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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months

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Do we know exactly why yuu is called 'trickster'? Pretty dumb question ik I actually don't know if this has been answered alread

The nicknames in TWST are not usually explained. The main exceptions I can think of are “Monsieur Dent-de-Lion” for Ruggie in book 5, “Baby Seal” for Grim in book 4, “Goldfish” for Riddle in Floyd’s School Uniform vignette, and “Crabby” for Ace in the second volume of the light novel. We have to draw on assumptions for basically the rest of them. I’m guessing that “Trickster” is meant to allude to Yuu’s implied strategic nature despite passing off as plain and unassuming by appearance alone.

I believe the closest we get to learning the origins of Yuu’s nickname is in the first Happy Beans Day event; in it, Yuu is part of a ploy to trick the Monster/Beast team in order to seize the golden harp the other team is protecting. However, Rook is calling them Trickster long before the final deception is revealed in chapter 13, in which he remarks that Yuu is truly deserving of the nickname.

The issue I have with it is that I think Yuu has done very little to maintain it 💦 Sometimes Yuu has flashes of intelligence (like realizing that the contracts aren’t invincible). However, outside of the prologue (guiding Grim on where to shoot fire and formulating a plan to take out the OB In the mines) and maybe that small segment in Happy Beans Day (though most of the plan was Jade’s), we rarely ever see Yuu being that much of a tactician or trickster. Rather, they are often strung along on other people’s plans or doing minor or coincidental things (like making noise to prevent Leona from sleeping/stealing the magic carpet and crashing into Octavinelle) to push the narrative along while letting other characters do the Big Brain work for them (it was Leona and/or Azul who actively orchestrated the plots). I guess the argument could be made that maybe Yuu helps in tricking others (Endless Halloween Night, distracting Jamil with board games while Kalim is interrogated in book 4), but it doesn’t come off as a particularly strong or defining trait of theirs if several other characters also engage in the same acts (Floyd, Azul, Malleus, Lilia, etc.) or Yuu had little involvement in planning the deception.

I just think it’s a wasted opportunity to give Yuu such a cool nickname but then never fully commit to showing us why Yuu has “earned” that title. I guess it implies that Rook, who is an observant character, sees more in Yuu than being generically nice or cheering about friendship. However, it rings… somewhat hollow if characters are just saying Yuu is smart (Leona + a few others also have lines that express similar sentiments) or telling Yuu what to do without Yuu actually doing anything smart or actually planning a ploy themselves 😭 It’s “telling” us what Yuu is rather than “showing” us. This is likely done for the self-insert aspect of TWST/to make players feel important, but I don’t think it’s good from an actual writing standpoint.

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ms-scarletwings · 6 months

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Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

#invader zim #iz #iz headcanons #iz theory #irkens #iz comics #iz analysis #Li’l meat man #long post #scarlet talks about things #baby schema

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peepee-magee · 6 months

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More Apex Polarity art, story by @naffeclipse One a scene n the other more concept art of me trying to figure out design n color.

Rip poor harp seal. Idk if

Also dude, drawing slick skin in a harsh lighting environment? I think drawing Eclipse breaching rewired my brain. Silly light reflection. Capturing the way orca hide absorbs Arctic light was like the way biting into a balloon covered in electric static feels.

He’s a little creepier than he was in the start, but with a handsome smile like that who could resist cheek squishing

#digitalart #fanart #apex polarity #eclipseverse #blood #slight gore

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searchingforserendipity25 · 6 months

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Hold His Own | on ao3.

Elros and his family, for @nolofinweanweek.

Elros left his children the tools and the means to commit all the mistakes of his forefathers, and new ones besides; and he was not sorry for it in the slightest. (All of them come to him in the dark once at least, crying and seasick, wanting to be held and sang to quietness. There was a wave, little Vardamir said it first; and his children after him, too, weeping and afraid as he had vowed they never would be. A wave, and it was angry, and it came for everything).

In his old age, Tar-Minyatur looked little older than his grandson's children. Silver was in his hair, and the silver of his eyes a little dulled; but his mind was sharp still, and eager. He walked the quays every day, and bent his back on harvesting seasons.

Only his son's growing weakness kept him from venturing out on the fishing vessels that scoured Ulmo's realm for fat tunas and rich whales - and all his children and their children were raised more on tales of the first eventful seal-hunting expeditions up and down the shores of Númenor than on tales of Beleriand.

Sirion, Doriath, Gondolin and Hithlum - those came later, when they learned their letters and their histories. His brother, in love with lore and the keeping of lore, would argue against it, and no doubt rear his children in the wisdom of Melian's line and the solemnity of eternal memory.

Elros was mortal. He raised his people to love themselves first of all, their cities and language and ways. They sang new songs every season, composed new and useless rhythms with dizzying speed - and the king of Elenna, who had grown among enemies, and made war on Melkor, delighted above all things in this speedy work, the restless pettiness of every day's effort.

The work of one's hands was rarely more beautiful than when it was raised up to protect against wind, hail and spray - than when towers were raised on strong foundations, and around them cities raised on beautiful lines.

He wrote his deeds and thoughts in treatises and decrees, the lore made to be read by lore masters in centuries to come. It was important to keep the past alive, and prepare for the future, study portents and ignore not foresight - Yet not, Elros wrote in the letters he tossed at the waves, Mithlond-bound, at the expense of this year's seaweed nurseries.

Vardamir was hungry enough to learn, and Tindómiel cared mostly for the business of the ships and the studies of the stars - Atanalcar went pearl-diving most of the summer, every summer of his life, and Manwendil liked riding best of all, and was a friend to the sea-birds that brought him small tokens of sea-glass and feathers.

Elros left his children the tools and the means to commit all the mistakes of his forefathers, and new ones besides; and he was not sorry for it in the slightest.

