#outlast revisited

[sealrock]

me: hector is part of a small percentage of garleans that have psionic powers to compensate for their inability to manipulate aether, but it weakens greatly with age and causes immense mental strain

also me: *falls into a deep rabbit hole of paranormal pseudoscience and marvel/dc comic power scaling wackiness in an attempt to explain why and how that is in the ffxiv universe, but suspension of disbelief is thrown out the window*

[moimarjani]

Isn't it fascinating to consider whether Leland is actually older than Rick? After all, Leland was in his early 30s in 1956, which technically makes him older.

The information I came across mentioned that Rick was in his late 30s when he became a test subject for the Morphogenic Engine. I don't exactly know which year it was, though. It's time for me to revisit the Outlast comics.

Both became a test subject in their 30s.

[scratchandplaster]

The first Outlast game and it's Whistleblower DLC were such a whump awakening for me.

It's literally a first-person whump simulator with all of the classic tropes: you have a yandere who wants to marry (and mutilate) you, a "doctor" and his experiments that chase you around his lab (and want to mutilate you), corrupt businessmen, brainwashing, mind control, cannibalism, supernatural elements, religious themes and ALL the non-con drugging you could wish for.

It's just always fun to revisit these games. All hurt no comfort till the end, I guess.

[ryuichirou]

what fandoms were you in long before twisted wonderland? I mean like over 10 years ago.

Anon, thank you for this question because it made us sit down and actually look through the albums of my old art and write a list LOL We thought it’d take like 30 minutes tops + 10 minutes to write all of this down, but it took 2+ hours yikes… So sorry, no other replies today :(

And made us realise just how much we revisit certain fandoms 🤦‍♂️ I guess we’re loyal!

Some of them were just very brief phases when we watched/rewatched something, I drew like 5 sketches for this thing and we moved on after about a week. But it was still prominent enough for us to feel like “Oh right, Ryu was drawing (this) back then”. Damn, 2013-2016 were insane, we were jumping around so much… When did these people have time to watch and draw so much shit??

Since this blog is very old, you can find some of my very old shitty fanart for a lot of those here. In all honesty, I really want to draw fanart on some of the more obscure and old ones again… if you have questions about any of this, feel free to ask!

2007: W.I.T.C.H., Oban Star Racers, Naruto lol my very young years

2008: Petshop of Horrors, Yami no Matsuei, Gravitation

2009: Hetalia, Vocaloid

2010: Vocaloid, Terra e…, Shoujo Kakumei Utena, Hetalia

2011: Terra e, Kaze to Ki no Uta, Sound Horizon, Hetalia, Magi (mostly Judal), Kuroshitsuji (a little bit)

2012: Homestuck, Prince of Tennis, Sengoku Basara, Sound Horizon, DC (Batman + Robin, mostly Tim Drake), Thor, Danny Phantom, Amnesia: The Dark Descent, ATLA, Adventure time, D. Gray-Man

2013: Ed Edd n Eddy, Sound Horizon, Penumbra Overture, Lucius, Thor, Hetalia, Dan Vs, Hannibal, Shingeki no Kyojin, Death Note, Bakuman, Neon Genesis Evangelion, South Park, Durarara, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Litchi Hikari Club, Hellsing Ultimate, Yami no Matsuei, Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei, Game of Thrones, Hannibal, the Simpsons

2014: Kuroko no Basket, Hadaka Shitsuji, Hoozuki no Reitetsu, Gravitation, Shingeki no Kyojin, Tytania, Panty&Stocking, Soul Eater, Bleach, Kill la Kill, Hellsing Ultimate, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood,  Ace Attorney (trilogy + Apollo Justice), Priapus (by Mentaiko/Itto lol I drew him a lot), Togainu no Chi, Outlast, Daria, Scooby Doo, Haikyuu, DMMD, Katekyō Hitman Reborn, Tokyo Ghoul, Free, Kuroshitsuji, Psycho-Pass, Yowamushi Pedal (HUGE!!!!!), D. Gray-man, One-Punch Man

2015: Metalocalypse, ATLOK, Gravity Falls, Guns n’ Roses (yeah the band), Hannibal, Steven Universe, View Askewniverse, the Addams family, Ace Attorney Dual Destinies, DMMD, Life is Strange, Over the Garden Wall, Rick & Morty, South Park, Miraculous Ladybug, Undertale, Watchmen

2016: Supernatural, Peanuts, Osomatsu-san, Outlast, Until Dawn, BioShock Infinite, Code Geass, LoTR, Game of Thrones, Hetalia, House MD, Zootopia, Shingeki no Kyojin, D. Gray-man, Hellsing Ultimate, LA Noir, Percy Jackson books, South Park

2017: American Horror Story, Danganronpa, Neon Genesis Evangelion, ATLA, Homestuck, Yuri on Ice (super briefly), Outlast 2, D. Gray-man, DMMD, Hetalia, Gravitation, Monster, Dream Daddy, Junji Ito, Boku no Hero Academia, Osomatsu-san, South Park, Hannibal

2018: Voltron, Danganronpa, Devilman (Crybaby and classic), Homestuck, Berserk, Gravitation, Bungo Stray Dogs (briefly), Gintama, Hellsing Ultimate, Hetalia, BTS, Priapus (he came back), LoTR, Togainu no Chi, Sweet Pool, Detroit Become Human

2019: Tanya Grotter books, Hannibal, Homestuck, D.Gray-man, Hunter x Hunter, Danganronpa, Durarara, ACCA: 13-Territory Inspection Dept., Soul Eater, ATLA, Witcher 3, Shingeki no Kyojin

2020: Shingeki no Kyojin, briefly Uncharted 4 and BioShock Infinite

2021: Shingeki no Kyojin, ATLA, Sk8, Jujutsu Kaisen, Squid Game

2022: The Great Ace Attorney, Sadistic Beauty, Hades, Mirai Nikki (suddenly), Akira, Encanto, the Gray House (the House In Which, it’s a book),  Cowboy Beebop, Fight Club, It (2017), Stranger Things, LoTR, Uncharted, Hetalia, Frozen (more like Hans/Anna lol), Kuroshitsuji, Twisted Wonderland

2023-2024: Mostly Twisted Wonderland, but we also posted some Scott Pilgrim stuff at the very beginning of this year.

I guess this is it. Woah…

[butchladymaria]

Immortality, Motherhood, and Pain: A Closer Look at Annalise and the Doll

Finally revisiting this from ages ago, because the parallels between these two are just SO fascinating. Content warnings for discussions of misogyny, genocide, abuse, and pregnancy/childbirth.

This analysis will cover the parallels between Miss Doll and Queen Annalise through the lenses of the misery of immortality, the trauma of marginalization, and the liberation they find in motherhood. Both the Doll and Annalise are undying, both coded as mother figures, both marked by death, and both very, very alone.

Miss doll and Annalise are the only characters in the whole game who are undying. You can kill them, but not meaningfully - not in any way that matters - and they seem to know it. Neither will try to stop you, nor will they fight back, should you choose to attack them. They will come back, and your violent betrayal will have seemingly meant nothing to them. They both are very aware they will outlast whatever violence you may inflict upon them. It's evidenced in their dialogue:

If you attack, Annalise says:

“Enough. If only Our life was so easily forfeit… Grieve not, for Us.” “How sad this is. If only Our life was so easily forfeit…”

If you attack Miss Doll, she used to say:

“I must have displeased you. Go on, shut me down… Even so, this vessel will remain in your service… So have no fear."

