ink-blot-thoughts · 1 year ago
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OK so could someone please explain what the fuck is going on with Dottore's age to me?? Cause like in the Sumeru Archon quest he's referred to as that dude who got kicked out and became a Harbinger, implying that this was recent enough for people to remember him and his crimes against life itself or whatever.
But then in Scaramouche's backstory he was a fully grown adult 300 years ago?? And had enough bullshit going on to know what was happening in Tatarasuna and do his fun little murder spree???
And like yeah I know segments but they don't explain this cause they're clones of him at different ages it doesn't mean he can time travel.
So here's the only options I can think of:
1)He's like 400 but his dramatic murder-and-drop-out is legendary enough at the Akademiya that everyone still knows him by face (which doesn't really explain the Zandik notes but whatever)
2)He can fucking time travel now
Or 3) He's doing that Twilight thing where every few years he goes back to the Akademiya for shits and giggles, but the most recent visit is when he got kicked out
Personally I'm with option 3 but fuck if I can think of something that makes sense. Lore masters, pls assist.
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icarusredwings · 2 months ago
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Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.
(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)
To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3
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He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.
What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.
For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.
An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.
You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.
Running with the bulls
Working my miracles
Holding my world together with a boot string
His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'
He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.
Living the dream
Benzos and gasoline
Coffee and blue light screens till the morning
He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.
Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.
Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.
If I tell you this is drowning
You tell me I'm walking on water
I could bring fire from the mountain
You tell me it feels a little colder
Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..
It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.
“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”
“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”
“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”
“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”
“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”
“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”
“I'm aware..”
“Aren't you like… an X-men?”
“N-no… not anymore.”
“Oh… Did they fire you?”
“I quit.”
“Why?”
“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”
What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.
I don't wanna
Choose between being a salesman or a soldier
Just let me look a little older
It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.
Their Wolverine.
Not Logan.
There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.
“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”
“Oh- uhm… No..”
“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”
But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.
Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.
Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.
He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.
“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”
At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.
“T-that's not… no.”
“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”
“H-how uhm.. How was work?”
Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.
“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”
“Oh.. that's.. fun?”
“Extremely liberating stuff.”
Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.
Let me step a little bolder
I don't wanna
Choose between being a butcher or a pauper
“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.
“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”
“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”
All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.
“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”
He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.
Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.
“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”
He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.
Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”
“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”
And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.
Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.
“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.
“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”
But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.
Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.
“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.
“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”
“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”
“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.
Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.
“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.
“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”
“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.
“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”
Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.
“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”
Honey, I'm taking no orders
Gonna be nobody’s soldier
It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.
“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”
Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.
“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.
Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.
Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”
The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.
“Logan..”
“Hm?”
“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”
Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.
“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.
“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”
“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.
“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”
Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.
“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”
“W-what?”
“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.
Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.
“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”
“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”
“What does that even mean?”
“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”
Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”
But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.
“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.
For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.
“Do you feel better? Hm?”
“Nngh..”
“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.
“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”
Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.
“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”
“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?
“Are you breaking up with me?!”
“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”
See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.
“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.
“Rings…?”
He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.
“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.
Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”
His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”
Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”
“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”
“In rings?”
“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”
“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”
The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.
“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.
“What? You wanna come shower?”
“No- well.. maybe but..”
Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.
“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”
He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.
“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”
Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.
“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.
“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.
“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.
The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”
Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.
Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.
“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.
Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.
“You know what I mean…”
“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”
“Aye! I'm not ugly!”
“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.
“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”
“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.
Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”
Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.
“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.
Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.
“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.
They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.
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ancha-aus · 5 months ago
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RealAgeAU Drabble - Starcrossed
Here we go! the next Drabble :D @spotaus
As the poll ended it gave me two options and I wanted to write a Cross POV. So. Starcrossed :D
First: here Prev: here Next: here
Timewise?
We are about... a Month and like three weeks in. So a month of Nightmare being alone. Three weeks of him being with the gang. about a small week after Killer soul-adopting Nightmare (with Dust adopting Nightmare in the first week as the madlad he is).
Okay? We good timeline wise? okay.
As always, unedited and unbeta'ed. This is not ever going to change unless i one day decide to make a full story of these drabbles and add extra stuff and change the chapters up.
Anyway!
*------------------------*
Cross rubs his face as he continues to walk "Dust."
Dust just hums to let him know he heard.
Cross shoots him a look "He has legs. he can walk." with he, Cross obviously means Nightmare.
Dust doesn't even look at Cross or look in anyway surprised by that sentence. Instead he just keeps walking as he holds Nightmare in his arms "I know."
Cross stares at him but Dust doesn't continue to speak.
He groans "So why isn't he walking?!"
Dust shrugs and instead bounces Nightmare up a bit to enable Dust to have a more secure and stable hold on Nightmare.
Nightmare for his part does not look bothered as he just relaxes against Dust as he looks back over Dust's shoulder and watches other people go about their day.
