#I aspirate my s somewhat frequently

[durn3h]

What other atypical trait should I adopt into my Spanish?

[tetsunabouquet]

Crossover Headcanon: Pairings

A/N: Because the fandoms I write for are in the teenage media space, I thought of which would be pairings ideal for crossovers, from romantic to friendship. These are the characters from the fandoms I write for that I could see work well together as the cast for a crossover AU.

-Joco from Shaman King and Izuki from Kuroko's Basketball would be the best of friends. In an alternate universe, these two are aspiring comedians trying to come up with an act that could change the world together. I can also see Izuki's family taking Joco in and giving him a place to stay once they learnt their son befriended a homeless orphan as well as that Izuki's family would be a great home for Joco. These two together have a tendency to cause Hyuga to develop a headache. Especially when Kiyoshi decides to join in on the fun. -Vert from Hyperdimension Neptunia wants to adopt KNB's Momoi. Because of their similar personalities and chests, Vert's obsession with wanting a little sister kicks in whenever she sees Momoi and she wants to be her big sister. -Senri from Vampire Knight actually gets along with Shu Sakamaki from Diabolik Lovers. Shu is Senri's casual go-to friend for peaceful sleepovers. Takuma may join if he's in a calm reading mood. -A part of my soul is convinced Celine Montclaire from the Shadowhunter Chronicles would have been a perfect fit for Lyserg Diethel. A rich, British, handsome nice man with a dark side? That's a description that befits both Stephen and Lyserg. Whereas Celine's fragile air that makes everyone adore her reminds me of Jeanne. It just works! -Makoto Tachibana and Kiyoshi Teppei are distant cousins. If there's an AU where both Free! and KNB exist in the same universe, there is no way in hell these two aren't related. -Kagami from Miraculous Ladybug is member of one of the book clubs Hyperdimension Neptunia's Blanc frequently attends. The two often exchange light novel reccomendations. -Plutia from Hyperdimension Neptunia is related to Cordelia Sakamaki. Kanato is the only one of her distant cousins that she somewhat likes. -KNB's Kise is the grandchild of Jace Herondale from the Shadowhunter Chronicles. Remember how Jace had a one night stand before dating Clary? Kise's mom was born out of that one night stand. Supremely handsome, golden eyes and Kise is a prodigy at pretty much every sport because of his copying ability? I swear, Kise is ripe for a fanfic where he discovers he and his sisters are the new lost Herondales. -Zoe from MLB's father actually bought a painting by Jocelyn Fairchild from the Shadowhunter Chronicles once. -Speaking of MLB X TSC crossovers, never put Plagg and Magnus in the same room unless you want another catastrophy worthy of the extinction of the dinosaurs to happen. -Shaman King's Ryu got rejected by TSC's Isabelle Lightwood in the past. -Gabriel Agreste from MLB actually was the tailor who made the lolita dresses for Iron Maiden Jeanne (Shaman King). Marco wanted nothing but the best of France for his French adoptee. -Catarina Loss from TSC was amongst the nurses who took care of KNB's Kiyoshi Teppei when he was in America for his surgery. -KNB's Murasakibara is one of the few people who buy Horohoro's candy (Shaman King). As a matter of fact, the only reason Horohoro's still producing the flop-candy is because Murasakibara buys big enough batches to store at Yosen for the production to continue. -Speaking of KNB and SK, I actually think Momoi and Tamao are cousins but they never met due to Tamao being orphaned at such a young age. -Because of Hyperdimension Neptunia's Vert big chest but also the way she is supposed to be a blonde American beauty and KNB's Aomine has a thing for Marilyn Monroe, he'd develop a crush on Vert if they'd ever meet. The fact she's a goddess and could whoop his ass doesn't intimidates him at all. -Free!'s Rin Matsuoka and KNB's Kagami actually were forced to sit across one another at the Maji Burger once when it was busy and there was no other seat for Kagami available but the empty one across Rin's. The two actually shared a chat and once they actually learnt they had a few things in common such as being an athlete and having studied abroad in an English speaking country, they decided to exchange emails to hang out some time.

[regretsofalifeandlovelost]

Part One

I grew up in a family where the idea of sex was considered to be dirty, my mother would fast forward sex scenes in M15 movies. That still happens today even though we all of my siblings are now in their 40's. This sets the scene for an awkward life with a series of very uncomfortable moments. I have always been very body concious, my mother would tease me as a teenager. Her thought was that it would toughen me up. Instead it focused me on the issues and gave me chronic body image problems.

In highschool I had a few crushes on boys. I would fantisie and think about them in the romantic comedy idea of what a relationship was. I would dream about getting married with the big brand engagement ring. It was always a picture perfect dream of what life would be. I did not end up dating until I was 19. He was a Catholic who lived all their values except for not having sex before marriage. We had an uncomfortable sexual relationship where he would take and never give. It somewhat suited me as we could have the lights off, hiding my body and it made him happy. The sex felt good but it was never great, it was always him finishing and that was that. I really started to like giving blow jobs because it was something that I could give him, he never offered to return any oral on me. We dated for a few years and despite the relationship being hollow when he broke it off with me I was heart broken. It's funny how when you look back you think why oh why.

I remained single for a while and started to go out to night clubs, I met a guy there who was everything that I aspired to be from my teenage fantasy of what a relationship should be, he was popular, very good looking and very wealthy. We hooked up on the first night after clubbing. Our relationship was again very one way, I was completely smitten with him. Looking back I was clingy and submissive, I was not myself because I was aspiring to try and fullfill my teenage dream. The sex was a story of him taking, although this time he refused to use protection relying solely on pulling out. I further developed my BJ technique and this boyfriend loved it. He was always happy to receive and I was happy to please. I loved sucking his cock and giving him pleasure. It gave me a huge boost in self confidence when he even spoke to his friends about my skills in this regard. After 6 months he broke it off with me and I was heart broken. I didn't leave the house and fell into a state of deep depression. A few weeks later we got back together although only for a week of rampant sex before he again broke it off with me. Being weak I then became a booty call when he was drunk for a month or so before he found a new girlfriend. I was heart broken and fell into a cycle of depression again. Not eating for days on end, not leaving my room and not going to work. I almost lost my job.

After a month of this I managed to pull myself together and return to some sense of normal. My life became consumed with getting out clubbing and trying to forget the relationship. It was tough because we would frequently run into my ex and the waves of emotion would return. We started to attend different clubs and over the next year I would see less and less of him and my life was improving. My life was now completely taken by my friendship with my sister and her friends. We would party hard, sleep in and work to start the whole cycle again the next week. It was a great time with few problems.

After about 18 months my sister met a guy and my life started to fall apart again. I hated the guy, he was taking the most important person in my life away from me and I made sure that she and him both knew it.

[simplybakugou]

Dial Tone

↝ Following the death of your sister you have a habit of texting her phone number in an attempt to ease the pain you’re feeling. After some time, someone finally responds to your texts.

BINGO SPACE: Wrong Number

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!kirishima x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: slight angst; talks about the death of a loved one; fluff  ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2818

A/N: yes this is another @bnhabookclub​ bingo piece lmao. this was inspired by the time that i received a text from a dad who had told me his late daughter owned my phone number and it broke my heart. i’ve seen similar stories to this on twitter and i wanted to do my own spin on it but through a fic!

thank you to the anon who requested for kirishima for this prompt! and the transparent kirishima cap in the banner is from the bnha bookclub google drive.

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 08.15.2020✐

The air felt heavy as it usually did whenever you visited that dark and eerie place the same time every month. The sky was filled with dark grey clouds and soft rain droplets began pelting your body as you clapped your hands and bowed your head in front of the tombstone. You rose to your feet, placing the fresh bouquet of flowers you had purchased in front of the urn beside the tombstone and dusted off the dirt on your kneecaps.

Each raindrop harshly attacked you as they fell as soon enough you were drenched as you walked towards your car, your tears melding with the droplets streaking your cheeks. Finally you arrived by your car, sitting in the driver’s side as the leather seat became wet from your body.

This time of the month was always the hardest for you, the suffocating feeling that always remained in your chest never left since you had visited your sister’s grave.

Nonetheless you knew you had to keep moving on, knowing that if you sat around with your thoughts you would just make yourself more upset than you already were. You started your vehicle and pulled out of the cemetery and onto the main road, making your way home.

Although it didn’t seem like it, life wasn’t always so miserable for you. There was a time when you were happy, a time where you could look back at with adoration.

When you were starting high school, you were attending the esteemed U.A. High, pursuing your dream of becoming a hero just as every other kid your age attending a hero school was aspiring to do. Your parents had both passed away in a car accident when you were young and you were left in your older sister, (S/N)’s care. She supported you all the way, acting as the mother and father you had no memory of but desperately wanted as you could only feel envious of the other kids who had their parents attend all of their ceremonies and functions.

But it wasn’t so bad, having your sister supporting you as best as she could to make do with the unfortunate situation you were both put in.

Although things were bright for a short period of time, you were granted a heartbreaking and life changing call one day after school. You were just about to finish up your first year at U.A. and if constantly dealing with the League of Villains or schoolwork wasn’t enough, you found out about (S/N) having a terminal disease.

The doctors gave you and your sister their condolences, explaining that (S/N) was undergoing a disease as a result of her quirk not being able to maintain her body as it was slowly killing her from the inside out. Since you were informed of this unfortunate event, you dropped out of the hero course in U.A., having to pursue a part time job on top of taking online classes to balance paying for your sister’s medical bills as well as wanting to still be able to have a high school diploma (even if it wouldn’t be as a hero).

It broke your heart to have to leave your friends and not be able to chase after your biggest dream but nothing meant more to you than your sister’s health. She had taken care of you for so long; now it was your turn to return the favor.

Although you had left U.A. High, your friends that you had gotten quite close to made sure to visit the hospital in which you were temporarily staying at from time to time after school. Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari were the ones who visited the most and they would even get Bakugou to come along on certain days as well. It made you feel reassured to have people being there for you during a difficult time in your life.

But as the years passed and your previous classmates graduated, their frequent visits turned to occasional texts here and there as their lives took a full 180 as they were thrusted into the craziness that comes with being a pro hero. You understood the position they were in and would often watch the news with your sister, feeling proud as you heard story after story of your friends saving people during their times of need.

Unfortunately with time, (S/N) lost her long battle with her terminal disease and even though you knew it was bound to happen, there was no way you would ever be able to subsidize the pain you were feeling following her passing. 

For the longest time you felt alone and there were times you still felt bedridden with sorrow and desolation, still feeling the pain of your sister’s passing as it had only been a year since her death. 

In order to feel somewhat at peace, you would still text your sister’s old phone number everyday. When you were still in school and she was looking after you, you had to let her know if you were eating, what time you got home, and things in this similar nature as (S/N) was often working and wanted to check up on you when you were home alone. This became a force of habit and you didn’t want to stop, using this new texting method as a way for you to settle your own mind and give yourself some peace by not breaking this procedure that your sister had you do.

You would even call her phone every now and then, wanting to hear her sweet voice through her voicemail. It was silly, you knew it was, but this was the only thing that was keeping you sane. When you lose someone you love in your life, someone who was by your side at all times, they don’t dissipate in thin air right when they die. You lose them slowly. From when you wake up and realize breakfast isn’t ready or when you realized you didn’t have anyone to talk to, that’s when it hits you. Your sister was gone and now you had to learn how to live without her.

You pulled into the parking lot of the bookstore, letting out a sigh as you exited the vehicle. The first day of every month for the past year since your sister died you would visit her grave for a little chat. It gave you a peace of mind to be able to speak with her in what seemed like the closest thing to “a talk in person” as you could. Sometimes texting her number or listening to her voicemail on repeat wasn’t enough.

“(L/N)! You’re here!” Aiko, one of your employees, exclaimed as you walked inside. “I thought you weren’t going to come in today.”

You shrugged, slipping off your soaked coat onto the hanger by the front desk. “I didn’t feel like staying home alone so I might as well sell some books instead.”

Aiko nodded, getting up to put back some misplaced books that customers had strewn around randomly. You sat down as she went to the back, leaning back in your chair as you stared up at the ceiling.

The emptiness inside you, a feeling that you had grown accustomed to by now no matter how much it hurt, felt stronger than usual that day. You pulled your phone out from your pocket, sending a quick message to your sister to let her know you had gotten to work safely. Within minutes, just as you were about to put your phone away and get to work, the usual “delivered” sign under your message changed into “read,” indicating that someone had seen your message. That’s weird… maybe a glitch?

Still it was unsettling so you decided to call (S/N)’s number, waiting patiently as the phone began to ring. With each ring your suspicions lessened as you assumed the read receipt was a mistake. Just as you were about to hang up, you could hear someone pick up their phone from the other line.

“Hello?” A man’s voice asked from the other side and you nearly slipped off your chair from shock, not expecting to hear a live voice. You immediately hung up, looking back at your sister’s number as you were completely discombobulated from what had happened. You assumed that one of these days (S/N)’s number would be given to another person but you still were taken aback to hear another person’s voice.

***

The events from the day before were quickly vanished from your mind as you had to tend to customers right after the mysterious man picked up your call. You returned home, already tired from visiting your sister and working the whole day didn’t help with that. You even sent the number a message about what you had eaten for dinner, the lack of a reply making you forget once again.

In fact, you couldn’t even remember what had happened yesterday as you absentmindedly texted (S/N) as you usually did.

Y/N: I’m heading out. Hopefully today will be better than yesterday. Love you and I miss you!

Just as you hit the “send” button for the message, realization sets in as you wanted to smack yourself for forgetting that another person had gotten the number. Right when you were about to send an apology message, the unknown man sent you a message back.

MAN: Um… Who is this?

You were quick to write up an explanation.

Y/N: Sorry, my older sister used to own this phone number. She used to make me text her whenever I ate or left the house so I got used to sending these messages. She passed away a year ago and I still send the texts. I’m sorry for bothering with these silly texts. You won’t have to deal with them from now on.

You sent your explanation, deciding to delete the messages and shoving your phone into your pocket. It was nice to maintain this habit of yours while it lasted but it was time to let bygones be bygones. You didn’t bother to read the man’s response as you left for another day of work.

***

The rest of the day passed like every other day did, slow and filled with your own loneliness. You bowed to and thanked your last customer of the day and let out a big sigh as you began closing up the shop, putting away any books dispersed around the shelves and taking the cash from the register.

You turned the small TV in the corner off as well, smiling at the sight of Bakugou and Kaminari finishing up a mission and successfully catching a villain as they were acknowledged for their bravery on the news. You couldn’t express how proud you felt when you saw your friends, or any of your classmates really, on the news for their achievements as they continued to save as many people as they possibly could. 

Just as you were grabbing your things to leave, your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced at it, furrowing your brows at the sign of your sister’s name, which you still hadn’t removed from your contacts, sending you a message.

MAN: Did you eat dinner?

You were beyond puzzled. Did he mean to send this to you? 

Y/N: I think you have the wrong number…

MAN: You’re the one who sent me a message about my number belonging to my sister, right?

How odd… It wasn’t a mistake then.

Y/N: Yes, that’s me. But why did you ask if I ate dinner?

MAN: Oh well I saw your text from two nights ago talking about what you ate for dinner. At first I didn’t think about it but then you explained why you texted this number and I just wanted to know if you ate dinner? Since you usually let your sister know if you did.

You smiled at the message. Whoever this man was, he seemed genuine and considerate. 

Y/N: You’re very sweet. You don’t have to worry about those texts I used to send. It was a force of habit and I won’t bother you with them again.

He almost immediately responded.

MAN: Don’t worry about that. I’m gonna take that as you didn’t eat dinner.

You didn’t reply initially as you were trying to figure this guy out and before you could muster up a response, he beat you to it.

MAN: From your area code you must be from Musutafu, too. This might be a lot but do you want to grab some dinner? There’s a great place on the intersection by U.A. High School. 

The request was definitely an odd one. You’d never been asked out in this manner, then again it was rare to be asked out like this, but you didn’t want to say no. The mystery man seemed nice and it would be good for you to actually make a friend instead of being alone all day long. If it weren’t for Aiko or your customers, you probably wouldn’t meet another human at all.

Y/N: That sounds nice. Can we meet in an hour if that works for you?

MAN: Sounds good! I get off work then so I’ll see you soon.

***

It got colder just an hour after you closed the bookstore. Miniscule snowflakes fell from the sky, littering the roads and the outside with a white blanket. You waited outside the restaurant that the mystery man told you about. As it was close by U.A. you and your close friends would stop by after school so you knew exactly where he was talking about. You smiled as the memories of the times you spent with your friends whom you missed dearly flooded your mind, reminding you about how lonely you truly were now.

A shiver went down your spine as you rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up. You checked your phone for the time, realizing that he was an hour late. Maybe he got busy at work, you told yourself as you let out a sigh, preparing to leave and go home.

“Hey!” A voice called out from down the road. You turned to the source of the sound, squinting through the snowflakes as you identified a man waving at you with his blinding red hair being the one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb.

As he got closer and closer and you got a better look at his face, your eyes widened as you realized who the man was. “Kirishima?”

Kirishima stood in front of you, giving you a perplexed expression. Usually when people recognized him, they addressed him as Red Riot due to his popularity as a pro hero. But there was something about you that seemed so familiar, something that he couldn’t quite figure out. “Do we know each--” He stopped mid sentence as his eyes grew into the shape of saucers. “Y/N?!”

Before you could say anything else, Kirishima’s face lit up as he was stoked to finally see his old friend again. “How have you been? You look great! Even better than how you did back in U.A.!”

“T-Thank you.” You grew flustered, not expecting to be praised in such a manner. “So you’re the one who got my sister’s number?”

“Yeah. I had to get it changed after a fan ended up leaking my number and I kept getting a ton of messages from random people,” Kirishima said with a laugh, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly. His expression faltered into a more serious one as he glanced down at you. “And I'm sorry to hear about your sister. I know she meant a lot to you and I should’ve visited you guys more after graduation.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy being a hero and all.”

He looked down at you, taking his scarf from his neck and wrapping it around yours. You looked up at him, moving to remove the fabric from around your neck. “Oh no, it’s okay. You don’t have to—”

“You look cold. It’s the least I can do for making you wait so long.” Kirishima smiled, wrapping the end of the scarf over your shoulder once more. “Well I’m glad to see that you’re okay. To be honest I did miss you after all this time.” 

Kirishima opened the door to the restaurant, gesturing for you to go in. “Come on, we can catch up over dinner.” You grinned, entering the building as he followed suit. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt genuinely happy like this and you couldn’t ask for a better person to bring back the happiness that you had been lacking in your life for quite some time. 

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[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter IV

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

A new chapter! I tried my best to develop further the self insert character and clarify more its backstory and clan! I have somethings planned I hope you’ll enjoy. Thank you so much for all you support and I thank you for reading!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter V  soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 307

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything in life has a continuation. Kurapika and (Y/n)'s relationship is also subject to this law. An undeniable detail was that the lives of both subjects were terribly busy and loaded. Notably, the activities that Kurapika was involved in were lightened. (Y/n) held their word to assist him in his cause, as their work turned out to be advantageous. Primarily when it came to retrieving scarlet eyes. Kurapika even recovered two more pairs not long after by the dint of their research.

Another point in common was that the two were- Or at least when they wanted- very organized. The majority of encounters took place after they departed their jobs with the Nostrade. Consisting most frequently in small walks in nearby parks, have coffee or read together. Accommodating conversations that permitted them to know each other.

"What is the reason behind your decision to study psychiatry?" It occurred to Kurapika to bid during a walk. The situation was atypical; people with profitable prior careers didn't take the Hunter exam, not to mention how extremely young (Y/n) was, being just a year younger than him. But knowing the introversion of his partner, he decided to go little by little.

"My grandad was one. I aspired to be similar to him.

He had a treasury full of medicine and psychiatry titles I loved to read, I also sneaked into his conversations on the subject!" -(Y/n) gloated, with a tiny rocking and a smile.-"I find the functioning of the brain stimulating! And I like to help, it makes me feel useful. One of his acquaintances invited me to be his apprentice several times ago. I just accepted." 

It was not rare for them to get together in the same room for each to work on their matters. They spent time in each other's presence. It was what mattered to them. 

