#the story never developed sky enough to make her death impactful

[lemongogo]

viktor prev 🤖

[rokutouxei]

like flashes of starlight

genshin impact | G | 4331 | ao3 link in bio xiao / aether

summary: Xiao’s entire existence is rooted in Liyue, all thousands of years of his life, and when he begins to develop a fondness for a traveler whose journey takes him farther than he can ever imagine, he finds himself seeing his much smaller world, its time and space, a little differently.

--

Liyue Harbor will always be in a state of flux—always changing, always inviting the newness of the world into its docks. History will paint it in vibrant colors, its most beautiful traditions alongside the innovations of ever-changing cultures. But to Xiao, Liyue will always be the same.

His Liyue. His to protect. Rex Lapis’ Liyue.

The fittings may change, but the core is the same.

When he’d first met the traveler, a thought crossed his mind that slowly embedded itself deep into his consciousness. Xiao knew with one glance that Aether was not of Teyvat. The way he held himself; the way he wielded his elemental powers; the mere energy of him was not human, or demon, for that matter. Aether felt like something different, like the night sky, broad and all-encompassing to those on the ground.

Had Xiao’s apprehension not superseded his curiosity, he would have asked: what does Liyue look like, to an outsider like you?

As a fellow outsider, do you see it as I do?

-

Rex Lapis’ decree is simple. Protect Liyue. Vanquish demons. Restore order through slaughter. Purge evil through battle. Nothing more, nothing less. The five yakshas' existence, purpose, and meaning all lie within that framework of being the weaponry by which Liyue is guaranteed safety.

As the last remaining of the five, despite being also assisted by the many remaining adepti, Xiao holds his mission close to his heart.

When the threat of Osial befalls Liyue, both the mortal millelith and Qixing, and the mighty, illuminated adepti come to the rescue. It is not easy to put aside their differences, but in the end they come together to fight for their nation, standing on top of the Jade Chamber, overlooking the monstrous water dragon haunting them all from the past. All are willing to fight until their deaths. But there is another one, standing on the battlefield, that does not need to be there—and yet is there—and does not back down despite every opportunity he gets.

Aether.

Aether is not of Liyue. Aether doesn’t even look like he’s from anywhere in Teyvat, for that matter, the true fittings of an actual wanderer, as if he were from an entirely different world of his own. And yet he is here. Bruised and still injured from a previous battle—he had heard the floating girl that they had come from the Golden House, and a battle with a Fatui Harbinger had led to the summoning of Osial—Aether still stands with the rest of them, ignoring any weariness from previous battles.

“What can I do?” he offers, and the adepti share a look at each other as if gauging the situation. They know. It is not exactly easy to hide that Aether is not like other travelers, other adventurers. They lend him their power. Slowly, gauging how much he can handle of their energies. They convene on the ballista, fighting Fatui and avoiding the strikes of the fallen god, water blasting them painfully.

At some point during the battle, Aether and Xiao meet back-to-back as they dodge from an attack. The former glances at the adeptus with an unreadable smile.

Xiao has long been used to being the strongest one on the battlefield, the one most proficient at killing. But with Aether here by his side—blocking and returning a strike, a Fatui agent dropping to the ground—there is a feeling that fills him about having someone near his equal, if not even stronger, fight with him.

Excitement? Thrill?

The tiniest bit of lax, like he would be safe with him?

So when the ballista cracks open with a particularly hard strike, and Aether has no choice but to obey gravity, Xiao does not fight the instinct to leap between debris to catch him before he lands on the ground.

Only a quiet tsk comes out of him once Aether is safely in his arms, to which the other’s gasp of surprise melts into a brief, sheepish grin.

He'd imagined the traveler would ease his murderous workload—not add to it. And right now, Liyue might be lucky to have a willing outsider to help them out in such a time of crisis, but like this… Xiao wonders if the nation will be any safer with a savior as reckless as him.

-

Aether calls it an offering out of jest. Xiao seems exasperated every time, but he does not reject the plate of almond tofu that gets offered to him anyway. Besides, it tastes different when it’s the traveler that makes it.

It is unfair in a way that Xiao hears ahead if Aether might pass by the Wangshu Inn—related to commissions from Verr Goldet or Huai’an, or perhaps from a brief sighting of him from the mountains of Liyue. But he finds it no sort of nuisance, because that only gives him more time to prepare himself to meet the traveler.

The plates of almond tofu, like all offerings to archons and adepti, are made with a wish in mind. Like this, Aether subtly asks for a sliver of time, a moment with some company other than his floating companion. And the Xiao before Osial, before saving Liyue, well, he would have turned him down, would have thanked him for the plate and then disappeared into the night, but—

Here, he does not.

Instead, he guides Aether up to the rooftop of Wangshu Inn. Here, the history of Liyue unfolds behind Xiao’s eyes, a history he knows like the back of his hand. Jueyun Karst to the left. Dihua Marsh to the right. And should the night be quieter, and Xiao allows himself to stand on the lower floor, there are the broken ruins in Guili Plains, where the war he had fought still rings clear.

Wangshu Inn fills his mind deafeningly with memories, but when Aether is there, all goes quiet.

Sometimes, Aether talks to him. Speaks to him of developments in his journey, or about a notable yet stray monster that he had fought with. Other times, it is mundane stories of his adventuring with Paimon. But a lot of times, Xiao’s company seems to be enough, Aether looking out at the view with an indistinct expression on his face.

It is in moments like these that Xiao recognizes something in Aether that he’s only ever seen in a mirror.

A deep welling of sadness. One that has been sharpened and smoothened and shaped by time.

Is this why Aether smiles at him like he understands his loneliness?

“My sister,” he said once, voice nearly just a whisper, “I’ve never been without her this long.” And that was it. No other explanation. He does not expound on what it means. It feels too heavy to say anything more than that. So when Aether leans his head against his shoulder, awake but not quite in his head, Xiao lets him, letting his questions disappear in an exhaled breath.

Eventually, if the Archons allow them, Aether will know of his secrets in time. And Xiao will know of his secrets in time.

Right now, it does not feel like it is his to ask.

But he can stay, he can keep watch, so that he does.

-

It isn’t that Xiao does not understand what draws the citizens of Liyue—and other nations as well—to the yearly celebration of Lantern Rite, it’s just that such a loud and joyous eruption of fervor has always had a different connotation to him, the one who protects Liyue from the monsters hiding in their shadows.

While Aether explores the newly-decorated streets of Liyue with the enthusiasm of a young tourist, streamers of red and lanterns bathing the city in a beautiful gold, Xiao looks over the harbor feeling like a foreigner. He hates the Lantern Rite. And not only because of the general adepti dislike of mortal life. Of course, he will never be one to complain about his duty, but the pain… The Lantern Rite is flashy and joyful—exacerbating the usual haze of the residual hatred of defeated gods.

On those days, Xiao finds no rest.

(Not that any kind of rest has ever been truly restful, not in what seems like ten thousand years.)

No room to breathe. Only the briefest of moments between fighting tainted monsters that spawn from the ground, his spirit black and blue and choking from corruption.

His one fear is what would happen to Liyue if one day, he becomes unable to fight?

When the karma that weighs down on him becomes too much for him to bear?

He has to continue to believe in his battle, lest he forgets it.

He sees the lanterns and chants to himself, like forcing himself to believe it:

It is worth it.

A camp of hilichurls reek blackness, slowly creeping into the territory of Wangshu Inn. There are innocent people there. As silently as possible, as to not draw any more attention, he quickly clears them, granting no mercy. Their anger dissipates from their bodies and sinks into his skin.

It is worth it.

Their eyes all black now, growling and hissing, a group of vengeful, corrupted treasure hoarder spirits track a caravan carrying stocks of food and materials on its way to Liyue Harbor. They promise sickness and death to whatever they touch. Before the driver and the millelith even notice him creeping by, the spirits are dealt with. When he breathes in, he feels them calling him unforgivable.

It is worth it.

He’s never been partial to crowded areas, not with his constitution being as it is. He’d rather be as far away from other people as possible, as to not bring any more danger than he already must. All of this human experience of the Lantern Rite—peeking in between stalls, checking wares, tasting the festival food, creating lanterns—are for individuals like the traveler.

There is evil out there to be cleansed, he does not have time for “merriment.”

Which is why he does not understand why Aether does not understand.

Why they insist to “bring the Lantern Rite to him”, serve him food that reminds him of sweet, sweet dreams. What they get out of dragging him all the way to the outskirts of Liyue Harbor, if only to overlook the Mingxiao lantern, a quiet reminder of a battle fought what feels like eons ago. The closer they get to the festivities, the more Xiao feels out of place, the more he wants to run.

But he does not, because Aether is by his side. And on the walk to the harbor, he asks Xiao about the Lantern Rite, as if he hasn’t heard about it before. Forces Xiao to form the words with his own mouth. Filling in the blanks when he no longer knows what to say; when he’s forgotten what it truly is now, to the people he is protecting, what happens on the stage while he is on the sidelines.

That the Lantern Rite is a celebration of the new year, a thanksgiving for the previous year’s joys, and a prayer in anticipation for the coming year’s blessings. That the Lantern Rite is a commemoration of its long past, its commercial hub status getting adorned with its intricate history, traders and storytellers coming together to speak of old wars and adepti and long-fallen gods.

Lanterns as beacons in the night, guiding bygone heroes back to their homeland.

Aether could be fair and say it as well, but he gives Xiao a taste of his own medicine and lets it sink in on its own.

This celebration is for you too, Xiao.

And when the traveler is long gone, he and Paimon in the streets of Liyue no doubt looking in awe and wonder at the culmination of the Lantern Rite festivities, Xiao sits on top of the mountainside on the outskirts watching Liyue light up with brilliance.

And he tells himself:

It’s worth it.

This is worth it.

Perhaps on the next Lantern Rite, Xiao wouldn’t mind taking a walk in the city with him.

-

No one prays to adeptus Xiao.

Not in the same way other adepti have served the citizens of Liyue, at the very least. There are no prayers of good tidings and great harvest; no pilgrimages made up to abodes to seek wisdom.

This has never bothered Xiao in the slightest, not in his hundreds of years of service.

It is better off this way. He doesn’t have what other adepti like Mountain Shaper or Cloud Retainer can offer, no knowledge and insight that he finds worth sharing. Even half-adepti like Ganyu would perhaps have more to give to a longing pilgrim.

The only thing Xiao can give is his executioner’s blow.

That doesn’t stop him from hearing them cry. Wishes for death from the most desperate, like silent bells tolling in the dead of the night. Demands for violence that are whispered into the traitorous air, reaching his ears without fail. They don’t have to speak his name for him to feel their prayers.

They twist, turn, mutate into the most horrible of requests, the hatred and miasma from old fallen gods corrupting even the most innocent of pleas, Xiao’s spear materializing in his hand as if on instinct, to kill, to eradicate, to cleanse, to kill kill kill kill—

This is why Xiao does not like to sleep.

Slumber means dropping his guard, letting the swirl of the voices take over him until he’s at his most vulnerable. Sleep is only more cause for trouble.

The yaksha soon learns, however, that sometimes, it is worth the spare openness; his emotions remaining unsaid and yet seen, somehow, because Aether is Aether. Xiao wonders if, to the traveler, he is transparent. Aether does not even flinch when Xiao misses to restrain the growl that crawls up his throat in response to the clamor of pain. Instead, the golden-haired boy readjusts where he’s resting his head on Xiao’s shoulder, and reaches the small distance to place his hand on his. Rubs two, three gentle lines with his thumb on the back of the adeptus’ hand before he promptly falls back into slumber, a well-deserved afternoon nap after a long morning of commissions.

Xiao’s spear dematerializes without a sound.

And, equally quietly, loud in its silence, Xiao rests his head against Aether’s, and closes his eyes.

-

Anger is not an emotion Xiao would associate with Aether, and yet here they are, at the highest peak of Qingce Village in the late afternoon, after he had asked Xiao if he knew someplace quiet where they would not be interrupted.

“I don’t understand,” he says, sat down with his arms on his knees, his head on his arms, curled up in a ball. Xiao stands next to him with his arms crossed over his chest, listening patiently. “She didn’t want to. …I’d finally found her, and yet…” There lingers the quiet kind of anger, voice calm yet cold. On the inside, Aether is trembling with irritation and swaying with dismay. The backlash of betrayal. “We’ve been separated for more than five hundred years.”

I’ve never been without her this long.

For what seems like an eternity after that, Aether is quiet. Understandably so. This is none of Xiao’s concern, at least not in the sense where he would have the duty to step in, and yet the chaos of it is one he could only ascribe to be some sort of nightmare. Perhaps similar to the ones he gets often. He imagines Aether’s world turned cleanly upside down—those he had considered his greatest allies now potentially his worst enemies; and that he had thought was his enemy is under the hand of the one person he trusts the most in the entire universe.

It is heavy.

In the silence, Xiao recalls when there were still five yakshas around. How the mist of karmic pain that entangled around them for eons of dutiful slaughter had begun to choke them, turn them into twisted versions of themselves. He had seen each of them fall from being unable to tolerate the agony.

He worries the same might happen to Aether. He worries that when that happens, he will only be able to watch, the same way he did back then.

That he would have to be the last resort to slay him.

It is only when the sun is long out of the sky when Aether speaks again, his voice hoarse as if he’d been screaming, sobbing openly—“I want to go home.”

Xiao… places a comforting hand over Aether’s shoulder. He knows that Aether would have been ready to go in a heartbeat. That Teyvat and Khaenri’ah are nothing but a blip in the grand canvas of his journeys. And that, unlike him, all permanent miasma and choking with his feet sunk into the ground, unable to move, forever rooted in Teyvat, in Liyue, in his karma, Aether has and always will be like flashes of starlight, beautiful and faint and gone in a moment.

That he would be gone before Xiao learns how to miss him.

The only question the yaksha has is, when he finally goes, if he would take the rest of Xiao’s heart with him.

-

He would have pulled a classic “foolish mortals” had he known no better about Aether’s own expansive lifetime. Like this, then, perhaps they are the same in their foolishness. At least the citizens of Liyue know better than to acquaint with him, their guardian whose only strength is in pursuing death. They hear the mere word of him and they scutter in the opposite direction. It is better that way. It is safer that way.

But Aether does not, and now it is too late.

Xiao stays up late wondering how much of what has befallen Aether is from him. How much of it is his own karma, spread by their bond—whatever sense he may make out of it—and leading to the other’s pain? Aether complains of nightmares, of being in that domain and calling out for his sister, only to be pushed back, thrown off, like he had never been wanted in the first place.

So Xiao sets up for an apology for what he has done, the least he can do for spreading the black miasma that surrounds him into someone unrelated like Aether, but the latter only throws him a look of confusion that slowly evolves into a now-familiar, cryptic smile.

“Why would I want to sever it?” Aether asks, “I’ve never thought of that, Xiao.”

Xiao is quiet, too dumbfounded to say another word.

So instead, Aether puts his hands over his hips and says, “When I am in Liyue, you make me strong, Xiao, knowing you are out here protecting the land as well. I have no regrets about being close to you.”

Then stay, Xiao nearly says.

“What does Liyue look to you,” Xiao finally asks, though he intones it not quite like a question, like he’s still apprehensive about it. Aether turns back toward him, all gold eyes and hair, stars in the night sky.

“Beautiful,” the traveler answers immediately, as if he had long thought of it that way. “Rich in its history, steeped in tradition. And with guardians that look after it long after the people have forgotten them in time. It’s a stunning nation.”

Then stay.

“I know you keep yourself all wrapped in secrecy for the people, but—think about it, everything they do is in debt to you.”

“A debt that does not need to be repaid,” Xiao says. “I only follow through Rex Lapis’ original decree.”

“And that’s exactly why it’s so praiseworthy.” Aether nods to himself. “It’s a negative cycle where only you bear all the consequences. Had they known about you—should they still honor you the way they did then—they would see you as the hero that you are, Xiao. As the hero I see you as.”

Then stay.

Yanxiao avoids eye contact with Xiao but does not hesitate in giving Aether a judgmental look when he orders a plate of almond tofu for breakfast. What the cook doesn’t know is that it’s a reward for a restless night of nightmares, and an apology for a friendship that has always been wanted.

For the something more that cannot be claimed.

As they share the plate of sweet dreams, Xiao realizes, while looking at Aether enjoying a bite, that one day, like everything else that has happened in the past, he might be able to forgive himself—forgive Aether—for what they have done to each other. No grudge can last a thousand years. And should the thousand years pass—well, Aether would have been long gone, and Xiao knows better than to dig himself an even deeper grave for his sorrows.

Xiao has lived more than a thousand years in the loneliness, where there is only his spear and his darkness, but now, bathed in starlight, he feels lost and ill at ease. Perhaps, in a different life, things would not have ended this way, and there would have been compromises to be made, and there would have been promises to be kept. He considers the possibility of a universe where that occurs, if it would be better, if it would be worse.

The young-seeming adeptus searches his heart, only to find no answers.

 -

The prowess of that one mortal Beidou is not one that has escaped Xiao, and once Aether informs him that she would be allowing him safe passage into the closed country of Inazuma, Xiao is certain the traveler would be alright. It doesn’t entirely ease his worries, however, so once the day of departure arrives, he slips into the nearby Guyun Stone Forest to observe the ship as it prepares to sail away.

His mind is so clouded he doesn’t hear Aether approaching him from behind.

“Xiao?”

The adeptus feels a pang in his chest in the other’s tone of surprise; on the other hand, a breeze of thankfulness fills his heart—perhaps he is less see-through than he’d once thought. He turns to the golden-eyed boy with his usual blank face, hoping his mask does not break.

Paimon speaks before he can. “Are you here to say goodbye, Xiao?”

“Hmph.” If he was, he would need more coaxing to admit it. “I wanted to see to it the ship wouldn’t sink before you’ve even left Liyuen premises.”

Aether smiles like he knows what that sentence really meant. Xiao wonders if Aether really understands, or he just likes to believe it is that way. “Thank you.”

He’d promised once, after all, that he would protect Aether, hear his call, for as long as he is in Liyue. Anywhere beyond there… is entirely out of his jurisdiction.

“You know,” Paimon begins, crossing her small arms over her chest, “Paimon thinks it would be great if Xiao came with us. Then I wouldn’t be worrying so much about you getting in weird stuff, Aether.”

Xiao gets interrupted before he can reply. “That wouldn’t be a nice thing to ask, Paimon,” he explains, patting the fairy’s head gently before turning to Xiao. “Liyue is Xiao’s home, he belongs here. I can’t take that away from him—and him away from Liyue. Don’t you think, Xiao?”

Home, huh?

Two pairs of gold eyes meet, and in the other, Xiao sees a longing that he wonders is what foolish mortals would call love.

“May your journeys allow you to reach your sister soon,” is, instead, what Xiao settles with, and Aether pulls out another one of his cryptic smiles. Like he hears the Thank you. Like he hears the Liyue—and I—will always be here. Like he understands the I hope you, too, reach and return to that place where you belong.

Like he knows this is a goodbye, but of a different sort.

Xiao is too far from where they are to be visible when the two get on the ship. They wave vaguely in his direction, his attention called back by a whisper of his name in a familiar voice, carried by the sea breeze. Xiao watches as the anchor gets hoisted, the sails opened, and the ship begins to make its way into the great sea. Once it is out of his sight, he has no way to find out if Aether will be alright.

At dusk, the stars are beginning to come out, perfect for wayfinding. Its deep blueness is all-encompassing, as if cradling Xiao in familiar darkness.

The adeptus raises his head to the wide sky. The god he has worshipped is dead. Only Archons know where his pleas will end up in. But even if he does not know who will hear his wishes, for Aether—he prays.

-

Time is a silly thing. At first, a day feels like a hundred years, and then, a hundred years pass by in what feels like mere days.

What felt like the entire world once is now but a passing memory.

Liyue Harbor will always be in a state of flux—always changing, always inviting the newness of the world into its harbors. History will paint it in vibrant colors, its most beautiful traditions alongside the innovations of ever-changing cultures. But to Xiao, Liyue will always be the same.

Once, there was a traveler that roamed the landscape of Liyue, changing it and influencing it wherever he went. Shifting its colors; turning it upside down; leaving his stardust on it.

Liyue will always be the same.

The same harbor.

The same rooftop on Wangshu inn.

The same cliffside in Qingce.

The places Xiao went to, trying to understand what Liyue looked like to one who had come from the heavens, looking down.

The traveler he wished on stars to.

Xiao still finds him everywhere, in things beautiful and faint and gone in a moment.

[the-bjd-community-confess]

Dear 'Anime Bad' Anon: I Want To Help I pity your situation, so please have a list of weebshit that isn't moeified, or wherein the cutesy art-style serves a greater purpose. (Note: though they won't be soft marshmallow uguuuu, they may still have issues in other ways. Some may have aged badly with regards to how society views or portrays groups or beliefs, some may have upsetting content and dark themes, and some may simply not be to your taste. Note: Anime is a genre, not a monolith, and the disparaging stereotype that it's all cute girls uwuing over their brother s-s-senpai!!! is as much of a disservice as saying all western movies are just vapid cash grab superhero movie sequels with no inegrity or thought put into them. There are indeed a lot of superhero movies, but they're not all identical schlock (megamind vs venom vs kick-ass),  but even more than that, there is a wealth of creative endeavor just beyond the veil of Marvel's cape: just as there are plenty of good anime if you dig past the isekai high school harem wish fulfillment genre that no one wants to keep making but people keep making because it prints money to a very small demographic of the animation equivalent of a mobile game whale thereby allowing this frankly quite-small industry to work on engaging and worthwhile series where the budget permits, Regardless,)

Mushi-shi: -Pros: gorgeous animation, tranquil vibes, episodic stories so you can cram in an episode between classes or on your lunch break. highly recommended by the literal-who typing this out. -Cons: some themes or stories may cause emotional distress, learning to tell apart Urushibara Yuki's characters is a learning curve.

Baccano-Pros: meticulously-researched 20s-and-30s-era mafia violence with a hint of the supernatural, as a treat, told anachronistically with flair and jazz music. practically made to be binge-watched. the novels are finally getting translated into english as well. -Cons: lots of characters to keep track of, fair bit of blood and violence, some scenes or themes may be upsetting, lots of jumping around between different time periods. See Also: Durarara, another series by Ryōgo Narita with a ton of characters and a plot with more threads an overpriced sheet.

Cowboy Bebop-Pros: incredibly well-regarded, space bounty hunters are cool, episodic series that slowly takes on a plot towards the end, fantastic animation, scoring, and even dub work.  -Cons: some scenes or themes may be uncomfortable, some parts have not aged quite so well, the smart doll version of the main character is ugly, you're gonna carry that weight.

Trigun-Pros: starts lighthearted, develops an increasingly investing plot as the series goes along. fictional westerns are cool. this world is made of love and peace -Cons: some scenes or themes may be upsetting, and probably will be. gun violence is naturally present, but that ain't all of it.

Hellsing (standard or Ultimate. or Abridged)Pros: vampires killing nazis. the original adaptation isn't bad, the second adaptation (ultimate) is generally viewed as an improvement. abridged is a youtube parody version that was so popular the voice actors reference it in convention interviews.Cons: a Lot of violence, even trending to the gorey side of things. Uncomfortable Themes Everywhere, but it's a horror-tinged action series about killing nazis, so that's to be expected. 