I think this point of comparison highlights just how deeply they've both been desensitized to violence and abuse. They do not beg for mercy, they do not put up a struggle - they only remark on it with distant chagrin. They both seem keenly aware that their flesh need not be in one piece to fulfill its purpose.

But where Miss Doll was made to embody the Victorian patriarchal ideal of womanhood, Annalise wields womanhood as her last weapon against the dehumanization of the church’s genocide through her queendom. Upon being resurrected the next time you return to the dream, Miss Doll will act as though nothing had happened at all. However, if you bring her flesh to the Altar of Despair, Annalise will call you an arrant fool, and remind you that “Vileblood or no, forget not; We are thy Queen”. Miss Doll kneels to serve the hunter, while the hunter must kneel to serve Annalise. Miss Doll has been conditioned to passively accept dehumanization and submission, yet Annalise demands respect through your submission even in her dehumanized state. Miss Doll is subjugated by the trappings of womanhood, while Annalise is lifted from subjugation by her womanhood, in some ways.

I find this fascinating, however, because while Miss Doll appears in every way as a pure, demure Victorian woman was meant to, they are also dehumanized through the denial of gender. To Gerhman, their creator, they are nothing more than another tool of the workshop. An object. Even the Doll themself uses neutral "I" pronouns to refer to themself in the original translation. I think it is pertinent to note that the only canonical reference to Miss Doll as a "woman" comes from Eileen. In the original Japanese text, she refers to the Doll with a term of endearment reserved for young girls. Miss Doll's appearance is the historical ideal of the subjugated woman - yet when Eileen confers upon her the status of "woman", she does so in an endearing and humanizing way. Therefore, for both Miss Doll and Queen Annalise, the status of womanhood is a rebuttal of their own dehumanizing subjugation: Annalise as "queen", and Miss Doll as "daughter".

Both characters are arguably seeking/find liberation through motherhood. Miss Doll gets "Childhood's Beginning": their creator and animator have both been put down, the hunt is finally over and they are no longer bound to serve its participants, nor must they watch their beheadings. They cradle the newly ascended hunter. It is a highly atypical “motherhood”. It exists in the performance of the role rather than the biology of childbirth. In the same way, the Doll possesses a highly atypical “womanhood” which exists in performance alone, rather than in biology or even identity — but nonetheless, it is real, and it is hers. I, perhaps too optimistically, choose read it as humanizing for them; because unlike their “womanhood”, Miss Doll is allowed to choose this for themself rather than having it imposed upon them.

In the same vein, Annalise seeks to birth a child of blood for a similar but perhaps more somber reason. She wants a child because she wants an heir — which is to say, because it is the only way she may once again have kin. Because it is the only way she may fulfill her duty as Queen. She witnessed everyone she ever knew or loved — surely her own family included — slaughtered before her eyes. Annalise seems to seek motherhood in order to be a homemaker - in the most literal sense possible. She wants to rebuild the community, the home, which was so brutally torn away from her. She wishes to restore honor to Cainhurst. For Annalise, having a child is an open act of rebellion against the genocidal eugenics-frenzied bloodthirst of the Church. I can't help but wonder if part of the reason Alfred is so hellbet on destroying her, why the Executioners imprisoned her the way they did, was to strip her of bodily autonomy so she couldn’t “reproduce”. Her desire for a child is her way of seeking liberation for her and her people.

In this sense, taking up the role of a mother, of "women's work", is what confers the agency upon both Annalise and Miss Doll which had been otherwise stripped from them. Annalise's by the genocidal eugenics of the Church, and Miss Doll by the pact of servitude she was seemingly born into.

[brybryby]

Hi hi! So I’ve been outlining a Video Essay to inspect Outlast’s portrayal of the relationship between US capitalism and queerness (along with immigration/xenophobia due to Trials coming up) and…

…I was initially going to keep it private within my IG circle, but after spending hours searching up academic articles and master’s theses discussing heteronormativity and social theory—as well as revisiting textbooks from the few philosophy and gender/racial studies courses I took from university—I’ve decided that I’d like to share here also!

It’s in the process, but I want to put a lot of care into it since JT Petty’s writing is incredibly interesting to me, while also dissecting the material from a brown, queer perspective and being someone who was born/raised in the US from a family of immigrants. (I’m not trying to push an “agenda”, but I think my background is a pretty good reflection of where my values lie lol). Another reason I’m putting a lot of care into this is because I understand that the franchise’s narratives and stories get into intensely heavy topics/themes, and it would pain me if I were to misinterpret and/or cast certain plots in such a way that is unfair, ignorant, harmful, and overall awful.

Because of this, I’d like to open up this post and my DMs to any constructive conversation surrounding these themes in the games/comics! I’ll be posting questions & argument points gradually so feel free to wait to discuss in the specifics in those.

A huge reason I’m doing this is because a lot of people who know me irl know I hyperfixate on this franchise, and I fear that their surface level interpretation of that would just be chalked up to me liking/endorsing f-ed up stuff (which I adamantly say is NOT the case—I think we all know that a dissection of horrors and traumatic events can be therapeutic and empowering). With the video essay, I want to explain that my hyperfixation is related to the nuanced themes in the narratives, especially regarding gender/queerness and social theory.

Plus it’s been a while since I’ve written something in an academic-style with citations, peer analysis, etc.! I forget how enriching it can be.

I’ll admit that I’m not a very opinionated person (and I think I tend to error on being critical of my own opinions). My ultimate goal here is to spread empathy and share a wide variety of perspectives from many backgrounds. Additionally, I respect JT Petty for being so daring to tackle heavy/“taboo” themes in film, cinema, etc. and I want to show my appreciation. I’m not necessarily endorsing anything—instead, I’d like to understand the stories as an art, understand it’s intentions, and inspect how it affects different communities.

Plus I think this video essay process will be fun! Idk, I hope this doesn’t come off as self-righteous or anything LOL—or maybe it does so please make fun of me, I need to be humbled.

Alrighty, thanks y’all. Hope you have a fantastic rest of your day/night!

[gyozumaki]

I AM A FUCKING G O D

BOW DOWN, VARIANTS

Got bored after some Outlast Trials (sacrilege, ik) and decided to revisit the original. Felt silly and BEAT INSANE MODE FIRST FUCKING TRY

I'VE SPENT SO MANY HOURS PERFECTING MY STRATEGY AND IT PAID OFF

YYYEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHH 🔥🔥🔥🔥

[achillesheelll]

Watching playthroughs of the closed beta for Outlast Trials made me wanna revisit Richard Trager 🙏 i haven’t drawn him in two years

[hazelnut-u-out]

here you go, @thesoftboiledegg !!

this was a pretty challenging oneshot for me to write for a lot of reasons lol. for some reason i couldn't get into the groove of how i wanted to write this narrative and it was difficult to find the right flow. i think it turned out okay, despite me being like this for half of the time i was writing it:

i might revisit this prompt and make a better attempt at some point!

i hope you like it!! :))

-angst and blood and all that jazz

-3334 words

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

Rick was hunched over a circuit board, screwdriver in his right hand. He felt as if he were about to pop under the pressure of the incessant heat pressing down in the air of the garage. He sighed, setting down the tool and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. His brow furrowed in frustration, his mouth swallowing around a dry tongue. His other hand splayed out flat on the table and he shifted the position of his bottom on the chair. His feet were going numb.

