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azsazz · 2 years ago

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Bloody Knuckles and the Songs of Death (Part 3)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is everything that Azriel is not. Opposite feelings but equal death in the end.

AKA: Half a rewrite of chapters 43-47 of ACOWAR where reader is now there as part of the Autumn Court, excited to meet Azriel. The other half are my own ideas.

Warnings: Major themes of death, ACOWAR spoilers, blood, gore, mentions of abuse, smut.

Word Count: 4,818

(Part One) (Part Two)

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Only Rhysand’s friends don’t seem surprised.

Tamlin’s eyes are a green flame, golden light flickering around him as his magic seeks to wrestle free from Rhysand’s control. As he tries and tries again to speak.

“If you want proof that we are not scheming with Hybern,” Rhysand says blandly, “Consider the fact that it would be far less time-consuming to slice into your minds and make you do my bidding.”

A flare of interest carves a hole in your mind.

Only Beron is stupid enough to scoff. Eris angles his body in his chair, not towards you, but to block the path of his mother.

“Yet here I am,” Rhysand continues, and you can’t take your eyes off of him, hanging on to every single one of his words. If you play nice with the Night Court would he be able to break into Beron’s mind and force your deal off?

The High Lord of Night doesn’t deign to give Beron a glance of acknowledgement. “Here we all are.”

Absolute stunning silence.

The Tarquin, silent and watchful, clears his throat.

Everyone waits for his words as he turns to Feyre, to Rhysand, “Despite Varian’s unsanctioned warning…” A glance at his cousin, who doesn’t so much as look sorry about it, “You were the only ones who came to help. The only ones. And yet you asked for nothing in return. Why?”

Rhy’s voice is a bit hoarse as he asks, testing the salty waters between Summer and Night, “Isn’t that what friends do?”

It’s a subtle, quiet offer.

Tarquin takes him in. Then Feyre. And the others. “I rescind the blood rubies. Let there be no debts between us.”

“Don’t expect Amren to return hers,” Cassian mutters. “She’s grown attached to it.”

You could swear that a smile tugs on Varian’s mouth.

But Rhys faces Tamlin, whose own mouth remains shut. His eyes are still livid. And Feyre’s mate says to him, “I believe you. That you will fight for Prythian.”

Kallias doesn’t appear so convinced. Neither does Helion.

Rhys loosens his grasp on Tamlin’s voice, the only give is the low hiss that slips from the High Lord of Spring. But Tamlin makes no move to attack, to even speak.

“War is upon us,” Rhysand declares. “I have no interest in wasting energy arguing amongst ourselves.”

The better man–male. His restraint, his choice of words…All of it a careful portrayal of reason and power. But Rhysand…you know he means what he says, you can sense it in a way you can sense all threats, not just the ones that result in death, although with war upon you all, it does hang heavy in the air.

But Beron says, “You may be inclined to believe him, Rhysand, but as someone who shares a border with his court, I am not so easily swayed.” He gives him a wry look. “Perhaps my errant son can clarify. Pray, where is he?”

Even Tamlin looks towards the Night Court, towards Feyre.

Your heart clenches at the thought and you dare not look at the son next to you. You know you won’t see a flash of emotion in Eris’ auburn eyes, he’s carefully mastered the art of schooling his features neutral, learning just how dangerous wearing his emotions on his face can be. Beron made sure of that.

“Helping to guard our city,” she answers simply. It’s not a lie, not entirely.

Eris instead snorts and surveys Nesta, who stares back at him with steel in her face. Oh how you know that he likes that. “Pity you didn’t bring the other sister. I hear our little brother’s mate is quite the beauty.”

It’s your turn to clamp your hand over his under the table and give him a squeeze of warning. Not even you would bait the Night Court during such an already tense meeting. Your friend is going to get himself into more trouble than he can handle, and even if you’re itching for a fight, you don’t want it to be against the only court that might have a chance of helping you get free.

Mor replies smoothly, “You still certainly like to hear yourself talk, Eris. Good to know some things don’t change over the centuries.”

Eris’ mouth curls into a smile at her words and your hand slips away from his. There is no going back now, not as his fiery gaze locks onto her chocolatey brown eyes, preparing to melt her.

The pair are good at pretending they haven’t seen each other in years, and Eris responds, “Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut.”

One moment, Azriel is seated across from you.

The next, he’s blasted through Eris’ shield with a flare of blue light, tackling him backwards, the wood of Eris’ chair shattering beneath them.

“Shit,” Cassian spits, and is instantly there–

Meeting a wall of blue.

Your heart aches in your chest, eager to move closer, to join in perhaps, to feel the blood pouring from Eris’ nose on your fingers, to lick away the remnants of crimson from Azriel’s split knuckles. You’re nearly vibrating in your seat with need, hands clamped around the arms of your chair so tightly your skin is stretched white over your bones, teeth grinding in your mouth.

You allow yourself a deep inhale of the heady scent of blood.

Azriel has sealed them in, and as his scarred hands wrap around Eris’ throat, Rhys says, “Enough.”

But Azriel’s hands only tighten, and you can feel the pinch of Eris’ breath being cut off underneath those marred hands, born from Death. Even though it’s your friend thrashing beneath the shadowsinger, you know that Death is nowhere near, but you can’t help but to want to crawl closer, watch how the Taker finishes the job, watch his shadows consume Eris; eyes as his body goes slack and his soul fades to black.

“Enough, Azriel,” Rhys orders. Perhaps the shadows that slide and eddy around him hide him from the wrath of the binding magic. No one else makes a move to interfere, as if wondering the same.

Azriel digs his knee–and all his weight–into Eris’ gut. He’s silent, utterly silent as he rips the air from Eris’ body. Beron’s flames strike the blue shield, over and over, but the fire skitters off and fizzles out on the water. Any that escape are torn to shreds by shadows.

“Call off your overgrown bat,” Beron orders Rhys.

The High Lord of Night is enjoying it, as you’re sure many of the people in this room are. But despite the bargain they’d made with Eris, he could have ended it seconds ago. Beron swings around in his seat, a warning in his eyes, a command for you to stop it, pure unadulterated fury in that molten amber gaze.

You swallow harshly at the sight. You know exactly what that look is, the underlying threat if you don’t stop this immediately.

Holding Beron’s gaze, at the same time Feyre stands, placing a hand on the hard, near-invisible curve of Azriel’s shield and says, “Come, Azriel,” You let your powers out.

Azriel stops.

You flood his mind with your presence, slipping past those well built barriers made from darkness and shadow. They part easily under your gentle caress, as if you are one of them and they can’t tell the difference, letting you pass like a wisp of wind.

He knows you’re in his mind, curling up against his walls and it sets his teeth on edge. But there’s something different about it, about how easy it is for you to overtake him, command his fingers to loosen from where they’re locked around Eris’ throat. The princling gasps for air as his scarred hands loosen and he feels like a prisoner in his body. He’s angry about it but you don’t seem to give off any threatening feelings, only calm ones.

Azriel’s gaze slips over yours as you relinquish control just long enough to let him look up at his High Lady, demanding his attention. In that single glance he really sees you for the first time. You can feel the cogs turning in his head as you slip away, releasing your powers on him completely.

Feyre offers him a hand. “Come sit beside me.”

You notice that her sister has already moved her seat, and an extra chair has appeared beside Feyre’s.

Azriel’s eyes slide back to Eris, the High Lord’s son panting beneath him. And the shadowsinger leans down to whisper something in his ear that makes Eris blanch further.

But the shield drops. The shadows lighten into sunshine.

Beron strikes–only for his fire to bounce off of a hard barrier of Feyre’s making. She lifts her gaze to the High Lord of Autumn and it’s all you can do not to roll your eyes at the hot-headed male’s antics. “That’s twice now we’ve handed you your asses. I’d think you’d be sick of the humiliation.”

Oh, you like her.

Helion laughs and you smother your smile, eyes flicking back to the shadowsinger. He’s already looking at you, gaze narrowed as he assesses you from where you sit next to Eris’ empty seat.

He takes Feyre’s still-offered hand and rises.

Mor opens her mouth to say something to Azriel, but Cassian puts a hand on her bare knee and shakes his head. Feyre leads the shadowsinger to the empty chair beside hers–then walks to the table to pour him a glass of wine.

No one speaks until she offers it to him and sits down.

His motions are too smooth, too calculated for the pure rage you’d felt in his mind. You watch closely as his rough hands hold the wineglass gently, waiting for the stem to snap in half.

“They are my family,” Feyre says at the raised brows she receives while waiting on him. Tamlin shakes his head in disgust and finally slides that claw back into his hand. Feyre meets Eris’ fuming gaze, her voice as cold as Azriel’s face as she says, “I don’t care if we are allies in this war. If you insult my friend again, I won’t stop him the next time.”

The look Azriel’s backs her up with makes your heart stumble and your powers urge to reach out again.

Only Eris knows how far their alliance goes. The one that he doesn’t think you know about, but it’s your job to know these things, even if this particular secret is one you’ve withheld from the current High Lord of Autumn.

Mor stares and stares at Azriel, who refuses to look at her, who refuses to do anything but give Eris his death-gaze.

Eris, wisely, averts his eyes. And says, “Apologies, Morrigan.”

Beron gawks at the words. But something like approval shines on the Lady of Autumn’s face as her eldest son settles himself once more.

When Azriel’s sure that the son of Autumn sitting next to you won’t look Mor’s way again, he turns those golden beams on you.

Thesean rubs his temples. “This does not bode well.”

Helion smirks at his retinue, crossing an ankle over a knee and flashing those powerful, sleek thighs. “Looks like you owe me ten gold marks.”

Helion waves a hand, and the stacks of papers Tamlin had compiled drift over to him on a phantom wind. With a snap of his fingers–scar-flecked from swordplay–other stacks appear before every chair in the room. Including your own. “Replicas,” he says without looking up as he leaves through the documents.

A handy trick–for a male whose trove is not in gold, but in knowledge.

Perhaps if the High Lord of Night wouldn’t hear you out, the High Lord of Day would. Maybe he’d be able to break the curse holding you to Beron’s side, though if he had possibly refused Tamlin’s request to free Feyre from her bargain so long ago, why would he help you?

You can feel Azriel’s eyes on you, so you turn to meet his flickering gaze. The wine glass has been set down, not a single drop missing from when Feyre had filled it up, as he thumbs the corner of the papers before him, like learning about you is suddenly more important than the impending war with Hybern.

A shadow so light it’s nearly invisible to the keen Fae eyes in the room curls around your ear as he scrapes against your walls with icy, death-dipped claws. You shudder. It feels good.

You raise your brow at him, daring him to continue, but he finally ducks his head and tucks into the paperwork before him.

“If all of this is true,” Helion clicks his tongue, and Tamlin snarls at the haughty tone, “Then I’d suggest two things: first, destroying Hybern’s cashes of faebane. We won’t last long if they’ve made them into so many versatile weapons. It’s worth the risk to destroy them.”

Kallias arches a brow. “How would you suggest we do that?”

“We’ll handle it,” Tarquin offers. Varian nods. “We own them for Adriata.”

Thesean says, “There is no need.”

Everyone blinks at him. Even Tamlin. The High Lord of Dawn just folds his hands in his lap. “A master tinkerer of mine has been waiting for the past several hours. I would like for her to now join us.”

Before anyone can reply, a High Fae female appears at the edge of the circle. She bows so quickly that you barely glimpse more than her light brown skin and long, silken black hair. She wears clothes similar to Thesean’s and yet–her sleeves have been rolled up to the forearms, the tunic unbuttoned to her chest. And her hand–

Her right hand is solid gold–mechanical. The way the youngest son of Autumn’s is. It clicks and whirrs quietly, drawing the eye of every immortal in the room as she faces her High Lord. Thesean smiles in warm welcome.

“My Lord,” she greets Thesean.

The High Lord of Dawn gestures to the female standing tall before the assembled group. “Nuan is one of my most skilled craftspeople.”

Rhys leans back in his seat, brows rising with recognition at the name, and jerks his head to Beron, to Eris. “You might know her as the person responsible for granting your…errant son, as you called him, the ability to use his left eye after Amarantha removed it.”

Nuan nods once in confirmation, her lips pressing into a thin line as she takes in Lucien’s family. She doesn’t so much as glance your way, her gaze skipping over yours, and she doesn’t even so much as turn in Tamlin’s direction. He certainly doesn’t bother to acknowledge her, regardless of the past binding them, their mutual friend.

“And what has this to do with the faebane?” Helion demands. Thesean’s lover seethes at the High Lord of Day’s tone, but one glance from Thesean has the male relaxing.

Nuan turns, her dark hair slipping over a shoulder as she studies Helion. She does not seem impressed and you bite back a snort. “Because I found a solution for it.”

Thesean waves a hand. “We heard rumors of faebane being used in this war–used in the attack on your city, Rhysand. We thought to look into the issue before it became a deadly weakness for all of us.” He nods to Nuan. “Beyond her unparalleled tinkering, she is a skilled alchemist.”

Nuan crosses her arms over her chest, the sun glinting off of her metal hand. “Thanks to the samples after the attack in Velaris, I was able to create an…antidote of sorts.”

“How did you get those samples?” Cassian demands.

A flush creeps over Nuan’s cheeks. “I–heard the rumors and assumed Lucien Vanserra would be residing there after…what happened.” She still doesn’t look at Tamlin, who remains silent and brooding. “I managed to contact him a few days ago–asked him to send samples. He did–and did not tell you,” she adds quickly to Rhysand, “because he did not want to raise your hopes. Not until I found a solution.”

You watch Feyre and Rhys exchange a glance, obviously unaware of the fox they’d let into their lands.

Nuan continues, “The Mother has provided us with everything we need on this earth. So it has been a matter of finding what, exactly, she gave us in Prythian to combat a material from Hybern capable of wiping out our powers.”

Helion shifts with impatience, that glistening, white fabric slipping over his muscled chest.

Thesean reads that impatience, too, and says, “Nuan has been able to quickly create a powder for us to ingest in drink, food, however you please. It grants immunity from the faebane. I already have workers in three of my cities manufacturing as much of it as possible to hand out to our unified armies.”

Even Rhys seems impressed at the stealth, the unveiling.

Tarquin asks, “But what of physical objects made from faebane? They possessed gauntlets at the battle to smash through shields.” He jerks his chin to Rhys. “And when they attacked your own city.”

“Against that,” Nuan says, “You only have your wits to protect you.” She doesn’t break Tarquin’s stare, and he straightens, as if surprised that she does so. “The compound I’ve made will only protect you–your powers–from being rendered void by the faebane. Perhaps if you are pierced with a weapon tipped in faebane, having the compound in your system will negate its impact.”

Quiet falls.

Beron says, “And we are supposed to trust you,”– a look at Thesean, then at Nuan–“with this…substance we’re to blindly ingest.”

“Would you rather face Hybern without any power?” Thesean demands. “My master alchemists and tinkerers are no fools.”

“No,” Beron says, frowning, “But where did she come from? Who are you?” The last bit is directed at Nuan.

“I am the daughter of two High Fae from Xian, who moved here to give their children a better life, if that is what you are demanding to know,” Nuan answers tightly.

Helion demands of Beron, “What does this have to do with anything?”

You couldn’t help but to agree with the Day King.

Beron shrugs. “If her family is from Xian–which I’ll have you remember fought for the Loyalists–then whose interests does she serve?”

Helion’s amber eyes flash.

Thesean cuts in sharply, “I will have you remember, Beron, that my own mother hailed from Xian. And a large majority of my court did as well. Be careful what you day.”

Before Beron can miss a retort, Nuan says to the Lord of Autumn, her chin high, “I am a child of Prythian. I was born here, on this land, as your sons were.”

Beron’s face darkens and you tense in your seat. “Watch your tone, girl.”

“She doesn’t have to watch anything,” Feyre cuts in, coming to her defense. “Not when you fling that sort of horseshit at her.” She turns to the alchemist. “I will take your antidote.”

Beron rolls his eyes.

But Eris says, “Father.”

Beron lifts a brow. “You have something to add?”

Eris doesn’t flinch, but he seems to choose his words very, very carefully. “I have seen the effects of faebane.” He nods towards the High Lady of Night. “It truly renders us unable to tap our power. If it’s wielded against us in war or beyond it–”

“If it is, we shall face it. I will not risk my people or family in testing out a theory.”

“It is no theory,” Nuan says, that mechanical hand clicking and whirring as it curls into a fist. “I would not stand here unless it had been proved without a doubt.”

A female of pride and hard work. Something you didn’t consider yourself to be.

Eris says, startling you, “I will take it.”

Even Mor blinks at his words.

Beron studies his son with a scrutiny that makes you itch. You’d often catch this look between them, a father examining his son as if trying to decide if he’s proud or that his son is worth less to him than the lower-tiered fae of his court.

Beron only says, “No, you will not. Though I’m sure your brothers will be sorry to hear it.”

Indeed, the others seem rather put-out that their first barrier to the throne isn’t about to risk his life in testing Nuan’s solution.

Rhys says simply, “Then don’t take it. I will. My entire court will, as will my armies.” He gives a thankful nod to Nuan.

Thesean does the same–in thanks and dismissal–and the master tinkerer bows once more before leaving.

“At least you have some armies to give it to,” Tamlin says mildly, breaking his roiling silence. A smile at Feyre. “Though perhaps that was part of the plan. Disable my force while your own swept in. Or was it just to see my people suffer?”

Those claws poke through his knuckles again. “Surely you knew that when you turned my forces on me, it would leave my people defenseless against Hybern.”

Feyre says nothing in return.

“You primed my court to fall,” Tamlin says with venomous quiet. “And it did. Those villages you wanted so badly to help rebuild? They’re nothing more than cinders now. And while you’ve been making antidotes and casting yourselves as saviors, I’ve been piecing together my forces–regaining their trust, their numbers. Trying to gather my people in the East–where Hybern has not yet marched.”

