#so it’s a little strange that it’s rarely seen in media

[egrets-not-regrets]

Blue Planet

Korio the Space Shark Astartes, watches the The Blue Planet documentary with his bonded human, Runa.

Author’s Notes:

Dialogue in High Gothic are bolded and italicized.

This is partly based on this post about what kind of present day media survives in 40k. Do not talk trash about Imperial Saint Sir Davyyd At’unnbrugh unless you want to die by Tyberos! This is my new Space Shark boy for #Space Marine Husbandry Sentience.

whai (stingray - Maori Dictionary)

Also, spoilers? for what's in The Blue Planet documentary series?

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog , @bispecsual , @c-u-c-koo-4-40k , @ms--lobotomy , @whorety-k

@gra93fruit-blog , @i-am-a-dragon34 , @felinisnoctis, @thevoidscreams

It’s their weekly movie night. His little whai enthusiastically pulled out a set of DVDs. The cover of the set of discs looked oddly familiar. He remembered having seen something similar in passing on a bookshelf in the Red Wake’s office among his personal collection of archeotech. Korio had asked about what it was, and the Red Wake replied that it was some ancient relic of Davyyd At’unnbrugh, an Oothecan Imperial Saint of great importance. He held the saint in high regard, to the point of killing an ignorant idiot who decided to insult the saint. Korio wouldn’t deny that he was interested in what these discs contain since Tyberos had never let anyone watch the contents in those discs to his knowledge. He wondered if the Oothecan Imperial Saint may have been a descendent of David Attenborough of Ancient Terra.

Runa put down the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table then opened the DVD case. Apparently, Korio heard of someone who had a very similar sounding name as David Attenborough in his time, that also made something similar, so he was very interested in watching this documentary series. If he enjoyed it, Runa considered borrowing other Attenborough documentary sets for future movie nights. 

Korio settled onto the couch, watching Runa insert the first disc into the DVD player. She returned to his side and pressed play on the remote control. Dramatic music started playing as David Attenborough started narrating about the power of the oceans and the lives of the creatures that reside in them. What a variety of strange alien creatures... all within and around the oceans of Ancient Terra. He never expected that Terra once had been such a lush place that teemed with life. 

He felt a round bowl placed in his lap, the strong smell of buttered popcorn wafting into his nose. 

Runa tapped his hand and said, “Have them. There enough for us.” her grammar in High Gothic still stumbling. Not for the lack of trying. High Gothic was rather difficult to learn. 

The Carcharadon turned on the translator egg and corrected her, “Have some. There is enough for both of us.” saying what she was trying to convey, letting the device repeat the phrase so she could understand. 

Runa listened carefully, then repeated what he said, understanding the words that were left out. Her bonded astartes nodded his approval. 

Korio rarely spoke the local baseline language, preferring to speak High Gothic. They had been getting by using the translator egg and basic sign language. However, Runa started to learn High Gothic, wanting to better communicate with her bonded Astartes. 

To Korio’s surprise, it was Runa who asked him to help her to practise speaking in High Gothic, let alone taking the initiative to learn the language. Using the translator device, she expressed that it was getting frustrating using the translator all the time in order to talk to him directly, since he rarely spoke in her native language. At that, the Carcharadon felt a tinge of guilt for not learning more of her language. Perhaps their bonding wouldn’t have been fraught with so many difficulties had he learned and spoke the local language earlier. That was not a mistake he was going to make twice. He agreed and bit by bit, they learned to communicate in each other’s languages, slowly relying on the translator device less and less. 

These small practice sessions had the added bonus of doubling as bonding sessions as well; allowing Runa to slowly lose her fear towards her bonded Astartes, and allowing Korio to establish a closer relationship with his bonded human. It was pleasing to see Runa relax more in his presence and even catch a few laughs on occasion. Those were rare and Korio kept the memory of her laughter close to his hearts. 

That eventually led to their almost weekly movie/documentary nights like the one tonight. Sometimes they watched shows in High Gothic with subtitles in english, other times they watched the opposite. Any shows relating to sharks usually drew his interest, but while some were interesting, others with their poor animation and nonsensical plot quickly got rejected. However, he found historical movies and documentaries depicting Ancient Terran historical technology and natural history the most fascinating. 

For this particular documentary, it was in english with High Gothic subtitles, which was probably for the best since it allowed the Carcharadon to listen to David Attenborough’s actual voice. Korio watched with interest, wishing that he had asked the Red Wake’s permission to view the contents of that relic so he could have a comparison. The blue whale was introduced first, the largest animal on Terra, even bigger than the carcharodon that was kept on the bridge of Nicor. Korio inwardly scoffed, he has killed Tyranids larger just as big and ten times as deadly. The blue whale would be a walk in the park, but he couldn’t deny the curiosity to see that large creature in person one day. 

Runa looked up at him and noticed his focused interest. She said, “There are tours to go see whales. I will take you some day.”

“Tours. Tours.” Korio corrected her, then asked, “Blue whales?”

She smiled, “Yes, tours for blue whales and others.”

There was a softened look in his normally stoic expression, “Some day.” he quietly replied as his grey hand tenderly caressed her cheek. Runa blushed, still getting used to Korio’s random affectionate gestures.

The documentary continued, introducing other sea creatures from other parts of Ancient Terra, showing bait balls of small fish, followed by their aerial and underwater predators. As he watched the different species of sharks grouped up into giant shoals to follow the massive biomass of small prey fish; Korio was reminded of how the multiple battle companies came together to rejoin the chapter’s main fleet in preparation for the next large battle. 

Korio and Runa started on the popcorn while watching the pack of orca attacking the mother-calf pair of grey whales. Despite her larger size, the mother grey whale was unable to save her calf. He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed by the prey or disappointed by predators since the whole ordeal lasted six hours as Attenborough mentioned. 

Runa suddenly took the translator egg, commenting, “Different groups of orcas around the world, can develop hunting techniques to specialize hunting certain prey.” 

Korio listened to the translation and hummed in acknowledgement. That was similar to the different fighting styles from the different legions and chapters of Astartes. 

The scene switched to a whalefall being consumed by the scavengers of the deep. The Carcharodon recognized the hagfish as he had seen them in the research laboratory at the aquarium. Glancing down, he saw Runa reaching into the bowl and taking another handful of popcorn. Impulsively, he bent down and sneaked a mouthful of popcorn from her hand. His bonded froze and looked at him with a strange expression. He sat back up and looked back at her, a glint of sly humor in his dark eyes. Runa’s expression twisted into something between consternation and amusement, before bursting out in giggles. Korio felt pretty proud at that moment. 

Runa caught her breath, “You sneak! If you wanted to be fed, you could have just said so. No need to be like that sneaky leopard shark at the aquarium!”

“Here. Sneaky shark.” She snorted as she held up a few pieces of popcorn at her fingertips to his mouth. 

Korio gently picked the popcorn from her fingers, his sharp teeth barely grazing her skin. He swallowed then replied with a slight grin, “Your sneaky shark. More.”

Runa huffed, “Yes, yes. My sneaky shark.” holding up another few pieces of popcorn for him with a wry smile on her face. Korio felt pleased that Runa responded positively to his impulsive attempt to get her to feed him. Not that he needed to be hand-fed, but at least it confirmed that she was willing to touch him and how much more at ease she was with his presence now. 

He went back to watching the documentary, watching the shoal of squid laying and fertilizing the masses of egg capsules on the seabed, every now and then eating the popcorn that Runa fed him. How alien that they laid eggs in large clusters like that, but in numbers that big, Korio supposed there would be enough young to survive despite predation. To be fair, they were rather delicious, it was a good thing these small squid existed in such large numbers. 

There were only a few pieces of popcorn left. Korio quickly took the handful and placed it in front of his bonded, “Have some, Runa.” he said quietly. 

She looked surprised at first, but then smiled at him and grabbed the popcorn then stuffed them in her mouth. 

“Thank you.” she said. His mouth twitched into a slight smile. 

The first disc came to an end. Runa asked him, “Do you like it? You want more?”

The Carcharodon grinned, looking forward to view the next disc in the series along with his bonded human, “Yes. More.”

[mabelsguidetolife]

need more characters with epilepsy where their disability is not their Only Trait so you’re not just meant to pity them

[arts-and-drafts]

I decided to start compiling speech patterns and such for the Hermits I watch the most, because being a fic writer is hard sometimes 😭 then I thought “why not share it here?”

so here’s my very rough analysis of my most viewed Hermits, this is just what I’ve managed to gather so please don’t call me out for what I’m missing

-

Scar

Rarely stutters in normal speech. Maybe pauses if he’s started a sentence and doesn’t know where it’s going, but he doesn’t tend to trail off unless something interrupts his train of thought

Stutters a LOT when he’s startled. Also makes ‘hoo!’ noises repeatedly before he finds his words

Lays on the charm THICK when he’s trying to convince someone over literally anything; compliments their looks, their handiwork, and then pitches his proposition in smooth segue. Not one to entertain haggling though (however he DOES do a ‘look if you’ll pay full price I’ll throw in xyz’ thing). King of upselling even the most mundane things.

His tone is cheerful most of the time, no matter what he’s saying. He’ll actually often say very disturbing things with a light voice (ex. when discussing how to retaliate ie “what should we do about him?” “we could kill him! :)”)

Builds and locations somehow are always capitalized in his voice?? Like he says them differently. I can’t really explain it (when he talks about Aqua Town or Scarland or The Big Dig)

Literally has an evil laugh when he thinks of a way to prank someone or mess with people

Hums in thought quite often, and uses “huh!” quite often when confused or finding out something new (Mostly with redstone)

His farewell is almost always “Byeeee, have a great time!” even if the conversation he left was not a pleasant one. I’m almost certain he does this in tense situations just to get under other people’s skin and really push how unbothered he is

Doesn’t tend to insult people, the farthest he’ll take it is backhanded compliments

That said he is not afraid to outright threaten (“I will murder them.”)

References media a lot, both for concepts for builds and in speech (ie his greeting “Well hello there!” is from Star Wars)

Number one exclamation is “Sweet Baby Jellie!”

(More under the cut!)

Grian

Cold opens, both in videos and conversations (rarely says “hello, how are you, etc” when encountering someone, but he does say farewells/‘thank you’s)

Likes to sneak up on people and scare them if he realizes they haven’t noticed him yet, usually does so by getting real close and then yelling (“HEY!”/“HI!”/“WHAT’S THAT?”)

Uses the name of whoever he’s talking to pretty often while speaking to them (“Well, Mumbo, you never know”/“So, Scar, as you can see here-“), same goes for often addressing his audience (“you all”/“you lot”/“you guys”)

Usually pretty focused (when he wants to be) but oftentimes takes a minute to laugh at things he notices in the natural environment (An accidental face in a build, a mob in a strange place, etc)

Takes the lead in a conversation if nobody is the clear leader, but generally only speaks when spoken to if someone else has risen to that spot

Clarifies instructions after something is explained, both to his viewers and to anyone he’s grouped up with (most often seen in the Life Series)

Uses “Pardon?!”/“Beg your pardon?!” most often when surprised or startled (he’s very British), also sometimes uses “Sorry??”

Things are way more funny to him when he’s tired

Deadpans a lot in conversation ie “why not do xyz?” “Well because we’ll horrifically die 😑“

This man is allergic to committing to the bit unless he’s the one that initiated it

Not one to sugarcoat (“how is it?” “well to be honest it’s miserable”)

Number one exclamation is “WHAT?!” (though he often uses “oh my GOODNESS” quite a bit)

Mumbo

The start of nearly every episode is almost a pitch, does the same when bringing up an idea to others (“I have this idea”/“I was thinking”/“I noticed” etc)

Often laughs a little at himself when he speaks

Also often brings up how inexperienced/unqualified he thinks he is with literally any task he’s doing

Gets very distracted with the smallest things

Uses similes a lot when trying to describe a concept (“I’m thinking a this-type thing”/“Something like a [xyz]”/“Imagine like a [thing]”)

His voice gets higher when he’s startled or panicking

A very vocal thinker, which makes sense because he’s a MC Youtuber, but he also just. Seems to think out loud regardless

Comments a lot on the feel of things (“Oh this feels menacing”/“This looks like it’d mess you up”/“This makes it feel very intimidating”), often with building

Extremely modest. However will celebrate when he does something right in redstone/building (“YES! Oh my days, that took forever”)

Once and a while will have a rare banter moment with people he’s comfortable with (ie teasing and making fun)

Related to above, he gets very giggly when he’s hanging out with people he’s familiar with (Grian and Scar most often, but also Iskall)

Number one exclamation is “What on earth?!”

Joel

Greets people most often with “How you doing [name]?”/“How are ya [name]?”

He’s very northern. He often leaves out words in his sentences bc that’s just the way his dialect is (“What you doin’?” vs “What are you doing?”)

Says his th’s like f’s (“somefing”/“nofing”/“finking”) ((Stress also does this))

His jokes/teasing are very deadpan (“I made you this extra thing, because you’re trash at this”)

Actually gives gifts of resources very often, and always leaves it with a little note and signs his name

His voice gets higher pitched when he’s defensive/being extremely cheeky but other than that his tone rarely changes

This man. Flirts so much. If any other person initiates even the slightest of flirty banter he takes that and dials it to eleven I cannot believe this is a straight married man sometimes

Joel commits to the bit 100% of the time (slightly related to above), unless of course it’s jokes about his height

Makes a point to compliment himself if he gets the chance (words most often used are “handsome” “strong” and “humble”, as well as comments about his muscles and physique)

Insults his enemies diminutively (“look at you down there, tiny idiot”/“You’re wrong and also weak”) ((seen most often in Empires SMP)

His most often used insult is “idiot”

When he’s flustered/frustrated he uses “bloody” a lot (ie “bloody heck” or “this bloody thing” (loves to toe the PG line), also uses “blooming” (“bloomin’ heck”)

Most often used exclamation is also “WHAT?!”

Bdubs

Opens videos very jovially, talks almost like a radio host

Breaks down his builds down to the block, spends a lot of time discussing his block pallet choices and giving tips while he builds

Uses the affirmation “sure enough” a lot, and often addresses himself as “Ol’ Bdubs”

Talks affectionately about other hermits often (“[name], the absolute sweetheart, left me some materials”, “[name], you angel!”)

Adding to above, “angel” or “sweet angel” seems to be his most often used affectionate terms

Switches on a dime, though, if he gets offended (which of course causes others to poke fun at him even more)

Calls mobs “stupid” a lot when they don’t do what he wants (but takes it back if he says it to one of his horses ex. “Come here, stupid—wonderful, I mean, beautiful”)

THIS MAN IS THE #1 HORSE ENJOYER. He gets a horse first thing every season and rides it everywhere, and they’re always a focal point of his theme or builds in some regard

Pauses whatever he’s doing to sleep as soon as it’s possible, and gets very antsy if he can’t do it for some reason (“One moment, time to shreep!”)

Related to above, EVERYONE messes with him if he’s trying to sleep in their presence ie breaking his bed over and over, and he gets increasingly more frustrated when it happens

Rarely is soft spoken or quiet, he projects his voice and uses a lot of emphasis in his tone

Either straight up screams (and peaks the mic 😭) if he’s startled or scared, or yells “oh my GOODNESS!!”

Number one exclamation is “HEY!”

[evermoreal]

some stalker!ghost thoughts ౨ৎ ࿐

cw. 18+ mdni, fem reader, stalking, murder (nothing detailed & the reader doesn’t know), breaking & entering, voyeurism, masturbation. lmk if i missed anything ! <3

∘♡༉∘ he meets you while on leave. it’s not often he’s off-base, and when he is, he rarely leaves the dingy little apartment he rents.

