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strwberri-milk · 2 years

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Diluc, kaeya, albedo and scara (seperately ) witnessing the reader get the same vision element as them? Fluff plz

a/n: Lmao first time for albedo and scaramouche and i dont have that good a grasp lets see how it goes

The second Kaeya sees you've received your vision is a very strange time for him.

His brain goes a little haywire. He's not really sure how to feel right off the bat considering his own sort of complicated relationship with the object.

When he sees how happy you look it eases his tensions just a bit.

For you, it seems like a little bit more of a reward for your hard work despite knowing what the general connotation with cryo users is. He reaches out to touch it, the chill of the gold reminding him so much of his own but yours is a little different.

The warmth of your hands still hasn't left it and it makes him smile a little, ruffling your hair and congratulating you on your new-found ability.

Of course you're going to ask him to help you learn how to use it and of course he'll help you out! Only if you repay him back of course :)

Diluc's reaction to your vision is a warm smile and nod in acknowledgment of your efforts.

He knows how happy he was when he first got his vision, the way that to him it symbolised the universe acknowledging his own efforts and desires.

You can tell he's happy with the way he immediately asks if you want any pointers on how to use your vision, already mentally running through his schedule to see when he'll have enough time to help you learn.

No matter how much you might try to insist that he doesn't need to cram in extra practice sessions with you amongst his already incredibly busy schedule he's not convinced.

To Diluc, not only is it a good way to spend more time together but it's a way he can ensure your safety even if he can't be there to watch over you. Knowing that you're being trained by himself means he'll have full confidence in your abilities.

Sure, training with him can be tiring but the way he practically beams with joy in his own muted way makes you just that much more determined to continue your training with him.

When you tell Albedo about your new vision, showing it off excitedly, he congratulates you on the accomplishment. Even if he didn't really care that much when he got his vision he can understand how it's a momentous occasion for many.

He is a little curious to know what you plan to use your vision for. After all, he uses it to help with his work and aid in experiments. While you did help him out with some of his stuff you weren't as invested with alchemy as he was so it wouldn't make any sense for you to use your vision in the same capacity as him

You shrug a little in response to his question. You did want a vision - practically every little kid dreamed of getting one for one reason or another. Now that you had a Geo vision you suppose it would be pretty useful for a lot of mundane tasks if you directed your attention towards honing skills even more so than you already were.

A small book of notes makes its way into your field of view, looking up at him with a bit of confusion. He just flips the book open to the first page and shows you all of his handwritten notes.

It doesn't take you long to decipher his words as you figure out that he handed you a journal all about the specificities of his own vision. His learning curve, some of the things he chose to focus on when getting used to his power, little tips and tricks he developed over time.

He doesn't say anything when you put it in your pocket, only giving you a little smile in acknowledgment to signal that it was his gift to you.

He doesn't care much for the vision at all so honestly you probably kept it from him for a bit. Not necessarily intentionally that is. You just didn't tell him because he never asked about the new accessory.

Despite that, he did know that you had it. It didn't appear in some fantastical manner or blinding light, almost as though it knew that the mere presence of it would offend Scaramouche.

Since you never brought it up neither did he, instead employing underhanded tactics that would at least let you figure out how to use the thing.

For some reason, you didn't catch on to his methods. It was probably because you were used to his antics, just sort of dragged into whatever it was that he wanted to take you to.

Slowly, you were beginning to acclimatize yourself to the vision, practising it in the wee hours of the day when he would leave you alone. It was exhausting, sure, but you were quickly seeing progress being made.

Scaramouche just watches on wordlessly from the shadows, not letting you see him as he supervises you. Tomorrow he'll be sure to start working on correcting your form when it comes to mimicking his own stance.

#scaramouche x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin x reader

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nahalism · 14 days

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Have you ever beaten yourself down or felt defected because you couldn’t uphold a routine?

I am going through something like this now. I see people around me who, of course to varying degrees (but some excell in) getting their diet, sleep schedule, studying/working, exercising routine in check, having a plan. And whenever i try, for the love of me, i just cannot uphold it. I can’t be consistent, my brain just doesn’t work like this but i keep hearing that it has improved peoples’ lives so much, developing a routine and sticking to it. And i know me not having one is probably not in my favor (studying whenever i have the ”inspiration” to because otherwise my brain just shuts off no matter how i try to trick myself instead of regularly and smooth sailing through assignments as a result) can’t go to sleep and wake up at the same time every day INCLUDING WEEKENDS can’t eat regularly. So i try to improve myself and chase this but all it does is reflect to me that i am just not able to and it makes me feel even worse about myself. And i personally know people who ARE able to do all of that and i can see it pays off in so many ways, in their life. My thoughts get in the way, my feelings get in the way and they make me pretty much not functional for periods of time and i am not sure if these people experience the exact same „wall” and they consistently push through it or if maybe my wall is just a big higher and stronger than theirs sometimes. I feel like my brain is against me, truly. (Probably relevant to mention that i do have some mental problems overall which could be affecting all i mentioned and the way i function, it still feels so defeating to me)

such a long message, i am sorry. i hope you are love lately x

hey beautiful <3. my reply will be equally as long if not longer so no need to be sorry :)

yes. lol just, yes. ive been through the exact same feelings that you describe and even though i struggle less now, i struggle less only as a consequence of my ability to be kinder and more tolerant of myself, not because ive magically changed into someone different. — ill try to explain what i did to help but ill be honest, theres only ever been one solution for me which is to do the work. its hard, its lonely, no one comes to help, or to save you, they even stop pretend ing to care. people will try to support you, but despite best intentions may fall short or lack the capacity to give you what you actually need. so you have to be the one. you have to carry yourself over the finish line, often at the cost losing things, people and parts of yourself that you think you love and cant do without (its soul wrenching but worth the initial discomfort, i promise). every breakthrough is hard earned and often doesnt even feel like the cherry on the top that its supposed to be. so the only way to find the will to keep going is to enjoy the challenge of the journey and learn to love what choosing to 'carry your own cross' is developing in you.

1) the first thing i had to do was make that cross worth carrying for myself. not because id been told to do it, had to do it, or because 'self care' is important, but because I was priority enough to myself that i found the willpower to see it though. to make that possible i had to understand why i was my number one priority, and then make my actions reflect that. it sounds heroic but it looked like excavating my soul, saying no to anything i didnt want to do, and anything i did out of obligation. that included essays, exams, my job, friends, family. maybe that sounds extreme but i realised that all those things meant nothing if the person who was meant to be showing up for them didnt want to be alive/was in anyway unhealthy, or was so dysfunctional that they showed up as a semi sane version of themselves. my whole personality was a trauma response, and even despite the trauma i had to look at what i was doing to create the circumstances i was unhappy with. going from responding unconsciously to consciously choosing my actions was brutal. all of this sounds empowering but it often looks and feels shambolic & looks like being a fuck up. i literally appeared to the outside world like someone who had gone off the edge and was failing at life. for context, making the choices im talking about led to me retaking a year at uni, being a ghost to everyone and everything in my life, having panic attacks every night because despite feeling like i was doing the right thing i had no evidence it would work and no idea how id make it out & all this lasted for way after i graduated so people were looking at me crazy :). HOWEVER, its also how i learned to draw, how i restored my relationship with myself, how i found the passion and excitement to work toward a goals i had set (not the ones set for me). i also became confident for the first time in my life. like actualll self esteem and self knowledge. i hated being seen or perceived due to things id been through, and still struggle with that now tbh. so when i look at the fuller version of myself im embodying today, the multiple ways ive put myself outside of my comfort zone, (and the versions of me i know are to come) i know that the first steps began with following my gut and taking that initial leap of faith that honoured the truth of who i felt myself to be, not the pattern id been following/living in.

2) that first step is important cause when what you do what matters to you, you gain a different willpower (aka passion) that fuels what you do and why you do it. i spent my whole childhood with e.d's and unable to consistently work out/find working out pleasurable. however once i built a relationship with myself and understood what a body was and why it deserved my respect, working out stopped being about the pressure to be a fine babe, and about desiring mobility, full function of my vehicle and longterm health. i say that to say, sometimes its not that your undisciplined, but that your trying hard at the wrong things. (an undisciplined or inconsistent person doesn't keep trying at things despite failing time and time again...). another way to look at it is — a goat is not meant to be a sheep, nor a sheep a goat. theres nothing wrong with being either, but you have to know which you are. (this takes us back to point one: are the things you put pressure on yourself to do/be/accomplish, authentic to you or are you imposing them of yourself because of pressure/expectation/superficial reasons). if its the later, you cannot wait till you have the answers to change the direction your moving in. you have to pivot, take the next step in the direction that feels purposeful and deeply honest to you, and trust that even though you cant see the whole path, the next step will be revealed as you continue to walk forward. the mental illness doesnt go away, but it fades as your tolerance increases. its not meant to be easy, if you can remember that then you'll be okay.

3) you dont have to do it perfectly. you just have to do it. over time, ive had routines w/ varying success. my overarching interests, goals/priorities are the same, but they fluctuate which means i can struggle with consistency and seeing things through (not cause i dont want to be consistent but i feel like i change so rapidly as a person that i almost forget why i set certain goals for myself and why building the routine/proficiency in skill was important to me in the first place). in this sense, its hard to accomplish a goal if you dont relate to the version of yourself you were when you set it. so part one to this point is, i have to use my quirks to my advantage. i know that i tend to cycle through my interests every 3 months ish. so, i set goals that can be accomplished in 3 month cycles rather than over the course of a year. in doing that i achieve small steps toward the larger, more diverse vision of my life i have for myself, meaning i could have one goal - lets say financial freedom - and 3 projects over the course of 9 months that feed into that goal. this works for me because i know i can sustain deep focus over the course of those three months and so will accomplish what ive set out to do. — but whats key for you, is that you find out what works for you. if you start to embrace your needs and what makes you different, you can also embrace the ways it makes you and your approach unique and innovative. rather than a hinderance or a source of 'why cant i be like/function like everyone else'. ——— that leads on to the second part, which is learning to carry the good with the bad. e.g. — whilst the way i fluctuate makes me multifaceted, it also means that one month im focused on art (my style) & reading, the next i might be on philosophy and writing, right before i get back to gardening and portrait practice, then cycle back to learning languages or an instrument. that level of commitment to multiple disciplines means what could take me 3 months to accomplish if i had a single minded focus, gets dragged out into a year long affair. lmty, its almost as frustrating to make slow progress as it is not to progress at all. so sometimes i feel like ive come so far only to have achieved the bare minimum. ive had to learn to appreciate that slow and steady approach (rather than chasing immediate perfection which leads to burn out) and be grateful for the fact that even though its taking long, at least im moving in the right direction. eventually ill learn the skill of expediting each of my processes, but right now this is where im at. extending that kind of grace and mercy to yourself is the biggest part of this all. because if i know im not good at structure, and im specifically struggling with it at this moment, maybe i dont need to hyper-fixate on having a morning routine right now. maybe for the next few months, its not about doing yoga the moment i wake up (even if i know thats best for me) maybe i just need to do yoga at 'unspecified time today'. maybe i dont need to sleep at 10pm. i can actually start work at 10pm, and go to sleep at 6 am. as long as i do yoga, as long as i go to sleep, as long i *insert task*, that is enough for right now. infact more than enough, its a victory. so, work on your own schedule and embrace it. trust that you've set goals and failed before but that you are still here and still committed to getting it right next time, which means you are a trustworthy person who can rely on themselves to show up for themselves. the more you practice not giving up, the smaller the gap between your ability to take action, which means the greater your ability to develop the skill of routine. perhaps not a conventional routine, but routine just means habit. over the course of your life, you are building the habit of not giving up. or of consistently coming back to & developing skills you wanna build. that is the desired outcome, not the structure of how you achieve that, but the fact that you have achieved some form of taking action consistently.

last thing i want to leave you with is the way i see and feel you. you could have asked me anything, you could have asked me nothing at all, but you chose to ask me about how to improve your situation. in that sense, your words have betrayed what your will and your desire is. the things we desire today, dictate the person we become tomorrow, and so i know without a doubt that its not a matter of if, but a matter of when you achieve these routines, their outcomes (& so much more, you cant even imagine whats on the other side). <3. it takes a very special kind of grit and resilience to fail and to try again. you inspire me and remind me of the qualities that make humans truly beautiful, truly necessary and truly precious. so dont give up, dont go under. none of this is meant to break you, just pull out what is inevitable to who you are and what you are meant to be. it is going to be hard, but you are not alone even when you are alone, and when you make it out the other end you become a testimony for others, (& evidence that they arent alone either). keep fighting, i believe in you, sending big love & a big hug xx-xx

#ask #🖤

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astercontrol · 9 months

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Ay ay ayyyyy....

I just had another thought about the Encom system and how program consciousness works there

Wowww

So. First watch through of Tron 1982, I missed any attempt at explanation for just HOW these floppydisk sized programs ended up being capable of thought and emotion. Surely they couldn't actually be complex enough to be true artificial intelligence. I mean one of them's a compound interest calculator.

BUT I just sorta rolled with it and still enjoyed the movie.

Then, second watch through, I caught the Walter Gibbs line about "spirit," and Dillinger dismissing it as "religious" discussion... suggesting that there's a supernatural explanation for what happens with the energies of programmers and programs in the Encom system. (And suggesting that Gibbs has talked about it before, in detail... enough that Dillinger is sick of it and calls it out as soon as it comes up, dismissing it as weird spiritual woo-woo stuff.)