Nesta says drily, “So you won’t be taking the antidote, then.”

Tamlin ignores her, even as his claws sink into the arm of his chair.

Thesean clears his throat and says to Helion, “You said you had two suggestions based on the information you analyzed.”

Helion shrugs, the sun catching in the embroidered gold thread of his tunic. “Indeed, though it seems Tamlin is already ahead of me. The Spring Court must be evacuated.” His amber eyes dart between Tarquin and Beron. “Surely your northern neighbors will welcome them.”

Beron’s lip curls. “We do not have the resources for such a thing.”

“Right,” Viviane says, “Because everyone’s too busy polishing every jewel in that trove of yours.”

Beron throws her a glare that has Kallias tensing. “Wives were invited as a courtesy, not as consultants.”

Viviane’s sapphire eyes flare as if struck by lightning. “If this war goes poorly, we’ll be bleeding out right alongside you, so I think we damn well get a say in things.”

Damn straight.

“Hybern will do far worse things than kill you,” Beron counters coolly. “A young, pretty thing like you especially.”

Kallias’ snarl ripples the water in the reflection pool, echoed by Mor’s own growl.

Beron smiles a bit, the same smile he gives you when he pulls such a reaction from talking down to you. “Only three of us were present for the last war.” A nod to Rhys and Helion, whose faces darken. Your gaze slips to Azriel, but his level-minded gaze is focused on Beron. “One does not easily forget what Hybern and the Loyalists did to captured females in their war-camps. What they reserved for High Fae females who either fought for the humans or had families who did.” He puts a heavy hand on Amaretto's too-thin arm. “Her two sisters bought her time to run when Hybern’s forces ambushed their lands. The two ladies did not walk out of that war-camp again.”

Helion watches Beron closely, his stare simmering with reproach.

The Lady of the Autumn Court keeps her focus on the reflection pool. Any trace of color drains from her face.

“We will take your people,” Tarquin cuts in quietly to Tamlin. “Regardless of your involvement with Hybern…your people are innocent. There is plenty of room in my territory. We will take all of them, if need be.”

A curt nod is Tamlin’s only acknowledgement and gratitude.

Beron says, “So the Seasonal Courts are to become the charnel houses and hostels, while the Solar Courts remain pristine here in the North?”

“Hybern has focused its efforts on the southern half,” Rhys says. “To be close to the wall–and human lands.”

Feyre and Nesta exchange looks.

Rhys continues, “Why bother to go through the northern climes–through faerie territories on the continent, when you could claim the South and use it to go directly to the human lands of the continent?”

Thesean asks, “And you believe the human armies there will bow to Hybern?”

“Its queens sold us out,” Nesta says. She lifts her chin, poised as any emissary. “For the gift of immortality, the human queens will allow Hybern in to sweep away any resistance. They might very well hand over control of their armies to him.” Nesta looks at her sister, at Rhys. “Where do the humans on our island go? We cannot evacuate them to the continent, and with the wall intact…Many might rather risk waiting than cross over the wall anyway.”

“The fate of the humans below that wall,” Beron cuts in, and you know what will next fall from his mouth will not be good, tensing up in your seat alongside Eris. “Is none of our concern. Especially in a spit of land with no queen, no army.”

“It is my concern,” Feyre says. The voice that comes out of her is different, more sure, like how a High Lady’s should be. “Humans are nearly defenseless against our kind.”

“So go waste your own soldiers defending them,” Beron says dismissively. “I will not send my own forces to protect chattel.”

You watch closely as Feyre takes a breath, your own ire rising at his insolent words.

“You’re a coward,” she breathes to the High Lord of Autumn. Even Rhys tenses.

Beron only says, “The same could be claimed of you.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“No, but perhaps to that girl’s family–but they’re dead, too, aren’t they? Butchered and burned to death in their own beds. Funny, that you should now seek to defend humans when you were all too happy to offer them up to save yourself.”

“As my lady said,” Rhys drawls, “She does not need to explain herself to you.”

Beron leans back in his chair. “Then I suppose I don’t need to explain my motivations, either.”

Rhys lifts a brow. “Your staggering generosity aside, will you be joining our forces?”

Your stomach plummets at Beron’s answer.

“I have not yet decided.”

Eris goes so far as to give his father a look bordering on reproach. From genuine alarm or for what that refusal might mean for his alliance with the Night Court, you can’t tell.

“Armies take time to raise,” Cassian says. “You don’t have the luxury of sitting on your ass. You need to rally your soldiers now.”

Beron only sneers. “I don’t take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores.”

Feyre looks positively wild at his insult. Not only her, but the wrath on Casisan’s face and the icy rage on Azriel’s and Rhys’ is enough to get your blood stirring, excitement rushing through your veins at the prospect of a blood bath right before your very eyes.

If Beron is occupied trying to fight off the three stacked males of the Night Court, maybe you will be able to slip in with a few punches or kicks of your own.

And if they kill him, surely your bargain will break.

You already know that hateful bastards blood will taste like the finest of wines, and his death between the shadowsinger’s and your own will give you peaceful dreams for the next few centuries.

“That bastard,” Nesata says with utter coolness, though her eyes begin to burn, “May wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern’s forces and your people.”

She doesn’t so much as look at Cassian as she says it. But he stares at her–as if he’s never seen her before.

This argument is pointless.

Feyre says to Beron, “Get out if you’re not going to be helpful.”

At his side, Eris has the wits to actually look worried. But Beron continues to ignore his son’s pointed stare and hisses back, “Did you know that while your mate was warming Amarantha’s bed, most of our people were locked beneath that mountain?”

She doesn’t offer him a response.

“Did you know that while he had his head between her legs, most of us were fighting to keep our families from becoming the nightly entertainment?”

Cassian’s trembling two seats down from Feyre, who is looking sickly pale.

Rhys says nothing.

It’s Tarquin who murmurs, “That’s enough, Beron.”

Tarquin, who had guessed at Rhysand’s sacrifice, his motives.

Beron ignores him. “And now Rhysand wants to play hero. Amarantha’s Whore becomes Hybern’s Destroyer. But if it goes badly…” A cruel, cold smile. “Will he get on his knees for Hybern? Or just spread his–”

Fire explodes out of Feyre.

Raging, white-hot flame that blasts into Beron like a lance.

#Azriel #azriel/reader #azriel x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar rewrite #azsazz #acowar #acosf

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starryeridanus · 5 months ago

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About Me! New and Improved!

I'm Eris, a weird 20 YO transfem writing mostly about speculative biology, and occasional ventures into body horror. I use It/They pronouns! We also have a Discord for shenanigans!

Extra Details!

Right now, I'm working on Of Circuit and Sinew, a project centered around a sophont that is indistinguishable from machinery, but still a biological species.

In my free time, I generally enjoy weird little games like Hylics, Rain World, and generally any weird indie projects with a cool art style.

#of-circuit-and-sinew (or #saaor-project for older posts) can be used to find my worldbuilding.

#inferior-construct. is mostly my ramblings on AI, or just my angry grumblings about ChatGPT

#Thoughts of Strife #of circuit and sinew #worldbuilding #scifi #spec bio #xenobiology #writing #speculative biology #cosmic horror #biomechanical #hylics #rain world

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imsparky2002 · 1 year ago

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The Ghoul Squad - Meeting Marinette

2 years ago

(For most kids, the first day of your new school was nerve-wracking. Not for Marinette. She was positively dying to meet new people, to make some new friends, and to put a little scare into her new school. As she got ready for her first day, she cooed at her three spiders, Emma, Louis and Hugo. They were her wonderful children.)

Marinette: Momma will be back soon, my loves, don’t fret! Wish me luck, hopefully this year will go well!

(She hears them chittering sadly.)

Marinette: Oh, I suppose I can keep you hidden in my bag. But you better behave yourselves!

(She puts them in her bag and heads downstairs for breakfast. Her parents have prepared for her some charred toast and straight lemon juice.)

Xia Bing: I do hope you had bad dreams, darling.

Marinette: Absolutely horrible ones.

Tom: Are you excited for your first day of school? You’re practically trembling! I know you’ve been waiting to see Kim and Nino again!

Marinette: Now I don't just get to send chills down their spines during hangouts, I can do it every day at DuPont!

Xia Bing: Sounds lovely, darling! We do hope you have a fine time!

(As she walked to school, she decided to pull a little prank on her friends. She snuck up behind them, poked them on the neck, and disappeared as they turned around. Then she put two hands on their shoulders.)

Kim: AIEEEEE! (Seeing that it’s her) Jeez, Mari! Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?

(Mari giggles)

Marinette: Aw, only a heart attack?

Nino: Don't encourage her, Kim. (As classmates walk past them, Marinette gets mixed reactions. Some compliment her on her fashion, with two goth kids (Anthony and Eri) giving her thumbs up, others give her looks of disgust. Marinette looks unbothered.)

Kim: (To some kids giving her bad looks) Yo! You mess with my old pal Marinette, you're gonna regret it!

Nino: You know, dudette, I think you're gonna like this place. After all, I hear there's rumors of monsters watching over this place.

(Kim gulps. He HATES hearing about those rumors. He's scared of it.)

Kim: Dude! You KNOW that stuff freaks me out! Can we not talk about them?

(Marinette gets a wide grin. She's always into freaky things.)

Marinette: Oh, come on, Kim! Being scared is the best part! Tell me more, Nino! (Kim rolls his eyes, before gaining a wide grin as he spots his girlfriend!)

Kim: Whelp, you go on and tell her. I'm gonna hang out with someone who doesn't give me nightmares. (He runs off like a happy puppy to Ondine)

Nino: Well, let's just say this place has some spooks watching it. They're not evil though, since they coulda just taken it over already. We've never seen them, so technically it's "just a rumor" but dude, I'm telling ya it's true!

Marinette: (Smiles) How…fascinating! I do hope the stories are true. Imagine…real life monsters!

Mari: Go on.

Nino: Well, there's more than one. First off, I've seen scarabs crawling around the floors, piles of dust, and even had this really cute voice whispering in my ear when no-one else is around.

Nino: Then, Nathaniel says he's seen a purple bat hanging from the ceiling, with red glowing eyes. Then he found a room full of red mist, and swore he saw a pale girl with fangs complimenting him on his art.

(Mari smiles. Mummies and vampires? How marveously macarbe)

Marinette: (Grins) Classic signs of the presence of a vampire! What else?

Nino: Whelp, the next one has a name. It's a Phantom. Well, the new ghost. See, the Phantom of the Theatre's a DuPont legend, a ghost who protects the school, helps out the actors, and makes sure we're taking care of the auditorium. Seems that the old Phantom moved on or something, and his daughter's taken his place. Ivan's heard her voice, calling him a "Angel of Music" but she hasn't shown her face yet. She likes singing to kids in the mirror, or shooting fireballs at those who wish to harm the school. You'll tell she's near if you hear a pipe organ. I know how much you dig that stuff.

Marinette: How delightful! A protective spirit, this place just keeps sounding better! Are there any more?

Nino: A few more. Kim's been hearing the howls of a wolf a lot. He also sees yellow eyes staring at him in the dark.

(Marinette smiles. So she’s not the only one who enjoys spooking her old friend!)

Nino: Max hears mad laughter and finds tons of little gadgets around the school. He also sees these weird green patchy limbs crawling around, and sparks of electricity. Sabrina sees it sometimes, too, That is... whenever Chloe isn't breathing down her neck.

Marinette: (Glowers) Chloe Bourgeois? That brat who thinks she owns the world, just because of all her daddy’s money and influence?

Nino: Yep. But luckily, there's a monster that likes to deal with her. Based on what people say she looks like, it's a ghost, similar to those things from The Ring? She writes threatening messages to Chloe in the walls, crawls around, whispers in her ear, it's awesome.

Marinette: How wonderful! Sounds like my kind of specter!

Nino: Then there's Nath's boyfriend Marc. He and his class saw some witchy stuff. Anytime they're being bullied or the teacher does something stupid, they get hexed. They also smell potion ingredients and see three ladies flying away on broomsticks. There's a ton of cackling as well.

(This is Marinette's favorite. She's always wanted to be a witch!)

Marinette: Witches?! How marvelous! I’ve always wanted to learn the dark arts!

(Nino gives a "damn girl" smile)

Nino: Uh s-sure? Anyway, I get a feeling they're gonna like you. Hell, you'll probably scare them instead!

(She grins. As her and Nino walk to their first class, the Ghoul Squad have been eagerly watching their conversation from their hiding places with the help of their mothers' magic. Kagami is with them, since her mother allowed her to hang out.)

Alix: Dude, I love this chick! Way better than my human! I didn't think anyone hanging out with that meathead could be cool!

Rose Frankenteen: Can we talk to her? I want her to be our friend, she seems so nice!

Jubella: Of course, dear. Nathaniel is nice to vatch over and hang out vith, but he does not have zhe spooky spark zhat zhis one has!

Mylentasma: How should we make our approach! I feel like she’d like it if we spooked her!

Alynis: Call me crazy, but I'm not even sure if we could. She's clearly an expert.

Kagami: *Blushing* I believe we should wait until the time is right. I... I want it to be perfect, just for her.

(The other girls “Aww” in happiness.)

Winlix: If you love her, then you should do what My and Alya do! Be a coward and speak to them from the shadows!

(She giggles as Alynis and Mylentasma give her death glares)

Mylentasma: Very funny, Alix! I just want to make sure my Angel of music is ready before I present myself!

Alynis: And I need Nino to see the full power of the Pharaoh! (Jubella and Rose Frankenteen just recently started dating.)

Rose Frankenteen: I'm so happy me and Jules were able to share our feelings with each other.

(It was adorable. Both of them knew that the other definitely liked them, but they were both just so scared of saying it.)

Jubella: I’m just glad you felt the same vay! I adore you, my spark of life!

(Rose giggles as Jules gives her a loving bite on the neck, since she has no blood supply)

Jubella: Bleh bleh bleh! I vant to drain your vains!

Rose Frankensteen: Nooo! Save me from the cute vampire!

Winlix: Gross! Yuck!

Jubella: Call it payback for being a smartass, pup!

(Marinette's first day at school had been going splendidly in her eyes. She had discovered that those two alternative kids were named Eri and Anthony. They were a lot better than those needlessly edgy, gatekeepers at her old place. She may have loved gothic culture and fashion, but you didn't need to be a misery guts all the time.)

(She had also pulled off some great scares, some unintentional. It turned out that like Kim, more than a few kids were terrified of spiders, with some even fainting. Oh well, more fun for her.)

(It seemed as though Nino and Kim's buddies liked her well enough, saying she seemed nice even if she scared the hell out of them, which was what Marinette was going for. She felt it was nice having new friends, but made sure to keep them on their toes. Sabrina took a big liking to her as well, and she admitted it was nice to have a girl in the class who respected her.)

Chloe: Figures that a dummy like Le Chien and a loser like Lahiffe would hang around with a freak!

Marinette: I’m sorry, and you are?

(She knows who she is, she’s just being a little gremlin, trying to make Chloe mad)

Chloe: *Squawking* Chloe Bourgeois! Social influencer, daughter of the Mayor, and more popular and pretty than you'll ever be!

Marinette: Ah, yes. Do forgive me, your *majesty*!

(She bows in a mocking fashion)

Chloe: You should know better than to test me, Dupain-Cheng. I'm the alpha of this school, the queen bee! If you think you can steal Sabrina from me, you've got another thing coming!

Marinette: I haven’t stolen anyone. I’m merely showing Sabrina that she has the chance to make real friends who care about her.

Chloe: I gave you a warning, Dupain-Chang. Looks I'll just have to break you down.

(Chloe goes to grab the sketchbook, as she hears terrifying laughter. Six voices to be exact.)

(Ominous organ music plays as thunders cracks. Mylentasma appears before Chloe, with a face cloaked in terrifying shadows as her cape fluttered behind her.)

Mylentasma: I wouldn’t do that if I were you!

(Marinette gets the biggest grin on her face, as Mylentasma winks at her.)

(Chloe feels a bat whoosh behind her, turning into Jubella, who hisses at her, looming over the bully, with her cloak raised behind her head.)

Jubella: You have no power over zhese students, foolish girl.

(A roar is heard as Chloe turns to see Rose Frankenteen stomping towards her, arms out)

Rose Frankenteen: Graaaar! Mean girl back off, or ROSIE SMASH!

(Scarabs crawl around Chloe, as the creepy rotting mummy shambles to her, tilting her head.)

Alynis: Leave Marinette alone, mortal, or face a harrowing curse!

(The Ghoul Squad is so happy to finally find a human worthy of joining them!)

(Chloe jumps two feet in the air as Winlix lands behind her, snarling viciously)

Winlix: Stand down, or we’ll claw you to shreds!

(Mylentasma gives her a quick "too far, Alix" stare. Chloe feels her heart leave her chest as Kagami crawls behind her. She gives her a terrifying grin, showing her face.)

Kagami: Watch out, Chloe. You never know where we might be. We ghouls see eeeverrything.

(As she says that last part, she twists her head around)

Kagami: So play nice.

(Chloe shrieks and runs out of the room)

(Marinette blushes like crazy at the last girl. What a beautifully bonechilling ghost. The girls all rush in to hug her.)

Mylentasma: Are you okay? We’re sorry we couldn’t get here sooner! We wouldn’t want our new friend getting hurt!

Marinette: Okay? I'm positively trembling with joy! As you probably heard before, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My parents run the funeral home next to this school.

Alynis: Ooh, the Blissful Rest? We've heard of that place!

Marinette: Yes! I’ll be inheriting it when I get older.

Jubella: Vonderful, my dear.

Rose Frankenteen: We'll make sure to visit your parents. They're clearly right up our alley!

Marinette: They’d be delighted to meet you! They share the love for the morbid and frightening as myself!

(The monsters grin and begin introducing themselves.)

Jubella: I am Juleka. Mistress of zhe night. Do not vorry, for I only consume animal blood. It's simply fangtastic to be in your prescence.