∘♡༉∘ despite the rumours, ghost is human. a human with a terrible sweet tooth, actually. after spending too long staring at his empty pantry, willing something to appear, he decides to check out the little bakery he’d spotted on an early-morning run a few days ago.

∘♡༉∘ it was quiet inside — so quiet he had to double check that the ‘open’ sign was actually lit up. it was, and there was a faint, bubble-gum pop song playing from somewhere behind the ‘employees only’ door. after a moment of deliberation, he dings the little bell atop the counter.

∘♡༉∘ there’s a short yelp, and that sickly-sweet music is immediately paused. not a moment later, the door is swung open, and the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen is rattling off non-sensical apologies. there’s a bit of flour on your nose, some frosting on your chin.

∘♡༉∘ ghost knows he’s intimidating — enjoys it, even. not once in his life has he felt at all bad about it, not until now. the way you stutter over your words, staring up at him with wide eyes, growing frantic the more he silently stares has him regretting everything.

∘♡༉∘ now, he wishes he’d taken the time to swap out his balaclava for a surgical mask, or at least worn something other than his usual black hoodie and jeans. all he can do is shove his hands in his pockets, and say as softly as he can manage, “‘s okay, sweetheart.”

∘♡༉∘ you visibly relax, at that. shoulders slumping from where they’d begun to climb toward your ears. after that, you’re asking how you can help him, and when he asks for suggestions, you’re full of them. he ends up leaving with a box full of treats he doesn’t need, but he just couldn’t say no to anything you offered.

∘♡༉∘ only two days later and he’s returning. he doesn’t know why, but he can’t get you out of his head.

∘♡༉∘ the sight of your big, toothy smile when he walks in has his heart soaring. you’re immediately asking about the treats, if he enjoyed them or not. of course he did — he couldn’t get through all of them without a sore stomach, but the ones he did eat were the best damn baked goods he’d ever had.

∘♡༉∘ it’s easy enough to find your social media; you’re not great with privacy settings, and he spotted your name on your tag the first day he met you. instagram, snapchat, twitter, spotify, even facebook. your posts are so sweet, he finds himself smiling absentmindedly as he scrolls through them. baked goods, selfies of you and your friends, animals, the moon. he doesn’t know why he’s so satisfied when he concludes you don’t have a partner.

∘♡༉∘ there’s a photo of you at the beach alongside your friends. you’re smiling in it, the way one would for a photo — it’s not genuine, not like how you smile at him. but you look beautiful, so much so that it has something foul twisting in his stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. the photo wasn’t particularly revealing, and you weren’t posed scandalously, but… he grinds his teeth as he goes through the comments. he’s so, so proud when he sees that you haven’t responded to the men, not even deigning to like their comments. heart eyes and shitty compliments — he files away their names, somewhere in the back of his mind. just in case.

∘♡༉∘ it becomes routine to visit you after that. every few days he came in, spending more money than anyone should at a bakery. only once did he make the mistake of coming in on your day off. it only made sense for him to wait for your coworker to use the restroom and sneak back to the break room, snapping a photo of your schedule.

∘♡༉∘ additionally, and even more strangely, he’s glad the bakery has the sweet habit of labeling who made what treats. when you suggest the ones made by your coworkers, he’ll still purchase them, just to see you smile, but they don’t go anywhere near his mouth.

∘♡༉∘ and, hey, it’s not like sticking around until the end of your shift was a terrible idea. he’d sit in his car on the other side of the street, monitoring whoever entered and exited. he just needed to make sure you were safe. a sweet thing like you, the world would chew you up and spit you out so easily — there’s no way he’s gonna let that happen.

∘♡༉∘ it’s rare he deems someone a threat, but when an older man leaves the place with a scowl, he gets a bad feeling. immediately, he’s back inside the bakery, only to find you teary-eyed and sniffly. fury takes hold in an instant, but when you spot him and whimper out his name, he’s unable to leave again, no matter how badly he needs to hunt that man down. you step into his arms and ghost knows that prick will have to wait — right now, he needs to take care of you. wiping your eyes, cooing at you until you calm down enough to explain what happened. he insists you take your break, and when you do, he treats you to the restaurant across the street you’d mentioned you’d liked.

∘♡༉∘ the prick never comes back. you don’t question why, and simon’s glad for that. he doesn’t know how accepting you’d be if ghost told you he was buried a few cities over.

∘♡༉∘ after that, ghost’s instincts kind of go haywire. in his eyes, you’re no longer safe when he’s not around, not even at home. he spends his nights parked a few houses down, watching you through the window you so often forgot to draw the blinds across.

∘♡༉∘ a few weeks later, it was clear you were going through a bad time. although simon was greatly relieved when he found out it was merely a common flu, he was furious you still had to go to work to support yourself. in just a few months, if he kept at it, you might let him support you. for now, though, the best he could manage was slipping through an unlocked window and catching up on the chores you’d fallen behind. doing the dishes, your laundry, taking out your garbage. now, when you returned home, you’d be able to relax, to get better.

∘♡༉∘ additionally, he made mental notes of things that needed fixing. the lightbulb in your upstairs hallway was flickering, there was a leaky tap in the kitchen, and a few of your doors could use new hinges. he’d get to that, too, eventually.

∘♡༉∘ (he prayed you were delirious enough in your sickness to not notice. he was mostly right — through the window, he spotted you staring at the now-clean dishes with a puzzled expression. you brushed it off, and he exhaled in relief, returning to his phone, where he was purchasing a refill of your favourite perfume).

∘♡༉∘ it was hard, though. work often called him away, and he didn’t want any of the neighbours reporting a suspicious black truck parked on the street. after much debate, he purchased some cameras, installing them in a few rooms and along the exterior of your house.

∘♡༉∘ being able to check up on his girl helped him sleep when he was away. he had to pay a few extra dollars for it, but now whenever the motion sensors went off at night, he’d get a notification sent to his phone.

∘♡༉∘ he panics when it goes off one night, a while after he’d watched you fall asleep. it woke him up out of his dead sleep, body attuned to the sound of the notification. he was on base, a ways away from you; he couldn’t unlock his phone fast enough.

∘♡༉∘ however, he merely found you, alone in your room, writhing on your bed. he was confused for a long moment — were you hurt? did he need to call someone to check up on you? however, when he clicked the little ‘unmute’ button, and a low buzzing sound cut through his speakers, he came to the realization with a groan. you were getting off.

∘♡༉∘ he knew he should close the app. he knew this was a new level of invading your privacy. he knew he was disgusting . . . but the blood in his brain had already begun it’s descent to his cock, quick enough to make him light headed and a little stupid.

∘♡༉∘ the walls in the barracks were thin. he made sure to keep the volume low as he listened to your quiet moans and breathy whimpers. pressing his face close to the screen, he watched with wide, dilated eyes, cock twitching in his briefs every time you bucked your hips against the vibrator.

∘♡༉∘ simon didn’t quite know how it happened, but somehow he’d ended up on his tummy, cock fucking into his fist while he imagined it was your pretty little cunt. he finished embarrassingly quick, growling against his pillow, waiting just long enough to hear the sounds of your climax.

∘♡༉∘ the hazy, post-climax period was cut short when he heard your voice, quiet and muffled against your palm. it was breathy with the come-down, but his heart lurched in his chest. he had to rewind the video, holding the speaker up to his ear.

∘♡༉∘ sure enough, you’d uttered his name. simon. you were thinking of him.

∘♡༉∘ despite claiming you long ago, something was cemented in simon’s chest at the sound. he couldn’t wait any longer. the moment he returned, you’d be his. no matter what he had to do.

[doctorcurdlejr]

Niko!! what'd you think of I saw the tv glow. I finally saw it last night and noticed you posting about it so I wanted to know your thoughts :)

Levi!!! I was JUST wondering what you were thinking about the movie after I saw you posting about it as well... we are so media discussion pilled in this way, it's awesome. ANYWAYS I've had so many thoughts since I first saw it and I've been trying to turn them into something coherent for a little bit now.

Ummm okay I have written 1k+ words about this movie, the suburbs, and escapism via teen TV.... clearly I was dying for somebody to ask this I guess so thank you for indulging me <3

First and foremost, I absolutely loved it! I've seen it twice now and the first time I watched it I got to see Jane Schoenbrun talk about the film right after. I already really liked it from that first watch alone. I found it so deeply relatable to my experiences - both in terms of growing up gay and trans, but where I am now in my 20s trying to navigate adulthood. Hearing what Schoenbrun had to say really cemented my feelings and thoughts about the film.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a big influence on the movie (it's why Amber Benson makes a cameo as Johnny Link's mom). Even though I don't have the same emotional link to Buffy since I never watched it, I recognize it as the same type of warmth I experienced growing up with Riverdale. When Owen says he feels like his insides have been scooped out but that he's too afraid to look and have that wrongness everybody knows is there be confirmed, Maddy simply responds "Maybe you're like Isabel. Afraid of what's inside you." Tears forming but not falling, breathing shallowly, I grabbed the paper and pen the theater keeps at the seats for people to order food with and wrote that line down - the slip of paper is still somewhere in my car. Writing it now almost feels lame in its simplicity, but it felt like my insides were being flayed open.

During the director discussion, Schoenbrun talked a little bit about this idea of how truly fucking bizarre it is to grow up in the suburbs. Like, when we think about the pinnacle of normality in American culture, it's the image of middle-class cis-hetero-white suburbia. At the same time, despite this cultural dream of normality, everybody is hyper-aware that the suburbs are one of the least normal things ever. So, the ACTUAL cultural understanding of it is that it's where we go to, like, passively kill ourselves (*George Costanza voice* WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY YOU KNOW!). This idea isn't new, I mean there are so many films and shows about navigating that specific bizarre dissonance from Rebel Without a Cause to Heathers to Twin Peaks. Probably half the pre-teen to teen TV I watched obsessively growing up, stuff like Strange Days at Blake Holsey High, Making Fiends, Truth or Scare, and eventually Riverdale, were never shy about being weird and morbid and saying "yes, the suburbs are exactly as bizarre and lethal in the ways you can already feel in your bones at 13." I Saw the TV Glow does a really good job of keying not only into that mental dissonance but more specifically into how those of us who have felt so intrinsically weird and different and wrong fell back on these shows like they were capable of doing the emotional version of a rescue breath maneuver after being drowned.

In high school, if there were two things about me that any person who even vaguely knew me could list off it was that I watched Riverdale, and I was a lesbian - and I was mocked more for the Riverdale. At that age, I was, without a doubt, the most miserable I have ever felt in my life. I rarely left the house because my family lived in a development that made me want to scratch my skin off when I walked out our front door. Owen didn't leave the house for days, afraid Maddy could somehow force him out. I sobbed constantly and frequently to depressing indie rock on the floor of my closet while hoping my family would just once read the (honest to god) KEEP OUT poster plastered on my door since I didn't have a lock on it. Owen didn't leave his room for days, afraid of what Maddy recognized in him. I didn't go on dates and kept my chest binder shoved to the bottom of my bookbag while wearing dresses that could've come from a how-to-be the perfect 50s housewife manual. Owen didn't leave his bed for days, afraid of Maddy touching his neck and Isabel's dress. I also watched Riverdale with the kind of zeal you see in a Pentecostal who has found God and started speaking in tongues to let you know it. I own a button that says, "Don't Make Me Go Dark Betty On You," I cherish it in a way that is only achieved by knowing exactly how corny and trite it is and then moving straight past that because well actually, and most people wouldn't get this, she's holding back something deeply dark and wild and- and disgusting. something painful yet intrinsically her. but i get it, obviously. or maybe not obviously! hopefully not obviously, but- basically, I'm just saying I get it: the experience of reflection and recognition through the other and all that.

Whatever, the point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?

Clearly, I’ve been enchanted by the film’s narrative and meta-textual language. If you're familiar with it, you can see how Schoenbrun built this movie like a long-form dream episode of a canceled teen show filmed in Vancouver. Lynchian? Yeah, sure. Riverdalesque? THIS we cannot possibly deny. Schoenbrun said they included Amber Benson as an act of healing the inner rage experienced at Tara’s death in Buffy. This is a Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa ending Riverdale with a bisexual polycule after his gay Archie play got ceased-and-desisted type move. There’s probably more I could say about the soundtrack and the visuals, but I’ve hit over 1k words on this, so I’ll leave it at I enjoyed this movie a lot. :)

Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in!

[caw4brandon]

The Power of Stop-Motion

Media in today's standard is quick and easy. Rarely is a show more than 2 hours long or 13-epiodes per-season. With that, animated movies are a lot slower than the typical films.

There is a discussion on if animation is suitable for film purposes and while it is often shunned by the Golden Globes or the Oscars or other awards. The very few outliers can prove these awards and the world very wrong.

But that is not what we will be talking about today. Because while animation is popular, there is a dark horse among its sphere. One with a rich history and strong filmography that should be shared. Let's talk about;

- Have I possibly gone daffy? -

Stop-motion is a film making style that compiles multiple still images of an object being physically manipulated in small movements into one whole scene.

Majority of Stop-motion films and videos use [Clay Animation] or [Paper Animation] with several more varieties of new innovations emerging under the umbrella of stop-motion. The most popular of them in the modern era towards kids is [Lego animation] which is the manipulation of Lego models in motion.

The earliest trace of Stop-motion in films is the 1898 short [The Humpty Dumpty Circus] by Albert E. Smith and James Stuart Blackton which is said to be a lost media. To compensate, please watch [A Tribute to Stop Motion]

In its early concept, Stop-motion was used as a method to create impossible things or do practical effects under budget constrains. Such as the iconic King Kong scene at the Empire State building. Since then, Stop-motion has evolved into a full production industry. From Indies; [Righteous Robot] to Juggernauts; [Laika Studios]

- Shimmer a Little at The Edges -

Unconventional media such as stop-motion is often not a style suited for every story. Its a rather expensive type of media that requires worthy innovations top break the niche barrier. Just looking at Laika Studios alone, we see that they've develop a lot of interesting ways to improve visual effects while staying to their stop-motion roots.

One perfect example is seen in < Kubo and the Two Strings > where the animators need to create water in a still image world that feels natural. [A Perfect Storm] one other part of the stop-motion puzzle is the iron-willed discipline it to conceptualize, animate and edit a production that can take about 3 to 5 years to complete. More so of a time frame than a normal film.

This difficult curve lead to budgeted methods such as using models that already exist to tell new stories. Such as; Legos or with crude multi-jointed figures of existing characters. [MOONSHINE]

While I may say its crude, the low budget production is the selling point. Assisted with sound bites taken from gaming sessions or from shows featuring a lot of inside jokes and memes. Also, its hilarious to see a Teletubby turned into a Eldritch monster.

These attempts to make stop-motion productions accessible has captured the attention of other like-minded channels to collaborate and elevate one another. [ERB: Harry Potter vs Luke Skywalker]

- For Better Tomorrows -

With all that is said, what is the power of stop-motion? As a media that is tediously overlapping across processes. What are the better tomorrows for our inanimate subjects?

I like to think, that as filmmaking grows. Stop-motion will continue to remain as a sacred tug against live action films and traditional animation. It can be used to tell complicated stories with concepts that may look strange if its adapted in a live action.

As I have mentioned in [The Beautiful World of Hilda] animation's greatest strength is simplification. Stop-motion takes the opposite side of that philosophy.

Its a higher level of world building of the materials with willingness to accept mistakes and ruggedness that gives them that little flavor of life. As an actual touchable thing, the various cartoonish styles can take on a whole new dimension to heighten the style and give it that detail that is less polished.

Stop-motion shows that filmmaking magic can still exist despite already knowing the tricks. Its a media where every frame shown has a significant purpose that invokes a specific flow. That's the power of stop-motion.

