#Dead Rock was Thought of since Rave Master Ended

[luckyrave]

Dead Rock was Thought of Since Rave Master Ended (2005)??!!

Dead Rock has been a new monthly manga series that Hiro Mashima debuted in Monthly Shounen Magazine in July 2023, and it was something he's had in mind since Rave Master's Manga came to an end back in 2005. A Project that was 18 Years in The Making before it was debuted!

[viking-raider]

The Belle and the Bane - Intro

Summary: How the legend of the Bane began and your simple life.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 2,611

Rating: Fantasy!AU, Mentions of death, Illness, Language, Angst, Curses

Inspiration: The beauty and the beast, among other things.

Author’s Note: Thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ for brainstorming this with me, hammering out the details! Tell me what you think!

Once upon a time, in an ancient land, there was a small village of three hundred dreary and poor inhabitants. In this small village of Mintwillow, there was a legend of dark and sinful proportions; the legend went like this.

Living in a neglected castle, a handful of leagues from the village, placed perilously on the edge of a cliff, with the roaring and roiling waves of an ocean below, crashing against the rock face and eroding it away, was who the village called, the Bane. He had been the fourth of five children, all brothers, who had all lived happily and harmoniously with their loving and pampering parents. The family was the most prosperous family within nearly sixty leagues of the village, which, at the time, was just as prosperous and bustling, riding the wave of their success.

But, then, disaster struck.

A horrible illness washed over the county, striking the inhabitants of Mintwillow the hardest. The Bane's family, despite their wealth and good standing, also became victims of the disease. Every last one of them became sick with it; bedridden and raving, bodies throbbing, as if all of their bones were shattering, and sweating so profusely from their fevers, that their mattresses were soaked through, and took turns in getting sick. Their servants, also sick themselves, did their best to care for their beloved masters, but it was all for not. First, the mistress of the castle died of the illness, followed by the youngest son and the third oldest. The father and oldest went two days later, but the second oldest and second youngest held out for a fortnight. On the night of the fourteenth day, even after a glitter of hope of becoming well again, the second oldest perished, leaving only the second youngest alive.

Who still fought for his life against the illness.

He had languished between getting better for a day or two, before becoming quite worse and being only moments, if not seconds, from death. But, finally, after nearly another fortnight, the second youngest son roused, his fever breaking and his life safe from the dark tentacles of death that had taken all of his family, all that mattered and he held so dearly to his heart.

It had taken time, and a good many lives, before the plague that washed over Mintwillow to pass away, leaving an ugly scar in the lives and minds of the inhabitants. While a mass grave had to be excavated for the townspeople, the bodies of the dead family were given single graves in their ancestral graveyard, just down the hill from the castle. It was the day of their funeral, even though they had already been in their graves for a month or more, that the second youngest son, now the heir and executor of the family empire, realized the amount of power he suddenly wielded; the mass fortunes of gold he had at his disposal, for every want, whim and fancy he could ever dream of, with no one to tell him no, or hold him in check with the spending.

That was when the Bane came to be.

He threw huge balls for the top families in the land, inviting the prettiest women his staff could find and lived in the county. He spent thousands of pounds on furnishings, decorations and things he had no need for; some he didn't even know how to work and use, but bought, simply because he could. But, within two years of his new found power, the money was starting to dwindle. He was spending more than the family business could support.

So, he taxed the small town of Mintwillow.

Raising the taxes on the goods he supplied them, supplies and goods they needed to live and support themselves, since the next option to do so, was over a hundred leagues away. He taxed them for everything he could, and even thought up new things he could tax them on, because he knew without him, they would all likely starve.

After awhile, spending mountains of gold, throwing lavish parties and having an endless line of women, didn't fill the hole that had been left at the loss of his parents and brothers. Nonetheless, he kept spending the gold and dancing at his parties and bedding every woman he could. It had become a habit now, instead of a pleasure. However, in the third year after the illness, and quite suddenly, he no longer threw lavish parties that lasted for days, he no longer spent vast amounts of gold or entertained a woman. Some in the village speculated that he had packed up and moved out of the county, having slighted some young lady's honor and ran before her father could force him into marrying her. Some said, someone he had overtaxed had become so enraged by it, they murdered him and his body was decaying somewhere in the castle.

But, the impossibly high taxes kept being enforced and collected.

What he had done, was reduced the staff to a single butler, closed up all of the rooms, but his own bedroom, a study and the kitchen; leaving the rest to grow thick layers of dust, cobwebs, moth holes and to fall into disrepair and neglect; leaving the ghosts of his former life to inhabit them.

Shutting the world away and darkening the once bright and full of life castle.

Why would he suddenly close out the world like that? The answer isn't as simple as one might think.

During one of the biggest balls he had ever thrown, the girls were flocking him, as usual, when an exceptionally gorgeous woman approached him, she was so radiant in her gown and her self assurance, that he couldn't help be attracted to her, drawn to her glow, like a moth to the naked flame of a candle. Pushing away all other women, he approached her, turning his handsome charm onto her. She was just as drawn to him as he was to her. They danced and floated around each other, none other existed to them, not the nearly two hundred guests or the jealous women; just him and her.

Before long, the pair were in the privacy of one of the castle's many rooms, sitting close together on a divan, smiling faces so near to each other, they shared the same breath. They shared jokes and quips, flirtations and jests. But, suddenly, her behavior changed and her bright eyes dimmed, like a dangerous storm cloud.

“You like all your fancy things, don't you?” She hissed at him. “Having every woman fling herself upon your feet, like a simpering puppy.”

He blinked at her, taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. “What are you talking about?” He demanded, pulling away from her; shock and brewing rage in his blue eyes and handsome face.

“Taxing the lands and lives of all the poor souls in this land, while you sit fit and happy upon your mountains of gold and privilege.” Her own rage grew, out matching his own. “Yet, you are as miserable, if not more so, than they are. But, you still tax them, sucking them dry, until they are so far in debt to you, they fling themselves from the cliffs, to end their suffering.”

“Suffering you cause for nothing.”

“I won't be spoken to like this.” He said in a low growl, his upper lip twitching with a snarl. “Get out and never show your face here again! Or I'll show you what true misery is!” He raved, jumping to his feet and pointing a stiff finger to the door.

She stood with him, quite gracefully for a soul so consumed with rage and distaste. “No, you will know what misery really is!” She barked, before roughly kissing him, her long nails digging into the soft flesh of his neck, leaving thin trails of blood in their stead.

“That will be the last kindness you will have for some time.” She hissed, then swept out of the room.

The room was dark and stifling hot, you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your back, as you leaned over the mortar you were currently grinding up a combination of white willow bark, yarrow and marshmallow root in. Another painful sounding and wet cough filled the single room hut your patient lived in with her husband and six children, all under the age of nine. Getting the herbs fine enough, you turned to the roaring fireplace that dominated a large section of the north wall of the hut. You had told her husband not to put so many logs on the fire, she was already badly hydrated, and the overwhelming heat of the fire, combined with her high fever, were causing her to sweat profusely, making her even more dehydrated.

But, being a man and feeling he knew better than you, he kept feeding more and more logs into the licking flames.

You suppressed an eye roll as he tossed another sizable log into the fire, sending up a shower of sparks into the chimney flue. Using the skirt of your dress, you grabbed a hold of the handle to the roiling kettle and pulled it off the hook that held it over the flames. Taking it back to the makeshift kitchen table, you dumped the ground herbs into the battered and chipped teapot, then poured in the steaming hot water, leaving it to brew the herbal tea that would reduce her fever and help quiet down her cough.

“Have her drink the whole pot.” You told him, holding the teapot, and still using your dress as a barrier, while you gently swirl the liquid inside, the heat radiating through the porcelain felt pleasant. “Even if she doesn't want to. But, don't make her drink it too fast either. Maybe a cup every half hour.” You explained to him, setting it back down on its stone coaster.

“If she gets any worse, come and get me.” You added, gathering your little bag full of herbs and other odds and ends you used as a healer for Mintwillow.

“Thank you.” The husband said gruffly, standing stiffly by his wife's side.

“Of course.” You nodded to him, then gave the youngest child, only fourteen months old, and sitting on the hearth rug, gumming on a biscuit, a smile; recalling you helping birth the babe into the world, before going out into the cold and salty air.

It was so much nicer out there, the winds pushing in pungent ocean air, salty and fresh, with a tang of fish and kelp. It was cool and refreshing, an excellent cure all to the stuffy and hot atmosphere of the hut you just left. You were nearly home, when a familiar silhouette appeared in the early evening mist, bringing a happy smile to your face.

“Hello, papa.” You greeted him as he fully appeared.

“Hello, child.” He smiled back at you, his tired and wrinkled face brightening at the sight of you. “How is she?” He asked, eyes flickering to the hut several yards behind you.

“She should be just fine.” You assured him, confidently. “Just a strong cold. Nothing I can't fight.” You chuckled, but you could see the undeniable fear and anxiety in his deep set brown eyes.

Your father, honestly, loathed that you were a healer, but he honored your choice, like he had always done your entire life. If you set your mind to something and he knew you couldn't be swayed on the subject, he would respectfully disagree, but would support you, through and through. You were his daughter, his first born, his only born, and he would move heaven and earth for your happiness. But, his fear and anxiety over your chosen profession came with good merit and reason. Nearly five years before, a great illness had swept over the village, taking so many lives. But, there was one person there, doing her utmost best to try, and at least, slow its progression.

Your mother.

She had been Mintwillow's healer longer than you had been born, before she and your father had even married. Nothing would stop her from healing her fellow villagers, not even that horrid plague. She had worked tirelessly to try and stop it, though, more often than not, she would lose to it. Your mother didn't let that stop her though, she kept trying and trying, mixing every type of herb she had and could get her hands on, looking for a cure. Your father would have to bodily drag her away from her herbalist table, just so she would take a moment to eat or drink something, to sleep, even if it was just for a moment's nap.

Then, she was right back at it.

In the end though, four dozen Mintwillow villagers died, your dearest mother, being one of them. She had caught it, after being in contact with so many of the infected, and died almost a week later; leaving only you and your father. You had gotten the illness, there was barely a single handful of people who didn't get it, but had survived, with very little after effects. Your father on the other hand, had survived, only to be severely affected by it, he couldn't work the endless hours he once had as the village's blacksmith, finding wielding the heavy tools of his craft almost too much to manage for more than an hour or two.

Which affected the household income, making so many things you both needed scarce, like food and clothing. So, taking what you had learned from your mother, you stepped into her shoes as the village healer, hoping that the occasional gold piece would help ease the burden on your father. It still wasn't enough though, and that became abundantly clear, when stiff and high taxes were pressed on the village and its workers, your father being one of them, needing the supplies for his blacksmithing, causing him to be heavily in debt.

Of all the bones in your body, there was only one of them that was mean, and it loathed the life crippling taxes that squeezed and bled every person in the village, man, woman, child and even infants. You glanced across the foggy village, to the shadowy smudge, almost hidden by the charcoal clouds, that were like puffs of wool, against stark purple sky; the castle. You hated that filthy structure that loomed over the village, like an awful eye, bringing nothing be hardship and doom. You hated the creature that lived inside of it, reaping all the benefit of your father's hard-work, while you both struggled to put half a loaf of bread on the table for one of the two meals you could afford a day; if you were lucky.

Shaking the malice away from your thoughts, you followed your father back to your home. It was a little more than the rest of the homes in Mintwillow, it was a story and a half, the kitchen and living area was all one room, there was a water closet and a back room, that was your father's room. The half story was a loft, that was your own room. You loved your room, going up the half spiral staircase to it, it was closed off, so you had the utmost level of privacy. Half of your room, hanging above a writing desk, was an array of herbs that you used for your healing.

The one thing about your room that you had a qualm with, was the single peaked window; it pointed towards the bleak structure on the stormy cliffs, forever in your sight, whenever you look out your window. You wished it would just fall off the cliff it was butted up against; the gloomy and cursed castle of the Bane.

[yellowmagicalgirl]

AU where Douxie attended Arcadia Oaks High instead of the Academy?

Okay, so first off, I’m using my revised backstory for Douxie for this AU. Therefore, no time travel, and Douxie is literally only 17 years old. (However, he was born 1491 years ago.) Also, I’m only putting the first five fun facts above the cut because this is getting long.

1. Douxie got cast as Paris in the school play. He recognizes that Jim is using the Daylight sword, and Douxie knows that the Daylight sword is extremely dangerous. (Douxie also spies on Jim to be sure that yes, this is the real Amulet of Daylight.) One day, when Douxie and Jim are alone, Douxie reveals that he is a wizard and he helped make Jim’s amulet, and Jim needs to make a fake version of the sword or else Jim will kill Douxie and whomever is playing Tybalt. From there on, Douxie becomes an ally to the trollhunters. Archie does as well, though he’s far more cautious because he does not want to become lunch. The Hex Tech wizards might get involved as well?

2. A running gag is that Douxie keeps on flirting with girls/women... except according to him, he is not flirting. He is being chivalrous and it’s not his fault that in modern times American society believes that being chivalrous to someone of the opposite sex is flirting.

3. Douxie has a very warm perception to Claire joining the team right up until Claire claims the Shadow Staff. Not because it’s dark magic and it was Morgana’s staff once, but because it’s a staff.

Douxie: no you can’t use a staff yet you aren’t trained enough

Archie: Wow you sound just like another wizard we know

Douxie: Who?

Archie: Merlin.

Douxie: 😣 I hate to say it but maybe the old man had a point... but I was trained and she isn’t! 😣

Eventually Douxie comes around and starts training Claire in magic. Due to this, she has powers beyond shadowmancy.

4. Douxie’s worst fear in the pixie episode is of abandonment.

5. Ash Dispersal Pattern only has members from Arcadia Oaks Academy, so Douxie would either be teaming up with Claire or he’d be a solo guitarist for the Battle of the Bands

6. After Toby tries to give Jim flirting tips, Jim tries to go to Douxie for advice. After all, Douxie knows how to be flirtatious and charming. In a frustrated tone of voice he tells Jim that not only does he not intend to flirt with girls he also never learned how to speak to a potential romantic interest because wizards weren’t allowed to ever marry back in Camelot.

7. Douxie is not the waiter for the double date, specifically because Jlaire+Darby do not go to Benoit’s. They know that depending on how the conversation goes, there’s a chance that either Douxie will be awkwardly fifth-wheeling the date or Darci will be unknowingly fifth-wheeling trollhunting conversations.

8. The exorcism is tense. Douxie uses the shadow staff, plugging in his earbuds/headphones and listening to loud emo/rock music in order to block out Morgana. However, she tries to convince Strickler that he could have Barbara if he took the staff from Douxie, and Douxie ends up pulling out an earbud as he yells at Strickler about how Morgana is an illusionist. Afterwards, Morgana focuses on tormenting Douxie, calling him out on every single thing that he has feared since his childhood, as well as offering to give him power if he betrayed Merlin. Eventually, he tells her that he hates her. Morgana tries to claim that his loyalty to a master who never cared for him is blinding Douxie (untrue, Morgana was the one person other than Merlin who knew just how much Merlin loved Douxie.) Douxie then yells that he loved Morgana like family, and she threw that away. And by throwing that away, she ruined his life because her war with Merlin made Merlin decide to send Douxie and Archie away. Realizing that there was nothing she could do to make Douxie join her side, Morgana creates an illusion of Douxie’s hands being covered in black cracks, like those of a corrupted shadowmancer. She sneers about how he’s corrupted himself, and Douxie drops the Shadow Staff in shock. Douxie is on the side of “no let’s not stab Claire”.

9. Douxie isn’t around when Barbara, Ophelia, Javier, and Nancy first interrogate the kids. After all, he’s a year older than them, and thus he has different finals to study for.

10. When Douxie comes to the house, Barbara asks where his parents are. Before Douxie can make a snide comment about how he’s been asking himself that since he was an abandoned two year old, Archie tactfully reveals that he raised Douxie.

11. Douxie is very quiet when he learns that Claire found Merlin’s tomb. He never thought that Merlin could have died. He pulls his hood up and wraps his arms around himself.

“He promised he’d come back for me,” Douxie says.

“It’s been a millenium and a half,” someone else says, tone gentle but with a face of “dude people don’t live that long”

“I know of wizards who’ve lived twice that long” Archie says, glaring at everyone while wrapping himself protectively around his wizard.

12. Douxie fixes the amulet while everyone else is exploring the tomb. Jim is able to use the amulet to fight Gunmar. Draal lives.

13. Merlin has enough sense not to make the “Jim I’m your father” joke, not when his actual son is standing right next to Jim, overjoyed by how Merlin wasn’t actually dead.

14. In a total reverse of the “Douxie stop flirting”/“I’m not flirting” gag, Douxie starts acting weird and awkward around Krel. Jim, Toby, and Claire ask him what he’s doing, and Douxie tells them that he’s flirting with Krel. Or at least, trying to. When Krel sets up a rave in the Janus Order, Douxie ends up putting a hand over his chest and saying, “Be still my beating heart.”

15. Merlin gives the kids their armor, including Douxie. However, he accidentally made Douxie think he was going to finally get that staff. Douxie, trying to prove that he’s useful, enchants the armor so the three of them can put it on/take it off quickly. (Merlin is a little mean about how no, Douxie has not yet proven that he can have a staff, but also Merlin can’t make a staff for Douxie until he has his magic back.)

16. I’m not sure how Douxie would react to the whole troll!Jim thing aside from complaining that now Jim’s taller than him. But, I don’t know if this would make his relationship with Merlin more tense or not.

17. I feel like it makes a lot more sense for Douxie to go with Merlin and the trolls to New Jersey, plus it would be mean for Merlin to make him stay in Arcadia Oaks. In character, but mean. On the other hand, if Douxie were to stick around for 3Below, he would call Eli out on the “wizards and aliens hide among us” thing because hiding is a safety thing, possibly also joking that “oh no, what next, are the gays going to invade our humble town”. Also, Douxie slowly gets better at talking to Krel. Krel doesn’t seem to show any romantic interest in Douxie, but he also doesn’t do anything to indicate that he doesn’t like the idea of Douxie being romantically interested in him. At least, not until Krel gets concussed/knocked out (again) and put on pain killers. While high on pain killers, Krel tells Douxie, “Don’t tell Douxie but I might be in love with him.”

[reinvent-and-believe]

OH HO HO PROMPTS! how about geraskier + 35 (OR, if you'd like some options: 5 or 59) 😊

Ahhhhhhhh I mean if you insist 😄

(I really really like 59 and still might write that at some point, but 5 is what I ended up going with. Also I feel like you should know I started to write something super angsty, you know, something in my wheelhouse, but then I decided I couldn’t do that to my Fluff Friend™️ so instead, here, have something only kind of angsty and kind of Soft)

-

5) things you didn’t say at all

Jaskier has so many words.

