krafciatko

[theartofquirk]

How a Mild Head Injury Can Cause Long-Term Cognitive Issues

Let's dive into a surprising topic that hardly anyone talks about. You know those memory issues and executive functioning problems you’ve been experiencing? Maybe you’ve even wondered about ADHD... Well, what if I told you they might be linked to a head injury from your past?

Connecting the Dots: My Unexpected Journey

You might think a head injury big enough to cause such problems would be pretty memorable, right? Well, let me share my story to show how this connection can be missed for years.

Back in the day, I was a bright student, always at the top of my class. But as my exams approached, something strange started happening to my brain. I began experiencing difficulties I couldn't explain. Concentration issues, memory issues, zoning out, depression, severe fatigue, times when my brain just “went offline”. Despite my struggles, I passed most of my exams, but my life became a rollercoaster of success and failure.

Eventually, I was diagnosed with ME, ADHD, and bipolar disorder. I thought I was just genetically unlucky, stuck with a bad hand of cards. But then, last year, I stumbled on some information that changed everything. I discovered that all these conditions can be triggered by even a mild head injury.

Suddenly, it all made sense. I remembered a blow to the head I had right around the time I began struggling. Could that seemingly minor incident have set off a chain reaction that led to my diagnoses? It was a revelation that connected the dots in a way I never imagined.

The Emotional Rollercoaster

The struggles overshadowed my life. Praised for my intelligence and told I would go far, my self-esteem plummeted as I failed to meet expectations. Starting my A-level studies, I was on track to study medicine, but I barely scraped through my exams. It was frustrating because I knew my intelligence was still there; I just couldn't use my brain properly. This worsened my ME and depression, and so chronic pain became a daily burden.

Realising that all my struggles likely stemmed from that split-second head injury was a lightbulb moment. It gave me an explanation and freed me from the guilt of "not trying hard enough." Not living up to my potential and making my parents proud weighed heavily on me. But now, I see it wasn't a character flaw—it was trauma that had disrupted my neurons enough to change my life.

Unmasking the Hidden Effects of Mild TBI

Did you know that even a mild traumatic brain injury (TBI) can have long-term effects on cognition? It's wild, but even a minor blow to the head can cause significant issues with memory, attention, and executive function. For someone going through this, it might mean forgetting important dates or tasks, struggling to focus on work or studies, and finding it hard to plan or organize daily activities. These cognitive difficulties can stick around for months or even years, leaving people feeling frustrated and confused about their mental fog and reduced efficiency.

Living with the long-term effects of a mild TBI can make everyday life a constant challenge. You might find yourself unable to multitask like you used to or needing more time to complete simple tasks. Social interactions can also become tough, as keeping up with conversations or remembering names and details gets harder. This can lead to feelings of isolation and anxiety since the invisible nature of these cognitive struggles makes it hard for others to grasp what you're going through.

Looking Back: Could a Childhood Injury Be the Cause?

Think back to your childhood. Do you remember ever having a head injury or a bump, even if it wasn't severe enough to be treated in the hospital? My own injury occurred during cheerleading when I fell off someone's shoulders and hit the floor. But for you it could have been a fall off your bike, a sports injury, or even a playful accident that seemed harmless at the time.

Try to recall if your symptoms have always been present or if, like me, they started around that time. It's important to note that it can take up to 18 months for symptoms of a mild TBI to fully manifest. So, what might have seemed like a small incident could actually be the root cause of ongoing issues you're experiencing now.

Don't Go It Alone: Seeking Professional Help

Lastly, checking in with your doctor is always a good idea. They can help you explore the connection between your symptoms and any past head injuries and may offer further support or treatments. It's never too late to seek help and find ways to improve your quality of life.

Connect with Our Community

If this resonates with you, join our Facebook group! It's a chill space where we share stories, tips, and support each other. Click the link and come hang out with us. We'd love to have you!

If you think you’re dealing with something similar, don’t worry—I’ve got you covered! I have tons of tips and advice to help ease the long-term effects of TBI. From memory tricks to managing executive function struggles, I’ve been through it all and found ways to make life a bit easier. Stick around, and I’ll share what I’ve learned to help take some of the pain out of your journey.

Did this post give you any "aha" moments? I'd love to hear about it! Leave your thoughts in the comments below. Sharing your experiences and insights can help others on their journey too. Let's get the conversation started!

[sassysnowperson]

When I was a kid - old enough to remember, young enough that I don't know how old I was anymore - I started telling myself a story. It was a good story, full of grand adventure that made me feel clever and strong and surprising and fun as I told it. And at the same time, I remember thinking...I should stop. There are other things I need to be thinking about. There's homework and chores and all the other life things I need to do. The story is getting in the way. And I'm not really telling anyone about it. It's lonely.

I tried to stop. I did, sometimes. But no matter what I was doing, I kept going back to the story. I told it and retold it, in my head, chasing the feeling it gave me. The story shifted, through the months and years, was joined by another few epics. It was interesting and creative, but still it wasn't entirely in my control. I'd feel - frustrated, sometimes. "If I hadn't started telling myself this story...Imagine what I could be, if I didn't keep thinking about this."

There's two important things I think about now, when I think about then. The first comes in 2016. I'm realizing viscerally how fucked and fucked up the world is. I feel like I can't control anything. So, I tell myself a story. And this time I share it. I write a million words of fic over the next four years. It helps me find connection. It helps me survive.

The second thing is that I got diagnosed with ADHD on Monday.

[shootingstarwritings]

Hans Off the Computer!

The human mind, when boiled down to its most fundamental building blocks, was simply a system of ON and OFF switches. In that sense, it is functionally identical to that of a computer’s mainframe. When putting both of those thoughts together, the idea that the human brain can be completely digitized and transferred through networks isn’t too far-fetched an idea.

At the very least, that was the thought of Hans Hopper, a freelance software engineer. Currently, he was working at a computer repair shop to get some extra money and to kill time between projects—including his own.

“It could be possible,” he voiced his dreams to his boss, Carl, as they took a look at some guy’s gaming PC. The components were state of the art, some not even out in the market yet. Just the graphic card and motherboard made Hans drool at the sight. Streamers get all the luck, he thought. The owner, some small-name star with a big ego, took poor care of his machine, leading to landing on Carl's shop.

“Y’know, Hopper,” Carl began as he cleaned some dust off of the PC’s parts, “I think if you put that head of yours outta the clouds and into reality with the rest o’ us, you’d really take off. Least you wouldn’t be stuck in this freelancing business and get a real job like some o’ your peers.”

“And be like those corporate suck-ups?” Hans snorted. “As if. I’m not gonna be another cog in the machine. Now being in a machine." He grinned, already fantasizing about the things he'd do if he could ditch his flawed, physical form for a future full of infinite potential inside of a network. "That's what I'm after."

“Least those corporate suck-ups can afford their own places,” Carl sighed. “You’re still living with roommates at, what, 30?”

“...27, actually.”

Grinning, Carl said, “And there’s my point. At your age, Hans, I--” he paused as his phone began to ring with an irritatingly catchy tune. “Aw, shit. Lost track of time.” Before Carl ducked to the back of the store and towards the hall that led to his home, he glanced back and said, “Can you wrap up here and close the store, Hans?”

“You got it, boss," Hans said, waving him off. "Take care." Carl left without an answer, and Hans found himself alone with a PC he could only dream of. "Well well," he said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a flash drive. "Looks like it's just you and me from now on. Let's see if what's under the hood's enough to get my program running."

While Carl had a point that Hans' dream was beyond the capacity of current human technology, the world of sci-fi and fantasy lacked such rules. "Just like that ol' title," he muttered to himself as he inserted the flash drive into a USB drive. "A machine can't act like a human mind, but it can calculate runes with no trouble. Sometimes when we can’t use tech to get somewhere, we gotta use shortcuts.”

This PC was his best chance to experiment on his little program to see if it worked. After checking to make sure the drives were all up to date and the whole thing was running smoothly, Hans executed his program. A few keystrokes later, a magic circle formed on the screen. “Let’s gooo—WOAH!”

Although Hans should have figured that the ritual wouldn’t be painless, having his physical form ripped apart and turned into data was nothing short of excruciating. Reforming himself later wouldn’t be any less unpleasant, but he could never turn down the chance to become data and revolutionize the field of… magic? Science? Magitek?

He witnessed his fingers slowly fade as if turning into dust and flow like a stream of water into the screen. As the entirety of his arms completely disappeared, sprites that resembled arms appeared on the screen. "L-Least it works?" Hans nervously said as more and more of his body faded away.

Eventually, Hans' ability to feel, taste, hear, and see waned as his body fully waxed into the computer. The sensation… was nothing. There were no nerves or sensors to feel with, but he could understand the data that his mind had access to. Overwhelming, yet the sensation felt like precious wine on his lips.

The network… Though small, Hans was amazed at how he could travel through the network of the shop—including Carl’s personal PC.

“No, no,” Hans realized he could hear. He saw Carl through the uncovered camera and heard him through a microphone that remained plugged in. For a tech-savvy guy, Carl was real lenient in terms of privacy. "C'mon, Elise, be reasonable here. We got a meeting with the divorce lawyer tomorrow. Can’t you have your little wine party another day?” Carl rolled his eyes as he pocketed his phone. “Fuckin’ bitch. Can’t give me a break.”

And now, as Carl sat down to work on his computer, Hans realized he could attempt the other upside of the ritual. With his mind now data, he could reach out and override the "data" that was another's consciousness.

“What the hell am I supposed to—MMGPHF!”

It wasn’t the most graceful exit, but Hans couldn’t deny the results. Black tendrils—an unnatural amalgamation of data and flesh flew from the screen and landed on Carl’s face, causing him to fly back a few inches. His body twitched and convulsed, back forming a C,  as Hans’ essence flowed into each of Carl’s orifices. Carl’s feet kicked at the ground, fingers gripping his chair’s armrests, as Hans’ essence attacked and invaded his brain.

“A-Ah, ahhh.” Carl helplessly moaned as Hans override any freedom and control over his body. After a few painful seconds with his back arched and his toes curling as the sensation of being overtaken overwhelmed him, Hans awoke in his boss’ body.

“Well, well,” said Hans, feeling his new arms. “Not exactly my first choice for a body, but not a bad test drive.” He stretched in the comfortable office chair, a gift from another customer. “Man, Carl, for an old guy you don’t feel half-bad.” Now realizing that he was alone, a mischievous thought crossed Hans’ mind. “Well, got some time to keep doing some more research on my little program. Maybe I can find a way to hack into other networks." Grinning to himself, he stood up and slowly stripped out of Carl's clothes. First, the shirt came off as the nipples hardened in the cool air, then the shoes were chucked to the side to allow his feet to breathe. The pants came off next, and finally, the underwear flew across the room as Hans embraced his newfound potential—and his borrowed pole.

“Who knew old farts like you still had crazy stamina like this!” Hans cried out, furiously and desperately thrusting into his grip as he jacked off his boss’ body. “F-Fuck! Fuuuuuck!” Hans let out a roar as he came all over his boss’ keyboard. “W-Woah. Gonna have to clean that up later. Dunno where he keeps his tissues, but...” Hans paused and grinned once more. This wasn’t his body, so what the hell? He bent down and began to lick the keys clean, making sure to savor his boss’ taste with each slurp.

The next day, he sat in his boss' room, giving another client's laptop a check-up. It was a Sunday and so the shop was closed, but Hans' mind was far too wired to relax by simply lying around the place. No, tinkering around and keeping his hands busy was how he would wind down.

Although, Hans remained without any clothes. The feeling of the chair against his naked skin was intoxicating. Never in his life had Hans worked in the nude, but he might have to start doing it more often as he tried on new skins. For now, though, might as well enjoy Carl’s life for a few more hours before trying on someone new.

Hans’ roommates were certainly appealing prospects.

[sweetestlamb]

Unexpected

Summary: Accidental relationships are the worst. 

Author's note: A silly little drabble(it's like 5k so idk if it's a drabble lol) I created based on an image @prodmina made for me, this is not related to BMTL at all-it's just a side dish I'm offering to my Junjin lovers. A few days ago we both noticed that these two don't really get much fluff without some angst(I'm guilty of this too so no judgement just an observation) Hence this was created, it's just a one-shot because this idea wouldn't leave my mind. This community is well fed but here's some more food for the hungry. And yes my page break this time is Sujin's sexy leg, I have no regrets.

They've been in the same school for as long as she can remember, her striving to be the best student only second to one and him seemingly showing up to drool on the nearest surface and give the female population heart palpitations. She's thankfully not one of his victims- having actual standards and a fully functional hippocampus; ergo while most girls are drawing hearts on their notebooks with Han Seojun opposite their name, she is turning her nose up at them judging them for their lack of foresight.  A pretty face would only last for so long. 

They stay out of each other's way, the only thing they have in common is Lee Suho- her childhood friend of many years and his best friends despite their varied differences. She and Suho haven't been spending much time together ever since she moved out with her mother, but he was still one of her oldest friend and someone she cared about. Long story short, they both spent years imprisoned with a monster and now they were free.

Her life was looking brighter, more technicolor and staying away from a thug like Han Seojun was only adding to its quality. 

Which is why she's dumbfounded when they run into each other, at the most inopportune of time. She's walking home after her academy classes, being a pediatrician isn't going to be child's play and she has to take every possible advantage to make her dreams a reality. Without her father’s money backing her she has to accomplish this with her own merits, she is looking forward to proving him wrong. 

Airpods in, she doesn't notice the group stalking her until it's too late. One by one they begin to surround her, leering at her body like she's a piece of meat on display- it makes the hairs on the nape of her neck raise in trepidation and disgust.  

"Isn't it too late for a pretty girl like you to be wandering all alone outside?" The one she assumes is the leader croons, voice dripping in faux concern as he rubs his hands resembling a villian out of a 1940′s comic book. 

She immediately begins to catalog how many of them there are, strategizing the best way to take them down. Fifteen of them. She can't fight them all, the best she can do is distract a few and make a run for it. 

"Isn't it too early for vermin like you to be wandering the streets?" She replies snidely, rolling her eyes when they all whistle at her jab. This is such a pathetic end to her day, it's honestly beneath her. 

"I'll make you regret that comment, you bitch!" Already with the name calling, this guy really was a cartoon villian and he couldn't even construct something creative to call her. instead choosing the most generic insult in the book. With a sigh she moves into a fighting position, fists raised guarding her face and legs apart. 

"Let's just get this over with, you're sucking up all the air with that snout you call a nose." All she sees is his sneer and eyes huge in rage before he lunges at her, his movements are so predictable and she sidesteps kicking at the back of his knee swiftly. Then she grabs another arm that comes flying at her face cruelly twisting and flipping him over her body, his groan of pain music to her ears. She easily taking them out without breaking much of a sweat, she had been fighting since she was young and they were all clearly not trained fighters, just bumbling idiots playing gangster. 

But then she hears the cold metallic click of a knife uncoiling. A shiver races down her spine. They really were low-lives, she hadn’t expected them to actually pull out a weapon. 

"You need a knife to take on one girl? Can you even call yourself a gang?" The words are exactly the ones that are in her brain but she's not the one who utters them, a new voice has entered the fray. A familiar voice at that. 

This day just keeps getting worst.

"Han Seojun, how about you mind your business we found her first she's ou--" 

The rodent looking asshole never gets to finish his sentence as her leg comes flying at his face as she executes a perfect roundhouse kick, slicing through the air and landing devastating blow on his cheek sending him flying to the ground in a heap. 

"Damn Sujin! And you call me a thug! I think you killed him." Seojun cries sputtering in disbelief motioning at the motionless body on the ground but she notes the impressed raise of his eyebrow. Like she needs him approval.

While the rest of the band of idiots are helping up their leader she realizes this is her chance, without a word to Seojun she takes off running. Easily jumping over one of her fallen attackers and stepping on his shoulder for momentum, he cries at her harsh treatment.

Turning back she sees Seojun deck a guy in the face knocking him out before he starts chasing after her, his long legs eating up the gap between them in no time, she's temporarily grateful that he's not the one chasing her the damn beanpole. 

"Are you secretly a ninja or something?" She snorts at his terrified face, chucking when he keeps looking waiting for an answer as if he truly believes she might be. Nosy idiot.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." She answers straight faced, watching as horror blossoms on his face and her musical laughter saturates the streets as she runs faster, he shakes his head at her smirking in reply. 

It's the beginning of the end, but she had no idea. 

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Somehow it becomes the catalyst they need to break the seal between them, she expects everything to go back to its rightful place- them ignoring the other’s presence as they've always done and only speaking when they had something rude to say, their normal. But as she's walking in the hallway she hears him shouting her name behind her, immediately all eyes in the hallway dart to them. 

"Kang Sujin! Yah! I'm talking to you!" He garners the attention of everyone in the vicinity and she turns around, annoyance purposely all over her face.  He needs to know that she is not amused with him. 

"Yeah, people across town can hear you. What do you want?" 

"Are you calling me loud?" He cries defiantly, obnoxiously even louder than before. The smirk on his face letting her know that it’s intentional, she aches to kick it off his face. 

"Is the sky blue?" She sarcastically responds, waiting for him to catch up as they walk side by side. 

"A better analogy to use would be is Han Seojun handsome?" She gags as he starts posing with a finger under his chin, in the distance she can hear high pitched squeals of his name.

She picks up her pace, regretting even giving him a moment of her time. She must have lost her mind for a moment, it wouldn’t happen again. 

"No wonder you're single. Who could compete with your love for yourself? I have something to do so I'll leave first." She doesn't wait for his response, leaving to do nothing but that's none of his business. 

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But it doesn't end there, they just keep orbiting into each other. Their groups converging at lunch and when the boys are having a heated argument about who's the best character on Dragon Ball Z, they both passionately shout out "Vegeta!!" In unison making everyone turn to face them in shock that they've agreed on something. They stare at each other as flabbergasted before Seojun pushes his hand out, palm flat and expectant look on his face. 

She simply stares back blankly, considering leaving him hanging just to see that stupid offended look he always gets around her but in the end she slaps her hand firmly against his, at least he was smart enough to know that Saiyan prince was the best.

Clap!

"Someone mark it on a calendar! Seojun and Sujin agreed on something!" Su-ah exclaims clapping her hands and smiling brightly, they both argue when several members at the table pull out their phones to commemorate the special occasion. She wrestles with Jukyeong, who's surprisingly strong and breaks free from her hold while sticking her tongue out.

"You're all so annoying!" They both explode again simultaneously, Seojun hanging off Chorong's arm as he tries to confiscate his phone, she glares at him for giving them another reason to laugh at them and Su-ah cheerily calls out, "Add that to the calendar too, they're so in sync!"

It's the worst lunch of her life, she kicks Seojun under the table. This was all his fault. Glaring when he kicks her back and they end up kicking each other until the period ends, oblivious to the stares around them. 

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At the end of the day she's eager to go home and do nothing, which is exactly when she feels someone tugging at her backpack forcefully dragging her backwards. 

"Yah! Let go of me!" She cries out, slipping her arms out of her bag and turning around in a fighting position. 

