#petrified zine

[ancient-qveen]

Ihsahn and Ildjarn (1993)

bonus emperor pics below

(Pictures 3 & 5 from Petrified zine issue no. 2, 1993)

The singular person standing between the two sculptures on the Ildjarn album cover is Ildjarn (Vidar Våer), who Ihsahn provided session vocals for in 1993.

Ildjarn is the one who took these two iconic pictures of Ihsahn, Samoth and Faust, also at the same place as Ildjarn's album cover: Patmos Sculpture Park in Akkerhaugen, Norway. Taken in 1992. Bård says it's his favourite picture from this era.

[marilynlennon]

Don’t Dictate: How DIY Punk Changed Music

Defiantly anti-establishment, punk’s DIY stance shocked the music industry in the 70s, but its influence can still be felt today – as uDiscover reveals.

Published on August 1, 2016 By Tim Peacock

After the UK’s premier punks, Sex Pistols, lambasted presenter Bill Grundy during their expletive-stuffed slot on Thames TV’s Today show in December 1976, the music industry received a short – but very sharp – shock.

Daily Mirror Filth And The Fury Headline - 300The immediate fallout was far-reaching. With the press having a field day, Sex Pistols became household names overnight, and the term “punk” (previously of cult-level interest) suddenly gained widespread exposure. Petrified promoters duly cancelled most of Sex Pistols’ scheduled Anarchy UK tour dates, and, early in January ’77, a beleaguered EMI eventually dropped the band from their roster, reputedly paying £40,000 for the privilege.

Suddenly, punk appeared too hot to handle. Yet while this defiant new genre’s very existence apparently posed a threat to the music industry’s established status quo, it ultimately dissipated with a whimper, rather than a bang. Having eventually signed to Virgin Records, Sex Pistols split in disarray in January ’78; their nearest rivals, The Clash, set their sights on America; by the turn of the 80s, “punk” had been neutered and hijacked by hordes of identikit, Mohican-sporting Exploited clones.

Punk Politics: Fighting The Power, From Sex Pistols To Anti-Flag

‘Metal Box’: Lifting The Lid On Public Image Ltd’s Seminal Second Album

‘Autoamerican’: How Blondie Became ‘The Most Modern Band’ On Earth

The Beatles - Now And Then

Sniffin' Glue - Now Form A Band - 300However, one aspect of punk’s anti-establishment ideology endures to this day: its inherent DIY ethos, most often identified with the quintessential punk commandment: “This is a chord, this is another, this is another… now form a band!” Incorrectly attributed to Mark Perry’s seminal punk fanzine Sniffin’ Glue (the quote actually appeared, along with the relevant chord shapes, in the January ’77 edition of punk ’zine, Sideburns), this impassioned plea to create – and promote – music independently is always associated with 1976, yet there are pre-punk precedents. In North America, for example, Californian power-pop label Beserkley had been operating outside of the mainstream since 1973, while Cleveland’s avant-garde pioneers Pere Ubu released their landmark debut single ‘30 Seconds Over Tokyo’ on their own Hearthan label in 1975.

DIY, however, figured prominently in punk’s manifesto right from the start.

[sammywarddraws]

A digital illustration using Procreate for a TTRPG ‘Zine titled Legacies Broken/Fulfilled published by Girls Write These Worlds. This was for a setting written by Sir Hecka Lot. I had a lot fun taking the spookier element of the petrified corpses of previous travellers that dwelled at the bottom of the canyon. If you like TTRPG supplements this ‘zine is filled with brilliant additions and lovely art work from a diverse team of creative women. You can get a copy here: girlswritetheseworlds.itch.io/zine-2

[kingworm]

The List

- pastries

- coffee (particularly mochas)

- junk journals

- dandelion/butterscotch yellow

- chocolate

- stone fruits

- sturdy black boots

- warm blankets

- the smell of campfire smoke

- slow mornings

- long gabs with friends over food

- lightning (especially when purple or blue)

- trinkets

- collages

- heavy rain on an overcast day

- the sound of fire crackling

- vinyls and cds

- soft animals

- stickers

- warm days with clear skies & a cool breeze

- bugs chirping

- discussing film & shows

- soft warm hued lights

- smell of a forest after the rain

- drives home to think

- cartoon dogs

- mulled wine

- spiced pear

- keychains and carabiners

- pineapple slices

- reading book passages & poems aloud

- thickened cream on warm desserts

- errand-running with loved ones

- thin-crust pizzas

- laughing through kisses

- bulky mismatched rings

- crisp fresh paper

- smell of turkish rose

- spontaneous calls from friends

- smell of ink from a lino press

- stomach aches from laughter

- being animatedly explained something

- second hand furniture

- wildflower front lawns

- large ornate mirrors

- dark wood grains

- charcuterie boards (with brie & cheddar)