They’re constant, relentless, ceaseless. A bombardment of words. An onslaught of words. A veritable barrage of words.

(Jaskier would appreciate the grandeur of these words, if Geralt shared his thoughts aloud. Bombardment, onslaught, barrage. Descriptive words. Poetic words. The sort of words the bard uses to transform the most banal contract into a thrilling adventure. They’re not words Geralt would have thought to use before Jaskier.)

He has words for the breathtaking beauty of the setting sun lighting a field of flowers they pass by, words for the awe-inspiring majesty of an archgriffin soaring through the sky (the cerulean sky, apparently) above them, words for the putrescent stench of a nearby rotfiend nest. He has words to make the shyest, most awkward village girl gleam beautifully under his doting attention, words to assuage the traumatized, stuttering child who witnessed a gruesome alghoul attack, words to charm the stingiest of men into coughing up the promised coin after Geralt completes a contract.

On a clear night a few weeks past the autumnal equinox, Jaskier has words for the grumbling innkeeper who protests that they “don’t serve your kind” when Geralt tries to procure a room. Furious, colorful words that surprise Geralt, even as he maneuvers his screaming companion out of the small country inn and into the still autumn night.

He lets him continue his ravings as they trek down the road, assuming that he’ll surely run out of steam soon. Geralt scans the terrain for a good place to set up camp, only half-listening to the diatribe that seems to be gaining momentum rather than reaching some denouement (Jaskier loves to talk about the denouement. He’d delivered a lengthy lecture on narrative structure to Geralt last month that seemed to last nearly the entire trek from Ellander to Vizima). Geralt picks a spot with some natural cover, far enough from the road to protect them from roving bandits, and begins removing Roach’s tack.

“—the utter churlish ingratitude of it all astounds me, truly, I’d love to see our dear Master We-Don’t-Serve-Your-Kind handle it himself next time a wraith starts to slaughter any who try to use the well after sundown!”

Jaskier is forced by physical necessity to take a breath, and Geralt seizes his opportunity to set the conversation to rest. “It doesn’t matter.”

Silence had been the goal, but he knows Jaskier well enough to know this isn’t the blissful quietude of the bard dropping it. He sighs and turns toward Jaskier, who is staring at him, mouth agape, with an expression stuck between disbelief and fury. “I’m sorry,” the boy says finally, fixing Geralt with a glare, “did you just say it doesn’t matter?”

And Jaskier is young, young and full of youthful pride, youthful expectations; more than that, he’s not a witcher. He’s travelled with Geralt on and off for the past two years, and while he’s seen traces, the witcher has tried to shield him from the brunt of these everyday indignities he’s met with. Jaskier hadn’t been in Blaviken, hadn’t witnessed decades of casual and humiliating and hateful and snarling dismissals that have hardened Geralt, changed Geralt, numbed Geralt. “It doesn’t matter,” he repeats. He stops his preparations for their camp and looks Jaskier in the eye. If the boy’s set on traveling with him, it’s best he understands. “Wraith’s dead. The alderman paid what we agreed, didn’t complain about the price or try to shortchange me. It was a success. The rest doesn’t matter.”

There’s a look Geralt can’t quite parse brewing on Jaskier’s face as the witcher speaks, seeming to vacillate wildly between frustrated and wrathful and agonized and so many other feelings, too many for Geralt to track, too complex to analyze from the muddled, conflicting scent. They’re close, he realizes suddenly, and he isn’t sure when that happened but they’re close and he can taste the confused feelings in the air between them, the metallic panic and the acrid fury and the brackish tears that haven’t fallen but threaten to, building in spite of the bard’s best efforts. “It matters,” Jaskier insists, a broken hitch in his voice, and then he’s kissing Geralt.

And maybe Geralt shouldn’t be surprised, but he is, somehow. He’s noticed the lust, of course. It had been there at their first meeting, the sharp, earthy scent, strong but not unpleasant. It had been almost flattering, though not nearly so flattering as it was overwhelming; but then it had spiked again nearly as intensely when Filavandrel entered the cave as they sat bound together, beaten and bruised, then later that night when a barmaid’s fingers brushed his as she handed him his ale, a coy smile and the slightest tilt of the head to indicate Jaskier should follow her to the shadowed cellar. He’d followed her and come back, smelling of sex and sporting a dopey grin, singing the praises of women with the exhilarated bravado of an eighteen-year-old would-be libertine—women, Geralt, women, of all the gods’ creations upon this good earth can any compare to a woman? And that had been that.

But Jaskier is kissing him, a hard, frantic thing, his palm warm against Geralt’s jaw, the salt in the air growing thicker, not at all what Geralt would have imagined kissing Jaskier to be like (has imagined kissing Jaskier to be like, in the dead of night, sometimes, as the last embers of a campfire glow on soft pale skin, or at the look of absolute peace as he closes his eyes and breathes in the cool twilight air, or when the first rays of dawn flicker in his sleep-rumpled mess of tawny hair).

But Jaskier is distressed.

The bard pulls away with a sharp inhale, and the scents and tastes and expressions keep shifting erratically, and Geralt tries to keep track but can’t. It’s silent for a minute but for Jaskier’s uneven breaths and the gentle sounds of the forest. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, not looking at Geralt, and it’s the copper tang of fear now, something he’s never smelled once before on Jaskier, on this brave idiot who’s seen no end of havoc and slaughter at the hands of monsters and men since joining the witcher’s company and yet never smelled like fear in his presence before.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier repeats, and when he meets the witcher’s gaze there’s a flash of defiance there, now, “I shouldn’t have done that and if you no longer wish to travel with me I understand, I do, but it does matter, Geralt. It matters that that repugnant, contemptible prick thought he could throw you out like a mangy dog after you saved his pathetic life, all their pathetic lives. It matters that not a one of the other patrons offered a word in your defense. It matters that the songs aren’t enough, they aren’t doing enough, and it matters that this sort of abuse must be so very commonplace that you are, apparently, utterly unperturbed by the entire affair!”

Jaskier’s wrong, he knows that. It doesn’t matter how one small man treats a witcher. The Path is long and hard, and if scornful innkeepers and a night under the stars instead of a roof are the worst Geralt has to face then he is luckier than most. He’s no knight errant, no hero, no matter how gallant and romantic and chivalrous Jaskier insists he is in his ballads.

It doesn’t matter.

And yet.

Jaskier takes a shaky breath. He’s been staring, Geralt realizes belatedly, waiting for some sort of response, and now he seems to have taken silence as answer enough. “Right,” the bard says, nodding, swallowing, rubbing at his eyes wearily. “Suppose that’s my cue to make myself scarce, then.”

His chin trembles with the harsh set of his jaw, and Geralt can’t help reaching out, cupping his face gently with a strong, square hand, his sword-callused thumb rubbing soothingly over a smooth, pale cheek. He pulls Jaskier into a slow, tentative embrace, feeling the boy’s tension melt away in his arms, the copper tang dissolving into something sweet and familiar, something hopeful, something that smells like home.

Geralt tries to find the words. A rude backwoods innkeep doesn’t mean shit to him, but Jaskier jumping to his defense without the slightest hesitation does. Jaskier writing songs about him, about his selflessness, about his goodness—no matter how inaccurate, no matter how exaggerated—does. Jaskier looking at him like he’s something precious, something valuable, something worthy, does. Jaskier kissing him matters—certainly matters, and is certainly something Geralt is interested in investigating further—but Jaskier choosing to be with him, indignant and furious on his behalf, making his bed on the lumpy forest floor when he could have easily rented a room in that inn—matters even more.

Geralt doesn’t know how to say these things; the words sound trite and inadequate as he turns them about in his mind. But as he holds him close, their breath becoming one as they rock gently beneath the evening’s first stars, he thinks perhaps Jaskier understands nonetheless.

And if not, perhaps he’ll find the words tomorrow.

[once-upon-a-pirate-ship]

How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam 2/?

Story summary: Princess Emma isn't the princess of much anymore. It's been months since her parents and brother were taken, and she's been on the run with her godmother Red. When Emma and Red board a merchant vessel to sail to Arendelle, Emma quickly finds that the captain is not to be trusted. After helping two slave brothers, Emma takes over the ship and begins her journey to save and rebuild her kingdom.

Read it on AO3 | or start at the beginning

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Chapter 2: Trick of the Knife

word count: ~6k

Panic was a curious thing.

Emma liked to think that she was a rational person, that the years of guidance from her parents had taught her to keep her emotions in check. Sure, they’d told her to trust herself and her instincts, but being an effective ruler meant not getting carried away by intense feelings that had no bearing in reality.

Needless to say, it was frustrating for her to wake in the morning with a jolt of panic, for her mind to race the second consciousness gripped her, for her eyes to search frantically around the captain’s quarters for whatever it was she was missing. Because the clawing of fear in her stomach couldn’t have been her imagination.

Except it was.

Her sword was propped against her bunk just inches from her hand, her boots knocked over haphazardly where she’d kicked them off the night before. Everything else was exactly as it had been when she’d entered the cabin hours ago.

Emma fell back onto the bed, dropping her elbows from where they’d held her up in her attempt to locate some imaginary danger. She huffed, blinking up at the ceiling and trying to breathe deeply. It was a familiar process for her, convincing her mind and her body that she was safe for the moment; her anxiety was nothing more than the product of her current circumstances, of months on the run and the weight of the world crushing her bones.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bunk, closing her eyes to feel the gentle sway of the ship. She’d been pleasantly surprised to find that the sea calmed her—relieved that something could—because she hadn’t been sailing in years and another obstacle, no matter how trivial, might’ve been too much for her.

Emma had just managed to get her breathing under control when a knock came to the cabin door. She grabbed the sword on instinct before she went to open it.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Liam Jones said, a large tray balancing in his hands, “but I thought you might wish to break your fast.”

“As much as I appreciate the thought, I don’t expect you to bring me meals on a silver platter—or any platter, actually,” she replied, frowning as she examined the offering. “You’re not a servant or a cabin boy, Liam.”

He ducked his head, a habit he shared with his brother. “Aye, however, I simply wished to see to it myself that you were well fed,” he paused, waiting for her to let him in. When she simply narrowed her eyes at him, he added, “I know you reject gratitude, Emma, but I think getting my brother to sleep this long and break his stubborn streak warrants a proper thank you. It’s a feat, honestly.”

She sighed, stepping back to allow him entrance. “Okay, just don’t make a habit of it.” She watched him set it on the table, her lips pushing into a tight line. “You’ve brought me too much,” she admonished. “Would you care to join me?”

Liam shifted his feet, moving half a step back and away from her. “I—I couldn’t, besides, I’ve had my ration already this morning.”

“And I suppose you never give any of yours to your brother to ensure that he’s well taken care of,” she shot back, raising a knowing eyebrow. It’s what she’d do, if Leo were there. “Sit, eat, tell me how we’re faring today,” she encouraged as she took the closest chair and leaned her sword against it, and there was only a slight edge of a command in her tone.

Liam didn’t move right away, looking at her as if he were gauging whether or not he could win this one. After a moment, he relented, dropping into the place opposite her. “Eating with a princess,” he muttered, forcing his hand to take a piece of bread only after she’d taken some of the fruit for herself.

“Would it make you feel any better if I told you that my mother was a bandit and my father was a shepherd?”

His head shot up, and he nearly dropped the chunk of bread he’d been holding. “Pardon?”

Emma smiled, and for a moment she could almost hear her parents as they told her the story. One of their favorites, actually, and no matter how old she was, she never tired of it. It was something she repeated in her head over and over again lately, a grasping attempt at comfort when things got particularly difficult.

“When my mother was on the run from the Evil Queen, she became a bandit to survive. She taught me everything she knows about tracking, archery, all of it.” Emma couldn’t help the smile that pulled up the corners of her lips at this, the fighter her mother was beneath it all.

Liam took a moment to process that bit of information, making himself eat a little more of the bread under her firm gaze. “Are you trying to convince me that you’re not a typical princess?”

Emma chuckled, “I think I’ve already proven that.” She leaned forward, taking a roll for herself. “I’m trying to say that my parents have never liked to stand on ceremony, either. No, a meal with a sailor would hardly scandalize them.”

His mouth opened automatically but he forced it closed, and Emma could tell that he’d meant to correct her on her use of the word ‘sailor,’ but it was accurate now. She expected it to take a bit more time for them to break their habits.

“Did your father teach you to fence, or was that your mother, too?”

“My father,” she replied. “Put the first wooden sword in my tiny hands on my eighth birthday. I was tormenting the castle guards by the time I was eleven.” It’d been a long time since she’d thought about that, and the memories flashed in her mind before she could stop them.

Her laughter, bubbly and free like the child she was. Leo had been so small, his hands grasping the air as if to ask to hold her new gift. And then later, a heavier gift, one that was responsibility when she held it in her hand, promises to clean it and practice every day. The guard’s playful annoyance that steadily grew as she got more skilled, her parents’ mildly exasperated expressions that were too fond to be anything bad. Teaching her brother once he was old enough, his wide and curious eyes as he watched her and tried to mimic everything she did. All those days ended with wonderful soreness buried in her muscles that made her bed feel softer and her sleep come easier.

But those days were long gone.

Liam laughed, bringing her back to the present. “I suppose that isn’t surprising,” he said as he reached for an orange. “I’m no great swordsman myself, but Killian was quite impressed.”

The rock that had lodged itself in her gut disappeared with the mention of the younger Jones brother. “Oh?” She kept her eyes on her food, hoping that she sounded only mildly interested and not like her heart had done a flip in her chest.

“He was nearly raving about it yesterday evening,” Liam told her, fondness across every inch of his face and in every tone of his voice. “The particulars eluded me, but I’m to understand that some of your disarming techniques are incredibly impressive and difficult to master.”

Emma hummed, her expression nearly nonchalant despite the pride that took root in her stomach. Pride and something else, something she couldn’t quite name. It only took a moment for her to pick up on the odd shift in the silence.

“Is something wrong?” she asked Liam, glancing up at him across the table where he seemed to be thinking too hard.

“No, no,” he insisted, shaking his head to dissipate the haze of contemplation. “Your father was a shepherd? I thought he was a prince,” Liam said.

“That’s what you’re supposed to think,” she replied, “because King George adopted his twin brother James as his heir.”

“Isn’t your father King James?”

“His name is David, actually,” she told him. “George didn’t want people to know that James was dead. It’s not exactly something they’d announce to the realm after all that, though. It’s all a bit complicated.”

Liam nodded, and Emma was good enough at reading people to recognize the connections he was making in his mind that shone through his blue eyes. They were perhaps a bit grayer than his brother’s, and their expressions were different enough that it often seemed to her that they were different shades entirely.

“I hadn’t heard about your family,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking up to her from the orange peel he worked off. “I’m sorry.”

It was more than just their capture that he referred to, this much was obvious. Red was the only one who was privy to anything more specific, so Emma didn’t have to wonder at the source of this knowledge.

“It’s likely just a sleeping curse variation with my parents, but we’re unsure what was used on Leo. His curse is…different.” Cruel was the word she wanted to use, but that wouldn’t help anything. And it wasn’t as if the Evil Queen had laid out the exact parameters of the curse when she’d found her. But that wasn’t something Emma wanted to think about.

“How old is he?”

“Sixteen,” she replied, her lips pulling up on one side without her consent. “Seventeen in a few months, though.” She didn’t have to add that she hoped to see him before then.

Perhaps it was because Liam was an older sibling himself that the melancholy filled the air so intensely; a lost brother was hardly something they wished to discuss thoroughly. Emma’s appetite vanished as she played with the roll in her hands, unable to bring herself to eat it.

“You will save them, Emma. You will succeed,” he insisted, “and Killian and I will do whatever we can to help you along the way. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Liam,” she said. “I find myself desperately in need of allies these days, and it’s a relief to know I’ve got good men on my side.”

Liam flushed, but he carried on admirably. “And when we reach port tomorrow, we’ll replace the, um, less desirable men with trustworthy ones. A handful, at least, if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

“I appreciate that,” she replied. “Red is quite the charmer, you should bring her along.”

“Already asked her myself this morning,” he told her. “Terry’s arranged a group to oversee supplies while I accompany Lady Red in the search.”

Nearly everything had already been taken care of for her, though Emma did not feel like an inadequate captain. The title was more symbolic than anything, and her parents would have been proud at her efficient delegation of duties.

“I’ll remain behind to watch the ship.”

“Killian’s volunteered to stay, too, which should provide ample protection should anyone attempt anything foolish.”

If every mention of the younger Jones was going to torment her stomach with that flock of butterflies, Emma was going to have a difficult journey. “Alright,” she said, squashing down the fluttering feeling.

When Liam realized she’d finished, he stood quickly, as if it went against his honor to tarry when there was work to be done. “Thank you for breakfast, Captain,” he said as he reached for the tray, but her sharp gaze made him stop. “I’ll, um, just return to relieve Lady Red at the helm,” he told her.

“Perfect,” Emma replied, “I’ll be on deck shortly.”

He did not bow when he left her cabin, but there was a distinct nod of his head that felt like the equivalent of one. Emma let it slide, closing the door behind him to secure the lock so she could dress for the day without interruption.

The new trunk sat at the end of her bed, Red’s bag of belongings noticeably absent from it. She sighed as she considered how it had gotten there, knowing the answer would certainly irritate her. Emma pulled her leather satchel from the trunk, deciding that it just wasn’t practical enough to use. She considered offering it to Killian and Liam, but they’d never accept it.

Emma pulled on the dark leather pants and that blue vest that she loved too much, preparing for the day she was expecting and the one she wasn’t. This meant sliding the blades into their hiding places and tucking several things in her pockets that one may not have deemed entirely necessary, but she’d learned that having to leave abruptly was not uncommon, and she hated replacing things she’d had to leave behind. Much of her downtime was spent sewing hidden pockets into her clothes, but she never minded the monotony.

She replaced her boots, ensuring that her dagger was in its place before securing the sword against her hip. The weight was so familiar now, she felt lopsided when it wasn’t there unless she was using it. Once her hair was tied up and out of the way, she left her cabin to return the tray to the galley.

It didn’t take long for her to reach her destination, but the voices that carried from the galley made her pause around the corner, leaning against the wall as her breath held to prevent an early reveal of her location.

“She is our princess and our captain, in case you need reminding, and you will do well not to forget it again.” This was Killian; she’d recognize his lilting accent anywhere. But his tone was harsher than she’d ever heard it, hinting to his listener that there was no argument.

His words were met with dark, throaty chuckles from more than one person. “Oh, aye, that slip of a girl would make us regret it, would she? No amount of sword tricks will save her if I decide to cross blades with her,” a man replied.

