#he becomes less bugs as the series goes on

[therookinyellow]

You know it's a good show when it actually makes me finish a piece of art and put it online.

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: A voice calls to you.

Author's Note: Set around two weeks after the ‘earthquake’ and is canon-compliant except there is no Eddie in 1986. This fic takes a couple of chapters to get going, so stay with me. I am SO excited about this, and I think you will love where it goes.

1986

The colony screeched and swooped, taking off into the inky dusk sky with graceless chaos. Each bat had stretched their wings and dropped from their forest dwelling to join the trilling and flapping. Only one remained.

He perched high in the treetops, an unwillingness to join the others that was not typical for a bat. Impossible for a bat, depending on who you asked. He observed the night grow darker with an entirely unnatural sense of understanding.

Eventually, he would fall from the branch and join the others in the hunt for moths and wasps, beetles and bugs. The hunger would drive him to it, yet the hunger could never be satisfied. It had been like that for one hundred and fifty years.

He was the oldest in the colony and couldn’t remember being young. He couldn’t remember reveling in warm nights or cicada season. He felt as if he had always haunted the forest and always would. He felt, and that was the problem.

The other bats did as all Eptesicus fuscus did. They were born into a colony around April and spent a month nursing from their mothers. The pups grew up, hibernated in the winter, mated, and bared the next generation, ultimately living a short life, just shy of a decade at best.

This bat did not. He did not hibernate alone or with others. When they found warmth and shelter in dilapidated buildings, under tree bark, or in caves, he remained a presence on the boughs of the forest’s tallest trees. He did not mate and did not father. He did not fly patterns across the sky while the town below slept. He ate to survive and continued to live well beyond his species’ dictated years. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He watched over Hawkins, Indiana for over a century. With each passing year, things would change. Slowly, the wilderness had been reduced to clusters of wooded areas by modernisation and industrialisation. It was becoming more and more common for the bats to come into contact with humans. A vast majority of the time, the people screamed and ran, terrified of disease or spooked by urban legends. Some marveled at the bats with respectful awe. Some tried and failed to catch the needle-teethed things for sport. Mostly, they were left alone to mind their own bat business, and mostly, that’s what the ageless bat did.

It wasn’t until mid-nineteenth century that the bat sensed a deep and profound shift. The Lab was built and the earth suffered. The bat had an ariel view and echolocation, but he couldn’t know what happened within the walls. Decades passed and the mystery continued. By 1983 though, he knew his kind wasn’t the only nightmare fuel in the woods.

1984. 1985. And, in 1986 the ground split open, spilling the Upside Down into Hawkins. An earthquake, reported the news. The sixth sense innate in all animals knew better Deers, birds, and bees all migrated out of pattern. The colony of bats entirely disappeared one night, having feared the vibrations pulsating from the cracks in the earth.

Only one remained, an unshakable and quite possibly magical force tethering him to Hawkins.

…

“That town is no place for a witch,” came the warning. “Something is still wrong with Hawkins. Can’t you sense it?”

Infamous in Indiana, Hawkins was the place where buildings burnt and people went missing with threefold outcome. One: they were never seen again. Two: returned, but at what cost? Three: bodies found, so disfigured by unseen violence that it was hard not to believe in monsters.

When the streets fell apart in 1986, sending part of the town down into hell, it would have been fair for Hawkins to lose what remained of their resolve. Yet, the town would go on to rebuild, and between the freshly poured concrete and funeral services, a battle was fought in secret.

“A doorway was opened. They may not claim victory,” came another warning with a beg to heed.

Yes, it would be the fight of their lives, but it wasn’t for a witch to interfere with. That was a hard line in the sand of magic that even you would not cross. They called him Vecna, but you had no name for him. His sorcery was not of the natural world. To let him know of yours would be to risk it all.

There was more to you than witchcraft, however. Hawkins was a town in crisis, and there was space for you to help and heal.

“It’s not just him,” cried a third and final warning. “The ground is consecrated,”

“That’s old superstition,” you dismissed.

“So is blood moon bad luck, but look what happened last time. And falling brooms, broken mirrors, and circles of salt. We are superstition. There are some places witches should not go.”

Your mind was set and your path clear. “Something is calling me there. Doesn’t that have meaning?”

“Not all callings are sanctified,”

“Do we fear holiness or not?” you asked. “I can’t walk consecrated ground but should only show devotion to the sanctified calls?”

There was no answer.

You sighed and softened your voice. “Look, I know you mean well. All you do is out of love. I know that. But, I need to do this. It’s… I don’t know… So real. The calling. It almost has a voice,”

“The timing,” was offered as a reminder.

The first time you felt something coming from Hawkins was when the quote unquote earthquake happened. A catastrophic event like that had to have more consequences than just Vecna, you thought. It could have shifted other magic and natural musings.

“I’ve made up my mind,” you stated with boldness beyond your rank in the coven.

“Are you so willing to discount lore?”

“Folklore. It’s 1986. I know witchcraft isn’t a science, but you have to give me more credit than that. We don’t have to listen to every whisper on the wind and take for gospel the tea leaves in our cups… Nuances, you know?”

Your eyes stayed closed and your hand gripped the pen tightly, waiting for a reply to be sprawled out on the page. When nothing more came, ‘Are you so willing to discount lore?’ the last words scribbled in a handwriting not your own, you breathed out hard.

Automatic writing took a lot of energy out of you, but it was the best method of speaking to The Witches Who Came Before. Reading back their psychographic warnings, you felt a small sense of guilt over defying them, but more than guilty, you felt empathy for a town so beaten by evil over and over.

Hawkins was calling.

…

Aid workers, distressed families, and reporters had flooded the small town, making it all the more easy for you to slip by the city limits unnoticed. Although you weren’t sure what should or could be noticing you, there was still a small exhale of relief when you didn’t burst into flames as you drove passed the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign.

The voice calling you to the town hadn’t been polite enough to give specific instructions. In lieu of directions or coordinates, you drove along roads that appeared to be out of the path of the earthquake, finding your way to a bar called The Hideaway.

Inside, patrons sat around watching their town on the news while staff rushed to cook food and package it up for the crisis centers.

“Bit of a wait on food, honey,” a waitress called to you.

“Just after a Coke.”

It seemed uncanny for a bar to be operational in the middle of an emergency, but it also befit a town so used to death. You took your can of Coke from the waitress, left a ten on the counter, and made your way around the tables to get to the noticeboard on the other side of the room.

Lost dogs. Swimming classes. Babysitters for hire. Then, your eyes landed on it.

1BR TRAILER. PARTLY FURNISHED. WATER/ELECTRICITY. NEEDS REPAIR. CHEAP. CALL: FOREST HILLS TRAILER PARK. 312-683-1192.

Maybe it had already been volunteered to home displaced people, but you trusted it was worth a shot. “Hey, can I borrow your phone?” you asked the waitress, walking to the bar and leaning on it. She nodded and dumped the old rotary phone in front of you.

After four rings, “Forest Hills,”

“Ah, hey. I saw your flyer. About the one-bedroom. Is that still available?”

The woman made a scoffing sound. “Apparently beggars can be choosers. Ain’t nothing wrong with that trailer but Red Cross said it ain’t fit for people. On account of the mold, they said.” Her voice was gravelly from a pack a day, but she didn’t sound unkind.

“I don’t mind mold,”

“Guess it’s available then.”

…

The bat had never known illness or injury. Whatever was killing the trees though, had touched him. He didn’t wither and die like other flora and fauna, but he wasn’t unscathed. It was as if he was burnt from the inside out, a mark on his feet spreading slowly but surely.

The sensation was unpleasant at first, but grew more noxious. His wings wouldn’t stretch their full span, and he could only glide small distances. The bat found a small patch of trees not yet turned to ash, settling in at the base of one, hiding under brush for warmth.

It was a fine place to die, if that should be his fate. He was where he belonged.

…

Forest Hills Trailer Park had been subdivided again and again; any spare patch of land was used for caravans and tents of people left homeless or those coming to watch the disaster unfold.

The one-bedroom trailer Michelle, manager of the park, gave you the keys to was indeed in need of repair. There were air vents that sat wide open, the outside cold seeping through. Dark mold grew in the corner of the bedroom’s ceiling. And the carpet should have been replaced years prior.

The very first thing you did once alone in your new home was ring a small bell you kept in your bag. Three shrill rings for good fortune. For everything else, you’d need supplies.

The local general stores would likely be low on stock, and the shopping mall had burnt down only a year ago. It stood in ruin, yet to be redeveloped. Before you ventured to the shops, you decided to take a short walk around Forest Hills and the surrounding land to see what could be foraged.

As you passed people, some looked you up and down, Satanic Panic clouding their perception of anyone they considered to be different from themselves, to be ‘other’ in any way. Some neighbours though, waved and offered a friendly greeting. “Michelle con you into that old trailer?” one asked, to which you politely faked a laugh.

Out beyond the trailers and RVs was a patch of land that seemed unaffected by everything happening in the town. The trees soundproofed the space, making it feel miles away from civilisation. While there wasn’t much in the way of edible mushrooms and plants, nor things needed for your craft, you sensed an undercurrent of magic there.

Crouching down, you picked up a golden leaf, twirling it between your fingers. Close, you thought, but didn’t know what it meant.

It was then you saw it out of the corner of your eyes. Something moved under the tree near you. Small. An animal. A rabbit, maybe? Rats or opossums or a trash-stealing raccoon?

Slowly, you sat down on the forest floor, cross-legged and facing the tree. You would wait until the animal revealed itself on its own terms.

The bat was so weak he could hardly move. He tried to hide away from the human that was watching him, but he couldn’t. When he resigned to his position, he let his vision focus on you.

You weren’t surprised to see the bat. The feeling was relief, like you’d found a missing thing. It was clear something was wrong with the creature though. “Do you need help?” you asked it.

Still slowly, you scooted closer to the bat. There were no obvious signs of injury. His brown fluffy body was free from blood or gore. Perhaps he had torn a wing or flown into a tree.

“I can help,” you whispered, holding a hand out flat to the ground. The tips of your fingers were close enough to the bat that he could bite if he wanted to, or he could shuffle forward into the softness of your hand.

Whatever compelled the bat to never leave Hawkins, compelled him to fall onto your palm.

“Hi,” you greeted, bringing your hand to your chest and holding the bat safely between your hands. “What’s happened?”

The bat was a common species; you recognised him as the aptly named big brown bat. His body was the size of a baseball, and some of his colouring was wrong. His legs and arms would normally be pink, but they were a sickly black colour. It looked like his brown fur was beginning to turn too.

“Did you eat something bad? Accidentally poison yourself?”

The bat, of course, did not answer your questions. You looked around the trees for other lost animals or any sign of something that may have caused your new friend to become sick. When there were no answers there either, you stood and took the both of you back to the trailer.

…

Destiny and a little folly may have led you to Forest Hills and the one-bedroom trailer, but you had come to Hawkins prepared nonetheless. In your car, there were supplies to ensure if you’d had to sleep there for a couple of nights, you could. The bat would benefit from your readiness.

The sleeping bag you’d packed was turned into a soft nest for him. “Alright, let’s get you warm,” you whispered, placing him in the middle. He shuffled on the spot for a few moments before settling, his brown eyes still watching you.

When you offered him a piece of banana, he nibbled at it.

When you gingerly stroked his fur, he let you.

Still, there was something about the way the bat watched you, something in his reaction to your movements. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was most definitely curious.

“Alright, my furry friend. We need provisions. Especially if there’s gonna be two of us.” You spoke to him as you pulled your jacket on and grabbed your bag. “Please be here when I get back. I promise I can help you.”

…

It was dark when you returned home. Stores were staying open late to receive interstate deliveries and provide goods to the in-need townspeople, so you managed to get most things on your list.