(All of them come to him in the dark once at least, crying and seasick, wanting to be held and sang to quietness. There was a wave, little Vardamir said it first; and his children after him, too, weeping and afraid as he had vowed they never would be. A wave, and it was angry, and it came for everything).

He soothes them all. Lullabies, half-forgotten and half-improvised, sweet with Menegroth's lilting rhymes; a few tries at the harp, and their little heads rested trustingly on his shoulder, asleep without fear again.

Dreams were only dreams, in the morning. None of them saw bloodshed before their coming of age; none of them would shed blood unjustly, for greed.

Tar-Minyatur knew this, because they were his children. He knew also that their children were like to have children themselves, and for all the friendship of the sea, an island was only so large and plentiful as the number of its people allowed them to be.

The gulls brought gifts to him, too. Perhaps they would do so to his descendants, too, five or ten births down the line, if not twenty. Did birds lose the keenness of their memory, as old men did?

The king's windows were always open, to the fresh star-lit light of the evening, when the weather allowed. In his last years, his bones turned into tyrants even on warm nights, but Tar-Minyatur found time to evade his minders, to bring out his bowl of seaweed and dumplings to the parapets of his towers and speak to Gil-Estel all the same.

All the old people of the island did, when they were soon to die. That last bearing of witness, some of the Edain held, was what stars were for, and this one most of all.

They may choose to tear them down in time, and build them anew, wrote Tar-Minyatur, silver-haired and trembling with the cold of an open window, young still in a way his brother would never be again.

He had taken to reading old philosophical texts with his son's grandchildren, now that they were old enough to be interested in these things, to know death and be a little angry at it, and petulant about the old king's way of teasing them. They went off to complain to Vardamir, who explained everything a little better, a little more sensibly.

No one had called him Elros in many years. All the same, the king wrote: Let them be as they would! That will be their choice! But they shall choose, and choose to look onwards, not back into the unalterable past. The best gift I can give them is to give them some stone and soil to stand upon, and the will to go onwards as they would, with the years they have to live.

Tar-Minyatur raised his children to know this. Great and terrible things came of that, and he foresaw many, if not most; but then, one must think of this day's effort most of all. The future would come, as certain as the tides and the summer storms. It was enough to leave behind strong foundations, and something of estel to pass onwards. All wise old men in Elenna knew this, and held it to be true.

#elros #elrond #vardamir #tindomiel #silm fic #nolofinweanweek #nolofinwëans #the fall of numenor #my fics #tolkien fanfiction

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walkswithmyfather · 5 months

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Revelation 10:1-3. “I saw another strong angel coming down out of heaven, clothed with a cloud; and the rainbow was upon his head, and his face was like the sun, and his feet like pillars of fire; and he had in his hand a little book which was open. He placed his right foot on the sea and his left on the land; and he cried out with a loud voice, as when a lion roars; and when he had cried out, the seven peals of thunder uttered their voices.”

“The Mission and Ministry of Angels” By In Touch Ministries:

“Why did God create these heavenly beings?”

“We see images of angels all around us at Christmastime. In some of these, angels are portrayed as slim Victorian beauties with flowing hair, giant feathered wings, and elegant gowns. Others look like adorable babies carrying tiny harps. But these representations have very little in common with the terrifying angelic messengers found in today’s passage and throughout Scripture. In fact, their first words to the humans they encounter are usually “Do not be afraid.”

In the final book of the New Testament, these heavenly emissaries play a significant role. For one thing, in the first two verses of chapter 1, an angel gives John the revelation from which the book gets its title. Later, angels worship God: “Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels around the throne and the living creatures and the elders; and the number of them was myriads of myriads, and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, ‘Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing.’” (Revelation 5:11-12) and provide help and care to His people: “And I saw another angel ascending from the rising of the sun, having the seal of the living God; and he cried out with a loud voice to the four angels to whom it was granted to harm the earth and the sea, saying, ‘Do not harm the earth or the sea or the trees until we have sealed the bond-servants of our God on their foreheads.’” (Revelation 7:2-3).

Then they loudly proclaim the good news of Jesus: “And I saw another angel flying in midheaven, having an eternal gospel to preach to those who live on the earth, and to every nation and tribe and tongue and people; and he said with a loud voice, ‘Fear God, and give Him glory, because the hour of His judgment has come; worship Him who made the heaven and the earth and sea and springs of waters.’” (Revelation 14:6-7). And they also serve God by heralding His perfect justice to the world (Revelation 14:8; Revelation 14:17-19).Notice the action-oriented mission and ministry of angels throughout Revelation, and recognize the contrast with the sweet, passive images we usually see. Angels were created by God to glorify Him. And though we are “for a little while lower than angels” (Hebrews 2:7), the same is true of us as well: “Now may the God who gives perseverance and encouragement grant you to be of the same mind with one another according to Christ Jesus, so that with one accord you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Romans 15:5-6).

[All Bible verses in the NASB1995 translation. Photo by Luke Stackpoole at Unsplash]

#revelation 10:1-3#revelation 5:11-12#revelation 7:2-3#revelation 14:6-7#christmas#birth of jesus#epiphany#angels#god loves you#bible verses#bible truths#bible scriptures#bible quotes#bible study#studying the bible#the word of god#christian devotionals#daily devotions#bible#christian blog#god#belief in god#faith in god#jesus#belief in jesus#faith in jesus#christian prayer #christian life#christian living#christian faith#christian inspiration#christian encouragement#christian motivation#christianity#christian quotes#in touch ministries#keep the faith#make him known

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thescrapwitch · 21 days

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Throwback Monday

(one day I'll actually answer one of these on time)

Thank you @camille-lachenille for tagging me! The older fic snipped I've chosen to share is from The Price We Pay, my "Maglor goest to parlay with Morgoth instead of Maedhros AU".

“How is my nephew?” Nolofinwë asked her.

“Resting now,” she said. She cast a quick glance at Maitimo, then stepped to the side so that he could step further into the tent. “Be careful not to wake him.”