~

In the beginning, (Y / n) was the one that expressed questions the most. Especially details that many would judge insignificant.-"What is your preferred flavor of ice cream?" "Your favorite color? Mine is (Fav .color)" What musical genre do you prefer? I like (Fav. genre), I'm particularly a David Bowie fan." The answers to those questions were vanilla, light gray, and jazz. (Y/n) liked to accumulate all the possible details about Kurapika. More than once he was surprised that the (hair/colored) remembered, like what candy he preferred from the local store, that he liked his water slightly cooler than room-temperature or they reminded him to take a break from using his contact lenses. (Y/n) was also very vocal, consciously or not, with what they liked about Kurapika. They made him blush more than once with "you look pretty today", "you are kind, thank you" or "I love your eyes, they are blue dog's eyes". He had no clue what the latter meant or where were their origins, but (Y/n) said it so lovingly that he couldn't help feeling like it was the greatest of compliments.

Kurapika relied most on studying (Y/n) body language to approach them. He soon realized that while their face was not very expressive, the rest of their body tended to be. When they were waiting for something that excited them, they tapped the table with their long nails. They used to hold the door for the person behind them and him. And the two things that Kurapika found the most adorable of all, they tilted their head when they thought of something and flapped their hands when they were excited-even if they tried to suppress it on occasions. Something that Kurapika was not anticipating at all, particularly considering its dexterity and exactness from the time they fought, was (Y/n) clumsiness. They took bad or silly postures and never tied their shoes- Kurapika suspected them to not know how-.

He loved to tease (Y/n) with it. Expressly when they caught a light pole in the road, for not paying attention while they talked.

(Y/n) reminded him so much of Pairo, shy, a tad playful, and caring.

Pairo...

He would have liked to meet Yorknew. Observe everything Kurapika had seen. He sure would have liked the cinnamon rolls and the city lights. It was cruel and wicked. 

"Kurapika"- a quiet voice took him away from his thoughts. His head stung.

"Here's your tea, sunshine"-(Y/n) placed a cup full of steaming cinnamon tea in front of him, and proceeded to sit down.-"Are you fine?"

"Yes, I was just... just thinking."- Kurapika mumbled and looked at his cup.

 "I see. It is not wrong to miss someone. It simply signifies you love them, and they're important to you."-They mumbled, also looking down at the tea, as if they were capable of reading his mind. They certainly didn't read minds. Just missed someone too.-"If we don't remember them no one else will."- (Y/n) muttered as if the statement was also for them. They wanted nothing more than to comfort him. In one effort they dubiously lifted their hand and started to gently rub his back.

Kurapika turned to see them.-"You call me sunshine now?" He wanted to tease them. It didn't work.

(Y/n) nooned with pride.-"Because of your hair, the color evokes a ray of sunshine. Without sunlight, the flowers do not grow, therefore it is important. You are valuable to me."-Completely overlooking the other man's intentions. Kurapika covered his face with his hands and started laughing. He felt better.

"You are sickly sweet!"- he exclaimed, shaking his head. 

"I am. And you're sneakier than you seem." (Y/n) similarly joked. They rested their heads on the hand, drinking tea. They maybe were sappy, but in the end, Kurapika loved it. He had someone to comfort him and with whom he could play. How he had missed this!

"Your piano is nearly the only furniture you have in your living room, and I haven't seen you play it yet."-continued taking a sip of his tea. He didn't know if (Y/n) played the piano, but they certainly prepared good tea.

"I am not very skilled. I am incapable of composing anything, and I haven't played for a long time. I was taught how to play some melodies, and that's what I play."

"May I see?"-Kurapika requested, for (Y/n) to approach the grand piano. They opened the tone's cover and he started to play. Sol-Fa Re Si-Fa Re Si ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f81rM4BKODw ). It sounded like a child's song, sweet and simple.

"My grandad was better. Verily, the instruments make me nostalgic, I have them essentially for that." They babbled once finished.

"You're not awful either." The blonde assured-"Did he teach you?" 

(Y/n) agreed with a smile. "We fancied dancing and singing. My people liked artistic activities, we were somewhat hippies." they joked with a melancholic undertone.

"And the Kurta?"-their interests were genuine

Kurapika was surprised, it was the first time anyone had asked him. He couldn't help but respond excitedly.- "Well, I traveled with a friend, his name was Pairo. We transported ourselves on the backs of huge birds called Pikos! It was really fun... did you had something similar to travel?"

(Y/n) stared at him for a moment, tilting their head "We were the animals...", to them, the answer was a bit obvious. Why would they mount animals for transportation if they could transform themselves into animals?

"That seems lawful... I quite omitted that detail." Kurapika notified. I forgot that people like (Y/n) were part beast. They hardly ever mentioned him and he hadn't seen them in their other form either.

(Y/n) Laughed-"And we used normal cars. Uniliums didn't live very detached from humans. Our community was like 40 away from the city and most adults worked in it. We just maintained our animal figure in private. Most humans didn't have a clue they were fraternizing with us." They were delighted to talk about their peers. Like when you talk about a family member you haven't seen in a long time.

"What kind of animals were they?"-.Kurapika's curiosity about the group only increased. Besides if he knew more about them he would also know more about his (Y/n).

They hummed, -"Well... we were all mammals. Most were preys, for each predator, there was an average of 13 preys. Of 126 members, we were 10. There were mice, rabbits, deers. But no one was sure how to determine which animal would be an offspring."- They cheerfully explained, general information. But nothing about themselves. 

Kurapika would have to question directly.-"And you?"

"I am the cat. But I was raised by wolves, like Romulus and Remus. Who knows? I might establish my own empire!"-(Y/n) played.

It was the first time they mentioned it. But now that he reflected, (Y/n) resembled a cat. They had particularly long fangs and claws.

"I didn't know your parents were wolves!" Kurapika felt he was finally learning a little more about his lover's past. But the reaction received was not the one he expected. An ordinary person, he included, would be glad to remember his parents.

(Y/n) quitted smiling and leaned their head into their folded arms. The atmosphere in the room had changed.-"They are average humans. As we mix with humans, it was not uncommon for some to marry them. My grandfather's mother and my grandfather, who were Uniliums, married humans. My mother was human and married another human."- they mumbled. Kurapika felt that the topic was not very pleasant for them, and considered it appropriate to stop that conversation.

"I comprehend..."-and changed the topic-"Kurtas were further separated. It was difficult to get outward of our village. This to guard us. Controlling the scarlet eyes and our emotions was not easy. Many panicked when they saw them."

(Y/n) seemed to quickly forget the preceding topic and willingly listened to their beloved again.-"I understand that. Some humans were also afraid of us, they believed we were demons or beasts. The funny thing is that the deluded wouldn't recognize us."-they mocked-"Sentiments could also influence our appearance. But our parents taught us to be cautious since cubs." 

(Y/n) had seen Kurapika with his scarlet eyes, but he hadn't seen them in their beast form. The most he had seen was that night when they saw him straight in the eye, and their pupils were contracted, like a cat's, and the (e/c) had almost fully spread.

"You have never revealed your cat form to me. I bet you're adorable!"- He expressed in an attempt to satiate his curiosity. 

They sure weren't anticipating that request, following a moment of hesitation, they lilted "I presume I get accustomed to wearing this shape."

Kurapika wanted (Y/n) to have confidence in him. He understood the concern in showing foreigners such aspects. After all, they had both been marginalized and punished for their looks.-"It's not going to be unpleasant to me. I like cats." he offered them a sweet smile. 

At the moment he blinked and reopened his eyes, (Y/n) had a pair of fuzzy (color) cat ears, the right one with a tiny darker spot on the tip, a fluffy tail, and their hair was slightingly fuzzed up. Maybe the most remarkable thing was their feet, long and standing on the tip.

 Their eyes changed again, and their hands were slightly larger with wider claws; to ultimately have the appearance of a cat-humanoid. They didn't look so different and they were still (Y/n). 

Kurapika didn't see anything devilish about the person in front of him. Rather, he saw an exotic beauty, like fantastic creatures from magical books. He felt lucky to be able to witness something of that bearing and have that experience. What was so special to him was that this being was his partner.

"You certainly are a kitten. That's something you can do in that form?"-Kurapika interrogated.

(Y/n) took a minute to consider, head tilted as usual- the only difference is that their ears moved delicately-. They raised their open hands, showing some very pink set to digital pads, advanced towards him wagging his tail, and cupping his face with a cute smile.

"Your hands are very soft, darling."-Kurapika giggled at the silly idea. (Y/n)'s grin grew wider, closed its eyes, and in complete pride said "I have paws, honey!" That was true. Not many could say they had paws. Especially a so soft and warm pair. (Y/n) appeared happy and relieved, as if they had been discharged from a weight or they were finally doing something they had repressed.

"And you also have marshmallow cheeks. Can you do something particular under that form?"-As Kurapika enjoyed the softness of the caring touch, his question was not precisely answered.

(Y/n) separated their paws from his face, and showed its claws. "I have retractile claws, like, well, a cat. Under this form my strength and speed increase. My bite force equals that of a Jaguar. Ultimately I'm capable of using a more potent nen's technique since my aura flow grows. Although, you know I'm a pacifist. I tend to be softer..."

"You look like a big plush doll. Yet, this appearance may be tricky. You absolutely are a cat."- Kurapika could recognize why (Y/n)'s clan was killed to extermination. Many collectors would be filled with sick and devious pride to have such a creature. He was happy that at least (Y/n) survived. For the first time, he was happy that he too survived.

[happymetalgirl]

October 2020

Six Feet Under - Nightmares of the Decomposed

I wrote a full-length review of this disaster of an album earlier in the month, and yeah, wow. Between the phoned-in performances from the instrumentalists who have proven themselves far above this joke of a band and the half-assed production this would have been a pretty crappy album even without Chris Barnes’ milk-aged vocals. But he’s here, and he’s managed to actually get worse too, gasping his way through the whole album and littering it with these ludicrous “high” squeals that would make Smeagol sound like a more competent death metal vocalist. It’s the worst thing I’ve heard all year, and what’s worse, I don’t think Six Feet Under is stopping.

1/10

With that out of the way, let’s cleanse the pallet right away with some really good shit.

Greg Puciato - Child Soldier: Creator of God

Ever reliable in his artistically integrity, explosive former Dillinger Escape Plan frontman, Greg Puciato, has been pretty sonically and artistically adventurous since the honorable dissolution of the iconic mathcore outfit, his most notable music project being the ethereal, synth-heavy The Black Queen. This year, however, Puciato has gone fully solo for a full-length project, and something told me to get ready for a wild ride, and boy was I right on that hunch. Borne out of an exponentiated process of songwriting that produced songs Puciato deemed unfitting for any of his current projects, what was planned as a small release to ship these songs out of the writing room eventually spiraled into a full-blown debut solo album clocking in at over an hour. A lot of solo projects play like clearly indulgent amateur hour sessions from an artist whose ego has been boosted pretty well from significant success from their main project, leading them to overconfidently try their hand at music they have no business trying it at. And it’s often approached under the understanding that it is a victory lap, more or less, and a satisfaction of creative impulses for the sake of it. Sometimes the resultant material is clearly inspired and showcases a side of an artist that certainly deserves some spotlight. Other times it feels like being trapped in an awkward situation with an acquaintance where they just show you all their newest pedals and production software and you’re just stuck there watching them fiddle around while you nod along and offer the occasional “wow, that’s pretty crazy” every now and then while they don’t pick up on the obvious cues that you are just waiting for them to finish playing with their toys. While Puciato was open about this album being borne from the very creatively borderless mindset that so often damns solo projects, Child Soldier: Creator of God is an actual realization of the type of grand, genre-spanning album that so many solo artists envision themselves making and set out to create, and it’s hardly a whimsical, amateurish crack at the styles within either. Puciato’s foray into sludge metal, industrial rock, harsh noise, darkwave, synthwave, and shoegaze, (1) makes for a hell of a dynamic and exciting track list, and (2) shows a much deeper than average respect for and relationship with the styles being played here. This isn’t some frontman thinking his charisma can carry him through a whole rap solo album; this is a well-rounded artist (also a hell of a frontman, no denying that) giving the most comprehensive look yet into his creative mind. The album leaps around in patches of different styles, strung together mostly by ambient connective tissue of various types, all with a great attention to detail paid to both texture and progression. We get early patches of smooth ambiance, but also aggressive industrial and sludge metal, eventually moving to more soothing and meditative synthy stuff around the middle, finishing with some serene, Have a Nice Life-esque shoegaze. But really there’s no way to sum up this album stylistically without breaking down every single song on here, and that would just ruin the fun and the experience. You really just have to experience it for yourself.

9/10

DevilDriver - Dealing with Demons I

Embarking on a conceptual double-album, Dez Fafara and DevilDriver’s first installment in the pair is a scoop of the, indeed, slightly above average, but unfortunately still plain and predictable modern groove metal they always offer up. I’ll give the band credit for keeping the pace up and clearly putting substantial energy into the performances on this album, while also trying to squeeze in a few shake-ups to their sound, like the clear Gojira-inspired riffage on the opening track. The album loses steam, unfortunately, as its punches lose their impact as it goes on.

6/10

Anaal Nathrakh - Endarkenment

While certainly cultivating a unique sound, Anaal Nathrakh’s unholy fusion of nasty modern blackened grindcore with sweeter metalcore and melodic death metal elements has its mixed results. And while that might at first sound like a relatively critical assessment of the Brits’ eleventh album, I’d say that there is actually a lot to enjoy and take in for at least the interesting mix of styles, most of which are hits rather than misses as well.

7/10

Enslaved - Utgard

Having been a fan of a good amount of their recent output, especially 2015’s In Times, I came out of Utgard moderately disappointed with how infrequently Enslaved galvanized their potent brand of Viking folky, progressive black metal effectively; the few moments the band do channel their strengths cohesively and purposefully left me wanting more rather than savoring those moments.

6/10

In Cauda Venenum - G.O.H.E.

It’s hard to, and indeed seems kind of in just to, sum up a heaping prog metal serving like G.O.H.E., comprised of two 22-minute halves, in a capsule review, but that is kind of the format my current busy circumstances have forced me into. French outfit In Cauda Venenum made a self-titled debut in similar two-long-track fashion back in 2015, and the band’s gothic and somewhat theatrical brand of atmospheric post-black-metal is continued on their sophomore effort here, drawing the obvious comparisons to Opeth and Katatonia, as well as Der Weg Einer Freiheit, Numenorean, and Sólstafir, and apart from the more frequent sample usage and extra drawn-out songs, there really isn’t that much to differentiate In Cauda Venenum stylistically. The band’s second album, unfortunately, resembles so many others in the field with big aspirations and the same inadequate means of getting there.

5/10

Apparition - Granular Transformation

A much more bite-sized early two-track offering, Apparition’s debut EP offers a more promising glimpse into a heady, atmospheric, yet still visceral manipulation of modern death metal that I would be curious to hear in a more long-form format. In a genre as extreme as death metal in recent years has been, finding artists effective at working with negative space can be difficult, but the two songs on Granular Transformation showcase a formidable dexterity from Apparition that I think can take them places.

6/10

Molasses - Through the Hollow

While indeed marred by some rough performances on songs with sometimes more desert to cross than water to make it there, there’s an undeniable occult hypnotism about the Dio-era-esque doom metal hollow that Molasses ritualize their way through.

7/10

Death Angel - Under Pressure

While certainly an odd choice on the surface, Death Angel’s acoustic EP and cover of the famous Queen song actually comes out pretty alright. The acoustic version of Act III’s “A Room with a View” comes off with the energy of something like Rush whenever they went acoustic, and the original acoustic cut, “Faded Remains” isn’t too bad either. The acoustic format did not, however, mask the drabness of “Revelation Song” from last year’s overall disappointment, Humanicide.

6/10

Necrophobic - Dawn of the Damned

The Swedes’ melodic brand of blackened death metal is nothing if not thorough on the quintet’s ninth full-length, Dawn of the Damned, covering all the ground that their fans expect their style to cover and doing so with more compositional and performative stamina than their average contemporary. While the band’s broader compositional approach is akin to the beating of a dead horse, I can’t deny it produces some tasty motifs in the process.

7/10

Bloodbather - Silence

After coming onto the blossoming metallic hardcore scene in 2018 with a standard, but potent enough 14-minute EP, Pressure, Bloodbather are back with another 14 minutes of similar, yet less promising material, doing little to set themselves apart from or on the same level of the likes of Jesus Piece, Vein, Knocked Loose, or Harm’s Way.

5/10

Infera Bruo - Rites of the Nameless

The Bostonians’ fourth full-length is, at the very least, a rather well-executed forty minutes of modern black metal a la Craft or Watain, but beneath the seams the band’s progressive tendencies twist what would otherwise be a fresh, but standard, slab of black metal into a more head-turning offering of the usual shrieks and blast beats.

7/10

Touché Amoré - Lament

While somewhat shaky in their compositional exploration in their fifth LP, the firmness of their emotive post-hardcore foundation allows for Touché Amoré to build upwards relatively steadily without losing that raw vulnerability that has made them so captivating to begin with.

7/10

Gargoyl - Gargoyl

This is the self-titled debut from Bostonian four-piece Gargoyl; a novel blend of dirty nineties grunge and gothic prog metal, Gargoyl come through with one of the more impressive genre fusions of the year, meeting the lofty sufficiency for dexterity with excessive vocal harmonies in a manner so uncanny that would make habe to Layne Stayley proud. While there is the expected room for improvement on the compositional end that many debut projects come with, Gargoyl have laid the groundwork for themselves fantastically and started off on a good foot.

7/10

Crippled Black Phoenix - Ellengæst

Through creative gothic flair and full-bodied guest vocal contributions that bolster the somber atmosphere beyond the typical post-metal album, the UK band’s most recent offering of “endtime ballads”, despite its few low points that undo its otherwise immersive atmosphere, serves as one of the more engaging releases under the broader post-metal umbrella of the past year.

7/10

Wayfarer - A Romance with Violence

The Denver-based quartet follow up 2018’s strong emotive case for the potential for evoking cathartic power of the atmospheric black metal which has so saturated the American scene to the point of numbness, their Americana-tinged third LP, World’s Blood, unfortunately, with a fourth LP whose compositional homogeneity and mere few intermittent bursts of enthralling atmospheric instrumentation more represent, rather than advocate the merit of, the saturation of the American atmospheric black metal scene.

6/10

Armored Saint - Punching the Sky

Though I think the structural homogeneity and John Bush’s similarly limited vocal delivery holds it back, with crunchy bangers like “Do Wrong to None” and “My Jurisdiction” alongside more tempered tracks the clearly grunge-influenced “Lone Wolf”, Bush and company provide a relatively stylistically diverse traditional heavy metal album for an age that could use more contemporary representation of classic styles (beyond the entire stoner metal genre LARPing as Black Sabbath too).

7/10

Spirit Adrift - Enlightened in Eternity

But it's not just the old guard representing their era of classic heavy metal robustly; a year and a half after their energetically melodic third album, Divided by Darkness, which took a triumphant melodic approach to classic heavy metal and doom metal similar to that of Khemmis on their excellent third album, Spirit Adrift ease up a bit on the hyper-soulful approach to guitar melody that had led me (and others I'm sure) to draw the comparison to Khemmis, and instead dive deeper into the headspace of the genre's earliest progenitors to achieve that unabashedly glorious rallying cry that is evoked by the very front cover of Enlightened in Eternity. While I am personally pretty partial to the very vulnerable and heartfelt melodic approach that characterized Divided by Darkness, the effectiveness with which Spirit Adrift are able to wield the sometimes Maiden-esque, sometimes Testament-esque sounds of the 80’s on this album is undeniably impressive.

8/10

Fever 333 - Wrong Generation

Providing the correction to this generation’s answer to Rage Against the Machine (after Prophets of Rage’s insufficient attempted revival) Fever 333 follow up last year’s debut of heavy, fired-up and modern take on rapcore with another 14 minutes of righteous anti-racist hardcore anger that’s attuned to the issues to a level that I wish more artists would at least express in their art. While the EP is 18 minutes long, the last two songs, “The Last Time” and “Supremacy”, don’t match the sonic energy of the first six tracks. The somber piano-led snippet-length ballad, “The Last Time”, should have been the conclusion of the album, but the closing track, “Supremacy”, while as conscious as the tracks before it, is basically a late-stage formulaic Linkin Park track that flatters neither of the two bands. Despite botching the landing though, Wrong Generation is a ripping batch of songs that well represent the current unrest and provide a positive hypothetical idea of what it might be like if Rage Against the Machine were in their prime and active today.