Inside the trailer was cold, the spring air outside not yet filtered with summer’s coming warmth. You checked on the bat, ensured he was still cosy in his nest. Then, you got to work.

After soap and scrubbing did its part and the mold was attacked with vinegar and bleach, you boarded up the vents and added repairing them properly to your to-do list. In the bedroom, the bed was covered in fresh linen while you dreamed of a brand new mattress.

The only other furniture in the so-called ‘partly furnished’ trailer was a couple of bar stools at the kitchen bench, a televisionless television stand, a couch in surprisingly good condition, and a coffee table that sat a little too low to the ground.

Next, you took a ritual learned from your sisters whilst in India and let milk and rice boil over on the stove for prosperity and abundance. From time spent in Lowcountry, you observed the practice of painting your porch blue. The trailer didn’t have a porch, but the doorframes would suffice. It would ward off evil spirits, as would the salt ring you ran around the home. Finally, mugwort and sweetgrass smudged through the space, cleansing and claiming it as your own.

By the time you were finished, it was almost midnight and your stomach growled obscenities. The bat had been nibbling on the fruit you’d offered, but you’d not eaten since the morning.

After two cups of noodles and a cup of white jasmine tea, you unpacked the small cat bed you’d purchased for the bat. You relocated him into it, still with the sleeping bag, and pushed it under your bed. He’d like it in the dark, you thought.

Skipping a shower, you changed into pajamas and got into bed. Sleep came quickly, perhaps quicker than it had in decades. You dreamt that night. Of darkness. Of blood. Of screaming. Nothing coherent, nothing recognisable. Just an ominous feeling that you were going to find what you were looking for, ready or not.

End Note: Reblogs and comments are so appreciated. Like I said, it will take a couple of chapters for you to fall in love, but I promise you will.

If you are interested in the witchcraft in the story, check out The Grimoire. It will be updated with each chapter!

Fic Taglist: @kaitebugg03 @paranoidmunson @amira0303 @munsonsbait @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @stardustmunson @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24 @mel-the-fangirl

[prince-liest]

I just wanna gush bc omg I love the 666 series so much. I think it made me realize I might be... furry-ish? adjacent? I just find it so satisfying how you go into detail about the unique body features of both of them, the way it feels to have deer ears or kiss a TV and just generally how much thought is put into the way their bodies work, and I've realized that my interest in that kind of idea is a pretty good reason to partake in more explicitly furry media lmao. Anyways

I'm also really in love with how you maintain the balance of each of their personality traits. Vox is simultaneously so pathetic and cringefail (also your dialogue for him is perfect, I can hear it crystal clear in my head) but also he has vastly more emotional intelligence than Alastor, no doubt at least in part because he has to deal with Val, and he's able to marginally calm down with his obsession to deal with sticky situations, but even then he still retains his personality and bumbles things sometimes because of the flaws in said personality! It's great. I also really appreciate the balance you've struck with Alastor, I feel like often Alastor is either written to either soften up so immediately that it feels disconnected from his character or is written overly mean and heartless for my liking and the way you've written him is such a delicious balance between softer aspects such as the prey instincts or moments of vulnerability and his untouchable and manipulative self, and also the way this side of him is neither written as wholly a front or wholly his real nature and the complex ways this makes him struggle with his increasing vulnerability. TL;DR arghgr your characterization is so good it makes me go a little feral

Also while I'm here, I'm curious whether you can give an answer to the degree to which Alastor is touch-averse. There's obviously a lot of ways in which he fundamentally dislikes touch but it also seems like there's at least some kinds of touch where he doesn't dislike the touch itself so much as he's afraid of the way it brings about feelings of caring and/or enjoyment being cared for. I'm curious how much, in general, you would say his touch aversion comes from either cause and possibly what kinds of touch do/don't provoke those flavors of aversion

Omg, what a lovely ask to receive. Honestly, everything you said that you enjoy about how I characterize these two is very much what I've been actively gunning for, so it's an absolute delight to see it outlined back to me. Success!!! Thank you so much!

And ahaha - I'm not a furry but I fucking love inhuman characters. Being raised in the pits of Homestuck fantroll RP made me enjoy the whole "they're bug/fish aliens" thing and it definitely rears its head again any time I encounter characters with inhuman qualities. I love writing Vox's TV/computer-ness and Alastor's deer and radio bits, and integrating them into who they now are as people.

As for Alastor's touch-aversion: It's funny that you ask about this, because the next chapter of 666 is going to dive into it a bit. Specifically into the fact that it's not, like, a set of boundaries that is consistently defined, and I write him that way on purpose. The very first time he and Vox sleep together, Alastor bottoms. He becomes significantly less amenable to touch after he goes through an uncomfortable rut cycle that gets sexual. By the time Vox convinces Alastor to fuck him, Alastor would never let Vox do that again and frankly only agrees to topping because Vox gave him an option that didn't involve getting his dick out. Then in the next episode, they're having clothes-off sexual contact. So, what gives?

Things that play into Alastor's willingness to touch and be touched as far as Vox is concerned:

How does he see Vox at that point in time? Disgustingly entitled (ew)? Hilariously beneath him (haha who cares)?

Does he care about what Vox thinks of him? Does Vox touching him draw his attention to positive or negative assumptions he has about Vox's perspective on doing so?

What value has he attached to this particular touch in the power balance of their relationship? Is he humoring Vox? Does he assume Vox thinks he's owed this? Does he perceive it as something Vox is genuinely doing for him?

Has he tried this particular kind of touch before? He's pretty willing to experiment, but that doesn't mean he'll do something twice without a compelling reason if he didn't like it the first time.

Is he getting off on this situation sexually? If so, is it fully willing (read: not a byproduct of uncomfortable hormones) on his part? That only really happens when he's in a submissive role and Vox is hitting a few very specific kinks, a major one of which is basically CNC tilted 30 degrees to the left.

Is he enjoying the touch in platonic ways? How does he feel about that? Is it a vulnerability to want something? Is it feeding his ego to be catered to? Is he worried that what he enjoys platonically is being read into in ways he doesn't like?

Is he fucking drunk? Things that bother you when sober often seem like a non-issue when you're not, both on a physical and emotional level.

How much touching has been happening recently? Has he hit his limit? Did he deliberately put himself into a situation earlier to have his limit be hit and surpassed, and now he's in the aftermath?

He does have a certain fundamental purely physical dislike of touch, but it's something that is really affected by how he perceives each individual situation as well as his relationship with Vox at that time, and his previous experiences!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Do you Trust me?"

Rollo voice) no

I feel like Rollo’s going to become a puddle of angry goo (think like a freshly salted slug) by the end of this series of headcanons…

A Big Scarabia Welcome to Rollo!

Savanaclaw’s weather was already bad enough, but Scarabia is 100 times worse. When Rollo hikes his way to the entrance of the grand dormitory (just a short stroll from the mirror), he looks like he’s about to give way to heat stroke if he doesn’t drown in his own sweat first.

He’s graciously received and personally welcomed by Kalim’s open arms (Jamil at his side) and just about the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. Rollo doesn’t sense any immediate ill will behind it (unlike the majority of the despicable mages that infest NRC), but he’s unsettled all the same by Kalim’s intense friendliness. When the Scarabian dorm leader goes in for a hug, Rollo politely steps back and declines (citing his excessive dampness as an excuse).

“Oh, you’re right! You’re not used to this kind of weather back home, huh? Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you!! Come on in! You’re today’s guest of honor!” Kalim beams, cheerfully ushering Rollo inside. Jamil follows quietly, but is staring intently at Rollo all the while—this man still remembers everything Rollo did, and he’s harboring a deep-seated grudge.

Kalim starts off the visit with a big tour of Scarabia! He forgets a lot of the finer details, so Jamil has to fill him in on the architecture and history of the dorm as he supplies them with water. (Kalim pauses to call out to and greet mob students as they pass.)

At first, Rollo’s impressed by the spread of knowledge provided—but the more he sees of Scarabia, the more disgusted he grows of its gross opulence. All the gold and jewels in the storage room could feed the entire City of Flowers for a lifetime and then some!!

The flippant way Kalim talks about his lifestyle also grates on Rollo. Who in the world places orders 100 coconuts for themselves, then buys diamonds for his entire dorm as souveinirs? Why does Scarabia have such frequent banquets and parties? How can one man live in such excess and not feel once ounce of remorse for it?! It boggles the mind.

“Hey, you must be hungry from your trip! Let’s put some food in you!!��� Kalim summons a feast with the wave of his hand (Jamil had been up all night and all that morning preparing it). “Thank you, but just a nibble is enough for…” Rollo is interrupted by Kalim shoving some grapes into his mouth. “Ooh, you have to try this! Oh, and this too! And this cheese…!”

At one point, Kalim offers an apple slice with an ant on it, which causes Jamil to lock up. He screeches in disgust when Rollo casually kills the ant by squishing it under his thumb, then proceeds to take out a few others lying in wait. (“You touched bugs with your bare hands!!” Jamil cries, looking like he’s going to be sick any moment now. To this, Rollo retorts, “I should like to see you come up with a better solution!”)

After (force) feeding Rollo, Kalim tells him he has “a surprise” in store, which makes Rollo’s stomach sink. The dorm leader runs off, telling Rollo not to move from the spot. Left alone with Jamil, he warily eyes the man (who has been strangely standoffish the whole time). Jamil meets his gaze coolly. “… I didn’t tell him,” he says simply.

“To shield his poor little heart from breaking?” (Jamil shakes his head. “No, this isn’t about his feelings. I could care less about them. Kalim would only be sobbing and pestering me about my safety. I already have enough to deal with on my plate, I don’t need the extra stress. He’s kept ignorant out of convenience.”)

As expected, a self-serving reason. Rollo’s disgust does not abate. Still, a part of him wonders if Kalim would still be kind if he knew the truth of what happened in the City of Flowers, if some darker side of him would emerge as a result. No mage, no matter how upbeat, is entirely free of sin.

Kalim's taking longer than expected to get back, so Jamil and Rollo end up awkwardly playing some board games while they wait. Though Rollo tries his best, he's no match for Jamil, who takes delight in letting loose (he usually can't when he plays against Kalim) and smoking him in every match.

The ground shakes, rattling the stones in their mancala board. With each passing moment, the vibrations grow in increasing intensity—and suddenly, the doors kick open, revealing a parade of animals!! A tiger, 75 camels, 53 purple peacocks, 95 white monkeys, llamas, bears, lions, and even a flurry of birds!? Kalim arrives riding on an elephant and laughing to the slack-jawed Rollo. (Jamil groans. “You’d better get used to this, or you won’t make it through the day,” he warns flatly.)

The animals swarm Rollo, all of them kicking up a cacophony and demanding attention from him. He’s backed into a corner, trying to keep them at bag by poking them with his staff. Alas, to no avail!! The animals smother him in a pile of fur and feathers, and Rollo lets out strangled cry from between them.

“I think they’re getting along!!” Kalim notes from atop his elephant steed. (“Yes, I’m so happy for him.” Off to the side, Jamil snickers with some kind of sick, twisted joy.Finally, it’s someone else suffering for once instead of him.)

One thorough cuddling session later, Kalim flies to Rollo upon his magic carpet (it had been stashed away with him on the elephant) and offers a hand. He yanks his guest up with a grin and plops Rollo down beside him. “Next up: a magic carpet ride!” (“W-Wait, I don’t think my constitution can handle this much excitement…!!)

“Come now, where is your sense of adventure?” Jamil says as he kneels beside them on the carpet. His words are kept in an even enough of a tone, but there’s no mistaking the smirk on his mouth. (Rollo quietly fumes about it.)

Off they go into the Scarabian desert! Rollo wishes he could call it a peaceful ride, but it isn’t. Kalim keeps telling the magic carpet to show Rollo the tricks it knows, which means they’re not only soaring, but also tumbling and freewheeling through the sky. Below, the sands shine and shimmer splendidly.