And I actually loved that interpretation, because it forms another parallel between Users and Programs. Gibbs has faith and reverence for some supernatural phenomenon within the computer system... just as his program, Dumont, enshrines his own User-belief in profound ritual. And arguably, at this point, it's much bolder of Gibbs to believe in the Programs (or at least, in some force capable of forming them) than it is for the Programs to believe in the Users.

I've been writing all my fanfic in basically this headcanon. With the added detail that it's specifically the ENCOM system that's "haunted" by this spiritual energy-- and programs elsewhere aren't brought to life by it unless they're uploaded into the Encom system....

In my headcanon, these uplifted programs from other companies have memories of events from before, in terms of factual detail... BUT since they didn't have thoughts or feelings back then, they'll either have no mental or emotional context to the memory.... or they'll construct such context in the framework of how the program currently thinks and feels. (i.e. "great feeling" and "helping folks plan for future needs")

But then, there's the other interpretation-- that the programs in the Encom system are actually just normal programs. All except for MCP, which really is a true artificial intelligence, and did digitize Kevin Flynn into the system... Where he ended up perceiving the Programs as if they were people, projecting his own ideas onto them.... because a human mind could never perceive that experience the way it really is; you'd HAVE to project something from your own mind in order to make any sense of it.

And I don't like that headcanon... but I accept that it makes some sense in some ways....

Aaaand then, it occurred to me there's at least one other possibility.

What if the programs ARE all intelligent, capable of human-level thought and feelings.... But they ONLY have that capacity because of the true AI of the MCP.

In this idea, my other headcanon about this being an Encom-only phenomenon could still hold true. Except the mechanism is different: When a non-sentient program is added to the Encom grid, it becomes connected to the same processing ability that permits the MCP to be conscious. There's something in that processing that takes a program's functions and, like, translates them into character traits of a living consciousness.

Each program becomes a sort of.... alternate personality within the MCP's brain. And of course many of them are vastly different from MCP, vehemently opposed to the views of MCP's main personality... but all of them are reliant on its processes in order to function as conscious entities.

In this headcanon, things could get pretty dark at the end of the movie.

Everyone's rejoicing about having just destroyed the MCP....

And then the destruction of the MCP spreads all the way... the effect of what they did reaches their own processes... and, suddenly all that magic consciousness is gone, and Tron is just a knockoff Norton Antivirus.

Or, going a happier route... Alan figured out some of what was happening, and he made sure that his edits to Tron's disc would destroy only the evil personality and leave the vital functions that keep everyone else alive.

In that case, Alan is the real hero of the movie and he DESERVES to get the truth from Flynn, plus an invite to a friggin party thrown in his honor inside that system.

#tron #tron 1982 #tronblr #tron fanfic #Walter Gibbs #mcp #master control program #alan 1 #alan bradley #headcanons

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liquidstar · 1 year

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i've been doing your lil tournament but i just keep wondering. what are your ocs like. for. like. what's the story. what's the LORE. i want the lore give me the lore

I have an actual story and stuff planned out for them but i have no idea when I’d get around to really making it (I’m so tired all the time and I wanna get to a more stable place to be able to commit to it bc it really matters to me)

I started working on a blog to function as an oc wiki but sort of left it alone for a WHILE so… augh it’s a lot but I did write a loredump in there, if you’re really curious i’ll put it under the tag here! Feel free to just vaguely skim it too lol

A power that arises as a personal reflection of the user's worst defect can be awakened within every single person in this world. This ability is known as one's "Ethos," a fundamental quality that determines what gives something its identity, the motivation driving one's existence, and the principle that drives all of their actions. The imperfection that individuals try to hide from, fight against, repress, and unleash. The ethos is a defense mechanism that only becomes active when a person is exposed to circumstances that, at least in their eyes, bring out the worst in this perceived defect of theirs.

People who have awakened an ethos may find it distressing or even traumatic on a personal level, but the general consensus (Or, ethos, you could say) is that they are blessings from above, destined to enrich humanity, to make us more full and flawless beings. In this context "from above," is meant quite literally.

The Divine Comet passes over the earth every century; in the midst of summer, the entire world celebrates its arrival with day-long festivities, and people travel enormous distances to witness this once-in-a-lifetime spectacle. Of course, even in its absence, its impact is felt. The Comet has been documented since ancient times, and its ephemeral ethereal presence in the sky has long enchanted humans. It wasn't until a young alchemist learned how to extract its enigmatic power from it and share them with the world that it was deified. Now referred to as The Comet’s First Scholar, his aims were to make humans more flawless, to change them into more complete beings, and so these abilities were born to help smooth out mankind's imperfections.

It's impossible to know whether the comet has sentience or not; it's a cosmic being whose existence may not be completely comprehended by humans. It lacks a will, a conscience, ideas, or a brain, but it is nevertheless "alive," in a sense, but not in the way we conceive of life. Almost like a zen entity dancing infinite circles across space. When it comes to its power, you might almost think of it as radioactive or nuclear; it's an energy that could be captured and utilized for another reason, and each century that it travels overhead reinforces the strength of that energy.

Of course, there were additional unanticipated repercussions to bringing this energy to Earth. The way it may modify the physical appearance of some persons, for example, in the same way as radium does (albeit cosmic energy seems to be much nicer). Many individuals develop or are born with "[traits]," which are unnatural or clearly non-human physical features. These can be related to their ethos's growth, but they may also be inherited (It can alter people down to their DNA). Some view this to be another stage in the "transformation" of mankind into more complete beings.

However, another unintended effect is that this does not end with humanity. The Comet lacks the will or consciousness to distinguish between which beings might be impacted by its passing; it is in a condition beyond indifference. Animals lack the mental capacity that people have to recognize defects and self-reflection; instead, they are led by instinct. This has resulted in the emergence of monsters, who, to use the radium metaphor again, could almost be considered mutated. Though animals developing into monsters on their own is actually rare, remember that it often alters their DNA. As they bred overtime it has become a more and more pressing issue.

As a result, the occupation of hunter was created, particularly for those "blessed" with an ethos. In its early days, it was merely a need, but in more recent times, it’s become a badge of glory and adventure. Hunter guilds began to spring up all over the world, making solo hunters a dying breed. Joining a guild is now the standard, and all "real" guilds are registered and governed by the kingdom. It sends missions directly to guilds in various locations for members to complete, and in exchange, the individual who issued the mission request pays them. Unofficial guilds, sometimes known as dark guilds, are not recognized by the kingdom, and many of them accept illicit work requests ( theft, hits, black market trade e.t.c.). However, please do not consider the kingdom and its rule a benevolent force in and of itself either, it’s more concerned with control.

But ultimately, once the existential melancholy hits those "blessed" with an ethos, they have to consider if repression and control of perceived fault is actually what "elevates" mankind. Or are these characteristics what made us distinct beings in the first place? It's not bad to be defective; flaws contribute to who we are, our imperfections make us individuals. They may both drive and influence our growth. Humans are not stagnant beings. A person's ethos changes as a result of how they deal with their perceived "flaw." It will evolve and alter in tandem with them. Some may argue that this implies they're moving closer to perfection, or whatever the cosmic ideal is,but that would only rob them of their humanity.

#finn's ocs #ive been wanting to update a lot of ocs designs before i go back to that blog i should. really get around to it soon #i want to...#you see why i feel as though i cannot handle commitment to the whole story quite yet though lol

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ghostsxagain · 1 month

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//sweet loves! hi! here's a lil update for ya... I moved yesterday!!! I'm here at my dad's!! there was a lot of stress yesterday (mental & physical) but we did it! almost all of my stuff was brought in one trip, I'll just have to go back one more time to finish up & get the remaining items. I spent time with my sis & her bf last night, then hours talking to my dad before work today, and I really think this is going to be good for me. I have a lot to deal with still, naturally, but for the first time in a long time I'm optimistic for my future? that feels pretty cool.

I plan to work on drafts ASAP. idk if I have the brain capacity right this very minute BUT as soon as I do, I will chip away at them to the best of my ability. the goal is to fill my queue up since it's EMPTY atm//

#bless you all for being patient with me once again. it means a lot #I have to count up my drafts and I think I might have hit 300???? LOL FUNNNNNN #laughing my anxiety off {ooc}

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casspurrjoybell-19 · 11 months

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CLAIMED - Chapter 18

*Warning: Adult Content*

"And then he used his big-ass needles to draw my blood. You should be proud of me, I almost didn't pass out this time," Beta Jaxson Ortiz grinned, flashing his pearly whites proudly up at the Crescent Moon Pack Warrior Tyrus who smiled back, raising a teasing brow back down at the Betta as they walked alongside one another down the hallway that led to the elevator.

"Oh, yeah? I'll tell Doctor Benji to miss a few times before he sticks you next time, then."

Tyrus' comforting chuckle resounded through the hallway as Jaxson nudged his side with his shoulder, his hands coming up in surrender as he stumbled a few steps away.

"I'm never telling you anything ever again," Jaxson groaned, arms crossed firmly against his chest as he glared at the larger man.

"I was jooooking, it was a joooke, ease up on a guy," Tyrus chuckled again as he went to fall back into step with Jaxson but not before slinging his heavy arm across the Beta’s shoulders and pulling his body unceremoniously into his broad side, "Goddess help me, I've got a drama queen for a future brother-in-law. You'd think we have enough of those in this family already but I guess you'll fit right in." the Pack Warrior added, winking down at Jaxson, grin only widening as they approached the elevator.

"I liked you a lot better when I thought that you were dumb," the Beta grumbled as Tyrus' leg simultaneously flew up, only to mash his big toe down on the up button. "Actually... maybe I spoke too soon."

"I am not dumb," Tyrus retorted as he lowered his leg, drawing out the last word. "I just choose the use of my brain cells wisely."

After Jaxson’s first bout of therapy with Dr Benji this morning, he was shocked to see Tyrus and not Head Warrior Corey Cahill, waiting for him with a giant grin on his playful face.

He explained that Corey had planned to pick him up afterward but his mate had somehow gotten coerced into taking care of the Alpha twins by his Omega brother, Luna Berlin Cahill while he and Alpha Oasis Amador went on what they called a ‘much-needed parenting break.’

On their way toward the Alpha Suite, where Jaxson’s Mate was allegedly being held captive, he'd explained some of the basic things Dr Benji and he were planning on working on during their sessions.

One of which was genetic testing to determine if he had any indicators for mental health disorder susceptibility.

‘What can I say, after our little talk in his car outside of the restaurant, there was a new level of unspoken trust between the two of us.’

Tyrus was easy to talk to and gave damn good advice, even if he did still have a few brain cells loose.

However, despite his new friendship with his Mate's loyal brother, there were still many things that he kept to himself.

For example, he doubted Tyrus wanted to hear about the budding Dominant and Submissive relationship that he had with his brother, or the fact that the 'genetic testing' that Dr Benji was doing was also looking for any abnormalities to explain how in the ever-loving fuck he managed to make slick.

*****

After he'd yelled out their safe word at the top of his lungs last night, Corey's entire demeanor shifted.

Jaxson could've cried with the way that his heart swelled as he witnessed Corey force his Wolf, Dashiell, his Rut and his very genetic makeup back as his immediate priority became his Mate’s safety.

To comfort him, to hold him through his stress, to respect his desires.

To do so was not easy by any sense of the word, as Alpha Instincts are known to be the hardest of all to subdue.

But as Jaxson had steadily learned over time, Corey's ability to control and command his own psyche was a feat to behold.

But, as the Jaxson’s breathing slowly calmed with the help of his Mate's guidance, the Beta had begun to notice the slip of Corey’s mental capacity in the slightest tremble in his thick, strong arms that encaged him against his body and the incessant flickering of the Warrior’s eyes to the Beta’s neck, to his Bond Mark.

"It's okay, you can still mark me," Jaxson whispered as he lifted his hands up to cup Corey’s sharp jaw, his stubble scraping across the planes of his palms.

At this point, the Warrior's eyes were glued to his Mate’s neck, unwavering and piercing.

If looks alone could bite, he undoubtedly would have marked Jaxson about twenty times by now.

"But you said -"

"No," Jaxson cut Corey off before he could finish, tilting his neck to the side as he offered himself to his lover. "I can feel your stress too and your emotions are just as valid as mine."

Corey’s eyes flickered back up to capture Jaxson’s own at his honest words, the corners of them twitching as the Warrior’s brain refused to allow him to change his facial expression to match what he undoubtedly felt inside.

"Mark me, Corey. Mark me, Dash."

It took not a moment more of contemplation for Corey’s head to snap forward and canines to pierce Jaxson’s skin, to reclaim his Mate as completely and utterly his.

*****

DING

Jaxson jumped as the elevator doors slid open in front of them and Tyrus pulled him out of the small elevator vestibule to turn into the short hallway that led to the Alpha Suite.

"Alright, this is where I leave you," Tyrus finally released Jaxson’s shoulders but not before annoyingly ruffling his curls. "I've got to get back to Daffodil before he somehow finds a way to use that cute face of his to convince the kitchen staff to give him sugar again. That stuff is straight crack to the Fae, I swear."

"You mixed up the words cute and creepy,” Jaxson retorted, a reflexive shiver slithering down his spine as he recalled Daffodil's giant, creepy eyes or the odd way that he spoke, as if all semblances of grammar went completely over his little yellow head.