Rick took a quick glance over at Morty.

He found himself doing that more and more often- making sure he was still there next to him. His mind was a fickle old thing, finding ways to pull his threads and fray his edges.

Morty sat, curled up in the floor to the right of his grandfather’s feet. His back to the cabinet doors, he was a little crooked mess of childlike limbs facing the shelf across the room- all grubby and dirty from their last adventure. His eyes were wide, his chin tucked back, as he focused intently on his handheld gaming console. Rick almost smiled. He was glad that a part of Morty’s sense of childhood had managed to outlast his onslaught of abuse- his parent’s torrent of neglect.

His tiny hands were wrapped and angled around the thing in a jagged sort of way. The ring finger on his right hand had a bandage wrapped around its center knuckle. He’d asked Rick to put it on there while they were out earlier because he hadn’t had access to his healing rays.

Rick needed an excuse to stop working anyway.

The old man groaned as he stood, lifting his hands above his head and stretching. His joints popped and cracked as his muscles wrestled with his bones.

Morty let out a quiet huff of a laugh from the floor, and Rick shot him a calculated but half-hearted glare. Morty didn’t bother looking up, but almost as if he’d sensed Rick’s expression anyway, he let out a playful remark.

“Geez, Rick! Yo-you’re old as hell, huh?”

Rick had never particularly minded his age, so the comment didn’t bother him in the slightest. Still, he felt some sort of odd inclination, almost as if he were this boy’s parent, to chastise him.

He kept catching himself by surprise with his instinct to parent Morty lately. He knew the kid deserved some semblance of parental guidance. Needed it, more like.

“Watch your mouth, you li-little shit,” Rick spoke sternly but not harshly, reaching out with his foot to poke Morty’s thigh with the tip of his loafer.

Morty giggled, but didn’t protest.

Rick stalked over to the shelf, rummaging through a box. Finding what he’d meant to, he closed his fingers around the item and spun, holding it out in front of him in a loose grip.

“Get your ass up and c’mere,” Rick murmured, head hunkered down to adjust the settings on the gadget in his grasp before he raised his stare back up to his grandson.

“R-Riiiiick,” Morty whined. “Please? Not right now? I’m in the middle of- I’m about to win this game!” The boy stuck his tongue out of the side of his teeth and bit it in focus, his cheeks growing red with fervor as he let out sharp puffs of air from his nose and his rapid assault on the buttons increased. “And-And since when do you give a shit about whether or not I curse?”

“Awww, I’m sor- so sorry that y-your grandpa wants to heal your cuts before th-they get fucking infected,” Rick crooned, tone dripping with exasperation and sarcasm. “Since now? N-Now drop the game and get the fuck over here.”

Morty let out a long, exasperated sigh. He shut the console abruptly and stood, slamming it down onto the work bench. Finally, he turned and stomped over to his grandfather defiantly, white shoes smacking the concrete floor of the garage with every step.

He looked up through a furrowed brow, expression mirroring Rick’s, and it was everything Rick could do not to laugh. Instead, the elder settled on another light scolding.

“Hey! That console w-was like… four hundred bucks in that alien curr-currency, Morty! Don’t sla-throw it around like that!” Rick reached out and took Morty’s injured hand in his own. He could feel his calloused fingers scrape over Morty’s soft skin, much like his very existence left abrasions all over his grandson.

Rick was broken, and when you’re broken you can’t help the jagged pieces that jut out of you. For a long time, Rick had told himself that the blood of the people around him pooling at his feet was a testament of his love for them- his dedication to them demonstrated in his ability to hurt them now instead of later.

Recently, he’d begun to wonder if that was all a lie he’d told himself to make himself feel better about the way he left innocence slaughtered in his wake.

Rick was not a kind man. He was ignorant of the magnificent and abrupt in the presence of gentleness. For far too long, he thought, he’d reveled in the tang of his prey’s blood on his tongue.

He would hunt them down, chew them up, and swallow them- and he loved it. He was a natural born predator.

Well… maybe not. A part of him remembered being soft- comfortable and trusting. Someone who felt no need to maim or slaughter.

Either way, he had grown to love the art of the kill. He loved feeling like the most powerful being alive- as if he were God and those around him were groveling for his mercy.

Except he was a god of vengeance- not of love.

Something about Morty, though, had confused him- left him scared.

For the first time in forever, he was content to go to bed with his belly empty. For some reason Rick couldn’t explain, the taste of Morty’s blood on his tongue was sickening. For the first time, he couldn’t bring himself to swallow- he didn’t like this; didn’t want this.

Morty… didn’t even try to fight back. It wasn’t fun to devour something that didn’t scream and squirm- try to wriggle away. Morty was the type of lamb to willingly lay himself upon the altar, ready to bleed himself out for Rick if that’s what he thought it would take for Rick to be better- to be happy.

It just made you feel like shit to eat something like that. A meal you didn’t have to work for.

Rick hated himself at first- for not being able to break and batter that little boy without regret reeling through his form; for not relishing the cracks and pops of fragile bones crushing in his maw.

The worst part of it all? Morty should have been Rick’s last meal.

Rick should have been ravenous by now- foaming at the mouth and rabid as he stalked him. And… there he was. A plump rabbit, oblivious in a clearing. Rick was a wolf, starving and drooling.

He’d pounced, torn into his tender flesh, but-

Something didn’t feel right.

Now… here he was- gently cradling that boy’s delicate hand in his own, and he was happy to heal him.

The only thing he craved was to protect him.

A wolf guarding his rabbit so that it may feel safe enough to play in the meadow.

Rick carefully removed the plaster from Morty’s finger and threw it to the ground, holding the small device over the miniature hand atop his own and slowly letting the ray of light travel along the edges of the wound until it was healed.

“Rick, that w-was literally like a papercut,” Morty teased, rolling his eyes and pulling his hand away to flex it in the air between them. The boy studied his hand, almost as if checking that his limb was still his own- if he recognized it. Rick feigned a grimace at Morty’s unthankful attitude, turning to stuff the gadget back into the box he’d drawn it from. “Thanks, Grandpa.”

It was a quick, quiet utterance, as if Morty were testing the way it felt on his tongue. Rick paused for a moment, back to the child, when the words snaked their way over to him, as if he were testing the way it coated his ears.

Then, he heard Morty shuffle back over to the workbench, and he offered himself a nod of approval.

He could be “Grandpa,” if that’s who that boy needed him to be.

With a sigh, Rick turned. He took two quick strides to the table and snatched up the console just as Morty’s seedy fingers were about to close around it.

“H-Hey!” Morty shouted, whirling to face his grandfather. The defiant expression he’d worn earlier now settling back over his features.

“Uh-uh, little man,” Rick tutted, smirking a bit and holding the game far above his head as Morty attempted to jump for it. The boy bumped into his torso, slamming the palms of his hands into the base of Rick’s ribs fruitlessly. “It’s bath time. You smell- you stink like death. Then, dinner. Th-Then, if you’re good and help Grandpa with some repairs to his particle beam wristwatch, you can ha- can play your game s-some more.”