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

Attempting To Analyze Luka And Till To Try And Figure Out How Round Seven Will Go

LUKA:

From what we've seen of him, while he knows how to manipulate people's emotions, doesn't quite know how to understand them and process them. We see this as far back from when he was a kid, when he and Hyuna's brother would get into fights, and he would use his frailty as an excuse to go running to Hyuna for her to defend him; it's an excuse to get her attention, to get her to side with him against her brother. This probably made him feel good, like she placed him above her brother, even if it was momentarily.

However, this strategy came crashing down when he went too far, when he killed her brother. Perhaps this was an accident, just him being too frustrated that day, him going to far, and he didn't realize it till too late. Even so, it was fine, he just needed to present himself as the victim to Hyuna like he usually did. What he didn't anticipate, was Hyuna's complete horror and rejection of him.

Now, we don't know when exactly Hyuna ran away and went rouge, but it couldn't have been right away; also, if we're going on what we saw that one time with Hyuna still having cuffs when she was an adult, then it wouldn't be till many years later. The aliens wouldn't have put Hyuna in a different group or anything; even if she did somehow try and plead a case that she was worried for her safety or something, they'd take one look at little prized Luka and be like 'nah he's harmless; that stunt with your brother was in self defense', basically not caring at all about Hyun Woo dying at all; he wasn't as profitable as Luka. It helps that Luka is so sickly; it helps with him getting out of any actual punishment on the rare occasion he slips up. And so, in the aftermath, Hyuna and Luka still had to interact with each other everyday for the remainder of their training in childhood.

Now, to backtrack, for Luka's backstory, this is more speculation than anything. But from what I can tell, he's always had a camera in his face, some sort of eyes on him looking for media entertainment. Even before he's been properly trained, we saw that small scene of him as a child with a bunch of aliens crowding him, eyes on him, and him just looking so tired from it. I'm assuming that he was either breed and born for being a singer, or he was clocked at a very early age. Either way, he started getting media attention from before he was even put into training with others. It's in this, that Luka formed his understanding of interactions; it's performative, doing whatever the aliens want out of him for their entertainment, he learns that he needs to do certain things in order to get a positive reaction out of the aliens. It's what he needs to do to survive, all he's been trained to do really. From this all he knows about socializing is how to get an emotional response out of someone, a completely hollowed understanding of how emotions work.

And then he was put into training with other humans, which is likely the first time he's actually put with other humans. He's ostracized; he's seen as sort of 'other', since he's leagues ahead of the other humans who've barely started properly learning and he's been trained for this since forever. Also, the other humans likely have been around other humans before, meanwhile we have Luka over here who as none of the common social ques that humans have. Basically; he's never been treated like an equal before, he only knows the dehumanization dynamic from aliens, who just want him to perform. But with his group, their not asking him to perform, so he essentially ignores them, thinking that's all an interaction is. That's when Hyuna comes in; she feels like the sort of person to see how Luka is put on the outside of the group for being strange, and doggedly tries to become friends with him, despite his initial disinterest. It's through this, that Luka forms an obsession with Hyuna, his first friend, the first living being that doesn't demand anything from him. He can relax around her, do weird shit like chew on his sleeve if he feels like it and she doesn't mind, doesn't have to mask a response. He actually has positive feelings himself when he's around Hyuna, something he's not really used to. But despite this, Luka still has a dysfunctional idea of how emotions are, and really likes Hyuna, so he wants to get a positive out of her, so he still tries to do things he knows will get that out of her, like that thing with her brother.

Now, back to Hyuna now being horrified of Luka, he really doesn't know what to do with this. He tries to fix it, do every trick he knows to get a positive response from her, try to get her forgiveness, but nothing was working, and he doesn't understand why, and he's getting increasingly and dangerously frustrated. Luka is not use to getting a negative response, and I think it's through this that he really learns what that's like. So, I think to ward off his frustration, he tests getting negative responses from his fellow humans, particularly his opponents. It's through this, that he finds out how useful that can be, a more secure way to survive. As the years go by, Luka gets all the better at manipulating others emotions, and it's through this that he understands why Hyuna still won't forgive him, despite his understanding of these emotions being very clinical. Because of this, he knows how to try and better manipulate Hyuna into forgiving him, so much so that it actually starts messing with Hyuna's head. She emotionally begins to be swayed into forgiving him, but rationally she doesn't want to, and it gives her a whole complex of what she knows what she wants to feel versus what Luka is manipulating her to feel. But she ends up running away from the aliens before Luka could completely manipulate her.

When she runs away, Luka falls into a spiraling depression. The one person he's ever loved is gone, the one person who made him feel anything. From this, he dives into his work, trying to glean any sort of joy from manipulating negative responses from his competitor's to make them mess up, turning it into a sort of game at this point. It becomes his only defense against the constant eyes on him from the aliens, the constant and disgustingly dehumanizing attention that has choked him ever since he could remember. Luka folds further and further into himself, burying whatever sliver of humanity he felt with Hyuna. However, he follows very closely the revolution movement that's happening, knowing for a fact Hyuna would join (or start?) the group. The aliens likely have covered up this revolution, especially from the humans so they won't get any ideas, but with Luka being Luka, he likely has the influence to get some insider information whenever he can, causally eavesdropping on important alien figures talking about it while he sings for them. Whatever the case, no matter how much time has passed, Hyuna haunts him just as much as he haunts Hyuna. And even after all this time, he still doesn't hold the proper remorse of murdering her brother or trying to manipulate her into forgiving him, just regretting the results.

TILL:

From what I can try to glean from Till's past, it's littered in violence from the aliens. I can see there being a sort of cycle with Till; he does something that his alien owners lightly punish him for, which puts him on the defense and gets violent, which in turn makes the alien's get violent and try to restrain, which makes Till get even more violent, and so on. The aliens viewed him as sort of this feral dog, completely untrainable, moving him from home to home, shelter to shelter. They try all their methods they have to make him 'submit', but each and every time he simply refuses.

I sort of have this theory that Till didn't start out as someone with an owner, or someone who was even regulated by an alien in a adoption facility or something; he used to live on the streets, completely unmanaged, which is very rare for humans. Maybe he even had other stray humans he hung around, or maybe he managed on his own. Either way, eventually he gets captured by the aliens, and maybe his fellow stray humans get captured and broken down or killed in this. The aliens try to integrate Till into their human pet system, but he's just not having it. He wasn't trained by aliens since birth to act a certain way, which would explain his intense resistance towards them. He sees the situation for what it is, how humans being put in such a degrading and dehumanizing dynamic is wrong, and it makes him angry to be expected to put up with it. It makes him especially angry that his fellow humans expect him to go along with this dehumanization, just to keep the waters calm. Because even the humans that have sort of realized that this is wrong, were still trained under this system, and has just accepted that they need to live with it, and Till won't. They all act like he's crazy, aliens and humans alike, but Till refuses to give in.

Whatever the case, Till proves to show constant resilience, something that probably was having him set up to be on track for being 'put down', having no worth as a 'pet'. Till knew this, but it just made him push even harder, fight back harder. We see in a few flashes of Till be experimented on with syringes; possibly in an effort to make him calmer. This was probably something that happened before and after he became a singer. Even then, physically and biologically abused, he refuses to go along with this system, to try and hold on to any sense of autonomy he has even as they try to restrain and degrade it. And all this fighting does take a toll on Till; we see it in the heavy bags under his eyes, but even so, he keeps going. You know, unironically, I think Till is the embodiment of the term "the indomitable human spirit"; he just absolutely refuses to be cowed for the sake of an easier survival.

I think what kept him from being 'put down' was when it was discovered he had a talent for singing. I don't know how this was discovered; maybe Till was just bored and entertaining himself with singing or strumming a guitar, or maybe they had him tested for a talent before the decided to kill him just in case he had any sort of monetary worth. Once they figured out he had a talent, he was shipped off to be the Anact Garden's problem.

Now, Till, at his core, is an extremely protective person; it's actually kind of insane. Once he decides something is 'his', he tightly holds onto and protects it with everything he has. We see this time and time again; deciding to be the sole protector of the flowers and encouraging them to grow, literally beating someone up if they stepped on them. Following Mizi around just in case she would need help, and one day she did, and she didn't hesitate to run into that cave and fight off whatever monster she had stumbled upon, literally just some child squaring up against some mutated beast (or possibly striking a deal with it? we didn't see the whole thing. either way whatever he did must have been a huge deal because it literally changed Ivan's life). He doesn't even care if Mizi loves Sua and that she'll never love him; he just wants her to be safe and happy. And in defending Ivan as well, cause he was a weird kid, and I know Till would go from snarling at Ivan to snarling at another kid who's making fun of Ivan. And that's why he fights so hard for his own rights and autonomy as well, because he's protective of his own sense of self, refusing to let go of it. His protective instincts are his main motivation for basically all of his actions, all of his supposed feral behavior.

It's probably this that trait that drew Ivan to Till in the first place; his and Till's first interaction was Till beating him up over some flowers. It kind of looked like Ivan felt alive for possibly the first time in his life during that fight. I bet afterwards, if Ivan were to question Till on it, Till wouldn't even understand the point of the question; like of course he would defend the flowers till his last dying breath? Duh? Don't be a dick? Ivan probably followed Till around all the time, but I imagine the reason Till didn't form as close a connection to Ivan was because Till sees Ivan as just another source of violence in his life he needs to fight against. It's why he probably developed such a crush on Mizi; Till is drawn to kindness more than anything, to softness. It's why he forms a connection to the flowers, to Mizi. He can't see the kindness in Ivan, not till it's too late.

It's probably those protective instincts that made him turn back when Ivan was trying to get him to run away; of course he wanted to run away. But then he thought of Mizi, left unprotected. And then he considered Ivan, who upon running away, would also be left unprotected out in the world. His need to protect was being torn at, and in the end, he chose Mizi, leaving Ivan to fend for himself. What he didn't expect, was to see that Ivan came back too. That's when Till truly stopped seeing Ivan; his guilt didn't allow him to. He feels like he abandoned him, thrown him aside what he feels he needs to protect, forced him to come back to the facility, and now Till can't look him in the eye.

Honestly, I think it's these protective instincts that serve in his break down after Mizi left. He feels like he failed in protecting her, and not only that, he feels like there's nothing left for him to protect. He'd already thrown away the idea of protecting himself when he was entered into this competition, only motivated to protect himself to get far enough to go against Mizi in the final round, in which he was going to throw the round so that she could live. He completely threw away any protective instinct for his own survival, having accepted that at the beginning of this competition, because those he loves will always come first, and he and Mizi both couldn't survive, so really it was a no brainer for him. But now Mizi is gone, and he doesn't know how to get that desire to protect himself back, can't find the motivation for it. And so, going up against Ivan, all of the years of constantly fighting are just coming to get him, and he's just so tired. With nothing left, he was just going to throw the match. And then Ivan comes up and starts kissing him, which catches Till completely off guard. But then Ivan starts choking him before Till could process what that meant, and this made a lot more sense to him. Ivan killing him on stage lines up with everything he thinks Ivan to be; just another source of violence, and he's going to let him. But then he realizes what's actually going on, and it all clicks into place for him; Ivan loved him. Ivan had a whole inner world Till never knew because he decided to look away. And Ivan was something Till still had left to protect, but now he was gone. And all he has left to protect is the sacrifice Ivan left behind; himself.

TOGETHER:

It's unlikely these two have ever really met before; they were in different age groups when they were being trained as kids, and given their extremely different vibes it's unlikely they'd be asked to perform together or even be asked for from the same clients. So this competition is likely the first time they've met. Having never really met, what they currently think of each other is Till thinking Luka "is a dick who messed with Mizi and kisses up to the audience", and Luka thinks of Till as "an idiot who will go unhinged at the drop of a hat and has no sense of his own self preservation".

Till finds the motivation to want to survive, for Ivan's sake. He wants to protect Ivan's cause for dying, almost like he wants to make up for not properly seeing him over the years, for tossing him aside and not protecting him. Bro's got a whole complex he'll work on for the rest of his life, but right now it's really motivating him to win, so at least there's that.

It would be really easy for Luka get a negative reaction out of Till; he's very reactive to things. But I think Luka will fail in getting the right kind of reactions out of Till. Typically, when he backs his competitors into a corner, they feel too much turmoil to properly sing. But that's the thing with Till; he's reactive. If Luka pushes him physiologically, his response won't be to shut down, it'll probably motivate him to sing even better, try to sing over Luka out of spite. So Luka's best bet is to try and provoke Till into violence, and it'll prove a challenge for Till who probably already hates this guy for giving Mizi a breakdown. I bet for the entire round Till will have to try so hard not to beat this guy up, to push all his aggressive energy into the performance, but it's so clear how much he just wants to murder this man, leaving the crowd and the guards on pins and needles.

Till's normal style of competing seems to be singing over his opponents, making sure they have absolutely no time to collect themselves. It's kind of funny, how both Till and Luka's strategy is just to make the other one look worse. But Luka has a lot of experience with making the crowd like him, so he throws tricks at Till he wouldn't be expecting, somehow blending the performances perfectly. But Till has never been one to stick to the script, so I can imagine him just playing a wildly different tune, trying to force Luka to change lanes again and again, seeing if he can keep up. In the end, this isn't a performance; it's a fight, a tug of war for the spotlight.

On another point, I wonder if Till will accidently remind Luka of Hyuna; she was obviously a rebel herself, given her whole thing of going to go join a revolution, so I wonder if at some point in the performance Luka will see a bit of Hyuna in Till, and it'll cause some faulter. It's kind of funny; Luka will on purpose psychologically torment Till with those that he lost, and Till will accidently psychologically torment Luka with the one that he lost.

Really, them competing with each other is sort of like a round of chicken, seeing who will crack first. But of course, all this could be for naught when we thrown in these two uncontrollable elements; Hyuna and Mizi. They're here, at the facility, and they're in trouble. This is something both of them will deeply care about, and it's unclear how it'll factor in. I wonder, if at some point during the performance the two of them will realize Hyuna and Mizi's situation, and give each other a look, like they're saying to each other "okay fuck you and all but we've got to help them", and then their battle turns into a weird sort of temporary alliance. Maybe they try to distract the aliens with their performance or start actually fighting. Maybe they do some sort of weird complicated dance move that's made to break the power and to make it easier for Hyuna and Mizi to get away. Maybe they just say 'fuck it' and run off the stage together, going to help the other two and have them all escape. Either way, I think the ending of their performance won't have anything to do with the two of them at all, but rather another. And I suppose it's fitting for the two of them, whose current sense of identity is tied so closely to other people, rather than themselves.

[thatdisasterauthor]

Welcome!

I am currently raising money to help fund my top surgery.

Time for a new welcome post!

I am a queer author/illustrator out of Colorado with a love of adventure and survival stories. I also do a lot of work covering natural disasters and exploring disaster related media.

You can check out all of my art and writing work on this website, or my other Tumblr, @AspenAndCopper (which I swear I'll start posting on eventually...).

And you can learn about my disaster related work on THIS website.

I also try to tag things somewhat well here, to keep the blog as organized as possible, but this is tumblr so. Mileage may vary on that.

BOOKS:

🌲Poison in the Blood:

Adult fantasy adventure. Vampires. Train robberies. Post-post-apocalyptic. Family saga. Multiple queer characters. Ace characters.

Dustin Lockwood would give anything to find his little sister ten years after she was kidnapped while their family fled a dangerous coven that wanted them dead, or worse. 

Shae Lockwood, living it up in London as a rare human actress, would give anything not to be found.

--

Available through most major online retailers, and the ebook is in my own shop as well! Check out all buying options here.

🐎The Pits:

New adult fantasy western adventure. Our world but a little to the left. Siblings. Gender fluid character. Multiple queer characters. Strange forests. Found family.