- kettle chips

- australian native bouquets

- cassette tapes

- book smell

- chainmail fashion

- matching socks

- forehead/head kisses

- overcrowded greenery

- found-family stories

- lino-cut illustrations

- personalised CDs and cassettes

- ‘reminded me of you’ texts

- kicking feet over a high surface

- cleanly wrapping a present

- cupping the sides of someones face

- handmade crafts

- match box designs

- illustrations on tinned fish cans

- mismatched gallery walls

- the snap of dark chocolate

- ornate frames

- eating with your hands

- homemade birthday cake

- physical ticket stubs

- postcards

- hand-made mugs

- physical calendars

- restaurant ramen bowls

- dried flowers

- hand painted tiles

- chai

- warm chocolate chip cookies

- soup & pho

- scented hand cream

- dark leather bags

- fruit & citrus sorbet

- crochet bonnets & beanies

- concept albums

- huggable plushes in bed

- hand-written letters & playlists

- physical photographs

- unique icecream flavours

- magnets

- silk pillow cases

- bass-heavy songs

- fresh warm buttered popcorn

- zines

- artistic local event posters

- cuddly pets

- sour lollies

- petrified wood

- kintsugi

- patchwork

- raspberries (sauce, topping, flavour)

- riso print

- water reflecting light

- glow-in-the-dark sticker stars

- old illustrations of comets and stars

- jewel tones

- paperback books

- rainbows

- kotatsu

- sea glass

- red brick buildings

- mixed badges (especially vintage)

- animatics and comics

- dappled sunlight from trees

- coffee flavoured dessert

- turrets on houses

- sourdough toast

- autumnal colours

- hand paintings on walls or furniture

- the harvey ball smiley face

- mexican tile

- oversized jackets and coats

- corduroy

- woven tapestries

- scrapbooking

- knitted leg warmers

- iridescent seashells

- bookmarks

- scrunchies

the haters would hate to see the personalised list of over 120+ things which i love & appreciate when i feel worn down by the world they’d hate to see it

[visual-aggressor]

[aearmstraing]

Petrified ‘ZIne, the best to ever come out of the US.  Produced by the cat who ran FMP, between whom and Vlad Tepes (yeah: that one) a hilarious (read: honestly pretty stupid) feud took place and underlined that, no, the French do not understand American backwoods mentality.

[spoolesofthread]

been vibrating out of my skin w pure joy and excitement the last couple days

[laikacore]

Worlds of Laika Wallace: an introduction to Silent Woods

Silent Woods is one of many names given to a secret, magical realm that exists alongside every planet and moon. Its main purpose is to act as a time capsule for lost life, providing a snapshot of extinct life and ancient landscapes that you can fully immerse yourself in with varying degrees of risk.

The Woods are endlessly massive, spanning every moment of history and crisscrossing over itself and the “real” or Outside world in a confusing web that can get newcomers and natives alike lost. It can house mountain ranges as high as the sky, sunken ship graveyards far below the ocean, cities lost to time, rolling plains and dense forests.

The Woods are not easy to find, and once you’ve found them, they can be difficult to leave as well. Since they function as a sanctuary for the planet’s life, they do a very good job of protecting it, and can make themselves impossible to reach for those who have bad intentions, even if one were to follow every instruction left by someone who successfully entered. Entrances and exits can change and move seemingly randomly, spitting people out sometimes thousands of miles away from what would have been a journey of a single step.

The Woods on Earth take on a special quality, too, that makes encounters like that more frequent and more dangerous: it is not only the extinct species and old landscapes that are present there. Stories of all kinds influence what happens in the woods, from folklore to fiction to a child’s belief in magic. Fantastic creatures like dragons and unicorns roam the Woods, and whether that means they were once like any other animal on Earth or if they were purely generated by the power of the Woods is up to debate.

There are places in the Woods where elves and orcs trade in the lush blue meadows around snow capped mountains teeming with snow vultures and dire wolves, where cities of polish marble and gleaming petrified wood surround a sprawling underwater cemetery, and where an arc of stones so large they’ve grown their own ecosystems hang like a solar system over a valley of giants.

But these places are hidden deep, deep within the Woods, under the utmost protection. The average person from the Outside will find bits and pieces of the Woods’ influence in their life, when missing objects turn up unexpectedly, a familiar walk brings you to a whole new place that you struggle to find again, or when you see a cat that isn’t quite a cat escaping into the sewers of your suburb before you can pull out your camera.

The source of this special quality is not unique to Earth, but brings a lot of attention from otherworldly sources...

Silent Woods is the main setting in my stories. Town Ghosts, an upcoming novella which will be available on my website shortly, takes place on the edge of the Woods, as well as my previously published short story Awful Moon, which is available in the Fear & Trembling zine and the X/Y: A Junk Drawer of Trans Voices zine, and Grandma’s Stories, which is also available in X/Y: A Junk Drawer of Trans Voices.

