#…and also not copy slug too hard while doing it

[toad-in-a-trenchcoat]

tryna figure out how to draw them-

[dwellerinroots]

Just a short review - Rain World

So, although a lot of my posts have been - Elder-Scrolls adjacent, recently, most of the folks who know me know me for my love of weird fiction, speculative fiction, and the like. Also boomer shooters, but that's because... Quake, now there was a game, quake... I love games like @mortallymoonstruckgames Mushroom Musume; a particularly faerie-tale like game that has everything I enjoy in gaming. A dark sense of whimsy, a comforting world that nevertheless is filled with hidden mysteries and dangers, and a lot of mushrooms (culturally important to yours truly). (And if you enjoy TES and especially reading the books within, I really can't recommend it enough!) I love games like Schmidt Workshop's Star Explorers. A very weird throwback stellar dungeon crawler that feels like a long and open-world trip to stars without number... A bit like the old game Noctis, for any similar oddballs out there. Well, due to the awesome @pikkish who you should go check out if you're interested in doomlore, writing, or art... I just found another one. If you like xenofiction, you'll like this one, too. Review beneath the cut!

A lot of the weird indie games I play have this stunning sense of atmosphere. Amon... Uh, give me a minute, Amon Twentysix's Au Sable is a moody and dark adventure that feels like the kind of fever dream I end up chasing while I write. Rain World begins, instantly, in a world that is unknown to you or I. There are things that are familiar and things we can understand, but they are points of reference and lines and structures against what is not.

All the dead structures and windswept ruins and the tides and their ceaseless rise, abetted by the titular rain (rain world; it's right there in the title, natch!) make everything in the life of lil Slug Cat feel what it is - an awful, beautiful, struggle for survival. First I need to mention that this game is hard. Not hard like 'difficult,' I mean that there are a lot of moments where you are simply going to die because that's part of the ecosystem. You can get progressively better at avoiding, even exploiting some of these moments, but - yeah, you're going to die. Death is a constant part of life; it pervades the ecosystem of everything, and have I mentioned the ecosystem? For those that follow me, a lot of what I enjoy is what I'll call critter design, but is better thought of as xenobiology. In a strange system, one that's open or hostile or friendly or strange, where does life fall, how does it work, what do things do? It took me ages to even realise Rain World was a game about these things, far more then just surviving or exploring. Arguably, learning why beasties do what they do helps you the player survive, too. It is one of the COOLEST feelings in a game, although I want to stress again - for those who don't like uncompromising difficulty, I figure this'd be one you can watch a slow, non-vocalised Let's Play of and still enjoy immensely. (Possibly while still buying a copy; because...) The game is artistic to the extreme. Each biome feels like it's own little world, while still connecting to the greater world it's part of. This is hard to get right, on a local level (e.g; metroidvanias that take a look at a small slab of a world) or at the 'global' level, like in Rain World. And we don't travel the entire world; but it feels like we do. Weirdly enough, another game that I want to praise for nailing it is, of all things, a strange game called Dungeon Munchies. Normally I don't care for 'memes' or humour-first games, but it really isn't one of those.

In Rain World, your tools are very limited, your movements need to be cautious, and you have to always be watching. But that doesn't mean you can't communicate - threatening, avoiding, feeding, even wordless negotiation are things that happen and I know I haven't cracked all the interactions just yet! It's - absolutely incredible, and I feel like even including pictures wouldn't explain why it works so well. Also, for those who know me, I believe it hits what folks call 'aesthetic.' Just a slipgate away from home! Summing up my feelings would be a bit much; there are a lot of them. It is an astoundingly beautiful game, incredibly brutal and unforgiving (apparently less so then at launch, mind!) and one that really wants you to uncover it's secrets at it's pace. However, there are a lot of tools to help you do that, and the secrets themselves are beautiful and indescribably touching. You find yourself thinking about moments long after they've happened, or asking yourself "I wonder if" about areas, creatures, interactions... Most of all, though, it feels properly alien. A wonderful setting without humans - or perhaps, with things that were human as a distant memory. It matters not; time has passed, and all returns. For now, sit and rest awhile. Thank you for reading.

[valla-chan]

copying this from my own tags cause actually i want to talk about this on the post after all.

Warning: Long text! feel free to skip!

I feel like having one parent of one kind and one of the other made me this fucking mess that i am now, in a way. It was never explicit or outright but it Never Needed To Be.

I would get harassed for my nails and hair and mannerisms and be made the butt of jokes that i didnt understand by one parent, and then the other would tell me im great the way i am. i guess also there was some kind of ongoing speculation between them as to what my sexuality was?? i do remember that.

It really created this strong, unrelenting feeling that i have a very narrow path to tread before people begin speculating on the different ways that i'm actually somehow fucked up or weird in an unlovable way, but as long as i tread lightly then i can toe the line.

of course, my life has improved since then because they split when i was a preteen (#aayyyy) but it did last long enough to do damage...

(otherwise how else do you explain trying to always "lose people's trail on you", when you feel like theyre onto stuff going on in your head? Trying to maintain the image people have of you, so they dont fall apart at how disgusting you actually are, or instead start drawing uncomfortable connections that will lead to them to that realization anyway? “Finding out”? Finding out what? Who the fuck knows by now! but theyre gonna find me out! and then theyre gonna hate me!)

Results?

For at least a decade and a half everyone has been “Going to Find It Out” about me and i have no fucking clue what that means anymore. because ive already come out and transitioned n shit, and ive been fine for it. that was like my biggest secret for a while. But that feeling of people i care about "finding out" is real enough to keep me from doing anything! (other than hrt cause i woulda literally have offed myself if i had to live even 5 more years as a guy... so thank fuck for the support yknow lol cause otherwise i would have figured out some DIY shit under the table by then. but other, more surface level pursuits still feel off the table, because they are not motivated by literal death if i dont do them in time.)

But its like... the damage is already done.

ive got a supportive family. even the worst of most of them have come around.

But those mental patterns are Mine now. Those thoughts are not theirs to take back anymore.

I have internalized those years of uncomfortable treatment into my own mind and how i work. thats on me now, and im trying to explore and help myself now and its hard.

So make sure to constantly tell your kids that you would love them even if they turned into a fuckin slug. And more importantly, that you accept them and promote them for everything they want to stand for even if you dont agree. Cause MAN, even for maybe not intending to do anything wrong、that shit influenced and ruined every interaction and decision in my life since! Theres no taking that back, even if done on accident through just being a goober parent influenced by current social norms! So imagine doing that level of harm on purpose!

You will create a kid that doesnt have to wonder on the extent of the bounds of how much they will be loved, they will KNOW those bounds. They will feel those bounds in every decision they make and every choice they consider. They will know FOR SURE that they will not be loved for themselves、and that will be on YOU.

and a word of advice, love their potential too... love their choices and their visions and the people they look up to. Cause people change. They are designed to.

you cant just love someone for who they are now and not those other things、or they will be stuck in trying to be that person for life.

And to anyone who reads this who knows me, hi! If this says anything about me as a person, then good! It should!

I think that my mid 20s are going to be some of the most intense self reflection ive had yet, and hopefully that actually goes somewhere unlike how it never does. so forgive, me voices and memories, for becoming someone who i like and who the people i hate don't.

[redphlox]

I received my English copy of the bnha fifth light novel today and ahhh, the Todo family chapter was so insightful, fun to read, and sad all at the same time. I loved all the little details because they tie into the manga. These are just a few of my random incoherent thoughts and reactions I wanted to share with y'all:

Natsuo reflects that as a child, before Shouto was born, he wanted his father's "love and care" , so "he would act energetic and eager" for attention whenever Endeavor was around. But his father never acknowledged him. BUT, Natsuo is grateful that he had his "warm and caring" mother to "help him cope" with that rejection... UGH!! It's horribly devastating that his first memories are of being ignored by someone who's supposed to love him more than anyone else on this planet.

Natsuo goes on to think about how he felt like Shouto stole his mom from him after he was born because she started giving Shouto so much attention. As an adult, Natsuo understands that she was just projecting Shouto from their abuser, but it still hurt. That makes sense - Rei was the only source of parental comfort and acceptance he received and suddenly she was also gone. He must have felt emotionally abandoned, and even moreso (I imagine) after Touya died.

Speaking of Touya, Natsuo thinks about him in passing and I get the feeling it's painful to think about Touya. That makes sense too, considering why Touya died. In the chapter, Natsuo also reflects that Touya will always be the same age he is in his picture at the altar so it feels like time stands still in that room 😭 😭 😭 UGH!!!

Natsuo is just incredibly angry that his family is broken. He blames Endeavor because he sought out Rei for a quirk marriage, treated them like they don't matter, and abused Shouto.

Natsuo's onii-chan instincts start to kick in as he tries to make small talk with Shouto because they've barely talked. He kicks himself (mentally) for being so awkward but again, blames Endeavor because this is all his fault that he doesn't have a relationship with Shouto...

Meanwhile, Fuyumi really does go out of her way to make a happy family. She and Natsuo dance around each other awkwardly when Natsuo says something angry about their dad and she tries to be positive, trying to not upset the other. This makes so much sense in light of chapter 302 where Fuyumi says she always knew her family was broken but tried to pretend it was all okay. Ahhh. I love that this really ties into that chapter, which hadn't even been out yet at the time this novel was published in Japan. Hori must really guide this author and approve of things beforehand.

The amount of guilt and inadequacy that Natsuo feels because he couldn't do anything to protect his little brother when Endeavor was actively beating him is genuinely awful. That also coincides with his comment in 302 about slugging Endeavor and making him talk to Touya. This poor boy is filled to the brim with unprocessed sorrow and feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. Not surprised either - this is a fairly common reaction for survivors of abuse and dysfunctional families, but it hurts to see Natsuo carry around this pain and misplaced responsibility.

Fuyumi does try to console Natsuo and tells him that his pain is still valid after Natsuo compares his abuse to Shouto's. UGH!!! 😭 😭 I love that even though both Natsuo and Fuyumi are on opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to their dad (anger vs. willingness to give him a chance) that they don't dismiss each other. They're actually very considerate of each other's feelings. LOVE IT!! There's a sentence in this chapter about how Natsuo and Fuyumi have been together in this all this time and he can't hide his feelings from her. She knows him too well. YESSS, that sibling bond ♥

Fuyumi sets it up so that Natsuo and Shouto spend some alone time together while she cooks. Natsuo tries to play ball with Shouto but they just end up falling in the koi pond. Later, Shouto says he was caught off guard when Natsuo threw the ball because that was the ball Natsuo and their other siblings would play with all the time and Shouto always watched them and wished he could play too. 😭 😭 😭 😭 Natsuo sheds a few tears fndjdjsjsjdj. What could have been... 😭 😭 😭 This is literally a grieving process for them both - they lost their childhoods. There are no do-overs. And Natsuo blames himself for not going out of his way to invite Shouto to play. Like, Natsuo... You were also a baby 😔 don't be hard on yourself.

Shouto's baby-of-the-family genes kick in too when the soba he and Natsuo were making is a major failure and he's feeling emo about it. His siblings chuckle at him and tease him. Shouto is like, "THIS IS A TRAGEDY IT'S NOT FUNNY" 🤣 but smiles with them anyway.

Endeavor is almost crushed by a villain with a King Kong quirk lmao. The siblings watch this on the news. After Endeavor wins, Shouto goes back to mourning his soba. lmao.

At the end the siblings wish this is just the first of many get togethers!!! And I hope so too!! 💞

[crevicedwelling]

What's your opinion on Red Triangle Slugs? (Largest slug in Australia)

And have you ever kept any? I'm hoping to get a couple pretty soon so am looking for first hand accounts of keeping them that aren't those godawful copy paste care guides that have serious mistakes in them that make them untrustworthy (opening the floor to your possible red triangle slug keeping followers)

Australia does not import or export any creatures as pets, last I heard. I do not live in Australia so I have no legal way to obtain one if I wanted to (I do not.)

Triboniophorus largely eat lichens on tree trunks if I recall correctly. While some people in Australia do keep them, I doubt they’d be easy to keep alive long-term and probably hard to breed. I haven’t done much research on keeping them since they’re not really relevant to me though.

I did try to keep some Caracolus marginella snails from Florida once, which are largely lichen grazers as well. I might’ve kept them too cool which could’ve also been a factor, but they seemed to suffer & perish on a diet low in lichen even though I tried to offer as much as I could.

[cc-0420]

au of an au: han and boba parent trap cody and obi-wan

“i’m not doing it.”

“is it really that bad?”

“there is no negotiations. you are his excellency’s best bounty hunter,” the droid translated as the slug looked to boba, “and you are his best smuggler,” he said turning to han. “the two of you will have to work together for this job or neither will get paid nor have his services again.”

“if it’s full pay, i’m in,” han responded, “no reason to turn away from this job.”

“you doubt pirates, child?” han scowls at that. “both you and fett will get the pay promised if you complete the task.”

fett didn’t even glance at han from his helmet, “if he dies, it’s not my fault,” and walks out the door.

“man, you need to chill,” han follows him like a loth-cat, “we got a better chance together, right?”

not responding to the question, “we’re taking my ship,” boba sneers, continuing his path.

“you know, my ship made the kessel run in less than 12 parsecs!”

“i don’t care.”

~~~

the ride to florrum was silent as the two men were up to their own devices. upon landing they were greeted by a group of pirates.

“what can i do for you, boys?” what han assumed was the leader inquired.

before han had a chance to speak, his companion butt in, “we were hired to pick up the product for jabba. i assume you are hondo?”

i see he avoided mentioning that were to capture this hondo under jabba’s orders, han thought, would cody do this? Maybe he should’ve commed him for advice.

“captain hondo, i am. best pirate in the galaxy,” he made a jester to the building, “come on in and we can get you a drink to settle in-“

everything went black.

~~~

“why did you do that? the drugging normally works!” a voice broke out from the ringing in his ears

“sorry, boss, but I thought the helmeted one was going to pull a blaster on you.”

after a moment, han’s eyes were finally able to peel open. he was inside a cell, it seemed, with two weequays watching him, one of which being hondo. before he could quip to them, they already left and locked the door.

han began to look around, his mind running the simulators cody would make him go through for situations such as these, when his eyes landed on the body in armor.

he snorted, not so mighty, are you, fett?

han worked to untie the bonds from his arms, then shifting to the door. kriff, he’s never seen anything like it.

suddenly, a moan was heard as fett began waking up, “what the kriff happened?”

“we got captured, no thanks to you.”

“well, it’s not like you did anything!”

“i’m a smuggler. hurting people is not my job!”

fett didn’t respond, but han would bet 10 credits he was rolling his eyes under his helmet.

“did you try and get out?”

“if i could, i wouldn’t be here,” yet still held up his free wrists, “I’ve never seen a lock like this,” han continued pointing towards the door.

“i wouldn’t have expected you to. hondo has captured jedi before. he knows his stuff,” by then, fett already freed his hands.

“how do you-?”

“ah! you boys are up!” before han could finish his question, hondo was already barging in, “and yes. i once captured my best friend, obi-wan kenobi and a few other force users in this cell.”

“oh, i know. though he wouldn’t consider you a best friend.”

“how would you know? sadly, he is long dead. i was sad to hear when the jedi were killed. he will always have a special place in my heart.”

fett scoffed, “thanks for the story. can we leave?”

“nope, jabba’s been a pain in my side for years. instead, we’ll bargain you off for the highest bidder. you both seem pretty valued by the empire…” hondo ended walking out.

“that hypocrite!”

“oh, stop pouting under there.”

the next day passed slowly, the door only opening for food. han was growing homesick. he was with cody for 5 years now and chewbacca 2. he’s taken jobs without them, but at least he was kept busy. fett lounged in his corner, sitting still. it was creepy how he never took off the mask, and han made sure to let him know.

one night, he pulls out his holo of cody. it was hard to forget, but it was easier to have on him on long missions away. the glow from it lit up the room and caught the bounty hunter’s attention.

“what’s that?”

“none of your business,” han reached to turn it off. fett clearly saw it and reached into his own armor.

he pulled out his own holocron and the same picture emerged, cody and a man with red hair and beard. when he first received the holo, han would ask cody about the man in the robes, but would always get brushed off. he learned not to ask as he recognized the faraway look in his eyes.

“how do you have that?” han spit out. cody was his family, through thick and thin and fett wasn’t welcome.

“ben is my guardian,” he said pointing to the other man.

“you know him?”

“obviously.”

the thick air was broken by fett first

“how do you know cody?”

“he’s my father,” and before fett could respond, “well, the closest thing to a father i ever had.”

fett stared again and before han could say anything else, he reached for the helmet.

underneath was the eyes he knew to love. the lips that pulled into a firm line whenever han misbehaved. the nose that would scrunch up when han disgusted him. in front of him was a young copy of cody. a clone.