Inside was - was -

Maitimo had preserved the image of Makalaurë in his mind, kept his little brother sealed in amber where nothing could tarnish him. Harp in hand, eyes half closed, lost in a song he’d yet to play. At peace. Happy.

The body laying on the bed did not fit that image. This one was too thin, too pale, its hair hacked short and its skin covered in bloody bandages. It could not be Makalaurë. But then the chest moved - breathed - and then Maitimo did not care that it was different.

Makalaurë was here. Makalaurë was alive.

Maitimo dropped to his side, terrified to touch his little brother. What if he broke him? What if he vanished? All of the emotions he’d held back crashed down on him in an instant.

“Laurë,” he said unsure when he started crying. Tears fell on the sheets. Makalaurë did not stir, but his chest continued to rise and fall and Maitimo clung to that small proof that this was real. “Laurë. Laurë.”

What else could he say but his brother’s name? What use did he have for any other words? He’d spent thirty years training himself not to say it. Now he could not stop. His brother was here. His brother was here, alive, he’d been alive all this time in Angband and Maitimo had done nothing -

Tagging: @thelordofgifs @echo-bleu @sallysavestheday @lordgrimwing @dreamingthroughthenoise @grey-gazania and @whovianofmidgard. No pressure of course!

#my writing #maglor #maedhros #silmarillion #thank you again for the tag!

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stard0ka · 10 months

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I see people think he would be a dalmatian but what about a HARP SEAL 🤬🤬🤬 I LOVE THESE FAT LITTLE CREATURES plus he’s kinda built like one 🦭

#across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #the spot #spiderverse spot

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gust-jar-simulator · 3 months

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So I've been analyzing the Triforce Poly to figure out Baldur's Gate builds for fun, and honestly their fighting styles say a lot about them and really interest me.

Zelda: archery. She's thematically associated with defense, sealing, and shielding, but the most common thing we see her actually use is a bow. Shoutout to Twilight Princess Zelda, who uses a sword, but while it's probably hers it's notably when she's possessed by Ganon. I have feelings about the fact that she's an archer and the other notable tool of the goddess is a harp. Something about strings on a frame. Something about angels and smiting. Hylia DOES have a sword, but she gave it to her knight.

Link: sword and board. Skyward Sword link definitely fits the paladin archetype, you literally get back to Skyloft via prayer. Honestly though I think his devotion to Zelda would've been blasphemous if she wasn't. Y'know. The goddess incarnate. I have feelings about that. Anyway, Link does multiclass into bard notably in Ocarina of Time, but the thing about Link is that he's a hero. "Love not the sword for its sharpness, but that which it defends," etc etc. He might be a chaos gremlin who specializes in property damage, but he helps the little guy and carries groceries for grandmas in need. He wields the sword of the goddess and the shield of Hyrule. He is a divine weapon, but also the protector of Hyrule, and both of these are equally important.

Sometimes it takes awhile for him to find one or the other- you could say a lot about Skyward Sword, for example, because he Starts Off with the weapon of the goddess and develops and understanding of what that means as he goes, but he only gets the Hylian Shield after engaging with people and exploring and immersing himself in the land. In Wind Waker, he starts off with the shield of an old hero in his family, and has to basically rip the sword from the jaws of the gods with undeniable moxie. He's not a weapon of the gods, he just demands to be, because he's foremost a protector and the shield is inherently tied to his family.

Ganondorf: dual scimitars, trident. His notable scimitars have the names of his mothers carved into them, and the Spear of Power is a callback to Ganon's very first appearance and Zhu Bajie's war rake. Notably, these are melee weapons, and he uses both hands for offense. He tends to compliment his fighting style with some casting, like fireballs or lightning, and of course there's the massive fuckoff demon king transformation in several games. As far as I know he doesn't use a shield. Demise came later on, development wise, but he also uses a greatsword and lightning.

Ganondorf is a king who plays politics and can lie like a devil, but if it's to the point that he's actually personally fighting you there's no need for illusions or sugarcoating. He's a warlord and his style is hit you until you die, and he will fill both hands with pointy objects to overwhelm the opposition and make sure you stay down. Also from personal experience, fighting a dual wielder or a polearm is Fucking Terrifying. Archers are sniper fear, either they hit you or they don't, and they need time. Sword and board is somewhat predictable, if hard to actually hit. Dual wield or polearm is like picking a fight with a tornado.

Thematically speaking, the scimitars are carved with his mother's names. He wields the blades in their name, aligned with their goals, and it's a connection to his roots as the king of the Gerudo people. The spear is more connected to his nature as the heir of Power, the weapon of the Demon King. In FSA, pulling the spear from a stone is actually what transforms him from a Gerudo into the Demon King, in a sort of magical girl King Arthur situation.

Also to round it out because I think I'm funny, Vaati can use a sword but he fights you as a caster because he doesn't want to fucking touch you. He's above that. Then after his demon transformation he's just trying to swat you like a fly because he's mad.

#loz ganondorf #loz zelda #loz link

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ladye-zelda · 2 months

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Harp

Zelda strummed the strings of her harp carefully, plucking each of the right strings with purpose. She had her eye on the music sheet in front of her, but accidentally plucked the wrong string, sending a sour note emanating from the graceful instrument.

The princess breathed out a hiss, raising the instrument over her head, ready to throw it out the window in front of her. But she knew it wasn't the harp's fault... it was her own. Perhaps it is time for a little break.

She stood up, placing the harp carefully on her cushioned seat. She paced around the room three times to calm down, but coming to no avail. She decided to stand by the window, looking out into the fields of Hyrule beyond. It was a beautiful day outside, and yet she was forced to stay inside and practice her harp, "because it is what princesses do."

Her gaze eventually lowered, settling into the sparring area outside of her tower. The knights were having a field day with the nice weather it seemed; they had forgone their armor and proper attire for their undershirts and trousers, battling with either wooden weapons or their bare fists. She could hear their shouts of laughter even up in her room.