No one goes into the Pits.

No one understands the magic of the Pits.

For those who try, there are consequences.

When Clarabella's girlfriend Emilia goes missing Clarabella tracks down the only person who can help: her outlaw older sibling Royal, who she hasn’t seen in three years.

Royal knows more about the strange magic of the world than anyone, more than they should. Magic Clarabella doesn’t believe in, until it's too late.

--

Available through most major online retailers, and the ebook is in my own shop as well! Check out all buying options here. Check out the book trailer below as well!

⛺Camp Daze:

New adult contemporary apocalyptic. Hopeful apocalypse. Multiple queer characters. Survival. Summer camp. Autistic main character.

Conifer was raised to survive the end of the world. Any end of the world. Except this one, alone in the woods with over a hundred-fifty kids to save and only a handful of other young counselors to help her.

--

Available through most major online retailers, and the ebook is in my own shop as well! Check out all buying options here.

[hed-romancer]

how twins are depicted in media

i've noticed that very rarely do fictional twins act like how real life twins do. they usually fall into one of two traps: Gimmick, or Plot Device. so let's run through some examples of poorly written twins!

Gimmick Twins

Gimmick Twins are supporting characters that are functionally one character for most of if not all of their screen time. They go everywhere together and do everything together, with limited exceptions. There might be one episode where they try different things or a few lines about how they don't like being treated as a set, but largely they are treated as set, by themselves, by the people around them, by the narrative. They are often comedic relief and any long term separation between them is seen as sad.

Examples include: Fred and George Weasley, Edric and Emira Blight, Ruffnut and Tuffnut Throston. I'm also putting the twins from the shining in here. why not.

Plot Device Twins

Plot Device Twins can be main characters, supporting characters, or one-off characters that *have to* be twins because the plot requires them to be. Think of any movie with identical twins changing places. They have to be identical twins because if they weren't, the plot couldn't happen at all. a main character's evil twin shows up and takes their place- the only reason this character has a twin is because the plot demands it.

i'm now going to take a moment to discuss one of the examples of Plot Device Twins that irks me the more i think about it. Stanley and Stanford Pines. and i hate to put them in here, because dipper and mabel are perhaps my favorite fictional twins in anything ever (they're there for each other but have differences but don't get treated as a set but are still a duo. they decide to stick together at the end of the show but there's no indication they plan on spending the rest of their lives living in the same place. perfection.) but stan and ford being twins irks me.

so obviously stan and ford had to be twins because they had to have similar names because stan had to take over his brother's identity but the show still wanted the audience to feel like they knew stan, and didn't want to have to change his entire name after not what he seems. thus stan is using a fake name (stanford) but also his real name (he's always gone by stan).

and i get it. it'd be a little strange if after 30 episodes of a show, the real stanford pines showed up and we had to start referring to the guy we thought was stan pines as like. john pines or something. it'd be weird.

also stan and ford are twins bc then they can serve as parallels to dipper and mabel.

i get it. i really do. i just don't like it. i personally think they should've gone balls-to-the-wall, and had stan's real name be something completely different entirely. then the older pineses could've been twins or could've been not twins, and i wouldn't mind either way.

but yeah it's just kinda noticeable to me that a show that has a really good depiction of twins and is created by a twin about his own experiences, still falls into the trap of needing another set of twins because the plot won't work otherwise.

i don't think i'm explaining this right. does this make sense to anyone?

[frikatilhi]

sorry to be the bringer of angst/negativity(?) in this here askbox, dont answer if u dont feel like it, but i just wanna let out some strange sadness i feel lately

but am i the only pessimist bojere bitch here? like the reason i ship them hard is because i think what they portray is so beautiful and cute? And that irl them are most likely aight friends at best and a lot of stuff are just exaggerated for the publicity? like i can believe maybe jere really is into the friendship at best but that's abt it?

idk, i've just been disillusioned by a lotta friendship/rpf that are milked to high heaven, only to end up being "for the shippers" and that they dont like each other at all?

all i ask is copium/pep talk that will make me believe somehow that the deep friendship they portray in public/socials mirror what they actually have.

soz for being cringe

:((

Oh no, anon, I understand! This kind of thinking can easily make you feel like you're all alone, because we are supposed to stay positive and firmly in delulu land and ignore the stuff that doesn't fit the narrative.

This got long so snip snip

But for what it's worth, leaving all the shipping stuff aside, I do happen to believe the friendship is very real and just as deep as they portray. If anything, I think Bojan seems to be downplaying it instead of hyping it, keeping it more private instead of posturing on social media. When they talk about each other, they seem very genuine.

I could have bought the argument about exaggarating it for publicity during ESC, I mean, the contestants and especially JO were all out there making friends and creating content and buzz about it, feeding off each other's popularity. I remember thinking that myself - oh, that's cute, what a nice bromance, but I am SO over that kind of narrative, straight friends being huggy for clicks, I want the real thing, I want the happy ending, not settling or falling for anyone's media strategy any more. And it kinda worked, didn't it? 7 points from the Finnish public!

Looking back, a lot of the cute insta stories were staged and purposefully filmed so I can see what you mean. (Also looking back, there are also many moments that were NOT like that, my favourites being the dinner date and everything that happened after the final.)

But then, Tavastia 1.0 happened, and that's when it all shifted for me. You mean Bojan dropped everything and flew to Finland, just to see Jere, just to hang out without an actual agenda (yes, he dropped in on the gig but that wasn't the purpose of the visit)?? And they went to karaoke and watched Twilight and Bojan hung out with Jere's friends when he had a gig out of town?? And it was a month after they had seen each other that they decided to actually keep that promise to visit each other and not let their friendship drop and their connection fade? You mean that actually happened??

And after that we've learned that they talk to each other regularly (like, once a week?) and share values and likes and love together. Bojan has been more quiet about it, sure, but (and now we enter into speculation land) he did seem to be a bit spooked about all the attention, I mean, who wouldn't freak out a little when people start obsessing over your new friendship and following your every move and social media click and write stories about you?

And Nordic Tour was... did you see that? Everything that happened (that we saw)? If it was only for publicity (publicity for what?? At this point, why do they still need it?) it was way too much and most of it totally unnecessary. Those were two people who genuinely enjoy each other's company.

Yes, they live far apart and rarely have time to see each other, but that doesn't mean their connection isn't real and deep and important.

[sylvemooniet]

Dead Little Bird

Word count: 4,078 words

Centric: Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd (father/son relation)

Trigger warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical death

Summary: which Bruce isn't Batman, but his children are still Robins.

Bruce was familiar with the "Robin" codename so many kids used to fight crime on their own. He already has met Dick Grayson, the little acrobatic orphan, so determined to protect the kids from bullies.

Dick was sometimes aggressive, Bruce couldn't say the contrary. He was surprised by how violently Robin beat the Wayne's kidnappers. Bruce couldn't blame him, that kid was an orphan, he needed to unleash his anger on something.

Many people didn't know how the famous billionaire playboy had soft spots for kids, especially orphans. After all, he was an orphan himself.

No one suspected a thing when the great Philanthropist adopted such a "poor helpless kid" like the little Grayson. It was funny how people theorized that the new Wayne was actually dating the mysterious Robin.

And still no one suspected when a new vigilante appeared on Bludhaven the same time the young Wayne moved away. Bruce was "alone" again. Even if he had Alfred, he missed his little Robin, but he was still proud of his Nightwing.

Then, there was a new kid. A new Robin. Such a bright smile and a great attitude, along with a fighting style obviously coming from the streets. The first time they met, he said to Bruce:

"Am I your new bodyguard now, old man?"

Wayne's memory of that day was clear as crystal, he remembers the boy headbutted one of the billionaire's kidnappers when saying that. That kid had a spark on his eyes, the spark Bruce already saw, on himself.

When the new Robin appeared in Bruce's life, the media joked about the philanthropist being a magnet to the vigilante children. And well, they weren't exactly wrong.

Besides Dick quickly revealing his identity to Bruce, it wasn't the same situation with the new kid. He even asked Alfred to do a research in all Gotham City's orphanages to find out more about the boy, but there was nothing, there was no one who looked like the new Robin. Bruce forgot the kid wasn't like Grayson, maybe he had parents, but would they really let a twelve-years-old fight crime?

Wayne offered the boy a decent Robin uniform, hence the kid's one was just dirty and fragile clothes that wouldn't help him fight crime. But the kid refused without thinking twice.

"I don't need your charity, old man. I know how to take care of myself."

The various scars on the kid's body proved he was lying. Even with the optimistic attitude and strength, there was still a truth: no Robin lasts too long.

Grayson was quite lucky, he became popular, he had support, he had Bruce. Dick was one of the only Robins who could grow up to be a better hero. It wasn't rare to see in the news about the police finding a body of a kid wearing red and green with a poorly sewed R brand.

And Bruce didn't want to see such a determined kid dead. But one night, he was just leaving a party, when he saw the kid fighting some thugs like always, but the boy obviously didn't have any advantage. Wayne's bodyguards got into action as he ordered, helping the little boy to win the fight.

But he was already unconscious. His small body was completely bruised, a reminder of a child who's already a soldier. It was unfair of a kid fighting against grown adults.

"Sir, he's still breathing."

So Bruce brought him home. It surprised Alfred to see him carrying a child in his arms again, he hadn't seen a scene like that since Dick had grown up.

When Grayson paid a visit in the next morning, he didn't expect to see a new Robin kid at the Wayne Manor. The butler told him about the last night, about how Bruce found him barely alive.

And the little boy was surprised when he woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room, with the billionaire old man he liked to provoke.

"Uhh, do you collect children or something?"

It was the first thing he said to Bruce when he woke up. He was still wearing his bloody clothes, but there was Dick's old clothes on the nightstand for him.

"Wasn't I supposed to be your bodyguard, old man? Not the contrary."

He tried to get off of the bed, but even after Alfred taking care of his wounds, it still hurt. Then, he just leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. His temper was obviously different from Dick's, and he was way more stubborn.

"What's your name, kid?"

Bruce asked once again, even if everytime the answer was the same.

"None of your business."

And the boy wouldn't change his reply so easily.

"Listen to me, I really need your name, and your parents' phone number, they must be worried about you."

For some reason, that made the kid chuckle like it was a really bad joke.

"I'm Jason. Jason Todd. And my parents aren't exactly available, y'know?"

"... What do you mean?"

Bruce already expected an answer coming from Jason. But if he really was an orphan, why Alfred didn't find anything about him while searching?

"Well, old man, my parents are pretty much dead."

"But, but… I made searches about you, you aren't in any orphanage or foster system. Is there anyone who's taking care of you?"

"As I said before, I can take care of myself, old man."

"But you're a child."

"Wrong, I'm a Robin."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, not even Grayson was that stubborn, but still, he wasn't Grayson, he was Todd.

"Why were you fighting so many people? They were double your size and clearly on advantage against you."

"They were stopping me from reaching my goal."

"And what is it?"

For a moment, Jason looked at him like what he truly was, a lost kid. Then, he looked away, almost like he was holding his tears, hiding them from Bruce and himself. He needed to be strong, like a real Robin.

"It doesn't matter, alright? Thanks for saving me or whatever, but I can just go now."

"Where do you live?"

"What are you? A stalker?"

Jason replied quickly, being extremely defensive.

"Jason, you said your parents are dead, where do you live? And with who?"

"Nowhere, and with no one. I'm no one's son."

"You're a kid, you can't just live on the streets."

Bruce said, his voice getting more soft as he tried to gain Jason's trust.

"Am I your new charity project, old man? Will you adopt me just like you did with the other Robin?"

Dick was spying the conversation through the slightly open door, but he backed away when Jason mentioned him. The boy was smart enough to connect the dots between Dick Grayson-Wayne and the acrobatic boy wonder.

"Listen to me, Jason. You at least need a place to live, and I need to compensate for the times you saved me."

"I don't need your help."

Jason tried to get out of the bed once again, but his body was shaking, still weak. He looked like a helpless kid, and he hated that.

"Jason, please, at least let me pay you a place to live. I know being Robin doesn't pay you."

"... Fine. But remember, you're not my father, and I'm not your trophy son."

==========

Kids were supposed to be easy to deal with. But as Jason stated various times, he wasn't a kid, he was a Robin, and being Robin gave him magic.

Both Alfred and Dick were surprised when Bruce told them he bought an apartment for a "random kid". Jason wasn't a random kid to him… Even if they weren't actually close to each other.

There was a kind of new routine in the Wayne Manor, at least once a week the little Robin came to ask Alfred to help him with the worst wounds he got and couldn't patch them himself. And sometimes he also came to return Bruce back to safety after another attempt of criminals to kidnap Bruce.

"You need to learn how to take care of yourself, old man."

Jason joked, wiping the blood out of his nose, he smiled, even after being hurt because of another fight. He was used to it, and not for just being Robin. But it wasn't a problem anymore, he had his Robin's magic.

And if Bruce was lucky enough, the little Todd would come by for dinner. He was hard to convince, but he still enjoyed being with Bruce, Alfred and sometimes, Dick.

And in an "unfortunate night", according to Jason, Grayson made up a nickname for him, and never stopped using it. "Little Wing", it was how he called the boy.

"When I get older, I'll be taller than you. You'll see who's the little one!"

That just made Dick laugh at him, he said Jason looked cute when he tried to threaten someone, and Alfred hid the knives just to guarantee the boy wouldn't take extreme measures.

Bruce thought of Dick as a reflection of himself, but Jason was unique. The boy wasn't like any of the Waynes, he was in fact a Todd, he was not part of the family.

Grayson and him were Robins, but they were different. Even when Dick was violent, it doesn't compare to how bruised the pimps Jason fought were. The news said this Boy Wonder was crazy, aggressive, the worst Robin Gotham City ever had.

"I can't wait to find this kid dead in a dark alley."

It was what Jason overheard from a cop another day. Once the policeman and the young vigilante met again, the man had an "accident" during work that broke his arm.

Alfred noticed the little boy was smiling a lot during dinner that day, even more than usual. And the butler knew that smile, a smile of a child who just did a mischievous thing.

"Master Jason, did you have a lot of fun today?"

"A lot, Alfred."

One day, a body was found under a balcony, it was presumed the man was pushed to his death. And on that balcony, there was Robin, the possible culprit. And people accused a child of murder.

"I didn't kill him! And what if I did? He literally violated a woman!"

Jason tried to justify himself to Bruce, who was worried about the boy, as he was needing to hide himself, afraid of getting arrested.

"Jason, you can trust me, have you done it?"

Wayne asked him with a soft tone, trying to comfort the little boy. He tried to reach his hand to touch Jason's shoulder, but he stepped back.

"Bruce, do you really think I'm a murderer!?"

The man didn't answer, and Jason felt his heart breaking, the boy thought he could finally trust someone. But he was still seen as a criminal, even to the person he thought… The person he thought could be a new father to him.

"Jason… I…"

Bruce stopped himself, as he noticed something. The Robin was crying, and he was actually being a child, not a hero. A child in despair to be trusted.

"Jason… I'm…"

He didn't let Wayne finish, he just ran away out of the manor. And Bruce didn't stop him. He broke the boy's trust, and he didn't deserve to say anything to him.

Bruce tried to be the father of a no one's son. And nobody is surprised he failed. The Wayne Manor isn't supposed to be a place for kids like Jason, who fought fate itself to survive.

But, a week later, the investigation stopped, Robin was no longer a suspect. It was very sudden, but the detectives with a new big quantity of money in their pockets wouldn't justify it.

And in the same night the investigations stopped. In the same rainy night, the window of the Wayne Manor was opened by an "intruder", who noticed the great Philanthropist on the couch, like he was waiting for someone.