7/10

Mörk Gryning - Hinsides Vrede

The Swedes return from their 15-year disillusioned absence from the studio with a concise and clearly renewed enthusiasm for the energetic black metal that they put forth on Hinsides Vrede. Dynamically bolstered by folk-metal compositional tendencies and more than a dash of that famed Gothenburg melodicism (I know they’re from Stockholm and in fact their melodic approach often does heaven to that of their close neighbors from Uppsala, Watain), Mörk Gryning’s seamless return to music finds them jumping into the modern black metal scene’s advanced compositional rubric with relative ease.

7/10

Zeal & Ardor - Wake of a Nation

Having covered their output since their debut and being a big fan of Manuel Gagneux’ project, it pains me to say, especially given the noble pretext and occasional momentary flashes of sobering messaging, that this six-song mini release really doesn’t capture the unique sonic pallet that has made Zeal & Ardor such an interesting act to listen to for the past few years in the most flattering light. The title track is possibly the least of the offenders here, but all the songs here function by taking a little snippet of sound that samples Zeal & Ardor’s broader stylistic range, and drawing it out across these short, but all too minimally composed tracks in such a way that they lose their momentum very quickly. Like I said, I wholeheartedly appreciate, sympathize with, and support what Manuel Gagneux is doing to lend his band’s platform to the addressing of the dire issue of today’s racism through musical means with this project, and when its social motivation is at the forefront, it’s at its most potent, but musically, unfortunately, it’s just desperately underwritten in a way that doesn’t fairly represent how accomplished Zeal & Ardor really are with their sound.

5/10

Sevendust - Blood & Stone

The flashes of crushing grooves reminiscent of their earlier work on Blood & Stone that highlight how well Sevendust can harness nu/alternative metal to execute pummeling attacks with the right crunchy guitar tone, unfortunately, don’t come frequently enough on their twelfth LP to mirage the exhaustion that has come of the band’s writing process after such frequent, unrelenting output and the all too apparent desperate need for a recalibrating, refreshing break, which they certainly deserve for their tenacity.

5/10

Undeath - Lesions of a Different Kind

In one of those cases where the ridiculously gratuitous album cover actually represents the album’s sound quite well, Rochester, New York five-piece, Undeath mince neither words nor sounds on their debut LP in their 100% upfront, no-nonsense, and wonderfully nasty delivery of death metal. Eschewing even the slightest sense of snobbery or pretense for aimless ambition, the band simply compile the genre’s tried and true elements of bellowing growls, filthy riffs, mean-ass down-tuned chugging, and blood-pumping double-bass with blast beats into an addictive slab of raw, uncured death metal that serves as a testament to the merit of not overthinking shit.

8/10

Griffon - Ὸ Θεός Ὸ Βασιλεύς

On their sophomore LP, Parisian quintet Griffon channel the world innovative ethos that has become rather prominent in their scene into a somewhat short, but definitely sweet offering of modestly ambitious black metal that captures much more effectively than most albums of similar style and lesser imagination, the divine grandeur that the genre so often tries and fails to embody.

8/10

Bring Me the Horizon - Post-Human: Survival Horror

After taking the hard left into current pop music trends very transparently on their controversial, which was at least partially intentional on their part, and ultimately really patchy, but not wholly awful, 2019 album, amo, Oli Sykes and co. walk it back substantially for this smaller release here, back to That's the Spirit, even Sempiternal, a prospect that might get a lot of the band's more long-time, metalcore-centric fans excited, but I would suggest those fans temper their expectations of Post-Human: Survival Horror. The band reunite with the anthemic metalcore/deathcore that put them on the map for a good chunk of this album, and the intro track, "Dear Diary,", might even give some false hope of the prodigal sons returning home. But songs like the cookie-cutter single, "Teardrops", provide strong evidence that, while the band have re-embraced their old aesthetic, they have not kicked the pop vocal or compositional habits. And the project really does run out of energy in its final third because of this compositional homogeneity. I do want to highlight the song, "Kingslayer", which features a very in-form Babymetal (I loved their album last year), because their fun, not-so-serious approach to the crossing of J-pop and metal music in their feature on this track among the other songs around it provides a contrast to the more formulaic, disinterested radio pop swagger that Bring Me the Horizon have been trying to jam into their sound that could perhaps inform Bring Me the Horizon's artistic approach to integrating pop music if they really are so hellbent on doing so. Ultimately though, as much as they want to move into newer territory, this trajectory-revising release shows just how much more solid Bring Me the Horizon are in their metalcore territory than they were on amo. It had its predictable hiccups, but this thing wasn't too bad.

7/10

Pallbearer - Forgotten Days

With the slow, sludgy, down-tuned riffing of the menacing opening title track and the similar chug of “Vengeance & Ruination” being the sole exceptions, the remainder of Pallbearer’s fouth full-length largely sees them operating in the same niche they have in their three previous albums. And while this could invoke accusations of playing it safe, the brimming heartfelt sorrow and resistance to succumbing to despair across Forgotten Days is enough to wave that away, as Pallbearer showcase just how emotive doom metal can be.

8/10

Bleeding Out - Lifelong Death Fantasy

The very new act and fresh Profound Lore signing, Bleeding Out, certainly display more dynamic capability than your average local grindcore scene’s biggest names here on their 18-minute debut for the label, but as of now it is still just a glimpse of potential for more effective future implementation. It’s a good start, though, and I’ll be looking forward to a more long-form project from these guys.

6/10

Evildead - United States of Anarchy

Every year we get the resurrection of some long-inactive old-school band who seem to have found that missing spark at last; we’ve seen the return of smaller bands to the studio like Angel Witch or Sorcerer and long-awaited revivals of iconic acts like Possessed. This year, Los Angeles’ Evildead has seen fit to make their commentary on the massive ongoing sociopolitical upheaval. Despite my love for the 80’s thrash scene they were born out of, the combination of the utterly lame band name, logo, and covers for either their ‘89 or ‘91 albums never really made me want to check them out, but seeing the horridly cheesy and incoherent cover of United States of Anarchy (I mean how much more on-the-nose can you get), my morbid curiosity got the best of me. Maybe I’d be wrong to have judged them by their cover, plenty of my favorite 80’s albums have particularly goofy cover art. So what do we get from Evildead in 2020 with this fucking album? Well, it’s not as poorly performed as the past few Anvil albums I’ve had to review have been, but Jesus the lyricism is similarly cheesy 5th-grade-level stuff and smacks of silly political incoherence that essentially boils down to “enlightened centrism” with mix of that good ol’ Illuminati-conspiracy-theory belief that no political thrash album is apparently complete without. I mean there’s just basic acknowledgment of the prominent problems of the day and the fact that both major political parties are bad and that corruption is rampant all throughout DC, but Evildead not only barely scratch the surface, they apply the same level cynicism to the “both sides” they criticize with no substantiation to their criticism despite that mindset being a big reason for our being where we are right now, mixed in with the occasional conspiracy-paranoia about the shadowy underworld running everything, so no real solutions or even proper addressing of these problems. Like, the same level of criticism is levied at right-wingers and communists, like communists are at all why this country has gone to shit. And the generic Anthrax/Megadeth type of thrash instrumentation, while rumbly and mixed well to highlight its bass heaviness, doesn’t exactly make it easy to get past the commentary deficiencies on here.

4/10

Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou - May Our Chambers Be Full

Rounding off their year (at least I think), with a long-teased collaboration with Emma Ruth Rundle, Thou finally present their massive sludge-doom sound in a much more flattering light than the previous cover albums this year did. Thou's original material continues to highlight just why their relatively stiff sound is much more cut out for that, original material, than for trying to bend beyond its flexibility to tribute grunge songs. And while Thou being back in their more effective department, Emma Ruth Rundle's contributions, beyond just her gorgeous and ethereally haunting vocals, to the album's atmosphere, dynamic, and structuring really take the collaboration to the next level. Not to say that Thou are completely overshadowed and relegated to the background on this record or that they don't contribute to a fair share of the legwork here; the workload is shared pretty equally, and both collaborators have their moments of prominence, but Emma Ruth Rundle's ever-present gothic/folky influence really directs the music in a way that plays to Thou's strengths in a way I'm not sure they would have been able to on their own. It's great work from both of them, and I'd be eager to hear Thou find more collaborations like this in the future that push them into doing more interesting things with their crushing doom sound, as opposed to the rather tepid collaborations with The Body.

8/10

Auðn - Vökudraumsins Fangi

Sadly, three albums in, Auðn have only barely exceeded the bare minimum for naturalistic atmospheric black metal, with no signs of significant improvement to be found. The Icelandic band earn points for their earnest delivery, but they never seem to fully make it out of the rut that the genre’s many contemporary acts have dug.

5/10

Botanist - Photosynthesis

The black metal traditionalists might have had to accept that the floodgates to bright ambience and serene shoegaze in the genre have been opened and that there's no going back now, but even as an avid Deafheaven fan, I'm sometimes momentarily surprised at just how heavenly some black metal has gotten lately, and this new album from Botanist is one of those albums. And while it sometimes slips into some of the current wave's typical ruts, the sheer blindingly illuminating aura of this album when it reaches those high points (and it does so frequently) is enough to pull it out from those gutters and high into the cosmos. Yeah, another splendid offering of nature worship from Botanist.

8/10

Mr. Bungle - The Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny Demo

Making their return after over a decade, Mike Patton recruits both Dave Lombardo and Scott Ian for the long-awaited fourth Mr. Bungle album, which is titled in homage to the first Mr. Bungle demo which it is comprised largely of much clearer re-recordings of. Ever impressive, Mike Patton balances aggression and eccentricity like a tightrope walker on this project too, while his bandmates do the same with thrash metal’s natural adrenaline rush while pushing the genre into new compositional and stylistic territory without sacrificing that crucial whiplash. It’s a great time, and definitely one of the year’s best thrash albums.

8/10

Carcass - Despicable

While they've been much less prolific since their reboot than they were prior, Liverpool's melodic death metal pioneers simply continue to demonstrate their excellence in this seemingly effortless four-track appetizer to next year's Torn Arteries. Anyone familiar with the band's brutal form of melodic death metal will certainly be pleased with the four quite sufficiently pulverizing cuts here; those who may only be familiar with some of the band's many less muscular imitators might be surprised, and pleasantly so, with the Englanders' ability to lay on the infectious guitar melody without sacrificing an ounce of force.

8/10

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Azula Week 2020: Day 6 - A Measure Of Strength

Prompt: Training Pair: Azutara Song: Disturbed - The Light

Summary: Azula loses an arm and Katara helps her through the recovery process.

It happens in a flash of red. At first she isn’t sure of what has just happened, it doesn’t quite register and when it does, it almost as feels as though it hasn’t happened to her, but to someone else entirely. But then the pain settles in. It radiates from her where her left arm should be and spreads out to encompass her entire being. “Zuzu?” She utters softly.

His face is twisted in shock and horror and perhaps rage.

“You missed her, dumbass!” Declares a voice from a distance.

Neither she nor Zuko react. She is in capable, already feeling plenty dizzy and weak. And he, taken too aback to manage.

“Nah, ya ass, I go’d her.”

“Not in the right spot.” Declares the first voice. She hears the snap of a bow string and the whistle as something just misses Zuko’s ear and another spot of agony blossoms in her middle. Tears slip down her cheeks as she stares at her brother. Her remaining hand more or less absently goes to cover the spot that the arrow juts through. She feels blood gush between her fingers. Her hand is slick with it. “Zuzu, I…” She falters. Her mind is going. There is so much blood, it is emptying from her body faster than she can comprehend.

“You ain’t get ‘er neither.” Remarks the second assassin. She thinks that the only thing worse than a hate driven aggressor is a hate driven aggressor who lacks a brain.

He finally acts, in one sweep he catches her weak body and shoots a good burst of fire. She wishes that he would have paid more attention to her when she’d tried to teach him to bend lightning. He takes the first man, the smarter of the two, down regardless. At least he has paid attention to her lesson to take the hardest opponent down first.

She isn’t sure how the rest of the battle goes because her head gives one final dizzying tilt and her body goes limp.

.oOo.

She is numb when she wakes, her senses dulled and mercifully muted. Briefly she thinks that she shouldn’t be alive. She feels along her belly until her fingers find the bandages. The spot radiates a sort of warmth can only a terrible wound can. But that burning sensation is much worse at her shoulder. She knows what she isn’t going to find when she brings her hand to it. Her lower lip trembles.

“You’re finally awake!” Zuko exclaims, eyes wide with relief. “The doctors were telling me that they weren’t sure if you would. But you’re awake. I told them that you would be, you always were lucky.”

Azula swallows, “lucky!?” She snaps, the shrill, franticness in her tone saves her from sounding argumentative. She just sounds...scared? Terrified. The hand she holds to the remaining stump of her arm shakes.

Zuko gently pulls her hand back. “You shouldn’t touch it, it’s still fresh.”

Fresh enough for it to hurt like hell, but not enough for the bandages to be bloodied.

“I…” She sputters, “how am I supposed to bend like this?”

“You’re not!” He says too quickly. “You’re supposed to rest now and when you’re healed you can figure out how to work around this. You always do…”

“I need two arms to bend lightning…” she says softly.

“You need to lay back down and rest.” Zuko replies. “Katara is going to be here to heal you…”

She approaches as he mentions her. “She’s awake?”

“Just woke up.” Zuko answers. And then to Azula he says, “I’m going to bring you something to eat.” Azula isn’t hungry but she lets him leave.

“Hold still, okay.” Katara instructs.

Azula doesn’t plan on going anywhere. Katara lifts Azula’s shirt and tenderly peels the bandages away. The water is cool against Azula’s tummy as it alleviates some of the pain. The waterbender holds her hand there for a few moments more before pulling the water away and replacing the bandages. Azula tugs her own shirt down.

“It’ll be easier if you take it off. Don’t worry, they gave you a sleeveless undershirt.”

Azula sits up and lifts the shirt over her head, but it catches, awkwardly tangling her within her own clothing. Katara pulls it the rest of the way over her head. The princess’ stomach and mood plummet. She can’t even take her own shirt off without help. And suddenly she begins to hate herself. What good is she if she is going to need help to do the most basic things? She balls her fists into the blankets.

Katara creates a sleeve of water on her shoulder, as far as she can tell anyhow. She averts her eyes, not yet willing to see the damage yet. She gnaws on her own cheek, she knows that she shouldn’t wait. It’ll be better to get it over with so that she can get used to it sooner. Azula takes a deep breath and shifts her gaze to her missing arm. Her lip quivers again and tears burn in her eyes. She should have waited for the waterbender to leave.

Said waterbender puts the water away. She seems to hesitate before wiping the tears from Azula’s eyes. But it is a pointless effort as more come to take their place. More and  more until her whole body is wracked with sobs.

Katara takes her in her arms and rubs soothing circles over her back. “Careful, you’re going to hurt…”

Azula is well aware, her stomach is already aching again. She lets Katara  lay her back and bring the water to her belly again, driving away the dull pain that she’d coaxed back.

“It’s going to be fine, Azula. You’re going to be fine.”

It must be in  the waterbender’s nature to be a nurturer because they certainly weren’t on particularly good terms before the assassination attempt. No one was on good terms with her. No one but Zuko, and their relationship had still been so delicate.

“I don’t feel fine.” She mutters. She is very certain that she won’t be. She knows for certain that things will never be the same and that her new normal is going to be much worse than what she’d had before.

“Maybe you don’t right now, but you will.” She presses. “Zuko tells me that things usually work out for you.”

This only dims her mood further. “They don’t. They haven’t, not since the Agni Kai.” She thinks that she had lost her luck alongside her mind, dignity, and aspirations that day.

“Well then you’re due for some good luck soon.” Katara tries.

The waterbender visits again the next day and the day after that. It is now part of her routine, sometimes Zuko or Sokka come with her, most of the time she is alone. Azula yearns to leave her bedrest, but both the doctors and Katara advise against it.

Katara is caring with her, more than anyone has ever been and it makes Azula feel embarrassingly weepy and emotional all over again. She thinks that this might be the first time anyone has invested so much time into her well being. Maybe that is why it was so easy for Azula to grow attached.

.oOo.

She is allowed to leave the hospital bed a few days later, but activity is restricted. Azula itches to get back to training, itching to find a work around to her handicap. Though each of her choice training rooms are guarded; she can throw around all of the titles she wants, they override her for her own wellbeing.

Each rejection has her increasingly more frustrated. Her frustration carries her onto the bench in the palace garden. She sits, uncharacteristically hunched, her arm hanging limp in front of her, lips pursed in a full pout.

“I take it, they wouldn’t let you into your training room again?” Katara finds a seat next to her. Azula crosses her remaining arm over her chest, her frown deepens. “I can’t even convey the extent of my dissatisfaction correctly.”

Katara laughs, “trust me, you’re conveying it just fine.”

Azula almost cracks a smile, but her mood is too dim.

“Here…” Katara mutters. She pushes Azula’s sleeve up and the princess feels a familiar controlled current. Her wound is rather decently healed, but it still feels kind of have the soothing of a good healing session. She feels some of the tension leave her. “Feel better?”

“Somewhat.” Azula replies. “I’d feel better knowing that I’m not useless…”

“Then you can start feeling better now.” Katara assures. She gives Azula’s hand a small squeeze.

“I mean that I’d feel better knowing that I can still bend like I used to.” Her stomach sinks further, she knows that she won’t be able to, not exactly.

Katara cautiously takes the firebender into  a hug and pats her back.

“You don’t have to treat me like I’m fragile.” Azula mutters. She is dreadfully tired of people treating her as though she will break at the slightest touch.

“We just don’t want to hurt you.”

She doesn’t know how to tell her that it hurts infinitely worse to feel so vulnerable. To be treated like she is weaker. “You won’t.” She states simply.

.oOo.

Azula is starting to grow accustomed to being short an arm. Reflexes to use the arm she no longer has are becoming frequent; she forgets that she has lost it less. Climbing is no easy feat, and it won’t be until she strengthens her core and her right arm enough to compensate.

With a tired huff, she lets go of the rungs of the ladder and pushes herself up with her feet, gripping the next rung up before she can drop to the floor. Weeks back, Zuko had the ladder made specifically to cater to her training needs. Its entire purpose is to train her to scale buildings and cliffsides again.

If nothing else, she has a rather impressive grip. She reaches the top of the ladder and lets herself drop.

“You finally made it to the top.” Katara notes with a smile.

“It took much longer than it should have.” Azula scowls.

Katara rolls her eyes and ruffles the firebender’s hair. “You’re always so grumpy. I got something for you.” She fishes around in her bag and pulls out a sleeveless shirt.

“You know that I don’t wear sleeveless in public anymore…”

“I know that you’ve never let insecurities stop you from doing anything before.” Katara shoves the shirt into her arm. “Why shouldn’t you wear a sleeveless shirt?”

“Because nobody wants to see this.” Azula motions to the stump.

“I don’t mind seeing it.” Katara shrugs. “Toph likes it too.”

“Because she is spared the grotesque details.”

“Because she finally has someone else sort of like her. Someone who is still...badass despite a handicap.”

“If I wear the sleeveless shirt tonight, will you promise to never timidly say ‘badass’ again?”

“I guess, that that’s a fair deal.” Katara agrees, though Azula thinks that she has offered herself the short end of the deal. “Have you started working with lightning again?”

Azula swallows and nods, this time she is the meek one. “I need two arms.”

Katara frowns and purses her lips. “Or… you need to redirect the flow. Redirecting lightning borrows waterbending techniques....”

“That also require two arms…”

“That’s the thing about water, when it’s path is blocked it usually just changes it’s flow.”

“Or it gets blocked and has nowhere to go.”

“And then it bursts through with more power than before.” She points out. “Even if it takes a while.” She pauses. “Have you tried bending lightning using a waterbending technique?”

Azula nods, “believe it or not, I’ve tried earth too.”

“I’ve heard of benders who could bend with their minds. If anyone could learn to do that, it’s you. You’ve already trained your mind so well in other areas.” Katara holds her hand at Azula’s temple. “Why not try to direct your flow of lightning using your mind?”

“I suppose that I can give it a try.”

Azula stands up, for now she will focus on her firebending. At least that is going decently enough.

“You’re going to look beautiful tonight.” She pecks Azula on the cheek. A cheek that is now faintly pink. She still has to get used to receiving so much affection. Somehow she thinks that that will be harder than getting used to having one arm.

“You are distracting me from my training.”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Your training is distracting you from me.” She flashes a mischievous smile. “Come on, let me train with you, don’t you think it’d be useful to have some combat training.”