[harrypotter-imaginess]

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine

Based on this Headcanon list (x) : Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! <This is Part 5!>

A/N: As said, I switched to a headcanon list because we have 7 books to get through, and it will take years if I only do the blurbs. Oh, and if you are in the market for some cute pro-Weasley shirts, check out my 'Weasley Suprmeacy' shirt here!

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

* It’s your third year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter’s second, and you’re having a pretty good year so far

* You’ve made your house team, and you’re doing pretty good in school, in fact, you’ve got a knack for potions and herbology

* “Good thing too or we’d be stuck up a creek without ya” Fred says grinning as he watches you show him how to make the simple “cure for boils” potion

* “And not sooner either, these things hurt more than you think” George complains, wincing every time he touches one

* “Well what did you think was going to happen when you tried to go into the girl’s changing room?” You ask with a sigh

* “In our defense we didn’t know it was the girls changing room, we just wanted a shortcut to the pitch”

* You hide a smile, that sounds about right

* Life is pretty good

* Until it isn’t

* “Enemy’s of the heir beware” the words leave your mouth in a murmur

* Your eyes trained on the blood-coated words on the wall

* You think you're going to be sick

* “That’s right you’ll be next mudbloods!” Draco shouts and immediately you feel two hands clasp both of your shoulders

* One is Fred’s and the other is George’s

* They insist on walking you back to your dorm

* “Really I’ll be fine, you should go check on your brother, Ginny was looking a little pale too” you insist but they keep pushing you forward

* “We can do that after you get back to your common room safely”

* If you’re Muggle-born they’re really protective of you over the next few months

* You’ve woken up to taping on your window more than once, yawning as you walk over to see who it is

* Only to see your favorite red-headed pair of doppelgängers

* “Couldn’t sleep” Fred says with a yawn

* “We were too afraid the heir of Slytherin would kill us in our sleep” George adds

* “Best we sleep here, so you can protect us and keep us safe” they finish in unison

* The next morning your dorm mates wake up to see them sleeping on the floor at the foot of your bed, drooling all over each other, wands clasped in their hands

* They absolutely refuse to let you stay in the castle for Christmas

* “Nope, no, no way in bloody hell,” George says defiantly

* “But I want-“

* “If you’ve got a death wish, you can just come home with us and eat mum’s cooking-”

* “So good you’ll go to heaven”

* They’re tugging you to the station before you can even protest

* “What about Ron?” You ask

* “What about Ron? He’s a big boy, besides it looks like those three are scheming-“ George starts

* “Schemings best left to the young ones, us old-timers have no place in it, best for us to go home and have some Christmas pudding, isn’t that right Percy?”

* Percy, who was only passing by gives you three a quizzical look before turning away with a shake of his head

* “Whatever nonsense you’re up to, leave me out of it”

* Fred turns to you with a grin

* “See even Percy agrees, leave the nonsense to the youngins’”

* Percy just keeps shaking his head

* “Come, Ginny, let’s sit somewhere away from them- don’t want you to be around bad influences”

* Their parents are thrilled to meet you

* “So you’re (Y/N)! We’ve heard so much about you-“

* So the twins talk about you at home huh?

* “- from Percy, he says your next in line to make prefect in your house,” she says patting you affectionately on the shoulder

* Percy nods from behind her

* “Cedric’s been recommending you to Sprout” He adds

* Your face burns and the twins grin behind you

* “Prefect (Y/N) I like the sound of that” George says with a mischievous grin

* “Don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous, soaking in the prefect bathroom like a big shot”

* You roll your eyes

* “Well since I’m such a big shot I guess I can overlook when you explode a toilet or two”

* The Weasley’s stay up until well past midnight for Christmas

* Molly knits you a matching scarf for the sweater she gave you last year

* “Well doesn’t it look dashing on you!” She says with a smile and she wraps it around your neck

* George and Fred are nervous you might not like it but you grin

* “I love it”

* George scrambles over

* “You want my scarf too?” He says already unwrapping his from around his neck

* “Take mine too, you look awfully cold,” Fred says

* There’s a Polaroid somewhere of you swaddled in five scarfs while Ginny and the twins laugh

* Percy is in the background looking disappointed- but one of those scarves is how

* At night, when the sleeping arrangements are all drawn up you’re with Ginny

* You lie side by side in her bed, you’re half asleep

* “Can I talk to you about something”

* You yawn and nod, not moving

* And then when she doesn’t say anything you say-

* “About Harry?”

* There’s another silence, but this one feels heavier somehow, and it wakes you up a bit

* “Just send him some chocolates for Valentine’s Day” you yawn patting her shoulder

* “Sign it with ‘your secret admirer’ if it makes you too nervous” you yawn again, feeling your eyes droop

* Is that why she’s been looking so sick lately? Too many nights lying awake at night thinking about a boy who doesn’t share her feelings

* “You know Ginny if something does nothing but cause you pain, and I know it’s not very Gryffindor-like, but you can just walk away from it yknow” you’re slurring, barely awake.