Morty stopped jumping, opting instead to lean against the edge of the table and cross his arms. Not meeting Rick’s gaze, he muttered, “O-Oh cut the ‘good grandpa’ shit, Rick. Y-You never cared before so ju-just lemme play the game?”

Morty shifted to look up at Rick through his lashes, pouting and putting out his hand.

Just as Rick was about to give in and hand the boy the console, the tell-tale sound of a portal opening resounded throughout the garage. The green light illuminated Morty’s face, making him look pallid and even more grimy in the neon hue. It was Morty’s expression that Rick processed first, as his gaze shifted from Rick’s and instead to what lay behind the elderly man’s spindly frame.

Morty’s pout dropped, his eyes going wide.

Rick knew. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did.

His heart sank and he felt bile threaten to rise up, burning his throat. He spun around to face him.

There he was.

Rick.

The Rick who had taken everything from him.

The gaming console rattled to the ground.

The other man stood in front of the swirling vertical halo, the green light dancing along his silhouette.

The odd thing about this Rick is that he never looked… scary.

Rick had always thought that he looked friendly- as if you could trust him. Now, the old man didn’t think any differently. If he had squinted, he could have sworn he saw the drool dripping from the pointed teeth of his toothy grin.

He was salivating at the sight of his prey.

It was then that Rick realized the other man’s gaze wasn’t on him- that glint in his eye was aimed at someone much lower to the ground.

Someone peeking out from behind his grandfather’s frame.

Rick felt as if it were impossible to breathe, the air in the garage that had just been rolling with heat cooling his blood down until he was sure it was frozen in his veins.

There was a long moment of silence, and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears.

Rick reached behind him, aiming to tuck Morty back further so that he could use his body to shield him, but his arm hit nothing.

He felt his heart drop.

He threw a frantic glance over his shoulder, looking for Morty, when he saw a flash of yellow fly around to rest in front of him.

“S-Stay behind me, Rick!” Morty yelled rebelliously, planting himself firmly in front of Rick, back pressing against him and his feet splayed in a wide stance- ready to pounce. In front of him he held… a gun?

Rick didn’t want to think about when the boy had acquired the weapon. Here, now, Morty looked into the eyes of the other Rick with sinister, cold calculation. His gun was aimed right for his head.

Rick wasn’t sure what to do. He felt as if snatching Morty up and tucking him away would give away too much of a spot of vulnerability- show the heel to nick.

Instead, he drew in a shaking breath as Morty began to speak again, the other Rick’s sinister laugh rumbling along the air between the two.

“I-If you th-think I’m gonna let you touch my grandpa, then-“

“Your grandpa?” The other man said with a sense of comical bewilderment, bringing his hand up to press against his forehead and letting out another dark laugh. He bent over at the center, wiping away fake tears, as Rick slowly wound one of his hands into the back of Morty’s shirt. He made sure to twist it tightly in case he needed to yank him up and run. “Buddy, this little fucker is cute, isn’t he?!”

The portal snapped shut with a pop, and the younger man stepped forward, leaning down and smiling right in Morty’s face. Morty let out a strange sort of whining sound. Rick could feel him shaking, the gun making an odd type of clattering sound in his hands as he moved it to keep his aim.

The other Rick straightened, making eye contact with Rick briefly before circling around the pair. He looked them up and down, as if taking inventory of what spices he would need to add to the pot he planned to cook them in.

Rick didn’t think that either him or Morty were breathing. The air seemed to hang still around them- like a blanket on a hot summer night. His jaw hurt from how intensely it was clenched. He didn’t think he could speak even if he wanted to.

The other Rick reached out, tussling Morty’s hair, “Nah, little guy. I’m here fo-“

The sound of the gun firing filled the room, and the other Rick collapsed to the ground. The blood that seeped out of his skull pooled along the concrete, painting his powder blue hair a deep crimson.

Morty whirled, sobbing, and threw himself into Rick. The gun fell to the ground.

Rick knelt, enveloping Morty in his slender arms as the child let sobs shake through his body and seep into the elder’s bones.

The rabbit who had to hunt.

Rick raised one hand and nestled it into Morty’s hair, pulling him tight into the crook of his shoulder.

Then, a rustling from the ground. Rick looked up and…

No. Fuck.

The younger man was standing again, a bloody spot between his eyes and the bright red coating his hair and trickling down his face the only indication of what happened. He looked down at the bullet he swirled between his thumb and forefinger in impish delight.

“Holy fuck!” he barked out, laughing again and shaking his head. He tossed the bullet to the other side of the garage and it bounced off of the wall with a small clang.

Morty jumped at the man’s words, slowly turning to look at him again. Rick loosened his grip a bit, but kept his hands clasped firmly to Morty’s shoulders.

“I knew the little turd would be cooler than I thought! You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo, but it’s in your blood. Don’t sweat it,” the younger man said with a wink.

Morty’s sniffling grew quieter.

“Baby killing isn’t in my blood, yo-you bitch,” Morty spat.

“Funny way to say hi to your grandpa,” the other Rick said, crouching down and kicking the gun away, flashing a serrated beam only inches from Morty’s face.

Rick took a deep breath, urging himself to speak.

“Y-you can go now,” Rick managed. His voice came out calm and collected, his back straightening as he stood and his chest puffing out.

The younger man’s gaze shifted to meet Rick’s, genuinely lazy and hooded compared to Rick’s feigned disinterest. “I was just planning on it!”

He said cheerfully, extending a hand towards Morty. The boy flinched away, pushing his back in to Rick’s stomach. Rick’s hands tightened on his shoulders momentarily.

“Touch him again, you die,” Rick’s voice came out laced with venom. The other Rick’s hand stalled in the air, his fingers twitching a bit.

“Y’know, I never thought I wanted one of these things but…” the younger man stood, taking a few steps back. “Now that I’m lookin’ at him it’s just… well… are you the type to rescue stray dogs?”

Suddenly, the younger Rick flexed his wrist, and a small dart flew across the room. It made contact with Morty immediately, his little body writhing for a moment as it fell to the floor before going completely still.

Rick fought back the urge to catch him, to kneel by him on the ground and curl his body over him. Then, the other Rick stooped and grabbed one of Morty’s ankles, pulling his limp body over to him and slinging him over a shoulder.

Rick immediately flexed, readying his implants to wreak havoc before the other man said coolly, not even bothering to look up from the portal gun he now held in one hand, “Try any of that shit, and I’ll take her again.”

Rick froze, a lump forming in his throat. Tears stung his eyes.

“Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

“Please…” Rick croaked out, barely more than a throaty whisper. Tears were kissing his cheeks now, though their gentle touches did little to console him.

“Hmmm…?” the younger man hummed, not an ounce of malice in his tone.

“P-Please… don’t-don’t take him…” Rick curled his hands into fists, fingernails digging into the skin of his palms and biting sharp crescent moons there. He could feel the warmth of the blood that coated the tips of his digits.

“Pray for it.”

Rick drew in an unsteady breath, shards of glass tearing at his lungs. He sent the other man the dirtiest look he could muster, before sinking to his knees. He brought his shaking hands together to clasp in front of him and bowed his head. He felt the presence of the other man slink closer, standing in front of him. His boots clacked against the floor.