“you’re a clone.”

“i’m a person.”

“why are you younger than cody?”

“cause i’m a person.”

that didn’t answer han’s questions.

“do you work for the empire like the clones?” fett asked.

“what do you mean? cody doesn’t work for the empire. the clones are there against their will! there’s chips in their brain! cody told me!”

“really?” unlike most times he talked, fett wasn’t being sarcastic, “if that’s true…”

“so, cody knows ben?” han pushed. cody told him many stories of his brothers, but not much of anything else.

“he was his jedi general before he shot him down,” fett’s eyes trailed their faces on the holo, “no one knew of the chips and began blaming the clones.”

“is that why you wear the mask?”

“no!” boba rose from his makeshift seat, “how many times do i have to tell you i’m not one of them? this helmet was my fathers. i was never a mindless soldier.”

“they’re not mindless soldiers!” growing irritated, han thought back to all the times cody stood up for him when he was in trouble. the tales he would tell of his brothers.

boba shrunk at that and whispered to himself, “they’re not mindless soldiers.”

the silence fell over them again. han trying to make out the emotions on boba’s face, while he was looking anywhere but at han.

“cody was a better brother to me than he should have been. i treated the clones like scum, but now i know this truth,” boba waved his hand around, “he never would have wanted us to fight. neither would ben.”

“i’m sorry for your loss.”

“excuse me?” boba stared, “ben is not dead,”

han stared back, “what? you said cody shot him. and cody never talks about him.”

“well,” boba paused, thinking of the pros and the cons. pros being that ben could see cody again and boba wouldn’t have to watch him be all weepy. con would be that han is lying. he weighed his options before coming to a decision, “that was the point. the jedi had to be believed to have been wiped out.”

han contemplated on his end. despite never talking about ben explicitly, cody always talked about how amazing his general was. if fett really knew him, and it seemed like he definitely did, maybe they could come to an agreement, “cody would want to know.”

“i know,” before thinking, boba added on, “they cared for each other too much.”

rather than dwell on that phrase, “can we get them to meet up again? after we get out of here.”