"At ease super soldier, it's just me." He replies as if that means anything, but she does lower her fists; marginally. To let him know she's ready to go at any minute.

"What do you want now?" She grumbles peering up at him and when he turns walking away with her backpack still in his arms, she chases after for that reason alone. 

"I'm going to the arcade. They have the new Dragon Ball Z game." 

She should go home and study, she promised herself she would review her notes from class today. She couldn't afford to slack off if she wanted a good life after all. 

She opens her lips to say all of this, to remind him that they can't all be pretty boy models like him some of them actually had to work for a living but instead she hears, "Fine. You're buying me something to eat." 

He begrudgingly agrees after complaining, "Aren't you rich? Why do I have to buy you food?" She skips off ignoring his rationale, only stopping when she sees his motorcycle parked in the lot. She's always wanted to ride a motorcycle. 

"Let's take your bike." She says confidently, not leaving him any room to refuse. 

He looks at her unimpressed before a cheeky smile spreads across his face, "You've always wanted to ride with me huh? Do you have dreams about it at night?" He teases her and she lazily watches him before walking up to him, looking directly into his eyes. He unconsciously takes a step back and she smirks, stepping closer again. 

" Are you nervous? Scared I might really be having dreams about you?" She watches his Adam's apple bob apprehensively before smacking him quickly on his cheek, he jolts in surprise. 

"You wish pretty boy. Now get the keys, I don't have all day." 

He gulps before snapping back to reality, wordlessly starting his bike. 

The entire school watches as they ride off together, her arms wrapped tight around his waist the wind whipping through her hair. She's never felt anything so exhilarating. 

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Their lives become entangled, it's the only way to describe it somewhat accurately. She goes to his house for weekly dinners and sometimes her mom comes too, his mom is a great cook while hers can barely boil water. It's a win-win scenario. They also study together, his grades aren't horrific but they could be better. There isn't much ceremony, he stomps over telling some boy he needs that seat and she watches as the poor kid scrambles, grabbing all his book and running away apologizing the entire way. 

"You have good grades right?" He says matter-of-fact less of a question and more of a statement before he pulls out actual textbooks from his bag. She rolls her eyes before nodding and turning back to her own studies. They study every Tuesday and Wednesday, he's always on time and treats her to tteokbokki. so she allows this transgression. 

She knows immediately why he asked for help when she sees his math test magnetized to his refrigerator door, big red A- circled. His mother brags about his score all throughout dinner, even cheering for her when Seojun informs her that she got an A+ on the same assignment. They both blush as she gushes about how smart they are. 

When the nightmares get too realistic and she can’t handle it alone anymore, he drops her off to therapy sessions and brings her to the gym after so she can release all her anger on a punching bag. He never asks her what's wrong but he drops her home after and the silence is comfortable between them. 

They both never mention their dads but she goes to the cemetery with him and stands quietly as he pays his respect and takes him to get ice cream after, the dinner with his family after is somber but she wouldn't rather be anywhere else. 

They never discuss what exactly is going on between them, they're just there for each other and that's enough. 

At least she thought it was. 

It's stupid but ever since they became...closer he's been getting more confessions than usual  even for him they pour down like rain. Multiple girls a day sometimes as if they took numbers and decided to go in order, she dodges them at every turn but there's always a tinge in her chest and she contemplates going to the nurse because there must be something medically wrong with her. 

She can barely taste the fried pork as she watches another girl shuffle over to their table, giant red heart box pressed tight against her chest as she approaches Seojun. His friends all notice and are chanting his name, elbowing and shouldering him excitedly. 

“Han Seojun! Han Seojun!” 

Su-ah suddenly places a warm hand on her knee, she looks at her in shock. Fear gripping at her as the other girl stares at her with gentle comforting eyes. She pushes the hand away. She doesn’t need comfort, she is fine. Fine. 

Her throat tightens as the confession starts.

"Han Seojun, I-I've liked you since last year. Willyougooutwithme?" This isn't new, they usually lose their nerve at the end sputtering out their feelings all over him. She never sticks around long enough to hear his answers, but this time she has no choice; if she leaves that would be suspicious. It would give people the wrong impression. 

She swallows her blueberry milk, he'd tossed it at her this morning saying he bought the wrong one. Coincidentally that was her favorite. It taste like chalk now on her tongue. 

"Sorry, I'm not interested." He answers truly sounding apologetic, she shifts in her seat, pointedly staring at her food. Stifling her smile by stuffing cold noodles into her mouth. 

There is a long silence as the cafeteria watches, all waiting for the girl’s  reaction. Usually there are tears, loud wailing cries and pleading for another chance, but sometimes they are silent as they walk off heartbroken, friends waiting to soothe them. 

The girl sighs, but unlike the others who usually scurry away, she speaks again, "Can I ask why? Do you already like someone?" 

A thrumming energy fills the room following her question, girls all looking around at each other, preening hopeful that they've captured the heart of the resident bad boy. She just wants this uncomfortable moment to end already, it's giving her indigestion. 

"Yes. I like someone." 

It feels like a sledgehammer to her chest, ignoring Su-ah's hand clutching at hers she stands up grabbing her tray. Nobody pays her any mind besides her two best friends, she weakly smiles at them, "I'm all done. I'm gonna head to the library I'll see you both later." 

She tosses out her tray viciously, forcing herself not to look back. 

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Avoiding him isn't easy, he's always there waiting for her or texting her to ask why she isn't coming over for dinner because his mother made her favorite. She's never lied to him before but she finds herself doing just that, feigning illnesses and late night classes. Which only results in him offering to bring her soup and give her a ride to said classes. Like she said their lives were for lack of a better word, entangled. 

But she sticks to it, keeping her distance from him as she tries to understand why exactly she's doing this. He's her friend she should be happy that he likes someone, he was an idiot but it was probable that the feeling was mutual. He would finally have a girlfriend, someone to fill the spot she had been temporarily occupying. Someone he could bring home for dinners and someone to accompany him at his father's grave. Someone to talk to late at nights when he had a nightmare about losing his family and couldn’t fall asleep. Someone, not her. 

"I'm happy for him. I should be feeling sorry for the poor girl he likes." She whispers to herself, aimlessly scrolling on her phone. Instagram has been a great source of distraction lately. As soon as she opens the app she sees a red dot pop up, a notification. She taps it seeing that she's been tagged in a photo, then another notification pops up and another and another and they start coming in too quickly for her to keep up. 

"What the hell?" She admonishes aloud, clicking randomly on one of the notifications ready to see what's causing such an uproar.

It's a picture of her. 

She remembers the day clearly, Seojun had forced her to go with him to a new diner that specialized in American cuisine, all so he could stuff his face with pancakes. She had no clue he'd taken a picture of her. Something that feels butterflies flutters in her stomach as she reads his caption. 

How do you get a princess to forgive you? 

Was this some kind of joke? What the hell was he thinking? She bulks at all the likes and comments on the photo after only two hours, she'd never gotten that much attention on a photo but she rarely posted pictures of her face. There were a lot of creeps online. 

Nervously she taps to view the comments, it's a mixed bag of reactions. Girls she's never met before cursing her very existence as if she's a threat to their imaginary relationship with him and the very same creeps that caused her not to post selfies on her page posting disgusting sexual comments. 

She instinctively taps to reply to rip them to shreds before she realizes that Seojun has already replied to every comment from a guy, threatening them explicitly and a few comments are even accusing him of deleting comments. There are a few comments calling her pretty but those are few and far in between and usually they are attacked in their replies by other jealous fan girls. 

Anger bubbles in her gut, what the fuck was he thinking posting a picture of her for all these vipers to see? 

Impulsively she taps the screen harshly, fingers flying across her keyboard. 

Delete this now. Are you insane? Who are you calling a princess?! 

Almost immediately she regrets her rash decision as comments flood in. 

How dare you talk to oppa like that? 

Oppa see she doesn't deserve you! 

Who is this snotty bitch?

You're not pretty enough to be this stuck up honestly, no offense. 

You should be happy a hot guy is posting you, ungrateful. 

She's tempted to reply to each comment, who did think they were talking to, she wasn't some pushover, let's see if they would have this much gall to say this to her face. She'd taken on a gang of would be thugs, she had no problem beating some sense into some bitches. 

But they're not worth her time or energy. 

Swiping the app close, she takes a calming breath. Counting to three. Then five. Then ten. Then twenty. When her anger is nothing but a low thrum beneath her skin, she opens her contacts going to get favorites and clicking his name,  bringing her phone to her ears. 

"Finished ignoring me princess?" He answers smoothly, sounding far too relaxed for all the trouble he's caused. She wants to wring his neck.

"Have you lost your mind?" She cuts to the chase, huffing angrily as her phone buzzes with more notification. "Han Seojun you better delete that picture right now!" 

"You've been ignoring my calls and texts and pretending you don't see me at school. What else was I supposed to do?" She can hear the strain in his voice, but he doesn't sound angry, no that's his hurt voice. 

"I've just been busy. You didn't need to do something this... extreme." 

He scoffs, clearly not believing her excuse. It sounds weak to even her own ears, they'd gotten too close they made time for each other, doing the most mundane things together, he even helped her clean her house sometimes and she would regularly help him shop for groceries. 

"Come open your door. I think we need to talk." 

He hangs up after his statement, leaving her to stare at her phone in shock. 

"That little piece of shit." She curses, running a hand through her hair before she hops out of bed, running to open her apartment door. She slows down as she nears the door, not wanting him to think her too eager. She's not. 

Running her hand through her hair again, she slowly pulls open the door. A breath swooshes through her lips at the sight of him, she's been avoiding him so much it's overwhelming to be staring at him directly like this. 

They stare at each other, the air unexpectedly charged between them as their gazes meet.

"It's rude to leave someone standing outside." He quips finally, pressing past her before she can reply to his complaint, she huffs in annoyance stepped aside to give him entry. 

Familiarly he toes off his boots, putting on the slippers her mom had purchased for him after his presence became more constant. Then he strides across the small space of her living room, sitting on her couch and glancing at her expectantly. She closes her door with a sigh, walking over and sitting in the single love seat. He stares at her hard. She struggles to keep his gaze. 

"What did I do? Whatever it is, I'm sorry. If you tell me what it is, I probably won't do it again." 

She's so taken back by his immediate apology that she stupidly focuses on the least important word in the sentence, "Probably?" 

He shrugs in reply, "I like pushing your buttons. You like it too. So I can’t make promises until I know what I did.” 

She can't argue with his assessment, they did have a very unusual relationship built on mutual sarcasm and backhanded compliments. They both were masters of never truly saying what they were thinking or feeling, too scared of rejection to make the final jump of fate. So they just kept crashing into each other, prodding and poking without recognizing why. 

"I'm not mad at you." She admits, she has no reason to be upset. He hadn't done anything besides like someone else, that wasn't a crime.  Unless the judge was her heart and then he had committed the most heinous of crimes. 

"Then why are you avoiding me?" The crux of it all, she was avoiding him because he forced her to acknowledge the secret she'd kept so hidden even she was unaware of it until it hit her over the head. 

"Why do you care so much?" She counters defensively, feeling naked under his penetrating stare. 

He laughs coldly, "Answering my question with a question. Never took you for a coward Kang Sujin." 

She bristles at the snide remark, who was he to call her a coward?

"If I'm a coward why are you here? Why post my picture on your Instagram? Don't you like someone, why are you here bothering me!" She hisses at him, each word gradually increasing in volume until she's screaming at his blank face. Then he starts laughing, pure unhindered laughter from his belly that stings her ears. She made herself too obvious. 

"Aren't you supposed to be smart?" 

"What do you mean by tha-" He cuts her off before she can finish shouting, "How do you not know that I was talking about you?" 

Her voice drains like water slipping down a sink as she hears the words he said, she blinks before her mouth falls open in shock. 

"Was I really letting you tutor me? What was I thinking?" He laments to the ceiling, mocking her but she's too riled up now already climbing out of her seat and striding over to him. He jolts backwards as she places her hands on his shoulders, searching his face and delighting at his wide eyes before climbing into his lap. He wheezes but his hand immediately latch onto her hips. She stares at him closely, eyes trailing from his hypnotic eyes, down to his lifted pert nose and lingering on his full plush lips. 

"You like me." She states, watching how his eyes flutter shut before landing on her own lips. 

"I thought it was very clear. Who else could I have been talking about, I spend all my time with you." 

He's right, they did spend a lot of time together prior to her self-preserving decision to avoid him like the plague. She hadn't realized when her feelings for him had changed, thinking they were simply friends the entire time.  A friend that she thought about constantly, who she wanted to spend all her time with and sometimes she's idly imagine kissing or holding his hand. She certainly hasn't expected anything. 

But here he was offering.  She wasn’t a good enough person to turn it down. 

"I'm going to kiss you. Stop me if you don't want that." She states boldly, now that she knows this is on the table, he's on the table she is practically starving and all her doubts have transformed into the desire, the desire to touch and be touched. He glances at her, his patented 'are you stupid?' stare and she laughs before smashing their lips together. It's hard and a little uncomfortable, with their lips just roughly pressed together and she wonders if they're doing it right before his hands stroke her cheeks, tilting her head as he slows down the kiss until it's sweeter and softer and oh, is that his tongue? He swipes at her sealed lips and she only hesitates for a moment before slowly opening and allowing him entrance.

This takes the kiss to another level, as her head swims at his flavor- something spicy and earthy irrevocably Seojun that she finds addicting and she eagerly sticks her tongue into his mouth, licking at his moist cavern. Wet smacks fill the air as they suck at each other's face, his large hands nearly circling her waist entirely she shivers at the touch, feeling small and delicate in his arms. He reaches up a hand to caress her hair and she mimics the move, pushing her hand through his thick hair tugging at the end of his mullet. When they break apart, panting into each other's mouths she feels like her soul has been set ablaze. 

"Since you're so smart I guess I don't have to tell you how I feel." She says trying to regain her composure and her breath, her lungs feel winded like she's run a marathon.

"Of course not. Everyone likes me, you're no exception." He replies cockily and she groans in exaggerated disgust pushing him away and clamoring out of his lap, but he tightens his grip with a deep chuckle easily manhandling her until they are laying on her couch, her back to his front. His breath is hot on her neck. 

"My mom will be home soon, we can't stay like this." She warns reaching back to move his arm which is digging into her back, dragging his arm over her waist and squirming until she's comfortable.

"I know. We still have an hour. She's working overtime tonight." 

Of course he knows her mom's schedule, she tries to smother her smile. She fails but nobody seems so she'll take it as a partial victory. 

He reaches over her, grabbing the remote before switching on Netflix and putting on a movie they'd started before but never finished because she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He had complained about her drooling on his favorite sweater the next day at school, as she shushed him and people looked over at the odd pair. 

"You're gonna delete that picture right?" She asks, only barely focused on the movie too distracted by his warmth behind her. She has to smother a moan when he starts stroking aimlessly on her waist. His fingertips igniting her skin in a warm burn that travels to her heart and lower. 

"Humph why can't I have a picture of my girlfriend on my page?" 

She turns around immediately, "Girlfriend? Who said anything about that," she rebuttals watching his eyes narrow until they're barely slits. She doesn't hate that look on him. 

"You kiss someone who isn't your boyfriend like that?" She blushes at him mentioning that, the kiss still very vivid in her mind, her lips still tingling. 

"Shut up." She huffs punching him in the chest, but he catches her hand and yanks her close until they're chest to chest, noses almost touching, lips a hair's breadth apart. 

"I'm going to kiss my girlfriend, stop me if you don't want it." He echoes her earlier words, gripping the back of her head as he stares at her a clear challenge, smirking when she doesn't move away before he devours her lips again. She groans around his tongue in her mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as their lips slide wetly against each other.

When the jingle of keys sound several minutes later, she tumbles off the couch frantically as her mom pushes the door open. She wipes her lips, before looking up at Seojun; he looks wrecked- hair tussled and sticking up in different directions, his cheeks are burning red looking hot to the touch and his lips are sore and wet. Her heart does a somersault in her chest at the sight. 

Fuck. That's my boyfriend.

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She lets him keep the photo on his account in the end, it keeps the hungry fan girls away and guys leave her alone for the most apart. She ignores his smirk when he sees her comment under the photo. 

To everyone who has something to say, Han Seojun is mine. If you have a problem with that, come say it to my face. 

Nobody ever comes to say it to her face. 

“You’re cute when you’re jealous princess.” He teases her, and she scoffs at him, “You’re one to talk, didn’t you almost get into a fist fight today because someone commented that they wanted to ‘tap that’?” 

He growls at the memory of that, only the principal strolling in had stopped him. 

“You guys are perfect for each other, both deadly and gorgeous.” Su-ah adds gleefully pushing her way between them and linking arms on both sides. 

She pushes his hand away when he immediately reaches for her, “Yah! Give me back my girlfriend!” He whines desperately trying to circumvent Su-ah and grab her hand, whining loudly about third wheels and people trying to get in the way of true love.

She’ll never get tired of hearing that. 

She was Han Seojun's girlfriend and he was her boyfriend, everyone could stay mad.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

What’s the difference between autism and adhd ? I’m going through you adhd tag and now I’m trying to guess whenever I have adhd or if autism + c-ptsd are wrecking my focus.

Hey anon, I feel you very hard!  With the caveat that I am not a doctor and even self-diagnosis shouldn’t depend on taking the word of a random dude on the internet, here is my broad assessment, as a person with ADHD and C-PTSD but probably not autism:

All three feature a lot of overlap, both between the three and between individual pairs.  For example, PTSD and ADHD can both present with focusing difficulties, memory problems, and hypervigilant behavior.  ADHD and autism are highly comorbid--meaning, they appear together a lot, and one can easily mask the other because diagnostic tests aren’t always designed to separate them. More to the point, they share a lot of traits--hyperfixations and special interests are functionally the same thing, we both tend to stim a lot, we both have that once I start talking I can’t fucking stop thing.  All of them share a big list of symptoms, including rejection sensitivity, difficulty in social situations, difficulty regulating emotions, sleep problems, the works.  This can make it hard to parse the things that are characterized by “shared” symptoms--in this case, difficulty regulating your focus.

The things ADHD has that are not typical of autism or PTSD include:

Hyperactive behavior: this is different from stimming because it’s not attached to an actual sensation.  I just can’t sit the hell down and hold still, at all, ever.  It makes me feel like ants are crawling on my skin, and then it makes me frustrated, and then it makes me panicky, and then it makes me angry, and it pretty much goes downhill from there.  Not everyone with ADHD has this symptom (I recommend looking up the distinction between Hyperactive, Inattentive, and Combined ADHD; I have combined type), but it’s still worth mentioning.

Short attention span: focus is the ability to dedicate your energy to a task; attention is the ability to keep your brain on that task at all.  If I’m having a bad day or I forget my meds, I’ll just wind up staring at a wall or flipping through papers on my desk or something whenever my brain decides it’s done thinking about something.  This is your classic Inattentive ADHD symptom.  It is also why I have a list of every single minute task I need to do every day, because if my attention span ends before I’m expecting it to, I’ll forget everything I’m doing.