“She ain’t that skilled, boy, really,” another said, sharp and teasing.

Killian simply laughed. “You must not have been watching yesterday, then. None of us have ever seen a swordsman like that and you know it,” he told them. To him, this was obvious. His praise wasn’t fluff and flattery, it was fact, and Emma was torn between considering what this meant to her and focusing on the problem at hand.

“Awe, does the little slave boy have a crush?”

“Wishing for a peek under her skirts, laddie?”

“This won’t end well for you,” a third voice said.

All pleasant thoughts vanished from Emma’s mind at their taunts and threats and use of the word slave, and her plan was formed before she even had time to think about it. Disrespecting a captain was about a step away from a mutiny attempt, and she couldn’t ignore that, nor could she ignore her desire to prove these men wrong.

When their laughter died out, Emma stepped into the galley and greeted them with a smile so sweet it was poisonous. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, her eyes scanning the scene.

Killian stood tall with crossed arms nearest to her, while the three men grumbled from where they were grouped by the end of the table. They shifted their feet and seemed somewhat annoyed at her appearance, but Killian was too perceptive, staring at her as he waited for whatever she had planned.

Emma took her time setting the tray on the table, pretending to adjust her vest for a moment before bringing her right boot on the bench. Her hand lingered by her laces as if to fix them, and though she was aware of the eyes on her, she did not look up until she slid the blade from her boot.

The dagger glinted even in the low light, her thumb brushing fondly along the design on the hilt. She smiled at the three men as she returned her foot to the ground.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked them, holding it out for them to see, warning dripping from her sweet tone. “It was a gift from my father, a present for my sixteenth birthday. Had the swan made special for me,” she added, smiling at the silver bird. Vicious and beautiful.

“Until a few months ago, this blade had never touched blood,” she said, her voice even, calm, unremarkable as her thumb moved to edge to metal. But in a second her grip shifted and the dagger sliced through the air in a show of speed and agility, though it might have been to test the balance or the weight. “Since then, I’ve had to do a lot of cleaning, and you know princesses—we hate to clean up after ourselves.” It didn’t matter that this wasn’t particularly true in her experience, she wished to make the point all the same.

Her lips curled up higher as she glanced between the traitorous men. “So either you can keep your heads down and work until you’re put off this ship tomorrow, or I’ll have to clean this dagger again.”

“Or there’s always the brig,” Killian added helpfully. His mouth was twisted in a smile that was half threatening and half proud of the woman before him.

“There is, isn’t there?” Emma asked, pretending to think on it. “Getting a bit crowded, though. Might be better off not facing Silver after all that has happened,” she mused, appraising the three crewmen again.

Two didn’t move, attempting to keep their expressions firm and unyielding as their chests puffed and their shoulders broadened, but the smallest—and smartest, if anyone were to ask Emma—looked between them before stepping forward.

“We’ll stay out of trouble,” he decided.

Killian and Emma turned expectantly to the others, but they did not even react at their friend’s announcement. They kept their fierce gazes on Emma, but this wasn’t anything she hadn’t planned for.

“It must be my parents’ reputation of benevolence that hasn’t convinced you,” she sighed, “but I can assure you, I do what I have to do to survive. And if you decide to get between me and a chance to save my kingdom and my family…” She didn’t need to finish, and her words thickened the air with her thinly-veiled threat.

“Come on, Evans, Blake,” the smart one told them, “don’t be fools. We can leave tomorrow.”

It was in this moment when Emma’s free hand moved behind her, edging the leather as she waited for the two men to make their move. Her movement was too gentle, too slow to draw anyone’s attention, and her body appeared relaxed and devoid of tension though she was prepared for what was to come.

It only took about thirty seconds before the fools moved, pushing past their friend and lunging towards her. But the distance was enough that time was on her side, and Killian charged the one closer to him—Blake—as the small throwing blade left her hand before Evans could even register what she was doing.

The slim knife whipped through the air with the perfect spin, and her lips almost twisted into a smile as she watched it connect with his palm, slamming dead in the center and dragging him back so it could pin him to the wooden wall he’d barely had time to step away from.

Evans cried out in shock and pain, predictable curses falling from his mouth as he stared wide-eyed at his hand, his uninjured one reaching to grab the handle, but he cursed again when it moved.

Killian had done exactly as Emma anticipated, and his opponent was knocked onto his back, the sword at his throat. But both Killian’s and Blake’s eyes were on the knife that stuck into flesh and wood.

“Bloody hell,” Killian muttered, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Emma. “I didn’t know you could do that,” he said.

“I’m full of surprises,” she replied, sliding another blade from one of the hidden panels in the front of her vest to show him before pushing it back into place.

“And weapons, apparently,” he chuckled.

Emma grinned, returning her dagger to her boot. She preferred not to use it, honestly, but more because she didn’t want to damage it rather than a dislike of cleaning it. But with her throwing knives, this particular kind of fight was easily taken care of without even having to move from a strategic spot. She could get the higher ground—or the place with the best escape plan, in her case—and hold onto it.

Evans was still moaning in pain, though he’d begun to spout insults at her between curses. It was easy enough for her to ignore him as she approached and drew her sword, yanking the knife from his hand without hesitating or even attempting to be gentle. He groaned, crouching as he brought his wounded hand into his body to cradle it, but the hilt of her sword temporarily put him out of his misery when he toppled to the ground.

Killian took this as permission to do the same with Blake, and he was looking to her for direction as she turned to him.

“I suppose the brig will have to do,” she said.

The other crewman moved right away, hauling the man in front of her over his shoulder without waiting for her to ask. He’d already wanted to avoid conflict, and after seeing her other skills, he wasn’t eager to incur her wrath.

She stopped Killian from lifting Blake with a raise of her hand. “Don’t. I’ll get someone else to do it,” she told him. “I have to get Red anyway, she’s got the keys to the brig. Just wait here with him,” she added, hoping her tone and the intensity of her gaze would prevent him from arguing.

Their eyes locked, tension snapping between them that had nothing to do with anger or his wanting to protest. But she had no time to decipher the look, and she sheathed her sword, tucking the bloodied blade into its spot at the back of her vest.

“Good,” she said, “don’t move.”

She only had to wait a moment for his nod before she turned, heading towards the deck without stopping to analyze every word and expression she’d seen from Killian during the last few minutes.

The atmosphere on deck was lively, the fair weather and the absence of the more miserable sailors making for a pleasanter mood than she’d felt on the ship thus far. There was laughter in the air, camaraderie amongst the crew as they worked on their various duties. They were down in numbers, but even that wasn’t enough to dissolve the jovial spirit following Silver’s loss of power.

Red stood at the helm, Liam at her side likely trying to convince her to give up her post and let him work instead. But there was no animosity in their manners, only evidence of their rapidly developing friendship as Red rolled her eyes at whatever Liam said.

Emma reached them quickly, ignoring their pleasantries and turning to Red. “Killian and I ran into some trouble in the galley,” Emma said, “if you’ll kindly bring the keys, the two men can join their friends in the brig.”

“Of course,” Red replied, glancing at Liam with a raised eyebrow as something unspoken passed between them, then he replaced her when she moved to head below.

“Oh, and don’t let Killian carry the man himself, please,” Emma called. “He’ll reopen his wound.”

Red’s lips curved into a smile. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

When she was gone, Emma turned back to Liam with the intention of uncovering the root of that look they’d shared, but the elder Jones was cool and kind as he offered her a smile.

“Thank you, Captain,” he said. “You seem to be making a habit of helping my brother and myself.”

Emma waved a hand dismissively, swallowing the discomfort that followed his gratitude. In recent weeks, she’d found it difficult to acknowledge praise or recognition no matter the subject. If she had to think about it, she’d probably trace it to her inadequacy and failure in saving her kingdom, her people, or her family, so she found it much better to not think about it at all.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, glancing around the deck to study the differences in the crew, watching for the way they worked together. It was easier to think like this, to plan and strategize rather than focus on dangerous things like emotions and honor and everything else.

“It’s not,” Liam insisted.

“I’d like your help tomorrow after you and Red find new crew members,” Emma said suddenly, the change in topic not subtle at all but the request of his assistance was a carrot that dangled before him.

“Whatever you need, Captain.”

Emma, she mentally corrected. But he was probably better off using her rank on deck where the others could hear, at least until they could bring in some of their own sailors.

“I’d like for you and Killian to assist me in bringing Silver to the local authorities,” she told him, and his eyes darkened. “As far as I’m aware, these waters don’t take too kindly to slavers, either.”

Liam’s grip tightened on the helm, but he otherwise kept his expression neutral. “Killian and I would be happy to join you.”

“As I suspected you would be,” she replied. With a nod, she left him to his post, finding Terry across the deck so she could discuss their replenishment of supplies the following day. Though her captaincy was flimsy at best, she still wished to lend her aid in whatever way she could.

--

For the second night in a row, Emma found herself at the helm. It wasn’t nearly as late, however, the golden sky just beginning to turn to a deep blue that didn’t yet hold any stars. She watched, waiting patiently for the pinpricks of light to appear overhead.

The day had been long, filled with people needing things and asking questions and there wasn’t a moment in which she could ponder things like tense gazes or proud smiles. But perhaps gazes and smiles shouldn’t have been high on her list of priorities.

She pulled out the flask from inside her vest, unscrewing it to take a sip. Before a few months ago, Emma hadn’t cared much for rum. But now she relished in the familiar burn as it dragged down her throat and eased some of the tension in her body. She froze with the flask poised for her second sip when the ship creaked.

“I don’t suppose you’d share,” a voice called.

Emma watched as Killian approached, her eyes scanning his face for anything or everything. “As long as you’re not here to convince me to give up my shift,” she said dryly.

He chuckled, “No, love. I know that the Lady Red is set to relieve you in a few hours. I simply wanted to speak with you regarding our earlier confrontation in the galley, since we’ve had not a moment to ourselves since the whole ordeal.”

She willed her stomach to unknot itself as she passed him the flask, unable to stop herself from following his movements. His fingers nearly grazed hers when he took it, close enough that she could feel the heat from his skin. Killian’s head angled up and to the side, revealing the column of his neck as he drank.

“Good rum,” he commented, returning the flask.

She accepted it, taking another small sip before replacing the cap and returning it to her inner pocket. “Does that surprise you?” she wondered, but she couldn’t determine why she cared.

“That a princess has good rum?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers. She couldn’t see the color in the growing darkness, but she’d already spent enough time studying them to imagine the exact shade now. “I don’t know about other princesses, but it doesn’t surprise me that you have good rum, Captain.”

If she’d heard only the words, she would’ve been incapable of determining whether or not this particular statement was a compliment, but in his tone, there was no question. But he’d come on deck for a reason, and it wasn’t likely to be to issue compliments and nothing else.

“I hope you’re not here to insist that you could’ve handled things on your own in the galley today,” she said. She doubted it, especially after his expression before she’d left, but he was known to be stubborn, so it was plausible. Maybe.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied. “While perhaps I could’ve handled them myself, I’m incredibly relieved that I didn’t have to. I would’ve torn some stitches, I’m sure, and I’d hate to get on my captain’s bad side.”

Emma hummed, glancing up at the sky to check for the appearance of stars rather than looking at the ones in his gaze. “I’m glad.”

“And I was also going to tell you that you—Your Highness, Captain, Princess Emma—can be bloody terrifying when you want to be,” he told her. He was grinning when she finally looked over at him, his eyes glimmering far too much for the fading light.

“As I said, I do what I have to do to survive. And if my parents can’t get past that once I’ve saved them, I can always abdicate the throne. Leo would make a good king.” It was true, she knew, but it didn’t hurt her any less to say it. Too much blood had been spilled since that terrible day, but she couldn’t very well save the damn kingdom if she was dead, could she?

“But you would make a fantastic queen,” he said firmly. “And if I recall correctly, your parents took their throne back from the Evil Queen once before. That couldn’t have been done without some difficult choices.”

“Maybe,” she allowed. But he didn’t know her parents—very few did—and their constant insistence that violence was always a last resort and there was always a choice when it came to taking another’s life…she wasn’t sure that they would welcome her back into their family as openly as she wished.

Emma cleared her throat. “But maybe not. Either way, they trained me to be lethal. Fair, yes, but as you’ve seen, I can take a life just as easily as I could pardon one.” She could hear them now, the sword is not equal to the gavel, Emma, and when given the choice, put down your sword before ending a life.

Killian shifted, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m not sure your parents would agree with me, but I believe that there are certain people for whom pardoning isn’t possible. Saving someone who could take hundreds, possibly thousands of lives if they escape—” he paused, his lips turning down into a sharp frown. “Well, perhaps I’ve seen too much to judge fairly.”

Or perhaps her parents hadn’t seen enough to judge rationally, though Emma wasn’t about to raise the issue to them upon their rescue.

“I would’ve killed her,” Emma said, her voice strangled. Killian’s eyebrows pinched together, and she sighed. “The Evil Queen. If I had been there all those years ago, I wouldn’t have just stopped her and exiled her. I would’ve killed her. If my mother or my father had, they wouldn’t be cursed now. Leo wouldn’t be cursed now. And more than that, my kingdom wouldn’t be ransacked, and my people wouldn’t have been murdered or chased from their homes.”

Though her voice had been bitter when she spoke, the words were not rash or thoughtless. Every night that she’d been forced to remain awake for survival, she’d considered this. Wondered at her parents’ choices, weighed them against her own. She was never able to determine who was in the right, however.

“You worry that when you save them, they won’t understand,” Killian said, and it should’ve been a question, but it wasn’t. “That they’ll disagree.”

“I don’t care,” she said, and she wished it were true. If only she didn’t care, didn’t honestly believe that the look her parents would give her upon their rescue would break her beyond repair, didn’t think that their disappointment in her would be a curse in its own right.

Emma sighed, not even trying to relax her grip on the wheel. “The Evil Queen would kill my brother if she could, and that’s enough for me. If my parents hold it against me, I’ll abdicate, as I said before.” The words were rational, emotionless, but the storm of doubt and hopelessness swirled in her chest.

“You shouldn’t abdicate,” he repeated, his gaze unfaltering. “Emma the Swan Queen,” he murmured, and the way he said it was almost like a reflex, a thought that passed his lips automatically.

It made her eyebrow quirk. “Swan Queen?”

Killian ducked his head, his hand running through his dark hair. “Aye, like the dagger. Elegant and beautiful, but deadly when provoked. Fitting, don’t you think?” When his eyes locked with hers again, his lips curled into the smallest half-smile.

“I don’t hate it,” she allowed, and his smile widened. “Now I just have to save and rebuild the kingdom, and then perhaps they can call me that. Well, it’d have to be the Swan Princess first, at least.”

“You’ll do it,” he said, though his tone was more befitting of a vow. Emma wished she could bottle his belief in her, keep it and uncork it when she couldn’t believe in herself.

Her breath had snagged in her throat, but she spoke anyway. “I certainly have a better shot with you and your brother to help.”

Killian waved a hand dismissively. “You could do it without us.”

“Sure, but as you said earlier,” she replied, “although I could do it alone, I’m relieved I don’t have to.”

That tension returned from before, electricity snapping against her skin beneath Killian’s gaze. If she’d had less on her mind, she could’ve understood what it all meant, but all she knew was that it was somehow both pleasant and unnerving and she never wanted to look away.

“If we thought for a moment that you’d let us, Liam and I would pledge you our fealty in the manner befitting your title.”

This, Emma knew, was no small declaration. She’d seen soldiers lay their swords at her mother’s feet, their heads bowed as they sealed their promises to fight and die for the queen and her kingdom. It was something she’d never gotten used to, and she never would, should she one day take her mother’s place.

The depth in Killian’s eyes told her he knew exactly what he was saying, and after a moment he spoke again. “We may be mere sailors, hardly making up for your lost navy, but we’ll fight with everything we have.”

She heard the words he did not say and quickly offered her own opinion on the matter. “Mere sailors who also happen to be talented swordsmen and navigators,” she pointed out.

“Ah, a bit of luck,” Killian said. “Our captain before Silver was the best we’d had, and we sailed with him for about five years. He offered to teach us valuable skills, and we were eager to learn. Liam dedicated himself to navigation, insisting on bettering our future prospects so we could perhaps one day join the navy.”

“But you wanted to learn to fight,” she guessed. “Fight and survive.”

“Aye,” he confirmed. “But Nemo made sure we each learned some of both endeavors to manage on our own.”

There was enough in his voice and in his face for Emma to determine that the tale ended with grief. “Sounds like he was a good man,” she said.

“One of the greatest I’ve ever known.”

The silence that followed Killian’s story was not uncomfortable, and the two sat together as the stars glowed more brilliantly above them. Despite the pleasant tension that continued to buzz in the surrounding air and the sensation that curled in the pit of Emma’s stomach, she was painfully aware that some things would have to wait.

“We’ve a busy day tomorrow,” she began reluctantly, “you should rest while you can.”

“Aye,” he breathed, but he made no move to leave. His eyes did not falter from hers, either, as if he wished to prolong their moment for as long as he could. Eventually, he realized what he was doing, and Emma imagined the color that touched his cheeks and the tips of his ears in the darkness.

A smile ghosted his lips as he began to leave. “Good night, Captain Swan,” he said.

“Captain Swan?” she repeated, her brows furrowing.

He paused, meeting her gaze once more. “If you insist you’re not yet the Swan Princess, then I believe that makes you our Captain Swan.”

She considered that, studying his eyes like they held the answers she sought. “Good night, Killian,” she said after a moment.

He nodded, turning to leave her at last. She watched him until he disappeared below.

In his absence, Emma was left to ponder the man who had begun to work his way beneath her skin. If she wasn’t careful, the butterflies would become something much bigger, more than just a stuttering heartbeat and a fluttering in her stomach. But as she stood beneath the infinite stars at the helm of this ship she now led in place of a kingdom, Emma wasn’t certain that she wanted to be careful.

[bigprettygothgf]

Why would u id as a commie when places North Korea exists lol. Are u that dumb or are u just being performative on tumblr to be relatable

Rabies is the fifth studio album by Skinny Puppy. It was released on November 21, 1989 through Nettwerk. The album notably features Ministry frontman Al Jourgensen (credited as Alien Jourgensen) who performed electric guitar and vocals on several songs. The album spawned two singles, "Tin Omen" and "Worlock", the latter of which becoming one of the band's most recognizable songs. The cover art was made by longtime Skinny Puppy collaborator Steven R. Gilmore. In 1993 the CD edition was reissued by Nettwerk to correct mastering errors in the original release.[1]

Rabies was a commercial success for the band, but received mixed reviews from critics upon release, several of whom drew parallels between the record and Ministry's style, both favorably and unfavorably. A joint tour with Ministry, KMFDM, and My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult, dubbed The Mutants of Rock Tour, was planned but ultimately cancelled when Skinny Puppy ended its commitment to the project.