“ben wouldn’t want to give up his position,” boba put his holo away, “but you are right about them wanting to know. i have an idea.”

~~~

the escape was easy once the two worked together. they also decided, screw jabba and abandoned their mission. both of them were smart enough not to have a debt with him anyway.

they decided that they will each send a signal to their respected guardians saying they need help on tatooine due to a mission gone wrong. it was easy for han to come cody, in which the commander responded he’ll be there in a few hours. on the other hand, boba didn’t have a comm for ben, with the fear of giving up his position. instead, he got in contact with a tuskin raider.

han stared in shock as boba let out a series of growls and hand motions to the creatures before they ran off. at his disgruntled look, boba replied with a simple, “ben helped them out a couple times,” that didn’t answer any of his questions.

ben got their first. he looked much more aged compared to the holo. the man gave boba his best wtf face. “kenobi,” han’s head shot up at that, “sorry to bring you out here.”

suddenly, the man locked up, all emotion wiped and reaching in his robes, “are you turning me in boba?”

“no, i didn’t mean to scare you,” he looked to han, “this is a companion i made on my last bounty. he has some news for you.”

really, fett? you’re making me talk? luckily, cody’s ship was pulling in overhead, but the elderly man got more on edge. han quickly reached for his holo and pulled open the picture of the men.

“umm, this is my father figure,” he said pointed to cody, “boba said he knew you and that you should talk it out.”

ben glanced between him, boba, and the ship that was slowly opening up.

“i didn’t give away our position, but you need to know,” boba said, looking towards the ship.

cody emerged and rushed to han, enveloping him into a hug, “are you alright? did these people help you?”

his eyes swept over boba, not recognizing the armor and turned to ben who was looking at him like he saw a ghost.

“general?”

“cody?”

“i’m sorry. i couldn’t- i’m sorry…”

before he could go on, obi-wan swept him into a hug, “it’s okay, commander, it’s okay…”

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 9

PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Chapter 9 - Tonks' Breakdown

Nova

I don't want to brag but I think I did great on my exams so far. I just came out from Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam and was done for the day. I winked at Charlie, who was still waiting on his turn and was shaking his legs, nervous as he still thinks that Professor Rakepick, “should have at least showed us all the spells she was going to so coldly demand from us”, he said this morning as he ate what I think was about his third bowl of cereal. Penny was right; he was a nervous eater.

I hoped that I indicated that the exam isn't that bad after all as I was prohibited to speak with him after I finished.

I decided to wait for him in the Great Hall, going through my Transfiguration notes one more time on my own as I knew the lot would occupy me right after dinner to help them with their final revision.

One by one they came into the Hall to join me.

“That wasn't hard at all, was it?” Charlie sat down next to me and gently slapped me on the back.

“I told you, Char, I don't know what you've expected. We got this.” I raised my hand so that our hands clapped in a high-five and he started to put food on his plate.

—

“Say, where is Tonks? She stormed out of that classroom as she was done that I almost missed her pink head.” Charlie said, now with a full mouth.

“Hmm, I thought she wasn't done yet but T is before W.” Tulip scratched her chin.

“We did say we'll meet here after the exam to study Transfiguration right?” I asked.

Before we could question Tonks' disappearance any further, Penny came rushing in the Hall, panting.

“You...you have...to...help me!” Her hands on her knees as she was trying to catch her breath.

“Penny what's going on?” Tulip stood up at once.

“It's...Tonks! She completely lost it...because of the exams. She said that...her brain will explode if she has to study...for one more exam and that she's dropping out of school.” Penny finally finished.

“Well, maybe she should drop out then.” Charlie said with a straight face. We all frowned at him.

“We do have one more exam and she did say that her brain will explode if she has to study for one...” Charlie stopped talking as he saw none of us were amused by the joke he tried to tell. “Not the time to make jokes. Got it.” He scratched the back of his head, his freckled cheeks turning pink.

“Where is she now?” I turned back to Penny.

“In our dormitory. She's packing her bags!” Panicked Penny.

“Wow, she really did take her words seriously.” Tulip indicated that we should all go towards the Hufflepuff Common Room.

We ran all the way there and stopped a little before the entrance. Penny told us to stay put as she went inside to get Tonks. We didn't know what to do when Penny brings her outside. We did have only one more exam, even though I had to admit, Tonks did the worst of any of us in Transfiguration despite being a Metamorphmagus.

Charlie started doing fairly well by the end of the year as he tried his best to copy everything from me. Tulip and Penny were starting to get a hang of it once we formed our little study group. Tonks, however, couldn't transform her matchstick into a needle if it was the last thing she had to do.

I told her that she just has to focus more on the image of the thing she wants to transfigure her original object to but for some reason she couldn't get a clear picture in her head as her needle kept having a matchstick tip or was wooden instead of metal. I knew she was nervous about it but I had no idea it was this bad.

Penny interrupted my train of thoughts as she opened the door to the Hufflepuff Common Room, basically dragging Tonks behind her. By the look on Tonks's face, she wasn't very happy about it.

“Let me go, Penny. I still have some of those slugs, I will unleash them on you!” Tonks frowned at her.

“Tonks, what is going on?” I tried to change the subject.

“What is going on? What is going on, you ask?” Her hair was changing colors with every word she said.

“This is too much, that's what's bloody going on!” She lifted her hands in the air and started to pace back and forth in front of us.

“Tonks we have all been stressed out about our exams. We only have one more to go!” Charlie tried cheering her up.

“Yeah and just yesterday you told me that you think you did well on Herbology and Astronomy.” Added Tulip. “Or did your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam gone so bad for you?” She questioned.

“No, I think I did rather well. Transfiguration, however...”

“Tonks you have been doing great the past few days. Professor McGonagall isn't going to fail you if you don't perform all the transfigurations correctly.” I interrupted her.

“I don't care if I fail!” She howled at us. “I just don't want to study anymore. It's exhausting and it seems that's all we are doing lately.”

I couldn't help but chuckle as her hair finally came back to her normal bubblegum pink.

“Tonks that's what happens before the exams. I know none of us had any free time lately. Nova and I miss going down to the Lake and it's been like a week since we were at Hagrid's for tea.” Charlie grinned sympathetically.

“I have so many ideas for pranks that I have started writing them down since we don't have time to execute any of them.” Tulip joined the cheering train.

“I haven't drawn in two weeks, I can almost feel my talent slipping away and Pip didn't even hoot at me this morning when I went to send my mum a letter. He thinks I'm ignoring him so he's doing the same to me.”

“And I didn't touch my Advanced Potion Making book in three days and that says a lot about me.” Penny finished and we all nodded in agreement.

“I don't know mates, this is all too hard and this is our First Year. What will happen to me when we have to take our O.W.L.s?” Tonks sat on the floor.

“How about you worry about one exam at a time.” Penny and the rest of us sat down next to her.

“You're going to do fine and look on the bright side: once we're done we can go down to the Lake or visit Hagrid and just stare at the sky without a single worry.” I put my hand around her shoulder.

“Blimey, you really are the best friends a lad can have.” She wiped her nose with the end of her sleeve as tears gathered in her eyes.

“But just that you know, I am only doing this for you lot!”

“Of course you are.” Charlie smiled, stood up, and put his hand out to help Tonks get up. “Now, what do you say we go to the Great Hall to have some dinner and study for the last exam of the year?” He pushed Tonks away from the Hufflepuff Common Room just in case she would change her mind and try to run away again.

“You already had dinner.” I whispered to Charlie.

“Hey, I'm supporting our friend here.” He said with a serious voice that made me giggle, knowing that he wouldn't say no to another piece of apple pie.

After eating some mashed potatoes and fried chicken, Tonks finally calmed down. We were all sitting around her just in case she had any ideas of escaping. Then we slowly pulled out the Transfiguration books and notes, careful not to startle her as I tried to pull the conversation towards the subject.

Before I let her do any spells as she did seem to have theory pretty much figured out, I made her close her eyes and made her give me 3 details about a match and 3 about a needle. After she finished describing them I gave her both objects and told her to try to connect the details to the objects. I also gave her quite some time to touch and observe them and after about an hour and a half, I marked her ready.

“Okay, now look at the matchstick and imagine a needle in its place instead.” I was standing right behind her as I whispered in her ear.

“Now, have your wand ready. Concentrate on what the matchstick needs to become and say Conmutocus. Don't forget to create a sharp jab right to the match with your wand.”

Tonks took a deep breath, murmured something to herself, and said “Conmutocus.” She jabbed her wand sharply towards the matchstick and sure enough, it transformed into a needle.

Penny gasped.

“Wicked!” Charlie and Tulip said at once.

“You did it, Tonks!” I shook her shoulders, still standing behind her.

“You did it, Nova. You taught me Transfiguration! Blimey, you might be a better teacher than McGonagall.” She turned around and gave me a big, tight hug.

She then grabbed the tiny needle with her fingers, stood on the bench she was sitting on, and yelled “I did it, ha!” as she put her hands in the air.

We all laughed, while the Ravenclaws at the other table rolled their eyes.

“Well, congratulations, Miss Tonks. I reckon I can expect the same tomorrow at the exam?” We all turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind us, a slight smile on her lips.

“I...I'm sorry professor, were we too loud?” Tonks' cheeks turned pink as she realized that McGonagall probably saw her stand on the bench and shout in the middle of the half-empty Great Hall.

“Oh, not at all. By all means shout as much as you need to, Miss Tonks, if that is going to help you transfigure matchsticks into needles.” She winked at her. “I do have to ask, however,” she continued, “how did you manage to finally do it as it was just dreadful to watch your failed attempts in class?”

“Nova taught me, Professor. She taught all of us.” A grin spread across her face.

“Well then.” Professor McGonagall turned to me. “It's 4 of you, 10 points for each one you taught, Miss Blackwood. Good luck to all of you tomorrow.” She crossed her hands in front of her, smiled, and left.

“You just earned 40 points for Ravenclaw!” Tulip squeaked.

“I don't think that's fair as Penny did way more for us for our Potions exam.” I frowned, feeling guilty.

I didn't praise my effort half as much as I did that of Penny's. The lot would've passed even if I didn't teach them. I was highly confident we would've all failed Potions if it wasn't for Penny though.

“Get off it, Nova. I don't care.” Penny smiled at me. “What you just made Tonks succeed in is everything compared to some notes and potion ingredients.” She added.

The next day we made Penny promise to get up early to check on Tonks and to bring her down for breakfast even if she had to use the Levitation Charm on her. Even though Tonks was visibly nervous and didn't eat any breakfast, we were confident that she was not going to run away and after she told us how she dreamt about how she turned every object Professor McGonagall gave her to transform the right way, we were confident that she was going to pass.

During the exam, I kept glancing at Tonks to see how she was doing. After 15 minutes of her nose being firmly in the exam paper, I let it go and focused on my exam which I turned in 15 minutes too early as it was just the easiest thing ever.

I returned to my desk to get my bag and I heard Charlie whisper “show off”. I glanced at his paper and saw that he left the line where he was supposed to write the incantation for fork to quillempty.

“Scribblifors, Char.” I whispered and glanced at Professor McGonagall frowning at me and cleared her throat.

I quickly grabbed my bag and ran out of the classroom.

Waiting for the practical exam seemed to wreck everybody's nerves as people kept swinging their wands and mutter spells under their breaths. One by one, we were called inside and when we finally all met in the Great Hall I was pleased to hear that all of them did quite well. Charlie managed to turn his whistle into a watch. Tonks had to recreate her success from the previous day which she announced from the door of the Great Hall, making the Ravenclaws roll their eyes again as they were trying to study in peace.

In the final two weeks, as we were waiting for our exam results, we spent most of our days outside. It was warm and there was hardly a day with a cloud in the sky. We could all lay loose, read our favorite books and draw. Pip finally stopped ignoring me as Hagrid made his favorite treats and I went to the Owlery twice per day to give them to him.

The last day before we would get the final exam results we decided to spend down by the Lake. Charlie was rereading his From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon-Keeper's Guidefor what seemed the third time that week. Penny and Tulip were playing Gobstones and Tonks was napping. I knew that I won't be able to see my friends over the Summer and as that thought grew larger every day I decided to take this opportunity and draw them as they were all sitting under a tree, too occupied with their activities to notice that I stood up and moved a little bit away from them.

As I never drew humans before, I was surprised at how much fun I was having. I carefully drew Penny's big eyes and Tulip's smug face when Penny lost to her in Gobstones. I took extra time to get Tonks' snoring face and I think I did Charlie's freckles justice as much as his hair.

—

“Oh, I am so nervous.” I took a deep breath as we were all waiting in the Great Hall while teachers were handing us envelopes.

We opened them immediately when we got them and I went through my results:

Herbology E

History of Magic A

Potions E

Flying O

Charms O

Astronomy A

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Transfiguration O

“I've passed all my classes!” Tulip and I exchanged exam results. Hers read:

Herbology A

History of Magic A

Potions A

Flying E

Charms E

Astronomy O

Defense Against the Dark Arts E

Transfiguration A

“Nice job, Tulip!” I said and we hugged. After the teachers finished giving us all results we ran to the Hufflepuff table.

“So, did you all pass Potions?” Penny asked excitedly.

She and Tonks exchanged the results with Tulip and me. I read Penny's first then sneaked at Tonks' over Tulip's shoulder.

Herbology E

History of Magic E

Potions O

Flying E

Charms O

Astronomy O

Defense Against the Dark Arts E

Transfiguration E

Penny's results not only surprised me but took me aback. She might as well be the best witch in our year. Not a single Acceptable and she got Outstanding in Charms even though she started the year rather poorly in that department.

Herbology O

History of Magic A

Potions A

Flying E

Charms A

Astronomy A

Defense Against the Dark Arts A

Transfiguration E

“Tonks you got Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration!” I exclaimed. She told us that she did quite well but I hadn't the slightest idea she did that good.

“Thank you, Nova. Actually, thanks to all of you.” She smiled and pulled us into a tight hug.

I felt someone behind me as Charlie put me in a hug sandwich between him and the girls as he just came from the Gryffindor Table.

He handed me his result sheet and winked.

Herbology A

History of Magic A

Potions A

Flying O

Charms O

Astronomy E

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Transfiguration E

“Three Outstandings.” He grinned proudly as I finished reading his results and looked at him in awe.

“If we are going to study like this together and get such good results each year perhaps Tonks won't have to run away anymore.” We all laughed at Charlie's joke.

“Will mum yell at me or did you do good on your exams?” Bill joined us and ruffled Charlie's hair. Charlie gave him the exam results.

“Blimey, who helped you study so much? You're going to make me look bad in front of mum.” Bill's mouth fell open.

“Perhaps next year you can join us.” Penny grinned at Bill. Tulip, Tonks, and I giggled as we all knew very well that Penny wanted Bill to study with us so she could get ahead in her Potions studies.

The next day was our final one before we would board the Hogwarts Express to take us home. We couldn't help but feel a bit bummed out as we knew we wouldn't be able to see each other the whole Summer.

After Dumbledore's end-of-the-year speech, we had a feast that seemed even bigger than the one at the start of the year. As Tulip and I were walking upstairs to our dormitories we couldn't help but reminisce about all the times we got lost on our way to classes or the Great Hall this year. We both knew we were going to do better next year as we already couldn't wait to come back.

[capricornus-rex]

What You Fear To Lose (2)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by: Anon | Prompt:

Okay so maybe a fic where Cal keeps having nightmares and visions when he meditates of the reader dying and the events leading up to her death. He starts being really protective and the reader tries to reassure him shes fine. But on a mission things start happening that he saw in the visions before the reader dies and gets really on edge. You can decide how it ends, aka reader dying in cals arms to make me cry or him saving her to also make me cry! Sorry if this is too much!!💕

Tags: Near-death! Reader

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of 3

The next morning, Cal woke up realizing that he was late for the morning briefing; he rushed to the room where Cham Syndulla and his fighters are gathered. He finds you standing at the far back, away from the crowd, yet listening intently to the leader.

“Hi,” Cal huffed, gasping for air as quietly as he could. “Did I miss anything?”

“Oh hey, not much. Cham was just getting started,”

You filled him on the minor details before the Twi’lek got to the chunk of the plan; pointing which teams go where, when to strike, and who to avoid. Later, Cham turned to the two Jedi which prompted you to step forward and the people gave way for you.

“This section is the most crucial—and obviously the most well and heavily-guarded—with your weapons and knowledge in better combat, you two are our only chance of ever achieving our objective. You must destroy the main shield generator so we can have a better chance in taking it down with aerial assault. Can I count on you, Jedi Knights?”

There was a pause. You stepped closer to the hologram, your head panned across the very edge up until the blinking red square on the map that indicates the objective. You turned back to Cham and your signature confident smug plastered all over your face.

“Trouble seems to be our only selling point. Why don’t we give the Empire a free trial?”

Cheers filled the conference chamber, brandishing their weapons of all types, and fighters poured out of the mound—a handful rode in their mounts, whilst several continued on foot.

You and Cal were on the vanguard, with a designated assault squadron flanking you for cover.

This was only the beginning phase of the plan. The assault squadron that charged with you traded shots with the baffled Stormtroopers that were standing by and keeping watch at the main entrance. The pair of Jedi assisted the fighters as they faced head on with the melee-wielding Stormtroopers.

“Requesting reinforcements! The main entrance is being overwhelmed by rebels!” a Stormtrooper cried out helplessly before taking a shot from a blaster rifle.

“Go, Jedi! Half of the squad will cover for you once you’re inside!” Cham bellowed.

“Come on!” you beckoned Cal and he ran by your side.

The two of you come across a human barricade of Stormtroopers between the entrance of the stronghold and you. The barricade was spearheaded by a rocket launcher-wielding trooper, he already had a single shot loaded into his weapon, and all he needed was to pull the trigger.

A torpedo comes popping out of the barrel of the weapon. With your combined lightning-fast reflexes, you and Cal worked together—with his Force-Slow, he hindered the slug in mid-air, ripples in the air encased the large bullet, and your ability to manipulate the flow of objects using the Force comes into play: your hands weaved the air in a continuous spinning motion to which the slug motioned in a similar manner until it now faces the opposite direction. Cal then released his focus on the bullet and sends it flying back to the row of Stormtroopers—including the one who shot it.

The entire stronghold is now on high alert, but the two of you eluded the eyes of the Stormtroopers marching across the hallways until you could reach the objective. Neither confidence nor arrogance have a place in this mission, so going in quietly was the best option. The hallway you prowled through was similar to the fortress in Nur, though neither of you sense anything… yet.

“Cham, we’re inside the stronghold. Stormtroopers are coming your way,”

“Copy that. We’ll be ready for them, they haven’t thinned out my numbers yet!”

You and Cal sprinted through the hallway, eager to get to the objective. Along the way, the Stormtroopers have started pouring into your direction and you have no choice but to fight through it.