Azula considers, “yes, quite.”  Though there is a part of her that hesitates. The last thing that her ego needs is for her to get her ass completely kicked.

“Remember when we were in the caverns of Lake Laogai and I had you trapped in those water tentacles?”

Azula’s face colors again.

“Maybe you can make a fire version of that and use that as an arm in battle.” She suggests, “I can show you how to do it.”

“You wrap the water around your arm.” Azula reminds flatly. “Right…” Katara trails off. “Well why don’t we just have a little dual like I first suggested?”

“Sure, just don’t completely destroy me.” Azula mutters.

Katara wraps her arms around the princess. “We’re not trying to see who the better bender is, we’re just trying to get you used to fighting again.” She reminds. “I think it’ll be much easier for you to figure out how to approach attacks if you experience them.” She pauses. “Actually, the whole point of this will be to try new methods. Only one of us is going to attack, the other sticks to defense. And then tomorrow, we’ll switch.”

“Right, yes.” Azula agrees. “I suppose that does make much more sense than starting with a dual.” She silently adds that it makes more sense to begin with defense as well. “And when you aren’t around I can work on trying to bend with my mind.”

“I was actually planning on sticking around for that. Combustion Man made all kinds of great faces while doing it.” Katara laughs. “Sort of like the one you’re making now.”

Azula, with nothing else to chuck save for fire, tosses the shirt at Katara who quickly sets it aside. “Alright, so I’ll come at you with a water whip.”

“With two.” Azula insists. “I can easily block one.”

Katara lets the water slide down her arms. “Two it is. Ready?”

“Don’t baby me either.” Azula requests. “If I get hit, I get hit. I should have blocked it.”

Katara’s expression softened. “I’m not going to hurt you on purpose. I know that you guys can be brutal here, but you don’t have to be. I won’t go easy on you, but I’m not going to throw you around either.”

“Just throw some water at me already.” Azula grumbles.

Without warning, Katara obeys. Azula is pleased that her reflexes remain, she ducks down and evaporates the stream with a steady flow of fire. Katara comes at her with the second water arm. Other reflexes are still intact, she goes to throw up her left arm to defend. In battle she would have taken a good slash to the face. She grits her teeth and fights to keep tears of frustration at bay. “Go again.” She requests through gritted teeth.

Katara looks on in concern, but ultimately decides that, for the sake of the princess’ ego, to oblige. She comes just as quickly, but Azula knows what is coming this time. For it, fending the faux attack off has no satisfaction. Not until she notices the third and fourth water arms. This time Azula springs up and cuts through the twin streams with a kick of fire. She has only enough time to land before the water begins to rise again.

She sends a good portion of her chi to the soles of her feet and heats the water beneath them until it turns into nothing but mist.  Mist that rises rather thickly. She realizes that she no has the element of surprise on her side. Briefly she thinks of taking the offensive role, but a sense of honor takes precedence. “I’d be able to attack you very easily right now.” She lets Katara know.

“She, we’ve only just begun and you’ve already found a new approach to combat.” She can hear the bragging, ‘I told you so’, but the excitement in her voice takes the edge off of it. “I figured that you would.”

Azula drops into a roll as Katara sends the next water tentacle in her direction. From the floor, she gives it another fiery kick. She thinks that the move is more reminiscent of Zuko’s bending style than her own. She blasts herself up right with her arm and propels herself forward and under the next water arm, with the agility that is all her own. The water arms pursue her until she reaches the west wall. She runs up it and somersaults over the streams, raining fire over them. They evaporate in another cloud of mist.   She lands next to Katara.

“I don’t think that I have to go easy on you.” The waterbender remarks. “It seems to me, like you’re just as good at this as before.”

“I still can’t…”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Lightningbend? You’re really fixated on that, aren’t you?”

“It’s what sets me apart, everyone can firebend, it takes true mastery to lightningbend.”

Katara quirks a brow. “Really, you think that it’s your lightning that sets you apart? Zuko is learning to lightningbend. If anything it’s--I don’t know--your blue fire that sets you apart.”

Azula holds a small flame in her palm and watches it flick and dance. Katara cups her hand under Azula’s. “You’re the only one who can do that.”

“I suppose.”

“But do you know what really made you such a strong combatant?”

“What?”

Katara taps the side of her head. “Your mind, Azula.” She pauses. “You’re really clever and you think fast. That’s what always made you so effective. You didn’t lose that Agni Kai because you were less powerful, you lost it because you weren’t all there.”

Azula lets the fire die down.

“You didn’t need your bending during the eclipse.” Katara continues. “Because you had a plan and you’re good at improvising when you don’t.” She squeezes Azula’s hand. “Maybe you’re right, maybe you won’t be able to bend like you used to for a while. But you don’t need to because you can think like you used to.”

Azula swallows, this time her eyes well with a different sort of emotion. She isn’t quite sure what it is, but it is moving enough for her to have to wipe her eye with the back of her hand. “I guess that I hadn’t considered…” She trails off.

“Well, now you know.” Katara sits herself down in Azula’s lap and Azula wraps her arm around the waterbender’s torso. “So you can give yourself a break.”

Azula stares at her palm as Katara nuzzles her head in the crook of her neck. “I’d still like to bend lightning again, though.”

“You will.” Katara assures. “Until then, you’ll just have to get creative when kicking ass.”

“We had a deal.” Azula nudges her lightly in the ribs.

“Put your new shirt on.” She pecks Azula’s nose. “And let's get ready for our dinner party.”

[chocolate-parfait]

Their relationships pt. 2 (Modern!AU) - ikemen sengoku (Uesugi-Takeda forces +Kennyo)

KENNYO SWEETIE IM SO SORRY I HAD TO GIVE YOU SUCH AN ANGSTY LIFE SKIFJDJSJ😭😭😭

Shingen is one of Kenshin's most frequent clients. The pianist needs to maintain his looks in order to impress his female audience! Another reason why he loves going to the hairstylist's boutique is because it's always swarming with beautiful ladies that swoon at the sight of two stunningly handsome men like Kenshin and Shingen. Needless to say, the latter never was one to wast an opportunity to flirt, and happily bestowes his attentions upon the women in the shop, causing the God of hairstyles to scoff at his annoying client. "Stop flirting with my clients, you horny boar." Though he may act like this, the two of them also have a relationship based on reciprocal respect and understanding, born from the countless drinks they shared over many years that eventually brought them closer

Shingen's old neighbor moved out, and in his stead came a young married couple with their little son, Yukimura. The boy's parents were enthusiastic to discover their favorite pianist lived in the apartment next door. Shingen, seeing how tight their schedule was compared to his much loose one, offered to babysit the little boy from time to time, earning the spouses' endless thanks. And so, Yukimura grew up spending more time with his neighbor (and his occasional female guests) than his parents, developing a deep sense of admiration and gratefulness for him, though hiding everything under his typical tsundere facade. "Yuki~ whenever you have a problem with a woman, don't hesitate to call me!" "Oh, shut up you old flirt!!". He believed that contrary to his frivolous appearance and behavior, the man also had a profound and respectable side to him, whereas the eternal bachelor who never seemed to set his eyes on one woman at a time, became unexpectedly attached to the boy, raising him up and treating him as if he were his own son

(Bonus: Shingen going to Yukimura's school plays in his parents' stead since they couldn't come because of work, and ending up chatting up the boy's teachers)

Yukimura and Sasuke were high school buddies! Despite having to move from one school to the other because of his parents' jobs, our astronaut has found in Yuki a real friend, making sure to keep in touch with him and hang out with one another even after his departure. When they were still classmates, PE was one of their favorite subjects; always on the same team together, their perfect dynamics and coordination made them an invincible duo with great physical skills, too. After his bestie moved to another town Yukimura was a little heartbroken, but he has never admitted such a thing even as an adult who can freely the other whenever he wants. Sasuke on the other hand, felt pretty guilty about the whole situation, but it certainly didn't kill his willingness to be with his first friend ever, and even when he goes to space for long periods of time, he always makes sure to facetime with him and narrate his space adventures

(I have 0 idea what kennyo's childhood was like, this is completely made up!) Kennyo grew up in a big but tranquil family, and has been friends with Shingen ever since the two were children. As they went to school together, Kennyo assisted to the birth of the other's incorrigible flirting habits, though this didn't make him value their friendship less. When college came into the picture, Shingen decided to apply for a foreign music conservatory whereas Kennyo was more interested in theological studies. The two of them rarely saw each other for a couple years, and when the chestnut haired man came back to Japan, he barely had the chance to see his friend before Kennyo departed as a member of a humanitarian organization that operated in the Middle East. His habit of putting others first was what brought him to make such a decision, and a couple years after his departure to war-torn countries, news came that he got into an accident trying to defend some civilians. Forced to come back because of his injuries, Kennyo shut everyone out of his life and went through a tough couple months, struggling with PTSD, depression, anxiety, trauma from war, etc. When Shingen visited him at the hospital, he was shocked to see how much his old friend had changed; a big scar was running from the upper right part of his face 'till the bottom left one and his eyes were dark, full of regret and hatred (probably towards the people that made war possible in those countries). It took Kennyo years and a lot of support from his family and his friend to go back to somewhat normal life, though still bringing within him permanent scars of his experiences. Despite not being very religious himself, Shingen made it a point to try and distract the priest from his heavy thoughts, going at a pub one night, taking him to an art gallery the other, and always reserving a VIP seat to his concerts, hoping to lift his spirits even if just a little

Sasuke was looking for a part time job to take on while he was attending college. One day he stumbled upon a beautiful man that looked as if sculpted from a block of ice, hurriedly trying to make his broken down car work again. Kenshin was in fact running pretty late to an important company meeting, where the topic was transforming his shop into a brand, and he definitely couldn't miss it. Sasuke, being the kind soul that's a bit of a jack of all trades when it comes to science and mechanics related things, offered his help and fixed the car in no time at all. Kenshin was left stunned at the agility with which the young man was moving his fingers, and gave him his business card, telling him that he wouldn't have hated the thought of someone like him working in his shop. In the end, Sasuke found his temporary job, and worked his ways through the ice cold hairstylist's heart, who grew to appreciate and consider him as one of his best employees. When our aspirant astronaut had to resign in order to make the next big step in his life, Kenshin felt betrayed and coldly accepted his resignation, cue Sasuke promising him to come back after achieving his dream job to help him with his business and Kenshin agreeing with a smile on his face

[autumnblogs]

Day 11: Melodrama

WIth Act 4 over, we’ve finished setting up the pins on the Earth Side of this story. We are now roughly one quarter of the way through the full story - and Homestuck is set up more or less in four acts, rather than in six acts as its “official” structure would suggest.

Time to start setting up the pins on the other disc.

https://homestuck.com/story/1942

But first, some more of Andrew’s prose to detail the fallout of the Sovereign Slayer’s activity. He’s been a busy man.

Also, Rose goes off the rails, but we knew that already.

This is the part of the story where Rose becomes an antagonist, in my opinion. More on that later. More after the break.

https://homestuck.com/story/1955

A letter from another version of Earth.

One of the very first things that we learn about Jake is that one of his all time favorite movies is Weekend at Bernie’s, an association that is part of a long list of red-herrings that link Jake up with Lord English, but of which nothing ultimately comes. It’s an association mostly because Bernie is a corpse who is also a puppet (like Doc Scratch, for example).

All that has already been pointed out by a lot of people before me, so moving on.

https://homestuck.com/story/1957

Just missed her.

https://homestuck.com/story/1993

Act 5 off to a great start, and while Karkat is in many ways a parallel to John (via their shared interests), right away, this action compares Karkat to Dave. Their reaction to being misnamed by the command prompt is pretty much identical.

https://homestuck.com/story/1994

Like I said, Karkat is pretty much immediately compared to John in terms of their shared interests, what with his Terrible Taste in Movies and his Amateur Coding.

One thing that stands out as endearing to me that I’ve probably not thought so much about before is Karkat’s practicing with his Sickle in his room. It reminds me of lightsaber wielding kids on early youtube.

https://homestuck.com/story/1995

So let’s break this and the next few pages down. Viewing the narration through the same James-Joycesque lens of “Narration is more or less identical with the characters’ thought processes,” that we have been so far, Karkat seems pretty ambivalent about existing as a troll, going as far as to describe his bad dreams as *terrible.*

Do all Trolls have dreams as bad as Karkat does? Is it a chucklevoodoos thing? Maybe it’s specifically a Karkat thing.

https://homestuck.com/story/1996

Karkat gets distracted instantly by intrusive thoughts and does something else that’s very Johnlike.

https://homestuck.com/story/1998

Aw c’mon. Early Sandler isn’t even that bad. Then again, it’s been a while since I’ve watched this one, maybe it’s worse than I remember it.

https://homestuck.com/story/1999

This section of the story is even more time-agnostic than the rest of the story, and a lot of it is told in past tense prospective action, which says to me that what we’re experiencing here is the various trolls on the meteor at the End of Act 4 collectively remembering what has taken place in the past, while the parts of this segment that are narrated in the present tense are being relayed to us via the characters in the narrative present (which is to say, the events which are being relayed to us in the panel.)

https://homestuck.com/story/2008

I wonder if Troll Will Smith is a Troll Scientologist?

https://homestuck.com/story/2010

I didn’t like the Trolls very much originally. They’re so ornery and pissy with each other all the time, with the exception of Gamzee and Tavros, but on a reread, especially keeping the things in mind that I’m keeping in mind, all of these characters are a lot more tolerable.

Using the cipher that we’ve established from reading the characters as basically attempting to perform what is culturally expected of them in the first four acts, we can immediately decode what is going on between Karkat and his friends - they are trying to be the best trolls they can be, or at least, live up to certain ideals/stereotypes the way that Dave tries to live up to the stereotype of the coolguy, or John emulates the mangrit and fatherliness and so on of his father figures.

But something is way *way* more wrong with Alternia’s role models than Earth’s.

That’s all from a Watsonian perspective. From a Doylist perspective, there are very explicit stereotypes each of these characters is designed around - commonplace annoying internet people from the ‘00s (pronounce that as Naughts).

https://homestuck.com/story/2012

There’s a lot of early installment weirdness in the first bits of Troll Stuff we get where it’s clear that Andrew was riffing and trying to find clear definitions for their relationships - it’s somewhat poorly known these days, I think, but Andrew has said in the past that he hates worldbuilding, and it kind of shows. (Did I mention that Kanaya Sollux friendship back when those two were interacting not long ago? That’s another one of those bits of early installment weirdness).

Anyway, the actual bit of early installment weirdness that I’m drawing attention to is the fact that the Subjugglators are described as being an Obscure Cult here, but later Homestuck Media (and even stuff within Homestuck, honestly) will make them out to be basically the only major aspect of being a Purple Blood.

https://homestuck.com/story/2013

Gamzee’s ignorance and his bliss are pretty much immediately linked to one another.

That said, I’m not going to dive too deep into Gamzee’s inner life. Like a lot of the trolls, in spite of his great relevance, he’s a bit of a joke character, and the joke is on us - whatever is going on inside this lad’s head is a puzzle for most of the comic.

Gamzee has a Freudian excuse in the form of his absent Lusus, which incidentally, is a parallel to Jade - the Nurture is the same, but the Nature is very differently. Unfortunately, when God was handing out Natures, he gave Gamzee one of the really bad ones, so he’s a worthless goddamn piece of shit.

https://homestuck.com/story/2024

Already into the first few troll conversations, and we’re setting up some stuff for later. Gamzee and Terezi’s very first conversation demonstrates the terrible chemistry that the two have together - Gamzee legitimately unsettles Terezi, and there’s just nothing at all she can do to bother him.

https://homestuck.com/story/2025

Sollux is probably so handy with this coding language because of his ability to hear the voices of the imminently deceased - so he can write programs that will execute along a pretty reasonable time frame.

https://homestuck.com/story/2027

Leader is a phrase that ends up being used in conjunction with Karkat a lot, and the concept of leadership is another one of those things that Homestuck Talks About but not a thing that Homestuck Is About, at least in the sense that leadership as a role is part of the comic’s broader commentary on cultural reproduction, the same way that Homestuck’s conversation about gender is, or Homestuck’s conversation about Roles in general.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Karkat wants to be a leader.

As long as Sollux is making his first appearance as a character, I want to take a second to say that as a character, he’s always been pretty tough and enigmatic for me to write, especially in the sense that he‘s frequently referred to melodramatic and sensitive or similar terms by people around him, but he actually doesn’t really seem that way in most cases - he just seems like a guy who wants to his own devices, and is generally pretty non-reactive to other peoples’ bullshit. Maybe he’s melodramatic in the way that Dave is, hyping himself up as a coolguy who is the best there is, but then again, Sollux kind of lives up to his own hype, considering that up until the last possible moment, he wins pretty much every fight he’s in handily, adapts Sburb personally, and has more romantic success than just about everyone else in the comic.

Maybe Karkat’s just projecting.

https://homestuck.com/story/2031

Roleplaying - a concept that I’ve used frequently to refer to the way that John and his chums perform rituals in order to relate to their culture and parents - is made explicit through the language of Flarping, which for the Trolls, serves as a way for them to literally act out the adventures of their long-dead ancestors, although it strikes me that it’s probably a lot more gainful for highbloods like Terezi and Vriska than it is in general for lowbloods like Aradia and Tavros.

I’ll get this out of the way up front instead of commenting it on a drip feed throughout Terezi’s upcoming courtblock roleplay - Terezi is the kind of kid who aspires to be a Cop. Or a lawyer, anyway, which in Alternian Law, is the same thing as a cop. In the wake of 2020′s scads of police brutality, and in general, having grown up into a nasty commie, it’s kind of hard to look at Terezi the same way.

While it’s clear that Terezi is remorseful later on toward her earlier attitudes and behaviors, Terezi is at least ambivalent, and at worst a purely antagonistic force throughout a lot of early Homestuck because of her authoritarian tendencies and her honestly pretty psychopathic behavior. She plays games with her friends’ lives.

https://homestuck.com/story/2047

Terezi adores having power over other people and making them helpless. For Terezi, alienation takes the form of emotional distance from the people that she’s tormenting. It makes it so much easier for her to conceive of them as wicked people who need to die.

https://homestuck.com/story/2055

Nepeta is an adorable girl who deserves all the good things. All of them.

That said, as long as we’re commentating and not glurging, Nepeta’s internet troll stereotype is probably less familiar these days, and I say probably less, but I can’t say for sure - it’s like this really specific thing that existed during the late ‘00s, where you had this highly specific stereotype, which I’ll call the Furry Artist Roleplayer, and I really hope that I’m not talking out of my ass by generalizing anecodtal evidence, but I know people who were pretty much exactly the Nepeta stereotype around the time that Act 5 was being written! Roleplaying in IRCs or on specialty forums with other people, all drawing art of their anthro OCs and writing stories about each other’s characters. That sort of thing still probably exists these days, but if it does, I’m not really part of any communities anymore where it leaks into the mainstream.

https://homestuck.com/story/2058

Okay, yup, Karkat is 100% projecting “Melodrama” on all the people around him. In a literal sense, Melodrama refers to theatrics that are exaggerated and sensationalized in such a way as to appeal to the emotions, often prioritizing spectacle and physical action over deep characterization.

Actually, if we’re taking it in the literal sense of the word, just about every character in Homestuck is pretty melodramatic - I keep talking about the way that they roleplay rituals and associate with symbols even when they fail to structures of power and culture that those rituals and symbols point to - performative participation without any actual substance. That’s practically the definition of Melodrama.

But Karkat is, perhaps, the most Melodramatic of all.

https://homestuck.com/story/2065

Aradia is one of my favorite characters in Homestuck, and possibly my favorite, something I can be up front about.

Our introduction to her is brief, and right out of the gate one thing about her is apparent - her relationship with destruction is central to her characterization.

https://homestuck.com/story/2069

While I was going to wait for the Hemospectrum to come up explicitly, now’s as good a time as any to talk about the fact that Andrew uses Troll society to comment on hierarchy a lot - hierarchy of just all kinds. Ageism is one of those, and Gerontocracy in particular in Alternia. In Alternia, just one of the ways that the oppression of the Hemospectrum manifests is the way that the Empire systematically takes advantage of its children by basically leaving them completely to their own devices. Trolls don’t have family units normally, but the fact that Troll adults are all offworld is not a “natural” part of Troll Society, it’s a decision. And while it’s a decision made by the Empress, it’s still one that, to some extent, benefits adult trolls at the expense of the children, since they’re not around spending energy on raising kids who are expected to raise themselves from the word go.