Winlix: (panting happily) Sup, I’m Alix! Awesome to meet someone who likes creepy stuff as much of us! (Howls)

Rose Frankenteen: Name's Rose! And as you can tell, I'm no hulking brute. In fact, I'm an inventor of gadgets and gizmo's aplenty. Meeting you has brought a spark into our lives. (She cackles madly as Jubella kisses her.)

Mylentasma: (Bows dramatically) I am Mylene, the Phantom of the Theatre! Delighted to make your acquaintance!

(Marinette coos in delight as Alynis introduces herself)

Alynis: (raises her arms) And I am Alya, the mighty pharaoh! Bringer of doom and ruler of the sands!

Alynis: Lol, just kidding. I do rule the sands, but I'm no ruler. I do have a pretty cool blog though. (Finally, Kagami walks up to her new crush, being as romantic as possible. Marinette feels her heart beat like a drum.)

Marinette: H-hello. And you are? (Her cheeks are fire-engine red)

Kagami: Kagami. And may I say, you're the prettiest, most morbidly mesmerizing girl I've ever seen. I want to haunt you... *whispering in her ear* forever.... Marinette: Kagami... can you hug me? I want you to never let me go. (She does so, whispering spookily sweet nothings into her ear.)

Kagami: I understand this may be a bit forward….but would you like to go out sometime?

Marinette: Yes, my lovely ghost. Wanna head over to the cemetery with me after school? I'd just love to introduce you to my parents. (Kagami knows her mother will be mad at her, but screw her.)

Kagami: That sounds wonderful. (She snuggles Marinette happily)

Alynis: We heard that you love witchcraft! Our mothers are witches you know. Rose Frankenteen: But not our biological moms. None of us are related, so don't worry about me and Jules!

(Marinette giggles and jumps up and down.)

Marinette: Do you think they’d be willing to teach me?!

Kagami: Of course they would! In fact, we'll go there to induct you as the newest member of the Ghoul Squad. (Marinette gasps)

Marinette: But, I'm human! And I don't know any magic yet.

Mylentasma: That’s no matter! You’ve already got the *fright* stuff to be one of us!

Marinette: Well, if you say so, then it has to be true!

Mylentasma: And to show that I mean it.

(She dramatically takes off her mask, revealing her burned side of her face.)

Mylentasma: BEHOLD! Gaze upon my true visage!

Marinette: You look as beautifully bonechilling as ever.

(The Phantom smiles and hugs her.)

Mylentasma: I knew you would be so kind. To be truthful, I have no shame in this face, for I was born with it. It’s just… I feel that the mask gives me such a delightfully spooky and mysterious appearance.

Alynis: Same here. We’re born with bandages. We can take them off to show off our skin, but honestly it’s not as fun creeping people out when you’re just a naked corpse.

Winlix: Speaking of creepy, let’s head back home!

(It's a good thing that Chloe cornered Marinette in the bathroom, so no one can see them.)

(The go through an underground passageway connected to the school. They decide to take the slow way there, with Mylentasma happily rowing her gondola through the eerie river, as she and her sisters act as a tour guide, pointing out creepy things as they pass the river.)

Alynis: And over there is the hanging tree! We hung up the ornaments and skeletons ourselves!

Rose Frankenteen: Whenever Alix didn't try chewing on the bones!

Winlix: And over there is where I like to bury all my favorite toys!

Jubella: Ah, here's zhe space vhere Mylentasma and I go to brood.

(Mylentasma nods dramatically)

Mylentasma: One needs a proper space to contemplate the heaviness of life…

Jubella: It is only right for us horrifying creatures of zhe night to fill such a room with sorrow.

Alynis: They get really pissy if you interrupt them being emo.

(The vampire and phantom pout in annoyance.)

(Marinette texts her parents and sends a video, Since she knows vampires don't appear in photos.

Marinette: Mom, Dad, I've got frightfully good news for you. I've already made friends, best friends in fact. In fact, I even met my one true love! Here they are. *They all wave, and she points the camera to Kagami, who's snuggling her.* They can't wait to meet you after school!

Marinette: Oh, and don't worry about the sun, Juleka. We prefer the macarbe and peaceful atmosphere of darkness.

Tom: That’s wonderful, dear! We can’t wait to meet them.

Xia Bing: We’re so glad you had a frightfully good first day!)

(As she waves goodbye, Kagami squeezes her tight. Marinette responds by lightly tickling her nose. The boat stops and Mylentasma smiles sweetly.)

Mylentasma: We've arrived, my sisters!

(Marinette looks up and sees a creepy underground castle, and happily follows her spooky soulmate and her bonechilling besties. There's rooms for each girl, and then some. They first visit Jubella's gothic room, complete with books, a eerie purple coffin, and bats flying around. Jubella takes the time to happily and spookily coo at the bats.)

Jubella: Ah, such vonderful creatures of zhe night. Come, meet our newest member, my babies!

(They happily chirp and swirl around Marinette, who loves bats as well.)

Marinette: Hello, my little lovelies! How darling you all are!

(She gets an idea, and pulls out her wonderful spiders she brought to school, and shows them to the girls, who gasp in delight. They love spiders!)

Marinette: Meet Emma, Hugo, and Louis. Such beautiful beings, are they not? How they creep and crawl, waiting to give you a scare! I wish I could be a fearsome spider, catching up little things in my web.

Winlix: (Holding one of the spiders) Hey little dude! (To Marinette) That would be epic!

Jubella: Vell, ve vould certainly have room for zhem. Ve shall build you a room soon, so zhat you can stay here for sleepovers!

Marinette: It would make my heart scream!

(They then travel to the Phantom's lair. There's a pipe organ, ominous fog, ghostly outfits for disguises, sheet music, gnarly trees, and tons of mirrors. Mylentasma gestures dramatically as she speaks of her spooky yet comforting abode.)

Mylentasma: Ah, my oasis of music! Is it not wonderful! Here is my sanctuary where I sing to my hearts content!

Kagami: Me and Mylene go to each other's rooms sometimes to revel in being spirits. We chase each other around, it's really fun. And I like to listen to her play.

Mylentasma: Ah yes, my beloved organ. I've crafted such heartwarming and horrifying melodies, all to help my fellow thespians of DuPont, and for the simple joy of pleasing myself and my sisters! And sometimes... Ivan, my Angel of Music. We sing such beautiful ballads to each other, I am the voice he hears in his mind.

Marinette: I’m sure you two will make such a lovely pair!

Mylentasma: Soon, I know. It's not that I fear him rejecting me, he has told me that I'm the only one he feels love for. I simply want to wait a little while, find the right moment. I plan on composing an opera for my angel, and students are welcome to join in, though it is not a demand.

(Marinette smiles as she looks at the different ghostly outfits and masks on display.)

Mylentasma: So you’ve noticed. Yes, despite being a spirit, we are able to create and wear different clothes. I like to change it up every now and again. We all do. This outfit is my favorite. My mother wore similar attire, and she had such good taste! But enough about me. Let us continue, my sisters!

(Next up is Rose Frankenteen's lab. There's bubbling vials, gadgets, creepy tools, and tons of other mad sciency stuff. The mad doctor cackles as she dances around the room.)

Rose Frankenteen: Isn’t it just a scream?! I made it all myself! I’m always tampering and tinkering.

Jubella: She vorks vith such ferocity, it brings lovely chills to my spine. Marinette: Ah, and I assume you show off these gadgets to Sabrina and Max? They mention hearing your laughter and you letting them touch your inventions.

(Rose grins at hearing about her human she likes to interact with.)

Rose Frankenteen: Yes, she’s such a lovely girl! So intelligent and curious! She deserves so much better than that dreadful Chloe! And then there's Max, he's so intelligent, especially for a human! I'm planning on collaborating with him in the future. Of course, I still give those two quite the fright at times!

Winlix: Speakin' of frights, my room's up next!

(There was meat, chew toys, workout stuff, a buncha history stuff because of her late parents. It also has a bunch of trees and have rocks to make it like a wolf den. Probably also have moon and star decals on the ceiling)

(Winlix barks with joy and runs around the room.)

Marinette: This place is beautiful! Befitting of a werewolf, might I add.

(Winlix grins, showing off her sharp teeth.)

Winlix: What can I say, It’s my den!

Kagami: If there's one thing she loves doing in this room, it's prepping for a pounce. She's even able to get me and Mylene if she catches us off guard.

Rose Frankenteen: It's a sign of honor if she pounces on you at home. (Winlix grins, realizing she hasn't pounced on Marinette yet.)

Winlix: (Pounces on Marinette, hugging her new friend and she growls happily)

(Marinette giggles as Winlix licks her face)

Winlix: No way you’re getting outta this cuddle, Mar' (The other ghouls join her in the cuddle session.)

Jubella: It is no use, my dear. You are surrounded.

(They giggle and let go, as they head to Alynis's room.)

(Alynis's room is styled after an Egpyptian throne room. There are scarabs everywhere, hieroglyphics, a space for her to blog with a computer and wifi, a sarcophogus, various snacks and posters, and dust. She smiles, putting her hands up dramatically.)

Alynis: Behold, my marvelous tomb. The perfect space for a ruler of the sandy expanse such as myself!

(She smiles as the scarabs begin interacting with the spiders, with the different bugs chatting to each other.)

Alynis: We need to have our babies get together for a playdate. Jules can bring hers as well!

Jubella: Vhat a delightfully fangtastic idea!

Alynis: And this is my sarcophogus. Make sure not to disturb my slumber, or suffer my wrath! Mwahaha!

Marinette: I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear. I wouldn’t wish to incur the curse of the mighty pharaoh!

(Alynis giggles)

Alynis: Of course, here's where I conjure up my sand storms.

(She starts doing exaggerated gestures)

Winlix: Watch out, sis! You don't wanna break a hip.

(Alynis gives her an annoyed look and sticks her tongue out)

Alynis: And of course, here is my blog! I call it "The Wrap". There's entries on me and my sisters, news stories, and sharing the history of monsterkind! Alix helps out with it.

Marinette: I’ll be sure to check it out! It seems quite interesting *Smiling* I've always had a love for the world wide web. And I just can't wait to see your room, 'Gami!

(She blushes and takes her hand.)

(The guest room has plenty of TVs for the ghost to enter, along with headstones, bonsai trees and tons of curtains. There is a deathly chill in the air.

(Kagami floats around her room, so happy that Marinette likes her ghostly safe haven.)

Kagami: I’m so glad you like it! I hope we spend time here together!

Marinette: Come to me in my dreams, love. Then we can spend all the time we want. (As they head to the witches room, the girls explain why the house is so big.)

Rose Frankenteen: This place was designed as a haven for our families. They all got together and made sure we were born in a place where we could be safe from hunters.

Marinette: Hunters?

Mylentasma: While we've been lucky to find some humans willing to protect us, others look at monsters with such hatred, that they were able to kill our parents, and in some cases, our siblings.

Kagami: My mother was able to escape her trap, but was blinded in the process. (Marinette looks with such anguish at this news.)

Marinette: How horrible! I know that saying sorry doesn't fix anything but-

Jubella: It vas painful, yes. Zat is vhy ve protect the school and each other! In zeir honor, and to repay our dear mothers!

Alynis: Who you'll meet soon enough. After all, they'll be present for your induction into our group, as a sister.

(Marinette enters the Witches's room. There's bubbling cauldrons, potions, what else would there be?)

Probably classroom type stuff, as they’re also teachers who educate their ‘daughters’.

(Yep, and decorative skulls as well.) Marinette: I assume this is where you get your education?

Mylentasma: Yes, our mothers have taught us much in the ways of the magical and scholarly!

Alynis: And of course... how to spook the pants off of people.

(The girls all giggle and begin recapping stuff they were taught by the Witches of Wisdom.)

Alynis: For instance, they teach me how to use dark magic not just to save people, but to give 'em nightmares as well.

Winlix: They give me a lot of great pouncing tips!

Mylentasma: I've learned so many ghostly tricks from them. Appearing in mirrors, shooting fireballs, how to make shadows appear in front of my face.

Jubella: Zey have taught me much about utilizing my vampire powers to zhe very highest benefit!

Kagami: I learned how to access and control my psychic abilties because of them. Now I can show off the true power of a spirit.

Rose Frankenteen: They taught me how to hone my terrifying monster angle! GRAAAAH!

Winlix: Yeah, we all made up these characters, and Rose switches between a big hulking brute, and her usual mad scientist self.

Rose Frankenteen: Rosie good actress! GRAAAGGHH!

(They hear three sets of delightfully spooky cackles coming from the shadows.)

Giselle: A human with as frightful a mind as you all. And dare I say, a new sister to join our group?

Olga: Let's see if she has what it takes, my pretties.

Marinette: All my life I've wanted to learn the ways of witchcraft, please reveal yourselves to me!

(The three emerge from the shadows, cackling with delight and shrouded in ominous light. They grin at her sense of fashion, her love for spiders, and all the things that they've overheard. They tip their pointy hats to her, using magic to make their cloaks flap inside.)

Caline: Delighted to meet you my dear! And might I say what adorable little arachnids you have there!

Marinette: Thank you, miss. I've always had such a passion for these creatures.

(Giselle nods and kisses her wife before speaking to Marinette.)

Giselle: And your sense of style is so morbidly beautiful my dear!

(Marinette takes a bow.)

Marinette: Thank my parents. I suppose I share their love for the eerie and macarbe.

Olga: And you say have the wish to learn witchcraft?

(Marinette nods eagerly)

Marinette: More than anything!

Caline: Well, we’d be happy to teach you! You certainly have the spirit for it!

Marinette: You would?! (The girls pat her on the back.)

Mylentasma: We told you they’d love you!

Marinette: *Bowing to them* I eagerly accept to follow your teachings, masters.

Olga: Then it is time for your induction to begin. Gather round, Marinette, my girls, for you are about to have a new sister!

(The ghouls cheer with joy, hugging Marinette)

(They all move back and surround her, and the incantation begins. Eerie green fog surrounds the room, and the witches eyes begin to glow.)

Witches of Wisdom: Engulf in shadow, cloak in dark Let the blaze of magic take your heart You are one of us, we are family now With our final chant, you seal your vow!

(The eerie glow around the room gets brighter as Marinette feels herself becoming more attuned with the darkness, she truly has become a spookster like her new siblings.)

Ghoul Squad: Greetings, sister.

Marinette: I can feel the magic coursing through every part of me. I’ve never felt so alive!

Jubella: Now you are one vith us, always in our hearts and minds!

Mylentasma: Our spellbinding songs shall be heard throughout the city!

Alynis: We'll wrap you up, nice and cold, sister.

Winlix: You're gonna be the best witch there ever was!

(Marinette tears up.)

Marinette: Thank you, sisters. I never want this feeling to end. (She looks up at her other mamas and new masters.)

Marinette: I promise I won't let you down, mothers.

Caline: We know, darling. We have every confidence you will fully embrace your magic!

Giselle: We'll start your training tomorrow, dear.

Olga: But don't expect to be safe from our frights, isn't that right, girls? Don't go soft on her.

Mylentasma: We wouldn’t dream of it!

Alynis: We’ll still spook her out of her skin!

Marinette: I would want nothing more, and beware of spooks yourselves, my sisters. You never know when a spider will strike. (Giggles)

(The others all cackle along with her, they were going to have a wonderfully terrifiying time!)

And that’s how our Ghoul Squad met! Me and Weeby had a blast writing this, and the fun’s just beginning. We’ll see more Ghoul Squad content soon. In fact, you’ll get a chance to meet Adrien Agreste, a.k.a. Cat Astrophe. Make sure to reblog, reply, post and ask about the content. @artzychic27 @msweebyness

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dreamcrow · 1 year ago

Text

20 questions

i was tagged by several people (thank you @niemalsetwas, @babblish, and @creativenicocorner), who in doing so have conveniently eliminated many of the people i would have thought to tag myself, haha. let's see... @falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand, @eri-223, @sidhewrites, if you like? plus anyone else who would like to steal.

1.) how many works do you have on ao3?

41 posted; 0 drafts.

2.) what's your total ao3 word count?

189,246. (?!)

3.) what fandoms do you write for?

oh, ask not for whom the hyperfixation tolls. (toa, obviously.) i do have a few fics i've deleted, though, in fandoms i don't currently have any fics for. maybe i should republish them on anon? 🤔

4.) what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

in my sleep i dreamed of waking

all that dazzling dawn has put asunder

it's a lovely day in stricklake month

misc. trollhunters prompts

sophisticated/manipulated

oh...they're (almost) all str/icklake, lol. and so old! is it strange that i feel so disaffected by this? well, probably not. a good lesson in kudos being merely a measurement of "how many times people pushed the kudos button," i suppose.

5.) do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try to! part of my general attitude of "fandom is a conversation." i worry i don't always have all the spoons to make my replies what i feel they "should" be, but i do always want to convey my gratitude for people taking the time to leave a comment at all.

6.) what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh, that's easy: notstantinoplefic! unfortunately it's not yet approached something even remotely publishable, so that probably means very little. ¯\_( ᐛ )_/¯

other than that...probably the first or second parts of minor arcana. probably the first, more than the second. skrael's chapter ends on something awful but he's about to enjoy a good bit of (however fleeting) catharis; bellroc however doesn't get any closure for what happens in their chapter until they meet nari, a couple centuries later.

7.) what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

...do i have a fic that doesn't have an ultimately happy ending? 😂 oh, i am too soft. even the horrible vicious ancient wizard gods tend to go out with full stomachs, warm beds, and someone on their side.

8.) do you get hate on fics?

i'll not lie: i have glimpsed the occasional drama from over my meticulously-curated rose hedge. but most of it seems to be from children, and for all my various weaknesses, i think i can survive being vagueblogged by people who aren't old enough to vote. if not: my anon is on ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

9.) do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i am ATTEMPTING. most of the smut i've ever read has left me generally ??? baffled, glazing over, skipping through (without animus) to the next part. again, this is not the fault of the author; it's true even of things i can tell objectively are well-written, titillating, otherwise universally acclaimed. but i enjoy thinking about character exercises, and i am not completely untemptable, so this year i've been trying to make some progress on my longtime agenda of "get the horrible bird wizard railed."