Poor sense of danger: not just a lack of impulse control, but your brain genuinely not telling you something is dangerous until you’ve already done it.  One time I submerged my arm almost to the shoulder in 175 F water and the only reason I didn’t have to go to the hospital was because pain reflexes don’t have to report to your brain.  I’m very delicately wired for threat responses, I’ll jump out of my skin if you drop a pencil, but if I had a dollar for every time I had to have my girlfriend bark DON’T TOUCH THAT right before I grabbed a hot pan, I’d be paying our Brooklyn rent.

Time blindness: ADHD means that I live at the mercy of the alarms on my phone.  I have absolutely no sense of how long it’s been since I did anything, nor how long I have until I need to do something else.  Have I been awake for an hour or four?  How long has it been since I ate?  If I have an appointment tomorrow, it basically doesn’t exist, right?  You know how everyone started talking about how it seems like the only time that exists is Right Now since the start of the pandemic?  That’s what ADHD feels like, all the time.

Interest-driven motivation: general executive dysfunction is one thing, but ADHD is characterized by a total lack of motivation for things that aren’t interesting.  I essentially have to have someone physically in the room watching me the entire time if I’m going to clean my room.  This is also because people with ADHD often also have trouble planning, which is such a related problem in my experience that I’m going to put it here.  I can’t parse what parts of “cleaning my room” need to happen in what order, and also, my brain hates it, so if I try to do it alone, I just end up a little puddle of overwhelmed, understimulated despair on the floor.

Understimulation: this is, in my experience, the big one.  ADHD is basically your brain being unable to provide a minimum level of stimulus to keep itself happy.  That means that when people with ADHD get understimulated, we get depressed.  If I sit in a waiting room with nothing to do for an hour before an appointment, I’m going to be on the verge of a meltdown by the time I’m done.  I’ve developed an endless list of “time filling” activities to keep my brain from dropping into the black void of boredom.  I’ve experienced a lot of emotions in my day and Nothing To Do is probably in the top three worst feelings I’ve ever felt.  Personally PTSD tends to manifest as my brain not caring about stimulation anymore, probably because PTSD is plenty of simulation all by itself--if I’m sitting quietly in a dark room, something has gone horribly wrong.

Anyway, that’s what I can think of offhand.  If you’re more of a visual thinker, this Venn diagram is a great TL;DR of this post.  Obviously, plenty of people have atypical presentations of other disorders that might share traits listed here, but these are the things that, in my experience, are more characteristic of ADHD than PTSD or autism.  

As ever, if you’re really struggling and you feel like you need help and you have the option, I recommend a professional opinion over Some Guy Online, but this guy online thinks you’re doing great.  Be gentle with yourself--the slow creep of worldwide trauma created by the pandemic means that a lot of people are struggling to keep their footing, psychologically speaking.  That very frequently manifests as focusing problems, especially for those of us with pre-existing disorders.  Don’t rush to a diagnosis in the middle of a worldwide disaster, but also, take yourself seriously.  The name of the disorder is secondary to the fact that you’re having a hard time, so don’t forget to be kind to yourself and cut yourself some slack.

[itsuki-minamy]

“K SIDE: PURPLE 10”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)

"Now he's tense!"

When Soma entered the room, that voice rang out.

About 10 men flocked to a section of a large spacious room. It looked like the cushions were scattered around the threadbare tatami mats, and that it was just a play area. He didn't have an intermediate basin, and he wondered if it was okay to bet in the area where everything was happening simply with a swing.

"Okay, here we go!"

The men pile up a wad of bills before the day, as invited by the tantalizing voice. Some are scorched and some are bloody. It is "loot" brought from the "battlefield". It is the custom of their predecessors that they often brought money, although they did not have much space or time to spend. Members of the underworld are obsessed with money.

"The pieces are ready. The game. Niroku no Ding!"

When the two dice emerged from under the bowl, the men cheered and sighed. Soma looked at him coldly. Although it was a life that could not be known tomorrow, they were both silly and funny, as they could be happy and sad like the eyes of a rhinoceros.

When…

Soma noticed that one of them did not tremble.

Their synonyms for black suits have been removed to expose the upper body. The impressive Japanese carved tattoos on his back, however, were mostly covered in red-black burns.

"Purgatory" Sword No. 3, Hiiragi Toma.

Soma's target person.

While he was sitting with one knee upright, Hiiragi was rolling a saber onto his side. He must have been stolen from "Scepter 4" during the last conflict. Like a swordsman, even the people of "Purgatory", who have an image of evil, are keeping a distance.

After breathing for a bit, Soma stood next to Hiiragi.

"Are you not feeling well, Hiiragi?"

"……"

Hiiragi looked at Soma with only his eyes. Eyes like a light buried in ash. Soma accepted the pressure of the line of sight, which would be to pass out just by looking directly at an ordinary person, with a smile.

"I have something I want to ask you. You have a little time, right?"

"Let's do it later."

Hiiragi replied briefly. Soma looked at the tatami in front of Hiiragi and shrugged slightly.

"Oh, that's right. Well, I'll wait for you here."

He took the cigarette out of the pack and lit it with the "lighter" to the left of him. Soma vaguely eyed the entire gambling house, smoking purple smoke. It was like the air that swayed there. A kind of atmosphere that is natural for "Purgatory" to breathe.

That's it.

"The pieces are ready. The game."

The hand, swinging the bowl, tried to reveal the rhino's eyes.

A steel-colored saber crashed against the tatami.

"Eh, aaaaaaaaaaagh?!"

Along with the screams, the finger swinging the bowl, rolled. Fresh blood overflowed from the cross section, staining the tatami mats red and black. As he distorted his face in severe pain, he was still screaming in anger.

"Well what are you doing, Hiiragi?"

He shook the saber like a great snake and cut his hand in half, but Hiiragi's face didn't show any change. The holly was fluffy, with a dull top.

"Soma."

"Oh?"

"In our group, I did this for the madman."

Soma laughed as he smoked a cigarette.

This guy must have been a newcomer who had just entered "Purgatory." If he had met a human named Hiiragi even if he was a little bit, he would never have been able to imitate such behavior. Or maybe it could just be an accurate statement, maybe he just wanted to use it as an excuse to use violence

Well, it doesn't matter what it is. Soma tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with the toe of his shoe.

"It is not a game; do you think such an answer is valid just because you are an executive?"

Hiiragi didn't reply anything with a serious expression. As he gritted his teeth in anger, he stepped on the mat with his left foot. From the burns that cover that story, a flame of extraordinary skill coiled vigorously.

A red light flashed on Soma's left hand.

A high-pressure, high-temperature "whip" that stretches freely at his will. Squirming like a snake targeting his prey, the light shot through his left eye and leaped through the back of his head as it was.

The mutilated body, which lost its brain function, fell.

Hiiragi looked at Soma. That hand was still holding the saber.

"Don't do extra things."

Soma snorted like a fool.

"If you go crazy, it's hard to clean up afterwards. Wear that fine style only outside."

His ability is activated from the tattoo engraved on his back. His power as a combat afterburner was not used in such a room.

Hiiragi kept looking at Soma, but when he looked away as if he had lost interest, he stopped there.

"Clean it up."

"Yes."

Several members of the clan took control and began to clean the tatami mats, bundles and corpses surrounded by gushing blood. There is nothing to blame for the violence. Hiiragi is an executive, not because he is a newcomer to the place, but because Hiiragi is stronger.

There is nothing in "Purgatory" that can be called order. There is only one measure of strong or weak. Those who fought and survived are strong, and those who died are weak. And the weak and the dead are equally useless. That was the only reason the clan welcomed the "King of Violence".

"So, what?"

At Hiiragi's question, Soma finally remembered his business.

"Oh, yeah. Where is the other one who was with you now?"

"......"

"Baraki...?"

Hiiragi frowned. The guy should have been attached to Hiiragi's subordinates, but he doesn't seem to remember him.

Soma was shocked and explained in a way that Hiiragi could understand.

"Look, he came in a few months ago, "right hand" and..."

"Oh, that boy."

Humans who have received the installation of the "Red King" will surely destroy a part of his body with vicious energy as if reflecting the nature of Kagutsu. In Soma it was the little finger of the left hand, in Hiiragi's case it was the back and in Baraki's case it was the right hand.

The damaged part also serves as a means to activate different abilities. Sometimes it is quicker to say what he lost than to remember his face.

Hiiragi shook his head slightly.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while."

"That's right. My subordinate."

"I don't remember who lived and who died."

In "Purgatory", the death of a member of the clan is a daily event. Some die in battle with "Scepter 4", while others die in the inner circle of clan members, like the guy above. It seems that the martial arts group does not intend to remind the staff to be replaced to metabolize.

"He's either dead or trapped. It's not a weird story."

"Well, that's correct. I'm sure I haven't seen any other guys, and I'm sure they're gone."

"What's wrong with that guy?"

Looking back at Hiiragi's emotionless eyes, Soma shrugged.

"I got information to make money, but it seems they didn't tell me everything. So I thought I'd listen to you."

In this case, it would be more accurate to say "listen to the body" rather than "listen to the story." Hiiragi is also a person who originally belonged to an antisocial organization. So the story was fast.

"So he flew. Do you want to chase him?"

Not many members of the clan escape from "Purgatory". Originally, all who enter are daredevils who have no place in this world. There they can burn your life.

It is a group of lost people who do not know about the life and death of the moment, but there are exceptions to everything.

"I am sorry..."

Soma put his hand on his chin and pondered. From his own information from the registry, the question is whether traitors and fugitives can be left alone. "Purgatory" is not oscillating.

First of all, Kagutsu himself, who is the "King", must make him wonder if he doesn't believe that he belongs to the organization.

"So if you see him, you take a suitable frame."

"I understood."

Hiiragi laughed slightly. In fact, it is an order to kill. For Hiiragi, who has fallen from an antisocial organization to "Purgatory", the only thing that can burn his life is the exchange of lives with others.

As he held the saber, Hiiragi walked calmly. Seeing his back, Soma lit a cigarette again and inhaled purple smoke.

++++++++++

As he walked down the back alley so as not to expose himself, Noriya Baraki looked back many times.

There were no other figures than Baraki among the buildings where he rained heavily. Still, he couldn't shake the illusion that someone was chasing him, and he walked quickly with his shoulders hunched.

The dirty clothes that he was wearing, he took off a homeless person with bad luck, and although he smelled strong, he could not do otherwise. The black suit is synonymous with "Purgatory", he cannot wear such a thing forever.

He is no longer a member of "Purgatory".

Baraki belonged to "Purgatory" for the same reason that he joined the Ashima group. He thought it was a gathering of strong people. This is because there is one side that can exploit the weak as they please. So he gave Soma most of the information about the "assets" that he knew about and asked him to put them in the "Burning House". Even if he lost his right hand, he thought that, if he was a proof of a strong man, it would be like losing his little finger.

But…

Baraki realized that he was wrong.

"Purgatory" is not a group of strong men. It was a group of abnormal people.

The violence they wielded at will sometimes robbed the members themselves. Those facing the sword were killed. Those who fear were killed. And the unfortunate one was killed. Kagutsu Genji. That monster called "King" caused death and destruction just by being there. Literally, in "Purgatory", everyday life was next to death.

It is not an environment that can be tolerated by a decent nervous owner. Either they will die early or they will run away. And it's just one of them on a sunny day.

Baraki looked back again.

"Scepter 4" is not the only enemy of "Purgatory". Many anti-social organizations that establish conflicts, almost at random, also see "Purgatory" as their enemy. Similarly, those who strayed from there tended to be attacked more fiercely because there was no reception from the organization.

That is why he must hurry. Get what he wants and fly somewhere far away.

North or south, anywhere, out of reach of those monsters, somewhere far away.

When Baraki turned around for the third time, he appeared in the alley.

"Hey, Baraki."

While he was wearing the black suit, he was laughing, or not. He looks like he was laughing. Burns that jump from the edge of his lips to his temples make his face look like a smile.

"I've been looking for you. Where are you going?"

When he took a step to start running, his foot stopped. One in a black suit with a saber in hand blocked the way. The hand without the saber was badly burned, leaving only two fingers.

They both had familiar faces. They were under Hiiragi's orders.

The one with his "fingers" gasped.

"Hiiragi-san is looking for you."

The one with the burned "lips", he said.

"Which is better, being alive or charred? I'll let you choose according to the kindness of your former colleague."

Baraki put his right hand to his chest.

His heart was pounding hard like a bell and his usual face was bleeding. There was no escape because he was surrounded from the front and the back.

That means this alley, where he completely rains, has become his death.

From the moment he ran away, he had a feeling this would happen.

"Purgatory", "Scepter 4", Kagutsu Genji, Habari Jin. From the moment he got involved in the war of monsters that manipulated different abilities like burning dust, it was confirmed that his fate would be like this.

But still, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live.

Just that feeling propelled Baraki out of the swamp of despair. Baraki may have been small, but they weren't stupid enough to think they could live without doing anything.

If you want to live, you have to fight. It is a lodging business that is also run by those born in this world.

A flame came out of Baraki's right hand.

Guren's palm, which is one size larger than that of humans. The only weapon Baraki possessed colored the alleys that smoked in the rain red.

"Ku."

"Lips" in the back he laughed, and "fingers" in front of him raised his burned hand in front of his face and muttered.

"Yes. You will be charred."

(That's what will happen to you!)

Instead of yelling, he spat, and Baraki kicked the ground and raised his fiery hand towards "fingers".

++++++++++

Under the eaves in front of the station, Hase waited with his bag.

He had been raining lightly since morning, but he didn't have an umbrella due to Hase's nature. As he practiced, Mishakuji suddenly remembered that he was waving a wooden sword while turning into a wet mouse, regardless of whether it was raining or snowing.

Hase noticed Yukari and smiled.

"Oh. You came, Yukari. It's early!"

As Yukari smiles, he tips his umbrella and walks over to Hase.

"Sensei. There are still 30 minutes until the meeting time."

He hears that the place they were heading to from now on, where Miwa Ichigen lives, was in the mountains, which took almost half a day from here. However, Hase's luggage was a bad backpack and there seemed to be no decent change of clothes. With a strange look, Hase also looked at the carrying bag dropped by Yukari with similar eyes.

However, there is only one thing the two people have in common.

Yukari has a sheath that hangs from his shoulder and Hase has a sheath that hangs from his back. To put it the other way around, if you have this, you don't need any other luggage.

"Did you say hello to Sayuri-san before you left?"

Hase wondered such a thing as they entered the station together. Yukari shook his head.

"No, it looks like she was drinking late last night, so I left without saying hello."

"Haha, that's right. Well, it's the beginning of her beloved son. Maybe we all wanted to celebrate."

"It doesn't mean I won't be back."

Hase slaps Yukari's wet back with his big palm.

"I know, I know! You are a man of your word, don't worry!"

Having said that, he laughed at his arrogance.

Dissatisfied Yukari's lips were sharp. Still, it wasn't as frustrating as It used to be. He can always go back to "Nibangai". He will always be able to find the people who live there. That is why Yukari was motivated to take a step into a larger world, as they expected.

He only knows Miwa Ichigen from Hase's story. He's not an eloquent person, but his sword skills were the most beautiful thing Yukari had ever seen in his life. Every time he thought of Miwa's sword, who made Hase say, "I've never seen anything more beautiful than that.", he was excited.

He wanted to see it as soon as possible and, if possible, he would like to make adjustments and acquire it. Driven by painful expectations, Yukari was encouraged and headed for the ticket vending machine.

A roar echoed from a distance.

"……"

A heavy and low sound, like the sound of the earth. Yukari stopped and turned to that side.

The moment he instinctively felt that "Nibangai" was in the right direction, he heard the second sound.

It was a continuous roar. The sound of something exploding and burning, like you heard in war movies. Perhaps Hase noticed that, he turned his face towards him with his dull expression.

The two jumped out of the station at the same time.

Black smoke billowed in the direction of "Nibangai" past the shops and multi-tenant buildings lined up in front of the station. When swallowed it, a red-black explosion broke out many times. At the sight of the rain, the reflection of the flames that stained the streets red was reflected in Yukari's eyes like something terrible.

"Hey, Yukari! Wait!"

Hase's voice came from behind and, for the first time, Mishakuji realized that he was running.

Still, his legs didn't stop. He dropped the bag that was obstructive, and just grabbed the wooden sword that he had taken out of the sheath, Yukari ran in a straight line. Heading for his hometown, "Nibangai" surrounded by smoke and flames.

[the-peak-of-despair]

Chihiro x Reader - Reader reacts to Chihiro’s death

anon said:  I hear you're good at angst 👀 could I please get a Chihiro x fem reader where the reader is there with Makoto and Byakuya when they discover Chihiro's body and then the events of the trial, in which the reader has to be held back by her classmates when it's revealed what Byakuya did and that he did it for his own entertainment? (like honestly, what the fuck Byakuya??) Sorry if this is too long 😅

Nonnie you hit the right blog because the second I started writing this I did not stop and I think I went legitmately feral on this one. I might be a bit off with the request because I’ll be real I think I got possessed by Edgar Allen Poe during this but I do hope you enjoyed! Get your tissues and say a prayer for the poor souls in the danganronpa-x-reader discord server who got to see snippets of what I was writing before I posted -Mod Akane : )

“Come on, let’s check in the girls locker room first.” Byakuya commands (Y/N) and Makoto, both of them muttering something about why we had to specifically check the girls locker room… (Y/N) notes how the door seems to already be swinging open, but the thought is quickly put away as she follows along into the locker room.

Everything fell in an instant.

Everything fell apart. 

“GAAAAAAH!” Makoto basically screamed at the top of his lungs, falling backwards and nearly knocking into (Y/N) as he fell to the ground. When she avoided him and saw what she saw…

“CHIHIRO!” (Y/N) screamed, nearly damaging everyone in the vicinity’s eardrums. The horror set in as tears welled up in her eyes, pouring over and blurring everything from her vision to her very mindset. Chihiro.. Chihiro, her lover, her best friend.. He… he was dead? Someone.. someone killed Chihiro? 

Ding - dong! 

“A body has been discovered!” Monokuma calls, way too cheerily over the monitor, sparking a rage within (Y/N). Chihiro was dead, and this- this son of a bitch saw it as free entertainment. “Everyone, please gather in the girls locker room!”

The monitor flickered off.

(Y/N) stood in shock, right between Byakuya and Makoto. It was only a second of hesitation before she darted towards him.

Byakuya snagged her by the sleeve. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” He asks, impatient.

“CHIHIRO IS FUCKING DEAD, BYAKUYA!” (Y/N) screams. “H- SHE DOESN’T DESERVE TO DIE LIKE THIS! STRUNG UP LIKE A FUCKING MASTERPIECE! SOMEONE KILLED HER!” 

“It doesn’t matter who or what happened.” Byakuya grimaces. “This is a crime scene. You cannot alter the evidence. Unless you would like to be seen as the blackened, I suggest you restrain yourself from touching the scene.”