The little "intruder" sat down with him, his head leaned on his shoulder. Bruce caressed the boy's soaked hair, which startled him a little bit, but he slowly gave in.

"I'm sorry, Jason."

Despite Bruce's morals, his codes, the laws. He would do anything for his sons, no matter what. And Jason knew that, and he finally felt safe.

==========

Jason spent his fourteenth and fifteenth birthday with the Waynes, and even if he didn't say it, he wanted to spend all his birthdays with them.

It didn't matter if the boy wasn't in the charity galas like Dick was. It didn't matter if he didn't show himself publicly as a Wayne. Bruce saw Jason as his little bird, as his son.

And Bruce was really proud of his son. Like Grayson, he was a hero. He watched how Todd was growing up, how he was growing better, and he was a hero Bruce could never be.

The Robin was always around in the manor, even if he wouldn't easily admit, he felt at home. All the dinners, the sleepovers, the movie nights, it felt like home. He finally had a home to come back to by the end of the day.

Bruce would make a surprise for Jason, finally getting the paperwork to adopt the little bird, to finally call him "son". It would be a surprise gift, right after him coming back from patrol as Robin.

Wayne waited excited, he knew Todd would be equally happy. He was so proud of what he became, and will be more proud when he finally can call this hero his son.

It was already late, and he still didn't come back. He tried calling him, hoping he just went directly to his apartment that night, it would be understandable, but nobody picked up the phone.

Bruce turned on the television, maybe Jason was late because he was in the middle of a big situation. It already happened sometimes, so it wouldn't be different from those times. But all that he heard was nothing about one of the Robins.

But Jason, he only heard the sound of his ribs breaking after yet another hit with that crowbar. His vision was completely blurry, and it was so hard to breathe. He looked over the woman that smoked while he was in pain.

Jason never told Bruce about how he was searching for his biological mother, just Alfred was helping him secretly, and he made the butler promise he wouldn't tell anyone.

But the little Robin didn't expect his mother to be a backstabber, and in that exact moment, the metal hit his back, breaking even more ribs. Then, he heard laughter.

The laughter of a maniac clown, the one who was enjoying so much causing pain to him. Sometimes he even joked about it, like it was the most funny thing to watch.

"Uh oh, the little bird got a broken wing, maybe your mommy could help you… Oops!"

Then, more laughter followed by another hit that made his eyes water again. Jason was feeling so weak, feeling the cold floor and his own blood accumulating under him.

"D-dad…"

Jason cried out, his voice hoarse and weak. That brought his mother's attention, she knew Willis Todd was dead. But that wasn't the father her son was calling for. He was calling for Bruce, even if he wasn't a vigilante like him, even if he couldn't fight anyone.

Jason just wanted to be in his father's arms again, even if he's dying. He just wanted to be home again.

"Awn, look! Little bird is calling for daddy. What a pity!"

He sobbed in silence, he couldn't give that clown the happiness for breaking him. Jason was broken, very broken, but still, he shouldn't cry, Bruce would probably be disappointed at him.

If his biological mother betrayed him, backstabbed him without thinking twice, Bruce would never save him, even if he knew about his current situation.

The boy's mind became foggy, probably because of so many times his head got hit by that fucking crowbar. The psychopath clown wasn't there anymore, but his mother was tied up. His only memories were of untying her, and a ticking sound, then, nothing.

Bruce found himself awake until very late, even if his mind felt asleep, it woke up, and unfortunately, to the sound of Vicki Vale's voice.

"... A sudden explosion occurred in a warehouse in Gotham City's south area. The GCPD is investigating what might have caused it."

The camera showed a lot of rubble, and various policemen around the area, searching for clues and possible bodies. And they found it.

"Attention! The police just found the body of a child!"

Bruce became startled, his heart was getting tight on his chest, and the tears were ready to come. And when the camera zoomed to a very familiar boy's body, he felt broken.

He didn't get any time for any other type of reaction, his emotions were taking total control of him, Bruce was no longer acting rational. Minutes later, he was exiting the car right in front of the crime scene.

"I can't believe it, Mister Wayne! What are you doing here!?"

And similar reactions were heard by him, but completely ignored as he walked towards his son's body, which was being taken by the police.

"Mister Wayne, you shouldn't come closer, this is a crime scene."

They tried to stop Wayne, but they failed, as he got Jason's limp body in his arms. The boy was already so cold, his eyes still open, all the blue going away. The blood was still wet, staining Bruce's clothes, but he didn't care.

His little bird was dead. His son was dead. Bruce thought the pain of his parents' death was unbearable, but he never thought he would have his son's body in his arms, so cold, so lifeless.

Bruce carefully closed the corpse's eyes, so it looked like the boy was just sleeping, but he knew he wasn't. He held his son tighter to his chest, and screamed. His screams were so painful, as his heart was completely shattered.

Alfred made sure the police and the media wouldn't talk about that moment. And the butler also made sure the boy would be buried with the Waynes, as he should be.

Jason wasn't as lucky as Dick, he wasn't an exception. His end was just like the other Robins. Dead, found brutally killed.

Grayson really wanted to see Jason grow up to prove he wasn't his Little Wing anymore. Grayson wished he could call his little brother his Big Wing.

Alfred really wanted to see Jason's mischievous smile once again. Alfred wished he could bake Jason's sixteenth birthday cake.

Bruce really wished he could have saved Jason. Bruce really wished he could see Jason's smile again. Bruce really wished to hear Jason calling him old man again.

Bruce wanted his little bird back.

==========

Both the media and the GCPD didn't want to admit it, but Gotham got worse after Jason's death. He was one of the best Robins the city ever had.

Dick spent more time in Gotham since that, to act both as Nightwing and comfort Bruce. Wayne needed his son to be with him, and even if Grayson wasn't the son he wanted, he wanted to make his father happy.

They just didn't expect to find Bruce's neighbor inside of the manor, wearing a Robin costume, while having the worst dark bags under his eyes.

Somehow, the little boy knew about the relation Bruce had with the Robins, he knew about Dick and also knew about Jason. The Waynes started to think that kid was a stalker.

The boy was Timothy Drake, who was clearly obsessed with the Robin concept, and the fact the most important Robins of the city were his neighbors, it made him very excited. Even if one was gone.

"C'mon, Bruce, could you resist this kid puppy's eyes?"

Somehow, Dick convinced the philanthropist to not report the kid to his parents, or even to the police. And Tim's parents didn't seem to care about his safety, since he was just running around as Robin without them worrying about him.

And the story repeated itself, with Bruce having another Robin under his wing. He expected the story would go differently, and he wouldn't need to hold his son's body again.

The years were going through, and still, every single day Bruce had visited Jason's grave, but still, he wasn't in the moment his son dug out of his own grave.

It wasn't a surprise when the philanthropist was once again kidnapped, criminals really liked abducting rich people. But he wasn't in panic, it was just like another Saturday, and he was just waiting for Tim to show up.

But it wasn't a Robin who showed up. A person with a red helmet entered the room, and even if Bruce nor the criminals could see his face, they knew he was pissed.

"You idiots can't do a thing right, I told you to not get him. You should give me a reason to not explode your heads right now."

The mysterious man said, and Bruce could feel some familiarity in his voice. The criminals didn't even dare to blink in the wrong moment, obviously scared by their leader.

"You should all go, and if any of you try eavesdropping, I'll cut your ears off."

They all exited immediately, even Wayne was scared by his attitude. And for some reason, he was freeing him from the restraints. That was a very different kind of mob boss.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, old man. I don't hurt you and you don't call those pigs, are we good?"

Bruce looked at him suspiciously, everything was so familiar, but he couldn't point it out.

"Also, don't call your bird boys, do you hear me?"

"You mean the Robins?"

"Exactly, old man. You keep collecting them, apparently. So, just leave, call your butler to take you or whatever."

"Why are you just letting me go?"

"Damn, how ungrateful of you. It's because you're not a bad rich person, if you were some like, I don't know, Lex Luthor, you'd be already dead."

"... Thanks."

"Just go already."

And when Bruce left the building, he almost immediately found Tim, who was in his Robin uniform. If Jason was alive, he would feel replaced.

Days later, the news was just about the infamous Red Hood, who was cleaning up the streets from crime, while staining them with blood.

And still, somehow, the Red Hood and Bruce kept meeting, as criminals still tried to steal from him. And for some reason, a mob boss was determined to protect him.

"Am I your new bodyguard now, old man?"

That phrase, those exact words, they were so familiar, it reminded him of his son. But if Jason was alive, he would think he was forgotten.

"Do I… Do I know you?"

Bruce asked, searching for eye contact even if the man hid his face behind that helmet.

"I saved your ass sometimes. Geez, old man, have you already forgotten? Most of the time, people don't forget about a man with a red helmet."

"No, it's not it. I feel like we've met before. Before all this."

If Jason was alive, he would think his father just moved on after his death.

"What if we did meet? Does something change?"

"You… You remind me of my son."

"Your… Son?"

If Jason was alive, he would have thought his death was meaningless to Bruce, or to anyone.

"My son, Jason."

And he was alive. The Red Hood removed his helmet, revealing the face Bruce missed seeing. Jason was older, but it was still him, even if he was changed. It was still his son.

Bruce was in complete shock as he tried to process the information his son was alive. Jason thought his father would back down, run away from the pain, he must have done the same when he was dead, right?

But Bruce's arms were wrapped around him, hugging him tightly, like he was afraid he would lose his son again. Jason gasped in surprise, but returned the hug. He thought his dad forgot about him, but he didn't.

Wayne cried on his shoulder, and he noticed how tall his son got. He was his little bird, but he was so big now, completely grown up.

"Bruce…"

"I missed you, little bird, I missed you so much."

[ambyandony]

its melone

heres monster au melone & some of the concept sketches for his sigil. yes he actually looks like this .

this was supposed to be short and a quick summary but then i started saying things so... monster au loredump!! with a couple of visuals!!

hes a cambion (so half-human and half-demon) and for some reason people seem to think its his fault he is the kid of a demon as if he had a fuckin say in that?

hes actually not as bad as hes generally made out to be (he kinda wishes people would jump to conclusions a little less often when they hear hes a cambion because it's pretty annoying). I mean he's pretty strange and likes to weird people out but . He's not actually as bad as people assume.

I'd say most likely hes also got some real stress from his whole situation and some shit thats happened to him (almost definitely some of it is thanks to him being the kid of a demon). Whatever background / general circumstances he has, it's given him either some kind of trauma or some other various psychological-emotional issues that he probably tries to mask by his habit of being offputting just to mess with people. not totally sure what specifically is up with him but theres definitely a lot going on there that he would prefer not to discuss

but hes still a little bastard and i still want to hit him with a rolled up newspaper. di molto THIS, bitch *smacks him upside the head*

anyways,

physiology

Melone is actually the most unique in terms of known infernals in monster au insofar; unlike trish, diavolo, and abbacchio (kinda), Melone falls under the category of 'head-horned' and 'pencil-tailed' (or 'wire-tailed').

Most infernals seen in the Monster AU sorta resemble D&D style tieflings; Trish, Diavolo and Abbacchio are all considered face-horned and slope-tailed and are also wingless. Though Abbacchio is 'smooth-tailed' and Trish and Diavolo are 'fur-tailed', their construction is essentially the same.

Melone has a semblance to the more simplified / stylised pop media depictions of demons, yknow, like the little devil on the shoulder guy, little horns on the top of the head, thin pointy tail, tiny wings, etc. These kinds of demons do exist, but they are actually incredibly rare, on account of their physiological construction being pretty uhhh... not the best . (IM NOT CALLING YOU 'GOOD BOY' THIS BODY STRUCTURE IS SHIT!!!!!)

the wings are exclusively aesthetic, (yes they are actually they (unsurprisingly) can't actually even remotely support his weight (nature takes pity on these fuckers and usually these demons are able to semi-innately use minor levitation instead) and he can barely move them either, since they're barely connected to him if at all.

The horn placement doesn't really have an evolutionary bearing (face-horned infernals seem to be more common for some reason or another, but head-horned infernals aren't too rare); it's more just that the size of the horns that are seen on his specific breed/species are pretty much useless and seemingly have little to no function other than making hats hard to wear and getting in the way when they're trying to brush their hair.

his ears are pointed but short; whether this has to do with his hybridism or not isn't entirely clear, but they're observed to have a limited range of independent motion (he can move them somewhat). Demons with longer ears can also often achieve some level of independent motion; how much can vary, but generally, it ranges between only being able to twitch them to having either up-and-down motion or outward-inward motion, but never both. Which type of ear movement a demon has is often based on the natural position of the ears or the 'function' that the specific demon has.

Melone's ears, however, despite being shorter, have the same quality of hearing and a much wider range of motion, having both up-down and forward-backwards movement, likely owing to the muscles and cartilage that would have contributed to ear length—instead being structured to facilitate the expanded range of motion. or some shit

the construction of a pencil-tailed demon's tail is frail and lacks power, yet seems to be important for the flow of magic through their bodies. Unfortunately for them, though the tails can be somewhat prehensile, they are pretty easily chopped off due to the bones inside them being light and fragile and the tails themselves being very thin. Slope-tailed infernals, on the other hand, have much sturdier construction, thicker and stronger bones, more flesh to protect the bones, and some species also have tough scales.

magic

Melone has access to a range of magic as an infernal cryptian; almost every demon in human society has access to illusory magic out of necessity. His illusory magic is by default active on himself, but through magic development and practice, he can also use it beyond himself, though his illusory magic seems unusually (unusual for demons in general, anyway... not necessarily unusual for his kind) limited to only working on living things, people specifically.

He mostly keeps it confined to himself, but also often extends it to Ghiaccio since Ghiaccio isn't a magic user and has trouble with his partial transformations happening near-constantly (in reaction to his emotional states and sometimes just randomly). The auxiliary magic is pretty much the thing that best helps Ghiaccio with human passing. He hates his ailuranthropy and hates exhibiting it, so aside from just keeping Ghiaccio safe in general through helping with human-passing, it also makes the poor bastard feel a bit better since his ailuranthropy isn't showing.

Melone may push his luck and test Ghiaccio's (and Risotto's) patience with the use of a cheap laser pointer but at least he still cares. (the laser pointer 'prank' perpetuated by Melone and Formaggio irritates Risotto to the point where (to quote myself, from an earlier post:) the members of the team are explicitly told, sternly, by risotto, not to carry and/or use laser pointers around the hideout anymore, because the laser pointers’ literal only use is making Ghiaccio accidentally break the furniture and they frankly can’t afford it (risotto vc) "i do not care how fucking funny you think it is we don’t have the funds for the potential collateral")

As mentioned, Melone also has use of levitative abilities. which he naturally over-uses because it's fun and awesome to be able to freely float around with the exertion of little to no physical effort. he frequently hovers a bit and has a tendency to like. recline mid-air you know the sort. Every so often, if he's particularly tired, he can, somehow, fall asleep in mid-air.

in particular, due to his species / breed plus his demihumanity, he can't really use offensive magic—or things such as aurafire or flares—aside from using very weak projections in desperate situations but it tends to drain him quickly and doesn't do much damage.

regarding his concentration of mana / magic and its flow through him;

Like many inherently-magical creatures, Melone needs to have a proper manaflow for the sake of his own health.

mana and mana exhaustion monster au lore side tangent

For creatures that are magical in nature—I'm gonna call those magicrypts (magic cryptians) to make this a bit quicker—they rely on manaflow to live just as much as bloodflow and airflow—assuming they even need either of those. Actually, the reason that it's often hard to kill demons and magicrypt in general without utilising their weaknesses is that if they start suffering blood loss (asphyxiation, too, sometimes), they can supplement it with their manaflow, which keeps them alive despite exsanguination ( / asphyxiation ). Stand Users are also supernaturally vigorous which may have some relation to the flow of mana even for non-mage humans.

