I’m VerdantGlow, but you can call me Vert (like "fair" but with a V).
- My pronouns are they/them/fae/faer.
- I’m not fandom old, in my opinion, but I am at least fandom middle aged, & if reactions I’ve received in the last year or two are anything to go off of, I’m probably older than you think.
- This is my MCYT sideblog! Here you can find me being hingeless about Bannerfall SMP, Vampires SMP, The Life Series, Hermitcraft, & Empires.
- This blog contains shipping content! If you’re not down with that, this is probably not the place for you to hang.
- I make art! Check out my art tag here: Verdant Art
I didn't manage to watch mcc while it was live but I watched Nom's vod afterwards and man. Amazing
There's something very funny about there being Cam, Eloise, Frogue and the ghost of Nominalgravy to me. It's a silly team and they did great! I was cheering on them and honestly in terms of points they won so they're still the winners in my heart
Nom was cheering on Katie so much it was so sweet :)
And the whole team going absolutely insane every time Cam scored on something Cam was COOKING it was great!!
I loved the whole thing tbh but also now I want to see AUs based off of it or something of the sort because like both the idea of Cam, Eloise, Frogue and the ghost of Nom being yoinked to do challenges against people where some look vaguely familiar, and in general the idea that there are just three people that randomly can see Nom's ghost now. And out of everybody it could've been it's two Red Kingdom members that didn't really care about the guy and Eloise. Such a vibe
Anywayyy if I actually knew anything about the other three I would consider writing something about that myself but unfortunately I haven't really seen them in the streams I've seen so far so I wouldn't know how to write them (I would need to at least watch their last few vods to know how their personality would be post-canon and I don't think I have the time nor motivation rn, I'm still trying to watch Nom's pov and I haven't seen most of the start of the smp streams... and I also wanted to rewatch vampris for fanfic purposes... so welp)
not every mutual fits neatly into an archetypal medievalism but there are some mutuals that im like yeah addressing you as “my liege” would come strangely naturally
a vampire's long term fwbb (friend with blood benefits) making an idle remark about how it was a struggle to handle the aphrodisiac in the bite venom for the first while but now they're used to it and know to expect it and the vampire saying "hey um. so I don't have any bite venom. like at all."
Nom: "I always knew I was going to do a lot of lore with obviously 4c and Katie... what I didn't expect was how closely tied me and Scott's characters were going to be. that was not planned, I didn't really know Scott that well before Bannerfall... met Scott for the first time on Bannerfall, immediately clicked, and then we just ran lore..."
Katie: "similarly here, going in I knew I was going to do stuff with Nom and 4c. I wasn't expecting me and Luanne's characters to be so intertwined and it ended up being one of the sweetest things ever..."
Luanne: "completely unplanned... I picked that tower, and you were also there, and I was like, man, I've gotta do something with Katie."
I cannot begin to express how often I think about the fact that Nom rolled up to his first POW smp, saw Owen & Scott, neither of whom he'd really met before, & instantly was like, "I am going to start the biggest mostly one sided beef with one of these men & become intensely attached to the other." & then they all proceed to just role play the shit out of those dynamics in the most fascinating, nuanced ways.
(& having just gone back & watched Scott's first stream, I was struck by how it really was just like. Day one. Scott says he's thinking about living in the forest & Nom starts talking about how if he does that, then when he invites Nom over for breakfast, he's gonna have to walk all through the woods & stuff to get to Scott's house. & I straight up lost count of the number of times Nom offered to make any tools Scott needs or reminds him to just let him know if he needs any or mentions his plans for the blacksmith's & how it's coming along & estimates on when there'll be a stockpile Scott can grab from.)
Also it makes me think about vsmp & Legs & Cleo just totally hitting it off & both of them just being so surprised & delighted to discover their mad synergy & how they can do such cool work & have so much fun bouncing off each other.
POW smps really are out here creating a new form of compersion for me to parasocially feel: the joy of watching creators find their minecraft roleplay soulmates.