Byakuya let go of (Y/N)’s sleeve, his iron grip nearly having torn it. “So? Do you still want to get her down?”

(Y/N) grimaced at him, before choosing to look away. “Asshole..!” Tears filled their eyes once again. 

(Y/N) spent the entire investigation crying into Sakura’s chest and being held back from the crime scene, clearly too much of a fury of emotions to be able to do anything. How couldn’t she be? Her best friend, her lover, ripped away from her by some selfish fucking asshole who didn’t want their secret exposed.

She didn’t seem present for the first half of the trial.

Everyone noticed.

Within minutes, maybe even an hour she looked so much worse for wear. Eyes that were dead and longing and barely having moved or spoken almost the entire trial. When questioned about Chihiro’s gender, (Y/N) just nodded. 

Of course she had known. That’s what most of her classmates thought.

There’s this thing about death. You become so close to someone, you pour your heart into them and they do the same. They’re there for you almost everyday. And then one day, sudden or not.. They’re just taken away.

Of course, it’s inevitable.

But nothing on this Earth could prepare someone for that feeling. That feeling of loss, that feeling of calling someone’s name just out of habit just to end up crying on the floor because it comes crashing down all over again that they’re gone and you’d never see them again. It was a horrible, soul crushing despair that seeped into every neuron and part of your brain and would take forever to let go. It’s a feeling that breaks you down and holds you there.

Of course, (Y/N) was aware of everything happening the entire trial. It was like taking off your glasses or unfocusing a camera. Everything’s still there and if you focus really hard you might be able to see what happens. But the crushing weight of coping with that, the fact that she’d never see Chihiro again, the fact that she’d never kiss him again, never get to hug him, or cry into his shoulder, the fact that one day she had seen him for the very last time and she had never known.

Hindsight is always 20/20.

It didn’t feel like the glasses were put back on, like everything came into focus again, until Byakuya had spoken. 

“I tampered with the crime scene, yes, but I am not the culprit.” He states, plain and simple. Not a sign of emotion in his speech or his eyes.

And something about that broke (Y/N). 

She slammed her hands on her podium, the noise echoing through the trial room it had been so hard, snapping all surviving eyes on her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?” (Y/N) screams.

“...Elaborate.” Byakuya states simply. It wasn’t a request, or out of confusion, it was a fucking demand. 

(Y/N) took a heavy breath. “You are so fucking intolerable! YOU ARE A SOCIOPATH! CHIHIRO IS FUCKING DEAD, AND THIS IS WHAT YOU’VE DONE!?” She begins to scream, and the two on either side of her- Asahina and Sakura- look at her with concern. “I DON'T CARE IF YOU KILLED HIM OR NOT, WHO ARE YOU TO DO SUCH.. SUCH A HORRID THING?!” (Y/N) screams, her throat scratching and voice cracking all as her eyes began to swell with hot tears, making everything blur just a bit more. 

“Your senseless screaming has no affect on me.” Byakuya states simply. “I don’t care to listen to someone too clouded by her pitiful emotions to think straight.” 

(Y/N) doesn’t even stop for breaths anymore. “YOU MUTILATED MY BOYFRIENDS BODY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH OF A HORRIBLE PERSON YOU ARE?! THAT WAS A PERSON! A REAL PERSON WHO I LOVED! WHAT IS IT GOING TO TAKE FOR YOU TO REALIZE THIS IS NOT A FUCKING GAME?!” 

“It is a game.” Byakuya shoots back, irritated now. “Your senseless screaming gets us nowhere. If you can’t keep your emotions together, then you will be the next to go. If you crack under the pressure, that is not my problem. I intend to win.”  “YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING SCUMBAG!” (Y/N) screams, and it’s clear she’s ready to hop over the podium and choke the very life out of Byakuya’s eyes. To just.. rip away all signs and life of humanity, to do everything he fucking deserved to have done to him. 

What kind of human could be so corrupted to play with a corpse like a fucking barbie doll? What kind of person could be broken, so fucking demented to enjoy watching people, living breathing people who they knew personally who had families and friends and lovers.. What kind of asshole would enjoy watching them die, enjoy the flurry of emotions and pain that comes with it, enjoy the loss, the despair, the grief, the emotional fucking storm that rips your heart in two until it can’t fucking beat anymore? 

“(Y/N), you must calm yourself.” Sakura sets a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

“HE TOOK AWAY MY ONLY FRIEND!” (Y/N) screams, snapping away at the touch. “I DON’T CARE WHO THE KILLER IS, HE’S THE REAL MONSTER!” She steps back, like she’s about to hop the podium, but Asahina grabs her from behind, hooking her arms under (Y/N)’s to hold her tight.

“(Y/N), you’ve gotta calm down! We’re not gonna ever find the blackened like this!” Asahina shouts, struggling against (Y/N)’s rapid fighting as she begins to break down all over again.

“I DON'T CARE!” She screams, trying anything to fight against Asahina. “I-I’d rather be dead than al-alone..!” She begins sobbing, before finally losing all the fight in her, slumping over in Asahina’s grip. “I-I want Chihiro back…!” She sobs, the tears flooding her vision and pouring out, gasping for air as if Chihiro’s death itself took away her ability to breathe, her executive ability to function. 

(Y/N) finally stops screaming and fighting. Nothing stops her sobbing though, her relentless crying as she falls to the floor like a pile of rags when Asahina finally lets her go as the trial continues. Even through Byakuya’s mockery, nothing can get her back up off the floor. 

Chihiro was gone. 

It’s so hard. To cope with a loss in such a short time. In a place like this- this fucking nightmare- there was no time to mourn. It was loss after loss with no breaks in between. An academy of nothing but death and despair and pain, where when you lost someone it was game fucking over and you’d never get them back.

(Y/N) didn’t even know if she voted. She didn’t even know if she really saw the execution, or if she saw the blackened, or if she heard what snippy bullshit Monokuma had to say. She only really knew that Chihiro was gone, and that was all that mattered.

She didn’t remember how she got back to her dorm. Her legs certainly wouldn’t hold her up well enough to carry her all the way there. All she remembered was crying, crying like she’d never felt pain before, clinging to pillows that still just barely clung to the scent of Chihiro, like vanilla and coffee, pillows still left with the imprint of when Chihiro would sleep in (Y/N)’s bed. 

[bbqgiraffe]

Reverse Engineering Nitemare 3D

Nitemare 3D is a first person shooter developed by David P Gray and released on MS-DOS and Later Windows, and I for some reason decided it was a good place to learn reverse engineering

https://github.com/BBQGiraffe/OpenNitemare3D

screenshots from the games website:

Reading the games art

I first began by trying to identify what formats the game used, 3 files labeled IMG.1-3 contain all the bitmap sprites used for each episode, while UIF.DAT contain all menu artwork for the game, while the bitmap sprites were incredibly easy to figure out, the menu artwork was an absolute pain, menu art uses the PCX image format, which uses a clever compression algorithm to save space, after a few days of trying to get my caffeine marinated brain to function, I finally got the images exported.

Music:

The music is stored as standard midi files in SND.DAT, this format is still used today so it was incredibly easy to get working, although music was stuttering quit a bit, thankfully Doomworld user Sinshu showed me a quick fix to this issue

Writing the raycaster:

My next task was to write a game engine to render everything, I decided on using the C# programming language and the SFML game library, I first began writing a map importer, maps are stored in 3 files labeled MAP.1-3, which are sorted by episode and have several entries each 8192 bytes long (entry count is the size of the file size / 8192), each entry represents a 64x64 tilemap with 2 bytes per tile, even bytes being the tile id and odd bytes being the object id

Nitemare 3D uses a method called Raycasting to  render walls and sprites, thankfully Lode Vandevenne  has a wonderful tutorial on their website detailing how to make a raycaster from scratch, after a few hours I got the game maps displaying in this raycaster, however all the textures were off

this is because all the tiles were stored in the game executable itself, thankfully most versions of the game come with a map viewer which has some very useful text files containing tile names and their corresponding IDs I then wrote a tool to convert this text file into a massive enum, and used the names to manually identify what textures each tile used, this process took most of the night but after that tiles finally displayed properly

however I still did not have any enemies so I repeated the same process using a similar file that came with the map viewer, if these files did not exist this project would have been 100x harder so I’m very thankful David P Gray decided to include them, after that I had some monsters and pickups rendering in the game, this is where the project is currently at, with work on getting ai and doors under way.

Frustrations:

Asset Labeling:

In almost every single game engine assets like sprites music and sound effects are labeled, this was common even in the ancient times of 1994, David P Gray however decided to not label any of the game assets and instead just use numbers

this made trying to identify things a huge pain and is why I now how a personal distrust of gingers, this also meant I had to manually listen to every single game sound effect and label them myself and hope I get it correct, animations are also hard coded so I have to manually type them out, and until I finish reverse engineering the game their timings are guessed.

Sound Effects:

the original  MS-DOS version of N3D uses VOC audio files to store its sound effects while the Windows version uses plain PCM audio, the Windows audio was very easy to implement, however the MS-DOS audio always comes out a garbled mess of noise that physically hurts to listen to, I tried to implement a decoder but it somehow sounded worse

[urmomification]

WOOO POG DREAM SMP AU

theres 1.8k words and 9,393 characters of a schlatt au below the cut LMAO

[i was rambling to my friend and this is what came out of it! send me an abt it if u have questions i would love to talk abt it more pls]

(slight body horror/gore tw!!)

slams fists on table rattling any dishes on the table au where schlatt doesnt die of a heartattack and tubbo locks him up to rot basically and his horns grow into his eyes effectively blinding him and chained his hands together and basically a leash on him to keep him from moving around in his cell so he cant do anything to break the horns off before they get too long and one day when technos breaking into lmanberg he gets chased into the prison and loses them in the halls before coming across schlatts cell and schlatts calling out like 'whos there i can hear ur foot steps whos there please someone whos there' etc yk and technos speechless they thought they executed him to keep him from causing any more problems in the country but this is this is just much worse than anything he even thought theyd do and hes standing in front of schlatts cell just looking at him as if hes imagining it he knew lmanberg was bad but holy fuck they just let this man rot in a cell to the point of his own horns blinding him and giving him no aid or way to ease the pain so he makes himself known and schlatt 'ive never been so happy to see, well, hear an anarchist in my life, its good to see- hear you technoblade' and chuckles and blood runs down his face like tears would, few drops landing on his clothes before techno starts trying to get into the cell to take him out of there he cant leave him here sure he was an anarchist terrorist w a murder record but he had standards and now that schlatt wasnt in power he had nothing against him really considering he isnt a citizen of lmanberg so he manages to pick the locks enough to get him out of there, schlatts arm slung over technos shoulder they stumble out of the prison building and as they slowly make their way to the nether portal to get back to technos base, they run into tubbo and quackity, schlatts old right hand men and they try to stop techno bc hes well an anarchist terrorist w a murder record but the glare techno gives them levels them and theyre left staring at each other for a moment when schlatt 'whyre we stopped whos there tech' and techno mumbles 'tubbo and quackity schlatt' and schlatt just furrows his brows as far as he can without sending excruciating pain into his eye sockets before he purses his lips and asks 'are they going to try and stop us?' techno looks back at the other two 'no they wont, isnt that right boys?' tubbo and quackity slink away allowing techno and schlatt to the portal and them going thru, schlatt still silent as he tries not to trip over technos cape or off the ledge of the bridge passing over the lava lakes, they make it to the portal and begin the walk across the arctic tundra to technos house, philza isnt there right now so its just the two of them and techno leads him up the ladder to his room (its not really a room i think its just a bed, a bell and an enchantment table) and sits him down on his bed mumbling something abt being right back and he is with some medical supplies and a change of clothes to clean everything up, they dont talk techno works in silence and when schlatt winces he mumbles a small apology before continuing eventually techno got schlatt as cleaned up as you can get someone w horns in their eyes and a sweater to keep him warm and finally starts asking questions 'how long had u been in there' 'lost count' 'did they bring you food' 'a chests worth at the beginning of the month' techno sighs 'i thought they executed you' 'tubbo chickened out despite me being 'an active threat to our peace in lmanberg' and locked me up a few days after u set the withers loose and dropped off a chest of food once a month and most of them refused to talk to me others couldnt even make eye contact with me, other than the few instances where they said things like 'heres ur food' or 'u deserve this' or 'i cant believe tubbo let u live' i talked to no one other than myself for however long i was in there' techno stands and walks around for a moment before flipping some pages and schlatt can hear him gasp quietly in mild surprise 'what is it tech' looking in the direction he heard techno from and techno says, turning to face schlatt on his bed 'schlatt that was almost 3 months ago' a single beat of silence rings for what feels like forever 'oh. i, i didnt think itd been that long. though it would explain my current predicament' loosely gesturing towards his face 'oh right abt that i have a few questions if ur ready to answer some' schlatt hums and techno grabs a pen and paper and sits next to him in case he needs to take any notes for future reference 'how fast do ur horns normally grow' 'idk just a steady amount my whole life pretty much' 'will they ever stop growing' 'they generally stop growing around 30 and continue to grow more in width than length' 'did anyone who brought u food notice' 'they grow quickly and by the time the person w the third chest came around they were getting close to my eyes but they didnt listen to me, no one did' he sighs looking down at would be his hands 'the odds of both of my horns growing into my eyes and blinding me like this are so low but of course it would happen to me' a chuckle void of any amusement 'because losing my country and my people and my power wasnt enough already' techno stands up 'you had that coming' schlatt actually laughs this time, short and curt 'ok fair, u were the one that took me down afterall' and from then on schlatt lives w techno and phil and eventually tommy and then without tommy (tommy was Not happy when he found out that schlatt was living with techno but he needed somewhere to stay too and techno happens to live in an arctic tundra where only a handful of people know how to get to so he didnt complain too much) and eventually techno saws off schlatts horns at the bend adn removes them from his eyes bc if they kept growing into his head theyd hit his brain and kill him on top of blinding  him and techno gags and almost throws up despite not being sensitive to gore  and gives schlatt a bandanna to cover the holes in his head for everyones sake and once they heal somewhat he can find something else out and thats how they live, schlatt helps with what he can like farming w phil but mostly spends his time learning braille or something so he can read and techno gets him books in braille so he isnt bored or alone like he was in the prison and he feeds him and takes care of him and schlatt is funny and entertaining despite being blinded by something from his own body and the torture it was like to rot in a cell alone for almost a 1/4 of a year and nights when techno gets home late and hes shaken and the voices are bad schlatt will sit behind him and play with his hair and talk abt his own day and rub technos back and in return when schlatt relapses and gets violent and angry techno will wash his hair and read him stories until he calms down and hopefully asleep and no one told him the news that wilbur died so when ghostbur shows up and starts talking to him he treats him the same as he would wilbur bc he cant see that hes a ghost all thats different is his speech pattern and overall personality and one day he says 'ur different wilbur what happened to that, i dunno spark u used to have' and wilbur simply 'im not sure if im being honest a lot abt me has changed since i died, or so im told i dont remember much from when i was alive' and schlatt just 0_0 and then hes scrambling down the ladder and stumbling around the house looking for techno, finding him in the basement working on something and when he gets there hes out of breath and his hands are shaking bc holy shit wilburs not only dead but a ghost and he was just talking to me and he doesnt remember what i did and and and and techno is shocked to see schlatt in the basement and asks whats up and schlatt just 'wilbur died wilbur fucking died tech why didnt anyone tell him and now hes a ghost hes a fucking ghost who lives in ur house and doesnt remember anything he doesnt remember that he blew up lmanberg does he he remembers my name but not anything that i did what hes a fucking ghost techno hes a ghost holy fuck' and technos just standing there like ??? no one no one told him 'yea philza had to kill him after he blew up lmanberg i thought u knew thats why i didnt say anything' oh. 'phil, phil had to kill him?' 'yea its a touchy subject, dont bring it up' and simply goes back to what he was working on so schlatt sits on the ground by the ladder and listens to him work his brain going a mile a minute trying to comprehend whats going on 'would i have become a ghost if theyd chosen to execute me?' 'its hard to say im unsure if theres specific circumstances that contribuite to someone becoming a ghost but theres really no telling' and goes back to working yet again and from then on they fall into an easy schedule of techno going out and doing whatever an anarchist terrorist w a murder record does on ur average wednesday and schlatt stays home reading and organizing whatever he can based on size and feeling and sleeping in windowsills and schlatt greeting techno comes home beaten up and full of new resources and a side of bruises and cuts so he tends to them, getting better at maneuvering and functioning without needing to see then techno making dinner and then curling up by the fire for the night enjoying each others company as they talk abt their days :]

[whumpiary]

BTHB (@badthingshappenbingo) Fill: Manhandling | Requested by: @my-whumpy-little-heart (approximately 12 million years ago)

[content warning: referenced noncon/dubcon, abuse of power, threats of death, mild suicidal ideation/self-endangering thoughts, alcohol mention]

-

Cass doesn’t quite wake up to the sliding thud of his boarding door opening but by the time Tucker slams on the light with a fist against the switch, and thumps the wall with three shuddering thuds, Cass finds himself sitting up before his brain has time to process. 

“The fuck’re you doing?” he starts. Cass  squints up through the light at the man towering over him as he tries to get his heart to chill the fuck out.  “Wha'time is it?”

“Do you have any idea how much I just lost?”

Cass sighs wearily, dropping an arm over his eyes as he slumps back down. 

“Told y'not to play cards with AJ,” he slurs “She cheats”

“Oh I’m talking about a lot more than a little game of cards, Ace,” Tucker says, low and growling “But I think you know that”

Tucker grabs him by the collar with such force that Cass hears the threading of his t-shirt tearing as he’s hauled up, slammed against the wall. He’s instantly winded, breath beaten out of him, and in the moments searching for air he tries to focus, running his eyes over Tucker and realising that the usually immaculately presented man is in fucking disarray.

His hair is pushed wild and unkempt. His shirt is partially untucked, sleeves shoved to the elbows, not rolled. He’s not wearing a jacket. He’s not wearing his glasses. His tie hangs loose around his neck like an untightened noose.

“Are you drunk?”

“Might’ve had a few,” Tucker says, his breath soured with whiskey “Does that make you nervous, Ace?”

Cass tries to catch his breath back in long slow drafts instead of the gasps his lungs are begging for as he gives Tucker another once-over. “Depends what kind of drunk you are, I guess”

Tucker barely holds back a snarl, “I’m not in the mood for cute. You fucked me tonight”

“Oh that was you? I thought it was a particularly tense a-”

Before Cass can even finish the sentence, there’s a fist in his hair and his head is slammed against the wall. He barks a laugh in shock.

“Jeremy Beetham,” Tucker spits “That name mean anything to you?”

“Dunno,” Cass says, trying to blinks through the dizzy “Sounds very ‘my parents paid for me to get off the wait-list at an Ivy League’”

Another slam and Cass grits his teeth, slams his eyes closed. He breathes through his nose, hard, as pain cracks through his head in a blinding flash. 

“What about Winona Evans?” Tucker snarls “Leonard Bernadi? Richard Goa? Bellamy Saints?”

