn’t care what people think. The male turns you around and lets you lean on his chest with a content smile, he wraps his hands around your shoulders.

“Hm? I believe you babe~ you’re not drunk at all, yeah?” He says with a humming tune in his voice.

You let out a “Mhm!” noise and you guys stay like that for a while. Kieran is flirting with you and instead of your sarcastic responses, you giggle and laugh while acting all sweet to him too. He knows if you were sober right now and saw how you were acting with him, saw the very public display of affection, You’d vomit all over the place and never speak with him again.

But he was always good at keeping secrets.

Your sweet conversation got cut off by one of Kieran’s ‘friends’ who walks up to you both with a drink in hand before laughing.

“Yoo, this your new bitch? She’s hot as fuck, where’d ya’ get her?” He yells out, obviously drunk and high and everything in between.

Kieran’s smirk turns into an angered look. Something no one has ever seen before. His eyes darken as he hears the cunt refer to the love of his life as a ‘bitch’…as well as complimenting her too! No one deserves to compliment what's his. He should be the one to call you hot, not some guy who doesnt even know your name.

He snarls out “She’s my girlfriend you freak, Say shit like that one more time and I’ll knock you the fuck out. Got it?” He places his signature smirk back on but his eyes remain the same.

The poor guy has never seen Kieran act like this before. This was a look he never wanted to see ever again. He responds meekly with a “m-my bad bro” Before scurrying off like a lost little sheep.

Kieran’s smirk drops once again as he holds you even tighter in his grasp. His fingers dig into your skin as you yelp in pain.

“Ow!”

His touch loosens. “Sorry princess, just close your eyes again for’ me, okay?” He looks down at you and sees your tilted head staring at him with a confused and worrying stare. He raises his eyebrow before you softly explain

“I’m…your girlfriend?” Kieran laughs and nods his head confidently.

“Of course! Did my cute girl drink so much that she almost forgot?~” He pecks your nose before leaning back onto the armrest and closing his eyes, his arms still resting against your body.

You make a noise of confusion before accepting the fact that you’re his ‘girlfriend’ and get comfortable against him again.

“Ah…Sorry!” You giggle out. and hold onto his arms.

Kieran knows this is wrong. He knows that if you knew he did this, you'd hate him forever. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the domestic feeling of being a boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

Although he loves your snarky responses, He could definitely get used to the sweet side of you. Just one more hour of this. Please.

purerae<3

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ahalliance · 4 months

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the dread i feel knowing that qbaghera is a ‘federation experiment’ and that qantoine is involved in ‘federation experiments’ will never fade btw 👍

#qsmp #antoine daniel #baghera jones #one punch KO tbh . jesus #it’s like . we don’t have any proof technically . that their lore is specifically related to each other . but . yknow . the unknown leads #one to imagine things……..#the report about qbagz’ escape and the fed’s request for help being written to a third party….. and being written in french…….#amiga……#jay rambles #qantoine.txt #qbaghera.txt

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echosoftheflower · 3 months

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I feel like there is so much missed potential in this fandom when it comes to Jimmy's part in EVO.

Like yeah, Grian constantly pissed off the watchers by being too greedy and taking more than he should, and we all know it was Grian who was taken by the watchers after the ender dragon fight and made into one of them.

And we know that in the Life series, Martyn's character is spoken to and told to do various things for the Watchers and saved by the Listeners.

And Jimmy has some kind of Canary Curse that causes him to die first every time.

But, there is a lot more to this that people don't use simply because they haven't seen Jimmy's Evo series.

Most of my headcanon ideas are after my little recap of all the listener moments from Evo and you can skip to that, but if you have never seen Evo or never watched past Grian's POV it is pretty interesting and I think I summed it up pretty well.

----start of very long Evo Recap----

Back in Evo, the Watchers never really liked Jimmy or at points Martyn. This is seen when they get gifts from them representing the Watchers' opinions. Jimmy gets one of the worst ones (a chest with some gold and saplings, likely meaning 'room for growth') matched only by Grian's (a chest of coal with one diamond meaning 'diamond in the rough').

Martyn is shown to be disliked when later on he declares himself mayor due to Taurtis having left, his and Jimmy's Property Police station gets a meteor sent through it by the watchers.

In Jimmy's episode 75 he and Martyn follow a strange noise underneath their destroyed station. They find the listener symbol in bedrock and signs reading 'There are some who watch, we are those who listen. Heed our melody, and await your first mission. Tell nobody." This is the first time we hear about the Listeners and we don't see anything about them again until Jimmy's episode 98.