(Soulmates here meant in an entirely non-exclusive way, just someone they have Peak RP Vibes with, no matter how many they find.)
Hot take, but for all that unhealthy parasocial relationships get talked about, especially in the mcyt sphere, we don't talk enough about how healthy parasocial relationships are things that exist as well???
Healthy parasociality are what allow what happenes when you see someone's work they create & recognizing yourself in it, feeling less alone because it exists, imagining new possibilities you thought off limits for yourself, feeling comforted by what someone said or did or made & released into the world without ever actually talking to them. That's one of the biggest examples I see people having. Like, feeling represented by a creator just making cool shit & presenting part of themself is a parasocial interaction, & I see people talk about these things all the time without acknowledging that.
It can become unhealthy if you start placing expectations or demands on them or hinging your emotional well being on them, 'cause damn, y'all don't truly know that creator & they overwhelmingly most likely don't know you like. exist or whatever, you don't get to treat them like they are actually your friend or have to listen to you.
But just hearing someone existing, hearing someone's life experiences they share, & having a positive emotional reaction to it is like. normal. & healthy. & not bad in & of itself just because you don't actually know each other.
Anyway, this post was actually supposed be about how for me personally, the crux of healthy parasocial relationships is deriving just the most joy out of strangers having enjoyable & fulfilling experiences. I love seeing creators get to hang out irl or having a cool new opportunity to do something exciting or creating something they are proud of, & then just getting hit with so much compersion that makes my dang soul glow from being so happy for them. I love when I see people I will never actually know having good experiences & my brain does the contentedness chemicals because someone else's delight enriches my life without me ever even talking to them.
Like... that's really the good shit right there. Happiness spreading like pollen from a freshly opened flower, posts on the internet knocking into the blooms & spreading secondhand joy around the world.
When bf! Scott hid his eyeblossom flower because he was scared someone would steal it, so Nom thought it did actually get stolen and found him a replacement so he wouldn't be sad. And then Nom died and turned into a creaking tree that grows eyeblossom flowers. Do you guys think about that?
When Doctor Legundo arrived at the pearly gates there was a man still waiting, but Legs was still in pain and even after death pain makes everything secondary. He clutched his chest and clung to the warmth left on his skin from the sun's rays and the warmth left in his dead heart from Cleo's arms around him in a simple hug. One moment he was standing and in the next his knees hit what ever the floor was made of in this strange place.
He did it. They would make it out. After weeks of war and building tension and too many of their few lives lost, they did it.
He did it. He did his best to undo his damage and then he left. Legs laughed. This place was a surprise. It was most likely a figment of his dying mind, but after all of Oakhurst he couldn't help but wonder if this place was something more. He looked up to take in the sights, only to see a man sitting on the front steps before beautiful golden gates.
The man sat watching a place in the open air in front of him. His eyes never wavered from that spot. He wasn't even breathing, but after Oakhurst and death itself that didn't bother Legs. He was barely breathing himself. Each inhale and exhale was merely out of habit. The man glanced over and Legs shuddered with an awful sense of déjà-vu. The man had long white hair, soft face, and too familair clothing.
"Hello?" Legs called, voice rough. The man startled. He hesitated to speak the name he wanted to call out, like it would break what semblance of peace was left in him.
"Hello," the man's voice was quiet and full of grief. "Apologies. I'm usually much better company."
"So I've heard," Legs had to admit he was curious about the man he had heard so little about.
"I didn't realize rumors had spread to the land of the living," the man finally looked away from the spot on the ground.
"I got used to the impossible about two months ago," he joked.
"Well. I might not be waiting here much longer anyway, so let the rumors spread."
"Oh?" A chill ran down his back at the thought that Owen might show up in this place, for this man's vigil to be over.
"I won't bore you with my life story" the man's voice cracked. "It looks like you had an eventful crossing."
"It was peaceful, in the end," Legs admitted. He had allowed himself that one selfish luxary.