Rollo’s eyes are clenched shut as he bends over the side of the carpet, trying hard to keep the contents of his lunch down. “Don’t you dare close your eyes,” Jamil whispers. “And hold your breath, it gets better.” (By ‘better’, he means ‘worse’, Rollo suspects.)

They speed up, bursting through the clouds, before dropping back down with collective shrieks. Rollo has to clutch onto his hat to keep it from flying off, forcing a scream back down as he hangs on for dear life, praying to be anywhere else. His eyes are wide with alarm, the fear inside of him clawing to escape.

The wild ride comes to a stop at a single spot of green and blue in the expanse of sand: an oasis encircled by broad-leafed trees. Rollo can’t scramble off that infernal carpet fast enough. (“Wow, he must have been really looking forward to this!!” Kalim chirps.)

With such crystalline waters available to them, Kalim thinks its only natural to take a dip! (Jamil has his sunscreen, towel, and swimming trunks on standby.) Rollo hurriedly backs away, trying to opt out—but he loses his foot in the shifting sands, and…

SPLOOSH!!! He’s drenched, the water weighing down his big hat and robes. Rollo looks less human and more like an angry wet cat (so much so that neutral-faced Jamil has to stop a smirk from overtaking him). Kalim, for his part, is super apologetic and offers Rollo his towel.

And so, Rollo sits in the shade of a tree while swathed in Kalim's towel, glaring at the Scarabia duo as they paddle around in the oasis. He hates that he can't just walk out on them, for he'd surely perish in the desert.

Rollo feels something at his feet--and when he looks down, he finds the magic carpet curled up there, emitting a sound akin to a dog panting. It seems... oddly excited to spend some time with him? Rollo frowns and makes a shooing motion, trying to banish the accursed thing--but, much to his dismay, it refuses to leave him alone and instead lingers at his side until the evening sets in ("Hmph, intrepid creature, aren't you?").

Thankfully, the trip back is uneventful (the magic carpet seems to have expended most of its energy on the showboating trip to the oasis). Rollo never thought he'd be so glad to see the garish interior of Scarabia again, but here he is. Jamil suggests that he prepare for bed (an idea which sounds surprisingly... normal, and thus earns a suspicious look from Rollo). "Oh? Do you doubt me? I would never try to deceive a beloved guest of Kalim's."

"Don't worry! Jamil's super trustworthy!!" Kalim adds. "Plus, we have to go get ready for the... Mmmmpfgh!" (Jamil quickly covers his mouth and gives a curt smile. "... As I was saying, you should wash up before bed.")

In spite of his doubts, Rollo relents with the suggestion to unwind for the night (he's had much too adrenaline for his liking today). He's escorted to a larger-than-life bathhouse and supplied with expensive-looking shampoos, conditioners, soaps, loofahs, a fluffy towel. and silk pajamas. "A bit much, don't you think?" he asks of Jamil. ("We don't do anything half-heartedly here," Jamil replies mysteriously.)

Being alone has never felt so good. Rollo has always preferred to be by himself, but after a day as hectic as this one he feels so relieved to not have Kalim and Jamil (or pesky pets!) with him as he sinks into pleasantly sweet-smelling waters.

He slips into the silk pajamas and steps out of the bathing area in slippers. Jamil bows to him and waves a hand. (Rollo's suspicions heighten.) "Right this way to your room for the night."

The inside of Scarabia is so big that it takes Rollo a while to realize that Jamil is actually leading him away from where the student rooms are—and how odd for such a noisy dorm to suddenly be dead quiet!! Just as Rollo begins to voice his apprehension, Jamil leads him right into Scarabia’s open-air lounge.

POP, POP, POP!! Party crackers go off, showering confetti onto Rollo’s freshly washed hair. He blinks several times to confirm that he is not, in fact, dreaming. No, it feels like more of a nightmare than a dream.

The lounge is infested with mob students, the air filled with loud music and the delicious smells of a sumptuous feast. Kalim emerges from the crowd and spreads his arms. “SURPRISE!! We’re throwing a banquet in your name! To our new friend!!”

Rollo feels so faint, his legs give out and Jamil had to catch him. “M-My handkerchief,” he sputters out weakly—alas, his coping mechanism won’t be able to help him now (he had foolishly tucked it away with his NBC uniform to dry overnight). “You have a party to tend to,” Jamil tells him.

The subtly evil sparkle in his dark eyes implies that Jamil knew this was coming all along… and had let it happen. He had been the one to lead Rollo here, the one to silence Kalim when he started to over speak. Anger rises in Rollo, and he struggles to contain it. “You scheming little weasel…!”

He’s not allowed to finish his statement, as Kalim has hooked one arm in his. Jamil waves good-bye to Rollo as Kalim yanks him around the room, introducing mob student after mob student to their honored guest. None of the names or faces stick in Rollo’s head, but the nausea from the earlier magic carpet ride is returning.

Speaking of the magic carpet, it trails after him and Kalim for most of the night! It weaves itself between Rollo’s legs and seems to stare at him eagerly, as if wanting head pats or compliments. (Rollo makes a face, but that doesn’t deter it.)

For the most part, Rollo keeps his mouth shut to avoid instigation (the last thing he wants is to lose it in such a public space) and downs as much grape juice as he can to quell his annoyance.

When all are full on food and drink, they’ve got to shake off all that energy!! Many take to the floor to dance, Kalim and Jamil included! They’re like birds in motion, free and flowing. Kalim just does what feels best to him, wheres Jamil mixes street dancing with his own expressive style. Rollo stands firmly at the sidelines, arms folded disapprovingly.

“Look at that disgusting display,” he grouses. The mob students around him cheer and hoot for their dorm leader and vice, their support rising about his disdain.

Now Kalim’s spinning wildly, his laugh reverberating like a bell’s echo. His arms extend as he twirls, reaching out to grasp Rollo by the arms. “Come on, dance with us!!” Kalim invites with sparkling eyes.

“No, I couldn’t…” Rollo protests, looking down stubbornly. Kalim misinterprets the motion as genuine bashfulness. (“It’s okay to be shy! That’s charming too.”)

There’s another tug—this time, Jamil. (“That’s right.” A smirk. “What’s so wrong with being a little bad once in a while?”

Rollo is dragged onto the dance floor against his will, set into the same twisted rhythm as the music. Those around him must get a sick thrill from the beats, each and every one of them a thrall to their own hedonistic desires. He wonders how they can live like this, free of care and worry—but as he dances among them, he, just for those moments, is left as feathery and as lightheaded.

How long do they dance for? He loses track of the time. There’s no clock to chime midnight to banish the magical spell placed upon him, only the burning in his feet as he dances the night away, intent on outdoing Kalim and Jamil.

Rollo basically blacks out in his bed that evening 💀 Man’s so tired and so done with this, he just wants OUT already!

… His body’s aching in the morning. (Nobody make an “he’s an old man!” joke, Rollo will smite you right where you stand.) He literally groans out loud as he hauls himself out of bed and prepares for the day. At the very least, his uniform has completely dried off from the unceremonious dunk in the oasis!

Kalim tries offload some extravagant parting gifts onto Rollo before his departure (from piles of gold and jewels to exotic new pets) to which Rollo stubbornly refuses. This leads into a back-and-forth about what would be a suitable souvenir to bring back with him from Scarabia. (Rollo won’t have any of it!!)

Jamil mediates, eventually convincing Kalim that his “invaluable friendship” and “the fun memories they made together” is treasure enough for Rollo. (Both he and Rollo gag internally at the idea, but Kalim seems super satisfied with it.)

"Yes, this won't be an experience I forget anytime soon," Rollo says dubiously. Kalim doesn't catch the malice in his flat tone, but Jamil definitely does.

[dcfanfictioncatalogue]

stephanie brown NOV 2023 fic awards

this is part of a new experimental thing I'm doing, where I will comb through every fic posted/updated in a character tag for a specific month and find my favorites! I hope this will encourage people to read and comment on new and active fics with less-focused-on characters.

-> Action & Plot <-

Purr-ple Power [series: 2/2], by Cephalogod. 5.7k, T, timsteph pre-relationship. summary: batman wouldn't listen to steph about her dad, but luckily for steph, a certain cat-themed vigilante is more than willing to. my notes: I adore "stray" fics/AUs, so it's about time steph got one! her particular brand of mischievousness is more than suited to selina's, and tim in this series is so funny. love!!

&&

Road to Recovery, by Solemini. 19.8k, T, gen, 6/6. summary: cass leaves steph the batgirl suit, and everything changes. a complete rewrite of batgirl 2009. my notes: god. this steph is angry. and she deserves to be-- she hates the world for not treating her right, she resents her upbringing. this is our angry robin. but it is, despite that, a tale of joy and love. basically, it's a gorgeous retelling of batgirl 2009.

-> Fluff & Humor <-

the relief of home, with you, by MermaidMarie. 2.5k, G, stephcass. summary: a series of little moments in the home steph and cass share. my notes: AAAGHGHG this was so cute!!! absolutely adorable and lovely 10/10 no notes the perfect friends to lovers domestic fluff

&&

the purple menace and camera boy, by waffleinatorinator. 1.2k, T, timsteph pre-relationship. summary: steph is spoiler, tim is a civilian, and he finds her injured in a dumpster. my notes: they're so cute!!! this is just one little scene but it's an adorable setup and I enjoyed it immensely.

⇘     click for more!     ⇘

-> Whump & Angst <-

distress signal, by waffleinatorinator. 5.4k, T, implied stephcass. summary: cass's distress signal goes off. steph runs across a city for her. my notes: the angst is DELICIOUS. the author's tag of "if there was a pwp tag for whump i would use it" rings very true. definitely good steph angst >:)

&&

i swear that i'll be yours forever 'til forever falls apart, by waffleinatorinator. 800, not rated, timsteph flavoring. summary: steph comes back as the red hood, and she's out for revenge -- but she doesn't get what she expected. my notes: this concept is everything to me -- reverse robins tim as red hood always bugs me when steph is logically supposed to be in that spot in the order and when it fits her story so much better. I also love tim's dedicated loyalty to her here, and how insane they both are &lt;3

-> Currently Updating <-

Girls Against God, by cookiesncrows. 36.3k, M, stephcass endgame, 22/?. summary: jim gordon falls ill, which means babs and james have to tolerate each other enough to take care of him. in the interim, kate kane moves back to gotham to be the new batgirls' mentor, which steph and cass are not fond of. my notes: ohh the angst is so good!! this fic is very heavy on the character interaction and the plot which I personally adore, and the inclusion of lesser-known characters that are written very well makes this whole world feel fleshed out and real.

&&

The Ping-Pong Wars, by fadesfanfic. 6.6k, G, gen, 5/?. summary: steph beats damian at ping-pong, and damian becomes hellbent on reclaiming his honor. my notes: it's silly and fluffy and somehow manages to perfectly capture the batgirl 2009 vibe of steph trying to bond with this feral little child. well worth the read!!! &lt;3

send me an ask for fic rec lists ++ to find a fic lost to the sands of time

[shigayokagayama]

sakurai hato or minegishi :3? my faves

sakurai:

Sexuality Headcanon:

this man is gay

Gender Headcanon:

honestly nothing in specific. cis but in a "never really put much thought into it" kinda way. could he be inclined to question or transition? perhaps, but he is too busy cleaning up the giant comical jar of disgusting orange sauce that spilled all over the floor because a customer insisted they could fit a weeks worth of groceries into one cheap reusable grocery bag and it predictably split open and went everywhere and now the whole store smells like nondescript orange sauce and he has a headache from the smell but the manager will be pissed if he closes the register and moves to one further away so he just has to mop it between customers and the stain remains until they redo the nylon in 30 years.