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood-Pros: while the original anime was quite good, the second iteration is a large improvement. does to alchemy what naruto does to ninjas: It's Basically Battle Magic. the plot starts on a strong note and doesn't let up from there. -Cons: there are distressing scenes and themes that may or may not be tolerable to the viewer. there are moments of cheesecake and even an occasional joke or a moeblob here and there, and it's not all doom and all gloom all the time, but this doesn't detract from the abject horror-despair that comes to permeate this series as it progresses. finally understand why people on the internet respond so negatively to the name 'nina'! 

[Mod: many more recs/reviews under the break, worth reading for those who like more obscure anime and animation]

Grave of the Fireflies-Pros: you will remember how to cry. it's a good reminder that one country's 'triumphs' often come at the expense of another country's people.  -Cons: this movie is incredibly dark, do not watch if you are in a bad headspace. see also: Barefoot Gen, a similar tale but this time from the perspective of an actual survivor from Hiroshima.

Michiko to Hatchin-Pros: an actually diverse cast of characters tangled up in a messy and very humanizing story, interspersed with Shinichiro Watanabe's particular flare for adventure. -Cons: some scenes or themes are very likely to be distressing. can be tricky to find, too.

Mo no no Ke (not the ghibli movie, though it is also quite good.) -Pros: incredibly unique art style and pacing that draws heavily from japanese theatre traditions, every screenshot is wallpaper-worthy. -Cons: may cause motion sickness. it is a psychological horror series, and one that does not need blood, nor gore, to cause visceral emotional response in the viewer. scenes and themes will be distressing- as really, that's the point.

Tokyo Godfathers-Pros: a transwoman, a (self-identified) homeless bum, and a runaway teen girl find a newborn in the baby on christmas. incredibly wholesome, somehow, and grounded in reality, with wonderful animation from the tragically late satoshi kon. -Cons: it is grounded in realism, and sometimes, people are dicks. mild transphobia warning, too, but in-universe- the transwoman herself is portrayed with kindness and allowed to be her own (wonderful!!!) person. still, viewer be mindful.

Kino no Tabi (the first series is my preferred, the second is shinier but lacks emotional impact- in my onion.) -Pros: mostly episodic, very unique series that can be gritty where it counts and kind where it matters. -Cons: some scenes or themes might be disturbing. finding it's not easy, either, and unfortunately, i don't think the novels are being translated right now, either.

Spice and Wolf-Pros: it's mostly about economics. there are shenanigans, a harvest god, and a slowly burgeoning romance, sure, but it's still mostly about economics. -Cons: there are moments of cheesecake and comedy, and moments that may cause distress to the viewer. it may or may not be to your taste.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica-Cons: yeah i know, it's moeblobs.  -Pros: you're gonna watch 'em die, though, in case that may interest you. it's quite a good subversion of the magical girl genre overall. somehow volks hasn't made an MDD of anyone from the series and i will never understand how that didn't happen.

Wolf Children: Ame to Yuki-Pros: watch a family grow together as a newly-single mother does her best to raise her twin children after the tragic loss of their father.  -Cons: keep tissues handy. certain scenes or themes may be uncomfortable.

Lupin III (Red Jacket, Ghibli, and the new 3D animation are all A+) pros: heist comedy elevated to an art form before half (or more!) of the people reading this were born. the english dubbed series that used to air on adult swim is a treat. cons: this franchise started in THE SIXTIES, so naturally, some shit has not aged well. certain series (fujiko mine) are darker than others in themes and material. the 3d movie that released recently is an excellent starting point.

Samurai Champloo-Pros: breakdancing samurai, a fascinating roster of characters, and a superb soundtrack by the tragically passed Nujabes. -Cons: it was made in the weird era of the transition from analog to digital animation and so the /series master/ was animated at a painfully low resolution, so even if there's a bluray out there (I haven't looked,) it will be an upscale, which doesn't always look the best. as well, there are scenes and themes that may make the viewer uncomfortable here and there.

The Works of Studio Ghibli Oh, I'm sorry, Ponyo too suffused with childhood wonder for you? My Neighbor Totoro not depressing enough?  In addition to the infamous Grave of the Fireflies, Studio Ghibli has made a wealth of movies that aren't aimed squarely at the kodomo (children's) sector. -Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind: climate change existential dread, the movie -Castle in the Sky: government obsession with obtaining weapons of mass destruction destroys everything beautiful, the movie -Pom Poko: human-caused deforestation and urbanization is destroying the natural world and all that live in it, the movie -Princess Mononoke: industrialization will be the death of everything beautiful in the world, the movie, with a side of sometimes everyone (and no one) is the villain when everyone is simply trying to survive -Howl's Moving Castle: The Physical Manifestation of Depression is a Liquid Ooze, the Movie, also War Is Bad It's not all depressing, but let it never be said that Hayao Miyazaki was subtle. Whisper of the Heart is a good coming-of-age story, Kiki's Delivery Service is a classic, Tales from Earthsea is divisive among fans of Ursula K. Le Guin but I personally liked it. From one studio alone there is a wealth of opportunities.

And that's really the point. These are just some from the top of my head. There are so very many options outside of the cute-girls-doing-cute-things genre that I couldn't list them all if I was here for a week. Or as Madoka Magica so ruthlessly showcases, even series that appear a certain way on the surface might not be what you bargained for once you look into them! These are all (I think) mostly older, mainstream-appeal series that should be easy to track down, too -- there are all kinds of singular animations like The Diary of Tortov Roddle, crowdfunded experiments like KICK-HEART, Masterpiece World Theatre renditions of classic (western) novels that never get talked about, films like A Silent Voice that confront social issues- and of course, series like Rozen Maiden that helped popularize this very hobby!

There is literally an ocean of content to explore from Japanese creators alone, and it opens up even more if you look into works from other parts of Asia- just look at how popular manwha have become, or Chinese animations like Leafie, a Hen Into the Wild! It's a genre unto itself, with all the breadth of content and inter-industry problems that come with it, and without any of the respect that similar art forms have been granted over the years. The way an entire culture's art form is often disparaged, disregarded, and belittled- and by extension, the way most of Asia's animated endeavors are often rolled up into that reductive dismissal along with anime and manga- is honestly Not Great, and there is absolutely a thread of xenophobia that runs through it. The industry has so very many problems (low wages, poor training, overwork of everyone ever, archaic financial modules, the exclusivity and breadth of merchandising necessary to turn a profit and how it leads to consumer burnout and disconnection over time, and yes, the way minors are portrayed not just in anime, but in Japanese media in general- and how much of that is actually bad (some of it is indeed,) and how much if it is cultural difference (I've heard people call the scene where the family in Totoro bathe together problematic because of the nudity, but I've also only heard people say that from the West)

-- none of the actual problems affecting the people who produce this medium are gonna improve when the general response to "animators frequently have to live at home to survive" is "that's what happens when you're a weeb."  It's 5am and I'm gonna point out the problems in the narrative around how we discuss this genre of entertainment because it's important, damn you! Regardless, thank you for coming to my unasked for and overlong TED talk about animation on a doll collecting drama blog, feel free to call me a pathetic weeb etcetera on your way out- but while you do so, might I suggest you also go watch a choice animated series! My current go-to is Bofuri, which is a cute-girls-doing-cute-things moefied isekai series that I refuse to apologize for watching. Be free. (The battle scenes are great and it captures the feeling of learning to play a new MMO with your friends better than most video-game-based anime I've seen in a long, long time. does anyone even still remember .hack? how about serial experiments lain...?)

~Anonymous

[missingjackklinehours]

Mo(u)rning Dove

@spnarchangelweek <3

Rating: Teen & Up (Gen Lucifer & Gabriel)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Derealization

Fic & Playlist available on AO3! (feel free to read under the cut, however!)

   Dendrite; His wings are like crystallized dendrite, Lucifer notices.

   Intricate patterns of iridescent gold branches engraved in each fulgent feather of his. Rays of daylight that dare reflect off the Messenger’s butterscotch wings are ardently absorbed to preserve his internal light—He burns far brighter than any star could begin to comprehend.

   Lucifer can feel his warmth when he allopreens Gabriel’s dendrite-etched feathers. The thriving fledgling squirms uncomfortably under his working hands, his budding golden feathers twitching with each gentle pluck. His petite form leans away from Lucifer’s algid touch, and he whines with a callow pout when Lucifer prudently guides him back. Lucifer attempts to soothe his baby brother, amicable words of a story falling from his polar lips to allay Gabriel’s discomfort; Gabriel always loved his stories.

   The gold expands as he develops. Complex veins of sunlight-drenched sheen contour the coverts of his pinions. The shinier they get, the brighter he burns and the more pleasant light he intakes. Gabriel emits brilliant luminescence like no other, and his sun-kissed wings like dendrite are proof.

   Lucifer combs through gold with every softly recited word of a tale. Gabriel has grown to melt into the Morningstar’s wintry touch, listening attentively to the plot of his elder brother’s story. He is eagerly expectant; His big brother always comes to him with newer, longer, better anecdotes during preening season. Gabriel adores every one of them, though when he feels Lucifer culling the last of his unkempt and grimed feathers, he pleads with full, star-struck sky eyes to hear the lullaby that first lulled him to sleep, long ago. Lucifer teases him with fondness in his irises, but he gives in—He always does. It’s hard to say no to Gabriel when he looks that jubilant.

   “... dream on, dear little child…”

   Gabriel has already complied to the lullaby’s verses by the time Lucifer adeptly tweaks the last sliver of gold. The Morningstar’s waning notes fade out, though his boreal fingers still find themselves in between honey, dendrite-embedded feathers. Gabriel snores like a little beast, and Lucifer can’t help but grin at him as he gingerly caresses his slumbering brother’s effulgent wings.

   The luster of his gold is brightest against the pristine cream of misted clouds. By the time Lucifer teaches Gabriel to fly, he’s become a beacon in the night. Lucifer’s frosted fingers tag one of his younger brother’s radiant wings, sniggering as he calls out “you’re it!” and soars swiftly in the other direction of Heaven’s lilac skies. As much as he tries through his giggles, Gabriel can’t keep up, and they both know it.

   He’s growing too fast. At times, Lucifer reminisces on the distant era he was able to hold Gabriel in his arms. His dendrite-pattern had hardly blossomed then, and Gabriel’s gold hadn’t shimmered as bold. As he looks at his younger brother now, he sees curious divinity. Gabriel’s getting old enough to where Lucifer can’t shield him from danger, and it makes the elder angel anxious.

   The snow of the Morningstar’s fingers drag further, deeper into gold. Gabriel’s wings are evolving, the golden bliss of his spirited light washing vividly over Heaven. The Messenger no longer leans in, nor away from Lucifer’s preening; He simply hums, swaying in rhythm with the breaths of Lucifer's story. No matter how old he gets, he always loves to listen to his big brother’s voice. When Lucifer is nearly finished grooming auric feathers, he happily anticipates Gabriel to plead with him to sing their lullaby. Instead, Gabriel turns to him, and his golden light seeps through his wide smile, a trickle of celestial sun through pearly teeth.

   "Luci, can I pretty please do yours?"

   Lucifer is taken aback. Gabriel has never offered to preen his feathers; Lucifer's wings hadn't been preened since Michael had taken up his part of Heaven's responsibilities—It had been a long time. Lucifer’s matured wings flex automatically in thrill at the mention of grooming. Gabriel acknowledges it, and he brightens, if possible. His little brother is giving him that look, one of so much inspired euphoria with such a rush of nostalgic innocence that he looks no different from the very first time Lucifer preened his teensy, yet complex feathers.

   Lucifer can’t refuse. 

   His wings of vermillion are far larger, though far more disheveled than Gabriel’s have ever been; The young Messenger has always had Lucifer to care for him. Gabriel’s clement hands are profoundly gentle, like refreshing spring rain drizzled on feverish skin or a tenderhearted baby dove nuzzling gratefully against its mother. Even at viscid spots where his vermillion adheres in thickly bedraggled clumps as a result from neglect, Gabriel’s touch remains serene and delicate. Lucifer feels more tranquil than he has in centuries—It’s as if he’s mindlessly drifting amongst endless indigo seas of winding galaxies and Gabriel is sweetly guiding him by the hand through the silver of stars. Lucifer now understands why Gabriel loves Heaven’s preening season.

   A faint ghost of a mellifluous melody draws him from his wafting reverie. Gabriel is humming, a saccharine purr carrying a familiar harmony; It’s their lullaby. Lucifer picks up on the part his baby brother is humming, and he nimbly sings along. He watches intently with a splitting simper when their sitting shadows in front of him swell as Gabriel’s golden light brightens merrily at the pleasant sound.

   “... in the sky, stars are still fading away…”

   Gabriel’s effulgence is rapidly dawning to be more blinding than any entity in existence. His stellar golden feathers branch out further and his daedal dendrite details seem to crystallize in a more radiant fashion. Lucifer genially revels in his bright brilliance everytime they unite. Though, it’s far from the only thing that’s improving in Gabriel; He’s much quicker than before. Lucifer has to exert all of his energy to keep ahead when briskly gliding away from his little brother after he tags his butter-flushed wings. He deliberately assumes that Gabriel will inherit his Heavenly duties soon, with his speed approaching the potential Father saw when he named him as Heaven's Messenger.

   Gabriel isn’t the only one who’s changing.

   Lucifer is altering—morphing—wavering. The Mark of Cain is an irritant upon his ivory skin, his grace, his mind. He’s growing colder, and he feels the need to be enigmatic. Father is never wrong, because Father is absolute. It’s firmly ingrained in his mind, and it’s been that way since he was a fledgling. Lucifer repeats it to himself as he observes Lilith, the first woman, refuse subservience to her created equal, Adam. He watches silently when she leaves the perfect haven Father had meticulously created for her, and he watches in bemusement as a flock of his determined siblings attempt to forcibly return her to Eden. She is resilient, and Adam is egotistical and very flawed; Lucifer desperately tries to comprehend why his Father, instead of establishing that they are equals, creates Adam a new partner and banishes Lilith from ever returning to Eden.

   Father is wrong. When the belief dawns on him, Lucifer has an epiphany—a twisted thought follows. The Mark of Cain sears like it never has before; A scorching white fire that engulfs his entire being, scalding the abundance of all his infinite eyes and fiercely igniting his vermillion wings in grandeur flames. Despite the famished embers from within, he feels frozen and trapped under a bulky sheet of ice, breathlessly viewing his life continue without him as he drowns in desolate, boreal seas. 

   Lucifer has unequivocally changed; He is different. Gabriel is the first to notice. 

   Preening season has arrived. Lucifer is much colder, and the raw bite of his frost elicits a vicious shiver when his fingers pluck gold feathers. His cautiousness is replaced by dissociation, the younger angel is wincing. Lucifer feels distant, and Gabriel thinks he is lightyears from his brother despite him being mere inches away. 

   Lucifer abstractly traces dendrite when he’s nearing the final unkempt clot of feathers, absentmindedly humming a familiar tune. This time, Gabriel says nothing. His scintillant wings tense up at bitter ice fingertips picking at his golden light.

   “... down here, a dying dove crawls…”

   The lyrics have changed. Lucifer feels numb; Gabriel feels scared.

   It’s the last expression Lucifer sees from Gabriel, and it’s the last thing he remembers when he returns from Eden. He is abruptly a liar, he is a liar without deceiving. He is no longer the Morningstar. He is the Serpent.

   Michael’s rigid voice is echoing, lightning is cracking, angels are wailing. His Father's—his Father who is wrong—light feels cold. Lucifer can’t hear, feel any of it. The thrum of a familiar lullaby is beating in his ears. All harshly fades away when he promptly perceives that the burning white fire that had smouldered within him is suddenly reality, and it is reflected on vermillion wings. He is physically falling, a lightheadedness clouding his consciousness, and when he forces open his forlorn eyes against the whizzing wind, he sees smoke. Lucifer screams.

   Vermillion is ablaze. He is frightfully alone as he fleetly plunges into an unknown abyss, an alien place that is farther from home than he can begin to comprehend. A despairing attempt to frantically flap his wings ensues, but they only twitch. He tries again in a panic, and the insatiable white flames tease him with a hungry smirk. The Serpent relents in his feeble attempts to salvage his wings, squeezing his eyes shut again and dreadfully awaiting impact.

   Lucifer can’t help but wonder if gold would be more successful.

   He is going to be the dove. He is the dove.

𓏧༻🕊️༺𓏧

   Gabriel is grown; It’s Lucifer’s first observation.

   A foolish little part of him expected him to never age, forever remaining the same sweetly innocent fledgling that Lucifer once held lovingly in his arms. Forever lasting the same playful angel that struggled to tag him back. Forever retaining the same ambitious persistence to hear his big brother’s stories. Forever seeping golden washes of sunlight through his toothy beams, harboring the brightest light in existence within his being.

   This time, it's Gabriel who has changed; He has dimmed significantly. Lucifer misses his light.

   Lucifer maps the faint outline of his brother’s golden wings with his eyes, burnishing cracks through the universe’s perceptibility to accommodate him. Lucifer had frequently thought about the refined softness of the gold between his fingers when he was imprisoned, and he’d pondered about who would care for them while he was away. Who would pluck his fledgling’s feathers during preening season, who would tell him stories and lull him to sleep? In this moment, Lucifer can see that nobody has; Gabriel’s gold is matted and besmirched.

   Gabriel was alone, just as he had been.

   He wields a blade, Lucifer acknowledges. Gabriel intends to kill him, despite the blatantly obvious fear in his true form's numerous uncertain azure eyes. Lucifer can sense it from miles away. It’s the same look he’d worn when Lucifer had last allo-preened his brother’s butterscotch wings—The look he’d bore when Lucifer sang the last notes of their lullaby, one he’d twisted to mirror his emotions at the time.

   Gabriel’s hands slightly tremble as he raises his blade behind his brother, reluctantly creeping forward. Lucifer’s tarred wings twitch like they did when he fell, and he imperceptibly rubs at the deity blood stuck between his fingertips in anticipation.

   He doesn’t want to be the dove again.

   He turns. The fear in Gabriel’s irises is more decipherable, so visible that Lucifer can nearly catch up on all the millennia he’d missed in this very moment. Lucifer is catatonically speaking, though he barely understands it himself. The blade is resting like bait against Gabriel’s skin, a tense pressure that Lucifer can almost feel against his own chest. 

   Lucifer wants to see his baby brother’s light again.

   He does. The blade is abruptly buried in Gabriel’s being, and his brother’s fear is gone. Intense radiance of pure, euphoric sunlight envelops Lucifer as Heaven’s Messenger’s last flicker of light shines, just as he was meant to do. Brilliant light is blinding; Gabriel’s is alluring. Lucifer is warm for the first time since his wings were searing, and he thinks he hears the memory of Gabriel humming their lullaby. Gabriel feels like home, he feels like the fledgling he once knew. Lucifer feels like himself again. He sees gold.

   It’s over as quick as it began.

   Lucifer is alone again. Though, now, he stands over the fledgling he’d raised, the fledgling he cherished, the fledgling he loved—His fledgling. His wings are no longer gold, no longer luminous. They are gloomy, blackened shadows against the hardwood floor. Lucifer’s stomach twists in knots, spurts of swelling emotions he hadn’t felt in years swirling sourly in his being, and he drops Gabriel’s blade. 

   Gold is black. Gabriel is gone.

   That same foolish part of him expected there to be nothing but raw sunshine where Gabriel now lies, for his vessel to evaporate and his grace to rejoin the bright star he was created from. Instead, he sees vermillion; a thin stream of it dripping in blots against the floor.

   Lucifer can’t help but notice the way his blood oozes in a familiar dendrite pattern. Dendrite; Gabriel, a grand cluster of light so brilliant, his gold wings streaked with crystallized branches of it.

   The Serpent leaves, the whispers of a certain tune in his head. He hopes it can conceal the shrieking sound of his own convoluted thoughts.

   He doesn’t want to be the dove again. Gabriel takes his place.

[yamayuandadu]

Rider of Clouds

A a loose adaptation of the Ugaritic Baal cycle of myths, with some changes and the holes patched up with other myths and historical trivia. It will probably go on and on as some sort of silly “myth crossover” thing. Mount Saphon, the spiritual center of a large but poorly defined area spanning from the Mediterranean Sea to the Euphrates and the residence of many gods, needs a new king. While the former king of the gods, El, favors his distant relative Yam, this decision is not popular with the other deities and would be a disaster for their human followers; however, few dare to question El decisions in public. The exception is Baal, the heir(ess) of El's popular but not very ambitious rival Dagan, determined to take Mount Saphon to the bright future of the late bronze age.

Protagonists

Baal (Hebat) – the eponymous Rider of Clouds (a real title used in myths and cult texts), a young weather deity born to Dagan and Shalash (not pictured), semi-retired agricultural gods who settled in Tuttul on the Euphrates shortly before Baal's birth. Dagan hails from Mesopotamia proper, while Shalash is Hurrian. While the mythical  Baal Hadad is male, my version is a woman – the idea started as a joke about conflating Baal from the Baal cycle with Baalat Gebal, a female figure associated with another levantine bronze age city (BG's actual identity is an object of much scholarly debate) being more valid than conflating him with much later Baal Hammon from Carthage (or rather with Roman hot takes about this deity), which happens a lot online, but I got attached to it o now here we are.   She nonetheless uses a male title inherited from her father, much like a few historical female rulers did. In my version “Hadad” is only a title (or rather a me, eg. divine attribute), and her real name is actually Hebat. Irl Hebat was, among other things, the name of a goddess mentioned in one inscription as Dagan's daughter, and thus a featureles sister of Baal. As the levantine/syrian Hebat lacks a defined character in real mythology (”another” Hebat was regarded as the Hurrian storm god's wife but was at times replaced in this role by the more interesting sun goddess of Arinna and that's about it; I'm not going to use that one in my story) it should be fine to conflate her with Dagan's best attested divine child, I think? Baal is impulsive and follows a moral code which, depending on the point of view, might be either naive or heroic, which means she's not exactly the optimal person to get involved in n-dimensional divine politics (the ideal person to be the protagonist of an Ugaritic epic poem, as evidenced by history), but that's not enough to stop her from trying; the popularity with humans helps, too. The story documents her rise to the position of the head god of the pantheon residing on Mount Saphon, ruling over Ugarit and other surrounding areas.

Astarte (it should be Ashtart for maximal accuracy but everyone knows the later form of the name better so...) – a goddess of humble origin and no particularly well defined attributes, who attaches herself to Baal initially in hopes of advancing own career, though the two eventually develop a more genuine relationship. She patterns herself after the much more famous Mesopotamian Inanna, seeing her as an ideal to strive for. While Baal has the name recognition and disposition fitting for a major deity, Astarte is the part of the duo actually capable of navigating politics, and takes the title of Face of Baal, negotiating support for Baal's bid with other gods. The image of Baal she projects differs slightly from reality, though not enough for most onlookers to notice. Astarte is also a connoisseur of foreign clothing (as pictured above) and art.