“Calculating attack success probability.” The Imperial security droid monotonously annunciated as you dodge-rolled its uppercut punch.

This was already the third wave of enemies. The Jedi were beginning to anticipate that the next wave is bound to be more difficult than the last.

“They killed our droid!” a Stormtrooper whimpered.

“Oh no, now they look mad!” another followed.

To the Stormtroopers’ eyes, the blinding beams that are your sabers dazed them, messing up their aim and footing in effect; the Jedi were fluid and lithe with their attacks and general movements that none of the Stormtroopers’ blasters can find its mark.

The arrival of a Purge Trooper in the skirmish somehow became their beacon of relief. Humbled by the presence of the black-clad trooper wielding a massive electrohammer, they’ve technically placed all their hope of survival in their more tenacious, high-tier comrade.

“Two Jedi? Looks like my lucky day!” the Purge Trooper hissed through his helmet.

You made yourselves busy with the inferior Stormtroopers first before setting your sights on the Purge Trooper.

“Puh! They never even stood a chance anyway!” the enemy taunted, striking the floor with the pommel of his weapon.

Cal exchanged glances with you and for a moment, there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. With each of you running on the walls on either side and leapt off at the end with an overhead strike, you took the Purge Trooper by surprise but he was quick-witted enough to deflect both attacks.

“Oh-ho-ho!! A worthy challenge!” he chortled.

The joint stunt you did with Cal somewhat enabled the Purge Trooper rather than intimidate him, now he’s gotten more brutish with his attacks albeit sluggish—which you took advantage of. Cal immediately engaged him as a diversion while you sneak in and exploited an opening, regardless how narrow that window of opportunity might be.

To your surprise, the Purge Trooper deflected your sneak attack with his own gauntlet! A cocky snicker muffled through his helmet and he literally has his hands full with both of you. A hard kick to the shin from Cal caused the brute to lose his footing and it granted you a short time to finally kill the Purge Trooper.

You pulled your saber away from his gauntlet and while he fumbles, you released a triad of slashes across his body, severing his armor in half until an ember-encrusted gash across his body steals away the last breath in his lungs. The two of you stood there with your mouths agape while sucking in air.

“Well then… that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cal blurted.

You threw yourself into Cal’s arms, not even as a response to his remark, but simply out of your heart’s content. You took Cal by surprise, he felt your fingers crumpling the back of his jumpsuit as you cling onto him. You drew the strength to pull away and shyly avert your eyes from him.

“Sorry… I just couldn’t help it… I don’t know what came over—”

He ignored your nervous rambling of reasons, he cupped your cheeks and his lips met yours for the very first time. His thumb caressed the fullness of your cheek as his tongue sneakily dips into your mouth. Of course by instinct, you kiss him back—tenderly sucking the bottom of his lip as you held him by the neck.

Even when he has pulled away, Cal followed up another kiss—but tender and short.

“Now isn’t really the best time but… I just wanted you to know it before shit goes down.”

You breathed out a chuckle, “Oh Cal, I know… I know.”

There was an exchange of awkward but endearing smiles, accompanied by snickers in between.

With your heads back in the game, you find your way to the place where the red blip on the map showed.

“There’s the door!” you squealed.

The blast door starts to open, slowly revealing a tall, hulking figure standing on the other end.

Your path was cut off by the Fifth Brother, a gray, hulking brute whose helmet made him resemble a Zeffonian or the guardian in its tombs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he hummed, brandishing his dual-ended lightsaber.

“Wouldn’t you like to know!?” you snarled back.

Your lightsabers hissed back as you assumed stances. The Fifth Brother remained indifferent.

There appeared to be no room for small talk. The two Jedi faced the Inquisitor head on. Even though the dark warrior was outnumbered, his strength was twice the combination of your strength and Cal’s.

Meanwhile, Cham Syndulla was beginning to get worried why you and Cal were taking so long. He had feared the worst—and it has come true.

The Inquisitor has lured his enemies into the other side of the blast door, leading you into the exact place where you needed to be: the main shield generator chamber. Sitting at the center of the vast room is the pillar coated with electric currents—in other words: your target.

He’s made this duel much trickier. The walkways that lead to the main pillar had no railings, they lead straight into the abyss of the shaft, and it limited your space, thus forcing you to be more tactful with your movements.

“Careful!” Cal cried out.

“I know!”

The Fifth Brother’s fighting tactics was similar to the Ninth Sister’s, however, he moves in a feather-like grace despite his physical appearance—rendering his elusive and dexterous with his attacks. It was too impractical for both of you to keep on charging, it was a given fact that if he saw that strategy, he will just tire both of you out until he emerges victorious.

The Fifth Brother dealt a hit on your shoulder, afterwards he used the Force to push you away from him just so he can target Cal next.

When Cal got a little too close, the Fifth Brother landed his elbow against the boy’s jaw, disorienting him until he staggers backwards. He interrupted his fall by holding onto the edge of the bridge, the Inquisitor stood by the edge and hovered his foot just an inch above Cal’s fingers.

“No, get away from him!” you violently pulled the Inquisitor away from the ledge, making him return his attention to you.

He watched you bring yourself back up to your feet. You winced as you got both feet flat on the floor. The Inquisitor almost gutted you open by the abdomen—luckily, the thick fabric of your jacket only made the strike into a graze but it still burned on your skin. You looked at your arm, deep red blood dribbled and stained your tattered sleeve, and the seared flesh peeked through the slit that the Inquisitor has cut on your clothes.

“Pitiful! Stand up straight, girl!” he roared.

Cal immediately pulled himself up and saw that you weren’t in your best shape, but the Inquisitor had no regard to that and marched right towards you. The Inquisitor’s large hand braced your neck and hoisted you up from the floor, your legs kicked as you struggled for air, your small hands couldn’t loosen his crushing grip around your throat.

“This is the fight I was promised? Pssh, shame.”

Cal’s heart sank the moment the Fifth Brother drove his lightsaber into your abdomen. He didn’t even grant you to dignity to stand up straight as you prepared to face him.

The sensation was excruciating. Your body didn’t know whether to cough to recover from the choke or gasp for oxygen as you felt like you were a balloon that’s been ruptured open and is quickly running out of air.

You found Cal’s eyes, wide and wrought with anguish, and it slowly curdled into a seething rage—a dangerous seething rage that can be weaponized when the tables have turned.

[bethhxrmon]

do flowers exist at night? -chapter three

Chapter Three: Don’t Lose Your Head

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter Summary: With rumors still flying around, things have yet to get any easier for Annie. Coupling that with her terrifying illusions, it’s easy to see why it is difficult for her to not fall apart underneath everything.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, sexual harassment, Billy is the literal worst still, horror

A/N: I’ve never tried to write anything scary before so I hope that aspect of this chapter really shows! If you like this story, please let me know! Also, if you’re looking for an earlier part you can find that here. In other news, I had to publish a bit later due to technical difficulties so please send your love!

~*~*~*~

“Another book already?” Steve asked as Annie got in his car.

She shrugged, “Yeah… I only had a little over a hundred pages left so I kinda went for it.”

“I think that’s gonna take you a bit more time to get through,” he said, glancing over at her as he pulled out of her driveway.

“It’d also take a bit more effort for some asshole to rip it apart.”

“Ah, you got me there.”

Annie laughed a bit, “It’s whatever. I’ve been meaning to read this for a while now. Like, my dad’s this big, fancy literature professor. He said War and Peace was the biggest waste of time and space, so I’m gonna see if he’s right or if he’s full of shit as usual.”

“So you’re reading out of spite?” he asked, furrowing his brows, “Is he gonna say anything?”

She fidgeted with the corner of the hardcover book, “Well, I’m not sure he’s ever gonna know. He kinda stayed in New York. I haven’t seen him in… almost a month I think.”

“Oh.”

Annie shrugged, “It’s not a huge deal, my mom and I are figuring it out.”

The rest of the car ride was filled with a rather awkward silence. Maybe if she hadn’t said anything about her family, the remainder of the ride would have been better. At the same time, there were more awkward things she could have easily brought up, but didn’t.

Soon enough, Steve pulled into a parking spot at the school. Annie thanked him before getting out and going off to the school. Maybe it was abrupt, but she didn’t think Steve wanted to talk to her too much.

Not that she took that too personally, he had plenty of issues of his own. Then again, so did she. That was evidenced by the lack of makeup on her face and the clothes she wore. After all, flipping up overalls was impossible. With a flannel and shirt on top of all that, she was sure she would be fine today. Maybe all the rumors stopped overnight and there was something else going on.

However, as Annie walked, she could hear the whispers still. Just like yesterday. She carefully dodged a couple guys in the hall as she went to her locker. If she just laid low, it would blow over. It had to blow over at some point. Then she saw her locker.

"PROPERTY OF MISTRESS ANNETTE HARDWICK, A COCKSUCKING SLUT" was scrawled sloppily on the locker. Her eyes widened and immediately she rushed up to it, trying to rub it off with the sleeve of her flannel. When none of the black sharpie came off onto her dark green sleeves, she clenched the grip on her book. This simply wasn't happening.

A part of her wanted to curl up and cry right then. Everyone was staring and she could feel the eyes boring into her back. She bit the inside of her cheek to the point it almost drew blood.

"I don't think that's gonna come out, real shame," said a voice belonging to Billy Hargrove.

Annie crossed her arms, "Go fuck yourself."

"Shouldn't you be doing that for me?" he asked, leaning in close.

She swallowed hard and backed up before turning and walking off. It had to have been him. The way he looked at her made her wish she could have turned invisible. Why hadn't she said something? There had to have been some biting remark she could have given, but nothing came out. Soon enough, she found herself sitting under a stairwell.

A moment later, Steve ducked under. It was clear he was more cramped in the space than Annie was.

He crouched down next to her, "Hey, Annie, I'm so, so sorry-"

"It's not your fault," she said, staring at the white linoleum.

Steve sighed, "But isn't it? Look, I can try and help you paint over it or something or request another locker. I just... I'm sorry."

"You don't have to do any of that. I'll just get through today and maybe everyone can find someone else to poke fun at over the weekend," she replied.

"Hey, just take the help, okay? And maybe I can rip that Hargrove guy a new one for your trouble."

She let out a small laugh, "I'd love to see that, but I can take care of myself."

"I'll do it, can't have some asshole picking on my friend," he said right before the bell rang, "But seriously, are you sure you can hack it today? I can take you home or something and I can try to clear everything up."

Annie nodded, moving to get up, "I can take it, okay?"

At least, that was what she thought as she went to biology. It was just a few hours and then she was free for a whole weekend. Surely she could get through the knots in her stomach for the day.

Nothing let up, though. A few notes asking her if King Steve could still "get it" was the tipping point for her. Maybe no one touched her today, but the notes managed to hold the exact same sentiment. It made her want to run and wash her face despite the fact nothing was on it.

Having decided to then blow off the remainder of the day, she slipped a note into Steve's locker so he knew she went home. Maybe he cared, maybe he didn't. She wasn't really sure. That didn't stop her from shoving her headphones from her Walkman on and turning up the music all the way as she left the school.

The walk home was rather uneventful, and before she knew it she was right back in her house. A part of her was tempted to reach over to the phone and call up her mom. Except, she was probably doing important work at the conference she was at and Annie stopped herself. Although, this felt like the sort of emergency her mom said to warn her about.

Then again, so did the illusions she kept seeing. They only seemed to get worse with every passing day. It wasn't like she could tell anyone, though. Had she told someone like Steve or a teacher, she would be written off as crazy.

Maybe that was it, she was just going crazy from the loneliness. When her mom got back, it would all be fine. Sure, she had Erik, but he hardly counted as a conversationalist. She dropped her backpack and flopped on the couch with a sigh. A whole day left in front of her and nothing to do for it. It wasn't long before Annie got to her bag and dug through for her copy of War and Peace.

There wasn't much else for her to do other than to get lost in the story of a few Russian families going through trials and tribulations as Napoleon threatened to invade their country in the backdrop. So she found herself getting wrapped up in the beginning of the story. Though, with how comfortable she was in the position she was laying in, she soon drifted off with the book in her hands.

How long she had slept for was beyond her. It felt like something was moving on top of her. She slowly opened her eyes, expecting to see it was her cat, sprawled across her stomach. Instead there were all kinds of slimy creatures crawling on her. They almost looked like slugs but they had hind legs. For a moment, all Annie could do was stare. Then she realized they were all over her arms and her hands and legs and on her face.

The slime was all over her hands and she felt one on her mouth. She was quick to try and slap it off only to realize the whole living room was covered with the same creatures.

"This isn't real. This isn't real. This can't be happening," she repeated, her voice cracking before she started screaming.

Her screams echoed throughout the house and it felt like her throat was being scratched raw. Annie shut her eyes tightly, wishing they would just go as she screamed. And just like that, nothing. When her eyes opened, there was nothing on her. Instead there was a rapid knocking at the front door and the sound of it opening.

On instinct, she grabbed her book and hurled it at the tall figure that rushed into the room. There was a sound of the novel colliding with someone and then hitting the floor. Upon realizing who ran in, Annie put her hands over her mouth.

"Ope!" Steve exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder that had gotten hit, “What the hell was that for?”

Annie got up from the couch and rushed over to him, "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't... I didn't realize it was you. I mean, you kinda broke into my house."

"Um yeah 'cause you were screaming bloody murder," he said before looking at her, "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" Annie asked, knowing she wasn't covered in the slime she had to have imagined.

He pointed at her nose, "You're bleeding."

"Oh... shit, I'll um... be right back," she replied before going to the bathroom.

Sure enough, there was a bit of blood coming from her nose. She grabbed a couple squares of toilet paper to clean it. For some reason it wasn't bleeding anymore. She mentally cursed herself, sure that Steve was going to want to know what happened.

Annie walked back out, "Sorry about that... kinda had a bad dream or something. Um what's up?"

"Or something... are you sure you're not gonna tell me what's got you freaked out enough to hurl the biggest book I've ever seen right at me?" he asked, still rubbing at his shoulder, “You’ve got a good arm.”

She shook her head, "It doesn't matter, like I said, it’s just a bad dream. What do you need?"

"Well, I didn't tear Hargrove a new one, that's for sure," he muttered, sitting on the love seat, "I know I've kinda asked a lot from you already, but... I need to get Nancy back."

Annie raised her brows, "Ah... hey, do you want some tea or something?"

"Um sure," he said, "Look, I already heard she's running around with Jonathan. I love her too much to just let her go like that, and they guys won’t stop giving me shit for it."

She nodded, listening as she put water in the kettle and put it over a burner, "Well, for all you know it's not what you think. I mean, look at us. Speaking of us, what the hell was with the mistress shit on my locker?"

"Oh that... they think they're being clever. You know, King Steve, they call Nancy a princess, that stuff."

"So I’m the Anne Boleyn to your Henry VIII... Christ that's fucked up," she murmured before shaking her head, "Anyways, do you know what you wanna do?"

He sighed, "I'm probably gonna just do the usual: flowers, an apology, the works. If that doesn't work, I don't know what will."

"Hold up, why do you have to apologize?" she asked, grabbing a couple mugs and finding some chamomile tea.

Steve shrugged, messing with the zipper of his grey bomber jacket, "I don't know, 'cause I called her bullshit while I was sober? It doesn't matter. You've just been really helpful so far, and I know it's a lot, but I just want you to help me out a bit here."

There was a long pause as Annie thought about it. If Nancy really didn't love Steve, wouldn't that just hurt him more when she rejected him? Or even worse, what if she just got back with him despite not having feelings for Steve? No, she didn't know the guy super well, but he had already been so kind to her. All the same, Annie had a good feeling that Steve was going to do this with or without her help.

She sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter, "Alright, fine. I'll help you out with all this."

"You're the best!" Steve replied, grinning, "You know, I think this might just work. She really likes red roses, they're her favorite, actually."

A little while later, they were both sitting in the living room, drinking tea. Granted, Steve probably didn't need it, but she would have felt awkward trying to calm down by drinking tea while Steve just sat there. Besides, there was no reason to rush going anywhere since he came over around lunchtime. If they jumped the gun, who knew where Nancy would have been. Though, what really seemed to grind Steve's gears was that Nancy ditched with Jonathan. Something that had to have been a point of contention in the past. Not that she had any idea.

It wasn't her place to ask. She figured that Steve would talk and open up about things when he felt it was a good time. Asking pressing questions wasn't going to do her any good.

"So... are we gonna talk about your… um... episode?" Steve asked, breaking the silence.

Annie swallowed some of her tea, "What about it? I had a nightmare."

"You threw a book at me. If you had a nightmare that seemed real... that's not good," he said, running a hand through his hair, "Look, I uh... if you need to talk to someone, I kinda get it."

She arched a brow, "How could you get it?"

"Uh... it's not important. Just, you've already done a lot for me, you can talk to me, okay?"

"It's um... so it's this recurring nightmare," she started, staring at her almost empty mug, "I'm in the house and the power kicks off and then things get weird. Like, one time there were vines everywhere and it was all cold and slimy. It looked like it was snowing. And um... well, the one I just woke up from I was covered in these slugs? But they weren't slugs, they had legs and they were crawling all over me and um... yeah."

Steve set his cup on the table, "Annie... are these things actually just you in your sleep?"

"Uh... um yeah, of course," she lied, "I'm probably just stressed being alone all the time."

He sighed, licking his lips, "You're absolutely sure? You're not seeing this stuff while you're awake?"

"Well... no... but um, but what if I did?" she asked, starting to grip her mug tightly.

How did he know she was seeing things? This had to be some elaborate prank. Or maybe the house really was haunted. That stupid kid could have been right.

Steve frowned, "Then we need to get you the hell out of here. Your cat too."

She blinked and sat back in her chair a moment, "What do you mean? Why?"

"I can't tell you... not right here, we gotta get you out. Come on, you can stay over at my place, my parents are never home. You can have the guest room, I'll help you get some stuff," he said, already standing up.

Whatever it was that was going on, Annie had absolutely no idea. All she knew was that Steve seemed to have an air of tension and fear that she hadn't seen before. A part of her wanted to call his bluff and say that he was just screwing around in some super technical and sadistic prank. However, as they rushed to get her things together, she started to realize he was being serious. Which made everything she had dealt with the last few days all the more worrying. If she wasn't hallucinating, then what was going on?

What were those things that crawled all over her? She wanted to ask Steve, but he was busy helping get her cat so they could get out faster. Before she could comprehend any part of what was happening, they were in Steve's BMW. Erik meowed periodically as Steve sped off.

He sighed, obviously trying to not appear more freaked out than he was, "Look, I... I don’t know if I can explain all this to you without getting us both killed... fuck I thought we figured this out already."