* “I can’t just walk away?” She asks and you nod

* “Of course you can”

* And then you fall asleep

* Completely forgetting about the conversation until it’s Valentine’s Day and you see Harry followed around by a singing valentine

* “So this is the fantastic advice you gave Ginny?” George asks, a teasing smile lifting onto his face

* “I told her to give chocolates! I don’t know a boy alive who doesn’t like sweets”

* “Well where’s our chocolate then?” Fred asks expectantly

* You look to George for some support, but he’s looking at you expectantly too

* “Oh I get it, all your chocolates are saved for pretty boy Diggory”

* You roll your eyes and shake your head while walking away

* What’s up with them and thinking that you have a crush on Cedric

* They do come back to their dorms with small bags of chocolate on their beds, just two pieces each

* But they smile like you gave them a lump of gold

* “Did you make them by hand?” One teases

* “Tasted like they were made with love, and all those warm fuzzy feelings” the other finishes

* You roll your eyes

* “You should just be glad the house-elf I found didn’t mind me taking a bit of chocolate”

* It surprises both of them that you actually did make them by hand

* They were really just teasing

* George is the one to make the first move

* “Well next time you go invite us too, I think it would be fun to learn how to make chocolates”

* George wraps an arm around your shoulders

* “We could give them to Snape and make him think he has a secret admirer,” Fred says with a grin, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders as well

* “Send him a singing Telegraph and everything” George grins

* You shake your head and laugh, what a couple of bozos

* It is pretty funny to see Snape get all flustered though

* They get even more protective when Muggle-born students start getting petrified

* You’re never without one, or both of them

* “Looks like your bodyguard is here,” Cedric says with a teasing smile when he sees George waiting in the corridor outside your class for you

* You nod, moving to go meet him when you feel a gentle touch on your arm

* “Let him know that if he’s ever looking for a career change, I’ll gladly fill the spot” he ruffles your hair before you leave and you can see the teasing coming from a mile away

* But George doesn’t say anything when you walk over to him, walking together to transfigurations in moderate silence

* “So you and Diggory are pretty close” he finally says, breaking the silence

* You look up at him, his eyebrows are threaded together and his mouth is pinched into a frown

* It makes you think about the time you thought that maybe they wouldn’t spend as much time with you anymore when you were brewing the amortentia potion

* “Yeah but we’re closer,” you say bumping your shoulder against his arm, he laughs

* “That’s true”

* The mischievous glint in his eyes returns

* “I doubt he’ll feel the same once he finds out you drool in your sleep”

* You roll your eyes shoving him lightly which earns a laugh

* “I mean really (Y/N), it’s just a bit excessive innit? Most mornings your pillow is more drool than Cotten at this point, you should really get it checked-“

* You shove him harder laughing when he starts laughing

* “Big words from the boy who snores so loud his dorm mates left him floating on the lake”

* “It wasn’t my dorm mates, it was Fred and he did it to because I pretended I was him when I said something that upset Oliver Wood”

* Your eyebrows thread together

* Haven’t seen much of Oliver around now that quidditch has been canceled

* “What did you say?”

* George turns bright red and turns away

* “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time around that keeper for Hufflepuff lately” Wood was especially cranky as of late now that quidditch was canceled for the rest of the year

* And George doesn’t know why, but he gets so irked by it

* What does Wood care who he spends time with off the pitch? It’s not like he’s been taking it easy on you during matches or anything

* “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to talk to someone you’re attracted to”

* And then realizing how it sounded, and flushing red George claimed he was Fred

* He sounded like he was a jealous boyfriend or something

* It’s almost mortifying

* Almost

* “Nothing, don’t worry about it”

* And it’s the first sign for George that someone might have seen something in him that he hasn’t noticed

* But for now that doesn’t matter

* Because you’re here telling jokes like nothing’s changed

* When Ginny gets taken to the chamber you’re sitting with George and Fred in their dorm hugging them close

* You showed up outside their window on your broom, tapping on the glass until they opened it and enveloped you in a hug

* “Maybe it’s just one big mistake, and she’ll pop out any second saying she got lost on her way to the loo”

* “Maybe,” Fred says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it

* “Everything’s going to be fine,” George says

* And you nod, because you really hope it does

* And by morning Ron and Harry show up covered in dirt with Ginny behind them who looks like she did at first

* With color on her face and vibrancy you haven’t seen on her all year

* “So good old Gildy was a fraud all along huh?”