Recording and production[edit]

Most of the band's previous albums had been mixed and produced by the group's "fourth member" Dave "Rave" Ogilvie. For Rabies, lead singer/songwriter Nivek Ogre brought in friend and Ministry frontman, Al Jourgensen. Ogre had met Jourgensen during the recording of the PTP song "Show Me Your Spine" in 1987. Ogre later toured with Ministry (Ogre can be seen and heard on the In Case You Didn't Feel Like Showing Up video and CD) and would also go on to provide vocals for Jourgensen's side project Revolting Cocks.[2][3] The other two members of Skinny Puppy, cEvin Key (drummer) and Dwayne Goettel (keyboardist/synthesist), did not approve of Jourgensen's takeover, creating a "glacial coldness" between the band members.[4][5] A couple years following the release of Rabies, Key mentioned to Alternative Press that he believed Jourgensen's motive for assisting in the album's production was to try and break up Skinny Puppy.[5]

Much of the album had been written before Jourgensen was officially involved, though Key has mentioned that the process was influenced by the notion that Jourgensen might join them in the studio to "jam." The group took into consideration what type of music Jourgensen would be interested in making, thus writing guitar heavy material such as "Tin Omen,"[5] a song which makes reference to the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989.[6] "Fascist Jock Itch," also written with Jourgensen in mind,[5] was inspired by an incident between Ogre and a few skinheads. Ogre states that he had been approached by the skinheads who then proceeded to question him regarding his "loyalty towards communism" (prompted by a small Red star on his pants). Feeling threatened, Ogre pushed one of them away and a short scuffle ensued.[3] Other songs on the album, such as "Worlock" and "Choralone," have been described as being more "pure" to previous Skinny Puppy material.[5] The song "Hexonxonx," a song which criticizes the use of oil (written in the aftermath of the Exxon Valdez oil spill of 1989),[7] has been described as being an exemplary mixture of "twisted humor and Throbbing Gristle-like experimentation", while other entries from the album have been noted for their novel use of sampling.[8]

The song "Worlock" has been played on every tour after its conception. A Roland Harmonizer was used to create the vocoder-effect during the chorus. Samples of the song "Helter Skelter" by the Beatles are mixed with an excerpt of Charles Manson singing the song;[9] the excerpt comes from the 1973 documentary Manson.[10]

Release and promotion[edit]

The original CD release on Nettwerk (and the licensed version on Capitol) was mistakenly mastered with Dolby B noise reduction, which resulted in a muffled sound. In 1993, the album was digitally remastered and re-released on Nettwerk.[1]

Only one promotional video was produced for Rabies. The "Worlock" video was primarily a rhythmically edited string of horror movie clips featuring outtakes and clips from the band's earlier video, "Stairs and Flowers" (from the album Mind: The Perpetual Intercourse). The video, which opens with a "Rated X" graphic, was intended to be a critique of the concept of censorship in America.[3] Many of the movie clips featured in the video were from films made by controversial Italian filmmaker Dario Argento, whose work has a reputation for being heavily censored by US distributors in order to gain "R-Ratings" from the MPAA.[11] For the "Worlock" video Skinny Puppy included footage deleted from the US versions of such Argento films as Deep Red, Suspiria, Tenebrae, Phenomena, and Opera. Other films included in the music video include, The Beyond, Hellbound: Hellraiser II, Bad Taste, Dead and Buried, Luther The Geek, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, From Beyond, Death Warmed Up, Eraserhead and Altered States.

Due to the graphic violence of the horror film clips used in the video, and also copyright violations, "Worlock" was subsequently banned by MTV, and did not receive any television airplay.[12] In 1992, Skinny Puppy released a compilation of their music videos, but "Worlock" was noticeably absent. According to Nettwerk, the video was omitted partially due to copyright problems and also because of concern the video would be banned by other countries which might find the video's content obscene.[citation needed] However, in recent years the video has been widely bootlegged among fans on the Internet. "Backing" videos for "Tin Omen" and "Choralone" were produced for the Too Dark Park tour in 1990, and have also been spread on the Internet.

A limited run of promotional mechanical pencils were made and sent to college (and possibly other) radio stations along with the album. Shaped like a syringe the pencils were white with black lettering "SKINNY [PUPPY]" and white on black lettering "RABIES". They were approximately 4 inches in length.

The Mutants of Rock Tour, which was to include a quadruple bill including Skinny Puppy, Ministry, KMFDM, and My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult, was to begin on December 27, 1989. However, according to Key, the tour was called off when Skinny Puppy collectively decided to pull out, citing concerns regarding the band's then uncertain situation. Key suggested a potential line of shows for the summer of 1990, but expressed little faith in any tour supporting Rabies ever happening.[13] Ogre ultimately joined Ministry's tour for The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste.[14]

Critical reception

Since the album's release, reception from both critics and fans has been mixed. Alternative Press said Rabies was more of a Skinny Puppy/Ministry hybrid and was not representative of the group's best work.[5]

Tim DiGravina from Allmusic stated that Rabies was a solid release, even though he felt the band was not performing "at their peak". He goes on to praise the album's implementation of movie dialogue, particularly commending its use in the songs "Worlock", "Tin Omen", and "Rivers". DiGravina was, however, less impressed by Jourgensen's contributions, asserting that the same qualities which made The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste a good album were not suitable for Rabies.[8] Trey Spencer from Sputnikmusic was less favorable, calling the record one of the group's "low points". He was critical of the album's use of simple (and sometimes "formless") song structures and claimed that the sampling brought nothing meaningful to the table. Spencer was more receptive to the song "Worlock", calling it the band's "defining moment", but concludes by saying that "the rest of the album consists of two good Industrial Metal songs, three average songs, and five songs that aren’t worth wasting your time on".[18]

Beth Fertig of The Boston Globe panned the album as "just another festering collection of noise", but pointed out the use of humor on songs such as "Fascist Jock Itch" as a positive element of the band's music.[15] Daniel Lukes of Kerrang! said that despite a "handful of undeniably classic tracks", the album comes across more as a collection of "Ministry B-sides" than a typical Skinny Puppy record.[16]

In a positive review from the Los Angeles Times, writers Jonathan Gold and David Kendrick list Rabies as an essential industrial album, calling it a "slightly atypical" offering that "also rocks a little harder".[17] This sentiment was echoed by CMJ's Brad Filicky, who called the album "a masterpiece of the industrial genre".[21] Jean Carey of the Tampa Bay Times praised the album, calling attention to the use of sampling, the song "Worlock", and Ogre's vocal work, which was compared to a "crazed Jimmy Durante". Carey concluded by saying that "Skinny Puppy's willingness to experiment and change makes [Rabies] well worth a listen".[19] Mark Jenkins of the Washington Post thought the album was less theatrical than their previous efforts, but concluded that the album's "groove is as solid as any the Puppy has ever fetched".[20]

Personnel[edit]

Nivek Ogre (vocals)

cEvin Key (production, engineering, mixing, various instruments)

Dwayne Goettel (production, engineering, mixing, various instruments)

Dave Ogilvie (production, engineering, mixing, backing vocals)

Al Jourgensen (production, engineering, mixing, guitar, additional vocals)

Greg Reely (additional engineering, special thanks)

Marc Ramaer (additional engineering, mixing)

Ken Marshall (additional engineering)

Cyan Meeks (vocals and lyrics on "Rain")

Keith Auerbach (mixing on "Fascist Jock Itch")

Jeff Newell (mixing on "Fascist Jock Itch")

[avatarnao]

A Million Dreams CH. 4

Pairing: Zukka, Kataang

Soulmate AU, College AU, Roommate AU

First, Previous, Next

A03

******

Monday

“My own nephew! Can you believe it?”

“Iroh’s in rare form today,” Suki comments, leaning closer to Sokka so they can speak quietly. Sokka huffs out a laugh and he can’t help but agree. Their professor paces back and forth at the front of the lecture all, ranting and raving about his nephew’s latest antics. “What’s got him riled up today?”

“He said tea was just hot leaf water,” Sokka fills her in, because Suki is consistently fifteen minutes late every class. It probably has something to do with her insane schedule and a class before this that’s on the opposite end of campus. He knows she must sprint to get to this class as on time as possible.

To be fair, his nephew is technically right. Not that Sokka would ever voice that outloud and to their professor. He’s pretty sure he’d fail immediately and be kicked out of class for the rest of the semester.

This class is only an elective and he’s taking it pass/fail but still…

Suki has that look on her face saying she agrees with his nephew but is wisely choosing to remain silent.

“Um… Professor?” someone chimes in from the front row. Iroh stops mid rant and turns to the student with a patient smile. “Not that this isn’t a good story but… what does this have to do with different types of plants?”

Professor Iroh stares at the student for a painfully long moment before rocking back on his heels with a laugh. He smacks his forward and moves over to his laptop to change to the next slide.

“Not all tea is made from the leaves of a plant,” he explains. On the screen is an image of two flowers. “The white dragon bush is known for producing a tea so delicious it’s heartbreaking. It requires the use of the flower and the leaves. They grow all over the eastern part of the Earth Kingdom, but be careful not to mistake the white jade bush for the white dragon bush for it is highly poisonous.”

Iroh gestures to the images of nearly identical flowers. “The one on the left is the white dragon and the one on the right is the white jade…” He pauses, squinting at the slide, and humming thoughtfully. “Or perhaps it’s the other way around…”

Sokka groans, sinking into his seat with a frown. Of course their professor can’t even tell the difference on a subject he’s supposedly an expert in….

“We have a saying for those plants on Kyoshi Island,” Suki comments. Her pen taps against the desk in thought as Iroh mutters to himself. “Delicious and rare is ruby red, but eat the white flower and you’ll be dead.” Sokka snorts.

“ That’s what you guys came up with?” he teases, though he makes a note of the saying. Never know what it might come in handy.

“It was part of the warriors’ survival training,” she tells him.

“No matter!” Iroh suddenly declares. “The plant is exceptionally rare so it’s unlikely for you to encounter it out in nature. If you do, however, accidentally consume the poisonous one, the antidote lies within the bacui berry.” He pauses again, thinking. “Or was it the maka’ole berry?”

Sokka groans again, sinking back into his seat.

Maybe he should’ve signed up for a different class….

Tuesday

Sokka’s nursing what is guaranteed to be a migraine come morning as he steps up to Katara’s place and gives a firm knock.The door slides open and he’s greeted with the wide-eyed gaze of Aang’s pet lemur.

“Hi, Momo,” he greets, frowning a little in confusion. Why is Momo answering the door? When did Momo even figure out how to open the door? Isn’t going out the window easier for the creature? “Are Aang and Katara here?”

Momo just blinks at him, chitters something, then swoops further into the house. Sokka follows him inside. He can hear the very muffled but very distinct yelling that is his sister’s voice. Her words may be indecipherable but Sokka’s been on the receiving end of that tone, and he’s not about to disturb that rant.

Instead, Sokka makes himself comfortable on the couch and turns the TV, idly flipping through channels for something to watch. Eventually, the yelling dies down, and Toph shuffles out of her room to join him on the couch.

“Do I even want to know what’s going on?” he asks her and she shrugs.

“Her and Sparky got into an argument at practice today,” Toph replies.

“Sparky?” Sokka mutters before the rest of her response clicks. “Wait… you’re on the team too? Why am I just now finding out about this?”

“They just announced who the starting benders would be, and today was our first day practicing together.” Oh… he supposes that makes sense… though why didn’t Katara say anything about Toph being on the team? Then again, they haven’t had much time for sibling bonding lately. They’ve both been kind of busy....

A frustrated sigh comes from the hall, and Sokka twists around to find Katara and Aang stepping into the room. Katara levels Toph with a disappointed frown.

“I told you not to put your feet on the table, Toph,” she snaps coming to a stop beside the couch. Her hands fall to her waist. “You’re getting it dirty.”

Sokka groans, head falling into his hand as the girls begin arguing over how clean their home should be. He came here to spend time with his sister and friends, not to listen to them argue. A flash of orange slides into his peripheral and Aang leans into his line of sight.

“Hey, Sokka,” he greets. His grin falls as he takes his friend in. “Are you okay?”

“Just a headache,” Sokka mutters, and Aang brightens.

“Oh! Do you want some medicine?”

There is nothing Sokka would love more than something to curb his headache. He eagerly follows Aang down the hall and away from the growing argument behind them.

“Have you been sleeping okay?” Aang asks as they enter an obscenely large bathroom. Sokka sits down on the toilet, taking in a space large enough to comfortably fit all four of them with room to spare.

“Midterms are coming up,” Sokka mumbles, shrugging. “So about as well as any student preparing for midterms.” Not to mention he’s been in the library every night until midnight trying to get a term paper done by Thursday. It’s mostly been Suki lecturing him for spending hours browsing the internet instead of researching or Zuko laughing at his horrible doodles. Sokka would be offended over the art student’s teasing but he’s just happy his roommate has decided to join their study sessions.

Logically, he knows he needs to start the paper, but the paper is nothing more than an in-depth analysis of Love Amongst the Dragons . He’s totally got that in the bag. There’s barely any research that needs to be done for it anyways, but Suki did spend a good forty-five minutes last night lecturing him on waiting until the last minute to get work done.

It’s not Sokka’s fault that he’s a master procrastinator… or that Zuko decided to join them and distract him with animal videos for hours on end.

Then there was that one night Zuko talked him into watching the mover based on the play and spent the whole time viciously tearing every detail apart. Sokka has no idea what the guy’s doing studying art when he should be a film critic. Zuko’s running commentary alone had Sokka in tears from laughing so hard. They’d had to pause at one point so Sokka could collect himself.

Okay... so maybe he’s been goofing off more than working but his paper is due on Thursday and that’s… two day away. He’s got plenty of time to work on it.

Sokka’s so lost in thought he doesn’t even realize Aang is speaking until pills are being put in front of his face. He blinks at Aang’s hand. Aang gives him a wide smile as he takes the medicine and downs it in one go.

“What was the question?” he asks.

“I was just wondering how your classes were going,” Aang says, not the least bit bothered over Sokka’s lack of attention. “Katara’s been spending a lot of time in her study lately, I guess for the same reason as you.” He shrugs. “Not that I really know what it’s like going to school.”

“Trust me,” Sokka tells him, rising from his seat. They begin making their way back to the girls. “I would take world adventures and experiences over reading about them in books.”

Unfortunately, Katara and Toph are far from ending their argument. If anything, Sokka notes, they seem to be winding up to really get into it. Top’s since moved off the couch, squaring up to Katara with a glare. She jabs a hard finger into Katara’s chest.

“It’s not his fault you moved right into his blindspot,” Toph snaps. Katara scoffs. Toph presses on before she can offer a rebuttal. “He was perfectly lined up to take the shot and you got in his way! Of course, he was going to hit you!”

“What,” Sokka snaps. Beside him, Aang sighs with the sort of resignation of one who’s heard this argument far too many times. He probably has, if Sokka’s being honest. This sounds like something Katara wouldn’t be able to let go of. Sokka frowns and glances at Aang, silently demanding an explanation.

“Nobody got hurt,” Aang says. “He managed to stop before Katara was actually hit but…” He frowns. “She’s still pretty upset about it.”

“He’s lucky we weren’t bending,” Katara snaps, rounding on Aang and Sokka with a frown of her own. “I could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“We’re bending , Katara,” Toph growls. “Any one of us could get hurt by accident.”

“Then someone with better control should be on the team,” Katara growls back.

“If he lacked control, he would’ve hit you,” Toph shouts, arms flying in the air. Aang groans as Katara turns back around and glares at Toph. He gives Sokka a pleading look and Sokka can’t help but feel bad. Sokka thought his headache was bad. He’s willing to bet money Aang has the mother of all migraines brewing.

Sokka misses whatever Katara says, too lost in excuses to get him and Aang out of the house for a few hours. Toph’s retort, however, he hears clear as day.

“Wow,” she says, voiced tinged with barely contained fury. “Maybe you forgot, Katara, but I’m blind too. Does that mean I shouldn’t be on the team?”

Katara recoils as if she’s been slapped. Silence descends over the group of friends. Sokka spares a glance at Aang who’s watching the girls with shocked disappointment. Well…  this is not what he expected when he agreed to meet his friends for a night together. Sokka sucks in a breath and steps forward, prepared to play the role of reasonable older sibling.

“I don’t really know the whole story,” he begins. “But from what Toph told me, it sounds like you just started working together.” Katara levels him with a frown, looking as if she wants to argue but remaining quiet for the time being. Sokka will take it over her, interrupting him with some outrageous accusation. He presses on. “I think you just need to give it time and make an effort to work as a team.”

“Sokka’s right,” Aang says then, moving to stand next to his friend. “Nobody expects you guys to be perfect right away.”

Katara looks like she wants to argue but something in Aang’s gaze stops her. She huffs and stalks off towards her room. Toph drops back onto the couch with an angry scoff, bare feet slapping against the table.

“I’m sorry, Sokka…” Aang apologizes and why is Aang apologizing? None of this is his fault. “I know you just wanted to hang out and came over to all…” his hand gestures to where Katara once stood. “This…”

“Katara just needs some time to cool down,” Sokka replies. “Why don’t the three of us go pick up some dinner. Maybe she’ll be calmer when we get back.”

Toph leaps off the couch as Aang disappears to let Katara know they’re leaving. He comes back a few minutes later looking concerned but otherwise unbothered by his roommates’ argument.

They head off towards a local cafe.

Katara apologizes to Toph when they return.

They spend the rest of the night playing games and watching random shows on TV.

Sokka’s headache is long gone by the time he heads home for the night, and he finds himself more relaxed than he’s been in over a week. He grins at the thought as he makes his way back to campus, tired and ready to sleep.

Wednesday

“Before everyone goes for the day,” Iroh begins an actual minute before class is set to end. The class collectively groans but settles down for whatever he has to say next. From what Sokka can tell, the general consensus seems to be that Iroh’s a good guy. Strange teacher but good guy nonetheless.

Smiling to himself, Iroh begins handing out flyers to the front row, saying, “You may not know this, but I run a small tea shop just off campus. The Jasmine Dragon,” and his eyes positively sparkle with pride. “We’re having a special event for all my students this Saturday. Bring you friends for some free tea and a break from studying.”

“Well that’s convenient,” Suki mutters as a stack of flyers comes into her possession. She takes one and passes the rest back, studying the paper in her hand. A grin spreads across her face. “This is the tea shop I was telling you about.”

“I suppose it makes sense that the professor teaching tea history owns and runs the most popular tea shop in Ba Sing Se,” Sokka comments, handing off his own stack of flyers. He doesn’t take one. There’s no need if Suki has one herself.