"Good. That's good. But the rest wasn't?"
"I have enough blood on my hands. I'll leave it at that."
"And yet you're still here," the man commented. Legs stilled. He had hoped the gates were different from the stories of his youth. "Don't be so surprised. In life we rarely see the whole view."
"If this is what I think it is, I have a feeling I won't be here much longer."
The man smiled and stared at that spot on the floor again. "No. I don't think you will."
Legs almost sighed in relief.
"If you were going down with him you would have already."
"Louis," Legs greeted the man.
"There is someone kind in charge. You only stay here if you ask. They understand that we are not creatures that like waiting in uncertainty."
"And you waited. For him," he added needlessly.
"Am I wrong to love him still?" Louis whispered. Legs shifted uncomfortably.
"I don't think I'm the one you should ask."
"He used to be able to tell the birds apart from their songs along. There was one robin that would only ever eat if Owen was there, watching for foxes."
Owen slammed an axe into his skull. Blood ran down his neck as Owen pinned him to the ground and the stars went dim.
Legundo always did have a temper.
"He killed my town," Louis said, staring at that spot in the distance. "Not a single one was spared from his wrath."
Legs stayed quiet.
"There were children that had never met him, or me, in the town hall as he burned it. Children he would have seen grow up and raise children of their own."
Owen trapping him on the top of the watchtower. The pain of flesh tearing as he ripped his arm from Owen's teeth.
"And he did it for me." Louis's voice was flat, dead. "Try as might I can't hate him for it. I don't love him for it, but I can't bring myself to hate him."
"He talked about you," Legs fought to keep his voice civil.
"And I can't bring myself to hate him for what he did to you."
Trust. It was everything Legs could have asked for, an opportunity to help and bond. All it took was some blood and some pain, small things to offer. In the end it cost him everything.
"He could have been so much more," Louis mourned. "He was so much more than what he was to you. He- he buried himself, his true self when I fell."
"He could have been," Legs reluctantly agreed.
"But he wasn't," Louis finished. "And yet I love him."
Legs' hands began to shake and he closed his eyes. At one point he could have loved Owen. His wit, his strong convictions, his grounded nature. Owen's teeth dug into his neck and tore out the ligaments and muscles so that even that first scar would be gone forever. Suddenly Legundo couldn't take this any longer. His curiousity of who this story of a man was, was overtaken by disgust and horror and grief. It wasn't directed towards the man beside him. These were familiar feelings, how he felt about himself.
"He wasn't always like that."
"But he chose to be, in the end," Legs stood, he felt shaky. Unbalanced.
"And that matters just as much as who we choose to be in the middle," Louis said. Legs blinked, and Louis offered through tears: "He was dragged down in fire and brimstone."
Legundo couldn't tell if it was relief, grief, or grim acceptance that washed over him. He didn't deserve to feel relief when he deserved to be down there with him. Owen did not deserve his grief. Grim acceptance felt too small of an emotion to circle the rage and pain and betrayal that refused to leave his chest.
However, Legundo could leave. Perhaps the wrongness of him walking through those gates would be better than this company.
"I'm sorry," Louis offered.
"It was never your fault," Legs offered. Even the rage in his heart wasn't Louis's fault. Legundo was aware enough to know that.
"Neither was it yours," Louis said.
Legs nodded and turned away, letting Louis believe that for his own sake. The gates didn't swing open magesticly for him. There were no trumpets sounding his entry. There was a simple latch that he lifted as he pushed the gates open himself, like walking out into a fenced garden. The field across from him was wider than he could possibly imagine. Perhaps it was big enough for him to find a piece of lesser paradise, far from anyone it would bother.
Maybe one day Legs would be fine with Owen having his own patch of paradise here, far from him and together with the kind man who would wait for eternity. For now, Legs took a step forward and hoped he never had to relive fangs in his neck ever again.
He left Louis alone to wait by the gate for the next wandering soul to greet him.