A ship I have with said character:

koyama. made for each other.

A BROTP I have with said character:

i really like thinking abt post canon 7th division staying friends :] i think they hang out sometimes

A NOTP I have with said character:

none that come to mind? obvious stuff aside i suppose

A random headcanon:

a common theme between all three of these characters is that theyre young enough to fall in the age range where they could have been kidnapped by claw and i choose to believe that's what happened. especially sakurai. this kid screams kidnapped. no one would have looked for him....

General Opinion over said character:

i dont think about the 7th division members all that much just because they all get introduced in my least favorite arc so i dont really have a reason to reread/rewatch unless im doing a full series rewatch, but as a background character enjoyer seeing people have thoughts on them makes me very happy

hatori:

Sexuality Headcanon:

gay asexual seems right for him i think :]

Gender Headcanon:

definitely some flavor of transmasc

A ship I have with said character:

computers. other than that ive seen people ship him with joseph and i see the vision.

A BROTP I have with said character:

similar to above i think he and the rest of the super five are still buddies after everything.

A NOTP I have with said character:

this is a weird question to answer for the more minor/background characters so instead ill say "i used to sorta ship him and minegishi in like a qpp sorta way when i thought they were like the same age but learning minegishi was like 19 and punching the numbers meant that unless they didnt meet until less than a year precanon there's no way to make that not weird so i dropped it". so it goes.

A random headcanon:

ditto to above and also reddit moderator. i know he's a reddit moderator on some tech forum giving the world's most smarmy and least helpful advice

General Opinion over said character:

i like him! i dont think of him too often but im fond of all the super five.

minegishi:

Sexuality Headcanon:

ace aro :]

Gender Headcanon:

transfemme nonbinary <3

A ship I have with said character:

none really. they dont have time for that they have a thankless minimum wage job to work.

A BROTP I have with said character:

super five but also i realized hoshida from the reigen manga is in the age range to have gone to middle school with them before they became a terrorist and the idea of them having been childhood friends who fell out of touch and then him turning on the news to find out the kid who used to make him clover necklaces is wreaking havoc on downtown is REALLY funny

A NOTP I have with said character:

most things honestly at this point. i am so sorry shimamine shippers they took everything from you with the fanbook

A random headcanon:

i feel like post canon theyd become a bug person. like, getting big terrariums with self sustaining ecosystems of invertabrates :]

General Opinion over said character:

i actually like them a lot! i feel like its clear from the answers to these that theyre the one out of these i think about the most frequently lol. i just. how did you join the upper echelon of a terrorist organization at age 16. what happened.

[ghostat7am]

"Care for a bug?"

Trying to get more comfortable showing my other Crygors since I actually have eight of them but Diverged is the most beloved. So introducing the Crygor I'm the most self conscious of DKJJGN

Meet Dr. Kilrait and his critters Selene and Mauve! They're actually much bigger and tower over Kilrait, just wanted to draw them little and small

(you can see the decrease in quality as I became more and more self conscious about them SGKGH)

This au everyone is assigned a creature that people deem as scary or undesirable. Crygor (named Kilrait) is a snake, Orbulon (named Selene) is a mosquito and Mike (named Mauve) is a tarantula. It doesn't really have a story, it's mainly a series of bizarre and horror-inspired scenarios. But there is some backstory

(Character descriptions + basic backstories. CW for near death mentions & mistreatment/implied ab*se for Selene)

Dr. Kilrait (he/him - name pending) is this world's Crygor, based off a Malayan Krait, he's a happy go lucky and affectionate doctor who specialises in surgery and entomology. He cares for his patients amazingly and has extraordinary talents, he aims to change the future of humanity and make the world a better place.

However, he's hiding something underneath- he was born with the inability to feel pain or fear, attempting to change his own biology to the point of obsession. In attempt to gain these feelings, he has begun experiments where he puts healthy and consenting participants into near death situations to monitor and try to mimic their reactions. He truly has no ill intent and makes sure these patients are completely safe during & after these tests, paying for treatment for any mental trauma they may recieve from such tests- he just feels incomplete and wrong without feeling these "truly human" emotions and he'll do anything to change it, even if it means tearing his life to shreds to achieve it.

Mauve (he/him) is Dr. Kilrait's mechanical Metallic Blue Tarantula son and this world's Mike, created to ease the ever-growing internal isolation and loneliness his creator suffers from. Typically very cynical and a skeptic, but aids his father without question. Trusts his dad's every word with no further thought or hesitation since he is Mauve's only window to human society. He may seem cold, but truly he's also quite loving like his father- however he's far less doting, Kilrait is extremely doting towards anyone he goes attached to but especially Mauve. He's all Kilrait has...

A few years ago, Mauve offered himself as a test subject to ensure the equipment for Kilrait's fear tests were safe for human. Everything was going well until something malfunctioned and almost ended the robot, this was the closest Kilrait has felt true terror as he cradled his son's injured body. He is physically okay, but it has left a mental scar on them both - causing Kilrait to only become more protective.

Selene (they/them) is Mauve's spouse and this world's Orbulon, based off a mosquito, they are very snide and vindictive. Suffering from extreme trust issues due to past mistreatment and pain, taught to be a vampire and drain others of their life (literally and emotionally/mentally) - but their cruel nature encases a gentle and affectionate soul, Mauve is slowly cracking away at their shell so they can finally be themselves again without paranoia.

After being left to rot by one they considered to be their true love, Selene decided to close themselves off to never suffer like that again, turning to tormenting others to ease their unpleasant feelings and began working in shady business in disguises. One night, Selene encountered Mauve while attempting to dig dirt up on Kilrait for a paying client, attempting to scare information out of the spider- they were only met with lighthearted amusement and friendly gestures, catching Selene completely off guard. It turned into a pleasant conversation between them and Selene decided to not ruin Kilrait's life for Mauve's sake. Afterwards, they kept meeting up and eventually fell in love as Mauve gently lowered their walls.

[kingsandbastardz]

Finished episode 39. May not have a chance to get to 40 until later next week but kinda working through my feelings which are mixed about this episode:

DFS standing front and center with Sigu sect when receiving thanks is so amusing to me. He's a head taller and super visible too. Just the one prominent Jinyuan Alliance representative.

A part of me feels bad for child Shang Gudao - he lived his entire childhood being the afterthought, with less talent and ability over all. But as an adult, I'm just grossed out by him. Like by his age he should have....like. Found a monk to get friendly therapy from, joined a monastery, become an emo poet. He had options. Though with his karma, maybe he'd end up with evil versions of all of the above.

Why did Shang Gudao's meridians explode? Did his energy backfire through the broken meridians somehow?

Never trust emperors no matter how good their reputation is. D:

I still feel like the bug storyline would have been served better by focusing instead on a Di Fortress arc that leads to mind controlled super assassins storming the palace like attack dogs or something. Because as of now, Di Fortess feels like it's separate from rest of the series and just a blip in DFS's character background. While the palace stuff needs an additional episode to flesh out the emperor and the politics they hinted at

Over all, i enjoyed the episode! Buuuut I found there was a weird emotional disconnect between when the trio were working together and later on when the battle is done and DFS gives them the Styx flowers. It felt like the two were emotionally closer to DFS during the fight, but in the later scene, everyone was taking a big step back and deliberately resetting themselves to an earlier time.

Like FDB repeating an earlier line "You do have a conscience!" As if he's been consistently surprised at DFS doing anything altruistic. I know LLH never explained anything to him, and FDB bought into the demon sect narrative (which tbf is understandable - heretical sects have a reputation for reason) but he's seen evidence first hand that DFS does have it in him to help ppl if he wants to? So i find this flip flopping in attitude strange. He goes back and forth with being familiar and then acting like he doesn't know him at all.

I find it interesting that LLH equates fighting with promises of friendship between the two. Which, I think he thought dfs getting married to him, i mean, being friends that drink and look at the moon together, meant dfs had agreed. To be fair, dfs talks around it without promising anything, but I can see why llh would think otherwise lol.

LLH also repeats an early line to dfs, "You need to break your habit of eavesdropping."

Maybe it was all for the sake of emotional security, but I kinda want to shake them because I thought they moved from this point. But here they are, walking everything back so far they're repeating old lines from earlier episodes. 😬 Boys.

[toxicbantha]

mi mariposa

pairing: academy! marcus moreno x f!reader word count: 2k summary: marcus tries to get away. unfortunately, he wasn't the only one with that idea. comments: this is the beginning of a series that never was. found in the drafts after a year (sending into the void not edited either. yikes)

Leaves crunch beneath his boots each step through the orange turned forest, twigs and branches snap with every little brush against his pants legs.

Marcus takes his secret path to his secret place.

Just outside of campus along the coastal shore, where he goes to find peace after a day that was all too much. To feel the sun on his skin and watch warm colors dance across the sky. To be grounded and remember what he is doing all this for. Why he is doing all this.

For his Papa. To make him proud.

He pulls at his uniform as he nears the cliff’s entrance. Deaf fingers unbutton the top of his dress blouse and tug at the tie around his neck, remove the red chord from around his bicep and shove rough fabric into an empty pocket.

He had already forgone his glasses somewhere among the training site, leaving them apathetically before stalking off in frustrated glory. Smashed to pieces or regarded carefully, Marcus could not care less in the end. It was becoming too much, all of it too much. He just needed to calm down and get away. To feel the breeze beneath his collar and be alone—

Except, he is not alone.

His secret path to his secret place… That maybe is not so secret after all.

Eyes darker than a Winter’s night greet him as he steps through the clearing. Hard and yet frighteningly soft. Her expression holds no shock nor concern when she sees him, as if she was expecting his inevitable arrival from miles away.

Maybe she has super-hearing. Maybe his footsteps were louder than he thought.

In a beat, Marcus rakes over her frame, taking in her matching uniform and for the first time, where she is sitting. He nearly lunges realizing how close she is to the edge—how her legs could easily dangle over if she only moved a few inches closer. How quick it would be for her to slip and fall into the roaring sea below.

He takes in a shallow breath, just barely holding back. It is the super in him that makes him want to say something; to leap into action without a second thought.

Maybe her power is flight. Maybe she can control the wind.

Marcus tries to recall if he has seen her before: on campus, around town, anywhere. Just to discern her abilities, he tells himself. But he knows he hasn’t. All his life, he’s never seen eyes that dark; they would have never left his mind had he.

When her features narrow a slither, he realizes he is staring; held in a daze somewhere between captivated and curious. A blush rises to his cheeks. He blinks it away and gives her a simple nod, hoping it is enough.

Somehow, it is. For she nods in return and just as simply, returns to the retreating sun.

It’s just past sunset by the time the next human noise is made. Leaves continue their rustle in the wind and waves still crash against the rocky mountainside, but no sound words or sounds were ever exchanged between the two.

Marcus squeals when the little black creature perches itself on his nose. Six long legs and the face of an alien staring right at him. How he hadn’t noticed the fluttering thing until it was too late, he would never openly admit. Surely, it was not because he was more captivated by the steady rise and fall of her shoulders than anything else.

She hadn’t moved yet, so sunset or not, neither had he.

Frozen still, his heart begins to race and his lips curve to blow a large gust of desperate air upward, trying to shoo the insect away. But the butterfly makes no move to leave its spot, as if completely unfazed by his attempt. He almost laughs—it is not that he is afraid of bugs, it is just creepy this close. Just his strange luck.

His hand rises to scare the creature away, but before he can get close enough, all too gentle fingers touch his wrist. “Wait,” a voice says.

Her voice.

Marcus stills instantly, her voice touching deep in his stomach. It was not until she spoke that he noticed how near she had come. How she is only inches away from him now. And how much more beautiful she is up close.

His concern disappears as she sets his eyes on her again.