They are always, or almost always, circulating mana, and they must be able to replenish their supply of it so they don't run out. Most beings do not naturally produce it on their own, though, and instead gain it through mana absorption which has various methods / types. Often, creatures that need mana to survive have a way to stockpile / store it for later use, which facilitates the use of 'actual magic'—magic is kinda a synonym of mana, but can also mean magic that's 'used', castmagic (I don't like the term 'spell', it's too specific).

A magicrypt without mana storing capacity (very rare) has a lesser capacity for castmagic, unless they draw the mana for the casting directly from their environment which is incredibly hard to do, especially in such a short amount of time—and especially when the mana is converted directly into castmagic without pre-conversion in the body, wherein a magicrypt's manaflow naturally converts the inbound mana into the most efficient, practical, or usable form—so, casting magic like this has a high risk of backfire.

As a little piece of trivia, because it's a radiation of magical energy, if a magic-reliant monster suddenly loses too much and they can't replenish, they will drain their own aura into mana just to prolong their own survival for just a little while longer.

Melone has a typical construction that facilitates storing mana and building up an extra supply of it for use without disrupting his vital primary manaflow. If he ever were to run out of mana completely, Melone would most likely fall severely ill, and eventually die soon after his aura starts fading, if somehow he wasn't able to restore his manaflow before then.

It also should be noted—there is a minor caveat for someone such as Melone when it comes to mana exhaustion:

... as a Stand User, his soul's energy (which is, for all intents and purposes, a form of mana) is manifested as an entity—a Stand—and, consequently, Baby Face is essentially a mass of concentrated energy. If the body exhausts all mana, isn't replenishing, and has already drained its aura's mana as a last-ditch substitute... well, obviously, the body is gonna start pretty much straight-up metabolising the Stand into magical energy, which is incredibly hard to recover from, assuming the person even manages to survive after that point.

Popular to contrary belief, most demons probably have souls. Also all Stand Users have souls (unless in a very specific kind of special case) because their Stands 'are' their souls.

While having proper blood and oxygen flow/supply seems like it should mean he would be fine just surviving off of that, especially given his half-humanity—which does allow him to do this for a while—Melone still cannot survive without mana... at least, certainly not without likely feeling he'd rather be dead instead, because any survival past mana exhaustion is pretty agonising; and also... as stated, after total loss of manaflow and exhaustion of a Stand User's aura, the, like... magic 'respiratory system' instinctively starts absorbing the Stand and using it as mana, which... kind of destroys the psyche? like, that's basically the body obliterating its own soul. after that point youre just. fucked. but—basically, it's unlikely for anyone to survive mana exhaustion once it gets to the point of magically cannibalising their Stand (kinda like how you're fucked once rabies becomes symptomatic), and if they do, there's a strong chance they will never recover anyway.

Circumstances differ, but the conversion of the Stand into mana cannot be undone. Not really, anyway, but if a piece of the Stand remains in its original form, there's a slim chance it could be restored, though this would be hard; and most notably of all, the loss of the Stand is like the loss of the Soul, and a loss of the Soul, especially in this way, directly damages the psyche, which leaves the sufferer as basically a 'shell of their former selves'. While they may be able to function and live, their personality will be vastly different, if they have a detectable personality left at all.

back to talking about melone

For demons, or at least demons of Melone's type, their tails are (essentially) organs for mana intake of various sorts, and also sort of contain a mana 'artery' of sorts as all or most manaflow is "attached" to it. So if a demon of that sort were to lose their tail, they might be unable to replenish their manaflow, and would probably start 'bleeding' magic likely to the point of quick mana exhaustion and eventual death (as above).

Melone's tail, though it tends to mainly move either expressively or absentmindedly (like with most tailed monsters), often is seen pointed towards the ground or resting against it, which he claims is because that's how he collects magical energy.

It's actually not the most effective way of magic absorption for him, because of his species type. His demon half is most likely 'animasugent' (or maybe manasugent I haven't decided yet); so would primarily use 'sugent' absorption, or 'sapping'—basically, he's meant to drain energies from others and then convert them into his own manaflow—rather than the environmental absorption he claims to do. Sugent absorption is presumably what he (the demon part of him, rather) is cryptophysiologically 'designed' to perform. But he's honestly—despite what others' assumptions would likely have you believe—not a big fan of the 'traditional' method even when sugent absorption would be quicker and more effective for him, so he relies mostly on the environmental absorption and just does it more often to compensate.

Alternatively, he can also do lunar absorption—collecting magical energy from the moon, which is known to be a major source of magical energy for Earth as a whole. This pretty much just entails going outside at night and having access to the moonlight.

There's a very small problem to this method, and it's that Melone is one of the unfortunate (few? many? hard to say) who are susceptible to moonsickness. Effectively every cryptian and/or mage has a particular threshold for mana exposure tolerance. Moonsickness is, to put it simply, what happens when that threshold is passed in regards to the moon. It's a bit awkward because it's a very general term that could also refer to a few specific things, but generally, moonsickness is a 'magical' illness that occurs with overexposure to the moon and/or its magical energy.

It's because the moon and moonlight are arguably the most powerful sources of magical energy on Earth (it's something about the moon itself that makes the sunlight suddenly become magical upon being reflected off its surface—sunlight is not inherently magical in most ways that aren't related to Hamon) and have their own 'kind' of magical energy, lunar mana, and some people can have different tolerances for terrestrial mana vs lunar mana, which is why moonsickness is so prevalent. So a being who can use magic just fine, such as Melone, can still be pretty sensitive to the moon's energy.

The exact symptoms of moonsickness are kind of dependent, there seem to be different 'kinds' of moonsickness, or it affects people differently based on certain factors. It can affect the same person in different ways if the conditions are 'right'.

Some sufferers of moonsickness suffer it like an actual physical illness, usually experiencing nausea, terrible headaches, fever, congestion, etc. like, sometimes people just get the fucking flu from the moon.

Some sufferers have a sort of overflow upon being hypercharged from the moon's energy, and despite being too full of energy, they display the exact opposite; they suddenly become weak and fatigued, lose all their strength, and oftentimes, they briefly faint or collapse.

Some sufferers are afflicted with magical malfunction—either their abilities don't work, don't work properly, backfire, or just straight-up go haywire (this is common in children with magical inclinations).

Finally, some moonsick individuals slip into lunacy, a violent and/or incoherent state where the sufferer is likely to endanger themselves and others. Lunacy is most often seen in zooanthropes, but other cryptians can also suffer from it.

Melone's symptoms vary on the day. He can do lunar absorption if he's careful or finds a balance, but he generally stays out of moonlight. At my current concept, on the Full Moon, I figure he loses all magic ability (and the loss of power lingers into the following morning, probably, like a magic hangover) but Melone probably spends a good portion of the night making sure Ghiaccio isn't about to go insane anyway (the full moon seems to be the one time that he fully transforms, so he's usually in a lot of pain which naturally pisses him off) . not 100% on that tho

alright ill shut up now hope you enjoyed the side tangent ciao <3

[arizonatea-and-nikolatesla]

Hazbin hate and bigotry

(This probably is rambly because it’s almost 2 in the morning and these are half asleep thoughts)

Maybe this is just a me thing- or maybe this is glaringly obvious, but it’s so strange to me that a lot of the fandoms that get the most hate are ones where non-conforming people make up a lot of the fandom.

Steven universe and Hazbin Hotel/ Helluva boss are the first things that come to mind. Women, LGBTQ+ people, and neurodivergent people are a huuuge part of the fandom. Do they do some questionable and problematic stuff sometimes? Yeah- but what fandom doesn’t?

Things like Fnaf, Star Wars, etc. that have a large male audience are rarely treated the same way. Even though they used to be considered “uncool”, you were just nerdy or a little weird if you were into them(especially if you were a dude). Now a days people generally would think you’re a dick if you’re making fun of people for liking these things.

There were way weirder cartoons on back when Steven universe was airing. There are weirder things on now- the boys, Rick and Morty, both shows I do enjoy, but If their audience didn’t have a large amount of members that were/are cis men- they’d also either be ‘weird’ or at the very least not as well liked.

Even shows that are popular- think shows enjoyed mostly by women. Twilight, the vampire diaries- they’re generally considered cringy by people who don’t enjoy them. And men will make fun of women for enjoying it- this is less obvious than my previous examples because a lot of women who are considered “normal” like these shows. That doesn’t stop them from getting made fun of for liking them, or judged- mostly by men. A lot of the hate I see for something like twilight outside of men just calling it dumb is actually well structured analysis of the books and movies, not just bullying.

I don’t think I’ve seen many shows that can get away with marketing to young adults who aren’t men. They are either blasted on the internet like the people who like them are some kind of cringy freaks (Steven universe, Hazbin hotel, etc), or they fade into obscurity or get canceled (inside job, tuca and birdie).

If something is weird- it has to be for men, or it’s suddenly a crime to enjoy it.

P.S.

This is also seen inside fandoms that have become more socially acceptable. When people are nerdy in ways that aren’t necessarily ‘cool’ or generally accepted they are often bullied by not just other people, but people in the fandom. Honestly even when more diverse people get INTO fandoms some fans go crazy. “Omg girls and gay people like Star Wars?! They’re ruining the movies!” By simply existing or posting silly little fan art videos on TikTok because they’re enjoying their media and not just letting their eyes glaze over while they watch a movie.

P.P.S.

This is of course not to say these shows or some of their creators don’t have flaws- obviously they do. However people often magnify these flaws in order to have a ‘non-bigoted’ way to make fun of people who don’t fit into their world view.

You’re not a good person if you bully neurodivergent teenagers off the internet because they like something you don’t. Do some self reflection. You can not like something and just choose not to engage with it.

P.P.P.S

The leopards will also eat your face, btw. (For those of this who it applies to. You know who you are.)

[ionobjectshow]

I think Cracklin is one of the [if not THE] best written autistic gay man I've ever SEEN. I love his obsessive tendencies that rarely get shown in other types of media, I adore how [affectionately] strange he is! An odd ball for sure :3

It's something special to be able to give such great characterization and dynamics to characters so quickly in the first episode. The second episode is even greater; I just know that ION is going to be known as one of the greatest object shows to ever be written! Great work

☢ Thank you very much /cries with happiness/

☢ I've often encountered Cracklin being seen as an annoying character, "a creepy freak", "a stalker", "problematic", and a bunch of other not-so-nice words that make me very, very sad. After all, I just wanted to convey autistic hyperfixation as realistically as possible. Like other “little oddities” of Cracklin, based on personal experience.

☢ Unfortunately, this caused as much confusion and judgment as autistic behavior in real life. I have heard similar words and accusations addressed to me. And Cracklin is getting them now too @_@

☢ But every time I jump like a child with happiness when someone recognizes themselves in Cracklin and understands what I’m trying to convey! It is very important for me. Cracklin does weird things, yes, but he's not bad! He just doesn’t know any other way, he was born this way. He always sincerely expresses his emotions and feelings, and then encounters misunderstanding or surprise, receiving ridicule from Sylvia, for example. I wanted to show how different persons might react to an autistic character by putting them together and observing them from the outside and a little from the inside. ☢ I'll show even more interactions between them in episode 3, I promise!! Very soon!

[princesskenny1998]

MHA | Bakugou Katsuki x proHero!reader ~ Ship

As a newly debuted pro hero with a unique and rather unconventional quirk you’d quickly gained a following, along with some reputation in the field. Though your career was young, people noticed you, both for your fierce and chaotic fighting style and your public persona that fans couldn’t help but love.

However, none of that could prepare you for the strange twist in popularity that arrived one morning when you checked your phone and found countless tags linking you to none other than Dynamight himself. Social media was flooded with fan edits, speculations, and even a hashtag dedicated to the two of you as a “power couple.” And sure, Dynamight was undeniably attractive and undeniably talented, but you’d never even met him.

As you scrolled through one edit—one where someone had cut together footage of you and Dynamight side by side, looking fierce and intimidating—you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. The idea of you and Dynamight as a duo was amusing at best, although you had to admit it didn’t look half-bad.

By noon, your agent called.

“Hey, you’ve seen the social media storm, right?” they asked, barely containing their excitement.

“Yeah, I did,” you replied, still a bit amused. “Is this really something to be concerned about?”

“Well, here’s the thing: the higher-ups in the agency think this might actually be good for both your PR and Dynamight’s,” they said. “It’s an opportunity to build more buzz around you as a new hero. The public loves the idea of a ‘Power Couple,’ you know?”

You rolled your eyes, but the idea of meeting Dynamight did intrigue you, just a little. He was known for his relentless drive and hard-hitting quirk. People idolized him for his intensity and strength. However, his temper was also notorious, and you were almost certain that meeting him would be anything but a smooth experience.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” you asked, giving in.

“We’re arranging for you two to meet up. You’ll both be aware of it, and the plan is to pair you up on a mission soon after. Nothing crazy, just something to get people talking.”

And just like that, you were locked in.

The day of your arranged meeting arrived, and you made your way to the agency’s assigned training facility, knowing Dynamight would already be there. A part of you felt nervous—Bakugou Katsuki, aka Dynamight, was known for his intensity, and his fanbase was as devoted as they came. You weren’t sure how this would go.

As you approached the entrance, you took a deep breath and opened the door to see him standing there, arms crossed, eyes locked on you the moment you entered.

“Hey,” you greeted, flashing a small smile. “[Hero Name]. But you probably know that already.”

Bakugou looked at you, sizing you up as if trying to assess just what kind of person his PR had paired him with. “Yeah, I know. Dynamight,” he said bluntly.

The initial interaction was stiff, almost forced. After all, you were both here because someone else thought it would be a good idea, not because you had a real connection.

However, as the training session progressed, things began to change. Your quirks were oddly complementary. Bakugou’s explosive power matched well with your abilities. You found yourself enjoying the way you could support each other’s moves, almost instinctively.

Bakugou, too, seemed to loosen up slightly, impressed by your control over your unique quirk.

“Not bad,” he admitted, a rare compliment slipping out as you finished a drill.

“Coming from you, that’s high praise,” you replied with a smirk, enjoying the way his eyebrow twitched.

He scoffed, but you could tell he was secretly amused. Maybe this team-up wouldn’t be so bad.

Over the next few weeks, you and Dynamight were scheduled for more and more joint missions, and as you spent more time together, the initial awkwardness started to melt away. Bakugou’s abrasive demeanor softened, though only slightly, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. Sure, he could be intense, but there was something refreshing about his straightforwardness.

As you both walked down a dimly lit street after a particularly grueling mission, you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“So, how does it feel to be in the tabloids with a new ‘partner’?” you asked, waggling your eyebrows.

He groaned. “Don’t even get me started. All these idiots are so focused on ‘shipping’ they forget I’m here to do my job.”

“But hey, it’s not all bad,” you replied, smirking. “We make a pretty good team.”

He stopped, glancing over at you. “Yeah… you’re alright,” he said, with a small shrug. Coming from Bakugou, you knew that was a lot.

As time went on, your friendship deepened, slowly shifting into something more. You didn’t talk about it, but there were lingering glances, casual touches, and inside jokes. You were drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated, and you could sense he felt the same.

One evening, after another mission, you found yourselves alone in his apartment. You were both exhausted, but there was a comfortable tension hanging in the air. You leaned against the counter, watching him as he grabbed water for you both.

“Y’know,” you said, your voice softer than usual, “I didn’t think I’d actually end up liking you."

He rolled his eyes, handing you a water bottle. “You’re not exactly a walk in the park either, you know that?”

You laughed, shaking your head, but before you knew it, he was standing closer, his gaze intense.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, the realization that you’d just used his first name hitting you both.

And then, he kissed you.