* “Coulda fooled me”

* And then just like that you’re on the train home

* Joking with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George about Percy’s secret girlfriend

* “It feels like it was just yesterday we were getting off the train and starting the year,” you say slightly wistful

* “Speak for yourself, Oliver Wood nearly killed me at practice with punishment drills for something I said apparently” Fred groans

* “Best to leave the adventuring to the young ones” George grins teasing you as you step onto the platform

* And just like that, it’s over

* And just like that it’ll be a new school year

* And the beginning of a new adventure

[ofmdzine]

Avast ye! Our third weekly prompt is afoot 🏴‍☠️

These are no pressure, open-ended ideas that are aimed to foster creativity 💖 Interpret them as you wish!

This week’s prompt: TOKENS!

A branded knife, a piece of worn silk, a petrified orange. These are items our crew hold dear. Tokens of the past and perhaps, the future. Your piece can be about an existing "token" or a new one you grant them. An origin story, an introspective piece, or perhaps a metamorphosis. Have fun with it!

Anyone can join! Use the hashtag #ofmdzinetalentshow and we’ll share some of your work 🖌💕  Feel free to block the hashtag if you wish to keep your feed clean!

P.S. A reminder that you can still register to be in this open call zine 👀 so come join our crew at the link in the pinned post (we have a prompts channel)! Get artsy, crew!

[blackmetalinferno]

Blakkheim (Anders Nyström) from Katatonia. 🇸🇪

This photo was used for Petrified Zine.

[ancient-qveen]

Faust interview in Petrified zine issue no. 3 summer 1994

This is freshly imprisoned Bård and ofc he's going to be an edgelord so cw.. (also my silly comments below)

Who turned you in?

Well, many people from the black metal scene in Norway told the police about me, but there is especially one guy, and that is Mortiis, said a lot to the police and believe it or not, but now he goes around bragging to other people that he's responsible for me getting arrested and he also says I'm a coward and such stuff.... You don't know how much this pisses me off... I can't wait until the day I meet him again (with a baseball bat). I will crush his knees and destroy his face. Even if I shall have to wait 15 years, I shall take my revenge for this. He has his own solo-band now simply called Mortiis, and I would recommend people to not support him nor the band. He's a rip-off, liar and he's false as shit...

oop girrrrrl💀💀💀 imagine this smug lil fucker snitching (still love him tho) and bård beating him up for it and ik bard was salty about mortiis being successful idc if he claimed to have moved on

What is your opinion about Varg Vikernes and what he has done to Euronymous?

I refuse to comment...

Did he not comment for legal reasons or what? Bc i want to hear him threaten vrag like he did mortiis and worse T_T ik he was in love with euro so.. argh

How do you know that Mortiis told the police a lot of shit? (That is shitty, he deserves what is coming to him...)

First of all...l have read about all the questionings the police made about me after I was arrested in august'93, so I know who's been talking shit and who's not. Anyway, this lousy Mortiis guy was the one who said the worst things about me and even said some things that have caused me a lot of trouble (things that haven't got anything to do with the murder). Anyway, I will "visit" him some day.

the whole beef between mortiis faust and samoth is so funny to me. Heres some excerpts from mortiis talking about it in zines and he also had beef with hellhammer (who supported faust) lmao the girlies are fighting and ihsahn is mediating 😭

..."illegal videos"?

Yeah, I had some snuff-movies, but they were only confiscated, nothing more happened with them

So regarding this, in an earlier 1992 interview with Faust while he was in Thorns, he was talking about how he wanted to own snuff films, film his own snuff films, and other types of illegal films I dont want to repeat here... Read it here if you want, it's the second last question. "it makes the pleasure bigger when you think of the pain behind such movies"...???

bård, pookie... bffr... you dont have to "pretend" (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

[euronymous-files]

Interview for Petrified ‘zine, 1994

Here is a question I have asked a few other bands featured in this issue: What is your opinion on the Norwegian scene now, as compared to when Euronymous was alive? FENRIZ: The scene in Norway inspires the rest of the world. Ergo, now it is out of control here in Norway (no clear profile, really), so it is CHAOS in the rest of the world’s Black Metal scene.

Then what do you think of all the attention the Norwegian scene has received? FENRIZ: Natural. Norway is the land of Black Metal – it is a fact. I don’t like P.R. myself.

What bands from Norway should receive your support? FENRIZ: I do not support: bands who rip- off lyrics from other bands, people who use wigs because they should look more Black Metal on special occasions, sadly we have no internal board on censorship of shit after Euronymous died, so IDIOTS can just release what they want and get a record deal outside Norway without approval of the true bands and people.

---------------------

read the full interview here

[miss-tc-nova]

A Way Into the Future - Luxu

Alright, we’ve got the green light kiddos! So, without further ado, here’s my piece for the Shattered Fates - Foretller Zine. Enjoy!