It’s honestly pretty late, and I’m tuckered out because of the steroids that I’m on, and the cough medicine, so in spite of the comparatively pretty short amount of reading I’ve done tonight, I’m going to call it here.

Cam signing off, Alive and a little High.

[th3atr3phant0m]

Siren Head

It came as a surprise to absolutely no one who even slightly knew Dib that he spent his free time investigating and attempting to hunt down cryptids. He was a fanatic in every sense of the word and incredibly interested in the side of the world (and the parts of the universe) that the majority of the others around him tended to overlook. Paranormal creatures and aliens alike had always been at the epicentre of Dib’s little world growing up and, to his father’s slight dismay, that never changed. Even as an adult, his enthusiasm never waned nor faltered.

In fact, it only became easier for him to follow these aspirations as his life went on. Not only did he have his own intellect and his family’s technology on his side, but he had an accomplice as well. His now “frenemy” (Dib loathed that word) of sorts: Zim.

Despite the complicated history of their odd relationship, the two couldn’t deny that they had grown to care for one another over the years and, slowly, they fell into a somewhat stable pattern. In spite of everything that had happened- or perhaps because of everything that had happened between them- they found themselves spending a great deal of time together. At the moment, though, neither of them were secure enough to hang out with the other aimlessly as normal friends did. They were too tied up in their own pride to allow themselves to just spend time with the other for fun- there had to be a reason behind their little get-togethers. Instead of caving and just acting as though they were a typical couple of friends, they did something that was far more intense yet still incredibly fun and interesting for one another: dual cryptid hunting.

While Zim wasn’t as passionate about the paranormal as Dib was, he found Dib’s enthusiasm beautiful and intriguing in a way that made him almost as excited as Dib was about their searches. Besides that, it was just fun and interesting in general. It allowed him to see strange parts of Earth that could definitely give him an advantage if he ever actually got around to overtaking the damned planet. It also gave him something to do- something to focus on that, strangely, made him happy. It fulfilled him in a way that many other things had failed to.

What made Zim less happy was the possibility that either of them could get severely injured or, in Dib’s case, wind up dead during their exploration. That wasn’t something that the Irken liked to focus on, though, and, truly it wasn’t a worry that popped into his mind too frequently. Especially not when they were doing the more boring but necessary parts of their “work”.

Currently, the two of them were sprawled across the floor in the centre of Zim’s living room, each on their own devices and researching the cryptid that Dib- and the majority of the internet- had most recently taken interest in: Siren Head. Zim lay on his stomach as he stared at the computer before him, mild disinterest in his eyes. He… didn’t always enjoy the less hands-on parts of this cryptid hunting- at least not when they dragged on for a long time. They had been at this for what felt like ages . So long had they been there, in fact, that Gir had fallen asleep. The fact that the tiny SIR unit who had been hell-bent on bothering them throughout the entirety of their “study session” was telling of how long they had been there and, honestly, quite the feat.

Dib, on the other hand, was far more engrossed than Zim was. While he loved the more physical aspects of getting into the field and actually interacting with the cryptids, he also loved just reading about them, gathering information about the strange happenings surrounding them and the lore that came along with their existence. Throughout almost the entire time that they had been in Zim’s base that day, Dib had remained steadfast in his focus. He had happily let himself fall into the rabbit-hole of the internet that was Siren Head and never once had his interest faltered. It was almost impressive how Dib had barely broken eye contact with his studies (and it made Zim wonder if he was this intense about his actual studies at university).

Zim tore his ruby eyes away from Dib to focus back on the device before him, lekku drooping with slight boredom as he did so.

As if sensing Zim’s waning interest, Dib paused from his typing and closed his laptop to focus his attention on his burnt-out friend, instead. His eyes looked slightly strained and tired from staring at the screen for an extended period of time and he rubbed at them briefly before speaking, “Not enough excitement for you, Space Boy?”

Zim rolled his eyes, though it was a far less useful gesture when he wasn’t wearing contacts that allowed him to make it obvious that he was attempting to do so.

Dib stretched his arms above his head, arching his back so that his spine popped satisfyingly- Zim continued to find it strange that it was normal for human bodies to make such noises- before crossing his legs and leaning back on his arms, “I can leave if you don’t want to research any more for the night.”

Zim didn’t want Dib to leave. It was nice to have someone other than GIR to visit with- someone that he could have real, intelligent conversations with. Of course, Zim appreciated the fact that he had GIR- despite how useless the robot could be most times, he did truly enjoy spending time with him- but he appreciated having other people in his life, as well, and Dib was one of those people.

“You don’t have to leave just because there isn’t any more interesting information to find about this creature.”

“Hey, there’s plenty of interesting stuff about this guy!” Dib defended.

“And we’ve seen it all already.”

“Well, sorry for not being stupid enough to run head-on into danger without knowing what I’m up against.”

Zim smirked at that, “You’ve done that your entire life, Dib-Stink.”

Dib flipped his friend off, though there was no malice behind the action, “We still don’t really know how or if we can kill or restrain it. That’s really the only thing I want to find out before we go looking for it.”

“I don’t think the humans have that knowledge, yet, Dib.”

Dib frowned at that, suspecting that Zim was right. The expression faded just as quickly as it had appeared, though, “That’s fine. That just means that we will be the people to find out whatever this thing’s weakness is!”

The corner of Zim’s lips quirked up to form a small, half-smile. There were many things that Zim had once detested about Dib but now liked or found admirable about him. One of the major things, though, was his absolutely unrelenting determination and refusal to be taken down or discouraged by anything . It was a hell of a thing to be up against and had been ridiculously annoying back when they were still constantly at each other’s throats. Now, though, it was one of the best traits to have in an ally.

“It’s getting late,” Zim noted, looking at the time on the analogue clock that hung above the television, “Don’t you humans typically sleep at this time?”

“What about me screams ‘I do typical human things’?” Dib joked, “I’m spending my free time with an alien who used to be my nemesis.”

Zim chuckled, “You do need to sleep at some point, though.”

“Aww, you care about my health, Lizard?” Dib teased.

Zim did his best to flip off Dib, though the motion was far less effective on someone who only had three fingers as opposed to the typical five of a human and the gesture only made Dib laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’ll sleep when I get home. I just don’t want to drive when it’s this dark out- I’ll wake up my roommates if I try to head back to my dorm now.” Dib hadn’t intended to spend the entire evening and into the late hours of the night there, but time had really gotten away from the two of them. Dib had been far too focused on his research and on talking to Zim than he had been on keeping track of time, and Dib doubted that Zim really had any concept of Earthen time to begin with.

“Stinky, you can sleep here, you know.” Zim suggested, “Zim’s superior Irken form doesn’t require sleep, but I am capable of sleep and have comfortable places where you can sleep for the night if you need to.”

Dib rolled his eyes at Zim’s casual mention of the strength of the Irken race but said nothing about it considering how common it was for him to boast about not only his importance and power, but that of his entire race’s as well, “Thanks, Zim, but I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to pass out in the middle of doing research and sleep on the floor, aren’t you?” Zim asked, though it didn’t come out as much of a question.

“You have such little faith in me,” Dib shook his head.

“You are human after all,” Zim retorted, grinning.

Dib snorted. “Dick,” the insult sounded far more affectionate than he had intended, though.

~~~

“Okay, so, the way I see it, there are only three basic steps that we need to take for this to be successful.”

“And what, exactly, do you propose those steps would be?” Zim asked.

“Step one: Research-”

“We’ve already completed that step.”

“I wasn’t saying that we hadn’t-”

“It was implied.”

“Can you just shut up and let me finish?” Dib rolled his eyes, continuing to speak once Zim went quiet, allowing him to do so, “Step two: acquire materials.”

“And step three?”

“That’s where we actually go into the forest in search of Siren Head.”

“Then, in your opinion, we’re already one-third of the way complete?”

“Pretty much. I mean, it’s an incredibly simplified step-by-step list, but, really, researching and gathering materials is all we need to do before we actually head out there. We don’t need to complicate the process.”

“You say that as if that isn’t something you do as frequently as breathing.”

“ You’re one to talk,” Dib retorted, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, “Anyways, what do we know that we need to bring with us? Other than audio and video recording devices for evidence, obviously.”

“Some sort of noise-cancelling headphones.”

“For the screaming?” Siren Head was known for deafening people with screams that were so intense and caused such pain that their ears bled and they went crazy from the sound. Many had, supposedly, been immobilized by the creature’s screams.

“No, for the aesthetic- yes , for the screaming you imbecile.”

Dib glared at that comment, “The only problem with that is that no human-made technology would be strong enough for that- nothing that we have access to, anyways. Besides, if we’re both wearing headphone that completely cancels out the noise around us, we won’t be able to hear one another or the warning signs that it’s getting closer.”

“One, you’re the only one who is in need of the headphones,” Zim countered, holding up one clawed finger as he began his list, “Two, you wouldn’t listen to the warnings of it approaching even if you did hear them.”

“I wouldn’t heed the warnings, but it’s still safer to know what’s happening and be able to prepare for it properly,” Dib paused, “And why do I need the headphones but not you ?”

“That thing could kill humans by drawing them in with false or hypnotic noises or by screaming and bursting their eardrums. Irkens , on the other hand, don’t process sound in the ways that you do. I won’t sustain serious damage or lose my hearing permanently if I listen to its noises. You will.”

“Don’t Irkens have better hearing than humans?”

“I didn’t say it wouldn’t hurt , it just won’t be able to seriously harm me- my pak defence and healing mechanisms won’t allow that to happen.”

“Fair enough, I guess, but aren’t you capable of being hypnotised by sounds? Or being tricked by it faking voices of people you know?”

“ Technically , but it won’t happen.”

Dib looked unimpressed and raised a brow.

Zim sighed, “It could trick or hypnotize me, but since we’re going out there looking for it rather than stumbling upon it unexpectedly, I don’t think it will be as effective against either of us.”

That was a fairly decent point and made sense based off of the evidence. It would be far more difficult for it to trick them when they knew what it had on its side as far as power went.

“Fine,” Dib relented, “But we really should make some sort of protectors for you, as well. I don’t want you to be completely vulnerable out there, even if your headphones won’t be as effective.”

“I’d really rather not wear a ridiculous pair of headphones just to make the noises slightly less intense. It’s likely that I’ll still be able to hear it, either way.”

“And I’d rather you not go crazy in the middle of the woods because some loud noises overtake you and scramble your brain,” Dib countered, “Even if they aren’t perfect with blocking everything out, they’ll do enough to keep you safe. Plus, if you can still hear with them, you’ll be able to use that to our advantage- hopefully without getting too hurt.”

Zim groaned, “ Fine , if it will calm you down, I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Dib gave him a small smile, glad he had won the debate, “Let’s get started on making those headphones.”

~~~

While humans had made leaps and bounds in creating headphones and earbuds that were fairly good at blocking out other sounds from outside sources, none of them would be powerful enough to block out anything loud enough to burst people’s eardrums. Especially considering the fact that Zim had far better hearing than most humans did (and had a different skull structure than them), no regular headphones would work for him. Nothing that they could find online or in stores in person would be good enough for what they needed and they weren’t certain that any currently existing headphones were good enough to even use as a base. That in mind, Zim and Dib decided to completely start from scratch when making the headphones.

For the most part, the only thing that they used normal headphone blueprints for was getting the shape correct for Dib’s pair of headphones. Other than that, they almost completely ignored the typical process for creating the device.

While most headphones were made of plastics, vinyls, and silicone, the main materials that they used were ones that were used frequently by the Irken Armada and couldn’t even be found on Earth as well as strong but typical Earthen metals. These things would block sound, reflecting it rather than absorbing or drawing it in. For the pieces that would be the closest Dib’s ears, they used things that were able to be found on earth- mainly consisting of pliable, porous cloth and sealant.

It took quite a bit of time to perfect the headphones. While Zim and Dib wanted to complete the project together, Dib had college classes and Zim had a part-time job, so their schedules clashed often, making it sometimes difficult for them to get enough time together for them to be able to fully focus on and make progress for their project.

Despite the scheduling difficulties they faced on more than one occasion, they were eventually able to create something that they hoped would work perfectly for their plan- one pair of headphones that were completely noise cancelling for Dib and one pair of vaguely headphone-esque things that lessened noise for Zim.

At least, they were hopeful that the things would work. While both of them were very confident in their abilities and the work that they had created together, they decided that it would be best for them to try out their inventions before actually trying to find Siren Head. They didn’t want to get into the forest and find Siren Head only to discover that their devices worked far less well than they intended and have either of them sustain serious injuries due to it.

This lead to some serious testing as well as some… not so serious testing of their devices.

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?!” Zim was screaming at the top of his lungs- something that he was quite good at considering all fo the practice he had gotten for it over the years.

Egged on by the excitement of the situation, GIR joined in on the screaming fest, voice becoming nearly as loud as Zim’s while hitting a far higher octave, “CAN YOU HEAR? CAN YOU!?”

“I CAN SEE THAT YOU GUYS ARE TALKING, BUT I CAN’T HEAR SHIT,” Dib called back. He couldn’t hear his own voice as clearly or as loudly as he typically was able to, and he couldn’t truly tell how loud he was being, leading to him screaming rather than speaking his questions.

Zim blinked, unable to hear either of them at all, “WHAT?” “WHAT?” Dib screamed back, squinting as if trying to read Zim’s lips.

Zim removed his own headphones, confident that they worked well enough for their upcoming expedition. He continued to scream, though, wanting to see whether or not Dib’s were working as well as his had.

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Zim repeated, keeping his volume consistent with how loud he had been screaming previously.

“I CAN’T HEAR- ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE YELLING LOUD ENOUGH?”

“WE ARE SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF OUR-”

GIR cut Zim off with a loud screech that pierced through Zim words, cutting through their air like a knife with his nonsensical noises. He began screaming and continued to make the hideous noise for several long moments that Zim found agonizingly irritating, pinning his antenna back both at the loud noise and the annoyance of GIR’s actions.

Once the silence finally returned, Zim spoked, “Are you done ?”

His question was met with another loud scream from GIR- though this time it was, thankfully, far shorter and less intense.

Zim put a hand over his face, rubbing his temples for a moment before looking up to Dib and meeting his eyes, “So, I take it you didn’t-”

“I STILL CAN’T HEAR YOU.”

With a groan, Zim mimed taking off the headphones. Dib followed suit by actually removing them once seeing this.

“So I take it you didn’t hear any of that?” Zim asked, eyes flickering over to GIR in a slightly distasteful manner, still somewhat disturbed by the robot’s earlier display.

“Nope!” Dib followed Zim’s gaze to the robot, who was, at that point, cheerfully playing with some random pieces of scrap metal he had found scattered around the lab and put two and two together, “I guess it worked, then?”

“Good,” Zim couldn’t hold back his pleased smile at the confirmation that it had worked, proud of himself- of them as a team- for putting together something that was not only perfect for what they needed, but that actually functioned well, “Does this mean we can move onto the final step?”

“We should probably get some other basic supplies, but, other than that...” Dib found himself grinning as well, amber eyes shining with delighted excitement, “I think we’re actually good to go!”

That night, the two of them celebrated with some strange, homemade waffles that GIR made. The waffles were surprisingly very good, despite the strangeness of having waffles that had M&M’s and sprinkles mixed into the batter, and it seemed like a fitting way to celebrate their success. Plus, GIR was thrilled to be able to be part of their operation in one way or another.

All in all, the day had been a complete success.

~~~

Dib wasn’t the tallest person ever, but, considering his source of genetic material, he was no shrimp, either. Over the years, he had grown quite a bit- as humans tend to do- and even Zim wasn’t as short as he had been when he first arrived on Earth. Despite that, the two of them knew that their height was nothing compared to that of the Siren Head and their stature would be a massive handicap when they went up against the large creature.

Because of this, they decided that they would need to obtain one more thing for their expedition to be successful (though they hated to put it off even longer): grappling hooks.

As ridiculous as it sounded, they knew that there was little chance that they would be able to do much to harm or restrain Siren Head without the assistance of such devices and, according to WikiHow, they were incredibly easy to make.

Making the grappling hooks themselves wasn’t too difficult. All that they truly needed were ropes (they used ones of steel to avoid easy breaks), hooks, and, if they were feeling fancy, some sort of launching mechanism. Their combined knowledge of engineering and machinery made it incredibly easy for the two of them to create several of these grappling hooks quickly, leaving them with three each- all of which they were able to complete in one day.

Even the testing of these devices was quick and easy… and, in all honesty, incredibly fun for the two of them. They would be lying if they said that they hadn’t spent more time playing around with them than necessary.

Together, they spent hours messing around with the grappling hooks as they worked to “test” them. They launched the hooks to the tops of buildings and grappled their way around. They worked on their aim and general handling of the devices of course, but, for the most part, they just fooled around with the machines, having fun swinging around like idiots.

During this “testing” period of their preparation journey, Dib finally decided what his favourite part about Zim’s entire house was: the numerous tubes and wires that hung in a massive tangle above their heads in every room.

“Fuck off, Fool-Boy!” Zim screeched as he attempted to outrun- outswing? Outgrapple?- Dib.

“Never, Lizard-Feed!” Dib cackled. He was doing his best to dual wield two of his grappling hooks so that he could move as quickly as possible. While the basement of Zim’s home was practically a labyrinth, the complexities of the wires above gave him plenty of material for travel.

Dib wasn’t the only one who was proficient with a grappling hook, though.

Just as quickly as Dib zipped through the air, Zim dodged his playful attacks and avoided him with just as much grace as his human counterpart. Throughout their childhoods, they had had numerous run-ins with one another and had fought so frequently that an elaborate dance developed between the two of them as time went on. Nothing really compared to their Spider-Man-esque battle among the wires of Zim’s ceiling, though.

“You have the grace of a piñata, Dib-Thing,” Zim glanced over his shoulder only to shoot Dib an overly-confident grin, “You have no chance against m-”

Rudely, Dib swung up right beside Zim, kicking at him to throw him off-balance since neither of his hands were free. He manically laughed as Zim let out a startled shreik, swinging away before Zim had time to recover and retaliate.

“Oh, you are dead , now, Stinky!”

Dib wasn’t threatened by Zim’s words in the least. In fact, they just inspired him to make another attack on his other-worldly friend.

With a high-pitched chirp, Zim extended his pak legs and retracted his grappling hooks, opting to run instead.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Dib chuckled, attempt to gain enough control over his own grappling hooks to apprehend Zim. The added speed and power that Zim had with the pak legs, though, made it a bit difficult.

“There are no laws of cryptid hunting, Dib-Beast.”

“For someone’s who’s only recently start cryptid hunting, you sure sound confident about that,” Dib raised an eyebrow but he was far more intent on their strange game of tag than on their usual banter. Still, their playful back and forth was a constant in their strange relationship and neither of them dropped it, even when they were more focused on other things.

“And for someone from a species completely inadequate compared to mine, you sure sound confident when talking about besting me.” Zim leapt to the side, thankful that his nimble pak legs made it possible for him to avoid his friend’s “attacks” against him.

“Well, I did succeed in making you stop trying to plan world dominaion, so I’d say I have a right to my confidence.”

Zim let out an affronted noise as though Dib’s words were an unforgivable attack upon his entire species, “You convinced me of nothing! I made that decision completely of my own volition. I don’t need a human to tell m- ACK!”

Zim’s haughty rant was cut off by Dib crashing into him at full speeds, the human deciding to take advantage of the alien’s moment of distraction to take him down and win this little game of theirs.

Dib was about to celebrate his success, but, when hurtling towards his friend as fast as his grappling hook would allow, he hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that just maybe swinging at a non-moving object at ridiculous speeds would end up taking him down as well.

The grip that Dib had on his grappling hook faltered and completely slipped from his grasp upon making contact with Zim, sending both of them crashing to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs. Zim landed beneath Dib in an uncomfortable position. Were he human, he would have completely knocked the air out of his lungs during their tumble.

Zim glared up at his human for a moment, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for too long- not when Dib was already dissolving into laughter.

“I really should have seen that coming.”

Zim began snickering at their fall as well, “You’re an absolute dunce , sometimes.”

Several moments passed between the two of them, neither bothering to move from their position entangled on the hard, tiled floor of the base, both laughing too hard and too amused by their combined stupidity in the situation to do anything else.

Finally, their laughter tapered off and the two of them looked up at Dib’s grappling hook, dangling from the sky. While both Dib and Zim had fallen upon impact, the device had stubbornly remained hooked to the wires of the ceiling, leaving it hanging several feet above their heads.

“How do you plan on getting that down, wise guy?”

Dib met Zim’s eyes with a grin, aiming his other grappling hook up near the other one. Really, Zim didn’t know what he expected if not that.

“I genuinely cannot believe that you’re still alive, Dib.”