A twinge of jealousy twisted at Zelda's heart. They seemed so happy and carefree... Zelda could only have that kind of life in her dreams.

A glint of metal caught her attention, and Zelda looked again and saw a knight dressed in a full suit of armor pass around the other knights, carefree of the joys around him. It wasn't any captain or commander that she knew of, as the knight was still quite short and young-looking. Perhaps an apprentice? It couldn't be; he was wearing the armor of someone who is knighted. A prodigy, perhaps?

He passed quickly, with the only other distinguishing feature she could make out of was his honey-blond hair. A knight so young... a prodigy like that fit the rumors of what they said about the hero returning. If that is so...

... then Zelda doesn't have a lot of time left, hasn't she?

She sighed, thinking about the weight of the destiny put on her. She started to feel sick, thinking about going back to the springs or the monastery to try to unlock her sealing powers. She looked back at the golden harp still sitting on her chair. At least it is better than standing knee-deep in a cold spring for hours, she thought, returning to her previous spot. She picked up the harp, and resumed her lonely lessons.

#the ladye answers #amazing stormy!!!#the ladye writes #breath of the wild #pre botw #thank you for the prompt!

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asha-mage · 5 months

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WoT Not So Secret Santa Snippet (WIP):

Here is one story about a man who bore the name Jasin Natael. Once, there was a boy named Joar, sweet tempered and more then a little pretentious. He had been born with a cold, slightly biting wit, but with an earnest heart all the same. Joar had loved to play the harp. He had loved music of all kinds, the harp’s sweet twangs where more beloved to him then any other. He loved showing off for his friends, Mieren and Lews, even more. There was a joy in it, in being seen and wondered at for having made something beautiful with no more then his own fingertips. He loved perfecting each new song, mastering it, conquering the challenge they presented. He spent long hours practicing, perfecting the skill, but always in secret, hidden behind warding webs spun to block out sound, or far away from where he might be overheard by his mother. Joar’s mother did not approve- she felt that music was a frivolous waste of her son’s life. That was what she told him the day she burned his hands down to the bone with the One Power, and made him beg for her to heal them. He would do something of meaning, she told him, he would not be permitted to waste his life on nonsense. He would give real, true service to the world. He was her son. He had no choice in the matter. The boy yielded weeping, and his mother spun a Restoration web so fine that no eye would ever be able to discern that any harm had been done, the pain vanishing away faster then the blink of an eye, the mangled flesh as easily whole again as it had been melted off. Joar put away his harp after that, drew tighter on himself, grew colder and more distant and more melancholy. His tongue grew sharper, his air of contempt stronger, his humor darker. He sliced at friends with words until they left him, and for those he could not stand to hurt, for Meirin and Lews, he simply let things wither, withholding his affection and his time and his understanding, like sun and water from a disliked plant, with the same result. Something had broken in Joar. The hurt was mended to his skin, but a burn lingered deeper inside of him, tender and red and angry from injustice unanswered and from cruelty unpunished. And the longer it went untended the worse, the bloodier, the more infected by apathy and selfishness and cruelty it grew. He drew back from his friends, to afraid to show them the ache inside of him, not able to stand the thought of the admiration and awe in their eyes turning to pity if they learned the truth. Instead it festered, and festered, and festered, until his infection grew into the malignance men had named The Shadow. Until Joar became Asmodean. His promise had been life everlasting and endless ages of music. That was what the Dark One had offered him in the Pit of Doom, when he had sworn his soul to the Shadow. Maybe, Joar had thought as he spoke the words and felt the bonds of the Dark One’s touch grow tight around him, maybe that would be enough one day. Enough music, enough art, enough beauty, would surely one day mend that burned charred thing inside of him. With an eternity to drink it in, eventually he would be able fill in the gaps beneath his skin that still ached, the space between his organs that itched angry red. He believed it. He had too. He believed it even after he was sealed within the Bore. He believed it even after he was released back into a world that had less the dust remaining of the one he knew. He believed it even as he donned the name Jasin Natael, and was forced to stare into the eyes of a Rand al’Thor, knowing the soul of an old friend lay within him, close enough to cradle between his filthy fingers and yet forever out of reach to him now. He believed it, right up until death took him, and at last released him from the pain of his charcoal heart. That is one story of a man bore the name Jasin Natael. Here is another.

- Untitled Randmodean Piece, WIP

Here have the first page of the fic that I am writing for @darkfeanix in the WoT Not So Secret Santa!

Figured I would post a teaser this time since the process is open this year.

#WoT #Wheel of Time #WoT Book Spoilers #TFOH Spoilers #Asmodean #Randmodean #WoT Fanfic #Wheel of Time Fanfic #WIP #This is legit just the first page of the fic but I couldn't resisit I like it a whole lot

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kumachii · 1 year

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๑՞⇢ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐔𝐑𝐈 ⠇🦜↴

general info -

meaning: flower fence (花垣) , chestnut flower (栗花落)

alias: tsu-chan (friends), hermit crab (takemichi), boss girl (mizo middle gang)

age: 16 (in 2005); 28 (in 2017) [everyone is a little aged up, like by a year or so]

birthday: 3rd may 1989

zodiac sign: taurus

appearance -

hairstyle: black, short and usually tied into pigtails with locks and bangs framing her face

eyes: deep blue (classic hanagaki trait)

build: she is a little taller than average with firm muscles from training at the dojo since she could walk basically

height: 171 cm (5ft 6in)

personality -

overall: she is rather calm and often resorts to diplomacy to solve squabbles but isn't beyond handing someone their ass if need be. tsuyuri is playful, hard-working and mostly reliable (i say that because with the people she hangs out, ain't no way she gets out of shit with ease)

positive traits: caring, unconditionally generous, open-minded, responsible, rational, isn’t afraid to stand up for justice

negative traits: impulsive, stubborn, emotional, non-committal, mildly possessive

fear(s): water - due to an incident where she almost drowned, tripping while chasing a puppy down the bridge overlooking a river. thankfully, a nice white-haired stranger pulled her out by the scruff of her hoodie in the nick of time, saving her. he also gave her a lollipop which she took eagerly, since nobody said anything about taking candy from heroes.