"Nah. Daffodil is the cutest little thing to ever grace this Goddess given earth and that is a fact. I'm just the lucky guy that gets to witness his cuteness every day." Tyrus' grin grew wider, surely at the thought of his Fae Mate. "I'm sure that Corey feels the same about you. Speaking of, you'd best get going before he comes out here looking for you and then I'm the one who gets in trouble."

“Ugh, fine," Jaxson tried to feign annoyance but he couldn't help the blush that betrayed him as he felt it working its way up his neck at Tyrus’ comment about how Corey feels about him. "Go find your little mutant before he activates his tractor beams and abducts somebody or somethin'," he sarcastically chided.

Tyrus, un-phased, simply flashed Jaxson an amused smirk before he turned toward the other corridor that held his room, one that he pretty much fully shared with Daffodil at this point.

However, before he could go more than a few steps, Jaxson’s arm suddenly jolted out to grab the hem of his orange hoodie in an effort to pause his exodus.

Tyrus's head snapped back around to the Beta as his eyes found the place at which he grabbed him, waiting patiently for an explanation of his actions.

Jaxson cheeks flamed even brighter under the heat of his inquisitive gaze but he quickly swallowed the stress-spit that had accumulated on his tongue along with his toxic pride as he quietly murmured...

"Thanks for everything, Ty," Jaxson breathed, his eyes flickering up to meet the Tyrus’ own before the Beta finally released the hem of the Warrior’s hoodie. "I mean it."

"I'm always here if you need me, O," Tyrus flashed his teeth as he grinned down at Jaxson, his expression unequivocally genuine, before he finally disappeared down the other hallway.

Puffing out a breath, the Betta turned and continued down the short walkway that led to the tall double doors of Alpha Oasis’ Suite.

Quickly typing in his pin number, Jaxson pushed the heavy doors open, only to be met with the high-pitched sound of excited screams and baby babble, as well as a sight that he wished that he could somehow photograph with his very own eyes.

Hale and Cassius somehow looked even smaller against the backdrop of Corey's huge body.

The Alpha Wolf gently swayed each infant as they laid, one in the crook of each strong arm.

A low voice undoubtedly vibrated their tiny forms as he... sang to them?

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.You make me happy, when skies are gray, You'll never know dear, how much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away."

The heavy sound of the door clicking shut immediately triggered Corey's freaky Warrior reflexes as his head snapped up to face Jaxson.

A brief sparkle flickered across his eyes as they took in his Mate’s figure and a barely noticeable blush simultaneously filled up his cheeks at being caught in the act.

“Ah... They were being fussy and my parents used to sing that song to us when we were scared or needed comfort, so I thought..." he trailed off, shifting in his spot as he continued to bounce the twins with the gentlest of movements.

"Don't let me stop you, super uncle," Jaxson teased, snatching an apple off of the kitchen island before making his way over to Alpha Oasis' couch.

He had a plan to make himself at home on it’s leather surface but not before sending an urgent prayer up to the Goddess that they'd had enough courtesy to disinfect it from all of the bodily fluids that surely had been spilled on it in the past.

"Plus, you have a really nice voice. I, on the other hand, probably would've just dropped 'em or something."

Corey made his way toward Jaxson as the Beta kicked what looked to be some sort of weird ass rattle out of his spot on the couch, wiggling his butt to get comfortable and taking a generous bite out of the apple he'd stolen.

Alpha Oasis' family was so baller that they must have had some kind of access to the rich people fruit black market too because that shit was bomb.

He literally would have moaned if it wasn't for Corey's voice distracting me.

"You would not drop them, Jax," he started, taking the opportunity to steal my personal space and sit right beside me on the couch. "In fact... you should hold Hale, he has been staring at you this entire time."

"Well, duh he's staring. He can already sense that I'm the coolest motherfucker in this entire pack, its called having taste," Jaxson said, rolling his eyes and slumping down in his spot. "But I'll pass. I doubt Oasis and Berlin would appreciate coming back home to their babies asking for me to be their dad instead. It's just this magnetic personality I've got, even infants aren't immune," he bragged, wiggling his brows in an effort to subdue the flight of butterflies in his lower stomach.

If he was being really truthful to himself, this vibrato was just a... somewhat sad... attempt to distract from the fact that he was scared as fuck of kids in all ways, shapes and forms that they came in.

‘Don't get me wrong, it's not like I have some irrational baby-phobia. Even a somewhat rational person knows that they aren't going to kill you in your sleep or some stupid shit like that. No, my fear stemmed from another place entirely. That place being... a lack of trust in myself.’

‘It's easy as hell to fuck up a kid, I mean just look at jolly old me as a prime example. Just a few slip-ups and a kid could be addicted to opioids, crying alone under a weighted blanket and unable to accept the reality that they might just like the occasional dick up the old ass.’

‘Therefore, with my unique knack for doing and saying all of the wrong things, I had absolutely no doubt that somehow, all the shit that I faced as a kid would inevitably find a way trickle down to any kids I even so much as touched, like I was some fucked-up, modern King Midas.’

Corey's eyes were red hot lasers as they seared into the side of Jaxson’s face and the corner of the Beta’s eye twitched as he could almost feel them boring straight into his brain, revealing the entirety of his thoughts.

"Jaxson, you will not hurt him."

The Beta abruptly paused in the middle of his assault on his rich-people apple, staring straight at the wide, wooden floorboards as he realized just how fast Corey clocked him.

This man seriously had to be some sort of mind-reading wizard, some kind of real-life Edward Cullen with the way he could seemingly read his thoughts as if they were his own.

Jaxson gently set down the apple next to him on the couch, closing his eyes for an excruciating moment as he contemplated how to respond.

"How do you know that?" came a broken whisper, Jaxson’s voice almost unrecognizable to even his own ears as he maintained eye contact with every single grain in the wood below their feet.

Corey did not hesitate at all to respond, apparently not needing a single moment to gather his thoughts on the matter.

Instead, he just leaned slightly closer to his Mate and lowered his tone of voice to a soft caress.

"Because you are gentle and kind. Because you are my Mate and I know your heart. Because you are not Ortiz, you are Jaxson."

Jaxson’s eyes shifted up to take in Corey's handsome, blank face as he stared right back down at him, a strong emotion that was not his own zipping through their bond.

"Jax, you are more than the weight of your darkest memories. Do not let them dictate your now."

The Beta had to force his esophagus to function as he swallowed down the salty tears that threatened to work themselves up his throat, instead focusing on filling his lungs full of air for a few breaths as he took a moment to process the way Corey’s words made his heart palpitate uncontrollably.

‘You are more than the weight of your darkest memories.’

Instead of replying with the jumble of incoherent words that he’s sure would come out if he attempted to speak, he simply held out his arms as an invitation, very likely failing miserably in his attempt to mimic the angle that Corey expertly utilized to hold the babies safely.

Jaxson was pretty sure that he blacked out in the time between Corey transferring Hale's tiny body into his waiting arms and wrapping his Mate’s now-free arm loosely around his waist to keep him grounded.

But...

As the Beta gazed down at the little one that was somehow not crumbling to dust at his very touch, the little one whose tiny lips opened with the smallest yawn known to man, the little one whose hand reached up to grab onto Jaxson’s index finger for dear life, the little one who stared up at him with eyes of amazement and trust...

It was as if another dejected corner of his burnt up brain lit up with sunlight for the first time in forever, shining an inescapable spotlight on yet another set of feelings that he forgot even existed.

Tenderness.

Care.

Some of the many, complicated things that Jaxson had absolutely zero perspective about how to provide to others because it simply wasn't his reality throughout his life.

But... he could do his best to give it to them.

The wonderful, fun, loving life that he never had.

The life he always craved.

"Hi Hale," Jaxson jiggled the tiny hand that held tight to his finger. "I'm Jax, your papa's crazy best friend," he croaked, unsure when the tears got past his esophageal dam as they dripped down his chin in a steady rivulets. "It's so nice to meet you."

Corey's arm tightened around Jaxson’s waist as he held him tight to his side, chin resting atop his curly head as he whispered, likely intended only to be heard by himself but the Beta still caught it.

"You are going to make the best dad one day."

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dp-marvel94 · 3 years

Text

Dan Redemption with a twist

So I'm still geeking out over my ask that @stillebesat answered a few days ago, the one where about an upcoming fic. I've been playing around with a really similar idea, with a redeemed Dan fusing with a clone of Danny, for months now.

Here's my idea:

First of all, my preferred version of Dan is basically Danny but evil. He less fused with Plasmius and more consumed his powers so Dan doesn't have any of Vlad's memories. Next, I'm a big fan of the idea that Dan deeply regrets killing his human half and is, for lack of a better word, haunted by the action. It was the first death of his reign of terror, his final chance to turn back from the dark path he was on and...it was his suicide.

Now, Dan doesn't realize any of this for what feels like centuries. He's trapped in the Fenton thermos in Clockwork's lair, alone with only his thoughts. And the knowledge starts creeping in, all that he'd lost, all that he'd done. He realizes that he misses his friends and family and to his surprise, he hopes his younger self saved them. But then he realized that he tried to kill them. And the guilt starts creeping in. The regret follows and he remembers all the rest of his crimes. He doesn't have enough humanity, enough emotional capacity to be wrecked but he's no longer a rage fueled destructive monster.

Then to Dan's shook, Clockwork releases him without a word. The master of time dumps him in the new timeline, maybe a few months after the events of TUE. To his dim relief, Dan finds that his friends and family are all still alive. He watches them for a while, trying to process where he is and what happened. But then he runs into Danny. And things don't go well. It's a rocky start. Danny does not trust Dan at all. He doesn't trust that the older ghost has no intention of hurting his loved ones. Danny is ready and willing to fight and recapture him. The younger's opinion doesn't change until Dan saves him and Jazz during a ghost attack. The two ghosts, at Jazz's insistence, come to an uneasy impasse. Danny will leave Dan alone if the older ghost leaves him and his family alone. Dan isn't really happy about this arrangement but it's better than being trapped in the thermos again and he does have no intention of hurting his younger counterpart or his loved ones.

So Dan concedes. He stays out of Danny's way. He watches. He catches glimpses of his former friends and family from a distance. And it hurts. Dan feels out of place, disconnected. This isn't his time, isn't his place. He's stuck on the outside looking in... and this timeline already has a Danny, one who didn't make the aggresous mistakes he did. And those mistakes... the guilt's still there but like all other emotions, it's dim and distant. That's how it's been since his death, with every emotion but rage. But still, Dan does not like being on the outside looking in. He needs to do something else with himself, find some place he can belong.

Then Dan remembers Vlad. He had gone to the older half ghost after losing everything. And... Vlad had tried to help him. Separating the then halfa at his request had been a horrible idea but Vlad had been trying. Vlad did care about him. And.... the man must be so lonely now. Lonely like Dan himself is.

It's something of a wim but Dan goes to the older halfa. And at first, it's a surprise to Vlad and then seemingly a dream come true. Here in front of him is a version of Daniel who wants to stay by his side willingly. This Dan is more powerful and experienced than his younger counterpart, though not as experienced as Vlad. The young man is willing to be taught and all he seemingly wants is companionship. Yes, it would be a dream come true except...

Dan will not tolerate any of Vlad's shit. He will not be used to hurt anyone ever again. He will not take part in any of Vlad's schemes against the Fentons. It's a high price to pay but the older man backs off. Vlad is content to not be alone and have a chance to convince Dan to work with him.

So Dan stays with Vlad. With the older man busy with work, Dan has free reign of the mansion for most of the day. In some ways, it's nice. Away from Amity Park, there's no temptation to check on his former loved ones. His longing for a life he can no longer have is diminished. Vlad's mansion provides ample distraction, in the library, the game room, the gardens. But... the days are long and often lonely and the nights... they're even worse. The large building, empty and quiet, it's too much like a time Dan wishes he could forget. The memories are stronger now. After the fiery explosion...weeks of weeping in his room. Somber diners with Vlad where he couldn't force himself to eat. Waking up from another nightmare.

Without his humanity, the grief isn't as soul wrenching as it should be. But it's ever present, the memories on repeat. And there is little to break them up. As a ghost, Dan cannot sleep. He cannot eat. He can't truly feel the sun on his face or the comforting chill of the water on the pool. All physical sensations are dimmed.

And Dan starts to realize, it's excruciating. He feels incomplete, like there's a gapping whole in his chest. The memories of his own death, seen from the outside, return. His own icy blue eyes wide with fear and pain. Red blood spattered on his face. It's horrifying. Or it should be. If Dan could muster up more than the dimmest shadow of the emotion. But he can't, because the part of him that could died 10 years ago. And... this is wrong. He is wrong.

He should have died completely as himself, as Danny Fenton. He shouldn't have watched his death from the outside by his own hands. He shouldn't be this half being that couldn't even be bothered to die properly.

Dan stews, a forgotten anger growing as he longs for something he'd once wanted rid of. His human self, his Fenton, his humanity... he wants it. He wants to be truly, completely himself again. He wants to be whole enough to fade, to move on.

But that is the problem with ghosts, especially one like him. They do not change. They do not move on. As much as Dan acts like he is older, like he is different, he is not. He's the same angry, broken teen that he was ten years ago. And he will never be anything else.