Music Inspiration: I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead - Set It Off

~~~~~

              Footsteps echo off the stone walls of the underpass beneath the Outer Gardens. One set—much faster than the other—struggles, moving unsteadily and with a lot of panic. It’s no wonder considering the owner of said steps took quite a beating. He put up a decent fight, but poor Braig had no hope of prevailing against his tormentor: a legend, a man of time, a Master—Luxu.

              Ruthless yellow lights barely have the power to illuminate the tunnels, but the young man doesn’t need to see to know the man hunting him is not far behind.

              As the black coat stalks persistently closer, his prey stumbles down the path, unaware that he’s being driven straight into a trap—doing everything that the stalker had intended to a T. Luxu has spent many years refining a variety of skills, both combative and strategic; coercing his victims into his snare is child’s play. Decades of thought have gone into formulating the criteria for his perfect vessel and, unfortunately for the young man, he matches every point perfectly. 

              Unbeknownst to the Radiant Garden native, Luxu had scouted his playground days prior to this encounter and had collapsed the only escape that gave his victim any prospect. His hope is effectively crushed at the sight of the clogged tunnel. 

              Eyes wide with pure terror, he turns back to Luxu. The sharpshooter has a quick draw, even in fear, but it proves just as useless as it had before. Barely any thought is spent on the barrier that prevents the bullets from reaching their mark.

              “I already told you resisting me was useless,” Luxu drawls. “All this fear and pain could’ve been avoided if you had just done as I asked. But I guess it’s only fair to assume any self-respecting warrior worth his salt would struggle.”

              Backed against the debris, the kid quivers. To his merit, he maintains his aim, despite how utterly doomed he is. 

              “What do you want with me?!”

              Luxu pauses his approach. “Hmm, let’s see—that brand new job you just took at the castle is a good start.”

              “A job? You want my job? I-I can talk to my boss! Just let me talk to Ansem!”

              “I hate to tell you, kid, but I need more than your job. I need your entire existence. Or more specifically, I need your body.” The boy’s petrified face goes pale. “My scapegoat has finally arrived; things are about to get very interesting and your life perfectly fits all my needs. Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop struggling; I’d like to avoid injuring that body any more than necessary.” 

              As he closes the gap and the boy cowers beneath him, Luxu recalls how he came to be here, stealing the bodies of young men. 

~~~~~

              “Master, what is this?” the young man asks, looking over the paper and not entirely sure he’s read it correctly. 

              As he has many times before, Luxu stands in the Master’s study. The room is filled with books, vials, and plenty of objects of which Luxu couldn’t even guess the purpose of. The only thing he can be sure of is that none of it is as it seems, and that broad statement brings with it its own sense of security. It has always been filled with wonders and the Master seems to introduce him to a new one each time he visits. This time is no exception. 

              The eccentric man folds his arms. “What do you think it is?”

              His voice catches in his mouth. He’s read it over once, twice, but surely, he must be mistaken. “This sounds like a method for taking over someone’s body.”

              “Bingo! You are correct, sir!” the Master praises, waving his hands animatedly. 

              “WHAT?!” In his exclamation, young Luxu throws the paper in the air. 

              His master snatches the fluttering paper. “Don’t lose it! I only have one copy of that!”

              “Okay, one, why don’t you make another copy? And two, why do you know how to possess someone’s body?!”

              “Oh, I don’t know how; this is all just theory. I wrote it this morning.”

              His master never fails to perplex him. “And you think I need it why?”

              “Because you’re only human,” the Master of Masters replies. “That body of yours will become old and decrepit and weaken over time but your job will be far from done. So, you need some way to continue living and persist into the future.”

              The Master may be a strange man, but it’s no secret that he enjoys pulling emotions from his pupils—his favorite being shock. Luxu has made a point to accept his master’s eccentricity and all it entails, having come to see the unpredictability as predictable. It’s been a long time since the Master has been able to truly flabbergast the young man. 

              Luxu’s arms wave in disbelief. “And you think body snatching is the way to do that?!”

              Matching the animated gestures, the Master retorts, “Well do you have any other bright ideas?!”

              Luxu glances away. “Couldn’t you figure out immortality or something else?”

              The Master holds his arms up in an X. “Absolutely not. Immortality is far more complicated and we just don’t have time for that. So, this is your only hope of completing your task.” Again, the paper is pushed into Luxu’s hands. As the student stares at the page, the Master’s tone turns serious. “Remember, while the others have very important roles, everything hinges on the success of yours. If you don’t see this through, the Book of Prophecies won’t be written and things will fall in ruins.” His tone drops even more, almost as if he’s threatening his pupil. “And all those people you care about will die for nothing.” 

              Those words strike the young man. Aced, Ira, Invi, Gula, and Ava—they’re family. Even if they sometimes bicker and disagree, Luxu grew up with them. He already disliked the idea of them fighting, possibly to their destruction, but they’re all fighting for the light’s survival. If he doesn’t do his job, they’ll lose their guidance and their struggles will be meaningless—his family will die in vain. 