“P-Please, don’t-“

“Please, who?” the other man spat, a dark tone dripping from his words now.

“…Please, G-God,” the word was heavy and sour on his tongue. “Don’t take- Don’t take him.”

Rick reeled backward as the hard steel toe of the other man’s boot collided with his mouth. Blood poured over his tongue and his teeth ached. His hands flew to shield his face and he could have sworn he swallowed down a gulp of blood that had a jagged piece of his tooth in it.

He looked up, eyes wide, and the other man smiled down at him.

“Kiss it,” he said sweetly, bringing his bloody shoe back up and pressing it against Rick’s lips painfully.

Rick glared up at him, but did as he was told.

He shakily took the boot in his trembling grasp and kissed it.

“P-Please,” he breathed over the leather, blood splattering across his lips and dripping down his chin.

The other Rick yanked his foot back, leaving Rick to clamber for stability as he swayed forward, catching himself with is hands.

Rick shot his head up, confused.

“Oh my god, dude!” the other man laughed, still holding Morty’s limp frame atop his shoulder. “What a show!”

He turned and shot a portal, going to step through it.

“W-Wait! No fair!” Rick sputtered, sucking air through his teeth and frantically trying to find his footing.

“Oh, don’t worry! I’ll be back!” The other man called out brusquely, allowing the green swirl to envelop him. With a quick turn over his shoulder and a wink he sang, “Forgot how fun you were...”

[floralcrematorium]

I don't know if youve answered this before, but what made you come back? I'm not that old in the fandom, maybe half a year and it's so interesting how that fandom changed and how it used to be.

Thanks for the ask! I'm gonna be real with you, it was an accident. This is about to be a loooooooong ass post so I'm putting it beneath the cut:

It happened steadily in July. A very slippery slope.

I left in or around 2018 just because I lost interest. A friend in 7th grade introduced me to it in early 2014. I had been running my Instagram account since Summer of 2014 with my best friend (who at the time had been my partner, and by 2018 we had broken up) and our other friend. We'd all moved on and the account became dead. It wasn't a good account, but we'd amassed 1.1k followers during our tenure. Those were the days of if you wanted to post a comic, there were no Instagram slides. You had to post it all individually. The account was deleted in 2021? I think? 2020?

So come July 2023, I was poking around in my old Google Drive and found some of my old Hetalia stuff. Which included a fic with the aforementioned friends. It uh. Is not good. I reread it and oh boy is it a product of its time (we were probably 13-15 when we wrote it) and it was a 3 way POV that we all wrote with self insert characters. It was basically Heta characters get thrown in the setting of Outlast but with the plot of FNAF. Yeah. So uh. Not much to defend there. I jokingly went to my friends like "Hey, what if we rewrote this but not horrible" and we genuinely thought about it! For a night.

But for me it wasn't one night.

I kept thinking about it.

And one thing led to the next, I was revisiting old Youtube videos I liked and reread a fic I used to like.

I think what really did me in was listening to the character songs again and a couple of hetaloid covers. I was doing artfight and listening only to Hetalia music while I drew.

I genuinely did not really use my normal Tumblr before floralcrematorium came to be. I have an entirely separate account for personal stuff and art (I will not be sharing it) and it got to a point where I was seeking so much Hetalia stuff that I figured, why the fuck not, and eventually made an account. I also eventually made my first A03 account (I was on Wattpad and FFN back in the day) because someone wrote a CanUkr fic where Mattie had overexerted himself and was in the hospital and Katya and Alfred were going to kill him because he kept insisting he could work (I CANNOT FIND THIS FIC AGAIN, I FOUND IT ON TUMBLR ORIGINALLY, PLEASE HELP IF THIS RINGS A BELL!!).

And uh, so here I am!

I draw Hetalia stuff on occasion (I should... draw more considering that's what I went to college for but whatever) and have a couple of ideas for illustration series in my head.

I've got a lot of fic ideas I want to write. I have a literal list on my phone. I think about it in bed, at work, and little things remind me of Hetalia all the time.

I've gotten back into RP (I used to use Shamchat and Kik).

I've met so many cool people and I've been having a wonderful time being back so far. When I was originally in the fandom, I consumed a lot of content, but as far as mutuals went it was just me and my two friends. Meeting so many new people has been absolutely wonderful.

Hetalia is really the only fandom I've been in. I've liked other media and consumed fics/enjoyed art/bought prints (COUGH RWBY), but Hetalia is the only media I've ever had fan accounts for. It's the only media I've so deeply entrenched myself in that I feel comfortable writing fics. My walls used to be covered in Hetalia -- both official wall scrolls and shitty art I'd made myself (I have pictures I can attach at the end of the post). I had... so much merch. When I was 14 I only asked for Hetalia related things for my birthday. Every now and again I get that "am I doing the right thing?" ick because of the negative fandom reputation and reactions I'd get from people when I would admit to having liked Hetalia in the past, but I don't care about that now. Genuinely, fuck that. I like this piece of media whether I want to or not. I'm not going to be a self-hating Hetalia fan like I was in 2018-2021/22. I've come back to the show with completely different... motives? Idk what the right phrase is here -- I'm here to explore the characters of these little freaks (looking at you, Francis), I love all of the fanart I see, I like the exchange of historical and cultural information/resources.

Sure, I'd consider my fandom niche to be humanverse Francis and FACE fam, but I genuinely enjoy exploring outside of my corner of the fandom. I try to spread myself out -- I want to consume everything. I want to be exposed to everything.

Hetalia is one of the single most impactful pieces of media in my life. Without it, I wouldn't have my best friend, who broke up with me for APH Austria in 2015. The friends I ran the Instagram account with and I are all still in contact. I talk to one much more frequently than the other, but they are both so near and dear to my heart and I can't believe that this silly show is what got us to where we are. The youngest of us is about to graduate college a whole year early. I met her when she was 11 and I was 12 or 13? I couldn't be more proud of her, of the three of us, and it's been so fun to have these occasional nights where we (okay, just me) get tipsy and go through old fandom media/watch the dub and go ooooof. I was in a really bad place when I was originally into Hetalia. Coming back now feels like coming full circle.

The old fandom had plenty of its own issues, and the fandom now certainly isn't devoid of issues, but now that the fanbase has shifted to an older audience and I actually have like. Social skills. I love talking to other people. I like creating. I like thinking about these stupid characters before I go to bed.

My single favorite thing about the Hetalia fandom now is the care put into historical work as well as the exploration of portrayals of the characters. Because Hetalia lacks a plot and Hima is constantly retconning things, everyone has their own interpretations of everything. Everyone has their own version of Francis Bonnefoy, Yao Wang, or Alfred F. Jones. And that's so cool!!! You don't see that anywhere else.

I know I'm typically a pessimist on main, but I'm genuinely glad to be back. It's weird to be back. I've had mixed reactions from irl friends that I'm back.

But who the fuck cares?

I'm having fun, I'm making friends, and I can't believe there are still people here.

I genuinely hope I'm here for a while. I have so much I want to write. I want to draw all of the things my skill level was too low for back when I was a teen.

CRINGE IS DEAD AND I AM FREE.

The following images are certainly about to destroy any cool perception anyone has of me, if they even do. I was... certainly a teenager, is all I have to say! I am,,, thankfully not like this anymore. I hope.