~~~

Aside from the headphones and grappling hooks that Dib and Zim had created and now stored in Dib’s blue, mildly beaten up truck, the two of them also brought along anything that they believed could be of use to them on their journey. This included several different kinds of recording equipment, extra lengths of rope, a flashlight, and a device that registered all noises in the surrounding area and would display said noises visually for the two of them. These items were stored in Zim’s pak and the pockets of Dib’s coat, forgoing the extra storage of Dib’s briefcase for their actual trek out of a concern that it would get in the way.

Overall, the two of them felt extremely prepared for the entire situation and were confident that they would not only be alive by the end of the night but have some sort of definitive evidence to support their claims as well.

Dib parked the truck in a small, gravel lot not far from the forest that they were planning on traversing for the night. It was a dense, wooded area that stretched for several miles and was a popular camping ground. Despite this, it wasn’t difficult to spend an entire week camping out there without ever running into another person, considering the vastness of the forest (or so the internet said, neither Zim nor Dib had ever camped in that particular forest… or at all).

The forest was, in every way, the perfect hunting grounds for Siren Head and there had even been several supposed sightings and hearings of the creature alongside several strange disappearances and deaths related to the area.

While this forest was their best bet of finding it without leaving their state- or country, for that matter- it was also a massive area and they anticipated needing to spend quite a decent chunk of the night searching or even needing to return days later to look again (they did not look forward to trying to fit another night of this into their cluttered schedules). Zim didn’t need to sleep and therefore didn’t really get tired . Dib, on the other hand, was only human and prepared for spending the night searching by drinking four cups of coffee before leaving and sleeping for a bit of the day.

Dib was about to get out of the car before Zim grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“What?” Dib asked, turning to face his friend.

Zim gestured towards the headphones they had made, “I’m not letting you get killed by that siren creature, Dib-Beast.”

Dib let out a small huff of air as he grabbed the two headsets, handing one of them to Zim, “Right back at you, Space Boy. If you need to say something, try to act it out or something.”

“Creative,” Zim teased, a small smirk on his lips, “Don’t forget to look at that device for anything peculiar. If you get yourself killed, I’ll bring you back myself so I can pummel you.”

Dib rolled his eyes, “Same to you, Zim.”

Zim puffed out his chest, huffing slightly, “As if you could ever do such a thing.”

Despite their words, though, they both chuckled.

With that, the two of them secured their headsets, completely cutting off the sound from the rest of the world for the time being. Losing an entire sense, even for a small amount of time, created a strange sense of vulnerability that neither of them was quite used to or comfortable with. Nonetheless, it was necessary for their safety, so the two of them simply exited and locked the truck behind them, carrying several pieces of their equipment along with them as they went.

There were a lot of things that could tip one off to the location of Siren Head. Those things, however, were only obvious if you knew what you were looking- or, in this case, listening- for. Almost everything that could lead them towards Siren Head was the sounds that the creature would emit, but leaving their headphones off for an extended period of time was not the safest course of action and neither Zim nor Dib were idiotic enough to completely forego the devices. Besides, the “hints” that came with Siren Head could be cryptic and, oftentimes, not really understood until it was too late.

White noise. Gentle breeze and running waters and distantly singing birds. The peaceful noises that everyone hears daily and pays little mind. The soft, lovely songs of the forest that people fall asleep to every night.

And then a terribly loud, ear-splitting, bone-chilling noise.

Followed by nothing.

No, they weren’t going to risk going through that just so that they could hear the “tell-tale” signs of Siren Head coming. They would hear the white noise of the forest all around them whether or not it was there- hearing it was a far cry from a true hint of what was to come. They were safer like this, even if neither of them wanted to admit it.

Dib opened his noise to speak as they drew nearer to the entrance of the dense forest before them, but, of course, Zim didn’t hear his question about where they should start. Dib just sighed.

They foraged forwards, heading into the thick woods. Underfoot, leaves crunched and twigs snapped but all of that remained utterly silent. It felt trange despite the fact that both of them knew that that would be the case before they even entered. The feeling of the ground beneath them was enough to ground Zim, even if he had completely lost another of his senses- one of the senses he relied upon the most.

For a moment, Dib glanced down to the device in his hands. The dimly lit green light displayed the noise all around them, showing that there was, in fact, very little going on in the woods. He did notice something, though. Further away, it looked as though there was a slightly louder noise.

Dib squinted, bringing the device closer to his face. Was it the Siren Head? They hadn’t been there for very long- it seemed almost too easy for that to be the case. The closer he looked, though, the less likely that seemed. It wasn’t a very loud nor intense noise. Maybe it was an animal of some sort? Or perhaps-

Something wrapped tightly around Dib’s upper arm, cinching around the flesh in an iron grip.

With a startled jump, what Dib assumed would have been an ear-piercing shriek had Dib had the ability to hear anything tore its way from his throat, reverberating in the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the green line flare up, spiking with the sound of his screams.

His panic was short-lived.

When he looked up to face whatever it was, he was met with a completely unintimidating sight: his Irken companion, eyes blown wide and lekku pinned back- probably startled by Dib’s response to his touch.

Dib’s muscles relaxed. He took several deep breaths, calming himself down, reminding himself that he was not in danger, despite what his immediate instincts told him. He took a step back as he regained control of his senses.

“You startled me, you dick,” Dib muttered, knowing that Zim wouldn’t hear him.

“Idiot,” Zim hissed back.

While Dib couldn’t hear whatever it was that Zim had said, his facial expression- and his general douchey-ness that DIb had come to know so well over the years- made it obvious that it was some sort of insult.

Dib flipped his friend off.

Zim let out a heavy sigh, “You can’t just wander off. I thought you were going to get lost.”

With a roll of his eyes, Dib gestured towards his headphones.

“Ugh. Stupid fucking…” Zim gave up trying to talk to him, deciding to mime his words instead. He pointed to Dib, made a walking motion with his fingers, and then crossed his arms into an ‘X’.

Dib still looked completely lost.

With a dramatic groan, Zim just grabbed his friend’s hand, lacing their fingers together- something that was somewhat awkward considering the fact that Zim had two fewer fingers than Dib did, though not as uncomfortable as either of them had anticipated.

Zim pointed at their clasped hands definitively and nodded trying to signify that they would stay like that- for safety reasons, of course.

While Dib wasn’t completely sure why Zim decided to hold his hand, he could make a good enough guess based off of the gesture. So, he just nodded and gave Zim’s hand a gentle squeeze, signifying that he understood.

Zim returned the nod before turning to look in front of them, gazing deeper into the abyss of the woods.

It didn’t take much miming for Dib to understand that his friend wanted to continue towards their actual mission.

Together, they made their way through the forest, disappearing deeper and deeper into the darkened land all around them. As the light of the world dimmed the further they went, Dib grabbed his flashlight, flicking it on so that he could illuminate their way.

The large flashlight that Dib held in his free hand was perhaps one of the best purchases he had ever made. The beam of light that it cast was like a small, portable sun in his hands and it had several different settings for whatever intensity of light they needed. It didn’t stop there, though. The device was crafted from a heavy, sturdy metal that he could easily use as a bludgeoning weapon if it became necessary- not that it would stand much of a chance against the Siren Head, but it was still better to have it just in case.

As Dib manned the flashlight, Zim grabbed the noise device from where it was attached to Dib’s belt, hanging on his hip, and held it up between them with the hand that wasn’t holding Dib’s so that they could both see it.

The readings on the device were normal- well, normal for their location in the middle of a forest late at night- and gave no signs of anything amiss. It was clear that the sounds around them were typical and far from the piercing shrieks and thunderous footfalls of the Siren Head. That , at the very least, was good. It meant that it hadn’t found them yet… hopefully.

While their hopes weren’t exactly high (Dib and Zim were many things, but “optimist” was not included on either of those lists), it was certainly possible for them to discover the creature before it discovered them. It may have had the advantage of its height and power to manipulate sound, but those things came with their disadvantages as well.

For starters, it would be far easier for Dib and Zim to spot Siren Head than it would the other way around. While it could somewhat blend in with trees, a sentient creature of such monstrous size wasn’t easily camouflaged. They , on the other hand, were far smaller than it and weren’t as easy to spot in the middle of the forest. Plus, with their headgear, the Siren Head didn’t exactly have a leg up on them with its deafening screeches.

If they could spot the creature before it became aware of them, they would have everything that they needed to take it down. It wouldn’t be easy by any means, but it certainly would make things less difficult.

Things never worked out that way, though.

Before they even saw the readings on their device, they felt the presence of the Siren Head. Rather, the creature was so gargantuan in size that, even the lightest of its footfalls could be felt and with every step it took, the ground beneath their very feet shook and trembled, nearly powerful enough to knock them off their centre of balance. Dib could feel the vibrations of its movement in his very bones.

Forgetting the sound device completely, the two of them turned their faces up to gaze skywards, whirling around to look behind them.

As they expected, lumbering towards them was what appeared to be a tree. Under the scrutinizing light of Dib’s flashlight, though- and with their knowledge of the creature- they knew better.

Making its way towards them was a heavily emaciated creature, its flesh stretched so tightly over its gnarled bones that it hardly looked as though it had any skin, to begin with. In fact, the creature almost looked as though it were nothing more than a tangle of wood and tree branches growing together haphazardly. Were it not for the distinct humanoid bone structure of the creature, it could almost pass for a regular tree.

Oh, and then there were the heads- the thing that earned it its namesake.

Dib and Zim couldn’t help but stop and stare in absolute wonder as the beam of light travelled up the creatures torso and shone upon its “face”. Perched atop its thin, craggy neck were two sirens pointing in opposing directions, several rows of jagged, humanoid teeth in the gaping maw of each siren.

The sounds that the creature emitted as it unhinged its terrible jaw drowned out any and all sound around them, completely dominating the device that hung limply in Zim’s clawed hand and not allowing anything else to register on it, even as Dib attempted to speak to him from directly next to him.

They truly were lucky for their headsets. If they couldn’t even see any noise other than the creature’s footsteps and screams, they would be dead by now without their headphones (or, at least, Dib would be dead- a thought that made the Irken sick to his stomach- and Zim in immeasurable pain).

“NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO GO!” Dib shouted, straining his voice to be heard or seen in any way. His attempts were futile, though. Instead, he tugged on Zim’s hand, drawing his attention to himself as he wildly gestured towards the creature drawing nearer by the second.

Zim didn’t need to hear Dib’s words to know what he was trying to communicate. Narrowing his eyes, he nodded definitively towards his human companion and began making his first move.

For the first time all night, Dib and Zim split up. They didn’t stray too far from one another, no, they just ran in opposite directions so that they would be on either side of the Siren Head. Even for a creature with limbs like that , it would be difficult for it to grab both of them at once when they were in this position. Doing this would give them enough time to rescue the other or escape if either of them was captured.

As the bone-like arms of the creature swung with its movement, Dib gulped, hoping that it wouldn’t come to that.

Shaking the worry from his head, Dib detached one of the grappling hooks from where it hung at his side and lifted it, aiming towards the creature. With one eye closed to stabilize his aim, Dib pulled the trigger, launching the hook through the air and towards one of the creature’s arms. As it soared through the air, Dib sank his teeth into his lower lip, hoping that the claw of the device would catch on the creature so he could restrain it.

Siren Head wasn’t easily fooled, though. The glint of the metal claw in the moonlight was enough to alert it to the approaching grappling hook.

Instead of allowing it to hit its mark, Siren Head caught the end of the small device in its hand and tugged it towards itself.

Dib shrieked as he was pulled off of his feet and sent sprawling to the ground with the force of the Siren Head’s movements, releasing the device despite himself as he fell. The revolting taste of dirt filled Dib’s mouth as he crashed down and he grimaced at the feeling. Once he spat the gritty substance from his mouth, he gasped for the air that was knocked cruelly from his lungs as he fell.

Confused, and not noticing that its human victim had fallen instead of being dragged along by the line, Siren Head held up the device, searching for the human where it assumed it should be connected.

If Zim had a heart- anatomically speaking, of course- it would have stopped for a moment at the mere sight of Dib’s actions. Concern coursed through his body as he saw Dib wipe out completely followed by mild relief as he saw the human stir, confirming that he was, at the very least, alright enough to move.

Looking back up to the creature, Zim saw what he needed to do. He had to attack while Siren Head was distracted with the foreign device in its grasp and he had to do it before it realized where Dib truly was.

Zim took on a more solid stance and launched his grappling hook at the arm closest to him. Unlike Dib’s first attempt, Zim was successful- Siren Head remaining still for the moment making it easier. The claws of the device hooked onto the sinewy appendage of the monster and embedded itself into whatever strange material it was that the creature consisted of.

Regaining his composure, Dib followed suit, using his second grappling hook to get the other creature’s arm under his control.

In near synchronicity, the two companions moved quickly, rushing to two different trees on either side of the creatures and attaching their end of the grappling hook to the tree, doing their best to wrap it around the trunk and knot the thick metal rope that had been used in their making.

Once close enough, Zim caught Dib by his shoulder and gestured for Dib to take up his camera.

Stepping back, Dib did as Zim suggested, grabbing his camera and beginning to snap photos of the monstrous being that stood like a sentient tree in the forest, confusedly thrashing and inspecting its restraints, though both Dib and Zim had the feeling that even the reinforced materials they had used for the devices were weak against Siren Head.

As Dib did his best to capture photographic evidence of the encounter, Zim snatched his second grappling hook into his clutches and shot it once more. This time, he aimed for the Siren Head’s pelvic bone, hoping to confuse the creature with the attack from a new angle.

Thankfully, Zim’s aim was true and the claws hooking into Siren Head’s obturator foramen.

Zim couldn’t help the small smile of pride that spread across his face as he saw the momentary confusion of the creature in response to the attempted restraints. He and DIb were doing shockingly well up against the beast and he couldn’t help but feel a little bit full of himself (though that was nearly his constant state).

That excitement was short-lived as Siren Head’s confusion turned into rage. Clearly, the cryptid had had enough of the two’s shenanigans and was sick of their struggles against it and its powers.

With little effort, it snapped the metallic ropes that bound it, trashing its arms out to break free and doing so with ease. Scaps of metal torn from the rope rained down above them. The angry movements even uprooted one of the trees that it had been tethered to, sending the innocent arboreal riend several feet away from its original home to meet its final resting place.

“Er, Dib?” Zim called, taking a few steps back as he witnessed the movements of the creature, “I think we should go.”

Nearly entranced with the sight before him and the task at hand, the nature of their situation didn’t fully sink in for Dib and, clearly, he couldn’t even hear his friend’s words as he tried to warn him.

Thankfully for both of them, despite what Zim claimed throughout their childhood, Dib was not stupid and, once he saw that Siren Head was beginning to make its way towards them, he stuffed the camera into one of his free pockets and ran .

The two of them ran side-by-side. As they exited the forest, though, they didn’t hold hands as they did previously. They didn’t need the physical grounding force to remind them where the other was and they certainly didn’t need the handicap of being slowed down by doing so. Up against this thing, even their amazing physique earned over their years of fighting and training seemed pathetic and weak. They needed everything that they had to escape the cryptid’s clutches.

The enormous cryptid had ridiculously long legs, though, and, even when not running at full speed, it was getting far to close to them for comfort at a far too quick pace. Siren Head was practically taking mile-long steps for each foot they moved. It was too fast for them and it only got faster and closer with every second. There was no way they could outrun that thing.

Dibs chest heaved with the effort of staying calm while keeping his speed up. Zim’s fists pumped through the air and his boots pounded against the dirt beneath them as they tried to outrun the thing. Branches from nearby trees whipped at the faces, leaving scratches that would certainly still be there tomorrow but that neither of them paid any mind to- too focused on the task at hand to take notice of the sensation. Faintly, Dib could hear the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Having gone so long without hearing anything , the sound only made him more anxious.

Zim dared to cast a glance behind them and practically felt his throat close up at the very sight of the cryptid. Siren Head was practically on top of them now, just a little too far away for the creature to reach out and grab them. Now that it was so close to them, its enormous height was even more prominent and made it all the more awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Making a split-second decision, Zim ejected his pak legs and looped his arms around Dib’s waist, pulling his companion close to him as the six legs raised him off the ground by several feet, bringing him with him as it did so. The moment that Zim had Dib in his grasp, the pak legs began moving. The extra height of the six appendages and the speed that they provided from a combination of them being numerous and mechanical gave them an advantage that they didn’t have on foot.

Siren Head may have been the tallest living creature that either of them had seen (Dib in his entire lifetime and Zim for the first time in ages), but the pak legs were far more dexterous than the cryptid could ever imagine. While the monster smashed through trees and logs as it sped towards them, they took advantage of the pak legs’ abilities. They scuttled around in an almost spider-like manner, alternating between scrambling up trees, leaping from branches, and darting around quickly on the ground. They moved in erratic patterns that they hoped were too indistinguishable and complicated for Siren Head to follow.

Finally, the lines of trees surrounding them thinned and they could see that the edge of the forest was near. They could practically taste the freedom of their escape.

Dib snatched the lanyard with his car keys out of his pocket and frantically smashed the buttons to unlock the doors and remotely start it up, his other arm still clinging tightly to Zim to avoid being dropped to his demise. If they wanted to get out alive, they didn’t have any time to waste. They needed to be able to jump into the car the second they got out and book it .

After what felt like an eternity, they burst through the line of trees. The two of them almost screamed with relief as they saw the headlights of Dib’s car in the distance.

They weren’t fools, though, and didn’t take time to celebrate the victory of getting out of there. They still weren’t in the clear, not just yet. Siren Head may have “lived” in that forest, but nothing was stopping it from leaving when it wanted or needed to do so and it was certainly mad enough to follow them into the parking lot. Instead, they hurtled towards the vehicle as fast as they could.

Zim practically body slammed the two of them into the car door, his momentum too intense to stop them so suddenly as they grappled to get the door open.

Instead of going around to the other side to get into the driver’s side, Dib simply half let Zim throw him and half scrambled over the centre console to get to the driver’s seat.

Completely forgoing their seat belts, Dib threw the car into drive and slammed his foot down on the gas, jolting the two of them as he did so. Zim didn’t even have time to close the door behind him before they were peeling out of the parking lot and zooming into the road at ungodly speeds that few people were ballsy enough to drive at under regular circumstances.

It wasn’t until they were speeding down the road and had gotten far away from the forest they had been at that Zim finally took off his headphones before snatching Dib’s off as well and tossing both pairs into the back seat. “Put on your seatbelt before you get yourself killed,” Zim instructed, securing his own, “We’re far enough away.” He didn’t add in the fact that he only thought that they were far enough away from the creature for them to do so safely.

Regardless, Dib slowed down a little and clicked his own seatbelt in place. He let out a shaky sigh and gripped the steering wheel once more, doing so so tightly that his knuckles turned white with the force.

They sat in relative silence for several moments, just putting space between them and the place they had just escaped from.

“I believe you are still going above the speed limit, Dib-Friend,” Zim said gently. He could tell that his human was a little shaken up by the situation despite the fact that he encountered near-death experiences incredibly frequently. He could tell the adrenaline from the situation was wearing off and the exhaustion was sinking back into his bones.

With a shake of his head to collect his thoughts, Dib slowed down to a more reasonable pace. After a moment, he slowly grinned, “I cannot believe we just did that!”

Zim couldn’t help but smile as well, relieved that Dib didn’t seem too shaken up, “Yeah, you were an absolute idiot out there. It’s a miracle that we got out of there.”

“Hey!” Dib defended, though he knew that there was no malice in his friend’s words, “I did just as well as you did- and I got the pictures.”

Zim snorted, “I can’t argue with that.”

“Speaking of, do you think we got any good ones?”

“It looked like you took nearly a hundred,” Zim reasoned, “I’m sure at least once of them was decent.”

Dib nodded, “Mind looking for me?” Normally, he would just wait until they got back to Zim’s home to check, but they still had a bit of driving to do and he was anxious to see how they had turned out.

“Sure.” Zim leaned across the centre console to reach into the pocket of DIb’s trenchcoat and retrieve the device in question.