"What're you even talking about? I'm playing along with all this, but I really need you to explain everything," she said, clutching her fidgety cat close to her chest.

Steve shook his head, soon pulling up to his house, "We don't have much time for that. Come on, let's get your stuff inside."

"Um... are we gonna still try and get you back with Nancy?"

"What? No, we don't have time for that!" he exclaimed, getting out of the car, "Wait, she might know what to do, actually."

Annie rolled her eyes, "Then get the damn flowers, apologize, get back in her good graces or whatever, and try to figure out what the hell's going on!"

"Will you chill out? I'm trying to put all this together!" Steve exclaimed, "Sorry... I know this is probably really stressful for you."

She huffed, setting a dufflebag and then Erik down before shrugging off her backpack, "You know, it might be the tiniest bit less stressful for me if you would tell me what the ever-living fuck is going on! I tell you I'm seeing stuff that’s apparently real and you tell me to get out of my house without telling me why! Now are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Fine, fine, you're right. I just don't know how to explain it quickly. But all you need to know is there's another dimension and there's people-eating monsters in it and your house was flip-flopping back and forth for whatever reason… at least, I think that’s what you were talking about. That's really dangerous, but we'll figure it out," he said, going to put a hand on her shoulder, "And um... you can't tell anyone else otherwise the government's gonna kill you and your parents and your cat and anyone else you care about."

Annie stepped back, crossing her arms, "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're joking. That doesn't even make any sense! Do you realize how little sense that makes?"

"I know... but if you didn't believe me then why did you let me do this?"

"Um... I... fine, maybe there's something to all this. Let's get the fucking flowers."

Perhaps Steve had a point, she did kind of believe him. Mainly because it was the only explanation, albeit convoluted, to all the things happening in her house that didn't make her seem crazy. He seemed concerned enough for her and for himself for saying all the things he had. They made a quick stop at the grocery store so Steve could pick up the roses. After that, Steve pulled up to what she assumed was Nancy's house.

She gave him a small, assuring smile, "You've got this. Make up with your girlfriend and we'll go from there."

"Yeah. I can do this," he said, getting out of the car and closing the door behind him.

Now Annie was rooting for him more than she originally had. Mainly out of hope that Steve was right in assuming Nancy would know what to do. However, as she watched, she watched their plan grind to a halt thanks to some kid.

Tag List (let me know if you would like to join): @dungeons-and-demodogs​ @jxnehxpper​ @ilovebucketbarnes

[canvas-the-florist]

Kat and Ann

Warnings: Bullying, transphobia mention, swearing, abuse mention, food mention, kidnapping

Summary: Kat never felt like an individual as she grew up until she made a friend.

Word Count: 2737

Kat was thirteen when she changed her name. Not that it mattered, everyone called her by her last name just like her ten other siblings. It wasn’t a big deal, and Kat was fine with that, it made it easier to transition too. Who could make fun of you for being the trans kid when several of your siblings were as well? She wasn’t singled out. Wasn’t much of an individual either. Kat went to school, studied, and got average grades. Most of the time, at least. She loved her family! Kat wasn’t close with all of her siblings, sometimes lost count of how many there were, but she appreciated them overall. So, why did she always feel so lonely?

When she was fourteen she stopped someone from beating up a kid on the ground after school. He was scrambling for all of his stuff and she sat next to him to help. “Hi, I’m Kat!”

“Oh, um, I’m Anthony.” Kat examined his face. There were two identical large scars coming up from his cheeks. “Thanks, for standing up for me! No one’s ever done that before, not even my brother.”

She helped him up and threw him his stuff. He mostly just looked nervous, scratching his face. Kat didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable or anything so she flashed a quick smile. “Well if your brother won’t help I will! That’s what my siblings would do at least… Do you need to go home now?”

Anthony made a grimace, wrinkling his nose. “Not particularly. I don’t think anyone will notice. I live close by anyway. Don’t need a carriage or something to take me there.”

“I live close by too!” Kat exclaimed. She considered all the possibilities. Anthony hadn’t mentioned any of the other Katabazi’s and so far it seemed like they could be friends. Maybe this would be nice? “That means it’s official. We need to check if we can walk home together.”

“Won’t your siblings mind?” Anthony asked, and Kat let out a loud sigh (mostly in disappointment) after he finished talking. “Oh, are you not a Katabazi sibling? Sorry I just assumed with the blue crystal necklace and- I shouldn’t have assumed that was rude of-”

“Dude, it’s fine.” Kat gave a smile. Her hand went up to the necklace. It probably was a big giveaway but it was also important to her. A shard of good luck charm passed down through her family. It used to be her grandmother’s. The original was hung up on a wall, but it was still significant.“I’m a Katabazi but now you know my first name so let’s stick with that, alright? Or should I call you… Ann or Tony?”

Anthony let out a laugh, as they both walked through the small trail through the woods. “Honestly I wouldn’t mind Ann. Anything’s better than Tony. It sounds like I’m interested in attending galas or exploiting the working class. No thank you.”

“Okay, Ann! No galas or exploitation for you~!”

-

    Kat and Ann kept walking through the woods to get to and from school once they realized they lived close to each other. It was fun to have someone to kick pebbles with or avoid fairy circles with. Eventually the leaves started falling and Kat put on a long jacket, with her necklace underneath it. On a walk home, Kat was balancing on an old wall covered in moss, Ann was walking along next to her, dragging his feet. “Hey, Kat?”

    “Yeah?” They both stopped walking. 

Ann gulped. “You’re a girl, right? My brother says you’re not and well, he’s usually wrong. Is he just… Being a dick? Or have I just been misgendering you?”

Kat’s arms dropped. Well, that’s one way to come out. She sniffled, but wouldn’t back down. “I’m a girl. Excuse me for saying but your brother is an idiot for being like that.”

“Okay, that’s what I thought.” The two kept walking but Kat still felt like she wanted to cry. The leaves blew past them, picking up Ann’s hat. Kat caught it and looked at Ann. He looked like he wanted to cry too. “Kat I’m glad we’re friends. My brother doesn’t understand human decency but he still got into my head. That was my mistake. I won’t doubt you about that stuff ever again!”

There was a pause as the wind picked up. Kat stared him down with a squint before putting his hat back over his curly blonde hair. “Good! Because your brother doesn’t decide how the world works. We do.”

“Both of us? We aren’t gods or anything.”

Kat shrugged. “How do you know? I mean cursed people do exist, who’s to say their magic is the only kind out there?”

Ann shifted uncomfortably, covering it with a laugh. “Yeah! We can be gods if we want to! Fuck nature! Fuck stupid brothers! AAAAAHH!” He held up both his hands and yelled to the sky. Kat laughed loudly before joining with a scream of her own. The two continued screaming, seeing the birds flee from the trees and the wind grew louder, like nature itself trying to drown them out.

The yelling devolved into laughing, they both fell to the wall for support. The wind died down and they were both sitting on the wall silently. Every once and a while they would shake the leaves from their wool clothing and go back to watching the scenery of nature. Ann took a deep breath. “I think my brother hates me for being cursed.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kat asked, looking at him. He shrugged.

“I don’t know… I mean I can’t do anything cool or bad but he’s mean about it.” He crossed his arms angrily. “And dad thinks that Garrett is the perfect child for not having headaches all the time or being slow or…” Kat put her hand on his shoulder as he wiped his eyes. “I just don’t understand. I try so hard not to let the curse control my life but I can’t help it! But sometimes I go into his dreams and he got mad at me about it.”

“Well, your brother doesn’t deserve you! I would love to have a brother like you! You’re nice and you don’t just assume what I’m like based on my family. It’s nice! YOU’RE nice.”

“You want me to be your brother? Is that a thing that can happen?”

Kat shrugged once more, crossing her legs on the wall. “Absolutely. We’re the gods remember? Who cares if we aren’t actually related or something. That isn’t relevant anymore. We’re siblings now!”

Ann smiled. “Yeah, okay! You’re a great sister, Kat.”

“And you a great brother.”

-

It was almost spring and the rain was starting to pick up a lot. But Ann and Kat still walked through the woods. Finally seeing all the frogs and slugs they desired. Ann convinced Kat that climbing the wall in the rain was a very bad idea and he didn’t want his only sister to die young. Because he would get arrested for her death. Kat couldn’t argue with that, even if she thought he could get away with her murder.

The day after that Kat didn’t see Ann in the forest. And for the first time in a while, she walked through the woods alone. It didn’t usually make her scared to be there alone, but after getting used to a person to talk to, she felt unnerved. The next day Ann was there looking sad. He brushed it off in the morning but after passing the wall on the way home, Kat stopped and sat. Signaling that they needed to talk about something. Ann sat down, without looking at her.

    “Ann. You don’t need to tell me what’s up, but, do you… want to talk about it?” Ann didn’t make eye contact with her, but Kat could see tears brimming his eyes. “Ann?”

That made him start sobbing and his head fell into her lap. His hands were gripping the sleeves of her hoodie and she let him cry it out and the sprinkling off the rain started. She didn’t say anything and let him cry. Eventually he sat back up with bloodshot eyes, and Kat opened up her arms so he could get a hug. Ann accepted it.

    “Garrett ran away from home today. I don’t know why and my dad blamed me for it. Because I hang out with you. I tried to defend you because you’re my friend, my sister even, and…” He trailed off and hid his face in Kat’s shoulder. She tightened the hug, trying not to feel guilty for being brought into it. Kat assumed the worst but didn’t bring any of it work. “I don’t want to go home either. I think Garrett was right to leave. Even if he’s a jerk.”

    “My parents would understand if you needed to come to my house.” She offered.

    They stopped hugging to face each other. Ann wiped his face as more tears fell, he started laughing. The rain was coming down harder, he was openingly sobbing and crying through it all. Kat started laughing too. It was horrible surviving the weather, but they were doing it together so it was fine.

“That’d be great, I think.” They held their arms around each other’s shoulders running out of the rain and into Kat’s home. And it was fine. Kat’s siblings fussed over the two of them getting mud in the house and possibly getting sick. One of her older brothers was a little concerned about the crying white kid in the house but didn’t say anything. Kat had mentioned a new friend that she made a while ago and that was that.

Eventually Ann had stopped visiting his father, and even later he was practically adopted by Kat’s family. Kat wouldn’t admit it, but she cried a little when her mom gave him a copy of the blue crystal good luck charm. Ann knew she did though, he was just kind enough not to mention it. 

-

    Ann had moved into Caleb’s room after he moved out. Kat and Moss’s room was across from that. He was the only cursed person in the entire house. He would be hurt easily and his stamina wasn’t very good because of it. It would worry Kat a lot. Lelise had told Kat that the curse had to be a secret but she didn’t specify why. The house became emptier as the older siblings grew up and moved out. When Nia was getting ready to move out they shared a nice dinner together.

Kat and Ann stayed behind at the end to clean up the table.

    “Hey Kat? What do you think you’ll do when you move out?”

    She looked up at him for a moment before going back to pick up the utensils. “I haven’t decided yet. Don’t really feel motivated to do anything in particular…” They went back to the silence for a moment, the only noise being the clinks of dishes gently hitting each other. Kat cleared her throat before opening a drawer. “What about you? Any fun ambitions?”

    He gave a soft smile. “I think I want to help other people. Like work through their emotions and stuff. Is there a word for that?”

    “I’m not sure, but I think you’d be great at it, Ann.” The two finished cleaning up and sat down at the table. Kat had crossed her legs on the seat while Ann had one leg up on his seat. She messed with her hair idly while looking outside. Fireflies were gently floating around peacefully. “Do you want to go on a walk through the forest? I think I have nerves to work out.”

    “What, like to our old school?” Kat gave a shrug and Ann chuckled quietly. “That sounds fun actually. Why not?”

    Ann got on his hat and Kat draped her blue cloak over her shoulders. They walked out after leaving a note behind on the newly cleaned table. The two siblings laughed together, going past the trees. Kat danced in circles as they went on their way, causing her to trip over a root and land on her back. Ann leaned down next to her.

    “Wow, klutz.”

    “Pshh, shut up, moron.” She got up, shaking the dry leaves and grass off her clothes. As she got a leaf off, Kat noticed something in the distance. “Oh shit, is that the wall?”

    Ann squinted and ran over to it, causing his sister to follow after. It was even more dilapidated than the two remembered. Moss and plants were growing in between the rocks and a lot of the wall was on the forest floor surrounding it. “I can’t believe it’s still up. This thing used to give me so much anxiety when you would balance on- Kat why are you climbing it? It’s like a century old!”

    “We’re gods, remember? I can do what I want!” She placed her hands on her hips. The cobblestone wall seemed to crumble into smaller pieces under her weight, which made Ann bite the inside of his cheek nervously. Kat rolled her eyes but moved to step off of it, not wanting to contribute to his constant worrying. “Okay, I’ll get off now.”

    She stopped when she heard people yelling deeper in the forest. Kat turned and saw a dimly lit lantern in the distance. “Who are they?” She whispered under her breath, before tripping over a rock. Ann quickly reached out his hands to stop her from falling. And she did stop, but she wasn’t being held by anything but a pink glow. Kat’s eyes widened before dropping the rest of the way. Ann quickly sat next to her on the ground as the unnatural light grew brighter. 

    “I thought you weren’t supposed to use your curse because it hurts your body?” Kat murmured. Ann was clutching his head, and didn’t respond. She peaked her head over the wall, there were three figures, only one holding a lantern. 

    “Listen there is a cursed person in that house! I’m not lying!” One yelled. Kat squinted her eyes, trying to see better in the darkness. She could barely make out rope around this person’s hands. She turned back to Ann, to tell him they had to get out of here and he was clutching his legs with a shocked expression on his face.

    Kat lightly tapped his shoulder. He looked at her and mouthed ‘That’s my brother.’ She turned back to the group and saw that they had gotten much closer than she had anticipated, making eye contact with one. A person holding a lamp and seemed to have a vacant expression, if they could ever change their face, it didn’t show. They pointed at her so she grabbed Ann’s arm and dragged him as they ran. The people gave chase.

    “That’s him! He’s the cursed one!”

    Ann let out a cry as his arm got grabbed by the cloaked, expressionless one. “Good job, Garrett. You’ll make a good recruit.” Kat looked back at them and desperately reached for Ann’s hand, as he tried to grab hers.

    “Ann!” She called out. The one holding up Garrett stepped on her hand as the other one picked up her brother off the ground. Kat grabbed her hand and helplessly watched as they disappeared. Ann had been hurt by so many people and yet he only wished to help people. Kat was never like that. She was so scared of being considered just another one of her siblings that she didn’t focus on her future. But she wanted to help Ann, or people like him. After months of searching for Ann, nothing had come up. It was like he had never existed at all. Kat gave up after a year. 

    So she decided to do something else instead. Maybe Ann was dead for being cursed. Kat went to a bigger city and trained to be stronger, without breaks. She lived with her brother Caleb and his husband Merlin until she could support herself with a brand new job. On her first day, Kat walked into the building confidently and took a breath. The man running the business gave a nod and handed her a badge.

    “Welcome, Kat Katabazi, to your first day at the Charlotte Institute.” His head tilted to the side without a smile.

[protagonistheavy]

I finished Little Witch Academia, and it was alright. I think it was underwhelming compared to the hype it got when the first special came out, but that special also set some really high standards. In a few ways I think that special hindered the series, especially with regards to what kind of story they could tell. The characters and set pieces in that special were designed for that special, and I don’t think they were able to both keep the charm of the original while also fleshing it out into a whole story.

I think what really slugs my opinion of the series is that for as whimsical as it is, it’s also really down to earth, which I guess just... clashes with my expectations. The story is largely about how magic is fading from the world, so magic is difficult to use outside the school grounds. This means that for a lot of plots, there’s a lot of whimsy missing because the characters simply can’t use magic.

And what magic they do use isn’t very interesting. Some characters have their own gimmicks on how they utilize magic but pretty much all magic we see is just flying and transformation magic. No specific parts of magic is ever really explored I felt, but rather a lot of attention was put into the resource that is magic itself and how the world of studying magic has adapted.

And that’s fine too! I think it creates an interesting theme to explore that can be levied to the real world. But unfortunately I think the series then goes a little too far in trying to capture a number of themes that they don’t combine very well. There’s topics regarding politics and protestors, advances in technology and how that affects culture, students with learning obstacles, classism and labor, social media addiction... It tries to cover a lot of ground but unfortunately all that gets in the way of each other, as well as makes the world of magic take a sorta background presence. I think they should’ve focused a bit more on just a few of these themes and making them work, rather than trying to handle them all like they did.

The animation is adorable and so are the characters, it was fun watching their adventure even though I don’t think the adventure itself was very exciting or enthralling. It would’ve been nice to see Sucy and Lotte a little more, it feels like they get pushed to the side pretty quickly outside their own episodes. I’d say in general that the “school life” aspect is pretty much missing from the show, I never felt like I was engaged with watching students learn and develop.

A fun story but nothing groundbreaking. I also want to say that Studio Trigger really repeats itself a lot, saying this as someone that recently watched BNA. A lot of similarities, and that’s after I noticed a lot of similarities between BNA and Kill la Kill... which you could probably say there’s a lot in common between KLK and Gurren Lagaan... I guess their stuff works so it’s hard to complain, but some beats in particular are just short of being copy-pasted from one story to the next.

I’d say the LWA special was way more engrossing as its own thing than the series. That one-hour special managed to capture all the charm that the series had and do so in a nice, fulfilling plot that rounds itself out. The series had to go the extreme, define the world a lot differently and stretch out plot elements that were never meant to be epics. But the series is still cute and has its own advantages, it was nice to see these characters alive and engaged with a bigger plot even if that plot was kinda boring.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust, Volume 6, Number 10

The Slugs 

September seemed to be the month when all the records on endless delay finally got kicked out the door, COVID or no, ready or not here we come. We’re deluged with music, some recorded before the world changed, some clearly cooked up mid-pandemic. There are a lot of covers EPs, lots of solo material, lots of home-made lo-fi, lots of benefit comps, and who are we to complain? Better, instead, to reach for the headphones, load up the hard drive, pile on the LPs and do some listening. Here’s some of the stuff that caught our attention, as usual ranging all over the continuum, from traditional to edgy and experimental, from silly pop punk to enraged death metal to bookish electro-acoustic improvisation. Contributors this time out included Jonathan Shaw, Patrick Masterson, Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Derek Taylor, Ray Garraty, Tim Clarke and Andrew Forell. Happy fall.

Amputation — Slaughtered in the Arms of God (Nuclear War Now!)

Slaughtered in the Arms of God by Amputation