Dan rages, trashing Vlad's training room. Soon enough, his anger is spent and the young man comes back to his senses. Dan huffs in frustration and annoyance at himself. He'd rather enjoyed Vlad's training room and now the man himself will likely be cross with him. Dan does his best to put the room back in order and find something else to do.

But the pain, regret, and longing linger. At some level, Dan thinks he's being ridiculous. All his former loved ones are alive. Dan isn't alone. He has Vlad and the ability to determine his own future. This world wasn't ravaged by his hand. His mistakes have been erased. He should be free. Except...

No, his mistakes are not all erased. His own death returns to his mind over and over. He shouldn't think about, he shouldn't dwell on it but...

One day, Dan goes down to Vlad's secret lab. He knows he shouldn't. This is such a breach of Vlad's trust but... this is were it happened. The young man stares at the metal table. If he was capable of feelings cold, he would shiver. There, where he was pulled out of his body. That wall, he cornered his human half there, the boy cowering in fear. There, that control panel was spattered with his own blood.

Dan wishes he could cry but he's not human enough for that. He's not human at all. But he wishes he was.

Startled by the thought, the full ghost turns away. He shouldn't wish for things he can't have but... no. Dan's eyes flicker around the room, looking for small differences from his memories. Some of the equipment is laid out differently. There are different samples on the shelf and... that door wasn't there before.

Dan walks through and finds... metal and glass chambers in different degrees of construction. A few are filled with ectoplasm and there in the back... if Dan had a heart, it would stop. There in a clear pod with a breathing mask over his face is...Danny Fenton. No, that's not right. This isn't... this isn't his timeline. And his younger counterpart is in Amity Park so....

Dan frantically searches Vlad's computer, his notes for answers. Clones. Vlad had been trying to clone his younger half ghost counterpart. In the tube... clone 3. Fully human. Suffered mental decline from 2 weeks gestation and eventually brain death a month later. Body kept alive by machines since... the week Dan arrived.

Dan wishes he could feel shock. He wishes he could feel relief. From the data, this was the first attempt that even resembled something human. The others were by all measures animals, in no way sentient. And it appears Vlad hasn't continued working since Dan came to live with him. But still...

Dan confronts Vlad, asking about the experiments, about the clone kept on life support.

"I could not bear to pull the plug." Vlad answers, surprisingly sober. "I'd hoped his condition would improve." There is a far away look in his eyes, a longing. "I tried everything I could think of to stop the degradation but..." The older half ghost shook his head. "I'm continuing to monitor 3's status." There was a pain in Vlad voice. "I fear he won't live to see the outside of his chamber."

Vlad was in denial, Dan thinkd. This clone is gone, like his own human half. The heart still beats, the lungs still breath but...

He shock his head. "Before you approach me, I consider...if I could create a viable, ghostly clone and coax the spirit to hybridize with the body..."

The idea was ridiculous and he should be disgusted, hearing all Vlad had done, what he had planned but...

"That is all in the past now." Vlad finished sadly.

All in the past like the loss of his own human half. He shouldn't wish for things that he couldn't have but...

"I'm a viable ghost..." Dan could barely believe the words coming out his mouth. "Not a clone but... I am without a human side."

Vlad is staring at him like he has another head, something which Dan was sure he did not currently have. "Daniel...are you suggesting... what I think you are suggesting?"

Was he? It was ridiculous, impossible. He could not replace his human side by... possessing an animated corpse.

"No. I am not." Dan denied. "Forget I said anything."

Vlad gave a nod, dropping the conversation. But Dan did not forget. This idea... it was wrong. It was impossible. He couldn't be made a half ghost again. But...

The temptation. If anyone could get it to work, it would be Vlad. And if it did...the ghost floats to what had been his bedroom and laid down. If it worked, he could sleep. He could eat. He could go out in public with human. It would necessarily be a replacement for what he'd lost but...

No... this was wrong. This was basically a clone of himself whose body he wanted to steal. But... was it really? This was an empty body, no mind, no soul. It was mad science but... Dan was already the product of mad science.

And if it worked, not as an overshadowing but a hybrization... he could truly age, he could grow passed what happened. And he could feel more than the pale shadows he could now.

The next day, Dan asks Vlad for what he wants.

"Are you sure?" The man asked. "This could have unknown consequences on your body or your mind. You could even destabilize."

That gave Dan pause. This might not work. He might end up in unknown pain or even fade but... "this is worth the risk."

The pair work together, planning and experimenting. They give the body transfusions of Dan's ectoplasm. The younger ghost practices envisioning himself as a halfa again. He prepares himself.

"I will need to reduce you down to your core." Vlafd says solemnly.

Dan places his existence in Vlad's hands. After blowing off seemingly endless amounts of energy in a desolate portion of the Ghost Zone, the older halfa repeatedly shocks him with the Plasmius Maximus. Dan's body pops out of existence, leaving his core exposed.

As just a core, there is no sensation. No input. No output. It's terrifyingly like being in the thermos again. Dan knows he is being moved. Vlad is doing something to him but... there is nothing and too much at the same time.

Dan can not process. He is cradled. There is something beside him, something around him reaching out. Something is changing. He is changing. It is too much. Dan loses consciousness for the first time in ten years. It is not sleep. There is no dream. He can think one moment, separated from the world. And the next...

He is under water. Something is beeping. He feels light but heavy. Cold but warm. His center is fluttering, something straining and pounding. An emotion. Something that might be panic or fear suddenly rises in him, crashing over him as a wave. An equally panicked voice comes from in front of him. Then there's a sting in his neck. Sting? Pain? Pain, it's been so long since he felt pain. And... his neck? He has a neck again. Dan blacks out again.

The young man comes to again. There is still something beeping near his head. He's not under water now but laying on something soft. Soft and warm. Warm....Dan can feel that. His breath hitches. Breath... he feels lungs move on his chest. And...he feel heavy and warm. Something... something happened. He can't remember what...

Dan's eyes flutter open, falling on... Vlad.

The man's eyes met his, relief flashing across them. "Daniel." He sighs. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" Dan crocks. Is that... is that his voice? "What...what happened?" The ghost (?) thinks he might know. "Did it work?" He whispered.

Dan's voice... his voice is high, like when he was a younger teen. It should feel strange but...

"Take a look." Vlad says, offering him a mirror.

Dan reaches forward with a shaking hand. His hand... it's not gloved, neither is it blue. It's.... he stares. It's a pale peach color like... his hands are smaller and thinner....

"Daniel." Vlad interrupts. "It's alright." He holds the mirror up and...

Dan meets blue eyes. His own blue eyes. Eyes he never thought he'd see again except on someone else. His eyes water as he reaches towards the mirror. "It worked."

His new heart is aching, a thousand emotions hitting him. Joy, happiness, relief, grief, guilt, regret. All of them are bigger, nearer, more real and soul-aching than it's been in years. He should be upset. He looks and sounds like a kid again. But... "I'm alive."

He is alive. And it is a joy. A gift. A promise. He will not waste this second chance.

The newly remade halfa is crying and...it's never felt so good.

#danny phantom #dan phantom #vlad plasmius #i know Dan's grossly ooc here but i do not care.#my post #my ficlet

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btzone · 2 years

Text

Captain’s log 2022.04.22

Captain’s log was something I did years ago to hold myself accountable when I had many things to update on my B-T website. Seems to be a pattern of mine to let things slip for several years and then spend furious spurts to catch up and revamp. So far, I don’t think I have time for a revamp. First, I must catch up.

I’ve been updating here and then. I intend to focus on one section but then a squirrel walks by. Over the course of the updates I’ve been doing, I have also let go of some mental rigidness. I felt like only mentioning something once. If it was in the discography section, it doesn’t need to be in the history. There were some things I didn’t write about in too much detail to help keep the rock myth as all good bands have myths. I can’t name anything specific, but I realize that there will always be an air of mystery when it comes to rock. There’s no threat to their iconic status to elaborate a little here and there. I’ve also surprised myself at times when I’ve discovered certain details are missing. In short, as you get older, your approach to things, your outlook, your interests, all of these change and affect something as small as what you may write or present on a website.

Not sure when I started really furiously getting back at it but here’s my brain dump of the things I’ve been doing and some of the things I plan on doing next.

B-T Zone updates made:

Spreadsheets updated. I know, who makes a fan website with spreadsheets? Me! I have a spreadsheet for all their songs so you can easily answer your burning questions like how many songs has a certain member written in B-T, written in a side project, written overall. When was the first time the band played a certain song and when was the last time. (To the best of my ability given there’s many gigs where the setlist was never published.) I have another spreadsheet on how many times B-T played a given prefecture since they first started. The spreadsheet with the price of each release at the time of release was last updated in June 2021. I need to update that one. From there, it calculates how much money you need every month to be a B-T fan.

History updated to now have 2014-2020. This includes all concerts and published setlists. I also went back and redid the setlist for every year so that the songs are now numbered so you can easily see how many songs were performed at each show. I also added the side project gigs to the concert chronology as they were previously excluded and only surface details published in the Releases section under the respective side project. At first I was rewriting and editing the history from the very beginning, but somewhere in the early 1990s took a break and moved on to 2014-2020. I need to go back into editor mode for roughly 1990-2010. I did random updates though, including more info on the two portable stereo systems that Buck-Tick endorsed, additional details about venues they played at, such as capacity for the early days so you can get a sense of how quickly they grew. I also added details for when they played baseball stadiums, as these are larger venues and another measure of a band’s success. Given that the Higuchi brothers are huge fans of baseball and U-ta has participated in public talks about baseball, it felt right to include that info and a little commentary on Japanese baseball culture. (My family is from a prefecture without a local team so I’ve never been to a game in Japan and only gave a cursory description.)

Members section has updated equipment details.

Releases section has screenshots for all the music videos up to 2020. Many releases updated for consistency in the way the details are presented, hardly noticeable. Added the regular edition cover for releases where I only had the limited edition cover. For each album, added links to the singles from that album and links to any other releases I might have referred to. Added guest appearances from the past few years.

Media section has more magazine covers and some posters added. Hisashi posted demos of songs on his instagram a couple years ago so I also added those as mp3s.

Daily history javascript has been updated to include trivia about even more shit. It appears on the main page and is how I keep track of what to post on twitter everyday.

B-T Zone updates in the works: (no promises on when these will be available but I tried to list them in order of priority)

Releases section needs all the releases since 2014, including the side projects. I have some templates drafted for this but not all the releases have been drafted yet. I took some screen captures from the live videos. Need to scan the artwork and figure out what screen captures are left to do. Then, to sort through and select which ones to use. I need to decide on how to list the Aku No Hana 2015 remaster box set. As a new release with its own entry or as part of the Aku No Hana original listing from 1990?

History section has a summary of each year. I want to skim over it and see if there’s anything really important for a particular year that I excluded from the summary. Never too early to draft the history for 2022!

Fan club back issues guide for Fish Tank needs to be updated with the recent issues.

Tour merchandise section needs to be updated with items from the recent tours. I hate when I procrastinate this because I just save images and then later have no idea what the fuck it’s from.

Lyrics needs to be updated with songs from the past few albums and singles. I have drafts for all of these but I need time to review for accuracy and even then there will still be typos. The search engine for the lyrics doesn’t work anymore. I have tried fixing it but nothing was working. It was a waste of time. I think I need to take a week off work just to address this one issue.

I’ve thought about using this as an opportunity to redesign the entire site so that it’s flexible for mobile screens but that’s a lot of work and there’s a lot of questions I need to ask myself on how I would re-do things based on those limitations. To me, scrolling is bad and clicking is bad. But, clicking is definitely worse. So I think it’s unavoidable that I’m going to end up with really long scrolls when I get rid of all side menu content that fucks up mobile view.

I need to figure out how to automate the daily history tweets. I have tried in the past some ideas but they never worked right. Maybe they improved since then and I could try a more recent version, if I can remember them. It’s a huge time suck to figure out what code will work when you’re not a coder. I have yet to find any tutorial that even addresses what my needs are. Everything is on randomizing. I used to have random quotes all over another website I used to do. There’s nothing to it, so simple. But I can find nothing on taking a data source with dates on it and then get date and iteratively posting while date equals today. Plus, it would be really nice to include an image. Call this a luxury item after I do everything to make the site feel current in its contents.

#buck-tick zone

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

Well that happened.

B!dbwm 2020

Day 6: Meeting the Justice League

Marinette paced in her bedroom in Wayne Manor, running her hands through her hair as Damian laid on her bed and played animal crossing while completely ignoring her freakout.

“Dami, how did I get myself into this mess?!” she asked, frantically pulling at her pigtails. Her brother snorted, rolling his eyes unsympathetically.

“You never use your brain until after you’ve already made important decisions,” he responded ruthlessly. “All of your mental capacity goes towards planning out completely inane things like birthday parties and actually caring about what our even more idiotic class thinks about you, so when you actually need it you don’t have any intelligence left to spare.”

Marinette turned her eyes on him, the blue lightening to an icy color in her panicked annoyance as she glared at him. “Gee, thanks. I can always trust my darling brother to have my back,” she said sarcastically, to which Damian only smirked.

“When it matters? Of course. But in this case, watching the fallout will be entertaining and not at all dangerous to your physical safety.”