He really hopes her power is not mind-reading.

She flicks a glance up to him and then back down to the butterfly, a slight smirk splaying over her lips as she bends closer. “She likes you,” she teases, extending a finger out to the creature. It goes to her almost embarrassingly smooth, crawling onto her hand without a pause of hesitation, as if coaxed by her presence alone.

Talking to animals, then?

The sky’s remaining glow catches on her profile as she turns to the side, warm rays bathing her body in light. And with nothing more than an effortless blow, the butterfly takes off, returning its beating wings to the wind.

A sight like this, Marcus feels, he could watch forever and never grow tired of.

He smiles, readying gratitude to leave his lips. But then something else catches his eye. “You’re an orange…” he says.

Orange. The line between an ability labeled a gift or a curse. A super with immeasurable power. A villain, if only they chose to snap their fingers a little too hard. It makes sense now, why he’s never seen her before.

She stills—caught, almost—and her shoulders go rigid. Thick tension suffocates the air. “Yeah,” she finally says, and then yanks at the chord from around her arm and turns away. “I’m an orange.”

Marcus winces at the hurt in her voice and stands slowly. He wasn’t trying to pull a nerve; he should be saying thank you, not starting a fight. “I’m sorry,” he tries, “I’ve just never met an orange before.” For good reason though, they always try to say.

When a red gets mad, they can level a city. But when an orange loses control… They can level the world. Even he was only a red—all the academy’s best prospects were. So, to be an orange… That meant no super hearing, no talking to animals, no control of the wind. It was something much much worse.

A bubbling part of him should be cautious now knowing the truth, but she seems so normal.

She speaks again softly, still not facing him. “There aren’t many of us,” she agrees, “and we don’t exactly get out much.”

It is a dig, he realizes, but he does not take it to heart. It’s common knowledge that they are not allowed to leave campus.

But here she is.

Suddenly she turns and meets his eyes, something akin to worry blooming beneath her eyes. “Are you going to report me now?”

It is a prison to them, this academy. This locked down campus. It is not like they chose their own gifts. Marcus shakes his head, because rules or not, future leader or not, if he can give her this—he will. “No, I’m not,” he says, and means every word.

She smiles, but it does not reach her eyes.

Thank you. It should have been left at that, but curiosity… It is such a dangerous thing.

“How’d you do it anyway?” He gestures back in the direction of the academy. “How did you get past the sensors?”

She considers him a moment, then shrugs. “I was cloaked.”

Cloaked? That doesn’t say much. He lifts an eyebrow, waiting for more of an explanation.

“Invisible?” she adds.

But still, it doesn’t aid his confusion. Turning invisible gets picked up by the censor. It is also not nearly enough to be an orange. And doesn’t explain why she was so unconcernedly close to the cliff’s edge.

“I never said that was my power.”

Marcus winces—he must have said that last part out loud. She gives him a curious look before smirking playfully. “You trying to ask me something, Moreno?”

His shy smile is traitorous. He should be embarrassed, but instead blush rises to his cheeks for another reason. He does not need to ask how she knows his name; everyone knew his father. It’s the reason he’s come out here. And besides, he likes the way it sounds from her lips.

He scratches at the back of his neck and cocks his head to the side. “Show me what you can do?” he asks.

She smiles thoughtfully and rakes her eyes over the landscape. “Tell me a secret first,” she proposes. “It’s only fair, since you know one of mine.”

Yeah, that is true, he guesses. Marcus nods. Maybe this is part of her powers too? “This is kind of embarrassing,” he chuckles, “but when I was younger, I used to always wish I could fly. So, I used to put a metal harness on and try to make myself levitate all around the yard.”

She grins. “And did it work?”

“Nope,” he sighs, running a hand down his face. “Just ended up with a huge wedgie every time.”

Her laugh is his new favorite sound.

But he grows confused when her smile falls, and she still doesn’t move. “That was funny,” she admits, “but it’s not really the kind of secret I meant.”

Marcus frowns, not knowing her meaning.

“Well,” she shrugs, “why’d you come out here for?”

He turns quiet a moment and rakes a hand through his hair, features drawn tight. Not to talk about it, that is for sure. But the crashing waves reminds him. “I don’t know”—to watch the sunset, to feel the wind, to take a breather—“to get away, I guess.”

“From what?”

His jaw tightens, frustration suddenly taking over. Talking is the exact opposite of what he came for. “What did you come out here for?” he bites back, unable to stop himself.

She only shakes her head slowly, not entertaining his tone. “That wasn’t part of the game.”

Marcus huffs a bitter laugh. He does not want to admit the truth—he has never even said the words out loud before. But she is right, this is what he asked for. And it is just his strange luck a stranger would be the one he tells his most naked thought to. One more look into her pitch-black eyes and he falls.

“Sometimes I think I’ll never amount to half the leader my dad was. And that he would be disappointed to call me his son.”

If he expected a reaction, he does not get one. She only regards him silently, never once dropping his stare. Somehow, he is grateful for that. Grateful that she doesn’t have any pity for him, only whatever she is showing. It is strangely comforting.

She gives him a moment, then flicks her head to the side and extends her hand out to him. Still no sympathy to be seen. “Come here,” she says.

And it is the simplest direction he has been given all day. He does not need to be told twice. Marcus steps over and slots his fingers through hers. Her touch feels nice, normal in a strangely familiar way. It sends goosebumps to his heart.

She looks up at him and squeezes his hand. “Don’t let go of my hand, okay? No matter what you see.”

He nods.

She turns their bodies toward the forest clearing and draws a single hand into the air. Excitement floods his veins. "They say butterflies are an omen of good luck.” Her eyes catch his and she smiles softly. “I don’t believe in luck,” she admits, “but you might think you need some.”

Her hand flicks back, and suddenly, darkness overtakes them.

[plantwriting]

bro. dude. holy shit. im on the last work rn but ur bitb boys series?????? im loosing my MINDDDD. ITS SO FUCKING GOOD. its so well written- the way so many things youre like oh haha fun quirk/trauma response has such detail and reason behind uit????? the like. gasp i made when i realized kian zoned out cause of the song like two chapters later???? and the way theyre all like. theyre all so naturally fucked up and traumatized and its like. yeah that would be a real persons thought process and thats why thats happening. GAHHHH its all so fucking good. i also adore the bug rolan parts- the part after he has his first breakdown and kian is petting his hair and he like. purrs and then the hand goes away and the bugs like where hive? cause it equates them to the hive i had to stand up and walk around my room cause i was like FFFUCKKKK GOD. THEM. and the way rand can tell kian is lying is so good and like. yummy from a reader perspective cause its like. yeah someone whos incredibly Not Normal would try to "act normal" when lying. and that with the whole kian becoming not cool and just kian in rands eyes GOD. NOT TO MENTION THE RELIGIOUS TRAUMA AND THEMES??? ITS SO GOOD. theyre all so fucked up and codependent and its. its so good. i almost missed the turn in time for like four assignments cause i was like okay. one more chapter and i couldnt put ut down LMAO

WAHHH THANK YOU???? SO MUCH??? Ive been awake for like less than an hour I CANT DEAL WITH THIS YET im just. Im so glad youre enjoying it and im sorry about your assignments???? Youre way too nice i just. Thank you ;-;

[baenyth]

Bethany's Bizarre Miraculous Rewrite: The Romance Subplot for the Planned Seasons

One of my goals for my rewrite is to make the romance subplot of the series less drawn-out, more cathartic, feature more of the side ships of Lukanette, Adrigami, and even Marichat, and also get more gay. So without further ado, here's the romance subplot for the first five seasons:

Season 1 (Equivalent to seasons 1 and 2, twice the length of a normal season): Basic lovesquare antics. Marinette loves Adrien, but not Chat Noir. Adrien loves Ladybug, but not Marinette. They're also both fucked-up. Marinette knows Adrien's schedule and far too many personal details about him. Adrien as Chat acts entitled to Ladybug's love and even causes an akuma with his entitlement. He does get raked over the coals for that and after Glaciator/the Ice Cream akuma becomes far more respectful towards Ladybug, but still harbors love for her. He starts to move on from her after Frozer/the Ice Skating akuma, however.

Season 2 (Equivalent to season 3): The love square reversal happens a few episodes in. Yes, really. Adrien gets over Ladybug in favor of Marinette, while Marinette tries to put her feelings of Adrien aside to prove to her class that she isn't just jealous of Lila and targets Chat Noir instead. She does act salty at Kagami for a few episodes, however. During the kwamiswap Lady Noire is utterly down bad for Mister Bug as they fight All Eyes on Mecha. Desperada's arc of Ladybug picking Adrien in favor of Luka is replaced with picking Chat in favor of Luka. The season 5 episode where Marinette and Chat Noir go on a date and gets the ice cream man akumatized occurs here. Alya has doubts about Marinette's crush. She's right, and eventually Marinette realizes that and goes back to Adrien. Since the two are in love with eachother, things work out quickly and easily and they get together and kiss by the season finale.

Season 3 (Equivalent to seasons 3 and 4): On the first episode of Season 3 Adrienette has a horrific messy breakup after Adrien discovers the Schedule and similar things. I was thinking of putting it four episodes in, but I decided 1. it would be better if it was the beginning of the season and 2. I want Adrienette fans to feel the same despair I felt as a Lukanette and Adrigami fan at the start of season 4. The rest of the season focuses on the aftermath of this nightmare breakup. Ladybug and Chat Noir comfort and give advice to each other about the breakup and coalesce into a queerplatonic couple. They still don't figure out their identities because they're dumb teens. Marinette and Adrien start dating Luka and Kagami respectively halfway through the season and their relationships get plenty of time to shine. Marinette genuinely falls in love with Luka. Same with Adrien and Kagami. The love square is dead. Good riddance. Thankfully, Marinette does apologize to Adrien, and they make up and become just friends.

Season 4 (Equivalent to season 4): Here's some context: in the Season 3 finale, Hawkmoth was finally defeated but not Coeur, the woman behind Hawkmoth. What's worse is 1. Master Fu had to abdicate guardianship to Ladybug and 2. Coeur managed to discover multiple hero identities. So now Ladybug is working overtime creating guardian potions and doing nightly patrols to check up on everyone who got exposed. She's getting stressed, she's burning herself out, and so her parents start helping her with her guardian duties (they've known since season 1,) giving Ladybug a support group that she's not telling Chat Noir about. And kittycat's getting suspicious. He knows Ladybug's not telling him information and in general he feels like he's on the level of the side heroes rather than one of the main two, causing relationship troubles in their queerplatonic couple. Chat Noir starts training to compensate for this, to the point where he awakening his fullest Miraculous powers (infinite cataclysms!). All of this hard work for both of them causes strain in their civilian relationships, and they unfortunately have to break up because of it and since they can't tell Luka/Kagami their secret identities. And then Luka accidentally finds out both heroes' identities while Kagami manages to figure them out on her own. As for the stuff between Ladybug and Chat Noir, it gets resolved by Cat Walker, although here Ladybug is more unnerved by Cat Walker, and she apologizes to Chat Noir and lets him as much in the loop as she can without compromising her identity.

Season 5 (Equivalent to season 5 except not really): Ladybug and Chat Noir are back as a queerplatonic couple, baby! The two of them against the world! And also the other heroes! The fun parts come from their civilian relationships. Luka and Kagami, now that they know our heroes' identities, start dating them again, but the other way around. Lukadrien and Marigami. These relationships are arguably better than the other ones, too. Luka and Adrien share so much in common that they really get eachother, while Marinette is more comfortable with her sexuality and has a girlfriend that pushes her to be more, and Kagami has a loving relationship with little-to-no secrets! Rose is ecstatic. Tomoe is pissed because no Adrigami. Also, at the end of the season, after Coeur fucking dies and Felix, her last minion, is arrested for being a butt, we finally get an identity reveal between Ladybug and Chat Noir! And if this ends up as the series finale, Lukadrien and Marigami converge into the polycule of the gods, Lukadrigaminette!