Here are those pictures of my bedroom circa 2015 I promised:

DO NOT ASK ME ABOUT THE LIVE LAUGH LOVE.

That drawing of Russia with Neko-Talia Russia? Yeah. Uh. I did that for an art project in the 7th grade for class. I also did a ceramics piece with the mochis, that I've since lost. These images scream "I'm 14 and like Hetalia in 2015."

I used to have little hearts with all the ships I liked in them (I think that's AusHun in the picture on the left?). I also had "I love you" written in like 20 languages on index cards taped above my headboard.

Also a literal timestamp I found in my old emails with the friend who got me into Hetalia:

Being a young teenager in the old fandom certainly,,,, was something. I would not relive that, but by god would I do ANYTHING to get my favorite pieces of fan media back from that time. There was a video called "Hetalia What Did You Do To Panda" which was a bunch of clips from the anime with Katie Herzig's "Hey Na Na" playing in the background. Every now and then a dub audio clip would interject with the song.

I also really miss this one very specific Character Theme Songs video that had Poland in the thumbnail. Mein Gott would play between each song and I could tell you most of the songs that had been assigned to each character.

I would do ANYTHING to get those videos back. I miss them so much.

Anyway, if you read this whole thing, thanks for reading??? I am very Cool And Normal about the things I like, unfortunately. It's nice to come back to Hetalia and like... be a normal person about it.

All I've got to say is, when I like something, I like it a lot.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Mythology: Character A is an immortal being/god and Character B is the only mortal who’s interacted with them in centuries.

This is turning into more of a Trope-tember/tober/vember but that's what happens sometimes. 😆 I had to cut this one off because I was afraid it would go from 1K to 10K really quickly. I may revisit again though if I have more time.

The idea is that Guillermo is an archeologist studying ancient religions, and Nandor is a god who hadn't quite moved on.

The Power of an Offering

Ship: Nandermo (Preslash)

Rating: T

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1010

He was Nandor. Nandor, god of Relentlessness. And if there was one thing Nandor did well, it was…not relent. So as centuries passed, turning his beautiful temple, once the jewel of Al Quolanudar, to ruins, Nandor remained.

Once the world was full of gods and god-like beings. Each served their own purpose in the world, and sometimes depending on what that service was, they were praised by the mortals. Temples built in their honor, wars raged in their names, prayers sobbed into their ears. That was many centuries ago. Most of the so-called ‘well known’ gods were dead now. Killed by the very mortals that claimed to love them. The rest scattered to the wind. Hiding away to lick their wounds. Nandor didn’t know how many of his kind remained.

Nandor missed the days of warriors and kings bowing before his feet in the hope of outlasting the next battle, the next opponent, the next day. However, things weren’t so bad. Every morning, he rearranged the sand piles, trying to straighten up but not dislodge the scorpions or vipers of their homes. By the afternoon, he would go down to the underground library to read from the scrolls that hadn’t crumbled to dust yet. And in the evenings, he found himself staring up in the gaping hole at the center of his temple to look at the stars. It was a meager routine for a god, but Nandor had found immortality had worn on his ability to care. For the first time in his long, long life, he started to wonder what would happen if he just…relented? Not even a full twenty-four hours after having that thought, something new wandered into his life.

“Guillermo! Get over here! I think we found something.” 

Nandor watched the humans that walked on the roof of his temple gather near the hole somehow managing to shine their concentrated torch light down towards him. Nandor hid behind one of his pillars, watching with narrowed eyes. He has dealt with looters before. They quickly and fatally learned the definition of relentless at the hands of the warrior god.

“I think this is it! Let’s get some ropes to lower me down.” Another voice declared.

Nandor slunk back into the shadows, retrieving his scimitar as he waited for his prey to enter his realm. Then he waited, and he waited, and he waited some more. Honestly, he was about to go up there and check things out for himself. What exactly was taking so long? When finally, a form was lowered into his domain. Nandor couldn’t help but stare at the surprisingly wonderfully plump man with some sort of odd glass lens on his face. When Nandor had been offered concubines and human sacrifices that he allowed to live if they served him, he always had a tendency to prefer the heftier ones to the skinny ones.

He still could cut the ropes and watch the human thief fall to his death. However, Nandor found himself hesitating. Perhaps the human didn’t intend to steal from him. He really hoped this human didn’t intend to steal from him.

“I’m down. I’m going to take off the harness now.” The human called up to his human friends after reaching Nandor’s temple.

He undid the ropes surrounding his body, disappointing Nandor to a certain extent, before using his bright torch. Nandor became one with the shadows, keeping himself hidden from the blinding light. Seriously, it was like the human was carrying around a mini sun with that thing.

“Wow,” The human breathed. “The temple of Nandor, the Relentless god.”

Nandor has always called himself ‘god of Relentlessness’ but he supposed that worked too.

“I don’t know if you’re still here, Nandor.” The human continued to speak.

Nandor perked up at being addressed.

“But I thought it would be better to bring an offering just in case. The legends say you’re a warrior god who kills anyone who invades your realm without permission, so I thought I should play it safe.”

Nandor didn’t care for the laughing tone the human seemed to have while making his speech, but he would forgive it under the circumstances. He was about to receive an offering! After all this time. 

“I don’t know what’s traditional in this case, but I do have this loaf of bread…”

The meager meal, that would have been an insult a mere couple of centuries ago, was laid on the offering table. Immediately, Nandor could feel power surge through him again. He released a sigh, extinguishing the overly bright torch as he lit his own surrounding the room. The human jumped in fright shouting to the humans who lowered him in. Well that certainly wouldn’t do. Some of his powers restored, Nandor created a sandstorm. He could hear the humans above shouting and running away, leaving their friend behind. Typical humans. Nandor’s human was frightened though, and Nandor didn’t want him to be. Especially not after receiving such a wonderful gift.

“What is your name, Bread Man?” He purred.

The human whipped his head around, trying to pinpoint Nandor in the shadows. He held his mini torch as one would a sword, ready to attack at any moment. Good! Nandor loved warrior servants. And that’s just what he was going to do. Turn this human into the first of his new disciples. 

“My name is Guillermo. Guillermo de la Cruz.”

“Guillermo.” Nandor tasted the name on his tongue, loving the way it made the human shiver. “Yes, it is decided then.”

“What’s decided?! What’s going on?”

Nandor waited until the human was facing him once more before materializing before him. Guillermo gasped, the torch falling from his numb hands as he stared at Nandor in a state of total reverent shock. At least Nandor assumed it was reverence that caused his mouth to drop and cheeks to pink.

“I have decided…to choose you to serve me. I am Nandor, God of Relentlessness! And you, Guillermo de la Cruz, shall be the greatest warrior ever known once I’m through with you.”

[queenofbaws]

So...how do you feel about revisiting some outlast au climbing chrash this bright summers day? ...for no particular reason at all I assure you ;P

"So...rock, paper, scissors does it?"

Even though he didn't need to, Chris slowly turned his head to look at Josh, scanning his face for any sign of a joke. God help him, he didn't see any: He was perfectly deadpan, though already holding a plaintive fist in the air, his eyes not on him, not on Ashley, but on the...well, there really wasn't a better way to say it...grim effigy of all the things broken and curdled within the walls of Mount Massive. He let his own eyes rest on the terrible thing for a moment, then moved them back to Josh, then to Ashley, then to Josh again, desperate to make the math work.