Anat (art courtesy of my girlfriend who sadly isn’t on tumblr but who helped a lot with figuring out a lot about this story) – the younger daughter of the ruling couple of Mount Saphon. Her philosophy differs greatly from her parents' and as a result she isn't really seriously considered for succession. Her hobbies include bladed weapons, gambling and heroic epics; in the past she attempted writing her own self insert one. Her temperament means she was never considered for succession, which she doesn't particularly mind. She's deeply invested in Baal's ascendance, and is probably the god Astarte wants to recruit for their cause the most.

Gupan and Ugar – two minor gods who might be some of the only allies Baal recruited herself rather than with Astarte's help. They play a minor role in the story as her messengers and heralds (just like in the real myth!). They're also a couple. The cuneiform on their coats says “Baal.”

Kothar-wa-Khasis – a craftsman god who, by own admission, only works part time in Ugarit and travels the world for the rest of it. He's kind and dependable and his wares are both affordable and of great quality, but his real motives are hard to ascertain. His real identity is likewise a subject of much speculation among other gods – while his preferred manner of clothing hints at an egyptian origin, nothing is known for sure. His true name is that of the god Ptah of Memphis; he spends most time outside it and incognito because he thinks smaller pantheons on the periphery of Egypt's influence offer more artistic freedom. He speaks in a very poetic pointlessly complex way (basically... imitating the style of ancient poem translations). While an architect first and foremost he a reneissance man - architect, sculptor, engineer, armorer, musician. He isn't very fond of Yam due to the latter's lack of aptitude for art and cost cutting suggestions.

There are actually two gods hiding behind the title “Kothar-wa-Khasis,” with the second one hailing from Caphtor (Crete) from where  Kothar arrives when commissioned to build Baal's palace in the real myth. She's shy and refuses to reveal her real name and hides behind the title “Mistress of the Labyrinth” and the labrys symbol. Her arrival is generally a sign of the duo taking a project particularly seriously.

Shapash – El's firstborn daughter, serving as “the torch of the gods”, a royal herald and solar deity. She also handles her parents' “foreign policy” on their behalf, which in practice means figuring out how to placate neighbors whose decisions aren't guided by the need to avoid angering various reviled figures.

Antagonists

Yam (right)  – a sea monster more than a god, presiding over the nearby section of the sea and all that dwells in it, including the commercially significant sea slugs. He's also the son of the formerly influential Anatolian god Kumarbi, banished to the underworld by the current head god Teshub due to his many past misdeeds. As a result of his father's past influence over the world (and current influence over the ruling couple), Yam gained El's support and received many titles, which de facto makes him the most likely to succeed El as the king of local pantheon.  He's capricious and inconsiderate, but maintains a larger than life public image meant to make him palatable to potential backers. The exact circumstances of his arrival in Ugarit are shrouded in mystery, and may or may not be responsible for his unusually strong hatred of Baal. Mot (left) – profoundly unpleasant and unsociable being kept around by Anat's parents for unclear reasons. He resides in the great offering pit in the abandoned city of Urkesh, formerly the center of Kumarbi's sphere of influence, reduced to a ghost town.   While his equivalents in neighboring areas generally view themselves as impartial or as a necessary evil, Mot gets his kicks from posing as a personification of death itself, and is notoriously corrupt. El and Athirat – the ruling couple of Mount Saphon and parents of Anat and Shapash, currently pondering retirement, which stirs many contenders to the throne into action. El is a lifelong opportunist changing views and allegiances as he sees fit, though he pretty consistently favors his distant relative Yam as his main underling ever since the latter arrived in the area.

El was originally Amurru, a courtier of the sky god Anu, overthrown by the nefarious Kumarbi. For unclear reasons Kumarbi made Amurru his vassal and bestowed the name Elkunirsa, or El for short, upon him.

Athirat is largely responsible for El maintaining his title for so long, and is a much craftier politician than he is. She comes from an influential dynasty of sea gods, but lacks dominion over the sea herself.

She and Yam are related, as seen here.

Abduyam – an attempt at developing an obscure figure from the original myth, Yam's nameless and seemingly rather rude and infuriating messenger, into a full blown character. The theophoric name he uses (there are real theophoric names invoking Yam, surprisingly) is just a pseudonym, and his real identity is a mystery. He interned under a variety of famous mythical villains in order to gain a greater understanding of their ways, and currently serves as Yam's messenger, adviser, doorkeeper and punching bag.

Ashtar – a feeble opportunist who sides with Yam, hoping to receive a share in the gains he's making thanks to El's blessings. He's pretty content with playing the role of a toady though his aspirations might be different, as Baal and Astarte suspect due to his love of gaudy imported textiles. Megalomania doesn't necessarily equal malevolence, though. He also loves sea slugs.

Foreign dignitaries

(ignore the ?, it’s just Baal) Marduk (right) – the tutelary deity of Babylon, a prominent and internationally renowned god. While technically the area encompassing Mount Saphon, where the events of the story take place, isn't directly under the control of the Babylonian pantheon, as one of the oldest in the world and the source of the writing it nonetheless has a tremendous impact on smaller neighbors. Formally Marduk is merely a representative of his father Enki and the assembly of the gods in Nippur, but as the old gods are not very mobile, he's the de facto acting head of the pantheon in foreign relations. He doesn't have a unified mythical narrative about himself yet at this point in time, despite his position, which is a source of insecurity for him. During travels, he's assisted by his personal aide and biographer, Nabu (not pictured), and his pet mushussu, Tishpak. Seth (left) – in real life, ancient Egyptians equated many gods of their neighbors with Seth; therefore in Rider of Clouds Seth serves as an ambassador of the Egyptian pantheon, usually residing in Gebal near Mount Saphon – a city whose gods (and human rulers) take pride in trying to be more Egyptian than the Egyptians themselves, and regard Seth as their spiritual liege (under the title “Lord of Lebanon”). While ultimately Marduk's judgment matters the most, Seth gets the right to veto his decisions when it comes to validating claims to local thrones. On good terms with Kothar-wa-Khasis, which is a subject of much gossip among other gods. Teshub (center) – the head of the Hurrian pantheon, technically capable of projecting the most power in Mount Saphon politics due to the Hurrian influence on huge number of other local pantheons, including that of the Hittites, thanks to his marriage to the Hittite sun goddess of Arinna; however, as the local gods for the most part share closer affinity with Mesopotamia than Hatti, he competes with Marduk for political influence. As he and Baal are a very similar type of god, he's the most outspoken supporter of Baal's ascension to the throne out of all 3 foreign dignitaries. El’s support for his nemesis is probably a factor, too.

Kubaba – the head goddess of Carchemish; much like the king of Carchemish served as a Hittite viceroy taking care of affairs of the vassals irl, she acts as Teshub's ambassador in the southeast, mediating between the Anatolian and Syrian gods. She hopes that Baal's rise will normalize foreign relations to the benefit of her human followers – El's erratic behavior and sympathy for a number of widely detested figures made that rather difficult. While she's not much older than Baal, she poses as an ancient deity and dresses like someone twice her age. She also seeks opportunities to insert herself into suitably ancient narratives. In another time and place she'll be known as Cybele, and eventually as the Roman Magna Mater, but this is not the story about it.

Plot-relevant but not present in the story physically

Inanna – the celebrity superstar of every pantheon from Hatti to Elam. After being elevated to one of the foremost positions among the gods she started a profitable franchising business, offering help with setting up own cult system and the right to use the title of “Ishtar” and the eight pointed star emblem in exchange for a share in potential profit and a spot in the franchisee' home pantheon. As her fame is unique even among the greatest of the gods, this isn't that bad of a deal. Other benefits of the franchising program include free tickets to the annual Ishtar meetup in Uruk and a 24/7 tech support line ran by her sukkal Ninshubur. Asides from Astarte, prominent members of the franchising program include the Hurrian Shaushka, the Elamite Pinikir, and the night goddess of Kizzuwatna.

Kumarbi: an agricultural god of the Hurrians who seized the kingship of their pantheon violently before being overthrown himself by Teshub and his allies. Now he resides in the underworld and plots, aided by a network of allies – some opportunistic, some stupid, some simply malevolent. His will is usually carried out by an unspecified number of identical fate goddesses, possible to differentiate only by the numerals on their veils. At the core he and Baal's father Dagan are very similar gods in function, but not in temperament.

[laulink]

After listening to Friend (and crying. A lot.), I decided to try my hand at analysing the song’s lyrics and what they could possible mean for Penny, Ruby, and the story going forward. So let’s get started.

Darkness like Midnight

Moonless there’s no light

Another lonely day

Is ending

Searching forever

Waiting but never finding

The only thing

I dream of

The warmth of a smile

That stays for a while

The face of a friend

That won’t leave

Alright, that’s a lot to begin with, but the whole segment can only, truly be understood after hearing those last four lines, so let’s break it down.

The first two thirds of this part is about Penny’s life before she met Ruby. She was all alone, every day, as “another lonely day” implies. This loneliness is characterised by darkness, the moonless night at the end of the lonely day, meaning that even at night, Penny finds no light to brighten up her existence.

The mention of “Midnight” is interesting here, because Midnight is the title of the episode in which we discover Cinder’s backstory and this episode is, to say the least, quite dark. Plus, there are some parallels to be drawn between Cinder and Penny : both of them have been chosen by authority figures (Salem and James) and given a destiny and a role by those same figures (Protector of Mantle, destined to save the world, for Penny and the Destroyer of Humanity, destined to bring the current world of Remnant to an end by helping Salem with her plans and gathering the Maiden powers for Cinder). According to those first few lines, we could also parallel their upbringing : both of them were alone with no friends for a long time, then one person appeared and brightened up their existence (Ruby and Rhodes), going so far as to give Penny and Cinder hope that they could escape the chains restraining them and start making their own choices (staying at Beacon for Penny and becoming a Huntress for Cinder).

In other words, you could say that, in this first line, Penny is telling us that she was in a similar place to Cinder when Cinder was a child. Of course, I expect Penny’s needs were attended to and she was most likely not a victim of physical abuse like Cinder was, but the lack of friends, the loneliness and the restraints around them and their every movement is certainly similar.

Then comes the last third of this first extract, the one about the thing Penny chases : a friend who would stay by her side and smile with her. The last two lines, “The face of a friend/That won’t leave” seems to imply that Penny has some semblance of friend already, but that the friend(s) in question leave and don’t stick around long enough for the relationship to properly develop and be given meaning to.

This line made me think of Ciel Soleil, to be honest. Ciel was Penny’s “teammate” during the Vytal Festival, yet they weren’t seen together all that often, mostly right before, during and after the match against team CRDL. Despite this, Ciel was obviously very much aware of Penny’s strength and abilities, having even planned for their double match to end in less than a minute (if I remember correctly). That means that Ciel saw Penny fight a few times and, if you add that to the fact that James couldn’t have just added her to a random team for the Festival with no explanation whatsoever to the team or their classmates, that probably means Penny more or less attended Atlas Academy with Ciel and two other teammates, so her presence in the Festival wouldn’t be strange.

However, we know Atlas Academy’s stance on friendships among teams and we saw how socially unaware Penny was during her first meeting with Team RWBY and how happy she was to find someone who would call her a friend. So it isn’t a stretch to think that none of Penny’s teammates were really friendly to her, keeping their relationships professional, to her dismay.

Moving on !

I heard a song once

It posed this point of view

That wishes made on stars 

Are likely to come true

So here’s my secret

At bedtime every night

I searched the sky and hoped to find 

A star who’d send a light

To me

The one thing I need

Just one kind soul

With a heart of gold

Then my dreams became real

And I finally feel not alone

Do hugs always make you feel this warm ?

A big chunk again, but this one will be easier to break down.

This part of the song tells us that Penny’s dream was to have a friend, even “Just one kind soul” to ease the loneliness. Her best bet for that was to make a wish on a star and yeah, that’s awfully cute, because all of us, when we were kids, were told that kind of story, but it’s also sad that Penny’s only hope to find a friend was to be granted a miracle from a star far away. And, given that the previous part of the song mentioned a dark night sky with no light (“Moonless, there’s no light”), we also know that there weren’t a lot of stars for Penny to wish on, or in other words, that her chances of her wish being granted were very small.

However, the miracle happened ! Ruby appeared and made Penny’s dream come true ! The one kind soul with a heart of gold who would be her friend !

The line about hugs making you feel warm doesn’t really fit in the narrative of their encounter and Ruby’s impact on Penny’s life, however, since the first time Penny asked Ruby this question was in V8, so much later in their relationship. To me, it mainly serves as the first line to really establish, with no possible doubt, that this song is sung from Penny’s point of view and that the friend she is referencing is Ruby, as this question is extremely specific and exclusive to the two of them.

My dreams came true

The day that you appeared

And called me “friend”

An answered prayer

A chance to

Share the world

To be a girl

Who finally felt alive

Refrain ! It’s all about how Ruby’s appearance indeed made Penny’s dreams a reality : she got a friend, someone she could explore the world with, talk to about it, ask questions to and discuss with, but most of all, someone with whom she could finally feel like a girl instead of a weapon, a living being instead of a machine. We know, from her reveal in V2, that Penny was very self-conscious and uncertain of her own humanity, that she knew a lot of people would see her as nothing but a robot and that she was half-believing they would be right to. Her relief when Ruby assured her she was a real girl was “crushing”, to say the least x)

And this feeling of being real and alive, she got it all thanks to Ruby and Ruby alone. None of the other heroes would have tried to become her friend if not for Ruby, so she’s really the starting point of almost all of Penny’s most important relationships.

I’m so excited

We’ll do so many friendship things

Paint our nails, try on clothes, talk about cute boys

Attached but not by Strings

Another callback to V1 with “Paint our nails, try on clothes, talk about cute boys”. The nostalgia is hitting hard. But, most importantly, we have our second V8 title : Strings. The episode in which Penny’s “strings”, the ones linking her to her swords, her robot body itself, reminded us that her allusion is Pinocchio, a puppet who was given life to, but who was still a puppet for most of the movie. Penny is a living being, but her robotic body was hackable, and because of that Watts was able to use a string (the connection between her and her swords) to plant a virus inside of her, starting her descent toward her tragic end.

In the context of this song though, the meaning of this word is not quite so dark. Penny is speaking from her V1 point of view, the point of view of a girl who just met her first friend, while all her previous relationships were mainly based on her condition as the first synthetic being able to produce an aura : the soldiers keeping watch over her because she’s a precious project, the scientists working on her so she could achieve her maximum potential, Ironwood who chose the Penny project over all others so the result of this project would protect and save the world... Penny was attached to all of them and they were all attached to her, but not by feelings : by the strings of work and duty, in both ways. Ruby was the first person who attached herself to Penny and let Penny attach herself to her for other reasons, purely out of affection and desire to be friends. She was the first person Penny was free to attach herself to as well : one of the first choices Penny really made for herself. No strings attached, yet still together because they both want to be.

And when you’ve got problems

Whoa ! Then I’ve got problems too

You’ll never face this world alone 

I’ll be right here it’s you

And me

Protectors of each other’s what we’ll be

First two lines are about Penny being ready to share her friend’s burdens, as friends tend to do, and this sentiment motivates the promise she makes in the next four lines, but here’s the thing : we’re still hearing Penny’s thoughts and point of view from V1. And since V1, she’s failed to make good on this promise twice : at the end of V3 and now at the end of V8, by dying, leaving Ruby alone to fend for herself, no “protector” there to guard her back and share her burdens with. Despite her best intentions, Penny cannot make good on the promise she seems to have made Ruby (or internally made, most likely) back in V1. 

Now, that’s the pessimistic opinion. If you look at it from a more optimistic point of view, you could say the exact opposite thing, at least when it comes to her V3 death : Penny went so far as to overcome death to come back in V7 and by Ruby’s side. She’s done it once, and you can expect that girl to do it a second time, because she made a promise to her friend and she’s going to keep it.

You saw my soul

Through the nuts and bolts

You’re the friend I can trust

Helped me see I’m not just a machine

And is this what “All the feels” mean ?

And now we are entering the realm of V2 references ! Basically just a retelling of Penny’s big reveal and all the times Ruby has reassured her that she’s a real girl since that first time, though to be honest, I’m not sure where the last line comes from. I don’t remember hearing either of them talking about “all the feels” and even my digging in V1, 2 and 3 didn’t help, so if anyone has an idea, hit me up, ‘cause this has me stumped.

I’ve been combat-ready since the day Dad made me

Now I’ll fight for something more

Might sound wholesome but strangely

I’ve got friends I’m fighting for

This part is now about the events of V7 and 8, I believe. Everyone was friendly to Penny back in V2 and 3, after her help at the docks, but I am not certain they would have considered each other actual friends, with how little time Penny was able to spend with them, aside from Ruby. So her referring to the multiple friends she is now fighting for fits more with her situation and relationships from V7 and 8 as well as character arc in those volumes, especially since she never fought for her friends in earlier volumes (with the exception of the fight at the docks, but even then she was fighting mostly for Ruby, not really for the others). In the last two volumes however, especially V8, she had to choose between her allegiance to the military and the safety of the people she cared about, her friends as well as the people of Mantle.

But I found that humanity

It came with sacrifice, a pact

To shield you from the wicked even if I can’t

Live for real it was worth it to know you

And now we are hearing Penny’s point of view in her last moments in V8 : the moment she sacrificed herself and died a second time.

As I understand it, Penny’s humanity, her feelings, her love for her friends, is what pushed her to sacrifice herself : because she cared for them, she didn’t want them to die at Cinder’s hands, and she knew that would be what would happen if Cinder got both sets of Maiden powers : she would be unstoppable by non-Maiden and non-SEW characters. So, to “shield [her friends, and especially Ruby] from the wicked (Cinder and Salem)”, she decides to sacrifice herself to make sure that the Winter Maiden powers end up in good hands. She makes this decision knowing that she is sacrificing her life and won’t be able to live “for real”. I think this means that a part of her will survive, the part of her who will live on in Winter (and, to some extent, the part of her that will stay alive in her friends’ hearts), so she will “live on”, if only her memory and will, but even if she can’t have a life of her own, she doesn’t regret sacrificing her existence if it means protecting her friends, and especially Ruby, because knowing Ruby had made her life worthwhile.

What Penny is saying is that, if she could choose between staying alive in a world where she never met Ruby and dying in this world where they became friends, she would choose becoming Ruby’s friend and dying, because their friendship is what made life worth living for Penny.

My dreams came true

The day that you appeared

And called me “friend”

An answered prayer

A chance to

Share the world

To be a girl

Who finally felt alive

We end the song on the refrain, which isn’t all that uncommon, but has a bittersweet taste after the last part of the song : just after Penny says that she doesn’t regret dying if it means saving her friends, because Ruby made her life worthwhile, the refrain reminds us that having a friend was her dream, what she prayed for every night, the source of every good thing in her life and the one thing that made her feel alive.

So, what does this song mean for Penny And Ruby’s characters now and going forward ?

For Ruby, who was the recipient of the song, it’s hard to tell, but I think that the lines about Ruby and Penny being there for and protecting each other give us a hint : Penny failed to make good on her promise for the second time now and left Ruby alone, again. If Ruby’s feelings for Penny are half as strong as Penny’s feelings for her were, this is going to break her, especially now, after everything Ruby went through in just two days and the small breakdown she had with Yang a couple of episodes ago. Ruby is in an emotionally vulnerable state at the moment, she can’t run from her trauma and not address it like she usually does, and she will have to face whatever feelings Penny’s death will ignite in her. Considering her horror and denial when Penny asked her to kill her and take the Maiden powers, learning that Penny still died, after all their efforts to save her, is going to do a number on her.

For Penny and her arc, it is hard to say. On one hand, the end of the song make it sound like Penny is alright and at peace with her death and its circumstances, that she considers it a necessary sacrifice to save her friends, just like what Vine did in the same episode. Both of them were at peace with this decision because they knew it would take an immediate, extreme danger away from their friends and keep them safe for a while. On the other hand, there is still this promise that Penny made to herself/Ruby that she’d always be by Ruby’s side to help her face the world and her problems and the fact that she made good on that promise before by coming back to life, something that Ruby didn’t expect at all, beating the odds once, meaning she might be able to beat them again. It is odd to have a song containing this promise play right after a scene making it clear that the promise was broken for the second time and might not get fixed again if the intent was not to have Penny come back and make good on it once more.

I’ve seen the argument being made that the song is cheery and happy, unlike Cold which sounded like a eulogy, and that this difference might hint toward Penny coming back to life. However, this argument doesn’t seem viable to me because the song, as we’ve seen, focuses on all the happiness that Ruby brought to Penny’s life, how thankful Penny is for it, how that happiness made Penny’s sacrifice worth it and how this brought her peace instead of anguish and regrets. Not to mention that Cold was a song from the point of view of the survivors, not the one who had died : I’m pretty sure that if Friend had been from Ruby’s point of view after learning about Penny’s death, it would have been far less cheery.

So I really don’t know what it all means for Penny, except that her feelings for Ruby are incredibly strong and might be the key to her revival this time, if it happens.

[jasminevolkan]

TIME IN A BOTTLE — self paragraph 001,

& character development TASK #5.

warnings: abandonment issues, divorce, abuse/neglect, death and illness, mentions of christmas, food and alcohol, curse words, jasmine having courage?

JANUARY 1ST 2021, 11:27 am.

Wishes of joy, success and health ended the traditional New Year’s brunch at the Volkan’s residence. Usually, the duo would make this celebration last all day long, but Jasmine had other plans. Instead, she put the leftovers in containers and headed for the exit. She kissed her mother on both cheeks and wrapped her in a tight hug. She earned a pat on the back as a notification she was squeezing her mother’s body too tightly. “Don’t want to let you go,” Jasmine whispered those words like an automatic response. “I’m not going anywhere,” Lana would reply.

They were creature of habits, an inseparable pair. They resembled Russian nestling dolls, there was never one without the other. As years went by, Jasmine grew more and more conscious of the inevitable. She was a star following the moon in a dark night sky, but one day the moon would be swallowed in the void and leave the burning dust nothing but an endless pain, deeper than a black hole. She was no stranger to grief, it did not mean she appreciated the experience. They discussed it often, a little too often to Lana’s liking. Her daughter was so fearless, yet she feared everything in her surroundings. She wished she could fly on her own, but she respected Jas’ desire to circle close to the nest.

They were creature of habits, an inseparable pair. They gifted each other the same thing for Christmas — a holiday they celebrated by choice — however they waited for the first day of the year to open them. Chocolate, candles and promises to spend time together in the future. They made plans to build sandcastles together on a rare calm spot of the beach, where Lana claimed there was a palm tree as old as her daughter. They remembered good and bad events that came out of the previous twelve months.

Usually, they would involve unfortunate recipes or complicated art projects that never came to life. More often than not, they would share a knowing look. The worst that came out of anything was Jasmine’s father. His presence (or lack thereof) impacted them on a daily basis, still. It left a whole in their lives, otherwise complete and satisfying. It fed into Jasmine’s insecurities, it encouraged Lana to relive the constant pain she was in while trying to comfort her daughter. Children to grow old in love and affection. No matter how much love Lana provided, it never seemed to be enough for her daughter.