Damian and Marinette had been sent to live in Paris a few years back, about a year after Damian had come back to life. Marinette had been far too attached to the twin she had thought she had lost for good, and had nearly driven him crazy with how overprotective she had gotten. Right alongside that, Damian had started to become even more stifled by Bruce’s own protectiveness and distrust of him, so he quit being Robin and they were sent to PAris to try and “recover” from their “trauma” somewhere “safe and peaceful, under the jurisdiction of the JLE.”

Yeah, that was a great idea. Up until they found out the hard way that the JLE had up and abandoned the Paris headquarters and taken up unofficial residence in England somewhere. And then Hawkmoth showed up. And of course, of fucking course, an old chinese man from the pacifistic organization that acted as a direct foil to the League where they grew up somehow decided that they, out of everyone in Paris, were the best people he could find to wield the power of tiny gods to save the city.

Sure, he was right, but Damian chewed him a new asshole as soon they met for trusting complete unvetted strangers with the gods of creation and destruction.

And now Marinette had finally managed to leak to Tim, who then spread the calculated slip of information to Bruce, that Paris had had a supervillain for the past few years and the JLE had been neglecting their jobs. Which turned into Batman setting up a meeting with Ladybug and Chat Noir (Damian had tried to tell everyone his name was Chance Noir, Dark Luck, NOT ‘chat noir,’ since the last thing he needed was to be associated with Selina in any way. Nobody listened, and now he was stuck with being called Chat Noir). They had a lovely discussion about all the shit Hawkmoth did, their lack of resources, and the lack of assistance/straight up refusal to believe their word that came from the JLE.

Which led to Batman inviting Ladybug to meet the Justice League to debrief on the Paris situation. Damian had been invited as Chat Noir, but had taken the smart path and opted out. Now Marinette had to not only go to the Justice League as Ladybug, but also as Batman's daughter Hummingbird, who was being brought in for consultation along with Damian as Robin.

“I’m gonna die again,” Marinette continued her catastrophizing, Tikki and Plagg sharing a glance at once another from their spot on her writing desk. “I’m gonna die of total embarrassment. Don’t bother resurrecting me Dami, I’m just gonna die all over again once Dad finds out who we are and kills me.”

Damian snorted. “Hah. Father killing anything, good one,” he snarked back blandly. “You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re the planner and I’m the one with actual skill. You have the strangest ability when it comes to getting out of situations like these by the skin of your teeth,” Damian grinned at something on the screen of his Switch before continuing. “You’ll be fine. And if you sell me out, I’ll bury you myself.”

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him. Neither of them wanted their dad to find out that they were LAdybug and Chat noir, especially since they had already explained to him the basics of the source of their powers. They were both certain that Bruce would completely ignore how well they had been handling the situation on their own for almost five years and jump straight to the “my murderous children should not be left with the powers of destruction and creation at their fingertips,” line of thought. Bruce had never trusted them alone before, why now?

“At least help me, shaqiq?” Marinette asked, walking over and plopping onto the ground next to her bed, so she could look straight into her twin’s bright green eyes. At first, he refused to even look at her, completely unmoved. Marinette hummed mischievously, a habit that was the source of her Gotham codename. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

Damian finally huffed, scowling. “Fine.”

He knew better than to doubt her. Marinette always got her way when she decided she was wronged and needed to even the score for something. Always.

—* — * — * — * — *

Hummingbird. The smallest Bat, by far, and the fastest when it came to natural speed. Hard to spot, with the sole giveaway that a short playful hum could be heard if she thought she had her prey cornered. She was hardly ever wrong.

She had also been temporarily retired as she and Robin moved to some undisclosed location to get away from the vigilante life for a while. Or so Batman said. And for the most part, aside from the occasional League gathering here or glimpse that they got of the two’s civilian personas if someone visited the manor while they were there, Robin and Hummingbird stayed retired. Heroes who knew them wondered if Robin had finally given up and settled down somehow, if he was even capable of it. And they all speculated that Hummingbird was so scarred from Robin’s death that she wouldn't ever be able to leave his side again, retired or not.

Seeing Hummingbird in her navy blue and black uniform, almost identical to her brother’s but for the thick navy blue scarf that covered her neck and lower face, everyone in the Justice League who knew her thought they were right. She stood there, older and only a little taller, never leaving Robin’s side as they traded secretive glances and hand signals only they understood. They didn’t make any attempt to stray from one another’s side.

But Jon Kent, superboy and Damian’s oldest friend, was of a different mind. He had been by Marinette’s side after Damian died, and by both of theirs when he was brought back. This was not the same terrified dependence he had seen back then. His eyes narrowed.

The twins were scheming, and nobody else would notice until it was too late.

Quicker than they could blink, he was by their side with his trademark smile. “Hey guys! Long time no see!”

They gave the half-kryptonian identical deadpan expressions, sighing in tandem. “You facetimed us last night. And you flew to Paris to visit us last week,” Damian pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Despite us expressly telling you not to.”

Jon shrugged. “If I listened to everything you two said all the time, we’d never have any fun. So, excited to meet this Ladybug girl? Dad says that your dad won’t tell him anything about her until she shows up.”

Hummingbird and Robin traded looks before Marinette answered. “Not really. We see Ladybug in action in Paris all the time—”

“She even saved Marinette from an Akuma who was obsessed with wanting to date her,” Damian interrupted with an insufferable grin. Marinette elbowed him hard, making her brother wince before chuckling at her red face.

“I could have saved myself just fine! It’s not my fault we have to lay low, or we might get kicked out of Paris for being past vigilantes!” Marinette argued, voice high as she protested how helpless Damian had made her sound. She puffed her cheeks out in annoyance. Damian’s grin widened into a predatory smirk that showed off teeth.

“Oh? What about that one time that Tsurugi got akumatized, and Chat Noir had to save you because she wanted to duel you for the right to date me and you were cornered?”

Marinette growled, throwing up her hands in frustration before smacking Damian’s shoulder angrily. He only laughed at her. “I’m leaving! Come find me when Ladybug finishes explaining the things we already know!” with that, a fuming and embarrassed Hummingbird stormed out of the room.

“Huh,” Flash remarked, leaning against the wall. “She looks a lot better than the last time I saw her. And she actually left your immediate vicinity. Willingly,” he remarked to Robin, who glared at the speedster.

“It’s been almost six years. If you think my sister is weak enough to be that thoroughly encumbered by the past for so long, you are greatly underestimating her,” he looked around to see almost all of the gathered League members staring at him. He grit his teeth and looked over at his father. “When is this woman going to arrive, anyway? You’d think she would actually be on time.”

Just then, a portal opened in the middle of the room and Ladybug walked through. Quickly shedding the brown costume that allowed her to teleport in, she was left in just her black and red-spotted combat suit. Seeing as they finally found out how to alter the costumes the Kwami gave them, Ladybug’s hair now sat in a braided bun on the crown of her head and her costume was made to look more like Nightwing’s with the ladybug symbol on her upper chest and between her shoulder blades on her back, with black gloves that reached up to her elbows and black knee-high boots with red stripes up the sides.

The brightly colored heroine smiled, seeming to light up the room with cheer that nearly put Jon to shame (it took her awhile to perfect that particular smile. She actually based it off Jon himself, and Damian was impressed by how accurate she had been able to make it over time. Not that he would say as much out loud).

That was when Diana started choking on thin air, and Damian and Marinette both realized that they had overlooked something rather major.

Hippolyta had been a Ladybug. Diana had met Tikki. Diana knew how to see past Tikki’s glamour.

At first, Ladybug tried to play it off. Maybe Diana would catch on and help her out. So she walked over, holding her hand out for Wonderwoman to shake and putting on another wide smile for good measure.

“Oh my Kwamii! It is so good to finally meet you, Wonderwoman, Tikki told me so much about you and your mother! Would you like to talk later—”

“Marinette Wayne, how in Zeus’ name did you become the new Ladybug?” Wonderwoman instantly yelled, making Marinette wilt. Damian tried backing away slowly, only for Diana’s eyes to then shoot over to him and narrow dangerously. “And you! I knew I felt something weird, but now I can pinpoint it. You are wielding the Black Cat! One of you explain what is going on. Now.”

Ladybug and Robin instantly looked away, getting ready to make a quick escape right as their father walked up behind Robin, putting a firm hand on his shoulders. As always when Batman smiled, it sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. Marinette gulped a little.

“I agree. Marinette, I forgot to tell you that we changed the locations of the League security cameras last night,” shit they were so busted. Bruce must have suspected them of something from the very beginning, stupid world’s greatest detective instincts— “But now that we have confirmed that my suspicions were correct, we can save that discussion for later. First, let’s debrief on the Paris situation like we agreed. Then, you two will explain why you decided not to tell me while you help each other clean the entire Batcave tonight.”

Damian didn’t open his hand for the entire meeting. He and Marinette made eye contact as soon as everyone sat down for a suddenly very uneasy debrief, silently agreeing that they would not let their father take away their Miraculous. They finally had names and reputations of their own, away from the Batclan and their father’s influence. They had learned more about themselves and what they were capable of in those past years as Miraculous wielders than in all the years of the rest of their lives combined. They wouldn’t give it up, not even for Bruce’s approval.

But when they got back to the Manor and began cleaning up the batcave as they had been ordered, they were surprised when Bruce made no mention of taking their jewelry back at all. And he stayed up with them, silently reviewing things on the Batcomputer as they cleaned. It could almost be considered family bonding.

By the time the twins were done cleaning the sun was about to rise, and finally their father spoke up for the first time since they had begun their punishment chore.

“I watched days worth of your Paris battles before going out to meet Ladybug and Chat Noir in person,” he said without ever turning around from his spot at the computer. “I was impressed. I still am. The teamwork was flawless, and the Parisian heroes never used deadly force. They even did their best to provide emotional support to the victims who were akumatized. I thought for sure at least one of you two would have been victims yourself, with all that you’ve been through. Anything can be a trigger for you, anything can make you vulnerable to Hawkmoth,” Bruce paused to take a sip of coffee. He didn’t have to look at his children’s reflections in the face of the Batcomputer to know they were drinking in every word he said. He did anyway, allowing a small smile that they couldn’t see to form on his lips.

“I scoured through every akuma attack one by one, trying to find the one where one or both of you were the ones possessed. But I only found more reasons to be impressed by the heroes instead. By the time I was done looking through every scrap of video I could find, I had a feeling I knew who you were. Hearing your voices in person cemented it further, but I wanted video proof. So, knowing that Marinette would have forgotten about agreeing to accompany me to a JL meeting, I asked Ladybug to debrief us.”

“You had us from the start,” Marinette sighed, shoulders slumping. But Damian said nothing, eyes wide as he picked up on the nuances of what Bruce was saying that Marinette was too tired to catch on to.

“I’m proud of you two.”

Then, even Marinette froze. The twins had identical expressions of shock on their faces, and Bruce finally turned around to look at them properly. For a long while, the three of them only made silent eye contact as dozens of emotions flew through the air silently, but understood. Then Damian and Marinette straightened up just and silently. Damian nodded to his father, Marinette gave him a vulnerable little smile, and then they both backed out and went to head to sleep.

And once they were gone, Bruce sighed in content. Seems his meet-the-Justice-League plan worked out perfectly. He had finally managed to say something right to his two most troublesome children, for the first time. He leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the dark bat-infested cave ceiling as one more tiny grin played on his face, a little melancholy this time.

Guess they never needed him to help them find their inner hero, after all. They had become even better at the whole hero thing than he was, and all on their own. Bruce closed his eyes, not noticing when Alfred draped a blanket over his body and left the Cave with a soft chuckle.

--*--*--*--*--*

This sucked, but I wanted to give you guys something. So. here you go I guess?

#maribat #b!dbwm2020 #b!dbwm #bio!dad bruce wayne #Platonic daminette #sibling daminette #Damian as Chat Noir #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Miraculous ladybug X DC #idk what happened don't yell at me #another one-hour fic

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

Text

Arkham Files: The Top

Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Roscoe Dillon, also known as the Top. Patient suffers from Bipolar Disorder, type one, and is on the autism spectrum. Session One. Good day, Mr. Dillon.

The Top: I am not autistic, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: Mr. Dillon, the psychologist at Iron Heights has tested you for the condition multiple times, and the results are always consistent with your being on the autism spectrum. What’s more, the psychological tests we gave to you upon your arrival to Arkham Asylum also suggest that you are, indeed, autistic.

The Top: I do not care what that quack at Iron Heights says, Doctor Hugo Strange. I am not intellectually subnormal.

Hugo Strange: Mr. Dillon, being on the autism spectrum has nothing to do with your level of intelligence. It simply means that you have difficulty in understanding social cues.

The Top: In my experience, it is the world that has trouble understanding me, not the other way around. I do not understand why everyone believes that I am odd because I enjoy educating them about tops. Tops are fascinating; certainly much more so than sports or beer or whatever else it is that so-called “normal” people enjoy.

Hugo Strange: Tops?

The Top: Yes, tops. You know, Doctor Hugo Strange, the basic principles involved in the spinning of a top are also those used in gyroscopes, guided missile systems, and the gyro stabilizers in ocean liners. Tops are amazing!

Hugo Strange: Tops?

The Top: Yes, Doctor Hugo Strange. Tops!

Hugo Strange: Tops? As in, the children’s toy?

The Top: Is there something wrong with your hearing, Doctor Hugo Strange?

Hugo Strange: Do you mean to tell me that, in calling yourself the Top, you are not making a claim as to your superiority, but rather making a reference to a toy?