[lazycowboy666]

welcome to lazy re-interprets pre-canon khr pt1/?

- reborn and shamal knew each other pre-canon, in my mind pre-curse!reborn. shamal worked at hayato and bianchi’s family’s house as their live-in doctor. so reborn visits the house on and off to conduct business with shamal or just annoy him and inevitably runs into the two weird kids.

- hayato and bia think he’s the coolest dude ever. tall, black suit, carrying around a fucking lizard, an air of mystery plus a weird anime shadow over his eyes from his fedora. tells them stories about his “adventures” every once in a while, lets them play with his pet lizard(s). he impresses the “everybody cool is also a hitman” on the two kids at an early age, despite the two of them being boss candidates and hitmen being seen as several steps below their status. hayato already had this mindset from latching onto shamal but this was bia’s a-ha moment.

- so while hayato seeks out shamal after he leaves the house bc he’s already imprinted on him as “dad” figure, bia wants nothing to do with that intoxicated, sexist idiot and seeks out this “reborn” dude from her childhood after her own successful runaway from their shit, negligent family. and insanely enough, she does.

- this is where i re-interpret the timeline a little, because it’s already fuzzy in-canon, that she runs into him still pre-curse, pre-dino and declares that he’s going to be her “tutor” on how to become a hitman, bc yes, you are now HER “dad” figure, reborn, and there’s nothing you can do to stop this. (she sits on his stoop à la russel from up—except more menacing—until he finally lets her in.)

- cue léon and mathilda lando apartment scenario with a lizard enclosure rather than a potted plant and less creepy one-sided flirting (though bia is very touch-starved and the occasional, proud head pats reborn gives her are extremely novel to her; she does hold his hand too when she’s scared, similar to how she’d do with her bio dad growing up). basically give me reborn teaching bia how to shoot (fuck canon, this kid can shoot fine), how to conduct surveillance, how to master disguises, how to approach targets unnoticed, etc. the two of them bond especially over their love of insects and bia’s actually the one who shows reborn the weird canon bug-speak thing from daily arc bc y’know, why not. magic mafia.

- flash forward a year or two of this, and suddenly, reborn’s gone, off answering a job offer to end all job offers (you know where this is going). he comes back after a few weeks of radio silence as a fucking toddler and bia, being bia, is just glad he’s still alive. figuring out clothes for him is interesting and now reborn’s teaching her how to sew kid’s clothes to help him out.

- they keep working hits but obviously it’s weird as shit that the guy you’re hiring is now a deformed child, so the jobs start dwindling. bia goes off, gets a bf who treats her like shit and eventually kills him for it (he deserves it), and now people don’t want to hire her bc they think she’ll turn on them. it’s not looking good. until news comes in that the cavallone family’s boss is dying and his one heir is a fucking mess and the power balance is about to shift dramatically and potentially lead to all-out war because the family is nearly in financial ruin and owes a lot of money to a lot of different families and yada yada.

- cue bia being like “hey you know who was raised to be a boss? me. and who raised me to defend myself and kick ass? you.” and knowing “uncle cavallone” aka the 9th cav boss personally from when she was a kid, she drags reborn to their estate to propose her idea and it’s just the usual canon deadly comedic shitshow from there on. there’s a VERY good reason why dino’s fucking afraid of bianchi and it’s not the reason you’d think.

i’ll post more later, because this series is a spore in my brain that’s been lodged there for over a decade now, my personal interests being gokudera and bianchi’s background in particular. i welcome all comments and reblogs!

[iztarshi]

I think the ending + movie of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is interesting from a Doylist perspective partly because of how rushed it was - sad as that is from a fan perspective.

In the same way filler and gecko endings came from anime being made from manga that hadn't finished yet, we're seeing storytelling happen under constraints of a) stories with ongoing arcs and character development being popular in western animation right now b) studios still cancelling them with no warning and leaving a minimal amount of episodes to wrap up. We're seeing a lot of slow build up to suddenly fast-paced endings.

So rottmnt goes from being halfway through the second season of a three season story to having six episodes to wrap up. Under those circumstances it does remarkably well! A lot of minor threads - Dr Noe's quest for Raph's tooth, whatever was up with Jupiter Jim's working movie props and yokai sidekick - simply get dropped, but the overall emotional arc of Splinter reconciling with his own mistakes and with his family both past and present comes through loud and clear. The tales of the hidden city episodes coming so soon before the end set up Splinter having reconciled with Draxum and his own feelings about being a mutant too, a good thing to get in before the finale.

Talking of tales of the hidden city, this also lands us on a fairly complete arc for Donnie, almost by chance. Witch Town both contextualised the issues he'd been having with mystic and let him move on from them. I think in a less rushed ending he would have starting working on getting used to mystic powers rather than gone straight to using ninpo with no problem having always used tech before - but on an emotional level it works. It means Donnie is going into learning ninpo without hang ups about it so the fact that he uses it with ease doesn't feel wrong.

Mikey's arc also ends in... kiiiind of not a bad place. We learn why he's so intent on redeeming Draxum, that he feels like he needs to justify his own creation, and he manages to make Splinter understand and get his parents to reconcile. We don't deal with whether Mikey really needs to justify his existence, or whether he's being too hard on the rest of his family by pushing this on them for his peace of mind. Worse, the movie can't even hint at resolutions here because Netflix wanted to focus on characters that were franchise wide and not Rise specific so Draxum gets at most a cameo.

Raph and Leo's hidden city episodes aren't as deep and we end with them in an interesting place because they're mid character arc. Season two was, iirc, meant to end with Raph and Leo as co-leaders. Maybe season three would have worked towards Leo taking leadership alone. The result is that they're in an emotional place where that would make sense as a solution but not yet in a place where the solution has even started to present itself.

Raph starts the series pretty gung-ho about leadership. It's a chance to boss his little brothers around! He gets comments about being "the guy who's always telling us he's our leader" from Donnie. Then the show wears on. Villains get more dangerous. Leo nearly dies in Bug Busters from a call Raph makes. The consequences of failing missions get worse, too. Raph starts taking it all more seriously, becoming increasingly anxious about his brothers and less able to trust that they'll be okay if he's not right there to pick up the slack. He also gets more resentful towards them for making him worry like this. Pizza Puffs shows it best. Raph's feeling trapped by the role he started out wanting.

Leo's behaviour meanwhile is getting increasingly wild. I wish we had had an equivalent to Donnie and Mikey's hidden city episodes where he explained what was going on with him, because it's hard to parse exactly where he's coming from. But he's picking fights with Donnie in a way he didn't in season one. He's refusing to communicate with the team, sometimes outright lying to them. If he's upset that they don't trust him he seems to be dealing with it by being as untrustworthy as possible.

I do think it's a set up for Leo moving towards finding a role on the team that a) makes him feel fully part of it b) requires him to behave more responsibly. Currently he's pulling away, trying to be better than his brothers instead of work with them, and that's what he needs to deal with.

Then the series ends and the focus is necessarily on wrapping up the plot, plus Splinter's relationship with his sons which has been shown as loving but somewhat broken throughout the show. We're rooting for them to understand each other better and pull through to win together and they do. In the most literal-symbolic way possible.

Raph also gets his feelings dealt with as part of the ending. We had him in a bad place and then - since we get no time for anyone, including Leo himself, to realise he's capable of leading - Raph has to remain the leader through the finale. We see him deal with his belief that he has to take care of everyone and how isolated it makes him feel, and learn to open up to his brothers more and rely on them too.

This does have the odd side-effect that the finale seems to show Raph becoming a better leader right before leadership is taken away from him. But the fact that Raph was overwhelmed and stressed by the job is made evident.

Then the movie gets used to tie up the emotional loose ends Raph and Leo's interrupted arc gave us.

One interesting thing about the movie is that despite a lot of its plot being based in this struggle over leadership and Raph and Leo's feelings about it no one ever mentions who the leader is. After seeing one of the deleted scene animatics I kind of get that, though.

The animatic has Raph claiming he never wanted to be leader and just felt he needed to take care of his brothers - which is very much a retcon of Raph's arc in season one. I think ultimately everyone's feelings about leadership were just too complicated to sum up in the movie in a way that wasn't reductive.

Or maybe Netflix just didn't want series specific plot points referenced. Especially since Raph having been the leader until recently is very much a Rise thing, whereas Leo and Raph having fights about Leo's leadership ability is very franchise wide. Even if it's not usually about Leo failing to take things seriously.

But the movie does, imo, a very good job of condensing the story and making the character arcs make sense despite the finale and the declaration of Leo as leader having happened in the middle of them.

Leo's wild behaviour - put on hold for the finale - returns, with the defeat of Shredder and being named leader now being added to outwitting Big Mama as reasons he's riding high. The degree to which it's driven by arrogance, insecurity, or a mixture of the two is still debatable, but it's the continuation of the arc he was on.

Raph's anxious resentment is still there, amplified by the fact that he should be able to get a break now he's not leader, but Leo won't step up and take the weight off his shoulders.

It moves things around. Leo gets thrown in at the deep end and has to realise that he's capable of being a good leader after he's already been leader for a few months. As well as learning that he has to work with his team instead of measuring himself against them and judging who did "better" at everything.

In the end I think it's fascinating how they told a good story around so many constraints.

[alexsiple]

For the fandom ask: 1-10, Persona 5

ok hello thank u for the ask, i'm putting it under a cut LOL

What originally drew me to it

ahhhh. my past roommates were already very familiar with it and knew the story / had watched playthroughs. and through a series of events we came to have a ps3 in our apartment and they jumped on having the chance to play it themselves and then we just. would play it every night until 4 am as a reprieve from working on our thesis films. tired out of our minds. one time the ps3 crashed after we'd defeated all those mini bosses at the end and we had to do it all again. good times

What I like most and least about it

hmm... i love the story and the characters. the thieves specifically. made in a lab for my brain to enjoy. i love the rebellious messages, i love this game when it gets it right. but on the other hand i really hate the writing when it gets it wrong (misogyny? messy writing in general? sometimes the story is like "jk don't rebel against oppressive systems" or is an apologist for characters who don't deserve it) i hate kawakami as a character / dating the full grown women / the dating system in general. sorry? also it's rare i love a game that long for its mechanics but i like the battle system and all that shit. not perfect but it's fun as hell to me

A character I want to carry around in a little jar and study like a bug

answered in another ask but it's akechi. omg wait also maruki HAHAHAHA hate that guy. putting him in a box and poking holes in it

A character I couldn't care less about

uhhhhhh. kawakami? lol? or ohya? i refuse to finish their confidants. shrug. yoshida's confidant goes hard though am i right

The character who gives me the greatest gender envy

joker :/ too easy i know

A character I'd like to frame and hang on my wall and admire like a work of art

yusuke??? not because he's an artist ok i'm not on-the-nose like that i just love him he's so wonderful to me. i want him to have everything he ever desires

A character who feels like home

ryuji. i've cried about him. he's your BEST FRIEND

The character with the greatest wasted/unexplored potential

OH. lolol [any woman because atlus hates women and] i'd say haru? i could write an essay on haru but it's not interesting we all know

The character I'd most enjoy feeding to a pride of ravenous lions

uhhhhh any palace ruler can get in the lion pit i guess. even maruki but i say it affectionately (?) even sae i'm sorry girl you have to try harder. any adult in p5 actually. get in the pit. shrug. no one is safe

A ship I would gladly go down with... and then become Davey Jones, so I can continue to captain said ship for eternity

shuake... if it wasn't clear already. but i also love yusuke/ryuji :')

[studioahead]

Artist Spotlight: John Gnorski

When we asked John Gnorski what on earth are EARTH BABIES, he took us on a subterranean journey to meet them. Or at least that's how it felt. Hearing John speak about his creative process certainly takes you all over, even into your subconsciousness, about which he has a lot to say. His art is full of strange landscapes, strange portraits, strange figures. Our current fave is one from his Clouds Roll By Like A Train In The Sky series not because of its great title, or because the clouds might actually be birds or blossoms, but because peeking through the print's ink is the grain of the woodblock, reminding us of the materiality that grounds all our work, no matter how wildly dreamt.