Love and attention were the same thing as food, for Jasmine. She always craved for more and was afraid she would never get enough.

She walked out of her childhood home and crossed the lawn over to her house. Hidden by the mass of leftovers she carried expertly, she did not notice the box that blocked the door until she bumped her foot against it. She tried to scoot around the obstacle, in vain.

The breeze blew stronger, whipping locks of chocolate brown hair on her face. It sent a wave of goosebumps down her spine. She leaned down to open the box, pulling out stuffed animals, birthday cards and other items she remembered seeing in stores but never having the courage to buy it. Expensive paint brushes and other supplies, sets of gold earrings that sparkled under the sun; the list went on. She picked up a pink bunny, it seemed old and resembled one she had in her oldest memories but could never find again.

Jasmine looked up from the objects, the bunny squeezed tightly against her chest. She frowned and looked around, her mother was not on the porch, the other neighbours were probably asleep or gone. Avalon seemed very quiet, almost surreal.

Surreal like the shadow she noticed standing at the corner of the street. Her eyes squinted and blinked, but they seemed to have washed away the familiar silhouette. Somehow, the bunny felt like it radiated a comfortable warmth. She read the message that was left on the box, the handwriting was printed in her memory.

“I love you. I am sorry it took me your whole lifetime to realize it. Signed, “

The end of the message was scribbled in a whirlwind of blue ink. She had to focus really hard to recognize the three letters. Contrary to the presents or the mysterious figure, the word resonated no familiarity.

“Dad.”

FEBRUARY 14TH 2021, 3:02 AM.

Jasmine kept this a secret, the box and the message. She tried to play it cool, like it did not affect her that her father was trying to build the bridge he destroyed when he left for New York City. She hated New York. She hated bridges. She hated him.

No.

She loved him.

She pulled out a pink gel pen from this same pencil case she carried since high school, it had little doodles and messages written at the back from her friends. She ripped a sheet away from her binder that she used for ideas at work. And she improvised. It usually felt so natural for her, to cross boundaries and to do as she pleased. This time, it was painful and almost impossible to do.

“I loved it when you took me for a drive around the island on nights where I couldn’t sleep. I loved it when you brought me to the candy store after forgetting to pick me up from daycare because you were busy. I loved it when you read stories to me during rainy days so I would be quiet and fall asleep. I loved it when you gave me seashells from all of your work trips, even if they looked identical to those on the beaches down the street. I loved it when you took me to the park and pushed me on the swings just long enough before you got a phone call. I loved it when you wrote notes in my lunch boxes on school days, I saved them all in a bottle of bourbon you left on my night stand that one time you came home as the sun was rising.

I loved it when you acted like a father, even if it was just for a split second.

I love receiving magazines and seeing your name on the front page, congratulating you for all the listings you manage to sell. I love staring at the pages of photos and noticing that I look just like you. I love thinking of new ways to improve myself, because that’s what you would have wanted to. I love thinking you might come back here one day and we can make up for all the time we wasted loathing each other. I love thinking one day we might have a family portrait identical to the one you had in your office of your wife and kids. I love thinking that one day you’ll have one of me with them and hang it on your wall at home. I love thinking that one day, I will get to call you Dad.

I forgive you. I forgive you for leaving mom alone with me. I forgive you for hurting me so much I might just never heal. I forgive you for finding your happiness elsewhere. I forgive you for failing as a father. I forgive you for learning how to do better with your other children. I forgive you for leaving the life you never wanted. I forgive you for having dreams that were larger than what we could give you. I forgive you for breaking the promises you told me of this life where we would be a happy family.

I love you,”

The old pen was running out of ink, so she shook it vividly. She did not bother wiping her tears away, not the stain of pink on her hand that was tinting the paper. She added this short word she had blocked out of her memory all this time. It was just a nickname for all, but for her. She remembered the tone of his voice whenever he said this word, it was calm and posed, loving and caring. He said it rarely, but she could still hear it so clearly.

“Jojo.”

FEBRUARY 14TH 2021, 11:58 PM.

She scrunched the sheets of paper into a ball and threw it on the floor, missing the trash can by two feet at least. She then moved to the couch, grabbing her laptop from the coffee table and logged on her email. Her fingers floated above the keyboard until the screen turned darker. She was looking up to the clock on the wall, watching the seconds fly by.

She took a deep breath, hoping it would slow down time. It had the opposite effect, feeding into this adrenaline rush she desperately tried to repress since the beginning of the year.

She loved him. She never stopped, never will. It would not change. Something needed to change, however, and it was her unhealthy habit of being silent when she needed to speak out the most.

TO: Aleksander Volkan (avolkan@hudsonriverestate.com)

FROM: Jasmine Volkan (iluvicecream@gmail.com)

SUBJECT: Receipts and birthday cards

Fuck you. <3

Minnie pressed the button, and sent the email. She shut her laptop close and ran to the abandoned paper on the floor. She unfolded it and held against her chest, disappearing into a room in the search for an envelope.

She was too far to hear the immediate sound of a response.

TO: Jasmine

FROM: Aleksander

SUBJECT:

I love you too.

[ghoulishhusband]

I just realized I can actually talk here. Like this is my account fuck u

Fucking uhhhhhh, hi ig lemme ramble abt my God ocs yea?

Ignore this part if you don't wanna hear (likely) unedited rambles lol it doesn't matter

CW: neglect/abuse, assholery/narcissism, manipulation, tread lightly!

read the under cut owo

Also don't steal my art I'll fucking?? Fight you????

So

I have three main gods that I wanna talk abt especially bc they've been on my mind lately.. Less get it, side notes are in (parentheses) and are bolded cause I have perception issues whoo I don't want it to jumble together is my point lol

First up is my asshole,

Giodine

they/them (preferred)

god/godself (i like pronouns that fit my characters, so I'm giving a bunch away for one night only at--)

ID : Giodine is colored with gold-ish yellow skin and ginger hair. Their eyes are a muted purple and they have tiny eyebrows. Their lips are a muted brown and are full looking, their nose is sharp and points down. They have wings for ears and is wearing a blazer with a long-sleeved, collared shirt underneath it. The background is beige with a yellow square and a dark purple square partially encompassing it. It is signed GH (for ghoulish husband), Spork, 21.

(lemme know if that helps at all! I'm sure I can do better so lemme know!)

If they look weird here it's bc I accidentally made their face too long but believe it or not this is in fact just a doodle Ik I'm so fuckin talented babes.

Anyways, they're basically the first God to ever exist on my version of earth (though even that is fickle rn, world-building is hard unless I hyper-focus on it, and haha Guess What I Haven't Been Thinking About) and they're very egotistical and selfish. As I'll probably yap about later is how they're manipulative as well, especially to another God I'll mention, and very neglectful to the other... other one.

Their partner(professionally), or fiend as they call him, is sam who for the first few eons was, unsurprisingly, absolutely terrible to him. A few tender moments are few and far in between in what could only be described as a completely rancid relationship. I'll describe giodine's side and in sam's lil ramble, I'll describe his :]

I have to explain this because it's a big part of the lore and how they can't work together, even when one of them is very much near The Void (technical death for gods) BUT basically, with Sam, giodine created purgatory. The issue here is that they basically seduced sam into doing it. Well, even if they hadn't, sam was in lesbians(happy pride month lmao) with giodine and would've done it anyway. But the ISSUE is that with the creation of purgatory came complications. See, my gods have to take time to develop into their power, and considering giodine was first and sam was around 666th.. you see the issue. Sam wasn't into his complete power yet and thus lost a giant part of it that went into purg.

See, giodine saw no problem with this (until much later, they do get a VERY SLOW BURN redemption arc cause this ain't even the worst of it), they got what they were aching for out of them and thusly had no need for..sam. They laid him in the spot where she was made (fwi it isn't inherently sexual, it can be, but literally, they just merged together-- taking bits and pieces of each other (which sam did not have enough of) and earth and light yadda, yadda I'll post the story I wrote for that later if I'm up to it) and left him there in the grass.

Again, they saw no problem with that, the deed was done, they didn't care anymore. A common issue in their qualms, sam and Giodine. They did find an issue in Sam finding an issue in the lack of aftercare, which resorted to any message going to or coming from sam going straight to his assistant and going back through them for a couple of thousand years. They found that infuriating-- how could he not face them over something so small! and for years?! it was ridiculous. After forcing a face-to-face meeting, a heated proclaim of hurt from sam, and a bitter agreement to meet up every now and again, they got what they wanted from him. Again. It was a business after all, there was no point in making it harder than it needed to be. 

Giodine doesn't necessarily like boundaries and tends to overstep sam's frequently. They also don't like his reaction to his boundaries being long jumped over, which thusly ends up in disgruntled messages being sent back and forth between them and his assistant for a month or three. It slowly gets through to them, but they tend to say some stupid shit and if they want sam to stay, they have to try and avoid mentioning how "overly sensitive" he is to something that happened eons ago.

(quick mention, there isn't like. time. here. so in all honesty, giodine probably counted earth days instead of Heaven 'days' to get that) Soon into their arrangements to meet, they seem to get on at least tolerable terms, obviously, a few meetings where neither of them feels like going apeshit and taking proper shapeless (or in sams case, he's got a newfound form for ANGER OO just for giodine 🤗) forms isn't going to fix a grudge that has yet to be apologized for by the way. But it's a start to a very long process down the road. Tolerance.

Giodine as an entity is very fickle and rude and demanding. They tend to have a short temper that no one else is allowed to have or comment on-- They were the first therefore they were the most important!

This is very obviously an issue. But it's mostly directed to purgatory. Almost all of their seething rage is pointed towards the poor entity, she's barely been alive yet and they already seem to hate her for things she doesn't know how to do. Honestly, I don't think Purg will ever fully forgive them for the unnecessary abuse of her character, but just as Sam and Giodine get on better terms, they had barely just begun fixing the hole in their relationship. As of now, Sam/Giodine don't have any minor plot points with purgatory other than the major one so I don't have a lot to say about their relationship right now. Maybe one day.

I'd go into details, seriously, but I just wanna ramble about their relationships with each other and their impact on each other's existence. Hope you don't mind a few secrets 😉

But, now, it's time for a new God, one I think most people take a liking to...

Sam (Samuel)

He/him

ID: Sam is surrounded by clouds in the light blue, fading to a darker blue sky and the yellow sun. His horns are a darker beige, which is being highlighted by the sun shining down on him, he also has pointed ears. His skin is red which is very prominent in the sun. His eyes are completely yellow, his hair, beard and mustache are also black. He has an orange scar crawling up to his Adams apple. His wings are a darker grey which is also being highlighted by the sun. His nails are painted black and his hand is holding up the black fabric barely covering his shoulders. Around the painting is a gold and red shaded frame with swirls complimenting each side and a crystal at the bottom of it. It is lightly signed GH, for ghoulish husband.

Sam, Sam, Samuel.

If you don't realize right away, Sam is basically Satan, he's the ruler of hell

Like how giodine was the first to appear on earth, as mentioned before sam was 666th for funnie reasons. Sam was made from bugs, dried blood, and sunlight which sounds pretty gross, but he's far from it. He's a silly, yet neat, guy. He wears Hawaiian shirts and khakis (not around giodine lmao) for cryin' out loud! how bad of a person can he be? Apparently to giodine (for a while obviously) he was the most retched entity to exist. This very much hurt him considering the amount of fake care they showed him before. With a mixture of confusing feelings (which wasn't supposed to be a thing but Univerce went "lmao you'll be fine" and left... short explanation, Univerce is the Universe and is the entity who simply builds these planets and gods that'll appear there and leave them to their own devices, xyr not extremely important in this story. Nor would they care.) and feeling used, he decided that no he wasn't going to take that.

If there is one thing Sam knows how to do is to self preserve himself, even if that means getting passive-aggressive notes sent to him every once in a while. While this period, Sam was surprisingly the least productive (unfortunately giodine knew this and eventually mentioned it in one of their meetings which made him hide away cause like hell giodine was going to be critical of /him/) but he managed. It wasn't terrible, but unfortunately, Sam being able to talk it out with someone who does practically the same work as he does and gets newer, more helpful ideas was better in the long run.

Unsurprisingly, Sam was the first to initiate the healing of his and giodine's relationship but it wasn't reciprocated. Who would've figured, aye? Giodine kept pushing it back onto him and ignoring any progress that could've been made before. Which was frustrating.

The painting above was 'painted' by giodine, which is sorta where their relationship gets somewhat on an understanding of each other. Giodine gets to take a deep long look into who Sam is and tries to express it but it never fit him, it makes them realize that they never really-- truly got to know him. And all it does for Sam is make him even more confused about his place in giodine’s mind. He figured it's another fluke to get him to do something, so he ends up distancing himself when they start actually reciprocating his friendship advancements.

Suddenly, like a flash, Sam was forced to stay with giodine which is where the majority. I'll explain.

Sam...isn't actually the ruler of hell. Anymore, anyways depending on the timeline. His and purgatory's relationship has always been complicated, she always avoided him, and when they talked she always seemed scared of him. So in the end, they've never been close. Distant. Sam always wanted to talk to her, he made her, but if she didn't want to talk to him he wouldn't force it. But imagine his surprise as Purg singlehandedly took over hell in a hazed frenzy.

And not only that, had a personal vendetta against him!

Well, that would be the only explanation to Sam considering how he ended up broken and barely 'alive' at the hands of her. Horns broken and in tatters, pain and almost obliterated it felt like a hate crime. He didn't know what to do when he made it to the office, Purgatory was creating chaos outside his door and barely being able to breathe he felt like it was the end. So he called giodine. 

Purgatory

She/her

ID: Purgatory is surrounded by flowers that are dark grey and white. The light fades down into a dark green. The light shines down on top of her straight, white hair that has yellow flowers tucked into it.  Her skin is a dark brown and has a orange-ish yellow scar on her shoulder trailing up to her neck. Her skin is also highlighted by the sun. In one of her eyes, her sclera is black with an orangey, glowing iris. As for the other eye it it has a white sclera and the same, glowing orange iris. She has wings for ears, one dark grey and one white along with beige horns. She has a white fabric covering her chest. The frame is gold with white accents, but also has vines and moss crawling up the side. 

(may have goofed a bit and forgot to color the sclera of her other eye white but ignore that pls)

Purgatory was made by Sam and Giodine, but to her it felt like a mistake. Why make someone that you’re going to be terrible to, she believed. Giodine seemed to hate her and eventually made her section almost obsolete because she simply wasn’t able to keep up with the backlog that she wasn’t taught to deal with. Not only that, she didn’t have any help with any of it, it was almost like she was expected to just do it on her own. Until Death came along to help, but that’s not what we’re going to be talking about right now. 

And also, Purgatory is Purgatory yadda, yadda, I wont insult your intelligence.

Giodine’s thought process (other than wanting to be Real Close to Sam and once that thought filtered out, promptly ignored it) was that all the extras that don’t fit in either category of their thought of good and evil they’d go to her. (doesn’t matter cause in Sam's system it filters through ‘levels of assholery’ and depending on how bad you are you either just vibe in the upper city under rule of capitalism and possibly many under paying jobs or being actually tortured for his amusement if you’re just evil. Morally grey. Anyway, it could work p well in heaven if giodine wasn’t such a damn stickler.) But in the end, every day, less and less people ended up in purgatory, leaving her with barely any people and more verbal abuse from giodine who ‘HAS to take them or they would be more dead than they already are’. You see the pain she has to go through, right? 

~Idea section, this is probably not canon anyways so dont take it serious~ 

My thought is that another oc (BA, you may have heard of him idk) takes over simply because Purg took multiple hims from alternative timelines (which isn’t allowed but what’re they gonna do, undead a dead clown? multiple times from multiple timelines???)) because she adored him and they figured ‘well we gotta redo purgatory may as well do it like this’ and make him a demi-dead-god. i think thats a cool idea right? anyhoo

~Idea section over uwu~

Purgatory overall is a fairly timid character, she doesn’t like conflict, is easily overwhelmed, and generally keeps to herself. She doesn’t see the point in being in any drama if she’s just going to be yelled at and scolded even if it’s not about her. The only way i could describe her taking over hell is this: 

She was tired. She was angry and after feeling like nothing was in control or in her hands, she snapped. Why doesn’t she get anything or get to be ‘all powerful’ but they do? She knew if she took on Giodine she’d likely get thrown to the void, but sam? He felt fair game. Considering her fear of both of these gods, she planned and got her courage up to take him over. She had considered negotiations but in the end, she ended up going into a haze and ruining everything in sight. She was more powerful than she thought and once she started, she didn't stop until Death restrained her and Sam was already in pieces at God’s doorstep. 

The aftermath was fuzzy for her and for everyone really. Godine was planning a take back hell while actually worrying for sam, sam was planning for a retirement, and she was being consoled while trying to get in contact with sam to apologize. Giodine wouldn’t dare let her talk to him, until she just showed up in their office. She didn’t have a problem with Sam, honest, she just was going to take shit over, but it got out of control. 

Spoiler, Sam took her apology and they actually became.. somewhat closer after reaching an understanding. 

I wanna say that giodine took them being okay and sam retiring as good as sam did about purg running hell, but they didn’t. Giodine and purgatory actually barely got along in the first place, and only begun ‘working’ on their bitterness toward each other because they both had sam to encourage it. I can’t say for certain if they’ll get better, as theyre both undying and have time, but I’ll just say for now its uncertain. 

Also, Death is Purgatory’s girlfriend after all of that lmao.

And.. yeah, i hope this makes sense and that you like my drawings and ramblings about my lil story in my head, i guess this is my way to develop it without just keeping it to myself cause god forbid i keep things to myself hshsh. If you made it to the end, thank you for taking the time to read and attempting to process everything, and even if you didnt read and just looked to look at my art thank you to!!

I may post some art over on @ghoulishhusbandart cause.. it was my art account before i completely forgot about it but i might reboot it! But if you wan art NEOWWW follow me on insta (ik cringe lmaoo) by the same name as this account @ghoulishhusband​ or just click that insta link! also ignore the fact that giodine is the only one without a portrait, maybe I’ll replace it the next time i draw but im graduating on monday and my dad’s coming TOMORROW?? so i won’t have too much time to do it... but i hope you like my art anyways :]

ok!! ty!! ily!!

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Do you love the blood on my hands? (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Reposting because of the issue with tags.

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios)

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well)

❗ Warnings: angst, strong language, illustrative descriptions of situations full of violence and brutality, might cause distress ❗ Rating: Mature (no doubts about that) Author’s note:  I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

As usual, I might have exaggerated a little bit in the warnings, but I want you to think twice before reading, rather than be responsible for your anxiety later.

This whole one-shot is focusing on Kamilah Sayeed. My main goal was trying to understand the work she had to put in herself and struggles that she faced along with it. To show her transformation from a person that was under Gaius's influence, to the one we get to know when our character meets her in Bloodbound for the first time. Pixelberry Studios showed us our MC's impact on Kamilah throughout the story, but the question remains, what was before that?

I mean, who else would try to write a whole character development in the one-shot fic haha geez, I'm a joke to myself. But at least you have the answer to why this story is so long, and I hope it'll keep you interested from the beginning to its end 💕

~ 3000 words

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

Do you love the blood on my hands?

"You never talk about it."

Words slipped out, getting caught by the air in a flash. As if the world feared that the owner would change her mind, trying to take them back.

The sentence managed to fly ahead, led by the wind in this marvelous evening. Finally, it reached the woman in a burgundy suit standing on the shore. She turned her head a little on the sound of the hushed tones. The brightness of the sun hit behind her, making her figure cut out in comparison to the picturesque sky. She was like a goddess captured by the artist with brush strokes on the background of a peaceful ocean.

"Have you just read my mind, love?" corners of Kamilah's mouth curled up hardly noticeable, her posture full of dignity.

She didn't get to hear the answer, because at that moment the sky absorbed their full attention. Rays of sunshine won their fight between the clouds, reaching the Earth as they desired it all along. The intensity of the light made water shine as if it was covered in millions of diamonds. Both women got lost in that view, admiring it in silence.

Admiring it together.

"I..." Amy smiled, her cheeks took one of the colors straight from the sky. "Sometimes, your thoughts scream so loud, it's hard for me to not listen to them."

The woman turned around fully, facing her beloved one. Warm shades of sunset brightened the dark brown tones of her hair. Her skin shined along with the ocean, making the view truly breathtaking.

"Care to tell what do they scream?" Kamilah sent the girl a soft smile, trying to ease the tension.

They were scratching the surface of her past like the sun that was teasing their skin. It was their favorite part of the day since Amy was turned into a vampire. And that weekend, they were grateful to admire it on the beach while listening to the soothing sounds of water.

"How badly you hate yourself," Amy whispered in response.

Kamilah sighed slightly at those words, at the issue she was avoiding for a lifetime. The one she was keeping inside, not showing her true feelings to anyone. But something about this scenery made her lower her guard as her mind escaped to former times.

"One thought keeps coming back to me since the day I've refused to follow Gaius's orders," Kamilah's stare was empty.

She made her way toward the girl sitting on the ground. Blond strands of her hair were gleaming on top of golden tones of the sand. Her green eyes were standing out among this refined game of colors.

"What thought?" Amy asked, watching her wife closely.

"That there is a huge difference between creating a monster..." She sat down and looked at the clouds as if she prayed that they would cleanse her soul. "And letting someone make a monster out of you."

The guilt took over her body as the words were spoken aloud for the first time. The moment she wanted to close inside herself again, she felt a hand on her back. It was moving slowly up and down, easing woman's pain and adding courage at once. She turned her head at this gesture to look at the girl sitting beside her.

The most powerful ray of sunshine locked in the form of a person.

"I killed people, Amy," her tone was speaking by itself as if she already passed herself a death sentence. "I killed innocents... men and women... old and young... adults and... children."

A single tear flowed down her cheek. And before anyone could catch it, it fell on the sand, burying itself between grains, ashamed of the world to notice it.

To spot this sign of absolute vulnerability.

"I know," Amy's voice cut through the silence. "I know you did all of that, Kamilah," she placed one of her hands under woman's chin. "But I chose my side a long time ago," their eyes met.

The sky above them was slowly losing all the values. As if along with the tones of pinks, blues and brighter, oranges and yellows, all the hope disappeared.

"Amy, don't..." her voice broke. "Don't act like you see the chance for redemption for me," she moved her face away, avoiding her wife's gaze.

"Why not?" Amy's voice was like the opposite of Kamilah's, full of faith.

"Because I don't deserve it," a whisper in response with growing outrage in her tone. "Because you can't possibly comprehend what a cruel person I was back then," she looked at those green, light eyes, with the darkness inside her own.

They were left alone on the shore. But there was much more to both of them than to the entire crowd of people.

"Exactly, so let me see it by myself," Amy lifted her hand for the woman to take it.

"I can't," Kamilah shook her head in despair. "I can't take you there."

Her voice grew weaker with every word. As if the last piece of her spirit was shying away from her body. It was making its way on the sky, resting there in the form of stars, gleaming from above.

"Just let me in," Amy said, keeping her hand lifted, the offer still open. "And I'll do the rest."

Despite the previous hesitation, the moment her eyes met again with Amy's, Kamilah had no doubts left. It felt so natural. To entrust her memories and darkest secrets with the love of her life.