"L-Lemme get this straight...you want us...to play rock, paper, scissors...to decide who moves the bloody torso with a bunch of surgical tools where its head should be, a-a-am I getting that right?!"

Unmoved, Ashley raised her own fist; "We go on 'shoot.'"

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

#100 cylene and laventon or surveyfam as a whole? I think it would work well with your take on the survey corps?

(101 ways to say i love you with actions 100: believing in them when everyone else doesn't)

OUGH YEAH IT DOES ... so here's 3 times sinensis cyllene did things because she felt like them and for no other reason aka: You're Not Fooling Anyone, Cyllene. also in case people forgot/have not heard (very likely) i write laventon's first name as everett

---

"So. You wanted to discuss something?"

Cyllene nods, meeting Kamado's gaze steadily. "I would like to revisit the recent discussion of the formation of a new corps, as proposed by Professor Laventon."

He pauses, and looks at her with something like disbelief. "You're already well aware of my reasons for refusal, Captain. The pitch may sound in theory—but without someone competent to supervise the whole thing, it's just an elaborate way to send our people to their deaths. Unless you've got some way around that—"

"I do. I would like to volunteer for the position of captain. Zisu can take my place as head of Security."

His eyes narrow. "You think she can replace you? Competent though Zisu may be, she isn't you."

"She's not," she agrees easily. "Which is why I need to supervise this. Consider it, commander. Think of how much we have to gain."

He considers her for a moment.

Then he inclines his head slightly. "What exactly do you see in his endeavor? It must be something, if you're staking this on it."

How is she meant to explain it to him? That Everett's passion is infectious? That when he goes off on his elaborate tangents, forgetting to check if she's still listening, when she should feel exasperated, she instead feels that inexplicable pull, that specific version of which she hasn't felt in years if not decades, telling her that this is something worth guarding?

She can't; she'd sound biased at best, and mad at worst. So she goes with the straightforward.

"I believe that our team will never be fully safe in Hisui until we properly understand our surroundings. Learning to coexist with the Pokémon around us is key to our survival. The Draconids achieved it through brute force and harsh selectivity, and," she gestures vaguely, like she can point to the empire that so many of them came from, "even if we had the manpower for that approach—we've all seen how that turns out. I think the professor's approach is worth trying."

"Hmm." He closes his eyes, reviewing her argument for a moment, and then says, "...well, I suppose you would know best about that. If you're overseeing the project, I'm willing to tentatively approve it. But I'll expect it to prove its worth quickly, or we'll have to reevaluate."

She gives a sharp nod. "Understood, commander."

When she delivers the news to Laventon, he's predictably overjoyed, even with the stipulations it necessarily comes with. She tells him the same thing she'd told Kamado, when he thanks her profusely—that she just sees the possible upsides of the project, nothing more—but he accepts that with a conspiratorial smile that she's not entirely sure she likes.

---

The sun is going down, and they're both sweaty and tired and probably not going to achieve much more, so Cyllene decides to call the training session there. Rei doesn't protest as he gets to cleaning his sword and putting things away, but he's terrible at hiding, and even she can tell something's eating at him.

"Sit down," she orders, pointing at the bench next to her without looking at him.

"I'm- fine," he grinds out the answer.

"I didn't ask if you were fine. I told you to sit." Her tone makes it clear that this is an order, and doesn't leave room for argument.

So, reluctantly, he drops down next to her. She hands him the water, and they sit in silence for a while, Rei glaring out at the darkening field like the scattered pieces of wood have said something to offend him.

Cyllene doesn't say anything. She knows she can just wait long enough to outlast him.

And sure enough, finally,

"Why am I even still doing this?"

He continues, without needing to be prompted, "I mean, if I'm moving to the Survey Corps, it's not like I need to be an amazing fighter. I mean it's not–" he glances over and rephrases. "It's not like it'll be useless, there'll still be wild Pokémon and everything but—I'm not—not... defending everyone. It's not like I'm going to be competing in any contests."

"You never know," she says, dryly enough that he's not sure whether or not she's joking. And then, more seriously, "You're a fully fledged Galaxy Team member. You can't be forced into anything. Stop being my apprentice if you hate it that much."

"But I don't hate it!" he protests, because he doesn't. It feels good. It's been a routine for almost half his life.

She gives him a sidelong glance. "I don't see what the issue is, then."

"I don't feel like I'm getting any better at it. I just keep throwing myself at the same things without improving, and it's not..." he kicks the dirt, glaring at it again. "Nobody actually expects me to be any good at it. They only stuck me here to get me out of the way."

A beat.

"Do you think I pitied your family? Or that they bribed me? Do you think either of those would get me to take you on as an apprentice?" She stands up, and turns so that she's looking down at him.

"Um."

"I do not waste my time on—frivolity. I have trained you for these years because I thought it was worth my time." She jabs a finger at him. "You are allowed to doubt your worth as a swordsman if and when I say you do, and absolutely no sooner. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir," he says, blinking up at her wide-eyed.

"Good. Now finish getting cleaned up. Next time I hear anything about quitting, it better be because you're sick and tired to death of doing the same five drills every time."

She doesn't want to think to hard about the softness in his voice when he says, "thanks."

---

"She had nothing to do with this!"

Cyllene's arm is out to the side, creating a physical barrier. Akari is behind her, and she really shouldn't be raising her voice because lack of composure is the first threat to victory, but fuck it, she's angry.

"I'm not going to stand idly by and watch as your baseless paranoia spills innocent blood," she continues, shouting only thinly reined in. "This is absurd and completely unacceptable."

"You'd take her side no matter what. She's got you completely fooled," says the person across from her, and Cyllene hears Akari's breath hitch unsteadily.

"I am the captain of the Survey Corps, and I have a duty to my people," she growls. She's not sure how obvious it is that the definition of her people is rapidly narrowing to a group of about three or four. "I assure you, I know Akari far better than you do, and I know that even if she had done what you're accusing her of—which, again, is ridiculous—this would still not be an appropriate response. Leave. Now. I won't warn you again."

Predictably, they don't take the order. The second they move another step forward, she's unsheathing her sword.

I don't care what she did, she wants to roar. I don't care if she fucking killed someone. I don't care if she doomed this entire skies-damned region. I'd gladly throw the rest of this trash into the fire before I let you lay a single hand on her.

"If you're so certain of this," she says instead, "then prove it. Come and get her." She levels her blade with the tip pointing at them. "But you'll have to go through me, first."

[bunnylouisegrimes]

BUNNY'S NOT DEAD?! (MUST WATCH)

Just a note to anyone who follows: No, I'm still not coming back to post my stuff here, lol. Especially with how awful this site's format has become. I miss y'all, but as I said two years ago, feel free to hit me up any time to chat. I still check posts, read others' fics, post comments, etc. Plus, I still write fanfiction and draw, I just share it among those of you who are in my close circle and/or become a part of my close circle.

Quick life update as well: We're almost done with nursing school. And besides Patrick, I've adopted Jack and Mary Dean from Gemini Home Entertainment into my hyperfixation family, as well as revisiting Miles Upshur and taking in Waylon Park and Blake Langermann from Outlast. My latest hyperfixation? Yet another homicidal rich asshole... guess who he is, I dare you...