As Dib drove, Zim powered up the camera and began scrolling through the pictures taken that night. Several of them were incredibly blurry, but there were also a few really good ones that could certainly prove the creature’s existence. There were also, of course, many pictures that were somewhere between perfection and garbage fire status, as well. Overall, though, they definitely had several successful shots of the creature.

He kept scrolling through them.

Then, he saw something else. It didn’t really surprise Zim- he already knew that the pictures existed and he could clearly recall when they had taken it together.

The photo was a “selfie” of him and Dib sitting side-by-side, a smile on each of their faces. In the pictures, Dib had a practically shit-eating grin as though he had just made a terrible joke and Zim looked somewhat caught off-guard, laughing at whatever his friend had said but cringing at the horrible joke.

Zim felt a smile slowly make its way across his face as he saw the took in the contents of the pictures.

Dib glanced over at his companion, “You’re smiling- is that a yes? Are they good?”

“Yes, Dib-Thing,” Zim confirmed, power the camera off once more, “Yes they are.”

Zim wouldn’t reveal the real reason he was smiling- he didn’t know if he would ever be comfortable enough to be vulnerable like that around even his best friend. They had been victorious that night, though, so it wasn’t completely a lie to say that that was the reason for his glee.

Besides, the little cheer from Dib about their successful night was too good for him to break by admitting his own happiness was from the memory.

Before them, the road stretched out almost endlessly with few other cars alongside them. They were no longer in danger. For now, it was just the two of them basking in their victory as their cryptid hunting mixed tape played quietly over the speakers in Dib’s car.

Yes. That night had gone well.

Link to where I originally posted the story here.

Wonderful art by the lovely @sai-doodles​!

[mable-stitchpunk]

ARI Nightmares AU Masterpost

A few months ago I began a series known as ARI Nightmares, a FNAF AU series of stories, so I decided to make a post showing what it’s all about and giving links to the current (and future) stories.

Premise:

ARI Nightmares takes place in an alternate universe where William Afton’s children avoided an early grave and grew up to be the sole inheritors of Afton Robotics. With William deceased- and his children aware of his crimes- they’ve taken it upon themselves to make up for what their father has done and clear their family name. Usually this involves disarming the dangerous and demented machines he left in his wake.

Characters:

Elizabeth (Lizzie) Afton:

William’s sole daughter, Lizzie grew up as the golden child of the family until an accident at a young age fractured her relationship with her father. Since then, Lizzie finds it difficult to open up to others or be vulnerable. She’s self-sufficient but can be abrasive at times, and only opens her softer side to those she knows well or those she feels empathy for. While she takes care in her appearance, Lizzie isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty- though don’t expect her to be entirely pleased doing so.

When she was a child, Lizzie was gifted an animatronic known as Circus Baby. Specifically, William said she was for her but would not let her get close to the animatronic. She eventually did while unsupervised at a birthday party which nearly resulted in Baby tearing her arm off. She was rescued, but the memories of that day have shaped Lizzie forever. Even now she has a distaste and wariness for animatronics, especially those of the Baby model.

Michael Afton:

William’s oldest son, Michael was forced to live much of his life being compared to his father, which has always been a sore spot. This has left him to become much of a loner distancing himself from others. Though underneath that he is compassionate, protective, and constantly seeking ways to be better than the man he was compared to all those years ago.

Even before he knew of his father’s crimes, Michael and his father frequently feuded and didn’t get along. He eventually moved out and went to college, where he met Ben, and only returned to Hurricane after William passed away. He then decided to stay and run Afton Robotics with Lizzie, seeing it as a way to put his skills as a technician to good use.

Benedict (Eggs) Hansberry:

Michael’s best friend and roommate, Ben is a technician who works at Afton Robotics. His good humored and upbeat personality somewhat works to counteract Michael and Lizzie’s sardonic natures. A skilled technician, Ben throws himself into work and is gifted at repairing animatronics when need be. He usually uses humor to ease a situation but is very capable of sobering up when his life is on the line.

After being orphaned at a young age, Ben lived a typical, but undeniably lonely childhood. He eventually met Michael in college and they shared an apartment until William’s death, after which he moved with Michael to Hurricane and began working at Afton Robotics. He’s usually seen working in the back unless specifically asked out on a call with Michael or Lizzie.

Charlie Emily Johnson:

The daughter of Henry, William’s former business partner, and close friends with the Aftons, Charlie is an aspiring technician attending the college of St. George. Having most of her family either deceased or distanced has left Charlie as an independent but lonesome person, and she has become an adopted member into the Afton family because of it. Other than that, Charlie has a promising skill with robotics.

As children, Charlie and Lizzie played together frequently and even lived together for a short stent when William’s children were placed in Henry and his wife’s custody. Because of this, the two have become very close over the years, though not exactly in a sisterly sort of way. She is also close with Michael, who is protective of her.

Marion Afton:

The younger brother of Michael and Lizzie and the youngest of the Afton children. Unlike his siblings, Marion doesn’t work at Afton Robotics, but as an entertainer puppeteer at Foxy’s Pirate Cove. As the title would suggest, his primary role is to control the Puppet animatronic, which he is rather attached to. 

Marion was in a devastating accident as a child which literally and figuratively scarred him for life. While he survived with few lasting effects, this incident is what led him to not becoming a technician like his siblings. The only animatronic he regularly works on is his Puppet. He regularly visits the children’s ward at the nearby hospital to put on shows for the kids.

Jeremy Fitzgerald:

A former worker at Freddy’s. A sketchy history has left him with limited job offers, leading to him taking risks to keep himself afloat. Loneliness has led to similar risks as he’s ventured closer to animatronics than one would consider safe.

He and Michael have shown interest in each other and have began to spend time together outside of work.

More characters to come…

Stories:

Skin Deep: A technician is called out to deal with a malfunctioning animatronic and finds herself trapped in the middle of something much more insidious. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13487624/1/Skin-Deep

Running On Empty: Michael and Eggs have to deal with a Funtime Freddy whose been terrorizing a teenage girl, but will they be able to do so before she’s swallowed whole? https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13496230/1/Running-On-Empty

Lonely At The Bottom: Charlie and Michael find themselves in a delicate situation when they find a small Freddy that claims to be a human whose had his body stolen. Now the two must figure out both if he’s telling the truth, and if he is find some way to get his body back. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13535759/1/Lonely-At-The-Bottom

Takes My Breath Away: When a man comes into Afton Robotics with trouble breathing and a horrifying story, Michael and Benedict are forced to perform an animatronic retrieval unlike any they’ve done before… https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13585196/1/Takes-My-Breath-Away

Doll’s Eyes: A lone doll is stalking a woman relentlessly and Lizzie accepts Charlie's help in trying to figure out why. Neither are prepared for the night ahead or the answers they will find... https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13609335/1/Doll-s-Eyes

Coming Soon: Sweetest Tongue, Sharpest Tooth Brother’s Always Watching Pet The Bunny

[beastlyanachronism]

Fandom Ask Game

I was kindly tagged by @wolfiejimi for Star Trek TOS, so here goes

(I'll limit this to the series itself because the movie era is a whole other kettle of fish) My favourite female character: Nyota Uhura. There is a decided paucity of good female characters in TOS, but fortunately Uhura is there as a great example of a real "strong female character" – i.e. not a gun-slinging hard-hitting "hero" but a well-rounded person that balances competency with warmth. She always gives the impression of having an actual life beyond the framework of the events we see in the episodes. My favourite male character: Well, it has to be Spock. The idea of Star Trek without Spock is just inconceivable. (Although I don't like when people suggest that Spock is the main character of TOS. Kirk is 100% the main character.) I relate to his reserve and aspire to his stoicism, I suppose. My favourite book/season etc.: Season 3 gets an awful bad rep so I'm going to say Season 3 just to be contrary. It's the first one I encountered, it has many gems (no empath pun intended) and even at its worst, it's mostly enjoyable. Besides, half the fun of watching TOS is shouting "what???" at the screen at frequent intervals. My favourite episode (if it's a TV show): The Immunity Syndrome. Why? No guest stars! Just the crew of the Enterprise being protective of each other without interruption! And there's an amoeba in space aaaaah! My favourite cast member: DeForest Kelley. Every anecdote about him is so endearing. It seems he really was a true gent. My favourite ship: Well my mind says "spirk" and my heart says "spones", so I take a leaf out of Spock's book and use my intellect to bridge my two warring halves, leaving me with the galaxy-brained answer, mcspirk.

When we see them during TOS I don't think they're together yet, I just think Kirk has an attraction to Spock that he presumes is unreturnable. I like to think Kirk and Spock get together after Turnabout Intruder (maybe immediately after?) but it would take many years more before the Spock-McCoy relationship mellows enough for Bones to join the family.

I am somewhat loath to solve clashing ships with polyamory, but if there was ever a case where it would be realistically viable, mcspirk is it. Also, Bones is incapable of reaching fulfilment unless he gets a happy marriage, and no-one is good enough for him except S and K. I love the platonic triumvirate friendship, but mcspirk is endgame in my opinion. A character I'd die defending: Hmm. I suppose this would be Bones. When I watch the show, he annoys me sometimes, but fanon explores the depths of his character and motivations, showing that he is really a cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure. He's so vulnerable to hurt and despair, he must be protected at all costs. A character I just can't sympathise with: Gary Mitchell. In Where No Man Has Gone Before, I think that Kirk thinks "oh what a tragedy, my witty and talented friend just couldn't handle having godlike powers because no man can handle that level of responsibility". However, I think that Kirk had a blind spot regarding Mitchell, who was actually a manipulative, conniving narcissist even in their academy days.

I think this opinion is backed up by the script (he definitely had undue influence over Kirk if he nearly made him marry someone?). [Also, if you explore the idea that Kirk could be trans, and that Mitchell's "James R Kirk" gravestone was a deliberate jab at his deadname, it all fits together weirdly well.]

But I also admit that my dislike of Gary Mitchell stems largely from my naive jealousy, on behalf of Spock and Bones, that Jim ever had a real best friend before they came along.

A character I grew to love: Christine Chapel. When I first came across Trek through tumblr, I assumed that this beautiful lady in the background was just a typical 1960's dumb blonde background character, just there to look pretty and be in distress. I eventually realised I was totally wrong. The scenes where she seems to have got over her crush on Spock in a mature way (e.g. Plato's Stepchildren) and especially the scenes where she secretly tricks patients into being afraid of McCoy, unbeknownst to him, show her intelligence and depth.

My anti-OTP:

Kirk and the girl of the week. This is where Season 3 kind of lets itself down, because in most of Season 1 it's made quite clear that Kirk seeks to avoid involvement with women because his captaincy requires all his concentration. I don't mind when he flirts deliberately and cynically for an ulterior motive (e.g. Catspaw, Gamesters of Triskelion etc etc) or when he genuinely falls in love in a realistic way (Edith Keeler), but when he starts thinking he's in love with someone he just met, it's stupid and OOC. [I'm looking at you, Requiem for Methuselah...]

If you see this post and would like to do this for a fandom of your choice, feel free to say that I tagged you!

[ancientechos]

Arianna’s Never-ending Character Survey

Tagged by: no one tbh

Tagging: You!! Especially if you haven’t done it yet!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Arianna Rowen

NICKNAME: —

AGE: 24

BIRTHDAY: 14th Sun of the Second Astral Moon (February 14)

ETHNIC GROUP: Hyur Midlander

NATIONALITY: From a small village located outside of Eorzea.

LANGUAGE/S: Common, sign language

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: ???? /// Depends upon AU

HOME TOWN / AREA: Gridania

CURRENT HOME:  The Lavender Beds

PROFESSION: Herbalist, alchemist, adventurer, in that order.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Black, comes below her shoulders, slightly curly/wavy. Usually fashioned with a left-side part over her forehead. Bangs.

EYES: Green.

FACE: Oval.

LIPS: Somewhat thin, bites them often.

COMPLEXION: Pale.

BLEMISHES: None.

SCARS: Present.

TATTOOS: None.

HEIGHT: 5′3″

WEIGHT: 100 ponze

BUILD: Thin, reedy.

FEATURES: Somewhat curly hair, eyes of green.

ALLERGIES: None.

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Loose, bangs.

USUAL FACE LOOK: Plain, no makeup.

USUAL CLOTHING: Most frequently found in cloaks or robes, especially those with hoods. Favours dark or neutrally-coloured clothing.

VOICE CLAIM: Japanese -- Hayami Saori, especially her softer voices. Not sure for English voice yet.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Being useless, being deemed a failure, being considered pointless.

ASPIRATION/S: To mean something.

POSITIVE TRAITS: reserved, serious, polite, responsible, compassionate, imaginative, selfless, open-minded, observant, perceptive

NEGATIVE TRAITS: flighty, timid, escapist, uptight, pessimistic, paranoid, anxious, melancholic, impractical, self-conscious

TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic MBTI: INFP-T

SOUL TYPE/S: The Artisan, The Scholar

ANIMALS: Anything avian, especially ravens and crows.

VICE HABIT/S: Takes too many things personally, disassociates, dislikes conflict and shuts down in the face of it

FAITH: None.

GHOSTS?: She supposes if there are any, she can’t see them. She won’t say they don’t exist, though.

AFTERLIFE?: Why not?

REINCARNATION?: Yes. ALIENS?: She’s never really thought about that...

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Not especially interested in politics.

EDUCATION LEVEL: Taught herbalism and alchemy by her parents; also self-taught. Learnt conjury at the guild in Gridania.

FAMILY.

FATHER : An alchemist who temporarily visited Arianna’s mother’s village for the herbs that grew near it. He ended up staying permanently. Earnest and hardworking, he greatly prided himself in his intelligence and being useful.

MOTHER : A deaf woman who served her village as an herbalist. Polite and kind, communicated with others via writing or sign language. Well-known and well-liked, she was instrumental in making her future husband feel comfortable in the village. Not shy in the slightest.

SIBLINGS : None

EXTENDED FAMILY: None

NAME MEANING/S: Arianna - “chaste, very holy”; Rowen - “red”

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None...?

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Some kind of romance novel, probably.

DEITY: Llymlaen.

HOLIDAY: Heavensturn.

MONTH:  The last month of the year.

SEASON: Autumn.

PLACE: Her mind.

WEATHER: A lightly breezy, warm day.

SOUND / S: The wind, pen on paper, pages turning, the bubbling of alchemical equipment

SCENT / S: Herbs, chocolate, fire

TASTE / S: Richly flavoured foods, dark chocolate, warm tea

FEEL / S: Parchment, soft clothes, leaves

ANIMAL / S: Birds.

NUMBER: Does she need a favourite number? She supposes five.

COLORS: Red

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Herbalism, alchemy, writing, people watching

BAD AT: Facing problems directly, physical labour, public speaking

TURN ONS: Patience, intelligence, confidence, persistence

TURN OFFS: Vulgarity, slovenly behaviour, foolishness, argumentative

HOBBIES: Reading, writing, daydreaming

TROPES: The Chosen One, Bookworm, Mr. Imagination, Sarcasm-Blind, Elective Mute, Shrinking Violet, Situational Sociability, Healing Hands, Caring Gardener, Alchemy Is Magic

QUOTES : “...”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?       A1: I guess it’d be some kind of psychological study.

Q2: What would their soundtrack/score sound like?           A2: Melancholic, some orchestral, hopeful at the end. Q3:  Why did you start writing this character?         A3: Because SE gave me Hades x Persephone on a silver platter.

Q4: What first attracted you to this character?         A4: Her passion for writing.

Q5: Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5: How much of an escapist she is. Q6: What do you have in common with your muse?           A6: We both like writing.

Q7: How does your muse feel about you?         A7: Hmm. I guess she’d probably avoid me. But she avoids almost everyone. Q8: What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?       A8: She begins teaching Alphinaud, Y’shtola, Papalymo, and Yda sign language! Though Yda doesn’t seem to have the patience for it. Lyse is strangely good at it. Q9: What gives you inspiration to write your muse?     A9: Same as most of my muses, music.

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete?   A10 : Too long  tbh.

[schroedingersk8]

First of all I want to thank you for this beautiful and interesting blog you have. I can imagine you have many requests for dating you. How do you know which one is sincere with you and worthy?

Answering as Miss K8 Morgan, of K8Morgan.com 

Hello, and thank you very much for reading and enjoying this interesting blog of mine! :) And my Twitter, too! And thank you for giving me this opportunity to #dommesplain a few things to my kind followers and readers… 

But back to your question, out of the many requests for dating that I get, how do I know which one is sincere with me and worthy?

Well, it is a good question, but I would expand the categories in it further. How do I know those requests are 

sincere, 

realistic, 

acceptable, and 

worthy. 

For better understanding of the selection process, let’s take a closer look at each category individually, and examine them in detail, shall we?

1. Sincerity 

I have this saying, “no one is more sincere than a man firm in his delusions.” This is ever-so-applicable to each and every stranger from the Internet who has ever written to me with an inquiry to date me… And even to some guys making such inquiries after meeting me a few times, here and there. What can I say, I believe that all of them are most sincere in their desires to date me, or someone like me, or the “me” they imagine – and even more sincere in using their offer to date me as a means to avoid paying my session or social fees. Sincerity is not a problem here, Delusion – or lack of realism – is! 

2. Realism

So how do I know when somebody is being realistic? I suppose in the same way you, or anyone else would know. It just requires some common sense. For example, no realistic message has ever started with, or included, the following:

“Hello, Mistress, I am a real no-limits slave. I will do anything you want [except booking a session and actually paying me for my time] but I think pro dommes only do things for money, but I am looking for someone to dominate me for free as part of a FemaleLed relationship” To this particular kind of drivel you can also add things like “…but I am still a virgin”, “…but I am still married” “…but I have never seen a Mistress before” and a plethora of similar verbal identifiers. 

“… I have an excellent life, career and social circle here in the [insert any US city] and am able to provide you with a life in which you wouldn’t have to work.” This particular statement is more common than you think, and is ALWAYS US-based. Somehow they seem to believe that we, here in Europe, suffer greatly from our free health care, non-GM, locally grown wholesome food, the quaint culture and history of our countries, the public transport and rights to privacy protection. And it implies that because the author of it is so “overwhelmingly generous” – with his words – I am going to drop everything: my job, my family, my life, my friends, sell my cats to the Circus, and move to the US, to be his…mail-order pet-bride??? Someone with no job, no independence, no voting rights and with a precarious immigration status. To be bored to injuries, until death do us part? NO THANKS!   

“…I am not rich and do not have a fancy car, a palace for a house and travelling for me more often includes a backpack and a tent – I appreciate simple things in life…” Say no more, bro! I, myself, appreciate finer things in life, the finer the better, and the only way you would see me with a backpack in a national park is if some psycho has killed me, stuffed me into that backpack and is carrying me to bury me in a shallow grave there. I like fancy cars, I like rare timepieces, I enjoy luxury travel, fine dining, fine wine, fine arts… As a matter of fact, I unapologetically love all things fanciful and complicated, and am not looking to change that any time soon.

“…and I probably do not make enough to have you as a GF, but I thought I’d try anyway.” Mate, I wish you didn’t. I hear your pain, I myself do not have enough to buy me a Lamborghini Aventador S. Not even a stinky Murcielago… And every morning I wake up, and I come to terms with this harsh, cruel, unfair reality. But never once have I written to a dealership to try to get one anyway! Luckily, you can still book a session to enjoy me for a limited amount of time, and I can still go to the dealership and stare to my heart’s delight…

“…I do not believe in having to pay to date…” What are you doing writing to me, then??? You might as well try and tell me that you believe Jesus loves me, and that Earth is flat… Keep your beliefs to yourself, mate, no one here has asked to hear them – or I swear to Jesus that loves me I will bring out my pie chart again!

These are some of the most common examples of my dating wannabes, but that list is truly endless and ever-growing. But what would, then, a realistic approach entail? I would say a situational self-evaluation study: what you do, where you live, how much free time and disposable income you have, how much of it are you willing to spend on dating, if we live in different cities how often can you travel, and how often you’d need me to travel, what you’d ideally like to achieve with this relationship, when you’d like it to start, and whether you prefer it as a permanent or a fixed term contract. There, no rocket science, is it?

3. Acceptability

But what, then, would be the acceptable terms for me to favorably consider an offer? I think the main factors would have to be:

geographical compatibility, 

time strain, and 

relationship goals. 