So she placed her hand on top of hers. And a spark traveled through both of them right after their skin grazed.

Some indefinable power took them inside Kamilah's mind. On a journey, leading them toward the darkness that was impossible to avoid there.

***

Taste of blood.

Liquid of the intense shade of red was slowly running down from the corner of the woman's mouth. She pulled back from her victim, just to admire the sensation for a tiny bit longer. To cherish the feeling of his mortal body weakening in her embrace.

She felt more powerful than ever. The life of innocents in her hands. The same ones from which the blood was dripping on the ground at her feet.

It was up to her how many of those villagers died that night. How much pain they did suffer before that happened. How loud their screams were when she was ripping them apart.

Her creator Gaius enjoyed them screaming loud. He absolutely loved performing a show for those who dared to enter the village during the attack. Who considered themselves strong enough to fight back.

And finally, for those who ended bowing before him and begging for mercy.

Mercy that they were never about to get from this man. Because hope was like a toy in his hands. Known as the greatest weapon of all times.

"How does it taste, my queen?" man's voice echoed behind her.

But the woman that Amy was observing on the side didn't answer. Instead, she dipped her fangs in the neck of the young man, sucking the life out of him. For a second, his body moved in convulsion, just to lay down still on the ground after she was finished.

Just to join the rest of the dead bodies that were spread all over the village.

"It tastes like fear," Kamilah stood up, looking at the victim with disgust. "I hate drinking the blood of cowards."

Amy lifted her hands to her own mouth, trying to hold back a scream. The scenery around her seemed to be cut out straight from the horror movie. And yet, it was the past of her beloved one.

The intensity of the pain that she sensed from this place outgrew her worst expectations. The whole memory was filled with darkness and cruelty, which she was able to experience by watching the death of innocents.

"I'm aware that's not up to our standards," the man moved closer to Kamilah. "But we will get what we deserve," he cleaned the blood around her mouth. "We will take over the world," a sly smile appeared on his face.

"Together."

***

"No, please," Kamilah cried out, trying to push the girl away. "You were supposed to look at this, not me."

"Kamilah," she kept her eyes closed, trying to maintain the connection. "I don't want to force you into seeing this, but I really think you should."

The woman was drowning in the ocean, filled with guilt and embarrassment. The walls she built around herself for hundreds of years were slowly falling apart as she was left with no other choice than to give up.

"I can't face him. I can't meet the people I've murdered," she wept in desperation once again.

"Trust me, please," tears started flowing down Amy's cheeks as her own feelings linked to Kamilah's. She managed to keep herself focused when the command left her mouth, "now, we're going to walk."

They stood up slowly on the sand, while their spirits jumped into the next memory.

***

Bloodshed.

A stranger flew over the tables, landing on the other end of the bar. Loud coughing filled the room along with the pungent scent of blood, which hit Amy's nose rapidly. She looked around, taking in the surroundings of the scene.

Wooden chairs and tables were broken, spread all over the floor in the place she found herself in. She spotted an enormous amount of shattered glass. Alcohol was flowing down of the broken bottles, dripping on the floor.

Getting mixed up with the blood that once was running in the veins of those people. Humans that were stiff on the floor in unnatural positions, lacking any form of life.

"Just get it over already!" a loud scream echoed inside the building.

A throaty voice was coming from a middle-aged man, probably a bartender. He was the owner of this cursed place that unluckily happened to be the next destination of a Vampire Queen's crusade.

The woman moved forward, getting rid of the tables on her way with just one hand as if their weight meant nothing for her. Her eyes were flashing with the intense shade of crimson at anyone who dared to look at her directly.

"What are you?!" the bartender managed to lift himself up with difficulty, spitting out blood. "Who the fuck kills so many people in just a few seconds?!"

He was staying upright in front of her. As if the image he witnessed, the woman with red eyes and fangs, made no impression on him. As if seeing the death of his friends and customers was enough to make him believe in anything.

To make peace with the upcoming end.

"I believe it should be the last of your concerns," Kamilah whispered in her icy tone.

Amy watched the woman moving closer to the victim. She quickly recognized her fully prepared for attack posture.

"You kill me, and then what?" Thoughts escaped to his family, "you will deprive my wife of a husband, my children of a father," his voice broke along with his spirit. "You will be the one to bear the guilt of this for eternity."

Amy noticed a tiny difference in the expression on Kamilah's face. At the same moment, she sensed the change that occurred in the whole memory. The darkness associated with it seemed to fade away as the lightness peeked into it.

Her wife's features softened like those words moved something inside her. As if Kamilah didn't even consider this possibility before. As if the idea of suffering the consequences wasn't meant for her.

But as soon as the metamorphosis appeared, the equally fast it vanished into thin air.

"Maybe I will," she said, tilting her head to the side, licking her lips. "But as you so rightly pointed out," she reached the man, tightening the grip on his throat. "You're going to be long dead until then."

***

"I can't," the woman kept begging, sweat on her forehead.

Their feet touched the water that appeared to be salvation at that very moment. The ocean was cooling them both down, strengthening the connection as they were falling further into its grasp. The sky above them became dark far sooner, and the moon stayed as their only companion in this journey for forgiveness.

"One more," Amy's voice slipped away, wandering on the surface of the water.

It was fading away little by little, the same as her presence until darkness fell on them this one last time.

***

Blood lust.

She tried her best to regain control, to follow Adrian's rules. To cut down drinking blood to just from those who agreed on it. And never to the point of killing a person.

Humans are our priority, we need to protect them.

Those were Adrian's words that kept flashing back as she was holding the woman pinned against the wall in the dark alley. All weak and miserable, not able to struggle, to fight back. The only thing left was to kill her, to take the sip of the blood she desired so badly.

Kamilah lost her battle once more.

She remembered going outside for a walk as she always did after the sun went down. And it must have happened again, she must have blacked out. And as every time before, she snapped out of it right before causing another death.

At the very moment, she wasn't able to control herself anymore.

She needed to feed, she wanted to kill.

Amy was standing on the other side of the alley, watching her in silence. She was so sure that this memory was crucial in the journey on which she took Kamilah with herself. She wanted to believe that it was the moment of her change.

An actual call for redemption.

"Mommy?" a faint voice reached them from behind.

"Sweetheart..." the woman managed to cough up, her vocal cords were struggling under the grip. "Don't...please...run...away!"

But her attempts went to waste since Kamilah turned around immediately, facing the little girl. She let go of her previous victim, not bothering about the intensity of the fall that fractured her ribs. The vision went blurry before the woman's eyes, but she gathered all the strength she had left and focused on saving her daughter.

"Stay away from her!" a heartbreaking scream traveled through the alley.

But Kamilah kept getting closer to the child, moving smoothly and quietly like a predator approaching its prey. But this time, something seemed wrong. With each step, thirst for blood was weakening, along with the realization that was forming itself inside her head.

"Mommy?" the same word, followed by growing fear.

The little girl in front of Kamilah might have been six years old at best. She was too young and innocent to understand what was happening there.

But at the same time, old enough to stay by her mother's side. Old enough to show loyalty and understand love.

Love...

"Please, don't harm her," the woman cried out, unable to move.

That's when something moved inside Kamilah's heart.

The guilt spread all over her chest. Years of killing... thousandths of victims...

It all hit her at once, forcing her legs to bend. Her body to fall on the knees before this little human being.

She got lost in the view of those teary eyes of the child. The ones in which she saw something she had never considered before... a future.

A life that she had the power to end,

to step on,

crush it completely, leaving nothing behind.

And this power frightened Kamilah for the first time.

For the first time, she showed mercy.

***

"It's over," Amy held the woman sobbing in her arms.

The ocean was reflecting the beauty of this starry night in its smooth like a mirror surface. Accepting all the tears, letting them mix with the water, to pass into oblivion.

"You saw me there," Kamilah said, pulling back. "You saw what a monster I am," she swallowed, feeling the blood of the people she killed in her throat.

The girl moved her hand slowly to Kamilah's face, choosing silence. She caressed her cheek with tenderness, feeling the tension leaving her wife's body under her touch.

"I saw much more," Amy's voice was shaky, but she knew what needed to be said. "I can't deny the truth, Kamilah. You caused the suffering of many people," she found woman's hands under the water. "But their deaths must not be in vain. You can make them mean something, and you're already doing that."

"How..." Kamilah's eyes were letting go of all tears that she held back for such a long time.

"You've changed," Amy lifted their hands above the water, fingers entwined. "You've saved a lot of people, you've saved me. And those hands," she lifted them higher. "The blood will keep showing up, reminding about itself," their eyes met, shining like stars. "But I'm here to help you wash it off every single time it happens."

Amy kissed the knuckles of her wife's hands. She moved on the top of it, leaving the path of soft kisses on her skin. Her tears were flowing down as if they were the key to wash away all the guilt.

To bring peace, even for a moment.

"We can do this," Amy looked at her with eyes full of understanding and patience. "Together."

Kamilah took in what she had heard hundreds of years before. The letters that preached to be the beginning of her dream life but in the end turned out to be poisonous.

That time she knew it would be different. She trusted with all her heart that her wish would be fulfilled.

So a single word slipped out, drifting on the surface of the ocean to reach her beloved.

"Together."

[fifteenskies15]

Twisted Kaguya Hime

(Tokito Muichiro x Demon! Reader)

Summary: Demons and humans never belong together, so does demon slayer and their enemy

Admin's Note: Wow, clearly I'm on roll today, I published two stories in one day, anyways, I have come back with Muichiro's content to feed to you all Muichiro stans, this might be kinda angst since reader will be a demon unde Kokushibo control but they manage to develop a feelings for Muichiro, but let's pretend that Koku had met Mui and that Muichiro have grown up now (approximately 18-20 y/o) here, as per usual, this story is gender neutral

Also, Muichiro might be a bit lovestruck here

"Muichiro...let me tell you a little story..."

"What is it mom?"

"This is a tale of a beautiful princess called, princess Kaguya... Once upon a time... There was an old and poor bamboo cutter called Taketori no Okina, he and his wife didn't have a child and they live in poverty..."

"One day, the old man Taketori found a shining bamboo stalk he cutted it and do you know what he saw? It's a baby girl in size of his thumb, old man Taketori was so elated, he and his wife raised her like she was their daughter and not only that, there's a small gold nugget inside, so... Taketori and his wife is no longer live in poverty, and their daughter, Kaguya has grown up into a woman with an extraordinary beauty..."

"This is the part where Kaguya get her lover, right mom?"

"Many hopeful youngsters did wanted to take Kaguya as their wife, but alas she rejected them all, even with five princes lined up to offer her hand of marriage, she rejected them all regardless, the emperor Mikado is also fell in love with the beautiful princess Kaguya, but alas she's also rejected him, saying that she cannot stay in the palace, but they stay in contact together"

"But do you know, Muichiro? Every summer night when it's full moon, Princess Kaguya is always crying, her adoptive parents were greatly concerned about her, but she was unable to say what's wrong to them, until she revealed that she was not of this world and must return to her people on the Moon..."

"So that means she had to left her parents?"

"Sadly yes... Kaguya hime loves her parents and her friends in earthly being friends, she was very sad but this has to be done...the Earth is not where she belongs, however, the capital of the moon is where she belongs..."

"Even so... Kaguya always missed the protectorate and the kind humans that see her of who she is..."

------

"Muichiro..."

...

"Muichiro..."

...

"Muichiro, my dear...are you okay?"

Muichiro tear his gaze away from the moon and turn his attention to you.

A demon...

But you're more than just a demon to him and he's more than just a human to you, even though you're a demon, a being he should be hated, obliterated and sent to hell, you manage to develop a feeling towards him

...Somehow...

Somehow he manage to grow something inside you, inside your soulless and supposed to be numb body

It's none other than love...

It's been quite a while since you feel something like this, or maybe because it's the first time you feel this, all emotions you could ever remember is sadness and rage especially what your family had done to you back then...

"Fufu... You have been gazing upon the full moon, is everything okay?"

Muichiro just give you a smile "Ah, just remembered the tale my mom used to tell when I was a kid..."

"Enlighten me..."

Muichiro rest his chin on his hand, smiling at you "The tale of Princess Kaguya"

A warm smile spread on your face "Ah, I have heard that story from an old couple I met once, it's sad that Princess Kaguya had to go back to the moon to join her people..."

Muichiro nodded, looking wistful "If she's real, I wonder what she's thinking about the humanity now..."

You didn't care much about humans (except for him, of course) but you know exactly what he meant "I don't mean to be presumptuous, but she could be weeping at how humanity change in a terrible way..."

Muichiro nodded and sighed "either it demons and people the Earth is not the same as she remembered, it's quite sad when you think about it..."

"Mmh... My so called parents are one of those people," you said laying down on the grass while looking at the moon "Poor Kaguya had to face the reality of how this world is soiled"

Muichiro lay down next to you, his mint colored eyes find your (E/C) ones "Say (name) if you are Princess Kaguya and I'm the lucky man who manage to have you as my wife/husband, but you're still had to go to the moon what will you say or do?"

You looked at him with a smile and looked at the moon "even if the heavenly beings told me to stay with them, I will not listen to them, that's probably sounds bold and too forward, but what can I say?" You grabbed his hand as your fingers intertwined.

"I'm head over heels for you, and if I'm being forced to go to the moon, I will make my way just to see you even if it means I had to rope the Earth closer to the moon"

Muichiro smiled warmly at you as he gripped your hand tighter "I would too... I know you're a demon but I can't help but having strong feelings towards you..."

He sighed and looked at the moon again "It as if it was yesterday I almost killed you, I mean, well, you did almost slaughter entire village, I don't even know what came into me and... Well... Here we are, being closer and didn't care about who we are..." He said, his face illuminated by the moon.

"If...if there is a chance you could become a human again...(Name)...will you..."

Muichiro stopped, he seems unsure about continuing his word and this is so not like him, is he...being nervous? Agitated even?

"Will I... what, Muichiro?"

He took a deep breath, he sat up then look at you, directly into your eyes "I know it's been a half of year since we met but... I have been thinking... I don't want to lose you just yet, so...will you marry me?"

You widen your eyes, and you have strange feeling inside your chest...

Was it your heart beating?

...How?

How is it possible?

But you couldn't help it and you smiled...

"Muichiro..."

"Well, isn't that sickeningly sweet?"

All too familiar voice cutted you before you could say yes, and to see upper moon one.

Your creator, Kokushibo.

"Kokushibo-sama!" Your body went autopilot and bowed at him, Muichiro just froze, but it's obvious his eyes are gleaming with rage

"Now it's clear why you have been disappearing lately" his eyes looked at Muichiro who looked like he's veins about to pop, Muichiro gritted his teeth as he saw an upper moon in front of his eyes "You have been doing some disgusting thing with my descendant, I see... That behavior is clearly not something to be forgiven"

Kokushibo slowly unsheathed his sword and glaring down at you "You're awfully aware that his Lordship is not pleased with your tomfoolery, (name)..."

You gulped and freeze in fear, you have once got the taste of a punishment from your Creator and you can't imagine when his master knows about what have you been doing behind his back, before you know it, his grotesque looking sword were swung towards your head and to be blocked by Muichiro.

"Like hell I would let you touch her/him, I don't care if you're an upper moon, but if you touch her/him, I won't hesitate to fight you here and now..."

"M-Muichiro..."

Kokushibo looked at his descendant in amusement, he manage to parry his attack, causing Muichiro backed away from the impact.

"How valiant, you think you have what it takes to defeat me?"

Muichiro disregard him and looked at you "(name), are you alright, my dear?" You just nod, a warm tears trickle down from your (E/C) eyes, Kokushibo just clicked his tongue and hit Muichiro's pulse point

"Muichiro!!"

He nonchalantly stepped over him and grabbed you by your collar, as he glared at you

"(Name), I'm sure you're aware that this place is not for you and no longer your home, and on the note, humans and demons doesn't belong together..." He said as he glowered at you, you swore you could hear venom dripping from his words "...and whether you like it or not, you don't belong to him" Kokushibo said pointing at the unconscious Muichiro, and pointed his sword on his chest.

"Even though he's my descendant, my kin, he's the enemy of his Lordship, I won't hesitate to kill him right in the spot" he pressed the tip of his sword as if he was going to pierce his sword through Muichiro's beating heart.

"I'm still merciful enough because I like you (name), it's your choice... Come with me and I'll let him live... For now...or..." He pressed his blade slightly harder that blood sapping out, slowly tainted his uniform "No, no, no!! Don't kill him, please!! I will come with you, but please spare him, Kokushibo-sama!"

Kokushibo looked at you then put his sword back to his sheath, walking towards you with a smile, it's rather mocking... "It wasn't so hard now wasn't it?" He said as he put his hand on your cheek

"And I am a man of my word, I won't kill him, at least for now, and you..." He paused for a bit "...you will stay with me till that day comes" he turn his heel and looked at the sky, "The moon is beautiful, but as beautiful as it is, in few hours the moon will sink and the sun will rise, we better go unless you wanted a worse death than being killed by his Lordship"

Honestly you would rather die because of the sunshine than come with him (despite the fact he's your creator) but if it means he kept Muichiro stay alive...

Then you had no choice

You looked back at Muichiro's unconscious form and teared up slightly, and dropped something in purpose as you followed Kokushibo to fortress of infinity...

"I'm sorry, Muichiro..."

----

Few hours pass, Muichiro came back to his senses, he jolted awake and looked around "(Name)?! (name)!! Where are you?!" He winced when he felt sting on his chest.

"That bastard..."

He looked around for you and to see something gleaming under the moonlight

It's your amulet necklace...

He took it and looked at it, it has (F/F), hollyhock and ginko leaves symbol on it, he remembered the day you showed it to him

"See this amulet, Muichiro? I made it myself, I added the ginko leaves because for some reason it reminded me of you..."

"Oh really? And I could guess that (F/F) is your favorite flower... Is that supposed to be the symbol of our unification?"

"Maybe? Okay, yeah, maybe it is..."

Somehow he could feel sadness radiating off the inanimate object he's currently holding.

He knows...

He knows that you won't see each other from now on.

"(Name), my love..."

A single tear fell on the amulet as he gripped on it, sadness replaced with rage as he gaze upon the imposing, full moon

"Just like princess Kaguya, you left me to be somewhere you belong to..."

He looked at the amulet as he remembered that tonight is the last night he see you

"Just like princess Kaguya, someone take me away from you just like how they separate her from the emperor..."

He put the amulet around his neck and gripped his sword

"Of all the things had happened, I will twist the tale, just you wait, my dear..."

His once full of life mint eyes turn back into his lifeless one but it gleamed with desire and vengeance

"I will came to you, and make sure you fall into my arms once again..."

----

Admin 15: Oh damn, Mui is a lovestruck yandere in the end,....and I kinda live for it, maybe I should make something with yandere trope for my next story, hehe

Anyways, I'm so sorry that this story make no sense, I might be on roll but I guess I'm being overexcited about it

[chantillyxlacey]

Holiday Spirits Gift! An OT3 mer-AU in a series of vignettes

Merry Xmas @fishbones-wishbones!! I had so much fun writing this! Your prompt was about as tailor-made for me as it could possibly be lol-- I may have gone a little overboard with it, to the point where it might not even stop with what I’ve got written here-- I’m highly tempted to spin off these vignettes into a long-form fic-- thank you so much for the inspiration!! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :3 Merry Christmas!

One: In Which Vivi and Arthur have become castaways

Vivi woke up sunburnt, sore, and salt-crusted, the taste of that same awful stuff burning her mouth. The last time she’d woken up to comparable discomfort had been the day after she’d been arrested by the Regnate’s men-- but no matter how unpleasant the waking up was, it did at least mean that she hadn’t drowned. ‘I’m still alive’ was always a good square one to start from.

Despite easing her eyes open slowly, the bright nearly-noon sunlight still stung like needles, so harshly that her optimism was nearly overcome by the urge to just roll over and go back to sleep for awhile. She valiantly resisted the temptation and sat up, ignoring the aching protests of what had to be every individual bone, muscle, and tendon she had to her name.

Even breathing scraped at her lungs and aggravated her rib cage, but the air was fresh and clean, and with each breath the fog cleared from her head more and more. The more sensible she felt, the more miraculous it seemed that she had really made it to see today. She’d more or less resigned herself to death last night, though she’d refused to just give herself up to it for as long as she had the strength to cling to that swath of wood with--

“Arthur!” she gasped, prepared despite her weariness to launch to her feet and scour the beach inch by inch to find him-- but that didn’t turn out to be necessary. He was sprawled on the sand right beside her, still unconscious but clearly breathing.

He looked about as worse for wear as she felt: his skin was an angry red from the sun and peppered with bruises and scrapes from the impact that had scuttled the ship. When she leaned down to shake him gently, trying to rouse him, she could see salt crystals clinging to his eyelashes.

“Arthur-- hey, Arthur!” she called softly, and after a moment he started to stir, a thin groan ekeing between his lips. It turned into a sharp hiss through his teeth when he tried to open his eyes-- Vivi didn’t know if it was the sun or the salt that had stung him more.

She helped him to slowly sit up, and couldn’t stifle a laugh at the way his hair had dried into stiff peaks that stood almost completely vertically.

“If you’re laughing at me that’s a good sign I’m not dead, I guess,” he rasped, then coughed and rubbed at his eyes.

“You guess right!” Vivi thumped him lightly on the arm, careful to avoid his sunburn. “Congratulations on not drowning!” He laughed at that, though it still sounded a bit like a cough.

“How--?” he asked.

“No idea!” Vivi said cheerfully, and he grinned at her for a moment before turning to stare pensively out at the sea.

“Okay then-- What do we do from here?” he asked.

“No idea,” she said, more soberly. She’d read her share of stories about shipwrecked adventurers, but how much could those stories help them through the real ordeal? “We’ll figure things out as we go, I guess.” She willed confidence into the words. Arthur hummed softly, still watching the waves.

His brow furrowed and he squinted, then suddenly shot to his feet, craning his neck and shading his eyes from the sun.

“What is--? Vivi, do you see that?”

“See what--?” Before she even finished asking she spotted it too-- a huge, fast-moving shadow under the water’s surface several yards out from the shore. Distance and the blinding glitter of the sun on the waves made it impossible to guess what it might be, and within moments it vanished entirely, fading into the endless blue.

“What do you suppose…?” Arthur murmured, more to himself than to her. Vivi shrugged, more to herself than to him. For awhile they watched the sea bob and roll, but the shadow did not reappear.

.

Two: In which Vivi and Arthur explore

The myriad of books Vivi had read about exotic locales, swashbuckling novels and natural histories alike, combined with Arthur’s practical experience travelling served them rather well as they took stock of their surroundings.

It was an island, or could loosely be called that at least; they’d swept up on what seemed to be a ring of clusters of sand and marsh, held together by tree roots that started several feet before ground level, as though the trees themselves were balanced atop scuttling insect legs. Vivi had read about mangrove forests like this one, but had never seen so much as an illustration before and hadn’t imagined just how eerie the whole tableau turned out to be; Arthur had seen them before but had never learned the name.