The Top: Actually, Doctor Hugo Strange, I am doing both. I am both a living top and at the top of my profession. My costume has stripes on it so that I may better emulate a top when I spin.

Hugo Strange: Your costume is intended to make you look like a giant top?

The Top: It is, Doctor Hugo Strange. Why?

Hugo Strange: Well, that certainly explains its...unusual appearance.

The Top: (Offended) My costume is no more unusual than that of the Trickster or the Mirror Master, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: I didn’t say that it was, Mr. Dillon.

The Top: Good. (Pause) Now, Doctor Hugo Strange, would you care to explain why I was transported to an institution a thousand miles away from my base of operations upon my most recent arrest?

Hugo Strange: I wish I knew myself, Mr. Dillon. The workings of the judicial system as it regards the costumed population never cease to bewilder me. However, I must say that I am glad to have you here, Mr. Dillon. You are clearly mentally ill, and Iron Heights clearly has made no progress in treating your condition.

The Top: I am not mentally ill, Doctor Hugo Strange!

Hugo Strange: Mr. Dillon, mental illness is not a sign of a moral or intellectual deficit. It simply means that your brain has become diseased, just as any other part of your body might.

The Top: Nevertheless, I maintain that I am not mentally ill, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Doctor Strange: According to your record, when you first became the Top, you threatened to blow up half the world with a, quote, “atomic grenade” if all the governments of the world did not acknowledge you as the ruler of the world within ten hours. You did this while under the belief that you would somehow be safe on the other side of the planet should the bomb go off. Mr. Dillon, can you spot the flaw in this plan? You are obviously an intelligent man.

The Top: Of course I can, Doctor Hugo Strange. If half the planet was blown up, the entire planet would have been devastated. Even if I was on the other side of the planet from the epicenter of the explosion, I likely still would have been killed.

Hugo Strange: (Shocked) Wait...you actually built an atomic grenade with the power to blow up half the world?

The Top: Of course. I am a genius, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: You built an atomic grenade that could spin around like a top and possessed the capacity to blow up half the world?

The Top: You have a dreadful habit of repeating yourself, Doctor Hugo Strange. But yes, I did.

Hugo Strange: Then all those other tops your record claims you invented actually worked as well? And you actually made a giant top-shaped satellite that you launched into orbit?

The Top: I am supposed to have a mood disorder, not a psychotic disorder, Dr. Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: Well, yes, but severe bouts of mania and depression are known to sometimes bring on psychotic symptoms. I had thought that your claims of having successfully invented such an improbable array of top-shaped weapons were the result of delusions brought on by one of your mood episodes.

The Top: No. The quack at Iron Heights says that I was having a manic episode during my attempt to become ruler of the Earth, and that that is why I did not realize the flaws in my plan. They allege that I was having “mood-congruent delusions of grandeur and invulnerability”, but at no point did they accuse me of outright hallucinating. Surely that is in the report, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: (Annoyed, but not with the Top) While I do not fully agree with your assertions that the psychologist at Iron Heights is a quack, Mr. Dillon, I must admit that they are distinctly lacking in some key areas-such as specifying which of your behaviors and claims were the results of a mood episode and which were not. Knowing that you have had at least five manic episodes and at least three depressive episodes is worthwhile knowledge, but without adequate context, how do they expect me to know what behaviors are a sign that you are no longer in a healthy state of mind?

The Top: Three depressive episodes, Doctor Hugo Strange? As far as I am aware, the quack has only had me hospitalized for depression twice.

Hugo Strange: That is because the first listed depressive episode was an attempted suicide at the age of 17, which would have been before you ever went to prison.

The Top: Oh. Yes, that did...that did happen, Doctor Hugo Strange. It was how I learned that taking a dozen different types of pills is not the most efficient way in which to kill oneself.

Hugo Strange: (Alarmed, but making an effort to remain calm) You aren’t planning to make another attempt, are you? The Top: No, no. I have far too much to live for-and besides, my fianceé would never forgive me if I killed myself, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: Your fianceé?

The Top: Yes. Her name is Lisa Snart, although you, Doctor Hugo Strange, are likely more familiar with her nom de guerre: the Golden Glider.

Hugo Strange: So, another one of the Rogues?

The Top: Yes. I met her while posing as an ice skating coach, and we have been deeply in love ever since, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: I see. How long have the two of you been romantically linked?

The Top: About seven years now, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: In other words, the relationship began shortly after your second attempted suicide?

The Top: I admit I was in a rather dark place at that point in my life, Doctor Hugo Strange. My beloved was responsible for helping to pull me out of it.

Hugo Strange: (Concerned) And what would happen if she died, or broke off your relationship?

The Top: That will not happen, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: But if it did?

The Top: (Agitated) I… I don’t know. She...she’s the only person who ever really loved me, Doctor Hugo Strange. The only one.

Hugo Strange: I’m concerned that you seem to be placing your mental stability and overall self-esteem so heavily on one relationship, Mr. Dillon. That cannot be healthy, for either one of you. (Pause) I know you don’t believe yourself to be mentally ill, but for Lisa’s sake, if nothing else, I really do think that it is urgent that we continue these sessions.

The Top: I would never do anything to hurt Lisa, Doctor Hugo Strange. Never!

Hugo Strange: In an earlier manic episode, you threatened to blow up half the world. That would have included your beloved Lisa, would it not?

The Top: I had not yet met Lisa when I came up with that scheme. If I had known her, I never would have endangered her in such a way, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: Maybe so, but that incident serves to prove that your judgement is compromised when you are in the midst of a manic episode. While I believe that you would never intentionally hurt Lisa, should you have another manic episode, you might cause harm to her without realizing it.

The Top: I...I suppose you may have a point, Doctor Hugo Strange. I will take your suggestion into consideration. I certainly do not wish to accidentally harm Lisa.

Hugo Strange: I’m glad to hear that, Mr. Dillon. (Pause) You are a metahuman, correct?

The Top: Do you think I am wearing this collar because it is fashionable, Doctor Hugo Strange?

Hugo Strange: A metahuman power dampener. Well, I suppose that answers that question. What powers do you possess, Mr. Dillon?

The Top: I have the ability to spin at superhuman speeds, I am telekinetic, and I have a limited degree of telepathy, Doctor Hugo Strange. I cannot read or outright control minds, but I can induce vertigo and push people into doing things that they otherwise might not be inclined to do.

Hugo Strange: I see. So, Mr. Dillon, what prompted you to put on a costume, call yourself the Top, and use your intellect and your not inconsiderable array of powers to commit crimes?

The Top: My father always told me that I needed to be a success; get on top of the world. I had to prove that I wasn’t the failure that everyone thought I was...and I did. No one laughs at Roscoe Dillon anymore, Doctor Hugo Strange.

Hugo Strange: Yes, yes...but why do it in a silly costume and with gimmicked tops?

The Top: I thought we already went over this. It’s because I like tops. They are fascinating. (Pause) Do you want to hear about my collection, Doctor Hugo Strange? There’s so much you could learn from it.

Hugo Strange: Perhaps some other time, Mr. Dillon. (Pause) And the Flash had nothing to do with your decision to put on the costume?

The Top: The Flash? You insult me, Doctor Hugo Strange. Why would I ever be inspired to do anything by someone like him?

Hugo Strange: Isn’t he your enemy?

The Top: Only because he constantly stands in the way of my achieving greatness. If he left me alone, I would not fight him….but as it is, he’s made things rather personal.

Hugo Strange: So the reason you have continued to commit crimes is in order to get revenge on the Flash?

The Top: Really, Doctor Hugo Strange, you must get your hearing problems checked out. I do not commit crimes to get revenge on the Flash. I commit crimes to make myself wealthy and to get revenge on the world. It rejected me; branded me as a freak. I simply rejected it in turn.

Hugo Strange: And has your life of crime made you happy, Mr. Dillon?

The Top: Not yet...but I am afraid, Doctor Hugo Strange, that it does not matter whether being a criminal makes me happy or not. It’s the only life that will ever accept someone like me. I learned that lesson long ago.

Hugo Strange: I stand by my initial assessment of you, Mr. Dillon. You need help. I just hope you will permit me to provide it.

#flash rogues #dr. hugo strange #the top #flash comics #batman comics #fanfic

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skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru · 3 years

Note

Gojo has his Six Eyes, which means he can see everything.

For most Jujutsu sorcerers, I doubt it's easy for them to have relationships with non-jujutsu sorcerers simply because the latter can't see curses. We see that with Nanami- that this can lead to situations that can be awkward, like with the curse on the bakery girl's shoulder.

We know that Gojo's ability can allow him to "see" hundreds of feet, if not over miles of land all at once by cursed energy alone- this was during the end of the exchange event where he noticed Shigemo had disappeared from within the barrier and he knew Hanami's exact position hadn't changed from when he "floated" above. Even blindfolded, his vision is similar to looking through high-resolution thermography.

I would imagine that Gojo doing the deed with someone who isn't a Jujutsu sorcerer would be incredibly difficult, especially when you're constantly sensing everything around you and noticing the curses nearby. He'd definitely have a hard time explaining his sudden need to leave because of a cursed spirit or simply because he doesn't sleep mucha and wants to dip.

We also know Gojo doesn't consume alcohol. While it's possible that Gojo is simply a light weight, alcohol affects a person's eyesight negatively and will impair your vision, even if only temporarily. Besides that, we don't witness Gojo express any other addictive behaviors like smoking or drugs.

I would argue that sex is another addiction, or addictive behavior, that people use when they're attempting to alleviate any negative feelings, memories, or stress. People who look to one night stands often use it as an escape from reality which, like alcohol and other vices, are inherently self destructive as it prevents the person from internalizing their emotions and acknowledging their fears and insecurities.

Again, we don't ever see Gojo act in a way that suggests he would turn to such things to run away from his problems. In fact, the only thing Gege suggests Gojo would be addicted to is sugar- and Gojo's intention for trying out sugar was the exact opposite of escaping reality. Gojo consumed sugar to stimulate his brain; he used it for the possibility of enhancing his mental capacity and produce clearer, more efficient logical thought. Stimulating his brain would mean allowing himself to deduce situations more efficiently and strategize at a much higher rate than before- Gojo wants to be aware of his surroundings as much as possible. He doesn't want to get distracted.

After all, it's not "We are the Strongest" anymore. It's "I am the Strongest," and now he's gotta pick up the slack as much as possible so no one ever experiences what he did in his youth.

Therefore, I doubt Gojo would lose himself to sleeping around with women. Really, sex is another distraction- it wouldn't stimulate his brain or strengthen his skills. It would be the same as drinking or doing dr*gs or smoking even, like Shoko does. Which, now that I think of it, Gojo is the Strongest, meaning he carries the most burden. He's got the most problems out of everyone.

Yet, he doesn't do any of the behaviors I mentioned above. Rather than running away, he commits to being as aware and present as he possibily can, taking on many missions while mentoring and supervising his students- It's just another way Gojo shows that he cares for his students much more than his antics let on, always planning their future for them, always taking steps to ensure their safety, and if necessary, he would definitely be willing to sacrifice himself for them - ��🤔

Yes, I do agree. Being with a non sorcerer is very risky because they could become a target. Remember what happened to Junpeii's mom? Yeah no. Gojo would never put the person he loves in that kind of danger, a world they don't know of.

And the fact he puts on blindfolds and sunglasses so that his eyes won't get tired...oh gosh I just imagined Gojo doing the deed with a non sorcerer and a curse just pops up, the person would probably so confused and never want to meet gojo again lol

It's really sad to think about all the things he went through and all that hes trying to do. Oh gosh it's just too much for one person to handle...and I can already feel gege plotting something that's going to destroy us....

#gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #skipps chat #gojo discussions #virgin or not?#🤔 anon

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theworldbrewery · 4 years

Text

what does it mean to play with a high (or low) stat?

fun fact: “commoners” (i.e., your average unskilled random) have a 10 in every ability score.

they are the average of the average. the most middle-of-the-road we can achieve. and they will never reflect your Player Character’s reality.

but they are a great baseline for determining where your characters are outstanding, and where they will struggle.

An average person can lift 50 lbs comfortably, has enough hand-eye coordination to play a decent game of ping-pong against an equally-matched opponent, can fight off most communicable diseases, knows how to read, can tell when they need more information to be able to act, and is able to handle basic social contact when there is no reason for conflict.

***note--I’m using these “averages” to talk about what a non-disabled and neurotypical person will be generally capable of without training or honing a particular skill. Being within 2-3 ability score points of the average doesn’t necessarily require justification, but it might still be fun to explore***

so your barbarian with an 18 in strength isn’t just an outlier, it’s a major difference from what Jane Ordinary can manage on a typical day, and the sweet-talking powers of your 20-charisma sorcerer are going to feel supernatural compared with what the traveling horse salesman is used to. When you’re creating a character, whether that’s an NPC with class levels or a player character, consider why a character’s stats are the way they are.

If they were naturally gifted, is that why they felt called to the class they chose? Did they work hard to be where they are today, and let other abilities fall by the wayside? Did a higher power imbue them with strength, charisma, or wisdom to make a perfect vessel for their plans? Reimagining the reasons behind your statistics can help develop your backstory and even factor into your character arc down the line.