...none of which is terribly apparent given that none of it is published, ofc! but. hopefully. that may change in the not-too-distant future.

10.) do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

tbh i am very picky about crossovers. but i must admit... skraelroc necro/cav au... a man is Considering

11.) have you ever had a fic stolen?

i've had people repost my art, which (as someone who does not think of himself as an even remotely skilled artist) was very surprising. but never fic.

12.) have you ever had a fic translated?

none that i know of.

13.) have you ever co-written a fic before?

the closest i've ever come is probably blue wizard boyfriends, which is inspired by some rp shenanigans between a friend and me. but even so, my take on douxie in that series has diverged quite a bit from hers! so it doesn't really feel like "cowriting."

14.) what's your all-time favorite ship?

as your #1 friendly neighborhood degenerate not-even-actually-incest pornographer, i simply must say: nothing quite hits like a ship you literally invented

15.) what's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

to be completely honest, i do still feel the occasional pang of nostalgia for my gr/avity f/4lls fic. i had a lot of world built for it, a whole sequence/interaction arc for the characters (and not just the couple). unfortunately, even this many years later—even if i never got directly harassed—the nastiness of that fandom has still left a very strong impression on me. it was the first time i think i ever saw a/ntis in action, and i don't think i have any desire to pick that story up again.

16.) what are your writing strengths?

...worldbuilding? present tense, apparently. 😂 i've also been told i have a knack for—ah, how did he put it. understated emotional closeup shots? i think of such kind comments often, haha.

17.) what are your writing weaknesses?

discipline. not using too many semicolons. recently: not using paired adjectives. mainstream fanon. not going back over published work and finding a billion small things to fix (though i'm getting better at this).

18.) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

...mainly: "you're lucky i didn't make myself learn actual ancient egyptian for all those dumb little skraelroc shmoop fics i keep setting in ancient egypt"

otherwise? i err on the side of under-doing it, but i love doing this. i love seeing this in fic, even if it's not a language i know. it's like a little easter egg!!

19.) first fandom you wrote for?

a very old anime fandom which i will not be revealing on main. probably twenty years ago, at this point. almost certainly on ff.net.

20.) favorite fic you've ever written?

oh, i'm not sorry. i am thinking of minor arcana so often these days, but i really am pretty proud of it. even now, more than a year later! once i have the time to go through and fine-tune everything, i'm going to bind it. it's a very weird fic, probably, but one that is nevertheless (or perhaps because of this?) very dear to my heart.

#q&a #wip tag #ask games #i am emotional! how am i supposed to send emails now

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isivvywritting · 1 year ago

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Arte pa' tus ojos (Historia Chilena) Parte 2: Diablito (2/2)

"-Diablito llegaste?

-Sí, sí

Pero no te veo 😔

-No?

Yo acabo de ver un muy buen par de piernas pasando"

Will baja el celular y se detiene, mira hacía atrás y ahí ve a Bjorn sonriéndole desde debajo de un árbol, corre hasta él y lo abraza por el cuello.

-Hoola- Bjorn se abraza a su cintura con fuerza.

-Wena po diablito.

-No te había visto.

-Sí caché, te ví dando vueltas como 5 minutos- Will ö y empuja a Bjorn levemente.

-¡Bjorn!- Este ríe apoyando la cara en el hombro de Will- Que eres malo.

-Yaa, si tampoco hace tanto rato pero te vei bonito con esa carita de perdío.

-Que tonto- Se levanta sobre la punta de sus pies para darle un corto beso a Bjorn quien lo profundiza rápidamente.

-Echaba de menos esos besitos.

-Y yo te echaba de menos a ti- Se separa de Bjorn y mira a su alrededor- Que bonito el parque, me encanta.

-¿Sí? No sabía qué tipo de lugares te gustaban.

-Me gusta todo en verdad, y no he visto casi nada lejos de mi casa así que estoy dispuesto a explorar donde me lleves- Bjorn lo observa largamente con una sonrisa- ¿Qué pasa?

-Que eri bacán- Will ríe risueño a la vez que Bjorn lo toma de la mano y comienzan a caminar por el parque.

-La próxima salida me toca a mí.

-¿Mmh?

-Yo voy a planear algo para que salgamos.

-Yaa, no es necesario igual

-No pero igual te quiero sacar yo a alguna parte, ¿Qué tipo de lugares te gustan?

-Mientras tengamos donde comernos, donde sea.

-¡Ay Bjorn!- Se voltea ligeramente mientras caminan, mostrando un bolso que llevaba cruzado por su cuerpo- Traje lo que te dije para comer y una manta.

-Wena, sí yo igual traje mis cosas así que busquemos sombrita y nos instalamos, ah- Will asiente con una sonrisa.

-Me encanta esta idea que tuviste del picnic- Dice Will poniendo las últimas cosas y sentándose en la manta bajo la sombra de un árbol.

-Ah, sí, supuse que era algo lindo- Will asiente mientras ve a Bjorn sentándose.

-No te ves del tipo de hombre al que le gusten los picnic.

-No, nunca he hecho uno, pero es comer po- Ambos ríen entre dientes- Comer no cuesta naa.

-Sí, bueno, la experiencia de comer en un picnic es muy diferente a la de comer en un mall, por ejemplo- Bjorn levanta las cejas mientras toma una de las galletas que Will había llevado- Es tierno que hayas pensado en esto, me hace verte como un hombre mucho más dulce de lo que pareces- Sonríe tímidamente, Bjorn solo lo queda mirando con media galleta en la boca.

-Ah- Se aclara un poco la garganta- Eh oye están super ricas las galletas.

-Eh…sí, las hizo Yaya, la trabajadora de hogar de mi casa, volvió el otro día de sus vacaciones y se ofreció a ayudarme con estas cositas…pero yo igual ayudé.

-...¿Teni nana?

-Ah, sí, ¿Hay algún problema?

-No, no, es como sorprendente, no sé, no en mala es que nunca había conocido a alguien con nana.

-¿No? Que raro, todos mis amigos tienen, es como…imposible vivir sin una, si cuando se fue de vacaciones tuvimos que aprender a hacer hartas cosas igual, imagínate, tuve que lavar una olla- Bjorn solo asiente lentamente con las cejas alzadas.

-Oye, ¿Te gusta ir a la disco?

-¿A la disco?

-Pensé en invitarte a una pero no sabía si era lo tuyo.

-...creo que las discos a las que vas tú no son iguales a las fiestas que voy yo- Bjorn ríe entre dientes.

-Seguramente, no deben escuchar ni reguetón en tus reuniones de cuicos.

-¡Bjorn!

-Pura música en inglés ¿O no?

-...más o menos- Will sonríe- Me da cosita pero si estoy contigo igual me gustaría ir a alguna disco.

-¿Sí?- Williams asiente- Buena, pa la otra te invito.

-Después de que yo te saque.

-Claro, claro, ¿Y a dónde me queri llevar?

-Todavía tengo que pensarlo, con el calor que hace.

-¿Algún lao pa mojarnos?

-Oye sí ah- Bjorn se acerca a Williams con las cejas alzadas.

-Aunque pa terminar mojaitos se me ocurren hartos laos.

-Ay, cómo eres- Toma a Will por la cintura y acerca su rostro a su cuello, dándole ligeros besos- Bjorn…- Mira a Bjorn y le da un cálido beso que pronto se transforma en uno hambriento y profundo que lo deja sin aliento- Ah Bjorn.

-Que te vei rico, diablito- Con una mano en la nuca de Will y la otra en su cintura, lo empuja levemente haciendo que se acueste sobre el pasto y besándolo profundamente, posicionando meticulosamente su cintura entre los muslos de Williams y su cuerpo sobre el del chico. Su boca resbala con habilidad por la mandíbula de Will y por el costado de su cuello, besando, lamiendo y mordiéndolo con pasión.

-Ay Bjorn, alguien nos va a ver- Siente el cálido aliento de Bjorn al dar un suspiro contra su cuello.

-Que miren, que disfruten del show- Siente los labios de Bjorn pegarse a su cuello y succionar, haciendo que no pueda contener el ligero gemido que escapa de sus labios, se siente sonrojar a la vez que Bjorn levanta la mirada con una sonrisa- qué lindo.

-Ugh, Bjorn- Habiéndole gustado la respuesta previa, Bjorn sigue besando el cuello de Will, succionando de vez en cuando, dejando un camino de marcas moradas y rojizas, algunas más profundas que otras- Ya, ya Bjorn- Will lo aleja entre ligeras risas.

-Ya no más, por ahora ah- Will asiente sonriendo risueño. Bjorn se quita de encima de Will-...oe, traje unas cositas más, pa la calor- Will observa a Bjorn sacar un par de botellas medianas de alcohol- Vienen helaitas.

-¡Bjorn!- Baja la voz como si corriera el riesgo de que alguien lo escuche a pesar de que estaban solos- ¿No es ilegal tomar en la vía pública?

-Pensé que te gustaba hacer cositas malas po diablito, no es naa, no nos va a ver nadie- Abre una botella y se la ofrece a Will- Mira, si nos pillan decimos que te obligué, ¿Ya?- Will ríe entre dientes tomando la botella.

-¿Y yo qué hago si te lleva carabineros?

-Me vai a ver en cana po', me vai a dejar de tus galletitas, imagínate, mi visita es el medio mino, voy a ser la envidia.

-Ayy Bjorn- Ríe viendo a Bjorn tomar un sorbo de su bebida y haciendo lo mismo. Beben en plácido silencio un rato, dándose esporádicas miradas y sonrisas.

-¿Le devolviste el encendedor a tu amiga?

-¿A la Trini? Sí sí- Bjorn parece divertido.

-¿Se llama Trini?

-Ay sí sé, es nombre típico. Pero a ver, yo me llamo Willy Wonka- Empuja a Bjorn levemente.

-Yaa si te dije así porque estaba enojao no más.

-Comprensible, la verdad- Parece recordar algo de pronto y Bjorn lo ve sacar algo de su bolso- Toma, se me estaba olvidando devolver tu chaqueta.

-Ah, pero diablito- toma la chaqueta y la pone sobre las piernas de Will- Si ya no es mía po.

-¿Cómo que no es tuya?

-Es del que se vea más bonito no ma, es tuya- Will ö y se sonroja ligeramente.

-P--Pero Bjorn no, no no, no puedo aceptar algo así.

-No le pongai color si es una chaqueta, y te queda bonita a vo po'

-No es ponerle color, si es algo bonito Bjorn, es un gesto muy tierno- Bjorn niega levemente con el ceño fruncido y expresión de asco, haciendo a Will reír.

-¿Qué?

-¿Por qué no te gusta que diga que hiciste algo lindo? Eres un hombre tierno, Bjorn.

-Aggh, no digai esas cosas po Williams, vo eri tierno, yo no, yo soy…

-¿Mmh?- Will apoya el mentón en una de sus manos con una divertida sonrisa.

-No sé, dime que estoy rico, no que soy tierno- Will gatea hasta hasta tener su rostro frente al de Bjorn, su expresión era seductora y su voz baja y aterciopelada, como el ronroneo de un felino.

-Eres muy sexy, estás muy rico, sí, tienes unos brazos muy marcados y me encanta la rudeza en tu mirada- Sube una mano lentamente desde la muñeca hasta el hombro de Bjorn- Me gustan mucho las cicatrices que tienes en la cara, ¿Fueron con cuchillos?

-Navajas- Bjorn parece falto de aliento.

-Eres el tipo de hombre que a cualquiera intimida.

-A cualquiera…

-Menos a mí- Su mano sube sorpresivamente hasta el cuello de Bjorn, este traga saliva contra su palma- A mí me gustas. Y aunque te diga que no, a mi me gustan las cosas que me haces hacer, entrar a una casa, tomar en la calle- Con su pulgar acaricia la mandíbula de Bjorn- Me encantaría saber hasta dónde podemos llegar.

-Oh pero diablito-- Will pone un ligero puchero sin borrar la seducción de su expresión.

-Porque yo estoy aburrido de tener una vida tan aburrida.

-¿Entonces?

-Ser tierno te viene de paquete, Bjorn, y me encanta, y no quiero que lo niegues. Pero no eres un caballero, y tampoco quiero que hagas cosas que no quieres o no te gustan. Y no me dejes fuera, yo también quiero vivir, mi vida es muy aburrida, y esa no es vida para tu diablito, ¿o sí?

-No…no- Con una traviesa sonrisa ladina, Bjorn se levanta sobre sus rodillas, besando a Williams apasionadamente y haciéndolo caer sobre su espalda al pasto nuevamente, toma los muslos de Will por debajo levantando sus caderas.

-¿Bjorn?

-¿No queriai hacer algo arriesgado?

-¿Eh?- Mira hacia abajo y ve a Bjorn desabotonando su pantalón con rapidez y disponiéndose a bajarlo- ¡No, no Bjorn!- Este se detiene de inmediato- Eso no, Bjorn, aquí no.

-No hay nadie, diablito- Will se sienta nuevamente- La hacemos rápida…

-No, si alguien nos pilla ahí sí que nos vamos presos. A parte me pondría muy nervioso.

-Ya, dale…disculpa- Will sonríe ampliamente y le da un beso en la mejilla.

-No te preocupes, cuando estemos solitos…veremos qué pasa, ah- Bjorn asiente con entusiasmo.

-Oe…pero, ¿Nos podemos comer un rato más?

-Sí po'- Empuja a Bjorn por los hombros, dejándolo en el suelo, y sentándose sobre él. Toma las manos de Bjorn en las suyas y las pone a ambos lados de su trasero con una ligera sonrisa- Dale Bjorn, agarra lo que quieras- Se agacha y besa a Bjorn, introduciendo su lengua en su boca con sensualidad, cuando se separa nota a Bjorn quien parecía estar en las nubes.

-Oooh diablito- Sube una de sus manos y la pone en la nuca de Will, acercándolo a su rostro- Me tení más caliente que la chucha.

-¿Quieres que pare?

-Nooo, por favor no- Williams ríe entre dientes y vuelve a besar a Bjorn. Pasan mayor parte de la tarde juntos en el parque, hablando, besándose, tocándose y bebiendo.

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a-z0-9-i-n-gram-completionist · 10 months ago