The marsh ring wrapped around a lagoon where the water was the clearest, most shining blue Vivi had ever laid eyes on. To their great surprise it turned out to be entirely fresh, despite opening up into the mangroves in several places, where seawater should have been able to leak in and render it too brackish to safely drink. They weren’t about to dwell on the impossibility though; instead they drank until the burn in their throats cooled and the taste of brine was washed from their mouths.

No longer distracted by thirst, they contemplated the second, smaller island nestled in the center of the lagoon. It looked to be real, solid land rather than marsh, but it was difficult to tell: trees clustered there even more densely than in the mangrove, trailing weeping curtains of leaves to brush the water’s surface and shroud the little island from sight.

“I’ve never seen trees that look like these before…” Arthur murmured. “Have you ever read anything about something like that?”

“I’ve read about trees with colorful bark before,” she answered. “But in greens and reds, not blue. And I’ve never heard of a tree with white leaves at all.”

The lagoon was too deep to wade across, but not too wide to swim-- or it wouldn’t have been if they weren’t still tired and aching from the shipwreck, and not too keen on getting into the water again from the same. They’d have to investigate it later, after they took care of the more pressing need to find food and a place to take shelter.

When they returned to the beach they’d woken up on, Arthur’s arms laden with fruit picked from various of the island’s trees (none of which should be growing in a mangrove; but again, they weren’t about to look any gift horses in the mouth, no matter how impossible they were) and Vivi’s with bits of dry wood for a fire, they were surprised to find that more had washed onto the shore while they were away.

Swathes of sailcloth of varying sizes were heaped just out of reach of the rolling surf, along with a mismatched pile of tools, two knives, several planks of wood and lengths of rope, and one badly dented tin bowl. Strangest of all, though, was the large fish stranded far enough up on the sand that it couldn’t have scuttled itself there, still alive and twitching weakly.

“There’s no way this happened just on accident,” Vivi said.

“No…” Arthur agreed, sounding nervous. Vivi didn’t blame him-- if anyone else from the ship had survived and made it to the island as well-- They wouldn’t be terribly thrilled to share a sanctuary with a prisoner and a traitor to be sure, and neither of them were in much of a state to put up a fight. 

“We should get back into the trees,” Arthur said, clearly thinking along the same lines. “And just wait and see-- right?” He was already backing up as he spoke, and Vivi followed.

They waited amongst the strange, ghostly roots until the first lavender tinges of sunset crept into the sky and the fish had long since stopped moving. No one came, but they crept back out into the open with caution anyway.

“Arthur, look--” Vivi gestured at the sand when she’d put the firewood down. “There’s no footprints.” “That’s-- Hm. That’s worse somehow, actually. So... what does that mean, exactly? Did a ghost do all this, or what?”

“Thoughtful ghost,” Vivi mused, starting to arrange the firewood and shave off some bark to catch sparks. “Do you know how to cook fish?” “Uh.”

“We’ll figure that out as we go, too,” Vivi laughed.

The fish ended up unevenly cooked, but they were too hungry to care much, and it tasted alright anyway. They ate their fill and slept like the dead.

.

Three: In which Vivi and Arthur develop routines

The days passed much like the first-- they foraged and tried their luck fishing, and they built a fairly sturdy lean-to between some of the more tightly packed trees, which they shared. The first few times they had woken up to find that the chill of the night had nudged them into each other’s arms as they slept had been awkward, but now they were so used to it that they dropped all pretense, and fell asleep holding one another from the start.

There was plenty of opportunity to explore the central island once their lingering aches subsided, but they never did. Something about it was-- offputting. It had the air of an intensely private place, and even Vivi’s usually insatiable curiosity was cowed in the face of its forbidding aura. They ventured into the lagoon itself to bathe, but never past the deepest point.

Each day also saw a new cache of useful flotsam awash on the sand where they had first woken up: more boards and rope, metal utensils, and one especially lucky morning,  one of the smaller iron cookpots from the galley. Something like that could never have just floated up on its own, but they never saw any sign of whoever it was helping them.

Their anonymous angel also left them food. Sometimes it was another fish, sometimes a pile of live clams left in a pit full of seawater dug into the sand, and once a pile of seaweed that Vivi had vaguely recalled could be boiled to make a broth. Whoever it was, they never left any footprints, or any other evidence of their existence but their gifts.

“Maybe it is a ghost,” Vivi mused one evening as she dug a roasted clam out of its shell with a twig.

“What kind of ghost would be so interested in feeding a couple of castaways?” Arthur wondered back, taking a gulp of the sweet water they had recently discovered was hidden inside the hard green fruits that grew on some of the island’s trees closer to the shore. Vivi chewed her clam thoughtfully, but ultimately had no answer beyond a hum and a shrug. 

“Getting better at cooking these,” she said instead, reaching for another. “Not that you’d know.” She wrinkled her nose at Arthur, who preferred to eat his raw. Vivi found it detestable. He grinned at her, unrepentant, and held the palm fruit out to her. She drained the last mouthful, then flopped against Arthur with a sigh and hooked one arm into the crook of his elbow, sliding the other around his waist.

She couldn’t be absolutely certain, between the night’s darkness and the orange cast of the firelight, but she’d be more than willing to bet that the color in Arthur’s face wasn’t just from sunburn. She snuggled closer and closed her eyes, smiling to herself when she felt Arthur’s cheek lean against the top of her head.

They sat like that for awhile, warm from more than just the fire, and listened to the night sounds. Vivi spent a few minutes weighing the pros and cons of letting go of Arthur long enough for her to lean up and kiss him. She gradually became aware of a new sound-- something that stood apart from the sigh of the waves and the rustle of leaves, and shook her from her thoughts. Arthur shifted, raising his head as though listening too.

“Artie? Are you… singing?” She already knew the answer before he shook his head-- the sound was distant, so far away that it had to be coming from out at sea. “Could that be a whale? I’ve read that they sing but I never thought I’d get to hear it-- Can you hear whalesong from shore like this?”

“You can,” Arthur said distractedly, staring out at the waves with his brow furrowed. “But I’ve never heard any whale that sounded like this before, though… This sounds too much like…”

“It sounds like a person singing, right? Maybe a ship…” She didn’t finish the thought. The moon was full and fat tonight, and if a ship had been so close they should be able to see it, but nothing interrupted the smooth, dark line of the horizon.

“Most captains are smarter than to risk their ships sailing through this part of the sea,” Arthur murmured. The captain of the Morgause had thought himself above those stories, and everyone but the two of them had paid for it dearly.

.

Four: In which Vivi and Arthur meet someone interesting

Whatever she’d thought they’re mysterious benefactor would be like-- she’d never have guessed he was a real-- living, breathing, real and right there-- merman.

He was enormous; had he been a man standing on two legs he would have been at least ten feet tall, even if she estimated on the conservative side. The broad, sinuous tail that trailed in the surf behind him was nearly that long all on its own, covered in ink-dark scales that glittered with startling violet iridescence where the sun hit. White stripes marched along its length, looking for all the world like he’d simply had ribs painted on. 

His huge hands, each big enough to cover Vivi’s entire torso, were webbed and the fingers tipped in blunt claws, but they handled the gift they’d left for him with utter delicacy. Pale slashes of gills lined his sides, standing out starkly against his brown skin. Other than those details however, from the waist up he looked remarkably ordinary.

Well-- perhaps ‘ordinary’ wasn’t the right word. Remarkably human was probably more accurate; ‘ordinary’ simply didn’t take into account just how astonishingly... appealing his appearance was. Even with half his face covered by an overhang of dark violet hair, Vivi could already tell that he had to be the most attractive man she’d ever seen in her life. Arthur looked just as gobsmacked as she felt, standing beside her and looking down at the same impossible figure on the beach.

“Are you--” Vivi started to call out, and the merman’s head snapped up, his face a mask of shock for a single moment before it-- disappeared.

That handsome, almost-entirely-human face was replaced in an instant with a fanged skull, twin sparks of magenta burning in the empty sockets where eyes should belong. Arthur yelped a curse and tried to scrabble backwards so fast that the powdery sand under his feet gave way and he crashed down on his back. Vivi sucked in a gasp, but it was more amazement than fear.

“Wait!” she called, darting forward even as the merman started to retreat backwards into the surf. “Please, wait-- don’t go just yet!”

As she got closer, she realized that he hadn’t actually shape-shifted or dissolved into shadow and bone-- his skin had simply changed colors, as she’d read certain sea creatures were able to do. Most of his color had deepened to a shade nearly identical to his tail, with patches leeched of color in shapes that mimicked a skeleton.

The patterns faded and his skin returned to human tones as she approached; his eyes, however, remained the same. The whites weren’t white, but as black as his pupils, and the irises were vividly pink. The look in them was guarded and uncertain.

“Was--” She paused. There was no guarantee he’d understand her. There was no reason to assume he could speak English, or any human language at all-- but what else could she do but at least try to communicate? “Was it you who’s been helping us?”

For a moment she thought he didn’t understand, and felt a stab of dismay at how to bridge a language gap that vast-- but then he nodded, face still tight with wariness. “You rescued us, too, didn’t you?” Another nod, although there was an odd hesitation to it, his eyes downcast in something almost like-- shame?

“Did you sink the ship?” Vivi gaped at Arthur, who by now had stood back up and come to her side, aghast that he’d jump to that conclusion. When she looked back to the merman, however, he nodded again.

“It came too close to the island,” he lamented. His voice surprised her: a soft tenor that didn’t seem like it should belong to someone so huge and imposing looking, and laced through with an accent she couldn’t quite place. As he spoke, she could see sharp, triangular teeth flashing behind his lips like pearls. “I’m tasked by My Lady to keep any intruders away, by any means necessary.”

“Why save us, then?”

“You didn’t deserve to drown. You kept each other afloat through the storm, you helped each other even though it put your own safety at risk.” He sounded as though he was reasoning it out to himself as much as explaining to them. “I couldn’t just… Duty or not, I couldn’t just let you die.”

Vivi and Arthur shared a glance. Neither of them were quite sure how to respond. After an uncomfortable silence, the merman offered back the amulet they had made. Vivi blinked.

“You don’t like it?” she blurted.

“N-no-- that isn’t it. I thought you would want it back. That you wouldn’t want to give a gift to someone who…”

“Someone who saved our lives, and has been looking out for us ever since?” Vivi offered.

“Your lives wouldn’t have needed saving if it hadn’t been for me.”

“We kind of needed saving before the ship sank, to be honest,” Arthur said. “There wasn’t anything good waiting for a couple of prisoners when we made port.” “Prisoners?” He sounded horrified.

“Vivi was arrested unfairly and I got caught trying to help her escape. That kind of mutiny gets you hanged-- If it hadn’t been for the storm they probably wouldn’t even have waited ‘til we came ashore.” “I’m sorry,” the merman murmured.

“You don’t have to be. Like I said, you saved our necks.” Arthur offered a wry half-smile, but the merman still looked unsure.

“What’s your name?” Vivi knelt on the sand before him-- even lying on his belly and sunk low in shame, his gaze was even with hers.

“My-- what?”

“Oh--” Vivi wondered if she’d just asked something incredibly stupid, or perhaps even insensitive. “Do you… have a name? Something you call yourself?”

“Yes, of course,” he said, still sounding completely baffled. “I’ve just-- I’ve never had to introduce myself to someone before. My name is Lewis.” It was an astoundingly ordinary name for a mythical-- or supposedly mythical-- being to have. Vivi had to stifle a laugh that was wholly inappropriate for the moment, but she did smile at him.

“Thank you for saving our lives, Lewis.”

He ducked his head again, though this time it seemed more like a flustered movement than an ashamed one.

“You’re… welcome,” he mumbled.

The rest of the afternoon was spent sitting on that beach, trading further introductions and asking Lewis questions about the island.

They learned that the smaller central island, which they still hadn’t yet dared to explore, housed a temple hidden among the weeping trees. It belonged to goddess who Lewis would not name, only calling her “My Lady.”

There were not-- at least as far as Lewis knew-- other merfolk, and he had no parents or family. His Lady had created him with magic for the sole purpose of guarding her island and her temple from any intruders-- the second-to-last line of defense after the enchanted storm she had concocted with magic stole from an ancient rival; he was under orders to sink any ship that braved that tempest, though thankfully crews that were bold or foolish enough to do so were a rarity. Past him, there were wards growing within the trees on the central island itself to repel trespassers. Vivi and Arthur were the first humans to ever set foot on the isle to test them.

“Is it safe here?” Arthur asked. “If your, ah-- your ‘Lady’ comes back to find us here…” 

“I wouldn’t expect her to. There are decades between her visits, and she was here less than a season ago. She won’t be returning any time soon.”

Most other questions about his Lady Lewis was cagey at best about, but on any other topic he was happy to give thorough answers. He had apparently never had a conversation with anyone other than the Lady he served before, and he seemed to be enjoying it immensely. They talked through the entire evening, parting ways only when it grew so late that sleep became impossible to fight.

.

Five: In which Lewis procures a very strange looking fish for lunch

Arthur eyed the lumpy creature with amused skepticism. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Lewis, but I really hope this guy tastes better than he looks.”

Lewis didn’t seem the least bit offended. “He isn’t much to look at, that’s true,” he laughed. “But we don’t know-- perhaps among fish he’s a real Prince Charming.”

“Isn’t that you, instead?” Arthur grinned, then realized just exactly what it was he’d said. His and Lewis’ faces were mirror images of wide-eyed surprise until Arthur went pink from the tip of one ear across to the other and he turned his attention to the cookfire  with sudden enthusiasm. “So uh-- how’s the best way to cook his highness? Does the fire need to be hotter, do we need more firewood--?”

Lewis didn’t blush-- Vivi wondered if he could blush at all-- but he looked equally flustered as he explained that this kind of fish needed a more delicate heat, and how they should wrap it in palm leaves. Vivi smirked to herself, eyeing the way that their hands seemed to ‘accidentally’ brush far more often than could be entirely accidental as they prepared the fish together.

.

Six: In which Lewis and Arthur have a heart to heart

“I’ve been wondering something,” Arthur hesitated. Lewis flicked the very tips of his fins against Arthur’s arm.

“You can ask anything, Arthur. I’ve told you that before.” 

“How did you learn so much about the world? You said you’ve never left this island before, but you know a lot-- did-- did you used to be human, Lewis?” Lewis looked surprised, then sad.

“No, Arthur. I’ve always been this.”

“Wait-- I didn’t mean it like--” “I know you didn’t; I know you’d never. I just…” He sighed. “There was a man that My Lady used to create me. I never really was him-- I don’t have any of his memories-- but whatever knowledge he had is now mine. So I know a great deal about a world I’m not a part of.”

“That’s-- so she turned him into you? I’m not sure I understand.”

“No. I wondered myself, when I was new. She told me that he did not become me any more than the earth a seed is planted in becomes the tree.”

“....I still don’t really get it.”

“I didn’t either,” Lewis laughed ruefully. “She said that whether I understood my origin or not didn’t matter, as long as I understood my purpose.”

Without thinking, Arthur laid his hand over Lewis’.

“Why haven’t you ever left?” He asked. “You said your Lady only even comes around every few decades, you could just… go, and see the world for yourself.”

“I was afraid.” Lewis drew abstract shapes in the sand with one blunt claw. “My purpose here isn’t much, but it’s more than I’d have anywhere else.”

“Didn’t you ever get lonely though?” “Not really. And now I never am,” he looked up at Arthur, and finally smiled again.

.

Seven: In which Lewis invites Vivi and Arthur over for dinner

“Where on the island do you live, anyway, Lewis?”

“Not anywhere on it-- Under it. Beneath the temple there’s a large cavern, and that’s where I live.”

“Oh,” Vivi hummed thoughtfully. Lewis tilted his head, seeming confused.

“Did you want to see it?”

“Isn’t it underwater?” Arthur wondered.

“The entrance is, but there’s a pocket of air in the cave, and a little beach. It might be too far for you to swim on your own but I could carry you--!” He broke off, folding his hands sheepishly. “Ah-- if you didn’t mind me doing that, of course.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Vivi said with a flutter of her eyelashes that was playful but nonetheless made Lewis duck his head shyly.

Lewis met them at the lagoon and they waded in until the water reached their chests. With absolute gentleness, Lewis scooped them against his chest, one of them in each of his massive arms.

“Take as deep of a breath as you can,” he said, and waiting until they had before diving down with them. The water was warm at the lagoon’s surface, but it rapidly cooled as they delved deeper and the light that filtered through her eyelids dimmed. If it hadn’t been for Lewis and his warmth, she didn’t think she would have been able to stand the cold, even though it was mercifully brief. The water warmed back up, and the light returned.

Just when Vivi’s chest was starting to burn with the need for air, the water broke above her head. She sputtered and drew in a long, grateful breath, swiping water from her eyes until she could focus.

“Oh--!” She didn’t know where to look first-- The cave would have been beautiful even unadorned: the ceiling was high-- so high it must have breached the surface and belonged to the ground of the island itself, and peppered with holes that let sunlight stream in. Embedded in the rich black stone of the walls were freckles of micah, which glimmered faintly and reflected like stars in the water’s surface. Even the sand making up the cave’s beach seemed to have a pearly sheen to it.

Garlands were strung in a complex web throughout the cave. Abalone shells and bits of sea glass clinked gently along their lengths, throwing dancing blots of color around the chamber. A band of colorful mosaic, stretching from just above the water line to presumably as high as Lewis could reach, wrapped about two-thirds of the way around the cavern walls. Even clearly incomplete it was gorgeous-- a lovely and chaotic mix of abstract shapes, pictures of sealife, and even maps of constellations. In the water tiny, colorful fish darted around them like living jewels.

Along one wall were natural ridges of stone that Lewis had utilized as shelves, which were covered with an array of dishes and vessels. Some of these were made of stone, some were fashioned from large shells, and a few seemed to be human-made and had probably been salvaged from the seabed. A fire pit sat in the middle of a stretch of pebbles further away from the water’s edge, and a wooden rack nearby seemed to be a setup for drying out firewood. The trinket Vivi and Arthur had made was set in a prominent niche in the cave wall, directly in a beam of golden sunlight.

“It isn’t very much,” Lewis said sheepishly as he set them on the sand.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Arthur nudged him lightly with his elbow. “Lewis, this place is incredible!”

“It’s like something from a dream!” Vivi agreed, beaming up at him. She clung to his bicep, having to use both her arms around just to reach all the way around. He cast his eyes down and clearly would have been blushing if he could. He’d let them go, but his arms curled gently back around them now.

After a while, Lewis lit a fire with a flint and steel, and prepared a pot of soup for them that was more elaborate than any Vivi had seen before, and was also about the tastiest thing she’d ever eaten. They spent hours sitting by the fire, so absorbed in talking and sharing their meal, that they hardly noticed as the light filtering into the cave from above shifted into rosy hues, then faded. Rather than face the cold of the depths, especially not in the chilly night air, Vivi and Arthur opted to bed down in the soft sand of the cave’s beach.

.

Eight: In which Vivi is happy precisely where she is

Vivi woke up warm and serene. For a few blissful minutes she didn’t open her eyes or think about where she was, just basked in the comfort of the moment. When she did open her eyes at last, her field of vision was filled with a swathe of skin-- Lewis’ specifically.

Though he’d fallen asleep alongside them on the main beach plenty of times before, Lewis had always kept a respectful distance between himself and the two of them. Now, in the much smaller space of the cave, the three of them had gravitated together as they slept. Vivi was tucked against the expanse of Lewis’ chest, and she could feel Arthur’s arm draped over her waist, as well as the tickle of his breath against the back of her neck. Lewis’ tail was curled up around her and Arthur both, as though holding them in just his arms wasn’t enough.

Vivi was who knew how far from home, from any kind of civilization at all, and at the moment she had no idea how or even if she’d get back. Somehow, she didn’t find the thought distressing-- in fact, she’d never felt as safe or as much like she belonged somewhere as she did right now, wrapped up in Lewis and Arthur’s warm embraces.

They’d figured things out for themselves as they went pretty well so far, and Vivi didn’t doubt that they could keep right on doing so. She craned her neck up to brush a kiss under the edge of Lewis’ jaw, which was as far up as she could reach, and threaded her fingers through Arthur’s. Sighing contentedly, she settled back down into sleep.

[theparanormalperiodical]

The True Story Behind The Amityville Horror (1979) And The 9 Other Times Paranormal Evidence Was Used In Court

I can hear the birds singing.

I can see a brilliant blue sky as it bathes my small Kentish town in the year’s first rays of light.

And I can feel the first thawe of February.

F*ck off winter, and hello spring!

As I sit on my bed, looking outside my window at the resurrection of the once-green landscape of my hometown, I am reminded of the true meaning of this season: life.

The mating season begins for most small, furry creatures, daffodils stand proudly as the first flower to mark their territory, and, like, there’s something about Jesus but I don’t think that had that much of an impact on the world, did it?

But I’m not the first person who was eager to turn their back on winter - the season of death - and look forward to a brighter year.

I’m sure the Lutz family, having fled their family home in mid-January, were just as ready to quash their terrifying experiences that were only darkened by the brutal winter months.

“Lutz… I know that name.”

Unless you were only until recently within a cult and decided to turn your back on Almighty Zarp Goddess Of Destruction, you’ll probably have heard that surname before. But who were they?

Well, to jog your memory, they were a small All-American family who lived in a small All-American town known as Amityville.

Yeah, there you go, now you know where I’m heading with this.

(Or you read the title of this post.)

Amityville is a town in New York which set the scene for probably the most famous haunting the world has ever witnessed. And with several families undergoing intense happenings - from murders to manic paranormal activity - this house has earned its place in the history books.

Oh, and on the big screen, too; 16 feature films have retold the story, including one film which featured Mr Pool himself, Ryan Reynolds.

So, as your favourite paranormal blogger, I thought I’d devote an article to the insanity that was Amityville, and dissect how real the reality shown in the films was for the 2 families that once lived at 112 Ocean Drive.

And I’m not stopping there.

What made this haunting so iconic was how it planted its paranormal feet into the legal system as a result of the murder case the hauntings are linked to. But the thing is, Amityville is far from alone when it comes to legal courts having to deal with the supernatural.

There are actually 9 other prominent legal cases from which the courts have had to debate and discuss the paranormal.

And I’m gon’ tell you all about ‘em.

*Bangs gavel*

Before We Get Spooky, Let’s Summarise What The Films Had To Say About This Haunting

(And they’ve got a lot to say.)

Like I said, there are 16 films that claim they document the events witnessed by the Lutz family in their short stay. No, really, they were there for less than 28 days.

From 1979 all the way up to 2017, we have a variety of films that explore what went down in that house, and, given they are horror films, we also get a few laughs along the way.

Like the 1992 classic Amityville: It’s About Time, which sounds like it might star Vin Diesel in a Fast and Furious crossover.

Or maybe how in the same year Amityville: Playhouse and Amityville: Death House hit the theatres.

And even the rendition of the Amityville Horror from which the realtor having shown the new occupants around the house died in the driveway when he attempted to leave the property!

So, to cut out that crap, I’ve decided to just recap what occurs in the 3 most popular movies of this franchise:

The Amityville Horror (1979), The Amityville Horror (2005), and Amityville: Awakening (2017).