“We should get the gang together and go,” she says as the class finally begins packing up to leave.

“I think Yue’s busy this weekend,” Sokka points out. She mentioned something the other day about preparing for a recital. Though maybe that was last week and he’s finally at that point in the semester where days blur together… “But Aang, Katara, and Toph might want to come?”

“And Zuko.”

“I can ask him…” he mutters, uncertain. Somehow Zuko strikes him as more of a coffee kind of person. He definitely gives off those ‘starving artist who’s been up for a week straight on a project due at midnight and in need of a caffeine fix’ vibes. Maybe he’d want to come and meet some more of Sokka’s friends though? Or is it too presumptuous that the guy doesn’t have friends of his own? In his defense, Sokka’s never seen him with anyone else or even mention knowing other people.

Sokka frowns at the thought, immediately feeling guilty. Just because the guy is quiet doesn’t mean he has no friends…. He really shouldn’t be making that sort of assumption…

Which… maybe he’s just busy hanging out with them or he has work or something.

“The answer will always be ‘no’ if you never ask,” Suki teases, and Sokka huffs a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he replies. “I’ll ask him when I see him later.” They draw to a stop where the walkway diverges, both of them needing to go in opposite directions for their next classes. Something glints in Suki’s gaze as she turns towards him. Sokka has no idea what the look is meant to mean, but he can feel his defenses rising almost instantly.

“You know, Sokka,” she begins, tone hesitant. She glances in the direction of her class before continuing. “I think Zuko really likes spending time with you… and I think maybe you like his company too.”

“Well… yeah,” he replies, somewhat confused. “He’s my friend. We have fun together.” Suki’s brows furrow, mouth twisting as if frustrated he’s not getting what she’s trying to say. “What is this about?”

“You just…” she starts, actually hesitating now. Her gaze remains averted, looking everywhere but at him. It’s… a little uncomfortable seeing confident Suki suddenly becoming nervous. “You haven’t mentioned your soulmate lately is all…”

Oh… he… he supposes he hasn’t…. But that’s not because of Zuko. He’s been busy with classes and term papers and… and work! Sure, the dreams are still there but… life and classes have been holding his attention.

“I’ve just been busy,” he mutters, feeling no conviction behind the worlds but unsure as to why. Sokka finds himself looking in the direction of his next classes as he says, “I’m not sure what Zuko has to do with my soulmate…  besides… I didn’t think you’d want to hear anymore about it. It’s not like anything has changed since the dreams started. I still don’t know who they are.”

“Yeah but… Zuko starts spending time with you and you suddenly stop talking about them all together,” she points out. “Don’t you think that might mean something?” Something akin to guilt twists uncomfortably in Sokka’s gut. He’s not… Zuko isn’t some sort of replacement… that’s not fair to him or his soulmate… besides, he and Zuko aren’t romantically involved.

There’s nothing going on between them other than friendship.

“I need to get to class,” he announces, suddenly unable or willing to continue this line of thought. Suki calls after him as he walks away to his next class. He ignores her, mind swimming with thoughts and implications of his growing friendship with Zuko.

The thoughts swirl through his mind for the rest of the day, digging into his mind and refusing to leave.

He’s not… Zuko’s just his friend .

There’s nothing more going on between them.

They hang out sure… study together when they have time. Get together for lunch if their schedules happen to line up.

Watch movers at the end of a long day…. Occasionally fall asleep on each other’s beds….

Sokka huffs, shaking his head of those thoughts. So what if they do all those things? It’s normal for friends to do that… and it’s normal for roommates to spend time together.

He has a soulmate for spirits’ sake! Zuko does too!

There’s nothing going on between them!

“Sokka?” He jumps, head whipping up from the book he’s been mindlessly staring at to find Zuko standing by the table. Zuko shifts where he’s standing, gaze concerned as he looks his friend over. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I…” Sokka frowns and shuts his book. “Actually… Do you think we could head back to the dorm? I don’t want to study in the library today.”

“Um… sure,” he replies, and patiently waits while Sokka packs up.

Neither of them speak until they’re outside the library.

“Sorry…” Sokka says, sighing. “Suki just brought something up and it’s been on my mind all day…”

“Oh…” Zuko says, fingers playing with the strap of his bag. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sokka shrugs because he honestly doesn’t know. For all the time they’ve spent together, neither of them has so much as mentioned a soulmate. Would it be too personal for him to bring up? Come to think of it… what are the Fire Nation’s customs when it comes to soulmates? From what Sokka knows, they tend to be a bit more reserved about traditions compared to the other nations.

Would he be somehow crossing a line to talk about it to Zuko?

Would Zuko even care? He’s been living in the Earth Kingdom for awhile now. Surely, he’s been privy to conversations about soulmates at this point.

“It’s about my soulmate,” Sokka blurts before he can overthink this further. Beside him, Zuko tenses. Sokka immediately regrets saying anything. “Sorry… We don’t have to talk about this if you’re not comfortable.”

“No,” Zuko says almost as quickly as Sokka had. He clears his throat. “No, I… it’s okay, if you want to talk about them. I don’t mind.” Sokka sighs, grateful that Zuko’s willing to listen but reluctant because maybe he really doesn’t want to talk about it…

“You know… I’ve spent my whole life waiting for the day I would meet my soulmate,” Sokka begins, somewhat forlorn. He gazes up at what little of the stars he can see through the light pollution. “Did you know my sister’s soulmate is the avatar?” He laughs a little. “Yeah… they had an almost instant connection. No guesswork with them.”

Sokka spares a glance at Zuko to find him listening, though there’s a tightness to his gaze.

“I was a little jealous at first, you know?” he continues. “It wasn’t until this year that I made the connection with mine… only, this campus is huge and there’s so many students here…” He frowns, troubled. “I have no idea who they even are…”

His mouth snaps shut, annoyance flaring within him. If he’s being honest, being with Zuko has been a great distraction and that makes him feel guilty. Makes him feel like he’s somehow cheating on his own soulmate.

“Sorry…” Sokka apologizes when Zuko offers up no words of wisdom. “I just… feel like I’m being ungrateful. Everyone keeps telling me to be patient, but they’ve already met their soulmates, and today… Suki, she-” He turns to Zuko, eyes wide and heart racing. Zuko watches him back, patiently waiting for him to keep speaking. Unassuming. Not judging. Just… patiently listening to his complaints.

Would Zuko even care if Sokka told him what Suki said?

“You know,” Zuko begins, thoughtfully. “My uncle used to say ‘waiting is like tea, and when you put the time into waiting, the tea will be perfect’... wait, no…” Sokka sputters, hand clamping down on his mouth as his shoulders begin to shake uncontrollably. Zuko frowns, face turning pink. His arms cross, shoulders rising as he hunches in on himself.

“It sounds better coming from my uncle…” he grumbles.

“I’m sure it does,” Sokka replies, gaining control of his laughter. He sighs, feeling an odd mix of happy and sad. The frown returns. “Suki just made me feel bad because I hadn’t brought up my soulmate lately…”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know who mine is either.”

“Actually… it does,” he says, grinning. “Are you having the dreams?”

“Um… yeah… since move-in.” Oh wow…. What a strange coincidence that is. Sokka laughs a little.

“Yeah, same,” he replies. “But I saw so many different people that day and no way of really knowing who they might be.”

“This is my first year on campus,” Zuko tells him. “So everyone in the dorms was new to me.”

“We should take bets to see who finds their first,” Sokka jokes. Zuko tenses. His face goes carefully blank, closing himself off completely. It’s such a strange transformation, the way Zuko seems to build his walls up and shut people out.

The friendly atmosphere between them freezes.

“I…” Zuko frowns, the troubled look in his golden gaze the only indication of his inner turmoil. He sighs and brushes a hand through his hair. “I don’t….” Sokka sighs.

“No…” he says. “You don’t have to explain yourself if you don’t want to.” Sokka’s honestly surprised by how much he means it. Zuko doesn’t have to tell him anything he’s not comfortable divulging. It’s not any of his business. Zuko can tell him when he’s ready if he chooses.

“I just don’t know if I’m ready to meet them yet,” he mumbles. He huffs out a wry sort of laugh and when he turns to meet Sokka’s gaze, his eyes are swimming with unshed tears. “Nobody wants a soulmate as broken as I am.”

Zuko angrily wipes at his face and picks up his pace. Sokka has to jog to catch up to him. His heart aches for his roommate. He might not know the whole story, and, really, it’s not any of his business whether he knows or not.

“Zuko, wait,” he says, grabbing onto his roommate’s shoulder. Zuko flinches, twisting out of his grasp as if he’s been burned. His hand slaps Sokka’s away. Sokka presses on, undeterred. “That’s not true!” Zuko opens his mouth to protest. “No, listen!” His mouth snaps shut, eyes wide in surprise.

“We may not know each other well,” Sokka says, determined to cheer his friend up. “But I’d hardly consider you broken. Sure… you might have a history and who doesn’t have some baggage, but you’re a nice guy. Kind. Thoughtful. Smart. You’re far more creative that any person I’ve ever known or met! Maybe you’re a little quiet, but there’s a gentleness underneath the sarcasm. Anyone would be lucky to have you for a soulmate.”

He wishes Zuko was his soulmate. Sokka blinks, feeling all his fight flee at the realization. Oh… is this what Suki meant earlier? What does that even mean for him and his soulmate?

Zuko scoffs, derailing any thoughts he might be having.

“Nobody wants to wake up to see such a hideous scar every day,” he says. His hand reaches up to brush against the marred flesh. Sokka watches the movement with a frown, wishing for the first time ever that it wouldn’t be rude to ask. He might not know what happened, but he has enough sense to know they aren’t close enough to ask about it.

“There’s nothing wrong with your face, Zuko,” Sokka tells him, looking away from his withering glare. He waves away whatever protest Zuko might have had. “No. Listen. I get that the scar is maybe a touchy subject, but you aren’t ugly, and I know your soulmate’s going to love waking up next to you every day. So… don’t count yourself so short. Don’t let that be the reason you don’t meet them.”

Zuko’s face is entirely red when Sokka dares look at him again. He can feel the heat in his own face and is thankful for his darker complexion. Zuko bites his lip and looks down the path they were walking on. At some point they both stopped, but Sokka can’t say for sure when that happened; both of them being too wrapped up in talk to notice.

“Thank you, Sokka,” he mumbles as they resume their trek back to the dorms. He glances at his friend out of the corner of his eyes. “For what it’s worth, I think anybody would be lucky to be your soulmate too.”

Yeah , Sokka thinks, grinning, I think so too.  

Thursday

Sokka’s just about to hit ‘send’ on his paper when the power goes out.

The power goes out five minutes before Sokka’s supposed to submit his paper.

There’s no power on campus and Sokka can’t submit the paper he just finished minutes before the deadline.

He stares at his screen. At the wifi signal in the corner indicating there’s no connection.

There’s no connection because the power went out.

Behind him Zuko lets out a groan of anguish. It’s echoed throughout the suddenly dark dorm.

“That was my midterm ,” he says, dismayed, and Sokka cringes. It’s bad enough that he can’t submit his paper but that’s all on him. He’s the one who waited until the last minute to submit it.

“Do you want me to text my sister?” Sokka offers as the thought occurs to him. “She lives off campus so you might be able to finish it at her place.”

“I don’t know if it’ll let me back in…” Zuko mumbles, casting the room in darkness as he shuts his laptop. Sokka’s laptop is the only thing lighting their room now, the screen displaying a message of no internet connection. He frowns, glancing outside to find even the streetlights are out.

“What are we supposed to do now?” he asks, idly watching people mill about outside.

“We could make shadow puppets?” Zuko suggests, pulling a set of candles out of his desk drawer. Sokka stares at the candles wondering distantly why he has a whole drawer full of them. Also, is he being serious about the shadow puppets? Somehow, he imagines Zuko’s terrible at making shadow puppets. Then again… he is an art student. Maybe he can make something crazy with his hands.

“You just… keep a drawer full of candles, huh?” he notes instead.

“I use them for meditating.”

“Oh..” Sokka says as Zuko begins placing candles around the room. “So like… scented candles then?” It shouldn’t matter, really, what kind of candles they are or why Zuko has them. Once they’re lit he can shut his laptop down. It’s a good thing he has those candles because Sokka’s laptop has shit battery life after all these years and it won’t last much longer on its charge.

“Some of them are scented,” Zuko explains, placing the final candles in its spot. “But it’s more of a breathing exercise for firebenders.”

“Makes sense,” Sokka replies, watching as Zuko begins lighting the candles with his bare hands. He blinks, taking a moment to process what he’s seeing, and then his eyes go wide. “Wait… you’re a firebender?!” Zuko laughs a little, lighting the final candle and allowing Sokka to shut his laptop.

“I guess it just never came up,” he says, shrugging. “And it’s not like you ever asked… so….” He stands in the center of the room, watching Sokka helplessly.

“Fair point.” Sokka eyes the candle closest to him. “Can you do any cool tricks?” He’s always trying to get Katara to do something fun with her bending, like how Aang has his air scooter thing, but she always gets crabby about it. Then she lectures him about how sacred bending is and how it shouldn’t be used for childish things. Which… is funny considering she does probending….

“I know some,” Zuko says sheepishly, snapping him out of his train of thought. “But there’s not enough room here to show you.” Sokka frowns, excitement fleeing him as quickly as it came. Aang’s the only person he’s met so far capable of firebending only… he doesn’t know enough yet to show off, and Katara’s never been any help in that department either. Toph recreated a perfect replica of Ba Sing Se once, right down to the citizens, but she can only do so much with rocks.

Sokka would much prefer to see some firebending tricks. They sound far more interesting than anything he’s seen so far.

“Oh!” Zuko says, face lighting up as if he’s just had a thought. “I might know something we can do.”  Sokka watches with interest as he returns to his desk. He pulls a bottle out of a drawer and asks, “Have you ever wished you could firebend?” Sokka’s immediately on board with whatever Zuko has planned.

“Yes!” In truth, he always wondered what waterbending was like. Mostly because waterbenders are far more common than firebenders in the Southern Water Tribe. He’ll take whatever he can get, though.

“Ok, so this was a really common, uh… game? Back in the Fire Nation,” Zuko explains, dragging his chair closer to Sokka. He holds up the bottle in his hand and Sokka squints at the label, trying to read it in their limited light. “It’s hand sanitizer.”

“What kind of game is this?” he asks, eyeing the bottle skeptically. What kind of games do they play in the Fire Nation that involves hand sanitizer of all things? He gingerly takes the bottle and snaps the cap off.

“I’m not really sure of all the rules. It was something more common with non-benders, but…” Zuko takes the bottle and squirts a liberal amount onto Sokka’s desk. He spreads it out evenly across the surface before lighting it on fire. Sokka sucks in a breath, eyeing the fire with alarm.

If Zuko wasn’t a firebender, he’d be concerned they were about to burn down their dorm. He’s fairly calm though for someone who just lit their roommate’s desk on fire . Zuko gestures to the flames, flaring blue from the combination of chemicals in the hand sanitizer.

“And then you just…. Swipe the flames up with your hand,” he finishes.

“ That’s your idea of fun in the Fire Nation?” Okay… Sokka knows, logically, that he agreed to whatever nonsense Zuko had in mind. He did not realize that meant possibly lighting himself on fire. Zuko visibly wilts at his statement, frowning as he puts the small fire out.

“Sorry…” he mumbles, and Sokka feels his heart break at how crestfallen he sounds.  

“I’m not exactly immune to fire, Zuko,” he points out weakly.

“And you think I am ?” He’s glowering at Sokka now, golden gaze intense enough to make Sokka squirm. There’s something in those words that strike deep. A hidden meaning that has Sokka staring at the scar on his face, wondering once again what the story behind it is. He wants to ask. Wants so badly to know, but refrains because it’s rude to pry and Zuko should tell him whenever he’s ready to (if he’s ever ready to).

Zuko huffs, shifting in his seat and says, “I wouldn’t suggest something if I thought you would get hurt, you know.”

“So it’s safe then?” Zuko shrugs as if he has no idea how safe it really is. “That’s… not very encouraging…”

“Well I’ve never had a reason to do this,” Zuko comments, which… fair. “But it was really popular with non-benders growing up and I can put it out before anything bad happens.” And when Zuko puts it like that Sokka can’t see a reason not to try.

Which is precisely how Sokka ends up where he is approximately ten minutes later, nursing a nasty looking burn on the inside of his wrist. He pulls the compress away from the spot, hiss as it rubs against tender flesh. A washcloth is probably too rough for something like this but it’s all they had.

He frowns at the mark. Katara’s never going to stop lecturing him on this… especially when she finds out he got medical attention without telling her. What he wouldn’t give for her healing right about now…

Sadly, he can not and will not get her involved. The last thing he needs is her blaming Zuko for this and he’s not about to subject his roommate to her neverending grudges. Besides… Zuko’s a firebender. Surely he knows better than anyone how to treat burns.

The door clicks open and said roommate steps back into the room. Regret and guilt roll off him in waves as he steps over to Sokka to inspect the burn. He places an unlabelled bottle on the desk.

“Let this air dry for a bit,” Zuko mumbles, apology lacing his voice. He gestures to the bottle. “Then put some of that on. It’s a salve to help the burn. My uncle dropped it off for me.” Oh so that explains where he disappeared to for twenty minutes. He flashes Zuko a grin. Zuko gives him a sheepish look then turns away.

“Do I need to bandage it?” Sokka asks, trying to break the silence.

“Um…” Zuko spares the mark a glance but doesn’t meet Sokka’s eyes. “You might want to before bed so it doesn’t rub all night.”

Sokka scowls. Zuko’s making that face of his again. The one Sokka has quickly realized means he feels bad and wants to apologize but also feels guilty because he’s been apologizing for the past hour.

“Stop beating yourself up over it,” he says and Zuko flinches, finally meeting his eye. “Accidents happen, you know? It’s not your fault.”

“Can I at least like… take you out for tea or something? To make up for it?”

“If that’ll make you feel better then sure,” Sokka responds with a grin, entirely touched by the offer. Oh… right… he and his friends had plans this weekend. “Actually…” he begins, feeling somewhat bad that he nearly forgot to invite Zuko. “We were going to go to this new place off campus on Saturday if you wanted to come with? You could always treat me to tea there?” And Zuko’s looking apologetic again.

“I have work on Saturday,” he confesses. Well… that’s…. disappointing…. His disappointment must be reading on his face because Zuko quickly adds, “I’ll be around Sunday, though, if you wanted?”

“Sure,” Sokka says, grin returning to his face. Excitement courses through him at the idea of just them going out for tea. Below that, is once more guilt, over being excited about spending the day with someone not his soulmate. They’re just going as friends though. Sokka knows this…. Zuko’s not interested in him like that anyways.