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7: 4THEDEP AAAAAAA ABLISHM ABLYAUT ACCIDEN ACESIGM ACHIEVE ACKSTAG ACRIFIC ACUDA67 ADICTIO ADVISED AGICALL AINWREC ALLELED ALREADY AMAZOV0 AMIODDL ANIMATR ANKARAM ANONYMO ANOTHER ANTRUTH ANYTHIN APOLOGI APPEARI APPEARS APPENED ARACTER ARALLEL ARAMAZO ARMESAN ARNAROL AROACES ARRACUD ARZIPAN ASBONER ASONABL ASTDIVA ASTROPH ATASTRO ATBOYBE ATCHING ATIONAL ATMETOT ATRONIC ATURALL AUCEPAN AUTIFUL AZIRAPH BABLYAU BACKSTA BARRACU BEATMET BEAUTIF BECAUSE BESPOKE BIOHAZA BISCUIT BLINKSA BLISHME BLRINAS BLYAUTI BOYBEEB BSESSED BUGSDOT BUSINES CARNARO CATASTR CATBOYB CCIDENT CECONFI CESIGMA CHARACT CHIEVEM CHOPPED CHUCHUW CHUUYAS CIDENTA CKSTAGE CKTALES COBBLER COMMEND COMMENT COMPLET COMPLEX CONDUCT CONFIRM CONTRAD CORPORA COUNTER CRASHES CRASHIN CRIFICI CROWLEY CUDA677 CULTURE CUTIONE CUTLASS DDLYART DEAVOUR DELECTA DELIGHT DELOREA DEMANDS DENTIFY DEPPRES DETAILE DIATELY DICTION DISGUIS DIVANTR DOTJPEG DOYOULI DRIZZLE DSMOBIL DUCKTAL EARNING EARSHOT EASONAB EASPOON EATMETO EAUTIFU EBEATME EBUGSDO ECOMMEN ECONFIR ECTABLY ECUTION EDEPPRE EDIATEL EDIENTS EERMARZ EFERENC EFFECTI EGETABL EGMENTE EIRDEST ELDRITC ELECTAB ELECTRI ELIGHTF ELITTLE ELOREAN EMBERIN EMEMBER ENDEAVO ENGUMI1 ENJOYED ENTATIO ENTENCE ENTIFYI ENTIRET ENTLEME EONEBEA EPARATE EPPRESS EPRINCE ERMARZI ERNAMES ESCAPIN ESENTAT ESENTED ESEUSER ESSO4TH ESTABLI ETAILED ETHISSO ETOTHES ETURNIN EUSERNA EVEMENT EXECUTI EXPLAIN EXPRESS EXQUISI FAILURE FEATURE FECTIVE FERENCE FFECTIV FINALLY FOLLOWI FOREWOR FUCKING FUNKING FUNNIES GENTLEM GETABLE GETTING GHERKIN GHTFULL GICALLY GIMMICK GMENTED GODDAMN GRANDMA GREDIEN GSDOTJP HALLOTS HAPPENE HAPPENS HARACTE HAVINGS HECHAOS HEDEPPR HELITTL HENANID HESEUSE HICALLY HIEVEME HIJACKI HISSONG HTFULLY HUUYASB ICTIONS IDENTAL IDENTIF IEVEMEN IFICING IGHTFUL IJACKIN IKETHIS ILGRAVE IMATRON IMMEDIA INCECON INCORPO INFUSIO INGREDI INKSAGE INSTEAD INSTRUC INWRECK INYLBIO IODDLYA IOHAZAR IRAPHAL IRRATIO ISCUITS ISGUISE ISHMENT ISONING ISSCHUC ITTLEPR IVANKAR IVANTRU JACKING KARAMAZ KETHISS KILGRAV KILLING KYSTELL LASTDIV LBIOHAZ LDRITCH LDSMOBI LEARNIN LECTABL LECTRIC LEPRINC LIGHTFU LIKETHI LINKSAG LISHMEN LITTLEP LKYSTEL LLOWING LYAUTIS MAGICAL MARZIPA MATRONI MAZOV07 MBERING MBLRINA MEDIATE MEMBERI MEONEBE METHING METIMES METOTHE MILLION MIODDLY MISSCHU MMEDIAT MMENDED MMONING MORNING MULTIPL MURDERS MUSHROO NATURAL NCECONF NCORPOR NDEAVOU NDUCTOR NEBEATM NFIRMED NFUSION NGREDIE NGUMI12 NIMATRO NKARAMA NKINGRN NKSAGER NLOCKED NONYMOU NOTHING NPARALL NREASON NSTRUCT NTATION NTENCED NTIFYIN NTIRETY NTLEMEN NTRADIC NTRUTHE NYLBIOH NYTHING O4THEDE OACESIG OBABLYA OBSESSE ODDLYAR OFFERED OHAZARD OISONIN OLDSMOB OLLOWIN OLOGIES OMEONEB OMETHIN OMETIME OMMENDE OMPLETE ONDUCTO ONEBEAT ONFIRME ONTRADI ONYMOUS OPERATE OPHICAL OREWORD ORPORAT ORTOBEL OTATOES OTHECHA OTHESEU OULIKET OYBEEBO OYOULIK PARALLE PARMESA PARSLEY PEARING PECIFIC PENGUMI PHICALL POISONI POLOGIE POPULAR PORATED PORCINI PORTOBE POTATOE PPEARIN PPRESSO PREPARE PRESENT PRESSO4 PRESSUE PRESSUR PRINCEC PRINKLE PRINTED PRINTIN PROBABL PROLIFI PROMISE PROVIDE PUKICHO QUEERMA QUISITE RACUDA6 RADICTI RAINWRE RALLELE RAMAZOV RAPHALE RASHING RATIONA REASONA RECOMME REDIENT REFEREN REGULAR REMEMBE REMORSE REQUEST RESENTA RESENTE RESSO4T RESSURE RETURNI RIFICIN RINCECO RINTING RISOTTO RMARZIP RNAROLI ROACESI ROBABLY ROLIFIC ROPHICA RPORATE RRACUDA RRATION RTLENEC RTOBELL RUCTION SACRIFI SAFFRON SAUCEPA SAV3YEE SCAPING SCHUCHU SDOTJPE SEGMENT SENTATI SENTENC SEPARAT SERNAME SERVING SETTING SEUSERN SEVERAL SHALLOT SHAVING SHENANI SHOWING SHROOMS SIMPLER SMOBILE SO4THED SOMEONE SOMETHI SOMETIM SONABLY SPECIAL SPECIFI SPOTTED SPRINKL SSCHUCH SSO4THE STABLIS STANDAR STDIVAN STROPHI STRUCTI STYX142 SULKYST SUMMONE SUMMONI TABLISH TAGGING TALKING TANDARD TASTROP TBOYBEE TDIVANT TEASPOO THECHAO THEDEPP THELITT THESEUS THISSON TIFYING TLENECK TLEPRIN TMETOTH TOBELLO TOTHECH TOTHESE TRADICT TRAINWR TRONICS TROPHIC TRUCTIO TRUFFLE TRUTHER TTLEPRI TUMBLRI TURALLY TURNING TURTLEN UCKTALE UCTIONS UEERMAR UGSDOTJ ULIKETH ULKYSTE ULTIPLE UMBLRIN UMMONED UMMONIN UNKINGR UNLOCKE

UNNAMED UNNIEST UNPARAL UNREASO URAZAYT URTLENE USERNAM USHROOM USINESS UTIONER UUYASBO UYASBON VANKARA VANTRUT VEGETAB VERSION VINYLBI WATCHIN WEIRDES WEIRDLY WORKING WRITING XECUTIO XPRESSO XQUISIT YASBONE YAUTISM YBEEBOP YLBIOHA YOULIKE YSTELLA ZIRAPHA 540/78364164096

8: 4THEDEPP AAAAAAAA ABLISHME ABLYAUTI ACCIDENT ACESIGMA ACHIEVEM ACKSTAGE ACRIFICI ACUDA677 ADICTION AGICALLY AINWRECK AMAZOV07 AMIODDLY ANIMATRO ANKARAMA ANONYMOU ANTRUTHE ANYTHING APOLOGIE APPEARIN ARALLELE ARAMAZOV ARNAROLI AROACESI ARRACUDA ASONABLY ASTDIVAN ASTROPHI ATASTROP ATBOYBEE ATMETOTH ATRONICS ATURALLY AZIRAPHA BABLYAUT BACKSTAG BARRACUD BEATMETO BEAUTIFU BIOHAZAR BISCUITS BLINKSAG BLISHMEN BLYAUTIS BOYBEEBO BUGSDOTJ BUSINESS CARNAROL CATASTRO CATBOYBE CCIDENTA CECONFIR CHARACTE CHIEVEME CHUUYASB CIDENTAL COMMENDE COMPLETE CONDUCTO CONFIRME CONTRADI CORPORAT CRASHING CRIFICIN CUTIONER DELECTAB DELIGHTF DELOREAN DENTIFYI DEPPRESS DETAILED DICTIONS DISGUISE DIVANTRU DOYOULIK DSMOBILE DUCKTALE EASONABL EATMETOT EAUTIFUL EBEATMET EBUGSDOT ECOMMEND ECONFIRM ECUTIONE EDEPPRES EDIATELY EERMARZI EFERENCE EFFECTIV EGETABLE EGMENTED ELDRITCH ELECTABL ELECTRIC ELIGHTFU ELITTLEP EMBERING EMEMBERI ENDEAVOU ENGUMI12 ENTATION ENTENCED ENTIFYIN ENTIRETY ENTLEMEN EONEBEAT EPPRESSO EPRINCEC ERMARZIP ESCAPING ESENTATI ESEUSERN ESSO4THE ESTABLIS ETHISSON ETOTHESE ETURNING EUSERNAM EXECUTIO EXPRESSO EXQUISIT FFECTIVE FOLLOWIN FOREWORD FUNKINGR FUNNIEST GENTLEME GHTFULLY GREDIENT GSDOTJPE HAPPENED HARACTER HEDEPPRE HELITTLE HESEUSER HIEVEMEN HIJACKIN HUUYASBO IDENTIFY IEVEMENT IGHTFULL IJACKING IKETHISS IMATRONI IMMEDIAT INCECONF INCORPOR INFUSION INGREDIE INKSAGER INSTRUCT INYLBIOH IODDLYAR IOHAZARD IRAPHALE IRRATION ISSCHUCH ITTLEPRI IVANKARA IVANTRUT KARAMAZO KETHISSO KILGRAVE KYSTELLA LASTDIVA LBIOHAZA LDSMOBIL LEARNING LECTABLY LEPRINCE LIGHTFUL LIKETHIS LINKSAGE LISHMENT LITTLEPR LKYSTELL LYAUTISM MAGICALL MARZIPAN MATRONIC MBLRINAS MEDIATEL MEMBERIN MEONEBEA METOTHES MIODDLYA MISSCHUC MMEDIATE MULTIPLE MUSHROOM NATURALL NCECONFI NCORPORA NDEAVOUR NEBEATME NGREDIEN NIMATRON NKARAMAZ NONYMOUS NPARALLE NREASONA NSTRUCTI NTIFYING NTRADICT NTRUTHER NYLBIOHA O4THEDEP OACESIGM OBABLYAU OBSESSED ODDLYART OISONING OLDSMOBI OLLOWING OMEONEBE OMETHING OMETIMES OMMENDED ONDUCTOR ONEBEATM ONFIRMED ONTRADIC OPHICALL ORPORATE ORTOBELL OTHECHAO OTHESEUS OULIKETH OYBEEBOP OYOULIKE PARALLEL PARMESAN PENGUMI1 PHICALLY POISONIN POLOGIES PORTOBEL POTATOES PPEARING PRESENTA PRESENTE PRESSO4T PRESSURE PRINCECO PRINTING PROBABLY PROLIFIC QUEERMAR RACUDA67 RADICTIO RAINWREC RALLELED RAMAZOV0 RATIONAL REASONAB RECOMMEN REDIENTS REFERENC REMEMBER RESENTAT RESENTED RESSO4TH RETURNIN RIFICING RINCECON RMARZIPA ROACESIG ROBABLYA ROPHICAL RPORATED RRACUDA6 RRATIONA RTLENECK RTOBELLO RUCTIONS SACRIFIC SAUCEPAN SCHUCHUW SDOTJPEG SEGMENTE SENTATIO SENTENCE SEPARATE SERNAMES SEUSERNA SHALLOTS SHAVINGS SHENANID SO4THEDE SOMEONEB SOMETHIN SOMETIME SPECIFIC SPRINKLE SSCHUCHU SSO4THED STABLISH STANDARD STDIVANT STROPHIC STRUCTIO SULKYSTE SUMMONED SUMMONIN TABLISHM TASTROPH TBOYBEEB TDIVANTR TEASPOON THECHAOS THEDEPPR THELITTL THESEUSE THISSONG TLEPRINC TMETOTHE TOTHECHA TOTHESEU TRADICTI TRAINWRE TROPHICA TRUCTION TTLEPRIN TUMBLRIN TURTLENE UCKTALES UEERMARZ UGSDOTJP ULIKETHI ULKYSTEL UMBLRINA UMMONING UNKINGRN UNLOCKED UNPARALL UNREASON URTLENEC USERNAME USHROOMS UUYASBON UYASBONE VANKARAM VANTRUTH VEGETABL VINYLBIO WATCHING WEIRDEST XECUTION XPRESSO4 XQUISITE YASBONER YLBIOHAZ YOULIKET ZIRAPHAL 357/2821109907456

9: 4THEDEPPR AAAAAAAAA ABLISHMEN ABLYAUTIS ACCIDENTA ACHIEVEME ACRIFICIN ADICTIONS AMIODDLYA ANIMATRON ANKARAMAZ ANONYMOUS ANTRUTHER APOLOGIES APPEARING ARALLELED ARAMAZOV0 AROACESIG ARRACUDA6 ASTDIVANT ASTROPHIC ATASTROPH ATBOYBEEB ATMETOTHE AZIRAPHAL BABLYAUTI BACKSTAGE BARRACUDA BEATMETOT BEAUTIFUL BIOHAZARD BLINKSAGE BLISHMENT BLYAUTISM BOYBEEBOP BUGSDOTJP CARNAROLI CATASTROP CATBOYBEE CCIDENTAL CECONFIRM CHARACTER CHIEVEMEN CHUUYASBO COMMENDED CONDUCTOR CONFIRMED CONTRADIC CORPORATE CRIFICING DELECTABL DELIGHTFU DENTIFYIN DEPPRESSO DIVANTRUT DOYOULIKE DUCKTALES EASONABLY EATMETOTH EBEATMETO EBUGSDOTJ ECOMMENDE ECONFIRME ECUTIONER EDEPPRESS EERMARZIP EFFECTIVE ELECTABLY ELIGHTFUL ELITTLEPR EMEMBERIN ENDEAVOUR ENTIFYING EONEBEATM EPRINCECO ERMARZIPA ESENTATIO ESEUSERNA ESSO4THED ESTABLISH ETHISSONG ETOTHESEU EUSERNAME EXECUTION EXPRESSO4 EXQUISITE FOLLOWING FUNKINGRN GENTLEMEN GREDIENTS GSDOTJPEG HEDEPPRES HELITTLEP HESEUSERN HIEVEMENT HIJACKING HUUYASBON IDENTIFYI IGHTFULLY IKETHISSO IMATRONIC IMMEDIATE INCECONFI INCORPORA INGREDIEN INSTRUCTI INYLBIOHA IODDLYART IRRATIONA ISSCHUCHU ITTLEPRIN IVANKARAM IVANTRUTH KARAMAZOV KETHISSON LASTDIVAN LBIOHAZAR LDSMOBILE LEPRINCEC LIGHTFULL LIKETHISS LINKSAGER LITTLEPRI LKYSTELLA MAGICALLY MATRONICS MEDIATELY MEMBERING MEONEBEAT METOTHESE MIODDLYAR MISSCHUCH MMEDIATEL MUSHROOMS NATURALLY NCECONFIR NCORPORAT NEBEATMET NGREDIENT NIMATRONI NKARAMAZO NPARALLEL NREASONAB NSTRUCTIO NTRADICTI NYLBIOHAZ O4THEDEPP OACESIGMA OBABLYAUT OLDSMOBIL OMEONEBEA ONEBEATME ONTRADICT OPHICALLY ORPORATED ORTOBELLO OTHECHAOS OTHESEUSE OULIKETHI OYOULIKET PARALLELE PENGUMI12 POISONING PORTOBELL PRESENTAT PRESENTED PRESSO4TH PRINCECON PROBABLYA QUEERMARZ RACUDA677 RADICTION RAINWRECK RAMAZOV07 REASONABL RECOMMEND REFERENCE REMEMBERI RESENTATI RESSO4THE RETURNING RINCECONF RMARZIPAN ROACESIGM ROBABLYAU ROPHICALL RRACUDA67 RRATIONAL SACRIFICI SEGMENTED SENTATION SENTENCED SEUSERNAM SO4THEDEP SOMEONEBE SOMETHING SOMETIMES SSCHUCHUW SSO4THEDE STABLISHM STDIVANTR STROPHICA STRUCTION SULKYSTEL SUMMONING TABLISHME TASTROPHI TBOYBEEBO TDIVANTRU THEDEPPRE THELITTLE THESEUSER TLEPRINCE TMETOTHES TOTHECHAO TOTHESEUS TRADICTIO TRAINWREC TROPHICAL TRUCTIONS TTLEPRINC TUMBLRINA TURTLENEC UEERMARZI UGSDOTJPE ULIKETHIS ULKYSTELL UMBLRINAS UNPARALLE UNREASONA URTLENECK USERNAMES UUYASBONE UYASBONER VANKARAMA VANTRUTHE VEGETABLE VINYLBIOH XECUTIONE XPRESSO4T YLBIOHAZA YOULIKETH ZIRAPHALE 243/101559956668416

10: 4THEDEPPRE AAAAAAAAAA ABLISHMENT ABLYAUTISM ACCIDENTAL ACHIEVEMEN ACRIFICING AMIODDLYAR ANIMATRONI ANKARAMAZO ARAMAZOV07 AROACESIGM ARRACUDA67 ASTDIVANTR ASTROPHICA ATASTROPHI ATBOYBEEBO ATMETOTHES AZIRAPHALE BABLYAUTIS BARRACUDA6 BEATMETOTH BLINKSAGER BUGSDOTJPE CATASTROPH CATBOYBEEB CECONFIRME CHIEVEMENT CHUUYASBON CONTRADICT CORPORATED DELECTABLY DELIGHTFUL DENTIFYING DIVANTRUTH DOYOULIKET EATMETOTHE EBEATMETOT EBUGSDOTJP ECOMMENDED ECONFIRMED EDEPPRESSO EERMARZIPA ELIGHTFULL ELITTLEPRI EMEMBERING EONEBEATME EPRINCECON ERMARZIPAN ESENTATION ESEUSERNAM ESSO4THEDE ESTABLISHM ETOTHESEUS EUSERNAMES EXECUTIONE EXPRESSO4T HEDEPPRESS HELITTLEPR HESEUSERNA HUUYASBONE IDENTIFYIN IKETHISSON IMATRONICS IMMEDIATEL INCECONFIR INCORPORAT INGREDIENT INSTRUCTIO INYLBIOHAZ IRRATIONAL ISSCHUCHUW ITTLEPRINC IVANKARAMA IVANTRUTHE KARAMAZOV0 KETHISSONG LASTDIVANT LBIOHAZARD LEPRINCECO LIGHTFULLY LIKETHISSO LITTLEPRIN MEONEBEATM METOTHESEU MIODDLYART MISSCHUCHU MMEDIATELY NCECONFIRM NCORPORATE NEBEATMETO NGREDIENTS NIMATRONIC NKARAMAZOV NPARALLELE NREASONABL NSTRUCTION NTRADICTIO NYLBIOHAZA O4THEDEPPR OBABLYAUTI OLDSMOBILE OMEONEBEAT ONEBEATMET ONTRADICTI OTHESEUSER OULIKETHIS OYOULIKETH PARALLELED PORTOBELLO PRESENTATI PRESSO4THE PRINCECONF PROBABLYAU QUEERMARZI RADICTIONS REASONABLY RECOMMENDE REMEMBERIN RESENTATIO RESSO4THED RINCECONFI ROACESIGMA ROBABLYAUT ROPHICALLY RRACUDA677 SACRIFICIN SEUSERNAME SO4THEDEPP SOMEONEBEA SSO4THEDEP STABLISHME STDIVANTRU STROPHICAL STRUCTIONS SULKYSTELL TABLISHMEN TASTROPHIC TBOYBEEBOP TDIVANTRUT THEDEPPRES THELITTLEP THESEUSERN TLEPRINCEC TMETOTHESE TOTHECHAOS TOTHESEUSE TRADICTION TRAINWRECK TROPHICALL TTLEPRINCE TUMBLRINAS TURTLENECK UEERMARZIP UGSDOTJPEG ULIKETHISS ULKYSTELLA UNPARALLEL UNREASONAB UUYASBONER VANKARAMAZ VANTRUTHER VINYLBIOHA XECUTIONER XPRESSO4TH YLBIOHAZAR YOULIKETHI 167/3656158440062976