The Amityville Horror (1979)

Sharing the same title as the book supposedly based on the real events witnessed by the Lutz family, this film was the first to share the story of the DeFeo family and the following inhabitants of the house. . The film starts by showing us the final moments of the DeFeo family, from which some bloke kills all of ‘em. From there we bear witness to a new family moving into the home.

And things get spooky quickly.

A visit from a priest gives us the first signs of the supernatural as he  experiences a variety of attacks from beyond the grave, whether its swarms of flies to a blistered hand when trying to warn Kathy, the mother of the family, about. An angry spirit then tells him to ‘get out’, triggering his complete mental breakdown.

The paranormal forces then encroach on the patriarch of the famalam - George - leaving him to split firewood to keep the constant cold at bay. Unexplained events begin to haunt the entire family:

The young daughter of the family mentions an imaginary friend, and a pig with glowing red eyes is seen by her bedroom window. The doggo then becomes cray-cray about the basement which is later revealed to conceal a small, hidden room that has red walls.

Things then get weirder. George begins to wake up at 3.15am every morning to check on the boathouse, and Kathy has nightmares which reveal details of what down in the first scene of the movie. A quick trip to the archives later, and she deduces that this house is built on a Shinnecock (Native American) burial ground, and that a satan worshipper - John Ketchum - once lived there.

If that wasn’t enough, she discovers the story of the DeFeo family, and notes that Ronald DeFeo - the murderer - looks uncomfortably similar to George.

It all comes to a head when blood oozes down the staircase and Jody (you know, the sweet adorable imaginary friend who is actually a pig) is seen through the window. Oh, and George tries to kill everyone with an axe.

Kathy brings him out of his trance, and they both get the f*ck outta the house.

We are told that they didn’t return for their belongings.

The Amityville Horror (2005)

For this modern retelling of the original film, the scenes are re-arranged, the hauntings are more minimalist, and just a dash of Ryan Reynolds is added.

And is he playing Ryan Reynolds? ‘Course.

But the major difference between the OG and this icon is that the basis for the hauntings is explored in a much more artistic and developed way:

We see the Native Americans that were supposedly tortured and killed by some guy called Ketchum, and we even see Ketchum himself! Well, for a very brief moment; he simply recreates his suicide and spews blood over Ryan Reynolds George.

This possesses him, and causes him to try and kill the rest of his family as they try to escape the house.

Kathy knocks Ryan Reynolds George out and takes him off the property to release him from Ketchum’s control.

Aside from the greater detail regarding Ketchum - that is, we discover that he was in a cult and was a reverend - we also see Jodie for the first time. No, she’s not the demonic pig we see in the first film. She’s a young creepy-ass girl instead.

What a trade!

The film ends just like the OG, with a title card explaining that they pissed off and never returned to the house. But once again, a divergence with the 1970s version is revealed. 

No, not the questionable hairstyles and cinematic style that looks like it was filmed with a toaster:

The final scene shows Jodie scream in terror inside the house as the furniture rearranges itself. She is then dragged beneath the floorboards by two hands, and the screen fades to black…

This confirms that this movie - alongside the later renditions of the story - don’t necessarily point to a specific haunting, but rather look at the house as the source of the haunting. In fact, they just skip out the DeFeos altogether!

This is down to the fact that the movies are directly based on the book of the same name which was released in 1977. Based off 45 hours worth of tapes from the Lutz family, this book wasn’t necessarily written with the family, but clearly had enough information to brew this highly controversial book.

The events charted in the book will be discussed later in this post.

Amityville: Awakening (2017)

The latest film in this franchise swaps out one famous face for another - Bella Thorne stars as a teen that moves into the infamous house with her family and brain-dead brother.

But instead of retelling the Lutz’s story yet again, it explores the power of the house as it slowly begins to possess the brother until he begins to carry out the murders that plague the house.

It is even revealed that the mother brought them to the house in the hope that the demonic energy would help the brother. But, with a gaggle of friends who know the story of the house - and even show the main character the 2005 film - they help her defend against the powers of the house.

The film ends with the sister dragging her brother out of the house and beyond the magic circle she drew, ending the power of the house over the brother after he begins murdering various family members.

The final scene notes that the main character is being questioned by the police, bringing us back to the main point of this post:

This haunting set itself apart by roping in the legal courts.

But how true were these films to the real claims made by the family? And what really happened on November 13th 1974?

What Really Happened At 112 Ocean Avenue?

Whenever someone mentions Amityville, someone gets sued.

Some guy writes a book? They get taken to court. Another bloke makes a film? Lawyers get pissy about the new details added in.

But obviously, this all started in 1974, when Ronald DeFeo killed all 6 members of his family at 112 Ocean Avenue. The courts definitely got involved then, and they are still are - he is currently serving time having been convicted of second degree murder in 1975.

The DeFeo’s deaths were rather peculiar though, mirroring an almost ritualistic scene; each victim was found lying in their bed, face down. At first he ran out of the house and reported that his family had been shot, only confessing days later that he was the killer.

The family had lived in the house since 1965, and thus spent a decade in what many presume to be a haunted due to the experiences of the Lutzes. Could this have caused the murders?

According to some, the paranormal forces could’ve been at the house before the DeFeos moved in as the insanity defense pedalled by DeFeo’s lawyers claimed that he heard the voices of his family plotting against him.

"Once I started, I just couldn't stop. It went so fast" - Ronald DeFeo 

I’m sure this mirrors the beliefs and actions of most murderers, but this sense of being out of control or maybe even not yourself certainly fits the bill of possession that the movies always pin on George Lutz.

The isolation of the George figure we see in the film and the voices heard throughout suggest this, but the DeFeo story is often skipped in the films and the books.  

Yet despite DeFeo’s confession, the murders are still bathed in mystery. The police were puzzled by the fact that the corpses showed no sign of struggle, and were confused by the sheer scale and speed that the killings would have required. On top of this, neighbours didn’t hear the shots despite the gun not having a silencer.

Even the motive was uncertain.

Sure, DeFeo did ask about his father’s life insurance very quickly following his death, but many didn’t think that was reason enough to kill one’s entire family.

DeFeo’s story has twisted and turned overtime, but one thing is for sure: no haunting is ever mentioned in this side of the story. 

None. Nada. Zilch.

This is why any retelling of Amityville focuses on the murders that took place there, but also tries to trace back the haunting to a satanic cause buried in the history of the house.

To this day the question still stands: what really caused the haunting of Amityville?

The book The Amityville Horror (1977) tries to answer this question, and charts each claim of the Lutz family. And unfortunately, it confirms that the films portray an uncomfortably accurate haunting.

The hauntings noted by the Lutz family are nothing short of incredible - however you interpret my use of that word..

The spooky goings-on reported include:

A priest being told to ‘get out’ and his subsequent telephone call warning the family to stay out of a room being cut short

George would wake up at 3.15am an check the boathouse - this was the estimated time of the murders

Flies would swarm the house despite their arrival in mid-winter

Kathy would have violent and detailed nightmares about the murders

The family members all began to sleep on their stomachs

Missy, the daughter, made an imaginary friend called Jodie, a pig with red glowing eyes

Green slime oozed from walls

Hoof prints similar to that of a pig were spotted in the snow

However, the most intriguing piece of the paranormal discovered at Amityville was that small room with red walls that was found in the basement - a room considered to be the source of the evil in the house. And, just like in the films, the family dog had severe reactions to it such as cowering and refusing to go near it.

It was only when they fled to a relative’s house and saw slime coming up the stairs towards them that they decided that they would not be returning to 112 Ocean Avenue.

Evidently the silver screen tapped into the nature of the hauntings, but the possession of George Lutz? According to the Lutzes, it only went as far as George noticing that he bore a resemblance to Ronald.

What about Reverend Ketchum? And the Native American burial ground?  

Doesn’t exist and didn’t happen. 

Well, okay, some bloke called Ketchum would have existed - this was a popular name for settlers from England. But there’s no evidence that he spent his spare time in a cult or murdered Native Americans there. And the Shinnecock Native Americans? Sure, they exist, but leaders claimed this was not a burial ground.

In reality, all we have is a chaotic level of activity.

Or do we?

The book has encountered a fair share of controversy, with most major details being overturned.

Hoof prints in the snow? It didn’t snow that day.

The red room? It was a closet, and it wasn't concealed.

The claims by the priest? He never said they were of paranormal origin.

"Nothing weird ever happened, except for people coming by because of the book and the movie." - The couple that lived there after the Lutzes.

The 9 Other Cases Of Evidence Of The Paranormal Being Used In Court

I love me a ghost.

The problem is, there’s a lot of ‘em.

You’d think Amityville was like the only case where the paranormal made their way into court cases, stamping the supernatural into legal files and sending shivers down the jury’s spine…

But unfortunately, that is not true.

It turns out that tales of haunting are actually clogging up legal archives. And no, I don’t mean cases where a woman would sneeze in the 16th century and they would legally have some right to burn her cause clearly she was a witch.

In fact, some of these mysterious mentions have founded laws!

“Alexa, play the Legally Blonde soundtrack.”

#1 - The Greenbrier Ghost

Woman dies. Husband acts suspicious. Husband acts more suspicious. Ghost tells mother the husband did it. Case closed.

No, seriously - that’s what happened.

Elva Zona Heaster was murdered in 1897 at the hands of her husband. Having broken her neck, he claimed complications with pregnancy killed her, and dressed the corpse to prevent people seeing the real cause of her death.

The grandmother was the first to become unsure of his story having washed the scarf that was tied around her daughter’s definitely-not-f*cked-up neck and being unable to wash out a blood stain. She began to pray, and her daughter’s spirit explained to her what occurred.

She even did an Exorcist and twisted her head round to confirm just in case her mam didn’t get the message.

She reported the sighting, and the deputies immediately questioned people of interest. The body was reinvestigated, and the husband arrested.

Boom. Ghosted.

#2 - The Hammersmith Ghost Murder

You’d expect most cases mentioned here to involve someone being murdered and their ghost being the problem, right?

This bad boy bucks the trend.

Its 1803, and we are in fair London town. A ghost is on the loose from, I don’t know, hell, and is wandering the streets. An armed patrol is in the area to protect the citizens when a figure emerges, wearing all white.

“Looks pretty ghosty to me, must shoot ghost” thinks one of the armed patrol guys. They shoot ghost, but ghost is actually a bricklayer.

F*ck.

The British courts thus debate whether attacking or killing someone out of a misunderstanding counts as a crime. It officially becomes a part of UK law that stands to this day that such an act is not worthy of a sentence as if the crime was intentionally committed.

#3 - Stambovsky vs. Ackley

Also known as The Ghostbusters Ruling, this takes us to the other side of the Pond, all the way to New York. Oh, and this time we aren’t in the 19th century, it's 1991, instead.

The story goes a buyer bought a house that was widely believed to be haunted, but they weren't aware of these claims. Thus, they asked for a recission of the contract and claimed that this sale was fraudulent as they concealed the haunting to avoid lowering the sale price.

The courts - after much mocking and deliberation - finally came to the conclusion that legally the house was haunted, and therefore houses that are supposedly haunted must be presented in this way.

#4 - The Devil Made Me Do It Case

This case does what it says on the tin, and is even set to be the basis for the next instalment of The Conjuring franchise.

The trial of Arne Cheyenne Johnson has already been covered by this blog (that awesome post about The Conjuring 3),  but for those not up-to-date on all the amazing articles I do, I guess I’ll just have to fill you in:

The story goes that whilst clearing out a house they just rented, David Johnson encountered an old man - who we now believe to be a demon - that began to slowly possess him.

David was only 12 years old, so, to protect him, Arne (his father) asked for the demon to possess him instead.

However, it was during an altercation with their landlord, Alan Bono, that the demon reportedly influenced Arne’s actions and assisted in his murder. In fact, it was Lorraine Warren that was the first to go to the police and make the initial claim that it was the demon that caused the murder.

The legal team roped in lawyers who had worked on similar cases abroad, and exorcism specialists were encouraged to speak up and defend Arne.

Their efforts did not prove successful, however, and Arne was handed a sentence of 20 years. He only served 5.

#5 - Booty vs. Barnaby  

No, this isn’t the title of the next Cardi B album. Instead, it's another historic tale from my homeland.

Our story starts in 1687, when some bloke called Captain Barnaby is on holibobs in Stromboli. When he’s not busy shooting innocent animals, he’s watching his next door neighbour from London Town getting chased by a phantom into the mouth of an active volcano.

No, I’m serious.

The neighbour’s wife thought the story sounded ridiculous too, which is why she had him arrested for slander. But then 30 of his crew supported his claims, clearing his name, and leaving a rather peculiar tale clogging up our court records.

#6 - The Haunting Of Lowes Cottage, Derbyshire

For some reason, every person buying a house in the ‘90s was using the hottest new way to bag a bargain: just say it's haunted or somethin’!

And that’s exactly what happened in fair Derbyshire. The Smith family were keen to move into their new cosy ‘lil cottage, but the oozing walls, ghostly hands sexually assaulting family members, the pig faced boy and other strange occurrences were a cause for concern.

(Obviously.)

Having withheld payment for the property due to the events noted, they took the sellers to court, saying it should be reduced by £50,000. Even the vicar threw in his two cents, offering up the evidence which sounded a lot like a little house in a place called Amityville.

Ever heard of it?

The case was eventually thrown out of court by the judge.

#7 - Reed vs. King

Before the DeFeos were murdered, and before the Lutzes even made the mistake of telling their furniture movers to head to 112 Ocean Avenue, a court case regarding a haunted house first hit the legal scene.

Our story starts in Grass Valley. A family moved into a new home, but the estranged husband paid a visit one night, and murdered 5 of the family members and injured 2 others.

Many years passed, and the Reed family shacked up here. However, it was only when they were told of the true events that transpired that the new residents became concerned. Sure, no one mentioned a haunting per say, but they claimed that the house “retained an echo”.

Small bloody footprints, blood stains smeared on the walls - no, it's not the bathroom after I’ve emptied my Diva Cup - it’s what Reed began to see throughout the house.

Reed thus decided to sue the sellers of the house, claiming that they tried to conceal the murders to avoid a wowcher.com-esque deal. But, when the case went to court, Reed didn’t mention hide nor hare of potential ghosts - instead, the potential haunting was used against them to prove how ridiculous the claims were.

#8 - The Death Of Estefania Guitterez Lazaro

It’s been discussed, dissected, and even given a Netflix contract - the death of this Madrid teen in 1992 is  officially one of the most prominent cases of possession to date.

Despite slipping under the radar, this tale is known not for its rather simple story, but because it was the first modern-day haunting that was verified by police reports.

The story goes that Estefania died following a session using a Ouija board with her friends in school. When interrupted by a teacher for trying to contact the dead, Estefania became possessed. A strange vapour began to enter her mouth and nose, and from there her seizures and hallucinations began.

After her death in hospital, the family claimed there was a variety of paranormal activity occurring throughout the family home. From the picture of Estefania catching fire of its own accord, to unexplained noises and a rather slimy, broken crucifix, the police had seen enough.

A report was filed citing the unexplained events and confirmed it was the paranormal.

#9 - The Exorcism Of Anneliese Michel

This is one of the most tragic tales I’ve ever had to write about.

Anneliese Michel’s story has been detailed on this blog many-a-time, and has received its fair share of attention in popular culture, including in the film The Exorcism Of Anneliese Michel.

But the main reason it’s been recognised as possibly the most famous case of possession is because it brought the paranormal firmly into the legal courts. Due to Michel’s extremely weak state at the time of her death - including weighing only 68 pounds at the time of her death - the priests that carried out the exorcisms were charged with negligent homicide.

However, it's not the fact that they were charged that puts the supernatural spin on this case.

To fight their corner, the priests used tapes that recorded Michel’s exorcism to bolster their claims of her possession and had her body exhumed.

Their mere 6 month stint in jail was down to the jury’s beliefs that they didn’t intend to harm her, nor neglect her. And the suspension of their time behind bars confirms that their case was backed up by their claims.

But let it not be mistaken: the jury weren’t convinced that Michel was in fact possessed - they were convinced that Michel’s belief in her possession could only be alleviated by the priests’ actions.

*Bangs gavel* What’s your verdict?

Is the jury out? Are you pissin’ on my leg and telling me it’s raining?

Or are you still awake at 3am and waiting to see the glowing red eyes of little Missy’s childhood bestie?

If so, why not fill the rest of your evening with the rest of my awesome articles on real paranormal activity just like this... Don’t forget to hit follow, too, to get a new ghost story in your feed everyday!

[blackcatmanor]

RWBY V7 Ch11 Photo review (spoilers)

A really great episode showing a lot of good strides made by the crew as storytellers! Pictures below  

Story stuff that was good:

Fights- Both action and the fighting in Ironwood’s office was well done. So much, in fact they deserve their own mini-breakdowns: 

Combat fights:

Ironwood vs Watts- I appreciated the apparent disparity between their combat styles. Ironwood was clearly a stronger, more aggressive, and overall better fighter, but Watts used his smarts and ability to manipulate the anti-gravity fields to help gain an advantage (I called that- yay!). I am really glad how this fight played out because it shows that the crew really thought about it and didn’t just make it a generic match between two opponents. The setting and dynamics of the anti-gravity field were also great and I think this will end up being one of the top fights of all time in RWBY. 10/10 

I hated watching the end, though but for the right reasons: Watching Ironwood peel his skin off to get free from the shield was excruciating and awful to watch, which really matches the tone of the scene. Watts just sort of standing there flabbergasted was even kind of appropriate, because you could tell he expected to trap Ironwood and did not expect the lengths Ironwood would go to in order to free himself. Some of the dialogue was a bit hammy, such as “You don’t want even MORE parts of your body made of metal,” and Ironwoods “I will sacrifice WHATEVER IT TAKES to stop her” but it wasn’t too distracting.

 Tyrian vs the Qrow, Clover, and Robyn (aka the throuple). 

This fight was very well choreographed but it was overall a bit of a mixed bag, mostly good but unexpected when considering what was teased in the opening cinematic. The opening cinematic promised a lot more interaction of Qrow and Robyn, with Robyn engaging Tyrian hand-to-hand, but Robyn literally stayed on the sidelines taking pot-shots and just got the final takedown by chance. If Tyrian had just dodged that last arrow, she wouldn’t have had the takedown and cool one-liner moment at all. Clover similarly was somewhat sidelined but he definitely had way more involvement in the fight than Robyn.

However, despite my criticism that Robyn and Clover were somewhat sidelined, I actually liked how Qrow was the main force behind the fight, because it gave him a chance to get revenge for his poisoning in Vol. 4, and he landed a lot of really good punches and kicks. It’s a nice callback even though the fight was slightly muddled by the different tone previewed by the opening cinematic, which promised a lot more cooperation rather than a Qrow vs Tyrian re-match.

Fights (verbal)

The fight in Ironwood’s office was great. Some of the dialogue was a bit wonky at times but overall it had the perfect impact: I felt re-invigorated in rooting for our girls and I wanted to punch the Ace Ops in the face! The clash of ideals was awesome and shows a great juxtaposition between our idealistic huntresses who never back down from a fight even if they may not win and the  Military/Strategic and Tactical style from Atlas, with Huntsmen and Huntresses willing to sacrifice lives for a greater victory (losing the battle to win the war). 

I think they did a good job of showing subtle differences in Ace Ops, as Vine and Harriet seem more in-line with Ironwood, Marrow seemed super conflicted (bordering on miserable), and Elm was somewhat in the middle. However, as they are the military, all of them fell in line at the end, showing a possible struggle between RWBY and the Ace Ops. 

The conflict between ideologies carried into the Throuple as well, and it was a great show vs tell moment where Qrow and Robyn are allied in the idealistic paradigm, with Clover literally on the opposite side. 

Basically: 

Ruby is Captain America, Yang is the Hulk, Weiss is Ironman, Blake is Spiderman. 

Cliffhangers

The cliffhanger in this volume is much more natural than volumes 5 and 6. In the previous two volumes, the last few episodes simply chopped up existing fights and stretched them out, pausing the combat to just resume a week later. This episodes’ cliffhanger was spectacularly done. The two main combat fights of the chapter are finished, but there is still plenty of conflict set up for later, and the ideological battles seem like they will escalate naturally in the next part. I expect the next part to have a Cinder vs Winter fight, and Neo vs Oscar/his team, but I am honestly more excited to see how the ideological conflicts escalate, with RWBY/Qrow/Robyn conflicting with the Ace Ops. 

Interestingly, this style of cliffhanger also fits well with the Military style of combat, which ties into Atlas as our setting: The battles of this chapter are over and won, but it’s clear a greater war is still raging, and the next batch of battles are just around the corner.  

Story stuff that was bad not as well-executed:

Overall I have a few minor complaints- one larger than the other

Oscar’s shopping spree: Oscar has a serious addiction to take out that many robots just to disappear and go shopping again. In all seriousness though, it would have been nice to see Oscar fooled and taken, since it was teased that Neo would use her semblance to disguise as Ruby to get to him. We already knew explicitly that Neo was going after him, so the “reveal” of him being gone at the end wasn’t a reason to skip the cool part of Neo tricking him and overwhelming all the robot guards. The amount of stuff that happens with Oscar off-screen is maddening.

Ironwood’s plan has a pretty big hole in it: This one is my larger complaint. Ironwood wants to take Atlas into the sky, but everyone knows Cinder is there on campus, and Ironwood even explicitly says “For all we know Hazel’s here too.” So, why would you try to get yourself high away from Salem’s forces when possibly two of the strongest foes are hanging out right there? (ok from what we’ve seen Cinder is not the strongest, but in-canon with the Maiden powers she is supposed to be one of the strongest).

I suppose Ironwood wants to get them high enough before reinforcements can arrive, because it’s better to deal with a few saboteurs in your city than wait for Salem to show up, but the fact that they don’t address this is kind of odd. You have an unknown number of people who are actively trying to interfere with your plans and you know they are in your school- so how are you going to mitigate that threat?  

 Character stuff that was good

Ironwood- This volume has done a much better job of establishing a morally gray character, whereas the Writers totally face-planted with Ozpin in the past. You feel for Ironwood because he has good intentions, but he has been driven nearly-mad with PTSD, which has given him a hair-trigger and causes him to make irrational and objectively bad decisions. I think the story can go further with his character, with his development arc being his struggle to reign-in his fear and paranoia and redeem himself. Ironwood’s V/A is also one of the strongest, so I think he can handle the possible complexity of the character’s arc going forward.

Ruby- Ruby was really good this episode. The episode had her trying to be a confident leader by telling Salem she will fail, but her speech wasn’t cheesy or ham-fisted. It was also great to see her confidence immediately crumble seconds later with the reveal that Salem was behind Summer’s death. Ruby’s anguish was a highlight of the episode, as it was well animated and pretty well acted (the animation carried most of the weight. Lindsay’s performance was pretty good, but I think it was hard for her to play Ruby’s kid-like voice in anguish. This is another reason why I hope the Ruby kid-voice thing becomes less prevalent in the future). 

I was also super stoked on getting a better idea of what happened to Summer. This scene was great and I hope it will have a huge impact on Ruby going forward as she learns to cope with this information and overcome her grief. 