Sokka shakes himself of the thought and says, “Sunday sounds nice.”

Friday

Suki notices because of course she does. She stares pointedly at the bandage carefully wrapped around his wrist and says, “What happened there?”

“Uh…” he says, heat rising to his face. He still hasn’t figured out what to tell everyone else. The truth would be a good idea but he’s not sure how the others might feel knowing it was Zuko’s idea. Then again…. Sokka did go along with it… which just makes him feel stupid. Toph will absolutely laugh her ass off over it.

He’s never been very good at lying to Suki though….

“I… burned myself last night….” he admits. Around them the dining hall’s filled with conversation. Most of it seems to be about last night’s sudden power outage. So far all his professors have extended any deadlines affected by the outage. He hopes maybe Zuko’s professor put an extension on that exam. Would suck if he failed over something out of his control…

“And what exactly were you doing that involved fire?” she asks.

“Lighting candles?”

“You were lighting candles and burned yourself bad enough you needed to bandage it.”

“Did you know Zuko was a firebender?” he asks because he can’t help it, and keeping secrets from Suki is just downright impossible. Girl can sniff out a secret like a shirshu.

“You know…” she says thoughtfully. “That would make a lot of sense…” Suki laughs a little then, eyes glinting with a sense of sudden knowledge as she teasingly says, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with fire?”

“In my defense, I was told it would be safe.” And even that sounds weak in his ears. Suki just stares at him with that sort of disappointed look he just knows Katara would be giving him if she were to find out.

“Katara’s going to kill you,” she points out.

“ Katara won’t as long as you don’t tell her.” It’s not any of her business anyways. If he wants to bond with his roommate through stupid dangerous activities then that’s his prerogative.

“Oh, I don’t have to tell her anything. She’s going to find out when you show up tomorrow for tea with that bandage on your wrist.” Sokka stares with mounting horror. He… he really hadn’t considered that last night. She’s bound to notice and when she does she’s going to ask about it.

He groans, sliding down in his seat as he pokes at his food which has long since gone cold. They’ve been so wrapped up in the conversation that neither of them have finished lunch. Well… Suki seems to be mostly done so… he’s barely eaten and a quick glance at the clock has him sucking in a breath.

“ Shit, ” he hisses, hastily throwing his bag over his shoulder and collecting everything. “I need to get to class.”

He gives her a parting wave before fleeing to dump his food and get to class on time.

He grabs some fruit on his way out.

Saturday

Katara absolutely notices the mark on the wrist when Sokka and Suki go over to her place in the morning. He left it unwrapped hoping that it would just blend into his already dark skin to absolute failure.

“He and Zuko were playing with candles the other night,” Suki gleefully tells her. She thankfully leaves out the part where he’s a firebender. He’s not sure he can handle that revelation just yet.

“ Zuko? ” Katara snaps, giving him a curious look. Toph barks out a laugh as they make their way down the road to the Jasmine Dragon.

“My roommate?” Sokka offers, frowning at the girl.

“Oh this is going to be great,” Toph cheers, refusing to reveal whatever hidden knowledge she’s keeping secret.

“Why were you playing with candles?” Katara asks, choosing to ignore Toph’s laughter. Suki won’t stop shooting the earthbender looks like she’s trying to sort through clues.

“The power went out,” he tells her. “Didn’t you hear about it?” Aang sidles up to his side, gently taking his hand and inspecting the mark. He runs a finger over it and Sokka flinches. “It’s still sensitive…”

“That’s an odd spot for lighting candles,” Aang comments. Sokka stiffens and yanks his arm away with a frown. Katara’s giving him that disappointed mom look now. He hates that look.

“Sokka-”

“Oh look,” he says loud enough to cut her off. “Is that the Jasmine Dragon?” Sure enough the building comes into view and with it, the long line of students also looking to check the place out. He wilts a little at the prospect of being subjected to Katara’s torment while they wait.

Katara, thankfully, drops the subject with the unspoken promise of revisiting it later. Sokka just hopes he can escape before she’s able to corner him.

Fortunately, the line seems to move quickly and soon they find themselves stepping up to be seated.

Several things happen then as they’re led to an open table. Katara sucks in a breath, stopping short as she looks around the shop.

“ You, ” she hisses, face twisting with contempt. Everyone stops, turning back to follow her line of sight and…

“ Zuko? ” Sokka squawks because… this is the job he disappears off to? Zuko stands by a table, eyes wide like a fox antelope caught in its tracks as he stares at Katara. “Wait…” Sokka turns to his sister. “You know him?” He can feel the pieces beginning to connect but one piece remains just out of reach. Toph’s cackling is followed by Suki’s snort of laughter as she finally connects the dots.

“Zuko!” Aang greets, bouncing over to Sokka’s statue of a roommate. His approach seems to knock Zuko out of his shock. And how does Aang know Zuko?

“Hey, genius,” Toph says, suddenly at Sokka’s side. The slap on his back is hard enough to rock him forward. “I didn’t know your roommate was a firebender!”

A strange disconnect happens in Sokka’s brain then, as the two separate people are suddenly jammed together into one entity.

Sokka becomes painfully aware that Zuko, his roommate, is also the firebending teammate of Katara and Toph.

He groans, secretly wishing Toph could just open the earth and let it swallow him whole.

Today is going to be a long day…

[i-love-him-on-purpose]

the half of it liveblog

LET’S GO I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SINCE MARCH hi. my name is abby, and this is me watching the half of it

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

i have big gay expectations for this movie

as an asian wlw, i do NOT want to be disappointed

starting NOW

fuck YES this animation is beautiful

plato. this movie is already calling out my dumb gay ass

they did really good casting with ellie! imagine having a movie with high schoolers that LOOK LIKE HIGH SCHOOLERS

chugga chugga chu chu? SQUARE UP BITCH

OMG paul and ellie’s first meeting is iconic

“i’m not looking to cheat” “no one is”

“gET a thESaURus uSE a speLLcHecKer gOOd luCk rOMeo”

this is an accurate representation of hold times istg

IS THIS A MEET CUTE?!

aster looks so tired but wowowowowow she is hecking beautiful

ellie is a disaster gay

exhibit 1: staring at aster in band

exhibit 2: “i’m ellie chu?!?!?!”

exhibit 3: more staring in the hallway

staring/longing is the peak gay experience

she is FINALLY charging acceptable prices for writing

i’d ask $15 for two page

maybe she just loves writing

can’t relate

“SHE’S LIKE ALL THREE” paul you eloquent mf

he’s a ROMANTIC... but so bad with words omg

“yah my grandma’s dead wanna go out with me”

“love makes you screwy. don’t you get screwy?”

istg you dumb jock ily

in love, one always starts by deceiving oneself... and ends by deceiving others

PAUL OMG

i LOokED uP PLaiGiAriZed

...

wow i had to stop for like 8 minutes there to properly watch their letters play out

the way alice wu spins this story is absolutely gorgeous

aster and ellie are so in sync and understanding of each other

the art, the words, the letters

everything just meshes together perfectly and i’m already in love with their story, whether or not there’s a happy ending

oh ho ho... paul....

no but he’s totally right

dating is burgers and fries and ice cream and whatnot

love is what ellie and aster have been doing– the talking and the listening and the understanding

smithcorona ahaha

“i love... nazis” paul you good there

oh honey you understand nothing

LMAO i love how ellie’s riding away on her bike and paul’s just bent over in the background PERFECTLY poised to pick up a rock

YES! jock + lesbian friendship

“hi ellie chu’s dad” has the same energy as “mr. jack’s dad” and “mr. sir” if u know what i’m talking about (check, please! mutuals hi)

yeSSIR yeSSIR

i love how paul just treats this like drills he has to run

jocks, man

PFPDFSLDKJF HE GOT FASTER AHAHAHA

why do neither of them know how to play ping pong istg

i love one (1) girl that laughs at horror movies

omg my anxious ass would be terrified if i thought someone was watching me

oh, i thought that line was about aster

but it still makes sense in a friendship way

and this IS a friendship movie so it does make sense

my coward ass would’ve never brought a boy home in high school

especially not to my enthusiastic italian father

besides i only ever dated one person and she was a girl and i hadn’t come out to my parents yet

kudos to ellie

oh i just realized that aster’s christian

does that influence her views on lgbtq?

probably

oh, ellie

watching that made me tear up

god, falling for someone who doesn’t know that you’re you

this english teacher is fckin hilarious

and also totally not a romantic lmao

OMG FATHER SHANLEY

AHAHAHAHA

“world’s asleep. more room for secrets”

now THAT’S what love feels like

falling in love with the little things

wait he doesn’t say “you like aster?”

THEY SCAMMED US

...does he support her or not

paul munsky say something

oh he realizes that he doesn’t know what love is not that ellie likes aster

“if love isn’t the effort you put in”

i love this friendship and paul’s quiet wisdom

oh boy there are weird chewing noises

TACO SAUSAGE!

aww paul’s a romantic and ellie’s hilarious

seeing “guy” makes my heart hurt

aw ellie have a little faith in our dumb jock <3

this is so cute and super awkward

i feel like i did this at some point in high school

OMG PAUL WHAT ARE YOU DOING

what just happened

awww he’s so enthusiastic

bitch what the fuck is “a look”

CONSENT

wtf is this a fucking rave

WTF ARE YOU BITCHES DOING

are high schools like this now??? is everyone fucking horrid?

yes girl play your song

wait a sec can they all hear her without a mic

she wrote that? that’s so sweet <3

awwwwwwww

but that’s so cliché

it’s literally high school musical

oh boy now she’s POPULAR?

i love their friendship so much

OOP

awwww I LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP

omg what? shoes in the house? shoes ON THE BED? DISGRACE PAUL MUNSKY

jk him caring for her is literally so cute

i’m glad we can have that platonically

she did that for him? aww

the way she spits out the advil is hilarious

OMG ASTER?!?

i bet she thinks ellie and paul are dating

oof

“it’s paul’s chinese friend” who the FUCK do you think you are? STEP THE FUCK UP KAREN

oh it’s the daisy!

it’s gorgeous

i feel like aster definitely suspects something

OH THEY’RE SPENDING THE DAY TOGETHER

i have no idea what she does at the station?!?

“SECRET PLACE” oh lawd

aster definitely knows it’s ellie

i wish i had a secret pond

but alas

i am just a poor city girl

ellie is a disaster gay and i am living for it

LONG UNDERWEAR ellie is prepared for all situations

paul is so sweet that’s adorable

“i don’t think i’ve ever hung out with a girl and not talked about boys before” the GAY is showing and i love it

but love isn’t about feeling safe

it’s about feeling adventurous but being safe

you’re in HIGH SCHOOL why tf r u thinking about marriage?

oml don’t get married to trig he’s a fucking idiot

i lowkey thought they were going to kiss

and then ellie “i am a RUSSIAN DOLL of clothing!!1!1!”

sdlkfjsdlkf

AHADHSFDSJFLDSKFJLESKF PAUL LOOKS SO NERVOUS

when my asian mom did this, my white dad would look just like him, even after literally decades of marriage

WOAH the visuals

just... two people looking at the same sky

so intimate

“gravity is matter’s response to loneliness”

that’s so deep but all i can think of is r/showerthoughts

just two girls discussing their deepest beliefs and secrets in a spring

i would like to do that pls

lmao ellie’s dad and paul are besties now

oh

oh ellie

COLLEGE you deserve to go to college!

omg aster and paul’s height difference

paul’s siblings are hilarious lmao

SLDKFJSDL “A BUNCH OF GUYS SNIFFING EACH OTHERS’ BUTTS” is maybe the most accurate description of high school sports

guess all that running really paid off paul

“squahamish scores for the first time in 50 yrs” i-

ellie trying to finesse the yakult is the funniest thing

what the FUCK just happened

what

what

what

that was like watching a train wreck in slo-mo

paul WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

WHAT THE FUCK

dkjlsfdksjlfkldsjf

i have zero words.

...trig

is he ok

who sprayed him? was it paul or ellie’s dad??

oh god literally all three of them are ruined

paul! he’s trying! and that matters!

he’s been taught to condemn it

but he supports his friend first and foremost

so he tries to understand and accept it

...oh no paul’s mother

ellie looks so sad :(

ugh i’m crying

she had to grow up too quickly because of her mother’s death

“have you ever loved someone so much you don’t want anything about them to change?”

i’m so emotional

SKSKSK “i had to grind something” homophobic mother looks up

the fuck is “little lady”

oh i get it he’s proposing

trig is literally the human manifestation of microaggression

ASTER DON’T DO IT

ELLIE?!

the painting metaphor is back and i am not ok

AND I OOP- she slapped him ok ok ok

“mommy wants you to know that in case you are gay, mommy still loves you” “no mom i’m not gay” “thank god” “i might want to change your sausage recipe though” “are you INSANE?” THIS IS AN EXACT PARALLEL to when bitty came out and mama bittle still loved him but then the JAM (hello again check please mutuals if ur still here ily)

lmao the english teacher “now that is some divine intervention” she is neutral evil and i am LIVING for it (bet she’s wlw too)

“you don’t mean dead, right” SLDFKJSDL

“love is messy and horrible and selfish... and bold.” -ellie chu

that’s fucking beautiful

aster looks... so tired

COLLEGE YES SHE’S GOING TO COLLEGE

i have no words i just want to watch this and cry

they kissed.

they KISSED.

“i’ll see you in a couple of years”

i love that they don’t end up together

that they know that they should wait, that it’s not their time yet

because love is “the trying, and the reaching, and the failing”

ellie looks so happy

she’s comfortable in her own skin

FINALLY

she deserves everything

omg the emojis slap

her dad’s conductor? station master? idk but he’s working again and i’m so proud of him

is paul seriously giving her sausage

lmao

“too smart to be crying on the platform like a wussy” “i’m not crying” “wussy” underrated exchange of the year

paul chasing after ellie on the train is so sweet

i’m sobbing

“moron”

ugh

she looks so content and i love that for her

that’s the end

if you made it this far, congrats! 

overall 10/10

it’s such a sweet movie it’s well paced, well written, and well shot

time to go see if there’s any fic

bye!

[swampgallows]

I love seeing your Warcraft rave posts, and I've discovered a lot of new music as a result! Do you have any songs you associate with particular characters?

I’ve had this post in my drafts forever because it’s hard to call up the memory on command, so when I remembered them I’d come back to write them down! not all of them are rave music necessarily but hopefully they’ll still be new tunes :) 

I’ve since added pics and fixed links, so this post is now under a cut! 

In alphabetical order:

Anduin Wrynn: Force & Styles feat. Jenna — Heart of Gold [Happy Hardcore]

In the happy hardcore scene this is a HUGE love song, like, people GET MARRIED to this song; it is an ANTHEM that has been played out to a point where people groan at the first note. So it can be kind of bittersweet for some people, but luckily I don’t have that association so I get to just enjoy it and think of a small golden boy. 

(I do groan when it comes on though because it’s a whopping 8 minutes long and nobody ever mixes out of it early. They would never DARE)

“Another day has passed me by /Of shattered dreams, a distant cry /And a feeling that I’ve lost my world to you”

***

Bwonsamdi: Ozric Tentacles — Valley of a Thousand Thoughts [Psychedelic Rock]

If Bwonsamdi appeared in a Humongous Entertainment title, this would be his background theme song.

***

Garrosh Hellscream: okay this is the real reason i’ve put off this post for so long, i’ve had a Garrosh Hellscream gabber/hardcore mix (and by “mix” i mean a continuous vinyl DJ mix on turntables recorded in one take) in the works for actual years and I can’t decide on how I want anything to go but please just know I (obviously) have like an entire trove of songs for he.

For now I’ll leave you with these two:

Sabaton — Carolus Rex [Power Metal] (thank you @swarnpert!) “All I see, give to me, that is my decree / My will be done”

Advanced Dealer — Hellscream [Gabber/Hardcore]this track is nuskool DOODOO but it’s got siege samples and a harpsichord so i’m contractually obligated to link it. Plus I messaged Advanced Dealer about pressing it to wax and he was like “nah” so I’m mad lmao“I will show you what it means to be called Hellscream!”

***

Jaina Proudmoore: Plumb — Damaged [Downtempo/Trip Hop] (abuse tw)

She has been through way too much.

“Healing comes so painfully / And it chills to the bone”

***

Jastor Gallywix: Julie Coulson — Big Time Operator [Hi NRG/Eurobeat] 

I was so excited to get this ask because I’ve wanted to share this song with a Gallywix association so so so so bad hahahaha

“He’s a hard cash excavator / Mississippi alligator / All he wants is money!”

***

Khadgar: The Shamen — Ebeneezer Goode [Rave] (drugs cw)

This song is actually about ecstasy/MDMA [”these F-in’ ‘E’s are good”] but the literal interpretation about an old man who’s the life of the party is spot on.

“But once you know he’s fun, and something of a genius / He gives a grin that goes around from face to face to face”

***

The Lich King: The Police — King of Pain [Rock/Pop]

This one basically applies to the Lich King as a concept, as a bunch of different parts of it correspond to Arthas Menethil, Ner’zhul, and Bolvar Fordragon. Also I just really really really love this song and wanted to include it lmao

“There’s a king on a throne with his eyes torn out /There’s a blind man looking for a shadow of doubtThere’s a rich man sleeping on a golden bed /There’s a skeleton choking on a crust of bread”

***

Maiev Shadowsong: Scott Brown — Now is the Time [Happy Hardcore] 

Any version of this track works, but this one’s my favorite. (winks at @aeiroki​) 

“Now is the time!” 

***

Malkorok: Darrien Kelly & Scott Brown — Geleihoofd [Gabber]

It, uh. It means “jelly head” :o)

***

Medivh: Scott Brown — The Stranger [UK Hardcore]

I first read The Last Guardian in high school and had started my deeper foray into hardcore, so these two are deeply, intrinsically linked. I get serious goosebumps hearing it again.

“There was a stranger who came into our town. He was tall, and dark, and had eyes that could look right down into the bottom of you.”

***

Nathanos Blightcaller: Miss Nicky Trax — Hooked On You [New Beat] 

(more like nathanas/sylthanos but w/e) 

Not that anybody asked but I associate this track with Molotov Cocktease from the Venture Bros too. LOL

“I love him but I want you / Only for a day or two”

***

Prophet Velen: Vinylgroover & The Red Hed — Hell’s Drums [Hard House]

I can’t really explain this one; I recently got a grip of hard house records and the moment I heard this one Velen just popped into my mind. Plus I’m a sucker for drumline stuff

“A master of time and space”

***

Sylvanas Windrunner: :Wumpscut: — Wreath of Barbs (Prospero remix) [Industrial/EBM]

This is another old, old, old association. Like, vanilla night elf model Sylvanas and Myspace old.