favourite... -

food: yakitori and tonkatsu ramen

color: coral pink

animal: harp(white) seal

style: casual-comfortable. she always needs to be in something she can move around freely. most of the time, she wears her school uniform, a light brown coat/jacket over it and paired with leggings.

hobbies: playing the guitar, creating handmade gifts

relationships -

parents: unnamed mother, hanagaki tsuneo

grandparents: hanagaki tadashi & chiyo (paternal)

sibling: hanagaki masaru (twin brother)

relative(s): hanagaki takemichi (younger cousin); unnamed uncle and aunt

best friend: emma sano

likes -

causing chaos. she may look like an innocent and otherwise pacifying company but she thrives in ruckus and feeds off the hyped energy all around. in retrospect, she can and will cause a fight and make it seem like she was never there to begin with.

karate. tsuyuri and masaru were put in the sano dojo by their father. it was to get them into self-defense and not leave them unsupervised while he was busy at work. since he was a student there himself, he didn't worry about them getting in too much trouble. while masaru was always getting into fights and getting beaten up, tsuyuri loved it there. she would spend hours on end practicing the katas and perfecting her kicks. sure, she wasn't a prodigy but her dedication made her one of mansaku's best students.

cooking. from a young age, she had to learn to cook for herself and her family since her father was a disaster in the kitchen (that man could burn water) and her grandparents lived too far away to send daily meals. she doesn't mind and loved experimenting a lot. by the time she is a teen, she can make restaurant-style dishes with the correct recipe.

backstory -

In the timeline before Takemichi time-leaped, Tsuyuri had grown up just about the same way, meeting Baji and Manjiro at the Sano Dojo and remaining friends through Emma and their shared trainings. Her father being in the force as a detective left her alone for long lengths of time. When she wasn't in cram school or busy with karate, she'd do arts and crafts. It was shopping for one of those projects that led her to meeting Mitsuya in a cloth store. Later she would be present while Toman was formed, an honorary person just as much as her best friend, the president's sister.

Takemichi and her were never close and she found him standoffish so him running away—although it made her sad—did not affect her as much as Baji's death. She would try to carry on with her life, being a rock for both Sano siblings through Shin's death, a lot of their friends' demise and the gang falling apart and being corrupted.

Emma's death was the last straw for her to cut off all relation with her remaining friends, that being Mikey and Mitsuya. She went socially awol for a while, focusing solely on her studies, got through medical school with a surgeon's degree and became a well known doctor in Shibuya.

In the future, she would lose her job—the hospital firing her to save themselves—for standing up and speaking publicly against the disturbing occurrences resulting from gang skirmishes. But she wouldn't give up that easily, up until the day the police would find her with a bullet through her head, the scene meticulously staged as a suicide.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers oc #manjiro sano #emma sano #takemichi sister oc #ken ryuuguji #takashi mitsuya #keisuke baji #hanemiya kazutora #takehina #drakemma #platonic tokyo revengers #no ships decided yet #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader

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boundinparchment · 1 year

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Dream a Little Dream of Me - XII

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. AO3 Chapter is Here.

That hope carried you through the rest of the morning. It got you through a breakfast meeting, plucking bánh bao with difficulty from the serving dishes while coordinating roles during the workshop. Your hands were better as far as pain went but your grip was still weak. After dropping a bun more than once into a different dish, your colleagues settled on you not playing. It didn’t tarnish your mood much; last night gave you a bit of practice on how to frame music to someone more logically-inclined.

If anything, it soared even higher when you received a letter stamped with the familiar sigils from Fontaine. You would recognize your old patron’s seal anywhere and you tucked it away for later; no distractions, at least, nothing further just yet.

Such hope failed to disappear until your section set up your positions on-stage, checked the time, and found most of the seats in the performance hall empty. Well, not entirely empty. A few seats were filled with a cluster of people from Zubayr Theater, according to your manager. Some children, clearly young musicians, were seated towards the front and a cluster of students from the Akademiya were present, too. But all in all, hardly the turnout you expected.

After introducing yourselves, you dove right into the basics, repeating the necessary parts by heart.

“Our instrument is part of a larger classification called a chordophone; that grouping describes a type of instrument that creates sound from vibrating strings when played by a performer,” you began. “Lutes, sitars, zithers, harps, and even the guitar are considered to be chordophones.”

You walked through the parts of the instrument and how it worked, explaining that the strings, either played with a bow or plucked, caused vibrations that bounced around in the wooden body. On and on you went, answering questions from the eager younger musicians in the front and the technical ones from the Theatre group. The students from the Akademiya watched but their line of questions was unexpectedly caustic.

“Wouldn’t it be more effective to–”

“What importance does music hold on a country in the middle of an energy crisis?”

Slowly, it became clear to all of you that the scholars of the Akademiya weren’t in the audience to learn. Your discerning ear caught their low laughs that started every time your colleagues began to play. It was throwing off the rhythm lead ever so slightly and was clearly making the other attendees uneasy. The younger children, one of them fidgety, were far more well-behaved, and you caught glares and looks of sympathy coming from the group in the back.

You watched the performers next to you, finding everyone’s nerves a little bit shot; brows knitted, shoulder stiff, nostrils flared. And then you heard a barely-hidden remark of how it was no wonder Fontaine was suffering as much as it was, if the nation’s money was going into pathetic dreams and unimportant fields of study. Someone’s finger slipped, their concentration broken, and a dissonant chord rang out through the hall, hanging like a fugitive in front of the Hall of Justice.

“If you aren’t here to at least be respectful, you can leave,” you finally snapped, glaring at the students. “No one is keeping you here.”