11: 4THEDEPPRES AAAAAAAAAAA ACHIEVEMENT AMIODDLYART ANIMATRONIC ANKARAMAZOV AROACESIGMA ARRACUDA677 ASTDIVANTRU ASTROPHICAL ATASTROPHIC ATBOYBEEBOP ATMETOTHESE BABLYAUTISM BARRACUDA67 BEATMETOTHE BUGSDOTJPEG CATASTROPHI CATBOYBEEBO CECONFIRMED CHUUYASBONE CONTRADICTI DELIGHTFULL DIVANTRUTHE DOYOULIKETH EATMETOTHES EBEATMETOTH EBUGSDOTJPE EERMARZIPAN ELIGHTFULLY ELITTLEPRIN EONEBEATMET EPRINCECONF ESEUSERNAME ESSO4THEDEP ESTABLISHME ETOTHESEUSE EXECUTIONER EXPRESSO4TH HEDEPPRESSO HELITTLEPRI HESEUSERNAM HUUYASBONER IDENTIFYING IKETHISSONG IMMEDIATELY INCECONFIRM INCORPORATE INGREDIENTS INSTRUCTION INYLBIOHAZA ITTLEPRINCE IVANKARAMAZ IVANTRUTHER KARAMAZOV07 LASTDIVANTR LEPRINCECON LIKETHISSON LITTLEPRINC MEONEBEATME METOTHESEUS MISSCHUCHUW NCECONFIRME NCORPORATED NEBEATMETOT NIMATRONICS NKARAMAZOV0 NPARALLELED NREASONABLY NSTRUCTIONS NTRADICTION NYLBIOHAZAR O4THEDEPPRE OBABLYAUTIS OMEONEBEATM ONEBEATMETO ONTRADICTIO OTHESEUSERN OULIKETHISS OYOULIKETHI PRESENTATIO PRESSO4THED PRINCECONFI PROBABLYAUT QUEERMARZIP RECOMMENDED REMEMBERING RESENTATION RESSO4THEDE RINCECONFIR ROBABLYAUTI SACRIFICING SEUSERNAMES SO4THEDEPPR SOMEONEBEAT SSO4THEDEPP STABLISHMEN STDIVANTRUT STROPHICALL SULKYSTELLA TABLISHMENT TASTROPHICA TDIVANTRUTH THEDEPPRESS THELITTLEPR THESEUSERNA TLEPRINCECO TMETOTHESEU TOTHESEUSER TRADICTIONS TROPHICALLY TTLEPRINCEC UEERMARZIPA ULIKETHISSO UNPARALLELE UNREASONABL VANKARAMAZO VINYLBIOHAZ XPRESSO4THE YLBIOHAZARD YOULIKETHIS 121/131621703842267136

12: 4THEDEPPRESS AAAAAAAAAAAA ANIMATRONICS ANKARAMAZOV0 ASTDIVANTRUT ASTROPHICALL ATASTROPHICA ATMETOTHESEU BARRACUDA677 BEATMETOTHES CATASTROPHIC CATBOYBEEBOP CHUUYASBONER CONTRADICTIO DELIGHTFULLY DIVANTRUTHER DOYOULIKETHI EATMETOTHESE EBEATMETOTHE EBUGSDOTJPEG ELITTLEPRINC EONEBEATMETO EPRINCECONFI ESEUSERNAMES ESSO4THEDEPP ESTABLISHMEN ETOTHESEUSER EXPRESSO4THE HELITTLEPRIN HESEUSERNAME INCECONFIRME INCORPORATED INSTRUCTIONS INYLBIOHAZAR ITTLEPRINCEC IVANKARAMAZO LASTDIVANTRU LEPRINCECONF LIKETHISSONG LITTLEPRINCE MEONEBEATMET METOTHESEUSE NCECONFIRMED NEBEATMETOTH NKARAMAZOV07 NTRADICTIONS NYLBIOHAZARD O4THEDEPPRES OBABLYAUTISM OMEONEBEATME ONEBEATMETOT ONTRADICTION OTHESEUSERNA OULIKETHISSO OYOULIKETHIS PRESENTATION PRESSO4THEDE PRINCECONFIR PROBABLYAUTI QUEERMARZIPA RESSO4THEDEP RINCECONFIRM ROBABLYAUTIS SO4THEDEPPRE SOMEONEBEATM SSO4THEDEPPR STABLISHMENT STDIVANTRUTH STROPHICALLY TASTROPHICAL TDIVANTRUTHE THEDEPPRESSO THELITTLEPRI THESEUSERNAM TLEPRINCECON TMETOTHESEUS TOTHESEUSERN TTLEPRINCECO UEERMARZIPAN ULIKETHISSON UNPARALLELED UNREASONABLY VANKARAMAZOV VINYLBIOHAZA XPRESSO4THED YOULIKETHISS 86/4738381338321616896

13: 4THEDEPPRESSO AAAAAAAAAAAAA ANKARAMAZOV07 ASTDIVANTRUTH ASTROPHICALLY ATASTROPHICAL ATMETOTHESEUS BEATMETOTHESE CATASTROPHICA CONTRADICTION DOYOULIKETHIS EATMETOTHESEU EBEATMETOTHES ELITTLEPRINCE EONEBEATMETOT EPRINCECONFIR ESSO4THEDEPPR ESTABLISHMENT ETOTHESEUSERN EXPRESSO4THED HELITTLEPRINC HESEUSERNAMES INCECONFIRMED INYLBIOHAZARD ITTLEPRINCECO IVANKARAMAZOV LASTDIVANTRUT LEPRINCECONFI LITTLEPRINCEC MEONEBEATMETO METOTHESEUSER NEBEATMETOTHE O4THEDEPPRESS OMEONEBEATMET ONEBEATMETOTH ONTRADICTIONS OTHESEUSERNAM OULIKETHISSON OYOULIKETHISS PRESSO4THEDEP PRINCECONFIRM PROBABLYAUTIS QUEERMARZIPAN RESSO4THEDEPP RINCECONFIRME ROBABLYAUTISM SO4THEDEPPRES SOMEONEBEATME SSO4THEDEPPRE STDIVANTRUTHE TASTROPHICALL TDIVANTRUTHER THELITTLEPRIN THESEUSERNAME TLEPRINCECONF TMETOTHESEUSE TOTHESEUSERNA TTLEPRINCECON ULIKETHISSONG VANKARAMAZOV0 VINYLBIOHAZAR XPRESSO4THEDE YOULIKETHISSO 63/170581728179578208256

14: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA ASTDIVANTRUTHE ATASTROPHICALL ATMETOTHESEUSE BEATMETOTHESEU CATASTROPHICAL CONTRADICTIONS DOYOULIKETHISS EATMETOTHESEUS EBEATMETOTHESE ELITTLEPRINCEC EONEBEATMETOTH EPRINCECONFIRM ESSO4THEDEPPRE ETOTHESEUSERNA EXPRESSO4THEDE HELITTLEPRINCE ITTLEPRINCECON IVANKARAMAZOV0 LASTDIVANTRUTH LEPRINCECONFIR LITTLEPRINCECO MEONEBEATMETOT METOTHESEUSERN NEBEATMETOTHES O4THEDEPPRESSO OMEONEBEATMETO ONEBEATMETOTHE OTHESEUSERNAME OULIKETHISSONG OYOULIKETHISSO PRESSO4THEDEPP PRINCECONFIRME PROBABLYAUTISM RESSO4THEDEPPR RINCECONFIRMED SO4THEDEPPRESS SOMEONEBEATMET SSO4THEDEPPRES STDIVANTRUTHER TASTROPHICALLY THELITTLEPRINC THESEUSERNAMES TLEPRINCECONFI TMETOTHESEUSER TOTHESEUSERNAM TTLEPRINCECONF VANKARAMAZOV07 VINYLBIOHAZARD XPRESSO4THEDEP YOULIKETHISSON 51/6140942214464815497216

15: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ASTDIVANTRUTHER ATASTROPHICALLY ATMETOTHESEUSER BEATMETOTHESEUS CATASTROPHICALL DOYOULIKETHISSO EATMETOTHESEUSE EBEATMETOTHESEU ELITTLEPRINCECO EONEBEATMETOTHE EPRINCECONFIRME ESSO4THEDEPPRES ETOTHESEUSERNAM EXPRESSO4THEDEP HELITTLEPRINCEC ITTLEPRINCECONF IVANKARAMAZOV07 LASTDIVANTRUTHE LEPRINCECONFIRM LITTLEPRINCECON MEONEBEATMETOTH METOTHESEUSERNA NEBEATMETOTHESE OMEONEBEATMETOT ONEBEATMETOTHES OTHESEUSERNAMES OYOULIKETHISSON PRESSO4THEDEPPR PRINCECONFIRMED RESSO4THEDEPPRE SO4THEDEPPRESSO SOMEONEBEATMETO SSO4THEDEPPRESS THELITTLEPRINCE TLEPRINCECONFIR TMETOTHESEUSERN TOTHESEUSERNAME TTLEPRINCECONFI XPRESSO4THEDEPP YOULIKETHISSONG 41/221073919720733357899776

16: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ATMETOTHESEUSERN BEATMETOTHESEUSE CATASTROPHICALLY DOYOULIKETHISSON EATMETOTHESEUSER EBEATMETOTHESEUS ELITTLEPRINCECON EONEBEATMETOTHES EPRINCECONFIRMED ESSO4THEDEPPRESS ETOTHESEUSERNAME EXPRESSO4THEDEPP HELITTLEPRINCECO ITTLEPRINCECONFI LASTDIVANTRUTHER LEPRINCECONFIRME LITTLEPRINCECONF MEONEBEATMETOTHE METOTHESEUSERNAM NEBEATMETOTHESEU OMEONEBEATMETOTH ONEBEATMETOTHESE OYOULIKETHISSONG PRESSO4THEDEPPRE RESSO4THEDEPPRES SOMEONEBEATMETOT SSO4THEDEPPRESSO THELITTLEPRINCEC TLEPRINCECONFIRM TMETOTHESEUSERNA TOTHESEUSERNAMES TTLEPRINCECONFIR XPRESSO4THEDEPPR 34/7958661109946400884391936

17: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ATMETOTHESEUSERNA BEATMETOTHESEUSER DOYOULIKETHISSONG EATMETOTHESEUSERN EBEATMETOTHESEUSE ELITTLEPRINCECONF EONEBEATMETOTHESE ESSO4THEDEPPRESSO ETOTHESEUSERNAMES EXPRESSO4THEDEPPR HELITTLEPRINCECON ITTLEPRINCECONFIR LEPRINCECONFIRMED LITTLEPRINCECONFI MEONEBEATMETOTHES METOTHESEUSERNAME NEBEATMETOTHESEUS OMEONEBEATMETOTHE ONEBEATMETOTHESEU PRESSO4THEDEPPRES RESSO4THEDEPPRESS SOMEONEBEATMETOTH THELITTLEPRINCECO TLEPRINCECONFIRME TMETOTHESEUSERNAM TTLEPRINCECONFIRM XPRESSO4THEDEPPRE 28/286511799958070431838109696

18: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ATMETOTHESEUSERNAM BEATMETOTHESEUSERN EATMETOTHESEUSERNA EBEATMETOTHESEUSER ELITTLEPRINCECONFI EONEBEATMETOTHESEU EXPRESSO4THEDEPPRE HELITTLEPRINCECONF ITTLEPRINCECONFIRM LITTLEPRINCECONFIR MEONEBEATMETOTHESE METOTHESEUSERNAMES NEBEATMETOTHESEUSE OMEONEBEATMETOTHES ONEBEATMETOTHESEUS PRESSO4THEDEPPRESS RESSO4THEDEPPRESSO SOMEONEBEATMETOTHE THELITTLEPRINCECON TLEPRINCECONFIRMED TMETOTHESEUSERNAME TTLEPRINCECONFIRME XPRESSO4THEDEPPRES 24/10314424798490535546171949056

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glad that im not popular enough to have an evil shadow version of my blog that exists just to make contradictions on my posts

#max: 32

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lasvocesdelosotros · 2 years ago

Text

julio 2022

la palabra aletheia, “verdad”, que naturalmente ocupa un lugar central en el pensamiento de los filósofos griegos. El primero elemento de la palabra, a, es sin lugar a dudas un prefijo de negación (alpha privativum). El elemento anexo leth designa algo escondido, oculto, “latente” (esta palabra latina está emparentada con lenth), de forma que la verdad, por su significado literal, aparece —con Heidegger— como lo no escondido, no oculto, no “latente”. Pero como el elemento de significado leth aparece también en el nombre de Lethe, el mítico río del olvido, por la formación de la palabra aletheia se puede entender que la verdad es también lo “no olvidado” o lo “que no hay que olvidar”. De hecho el pensamiento filosófico de Europa, siguiendo a los griegos, buscó la verdad durante muchos siglos en el lado del no olvido, es decir, de la memoria y el recuerdo, y sólo en la Edad Moderna hizo el intento, más o menos titubeante, de otorgar también cierta verdad al olvido

Harald Weinreich

El olvido, oculto o yacente en las profundidades, es pues, por su naturaleza, oscuro; es el “tenebroso olvido” (Schiller), “el sombrío olvido” (Víctor Hugo). Incluso en campo abierto y a la luz del día, el olvido está oscurecido por nubes (Píndaro) o por la niebla (Jorge Semprún). Esto no tiene forzosamente que tener connotaciones negativas; también el suave crepúsculo fomenta el olvido cuando se anhela a éste, como sucede en unos versos inolvidables del “Nocturno” del poeta alemán Matthias Claudius:

Harald Weinreich

El mundo está tranquilo

Y envuelto en el crepúsculo

Tan familiar y amable,

Como cuarto silencioso

Donde el día penoso

Al sueño y olvido marche.

“Sueño” y “olvido” son en este poema casi sinónimos. De acuerdo con esto, también Paul Valéry escribió una vez: “Dormir es olvidar” (S'endormir c'est oublier). Por eso, no poder olvidar es comparable al insomnio; Nietzsche sufría de ambos. De ahí que traer a la memoria algo olvidado (en francés rappeler, “recordar”) equivale casi a la llamada al despertar.

Harald Weinreich

Entre los griegos, Lete es una deidad femenina, que forma pareja con su opuesta Mnemosine, la diosa de la memoria y madre de las musas. Según la genealogía y la teogonía, Lete procede de la estirpe de la Noche (en griego: Nix, en latín: Nox), pero yo no puedo por lo menos mencionar también el nombre de su madre. Es Éride, la Discordia (en griego Eris)... la oveja negra de esa familia. Sin embargo, la genealogía representa un escaso papel en la recepción de este mito, porque Leteo es ante todo el nombre de un río del infierno que otorga el olvido a las almas de los muertos. En esa imagen y ese mundo de imágenes, el olvido se sumerge por completo en el elemento líquido agua. Hay un sentido profundo en el simbolismo de esas aguas mágicas. En su suave fluir se disuelven los duros contornos del recuerdo de la realidad, y son de esa manera liquidados.

Harald Weinreich

la mnemotecnia antigua y medieval se puede decir — esto es visible ya como centro de gravedad de la anécdota de Simónides— que en principio la memoria está espacializada. Es pues en sustancia un “arte espacial” (topografía). El artista de la memoria que sigue el ejemplo de Simónides sitúa, como primer elemento para sus fines —en el caso de la retórica, siempre el discurso en público—, una constelación fija de “lugares” (en griego: topos, en latín: loci) que le son bien conocidos, por ejemplo, su casa o el foro. En esos lugares deposita en ordenada sucesión los distintos contenidos de la memoria tras haberlos transformado en “imágenes” ( en griego: phantasmata, en latín: imagines), si es que no lo son por naturaleza. Éste es el logro de su “imaginación” (en griego: phantasia, en latín: imaginatio). En su discurso, el artista de la memoria sólo tiene que recorrer mentalmente (en latín: permeare, pervagari, percurrere) la sucesión de lugares y evocar por orden las imágenes. Este arte se desarrolla siempre, por tanto, en un paisaje de la memoria, y en ese paisaje todo lo que ha de ser recordado de manera fiable tiene asignado un lugar. Sólo el olvido carece de lugar

Harald Weinreich

un día Simónides fue a ver a Temístocles y le ofreció enseñarle la mnemotecnia, de forma que con su ayuda “pudiera acordarse de todo” (tu omnia meminisset). Temístocles respondió que no necesitaba mnemotecnia alguna. Mejor que a recordar todo lo posible, prefería que le enseñara a olvidar lo que quería olvidar (gratius sibi illum esse factorum, si se oblivisci quae vellet, quam si meminisse docuisset). Según otra versión de la misma anécdota, Temístocles respondió escuetamente que no estaba interesado en un arte de la memoria sino en un arte del olvido (ars oblivionis).