 Character stuff that was bad:

Watts, we hardly knew ye- RIP To Watts. It was nice to hear Watt’s somewhat deranged motivations, but I’m bummed he’s gone. I think he was an interesting character and it would have been great to delve into his madness more- maybe a conversation with Pietro once they knew Watts was still alive. Pietro could have been a great vessel to explain Watts’ past to the group, and establish his villainy even more. Overall, it’s unfortunate the interesting villains keep getting killed off or sidelined (Hazel where art thou?). That being said I don’t think Tyrian is done yet. I think that Salem coming means she will spring Tyrian out of custody once again, as a poetic reference to his backstory we got earlier in the chapter.

 Overall 9/10. The episode was really good with a few minor issues. The fights between people are becoming a lot more thoughtful again, with efforts to showcase individual strengths and weaknesses. Ironwood’s extreme measures are a good way to paint someone with good intentions making the worst decisions, something they failed to do in the past. The cliffhangers are much more thought-out and organic rather than just slicing big fights into chunks.   

Is her model’s giant head pasted onto a smoke body?  >,<  I kind of lol’d when Salem first appeared because of her floaty head but it becomes less distracting as her dialogue goes on. 

[thewhumpening]

Freedom

(It wasn’t the next thing I wanted to write, but it gives context and some world-building for some of the other whump I’ll be writing about. Fallon is a familiar and can turn into a raven at will. Samuel is his mage. Characters are shared with @marantas​/ @goliathtwink​)

~

Fallon didn’t stick around to watch Samuel’s murder. He bailed just before it happened, becoming a raven and fleeing into the night as the assailant struck. There was a tangible snap that rang out in his soul, and then an impact that made him falter in the sky. It didn’t feel right. Granted, he had nothing to compare it to; he never experienced a broken bond before. The channel of shared power closed off, the thrum of energy vanishing once the raven had stabilized.

But despite the unusual sensation, Fallon knew that Samuel was dead.

And now Fallon is alone, landing in a dark sports field dimly illuminated by the white glow of the lamp posts along the pathways, processing this information. He returns to his human shape in a fluid shift almost too quick for the eyes to catch — a pale young man of average build, dressed overly warm for the summer air to combat his constant chill. Nobody knows where a familiar’s clothing goes when they shift, but they always return as though they weren’t blatantly defying the laws of physics. Magic is funny that way.

Fallon looks up at the murky sky, fogged over by a heavy marine layer settling over the bay. There are no stars, no moon. Nothing out of the ordinary. It looks exactly as it did before. As it does most nights. The distant sound of traffic is the only sound carrying through the air. He takes a slow, deep breath, his chest puffing up.

“FUCK! YOU!” he shouts, long and hard, bending at the waist from the force of expelling every last ounce of air from his lungs. It takes another moment of him staring at his feet in his bent stance, listening for a cruel retort, before a smile begins to tug on his lips. He stands suddenly, hopping about the grass as laughter bubbles up, slapping his thighs like a prospector who’s struck gold. “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!”

Fallon can’t keep his laughter down. He has no idea who it was that killed Samuel, or why, but he’s grateful, nonetheless. Now he can return to Melody, his real mage. He’d been stolen away nearly two years ago, used as a hostage to force her into doing what Samuel wanted. The late mage had wasted it, wanting her to find a way into Empa, a mythical, utterly fictional realm that magic users all agree is just mythology — old stories buried deep in old texts.

“You’re delusional!” Fallon cries into the night with glee. Being able to say what he’s been thinking this whole time is liberating. A weight lifted off his chest. “You stupid son of a bitch! I’m free!”

‘Now, who said you were free?’ 

The familiar, terror-inducing tone makes Fallon’s blood freeze. His stomach turns as a slimy feeling slithers over him, like cool fingers on his spine.

Fallon takes look around. He's alone in the park, but Samuel's voice was clear as day. “S-Samuel…?” he calls out timidly. Had he been wrong? Did he survive after all? Fallon had fled before watching the moment of death. Or the moment he thought he died.

But it’s quiet, save for distant sirens in the direction he had come from. Fallon pulls his jacket around him tight, all giddiness having been washed away in the blink of an eye. He wonders if whatever ailment that has him constantly freezing his ass off has developed new symptoms.

‘Not far from the truth, Pumpkin.’

Fallon gasps, whipping around. But he’s still alone. He clutches his jacket in tight fists, his jaw set as he strains his eyes against the dark. It feels like there’s a single finger running up the nape of his neck and into his hair, causing goosebumps to prick at his skin. A quick look behind him reveals empty space.

“Samuel?” His voice is a little louder than before, but maintains all of the uncertainty. There’s an unusual sensation of something large pressing against Fallon without him feeling it physically.

‘It’s a little, ugh, crowded in here, isn’t it?’ Samuel grumbles. ‘I guess I must have gained some weight since last time,’ he hums in amusement.

Fallon chuckles nervously, grabbing a handful of his own hair by the roots as he continues trying to find the mage. “Where, uh, where are you?” he asks, staggering back a step. This isn’t like Samuel’s usual tricks. He was never fond of illusions.

‘You’re unusually astute tonight. No, not an illusion.’ A slow, nauseating wriggle of something settles within him and he has to hold back a retch.

Fallon’s other hand joins the first in clutching his hair. How could Samuel know what he was thinking? There were no spells that could allow that, nor any potions. He shakes his head with an uneasy smile. “I’ve finally lost it, haven’t I? That’s the only explanation for this.”

‘Is it, though?’

“You’re not here! You’re dead!”

His hand reels back and slaps him across the face hard, causing him to fall and scramble away in his surprise. Eyes wide, Fallon looks to his hand and flexes it carefully.

‘Shut up. You’re being loud.’

His jaw trembles as the hand begins to move on its own again, pointing at his head. ‘I’m right here. Or —’ the hand trails down to point at his chest ‘— maybe here. Wherever the soul sits. I still don’t know. Metaphysical nonsense and all that.’ Fallon snatches his wrist and pulls it away from him.

“Wh-What the fuck?” he whispers. His deviant hand goes limp, relinquishing control back to himself. He gives it a quick shake just to be sure. “No, this can’t happen. It’s impossible. I-I’m just stressed, that’s it. None of this is happening.” Fallon nods, brows furrowing. “I’ve got that alien hand syndrome or something. Yeah.”

He stands carefully, keeping a firm eye on it. When it remains still, he releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Who cares if he was hearing Samuel’s voice, and if his hand occasionally does its own thing? If he can get back to Washington — to Melody — then he can get the help he needs. She would know what to do.

His leg stops moving halfway through his first step, and Fallon falls onto his face.

‘Ha! How’s that for alien hand syndrome?’ Samuel cackles. ‘What’s the matter, Pumpkin? Can’t stand to be without your legs?’

Fallon grits his teeth, digging his fingers into the grass. “No!” he cries. “No, no, no! This can’t be happening! This can’t be real!” A sob chokes him as the mage’s laughter rings out in his head, rough and jarring. “You’re dead!”

‘Very much so!’ Samuel’s fit dies down to occasional snickering. ‘I forgive you leaving me for dead, by the way.’

“But h-how—” Fallon stammers picking himself off of the ground. “I��”

‘It’s because of how I bound you. It’s how I stole you away from her. Bonds like that can’t be severed by outsiders, but they can be severed by me.’ There’s a quivering in him that Fallon can guess means smug satisfaction based on Samuel’s tone. The mage falls silent for a moment as though he were deep in thought. ‘But look at me, rambling,’ he continues coolly. ‘We’ve got to get moving. You dropped some feathers, I’m sure. Sloppy as ever. The guy who offed me will likely be trailing you by association.’

“But—!”

‘Enough. Dying is exhausting. You’ll get your answers. They all did, eventually,’ he says. A small giggle echoing through Fallon’s head gives him chills. ‘But you won’t get them if you don’t get moving. That guy is awfully cruel and very tenacious.’

Fallon stares at his hand in disbelief. Freedom had been so close, and the taste of it too short-lived. Whatever Samuel had done to secure his survival had been thought out years in advance, and apparently to others as well.

“How many times have you… died…?” he asks hesitantly, standing. The defeat he had shrugged off minutes ago had been replaced, weighing down his posture once again.

But his question is met with silence. With no more answers, and a newfound paranoia, Fallon looks to the north. It was going to be a long trek home. He just hopes Melody would know what to do.

[reviewmedia]

I, Robot

Disclaimer this review contains spoilers for I, Robot (2004).

“What does this action signify ;)”

Bio

I, Robot is a sci-fi thriller, released in 2004. Set in 2035 the story follows Del Spooner, a detective with a chip on his shoulder as he investigates the death of scientist and founder of USR, Alfred Lanning.

Acting

Will Smith (who plays Del Spooner) clearly gave this his all and it’s one of his better performances. It doesn’t matter if he’s delivering one liners (which there are plenty) or giving an emotional performance because Smith hits the right notes. Similar can be said for his co-star Alan Tudyk (who played Sonny). Unfortunately, Bridget Moynaha (who played Susan Calvin) performance fell a bit flat but does improve through the course of the film. While I didn’t have an issue with any of the other actors’ performances, I was disappointed with the lack of time spent with these characters. This became frustrating as I was curious to get to know these characters but the film never got further than outlining their relationship with the protagonist and demonstrating how Spooner was alone in his distrust of robots.   

Writing

For the most part I didn’t have an issue with the writing. The characters all had clear opinions and felt unique. Smith is given a lot of jokes to work with and I found these to be genuinely funny. That being said the writing wasn’t perfect. As mentioned above the side characters were severely underdeveloped and to a lesser extent so were the lead roles. An example is that Lanning (portrayed by James Cromwell) hints that his relationship with Spooner isn’t normal, yet we never find out why. We know he worked on Spooner’s prosthetic arm but it felt as if there was more history between them that wasn’t explored. There were also some inconsistencies such as Spooner being afraid of heights near the end of the movie, but leaning over the edge where Lanning had been killed at the beginning of the movie. The later scene would have been more consistent and tense if Spooner had displayed how uncomfortable he was in the beginning of the film when he was in Lanning’s office.

Story

At its heart I, Robot is a crime story in a futuristic setting and for the most part it’s done well. I liked that Sonny was originally portrayed as an antagonist. I thought it was convincing due to his introduction and the chase that followed. I also really enjoyed how the story was told, seeing Spooner investigate Lanning’s death never felt like a chore. This was of course due to how fast pace it was, which was at times to its detriment. Certain elements could have been explored more. But the positive was that the film never stagnated and remained engaging. The villain’s motive was nothing new or ground breaking. I personally liked that V.I.K.I’s goal wasn’t to end mankind, but was a misguided attempting to protect humanity as a collective. My biggest complaint in regards to the story was the lack of themes explored and the lost potential. For example, V.I.K.I (portrayed by Fiona Hogan) claimed that humanity was destructive and was set on its own extinction. Yet we see no evidence of this in the film, in fact the lack of world building is such a shame because the movie would have really benefited from it. We see many examples of how society trusts robots and I really do like how they’re implemented into the world. But we never go beyond that, leaving the world feeling two dimensional. The other issue I had was Lanning’s overall plan relying too much on chance. He essentially kills himself with the assistance of Sonny and expects Spooner to figure everything out. I also didn’t understand why he had to die as at the time of death the NS-5’s weren’t connected to V.I.K.I. Meaning there wasn’t much threat of being attacked. The film tries to suggest no one would believe him, but even if that was the case (which I don’t know why they wouldn’t as he’s a well-respected expert in that field) he could have just gone rogue and killed V.I.K.I himself, sure he’d be sued and lost lots of money but he’d be alive. The final issue I had with the story was the lack of consequence, by the end of the movie the only characters to have died (excluding Lanning) were the villain (V.I.K.I) and the antagonist who we had been lead to root against until the climax of the film.

Cinematography 

In regards to cinematography I, Robot takes inspiration from The Matrix. This is defiantly one of the films strengths. Seeing Smith wield a giant futuristic machine gun, tearing apart robots. While the camera moves around the interior of a sky scrapper, showing not just how outnumbered the hero is but also how easy it would be to fall was disorientating in the best kind of way. Fortunately, there are many moments like this that do a really good job at creating tension and setting the right mood. There are some truly epic action sequences that kept me on the edge of my seat. The director (Alex Proyas) proves he’s capable at pulling off more than action scenes. With flashbacks, tense chases and even a montage, all of which I’m happy to say still hold up.

Visuals

The visuals for I, Robot are a real mix, the NS-5’s and other robots have aged surprisingly well. Obviously if the movie was released today, I’d expect them to look better than they did, but fifteen years later I’m defiantly not complaining about their appearance and similar can be said about the vehicles. This being said, there is a very heavy reliance on CGI and it shows. Not only does some of the CGI not hold up (exterior of USR building) but the arguably over reliance meant that places that weren’t CGI looked out of place as these scenes didn’t match some of the other scenes and as a viewer this constant switch between CGI and none CGI became jarring. Costumes like the soldiers and S.W.A.T police also looked really cheap and un-tough, resembling something closer to a laser tag outfit.

Audio

Sound design was really good. Marco Beltrami has added so much emotional depth with his music, it doesn’t overstay its welcome and is one of the highlights of the film as it’s cleverly used to create tension. The guns and cars sound believable, with no real negatives to speak of. The audio was clear and impactful with certain moments being very satisfying to hear, such as Sonny using a wire to ping himself to save Calvin.

Misc

I had an issue with how Calvin was treated. When Spooner is first introduced to her, he laughs at her and doesn’t take her seriously. While you could interpret this as Spooner being arrogant and it being an area that we’ll see him grow away from, I wasn’t convinced. This is because near the end of the movie Farber (portrayed by Shia LaBeouf) openly sexualise Calvin in front of her and the only part that Spooner objects to is the use of the word “shit”. This to me comes off as the leading female role being objectified and really didn’t need to be included, it makes for uncomfortable viewing and took away from the experience.

While I, Robot is the name, product placement is the game. I personally didn’t mind this too much and found it humorous. However, the Audi logo sticking out from Spooner’s headrest just seems kind of uncomfortable, but that’s just my opinion.

Verdict

To conclude I rate this film 4/10. I, Robot is a very enjoyable film that’s funny, action packed and is well paced. I had a blast watching this and there really is a lot of fun to have with this film. However, I was really disappointed in the character development and lack of world building and as enjoyable as this movie is, it doesn’t take full advantage of its setting or explore the themes in a meaningful enough way. The reason I, Robot isn’t spoken about as much as other films from 2004 or earlier isn’t because the visuals don’t 100% hold up, it’s because it doesn’t make you think. Sci-fi is a genre where you can explore the impossible, get lost in complex socio-political structures that as alien as they are reflect our own reality. And go beyond the questions of what a soul is. But unfortunately, I, Robot doesn’t do that, instead the film plays it safe with underdeveloped character in a 2D world. The movie has other issues too like some mild sexism (compared to other movies), plot holes, some pretty awful costume designs and CGI, an in-consequential ending and some minor issues like the occasional bit of inconsistent dialog or some bad acting. 

Recommendation 

Would I recommend this film? That depends what you’re interested in. If you want a fast pace action movie in a sci-fi setting, then yeah you won’t be disappointed. But if you yearn for a film that makes you question if humanity is going too far creating artificial intelligent and whether or not robots/AI should be entitled to the same rights humans are or other similar question. Then I’m afraid no, I cannot recommend this.

 PUNISHMENT: Converse all stars vintage 2004

[racetothedslides]

Aftershocks - Part 2

Preface: Though this fic takes place in the RTTE universe, it takes place in a different story arc. I found the idea of working with villains we already know the demise (or redemption) of and familiar plot points kind of boring, so the main antagonist is an OC. I more or less introduce things without exposition, but it shouldn’t be hard to follow, and characters, motives, and plot points will become more fleshed out as the story(s) progress. I prefer stories where you’re not supposed to know everything right off the bat!

Summary: When Hiccup takes the twins invulnerability for granted, Tuff ends up seriously injured. Now he must deal with the wrath and broken trust of Ruff, while questioning his ability to lead as the rest of the gang try to find some middle ground and are forced to see both Hiccup and Ruffnut in a new light.

Rating: Teen I guess?

Warnings (which apply to the story as a whole, not individual chapters): swearing, violence, injury, mild gore

Part 2 - 1,438 words Part 1 

@ashleybenlove ! 

“I don’t know, Sis,” Said Tuffnut, “I still think developing an immunity to Thor’s bane was a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah,” Said Ruffnut, “Like, we could have used it to poison our enemies without worrying about getting sick!”

“A game of wits! Tell the fiend only one cup of ail is poisoned, then have him choose which for each of us to drink. Little would they know they know…”

“The Dread Twins Thorston strike again!” Laughed Ruffnut. 

The twins flew over the ocean, stomachs full of breakfast fish brains and their own brains not overly concerned with their task. Though Ruffnut’s eyes did dart towards the water below them frequently, it had nothing to do with nerves; though it had been years since she’d seen him, she always hoped she’d catch a glimpse of Scauldy. Yet the scauldron remained elusive as ever, and after a few hours their target came into view. 

“Wow…that’s one big heap of yak dung.” Said Tuffnut. 

They guided Barf and Belch forward, touching down on the rubble strewn beach. They didn’t have to walk long before they found a cave entrance. It wasn’t as dark as one might expect inside the mountain, and the light that filtered in from other other various entrances and holes in the rock gave the cave system a haunting ambiance. Dust fell from the ceiling at random, with one stream hitting Belch in the eye. Barf gurgled in amusement. 

“I dunno,” Said Ruffnut, “With the right overhaul this place could be pretty cool.”

“You kidding?” Said Tuffnut, “It would be cheaper just to tear this place down and install a new mountain.”

“You think Halvar is really hiding all his Thor’s bane here?”

“I don’t know. For a guy as obsessed with purity as he is, this dump doesn’t seem like the kind of place he’d ever go. Then again, that could be part of his master plan.”

“Man, remember the bad guys we fought were stupid? The red Death, Dagur, Alvin, the entire elite guard of Burk and our parol officers…I miss those days.”

“Me too, Sis, me too.”

A low rumbling knocked a shower of grit from the ceiling. 

“What was that?” Asked Tuffnut. 

“No clue,” Said Ruffnut, “Want to check it out?” Tuffnut shrugged and they continued deeper into the cave. 

They made no effort to keep track of the twists and turns they took, mostly because they were themselves, but also because there was a never a shortage of potential exists. It wasn’t long before Ruffnut clamped a hand over her nose. 

“Argh, do you think whatever it is is making that smell?”

“Hmmm…interesting bouquet. Eggy…rottony…I’ve got it! Smells just like Astrid’s cooking.”

The rumbling came again, and this time the twins could see a dark mass moving towards them through the tunnel ahead and within an instant they were swarmed by a flock of panicking night terrors. The two scrambled to their dragon and somehow directed the zippleback towards the nearest source of sunlight, emerging onto the crumbling mountainside. Tuffnut opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get any words out a night terror raced out of the exit they’d just come from and collided with Barf’s face. The irritated dragon let loose a small cloud of gas into the night terrors face, which Belch dutifully sparked. The explosion would not have been enough to hurt the little dragon or anything else under normal circumstances. The natural gas seeping from every fissure with the mountain and leaking out of every exit, would change everything. 

The blast was so loud Ruffnut screamed in shock, and Tuffnut looked up just in time so see half of the mountain, the half he was standing on, explode outwards. There was no time, no point, in trying to get their bearings. Tuff opened his mouth to scream or call out to his sister or dragons, he wasn’t sure, but it was immediately filled with dust and rock. Everything happened so quickly Ruffnut was only vaguely aware of rocks impacting her body, but couldn’t register the pain, at least not yet. She thought she saw a flash of green in the near black cloud that surrounded her, but she wasn’t sure. Despite the sudden nature of the explosion, it seemed to take forever to end. Even after she’d hit the ground the rubble kept raining down around her. It would have been deafening, had she been able to hear anything. 

When it was finally over, she couldn’t do anything but lay were she had fallen, stunned, trying to process what had just happened. She knew that Barf hadn’t released nearly enough gas to cause an explosion like that, but when it came time to try and think of another explanation, her brain ceased to function. That’s impossible, she kept thinking to herself, That’s impossible, that’s impossible…

When she was finally able sit up she spent a few seconds rubbing the grit from her eyes before they would allow her to see, through the dust that clung to the air, the ruin that was half a mountain. 

“.!” She said. She tried to cough out as much debris as she could before she tried again. “Tuff?!”

She slowly stood up, waiting for any sudden flash of pain. All she felt, however, was a dull ache in her arm. Looking down, she noticed her arm seemed to be covered in a reddish paste and when she cleared it away she realized she had a pretty nasty gash running the length of her forearm, stopping just as it hit the back of her hand. Nasty as it was, it wouldn’t kill her, and the dust mixed with her blood to form a sort of bandage. She scanned the area around her and called for her brother again. Her heart leapt with she heard a sudden sound, but it was Barf and Belch, not Tuff. She stumbled over to them and was happy to see they seemed fine. 

“Guys, help me find Tuff…” She wheezed. The two heads immediately started scouting the area. After a minute of searching Belch began frantically nosing a pile of rocks. Ruffnut hurried over and saw that it wasn’t a pile of rocks he was nosing, it was one big rock, on top of one Tuffnut Thorston. While Belch tried to wake Tuffnut up, Barf aimed a headbutt at the rock that sent it flying. Ruff rolled her brother onto his back and tried not to panic. His arm was hanging at an odd angle, and while she was momently relieved to hear him breathe, the odd papery sound that accompanied each breath terrified her. 

She tried to remember their first aid courses her memory wouldn’t cooperate. Instead she began to pick the smaller rocks off of her brother. She hadn’t been able to manage more than a whisper since the blast. That changed when she took hold of what she thought was a pebble only to find it was Tuffunt’s exposed collar bone. She shrieked. 

“TUFF, WAKE UP, COME ON WE HAVE TO GET BACK TO THE EDGE!” She was starting to hyperventilate now, “Barf! Belch! Go get help!!! PLEASE!” Barf turned to face the sky, but Belch would not be budged from his position over Tuffnut. Ruffnut was torn between screaming at Belch and knowing there was no way she could leave him either. 

“It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok…it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok…” She said to no one, “They’ll come look for us. They’ll find us. Everything’s going to be ok…”

Across miles and miles of sea, the rest of the gang was starting to regroup. No one had any luck. 

“Think the twins have?” Asked Fishlegs. Astrid shrugged. 

“Who knows,” She said, “Hey, Fishlegs, how long did it take you to get to and from the island they’re at?”

“It was pretty far out there,” Said Fishlegs, “We didn’t get back until after dark, remember? They won’t be back for hours.” The unease that had been lurking in the back of Astrid’s mind stirred, but she knew her friend was right. 

“Ok,” She said, “We’ll give them until midnight, but they aren’t back by then we’re going after them.”

“Deal,” Said Hiccup, sensing her discomfort. 

Back on the half destroyed island Ruffnut sat, Tuff’s head in her lap, watching the sun dip lower and lower, her brother’s rasping breath the only sound to fill the air. 

They’ll be here any minute, she thought, Any minute now. She repeated these words in her mind as each passing hour brought a little more darkness to the sky.