“To be honest I think you just made that last one u-”

Another slam. Jesus. He’s gonna lose brain function in a minute.

“You don’t remember them because you never fucking met them, did you?” Tucker says, yanking Cass’ head back with that same relentless grip in his hair “You never met them, you never talked to them, you never named them, and you certainly never got them to meet the settlement contracts I needed you to”

Understanding and annoyance dawn on Cass in the exact same instant.

“This is about that Hellcat thing?” he asks “You’re joking right?”

“Sixteen million dollars in company losses overnight is a pretty expensive joke, don’t you think?”

Okay, Cass reasons. Okay so this is maybe very bad.

“But see the thing is Ace, maybe it is a joke to you. Because you’re not the one who has to talk to the higher ups after that sort of loss, are you?” Tucker’s breath is fucking ripe with booze. He drops his grip on Cass’ hair, his hand instead settling lightly around Cass’ throat. There’s no tension there. Not yet. But there will be. Cass breathes in.“I’m the one who has to have four different meetings, with four different goddamn sectors of the goddamn company. I’m the one that had to figure out how to flip this into a vaguely neutral situation, instead of something bad enough to get us both castrated”

“Well let’s be real, that wouldn’t be much of a loss for y—”

Cass actually sees stars this time. Literal starbursts of white cross his vision and the crack of pain along the back of his skull starts to wrap around and drill in at his temples.

“Shut up,” Tucker spits, his hands tighten around Cassius’ neck as he speaks “I am done with jokes, Ace. We are so far beyond jokes now.”

Cass jerks his shoulders, tries to wriggle out of Tucker’s grip because he’s been violent before, sure. He’s said things like this before, too. But he’s never meant it. There’s never been that look in his eyes. 

“See, I had to beg to keep my job today. I had to beg not to have this entire fucking project dissolved. And then I had to beg to keep you from being sent back to Bergen”

Cass freezes, eyes wide. 

“Yeah, Ace,” Tucker mutters, a bitter little smile curling his lips. He takes the opportunity to press his hands even closer to Cass’ throat. Cass breathes in. No air comes “That’s right. I had to get down on my fucking knees in front of the fucking director and come up with reasons why Christopher Bergen’s little whore boy shouldn’t get sent right back home to him”

Cass closes his eyes tight, clenches his jaw. It’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. He’s not going back there. Tucker’s hands squeeze tighter and that’s fine too. Cassius feels his chest start to tighten, the first warning signs of not enough air, and it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, because he’s not going back there.

“Do you know how many questions I had to answer? Huh? Do you know how much I had to justify your fucking worth to the goddamn company?”

Cass grabs at the hands at his throat, fingers curling around fingers and trying to tear them away. He tries to thrash, but ends up with more of Tucker’s weight pushing down on him than before. He can breathe just barely if he tilts his head up. 

“And after all those meetings, after all that time on my knees, I got thinking… Why the fuck was I the one begging? Why was i the one grovelling again and again when it wasn’t my fucking mistake? Huh?”

Tucker’s grip is starting to bruise now. Cass can feel his heart still desperately trying to circulate blood to his brain despite it. A thumping beat beat beat that feels less like a pulse and more like a hammer to the head. 

“I’m not gonna get my bonus. I’m not gonna get my promotion. I fucking debased myself for you, again and again and again and as one of the executives so kindly pointed out I’m not even fucking you. So I think I deserve something in return, don’t you?”

Cass hits the wall with his hand and that’s stupid because it’s using up energy he doesn’t have but he needs air.

“Do you know what I want, Cass?” he says, eyes dropping heavy to Cass’ gasping mouth, then back up again “Actually why don’t you tell me what I want, huh? You reach into my head, and you tell me what I want and I’ll let you go right now and consider your punishment paid”

Of course he can’t. He never can with Tucker. It’s cracked and oozing and wrong and his mind flinches away from it before he can touch it like a hand to a flame. He shakes his head, mouth gaping open. He needs air. He doesn’t fucking know. He never knows.

“I want you to beg me,” Tucker spits “I want you to beg me, like I had to beg every single one of those fucking executives. I want you to beg me not to bash your skull in. I want you to beg me not to kill you. And I want you to beg me not to send you right back to the silk sheets I hauled you from because right at this moment I don’t know if I’m all that invested in this little game of ours anymore"

Tucker pushes away from the wall, from Cass, with a hard shove and Cass reels. He sucks in air desperately, hands pressed flat to the wall behind him just to stop himself from doubling over. He tilts his head to the ceiling to make space for oxygen to fall back in.

There’s not enough time for him to catch his breath before Tucker’s back on him again, hand squeezing at his jaw.

“I bet you haven’t begged in your whole life have you, Ace? Certainly not for me”

Cass paints his gaze carefully blank as he makes eye contact, heaving in wheezing breaths. Tucker has that hazed, drunk look of someone who knows exactly what they want and exactly how they’re going to get it. He wets his lips with a quick dart of his tongue and Cass pretends it doesn’t freeze the blood in his veins.

“You begged for him, though. Didn’t you?” Tucker purrs, the faintest hint of a smile at his lips. He reaches out, tucks a strand of hair behind Cassius’ ear, traces his hand down his cheek. Cass doesn’t flinch, even as a wave of cold shock runs through him. “Go on. Darling boy. Show me how you begged for Christopher”

Cass raises his chin higher. He holds Tucker’s gaze as he reaches for the man’s hands, pulling them towards himself until Tucker’s fingers curl back around his own aching throat.

Tucker laughs, a twisted mix of shock and delight. His eyes drop to Cassius’ throat. He licks his lips again. Almost tempted. But then he sneers, “Cute, sweetheart, but not what I asked for"

His knee hits into Cass’ stomach so hard it has the younger man doubled over. Another kick to his legs and his knees are hitting hard on the ground before he even as a chance to straighten. Cass lets out a quiet groan, a little exhale of sound to push out the heaving nausea that hits him as he’s shoved around.

“This is better isn’t it?” Tucker says, looking down on him like he’s just won some prize. His hand trails slowly down Cass’ cheek. Across his jaw. Along his chin. “It’s gotta be muscle memory for you by now, huh? Being on your knees?”

His thumb grazes up to ghost across Cass’ mouth, pulling down his lower lip. Cass knows that look. He’s seen it so many times that having it land on him almost feels like coming home. He wonders, for the barest of moments, if he should bite or suck. Instead he just holds his gaze.

“Thought I wasn’t your type”

Like a spell being broken, Tucker snaps his hand away. He practically snarls with disgust.

“You’re still not"

The blow to the side of his head is expected. It still sends him flying to the ground. Cass catches himself just before his face crashes into the floor. He can taste blood in his mouth, He spits it onto the polished concrete. He’s always liked the way blood and saliva look pooled together, Like they’re their own kind of marble.

“Beg”

Tucker’s foot nudges his shoulder and when he doesn’t move, he’s instead kicked in the gut. And again. And again. And again. And again.

“Beg”

Cass takes a ragged breath. Let’s out a laugh.

The hand in his hair actually hurts this time. And isn’t that funny? The way a thing can hurt and then it can fucking hurt. It feels like his skin tearing from his scalp. He wonders if that was even possible, or if maybe the hair follicles would snap first. Maybe if he survives he’ll look it up.

He feels his head smack into the leg of the desk. He considers telling Tucker that there’ll be more blood if he aims for the temple. More blood was more satisfying, right? Another whack.

“Beg me to stop”

He feels his body being turned over and then he’s being hauled up by his shirt again. His face is being hit. Again. Again. Again. That’s gonna bruise. Shit. Sorry, Henri.

“Or I swear to God I’ll kill you”

He’s dropped, lying flat on his back now with the wind knocked back out of him — Jesus, just give a guy a second to catch his breath. Tucker’s got his knees either side of his hips and his hands are back on his throat.

Cass feels himself laughing again. There’s blood in his mouth. Maybe he bit down on his tongue.

“Can’t beg if I can’t breathe,” he croaks out. 

“Can’t talk back either, you little shit”

His throat is already sensitive from earlier, a dull bruised kind of ache that releases and relents as it’s pressed into again. Like his throat knows it’s best served when a tightening grip is settled on it. 

The blackness crackles in almost instantly this time, darkening around the edges of his vision like a tide, accompanied with the rush of blood in his ears. He tips his head right back, closes his eyes. He has the passing thought that maybe he’s going to die like this. But that’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine. Because he’s not going back to Christopher. So if this is what dying is, he doesn’t mind.

As soon as he thinks it, the world comes swimming in again. 

“What is it gonna take, huh?” Tucker’s so close to Cass’ face he can feel his spit flecking onto his cheeks. It’s like getting beaten up just before the rain comes in. He’s always kinda liked that. A storm to wash the blood away. “Answer me!”

A blow to his stomach. And another. And another.

Cass feels like he’s floating, like he’s never existed outside of this second here and he never will again. Maybe he hasn’t. Maybe he won’t. 

“What’s it gonna take for you to fucking break?”

Cass grins up at Tucker, a swaying haze with three heads up above him, and lets out a laugh that bruises his throat from the inside out, “Why don’ we find out?”

[silvysartfulness]

3, 4, 10, 15

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Oh... There’s no “always” scene, what scenes get me going varies from story to story, fandom to fandom. On the whole, I’m not that scene-oriented - it is the set-up and context that really get me going? The scenes are just expressions of that! Sorry! XD

There are a whole bunch of scenes I’m looking forward to write, though! In the Roadtrip, I do hope my steam will keep going until I hit the really messy, rewarding parts where the characters actually really start connecting (and yes, that includes the sex!) Especially Xue Yang’s and Song Lan’s relationship has a lot of very juicy things to explore, emotionally and physically down the line - that’s the story bits my brain tends to disappear off to when contemplating future bits of this fic, at least at the moment! :D

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like) 

From the published chapters, I'm very happy with the “teacup” scene from chapter 6 of the Roadtrip! I find it poetic, and I like how it seemingly offers a respite from the turmoil of the ongoing scene - only to then double down and enhance the hurt of it. Causing readers pain can be beautiful. ♥

----

He had owned a little teacup, once, on the Mountain, a treasured delicate thing of white porcelain, and in a careless moment he had dropped it. It had still looked whole, but the next time he poured hot water into it, it had made a tinkling, almost musical sound, the water draining out of it as all the invisible cracks opened at once.

Even then it had still looked like a whole cup, only crackled, and it wasn't until he tried picking it up that it fell into a hundred pieces at his touch.

The roaring storm in his head had reached a crescendo so overwhelming it was almost bleeding into silence, and in that silence, he could hear his heart making that almost musical tinkling sound, shattered, all cracks breaking open at once.

----

From unpublished chapters, I very much like the following little snippet! Xue Yang isn’t one to consciously feel sorry for himself, he likes telling himself how heartless he is, that he can’t be hurt. Which is a blatant lie, and sometimes he just can’t help but wallow in self-pity. ♥

It has all the ingredients I like - there’s hurt, poetic phrasing, multiple vividly visual allegories:

----

There had been a hole in Xiao Xingchen's world after Baixue, ripped out of him to cause hurt - a dug-out trap he'd somehow, ironically, stupidly fallen into himself. A vacant space in Xiao Xingchen's life for him to occupy for a while, knowing that smile, that endless tenderness. He could see the gap close between them now, see it happen, himself forced out like unwanted water from near-drowned lungs.

It hurt.

----

10. How would you describe your writing process? 

“Frustration”..? Writing doesn’t come nearly as naturally to me as drawing, and unless I get lucky and catch a wave, it’s a constant struggle. Especially these days, when my brain has suffered enough burn-outs that I have genuine problems with memory, concentration and executive function.

But the process itself tends to go: Headcanon wildly -> decide that headcanons are interesting enough to make for decent fiction -> sketch a bit and flail about ideas to unsuspecting people to fix visions in mind -> write a very loose outline in separate document -> open word processor -> hope like fuck the characters will be willing to start talking -> trying to get it all to snowball and keep up steam until project is actually finished

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)? 

Tags. Tags fill me with dread. Tags feel like the bit where failure will bring purity antis or angry people in general down on my head, enraged, if I get it wrong. Tags give me the same undefined dread as filling in official forms (”What is your name?” I don’t know, I sob. I don’t know anything anymore!) I try?

Summaries are medium-hard, but I cheat and keep mine very short.

Titles, on the other hand, I love titles! For the Roadtrip, I’ve set up a challenge for myself that every chapter title should be able to be interpreted in at least two different ways, preferably more, with multiple layers of meanings and symbolism!

Like the “Sticks and Stones” chapter, for example, that starts very literally with Xue Yang fighting Song Lan with his pointy stick, ending up slammed down on the rocks - but it’s really about the very end of the chapter, and the implied “words can never hurt me” - ironically meant, since it’s Xue Yang’s words that almost kill Xiao Xingchen.

Same with “Poison In The Air” which both refers to the venom between all the characters at that point, and very literal corpse dust on the wind.

“Is it you?” of course paraphrases Xiao Xingchen’s question in Yi City, where he first says it after stabbing Song Lan through the chest, asking for Xue Yang to confirm that he’s alright. And then the same phrase when he’s on his knees, feeling Fuxue and realizing who the fierce corpse beside him is, and he says the same words, this time indicating Song Lan. In that chapter, he constantly sways back and forth in how he relates to them both, consciously leaving his questions undirected, to see which one of them will answer, a wordless “is it you?” aimed at them both.

“Reawakenings” alludes both to Xiao Xingchen regaining consciousness and him and Song Lan reconnecting, a reawakening of their affection (love) ending with them holding hands in sleep. “The Coffin House” is an evil red herring, that would seem to refer to Xue Yang’s and Xiao Xingchen’s past in Yi City, but where the final scene topples that perception on its head, grimly becoming something extremely literal.

Next chapter to be posted is called “Bitter Medicine”. Again to be interpreted both somewhat literally and figuratively. ♥

As for the whole fic itself, I wanted a title that 1: referred back to the Chinese origins of the Untamed, 2: something to do with roads and journeying, and 3: preferably something that captured the general air of the story I wanted to tell. I was very pleased to find the Chinese proverb I ended up using; 天堂有路你不走 地狱无门你闯进来: "Heaven has a road but no-one walks it - Hell has no gate, but men will dig to get there". 

It checks the first two boxes, and the sardonic irony of the whole quote fits these idiots and the way they’ve ended up hurting others but mostly themselves, and how they keep doing so inadvertently as they go along. They’re on the way to some sort of redemption, Heaven - but they’re making each others’ lives Hell as they go. They will get better at balancing things along the way, though - eventually. ♥

I could ramble about these metas forever, and I’m very very happy to have been given an excuse to do so! Thank you!! XD

There’s so much sneaky thought going into this story, and it’s a delight to actually be asked to talk about it! :D

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows IX

Chapter IX

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: On Wattpad –> Here

Series Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tap tap tap... Tap tap tapada tap...

I sighed, tired of looking at my computer. I resisted the urge to slam my head on the keyboard which could ruin the work I've been looking at for the past couple of hours. It's been two weeks since I've been cleared for active field duty, yet I haven't even been considered for a mission; I was getting restless. I've been training as much as possible and I was nearing the level I was before my... injury.

My boredom was bearable what I had some of the team check up on me, or if I had to deliver some file to the compound. Saying hi to them was usually the highlight of my day. The worst part was when they were on their own missions. Just the fact that I was cooped up in my office while they were out there made me feel even more caged. On those days I've found that more errands were handed to me, to keep me busy I guess, or I would spend even more time in the gym to get me back into action faster.

Today I could tell was not going to be enjoyable, I woke up grumpy, and no one had come to say hi to me yet. I was having a hard time focusing on my work and the minutes were ticking by slower than ever.

A knock came to the door and I sighed, maybe this would wake me up.

"Come in."

I turned in time to see Agent Fletcher enter my office, "Agent," he said with a nod.

"Sir," I replied seeing the files he had in his hand.

He wordlessly handed me the folder he had in his hand only for me to discover he had handed me two files.

"Two files this time..." I quickly tapped them together on my desk before looking up at Brian, "I'm assuming these are for the Avengers; I'll get these to them right away, sir."

"Actually," I could have almost sworn the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, "that top file is for you."

I looked at him and then the file puzzled, "what?" I opened the folder to see my name on the top, along with a briefing time. The papers behind had a bunch of information on a target area, only then did it really click. I raised my eyes to him with hope and questioning happiness, "really? Is, is this what I think it is?"

He gave a silent nod and I just smiled and tipped my head back against my chair, silently smiling at the ceiling. I sat up straight again, "thank you, sir."

"That other file has to go to the Avengers, so get on that," he said sternly pulling me down from my excitement.

I scrambled to my feet and snapped a salute, "yes, sir!" He exited my office leaving the door open for me to follow.

Before I left he popped his head back into my office, "Before you go," I turned back to him, "Fury needs to see you before you go through the mission."

I paused, suddenly nervous. "Me?"

He nodded and then hesitated a moment before asking, "would you like me to walk you down to his office?"

I took a deep breath, trying to see if he was being sincere. I couldn't find a reason to doubt him and decided to accept the offer with a nod.

We walked silently down the hall, stepping in time to each other, posture straight. We eventually got to his office, but I didn't go in right away. I stood at the door and took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

"Are you going to be okay in there?"

I appreciated how he seemed to understand how scary a man in power is to a woman. I turned my head slightly towards him as he stood behind me to show I acknowledged his statement. I nodded my head once and turned back towards the door. I quickly shook out my limbs releasing the tension in them.

"I'll be here waiting."

I smiled at him, "Thank you, sir."

I finally had the confidence to knock on the door, answered with a gruff, "come in!"

I respectfully entered the room and stood in front of his desk as he looked out the window behind it dramatically.

"Did you have a hard time getting here, Agent L/n?"

I was a little surprised at the question, "no, sir. Agent Fletcher accompanied me here."

He nodded, "he's a good agent."

"Yes, sir."

He finally turned to face me and gestured to a seat as he took his own. "I trust Agent Fletcher gave you your mission assignment before escorting you to my office?"

"Indeed he did, sir."

"Did you have time to look over it?"

"Only a glance."

He placed his hands fisted together on the desk between us and leaned towards me, "that brings us to what I wanted to talk to you about. Missions are important as I'm sure you already know."

I shifted in my seat to sit a little taller as I nodded my head.

"I would like for them to not get messed up for reasons of our own."

That's what made me start to sweat. Did he think I was going to mess up this mission?

"I don't want any unnecessary tension that puts the team in danger."

I nodded quickly and looked down at my lap; I felt like I was sitting through a lecture.

"I also don't want you to be scared of the assets you will be directing."

My eyes snapped up to his.

"I'm assuming you didn't get the chance to see exactly what your role will be or who you will be working with so I will just tell you."

My brain was having a hard time processing this whole situation, so I just blinked a couple of times waiting for him to continue.

"You will be on drone surveillance, you were doing good work there."

I smiled at the compliment.

"The Avengers will be under your care, which you have already handled, but what I'm worried about is that Loki will also be working the mission."