Given the degree of smugness that accompanies utterances of the phrase “Old School Death Metal,” it’s frequently instructive to listen to some. Right on time, the misanthropic bunch at Nuclear War Now! has delivered some seriously Old School sounds to our digital doorstep. This new compilation LP gathers both of the demos of Norwegian knuckle-draggers Amputation, along with a contemporaneous rehearsal recording. Likely the resulting record will be of principal interest to fans of Immortal, the long-running, on-again-off-again Norwegian black metal band that Amputation would morph into in 1991. The songs collected on Slaughtered in the Arms of God have some additional musicological significance, as they document the sounds of 1989 and 1990, transformational years in Norway’s metal scene. Mayhem and Darkthrone tend to get most of the attention, for reasons both good and bad; and like Darkthrone, Amputation made death metal before transitioning to blacker, more brittle sounds. The music on Slaughtered in the Arms of God is muddy, thudding and thick. Perhaps that’s the result of the primitive recording tech the band used, likely of necessity. But through the murk (and to some degree because of it), you can hear the influence of Stockholm’s fecund death metal scene, especially Dismember’s earliest stuff. Scandinavia’s metal currents run deep and dark. Whether that means that Old School Death Metal is intrinsically a good thing is a different matter.

Jonathan Shaw

 Anz — Loose in Twos (NRG) 12” (Hessle Audio)

Loos In Twos (NRG) by Anz

I love the idea of listening to DJ mixes of original or all-new material; it’s probably why I still value, say, Ricardo Villalobos’ Fabric 36 so much. Manchester’s Anna Marie-Odubote, aka Anz, has been doing just such a thing annually since 2015 and really went wild with spring/summer dubs 2020, which compiled 74 tracks into nearly an hour and a half of new music. That would’ve been more than enough amid all of this (imagine me gesturing around vaguely), but “Loos in Twos (NRG)” on the venerable Hessle Audio imprint is an equally formidable, decidedly tighter release I played a lot at the start of September. Three club-ready tracks here break down acid, jungle and footwork, and while all three are heady breaks, the looped vocals and bongo of “Stepper” make it the one for me. Get those feet moving digitally now so they’re comfortable once the vinyl arrives in early October.

Patrick Masterson

 Ashes and Afterglow — Everybody Wants a Revolution (Postlude Paradox)

Ashes and Afterglow drops pop punk melodies into deep buckets of fuzz, lets them bubble and bob to the surface before shoving them under again. The band is mainly the output of one Luke Daniel, who appears to have been in other band called Sea of Orchids, but neither outfit has left much of an internet trail. And sure, this is the kind of thing that could easily get shuffled under; it breaks no moulds. And yet shuffling “To Take a Look at the World,” has a heart-worn resonance, Daniel’s voice echoing in reverbed hollow-ness against surging tides of guitar noise. “My Yesterday Girl” churns a little harder, with a bright, pop-leaning sort of hopefulness hedged in by seething feedback. It’s not bad, but it never hits a melodic vein the way that similarly inclined artists like Ted Leo or Ovlov or Tony Molina do, and it never pushes the noise over the top, either. Neither pop nor punk but somewhere in middle.

Jennifer Kelly

 Ballister — Znachki Stilyag (Aerophonic)

Znachki Stilyag by Ballister

A cake is still a cake, whether you put chocolate frosting and strawberries or white icing and a fondant roses on top. And while they don’t all taste or look exactly the same, a Ballister album is still a Ballister album, and the first Ballister album in three years does not mess with the recipe. Dave Rempis (alto and tenor saxophones), Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello and electronics), and Paal Nilssen-Love (drums and percussion) still trade in a particularly hard-hitting form of total improvisation. The changes are ones of emphasis — Lonberg-Holm sounds like he’s using a wah-wah pedal and deploys some especially slashing feedback tones, there’s a bit more space in Nilssen-Love’s intricate beat configurations, and Rempis left his baritone sax at home — and of location. Znachki Stilyag was recorded during the fall of 2019 in Moscow, Russia, which may explain why the big horn stayed at home. But the ones you hear still cut and thrust with broadsword force and rapier precision. This is a cake you can trust.

Bill Meyer  

 Vincent Chancey — The Spell: The Vincent Chancey Trio Live, 1987 (No Business) 

Vincent Chancey likely isn’t alone amongst his peers in feeling exasperated by folks singling out his instrument as uncommon or unusual to jazz. It’s a form of damning through faint praise and one that feel

s even more lackadaisical with any time spent with his music. Chancey plays the French horn and he’s plied it in settings as diverse as Sun Ra Arkestra, Lester Bowie’s Brass Fantasy and Charlie Haden’s Liberation Music Orchestra as well as gigs supporting Aretha Franklin and Elvis Costello. It’s unclear whether the trio documented on The Spell was a working concern, but that hardly matters given how well bassist Wilbur Morris and percussionist Warren Smith gel with their convener. Spread across two sides of an LP, the concert recorded at a New York City art gallery covers four pieces, two by Morris bookending one apiece from Smith and the leader that stitch together very much like cohesive suite. An unadvertised surprise comes with Smith’s ample application of marimba alongside a regular drum kit. Recording quality isn’t optimal, but Chancey’s rich, rounded, phrases gain extra gravitas through the sometimes-grainy acoustics. Woefully underrepresented in the driver’s seat discographically, his acumen as both improviser and composer is easily vindicated by this limited edition (300 copies) release.

Derek Taylor 

 Che Chen — Tokyo 17.II.2012 (self-released)

Tokyo 17.II.2012 by Che Chen

Nowadays Che Chen has earned a measure renown as the guitar-playing half of 75 Dollar Bill, and all the praise is earned. But before that, he played a roomful of instruments in the True Primes, Heresy of the Free Spirit and duos with Robbie Lee, Tetuzi Akiyama and Chie Mukai. The through-lines to all these efforts is a willingness not to play things the way their supposed to be played, and a gift for supplying the right resonance in any setting. Since 75 Dollar Bill is a New York-based band made for social occasions, the COVID-19 lay-off has been especially hard — so there’s no better time to see what’s in those hard drives in the closet, right? Chen has released this solo concert from 2012 via Bandcamp. In Tokyo for a brief layover, he played amplified violin at a party held in the basement of someone’s apartment building. The amplified part is important; dips and swells of feedback count as much as in this 25-minute performance as the fiddle’s bright, plucked notes and rough, bowed tones. Chen moves purposefully from one mode to next, taking time along the way to savor the room’s lively acoustics.

Bill Meyer

 Jeff Cosgrove/ John Medeski/ Jeff Lederer — History Gets Ahead of the Story (Grizzley Music)

Odds are that even the estimable William Parker would be surprised by the prospect of a William Parker cover album. But that’s essentially what History Gets Ahead of the Story is as organized and realized by drummer Jeff Cosgrove. That the project is the province of an organ trio only adds to the potential consternation quotient. John Medeski officiates the Hammond B-3 console and saxophonist Jeff Lederer, doubling on flute, completes the combo convened by Cosgrove. The latter’s connections to Parker stem from a trio he was part of with the bassist/composer and pianist Matthew Shipp that disbanded in 2015 after fruitful collaboration. Parker’s personage and music left an indelible mark and the seeds for the present album were sown. Collective creative license doesn’t get in the way of soulful, energizing renderings of such staples as “O’Neal’s Porch,” “Corn Meal Dance” and “Wood Flute Songs,” but troika also cedes time for a triptych of strong originals that align aurally with their dedicatee’s inclusive tone world sensibilities.

Derek Taylor   

 Derelenismo Occulere — Inexorable Revelación (Le Legione Projets)

Inexorable Revelacion (FULL LENGHT 2020) by Derelenismo Occulere

This sounds like a rehearsal gone wrong. In the time of the COVID pandemic, Neo Apolion, a guy responsible for the music in this Ecuadorean duo, recorded a demo and sent it to the band’s vocalist Malduchryst with a message to do with it whatever he wants. Malduchryst took his band partner’s words all too literally. With complete disregard to the music he began vomiting a noisy, messy mass of screams to a microphone (has he never heard of a black metal with no vocals?). If it sounds totally batshit, you can rest assured that it is. This is what makes Inexorable Revelación actually great black metal. When a lot of metal bands these days are just Backstreet Boys with leather jackets on and with guitars, Derelenismo Occulere care about only fury and mayhem. Their Argentinean mix man Ignacio only adds more chaos to the album. The only flaw this tape has is that it is 15 minutes too long.

Ray Garraty  

 Whit Dickey — Morph (ESP-Disk)

Morph by Whit Dickey

Drummer Whit Dickey and pianist Matthew Shipp have been recurrent partners since the early 1990s, when they were both members of the David S. Ware Quartet. It’s fair to say that each man is a known quantity to the other, and that one of the things they know about each other is that they might still be surprised by the other’s playing. Dickey’s retreated from time to time in order to revise his approach, and while Shipp has often threatened to quit recording over the years, he has never stopped working or evolving. This double disc combines one duo CD and another that adds trumpeter Nate Wooley to the pair. Wooley’s done a number of dates with Shipp in recent times, but he and Dickey were musical strangers before they entered Park West Studios in March 2019. Without Wooley, Shipp and Dickey seem very free and trusting of each other, transitioning with dreamlike ease from abstracted gospel to sideways swing to restless co-rumination this the ease. The trio seems more considered. The trumpeter dips quite sparingly into his extended technique bag, favoring instead linear statements that instigate fleet perambulations from the pianist and more supportive, less overtly dialogic contributions from the drummer. Both sessions work, and their differences complement each other quite handily.

Bill Meyer

 Dropdead — S/T (Armageddon)

Dropdead 2020 by Dropdead

Yep, it’s that Dropdead, the Providence-based powerviolence band that hasn’t released a proper LP since 1998 and was on a long hiatus through much of the 21st century. Since 2011, Dropdead has put out a string of splits, with heavyweights like Converge and Brainoil. But a whole record? Maybe the unrelentingly shitty condition of our political and economic conjuncture motivated the four guys in the band (three of whom have been affiliated with Dropdead since 1991) to write the 23 burners, rants and breakdown-heavy hardcore tunes you’ll hear across Dropdead’s 25 minutes. It’s a welcome addition. Bob Otis’s voice doesn’t have the shredding quality of days of yore — but that ends up being useful. You can hear the lyrics, and they’re drenched in venom and righteousness. The rest of the band hasn’t lost a step. Pretty impressive for a bunch of guys with that much grey in their beards. That said, they don’t pull any intergenerational, “we’re-older-and-wiser” moves. This is still music that wants to collapse boundaries, between stage and mosh pit, between races and genders, between species, even. Not so much class positions: “Warfare State,” “United States of Corruption,” “Will You Fight?” Late capitalism’s depredations still bear the principal brunt of the band’s anger. Things have gotten worse, and Dropdead respond in kind. They may be a lot older, but they’re even more pissed off.

Jonathan Shaw

 Fake Laugh — Waltz (State 51 Conspiracy)

Earlier this year, Kamran Khan released his second Fake Laugh album, the charming, playful Dining Alone, which made its way into Dusted’s mid-year round-up of favorites released in the first half of 2020. Khan’s third album, Waltz, is a very different beast, featuring just piano, vocals and the odd keyboard texture, casting his songwriting in sharp relief. Undoubtedly created in this stripped-down way out of lockdown necessity, it’s hard to listen to these wistful, melancholic songs without imagining where Khan’s knack for colorful arrangements might take them, given the chance. (As a tease, closing song “Amhurst” offers up a shimmering electronic melody and some sighing synth chords.) There’s no doubting Khan’s way with a tune, and his naked vocal, though occasionally showing strain, suits the mood. It’s understated and undeniably lovely, yet Waltz feels like a minor release for this talented artist.

Tim Clarke

 David Grubbs / Taku Unami — Comet Meta (Blue Chopsticks)

Comet Meta by David Grubbs & Taku Unami

In the 23 years since Gastr Del Sol fell apart, David Grubbs has done many things that don’t sound much like his old band with Jim O’Rourke. And Taku Unami has worked in such varied settings and ways that the most persistent quality of his engagement with sound is its ability to induce question marks and ellipses in any train of thought intending to decode it. So, it’s both remarkable and delightful that this record, the duo’s second collaboration, sounds rather like parts of Gastr Del Sol’s Upgrade & Afterlife. The foundation rests upon the way two guys who can and do play intricate guitar duets make subtle use of other elements — creeping acoustic piano, humming synthesizer, urban field recordings — to make music that thickens atmosphere and accumulates mystery with such subtlety that you don’t notice it until you’re in it.

Bill Meyer  

 Guided by Voices — Mirrored Aztec (Guided by Voices Inc.)

I know, I know, it’s another Guided by Voices record, the fifth since 2019, but hear me out. Pollard is still tapped into the fuzzy, rackety, melodic sap of the rock and roll universe, and he has only to knock his hammer a few times against the gnarled tree of life to extract more of what sustains us. Shorter version: he can do this all day, every day, without any noticeable let-up in quality. So, let us celebrate another batch of Who-like power chords, of rumbling drums and monumental bass thuds, of melodies that curve out delicately like spring’s first vines, then thicken into thundering climaxes and triumphant refrains. Let us give thanks again for inscrutable lyrics that drift off into poetry then pull back in the most ordinary artifacts of the spoken word. “I Think I Had It. I Think I Have It,” crows Pollard in a voice that has been blasted by time but come out more or less intact, and yes, Bob, you still do.

Jennifer Kelly

  Edu Haubensak & Tomas Korber — Works for Guitar & Percussion (Ezz-thetics)

The celebrated Wandelweiser aesthetic serves as a loose overarching impetus for the four interpretations of compositions by Edu Haubensak and Tomas Korber that comprise Works for Guitar & Percussion. Classical guitarist Christian Buck and improvising percussionist Christian Wolfarth ply their instruments through pairing and isolation. Essayist Andy Hamilton describes context by delineating a distinction between music (based in the language of tones) and soundart (which is non-tonal) and placing the duo’s interpretations in the opaque border between these realms. Repetition and timbral disparity frame Haubensak’s “On” while Korber’s “Aufhebung” applies scrutiny to microtonal diversity and temporal impermanence. Wolfarth fields Korber’s “Weniger Weiss” from behind snare drum, trading recurring stick rolls with varying segments of silence that compel ears accustomed to Western musical structures to consciously fill in the blanks. Haubensak’s solo “Refugium” finds Buck bending two closely tuned strings in an extrapolation of an Arabic maqam that feels tenuously connected to the form, at best.

Derek Taylor 

 Inseclude — Inseclude (Inseclude)

Brad MacAllister of CTRL and Blue Images and Benjamin Londa of Exit have been working in the darkwave and chillwave scenes for several years and their first album as Inseclude is a long distance collaboration that mines the darker side of 1980s alternative and electronic rock. From Pennsylvania, MacAllister sent musical ideas to Londa in Texas who added guitars, lyrics and vocals to produce a set of songs that are well made and enjoyable if largely unmemorable. There are a number of contemporary bands doing similar things — Hamilton’s Capitol and Manchester’s Ist spring immediately to mind — taking the Cure, New Order, Sisters of Mercy template and why not? Unfortunately, the passage of time and the law of diminishing returns have led to overfamiliarity with this style of music that makes for easy and perhaps unfair comparisons. When they stretch themselves, Inseclude’s songs do hit. “Sondera” and “Failing To The Pulse” carry some real menace with the juxtaposition of wide-angle synths and paranoid vocals but elsewhere the pair seem held back by a restraint and lack of bottom end that diminish the impact of some pretty decent songs.

Andrew Forell

 Kvalia — Scholastic Dreams Of Forceful Machines (Old Boring Russia)

Схоластические Грёзы Силовых Машин by Квалиа

Krasnoyarsk sits on the banks of the Yenisei river in southern Siberia and is known both for the natural beauty of its surrounding landscape and for its primacy as an aluminum producer. Local musicians Aleksander Maznichenko and Aleksey Danilenko reflect the latter on their new five track EP Scholastic Dreams Of Forceful Machines, an icy, metallic collection of post-industrial clang pitched somewhere between Einstürzende Neubauten and early Clock DVA. Their machines are forceful but cranky, rusted, near obsolete. Maznichenko keeps the thrum of turbines is steady but the drum machines lurch and thump, the keyboards whine and scream, the Russian vocals protest their obstreperous charges. Danilenko’s bass is post-punk elastic skipping amongst the raining sparks hinting at a will to dance with his mutant riffs. They sound like they mean it and the result is a terrific EP full of fire, fumes, steam and sweat.

Andrew Forell  

 Mezzanine Swimmers — Kneelin’ on a Knife (Already Dead)

Kneelin' on a Knife by Mezzanine Swimmers

These songs circle around noise-crusted, repetitive beats, the drumming stiff and mechanical, the riffs chopped to short bursts, the vocals woozy and distended. “Sexy Apology” reiterates a three-note keyboard lick ad infinitum, as main Swimmer Mike Smith drawls the title phrase, similarly on repeat. Yet within this unchanging structure, chaos erupts in detuned keyboards, miasmic feedback and corrosive noise. It’s hard to say whether these songs are too tightly organized or too loose, a bit of both really, and yet, get past the headachy thud and there’s an unhinged psychotropic transport. No one ever said that kneeling on knives would be comfortable.

Jennifer Kelly

 Mosca — The Optics (Rent)

Mosca · The Optics [RENT001]

Part of the initial wave of neon-infused dubstep hedonism surrounding the Night Slugs camp at the turn of the last decade, Mosca’s Tom Reid has since survived on the strength of a regular slot behind the decks at NTS and sparingly deployed releases on such renowned labels as Numbers, Rinse, Hypercolour and Livity Sound. “The Optics” debuts his new Rent imprint, conceived as a way to get out music that doesn’t fit in elsewhere. (Originally, this was to be an a-side for a coming AD93 release, but as he says, “There's only so long you can keep a track with a baby crying in it back from the masses.”) Supposedly inspired by the Under the Skin beach scene, the five-minute track immediately throws you off with a dub-heavy shuffle and metallic, alien sounds that zoom around the mix. The main thrust of the melody arrives around a minute in, and gradually the sounds close in on you. There’s bells, birds, a baby crying and then, just when you’re feeling completely stressed out, it all falls away; a driving jungle rhythm carries you the rest of the way. Deeply satisfying dance from a head who hasn’t lost his way.

Patrick Masterson  

 Prana Crafter/ragenap — No Ear to Hear (Centripetal Force Studio/Cardinal Fuzz)

No Ear to Hear by Prana Crafter / ragenap

When Robert Hunter, the poet who wrote lyrics for the Grateful Dead’s “Dark Star,” “Ripple,” “Truckin’,” “Terrapin Station” and many other songs, died in late 2019, long form psych musicians Prana Crafter (William Sol) and ragenap (Joel Berk) mourned separately but simultaneously. The night he died, both took solace in improvised music, which didn’t so much evoke or represent Hunter, but captured some of their feelings about his work and their loss. When they talked, soon after, they found that both had made lengthy open-ended meditations on the same person. Those two extended pieces make up No Ear to Hear. Prana Crafter’s entry, “Beggar’s Tomb,” is weighted and slow moving, building gradually from simmering drones into towering edifices of feedback and dissonance. Although performed largely on guitar, the sound is filtered through gleaming effects and layers into astral strangeness, a mystic’s trip through mental interiors. ragenap’s “Nightfall” also takes shape slowly out of looming sustained notes and black velvet quiet and sounds that scratch and vibrate at the edges. A solitary acoustic guitar takes up space at the forefront finally, carving a hesitant melody across the hum. The tune turns fuller and more agitated as it progresses, adding layers of feedback and distortion. Neither of these pieces sounds much like the Grateful Dead, and of course, neither has any sort of lyrics. I doubt that anyone, hearing this album for the first time would say, “Oh yeah, Robert Hunter.” And yet inspiration works in strange and, in this case, fruitful ways. You can enjoy this even if you don’t like the Dead.

Jennifer Kelly

 Raven Throne — Viartannie (Chroniki Źmiainaj Ciemry) (self-released)

Viartannie (Chroniki Źmiainaj Ciemry) /The Return (The Chronicles of the Serpent Darkness) by RAVEN THRONE

These Belorussian black metal veterans are true materialists. On their seventh album, they show that nature is a social construct, not something given. And boy, their nature is not a loving mother. Unlike many metal bands convey nature via field recordings, Raven Throne craft their ferocious sounds with guitars and drums. Aren’t these as natural instruments as stone and wooden sticks? The atmospheric black metal subgenre has been contaminated by pop and folksy metal so that it’s hard to maintain a truly evil sound, while still bringing the atmospheric elements into it. Raven Throne pull it off. This is how darkness should sound.