“And bodies lay in decay / Dreaming of a greener day”

***

Princess Talanji: Temperature Drop — Mosquito’s Tweeter [Acid Techno]

I can just hear her singing this and wagging her finger!!

“Wash out your mouth / Your lies are getting rusty” (original)

***

First Arcanist Thalyssra: The Age of Love — The Age of Love (Watch Out for Stella Club Mix [Jam & Spoon]) [Trance]

I looped this a lot while doing the Insurrection questline lol. It starts with a quiet, somber heartbeat of a kickdrum, but watch out for the dentist drill…

“Come on, dance with me / Move your body, your life’s a beat”

***

Thrall: Toto — Africa [Rock/Pop]

I’m not fucking around.

“Hurry, boy, she’s waiting there for you!”

***

Tyrande Whisperwind: Eluveitie — Dessumiis Luge [Folk Metal (acoustic)]

This song, like many by Eluveitie, is sung in ancient Gaulish, and happens to be an old curse on Roman leaders set to powerful music. This has been *THE* Tyrande track for me since it came out in 2009.

“Etic secoui toncnaman toncsiíontío meíon toncsesit /Buetid ollon reguccambion exsops pissíiumítsoccaantí rissuis

(The small shall become great, the crooked become straight, and, though blind, I will see.)”

***

Varian Wrynn: Ensiferum — In my Sword I Trust [Power/Folk Metal]

(don’t tell anybody but i usually kick this up to 1.25 speed lmao)

“Pull your blade in a blazing shore / She’ll never wait and may make war”

***

Varok Saurfang: 3 Steps Ahead — I’m a H.C.M.F. [Gabber/Hardcore] 

Thunderdome was the same weekend as Blizzcon 2017 so the BFA cinematic and 3SA are just melded together in my mind.

“Don’t try to stop him, you can’t hold him back / He’s a hardcore motherfucker, leader of the pack”

***

Vol’jin: Strawberry Alarm Clock — Incense and Peppermints [Psychedelic Rock]

Quintessential 60s track. Don’t you think he’d smell like them too?

“Dead kings, many things I can’t define / Occasions, persuasions clutter your mind”

***

**BONUS** 

Thraina (Thrall x Jaina Proudmoore): The Police — Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic [Rock/Pop]

MY PARENTS!!!! This is like a “young Jaina” song for me too. Weird that I’ve included The Police TWICE but the calliope is just so cute!!

“It’s a big enough umbrella / But it’s always me that ends up getting wet”

–

This list is pretty long as it is but if there’s a character you want, i can try to find a song for them. The ones above are just immediate associations rather than hunting for tracks that “work”. There are certainly more characters but these so far are the only ones that really stand out for me.

I also recommend @fitzefitcher​‘s numerous playlists for everything from dungeons/raids to fanfics to ships!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 171: Knock Them Dead With Your Sound

Previously on BnHA: Deku and Mirio visited Eri in the hospital. Eri apologized for everything they went through in order to save her, particularly Mirio who lost his powers. Mirio told her it wasn’t her fault and that everyone was just glad she was safe, and they all wanted to see her smiling face. Eri tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. Deku racked his brain for ways to cheer her up, and struck on the idea of inviting her to the cultural festival. Aizawa said he’d need to ask the principal but that it could probably be arranged. After Mirio explained the concept, Eri agreed, saying that she wanted to get to know everyone better. We then cut to the police, who were watching a live broadcast of a convenience store robbery and trying to trace its source. The robber, a gentleman thief named -- wait for it -- Gentle, took out six heroes in the blink of an eye and then left without taking any money. He said he wanted his name to be etched into history, and as he met up with his accomplice afterwards, he pondered what his next great exploit should be.

Today on BnHA: We are properly introduced to Gentle and his social media-savvy adoring fan La Brava. Gentle specializes in “chivalrous crimes” that target corruption. However his recent videos haven’t been as popular, in part because Stain and the League of Villains have been stealing his thunder. Back at U.A., word begins to spread about class A’s band performance and dance program. Bakugou overhears some grumps complaining about how cocky 1-A is and how they’re the ones who “start all the conflict.” That evening the kids meet to hash out who will be in charge of what. Jirou needs a drummer, and it turns out Bakugou plays drums, but he’s pissed at the idea of being obligated to provide stress relief for the other departments. As he puts it, “we aren’t getting smacked down by the villains because we enjoy it.” Instead he reframes the whole thing as a battle, and vows to knock U.A. dead with his sound. I mean, whatever works I guess. Meanwhile Gentle reveals to La Brava that he’s planning a new stunt which will surpass anything Stain or the League has done: he plans to invade U.A.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 198 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

lol

LIVING LAWLESS. all about that THUG LIFE

okay so the narrator, whom I assume is Gentle, is talking about people who have left their marks on history

you’re telling me there’s a hero out there simply known as “Brave”? I know we already had a Mr. Brave, and I can tell you right now he has left his mark on absolutely nothing. so that means there’s another guy out there named Brave, so Mr. Brave, your hero name is even lamer than I thought. WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST GO WITH SPLIT END

ooooohh!

oh my god. I want to know everything about all of these guys right the fuck now. particularly Destro. “special abilities liberation army” sounds a lot like a Magneto type “mutant rights” type of thing. there’s an era that we still don’t know much about right after quirks first started appearing on the scene, and it fascinates me and I want to know more about what it was like. because I have some fic ideas about that time period tbh. Destro, I’m definitely making a note of you

so now the narration is talking about how before the present systems were established, the lines between heroes and villains were blurred and it was an age of chaos

honestly this all sounds incredibly badass, like a superpowered wild west

and Gentle seems to agree, saying it was an age of pure freedom

this guy really feels what he’s doing, huh

the gentle, soothing, cuddly criminal. when he’s not out doing Crime, he makes ASMR roleplays in his spare time. “sleep-inducing bank robbery 🌙 (whispered/soft-spoken)”

he’s walking over to La Brava now and she says that their account got deactivated “again”, so she just finished uploading all of their videos to a new account

fucking 2010s manga though, you guys!!

and apparently that narration was from his debut video, which she was rewatching and swooning over just now

so he’s going to finish his cup of tea and then they will get on to today’s filming

oh my fucking god

you don’t understand guys. he’s really a man of the people. he’s on your side! handing out punishments to “those who do not act gentlemanly.” protecting them all from the horrors of expired pudding

oh my god you guys La Brava is the cutest ever I swear to god

how is she so cute though??

she’s frustrated because the jstore robbery video didn’t get that many views

but Gent says they’re not in it for external validation

she’s really mad though because she says it’s been 6 years since he’s been active as “the villain of the media world”

and apparently when Stain came along and went viral he stole all their views

yes but you have to admit they are super compelling though. I miss them, actually. where are they

(ETA: for real, they’ve been way too quiet recently and it’s starting to make me pretty nervous)

did you read that car chase chapter, though. “spectacle” indeed

he says his style is the opposite of that, but nonetheless it can’t be denied that they have momentum

he says all of the 10,000+ comments on their videos concern that violent behavior

are you sure some of the comments aren’t also shipping Toga and Twice. or theorizing what’s up with Tomura’s hands. or talking about how badass Compress’s new metal arm is. honestly they have a lot going for them, man

lmao

WAY TOO MANY JUMP CUTS

I also agree with the guy saying La Brava deserves more of the spotlight. she’s so great

Gent is letting loose with a hearty laugh and says he won’t be discouraged though, and that his next project will surpass even theirs

that is a tall order, sir. Tomura’s most recent act was a great service to humanity. all I’m saying is, you better not hype me up like the last new villain only to let me down, because don’t even get me started on that shitshow

so La Brava is all excited and asking what the next project is, and Gent is responding with a bunch of cryptic bullshit

so I guess we’re going to find out more about the history of heroes and when they became an established thing, huh? I’m 1000% on board with this and I may actually be even more excited for this than for the upcoming class 1-A rave, negl. good job getting this manga back on track, Horikoshi!

(ETA: I’m so thick, he’s clearly just talking about U.A. here lol)

so now we’re cutting back to U.A. and Vlad (who I almost called “Brad” again, it’s been so long) is talking to Aizawa about the cultural fest, and he’s all “so I heard class A is doing a rave huh?”

interestingly, this seems to be one of the rare occasions where Aizawa doesn’t seem to be 100% on board with their hijinks

stfu Aizawa. what’s more admirable than a fucking rave

now we’re cutting to the always adorable children of class A who are excited to plan their festival program

and some shadowy person is coming up to Bakugou and is all “did you hear?”

oh no wait they’re not talking to him, they’re talking to each other about class A right in front of him

um, whoa

y’all trying to start some shit, huh? gonna talk shit about his class when they’re trying to do something fucking nice?? like it’s their fault they keep getting attacked by fucking villains? okay then. hey on an unrelated note, go fuck yourselves

so are these guys just assholes or is this really what the rest of the school in general really thinks? because I can see why they might not exactly have a favorable impression of them, truth be told. Bakugou’s stunts at the sports festival didn’t exactly paint them in the best light. and most likely everyone has made the connection between the kidnapping and Kamino and the student dorms. and probably it’s not much of a secret who the two kids who were caught fighting on Ground Beta after hours were, either. so yeah

but it’s still a dick move to come and do this right in front of him when he’s not bothering you or anything, so fuck you still, and I will come over there and fight you if I have to, don’t think I won’t

fuck. well anyway, while I’m here grumbling and trying to take deep, calming breaths, we’re cutting back to Heights Alliance, and Iida is taking charge of a planning session

first they need to decide on the music, so Jirou is suggesting genres

she says they really should be doing EDM if the intent is to play dance music, but on the other hand everyone seems set on playing instruments. lol it would be funny though if everyone took turns DJing

so she’s asking if anyone in class plays bass or drums, and is met with a dead silence

she says she plays guitar mainly, so her drumming is only so-so. and she says that if she has to teach a beginner how to play drums then one month is not going to be enough time

OH MY GOD

I don’t fully understand what’s happening but ARE YOU IN FACT IMPLYING THAT MY SON KATSUKI KNOWS HOW TO PLAY DRUMS OH MY GOD. KATSUKI ARE YOU GOING TO BE IN A ROCK BAND!?

apparently the answer to that question is YES because class A knows all too well exactly how to manipulate him

MASTER OF PUPPETS I’M PULLING YOUR STRIIIIIINGS

lmao and JUST LIKE THAT

TOO EASY

holy shit. and it seems like he actually does know what he’s doing as well. go figure, he is good at virtually everything after all

well, this is everything I never knew I wanted. good show. excuse me for a moment, I’m gonna go play Song 2 by Blur and wonder what the season 4 OST is gonna be like

now he’s trying to walk away again lol

this is really just an open invitation for someone to come up with a convincing enough reason for him to do it without losing face

although part of me also wonders if maybe he would just rather not be in the spotlight for once. especially after overhearing those JERKFACES from the department of GENERAL JERKS earlier

oh my god Jirou

come on Kacchan don’t you want to be a good person?!

oh shit now he’s going on a tangent

he says nothing’s going to come of it

ahhhhhhhh. I see. so it’s that he’s pissed off at the other departments and doesn’t feel like they deserve class A’s niceness

ahhhh but Jirou looks crushed ;_;

Hagakure is kind of awkwardly being all, “hey, c’mon...”

but Bakugou says that what they’re doing is just “indulging the enemy”

and when exactly did it become Us vs Them though, I wonder. like, if the other classes are the enemy, that implies that your class is Not The Enemy though, yes? aww

oh shit. ohhhhh shit

oh my. and I didn’t even order any Bakugou feels. “yes, we know,” Horikoshi says, holding out the delivery bag. “these are on the house. please accept our gratitude on account of being such a loyal customer”

oh shit you guys. so what do I even do with these. should I meta about them or should I just eat them while they’re still hot

lol, but yeah. “I didn’t ask to be kidnapped. we didn’t ask to be attacked.” people acting like it’s their fault and like they’re enjoying the attention. and maybe once upon a time he did want that, but it’s one thing to fantasize about being famous for being the number one bestest coolest hero, and quite another to wind up actually in the spotlight because you’re the kid who keeps getting attacked by sludge monsters and Villain Leagues. and then people act like you brought it on yourself because you were too cocky. especially when we know that on some level he does blame himself, so it stings all the more

so why should they go out of their way to try to support people like that? it’s almost like they’re apologizing to those assholes, and fuck that

mmm. [munching] so anyway let’s see where this leads

hahaha. what

oh my god this fucking kid

lol. okay so he is on board, then, but just to make it ABSOLUTELY CLEAR, he is not out to “support” anyone, but rather he is declaring war. via drums. that’s right

well hey, however you need to frame it! at the end of the day he has agreed to help, so!

the other kids seem to be on the same page as me lol

yep. WE’LL TAKE IT

JIROUUUUU

;_____; I LOVE YOU SO MUCH JIROU

and now we’re cutting back to Gent and OH MY GOD

CAN YOU PLEASE. NOT

JESUS CHRIST. CAN THEY NOT JUST HAVE JUST ONE FUCKING THING. LET BAKUGOU DECLARE A DRUM WAR AND LET JIROU SHARE HER MUSIC WITH EVERYONE AND LET ERI HAVE A GOOD “DATE” WITH HER DOTING BIG BROTHER MIRIO AND LET THEM JUST RELAX WITHOUT ANY VILLAIN ANTICS

goddammit. I mean like, Gentle’s idea of villainy would probably be to whip out a violin and challenge them to a classical battle of the bands. but even polite villain antics are really not going to be good for U.A.’s PR at the moment. and this guy films everything he does. and just. we don’t need this sob

BONUS:

everyone this is Agoyamato Tsutsutaka and Togeike Chikuchi. that’s literally all this is. just their names. did we really need to know this lol oh well

[iris-sistibly]

4R’s: Encantadia Season 2 (March 27, 2017 episode review)

Episode 181

(Iris-message: Listening to a shit ton of upbeat songs to lessen the heavy feeling while writing this whole review, last night’s ep was sick af)

Recap:

E correi diu, Avisala meiste: Wahid and Lira

Lira mourned for the death of Mira.

Lira however didn’t even had the chance to give Mira a decent funeral, she had to getaway from the hands of Asval and Andora. She went ivictus with Mira’s corpse, Lira was remorseful and repeatedly asked for apology to Mira for failing to save her. Asval and Andora found her, fortunately before the two even lay a finger on Lira, Wahid came to the rescue, Lira was able to escape, Andora followed her, Asval fought Wahid. Though Wahid is a really skilled warrior despite being cowardly, Asval was much stronger and was able to inflict a fatal wound on Wahid, the barbaro fell, torned between life and death, but the excruciating pain did not hinder him from stopping Asval. The latter though gave him one last chance to live—that is if Wahid choose to surrender and become one of them, and as for love, he’ll find it in another woman. Wahid recalled all of times he spent with Lira and came to a realization how much he loves her, in the end, Wahid still chose to protect Lira. “Hanggang wakas!” those were his last words before Asval gave the final blow and finally taking Wahid’s life.

Andora caught Lira once again, and though the former was fully aware that she cannot kill Lira that easily, Andora was still free to hold her as captive and torture her as she pleases until she discovers a way to finally kill her. Amarro and Lila Sari appeared, Andora ordered the two other Mashnas to take her away, Lira begged Lila Sari and Amarro to let her go, but the two cannot be persuaded, there were hints of concern in Lila Sari and Amarro’s voices as they tell Lira to just surrender and go with them, but being stubborn is typical for any sang’gre, Lira was left with no choice but to fight for her freedom.

Ariana and Muyak took a different direction just like Pao Pao and Luna. Ariana remembered Lira and became worried about her, something told her she had to go back, despite of Muyak’s disagreement, Ariana went on her way. She found Lira, single-handedly fighting the vidaljes, Ariana quickly hid herself behind a huge rock and witnessed everything. Lira would have taken down the two Mashnas, but a shocking turn of event led her to an inevitable fate. Lira was shot by a foreign weapon, a weapon that the goddess Ether ordered to get from the mortal world, a weapon that is beyond what Lira’s blessing can shield—a gun. Lira held on to dear life as she tried to escape from her perpetrators, Asval shot her, again, and again, and again, Lira’s life was slowly ebbing away as her body received more bullets, Lira saw a vision of her mother…in Devas. Lira smiled as Asval shot her for the last time, she accepted her death to finally be reunited with the mother she always longed for. Ariana saw everything and was pained at the sight of Lira’s dead body, when the four Mashnas left, Ariana cradled Lira’s body, and mourned for her death.

Imaw and Wantuk were thankfully alive, terror struck the two as they saw Gilas’ corpse, they had to seek help to save the remaining guardians, using his balinatataw, he sent a message to Hara-Durye Cassiopeia to let her know what is happening.

The monster from Etheria

The humongous monster is called Kubur, a beast created from the air, spirit and earth gems. It was as tall as Lireo’s towers, and a very dangerous animal, it’s strength can break anything even the barriers of Lireo. Pirena tried to defend the palace by using her fire gem and blasted infernal flame to it’s body, but the monster seemed unaffected. Alena used her water gem to create a tidal wave, it shook the Kubur, but it wasn’t enough to drown it to death. Alena and Pirena tried combining their gems’ powers but it did not even affect the beast. The diwatas sensed that Avria must have created the monster from the three gems in her possession which is why it cannot be killed using the fire and water gems. Pirena proposed to fight the monster using sheer force and weapons, Ybrahim and Cassiopeia agreed. Aquil and Hitano were tasked to facilitate an escape route for the other encantados, while Ybrahim ordered Mayca to get an airship and prepared to attack from above. All of a sudden, Pirena felt something strange—her daughter’s presence. Pirena was relieved that she wasn’t there and hoped that Mira and the rest are safe.

Pirena, Cassiopeia and Ybrahim simultaneously attacked the Kubur. Ybrahim accidentally got swatted by the monster but was saved by Alena’s water gem, they noticed that they seemed to only inflict light scratches to the animal. Alena noticed that the monster seemed to have no power or skill on it’s own, it only mimicks their actions and counterattacks by returning to it’s enemies whatever is inflicted on it, the diwatas thought of using their powers once again, if they shoot tremendous amount of energy towards the monster, like continuously filling a glass with water, it will overflow thus it will be too much for the Kubur and will eventually die. But two gems weren’t enough, Alena quickly retrieved Adhara and Mine-a’s staffs from the armory and used it along with the gems, with the scepters and the brilyantes’ powers combined, the monster was taken down thanks to Alena’s quick thinking. It was a success for the diwatas, but then Cassiopeia saw a floating energy ball, she knew it was from Imaw and felt something was not right, Hara-Durye immediately left Lireo leaving the sang’gres puzzled and having a very bad feeling about it.