I felt conflicting relief and slight anxiety at what Fury was saying. I would have to watch over the Avengers which I was confident in doing, but also Loki of whom had caused me so much pain and grief. Realistically I knew I would do it just fine since after everything was explained the two of us hadn't had any confrontations, but it didn't stop the little voice in my head from questioning.

This is a whole new environment. Tensions are high, it's near life and death. This could be an opportunity to really hurt him. Show him what it's like to be under the power of someone you can't touch.

I shook my head slightly to clear it, focusing on Fury once more.

He looked at me for a moment before continuing, "Will his being there inhibit your ability to function?"

I took a moment to think before asking a question of my own, "what would be your course of action if I said yes?"

The constant pauses between each of our responses weren't being nice to my blood pressure, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. This stretch of silence was particularly worrisome after the question I asked.

"The two of you wouldn't be put on the same mission until you trust him to say otherwise, if at all."

I thought it was a reasonable answer and fair to me if he truly meant it and executed it accordingly. I already knew my answer to his question, but I just thought I would see his standpoint.

I sat still with a face I hope said confidence and answered him.

"How'd it go?"

I had forgotten that Brian waited for me to come out of Fury's office. I honestly felt lighter than when I had woken up this morning, so I was able to smile at him. "It went well. Now, I better get that file to the Avengers if it's all the same to you, sir."

"Of course."

He walked me back to my office and I left him with a smile to show I appreciated his support. I quickly picked up the Avengers' file and headed to the compound. I decided to give the file to Steve since he was probably the most responsible to get the information to the rest of the team. Jarvis lead me to the training room where I found the Captain beating a punching bag. I stood in a spot a little distance away, but still in his line of sight so he knew I was there without disturbing him.  After a minute or two, he took a water break and made his way over to me.

"Mr. Rogers--"

"Steve, you make me feel old when you say that."

I raised my eyebrow about to throw a jab at him before he caught his mistake.

"I know, I know, I'm a senior citizen, but that doesn't mean I have to feel it, gosh."

I let out a quick laugh and held out the file, "well, Steve, here's the file for the team's next mission."

"Thank you, Y/n," he quickly flipped through it, "how are you doing? Still cooped up in that office of yours?"

"At the moment I'm afraid."

Steve hummed and looked up at me without tilting his head, "don't worry, you'll be out there before you know it."

I smiled and turned on my heal, "much appreciated Captain, have fun on the rest of your workout!"

"See you Y/n!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day, another mission for the Avengers. They all had brave faces, but most had lingering feelings at the back of their heads. Clint was a bit bored and felt bad that they were going on another mission while Y/n was stuck in her office, not in the field. Natasha felt similar -- she knew how hard she had been working, only for her to still be stuck going nowhere. Steve understood how having physical ailments can hold someone back from what they really need and want to do, so he had the greatest sympathy for her. Tony knew that this mission was serious, every Hydra base taken down was an important step closer to taking the whole agency down, but he couldn't help wanting to just get it over with. He wished Y/n was there with a few witty remarks to keep him entertained.

Thor, on the other hand, couldn't wrap his head around why it was that much of a big deal. Of course, he felt bad that she was injured and was not able to go to battle, but with such a different outlook on time, the time taken to heal seems like nothing to him. Bruce didn't understand how anyone wanted to go out on one of these missions, so while he expressed sympathy to the injury and recovery, he didn't wish she was there. The only thing on Loki's mind was that he didn't want to come, but he knew he had to or else he would be locked up some way or another because he still wasn't trusted by the Midguardians.

With that in mind, they acknowledged the commanding Shield agents and boarded their Quinjet. These larger missions required a larger cargo capacity, so they usually split up into at least two vehicles: one for the Avengers and the others for Shield agents. The team spent most of the commute in silence or quiet chatting, living together didn't leave much to be talked about. About halfway through they received word to turn on comms for some last-minute instructions and equipment checks.

Everyone went through the checks half-heartedly mostly just going through the motions. If the agents on the other end noticed, they didn't comment.

Brian Fletcher was the agent in charge and was handing out the orders, "all right folks, we got a drone accompanied mission today so make sure you listen to her, got anything to add Agent?"

"Yeah," a familiar voice came through the comms causing everyone in the Quinjet to perk up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I couldn't help but smirk as I leaned back in my chair, looking at Brian, "don't be stupid and don't die."

There was a split second of silence that left Brian with a smirk that mirrored my own before I got the expected (and hoped) explosion of voices.

"Y/n?! Is that you?!"

"Welcome back!"

"Hey! There she is!"

"Yeeeeeeesssss!"

"Told ya you'd be back in it before you knew it."

"It's great to have you back, y/n"

I was smiling like a dork when one more voice came quietly into my ear, "I'm glad your recovery has been successful, Lady Y/n."

"That's a new title, thanks Loki. It's great to be back guys, and I'm serious! Don't be stupid, and don't die!"

The laughed, and I switched our comms line to a more private one where we could chat without all of the Shield agents be silent bystanders. I fiddled to get my display just right while I related the story of my assignment carefully leaving out the reason for Fury's concern for me being on this mission. The conversation mostly consisted of Clint, Tony, and me with an occasional comment from the others. The time flew by much faster than normal and suddenly we were nearing the target.

We landed and quickly got to work setting up all the equipment. I helped pull out the drones, and noticed Ike was checking them over.

"Hey Ike, are they lookin' okay?"

He looked up at me and with no emotion said, "ready for flight."

"Sweet, let's get them going then."

I did notice that after going over the manual and learning more about the mechanics was interesting as I could now mostly understand how they work. The drones were up in no time, and I linked them to the comms unit of each team leader.

My gut twisted slightly right before I heard the heavy footsteps and the hum of machinery behind me.

"If there's a scratch on this suit at the end of the day..."

I smiled and turned around to see Tony walking towards me. The rest of the Avengers weren't that far behind.

"You'll what?"

I glanced to see the rest of them smiling at the exchange, all either experienced or heard of the incident. Loki did not, however, seem to understand what was going on and rather seemed bored, but was listening anyway.

Tony couldn't help chuckle with a smirk, "I'll blow one of those drones of yours out of the sky."

"Not my money you're spending."

Thor, Clint, and Tony all roared with laughter and squeezed me into a hug. Natasha, Steve, and Bruce (now Hulk) all smiled in amusement in the background. Loki turned out, surprisingly, to split the difference, he stayed back, but he had a grin and a laugh at the quip against Tony.

"All right! All right! Let's get going! The longer we take the more work we've got to do!"

They all set off to their positions and I left to mine in the jet. I sat down and made sure all the feeds were online before I allowed myself to get into game mode. Watching each team advance on the Hydra base, it felt like I had never left.

The mission played out much like the ones before it, I would notify each group of enemy snipers, patrols, or other threatening objects. That was until the Avengers, the leading group, ran into a large barricade of Hydra opposition. I, of course, warned them beforehand, but it didn't change how hard of a fight it ended up being. The Shield agent teams slowly eased themselves around and behind the Hydra agents and even had to open another front. The Avengers were split up, unfortunately, but they're strong enough to hold their own separately.

I didn't worry about the Hulk, he was taking out the large weaponry with ease. Clint got up into a tree without me noticing and was shooting down soldiers and snipers alike, I occasionally had to inform him of one or two more that had him in their sights, but other than that he had himself covered. Natasha was watching Steve's back, and he was watching hers, they were in the heat of battle and didn't have to worry about anything except in their immediate vicinity which they were already aware of. Thor and Tony were wreaking havoc from the air and with the Hulk taking out all of their large weaponry including air defenses they didn't have an important enough target on their back.

Loki was a unique case, he was on his own, and it wasn't even close to a fair match. I couldn't even count how many men were surrounding him, all armed with advanced weaponry. They had drawn him far away from any help, not that anyone was available to give it. The drone obviously didn't give me a perfect perspective, but from what I could see, they all were nearly as tall as Loki was. Their dark and thick uniforms were nothing but menacing, masks designed to terrify. they had guns as tall as I was, evidence of what kind of damage they could do was evident in the trees surrounding the battle. The bark was scorched if it was even there at all. Some of the trees I questioned how they were even still standing as much was blown to splinters. They surrounded Loki on all sides, walls of bulk that guaranteed pain.

I almost felt bad for them.

Loki was tearing them to shreds, various weapons used. Knives lined with a green sheen that suggested magic, each stroke a death blow. Wisps of magic would extend and cause more damage, sometimes he would disappear entirely. It really was a sight to behold and I had to make sure I didn't get distracted at how graceful, deadly, and just plain cool it was.

He seemed to be taking care of himself just fine, so I was about to move on to check on everyone else when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. It was a lone sniper in a tree and his gun was aimed at Loki. He was out of range and sight from Clint from what I could tell and besides that everyone else was occupied. I was about to warn him when I hesitated. Those thoughts from before arose again.

He hurt you so badly. He's the equivalent of a god he won't die. Give him a little taste of his own medicine. You have power over him today, don't let it go to waste.

I'm ashamed to say that I didn't feel all that guilty in thinking them.

Being trained in firearms myself, I knew exactly what steps he was taking. He would be steadying his barrel carefully. He would adjust his support slightly, making sure the branch or stand wouldn't bounce and get in the way. I knew he was surrounded by my own men, distracted, and relatively stuck in one spot. My sights would be placed in the average area he was moving, aimed as high as his neck. His helmet could cause problems in killing him quickly, besides, a throat shot works just as well. My breathing is controlled, steady. My finger slowly switches the safety off, now I wait for just the right moment. There's no rush.

I have all the time in the world.

Time slows as fraction by fraction my finger twitches closer and closer to my fist. It moves the trigger smoothly, and with how light my trigger is, he'll be dead in less than a moment. Not even that, I just have to make sure I don't blink.

"Loki, you've got a sniper on your 5 o'clock. Southeast."

I watch as a green shield appears behind him, not even a fraction of a second after I see the muzzle flash from the sniper. I small ripple or spark appears on his shield right as I predicted, just below his helmet. I saw his arm swing around through his shield and then he continued fighting the band around him, though they were beginning to dwindle. The sniper I kept my eye on for him eased forward on his gun, eventually falling limp from the tree. How exactly he died I didn't know.

"Thank you, my dear"

"Of course Your Highness."

I went along watching out for the rest of the teams, occasionally picking up on something they missed, but I was really thinking about my actions.

That's when I came to the conclusion that I had forgiven him.

Tags: @nightrose64

[honeyjaez]

Maze of Miroh- Chapter 15: “Virus B1H7″

Dowoon eyes widened and quickly snatched up the canister in his hand. Minho looked down to notice the older boys hand shaking as he traced the length of the container, a far off look in his eyes.

“Dowoon…do you know what this is?”

Time seemed to move suddenly slower as the young researcher raised his head from the canister eyes wide with dismay.

“I do…and it’s nothing good.”

 “What do you mean it’s nothing good?” Woojin’s face betrayed a look of worry that was beginning to form. When Dowoon didn’t respond at first, Woojin took a step forward, his eyes darkening slightly as he spoke with intensity “Dowoon….what exactly is this?”

Seeming to snap out of his daze, Dowoon’s eyes flashed up from the canister and locked eyes with Woojin briefly before passing on Minho’s own and finally landing on Jisungs’. The whole room held their breath, suddenly feeling an intense sense of pressure from the older man. Dowoon stared so harshly at Jisung, like he was trying to convey something in just his eyes but if he was, Jisung wasn’t getting it. After a few more tense moments, he let out a long, tired sigh and motioned for the three of them to follow him.

All three boys shared a look between each other before ultimately following. They were led to a set of stairs leading down to what Minho could only call a basement. It was damp and cold from the various cracks in the walls but from all the half empty coffee mugs littered around, Minho knew right away that it was the most used room in the house.

Jisung let out a whistle and Minho turned his head to see a large metal machine in the middle of the room.

Without hesitating, Dowoon took the canister in his hand and tossed it into a slot on the machine. Suddenly a holographic image shot out from the base of the machine, lighting up the whole room. Minho jumped back in shock but quickly recovered himself but not before he heard Jisung giggle quietly.

Dowoon stood at the machine, leaning his whole weight as if a heavy burden weighed him down. Finally he looked back up and stared directly at Jisung.

“You are right in thinking this is some biological weapon created by The Order… but it doesn’t attack and destroy the body in the way you might think a normal virus does….”

The elder trailed off, letting his head fall again, but before he could hide again, Minho caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes. Now he didn’t know much about this Dowoon guy, but he knew a painful memory when he saw one, and he definitely saw one passing through the scientists own eyes.

Dowoon shook his head, like he was trying to shake the last of whatever memory passed through him. “I don’t know where to begin…”

Woojin took a few strides forward until he was next to the man and laid a comforting hand on his  shoulder. “Try from the beginning.”

This seemed to work on the elder boy, because he nodded slightly and looked back up, eyes locking with Jisung.

“Its name is B1H7…and it’s what my team was investigating before The Order killed them.”

Minho noticed movement from Jisung and looked over to see youngest tense up, his eyes growing wide.

Minho suddenly realized the deeper meaning behind Dowoon’s words.

This thing…whatever it was, was ultimately what led the previous team, Sungjin’s team- Jisung’s and Seungmins brothers to death.

“As for its effectiveness” Dowoon continued “Let just say, if it gets out….  No one, and I mean no one will be safe……it will be devastating to not only Spector, but the world itself.”

But Woojin was no longer looking at the scientist, his gaze now staying on Jisung’s frozen form, eyes narrowing slightly. “Jisung? You knew about this the whole time?”

His voice echoed a tone of betrayal and Jisung must have sensed it too because he quickly snapped out of it and shook his head violently. “I knew the name….” his voice was so small and quiet “but I didn’t know that what we stole….and I still don’t know what it does….”

Dowoon let out another sigh and nodded “I figured Younghyun must have told you….” He looked at Woojin who now stood off next to himself and pushed up his glasses, turning back to the holographic projection.

“B1H7 is a behavioral virus.” He went on to explain. “Unlike most viruses that attack the body’s cells and destroys it, this strain goes for the brain….I don’t know exactly how it does this biologically, Younghyun never figured it out,  but it goes for the part of the brain that stores your functionality….. Makes you do things…  forces your body to act more or so less against your will.”

Right then and there, Minho knew exactly what it was that Chan had him steal from the factory.

“Like mind control…” he murmured in horror

Dowoon nodded in confirmation towards Minho, taking a step away from a shocked Jisung. “We didn’t know who created the strain but we knew we couldn’t let The Order use it. If we did, it could mean The Order’s complete victory. We as of right now still have the freedom to choose. The freedom to fight. We have the freedom to make the decision in the end. The second that is taken away is the exact moment we’ve have lost the battle.”

“With all due respect Dowoon” Woojin spoke up from the side, his voice grim “How do you know that’s exactly what the strain does?”

The elder let out a small laugh, shaking his head “I must admit, we too were all skeptical about the strains effects. But during one of our infiltration mission where we tried to steal the strain, I made a mistake and a few of us were caught.” He told with a small laugh as if reminiscing the old times. “The Order used us as testing dummies and I had the misfortune to watch as Jae and Younghyun went at each other’s throats and not in their normally playful way.”

“Okay” Woojin mused, a hand under his chin in deep thought. “So say it is a mind control virus. What can we do about this?”

“Younghyun and I were close on working on a vaccine” Dowoon explained “But before we could finish it he was killed.”

Minho eyes went to Jisung’s face who was hiding his eyes behind his hair. He noticed the smaller boys hands tensed up in tighten fists but made no noise like he was listening.

“I thought we had destroyed enough of this strain that The Order would have given up.” He pulled out the canister and held it tightly in his hands “But seeing this now, I understand The Order was always one step ahead of us…”

“This is bad” Woojin murmured quietly “We need to get back to the others now… we need to let them know what it is we are facing…”

“But Chan is still here and unconscious” Minho objected.

“And sadly you guys really should not be roaming around the tunnels at this time.” Dowoon agreed “Can you call Seungmin?” he offered.

Woojin shook his head, a look of annoyance on his face. “Seonghwa swiped my phone off of me when he found us”.

Dowoon nodded grimly “And sadly our phones don’t reach the surface…”

Woojin quickly shook himself, taking strides towards the stairs.

“Chan is the only one with a working phone now….lets hope Zico isn’t stupid enough to take that away from him…”

“Well that settles it…” Jisung finally spoke up, snapping himself back into the conversation with a new sense of fire “Let’s go to Chan.”

The party made their way upstairs in back into the Livingroom.

“Will they let us just walk around freely?” Minho pipped up.

“No…”

“Looks like you won’t have to” Dowoon spoke up, motioning towards the now opened door. Minho followed his gaze and saw with a sense of relief, Hongjoong sitting at the base of Dowoon’s stairs outside, leaning back. He seemed to feel the gaze of others and turned his head slightly to lock eyes with them.

“Ahh just in time” the red haired boy lazily said out loud “I didn’t want to eavesdrop on your conversation so I waited out here for you all.”

“Hongjoong” Woojin said, smiling “What are you still doing here?”

“I just got back from talking to Yunho and as I was leaving, Chan woke up so I came by to bring you all to him.”

“Let’s go!” Woojin exclaimed, rushing out. Jisung gave Minho a half amused, half quiet look and followed their hyung. Minho took a step to follow.

Minho wait!” Dowoon suddenly grabbed his arm, stopping him in a frenzy. He looked up at the older boy, face confused

“What is it?”

Dowoon seemed unable to speak for a few moments, looking at his feet. Finally he snapped his head up and locked eyes with Minho, a look of quiet desperation on his face. “I know Jisung….and I especially know Chan” he started “Chan won’t ever admit to it, but even now he longs to avenge Sungjin and the others.”

Minho tilted his head slightly, puzzled. “Is that such a bad thing?”.

Dowoon smiled sadly and shook his head slightly “Not at all. But he needs to keep a level head about this. I know this strain is dangerous, and I know Chan will do ever thing in his power to save the people of Spector…..But if he rushes into this just like Sungjin did, then your team will share the same fate as mine…. Please…” his voice broke “Don’t let them share the same fate as my brothers…”

Dowoon’s words waivered at the end and Minho swiftly reconncected his brain to who was standing in front of him.

Minho had heard wonderful stories of Sungjin’s admirable team from the others. He might not remember them, but he had come to learn just how important they were to his members. At what the team was able to accomplish and how they were tragically murdered by The Order in a public execution. This wasn’t just a friend of Chan. Dowoon was also someone who also fought the fight against the Order and lost more than he could ever bare.

What does that feel like?

Minho found himself thinking in Dowoon’s shoes and how it must have felt, how it feels to lose as much as he did.

He already lost Hyunjae and Jeongwoo which was enough to put Minho in a relentless cycle of pain, but what about the others? How would he feel if he lost any them…or all of them?

While he still had a long ways to go with the other members, he knew he had begun to form close relationships within. Felix, and Hyunjin for example.  

Chan?

Minho couldn’t explain it, but in the short amount of time since he joined the crew he felt an intense feeling of protectiveness over the older boy.