Uhhh.... yeah....

Either way, Happy Valentines you beautiful bastards and bitches! Keep on loving and dreaming, and avoid the toxic motherfuckers, both irl and online, and stick with people who are actually good for your health.

I'll be around... somewhat...

-Bunny Louise Grimes, Wednesday, 02/14/2024. Still dreaming and still living...

[happytapirstudio]

Redwall Reread #0: Intro

My intro to Brian Jacques' Redwall series was actually the animated adaptations that aired on PBS Kids in the early 2000's. I was talking about them with my (much older) next-door neighbor one day and she was like "oh yeah I love those books", and I, a young but avid reader, was like, "Books?"

For those of you who don’t know, Redwall is a children’s fantasy book about mice and other woodland creatures living in an abbey (Redwall Abbey), which they are pressed to defend against invaders (”vermin” like rats, weasels, foxes, etc.)  It’s also the name of the subsequent series of 20+ books that followed, published between 1986 and 2011.

The world of Redwall is complex and charming, and thus still widely read and beloved decades after its original publication.  For me personally, it was one of my favorite series growing up, and consequently had a huge influence on my writing style.  I’ve read all but the last few books, several of them multiple times.  Originally I read them in publication order (the recommended reading order for first-timers, and what I was naturally inclined towards), though I’d grown a little tired of them towards the very end, and stopped reading around 2012-13.  Mr. Jacques was writing these books right up until his death.  In fact, the final installment, The Rogue Crew, was published posthumously.  Truthfully, the stories could at times be a touch formulaic, and my impression ten years ago was that this formula had run its course, at least for me.

That being said, while the stories’ predictability was a common complaint, I think it’s also a testament to the success of the original formula that Mr. Jacques was able to craft so many delightful books by staying true to that original model.  He really did create a beautiful world, beautiful largely I think because it promised readers that goodness and love and peace would always outlast cruelty and misery.  My intent with this reread isn’t necessarily to dissect that Redwall Formula.  Mostly I’m just feeling nostalgic, and I’m using that as an excuse to revisit a rich a wonderful world, and to re-explore Redwall with an adult perspective.

But there will be essays. Oh yes, there will be essays.

I’ve always wanted to read Redwall in its chronological order, to try and piece together the lineages and subtle evolution of Mossflower Wood, so that’s what I’m doing now.  Lord Brocktree is in the bag, with Martin the Warrior soon to follow, so expect to see posts for those two shortly.  I will be writing a general reaction for each book, titled “Redwall Reread no. X”, in addition to more general thoughts and fleshed-out essays; all will be logged under the tag ‘tapir’s redwall reread’.  I’m anticipating this to be a two-year project.  Not that anyone’s counting.

Speaking of “years” though I do want to mention one last thing - sort of bring this full-circle - a couple years ago, it was announced that a Redwall movie adaptation was in the works, courtesy of Netflix.  Mr. Patrick McHale was set as the writer.  Yeah I totally flipped my shit about it.  Yeah we haven’t heard much else since then.  Who knows?  Mayhaps in the time it takes me to reread and review every Redwall book, that project will see the light of day.

But until then...

[lizzybeth1986]

Character Playlist: Hayden Young

I realised this year that even though Hayden's was the first appreciation week I'd ever organised, I had never gotten around to creating my own playlist for them. And I've always had songs I associate with them...so I figured now would be the best time to compile them!!

Most of them deal with similar themes of self-discovery and love - both themes I find in abundance in Hayden's story. There are three foreign-language songs, for which I'll attach the translations - one Hindi, one French and one Japanese.

Tagging @haydenyoungappreciationweek and @sazanes for HYAW Day 1: Indescribable! Find the Spotify list here!

On a Day Like Today - Bryan Adams

On a day like today the whole world could change

The sun's gonna shine, shine thru the rain

On a day like today no one complains

Free to be pure, free to be sane

In the Lap of the Gods (Revisited) - Queen

No beginning, there's no ending

There's no meaning in my pretending

Believe me, life goes on and on and

Forgive me when I ask you where do I belong

Indescribable - Olivia Broadfield

Too indescribable

I've got to think it over

When you kiss me like that.

Too indescribable

I've got a sinking feeling,

I don't like where this is at.

It's My Life - Bon Jovi

This ain't a song for the broken-hearted

No silent prayer for faith-departed

And I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd

You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud...

All the King's Horses - Karmina

There is a reason I'm still standing

I never knew if I'd be landing

And I will run fast, outlast

everyone that said no...

Safar - Masala Coffee

Duniya ik kitaab, padhna hai pura

The world is a book; I will read every page of it.

Raahi hoon main hamesha...

I am a traveller, I have always been...

Nayi duniya nayi ruhan

New worlds...new souls...

Rahat har raah deti hai

Every road gives me solace

Safar hai takhti musafir ki

The voyage awaits its voyager

Manzil ki parwah kahaan...

Who cares where the destination is!

Lyrics and Translation

What was I Made For - Billie Eilish

Think I forgot how to be happy

Something I'm not, but something I can be

Something I wait for

Something I'm made for

Alone Part II - Alan Walker, Ava Max

We all need that someone

who gets you like no one else

Right when you need it the most

We all need a soul to rely on

A shoulder to cry on

A friend through the highs and the lows

I'm not gonna make it alone

anatomy - kenzie

It's just anatomy, you're only half of me

And still, you don't know me at all

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

Guess I meant less than I thought

(while the original context of this song was about the singer's feelings about her father's abandonment of their family, I thought the lines worked well for a Hayden thinking about a parent that didn't exist 😞)

Sun - Sleeping At Last

Our once barren world now brims with life

That we may fall in love

Every time we open up our eyes

I guess space, and time

Takes violent things, angry things

And makes them kind

Dernière Danse - Indila

Je remue le ciel le jour, la nuit

I move mountains, day and night

Je danse avec le vent la pluie

I dance with the wind the rain

Un peu d'amour, un brin de miel

A little love, a bit of honey

Et je danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse

And I dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance

Et dans le bruit, je cours et j'ai peur

And in the noise, I run and I'm scared

Est ce mon tour

Is it my turn?

Vient la douleur

Here comes the pain

Dans tout Paris, je m’abandonne

Throughout Paris, I abandon myself

Et je m'envole, vole, vole, vole, vole

And I fly, fly, fly, fly, fly

Lyrics and Translation

Then You Look At Me - Celine Dion

Day by day

I find my way

Look for the soul and the meaning

Then you look at me

And I always see

What I have been searching for

I'm lost as can be

Then you look at me

And I am not lost anymore

orion - Kenshi Yonezu

Even in dreams, my heart is somehow never at its best—

So don't bother worrying... about my grievances and tears.

Pulling a string from my unraveling sweater, I constantly tried to weave a constellation,

Using our fingers as the stars.

It ended up so terribly haphazard that we both had to laugh!

If you were truly there with me in that moment... that's more than enough

Lyrics and Translation

You Gotta Be - Des'ree

Listen as your day unfolds

Challenge what the future holds

Try and keep your head up to the sky

Lovers, they may cause you tears

Go ahead, release your fears

Stand up and be counted

Don't be ashamed to cry