Harald Weinreich

La muerte es el más poderoso agente del olvido. Pero no es omnipotente. Porque, desde siempre, contra el olvido en la muerte los hombres han levantado las murallas del recuerdo, de tal modo que las huellas que permiten seguir la memoria de los muertos pasan por ser, entre prehistoriadores y arque logos, los signos más seguros de la existencia de una cultura humana. Los rituales de culto a los muertos, con sus intercesiones, sacrificios y prendas funerarias, sirven sin duda en muchos casos, ante todo, para asegurar al fallecido un cierto bienestar en el más allá. Pero los monolitos funerarios siempre actúan también como “monumento”, advirtiendo a los vivos que no deben olvidar a sus muertos... o que deben olvidarlos progresivamente, porque “la vida sigue”

Harald Weinreich

la palabra aletheia, “verdad”, que

naturalmente ocupa un lugar central en el pensamiento de los filósofos griegos. El primero elemento de

la palabra, a, es sin lugar a dudas un prefijo de negación (alpha privativum). El elemento anexo lethdesigna algo escondido, oculto, “latente” (esta palabra latina está emparentada con lenth), de forma

que la verdad, por su significado literal, aparece —con Heidegger— como lo no escondido, no oculto,

no “latente”. Pero como el elemento de significado leth aparece también en el [p. 20] nombre de

Lethe, el mítico río del olvido, por la formación de la palabra aletheia se puede entender que la verdad

es también lo “no olvidado” o lo “que no hay que olvidar”. De hecho el pensamiento filosófico de

Europa, siguiendo a los griegos, buscó la verdad durante muchos siglos en el lado del noolvido, es

decir, de la memoria y el recuerdo, y sólo en la Edad Moderna hizo el intento, más o menos titubeante,

de otorgar también cierta verdad al olvido

Harald Weinreich

El olvido, oculto o yacente en las profundidades, es pues, por su naturaleza, oscuro; es el

“tenebroso olvido” (Schiller), “el sombrío olvido” (Víctor Hugo). Incluso en campo abierto y a la luz

del día, el olvido está oscurecido por nubes (Píndaro) o por la niebla (Jorge Semprún). Esto no tiene

forzosamente que tener connotaciones negativas; también el suave crepúsculo fomenta el olvido cuando

se anhela a éste

Harald Weinreich

como sucede en unos versos inolvidables del “Nocturno” del poeta alemán Matthias

Claudius:

El mundo está tranquilo

Y envuelto en el crepúsculo

Tan familiar y amable,

Como cuarto silencioso

Donde el día penoso

Al sueño y olvido marche.

“Sueño” y “olvido” son en este poema casi sinónimos. De acuerdo con esto, también Paul Valéry

escribió una vez: “Dormir es olvidar” (S'endormir c'est oublier). Por eso, no poder olvidar es

comparable al insomnio; Nietzsche sufría de ambos. De ahí que traer a la memoria algo olvidado (en

francés rappeler, “recordar”) equivale casi a la llamada al despertar.

Harald Weinreich

Leteo es ante todo el nombre de un río del infierno que otorga el olvido a las almas de los muertos. En esa imagen y ese mundo de imágenes, el olvido se sumerge por completo en el elemento líquido agua. Hay un sentido profundo en el simbolismo de esas aguas mágicas. En su suave fluir se disuelven los duros contornos del recuerdo de la realidad, y son de esa manera liquidados.

Harald Weinreich

Entre las notas a cuyo uso se había acostumbrado, Kant en apoyo de su memoria se encontró un papel en el que decía, de puño y letra de Kant: “El nombre de Lampe ha de ser totalmente olvidado”. De este hallazgo entre los papeles de Kant se asombra en extremo el albacea Wasianski, que percibe en la nota “un peculiar signo de la debilidad de Kant”... lo que por el contexto hay que entender como “senilidad”. Porque la anotación, añade Wasianski para explicar su apreciación, sirve, como es sabido, para que algo se conserve de manera fiable en la memoria, y no precisamente para olvidarlo. Forzar a la memoria a fomentar el olvido le parece al discípulo de Kant una contradictio in adiecto, que no se puede esperar de un profesor de lógica

Harald Weinreich

¿Qué logra pues o qué yerra la escritura al servicio del olvido, ancilla oblivionis?

Harald Weinreich

Ese debilitamiento se manifestó sobre todo en una disminución, primero incipiente y después en rápido progreso, de su memoria, que quizá, si los síntomas pueden ser aún hoy interpretados correctamente, pueda diagnosticarse avant la lettre como enfermedad de Alzheimer. Esa espléndida, inmensa memoria, que tantos motivos de elogio había dado en su vida anterior, se disolvía en la nada, y con ella el genio del “mayor filósofo de su tiempo” (Jachmann). Una imagen lamentable se ofrecía a los amigos, y Jachmann —profundamente conmovido por el hecho de que el amado maestro ya no le reconociera un día—

Harald Weinreich

¿No será quizá la nota de Lampe no recordatorio de un imperativo pragmático, sino expresión de la resignada entrega a la fatalidad del olvido, que cae sobre él implacable, y en cuya noche ahora ha de sumergirse?

Harald Weinreich

El guardián alimenta, con buenas palabras y una modesta cena, el deseo de vivir que está brotando, y cuando las dos mujeres han probado las comidas, también el amor comienza a brotar. No pasa mucho tiempo antes de que la vida de la hermosa viuda prosiga felizmente con su segundo marido, el guardián. Así, por una vez en la

literatura (con mucha más frecuencia en la vida), la comida y el olvido son aliados, y la vida, en alianza con ambos, ha vencido.

Harald Weinreich

El caso se plantea porque el pequeño Sansón cuida temeroso de que nadie mueva en su habitación ni el menor objeto. Porque, dice el narrador, “sus muebles y demás efectos le servían de ayuda, conforme a los preceptos de la mnemotecnia, para fijar en su memoria toda clase de datos históricos o frases filosóficas”. ¿Puede esto salir bien? No, si hay una criada que quiere limpiar. En ausencia del estudioso Sansón, saca resuelta un viejo baúl de la habitación y vacía además los cajones de su cómoda. Se produce la catástrofe para la memoria. Porque cuando el pequeño Sansón vuelve a casa, no halla nada en su sitio en el familiar paisaje de su memoria. Todo está confundido y olvidado: los datos de la historia asiria no menos que las pruebas de la inmortalidad del alma, trabajosamente recogidas y localizadas en buen orden en los cajones de la cómoda

Harald Weinreich

El doctor Luria acuña para estas estrategias, de forma paralela al bien conocido concepto de la “mnemotecnia”, el neologismo “letotecnia”, dando al río del olvido, Leteo, la patente lexicológica. La estrategia más importante, y a todas luces más exitosa, de este arte del olvido consiste paradójicamente, según el doctor Luria, en que Seresevski lleve al papel lo que quiere olvidar. A veces este truco es ya suficiente para borrar el correspondiente contenido de la memoria, y si no, el artista de la memoria convertido en artista del olvido rompe la nota escrita y tira los trozos de papel, o los quema. Esto parece en todo caso ser de utilidad. Es interesante que la escritura, a la que normalmente concedemos tan elevado papel para la memoria cultural e individual, se ponga aquí, dando un peculiar rodeo, al servicio del olvido.

Pero en nuestras consideraciones precedentes ya hemos que Platón entendía la escritura, incluso aunque no fuera destruida, como enemiga de la memoria natural.

Harald Weinreich

Son miles y miles comprándose y vendiéndose, cruzándose, relacionándose con la relación más habitual de los dos o tres mil últimos años —yo te doy algo, vos me das algo—, como en tantos lugares del planeta ahorita mismo. Solo que aquí lo que se vende se ha producido cerca y lo venden, en general, los que lo hicieron y, además, las vendedoras se visten diferente. El mercado de Chichicastenango es un refugio, un resto: de los mercados de antes de la unificación del made in China; de una cultura que el mundo se va tragando poco a poco.

Caparrós

El sistema es así: en el mercado existe —subsiste— un núcleo duro de mujeres que venden, como siempre vendieron, sus flores y pollos y frutas y verduras y tejidos, sus hechuras, y se visten como siempre se vistieron y hablan como siempre hablaron. Entonces hay personas de otros sitios que, atraídas por ese fenómeno en vías de desaparición, vienen para verlo. Entonces hay personas que, atraídas por la presencia y el dinero de esas personas de otros sitios, vienen para venderles otras cosas, sobre todo esos productos que, hechos cada vez más en serie, se venden porque se ven hechos a mano —y solemos llamar artesanías.

La artesanía y el turismo: quedarse con algo que te recuerde que estuviste en otra parte, que no siempre fuiste este en este escritorio, en este banco.

Caparrós

En el mercado de Chichicastenango pululan esas personas de otros sitios, los turistas. Ellos sí que saben: vienen porque les dicen cómo son las cosas. Lo leí en una de sus guías: «Si quiere conocer el verdadero espíritu de América Latina vaya al mercado de Chichicastenango». En esos días yo buscaba, por supuesto, el espíritu de América Latina, y decidí venir a verlo. La idea de un espíritu de jueves y domingo era inquietante, pero estaba dispuesto a soportarla. Más me inquietó, en realidad, que fuera este: un mercado marcadamente indígena en el país con mayor proporción de indígenas de América, con mayor proporción de campesinos de América, con mayor proporción de desnutrición y mortalidad infantil de la América hispana, con la violencia desatada. La decisión tan clara de pensar América Latina como el cliché de siempre.

Caparrós

Esto, claro, debe ser lo latinoamericano: tenemos un espíritu.

(Así se percibe: como un espacio silvestre peligroso o, en el mejor de los casos, uno donde deberían preservarse ciertas cosas que el resto del mundo occidental está perdiendo. Un espacio donde lo importante es conservar.)

Y me inquieta, siempre, en general, esa tendencia a suponer que lo auténtico es lo que hacíamos «antes» —antes de algún cambio, antes de alguna mezcla— y que lo que hacemos ahora es impuro y bastardo y que se debe buscar lo que quede de aquello allí donde se encuentre. Sobre todo, claro, en esas sociedades más o menos «primitivas».

Si alguien quiere saber cómo es «Europa» no piensa en ir a ver pastores de renos en Laponia o chicas traficadas en Moldavia o desocupados napolitanos en sus bloques de viviendas sociales pero a muchos se les ocurre venir a Chichi o ir al Cuzco para saber de «América Latina». El reparto de roles en la película global está bastante claro: los que van a París van a la torre Eiffel, gran momento de la máquina moderna, y en Nueva York se amontonan ante las pantallas de Times Square, técnica de punta, o en los malls de brillitos; los que vienen aquí buscan restos del pasado folkie. Y no es solo el turismo; en general, para muchos millones, a lo lejos, aquí lo auténtico es lo que ya no es; en otros sitios no cargan ese lastre.

Caparrós

Deberíamos serlo y no termina de sucedernos: somos nuestro fracaso de nosotros.

Caparrós

Pensamos que somos un fracaso permanente porque no somos lo que deberíamos, en lugar de pensar que esto es lo que somos.

Caparrós

Inventar patrias es, antes que nada, establecer diferencias entre tierras que eran una y la misma. Convencernos de que un argentino correntino que habla en guaraní es algo radicalmente distinto de un paraguayo que habla en guaraní y vive del otro lado del río, y debía incluso ir a la guerra contra él, cuando había guerras, o recordarlas y cantarlas cuando no. Y que un peruano que habla quechua en una orilla del lago Titicaca es enemigo de un boliviano que habla quechua en la otra. Y que un colombiano que habla el mejor castellano en Cúcuta debe pelearse y rechazar a un venezolano que habla tan parecido cruzando el puente en San Antonio —y así de seguido en todo el continente. Las naciones: el gran mito moderno. Sus fronteras.

(Hubo tiempos, tantos, en que no existían las fronteras porque no existían los países. Los límites se borroneaban, los espacios se confundían, los territorios se mezclaban. La frontera es otra de esas cosas que nos vendieron como eternas, naturales: como si no pudiera haber un mundo sin fronteras. Es falso: así fue la mayor parte de la Tierra durante la mayor parte de la historia.

Caparrós

(Pensemos la metáfora del coro: un coro es un conjunto de distintas voces que terminan por formar una voz.) O sea, la pregunta: qué es Latinoamérica, qué es ser latinoamericano. Parece una pregunta tonta, pero yo aprendí a respetar antes que nada las preguntas tontas. Creo que cuando uno llega a la pregunta tonta es que está empezando a abordar realmente la cuestión, está acercándose a algún núcleo. Y entonces esa pregunta, aparentemente tonta, resulta central. Todo consiste, entonces, en saber qué sería ser latinoamericano, o sea: qué, más allá de las patrias —esas diferencias tan laboriosamente construidas—, nos asemeja, nos une, nos reúne. Dicho sin vueltas: qué carajo tenemos en común.

Caparrós

En América Latina durante tres siglos no hubo patrias, porque un par de patrias lejanas la ocuparon. Y antes que eso no existía América. Mal o bien que nos pese, América como concepto es un invento de esa invasión: la invención de América.

Caparrós

De las venas abiertas de América Latina caía almíbar: ese almíbar amargo que te endulza la desgracia con el relato de injusticias que siempre fueron culpa de otros, ese almíbar amargo de sentirse víctimas.

Caparrós

Está claro que somos otros. Es obvio: nunca nadie es como lo ven, nunca nadie es como era. Pero hay grados, y es muy notorio que Ñamérica y sus habitantes hemos cambiado mucho en las últimas décadas, y ya no somos los que éramos: lo que muchos, distraídos, suponen que seguimos siendo. Somos otros.

Caparrós

De ahí una de sus paradojas más notorias: los ñamericanos viven en las ciudades pero, en general, buena parte de las riquezas de las que viven —animales, vegetales, minerales— vienen de tierra adentro, de la naturaleza. Ñamérica vive de ella, y hay quienes pueden, por eso, pensar en nuestras ciudades como parásitos de esos dones naturales; la realidad, como siempre, es más compleja. Pero sigue siendo cierto que vivimos de lo que crece o creció en la tierra, arriba, abajo.

Caparrós

#deshojadas

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eriyoko · 4 years ago

Photo

Say cheese!

#eri-yo's art #fanart #crash bandicoot #dr neo cortex #neo cortex #cortex #nina cortex

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a-z0-9-i-n-gram-completionist · 10 months ago

Text

1: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p r s t u v w y 33/36 (23/26) (10/10)

2: 00 01 02 10 11 12 13 16 17 19 23 34 36 41 51 68 85 ab ad ak al an ar at au av be bl bo bs bu by ca ch co cu de di dn do dr ea ec ed ee el en ep er es et ev fe fo ge gi ha he hi ho hu ib ic id ie ig ik il im in io is it iv ju ke kn ld le li ll lo lu ly ma mb me mi nc nd ne no nu oa of ol on or os ot ou ow pe po rd re ri rr rs rt ru ry se sh si so st su ta te th ti to tr ts ul um un ur us ut ve vi we ye yo 136/1296 (119/676) (17/100)

3: 000 001 100 102 119 123 136 234 341 412 abo abs ade ake all and are art ate aus ave bec bel ber ble bou bso bsu but can cau coa cul dic did dig div don dre eat eca eel eli ely enc epe ers ery eve evi fee fou get git hat hav his hou hun ibl icu idi iev igi ike ill ime ion isi its ivi jus kno ldn let lie lik lio lli lou lut mad mak mbe mes mil nch ndr not now num oat olu one orr ost oul oun our ous out pea pos red ren rep rid rry rte run sho sib sol sor sou sta sts sur tar ted tel tha the thi tim tre uld ulo umb und urd use ust ute ven ver vil vis yet you 140/46656 (130/17576) (10/1000)

4: 1234 2341 3412 4123 abou abso absu arte ated ause aven beca beli bers bout bsol bsur caus coat culo dicu digi divi dred eate ecau elie ench epea even ever evil feel four gits have houl hund ible icul idic ieve igit illi imes isib ivis just know liev like lion llio lous lute made make mber mill ndre numb olut orry osts ould ound peat post renc repe ridi rted shou sibl solu sorr soun star surd tart tely that this time tren uldn ulou umbe undr utel very visi 92/1679616 (88/456976) (4/10000)

5: 12341 23412 34123 41234 about absol absur arted becau belie bsolu bsurd cause culou dicul digit divis eated ecaus eliev epeat every haven hould hundr iculo idicu igits illio isibl ivisi lieve llion lutel mbers milli ndred numbe olute ouldn peate posts rench repea ridic shoul sible solut sorry sound start tarte times trenc ulous umber undre utely visib 59/60466176 (55/11881376) (4/100000)

6: 123412 234123 341234 412341 absolu absurd becaus believ bsolut culous diculo digits divisi ecause elieve epeate houldn hundre iculou idicul illion isible ivisib lutely millio number olutel peated repeat ridicu should solute starte tarted trench umbers undred visibl 38/2176782336 (34/308915776) (4/1000000)

7: 1234123 2341234 3412341 4123412 absolut because believe bsolute diculou divisib epeated hundred iculous idiculo ivisibl million numbers olutely repeate ridicul shouldn solutel started visible 24/78364164096 (20/8031810176) (4/10000000)

8: 12341234 23412341 34123412 41234123 absolute bsolutel diculous divisibl idiculou ivisible repeated ridiculo solutely 13/2821109907456 (9/208827064576) (4/100000000)

9: 123412341 234123412 341234123 412341234 absolutel bsolutely divisible idiculous ridiculou 9/101559956668416 (5/5429503678976) (4/1000000000)

10: 1234123412 2341234123 3412341234 4123412341 absolutely ridiculous 6/3656158440062976 (2/141167095653376) (4/10000000000)

11: 12341234123 23412341234 34123412341 41234123412 4/131621703842267136 (0/3670344486987776) (4/100000000000)

12: 123412341234 234123412341 341234123412 412341234123 4/4738381338321616896 (0/95428956661682176) (4/1000000000000)

13: 1234123412341 2341234123412 3412341234123 4123412341234 4/170581728179578208256 (0/2481152873203736576) (4/10000000000000)

14: 12341234123412 23412341234123 34123412341234 3/6140942214464815497216 (0/64509974703297150976) (3/100000000000000)

15: 123412341234123 234123412341234 2/221073919720733357899776 (0/1677259342285725925376) (2/1000000000000000)

16: 1234123412341234 1/7958661109946400884391936 (0/43608742899428874059776) (1/10000000000000000)

all of the numbers that are divisible by 17 sound so absurd. 51? 68? 85? ridiculous. 102? absolutely not. and don't even get me started on 119

#max: 16

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himemeika · 2 years ago

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G. Ghi/bli fest.....