The two scholars shared a look, heads ducked in embarrassment, before they slipped out of the auditorium. One of them gave a last glance backwards and appeared to be counting. You sighed, ignoring the glare from your manager, who then approached one of the Theater members.

What a waste of time, for both you and the few attendees. You apologized to the children and their guardians but it was clear from their expressions that such an occurrence was hardly new .

How heartbreaking.

You did your best to find the flow again after a quick discussion amongst your section. Just as you finally reached the end of the lecture and the demonstration of the techniques talked about came to an end, the doors at the back slammed open and the harmonious notes squealed as bows slipped from shock at the sudden intrusion.

“This performance will stop at once.”

“What the hell is a Sage doing here…” one of your section members muttered. “We didn’t…”

“We should have known something like this would happen, with the way so many researchers from Fontaine have been whimsically passing through over the years with nary a care. Of course, such a program would lack the sufficient depth to keep its audience intellectually satisfied.”

Everyone grew so still that you swore you could hear the faintest shift of fingers against a fret board, strings flexing in response. Despite the strain in your fingers, you squeezed your hands into fists, holding them there just until your muscle protested before relaxing again. If there was one thing you would never tolerate, it was the hard work you and everyone else accomplished being so easily dismissed as nothing of significance.

“Wait here,” your manager called to the stage. “Sage Azar, why don’t we step outside? There’s little reason for a scene, especially with children around.”

The conversation didn’t last long and when your manager returned, it was clear from the look on their face that things had not gone as expected. When the words left their mouth and you were told to pack up, you felt as if your blood was on fire. How was this fair? How could someone, one of the very scholars who watched over Sumeru, be so easily dismissive of the arts over students being disrespectful?

“Not sufficiently intellectual enough?” you balked. “Students of this very Akademiya were being incredibly disrespectful to both our professions and our homeland. They left without so much as an apology. Was it not part of the agreement that the tour included opportunities for Sumeru’s citizens to “cultivate their wisdom”? That we focus on intellectual value?”

You knew the terms inside and out, if only because all of you had gone through great lengths to ensure that you focused not on the emotional, on the intangible, but rather anything that could be grounded in technique, in proven theory. You continued, enraged. Was the love all of you held for your craft worth nothing? Less than nothing?

“We did just that. And whenever an audience member is being disruptive to others, it is in the best interest of the larger group that they be removed; we are well within our rights to do so. Hell, they probably take the same approach in the classroom. It doesn’t warrant being shut down–”

Someone nearby let out a slow, steady breath through their nose, while another mumbled something in your shared mother tongue. Fontaine was bureaucratic, prone to red tape nightmares, but this?

“Enough,” your manager barked. “I know you feel that what’s happened isn’t right. It’s not. We submitted all our paperwork far ahead of schedule and received confirmation that everything was in order. Our intended topics and permits are on file. If there was an issue, it should have been mentioned months ago,” your manager gestured with open hands. “However, they are letting us keep our payment and it’s in our best interest to not push our luck.”

The trouble that would come otherwise did not need to be spelled out. You were all keenly aware of how strict budgeting was. A discrepancy like that would result in fines and penalties that would stretch on for years.

You fought to control your facial expressions. How could the Sage not only justify the scholars of the very Akademiyia he served but outright consider all of the work, all of the effort, all of the passion, to be worth not knowing and learning about? Impolite behavior and the intrinsic value of the arts were hardly on equal footing to argue over, let alone terminate an agreement.

Was this what Dottore had been getting at? About rigid structures and lack of freedom?

As you packed up, you pretended not to notice the figure in the same box as before, just barely out of sight; you needed to have a talk about how glowing accessories were the furthest things from inconspicuous.

____________________

It wasn’t until hours later, when dinner was served and word already spread about the Akademiya’s decision, that your manager returned to the inn with a stranger in tow. You vaguely recognized him as one of the audience members from earlier in the cluster of performers from Zubayr Theater. The bad news was delivered in-hand with a solution that would not only cover expenses but make good use of the now-empty window of time in the tour schedule.

Your manager was practically beaming. “We’ll be performing alongside the Theatre for the celebration of the Sabzeruz Festival. It’ll give us a chance to learn about the Dendro Archon and see the other side of Sumeru City, beyond the walls of the Akademiya.”

“I should preface,” the stranger, who introduced himself as Sheikh Zubayr, “that the Akademiya does not fund the Festival. If anything, they pretend it doesn’t exist. They have yet to do more than snub their noses at us. But I’ll be in charge of direction and providing guidance for the chosen compositions.”

He continued about the festival itself, a celebration named after the Goddess of Flowers. Initially, it celebrated Greater Lord Rukkhadevata but was now used to commemorate the birth of Lesser Lord Kusanali. Much like Fontaine, Sumeru had lost their original Archon, it seemed; however, the powers that be seemed reluctant to acknowledge the change in power, or even the new Dendro Archon herself. Fontaine, on the other hand, embraced the God of Justice so quickly that it was almost as if her predecessor hadn’t existed except on paper.

Around you, people began to whisper and exchange looks. Excitement danced along the dinner tables in raised eyebrows, smiles, and cheers. A few people didn’t join in the celebration, their looks of concern barely hidden, mouths firm and arms crossed.

“It does push back a few performances but Port Ormos isn’t far. Theoretically, we should still be home on time.”

“Perhaps it might not be for the best to get in the middle of certain sentiments,” someone chimed in; a woodwind player, you recalled. “It’s impossible to not hear how highly scholars talk of the old Archon, of Rukk…ah, merde , I had it earlier…”

“Rukkhadevata,” another voice supplied.

“Yeah, her,” the flutist rubbed the back of her neck. “It just…there seems to be certain sentiments about the arts in general as it is. We might be kicking the hornets’ nest. We’re foreigners, as far as everyone else is concerned…”

“We would only be performing for the festival,” your manager said. “And as I mentioned, it would be a good experience to bring back with us.”