It is not a secret that I am in my mid-30es, so I am old, lazy, and by now I have visited most places I had an interest in. I no longer get excited about having to take a trans-Atlantic flight to see someone for a date because “we are going to see DisneyWorld!!!!!”. I stopped being excited about it some…20 years ago. 

There are only two places in the US I am interested in, one is New England – in autumn or in winter, and another is Portland, OR in spring/summer. Part of my education took place in New England (I do not specify where for privacy reasons, so do not ask), and I have spent some time in Oregon in later years, too, both those are two places very dear to my heart. The rest of the US: seen, done, not much interest to revisit. And very little interest to return to live in the US at this point in my life. 

Same goes for SE Asia and Middle East. Would consider visiting, would not consider moving. Would not consider having to take 4 connecting flights to reach the final destination. Would not consider getting stoned to death for being your house guest. 

If frequent travel is required on my part, then it will have to be somewhere within a 3hr flight radius from Paris. I do have my pet peeve places, i.e. London. If you are someone who has tried to get me to come to London for a tour before, you’d be familiar with my “not enough money in the world to make me suffer through that indignity!” rant. I have lived there for too long, as one can tell, and I only visit when I absolutely must, as in, for legal obligations, deaths or weddings. I am somewhat more ok with Edinburgh.

I do have my “preferred” list, too! This year it features Stockholm (love that northern gem and the Swedish boys!), Zurich, Frankfurt, Vienna, Salzburg, Paris and most of France (once the strikes are over!), and I would love to discover Tunisia, Morocco and Israel (as I have heard very good things), but I am open to suggestions as long as there are direct flights. 

As for time restraints, then really anything above cumulative 2 weeks per month is unreasonable. I want my space, and I want my time. You should want yours! If you want to have an overly-attached live-in GF – look elsewhere. I am all for fun and intense time together inter-twinned with time dedicated solely to work. A “weekend relationship” would work very well for me, for example.

And when it comes to relationship goals, I understand that these change with time. And I think a relationship with me would be good for someone single, successful and busy with his own professional life, who wants to enjoy some time with kinky stimulating company without having to buy into societal pre-sets. However, if the end goal is to get married and have 3 kids – once again, I am not the Droid you are looking for.

I would say I am an ideal life companion for a social renegade and adventurer whose end goal is the same as his intermediate aspirations – joy, stimulating fun and absolution from boredom and trivia. I will be wasted on others… 

4. Worthiness of the Offer. 

And how, then, do I decide if the offer is worth it? Well, this subject is reminiscent of my earlier post, 15. Let Me Draw You A Pie Chart, and the arising Mathematical solutions. As with any relationship, I expect to be better off with it than without it. The offer will have to consider the amount of travel necessary, the cost of it, and the cost of my time. But overall, I would say, for a successful candidate with an interesting offer, the cost of weekend-dating me, per month, for 3 weekends, one of them long, would more or less be the cost of booking a long weekend Private Tour with me at my work rate. Which may seem like a steal and it is certainly a bargain in relative terms, but it is an eye-watering amount of money, for most people, and it is definitely not available to just anyone. 

As the matters stand, tomorrow will be the first time in a year that I have agreed to hear out an offer from an existing client, and I do not know whether or not we will be able to reach a consensus on terms. Alas, such is #DommeLife 

No one, under the penalty of the EU copyright laws, is allowed to use or reproduce my blog or individual posts, or even passages, in any way, shape or form, be it for Netflix series, Amazon books, or anything of the kind, regardless of the credit given. If you have any questions, you may contact me via K8Morgan.com

[winduphaurchefant]

REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY » Reese Farouel

RULES.  Repost, don’t reblog! Tag 10! Good luck!

TAGGED BY. @to-the-voiceless

TAGGING. @fivebrights and anyone else who wants to do it since the rest of flowr has been tagged

BASICS.

FULL  NAME : Charalise Farouel

NICKNAME : Reese, which she uses instead of her actual first name. It stuck.

AGE : 28

BIRTHDAY : 28th day of the 6th umbral moon (12/28)

ETHNIC  GROUP : Elezen / Wildwood and Duskwight parentage

NATIONALITY : Sharlayan

LANGUAGE / S : Eorzean Common, Sharlayan, and bits of some niche languages.

ORIENTATION : Bi (is inexperienced with the concept of polyamory but might be willing to try if it comes up)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS : In flowrverse (our fc where we are All wol)) she’s most likely taken by Haurchefant because there’s absolutely no fucking way he’d die on her watch. In-game universe is less concrete, her self esteem is quite low so she doesn’t actively seek relationships but she’s prone to getting crushes easily; Urianger being one of them.

HOME  TOWN / AREA : The Sharlayan Colony, Dravania

CURRENT HOME : A small cottage on the very fringes of the Lavender Beds. Also technically Fortemps manor and her room in the Pendants.

PROFESSION : Scholar (in the literal sense), Adventurer, and Warrior of Light 

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Café au lait blonde. She used to have it quite long, reaching past her hips, not styled in any specific way but brushed at least. After the Seventh Umbral Calamity she’s kept it quite short for practical purposes and usually hacks away at it herself, much to her friend Lunya’s chagrin.

EYES : Almond shaped eyes of deep blue with a halo of gold around the pupil, accentuated by her thick brows which are uncommon for most Elezen.

FACE : An oval shaped face with a tall, straight nose. Not overly animated in her expressions since the calamity.

LIPS : Has somewhat pouty lips and a bad habit of lip biting

COMPLEXION : Fair skin that freckles easily, she has the ability to tan but makes sure to apply salves to her skin before leaving for areas with more intense sunlight. Lots of moles, with a few noticeable ones on her face.

BLEMISHES : None that are noticeable 

SCARS : A Lot. She has a very prominent scar across her back which she usually likes to cover up.

TATTOOS : None. She enjoys seeing other people’s tattoos but wouldn’t get one for herself, she hates feeling stuck with something.

HEIGHT : Average height for an Elezen at around 6′3″

WEIGHT : 180 lbs give or take, most of it is muscle

BUILD : Tall and lean, quite muscular but not very toned. Her muscles were built more for purpose and less for show, like a power lifter. She could probably roundhouse kick someones head clean off. Pear shaped.

FEATURES : Her prominent brows and two moles beside her right eye

ALLERGIES : No known allergies, but she can get sick very easily.

USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  When it was long she usually just wore it down and free flowing, she does the same with her short hair although it doesn’t flow as much.

USUAL  FACE  LOOK : Her expression is usually quite stoic with a hint of Very Tired to spice things up. Is known frequently to come down with a case of RBF

USUAL  CLOTHING : Loose tunics and some fitted trousers and boots when she’s sitting around researching or not doing much, she’ll just pile on armour as needed. Starts to wear things that are a bit more form fitting or aesthetically pleasing as she becomes more comfortable with herself.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Heights, being trapped, death, death of loved ones, failure, being abandoned, and... spiders

ASPIRATION / S :  To just be... content. Surrounded by people she loves and who earnestly love her in return.

POSITIVE  TRAITS : Empathetic, resilient, compassionate, she is the unstoppable force and the immovable object.

NEGATIVE  TRAITS : She is the unstoppable force and the immovable object. Tends to bottle her feelings and has a hard time trusting people. Self-sacrificing. Low self worth.

MBTI : INFP-T (Mediator) 

ZODIAC : Althyk (Capricorn)

TEMPERAMENT : Cross between phlegmatic and melancholic

SOUL  TYPE / S : Server

ANIMALS : Dire wolf, lioness, sparrow

VICE HABIT / S: Prone to bouts of just... lying there. Doesn’t sleep very well so she ends up half finishing a lot of things.

FAITH : Unsure

GHOSTS ? : Yes.

AFTERLIFE ? : Possibly

REINCARNATION ? : Possibly

ALIENS ? : Anything’s possible!

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : She really doesn’t like thinking about politics after being absolutely smothered by The Bibliothecs. Very left leaning

EDUCATION  LEVEL : Received a proper education at the Studium in Old Sharlayan, sponsored by a certain Archon. Her interests were too varied to become an Archon and was constantly belittled for her niche areas of study. If she only applied herself...

FAMILY.

FATHER : Barnimonchet Farouel. (Status Unknown)  Archon Barnimonchet was the foremost expert on aetherytes and aetherical travel. Having led repairs to multiple aetheryte systems across Eorzea and a member of the Antitower excursion team, he drifted (literally) quite frequently between the Studium and the colony. Despite his meek nature and tendency to ramble, there is no doubting that he was worthy of the title of Archon.

MOTHER : Nenne Farouel née Phillone (Status Unknown) Archon Nenne was a master in the studies of all things alchemical, including potions, crystal structures, and inks for grimoires and tomes. Her preferred area of study was researching ways to better the body and mind, noting the aetherical compositions of different beings and brewing revitalizing concotions; especially her recent invention which coined the term "Craftman's Tea", creating the recipe as a way to help her husband in his work. She often found herself in the Arboretum gathering ingredients and helping out her fellows tasked with groundskeeping, scolding tones of "Barn!" could be frequently heard echoing through the Telmatology quarter as her husband and formerly mentioned Archon fumbled his way through the vined walkways to visit her.

SIBLINGS : None

EXTENDED  FAMILY : No knowledge of extended blood family. The closest she had to a parental figure was Archon Louisoix who had originally offered to babysit her as a babe when her parents left on orders to study an aetherical disturbance, after which they disappeared. He took on the role as a surrogate parent for her, having no trust in Sharlayan’s current care system. Takes on an older sibling role with the younger scions.

NAME MEANING / S : I named her Reese Peepo because I like Reese’s Pieces and the peepo video was popular at the time. Charalise is a nonsense name I gave her to fit in with why she’s Reese. 

HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ?: none

FAVORITES.

BOOK : She loves history books with any knowledge predating the fourth astral era, and has been known to read the occasional romance novel when no one is looking. Has grown to hate learning about anything Allagan.

DEITY : No specific deity

HOLIDAY : Starlight Celebration

MONTH : October (Fifth umbral moon)

SEASON :  Fall/Winter

PLACE : Urth’s Gift

WEATHER : Rain

SOUND / S: Wind blowing through the trees, crackling of firewood, morning bird calls, the cello

SCENT / S :  Clean laundry, freshly baked goods, flowers, cut grass

TASTE / S :  Savoury, warm spices, nothing too sweet

FEEL / S : Heavy blankets, smooth crystal, soft leaves

ANIMAL / S : All

NUMBER : none

COLORS : Earthy colours and the blue of the ocean on a clear day

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Gardening, sword fighting, art, singing (she usually does it by herself), healing magic

BAD  AT : Staying level headed, opening up, decorating, fashion

TURN  ONS : Honesty, good sense of humour, kindness

TURN  OFFS : Cruelty, making fun of her interests, being ignored, arrogance

HOBBIES : Researching lost civilizations, anything creative, cooking

TROPES : Rage Breaking Point, It Sucks to Be the Chosen One, Big Fucking Sword, Adorkable, Conveniently an Orphan, Friend to All Living Things, Broken Hero,  I Just Want to Be Loved, Badass Bookworm

QUOTES : 

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1 : Probably a LOTR-esque high fantasy adventure movie

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 : Lots of cello and choir pieces

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?          

A3 : She’s basically my self insert but with a little extra Oomph

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character?          

A4 :  She’s basically my self insert

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : She’s not very expressive, she’s not used to being super goofy or anything which I am

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6 : Lots

Q7 : How does your muse feel about you?          

A7 : Probably pretty chill, would probably go and get pizza together

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?        

A8 : Haurchefant intentionally or unintentionally tends to break her stony facade with his ceaseless flirting and a barrage of compliments which usually ends up with Reese either cracking a little smile or turning beet red and abruptly leaving the room. He brings out the morosexual in her. She instantly becomes brighter than the sun when she’s around anyone far younger than her, switching to a more motherly persona. Alphinaud and Alisaie receive the brunt of her affections before Ryne comes along. Neither will admit to the fact they both actually enjoy it.

Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse?        

A9 : Honestly       listening to LOZ music since she’s basically Link but a little bit to the left

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete?          

A10 : F.....four days

[letterboxd]

The Missing Linklater.

“Any time I’m on a set with Rick I feel very fortunate.” We talk to the writers behind Richard Linklater’s new missing-person feature film, Where’d You Go, Bernadette?

An adaptation of Maria Semple’s 2012 comedic novel about a reclusive architect who goes missing just before a family trip to Antarctica, Where’d You Go, Bernadette? stars Cate Blanchett in the title role. Bernadette’s daughter Bee (Emma Nelson) sets out on a quest to find her, with Bernadette’s husband Elgie (Billy Crudup). Laurence Fishburne, Judy Greer and Kristen Wiig also star.

Directed by American filmmaking icon (and co-founder of the Austin Film Society) Richard Linklater, the screenplay was co-written with his frequent collaborators (and married couple) Holly Gent Palmo and Vincent Palmo Jr. If their names are not familiar as scriptwriters, that’s because they usually work further behind the scenes for Linklater, and have been since 1993’s Dazed and Confused, when Holly was a production coordinator, and Vince a second second assistant director.

Vince became Linklater’s first AD for the films Bad News Bears, Fast Food Nation, A Scanner Darkly, Before Midnight, Boyhood, Last Flag Flying and Where’d You Go, Bernadette?. Holly co-produced Linklater’s Me and Orson Welles (2008), which she also wrote with Vince.

Reviewing Where’d You Go, Bernadette? on Letterboxd, Tom suggests that after a “generic” opening, the film “slowly starts to show its true colors as the character of Bernadette is unwrapped… it’s a story that is touching and even a bit inspiring for those who aspire to be their own artist in life.” J Oled agrees: “This could’ve been a Hallmark special, but because Linklater generally loves humanity, and is always experimenting, this film is quite watchable, it’s warm, relatable, and modest, and I wasn’t asking for much else.” Melissa, who has read the novel, offers: “If you’re a fan of the book… the movie is starkly different. But if you’re a fan of Linklater… you’re going to love it. Cate Blanchett may be the best actor of the decade.”

We spoke to Holly Gent Palmo and Vincent Palmo Jr. about their collaborative writing process with Linklater, mining their own relationship for inspiration, and making films for the social-media age.

Cate Blanchett as Bernadette and Emma Nelson as Bee.

How you were brought onto the project? Holly Gent Palmo: We have worked with Rick [Linklater] for many years. We first met on Dazed and Confused, where we were on the crew, and we’ve worked on many projects with him. He’s one of our close friends. He was brought onto the project and then we read the book and loved it so he brought us on. We started from scratch, it was all based on the novel.

What did you relate to in the book that made you feel you had the right perspective to take it on? HGP: This is a movie that for me personally is very relatable because it’s about a woman who has really lost herself in motherhood and as much as she loves that journey, she’s also really looking to rediscover her passion of her past creative impulses. I think that’s something that Rick, Vince, and I all can relate to, not only as parents, but also as people trying to do something creative in this world.

Was the book’s author Maria Semple involved at all? HGP: First of all, the novel is fantastic.

Vincent Palmo Jr: Love the book, love the book.

HGP: Maria knows so much about the filmmaking process and has that history herself that she knew that she wanted to hand it off to Rick. She talked to Cate and she talked to Rick but she did not take part in the writing.

Richard Linklater seems like a great writer to collaborate with. What is it about him that makes that operate so well? HGP: With Rick, the way we work is that we talk a lot in the beginning and clearly discuss every aspect of the book. This one was particularly challenging in that it was a modern epistolary novel told in emails and transcripts. It’s not a straight narrative and it’s not told in a linear fashion, necessarily. So we had to sort out the chronology of our story and what would be included.

Screenwriters Holly Gent Palmo and Vincent Palmo Jr. / Photo: Wilson Webb/Annapurna Pictures

It’s the way he works with actors and everyone. It’s a really respectful, really collaborative process where everybody gets to bring to the table their own personal point of view in their own lives. With Rick, we dove into the parts of the novel we liked best and what threads we were going to pick up and carry through.

VP: It was a pretty deep exploration of the novel, of all the different characters and situations. We talked through all that and came to an agreement between the three of us for what we felt said the themes best.

Vincent, you’re also Linklater’s first assistant director, which is an interesting combination of multi-tasking. On set, would you pitch in on the script-side? VP: No, on set as a first AD I’m more concerned about the day’s work and really having everything in place and ready to go so Rick just has to say “action” and “cut”. I don’t talk at all about the script. At that point we’re all dialed in anyway.

When Holly’s around they have their conferences and I’ll be arranging the next set up. I’ve done a lot of things with Rick. I did all twelve years of Boyhood. There’s a shorthand there that I’m intent and focused on each day’s shoot and what’s coming up the next day.

HGP: By the time Rick gets to set, he’s totally prepared and ready. He has his rehearsal process with his actors. Our process is over, he’s very sure of what he wants.

VP: You can’t over-prepare, but we’re very prepared.

HGP: Except maybe in a rare instance in having to negotiate some small change.

VP: Yeah, like in what the weather’s brought or something new at a location, things like that.

Boyhood and Before Midnight are both classics of their decade now. What were those sets like? VP: I’m so happy for Rick [that they’re highly regarded]. Boyhood just stretched on. I remember there were times where we were like, “is somebody in Eastern Europe doing the same thing and it’s going to come out before us?!” We really didn’t know.

To pick it up each year and shoot it on film when all that kind of change [to digital] was in the midst of us shooting… Any time I’m on a set with Rick I feel very fortunate. To see them received in the way they were, it’s really thrilling.

Emma Nelson and Billy Crudup in ‘Where’d You Go, Bernadette?’.

In what ways, if any, did you adapt your style to the talents of Cate Blanchett and the other cast members? HGP: We knew that Cate was interested from the moment that we began. We were always hoping to do justice to her great talent and thinking towards that. To me, there could be no-one better in that role. Cate brings so much to it.

It’s an inspiration to think that no matter what kind of nuanced emotion we write in a scene, she can carry it and do an incredible job. It gives a freedom of inspiration thinking that there’s a possibility that Cate Blanchett can be playing the part.

The book is largely renowned for the way it captures the nuances of Seattle. What types of research did you do for the characters’ occupations and their environments? HGP: Rick did a lot of interesting, in-depth research for Elgie’s technology role and the kind of things he was developing. He talked to a lot of people involved in Microsoft developing those sorts of things, to bring that in the most detailed and up-to-date way.

For architecture, Rick arranged some meetings with some really great architects to go and talk to them about the language they use. As far as Seattle goes, there’s no greater resource for that than the novel itself. Maria really knows that world and has so many funny and interesting outsider opinions about it that I felt it was the perfect way to learn about that.

What did you feel you could bring to the element of marriage when writing as a married couple? HGP: That’s interesting.

VP: That is interesting. Well, we’ve been married for 26 years.

HGP: I do think that all three of us brought in our past relationships and our current relationships to the process. I believe it’s a realistic portrayal of the quest to keep improving your life through self-discovery. It’s a unique story that you don’t really see a lot of.

That whole idea that you can’t ever really know anyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try—Rick really loved those words, they’re the opening words of the novel. It’s this idea that the other person is always somewhat unknowable, but you keep trying to get to know each other while you change through the years.

VP: The search continues! You find new things.

HGP: Nothing is more rewarding in life than those close relationships that last decades.

Richard Linklater, Emma Nelson, Cate Blanchett and Billy Crudup at a New York screening earlier this month. / Photo: Evan Agostini/Invision/AP

Do you think it’s difficult to write contemporary films for the social-media age? HGP: It’s fascinating when you see movies and there’s this before-and-after cell phones dividing line, because so many of the great films and their plots would have been so different if everyone was carrying a phone around.

I don’t know if it’s easier, but it is a change in your way of thinking as you realize everyone has a phone in their pocket. I think both [period and contemporary] are fun. Any kind of story or plot that you’re trying to figure out is a really fun and challenging puzzle. I notice in a lot of films they try and get rid of the phone in some way.

What was the film that got you into filmmaking and made you want to be a part of this industry? VP: Oh my gosh, wow. Jeez, that’s a really tough one.

HGP: There’s so many stages to it. There’s the ones you see when you’re a little kid that just blow you over. Those are so bound with light and emotion that you don’t even understand. I remember Apocalypse Now—that was something that blew my mind.

VP: It just kind of builds. I got a degree in journalism and then I ended up working in film so it’s hard to point to just one that really flipped the switch. I don’t know why, but I saw The Sound of Music a bunch of times when I was younger. Maybe it was just easier for my mom to take me and my four siblings out to see it.

‘Where’d You Go, Bernadette?’ is in select US cinemas now.