The kiss was intense, filled with unspoken feelings that had built up over weeks. It was a release of all the tension, the anticipation, and the undeniable connection that had grown between you.

When you finally pulled back, you were both a bit breathless, staring at each other in shock and awe.

“Guess the fans were right,” you murmured, smiling.

Bakugou scoffed, though there was a softness in his eyes. “Idiots got lucky,” he muttered, his fingers gently grazing your cheek.

Despite your best efforts to keep things quiet, the media eventually caught on to your relationship. You’d been careful, but somehow, a photographer managed to capture a shot of the two of you sharing a kiss after a mission. The photo spread like wildfire, turning into a front-page scandal within hours.

At first, the agency was nervous. Relationships between pro heroes were a delicate subject, and the media frenzy wasn’t helping.

But Bakugou was unbothered, almost amused by the whole thing. “Let them talk,” he said dismissively, his arm draped around your shoulders as you both watched the news from his apartment.

You laughed, leaning into him. “Guess there’s no point in hiding it anymore, huh?”

“Damn right,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The public’s reaction was mixed. Some fans were thrilled that their “ship” had sailed, while others expressed shock and disbelief. But for you and Bakugou, the opinions of strangers didn’t matter. You were happy, and that was enough.

As the initial frenzy died down, your relationship became more accepted, and you and Bakugou continued to fight side by side, a true power couple in the pro hero world. You balanced each other perfectly, your quirks complementing each other in ways you’d never imagined.

One evening, as you both sat on the roof of his building, watching the city lights, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn your life had taken.

“Did you ever think it’d turn out like this?” you asked, glancing over at him.

He shook his head, a rare, genuine smile crossing his face. “Nah. But I wouldn’t change it.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling at peace.

[juicefield]

Meyp Skxawng Neteyam X Avatar!Reader: Part 1

A/N: I included the epilogue in this post so I could just delete the last post. Neteyam is 20 in this and there will be no NSFW content in this fic. It is not set in the far future as I reference bits of culture from the 2000s (mostly because this fic is essentially about culture, Na'vi and human and how they clash with each other and unfortunately I don't know about human culture in 2170 so I just used stuff from our time). Also this is set in high camp. I love the Metkayina, but I've always loved the forests of Pandora since I was young.

Although the writing in this fanfiction is my own, I do not claim any ownership of Avatar, Avatar: The Way of Water, or any of the subsequent medias. All rights go to James Cameron and the producers.

You can find the other parts here:

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Synopsis: Today is your twentieth birthday on Pandora. You look back on your life in reflection as you think about the future and your place on her.

Neteyam X Fem!Avatar!Reader 6.6k 1st person POV

The Na'vi say that every person is born twice. The second time is when you earn your place among The People... forever.

A tired yet youthful Jake Sully, now known as Jake Tsyeyk te Suli  or the mighty Toruk Makto, droned on from the blue tinted computer screen staring back at me. Once again, I found myself watching the videos he left behind. I know I shouldn't torture myself, that this fantasy I've had since I was a child was nothing but that... just a fantasy. I could never get the second chance he got all those years ago. I’ve spent years living vicariously through him and his video logs; imagining that I had become one with The People like him. I knew it was childish, but that certainly didn't stop me from dreaming about it. 

The more I watched his videos, and Grace's videos, the more I longed to see this world that I find myself stuck in. That mystical magical world that was closed off from me, just outside, so close yet so far. However, I couldn't be like Spider, my strange adopted "semi-sibling" and run around like a chicken with its head cut off (this was a line straight from Norm, as I have never even eaten chicken let alone seen one), awkward and slow next to the lithe natives. I fiddled with a small puzzle Norm had brought from the old world as I listened to Jake's voice. It was a rare treat and one of the things I had as a child that was almost like a toy. Of course at this point I knew how to solve it faster than I could blink practically. As I sit there and continuously slide the locking mechanism in and out I become briefly distracted from the monitor as I feel the ridges of the plastic puzzle. It felt weird to have the thought that Spider was my brother. He certainly never acted like he cared about me much, always opting to hang with the Sullys. However, I know that he feels a certain camaraderie with me due to our similar afflictions. The affliction in question being our shared blood, vrrtep reypay, or "demom blood" flows through both of us. Unlike Spider, however, there was something that afflicted me and me alone in this new world.

The sickness. Norm and Max weren’t sure what it was, but they knew for certain it was some sort of genetic thing. Some thing that my parents had carried in both of them. "Thing". It was easier to call it a thing, easier for me to compartmentalize that way. Easier to tuck away the pain and suffering in a neat corner of my mind. It affected me in different ways. From my joints to my stomach to my legs, my body was simply weak. Back when I was willing to try reaching out to the other children, Na'vi children, I would always get made fun of for being a weak human, so once my legs started to give out on me at the age of 8 I officially swore off having "friends".

"Meyp skxawng."  A little girl muttered under her breath after my legs gave out while splashing in a pool in the cave system. Her name was Txeyu. She was one of the Na'vi that lived the closest to the labs in the back of the cave system, also about one of three friends that I had besides Norm and Max. She was one of the only Na'vi children that would hang around me, but as my legs worsened I could feel her getting agitated everytime I couldn’t keep up as we played. 

"Sorry,"  The apology that exited my mouth was out before I could even stop to think what I actually did wrong. Pulling myself up from the awkward position I was in after I had slipped and fallen to the floor I continued. "Sometimes my legs don't work so well… I mean, even for a human." The last word came out strained like if I said it loudly then everyone would suddenly realize I was an alien and demand to throw me out of camp. I knew of course that humans had the protection of Jake Sully. Realistically that could never happen, but many of the Na'vi were not accepting of our place in the clan. It had been long ago that I learned shame for being human but I remember this memory as the time I learned to be ashamed of being disabled. When I looked up there was this distinct look on the Na'vi's face. A strange mix of pity and disgust that left a pit in my stomach. The slope of her eyes and the curl of her lip are often in my dreams, haunting me. I will never forget them from that day. With tears stinging my eyes I politely excused myself and threw myself into Norm’s arms as soon as I found him. Even though I hadn't known what the words at the time meant I knew exactly what her face had meant. I was a blubbering mess and after that I wasn't allowed to play with Txeyu (or at least Norm had told me that, for my peace of mind so I wouldn’t seek her out) and I swore that I didn't need friends. 

To be fair to Txeyu, I was a weak moron. Confirmed by not only my weak body, but also my inability to stop watching the videos that the two most revered sky people had left behind. Grace was my source of entertainment since I was a child because  the humans were not concerned with bringing old world media with them to Pandora. Mostly because coming to Pandora they had not thought of babies being born in the new world, had not thought of the culture left behind. Had not thought of the difficulty these children would have with their identity, knowing almost nothing of the new world or the old. Many people had brought things with them but most cultural items had been taken by the sky people when they left. And yes, Norm and Max told me all about Earth and about movies and music and art along with the small amount of stuff they could recover from the old lab but it was nothing, nothing, compared to the real thing. To have a sense of community with people who have shared experiences, to have people that you belong to. The very thing that makes people human, or maybe not human, but the thing that is important to all life that holds empathy. 

Empathy. That, I thought, was the similarity humans had with the Na'vi. They both had empathy. What separated them, however, was more important... greed, yes, the humans were greedy despite their sympathy. I had learned as a girl that the two were not exclusive. I knew it was true in the way I wished to be Jake, in the way I longed for a world I didn't belong to. Knew that even I, a human that can hardly be called human, is not spared from this defining characteristic of greed. Unfortunately I would never get a second chance, another body, like Jake did.

I accepted this fact when I was a mere twelve years old, a particularly hard year for me. I started my menstruation cycle with only Norm and Max to comfort me. There were other women at the base, but none close enough to me for me to celebrate in the joy of womanhood. I would have turned to Kiri, but luckily for her she doesn’t have an aunt flow, like all Na'vi. What a lucky bitch. I had started bleeding and had been in the bathroom panic stricken because my first thought was that the sickness was getting worse, that the pain I felt was finally going to bleed me out and kill me. As I silently wept I accidentally knocked over the trash bin in my room. Norm had come to the door, knocking softly thrice he announced himself.

"Hey... you good in there? You've been in there a while and I heard something fall." Hot tears were stinging my eyes and I was breathing heavily, like there was a giant boulder on my chest. Hey, maybe this was one of those panic attacks I read about in the encyclopedias of Medicine and Psychology I had read? I had always been a curious child, learning as much as I could to stave off boredom. There had been a few precious fiction books left behind by the scientists before I. Please dear Eywa (I had felt embarrassed at the time to ask Eywa for help), please help me remember that boring book I prayed all while frantically trying to calm down enough for the memory to surface. Breathe. I had to breathe in and out. I've got this, I mean I'm totally dying, but I've definitely got a handle on this. Compartmentalize. Yes, I distinctly remember the book talking about breathing and slow breaths from the diaphragm, for sure, definitely... Just as I finally started to get a grip and calm down Norm knocked again.

"Come on, seriously you're freaking me out here." Well shit. I didn't get it together fast enough. I gathered myself as best I could, focusing on the cool steel below my fingertips.

"Norm, I think I might be dying." I said trying to project my tired and scared voice through the bathroom door. 

"WHAT? OH MY GOD. Shit... shit! What's wrong? What do you mean? Let me in. Please, open the door." I could hear the panic laced in his voice. The handle on the door rattled as Norm tried to enter the bathroom. 

"Stop!" I commanded "Hold on. I'm-I'm bleeding."

"Oh sweet Jesus open the door." Norm said and the door handle rattled so hard that I thought the lanky scientist might break it.

"It's... coming from down there. Don't come in, it's embarrassing!" I lamented. The quiver in my voice made Norm immediately understand.

"Oh... sweetheart that's not... um, you're, uh, not going to die. Just... clean yourself up in the bath. I'll get you clothes and then me and Max need to have a talk with you." I tilted my head at that, a million questions running through my mind. Did he know what was going on? Why did he seem so relieved? This was horrible! But, I did as was told and waited outside, fidgeting nervously.

And that my friends, is the story of my very first lesson from Norm and Max about the wonders of womanhood. Oh what a joy it was. Of course, they had been severely awkward with it. Max was slightly better, mostly because he had had sisters back on Earth so he actually knew how to use a pad. Ah pads, I think wistfully. I remember them. They were absolutely wonderful. Of course they all ran out by the time I was fifteen. Nowadays I use reusable cotton pads. Not bad, but they were a pain in the ass to make and I always seemed to lose them in the wash. Luckily, Norm is a softie, so I often convince him to help me make them with the promise of my special pancakes made from wheat bread ration. Of course, I'd always been able to get Norm to practically do anything. Partly because of my sickness and the fact that I was his little girl helped. All I had to do was say I was having a bad day and give him the eyes and bingo, my lovely full day of pad making was now cut in half. Success! Max, however, is not as easily swayed; he had always been the more logical and sensible one. I later asked them why they hadn't warned me in advance about periods. I remember laughing when Norm bashfully rubbed his neck and admitted that they simply hadn't thought about it before now.

That was how it has always been. Max was the voice of reason, the one who reminds me to eat when I need to and reminds Norm that I am stronger than I look. I appreciate him more than I even thought possible. Norm was more of the doting type, almost motherly in his spoiling of me. Always letting me a little further, a little longer than necessary in the few times that I was able to take an oxygen mask and run around by the cave as a young kid. Between the two of them I was in good hands. My mother wouldn't have left me with them when she died if they weren't worthy. And so I became their daughter. I don't call either of them dad or father or anything like that but I know that they’re my parents. I love them so, so dearly. Even when Norm ate the last chocolate bar when I was eight. Incidentally this was not long after the Txeyu situation, eight was a hard year too! A portal to hell opened in the lab that day; my sobbing was louder than the banshees on the Hallelujah mountains.

I sigh and sit the puzzle down on my desk. This was my reality lately. All I seemed to be able to do was think about the past. Perhaps because I finally realized I have no future here. There was nothing for me here, nothing except Max and Norm (and Jake, I suppose, but his visits were few and far between and he always seemed a little uncomfortable around me). When they're gone I would have nothing, be nothing. I mean sure I had friends, two to be exact, and one very annoying close acquaintance. Kiri and Tuk were the former and Lo'ak was the latter. He had recently been demoted from best friend status after breaking one of my only CDs (of course jazz CDs were some of the only music to be left behind when everyone left), even after I had told him to be careful with it when putting it in the player. 

The Suli children were the only link I had to the outside world at this point. They had become my friends purely by accident. It happened when Jake was coming to visit Norm and Max to discuss a raid. Lo'ak and Kiri had followed him, no doubt a scheme cooked up by Lo'ak and of course Kiri went along with it. They had been curious where their father ran off to every few weeks despite their mother looking irritated every time he left, promising her that it wouldn’t be long and that he'd be home before dinner. Neteyam had tried to stop them but they lost him by the retired elders hut, slipping away when he wasn't paying them express attention and was answering a question about his training posed by a well-respected elder.

On that fateful day I had actually been outside the caves for once, with Norm watching me from afar to make sure my mask was on and I was walking well enough on my own. I remember looking up at Jake, smiling, and saying hello to the friendly giant (hey, he was friendly to me). He greeted me in english then headed for the door. Behind the bushes near the cave entrance were two meddlesome ten year olds with their jaws practically on the floor. They had never seen a sky person that was so small except Spider, they guessed I must be a child too!

"Lo'ak look! I didn't know that any sky people children live here besides Spider." Kiri said, pointing to my small figure that was about fifteen meters away from them, oblivious to the eyes watching me as I picked a small bouquet of wild flowers to put in my room. 

"Yeah. But, what the hell is wrong with her legs??" Lo'ak said loudly before Kiri elbowed him in the gut. I had heard his voice that time, strange and in a language I didn't understand yet so I stood quickly as panic set in. 

"Hello? Who is there? Jake Sully is here, so you can't hurt me! He's Toruk Makto and he'll protect me!" I called out to them as the flower I was holding fell down at my side. Kiri and Lo'ak simply looked at each other, astonished that I was speaking at all, but especially since I knew their father’s title.

"Hello." I heard a deeply accented voice respond back to me in english. My eyebrows shot up when I heard it. I knew right away that it was coming from a Na'vi child. The accent was unmistakably inhuman. Not to say it was bad sounding, in fact I had always found the native accent to be beautiful. It was just different than the way humans spoke.

"Um.... who are you? Can you come out now? You're scaring me." I said to the bush that was now in front of me. I made my way over to them while they argued about whether it was a good idea to come out or not. I watched as a blue head popped out from behind the bush. I couldn't help the gasp that came out of my mouth at the sight of a little boy around my age.

"I am Kiri and this is Lo'ak." Kiri responded to me as she came fully out of the bush from behind Lo’ak, a hand wrapped around Lo'ak's forearm pulling him along. "Jake Suli is our father." My eyes widened in surprise as I suddenly felt embarrassed to have used Jake as a threat. I made my way over to them slowly, wincing when my ankle twisted slightly to the right. 

"Oh... uh-hi. My name is (Y/N). Mr. Sully told me about you... I met Kiri before but we were both babies, right after she came out of Grace… so I don't remember, I'm sorry!" I was completely unsure of what to say. Goddamnit why did I have to mention Grace? The only company I ever kept were Norm and Max with the occasional visit from the other sky people and the scarily limited friends I had as a toddler and young child. I knew, of course, through Grace's videos and Norms education of the Na'vi (specifically the Omaticayans) to be respectful in my language and not to use figures of speech. 