Judging by their tone, arguing was out of the question.

The extended stay in Sumeru City did, however, mean that you might just get more time than expected, assuming the Doctor was even available. He did try to at least provoke you into a fight, regardless of his reasoning and the dream that followed. And even putting that moment aside, it was clear that perhaps he didn’t have the time, or even the wherewithal, for…

Would staying be a good thing? For more than just your career?

You had yet to read the letter from Fontaine, you recalled. Your patron’s seal was unbroken still, pressing against your skin and burning a hole in your pocket.

Before you closed your eyes for the night, you curled up and broke the seal. The wax picked up a layer of the parchment it was attached to and left behind an ugly, rough patch. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you read the looping handwriting before it almost stopped entirely.

A request to resume patronage upon your arrival back in Fontaine with an additional offer to pay you twice your current salary to come back early. Something about playing for important dignitaries and how your presence would be not only a comfort but one that would make the party all the more elegant. In the back of your mind, you knew it would be nothing like the position you held now; patronage was, at times, not unlike pedigree shows people held for horses or dogs. The nobility flaunted their artists and musicians and inventors the same way they flaunted their jewels and furs and silks. A position fit for a Harbinger’s soulmate, certainly, but with all the added trappings of navigating society and its cloak and dagger nonsense.

The timing was quite odd. Everything took a completely different direction in the course of a day with the tour and now your old patron wanted to offer you a place again? So suddenly?

An excited jolt skipped in your chest as your heart gave itself the answer it already knew.

#slowly but surely I will get updates out #soulmate au #il dottore #dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #fic: dream a little dream of me #in case you can't tell yes this is going to go south very very quickly

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sibyl-of-space · 4 months

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youtube

Yesterday, myself and a group of friends released THOUSANDS OF PIXELS IN YOUR HANDS. This is a 6-track collaborative concept album of original art and music themed around the GameBoy Advance console. The album in full is viewable above with timestamps for each piece. For individual track uploads/BandCamp release (planned for the near future), check the NeoCities Page where they will be embedded when available.

Tracklist:

Sealed Chamber by Error Sparrow (Vapor) ft. digital art by DarthButcher

Fuchsia Zone by ZeroJanitor ft. mixed 2D+3D gif by Aaron (AReallyFrog)

When the Levee Remakes by Joey Puricelli (CaptHayfever) ft. mixed media cross stitch by nyankat

My Internal Battery Has Run Dry by Leo ArcanaXIX ft. photography by DarthButcher

Liquid Crystal by Revolver Project ft. digital art by Marcus Bower (SpriteDude)

Adventure's End by Monstrman ft. painting by nyankat

Piece descriptions below readmore.

I. SEALED CHAMBER | Music by Error Sparrow (Vapor) | Digital Art by DarthButcher

Musician Notes: Sealed Chamber is an instrumental ode to the legendary Pokemon of the Gen III pokemon games (Ruby, Sapphire and Emerald), specifically Regirock, Regice and Registeel. It's an ambient, dungeon synth-kinda track meant to capture the mystique of the elaborate quest through Hoenn's secret areas - undersea, underground and elsewhere - that the player undertakes to find all three Regis. The instrumentation is 100% Pokemon RSE soundfont (with some effects and such thrown in).

Artist Notes: Digital watercolor and ink pen using Adobe Fresco on iPad. May has heard the legend of three bionic beasts and finally thinks she has come upon the cave of legend. She has searched far and wide across Hoenn to try to find the entrance and after a series of trials, her quest may prove fruitful. What she doesn’t know is that while she searches for them, they stand alert to her presence ready to pounce when the moment is right. Stylized with inspiration from Ken Sugimori for a watercolor aesthetic, my first time working with the medium.

II. FUCHSIA ZONE | Music by ZeroJanitor | GBA 2D+3D Gif by Aaron (AReallyFrog)

Musician Notes: Inspired by the translucent pink Game Boy Advance model, officially known as the Fuchsia model. Instrument samples are taken from Sonic Advance 3, and the voice samples are from the LingoJam robot voice generator.

Artist Notes: I created this little animation by exporting the frames from Blender, drawing over them in Aseprite, and then exporting them as a gif. I think the gif struggles a little but I’m happy to have gotten to try combining 2d and 3d animation!

If you’re interested in homebrew games for the gameboy family there are a few collections of roms (.gb/.gbc/.gba) on my itch page I try to keep up to date.

III. WHEN THE LEVEE REMAKES | Music by Joey Puricelli (CaptHayfever) | Watercolor + Cross-Stitch Mixed Media by nyankat

Musician Notes: Arr. for voice, jaw harp (x2), shaker, wood handles, bongos, drumkit, & Casio PK-5.

I had the opening lines of the first verse looping in my head for weeks before I finally had time to hash out the rest of it. There really were a metric buttload of remakes on this system; this song cites 38 (though maybe I’m cheating to include Game & Watch Gallery) & that’s just where I stopped researching because I thought I had too much. My nickname for Kirby in verse 3 came from the American NiD commercials, which for some reason used the theme song to the 1960s spy show Danger Man.

Artist Notes: Watercolor on paper and Aida cloth, cross-stitch. As soon as Joey laid out his idea I was inspired to do a mixed-media piece. This is basically a reimagining of the old Pokemon Kanto intro screen, in a forest clearing, with one side cross-stitch/“low res” and the other watercolor/“high res.” I asked Joey what else he might end up referencing besides Pokemon and went from there. (I presented him with a word map before starting the actual design; this piece was an absolute boatload of work. But I’m pleased to say I captured his intended vibe on the first try!) The full piece depicts Nidorino, Kirby, Piranha Plant, and Samus (low res) vs. Gengar, Meta Knight, Baby Mario on Yoshi, and a Metroid (high res). Let me tell ya, stitching on Aida that you’ve already painted is very difficult! But it made for a really cool effect. Thank you for the collaboration (and your patience lol), Joey!