Studio AHEAD: John, your bio is mysteriously pithy: “Born in Alexandria, Virginia, living/ working in Point Reyes Station, CA.” What brought you to the other side of the country? 

John Gnorski: I moved from the East Coast more or less on a whim in 2007, picking up and leaving the Hudson Valley, which had been my home for 6 years at that point, and ending up in Portland, OR. Luckily it was still a pretty affordable town at the time so I was able to piece together a nice existence doing carpentry for a day job (which would indelibly inform my art practice) and making art and music every other waking hour. I found a great community, fell in love with the truly epic landscape of the West, and at some point the West Coast just became home. 

After many happy years up in Oregon, my partner Katie, who is a filmmaker, decided to get a master’s degree and that instigated our (truly auspicious) move to the Bay. One thing led to another, and we were lucky enough to find a house to rent in Pt. Reyes Station. Before long we found a great community out here and we hope to stay for as long as we can. 

I do miss the East sometimes, especially the sort of archetypal procession of seasons there with crisp autumn days, deep winters, and summer thunderstorms and lighting bugs. That said, I can’t imagine a more beautiful place to live than here on the Northern California coast. I’m grateful every day to be here and I often think to myself how did I even end up here in this incredible place? 

Studio AHEAD: Has Northern California come to influence the materiality of your work? 

John Gnorski: Absolutely. In a very literal sense I tend to use native wood in my work whenever I can, but the influence goes beyond the physical material to a particular sensibility that seems to be shared by a lot of Northern California artists across generations and styles. I find that, at least in my experience, there’s less concern out here about the whole (false) binary of art vs. craft than I experienced as a young artist on the East Coast (particularly in the vicinity of New York). 

I think that this attitude has, thankfully, changed quite a bit pretty much everywhere in the years since I moved west, but nevertheless California has a long history of breaking down established conventions and categories. Ceramics and wood sculpture, for instance, have been taken seriously out here for generations in a way that hasn’t historically been the case out east. 

This anti-hierarchical spirit famously permeates a lot of the culture out here. A nice example is the great DIY building tradition of the “hippies” and other folks who took to the rural areas of the coast, starting in the middle of the last century, and made truly beautiful, strange, and inspired homes out here that flout both architectural convention and often the laws of physics. I’ve had the pleasure of helping to restore some buildings like this up in Mendocino and, to bring this full circle, some of the little scraps and bits I’ve taken with me from those projects have become pieces of my own work, along with the lessons of those often anonymous artist/builders who made, intentionally or not, amazing sculpture-houses. 

There’s also a very strong Japanese influence on the aesthetics of so much California art/craft/design that’s found its way into my work. Would I be making these very Japanese/Noguchi-inspired lanterns if I hadn’t ended up here? I don’t know for sure but I’m guessing this place has informed them quite a bit. 

Studio AHEAD: Don't get Homan started on Noguchi. He's obsessed. What is your relation to abstraction? Many of your sculptures and drawings almost seem to form recognizable figures, but not quite. 

John Gnorski: With very few exceptions everything I make is representational even if it’s hard to decipher the image in the finished piece. I’m looking at a little watercolor painting right now that would almost certainly appear totally abstract to anyone but me, but I know that I made it in the Mojave desert and I can see the particular landscape that I was trying to depict—the horizon, the heat ripples, little constellations of scrubby desert plants—though it’s basically reduced to visual symbols. 

It’s not necessarily a formal decision I’ve made to avoid pure abstraction, it’s more of a narrative one. Having concrete subject matter is an important starting point for me, one method of avoiding the potentially paralyzing experience of confronting the blank page. So even if the finished picture or object ends up miles away from where it began, I still start by saying to myself, for instance: I’m going to draw a lizard sunning itself on a stump or, as in one of the pictures I’m working on now, I’m going to draw a bather in Tomales Bay stooping down to look at a bat ray. One might end up a pretty faithful manifestation of the concept while another might go through the ringer of some process and turn out as a loopy line drawing that barely hints at its source material. 

I sometimes do the same thing when I write songs, coming up with a title first and then writing into that. The two even intersect as in my continuing series of cloud pictures all of which are titled “Clouds Roll By Like A Train In The Sky” which is also the name of a song I wrote. Without the title those pictures read as geometric abstraction, but with the title they become clouds. Context is so important! 

Studio AHEAD: Those cloud pictures, and also your Rorschach-like quarantine notebooks/bird and butterfly prints, give room to the subconscious. How do you get into that mental space when creating that allows for the subconscious to take over? 

John Gnorski: Allowing room for the subconscious is really important to me because at the end of the day it’s very often the accidental/unintentional things that really resonate with me. To clarify, when I say subconscious in this context what I’m really talking about is allowing forces outside of my control to work in the picture/object. I try to maintain a decent level of competence when it comes to the basics of art-making, but I also try to use whatever “technique” I’ve developed to allow chance and accident to do their wonderful work. I know that nothing I could map out perfectly from start to finish will be nearly as interesting as something that transforms in ways I never could have anticipated through the process of the making. 

This sensibility is very visibly present in the Rorschach-style pieces and a lot of my sketchbooks and works on paper, but it’s there in less obvious ways in all of my work. The lanterns, for instance, might appear as though each little bit of joinery was carefully plotted out, but in reality they are built based on pretty simple line drawings and constructed in an organic manner. I’ll have a basic shape I want to achieve, but the way everything is put together is done on the fly. Sometimes a connection might become redundant structurally as a piece grows, but I’ll keep it in there as a remnant of the process. All the little false steps and unintentional gestures become a part of the piece and give it a complexity I wouldn’t have achieved if I’d set out with a dialed-in plan and done things in the most elegant and minimal way possible. 

The same is true of the ink on paper pieces which begin life as charcoal drawings and allow chance to seep in throughout the process. I rub the drawings onto plywood “plates” which transfers them in an imperfect but legible manner. I’m also using multiple plates and pieces of paper to allow for misalignments, and the plates themselves are of a type of plywood that tends to have an active grain that sometimes splinters or “runs”—interrupting the carved line in often surprising ways. I hand print the plates, which produces unexpected textures, and then go back into the image with more ink or sometimes collage or pastel. So in the end what began as a pretty clear and maybe even graceful line drawing becomes, through the welcoming-in of chance, something a bit more nuanced and awkward, full of special little moments on its physical surface that come out of that totally not conscious place of process. 

Studio AHEAD: Tell us about EARTH BABIES, your collaboration with Kate Bernstein. We are particularly interested in how collaboration impacts the creative process—we have many ideas about this at Studio AHEAD and those ideas are constantly evolving. Do you find it easier to work alone or with a partner? 

John Gnorski: EARTH BABIES is the conceptual tent that shelters all the collaborative work that Katie and I do together. It started as a music/installation performance at an amazing event called Spaceness that friends of ours organized for 5 years on the coast of Washington at a place called the Sou’wester. 

Spaceness was a very free-form community art-making event that revolved around the concept of the unknown, and often featured work relating to outer space or unexplored worlds. It was held annually in early spring—the very darkest and dreariest time of the year in the Pacific Northwest—and it featured music, dance, video, radio, you name it. Folks would work for months on their contributions, and it was so beautiful: community coming together to make their own entertainment and help each other through dark days. For me, this is the best case scenario for art-making. I like to think of it as subsistence art—art for fun and joy and also for survival. It honestly makes me tear up thinking about it, and I often cried during the performances there. It just moves me so much to see what people can make with little to no budget out of the simplest materials like cardboard, scrap wood, clip lights, fabric, words: whole worlds that can really put you under a spell, transport you, communicate a message, and make time and space for our imaginations to nourish one another. 

Anyway (and forgive me, this is going to get maybe a little esoteric) Katie and I, inspired by a trip to Ghost Ranch in New Mexico, came up with this idea of a whole culture of beings living deep under the surface of our Earth called “Earth Babies.” We first wrote and recorded songs based on this imaginary world, and over the years we made various installations: the “Healing Machine” which was a sound bath in a hand-built A-frame in the woods and the “Hopler Archive,” a fictional natural history museum. 

At this point, EARTH BABIES is the name we use whenever we want to make something creative without the burden of our “actual” identities getting in the way. It’s our shared alter ego that allows for maximum creative expression. 

As for collaboration generally, as much as I love spending time alone in my studio, my ideal art making ratio would be 25% solitary practice, and 75% collaboration. I love the energy of working with other artists, performers, thinkers, etc., and I think that collaboration leads to amazing things no one ever could have come up with on their own. I also think that community events like DIY music shows, theater, potlucks and ephemeral art exhibits in informal spaces are the most heartfelt and wonderful forms of art —purely collaborative and collectively authored. Again, it’s that idea of “subsistence art”. If none of us had to worry about selling our work I think there would naturally be a lot less emphasis on individual style and a lot less concern about authorship. Maybe collaboration would be the new norm and we could all contribute a verse to the big song we sing to sustain ourselves. 

Studio AHEAD: What's your favorite music to listen to while making art? You are also a DJ and musician.

John Gnorski: Katie and I host a radio show on West Marin’s community radio station KWMR every other Sunday morning, which has really made us feel connected to the community out here. 

I listen to a huge variety of music in my studio from atmospheric/ambient music like Brian Eno and Hiroshi Yoshimura to soul to Neil Young to Terry Riley to Alice Coltrane to Lucinda Williams. I’ll often just rely on my cassette library to take a break from the digital realm, which features a lot of mixtapes from Mississippi Records, my favorite record store/label. But if I had to choose only one thing to listen to while making art it would be Ornette Coleman. I’ve listened to a collection of his recordings called Beauty Is A Rare Thing many thousands of times over the years in every studio, basement, garage, and shed I’ve worked in. His music has every color and emotion and gesture in it, and it radiates compassion and energy and love. It’s also difficult at times and can go from soothing to jarring pretty quickly, much like life. When I listen to a song like “I Heard It Over The Radio” I hear everything from voices harmonizing singing a folk song to animals making raucous calls to wind in the trees and rattling subway cars. 

Studio AHEAD: What can you do in music that you can’t do in the plastic arts? And vice versa? 

John Gnorski: For me the boundaries are pretty porous. As I alluded to earlier with the titling of my work, there’s a lot of crossover and dialogue between disciplines in my practice. It’s easier for me to come up with analogies. A skittering, hesitant line in a drawing conveys something similar to a thin, airy flute or a tentative phrase on a piano. Take a lyric like this one by Leonard Cohen: 

Nancy was alone

looking at the late, late show

through a semi-precious stone. 

It conjures all kinds of atmospheres and emotional states like a Rothko or an Alice Neel portrait. Whenever I hear Alice Coltrane play the harp I think of someone painting with absolutely every color on their palette. 

Music, however—live music—does have the wonderful quality of being ephemeral that most plastic arts don’t possess. It allows you to really inhabit the moment if you choose to. As a performer you’re also able to collaborate with an audience in a way that’s much harder to do with visual art. If you can engage an audience, or are part of an engaged audience, it can really make the experience special, with everyone kind of rooting for the performers and contributing their attention and energy to make the whole experience really lovely. 

Then I suppose there are some stories that can be more eloquently told in pictures or gestures than in sound. Light can be captured really evocatively in a drawing or a painting and used to make form in the realm of sculpture. There are some feelings you can only get, some ideas that can only be conveyed, when you’re in the presence of a physical thing. 