"The Na'vi have an extraordinary understanding of the English language already. They learn faster than my team can seem to teach them. Fortunately for them, our pronunciation is a lot less important than their language. Unfortunately for us that means a lot more of them understand us then the other way around. The only way to talk in secret around them is to use figures of speech. Unfortunately they may find this rather offensive if they call you out on it, especially when you accidentally call one of the clans best a brown noser. God, I had a hell of a time explaining that one to them."  I remember that video log with great fondness. I had only watched it a week prior for the first time after Norm finally gave approval for me to watch some of the video logs that were more personal to Grace, rather than the usual educational ones (also the ones in which she was drunk). The new blue people in front of me just stared at me with wide eyes. They could not believe I was being so bold for such a tiny thing. Finally the girl shifted and flicked her brother with her tail, breaking him out of the trance he was in. 

"Well... do you wanna play with us?" Was the only thing Lo'ak could think of to say. I shifted nervously. I hadn't played with any Na’vi since the incident with Txeyu. As I picked nervously at the dirt under my nails I let out a short sigh.

"I'm not allowed to play with you guys I think?" It came out as more of a question than a statement. These were Jake's kids, so maybe Norm would be fine with it? Plus, I noticed as they both deflated and started fidgeting with their jewelry and hair that they have hands like Norms avatar body, so that means they're like me! They also have demon blood, so they could understand me, maybe. Just as they turned around to leave after waving goodbye I called out to them. 

"Actually, I think Max and Norm would be okay. If it's Jake's kids. He's a good guy so you guys must be too!" I cringe remembering my naivety. Luckily I was correct, they were "good guys"... and we have been good friends for years now… except when they break my things! I sighed and walked over to the mangled remains of my precious jazz CD. I had already tried gluing the pieces back together. CDs really didn't work that way though, so I tried recording myself singing the songs but I could never sing the way the woman on the CD did so eventually I just gave up. Luckily this gave me the genius idea to record all the remaining CDs I had in case another unfortunate alien boy decided to jam a damn disk into the computer halfway before closing it and breaking it in half!

As I flopped down onto the chair beside my desk I played Beethoven's String Quartet no. 14, 1st Movement to try to quiet my mind. I know from Norm and Max that classical music was one of the least popular genres from Earth but I always had a fascination with it. Not that there was really a choice when I had 5 CDs to my name. Crap. 4 CDs to my name. Beethoven's greatest symphonies, Etta James's At Last (previously, Rest In Peace Etta), Metallica's Black album or 5th album (I wasn't as much of a fan now, but I had some really cathartic times with that album when I was an angsty 13 year old), a burned CD titled "2005 Car Mix" with a variety of pop songs, and a guided sleep meditation music CD (I had never gotten bored enough to actually sit down and attempt to meditate with it) were the musical companions in my life. 

The only exception were occasions when the clan had a large festival or feast and I could hear the sounds of the Omaticayans singing and chanting. Those were always my favorite nights. I would often sit and weave something while I listened to hundreds of voices commune with Eywa, to celebrate a new life or one just ending. That’s one of the only past times I have that I really enjoy. Sometimes I even hum along, pretending that I was a member of the clan. I could almost smell the earthen musk that always clung to every Na'vi. Like they were really one with the forest, as if they were born of the forest. They were so natural in it, just as natural as a fish in the water. As I hum I feel the tickle of a tail brushing against my back and the heat radiating from the thighs of the two Na'vi on either side of me. A brief peace floods into my body, relaxing my muscles one by one before I remember who I am and where I am. I remember again that I was born a human on Pandora, and the dream is broken. That fantasy is not me, no matter how much I wish it so. 

I should really stop torturing myself like this. The only thing fantasizing does is fester and ferment into anger. Anger at my mother, maybe? I mean she did pass on the thing to me. Maybe at Eywa? Do I even believe in Eywa? Sometimes I swear I feel her all around me, in the plants waving in the winds or the sounds of the cave. In the dripping water and wind rushing past the mouth of the cave, dancing through the hallelujah mountains. I hear her in the banshees shrill cries at dawn, and the thanators mighty roar at twilight. Do I even have the right to believe in her? To be angry at the hand dealt to me? By being born on Pandora, does that mean that Eywa is in control of my destiny like her Na'vi children? Am I one of her children?

I ponder this as I weave on the loom that Kiri gave to me last year for my nineteenth birthday. She brings me plenty of string and teaches me new techniques every moon cycle on our ritual ‘girls night’. Although honestly she might get in trouble if anyone finds out about that. A lot of Na'vi wouldn't appreciate a sky person knowing cultural weaving techniques that have been passed down for generations through the Omaticayans: who are known as great craftsmen. My girl Kiri is a total badass though, so she still teaches me anyway. 

Kiri, Tuk, Lo'ak are the only reasons I haven't gone verifiably insane yet as I waste away on this planet. As much as I love Max and Norm, their company doesn't ever change much. There's never anything new going on with human settlement. Always the same issues that we discuss over dry, flavorless ration food. The problems of growing food in the Pandoran soil, which may be lush and fertile for the home plant species, but is absolutely terrible for Earth plants. Always some new trouble that Spider had gotten into with Lo’ak. We are always having trouble with having enough batteries for the tanks to furnish all the humans with oxygen. Yet another reason why I don't go outside. I'm a waste of resources and while Max and Norm can't admit that, I can. I know I'm useless, honestly I wish that I could be of help in even the science realm but hello, there's no school on Pandora and both Max and Norm are horrible teachers. I mean I'm smart but I cannot figure out fucking geometry on my own?! Plus the other humans didn't leave behind any lesson plans for children when they left so I'm pretty much S.O.L. 

I’m pulling a soft blue, almost feathery string through another row on the loom when I hear Max and Norm talking outside of my room in the main lab. I strain my ears but I cannot make much sense of the words I can hear.

"Jake doesn't know.... yeah... ready... think... okay jeez, Max." Eh, nothing to really worry about, I decide. Probably the same old shit in a different toilet. I tune out their talking and focus on the crescendo of one of Mozart's greatest hits before almost dropping the loom when I hear a sharp knock on the door. I get up and turn to press the pause button on the CD player before opening the door. Standing there is a very excited looking Max and a very nervous looking Norm. 

"Oh my God, what is it this time?" I said recollecting a time when I had opened the very same door to them looking very similar to this moment and they had practically accused me of having a crush on Lo'ak. As if! I would never have a crush on Lo'ak. He's like an annoying little brother to me and he's always hiding my stuff just to irritate me or pulling a single hair out one at a time till I yell at him to stop. But I think that may be the reason that we get along so well, he doesn’t see me as different like everyone else does. He has always teased and roughhoused with me like he would Kiri or Spider, albeit a bit gentler.

"Hey kiddo, we just wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday. We know you're finally 20! You're a grown woman now..." Norm trailed off looking wistful. Max took up after Norm, who was reminiscing like a parent would on their child’s birthday. 

"And we have something to show you! Something we have been working on for a long time now." He threw an arm around Norm to emphasize the we.

"Did you get the Rewon Tanhì that I asked for?" I asked excitedly. I had been asking them to find me a morning star flower on their expeditions and missions since I heard of them a few months ago. Kiri told me they glow in the dark even after being cut from the bush, an indigo bioluminescent glow that never fades. They're fairly rare so Max said they would keep an eye out but to not count on them finding one. I planned on an open air terrarium to use as a night light if they ever happened upon one while they were out doing research. I just wanted to bring a little of Pandora's beautiful bioluminescent night flora to me since I can’t go outside to see them myself.

"It's something a bit more exciting than that. Come on, follow us, kiddo." Max said before grabbing my wrist and pulling me forward toward the back of the lab. He seemed a little too excited and I almost tripped forward with the force of his pulling. I laughed and told him to slow down a little bit. 

"Sorry, it's just been really difficult to keep this under wraps. You have no idea how many times I almost told you. Honestly, I'm surprised Norm hasn't." Max said, chuckling as Norm exclaimed an indignant "Hey!" while shaking his head fondly.

We reached the back door of the lab that went to the actual laboratory, of which I am typically not allowed into. I'm generally very clumsy because of my issues and Max is always doing some sort of dangerous chemistry experiment that would cause some serious damage if I knocked it over. Maybe even an explosion if the right compounds are left laying around. While that might bring me some much needed excitement to my life, I still opt to just leave the lab alone. 

"It's in the chem lab?" I asked, entirely confused as to what I could possibly want to see in there. It was the most boring room in the whole building.

"Yes. And you need to close your eyes. I want it to be a complete surprise." Norm said, looking over at Max while wiggling his eyebrows like a total goof.

"Okaaaay...." I said, finding their strange demeanor highly suspicious. I closed my eyes and felt Max's large hand on my shoulder, guiding me. I could feel the warmth of it seeping into my skin as Norm, presumably, opened the door to the chem lab. The shrill shriek of ungreased steel grinding on steel was heard in the chem lab and the rustle of thick canvas-like fabric made me shift my weight to my other foot anxiously.

"Okay... come on in guys." Norm says as Max guides me in the room, making sure I don't trip as I step over the raised door frame. I was taken about 10 feet into the lab before Norm told me I could open my eyes. I blinked slowly as my eyes adjusted to the sterile white lab lights. I could only cock an eyebrow, unimpressed as my eyes land on what looks like a large tube covered in a large brown tarp of some sort. The tube had to be at least ten feet long. I looked over at Norm expectantly and a flash of recognition came on his face as he stumbled forward to pull off the tarp.

"Sorry..." he mumbled while lifting the heavy fabric off the large tube. Inside the tube is a female Na'vi. No actually, I count 5 fingers, so it’s an avatar. She was jerking and I could see her nose twitch, like she had smelled the acrid dung of a viperwolf. I realized it bared a strong resemblance to my own as I reached out to touch the glass. When I did she curled forward slightly toward my touch, almost as if she was reaching out to me as well. As she stretched out of the fetal position I saw her whole face and my world stopped. 

"No... there's no way. You guys said there was no way." I whispered looking over at Max and Norm. I couldn't allow myself to believe it until they told me through their own mouths. I had gotten my hopes crushed too many times as a child to allow myself to believe this so easily.

"Well, remember when Grace's Avatar started deteriorating when you were thirteen? And then when you were fourteen we laid her to rest? Well using her chamber and some supplies we found at an abandoned outpost we were actually able to incubate an avatar for you. That's you sweetheart." Norm said, grinning at me and gesturing to the body. 

I feel my knees tremble and buckle as a litany of emotions surges through me, falling forward slightly before Max caught me and helped me up. All I could do was bury my head in his shoulder and cry. These men, who loved me and raised me, have given me the gift of life again. I couldn't breathe so I just squeezed him and shook as the emotions and fears flew through me. I could vaguely register Norm coming up behind me to hug both of us. After a good cathartic cry we all released each other from our group hug. 

"I... I don't know how... I can't... thank you, both of you." Was all I could manage to get out as my voice trembled with emotion. Hesitantly I walked over to the avatar. "She's... beautiful." I reached out to touch the warm glass, tracing my fingers over her face. Well, I guess my face? I guess it will feel more like my face after the consciousness transfer. Her blue skin looks so radiant and soft. Unlike the Na'vi I know she looks so untouched. Almost like a child. She is free of the scarring that comes with growing up in the dangerous Pandoran forests. I admire the markings on her face, taking in all the details and tanhì, or bioluminescent freckles that spray across her face and body. Her hair floats in the blue solution cascading in waves down the gentle slope of her back all the way to her tail.

"We know. Trust me, we know how much you need this. How much you've needed this since you were a kid... and yes she really is beautiful." Norm compliments, squeezing my shoulder. 

"Now, I have to say this before you get your hopes up. We have great hope that the consciousness transfer will work, but kiddo, there's a small possibility that it might not and I need to prepare you for that." Max says solemnly from my right side. That was just like him, always ruining a sentimental moment with his warnings. 

"I know, Max. But still, the fact that you wasted all these resources on me means a lot." I said, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"It's not a waste. Don't… don’t say that, (Y/N). We would both do anything to make you happy." Max replies, looking over at Norm as he nods to me.

"So when can I go in?" I said as I finally let the excitement fill me. It was so strong that my stomach feels queasy; to the point that I feel I might throw up my wheat ration pancakes. 

"Well," Norm piped up, "we were thinking about doing a test run tomorrow. Kiri and Lo'ak are supposed to come anyway for movie night. We thought you'd like to surprise them." I nodded excitedly while smiling at them. I truly loved these two men. They were the closest things I had to parents and I'm so grateful that mom left me in their care. My chest feels so warm as I give both of them another short hug that I think it might explode out of me in a spray of rainbows and sugar. Honestly, all this lovey dovey shit was getting sickening. 

"Now let's go have some birthday food." Norm suggests while he unfolds the tarp to cover it up again. We went and ate our traditional birthday barbecue (not really because it's not cooked on a grill but we have lots of blow torches for sciencey reasons that we use to cook it). It's a decadent meal that could only be spared a few times a year, and one of my absolute favorites. After that they sang me Happy Birthday, and all-mighty Eywa was it super off-key. Soon after that I bid them a goodnight so that I can go to bed early so tomorrow will come a little faster. As I lie in bed all I can think of is tomorrow morning and the possibility of being unable to establish a neural link. 

Due to my anxiety-induced insomnia morning approaches slower than I thought physically possible. Did the suns somehow get delayed rising? Because I swear I've been in bed for two days tossing and turning. Just as I'm about to flip my pillow to the cool side for the fortieth time I hear a gentle knock on my door. 

"Hey, kiddo, it's time to get up. Figured you wouldn't mind an early start today." Max called through the door from the other side. Exhausted, I roll over and heave myself off the bed to get dressed. It takes me a little more time than usual but I finally put on some clothes and bumble out of my bedroom door. 

"Wow. So, no sleep huh?" Norm teases as he looks up from cooking breakfast. 

"Yeah, no. Too excited." I respond, rolling my eyes at him dramatically. I keep glancing at the chem lab door while I impatiently watch him cook and Max notices.

"You have to eat first. It's not ideal that you're tired for your first transfer but it would honestly be way worse if you were hungry too. So. Eat." Max demands pointedly. I sigh as Norm puts a plate down in front of me. I feel my skin buzzing while I eat the breakfast I have thousands of times faster than I ever have before. I almost choke shoveling down the eggs and veggies.

"Hey slow down. Can't have you dying on us before you can actually try." Max says jokingly. Norm pushes him with his arm. 

"Max, don't say that. That's not funny." Norm huffs, giving Max the stink eye. 

"Yeah, yeah." Max replies and I drift away from their bickering as I wait for them to finish breakfast. After we all finish Max goes through a few rules for the transfer and Norm helps me into one of the weird jelly beds used for transfers. He places the wire caging around me and turns away before I grab his shirt and tug on it through the holes of the cage.

"Norm.. Max... I'm scared." I admit.

"I know. But, you have to be brave. I know you can do it." Max said and Norm added a "Yeah, me too." I released his shirt slowly and sighed.

"I know... okay I'm ready." I say and try to relax. As I hear Max flip a few switches and Norm closes the lid I could cuss myself out. Why didn't I try that meditation CD last night?! I think as I try to steady my breathing like Max told me to. As I breathe in I see the flashes of light from the machine. Okay, ‘breathe and count backwards from 20 if you need help’ is what Max advised at breakfast.

In. Twenty.

Out. Nineteen.

In. Eighteen.

Out. Seventeen.

In. Sixteen.

Out. Fifteen.

In. Fourteen.

Just as I am about to call out to Max that it's not working I completely black out. I'm not exactly sure how to describe the experience of a consciousness transfer, how it feels or looks. I think that it feels like dying in a way. It feels like a complete separation from your body, like you are floating out of it, then next thing you know you are blinking at a blinding light ahead of you.

If you have any suggestions or feedback please comment down below or message me! This is my first fanfic in a while, so please excuse my poor grammar. And thank you for reading! Neteyam and the reader will be meeting next chapter.

@skeletondeerart