***Another note: be especially self-aware if you’re going to play a neuroatypical, mentally ill, or disabled character and you aren’t yourself a member of the group you’re representing. I love representation but don’t be insensitive---and if anything I mention here comes off as insensitive, let me know and I’ll adjust accordingly!***

STRENGTH:

At first level, a higher-than-average STR score is going to reflect a lot of training, whether intentional or not. The character may have grown up chopping wood and hauling logs around a woodland village, spent their young adulthood in a mine, or studied with bodybuilders in a remote bodybuilder monastery.

In contrast, a lower-than-average STR score might correspond to a pampered lifestyle, one where the character never needed physical labor to get by; or perhaps they have a disability, such as a bad back, or a chronic illness that leaves their muscles weaker than usual.

DEXTERITY:

A character with a high DEX is flexible and fast. They might have been an acrobat in a circus, flipping around on the trapeze. An urchin whose two options are move fast or get arrested is also likely to be dextrous, as much as a noble who, as a child, often crept around and hid in their family estate to avoid lessons or spy on the adults. They might be from a tree-dwelling community where leaping across platforms is commonplace, or use their dexterity on the rigging of the ship they made their home. A very dextrous person might even have EDS or another condition that makes them hyper-flexible.

A low DEX might, like low STR, match with a disability like arthritis or an old leg injury that never healed properly, or it could align with pressure to behave properly in polite company--never running, climbing, or skulking around. Low DEX could also translate to clumsiness, a fear of taking physical risks, or a tremor that makes Sleight of Hand difficult.

CONSTITUTION:

High CON is a matter of resistance to illness, poison/drugs/alcohol, and general hardiness or stamina. A high CON character might take vitamins and supplements to keep their peak physical condition, do exercises to increase lung capacity or practice running to build endurance. They may take small doses of poison to build up immunity, or maybe they’ve been a low-grade alcoholic for so long their liver is adept at filtering out toxins. They might have done charity marathons to raise money for good causes back home.

Low CON might therefore translate to an arrhythmia or other chronic illnesses such as asthma, POTS, or even severe allergies. The low CON character could have been trapped in a sheltered upbringing that never exposed them to disease or required them to stand and move for hours. Maybe they have never been exposed to drink or drugs and are an incurable lightweight.

INTELLIGENCE:

A high-INT character may have spent years under the tutelage of scholars, worked hard to get into an educational institution, or learned history and magic from the elders of their community with the intent to carry the knowledge into the next generation. They may have autism that helps with information recall, ADHD that leads to hyperfocus on a few specific topics, or another form of neurodiversity.

A low-INT character may have never had the chance to learn from their uneducated family, or be so without a community that no one bothered to teach them. They might have a learning disability, memory problems, or chronic fatigue that causes brain fog.

WISDOM:

A high-WIS character is generally observant, able to assess the intentions of others, clear-headed, and pragmatic--or at least practical. High Wisdom may come from being taught from a young age to pay attention to one’s surroundings, be a part of a community’s religious or ethical worldview, or be a necessary skill developed for survival in a world full of hazards or underhanded strangers. High WIS scores can also derive from anxiety or trauma that make characters more sensitive to information and more likely to observe patterns that otherwise go unnoticed.

Low WIS characters might have very little life experience, or be naive because of the way they’ve been taught to view the world. They might have issues with visual or auditory processing that affect their perception, have low empathy that makes insight a struggle, or experience depression, psychosis, or paranoia that leads to difficulty assessing what is real.

CHARISMA:

High CHA characters may spend months or years mastering the performing arts, honing their ability to lie or stretch the truth, or practicing their most intimidating posture. Or their Charisma may stem from being completely genuine and trustworthy, without any apparent artifice. Characters with sociopathy may know how to turn any social encounter to their advantage, and those with high empathy may be simply likeable. A high-CHA character could be funny, attractive, talented, or have a magnetic personality for any number of reasons, including trying to impress a particular social group or person, a career goal as a comedian or performer, or being raised with rustic hospitality.

A low-CHA character may have trouble with eye contact or even be compulsively unable to lie (or a compulsive liar that’s simply unconvincing); they might have sensory issues that make them sensitive to music or certain vocal timbres, or they might be brusque and businesslike. Low Charisma can stem from a roughshod upbringing, a cultural emphasis on stark honesty even when unsolicited, or a lack of awareness for someone else’s perspective. Even a speech impediment or a trauma that leads to skittishness can read as low-Charisma if you want to play it that way (though it doesn’t have to be).

Sometimes, a character is in the middle-of-the-road but you still want to include one of the options mentioned above. In that case, they could have multiple “conflicting” influences in their background. A character with ADHD might be very good with a specific subject but the ADHD also manifests as memory issues, reflecting a 12 Intelligence score and its ambiguity (and proficiency in specific skills will reflect the specificity of hyperfocus, for instance).

None of these are hard-and-fast rules. If you want to play a character with chronic pain that doesn’t have a matching low score, that’s also amazing! But if you’re starting from the stats and want to figure out the “in-game justification” for why someone’s abilities are where they are, I hope this little outline helps.

If you like our posts, consider donating to our Ko-Fi @ theworldbrewery. We are saving up for Volo’s Guide to Monsters (and I’m kinda looking forward to trashing Volo’s opinions)

#dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #rpgs #character creation

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svynakee · 4 years

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mulan (2020) and chi, a mystical misrepresentation

Disney’s research on chi (气) suggests that early on they fang qi (放弃). Mulan live action makes me want to fang pi (放屁). Long explanation on my gripes with this cultural 'representation’ which ends up backfiring into making Chinese culture look bad, plus why including the ~exotic Asian mysticism~ of qi ruins Mulan (2020).

*Translations of the words below cut

Part 1: Crouching Representation, Hidden Insult

Firstly, the accepted pinyin is qi, so I have no idea why they’re using chi. I’m no expert on Chinese medicine or spirituality, but I did grow up watching wuxia and having a mother who insisted I change my diet to balance the heat/cold/dry. The concept of qi is not a mystical one to me. I associate it with action movies and aunties who believe in alternative medicine – superstitious, but in that familiar, domestic way. Part of my tradition. Part of my culture. Part of my life.

Qi is not a magical outside force. Qi is your own personal energy. In stories, while you can seal other people’s qi or damage it, it’s not like some life force in nature where you can tap into a flower’s qi to gain plant powers. Mastery of qi is akin to an Olympic athlete who hones their body and self-control to peak physical performance. While their abilities may seem superhuman, they are not divine or innately magical.

In a wuxia setting, people can train until they get enhanced reflexes, strength, senses, motor skills and possibly healing abilities. These are all ‘normal’ human abilities that have simply been pushed to unrealistic levels. Even walking/running on water, running up vertical slopes and ‘flying’ can be explained as being really fast or…jumping really, really far. Outrageous? Yes. But importantly, not magical. This is why a wuxia hero can still be freaked out by the supernatural. In a wuxia setting, using qi is normal and anyone can become the strongest qi user. Some use it for fighting, others to be doctors (enhanced senses + acupressure), or solve crime (there’s quite a few wuxia detective stories out there).

In xianxia, there are more fantasy elements. Those who hone qi are usually cultivators, who do so with the end goal of becoming immortal. This is not a unique trait; the setting often has several (sometimes even hundreds) of flying, super strong, immortal people who have some degree of fame. There can even be establishments that teach cultivation. Or multiple sects full of cultivators who have honed their skills in qi. Entire armies of people who can cast spells and telepathically control their sword. One could argue that immortality is just the mundane ability to remain healthy pushed to the extreme, but xianxia is where monsters and demons and gods roam about.

There are further differences between the genre, but I only want to point out their similarities concerning the concept of qi.

Everyone is born with qi. Nobody is born with the skills to utilise their qi. Qi must be honed through training, usually in a balanced manner (both physical strength and mental acuity, along with some spiritual growth). Even heroes who have parents with strong qi start off weak, because if you can’t use you qi then you’re just a normal person, because everyone has qi. Being born with unusually long legs and large lung capacity might make you a good sprinter, but you won’t go to the Olympics without training, even if both your parents are gold medallists. It takes self-discipline, a good coach and a mastery of your body to reach that potential.

This is one of my gripes against Disney’s idea of ‘chi’ in Mulan. The other one is-

Qi is not gender restricted. In fact, feminine qi is associated with yin, the black part of the yinyang symbol. Not a new concept. There have been female martial artists and heroes in Chinese works for a long time. I hate how Disney is taking a gender-neutral concept, one which already has a degree of progressiveness in Chinese culture and deciding that “chi is not for women” just to push their girl power moral. For a long time, wuxia has had women warriors. Women MASTERS. Yeah, not every kung fu master is an old man with a long white beard. There are female-only sects. There are badass female warriors who participate in hand-to-hand combat and rack up kills. They’re not regulated to being healers and archers and that one ‘Amazon warrior princess’ using a whip. Growing up, I saw more strong, heroic female warriors in Chinese media than Western when I watched action films.

This is my main problem with Disney’s horrendous cultural appropriation. Instead of properly representing the culture, instead of doing research, instead of just NOT GOING FOR EXOTIC ASIAN MYSTICISM, they actually make Chinese culture look worse than it is. To. Support. Feminism.

Part 2: The Chi-asy Way Out

In addition to butchering the core concept of the thing they’re appropriating, Mulan (2020)’s baffling inclusion of qi, whoops, chi makes the story worse overall. Mulan being born with strong chi makes her a master warrior from childhood. However, society doesn’t like it when women have chi, so she is shunned and her parents worry for her. As a soldier, though, chi powers make her an asset to the army, so she becomes respected. In the end she is a hero.

Oh, and remember when Disney said removing Mushu was because they wanted a more accurate adaptation of the original poem?

MULAN WAS A NORMAL PERSON AND NEVER FOUGHT ANY BIRD WITCHES.

The problem is that this means nothing Mulan accomplishes is due to her own actions. How is this an uplifting feminist story? This is the message: “If you’re a girl who fails to conform, you will be ostracized. Don’t worry though – so long as you’re born super special and strong, make the right heroic choices and use your strength for good, you will find acceptance!”

WHO. IS. THIS. EMPOWERING.

Isn’t this just another ‘not like other girls’ story? Mulan likes something that only boys are allowed to do, so men don’t like her, until she proves she’s better than them at that thing, so they accept her? That’s not feminism! Women don’t need to prove anything to be allowed to pursue their passions or feel proud of their identity. And they don’t need to be the best at something to be allowed to do it!

In Mulan (1998), she lacks the raw physical strength of the men. This actually makes sense – she’s the daughter of a wealthy family (hence the marriage arrangement, the nice estate) – so she’s weaker. This weakness leads to her getting bullied. Mulan realises she can’t succeed if she tries to match them in brute strength. She then uses her brains to succeed. There’s a brief training montage where she becomes stronger which admittedly doesn’t explain why she suddenly gets swole, but it’s reasonable that she was always capable to being as strong as the men and merely lacked their background of physical labour (even Po, as monks are expected to maintain their temple).

In Mulan (2020), she just stops hiding her superpowers. After a personal pep talk from her commander, which she gets…because he knew her war veteran father.

Ah yes, magic and nepotism, the inspiration that little girls need! Feminism!

It gets worse. Mulan’s chi not only allows her to excel in the army, but it leads to the main villainess/anti-villain to fixate on her. Xian is a witch, a woman who used chi but fell to darkness. Her goal is to make a world where, uh, women born with strong chi aren’t oppressed. She immediately recognises Mulan as a woman with chi and inexplicably gives her chi tips while in battle. She then repeatedly leads Mulan to each plot point, culminating in her sacrificing herself to save Mulan because she sees Mulan as the kind of person she wanted to be, but couldn’t due to oppression.

Chi is the reason why Mulan is a hero. Chi is how Mulan arrived on time to save the Emperor. Chi is why she is respected. Chi makes her special. Chi makes her a hero.

The addition of chi takes away so much of Mulan’s character growth, her struggles and subsequently her triumphs. Did she join the army for her father’s sake, or because she knew her only chance to succeed was on the battlefield, where chi is a powerful weapon? Is the emperor offering her a position on his staff out of respect for her abilities, or fear that shunning her will turn her into another Xian (who almost singlehandedly gave Bori Khan victory and ALSO was responsible for foiling his plans because her abuse led to her betrayal)? Even the love interest doesn’t befriend Mulan until she shows off her chi and beats him in combat.

Chi gave Mulan everything. And with this poor addition of ‘chi’, Disney took everything from Mulan.