IV. MY INTERNAL BATTERY HAS RUN DRY | Music by Leo ArcanaXIX | Photography by DarthButcher

Musician Notes: My concept for this was to sample sounds from doing a GBA cartridge internal battery surgery and use those sounds as instruments. I took inspiration for the form of the song itself from "Clockwork" from Castlevania: Circle of the Moon, a GBA game with both an internal battery and a banger soundtrack.

Artist Notes: Shot on a Sony a7IV, Sigma 24-70mm f2.8 DG DN, 70mm, 1/40s, f/7.1, ISO 1000. Nothing says cartridge repair more than actually dismantling a cartridge and beginning to conduct surgery. Utilizing photography with a strong key light, contrast of the system on one side and additional cartridges behind it, and some mild post-production to bring out the colors, this piece tells a story of frustration that a beloved game may have seen its last days.

V. LIQUID CRYSTAL | Music by Revolver Project | Digital Art by Marcus Bower (SpriteDude)

Musician Notes: This song began with the intent to write a dark-step inspired drum & bass track using the Game Boy Advance internal synthesis. I set out researching the best homebrew Tracker/DAW for the console, and discovered that my ancient flash cartridge wasn't fully compatible with the majority of them. As a solution, I used a branch of LSDJ which maintained compatibility with the GoombaGB wrapper for GBA.

I opted for a harsh and bright industrial guitar style to compliment the harsh synth and percussion sampling of the GBA, which may sound familiar to older Revolver Project fans. All of the percussion and the majority of the synths were originally voiced using the GBA's internal synth and sample abilities. They were then heavily edited on a PC DAW, into the final sounds you hear. Notable exceptions include some bass sounds, which were created using a semi-modular Behringer Neutron.

I hope after listening to this, you'll be inspired to fire up a GBA and play your favorite Metroid or maybe a racer. Just remember to turn a light on if you're playing on an original model, don't let that LCD stay dark. ☻

Artist Notes: AI was pretty much the perfect match for me, as we’ve worked together many times in the past and we always seem to be on the same wavelength. In fact, he suggested “neon lights and cyberpunk” for the theme of the piece after I had already started drawing just that. Other than that, it’s pretty much just a fast-paced super-foreshortened actiony sci-fi piece. The guy is just a random cyberpunk dude I made up, and the drones are supposed to kinda look like metroids.

VI. ADVENTURE'S END | Music by Monstrman | Acrylic Art by nyankat

Musician Notes: I wanted to make a song that really captured the finality of finishing a game on the GBA. In reality it’s more about the experience of completing all your games in general, but since it’s GBA themed I added some flavor. The intro/outro was written on my guitar first, then I made the rest in my DAW.

Artist Notes: Acrylic on canvas, 8 in. x 8 in. I listened to a very early draft of Tim’s piece, which reminded me of the ending screen of Mega Man 2, where he walks away through different landscapes. This evolved into the piece it is now, with a person facing away from the viewer with a guitar over his back, next to a GBA set on a table and showing the message “Thank you!” I’m not particularly strong in figure drawing, so I asked Tim to pose as a reference, and I think that turned out quite well. I also asked him if he wanted the GBA or the curtains a specific color: The GBA is silver like the one he had growing up, and the curtains are OG GBA blurple. Thank you for the collaboration, Tim!

#gameboy advance #new album #new music #concept album #electronic music #my audio shit #ok last post on this i swear i just wanted to do a proper post now that it's released #ill probably post my track individually later but that can wait #Youtube

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science-lings · 1 year

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femlink headcanons??

Only if you want

Well, my fem!Link isn't too different from her canon counterpart, other than how she's viewed by other people and how that affects her, so a lot of these can be applied to botw/totk Link in general lol.

-Loves Gerudo Town, Urbosa has practically adopted her, they went on molduga hunts pre-calamity, she passes on the legacy to Riju and becomes her white older sister. They go sand seal surfing a lot, Link even has her own sand seal that she leaves in the city when she's not there. She is well known among the Gerudo as the short hylian who carries around monster guts and is always willing to babysit.

-has primary custody of the goddess harp (yk bc of that one concept art of link playing it), and while she can't do any magic with it, she likes to play it when the world is too quiet or she's away from Zelda and is thinking of her.

-Mipha still has a crush on her but with her being both hylian and a woman it's extra forbidden. The Zora are a little more chill about her being a holy prophesized warrior, but not when it comes to marrying into royal families. They just aren't biologically compatible in any way so if they had anything going on it was brief and when they were both young.

-She almost killed Bozai, not like, she held herself back from slicing him in half, but like she beat him within an inch of his life in front of the Gerudo guards. He deserves it.

-Link takes every opportunity presented to her to carry Zelda around, If she falls asleep at her desk or needs help getting on her horse, or if she tripped on a rock, Link will not hesitate to scoop her up in her arms. She kinda loves demonstrating that she is in fact, very strong.

-Aside from the master sword, Link prefers claymores and lynel clubs over spears and shorter swords. While she does look strong, she doesn't look like she's supposed to be able to carry around a weapon and swing it around like she does, I mean, she's still short. No Link can escape that fate.

-Still suffers from the hero-typical mutism, she only really talks to people she really trusts or when she is absolutely pissed. While it's not originating from the pressures of everyone's expectations, it's still bad enough that it affects her everyday life. And because it isn't from everyone putting all their faith in her, it's still extremely prevalent after she wakes from the shrine.

-can pet dogs

-Is actually really good friends with the great fairies, had to have a few conversations about boundaries but they're generally very nice and their actions are more motivated by ignorance to the average hylian experience rather than malice. Sometimes she falls asleep by their flowers because of the calming aura of the spring. It also helps that their magic repels monsters.

that's all for now lol but I would love to come up with more!

#fem!link #Fem!wild au #fem!Zelink #botw #ask andromeda

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