#I fucking missed Pon/yo what's even the point /j #there are other good movies to air so it's okay. The C/at Ret/urns.. Ki/ki's Deliv/ery Ser/vice.. H/owl'#s Mo/ving Cast/le .. Spi/rited Aw/ay...#I wanna go but at the same time I don't. I dragged my boyfriend with me last time to watch HM/C igufigjg #I don't wanna keep forcing him to go with me plus it costs money I don't have </3 /lh #(if you read this hi ily 💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘)#anyway I'm just happy to see Th/e Ca/t Retu/rns in theaters tbh #it's such a cute movie I love it sooo much #and well animated. the character designs are so nice.#I hope this means they'll show Whis/per of the He/art next year bc it's one of my favorites #that and Ki/ki's Del/ivery S/erv/ice hit hard as a struggling student. They're such nice movies;;;;;;;#ah!! wait wait #this means h/ot to/pic will be selling a bunch of gh/ibli merch again. let's fucking goooo (flat broke)#sorry I talk too much. as if it's my fault. /lh gonna look at what they're selling now #.txt #Nick.txt #Vamppostz

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isivvywritting · 1 year ago

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Arte pa' tus ojos (historia chilena) Parte 1 1/2

Williams ríe estruendosamente ante alguno de los comentarios de sus amigos, aunque a ese punto no recuerda ni de cual. Su celular vibra en su bolsillo.

-Ay perdón, debe ser el Uber- Saca el celular y contesta la llamada- ¿Aló? ¿Cómo? ¿Cómo que no puede pasar para acá? ¿¡Una marcha!? No, no, pero no puede tratar de-- Ya…si no se preocupe, yo voy- Cuelga la llamada y mira a sus amigos con las cejas alzadas y una expresión de desagrado que nunca se daba el trabajo de ocultar- Les juro que si no hubiese pagado el Uber Black lo hubiese mandado a la punta del cerro- Trinidad, una de sus mejores amigas, ríe entre dientes.

-Ay Williams, ¿Qué pasó?

-El conductor dijo que no podía pasar para acá con el auto porque parece que había una marcha.

-Uh amigo ten cuidado, siempre andan esos flaites peleando con carabineros y rompiendo todo.

-Ay Trini no seas así, ya me asustaste- Su mirada pasa por sus dos amigos más grandes- ¿No me pueden acompañar?- Ellos miran a Will con escepticismo- ¡Ya po’! Oye Borja si fue por ti que vinimos a Baquedano al menos acompáñame al uber- Borja lo mira con una ceja arriba y niega la cabeza con exagerados manerismos.

-No niño, vinimos para celebrar MI cumple así que hago lo que quiero hoy día y ni loco me meto en una marcha.

-Uy pero por qué tenía que ser acá.

-Vi el bar en tik tok y estaba bueno, ya apresúrate que ya debe haber llegado el Uber- Williams se levanta de la mesa con un semi puchero, Trinidad lo mira con preocupación.

-Avisa cuando subas al Uber- Will asiente, toma sus cosas y comienza a caminar calle abajo.

Desde una cuadra antes se sentía el aroma a humo, el ruido, y el ardor en la nariz y los ojos provocados por las lacrimógenas, intenta aguantar la respiración e ingresa al sector a un lado de la plaza caminando rápido, aunque no puede evitar detenerse del impacto al ver un grupo de encapuchados lanzando piedras y botellas encendidas a los vehículos policiales, y la gente corriendo de los fuertes chorros de agua y de la policía antidisturbios.

Comienza a semi correr por la vereda intentando esquivar todo y a todos, pero los nervios le terminan ganando y ya no se esfuerza en mantener la calma, corre con velocidad, ya no miraba nada más que el final del camino, esperando poder llegar pronto. En ese momento siente un fuerte y duro golpe al costado del cuerpo que lo hace caer contra la cortina metálica de un negocio, apenas puede reaccionar, pero escucha la voz de un chico entre el ruido y el latido de su corazón que resonaba en sus oídos.

-¡Paco conchetumare’! ¡Sale de acá perro culiao!- Levanta la mirada y ve a un encapuchado sin polera amenazando con una gran roca al policía que lo había empujado con el escudo, a él se une un grupo que alejan al policía de Will- ¡Vira pa allá si no queri que te saque la chucha conchetumare’!- El grupo se dispersa y el chico que lo había defendido lo mira en el suelo- Levántate po’ weón, qué andai mirando- Will asiente nervioso y se levanta, se queda un momento de pie mirando al chico-¿Qué?

-Eh…nada, gracias.

-Pa’ eso estamos compadre- Will se dispone a seguir su camino cuando escucha a una chica gritar desde un grupo cercano a ellos.

-¡Cuidao’ con el guanaco!- Si no fuese por la mano que lo toma fuertemente por el brazo y lo empuja a un callejón, Williams no habría podido reaccionar y hubiese sido golpeado por el chorro de agua. Cuando se da cuenta de lo que acababa de pasar, se da cuenta también de la mano que aún lo sostiene por el brazo con fuerza y del sudoroso y descubierto torso que lo tiene acorralado contra una pared, sus mejillas se sonrojan ligeramente cuando mira hacia arriba y se encuentra con los ojos del hombre tras la capucha. Lo escucha reír bajo.

-No eri muy vivito, ah- Williams lo mira ofendido.

-Yo no ando metido en estas cosas po’

-Obvio que no, hay que mirarte no ma’, ¿Que andai haciendo entonces?

-Tengo que llegar a la calle de más abajo y tengo que pasar por acá porque tienen las otras calles cortadas.

-¿Andai solo? ¿No teni amigos?

-No quisieron arriesgarse a venir.

-Tshaa, con esos amigos…- Lo suelta del brazo pero le da un ligero golpe en el lugar- Oe’ yo te puedo acompañar, no te preocupi’

-¿En serio?

-Obvio po’- Se da dos exagerados golpes en el pecho- Guardia- Will ríe bajo.

-¿Guardaespaldas?

-La misma wea, vamo’- Hace como que recarga un arma imaginaria y avanza al lado de Will por la acera- ¿Cómo se llama mi protegido?- Will da una corta risita.

-Williams, ¿Y mi salvador?

-Bjorn.

-Bjorn, ¿Es nombre de los países bajos?

-Qué sé yo, mi ama lo sacó de una película creo- Llegan a una zona más despejada y bajan la guardia y la velocidad- Williams, y…¿Te dicen así o hay algo más corto? ¿Willy? Como el de la película de los chocolates.

-¿El de la…- Will ríe cálidamente cubriéndose la boca con la parte trasera de la mano- Will, prefiero Will, la verdad.

-¿Sí?- Will le sonríe- Wena. Mi nombre es cortito así que no hay pa' qué cortarlo más...aunque si me queri' decir bebé no me quejo- Will levanta las cejas en sorpresa y lo disimula al escuchar a Bjorn reír- O mi amor más pa adelante, o papito, aunque es medio raro, o--

-O Bjorn- Bjorn ríe airadamente.

-Sí, Bjorn también está bien.

-Oh…parece que ahí está mi Uber- Incluso con la capucha en la cabeza se nota la sorpresa de Bjorn al ver el auto de lujo esperando a Williams. El conductor se ve claramente asustado por la apariencia de Bjorn y baja la ventanilla hasta la mitad mirándolos.

-Wi…¿Williams?- Will levanta la mano.

-Sí, yo- Se acerca al Uber junto a Bjorn y lo mira con una, un poco vergonzosa, sonrisa- Bueno, ya me tengo que ir, muchas gracias por traerme, y por salvarme, obvio- Él solo asiente. Will se va a comenzar a subir al auto pero Bjorn lo toma del brazo antes.

-Oe', espera - Suelta a Will quien lo mira expectante- Eh, pucha discúlpame lo lanzao' ah, pero ¿Tení wassah'? Es que eri el medio mino y pareci super tela igual tonces no sé po', si queri salir a tomarnos una chelita, comernos un completito, conozco las medias picaas te lo juro, vai a quedar loco con la comía…y conmigo igual po', pa qué- Ríe airada y cortamente ante su propio chiste.

El corazón de Williams late con velocidad, era la primera vez en su vida que alguien le había pedido su número. Pero de pronto piensa en sus amigos, en su familia, y en qué pensarían si supieran de Bjorn, después de todo era un encapuchado del que el olor a desodorante en spray barato aún tenía prendido en la ropa desde aquel corto acercamiento. Mira ligeramente al conductor notando sus cejas alzadas y el ligero movimiento de lado a lado de su cabeza, como diciendo "dónde se está yendo esta juventud" o "menuda mala influencia para el chico, qué indecencia" o quizás esas sólo eran las voces de su familia resonando en su cabeza con comentarios ya hechos sobre otras relaciones, si eso decían de otras personas qué dirían si él saliera a comer con un "roto" como Bjorn.

-Está bien que hablemos un poco por educación y por gratitud pero ¿Por qué no te sacas la polera con hoyos de la cabeza y el olor a granja del cuerpo antes de creer que puedes tener algo con alguien como yo?- Bjorn retrocede unos pasos con el ceño fruncido.

-Oe qué wea, ¿Qué chucha te pasa Williams? Puta la wea que creí que erai diferente al resto, cuico culiao mal educao, olor a granja po', eri como el pico rusio culiao, no volvai a salir de tu cueva Willy Wonka y la conchetumare- Will se sube al Uber y este parte con velocidad- ¡Por esa wea tus amigos te dejan sólo, DOBLE CARA CULIAO!- Will mira por la ventanilla hacía atrás y ve a Bjorn levantando el dedo del medio en su dirección.

Williams suspira sintiendo el arrepentimiento y la culpa en lo profundo de su ser, saca el celular y envía un mensaje a su grupo de amigos.

“-Ya me subí al uber.

Trini: Que buenaa, a mí mi papi me vino a buscar en el auto así que ya voy llegando a la casa 😜

Borja: Yo me junté con el Leo pa ir a tomar.

-Yaa, tengan cuidado.”

Williams sigue pensando en Bjorn hasta que llega a su casa en Lo Barnechea, cruza el jardín y entra al salón, su mamá le sonríe desde el sofá donde tejía mientras veía televisión.

-¡Williams Nicolás, ¿Qué te trae por acá?!- Will ríe entre dientes, se sienta al lado de su mamá y la abraza apoyando la cabeza en su hombro- Uy mi bebito, que anda amoroso- Abraza a Will cariñosamente mientras le da cortos besos en la frente.

-Pero si yo sieempre soy así.

-Sí sé mi niño- Se quedan así un largo rato y su madre lo mira extrañada- ¿Te pasa algo Will?- Williams levanta la mirada.

-Ah no, no, ¿Por qué?

-No, que no me quiere soltar y subir a su pieza digo yo- Will niega con la cabeza mientras en la televisión empiezan las noticias y se ven imágenes de la marcha por la que había pasado- Ay mira Williams, es por allá donde andabas con los chiquillos.

-Ah sí, debe haber empezado después que me fui seguramente- Se levanta del sofá y se dispone a subir a su habitación pero se detiene al escuchar a su mamá.

-Will, que hueles rico oye, qué es ese perfume, ¿El Paco Rabbane?

-Ah, eh…sí, seguramente- Supiera su madre que como mucho debía ser Axe, y que no parecía querer desprenderse de su ropa.

Sube las escaleras y entra a su habitación, suspira al cerrar la puerta tras de sí. Se acerca a un largo espejo de pie a un lado de las puertas de su closet y se quita la camiseta delante de él, abre la boca en sorpresa al ver el costado de su brazo y de su torso rojos por el golpe que le habían dado, se toca ligeramente las zonas no atreviéndose a presionar más, se mira de frente con un ligero puchero antes de sacar una polera del closet y colocársela, termina de cambiarse de ropa a algo más casual para ir por su casa, pone algo de música y se acuesta sobre la cama mirando al techo, sintiendo el peso de todo lo que había ocurrido ese día, y más que físico, siente el peso de la culpa por haber tratado así a Bjorn, aunque le gustaba pensar que no, debía admitir que era igual que sus padres en ciertos aspectos, le daba mucha importancia al qué dirán y él también tenía sus prejuicios, incluso sintió vergüenza de que el conductor de Uber lo viese hablando con Bjorn. Pero que Bjorn fuese un "flaite" no le daba derecho a tratarlo así, en especial cuando lo había ayudado. Toma su celular y comienza a llamar.

"-¿Hola?

-Hola Trini, ¿Estás en tu casa ya?

-Sí, sí, ya estoy en casita, hace rato.

-¿Estás sola?

-Sí amigo, ¿Pasó algo?

-Aay Trinii me siento super culpablee

-¿Por qué? ¿Qué pasó?

-Siempre me quejo de que estoy soltero, que ni un mino me pesca y cuando uno me pide mi número--

-A veeerrr, ¿Te pidieron tu número? ¿Cómo es eso?

-Pero te cuento porque eres mi mejor amiga no más ah, no le cuentes a nadie más.

-Te lo juro.

-Ya, resulta que el conductor de Uber tenía razón y había la media marcha en la plaza

-Sí, algo ví en la tele.

-Y yo intentaba no ir muy asustado pero pucha al final terminé corriendo lo más pegado a la pared que podía pero parece que por lo mismo un carabinero me confundió con algún flaite- Escucha a Trinidad inspirar profunda y exageradamente en sorpresa.

-¡Te llevaron preso! ¿Me estás llamando desde tu celda?

-¡No! Pero me pegó con el escudo ese plástico y me botó al piso.

-¡Au!

-Sí, todavía tengo todo rojo, pero en fin, en eso llega él.

-¡Uy, él!

-Lo escucho como entre la conmoción gritándole puros garabatos al carabinero y…ay no me juzgues Trinidad, si hubieras visto todo desde mis ojos…levanto la mirada y veo a ese hombre, con la polera tapándole la cabeza y el torso brillando al sol, defendiéndome.

-Aaaahhh Williams, pero pero ¿Era flaite flaite?

-Flaite…hablaba flaite, olía flaite- Dice mientras juega inconscientemente con la chaqueta que aún olía a Bjorn entre sus manos- Y me ayudó a llegar hasta el Uber.

-Qué boniiito, servicial el niño ah, y tú igual, yo que tú ni loca me voy con alguien cómo él, discúlpame.

-No si al principio igual me dió cosa pero dije bueno, ya me ayudó una vez.

-¿Cómo se llamaba?

-Bjorn

-Uhh nombre poco común ah, si lo buscas en instagram igual lo encuentras- Will ríe para sí mismo

-No creo que tenga…y tampoco creo que quiera hablar conmigo.

-¿Por qué?

-Cuando llegamos al Uber él me pidió mi número, me dijo que podíamos salir a comer o algo y…ohhh que terrible, weona, me dió cosa porque pensé en qué diría mi familia o incluso ustedes, no tú pero los chiquillos, y le dije que no pero super mal, lo traté pésimo.

-¡Pero Williams! ¿Qué hizo él?

-Se enojó po' , me dijo doble cara y otros insultos más antes de que me fuera en el Uber.

-Pucha Williams, bueno, las cosas pasan por algo--

-Sí, porque soy hueón.

-Yaa pero Will, mira, mañana tengo una fiesta de la pega de mi papá y no quiero ir sola, ven conmigo po' van a haber puros viejos con plata por si te queri sacar las ganas del flaite ese.

-¡Trini!- La escucha reír estruendosamente- Ya oh, ¿Mañana en la noche?

-Sí, te pasamos a buscar en el auto con mi papá, es formal así que arregla ese outfit tempranito que te conozco, eres capaz de estar decidiendo tres horas entre dos camisas blancas iguales- Will ríe entre dientes- Oye oye ¿Qué es eso que escucho de fondo?

-¿Música?

-¿¡Música romántica!? Ay Williams que eri dramático, no hablaron ni por cinco minutos, ya, chao, pon algo más alegre.

-Yaa chao, gracias."

Will deja el celular a un lado un momento y se acuesta sobre la cama, la luz dorada del cielo entraba por su ventana, lo que de alguna manera dramática y muy peliculera para él, lo hacía sentir peor, sube el volumen de la música y se queda por un largo rato con la chaqueta de aquella tarde sobre el pecho, sintiendo de vez en cuando el aroma a Bjorn que no le parecía nada menos que cautivante.

-¡Williams baje a cenar!- Resuena la voz de su madre desde el piso de abajo, Will se pone de pie, apaga la música y sale de su habitación, baja la escalera y entra al comedor, se sienta en la gran mesa vacía frente a su plato, su madre se sienta cerca de él- Mira ah, como la nana anda de vacaciones ya he aprendido a cocinar hartas cosas yo- Will sonríe, feliz por su madre a pesar de ser la tercera vez consecutiva que comían fideos con salsa, Williams mira a su madre cuando se sienta.

-¿Y el papá?

-Ah, está en el estudio, está trabajando, no sé si quiera venir.

-¿Lo voy a buscar?

-Como quieras, lindo- Will se pone de pie y camina hasta la oficina de su padre, toca la puerta un par de veces.

-Pasa pasa- La abre lentamente, su padre lo mira desde el escritorio- Ah Willy no sabía que ya habías vuelto, sinceramente pensé que te ibas a quedar más tiempo allá.

-Ah, sí sí, pero mejor me vine temprano porque había una marcha por ahí y--

-¡Ah, comunistas culiaos, quieren todo gratis los flaites de mierda!

-…La cena está servida- Su papá suspira, echa una mirada a su computador y vuelve a mirar a Williams.

-Tengo que terminar esto, no creo que pueda.

-Bueno- Va a cerrar la puerta cuando vuelve a escuchar la voz de su papá.

-¿Tu mamá hizo fideos de nuevo?- Will asiente- Ojalá que la nana vuelva luego- A pesar de que siente la ira quemándole el pecho, Will solo sonríe y cierra la puerta antes de bajar, sabía que su mamá se estaba esforzando y le enfadaba que su padre nunca quisiera ver más allá de su nariz.

Luego de cenar, se encuentran conversando plácidamente cuando Will recuerda lo que había acordado con Trinidad.

-Ah, mamá, Trini me invitó a una fiesta mañana en la noche, es que tenía que acompañar a su papá a una de su trabajo y para no ir sola y aburrirse me invitó a mí.

-Super pues Will, aproveche su añito libre para salir y disfrutar con sus amigos- Will asiente.

-Me van a pasar a buscar en auto así que todo arreglado.

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