Ray Garraty  

 The Slugs — Don’t Touch Me I’m Too Slimy (2214099 Records DK)

Don't Touch Me, I'm Too Slimy by The Slugs

The Slugs are an exuberantly lo-fi punk pop duo out of London who bash and thump and shout short, acidic ditties about being female, in a band, under assault and under the weather. Liberty Hodes, who is also one half of the comedy duo A Comedy Night that Passes the Bechdel Test, plays a jangling, forceful electric guitar, while her Phoebe Dighton-Brown bangs away in brutal simplicity on the drums. Both sing, sometimes in unison, sometimes in rough harmonies, occasionally in slashing counterparts. (One chants “Feel sick/can’t be sick” while the other rolls out mellifluous “ah-ah-ah-ahs” in “Feel Sick.”) There is a charming, unstudied quality to their music, which is a bit too smart and biting to be primitive, but nonetheless eschews frills. It’s hard to pick favorites—the whole EP is over in five tracks and 11 minutes—but “Pest” is giddy fun, with its slouching, battering guitar-drum motif and slacker choruses. The shout along chorus of “Don’t touch me! I’m too slimy!” is the best thing on the record, hitting a rebellious, unwashed spot of resonance in the work-from-home era. Second best, the gleeful tirade about sleazy male promoters in “Girly Gang” (“Give you all the gigs if you touch my wang”), which builds in round-singing euphorias until it ends suddenly and a la Jane Austen in matrimony (“Married in a dress by Vera Wang”). People are comparing the Slugs to the Shaggs, but that’s just short-hand for banging away anyway without all the training. The Slugs are smarter, slyer and more autonomous, and if they sound a little rough, that’s exactly how they meant to sound.

Jennifer Kelly

Tobin Sprout — Empty Horses (Fire)

Empty Horses by Tobin Sprout

Blessed with one of the finest names in music (alongside dEUS’s Klaas Janzoons), Tobin Sprout is best known for being part of the Guided by Voices line-up that created classic albums such as Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes in the 1990s. Though Sprout’s subsequent solo output has been a steady stream compared to Robert Pollard’s deluge, Empty Horses is his eighth solo album. In it, the now-65-year-old ruminates faith, mortality and American history atop a spare, country-tinged backing. There’s a deep ache to many of these songs, the kind of emotional weight that manifests in pointedly low tempos, sparse drum parts that hang behind the beat and vocal performances that are almost uncomfortably intimate. Running to a succinct half-hour, with many of the songs clocking in at just a couple of minutes each, Empty Horses confronts demons seemingly too pernicious to overcome. Yet, when the music becomes more expansive — such as the graceful pedal steel of “Breaking Down,” the woozy modulation of “Antietam,” or the biting fuzztone of “All In My Sleep” — Sprout sounds like he may be on the verge of making a much-needed breakthrough.

Tim Clarke  

 Son Lux — Tomorrows I (City Slang)

Tomorrows I by Son Lux

Son Lux’s songs embed unsettling sounds in deep wells of silence, finding disturbing textures in string sounds, electronics, percussion and the fluttering soul falsetto of founder Ryan Lott. Tomorrows I, reportedly the first of three related albums, has a quietly dystopian vibe and a moist, echoing unease that might remind of you Burial’s classic Untrue. A brief, looped, keening violin motif punctures the opening cut, “Plans We Made” with all the threat of Bernhard Hermann’s shower music for the film Psycho, while Lott trills haunted phrases about being afraid to let go. “Undertow,” near the end, brings in a whole string quartet to swoon dissonantly, as a knocking beat (drummer Ian Chang) sounds like a body being dragged across the floor. “Just waiting for the undertow,” sings Lott in the dread empty spaces between, in arias of muted desolation. Minimalist and menacing and mesmerizing.

Jennifer Kelly

 Ulaan Janthina — Ulaan Janthina (Part 1) (Worstward)

Ulaan Janthina (Part I) by Ulaan Janthina

Steven R. Smith contains multitudes, and Ulaan Janthina is the latest manifestation of his mutating musical self. This release exemplifies three aspects of Smith’s practice. First, he likes to make beautiful things. Hard copies of this tape come in a custom-oriented box that contains tinted photos, shells and printed communications as well as the cassette. And he’s project-oriented. While other iterations have been devoted to an Eastern European vibe, or guitar noise or a virtual ensemble sound, Ulaan Janthina results from a decision to work primarily with the keyboards in his house. It’s a winning strategy, since his synthesizers, organ and harmonium all benefit from the grittiness of Smith’s recording methodology, and his spare playing style makes his melodies stand out quite starkly from the background atmosphere. Like the name says, this is part one of the Janthina (named for a genus of sea snail that makes its own floating platform — not a bad metaphor for the survival-oriented independent musician) venture; a second, similarly packaged cassette is pending from Smith’s Worstward imprint soon, and a future release is already planned by Soft Abuse records.

Bill Meyer

 Various Artists — Spr Blk: Liberation Jazz and Soul From the '70s and Beyond (Paxico)

Liberation Jazz and Soul by Marcus J. Moore

Author Marcus J. Moore (late of The Nation but also found everywhere from Pitchfork to WaPo) has a book on the way in October, The Butterfly Effect: How Kendrick Lamar Ignited the Soul of Black America. In advance of its release via cassette devotees Paxico, Moore cobbled together “rare and somewhat familiar” Black music from his own crates. “These are the kinds of songs I play when walking through New York City or driving through Maryland,” he says in the release. What that means for you is a two-sided mix that burns slower on the A and gets more percussion-heavy on the B. Leading off with Doug Carn’s fittingly titled “Swell Like a Ghost” and featuring jams from Willie Dale, Milton Wright, Ronald Snijders and other lesser jazz, soul and funk lights, it’s a revealing mix that will no doubt pair well with that fall reading you’re about to get going on.

Patrick Masterson 

 Vatican Shadow — Persian Pillars of the Gasoline Era (20 Buck Spin)

Persian Pillars Of The Gasoline Era by Vatican Shadow

Dominick Fernow is hugely prolific, and most folks with ears tuned to the densely churning worlds of noise and industrial music will be familiar with his abrasive, unsettling output under the Prurient moniker. Fernow’s releases as Vatican Shadow are fewer in number, and more attuned to ambient, even melodic movements and textures. That’s sort of odd, given that the Vatican Shadow records thematize and explore Fernow’s obsession with the history of the Middle East, especially post-9/11 collisions of Western military force, Islamic traditions of resistance and the tactics of terror used by both sides. Relaxing stuff, that ain’t. Consistent with the larger project’s tendencies, Persian Pillars of the Gasoline Era claims an interest in the CIA-coordinated Iranian coup (MI6 helped out, too, those imperial scamps) that deposed Mohammed Mossadeq, installed the Shah Reza Pahlavi and inaugurated some of the principal tensions that have shaped the last half-century of world history. It’s unclear how Fernow’s pulsing, shimmering, sometimes juddering synth sounds are meant to represent or otherwise engage that history. For sure, record art and song titles summon all the right semiotics, sometimes with an interesting edge. But “Taxi Journey through the Teeming Slums of Tehran” sounds more like a malfunctioning MP3 player than a taxi or a “teeming slum” (can we all be done with that phrase now?), and “Moving Secret Money” is pleasantly trance-inducing, rather than insidiously evil. Musically, it’s quite good. The packaging seems to want strike other notes. Maybe that’s the point — too many folks are too busy consuming quietist pop to bother with the grind of the political. But is this the intervention we need?  

Jonathan Shaw

[wincestisasincest]

Battle Scars

Hey everyone, a cheesy little ficlet mainly for me, but y’all can read it too, I hope other people can get something out of this as well. 

Basically, like, a universe where the Company is transported to modern day, and like, you’re helping them trying to find a way back home. You’re a modern day person and all that good stuff. Very road-trip fun. 

Trigger Warning (Self-harm)

So basically, like, a comfort story, when they find out that you have self-harm scars. 

Words: 909 (short for me) 

“I’ve got a scar twice as big as that on my elbow, brother.” 

“I know, I gave you that one.” 

“Best birthday gift I ever had.” Kili reminisced while leaning back into his chair. Fili copied his actions, looking at the ceiling. 

“You two know nothing of scars.” Dwalin shifted in his seat, “I’ve got some on my-” 

“You’d do well to remember that there is a lady present.” Balin interrupted before he continued. You pretended not to hear, and took a sip of your coffee.

The group was at a diner at 3 am. Perhaps not the most ideal, but then again, neither was an entire company of dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard being transported in your world. Well, you just had to help them didn’t you? Not only that, you wanted to, to get away. Plus, they’d just seemed so desperate. 

Your travels had lead you all across the state, and you’d completely forgotten about your normal life, your past, all that. You’d left everything behind, in your head you said it was for the greater good, but at the same time, you were somewhat glad. Sometimes it’s good to disappear. 

So, here you were, disappearing into a crowd of Tolkein creations all huddled around 3 shoved together tables at a diner, with two beleaguered waitresses and one cook attempting to satisfy all their needs at once. Gandalf had to remind Bilbo to not get up and politely offer to help them. If anyone knew how much of a handful they were, it was the hobbit sitting across from you at the head of the table. 

Bilbo gave you a look from across the table. Both of you wished that this conversation would be over. 

“I got a bunch of burn scars from my apprenticeship.” Nori chimed in. 

“A sign of hard work, that is.” Oin said, before slugging down an entire bottle of beer. You forgot that diners even had beer. 

“I’ve only got one scar.” Ori said disappointedly.

“I’ve got a good three on me, the dwarrowdams don’t seem to mind though.” Bofur winked, though at who, you didn’t know.

“That’s quite enough about scars.” Thorin interrupted, setting down his glass of orange juice menacingly. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that that wasn’t actually a drink of honor in America. There was a silence.

“Besides, I’ve got the most anyway.” The cheer began again. Thorin almost never showed his silly side, but even he was in good spirits tonight. Gandalf jsut watched, amused. 

“Bilbo,” you said, eager to find someone to relate to in all this ruckus, “how many have you got?” you asked sarcastically. The table erupted into chuckles. 

“Actually, I did get one from a knife. Right here.” He held up his ring finger, revealing a glassy line across his joint. Everyone only laughed even harder, and Bofur patted Bilbo on the back. Even Bilbo was in a joking mood now. 

“Yourself, (y/n)?” Everyone at the table turned eagerly to you.

You shrugged. 

“Haven’t got any.” 

“Come on (y/n), we’ve seen ‘em. No need to be modest.” Fili was trying to be friendly, but it definitely didn’t hit that way.

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s correct, you’ve got quite a nasty number on your (body part).” Bilbo too.

“Oh, those, yeah, I guess I do.” 

“Well?” Bofur peaked his head out from the rest of the dwarves at the end of the table. 

“Well what?” Everyone groaned.

“How’d they happen?” Dwalin shouted from the other end. 

“Was it a battle?” Ori asked. 

“You idiot, they don’t have battles here.” Nori slapped him up the head.

“They’ve got fights though.” Kili submitted.

“No, not that.” You shook your head. 

“Perhaps an incident in the kitchen?” Thorin looked at you intensely. 

“Nope.”

“An animal fight.” Bilbo.

“Nope.” 

“Bad fall.” Balin.

“Wrong again.” 

“Perhaps, my friends, the scars and the incident that caused them are private to Miss (y/n).” 

“No, no, it’s fine. I can tell you all the story.” Everyone turned back to you again. Shit, you had not thought this through.

“Well, uh, it was in a battle. With this, um, evil entity. No one really knows its name, or where it comes from. But a lot of people fight it.” 

“What kind of enemy harms people in that way?” Gloin spoke for the first time.

“Well, see, that’s the thing. It doesn’t fight you directly, most of the time. More often than not, it psychologically manipulates you, makes you believe certain things or act a certain way, and a lot of the times, people just can’t help themselves. And sometimes, it gives you scars.” 

“Well, did you win?” Dwalin was always the most bellicose. 

“Me, personally? Still working on it. You never know when it comes around. And, it’s very, very hard to defeat. A lot of people are probably currently fighting one as we speak.” 

“Must be a hell of a creature.” Fili took a swig of his drink.

“Sure is. But we’re also damn good fighters.” You didn’t know where that last part came from, but you felt a swelling in your heart and it just came out.

“I’ll drink to that.” Thorin held up his orange juice. Everyone around the table all put their glasses in the middle, before leaning their head back and chugging for all that their life was worth, yourself included. 

Moods were high until the waitress came by asking for the check.

You are never alone! If you are going through something, please reach out to someone. I’m always here to talk. I know it’s often hard to hear yourself say nice things to yourself, so I’ll say them. You’re all goddamn wonderful people, you’re all fighters, and your scars are never something to be ashamed of. Stay safe. 

[starswornoaths]

❝ the world showed no compassion to me. ❞ (insert eyes emoji here)

INSERT EYES EMOJI BACK

(also special shoutout to @holyja for bringing me to OT4 hell, I’m so glad I’m here adsfjk;rsilghsigjl)

Serella’s disappearance from the very star itself had been such a sudden thing, an unexpected thing that even hours after Tataru had given the news, it had left those closest to her reeling. As Tataru told it, Serella had had notified Hyana that she made for the Syrcus Trench in search of clues for what ailed the slumbering Scions, then in the span of moments after she had begun that search in earnest, she had disappeared in a flash of light.

“She said a voice called to her. It was hard to hear her as she was fading, though…” Tataru had said in a voice warbling with tears. After a long moment, she had handed Hyana a stack of sealed envelopes, tied together with a purple ribbon. “She left these in her room. I think...I don’t know what she wanted to do with them, but they’re all addressed to you.”

Even in the time it had taken her to drift from the Rising Stones to the Firmament, to home, Hyana still didn’t know what to make of the stack of letters that weighed as a stone in her hands.

That Vardr and Danuja didn’t immediately pounce on her the moment she got home meant someone else was here, too, occupying them— and when she wandered up to the bedroom and saw Aymeric and Estinien sat on their oversized bed with letters of their own, she knew why.

“Tataru sent them to all of us, then.” Estinien mused, turning his own unopened, untouched stack in his hands, his thumb smoothing over the red ribbon holding them together.

Aymeric said nothing, his fingers faintly trembling as he plucked at the blue ribbon binding his. Hyana joined them on the bed in silence, setting her letters down on the duvet as though they were made of glass. Vardr, sat in Aymeric’s lap, nosed at his hand as if to encourage him. Danuja, sat at Estinien’s side, sprawled to put her head in Hyana’s lap in an attempt to comfort them both.

“D’you suppose Serella was ever going to send them to us?” Hyana asked, breaking the weighty silence that hung in the canopied bed.

“Not while she is Acting Antecedent.” Aymeric replied quietly.

“Too tied up in politics to let herself feel anything.” Estinien snorted. “Sounds familiar.”

That got a flinch out of Aymeric, though silence reigned again. For how close the three of them were, even without Serella, it felt like none of them knew what to say to one another anymore. That tension wound them all taut, the air tense and still. Vardr and Danuja were not enough to soothe them, and the additions of Riley, Rhalgr, and Menphina were no better, though not for lack of trying on the part of their remaining dog and cats. 

With the bed filled to near capacity (for there was still one important occupant absent,) and no one truly knowing what to say, they all agreed to wordlessly read the letters given to them— possibly compare to see if she had simply copied her words over and over to them.

A silly thought— each letter was different, though the longing in them remained consistent. Though much of the contents remained private between them, ere long there were water logged phrases shared with exasperated warmth. “She must know we miss her greatly.” “Thinks we’re carrying on fine without her. Hmph.” “Doesn’t she know she can still turn to us?” It took little to get them all to thaw, just a little, just enough to smile in tired fondness.

She had that effect on them, even so far away.

“Wait—” Estinien paused when he reached the last letter in his pile, a thicker envelope than the others by far. “This...is not only addressed to me.”

“Hm?” Aymeric, only just setting his last letter aside, newly read with red rimmed eyes, leaned over to see what Estinien was talking about. “Tataru did not sort these ahead of time— Ella did. Meaning—”

“She must have hoped I’d come home to you both.” Estinien said for him with a disbelieving chuckle. “Can’t stop worrying over the lot of us to save her own life, can she?”

When Hyana peered curiously in kind and saw that it was addressed to all three of them, she felt something in her chest twist unpleasantly. Just the act of looking at the envelope felt like beholding a goodbye.

Even as she didn’t want it, she took the envelope from him and opened it without preamble. When Estinien made a noise of complaint, she held up a hand, “I’ll read it out loud.”

They watched her expectantly as she unfolded the letter, took a deep breath, and began to read.

“My Dearest Ones,

I don’t even know if you’ll ever see this. Maybe I just like to talk to you all. Maybe I just need to pretend I still can. I’m not sure of much of anything anymore, save for that someone— I can only presume it’s the same someone who has taken the Scions— has bid me seek answers in Syrcus Tower.

I’m assuming it’s a trap. It usually is. It probably is. But I’m going anyway. We have no other leads, and I have no other hope of coming home again. Because that’s what I’ve been laboring for: to come home to you all. It’s all I’ve wanted— even speaking in the day to day with you, Violet, or coordinating supplies and movements with you, Aymeric, I have mourned not being able to come home to you in any sense of the word. Estinien, I hope you came to be with them, to remind yourself you aren’t alone, but even if you’re reading this without their company, know that it’s been hard not to reach out to you at all, and that I hope you’re as well as you can be.”

Estinien sniffed, but Hyana didn’t tear her gaze from the letters scrawled on the pages in front of her.

“Every day I’ve had to remind myself that what I’m doing is only temporary. That it’s the right thing to do— if I can, I must, right? But I just...write to you all in what time I have left to myself. When I can’t sleep. When I don’t know what to do. And then...then I stuff it in a desk drawer and tell myself it’s selfish to send something like that when I still can’t be with you all. It would be unfair. How could I ask you all to support me when duty demands I keep you at arm’s length?

“Easily.” Aymeric whispered.

“I don’t know what I’ll find at the end of all of this. I don’t know what price I’ll have to pay to see the Scions restored, but I’ll pay it. For us, it’s worth it. I can’t promise many things, not the least of which is whether I’ll be the same person at the end of all of this. I can only promise that I’ll still be yours, for as long as you want me to be, and that I’ll bring us all home. I would be a fool to break that promise. The world was never kind to me, not until it led me to all of you. And I’ll fight my way back any way I can, to come home, to keep that kindness for myself. One way or another.

So lets all hold our heads high, as we always have, my darlings, and see this through, yeah? Have the kettle on for me, I’ll be home as soon as I can.

Your shield as sver,

Ella”

Hyana lost track of when her voice grew warbled with tears, but she felt them stick to her throat when she swallowed thickly. Her knuckles ached for how tightly they gripped the letter, even as she had taken care not to tear it. She would not cry over this. She hadn’t for months now, what did words scribbled on pages change any of that?

“God dammit.” Estinien snarled under his breath. When Hyana looked up at him, he had turned his head to hide from them both, the heel of his hand pressing firmly against his eye. “God dammit.”

When Aymeric sniffed, she looked to him. With a hand pressed tightly over his mouth and tears falling from full, sticky lashes he seemed to be the only one who had it in him anymore to cry. She wondered if he had taken all of their tears for himself in Serella’s place.

Hyana was not one for idle sorrow, not when productive rage was a more attractive option. The tears she swallowed couldn’t douse the fire in her chest, the sparks of indignation struck against her ribs, the smoke filling her lungs. How dare Serella just decide to do this alone— again —and all for those held dear to her as though they were only dear to her! As if she was not an occupant in their lives, their hearts! The unmitigated gall of her!

She had shrugged Danuja off her lap and stood before she had fully realized she had done so. The anger ran hot in her veins but she hadn’t felt so alive in months, not since home hadn’t felt the same. It was something, rather than the dreary emptiness that had weighed her down.

“Hyana?” Estinien looked up, pinned by Danuja fully now. 