Maybe it was because of his late night chats with the boy he had become fond of. Maybe it was his never-ending dedication to his dream. Chan burned so brightly that it was almost hard to see at what it was he was seeing. A better world.

Whatever it was, Minho knew that losing Chan was not an option. No matter what. The rest of them could die, but Chan needed to stay alive. The world needed more people like him.

But that brought Minho to one last person in his mind.

Jisung

What would he do if Jisung died? Sure they got off to a really bad start, and let’s face it, they still had a long ways to go…but Minho found himself oddly connected to Jisung. So much so that the very thought of losing him had him clenching in fear.

He found himself thinking back to that fateful day when they went to rescue Jeongwoo. Jisung was mad at him for endangering the lives of his members for Jeongwoo.

Minho had gone frozen stiff during Jisung’s rant, but noticed that tears were flowing down the younger’s face as he yelled, almost as if the words he was saying hurt him too. Jisung knew this but made no attempt to hide it. “He isn’t worth them!” he managed to choke out.  

Minho was finally starting to understand just what Jisung meant by that.

“I would never be able to face the others but especially Younghyun and Wonpil if I let their little brothers share the same fate as them.” He said it with such deep convictions that Minho could only nod his head awkwardly, eyes wide.

“I promise Dowoon” he managed to choke out “I’ll take care of them…”

Dowoon seemed to accept this answer and quickly let the younger boy go before following quickly behind.

 Back At Headquarters

 “Felix!” Changbin yelled as he opened the door to the practice room. Chan and the others left nearly twelve hours ago and still had heard no word from the team. Changbin could feel his anxiety raising with every minute that went by without word from them and knew the rest of the team was feeling it as well.

They all had their own ways of dealing with anxiety. Changbin himself would calm himself by cleaning his guns. Seungmin had chess. Hyunjin was still in the lab, trying to figure out exactly what the strain did with Innie helping him.

The only person Changbin hadn’t seen for a while Felix who was supposed to be resting his leg but was nowhere to be found. Finally as a last ditch effort he came to the practice room to see if the infuriating energy filled boy was practicing despite Woojin’s wishes.

But as he opened the door, expecting to see him, he was meet with an empty room.

Changbin’s stomach churned with disappointment and even more anxiety as he realized the younger boy was nowhere to be found.

Where is the idiot?

He knew there was only one person to ask. One person who knew everything,

“Innie!” he yelled, barging into the lab. He was off to Hyunjin’s side trying hard not to break the beaker in his hand.  At the sound of the grizzly voice, Jeongin jumped, nearly dropping the beaker.

“Wha- Hey Changbin! Don’t scare me like that!” the youngest snapped “I nearly dropped this acid on Hyunjin hyung!”

Changbin muttered a somewhat apology before walking further in. “Have either of you seen Felix? I can’t find him anywhere”

“And why do you think I saw him last?” Jeongin huffed

“Because you and Felix are always getting into some sort of trouble”

“Am not!” Jeongin argued

“Innie please” Hyunjin spoke up for the first time, not taking his eyes off the slide “We know Felix has been sneaking you outside for the past year”

This piece of information caught Jeongin off guard but he quickly recovered and crossed his arms, sticking out a tongue in defiance

“Well he wouldn’t have to sneak me out if you guys would just let me go outside like the rest of you”

“You know why we can’t do that Innie” Hyunjin warned

“I know I know.” Jeongin raised his arms in surrender “But in all honesty I haven’t seen him for a few hours. Ask Seungminnie hyung, he was the last person to see Felix.”

Changbin growled in frustration but turned around and headed for the once place he knew the four eyes bastard would be. Walking into the quiet room, Changbin saw Seungmins small form on the chair in the corner staring intently on his one person chess game. Even from here, Changbin could tell Seungmin wasn’t in a playful mood and he swallowed the small amount of fear that he felt and made his way over to him.

“Seungmin” Changbin called out. The boy in question didn’t take his eyes off of his chest game but hummed quietly in response, letting him know he was listening.

“Have you seen Felix?” he started. “Innie says you were the last person who saw him.”

“Yeah” he hummed out “I sent him out a few hours ago.”

Changbin froze

He what?

“What did you just say?” Changbin asked, voice getting dangerously dark “Like out as in outside?!”

“Of course like outside.” Seungmin scoffed, acting like Changbin’s question was idiotic.   “Where else would I mean?”

“Seungmin” Changbin said very slowly “and I mean this with all the love I actually have for you and that big brain of yours…….. ARE YOU AN IDIOT?!”

Changbin was fuming “You send Felix outside?! With a still recovering gunshot wound?! I thought we all agreed that Felix was getting too noticed by The Order and that he needed to lay low for a bit?!”

Seungmin sighed in exasperation, finally taking his eyes away from his game. “He is a trained assassin. What use is he if he gets noticed by the enemy?”

Changbin honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He began pacing back and forth as he tried to control his anger.

“I swear to god Seungmin, when Chan gets ba-“

“Chan isn’t back.” Seungmin interrupted again “In fact we don’t know if Chan will be back. Or Woojin, or Jisung or even Minho for that matter.” He growled “The fact of the matter is Chan left me in charge, and there’s something I needed to get checked out… Ever since that day in the factory when Minho got shot there is something that doesn’t sit quite right with me. Something we haven’t noticed yet.” He explained.

“Chan feels it too…” he continued to explain “We need to figure out what it is we are missing in The Orders plan before it kills us just like my brother and the others.” He pushed passed Changbin roughly, clearly done with his game of chess and headed towards the meeting room “If Felix ends up dead or captured on this errand I sent him on then you have full reign to kill me later. But have a little faith in him hyung.”

And just like that, the cherry red head disappeared, leaving a frustrated and panicking Changbin alone in the room. Time felt frozen for a few moments longer before the young gunman suddenly bolted into movement, grabbing his jacket from the chair nearby and rushing out of the door.

As he exited the hideout, he began heading down the dimly lit stairs and passed the fake office spaces. He roughly pushed the door that led outside open and almost staggered backwards as he was met face to face with the one face he most desperately wanted to see and beat at the same time.

Lee Felix.

Felix infuriated Changbin in so many ways, both similar and differently than the rest of their other members. He was always so loud, and full of energy which when put together with Changbin’s own quiet and introvert personality makes for some awkward conversations. But other than that the younger boy was too reckless. Before Minho joined, Felix was the newest addition to the team and Changbin still hadn’t figured him out. He had been with the team for over a year now and yet there still knew nothing of the younger boys past or where he came from. But on top of that, he had no concept of danger and constantly puts himself in harm’s way because he prefers to work alone. The only saving grace in that is it doesn’t endanger the other members….but that didn’t necessarily help Changbin. The worst part in all this is for some reason, Changbin lets him get away with it all. He was crazily dangerous, but with one of the sweetest smiles on the planet.  He will come home covered in blood, both the enemies and his own and Changbin would ready to rip the younger apart but when the ginger haired boy would give him these sad puppy dog looking eyes, suddenly Changbin acts like it wasn’t his fault…when it so clearly was.

“Changbin!” the younger exclaimed, his soft brown eyes wide with genuine surprise.

For Changbin, it was all infuriating.

“What are you doing here?” the younger asked, looking up the shorter male up and down. Changbin quickly tried to think of something harsh to say, and bit his tongue at sighing in relief seeing the younger boy okay.

“What am I doing here?!” Changbin hissed out “ I swear to god Lee Felix if your job is to give me a heart attack every 5 seconds then you are doing a perfect job! What are you doing outside?!”

“But Seungminni-“

“I don’t care what four-eyes said!” he hissed “You could have gotten hurt, or captured, or or-“ he was rambling now, unable to stop himself from thinking of all the horrible things that could have happened to the boy.

Felix continued to stare at Changbin as he ranted before quickly catching on and giving the shorter boy a wide grin. “Ohhhh I get it” he said with a cheeky smile “You were worried about me.”

Changbin swiftly felt his face flush, feeling caught and he quickly pulled himself back and lifting his noise in disdain.  “Get the wax out of your ears idiot” he hissed harshly “I was only worried because you are our best fighter and losing you would be deter-Wha!“

Changbin’s words were cut off as Felix suddenly grabbed a hold of his hand and was pulled down the steps and onto the barren streets. Changbin, still in a mild state of shock, allowed the younger to pull him a few more blocks until they came down to the nearby river the flowed through Spector. It was nearly sundown and the sky was now cast in beautiful pinks and oranges. The light reflected off the river water in a way that Changbin could almost call it stunning.

Felix led them to the small bridge that crossed over and slowed down once they met the mid-way point. Changbin was acutely aware of his hand still holding Felix’s. Somehow along the run, Felix had interlocked their fingers together and suddenly all Changbin could think about was how small and soft his hands were in his. He would rather die than admit this out loud, but he didn’t want to move his hand away.

And infuriatingly neither does Felix. Great…. Just great. He silently cursed the boy next to him until movement in the corner of his eyes made his head snapped over and his instincts kick in.  

But to his embarrassment, on the other side of the bridge was just another couple taking a casual stroll, the man holding an umbrella over them both. It wasn’t raining, but Changbin isn’t one to pry…they probably like their privacy. And Felix didn’t seemed too concerned with them either. If they meant us harm, Felix’s assassin instincts would kick in almost immediately.

Still…this wasn’t a good idea.

“Felix…” Changbin murmured out, turning back to the taller boy who was staring dreamily at the sunset “It isn’t safe right now” he urged softly “We should go back-“

“It’s just like home…” he whispered wistfully.

This caught Changbin off guard and he found himself blinking like an idiot at him. “W-Wha?”

Felix didn’t take his eyes off the landscape in front of him, but quickly smiled warmly in amusement. “The sunset.” he went on to explain “ The colors….the water….It looked just like this back home….”

Changbin’s brained worked fast, trying to think of something intelligent or thoughtful to say but annoyingly found himself drawing blanks. Just don’t say anything mean Changbin for the love of god.

“Psh! It’s just a sunset….it’s like this everywhere else” he scoffed harshly.

God Dammit Changbin. I hate you.

But if Felix was hurt by Changbin’s own bluntness, he showed no signs. If anything his smile got wider.

“Nonsense” he said “Life is made up of a bunch of little moments like these. Staring at a gorgeous sky. It makes me think back to home… the sun setting past the mountains, casting dancing lights on the lake below….”

Felix’s trialed off, his voice full of longing and his eyes filled with past memories “Sometimes I just miss it….you know?”

Without even thinking about it, Changbin quickly squeezed Felix’s hand in a sense of comfort. He turned his own eyes towards the down casting sky and nodded in silent agreement.

“I can’t say I do Felix. I grew up my entire life in this shit hole”

The older boy paused, a fleeting memory pass through him.

“…But I hope that one day I might.”

Changbin felt Felix tense up in his hands and he mentally smirked in triumph but victory was short lived as Felix quickly spun around to look him in the eye. As Changbin caught Felix’s eye, he sucked in air a little too quickly and forced himself not to cough out in spurts.

The way Felix was standing and how his head was turned caused the lights coming from the sun set to hit him in a way that made Changbin’s brain melt for the first time. His soft brown eyes glowed almost gold in the orange hues and all Changbin could do was stare in awe at the beautiful creature in front of him.

Stupid, infuriating beautiful Felix

“This is a moment in itself Changbin.” Felix said softly “Remember it”

Forget it Changbin. Forget it right now.

“A-Ah” he nodded

Idiot

Felix didn’t seem to notice his hyung’s internal struggle and looked back up to the sky, noticing its darkening. “We should head back. It’s not safe out here.”

This snapped the older boy out of his daze and he quickly rounded on the younger. “I’ve been saying that this whole time idiot!” he hissed in annoyance. Felix remained unbothered and laughed even at the smaller boy’s anger, running forward and disconnecting their hands.  “Hey Changbin?” he called back.

“What?” he muttered, unable to look the boy in the eye from pure embarrassment, but he could just tell from the tone in his voice that he was giving him a wide, toothy grin.

“Thanks for worrying about me.”

 The two ran back towards the base unaware at the two pairs of eyes following them as they went. The sweet, beautiful couple that Changbin noticed removed the umbrella from their heads, revealing their faces.

“Is that him?” the woman asked.

“Is it” the man confirmed, eyes following the gingers retreating body. “Lee Felix. An assassin who trained in the Hatgan Mountain’s.”

“There are no records anywhere of a Felix” the woman commented, pushing her way towards to where Changbin and Felix had just been.

“No” the young man agreed “There wouldn’t be. But that’s definitely him. I would know”

“Hmph!” the woman scoffed “Well what do we do now? You are in fact the key player here in the President’s plan Hyunjae….” The woman spoke with a mild tone of disgust towards him but Hyunjae ignored her and continued to stare at Felix’s receding figure, his brown eyes narrowing in thought.

“No Soyeon…that’s where you are wrong. Someone else still has yet to play their hand in this game”

     The Under

Their walk (or run) back to the infirmary was much faster this time, though he did get quite a chuckle at Jisung’s reaction to running up the stairs.

“I’m…better…with.speed and..s-strength..not..e-.endurance you ass-hole” he had puffed while on the ground. Minho smirked cockily at the boy and offered a hand to help him up which he gladly took.

“Whatever you say…Princess”

After that, the rest of the walk was spent hiding behind Woojin as to avoid Jisung’s deadly blows.

Eventually they made it back to the medical tent and Minho was relieved when they were allowed to enter this time. Woojin shot through the door almost immediately after they were granted access with Minho, Jisung, Dowoon and Hongjoong following a bit slower.

Inside, Minho saw dozens of beds laid in a row full of the sick an injured, numerous patients began coughing up a storm and sweating profusely.

There must be a flu going around…

t the very end of their row was where Minho saw Chan, bandaged up, but awake  nonetheless and sitting up. He let out a long sigh that had been building up since he saw the boy knocked unconscious and he made his way over, Woojin already at Chan’s side.

“-I’m so sorry Chan!” the elder boy nearly cried, holding onto his friends hand “If I had just seen the rock then I could hav-“

He was caught off when Chan took his own hand to Woojin’s mouth, covering him in silence.

“Woojin… I would gladly give my life for you….for any of you” he added as Minho and Jisung made their way up closer.

Jisung quickly took Chans other bedside and Minho noticed his eyes were dark, glistening with silent tears. He clutched Chan’s hand so tightly that Minho noticed his arm was shaking. Chan turned away from Woojin and smiled down at Jisung’s shaking figure.

“I’m sorry Sungie…” Minho hear Chan murmur quietly “I worried you…”

Jisung shook his head violent from side to side, wiping his nose quickly “You aren’t allowed to die Bang Chan. Do you understand me?” he sniffed

Chan smiled sweetly and nodded a single time at the younger boy’s requests. He then turned and looked up from Jisung to make eye contact with Minho who suddenly felt rather embarrassed.

“Thank you for taking care of them Minho.”

His worlds caught Minho off guard and he was unable to look at Chan’s proud and grateful look, choosing to instead look at the ground.

“I-It was nothing.” He stuttered.

“Ahh” a new voice chimed in “So this is the famous Minho.”

All heads turned and looked to see a handsome stranger rolling his way over to them. He had the fluffiest brown hair he had ever seen with brown eyes to match. Minho could only guess he was about their age from his height but even that was a guess due to the fact that he was in a wheelchair, physically impaired.

“How do you know my name?” Minho asked, not used to the attention he was suddenly getting from strangers knowing his name.

The young man rolled his way over until he sat next to Hongjoong, a wide smile on his face. “Zico told us. We wanted to know who it was that put San in such a state.”

Minho’s eyes blew wide and a familiar wave of guilt crashed over him “O-Oh…”

What does one say in this situation?

The young man must have noticed his awkward stance and waved a hand in submission.

“Don’t worry. I’m not Seonghwa. Being the doctor here I know that nine times out of ten San deserves it. Besides-” he added with a wink “You’ll get enough grief from Wooyoung that I can save my breath.”

“Yunho” Woojin suddenly breathed, coming up from behind. The brown haired boy caught a glimpse of his hyung and his face broke out in an even bigger smile. He left Hongjoong and quickly made his way to Woojin, who met him half way. The two young men clasped their hands together and remained unmoving for a few moments, just taking in each other’s appearance.

“Everyone” the handsome doctor called out “This is Yunho. One of the smartest doctors I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”

Hongjoong looked over with a sense of pride on his face and Minho remembered that he mentioned Yunho was part of Hongjoongs own group.

“It’s good to see you Hyung” Yunho said, smiling.

“And you Yunho” Woojin mused “I’m sorry for leaving just like that I-“

Yunho waved a hand in the air, silencing him “I understand hyung” he confessed “It’s sad I couldn’t come with you, but you couldn’t have smuggled all of us out without retaliation from Zico.”

“Still” Woojin grumbled “I should have at least tried…”

Yunho took his hand that was in the air and quickly slapped the elder boy on the arm and moved away to look at the others. “And you would have been killed. Now-” he continued on “Chan, if you are able to walk, then I must politely ask you to get the hell out because as you can see, I’m not short of work.”

His words were harsh, but Minho caught a glimpse of playfulness in the younger man’s eyes. Chan gave out a hearty laugh and nodded, pulling out the sheets from below him.

“Yunho don’t work too hard.” Hongjoong called out, holding open the door. Minho watched as Yunho bent down to observe a patient withering in pain, not even bothering to look at Hongjoong as he spoke.

“We will have more time to talk tonight. Now leave!” he shooed away.

The party headed back outside the tent, Chan and Dowoon deep in conversation as the caught up with one another.

“Now-“ Chan suddenly called back, breaking away from his private conversation with Dowoon. “What did I miss?”

In the corner of his eye, Minho noticed Woojin shaking his head slightly. He doesn’t hesitate getting back into it.

“Did you guys figure out what the virus does?” he questioned when no one answered him. As if on que, an intense amount of pressure weighed down on the team, their brief moment of happiness dispersing with the remembrance of the treat the loomed over them.

“Chan” Woojin spoke up, voice grave “We have a problem…”

Chan groaned out loud “What else is new… okay tell me.”

“The virus is a behavioral virus” Jisung spoke first. “It attacks the brain and forces people to do things or say things against their will.”  

Chan’s eyes widened with alarm “So it’s a form of mind control?”

“That it is” Dowoon interjected “We were investigating it right before the others were killed…. We don’t know who created it, but we know it is something The Order has been working on for years.” He explained “It is a means to an end.”

Chan’s expression didn’t change but he placed a hand on his face, in deep thought. His gaze latched onto Dowoon’s, “How close were you guy to a vaccine?”

Dowoon shook his head, eyes sad “I’m sorry Chan, all the information we had on a possible vaccine was lost when they killed Younghyun…”

Chan went quiet, obviously trying too hard to think of a solution. But was there any point? It felt pretty hopeless in their current situation, and unless by some miracle they happened to come across a possible vaccine, there was no guarantee of its success.

And even if it did, how can they administer it across the whole city without getting caught?

Finally Chan snapped his fingers in excitement. “Jisung. Do you still have your brother’s old computer?”