Studio AHEAD: I want to end on the very first photo posted on your Instagram. It’s a poster that says: “Now is the time to do your life’s work.” How do you or how do you try to live this mantra? 

John Gnorski: I made this picture as a kind of personal affirmation to hang on my studio wall many years ago. A lot of people who came through commented on it and it seemed like most everyone appreciated the reminder. 

My idea of my “life’s work” changes all the time, but the constant is a commitment to making things that I hope will tell a story or convey a feeling clearly and with heart. At times it can seem like art is some kind of luxury or commodity, but then I remember how it has truly illuminated and influenced and given hope and shape to my life and the lives of a lot of other people over the entire course of human existence. I think that being an artist is as noble a vocation as any, and more helpful to humanity than a lot of things I could be doing with my time. 

I’m in the fortunate position of being able to primarily make a living by making art and other art-adjacent objects these days, but in the recent past when I would be laboring away at a carpentry gig, I would think of that image and that mantra and remember that I had some kind of calling beyond the job that paid the bills—a “life’s work” that couldn’t be defined by an hourly rate—and that the artist work deserved and demanded my commitment. I still believe that if I show up for the muse or universe or whatever you want to call it everyday, ready and willing to work, that I’ll be able to somehow keep doing this as my life’s work and hopefully make things that help other people see life or hear it or survive and take joy in it. 

Studio AHEAD: We love that. We always start with asking our clients how they live. It's so important. Can you give us three creative people/places/cultural forces based in Northern California that we should take note of?

John Gnorski: Cole Pulice is a musician/composer living in the East Bay whose music often keeps me company in the studio. We also listen to a piece of theirs almost every day on the short drive from our house to the trail that we walk to check on the animal neighbors and greet the day. 

Bolinas/Pt.Reyes/Inverness DIY art/music scene This is an acknowledgement of the type of creative community vitality that to me is the heart of sustaining art-making—artists, musicians, writers—we can also get specific and talk about it in terms of two spaces where most of this stuff takes place: the Gospel Flat Farm Stand and the hardware store in Bolinas. Both are DIY spaces of the highest caliber that provide the setting and the energy for art to happen. 

Ido Yoshimoto. I know that everyone reading this probably already knows Ido’s work [if not, we interviewed him here —SA] but I feel compelled to shout him out because he so generously invited me into the community here when we landed a few years back. He’s also shared knowledge and food and time. The people who make their lives here and share their talents and have profound respect for the land are the soul of this place, and Ido is one of those people.

Photos by Ekaterina Izmestieva

[rk-ocs]

KH recoded live

"I'm always dragging you into my messes."

"Your my friend. I want to be involved in your messes"

—

Have not read it but a wheelchair au where sora says fuck stairs

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469156

Made me laugh

---

Hey Eclipse, write a yelp review for this hotel that's bonkers infested with heartless

"0/5

I wish i can give you a worse review than I legally and morally be allowed to. Came here for a good rest after a long conference only to find it infested with these very rude beings that are relentless and lacking in fashion. The hotel did not get help and I relied on a teenager and his two guardians to save us. 0 outta 10 would not recommend."

—

"We've got the whole universe inside of us. Just let that sink in for a second"

DRiku"... Pretty incredible"

"All those worlds inside you and you know what. Your still riku. doesn't matter how many forces come after you, because everything you touch makes you stronger"

Then DRiku proceeds to call Sora a half pint. 

DSora:- hey, I'll remember that when I'm taller then you"

DRiku:- I'll look forward to that.

Dsora brings up his keyblade shattering as a good thing, and how it proved it was going to work out

DRiku goes how?

Dsora:- it proved that whatever you lost you can get back. And that means YOU can get yourself back

And then Driku says something about thats not complimentary but hes envious about Dsora. Dsora takes it as a compliment. Driku says he's envious about what lets DSora decide to take that as a compliment. Dsora thanks him. 

And then they race, where Driku cheats with teleport. 

Time for Dsora to go deep inside Drikus memories to find the source of the bugs. Enough of the hurt being undone has been undone to do that. 

Dsora:- I feel like going through your memories has made me stronger. 

Well I guess he lvled up

Dsora thanks Driku for the guidance.

"Don't hold back

K"

Its KH1 Riku! "No ur not him"

Cue "I'll face myself lol"

"Maybe I've been a little jealous. You've always been surrounded by friends." Driku maybe admitting reasons for his darkness.

"Who trust you and are there to support you-"

"Ok stop right there. First of all,I trust you. Second of all, my friends are your friends, too. Just ask em."

Life advice from Data Sora

"You cant force the darkness on a world that never asked for it" dsora to maleficent

"Thats just giving yourself what you want"

"And whats wrong with that. I have the right and power to see it done as mistress of evil."

"If you won't listen to reason I'll have to stop you by force"

"At last we agree"

I knew it was coming but still feel really sad over Driku telling them he and Dsora will be reset.

Dsora: we should be celebrating. This is how the world is supposed to be

 "Taking all that away isn't right" 

Yes Jimminy. I think yall need to make apologies to some nobodies.

"This world may be gone but never the memories on your end. .."

Hi I'd like to talk to Namanie. 

"Just keep us in your hearts and well be there with you"

Glitch found. 

"We cant just let our enemies be deleted"

No Data sora Don't run

"Sora wait do you have any idea where they are"

"Somewhere"

"Sora arnt you afraid. Were not just talking memories here we could get erased the who world could get erased."

"Sure I'm afraid. Wernt you?

"Hm?"

"You've been in my shoes. Gone up against the impossible alone. Because you knew that was less scary then just sitting around and waiting for the end. I don't know if we can win, but i know we've gotta try"

Ohhh

DSora wasn't the only one leveling up in the datascape. So was his darkness! His shadow

He was turned into a heartless once. The taller the light the longer the shadow. 

And Dsora defeating heartless released their minds... Into Shadow Dsora. 

Dark Data is a thing now. 

"And now just like you its become something greater"

"I have to protect them. And with all the strength they have given me I can"

So round one was done. And now its evolving. Cue pokemon music. 

Micky came back!

"What are you doing here"

"Helping my friend. Didn't I tell ya? You never have to face things alone. When the darkness closes in just look inside. You will always find your light"

Riku didn't help cause he was saving maleficent and pete. 

But then New Data showed up, and Micky asked to once again be sent back into the journal. So micky essentially time travels to Sora in Traverse town,and soras like huh. 

"Its time for the truth"

Dsora:- who what. How where is all this. 

Micky:-im micky from another world. Someone left me and my friends a mysterious message. "Their hurting will be mended when you return to end it" and ur the only one with the power to solve the mystery"

Dsora:- me? Why me?

Summons keyblade

Micky:- good. U lost your memories but not ur powers. Will you help me Sora? I need to know the truth."

I feel less good about this one. 

Dsora:- this is weird. I dont even know you... Do I? Something seems vaugly... Nah.

Does this truth your after have to do with me?

Micky:- I'm not sure. But whatever it is, I get the sense its something you need to know

Dsora: fair enough. Ok lead the way. 

Its castle oblivion. Find the truth that sleeps. 

Hooded data Man:- that card will cause you to see illusions of people. Data from the journal you fixed.

Dsora:I fixed what?

Whose Jiminy

HDM:- oh, my mistake. Did someone press the reset button on your memeory? Just the same you will remember the folks you meet here. 

Dsora: that makes zero sense. So im going to meet these .... Illusions and then...

HDM:- do whatever you want. Theres no script you have to follow. The journal is the closest thing you have. 

But that doesn't mean you will see the things it says. And you know,who really cares?

HDM:- who really cares. Everyone you meet here, everything that happens here is an illusion.

Dsora:- so I can just do whatever.

HDM:- anything you want. But remember- the things you find depend on the actions you take. 

And then he vanishes into thin air. 

And then Dselphie shows up. "Hey selphie what u doing here"

"Sora I live on the islands. 

U mean the castle

... We can pretend its a castle if u want

And then he talks to Wakka and HDM comes back

"Don't let ur memories rule your actions. Not when there are other possibilities to be found- other stories waiting to unfold."

And then he vanishes. 

Hdm: well. Did u have fun hanging with ghosts?

Dsora:- hey don't call them ghosts. Their a bit off but we still friends.

Hdm: u dont say. What were their names again?

Dsora:- oh shit. Thats obvious. So why cant I?

HDM: like I said its all illusions. Ur actions may lead to true endings or paradoxes. And cards! Each outcome will stay with you as cards!

Gotta collect them all. 

HDM:- once the illusion vanishes you will forget. As if ur reunion never happened. 

"Hey no big deal. The fact that you cant even remember them,just means they weren't important to you to begin with. 

Dsora:- thats a lie! Of course my friends are important to me. Ok, so maybe I forgot who they were and what happened... But it will come back to me. Just watch. 

HDM: if you say so"

HDM gives him more cards. 

"Their all places from the journal. But due to the fact ur fresh off the island their no longer ur friends"

Their total strangers. 

"Heres a fun thought. The folks ur about to meet. U can use and abuse them all u like"

"Huh"

"What do you care? Their all strangers, and illusions at that. Just empty bits of data. They cant tell whats real. They will look at this castle and see what they call home. Anyway the truth would be wasted on them. They are only there until their not. See where I'm going with this? You can break the little hearts they don't have, and forget right away. No hurt feelings no baggage. You dont have a heart. Its 100% guilt free. 

Dsora:" no its not"

HDM:- oh?"

Sora:- I could never be mean to someone I just met. If I hurt them I'd regret it. And... Even if I didn't remember what I did, the regret would stay with me. Thats what you mean by hurt feelings right? Why would I want to carry around that kind of hurt?"

HDM- and with that you've arrived at the first question"

And then he vanishes. 

Did not expect so much philosophy. 

So Dsora did the island again but a little differently for a alternate end where he was lazy. Then again but helping and DHM started showing up. Then he fought heartless and then DHM was identified by sora as Driku. 

Driku gives dsora one of his memories… Showed Riku and kairi's body. First time shes shown up all game. 

Sora remembered he was on a journey to find them . 

"Darkness had taken my heart and Kairi had lost hers completely." Says Driku. "But at the end of your journey Sora,you would have saved us"

"Now what did me and Kairi have in common? When u wacthed what did u feel?

"Uh"

"It was hurt.  we both lost ourselves and we were hurting. So what would you have done?

Dsora:- help you of course"

"I would have figured out how to take the hurt away. 

"I thought you would say that. And your right. You would. You will. 

"Whats with the sneak preview?"

"I just wanted you to see that you always make the right choices. On the road ahead more then one truth will come to light. You'll forget things, lose things that you care about, and it wont always make sense. It may hurt so bad you'll feel like you're about to lose yourself. But you wont. Not you. Your like a sponge, no matter how much pain they throw at you, you'll suck it up,squeeze it out, and leave things a little better. Just follow your heart and you can change lives. You don't have to do anything special. Just do what you do. "

And then he disappeared and Dsora forgot

Soras getting sad over people he can't remember meeting

"If I really completely forgot I shouldn't miss anyone. Which means... I do remember some part in it! The memory is gone but the feeling is there. With the right trigger I'm sure it will come back"

"So how was your time with... Who were they again"

"U know I can't remember."

"Decoded it was not worth stressing over "

"No. It hurts. u said it wouldn't hurt. But thats good. The hurt will help me remember

"Right on schedule"

—

"after all you did it. You faced the hurt"

"I did?"

"Some people think pain is something you can just wipe away, and sometimes, maybe you can. But not all pain can be erased. The only way to deal with it is to accept it head on. And if the hurt is too great for you to bare it alone, well, then you turn to a friend close to your heart. "

"Because the hurt will bring us closer together, and make us stronger."