They had just defeated the ender dragon and had been told the news that "10 will become 9" and that they were taking Grian. In the end credits when they were told this, multiple members were mentioned by name for various things they had done, all except Jimmy.

In Jimmy's episode he spawns in alone. The spawn is destroyed and grown over and in front of him is the Listeners symbol. He finds a book in a chest simply titled "your mission" and 9 enderchests.

The book reads: "there are some who watch, we are those who listen. It is finally time for your first mission. Dragged forwards through time, your spawn old and rotten. Even in the end credits, your name was forgotten. Cruel are the Watchers who think they know best. For us please deliver each player a chest. SHhhh...."

He goes on to do as they ask, one ender chest in each player's base. He is never told what these chests are for. Later the rest of Evo spawns in thousands of blocks away at the new spawn, they make their way back and find the Listener's symbol Jimmy had found is now a Watchers symbol.

The books titled "the future" read: "Our meeting was short and your victory grand, now 10 become 9 and you must leave this land. Our reasons are just, though you won't understand. Your actions have caused this, accidental or planned. Tread now to your homes, carry only what you can. Anymore will be drowned on and the sentence, a ban. We The Watchers Have Spoken."

They find the chests Jimmy had left them and inside is a note from the Listeners labeled "Greetings": "There are some who watch, we are those who listen, and we do not agree with their most recent decisions. 'Carry only what you can', what you deem best, We grant you more space by making use of this chest. SHHhhh....."

Later Jimmy finds signs from Martyn telling him what's going on and where to go. Jimmy shows caution and distrust towards the Watchers but follows all the same.

They set up everything at the new spawn, but in Jimmy's episode 112, he noticed an odd musical ticking sound beneath spawn. He goes around to everyone's base to leave them a sign asking what it is to make sure they know about it. They all gather at spawn and find that it was the Listeners who did it.

Under spawn they find a book titled "Freedom" by the Listeners. It reads: "There are some who watch, we are those who listen, if you flee you'll be free and complete your recission. Single versions are slow, new adventures in store, come with us and we'll give you lots more to explore. Make haste through this maze as a portal awaits, make the choice quick and take control of your fates. SHHhhh...."

They make their way through the maze and eventually find the last portal. They all get ready to make the jump for the last time, and go through the portal. For most this is the end of Evo (Jimmy, Pearl, and Netty do Christmas specials but those are only 2 episodes) meaning that this portal was really some kind of escape.

----end of very long Evo Recap----

This means that not only had the Watchers always had a dislike for Jimmy, but the Listener always had an interest in him and Martyn.

There is also the fact that Jimmy was the one the Listeners chose to deliver the enderchests. Bringing him to the original spawn under the Watcher's nose for this task, giving out something that will later help get around the Watcher's decision. And the fact that he was the one to first notice the strange sound at spawn and then go and warn the others? or at least inform them of this allowing them all to eventually find their escape?

It seems to me like Jimmy had long ago gotten a target painted on his back by the Watchers. With everything from

1) going against them

2) working for the listeners

3) influencing others to go with him

4) they just generally didn't even like him beforehand.

By the time everyone escaped Evo it's a fair assumption that Jimmy is probably at the top of their list of problems.

So, when they make a new experiment with the death games and they have him there? Well, they can't have him staying around long enough to start figuring things out and influencing people, now can they.

And speaking of warning others, he seemed to be so intent on warning the other Evolutionists against the Watchers. What would be a better punishment for going against them, for being one of the main catalyst in it all, then to be cursed to always be the warning. Cursed to always be the first to die, always gone before something big goes down, the Canary in the coalmine. But no matter what his death warns of, there is no escape this time. The coalmine's entrance is sealed and no matter how long you last, soon everything inside will suffocate.

And maybe this feeds into Secret life where he mentions how the Secret keepers symbol looks familiar, or how he decides to team up with Martyn just like in Evo.

Maybe him surviving a little longer in the games and coming back after death as a guardian angel is a testament to how the listeners are stronger in this season. An apology/gift to their first chosen for everything their actions had put him through.

But that's probably just me making far fetched connections and reading too far into things. Could be cool though.

#evo smp #jimmy solidarity #evo spoilers #i guess #martyn inthelittlewood #traffic life series #trafficblr #idk i dont usually tag #echos screaming into the void #echos talking about old Minecraft servers #written at 1:30 am #idk gues evo lives in the back of my mind #watcher lore

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