              But taking someone else’s body and losing his own: it’s unthinkably horrifying. He’d never considered that his body could be disposable; that something so undeniably “Luxu” could just be swapped out as easily as his coat. These thoughts become too much to deal with in this moment, so he decides not to. Still, he can’t simply throw away a key aspect of his master’s orders, so the paper is carefully folded and tucked into his jacket to address later. 

              “Thank you for your guidance, Master,” Luxu murmurs. 

              Back to his light-hearted self, the Master of Masters slings an arm around Luxu’s shoulders. “That’s more like it. Now, let me show you why you’re going to need that paper.”

~~~~~

              Spasms wrack every gasp he takes. They come not from his chase of the now-unconscious man at his feet, but from the seriousness of what he must do next. 

              Staring down at his very first victim, he feels a heavy guilt in his chest. Based on what’s written, he can only assume the original heart will be ejected and either become a Heartless or ascend to Kingdom Hearts. This man had no say in the matter; he was hunted down like a dog and endured only terror and pain in his final moments. He’s still young and could’ve had a full life ahead of him filled with happiness and adventure. He had potential but Luxu deemed him a lamb for slaughter. 

              Luxu shakes his head; he can’t have these sorts of distractions dragging him down. 

              The old parchment slips from his pocket, a perfect cross forever creased into its aged surface. Instructions written in black still read perfectly clear despite time’s efforts. He’s read and reread the page thousands of times, each time going through the shock of what exactly is being asked of him: ice shoots through his veins while his skin scorches, a suffocating grasp squeezes at his throat, and a violent churn nearly upheaves his stomach. The possibility of failure reels in his mind, threatening to evolve into a full-blown panic attack. He spent his whole life as himself—as Luxu—but now, for the sake of light itself, he must discard that. Just thinking about looking in a mirror and not recognizing the face looking back reminds him of his nightmares. Supposedly, his heart will retain his memories, but he still worries over exactly how much of himself he’ll get to keep; after all, sacrifices for such sins must be made. 

              The tremors in his chest have spread, shaking the page in his gasp. A deep breath does nothing to soothe his fears but allows him to regain focus. He reminds himself that this is for the existence of everything—for the people he loves. It doesn’t matter if he’s scared, it doesn’t matter if he loses himself, it doesn’t matter if the people who matter don’t recognize him, he has no choice.  

              Sighing, he lets the paper float to the ground, letting his eyes linger on the victim at his feet. He can’t let himself dwell on anything lest his mind trail back to his fear. He gets started.

              Clearing his head, he rests both hands against his chest. The suggested mental imagery serves him well while his heart begins to compress. He remembers the most important parts of himself—the things about himself he values—and imagines placing them in a box. His personality, skills, and knowledge are added inside. Memories follow suit; all the good, the bad, and the in-between are stowed away as important, for they have shaped the person he’s become. The young man takes great care in packing all of himself away. 

              As these things fade from his conscious mind—all bound to his heart for transfer—the darkness stalking at the edges of his mind begins encroaching on his thoughts like wolves prepared to devour him. Luxu’s natural instincts react in fear, causing the man to tremble and his physical heart to pound in his ears. Just like the darkness, a chill creeps along his quaking limbs, his control over them waning. With every bit of himself that he stows away for his next life, the little rationality that must stay behind cowers in terror. He would simply do away with all his senses, but he knows that some of his consciousness must stay to facilitate the move. He must suffer this fear and lose part of his mind to succeed. 

              The body to be left behind is nearly shut down. His throat closes, no longer able to draw air into his spasming lungs. He has no idea if he’s doing anything right or if he’s even ready, but the innate fear of death has him in a panic. He has to go now. 

              Eyes snap open, nothing but bright light consuming his vision. This is it; this is where he discards everything he is. This is the point of no return. With the dread as potent as ever, his consciousness fades as he sends the light on its way. 

              Instantly, Luxu becomes aware of the intense, stinging pain. Every nerve is like a needle, searing at his heart. He would absolutely be screaming if he could but, as it currently stands, he has no access to any vocal cords, let alone a mouth. 

              A firm pressure resists his heart, struggling against him. The way it reverberates is reminiscent of his own screams. This is his victim, desperately fighting to keep control. Their panic gives them strength, allowing them to push against Luxu to the point he feels his grip slipping. A desperate alarm shoots through him, fueling his struggle.

              As it turns out, Luxu’s fear is stronger than that of the man he’s possessing. 

              Resistance suddenly stops. Slowly, the presence of the other heart begins to fade, allowing Luxu’s heart to fill the hole left behind. The pain begins to ebb at an unbearably slow rate, but there is solace in the fact that it is fading. 

              His consciousness begins unfurling within his brain as he lies on the ground gasping. Comprehension begins weaving through the unpacking, bringing attention to what exactly just happened. He hadn’t been prepared for resistance; he didn’t know he could still lose after disarming his target. There was no warning for that. If Luxu’s heart had lost the struggle, he would’ve been expunged, become a heartless, and failed his task; he would have failed his loved ones. And this is only his first time. 

              It takes an eternity for the agony to fade enough and allow him to assess the body. It’s all still sensitive, like a limb falling asleep and waking back up, only far more intense. Nevertheless, he manages to open his eyes. Even they feel the stinging, giving him blurry vision. Nerves feel like fire as he struggles to raise a hand. The trembling extremities are different: the skin tone is a shade off, fingers are slightly longer, and there’s no sign of a mole he used to have on his wrist. It’s strange to feel and control the hand of a stranger. 

              It takes some time for all the nerves to properly connect. Small repetitions get the muscles moving as they should, and after a few hours, he is able to stand. Weak legs hold him up while he tries to regain his bearings. Palms press against his eyes, struggling to get rid of that remnant sting. 

              When his hands drop, he finds nothing. The expelled heart is gone and so is the body he left behind. There is no going back. 

              The old paper flutters, threatening to fly away. However, this is only the first of many stolen bodies and he will need those instructions to repeat the move in the future.

              Reaching down, he scoops up the paper. The action nearly topples him. Despite his careful decision for this particular individual, he couldn’t find someone exactly like himself. There are still differences that will take some getting used to, driving home one very important, horrendous fact. 

              He is no longer Luxu.

                             He is no longer Luxu.

                                            He is no longer himself. 

              The reality finally kicks him in the gut, bringing him back to the ground where a foreign scream tears from his mouth. 