气 - qi, ‘air’ 放弃 - give up 放屁 - fart

#mulan #mulan 2020 #mulan film 2020 #mulan live action #disney #fuck off the west already thinks china is backwards and needs enlightenment #mulan rant

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goldlighter · 3 years

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐄

realising the bsaa’s intentions with the coverup of the eveline incident and the subsequent deaths of the baker family were simply to hide the bsaa’s failing rather out of preventing any panic, chris ( already reckless ) behaviour continued on. it is no secret that the bsaa views him as expendable, despite being a co-founder and their most famous if not awarded member, but as the years have gone on the organisation has become involved with more and more politics, now being a full military force rather than the initial anti-biohazard teams. with more politics comes more corruption. chris may not be fully aware of the extent of it, but certainly after his experiences in 2012/2013, he is fully aware the organisation has lost sight of it’s original goal.

during the three year time span after the baker incident, chris began to follow less and less rules. notably passing letters from the winters to zoe baker despite her new identity and the winters being in protective custody, visiting the winter home and forming a personal relationship with both of them, taking personal control of the hound wolf squad, as well as accessing information he has long since been restricted from.

in my canon, chris’ abilities as a co-founder and top-level agent were becoming more and more restricted after the edonia and lanshiang incidents, being judged unfit for work due to his brain damage. whilst he is back in the field, he has grown more critical of the bsaa and in turn, has been punished more for it - especially as a well-loved and respected individual, many look to him for guidance and so he has to be made an example of.

already aware of the connections, particularly because of his history with umbrella and brandon bailey’s involvement in the african facility ( though he had long since been gone by the time tricell took over ), he has been conducting his own investigation into them, leading him to miranda. chris chose to take the hound squad with him on these investigations rather than any of his closest friends or ex-partners - unwilling to allow them to take the fall for any punishment that may occur or put them at risk, as well as the knowledge that if he takes every good and trusted person who is currently in the bsaa with him, there will be no one left to stop the rampant corruption growing.

unfortunately for chris, he has always been reckless and has acted before he thinks, particularly when those he cares about are involved. this, combined with the fact his brain damage has effected his mental capacities in a numerous amount of ways, resulted in the assault on the winters’ home. rather than explaining himself, or comforting ethan, he chose to keep the man in the dark out of fear that he may be infected ( ironically ) or being controlled by miranda. the plan was to bring rosemary and ethan to a secure location, have them tested, and then explain the truth - though obviously that did not happen. the run-in with ethan at the reservoir also suffered, as he was not able to be certain that it wasn’t miranda and not ethan, yet he still attempted to protect the man.

after rescuing mia, who he had assumed would be terminated after she was no longer useful, chris is finally aware of her involvement with the connections and miranda - prior to this, he had his own suspicions, but was not truly aware as he was not the one to conduct the interviews with her and i don’t believe mia would have confessed to him ( instead quietly leaving out why she was on the ship or her relationship with eveline ).

in the events where ethan sacrifices himself, chris has kept his promise to ethan and helped raise rosemary - legally adopting her ( making her rosemary winters-redfield ) both so she has a father, but also due to the protections offered to her as the adopted daughter of a bsaa founder ( regardless of whether or not chris stays with them, they are less likely to treat her like an experiment if their boss if her dad ) as well as the knowledge that mia is technically a bio-terrorist and criminal, and should she be imprisoned for that, rose would still have a parent.

in events where ethan survives, obviously, this is not the case, but he will still be a part of rosemary’s life, the same to his involvement with the burton daughters ( which in my headcanon, since barry is a surrogate father figure to the redfields, chris was named as their godfather ).

chris is still technically with the bsaa, but much like in the raccoon city days where he was doing his own investigation and left to europe alone ( and again, during jills “death” where he was going against orders, taking on mission after mission in pursuit of finding a dead woman ) he is mostly doing his own thing - chris has been on thin ice with the bsaa for a long time and eventually will have to face the consequences of this.

#games been out long enough i can post this #im TRYING to be active here but i have brainrot #anyway people who think chris would allow rose to be captive/experimented on/used are stupid as fuck and clearly know fuck all abt chris #► 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃: headcanon.

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stormyweaver · 3 years

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Borrowed Time || Chp. 1

So my latest hyperfixation has been this show on Netflix called ‘Swee/t Home’. It’s a live-action South Korean adaption of a webtoon comic, and seriously if you’ve never heard of it before, at least watch the first episode. If you aren’t hooked, gosh, I don’t know what could make a person want more! But you don’t have to have seen the show to enjoy this I think, but again I’d highly reccommend checking the series out. I adore every single character and I’ll probably be writing more about them all, but for now I’m focusing on Pyeon San/g-wook because h-he’s my fave... He’s basically a mysterious drifter who dolls out justice in his own badass way, and he’s amazing and a super complex character.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR EPISODE FIVE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED:

This is after Sang-wook kills the pedophile he was hired to find, and then drags his body outside while bringing two other victims who had died to a monster inside the apartment building. It was pouring raining and my brain instantly went: how can you have a out-in-the-rain scene without sickness? BLASPHEMY! Anyway hope y’all enjoy!

The timing might have been slightly comical if he didn't have a splitting headache. Or, was it a concussion? That... nurse had mentioned something similar, but he truly hadn't paid her any mind. Why would he give someone so prying the time of day in the first place? He hated being touched without his permission, no matter the reason; maybe she had simply been trying to help, but there was absolutely no way in hell he was going to let her continue treating him as if he was some weakling.

No, he only... felt weak, due to all of the stress. He would bounce back eventually - he inevitably did. Though he could never fully comprehend why, his body had an uncanny ability to heal faster than most, and bestowed him with a strength that most people only ever imagined themselves possessing. It had served him well over the years, made him capable of surviving on his own for as long as he'd needed to, aided him in carrying out the tasks others simply didn't have the stomach for. It had of course, had it's downsides - there were injuries and ailments he simply couldn't knock in a matter of hours, and those instances where he'd been forced to finally allow his body to rest were intensely irritating.

A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as he staggered through the dirtied hallway and, sensing that he was finally alone, allowed himself to lean bodily against a flyer-littered wall. His breath was coming in short, harsh pants, almost bordering on wheezing, though his teeth instantly grit at the idea. He wasn't weak-- damn it, if Jae-heon had just left him out there to die, he wouldn't be feeling like utter, completely useless shit right now. The zealot likely loathed him just like the rest, if not fear then at the very least an intense dislike. Only his 'vows' or whatever meaningless word of God had made him keep the gate open. He swallowed- or rather, made an attempt to, and was unsurprised to find that the action was mildly painful. Pair that was the throbbing near his sinuses, the malaise, and the general feeling of being lethargic, it wouldn't take a medical professional to inform him that he was unwell. What was that old saying? Something about only fools catching a chill from standing out in the rain? Nonsense. But... well, he wasn't about to start pondering old proverbs with a pounding headache. At least he wasn't getting a nose bleed. Just a stuffy one. It took Sang-wook longer than he would have preferred to stand up straight again and continue limping down the walkway, but eventually he did, coming to a stop on the corner of a vacant room. He could practically hear his limbs creak as he perched himself on the edge of a step, and one hand automatically slipped into his jacket pocket. Some habits were harder to break than others. And if ever there a time he truly needed a smoke... With the lit cigarette between his lips, he began to ponder what his next move would be. He had technically finished his business there; no other reason to remain other than the fact that fucking monsters were roaming the city. Of all the positively inconvenient bullshit - monsters. Not that he had any real plans after taking care of matters. He never did. Being a drifter meant not making attachments, not allowing himself to get roped into anything unless it was related to his main task. And yet there he was, with an apartment full of people who either saw him as a thug or a threat or, for some irritatingly insane reason, a person to be pardoned. A laughable concept at best. He didn't even want to be pardoned - he didn't regret the things he had done, to begin with. And wasn't that one of the key steps to getting into heaven? Being repentant for your sins? Well, that was already one big strike against him. Just how did that damned nosey priest expect him to continue on, then? Why had he been so adamant about "saving" him? Why? A trail of smoke filtered past his nostrils, nose absently wrinkling as the thoughts only served to frustrate him all the more. What the hell was he going to do... He brought the stick to his lips again, but his breath caught pre-inhale, mouth forming a deeper frown than normal. A small pin-prick had been stinging the back of his nose ever since he'd woken up, but so far he'd been able to ignore it. Until now. He sniffed harshly, once, twice and, thinking that was that, but the moment he closed his lips around the cigarette, he inhaled harshly through his nose. "hH'KGSHHh!" The sneeze jerked his head down sharply, though he managed to keep it relatively quiet. The last thing he needed was some passerby hearing and having the guts to try and approach him. Though containing it hadn't done his headache any favors, and his teeth had nearly snapped the cigarette in half. Hell, he couldn't even smoke in peace. What was the point of still being alive, again? "You shouldn't be smoking," Ah, there it was. Sang-wook didn't need to glance up in order to place the voice - he could smell the self-righteousness from a mile away. Or, he would have, had he been able to smell anything at the moment.

Resisting the urge to sniffle, he made no attempt at offering even a semblance of acknowledgement towards the other. Not that it would stop him from poking his nose where it didn't belong, so it came as no surprise when Jae-heon stood directly in front of him, gradually lowering himself until he was seated similarly to the other with a soft grunt. Sighing, Sang-wook plucked the useless cigarette from his lips and tossed it to the floor, swiftly crunching it beneath his boot. "I'm not,"

Jae-heon hummed in acknowledgement. "I don't say it to judge," Sang-wook wasn't sure why he felt the need to clarify, but his gaze did flit over to the other's general direction for a moment. He could see the glint his blade gave off out of the corner of his eye. Curious. Although he didn't doubt the other's skill, he just didn't see a point in taking it with him everywhere. But that was ultimately his choice, and he didn't have the mental capacity to bother pondering why he did so. "How are you feeling?" The scarred man barely lifted his eyes to Jae-heon, who gestured with his chin towards the direction Sang-wook had originally walked from. "Yu-ri took a look at your head injury, right? Is it serious?"

The only response he gave was a meager shrug. Sang-wook wouldn't willingly give information about how he was feeling when it didn't matter in the long run. Whether he was fine or slowly bleeding out, what difference would it make? You shouldn't be alive in the first place; why does he care? God, thinking made his head throb. Couldn't he just be alone in this god forsaken complex for more than a solid minute?

He heard Jae-heon sigh, noted him shift slightly, but still kept his gaze glued to the floor. "What you did... I can't agree with your actions," Sang-wook almost scoffed aloud. Was he really expected to listen to a lecture about right and wrong? His attention was already split, anyway. The itch sparked in his sinuses still burned, not having been satisfied with the weak excuse for a sneeze, and every facial muscle was tensed as he worked to smother the sensation into submission. At least he always happened to look stoic, so he doubted the other would notice. Still, hearing Jae-heon gear up for a sermon of sorts didn't bode well for his waning resolve. "But I do understand why you did what you did. The others might not - they might still see you as something that you're not-" "What would you know about what I am?" Sang-wook interjected sharply, a scowl evident on his features. Admittedly, it hurt to talk, and he internally cringed at the trace of hoarseness in his voice. But he didn't like anyone thinking of him as some misunderstood wretch worthy of some kind of redemption. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't a villain, not good or evil - he simply was, and he never needed to be more or less than that, didn't need to satisfy anyone's opinion of him. Jae-heon glanced down momentarily, looking as if he were trying to gather his thoughts. Speaking could come as easily as breathing at certain times, and yet there were moments were every point of diction managed to fail him. "I'm not here to pity you. And I wouldn't claim to understand you. Every person has their reasons for what they do - and every person has to stand with those reasons before the almighty. I'm not here to judge," The scarred skin beneath Sang-wook's eye jumped slightly. "Then what are you here to do? Whatever it is, you're wasting your..." He had to pause, throat constricting momentarily before he sighed unevenly through his nose, "... breath. You should be more concerned about yourself," Jae-heon couldn't help but quirk a miniscule smile at that. "That isn't God's way. Besides, I wouldn't still be alive if I had decided to be selfish," His thoughts shifted to Hyun-su, Mr. Han, Ms. Im and Ji-su - he had all of them to thank for his life, for making it this far. People who, while they may not have shared the same faith as himself, had believed that sticking together and looking after each other was the way to survive - was the right path. No matter their differences, they chose to be selfless, and that was what had led them to finding the other survivors. Sang-wook didn't reply, mainly due to the fact that he wasn't sure he could safely do so without breaking his concentration. Though it didn't matter - Jae-heon continued anyway. "You didn't have to bring back Min-Ju and Su-ung. I won't ask you why, because to me, what matters is that you did. That means something," When Sang-wook didn't respond again, Jae-heon opened his mouth to continue, only to be silenced when the other opposite him took in a sharp inhale and twisted off to the side. "hH'GKxnt! h'HCHGnt!" Jae-heon blinked for a moment, not really startled by the sneezes but seeming to examine Sang-wook with a little more scrutiny, to which the the other flashed him a glare. Unfazed, he continued to gaze at the other. "You look pale. You should be resting," Sang-wook simply scoffed, cringing at the phlegm lining his throat. He desperately needed to sniff back the moisture threatening to breach his nostrils, but his pride held the action back as Jae-heon continued to press the issue. "You're up and about after having passed out - and you were in the rain for a good while. You might be getting sick," And if he was? What the hell did it matter? Sang-wook wanted to press both heels of his palms against his eyes and grind until the pressure behind them lessened at least a little. He was exhausted, and fatigue suddenly swept over him like the storm clouds still raging outside. Everything felt heavy and sluggish which, for someone with normally such sharp senses, was more than off-putting. It felt wrong. He felt wrong. Why was the good Christian wasting time worrying about whether or not he was ill when there were literal monsters still roaming the apartment? As if sensing his turmoil, Jae-heon finally moved to stand back up, katana blade resting by his side. "You should go see Yu-ri - at the very least she can give you something for your head," He began to turn away, paused, then uttered something that made the skin on the back of Song-wook's neck prickle uncomfortably.

"Take care of yourself," Jae-heon’s retreating footsteps seemed to echo unusually loud, and it wasn't until he could no longer hear them any longer that Sang-wook finally indulged in a thick, pitiful sniffle and allowed his head to drop into his waiting hands.

#greywrites;#shweet home;#still working on part two but i make no promises lol #unless... heh #borrowed time || part 1

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