Rave/s:

💎 So many character deaths tonight, but for their final performance, Andre, Mikee, Jake and Kate deserve a huge shout out for portraying their characters so well. It was very touching how Wahid’s love for Lira turned him into a brave man, ready to defend his beloved until the end, I would love to see the more badass side of Wahid, and development with his relationship with Lira, but sad to say I will no longer see that. I’m gonna miss his comical and idiotic stints, thank you Andre for being one of the show’s happy pills. Lira, Encantadia’s ray of sunshine, I’m going to miss your contagious smile, your stubbornness, your havey punchlines, kudos to Mikee for making me love Lira more than ever. I rooted for Mikee since her first appearance and although there were some days where she disappointed me the most, Mikee proved that even a newbie like her can be a stand-out performer. Mira, I haven’t gotten over your death, I haven’t gotten over all of your deaths, but I’m gonna miss you big time, at least you’re still with your bessy right? Keep on slaying Kate! And Jake, your stay might be too short, but it was sweet, you showed Gilas’ bravery and determination and it’s very inspiring especially to the young viewers. I have no idea what’s gonna happen next, Lira and Mira really died in the original series, but Lira returned from Devas in the final saga so I’m kinda hoping it will be the same for Lira ’16. Maybe, just maybe Lira, Mira and Gilas will permitted to return to Encantadia even just to fulfill their roles as saviors of Encantadia.

💚 On a lighter note, I am very surprised at how Alena is becoming so witty and snappy when it comes to battle strategies, yay Leny! So happy that she’s finally owning it. That aside I am having this feeling of where this whole Lira death arc is going—Ariana will become guilty for not being able to help Lira thus she will carry this burden and do everything to make it up to Ybrahim, I don’t know in what way is she going to do that, but it will pave way for them to become closer, sharing the same pain of losing their daughter for the second time, although Ariana is still unaware that she is Amihan version 2 OR Alena will sympathize with Ybrahim and will become his friend and some sort of spark will rekindle thus making way for a possible AleBarro reunion which I’m praying to the gods not to happen, I would rather see them maintain a friendly relationship with each other, and Alena seemed to not care anymore and Ybrahim is still thankfully uninterested af, but yeah, “love” will take advantage of Ybrahim’s fragile state big time, and with Manik as the asa boy in this whole love square thing, this will surely drive everyone nuts.

💜 I’m comforting myself with the idea of Lira returning to Encantadia, in book three she broke Emre’s rules and escaped Devas thus making a huge comeback in Enca. Maybe Lira will do the same especially when she finds out that Ariana is Amihan’s sarkosi and Encantadia is once again in great danger, knowing Lira, I have high hopes for her comeback, preferably with Mira and Gilas…and Wahid.

Rant/s:

😢 I am really, really disappointed at Ariana! How can she just watch Lira die in the hands of Asval? I’m so sorry but I am beyond disappointed and angry. It was implied in the earlier episodes that she felt some sort of connection between her and Lira yet it didn’t surface in this episode, it was the perfect time for her to feel that urge to protect Lira at all cost yet she did NOTHING, absolutely nothing. At this point, I have lost all hope, and all the enthusiasm with the story. The cast was splendid, but like I said in my previous post I don’t like how the story is “progressing,” nakakawala ng gana, why choose Lira and Mira as gem keepers if they’re just going to die anyway? Why did Cassiopeia hailed Lira as the savior of Encantadia if she hasn’t really proved it yet? She reunited the four sang’gres, but it was Amihan who saved Encantadia. I was kinda hoping during the first week of season two that Lira will become a sang’gre that is of the same level as her Ashtis, but seeing her being mercilessly killed, without being able to properly defend herself is NOT something heroic. She’s a heroine, born from a clan of the most powerful diwatas and Sapirians who are masters in combat. Her death was pathetic, and nothing is more painful than seeing her in that state. I am angry, so angry. I feel bad for both Pirena and Ybrahim for losing their most treasured daughters because of Cassiopeia’s stupidity. How can she not remember that big mistake? How can fate be so cruel to Ybrahim? He lost his father, his beloved Amihan, and although she returned she had no idea who she was and worse is that she is betrothed to someone else, and now his only reason to live is gone. How can destiny be so evil to Pirena? All she ever wanted was to be with her daughter and guide her all the way, and maybe watch her with pride as she ascends the throne of Hathoria or even Lireo if Lira becomes queen of Sapiro. I don’t like this twist, I am shook in the worst way possible.

Best performer/s for this episode: Everyone 💎

Rating: 10 out of 10💎s (that’s for the cast!)

Photo credits: From Twitter: @GMAEncantadia (Encantadia 2016-2017 official twitter acct) @gmanetwork (GMA Network); official website: gmanetwork.com @GMADrama (GMA Drama)

From Facebook: Encantadia 2016; official website: encantadia.com.ph

Video credits: GMA Network via YouTube & dailymotion

[yuli-ban]

Anarchy in Prague/Belle Grand-Mär Megapost

See, now this is a megapost. The goth one was only about two unique pictures. This one has three.

Current theme song for Anarchy in Prague. Harkens back to the days when it was described as a “Stoner Rock Scott Pilgrim”. 

Drawn by @dalf

She’s 27 at the time the story starts. She is literally on the edge of being a Millennial (I’m one of those who thinks the cut-off between Millennials/Generation Y and iGeneration/Generation Z should be 2001, but some say it’s actually 1996).

Drawn by @alouissever 

If two people share a 1-Up, how would that work? Also, you can tell they’re getting close to 30 just by how stoned they look when, in fact, they’re trying to stay awake for New Year’s. I love this aspect of Anarchie, rambling about how Millennials are growing old and are no longer the dominant youth generation. In 2024 (which is 7 years away), there will be 40-something Millennials. I’ll be 30, holy fucking mother of fathers.

Drawn by @dalf

Muriel and Malfiore. Pan’s goth “girls”. Muriel’s, like, 28. However, Malfiore/Marie is 37. She’s still a Millennial, yo. 2024-37=1987. She’s a fucking ‘90s kid and she’s already growing some grays and finding the protoforms of what will one day become wrinkles.

Drawn by @alouissever

Arthur and his sister, Daria (yes, I know it was Darya; deal with it). Daria’s nonplussed about how childish Venus remains.

Drawn by @alouissever

I actually couldn’t find the bottom image for the longest time, so I think this is the first time I’ve posted it to Tumblr. See? It’s not all reposts. I kinda like how Venus looks like a ghost in the second picture, but Dalf forgot about the Saint Vitus logo! And yes, that’s a Pepper robot. I imagined that they might gain a bit more utility between now and 2024. Also, funny thing about Venus being a “hipster”. She’s actually not. She’s more of a moddie than a hipster. But since Arthur’s a hipster, she sometimes tries to be one ironically.

Drawn by @dalf

Arthur Tartakovsky, Venus’s ultra-hipster boyfriend. This was before he gained his ironic mustache. He used to be in an indie pop band in an earlier draft, but nowadays he’s still in an indie pop band. The actual change was his other hobby: before, he was a comic artist. Now he’s an indie game dev specializing in retro games and VR cyberpunk. The world of indie game devs can get hectic, especially in a tight job market. He has to deal with rival devs sabotaging each other and himself sometimes, which is why he developed electrokinetic powers.

Early sketches of the original trio. Only Venus has really changed visually. She was much less notable.

Drawn by @dalf

I already did the posts where @pan-pizza gets his nuts crushed. I see no reason why I should post them again other than to goad Pan into reblogging this megapost. Pan, do not  reblog this.

Drawn by @alouissever

Drawn/animated by @spookyfishcakes

Drawn by @nicolas-px-art

Early form of Malfiore. She always wears Ed’s clothes (a la Ed Edd n Eddy), but it was much more faithful in the earliest sketches. Just ask Alouisse-Ver. Also, she used to have Daria’s hairstyle.

Muriel’s first sketch, back before she had her top hat. I created her as a loveletter to Pan Pizza and his gothosexual tendencies; Malfiore was always going to be a part of the story.

Drawn by @alouissever

Anarchie’s still got a lotta stoner rock in it (Venus’s band and their scene mates are all either stoner rock or heavy rock), but even back in 2014 when I first created the story, I left some room for indie rock. Nowadays, they both take up an equal amount of space. If it ever becomes a movie or a cartoon, it’ll probably be the only one in history where the OST consists of Nebula, Kyuss, Radio Moscow, and Orange Goblin right alongside The Pillows, Kodaline, Arctic Monkeys, and Porno Mags. Radiohead one second, Pentagram the next.

And, for now, that’s all for Anarchie. I’ve yet to commission pictures of Kalo, Syd, Adamski, or Azura Meco, but those are coming. I’m just actually working on the story. Shocker, I know. Even I’m surprised. I just did a 30,000 word outline in about 10 days; the real rough draft should be finished by April.

And now for BGM, which is basically “Anarchie + Cyberdelic Pharmaceuticals”. The early posts here don’t show that off well, but the world will know...

Title card still pending.... I made that 3 yea— holy fuck, I made that three years ago?! How is it 2017 already? 

Pure stardream. It sounds like dreamrock, honestly. The moment I heard this, I knew I had found BGM’s BGM. No pun intended. It was either this or Stand Up. 

Belle. Belle Grand-Mär. British moddie, real name “Indira Elizabeth Jones”, elective mute, severe and antisocial, freeskating and freerunning traceause, yadayadayada. If Venus was a female Scott Pilgrim fused with Murdoc Niccals, Belle is Ramona Flowers + Haruko Haruhara + Ryuko Matoi + Garnet + a mime + Neku Sakuraba + a silent cartoon character. I’m glad I’m a writer. Try creating a silent character! You’d better have mastered visual emotion.

Aurora. Real name “Farideh Moradi”, Persian-Briton moddie, freerunning traceuse, Belle’s closest friend and whatnot. She literally got her name from the reference to the Aurora Borealis in A Flock of Seagull’s uber-80′s hit “I Ran (So Far Away)”. The 2020′s are basically the ‘80s with more cyberdelia, after all.

Bomb. Real name “Madeleine Violetta Dumont”, French moddie, actually dead and works as a psychokinetic grim reaper whenever she feels like it. Also Belle’s rival and foil. Freeskating traceuse. She was created in 2009 as the lead character in a story that was literally “JSRF: Jet Set Radio Future + The World Ends With You”. This is why she seems like someone badly took a character from each of those games and fused them together.

Drawn by @alouissever

Parov Stelar’s beautiful little electroswing track. It’s so 2020′s.  BGM has much more of a stardream atmosphere than the down-to-earth feel of Anarchie. There’s a lot more chiptune, dreamier rock, electrofunk, and whatnot. If you took the soundtrack to Super Mario Galaxy and Steven Universe, mixed it with the soundtrack to Jet Set Radio Future, and made it thrice as eclectic, you’d get something like BGM’s presumed BGM.

You may have noticed that all the characters for BGM thus far are moddies. That’s no mistake or coincidence— it’s a moddie story. It has a stronger character than Anarchie, to the point I can even call it when aspects of Anarchie “seem like something out of BGM”.  Moddies are already getting started, though no one’s yet calling them moddies. But you see how vaporwave’s gotten so big? How neon and pixel art is dominating Tumblr? Seapunk and dyed hair are everywhere, everyone loves hallucinogenics, and everyone loves the ‘80s once more. Major Lazer, for the fucking win. Right now, we say that these are signs of hipsterdom. But in the 2020s, we’re going to look back and realize what it really was— the birth of the moddies. We’ve not yet reached the moddies— we still need a Transhuman Be-In, cheaper OLEDs, and a Sgt. Pepper moment for electronic music (where people stop seeing it as purely dance music). And I don’t see anyone who owns a robot like Pepper or ASIMO yet either. And while luminescent hair is definitely a thing, it’s not yet become a common thing. Nor has leaving up Christmas lights all year, or being obsessed with bright primary colors.

But we’re getting there. And the thing that will trigger the final separation between post-hipsters and moddies isn’t a Transhuman Be-In, but simply time: us Millennials are indeed growing older. I was born in ‘94, and I’m 22 going on 23. Millennials brought back hipsterdom, but ‘10s hipsters suffered a brutal blow due to the loss of Bernie Sanders and the rise of Donald Trump. Our whole zeitgeist became fragile. Hence why people are looking for harder music instead of the previously comfortably twee indie pop and nu-folk. Being vintage and authentic hasn’t helped us one bit, and the kids— those younger than ourselves— don’t believe in our ideals. They just see a blizzard.  Some may mock the hair colors, but they secretly love it. They want something more than what Millennials are offering. They are loving several aspects of what’s big— aforementioned things like vaporwave, electronic music, dyed hair, cyberpunk revivalism, ‘80s and ‘90s love, etc.— but other aspects, they are eager to discard. There’s a strain of neo-futurism in the iGeneration, which isn’t surprising considering they were raised as something of a proto-cyborg generation.

And that’s the moddies in a nutshell. Kids who recognize they live in “The Future™” and wish to own it. They don’t just listen to electronic music because it’s cool; it also aids that whole sense of living in years that previous generations thought were purely sci-fi. They don’t see electronic music as just dance club/background music. They want electronic versions of prog rock and conscious hip hop. They’re more than happy to drop acid and fuck robots. They don’t love the obsession with a minimalist future with sterile colors— they want neon. Neon lights, neon paint, and a cyberdelic attitude. If that means making cities look like one giant rave, so be it. Because ha ha, they live in the Future.

You can forgive them for their incredible optimism; they’re just kids. And they want you to know it.

[burntsystems]

Burntsystems historical bio

Burntsystems is the pseudonym created in the early 1990's by electronic musician Christian V. Born Heidelberg West Germany to a Norwegian Mother and his father an Army Chopper pilot from Bronx NYC brought the turn of the century European Goth, techno & industrial, his sister’s disco back in the late 70’s, 80's pop and new wave and that sampler from Radio shack got on layaway when he was a young American at just 11 years old. (His Dad who rocked out every night on an acoustic guitar-singing Nitty Gritty, classic 50’s bands and his own Rockabilly originals) His Norwegian uncle would play piano and singing his head off every summer from ages 1-10. Reel to reel listening of his quite famous Grandfathers Norwegian Opera. His Mom’s choir practice live from ages 0-33. Christian V was destined to become a singer/songwriter. Taught classical violin and piano in grade school and joined the junior high chorus team by 6th grade-influenced by his mother’s classical, his father’s classic rock, older sisters Disco, Euro-techno, Philly electro, D.C.’s hip hop/go-go (was known to break dance in the 80’s when it was called “rap”) Boston’s rave, L.A.’s happy hardcore & rap, goa, Goldie’s jungle, Cosmic Baby trance, Moby’s punk, gothic metal (SOM-Die Krupp’s, Die Form Deine Lakaien), Metallica, Iron Maiden metal, ambient (ORB), acid jazz (Calypso from N’Orleans) electro clash, Johnny Cash, LedZep hair bands, Air bands, Pink Floyd, Ziggy Stardust, Zoot suit Big Bands and rubber bands. You name it. Midi programming & sampling began while stationed in Bavaria under the careful tutelage of Bob Bozak (A music Theory professor in the same Army unit) under band name “Burnt Republic” (1992) taught to sequence the difficult lead synthesizer lines, so Christian could concentrate on the singing, lyrical placement and grooving with the lead guitarist. Multi track recording and mastering via cassette, ZIP DRIVES and eventually ADAT, then on his own utilizing many of the past and current DAW’s both MAC & PC. Currently a fan of Adobe Soundbooth and Logic 10. The drums became the trusty "Megabyte" when the session drummer would not show and the 1.256 MB Roland R-70 would take on the percussion roll. Bass, when the bass player exited the service and then on his own upon completion of his Army term. Whereupon, Christian V. began the development of his own one man band or “Megabite/Burntrobot” producer/composer era from 1993-1996 where he met a classically trained soprano singer named Space girl Z (aka Zoe Levan) “BURNT! Spacepop (1997-2001) was a pioneer of the many electronica/techno duos to come in the 21st century and BURNT! created their own brand of music known today as Technopera©. They covered many well-known artists via Roland midi groove machines, such as Madonna, Michael Jackson and the Beetles and mixing in their own special blend of original songs called Spacepop. Gaining recognition via Jazz radio station plays in the DC area and was a leader in DJ & electronic music sponsored events in the Southwestern US. Collaborations began again in the Washington DC area after the “BURNT!” tour ended in early 2001. Christian V. returned to the roots of midi production and composing and utilizing the newest DAW’s on PC (2002-2010) & eventually Apple from 2010-Present. Posting regular new original music on the YouTube, Myspace and once defunct MP3.com and LAST.FM via dial up and is now being played in Eastern Europe apparently under “Burntsystems” We look forward to both new and “B Sides” of now soon to be available masters from live shows in the 1990’s and Christian V’s early solo work (2003-2009). 2010-Present connected under the name “ Angelpirate ”to the Sonic Circuits compilation from Pyramid Atlantic Records. In Washington DC, local Pop stars, "Beatnik Betty" collaborated for the Witchrock album debut on iTunes in 2013-after Christian’s regular musings and remixes of her a Capella vocals and her former band “Dead Violets” eventually performing lives shows at the Hard Rock via PinkJams! 2014 brought the compilation side out in force with vocalists Rhiannon Groom, Liz S., Su, the live drummer Nate O. from the Witchrock shows of 2012-2013 & Tombstones and the styling’s of “Trapdoor exit” for creative remixes, new song and sound creations using the latest most creative musical technological tools. Christian V. had gone very minimal in hardware since coming from the days of trucks full of gear taking an hour or more to set up to a more hands on interface via Native Instruments Maschine with 20 years of samples in his library, hundreds of VSTS, homemade & store bought effects. After the success of the compilation album "White light Red Light" a new idea of BEING20, a new sub label of Burntsystems came into being. Being 20 a band, a stage for Being 20, thoughts on Being 20. The late part of generation Y with artists Ages 19-30 working with the experienced producer of Burntsystems, Christian V. for creation of music videos, demos & singles. The upcoming 2016 album "Coal Garden" is one that has people taking notice that Christian V. is paying homage to his roots for developing electronic music to the next level using what he knows, from where he's been and working with many old friends, including JPJ05, Lil B. Rob0T, MM & Tony G. along with fan favorites, Megabyte. The single “Never Seen SW (radio edit)” and accompanying music video brought much praise and notoriety under the Jeremiah Saint charity album “DEATHMASS 7” in late 2015. Coal Garden will be Burntsystems 3rd Worldwide digital release and is all set for Spring Solstice 2016 with 12 new songs and over an hour over new music with influences from the 1960’s to Present. Now with follow up TELEPATHY WAR fall 2017! “Art explains everything”