~~~~~

              “You’re crazy! Stay away from me!”

              The cry drags the man back from age-old memories. Braig is the latest of his numerous casualties. 

              Luxu could’ve stopped long ago, given up his master’s orders and spared so many ignorant hearts—innocent people didn’t have to die for this. However, sacrifices must be made for sins, and Luxu’s been paying his due. With every bit of himself left behind, the rest naturally tries to fill in that hole, but it’s not the same. The new pieces become influenced by the suffering and bitterness Luxu endures with each move, filling him with more and more darkness. That’s not to say darkness is a bad thing, but it fuels the apathy born from repeated trauma.

              Luxu’s views on humanity have deteriorated; each passerby could die at his feet and he would simply step over them. Those chosen as new vessels hold some interest, but he no longer has any qualms putting them down. Only the people he started this journey for mean anything to him now; they are the only light left in his unrecognizable life. They would likely look down on him with disappointment, scold and abhor him, but he would burn every world in existence for their fates. But the end is near. The scapegoat has finally shown himself and soon Luxu will be free of this burden—his family will return to him. No matter what wrath he may incur from them, the relief of the end is just too tempting to spare this last victim.

              Luxu shrugs. “You might be right about that; repeatedly losing part of your mind does that to a guy. Unfortunately for you, there’s nothing more dangerous than an insane person with a goal. You were simply the poor soul that caught my eye this time.”

              “N-No! Please!”

              Having done this so many times, Luxu doesn’t even need the instructions, so he burnt them long ago. His mind already begins to pack away the things he wishes to carry forward and the chill starts in his fingers. 

              “Sorry, but everything I’ve dedicated my life to hangs in the balance. Neither of us have a choice here. But don’t worry—this isn’t my first time and I’ll ensure it’s as painless as possible.”

              As he strides closer, the man scrambles closer to the wall. Fear shines brightly in his eyes, but it doesn’t faze a man who’s seen it so many times before—who’s endured it so many times before.  

              “Take a deep breath, Braig. It’ll all be over soon.”

~~~~~

Nova’s Kingdom Hearts Masterlist

[themonstermag]

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[lynbeck]

*Joins a bunch of different social circles after years of spending all my free time alone* why am i so overwhelmed lately??? 🤔🤔🤔

It's a lot and I'm working on kicking out the awful paranoia that comes with all of this, but as overwhelming as it is, I'm also just. Really happy to have gotten this far. Like, last year around this time I joined someone's ygo server and then left 30 seconds later bc I was petrified of interacting any further. Now I'm joining zines, making friends, talking to old friends, joining servers that aren't even abt the zines-- and for the most part, I can actually hold conversations now!! Can't even say how many friends I've lost just because I couldn’t do that. Maybe in another year no one will be able to tell I had to put so much effort into this at all.

Still struggling with figuring out how much talking is normal and how much is annoying/excessive, but every step is closer. Forcing myself to keep speaking and taking new risks over the last year has been the most miserable fucking ordeal, but it's been worth it if it means I can be friends with people again. Just gotta keep reminding myself that being annoying isn't game over. All this overwhelming anxiety now will have its place later