Unceremoniously, she tossed the letter down and gathered the letters that had been addressed to her specifically. Hastily tying them back together with that purple ribbon (violet, the nerve of her,) and tucking the lot of them in with her gear, she made to hastily pack her bag.

“Violet?” Aymeric called softly.

“She went to Syrcus Trench.” Hyana’s words all rushed to get out, hands scrambling to throw what clothes and supplies she might need into her pack. “Then she disappeared, but I have a starting point— and I think I know who took her.”

“What—” Estinien managed to stand first, burdened with fewer pets weighing him down. “Hyana, I don’t—”

But she’d already finished what packing was needed— or at least, what she could think of amidst swirling thoughts and pounding pulse. Standing upright and swinging her pack upon her back she was already making for the door before either of them could even approach her.

“I’m going where she went. I’m going to track her down— and no, I don’t care where she went, I will find her— and I’m going to beat her stupid fucking face in.”

She’d propped her lance against the wall when she came in, but snatched it up and turned toward them, fully prepared for them to look scared, or upset, for them to try and talk her down from leaving. She hadn’t prepared for them to both look at her with slow, faint grins spreading on their faces. 

“Ordinarily, I’d advise against hitting her face.” Estinien’s grin widened. “But she’s been a stubborn ass. Slug her once for me, would you? I’d follow you, but Tataru reached out to me for more than just the letters.” With a roll of his shoulders, he explained, “I’m being contracted to fill in where you lot need aid the most. So at least take comfort there will at least be one dragoon out in force.”

“We all have our part to play.” Aymeric agreed with a nod. “I return to the front tonight.”

Where the room had been near stifled with the oppressive weight of sorrow there was an almost electric buzzing of motivation— of energy where there had been none. Moved to action, enthusiastic action, for the first time in weeks had them almost intoxicated with vigor, and they stepped out into the night, into their roles, with every intention of seeing the dawn together, all four of them.

They had that effect on one another like that.

[ask-de-writer]

DARING DO and the ADVENTURE of the X'IBIAN VASE! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 2 of 21

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DARING DO and the

ADVENTURE of the X'IBIAN VASE!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck) @ask-de-writer​

And

Carmen Pondiego @askcarmenpondiego���

Cover Art by

Doctor Dimension

52630 words

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 08/26/15

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge.  I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.  

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

The partners opened the door to enter impressively.  They tripped headlong on their own wastebaskets! She made a point of looking up disapprovingly and said sternly, “Please be seated.  I will be with you momentarily.”

She continued to study and sip the expensive juice.  Shaking her head in mock frustration, she glared up at the dismayed partners.  “You really do need a better translator for X'ibian.  This farrago is nearly hopeless.”

Before any of them could respond to the multiple outrages that they were experiencing, Daring Do snorted, “Don’t like it when the intimidation is happening to you? Neither do I.  The difference is this.  I DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT IF I GET BORED!

“To business.  Now.”

“Um, that is my chair, Miss Do.”

“And you may have it back as soon as the conference is over, Mister Tyranny.  Along with it, you may have the juice, if any is left.  The longer that this takes, the less you get.”  She pointedly sipped more from the snifter.

“The FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS will be the payment of the sum of fifty thousand golden bits directly to my account at Equestrian National Bank.  This is repayment for your clumsy break-in of my office.”

“Now, Miss Do, you are making wild accusations that cannot be proved at all!”

Raising her eyebrows in amusement, Daring Do retorted, “Really, Mister Overthrow?  I know that this will not hold up in court because no warrant was used to obtain it.  Trust me, I have more.  Enough to put both you and Mister Robber into jail.”  

She shuffled through the stack of purloined documents and held up a map and a parchment, both sealed by chop and brush written.  The parchment was in Chineighese and the map notes written in X'ibian.

“Besides these, I have your accomplice who used a key to open my door, already in custody under the Royal Wing.  In Celestia and Luna’s Evidence are certain other things that can be traced to you both.”

Outraged, Mister Tyranny demanded, “What puts a minor break in at the University under the Royal Wing?”

Smiling sadly, Daring Do replied, “The fact that the broken figurines that were on my shelves were genuine antiques belonging to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.  They were gifts that I gave them and are formally recorded in the Royal Register.  That is where the bulk of the damages come from.”

Hardening to solid steel, her voice demanded, “NO CHECKS OR DRAFTS ON YOUR FIRM!  No PERSONAL ONES, either.  Irrevocable gold transfer orders to the Bank, now! The Princesses have already given the Bank their authorization for the size of the sum.”

“We will need to confer on this!”

“Confer away!  Just do not take too long nor leave this room for any reason.  The building is already surrounded by units of the Royal Guards backed up by the 23rd Airborne Armored Pegassi and the 4th Royal Armored Heavy Infantry.  Don’t believe me?  Just look out the window at the streets.”

They looked.  And shuddered. “What happens if we do the transfer, Miss Do?”

“It will reduce the issue to an out of court damage settlement.  The evidence will be kept in the case of violation or future charges from other misconduct.”

Glumly, Tyranny tapped codes into the Magic Net mirror built into his desk.  He spoke briefly and bitterly.  A few minutes later, Overthrow reported, “The armor is pulling back.”

There was a signal from Daring Do’s mirror.  She spoke briefly.  Looking up brightly, she reported, “The transfer is done and the military units will withdraw completely after our business is done and I am safely out of the building.”

Tyranny’s brow clouded with fury.  “We have paid!  Don’t you trust us?”

With an angelic smile, Daring do returned, “You are LAWYERS.  NOBODY in their right mind trusts you!

“Now, about this business that you wanted to hire me for.”

The three partners glared at each other first and then unified their hateful stares at Daring Do, who responded by by pouring another shot into the snifter and sipping appreciatively.

It was Robber who snapped, “After this extortion, why would we even consider you for anything?”

“You broke into my office, faking the breaking of the dead bolt and the frame to obtain information that you have totally failed to get.  You did find this map which you could have got a copy of for only five silver bits from the Antique Sites Registry.  You also stole a letter from my friend and guide, Sang He.  I suspect that you took it because it was in something looking like Chineighese.  It’s not.  This is modern X'ibian written with Chineighese characters.  Sorry.”

Sourly, Tyranny said, “That map has the exact location of the artifact that we are looking for. It is at the X.”

Daring Do almost spit out her juice, she was laughing so hard.  “You have marked the ancient Imperial city of Hong Wa!  Do you have any idea what the scale of this map is?  Your X marking the exact spot covers a radius of 15 kilometers from Hong Wa!”

Glaring at Daring Do, sitting in HIS chair, sipping His expensive juice, and laughing at him was not to be borne!  He haughtily informed her, “It is buried in the necropolis, a graveyard, just out of the city.  All that is needed is to find the appropriate tomb or grave and dig it up!”

Daring Do stopped laughing.  She was staring at Mister Tyranny as if she was looking at a retarded colt.  Jaw dropped, she asked, “Are you serious?  You should have bought the map from the Antiquities Site Registry.  You would have gotten the main site list along with it.

“Inside the radius of the X on the map, there are 14 necropoli, each housing over 2000 tombs and shaft graves.  This does not count the simple burials.  If you extend the search radius only a little, you also include the cliff burials. We cataloged over 300 caves, both natural and carved into the stone. The caves that we sampled had upwards of five hundred skeletons each.”

It was Mister Overthrow who dropped the bomb, so to speak.  “It should be easy to locate.  It is in the tomb of Im Farst, the founding emperor of the X'ibian Empire.”

Daring Do put a hoof over her eyes.  “You do know that that Im Farst is basically a partly documented legend, don’t you?  His tomb is RUMORED to be somewhere within three days walk of Hong Wa!  It has never been found.  Over a hundred legal expeditions have spent more than 3.5 million golden bits trying to locate it without success.  Luna alone knows how many illegal ones there have been.

“Among the over 2,000 artifacts that are supposed to have been interred with Im Farst, what precisely do you want found?”

Mister Robber growled as he held out a picture.  “This.  The small blue, green and white vase in the corner of this wall painting.”

Daring Do took one look and nearly fell out of the chair, laughing.  When she got herself under control, she chugged a big slug of juice before snickering, “The Heart of Discord!?  You want that!?  That wall painting is the ONLY record of its existence from the Ancient X'ibian Empire!  All of the mentions of it and claims about it and its mystical powers date from just after the Second Nightmare War, over 750 years after the Heart was supposedly buried and lost for all time!”

Tyranny gave Daring Do a squinty eyed stare.  “IF you can find it, we will not quibble the cost. Let us know how much you will need to mount the expedition and we will give you 50 percent up front and not worry about the recovery of it if you fail.  We do know your record for finding things that others have sought and failed to locate.

“If the Heart is found, we will pay the full balance and add ½ million gold for your service. Just sign this payment agreement and non disclosure document and we will be in business.

Daring Do took the papers and neatly folded them.  “I will keep things confidential, gentleponies.  I will have MY lawyer look them over and advise me about proceeding or not.

“If I go ahead with this, I will deliver this and my expedition workup to Horsetense, the receptionist in the lobby.  Please please be prompt with the payment.”

Getting up and leaving, she said over her shoulder, “Your chair, Mister Tyranny.  I am afraid that there is little of the juice left.  It was excellent.”

Down in the lobby, Daring Do asked a shaken receptionist, “I do hope that the Armored Infantry were polite to you?  I told them to be!”

“They were totally polite, except for setting up the sixty mm Mage-Mortars over in the park. That was not too reassuring.”

“I can see that.”

Daring Do left the building and sauntered up to the Colonel in charge.  “Very well done, Sir.  I will see that the Princesses get a truly favorable report of this action.”

He nodded with a smile.  “Thank you, Miss Do.  If all is in order, we shall withdraw at once.”

A while later Daring Do was staring at her mother’s Canterlot Headquarters.  She shook her head. The building itself, in the poor light of evening was nearly black. It loomed  above the street.  No other word would do; it loomed. There was a relatively huge planter/light box on the front of the building.  It was a pale purple, almost white.  The lights in the box illuminated huge letters spelling out, V.I.L.E.  The V was red over a gray circle with an off white interior.  The remaining letters were the same purplish off white as the circle’s interior.

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[jae-bummer]

Take the Lead

Request: Hey! Could you write a college au with Dino from Seventeen? Maybe with coffee shop study sessions that turn into not-actually-studying study dates? Thanks! -🌺

Pairing: Seventeen’s Dino x Reader

Genre: Fluff

You glanced apprehensively to your lab partner, hearing his voice for the first time all semester. 

“Your notes...?” he questioned again, slowly this time. He tilted his head to the side, emphasizing his request with the mere plea of his facial expression. 

“Right,” you said slowly. “My notes.” 

“From yesterday?” he trailed, now eying your binder. 

You gnawed on your lip as you followed his focus, glancing down to your notes as well. 

So you weren’t the best note taker, but your approach worked for you and that was what mattered. Doodles and different colors of ink decorated your page, emphasizing the sections you would pay the most attention to when you studied. 

You tried to ignore the small and awkwardly photo realistic sketches of your professor as a merman. 

“I can photo copy them...and bring them back for the next class?” he tried, looking up to your face again. 

You brought your attention back up to him as well, continuing to chew on your lip. The last thing you needed were copies of this mess circulating the halls of your university. 

“Or I can just...write everything down,” he hummed. 

Yes, yes, that was much safer. 

“Okay,” you said meekly, unclasping the rings of your notebook and sliding the pages over to him with a wince. “Sorry about all of...that.” You motioned vaguely to the paper. 

“No, no,” he chuckled shyly. “You have to stay awake in this class somehow.” 

You looked down to your hands in your lap and sighed. Chan, or as his friends called him, Dino, hadn’t been your first choice in lab partner. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with him, you just didn’t know him. He was thin, toned, and conventionally handsome (if you were into dancer types....or well, men in general). He seemed kind and relatively quick at learning things. Somehow you had operated in the lab without speaking on most occasions, communicating based on body language alone. 

He was a dance major and you were not, both of you in this class simply to fill an elective. He was shy, mostly quiet, but laughed loudly where his friends were concerned. You had seen him around campus a few times, and you were pretty sure he was also in your English class. 

Overall, you didn’t have much to do with one another. And both of you seemed to have little issue with keeping it that way.

“Right,” you chuckled, letting an awkward silence last entirely too long between the two of you.

He nodded politely before tucking your pages in his notebook and looking up towards the professor’s lecture.

Glancing at Chan through your periphery as you did the same, you silently cursed at yourself. Could you be any more awkward?

.

.

In the following days, you had spent the better part of your time dwelling on all of the social missteps you took in your conversation with Chan. Your anxiety was hard at work with making you realize what an embarrassment you were, but nothing could make you feel any worse than what would happen in your next session.

“Thanks again,” Chan said with a tight smile as he slid your notes back toward you.

“No problem,” you sighed, giving the pages a quick glace before completely turning your attention to them. “Are...are these my notes?”

The paper you had turned over a few days ago was colorful enough, covered in various inks and designs, but this was completely different. Marring the blue and white lines was red ink. Everywhere.

“Sorry,” he hummed. “I took a few liberties of supplementing your notes with what I had read in the book and what I had heard from a study group I was in. By the time I realized what I had done...it looked like I stabbed your paper.”

“No kidding,” you hissed, glancing over the words. You could hardly see your own writing anymore, but quickly became preoccupied with Chan’s now covering the page.

“Some of the things you had...” he trailed, looking away from you with a blush on his face. “Were...uh...how should I say this?”

“Out with it,” you groaned, the annoyance of the whole situation prickling your skin.

“Inaccurate,” he said bluntly with a sad smile. “By not by a lot! Just small things here and there.”

That would explain your grade then.

You let your face fall into your hands and let out another groan. “I just can’t comprehend this stuff.”

“Have you thought about joining a study group?” Chan inquired. “I’ve been in one since the class started. I’m a dance major, so science isn’t necessarily-”

“Anatomy,” you muttered. “Science does help with dance. The way the muscles move and-”

“This is biology,” he hummed with a smile. You lifted your face and gave him a side eye. “I’m not sure what the life cycle of a banana slug is going to do for my modern dance final.”

“I haven’t thought about a study group,” you muttered finally. You didn’t feel like making a fool of yourself in front of multiple people.

“What about studying with me then?” he blurted, his cheeks instantly turning rosy with the suggestion.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I don’t want to burden you and you seem so busy...”

“So busy?” he chuckled. “Since when do you know my schedule?”

Okay, your turn to feel the tense heat of embarrassment begin to envelop your face.

“Meet me at the coffee shop by the student union,” he nodded. “We’ll go over these notes.”

All you could manage was a blank nod. “Right.”

.

.

You eased into an overly plush chair and began spreading out your books. He was late, or maybe you were a little too early. Fiddling with your pens nervously, you glanced around the small cafe. You had hardly spent any time here, except to run in and get the most energizing drink they could legally make for you.

Chewing on your lip, you glanced over the menu options. Maybe you could buy Chan a coffee to make up for him having to tutor you.

Study session, you mentally corrected yourself. That’s what he had called it.

“Hey,” Chan’s now familiar voice carried over the smooth jazz playing on the coffee shop’s speakers. He set down two cups on the table and smiled.

He was effortless. Even with his hair a mess and glances hiding his slim, angled face, he was handsome.

But you couldn’t think about that. You had to think about science.

And the fact that now, you couldn’t reward him with a coffee.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he hummed, sitting across from you. “I decided to get us both something while I was waiting.”

“I don’t mind at all,” you breathed, reaching toward the cup closest to you. “I did want to get your coffee today though...you know, payback for...this?”

“You have nothing to pay me back for,” he grinned. “We are the blind leading the blind, helping each other.”

“I think you may be a little more well versed in leading,” you sighed, looking over the notes he had written over yours.

“Maybe,” he chuckled, his cheeks turning pink again. For someone who was a trained dancer, you had assumed he didn’t mind a little flattery or attention pushed his way. Over the course of your brief interactions with him, it seemed to be the opposite. He was charmingly shy, and almost as embarrassed at the awkwardness of your interactions as you were. “You ready to get started?”

.

.

As the study sessions continued, so did the ease of your exchanges. It wasn’t long before the two of you had found a cadence in your meetings, finding yourselves in the coffee shop nearly every Saturday afternoon.

What had first began as uncomfortable hour-long blocks, slowly evolved into stretches of three to four hours, beginning with science, and ending with just about anything else. You grew to genuinely enjoy Chan’s company, and you had hoped that he grew to enjoy yours as well.

“Hey,” you greeted, stepping up to him as he waited for you outside of the cafe.

“Hey,” he grinned, readjusting his book bag on his shoulder.

“So today is photosynthesis or something?” you chuckled, reaching for the handle of the door. Just as you were about to pull it open, Chan’s hand found your wrist.

Looking up at him in surprise, there was a silent question on your face. Why?

“Uh...” he trailed, dropping your arm and instantly looking away. He ran a hand along the back of his neck before grimacing at the ground. “So I was thinking...”

“You don’t want to study with me anymore?” you croaked, your worst fears confirmed. It made sense. The semester would be winding to a close soon, so he wouldn’t need your assistance anymore. Any glimmer of hope you had to have been able to pursue a friendship...or something more...was snuffed out.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Well, no! Well, I don’t want to not study with you.”

“There were so many double negatives in that, I’m honestly not sure what the outcome was,” you sighed, crossing your arms.

“We can study for the classes we’re in together if you want,” he explained. “But I don’t want to just study with you.”

“You want to...?” you questioned, tilting your head.

“I want to go on dates with you too,” he nodded slowly. “In my head...these turned into study dates awhile ago...and I wasn’t sure how to transition it into...actual dates?”

“Actual...Actual dates?” you whispered, your eyes growing wide.

“I mean - if you don’t want to,” he quickly backpedaled. “We can just be study partners. We don’t have to like...hang out, and cuddle, or like hold hands or anything.”

“Is that what we’re to do on actual dates?” you chuckled, attempting to hide your amusement.

“I mean...I don’t know,” he grumbled. “I’m not good at this.”

“Sure you are,” you smiled. “You take the lead on most things, remember?”

“Not this,” he sighed. “Please quit torturing me. Would you like to go do something instead of study this afternoon?”

“I would love to,” you said, without letting a silence linger between the two of you. Chan’s shoulders immediately relaxed and a small smirk played across his mouth. “So where to?”

“No idea,” he grinned. “This is as far as I got in my head. If I thought any further, it would suck more when I got let down.”

“Did you seriously think I was going to say no?” you laughed.

“I don’t know,” he groaned. “It was a variable I wanted to prepare for.”

“If I said no, I assume our study sessions would become very awkward,” you teased. “And frankly, I can’t afford to fail this class.”

“Oh gee thanks,” he grinned, pointing with his chin to a miscellaneous spot in the distance. “Let’s get you a good grade then.”