Jisung looked at him, somewhat puzzled “Wha…err…I mean yes I do hyung but I already went through all his files after he died and I can confidently say I saw nothing about a virus nor a vaccine in his notes.”

“Yes and you are our genius hacker so I trust you.” He responded “But who was the one person on this earth smarter at hacking than you? Who had access to your brother’s files?”

Realization struck Jisung at what Chan was trying to say and suddenly his own eyes got wide “Wonpil hyung….”

Chan nodded, “Wonpil wasn’t just a Miracle blessed with super human engineering. Wonpil was also the fastest and smartest hacker in the city who trained you on everything you know!”

“Are you suggesting Wonpil hid the files away so that no one other than himself could get a hold of it?” Woojin asked.

Chan nodded.

“It would make sense” Dowoon spoke up “Wonpil for all that he was, was super smart when it came to stuff like this…..”

“But say the file does exists” Woojin challenged “  If he made it so that no one but himself knew where it was then how are we supposed to get it?”

Chan’s eyes landed back onto Jisung who was quiet, eyes narrowed as he thought hard. “Well it just means Jisung will finally have to surpass his master…” He turned to look at Woojin who seemed skeptical, and Minho who just seemed lost “Look, I know it is not the answer we were hoping for….but it is a start.”

“I agree with Chan” Hongjoong spoke up from the side, entering the conversation for the first time. When he felt a bunch of eyes on him he quickly shrugged, taking a step away from them.  “I don’t know what exactly it is you all are talking about, but it sounds to me like Chan has the best laid out plan for right now. You guys are smart, I’m sure you can figure out a way…”

“Thank you Hongjoong”  Chan thanked earnestly.

“Chan,” Jisung spoke up “We NEED to get back. I was nowhere close to cracking Wonpil’s system before, if this is the plan we go with, I need to start right away on Younghyun’s computer.”

“I know Jisungie…” Chan sympathized

“We also need to call Seungmin and tell him what we’ve learned.” Woojin added. “Chan, I lost my phone in the rubble, do you have yours?”

Chan reached for inside his pocket and frowned when he pulled them out with nothing in them.  “Mine must have fallen out in the collapse too….”

“Great” Woojin grumbled “Just Great.”

“Nothing you can do about it now” Hongjoong muttered passed “It’s getting dark and leaving now is not an option…. You can stay with us in the meantime. Leave in the morning…”

“Besides” Hongjoong added with a small smirk towards Minho “I’m sure the others will want to meet you as well”

Minho gulped.

This was going to be a long night

As Always. Likes and reblogs are much appreciated. Let me know what you think of the story so far and hit me up for questions or suggestions :) 

[cheesecaketyrant]

Hello all! I would like to take the time to say; Thank you to: (Unfortunately I can't tag them! But they are known as shockwavefan and as well Soundwave - I'm not sure if I do have them on Tumbler or not!) @artsy-archangel @zen-drift! Y'all are amazing!

Now, I tried to clean it as best to my abilities in the form of RP format.

I did realize that for the cover is not quite accurate. But that's okay! (There were few mistakes in the last post; Shockwave was the one who killed Megatron, not Optimus Prime)

I'll be posting these as Chapters and Parts. Anywho I'm sure some of y'all been waiting for the next post- so.. here!

Oh boy, this starting to look quite interesting!

Chapter:1- All Hail Shockwave

(Part:1-2)

--------

Shockwave saw that his people were cheering, he looked at his experiment, no one could read Shockwaves mind. Not even those who have worked closely with him for years know. He walked down the steps, his metallic feet hitting the ground with each step.

After a few hours since he had left the stage, he was underground. Shockwave was once again his old self, the senator long ago was gone; the leader they know now is fake. He became leader as a way to have access to more tools. On the table lied a Cybertronian, a Decepticon, he screamed in agony but they never reached their destination. After enough energon had leaked the victim stopped screaming. Behind Shockwave were multiple dripping bodies of Decepticons hanging upside down. Shockwave, the terror which spread through the Autobot army was back, only he wasn't affiliated with anyone but logic.

--------

Today wasn't the best of all days as a sudden riot began however this wasn't the first that has happened. Prowl has come to an assumption that someone is starting the mods on purpose therefore he's been sending in the authorites to investigate. Later, situations got worse when Decepticons came Archangel's office reporting missing friends that haven't returned to their homes for awhile. He assured them he'll handle the investigation and they left in high hopes they'll have their friends back.

Archangel sighed as he laid back againts his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his optics. Everything seemed to be getting worse however some events were to be expected but not missing bots.

A knock on his door interrupted Archangel's thoughts. "Come in." He responded as he fixed his serious composer.

Prowl entered with a datapad in his servo. "My team has discovered the culprit behind the sudden riots." Prowl told him. "Ratbat has been planning a scheme however its unknown what his intentions are."

"Ratbat was a Decepticon..."

"Of course you would know that given your past. Was isn't the right word for it: he " is" a Decepticon. He's proven to still be loyal to the dead cause." Prowl interrupted him and handed Archangel the datapad. "While I deal with Ratbat, I need you to inform Shockwave about the energon supplies. We've been getting reports of cannibalism in the streets and the percentage of casualties is high."

Archangel straighten and his servo tightened against the datapad in reaction to what Prowl wanted him to do. Was he testing him again?

"I'll... Be sure he's aware of the problems." He said in a serious tone, hiding his sudden dread.

"Good. Send me a report when you are finish." Prowl said as he left.

Archangel slumped in his seat more and groaned from stress. "Primus give me strength." He whispered.

Through that whole conversation, Prowl didn't give Archangel a moment to speak. Yes he knew how much the mech disliked him but this was peculiar. Also asking him to deal with Shockwave was definitely really low since Prowl was aware of his past. He was planning something and Archangel wasn't sure he wanted to play his game.

-----------

Drift gazed at the datapad in his servo, optics ridges scrunched together in a frown as the latest census showed that instead of an increase in their clients in the housing, some area were showing a drop in numbers. Odd. He placed that datapad aside and pulled up the records for the previous counts. The decrease was there but very marginal. Enough to be explained away by miscount or simply some bots just up and leaving their designated housing, moving in with others or goodness knows what else. He had had to deal with a fair number of strange reasons that bots just didn't stay put. But this was beginning to look like a pattern or maybe his war-wired brain module was trying to put a more sinister twist to what could just be perfectly normal situation. Yet his tanks gave that curious twist that he always trust and he simple knew that something was up.

But who could he turn to? He could try his Senior Officer but he also didn't want to come across as being paranoid. Primus knew his religious habits already earned his strange looks despite most bots being really good natured about it, some even being interested. his old friends were...dispersed. At one time he felt he could trust Ratchet above all, but the mech had thrown in his lot and time with Shockwave now. And it made sense, The CMO was always aligned with a leader.

Drift rubbed his helf crest and stared at the numbers again. He didn't know anything beyond them and a tank feeling. It wasn't enough to go on. He needed to start doing some ground work. Subtly of course, since he didn't need to start a panic. He was no Jazz but he was a fairly decent interrogator. Maybe he could start with the Police Reports. See if there were any notices for missing bots and if those names matched the ones in his register.

He vented out and picked up the datapad again. He had really hoped things would be different this time around but it seemed that it wasn't going to happy crystals. A mech poked his head in. "Drift, we got another riot happening, this time a bit closer to the recent bot settlement. Some of them are demanding relocation. Boss wants you on it!" Drift nodded, out of his chair even before the mech finished speaking. "I got it," he said, shiting to bot mode and heading to the scene of the now dispersed riot. A tall blue Seeker frame caught his optic as he arrived. "Archangel?" he mouthed to himself but the Seeker was swallowed up by the crowd work and his duties and Drift had his own to attend to. He made a mental note to check and see if that was indeed the Seeker he knew. The frightened group of mech and femmes huddled together as he approached.

"Hello, my name is Drift. Im from the Immigration Center. I'm here to attend to your issues," he began giving them a smile. "We need to get away from this!" a femme blurted out in a high pitch whine of her vocalizer, "We didn't come back to be in more war!" Drift shifted to modulate his vocalizer to soothing but firm tone. "I understand that and unfortunately I cannot relocate you to another sector. However, lets go inside and I can let you know how to make this place a bit safer for all of you. The Police as you see also got this under control. Trust us to do our jobs. We will make this better." The group huffed but led the way into their housing, Drift following behind them, hoping he was right.

-----------

The war was over. Cyberton was in an odd state. Shockwave was leader, the Decepticons and Autobots were scattered. You could even say they were shattered factions. (Roll credits.) The two factions in the war now needed to find a way to co-exist somehow. Putting that dreadful war behind would not be easy. The Decepticons' leader, Megatron, had unfortunately ceased functioning. Killed by that traitor, Shockwave. Soundwave would rip out that traitor's spark if he had the chance. But the Decepticons were not fully lost. They were nowhere near their previous power, however. They had much fewer numbers, not as strong a fighting force, and they had a leader who could not even hope to amount to what Megatron did.

Soundwave was only there because he had nowhere else to go. He would almost certainly be executed for the things he had done during the war. So he stayed with the army that the previous Second In Command of the faction had gathered. Starscream. It would certainly take getting used to. Starscream is not the leader Megatron was. But perhaps that could change with time. Soundwave would have to stick around to see that happen, and stick around he would.

----------

He was fuming, any bot that was an inch from him got shoved out of the way, and others, well they got thrown. It was very typical of Starscream when he threw a tantrum, to flick pain on others.

Being treated like the under dog for so long, he had picked up habits, and mold them.

But, this time was different- his attacks were more brutal then the normal. Starscream wasn't sure who gave the cadet the go to scout energon, with out a group. Something was off, Starscream couldn't put a digit on what.

Turning on the communication, the channel had been switched to private- just in case any was listening in. Had pinged in Soundwave, :'Find out who on Primus gave authority for a one bot solo mission, on finding energon!' Starscream said, almost half shouting, leaving his comm open for Soundwave response.

Takeing a sharp left turn, the Seeker stomped with each step. Dearing anyone to stop him, behind him was the sound of petter patter steps from small peds that came from none other then Rattrap, "Sir! Please slow down!" Stopping in his tracks, Starscream spun around, his servos now propped onto his his. "Did you already taken care of that mess?" The new Warlord said, in a demanding tone, rushing the mechanic vermin.

"Yes, Mord! I did what you've asked of me-" without giving him any further ado, Starscream turned back around and started to walk again in big strides. However it didn't seem like Rattrap was finished, "I need to talk to you! About Cybertron-" with this Starscream stopped in his tracks.

"Speak, and make it fast." The once Second in command command, not giving any room for small chit chat. "Well, uh. There's been reports- about disappearing bots back on home." Rattrap paused, in order for Starscream to react. "Witch fractions?"

"If my calculation and resources are correct- both." Rattrap held a datapad in his servos, clutching onto it as if it was his life line.

"Is that so, Then tell me, whose your resources, and how did you found about this?" Rattrap began to shift his pedes looking nervous. "The mech you killled-"

"Finish your report, then once your done leave the data in my quarters. Once done, bring up the dead bots profile- see what's all on his background history!" Starscream shouted, by now- he was more mad at himself to act upon reckless thoughts and actions, which made his mood even more sour.

Rattrap better prayed to the all spark, that this was just some miscalculation- rumors no less. If not- Starscream had more on his servos then that a war he was sure he was going to lose.

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

Drip, drip, drip. That was all that could be heard in the lab, Shockwave was collecting it; it's unknown for what reason but it seemed important. To the side was a whole diagram of the standard Cybertronian anatomy, there were beakers everywhere. To his right was a list of Decepticons and their pictures, most were all crossed out except three, Soundwave, Starscream, and Archangel. His experiment betrayed him, now was the perfect time to strike. At the bottom of the list was Megatron, his first victim, this was all part of the plan to save Cybertron. After a few hours had passed underneath the lab, he walked out into the barren wasteland which was Kaon.

|The Office|

Shockwave made sure he didn't have any energon on him, he didn't want to arouse suspicion to his actions. He landed, waving to his secretary, his fake persona was just to be clear. He walked up to his office, he sat down in his chair. Moments after, his secretary called. "Mr. Shockwave, you have a visitor from the Police Department, someone called Archangel." Shockwave was surprised, why would he want to see him? "Bring him up, we'll have a talk."

----------

Archangel was waiting in the lobby as the secretary contacted Shockwave of his arrival. He scowled as he wished the bot would call him by his rank as he introduced himself before but it seemed to have slipped their processor.

"He's waiting for you now, Archangel. He's at the top floor." She told him.

Archangel bowed his helm respectfully as he hid his sudden dread. "Thank you." He said before he walked past the counter and entered the lift. He pressed the top floor option on the lift's console and the hatch slid shut in response and began to ascend.

Archangel's servos clenched tightly as he grew tense and tried the venting technique Rung taught him to calm him down, however his emotions were overwhelming which deterred his efforts to relax. Despite his failure, he hid how he felt rather well as he remained stern as soon as the lift came to a stop. The hatch opened into Shockwave's office. The large purple mech was sitting at his desk and seeing him again made Archangel feel sick in his fuel tank.

"Commander Archangel of Iacon's Police Department. I have dire reports that acquire your attention." He said seriously as he placed the datapad on his desk. "We've been having multiple cases involving cannibalism in the streets due to lack of energon supplies. The public wants actions regarding the issues before they manifest into more riots."

[lofibeanie]

Hello and welcome

Idk what to, but welcome to whatever this turns out to be, I'm winging it here okay

So, moving to a new house, the start of a new year...big things like that sometimes incentivise you to start fresh, change things up, become a new you, etc etc.

Well, I'm about to start rambling about some things that I want to start getting into this year! Can't say I'll get far with them though, executive dysfunction is a pain in the butt.

One of the main things I want to get into is bullet journalling, or something similar to it. Mainly for mood tracking, habit / task tracking, and just generally keeping a record of what happens. Oh yeah, and also some kind of calendar so I can keep an eye on my TAFE work...

I'd also really like to improve my drawing skills (mainly digital, but maybe traditional too?). I'd love to draw more than I do already, I have lots of little ideas!!

Oh yeah, side note. I'm getting a waaaaay bigger desk over the next 2 weeks, and I am so excited. My current one is 90cm long, and my new one is 180cm long!! It's also a corner desk, so each side is 180cm long. I'm planning on having my computer, Cintiq, and some other art stuff (drawing / journalling / colouring stuff and origami) on the desk. Planning on getting a small TV or monitor with audio so I can dock my Switch and more easily play and / or stream ACNH too (人 ��͈ᴗ•͈)

Anyway, where was I. Right goal things yeah...okAY! I want to get more organised as well. Yeah I'm not too hopeful for this one. Basically, I want a timetable kind of thing, set blocks for certain tasks. On the other end, keeping things neat and tidy is great too, I'm capable of that part at least.

Also, I have rainbow fairy lights on order and they should be here early next week and omg... they're so pretty I can't wait to get them...

My friend from TAFE and I have loosely planned that she'll stay over my house on one of the TAFE nights so we can go there in the morning together. She's gonna teach me polymer clay stuff and painting, eeeeeee I'm excited! This new desk will come in handy for all this art stuff, heck yeah...still anxious about it all because it's all new to me, but I'm sure I'll get used to it over time~ she's so nice too (・∀・)

I'm trying to read through what I've typed so far and it's too much text for my brain to want to focus on...hhhhhh welp, we really are winging it.

I don't know if I want to use the big crossbody messenger bag I got for TAFE, or my backpack. I like the messenger bag, but it's a bit too big and there's no pockets or dividers in there...but then I'm not sure what I'd use it for instead. I really do prefer my backpack over it in terms of functionality, but the messenger bag looks cute... it's pastel and rainbow and has Pusheen on it. I want to use it for something, otherwise it's kind of a waste of money...

Another thing I kinda wanna do this year is maybe try and open art commissions? I'd love to do it, but I don't know if anyone would want to commission me especially since I kinda have a small amount of stuff I can actually draw, and also I haven't been doing clean lineart...I like the neat sketch look... I've been using a good pencil brush for most of my drawings lately. I also don't know where to do it... I'd need to figure out PayPal stuff and all that, and then some kind of branding / logo / "official name" kinds thing. I mean PhotonDragon13 is probably fine, and I guess I do have a logo and all. I'm really not sure. I need a watermark though...still haven't figured out one.

Okay...I thiiiiink that's all for now.

Bye bye and have fun whatever it is you do on tumblr (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

[ipsomaniac]

saw a post about a sign of adhd being compulsive fidgeting, messing with your body etc but i guess it was deleted before i could reblog. but i wrote out a response so here it is for future reference.

rambly self-indulgent diagnostic wishful-thinking ahead:

so this is one of the things that has made me wonder whether i might have adhd or something - i am constantly doing stuff like this. i dont think pain is a particular component of it for me, but i incessantly seek physical stimulation in this way - cracking my bones, biting my nails, pulling out my hair, picking at scabs, changing my position, whispering/talking to myself, unconsciously making a weird noise by blowing air through the back of my teeth. this is compulsive behaviour that i find incredibly difficult to stop even when i know it’s annoying to others, and i often do it unknowingly. other things that have made me wonder:

- the general feeling of... not being able to access parts of my brain. the feeling that most of the time i am working against the grain and i simply can’t do the thing i am trying to do, even though i should be able to do it. i didn’t experience this much as a child (or at least, not in the subjects that i liked) because i did well within the structure of school, but i’ve felt crippled by it all through my adulthood once those structures were removed

- i guess this is linked to problems with executive function: low motivation and concentration, struggling with open-ended and unstructured problems or tasks, to the point that they occassionally cause me to have breakdowns in the context of work

- avoidance of things that require mental effort. e.g. i have, and have always had, a bizarre loathing of games. not make-believe games, but any game that has a set of systematic rules and a winner and loser i find to be almost a form of torture: like i’m so unmotivated my brain is actively repulsed. many people have remarked on how abnormal this is. that’s something i’ve had since i was a kid, but now, my brain’s inability to engage with mentally challenging things extends to so many things that i once enjoyed and which came naturally to me, but which have since become too painful: writing, drawing, composing music.

- the memory of how weird i was as a child. of course all kids are pretty weird, but i was weird weird: at my teachers’ insistance my parents had me enrolled in some sort of therapy type thing when i was 5, which i think was partly to teach me how to socialise, because i was so severely off base on that front. zero emotional regulation or sense of how to interact normally, moody, hyper-verbal, LOUD VOICE (still struggle with that), constantly felt like there were hidden rules of engagement which i didn’t understand.

i don’t actually think i have adhd because a lot of the classic symptoms don’t apply - i don’t have issues with timekeeping, i’m not especially disorganised, i’m not prone to losing things, i don’t struggle with focusing on details, i don’t make lots of careless mistakes, i’m not “scatterbrained” or “absent-minded”. probably most of my issues with executive function are just a result of depression. but i do have an ongoing sense - even in non-depressive periods when i may otherwise feel quite happy - that there is something broken in my brain, that there’s a disconnected gear in there, and it’s stopping me from accessing own mind. it would be nice to be able to point to that break and say, there it is, it’s got a name, it’s real.