Cross rubs his face "honestly what is the deal with you and carrying him?"
Dust shoots him an amused look "I want to."
Cross throws his arms and hands out "That can't be the only reason!"
Dust shrugs "Don't need more reasons."
Cross glares at the ground as they continue walking. He looks up and points at a store "This one?"
Dust looks at it and shakes his skull.
Cross groans loudly "What is wrong wit this one?!"
Dust raises a brow "Wrong style."
Cross crosses, heh, his arms as he glances at Dust "You know. this whole clothes shopping thing would be a lot easier if you actually picked a store to enter."
Dust shrugs again "Not good enough." and he gently bonks his skull against Nightmare's.
Cross can't believe this is the same Dust that got his own clothes by walking into the frist store he saw and grabbing the first set of clothes he saw. before calling it a day. Dust's wardrobe was hardly ever actually his size.
Now? The first store was too low quality; then not the right colours; then wrong materials; then too bland; then too sexy, with this one Cross had agreed and questioned why they would need a shirt for a six year old with the words 'lady killer' on them; then to tight and restrictive; and now just 'not good enough'.
When Cross agreed to help Dust get Nightmare new clothes instead of breaking and entering a place wiht Killer he had hoped it would be the less stressful option.
Cross rubs his face "Wiht you being this picky he is never going to get clothes that fit him."
Dust shrugs again and seems fully unbothered. Which may just be because Nightmare primarily still wears his stuff.
Cross doesn't get it. well he kinda does. Babybones are cute nad he also notices the need to take care of him but. It is Nightmare! It is a matter of time before he is an adult again and then none of this will have mattered! Or maybe they will have and then what? How would he recover from this?!
It is best to remind himself that this may be Nightmare and he may be six but Nightmare will one day become that powerful and formidable monster again and so to keep treating him with the respect he deserves!
They walk silently through the twon for a moment and Cross can see that Nightmare is dozing in Dust's hold. completely content and trusting.
Cross shoots a look at Dust. "I just don't get it...."
Dust blinks nad looks over "What?"
Cross feels himself grow warm with embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it out loud and he says as much.
Dust rolls his eye lights and waits with a raised brow.
Cross grumbles but tries to explain "How can you... treat him like a babybones that easily?"
Dust tilts his skull and glances down at Nightmare before looking back at Cross "Because he is one." the way Dust says it implies it is the obvious answer.
Cross groans as he tries to explain more "But he used to be big and an adult. Or at least look like one? How can you jsut... switch to seeing him as a babybones?"
Dust tilts his skull adn snorts "easy. people change. people you watched grow up or grow older, do you still treat them like kids even though they are adults. because you knew them as kids?"
Cross blinks nad speaks "This is different?"
Dust shakes his skull "I don't agree. it is the same concept. just slightly different. he used to be a child. magic gave him the body and brain of an adult. but his soul was sitll a child and once the magic was gone he is a child again. So you treat him as a child."
Cross frowns as looks to the side "What if he becomes on adult again?"
Dust starts to grin "I mean. that is usually how growing up works."
Cross knows he is blushing again and glares "You know what i meant."
Dust chuckles and shrugs "The same still implies. We will just be lucky we managed to skip the teenage years with him."
Cross wasn't sure what he expected as answer but maybe he should have seen something like this coming. Dust was after all all for this parentship thing they have going on right now... and Dust is a very smart and logical person. Of course he managed to find comparisons to normal day life and managed to accept it more easily. Hell Dust probably has even more examples ready to use if Cross asks for it.
It is still just... difficult to accept for him. Cross will need more time. Luckily none of them seem to mind him lagging behind in this case. Killer had also taken longer than Dust to accept the situation fully, but Killer managed to work it out.
Horror is much chiller about what is going on. He didn't seem surprised at Dust's reaction and even less at Killer joining the 'parent-camp' with Dust.
Maybe there is just something wrong with him... it wouldn't be the first time...
Cross sighs as they stop by the plaza and manage to just see the house that Horror and Killer should be robbing. "well, either way we are soon out of time and will have been unsuccessful" great. the one thing they had to do was get Nightmare a spare outfit. They didn't even need to try shoes and-
Dust freezes "fuck."
Cross turns "what is wrong?" as he says it he sees Dust eye the plaza around them, all while he ducks further and further behind the fountain as Nightmare shakes.
Dust looks around the plaza "Stars. All three." he glares "empty... can't make a break for it using the crowd as cover..."
and a teleport would be too loud and will clue them in on them being here. Fuck indeed.
Cross sneaks a look and sees the three skeletons talk and converse casually. the rattling from Nightmare is a sign of pure fear and Cross feels himself grow worried even as he texts Horror and Killer about their emergency.
How... how would they react to Nightmare being a child? Dream had already made it clear that he thought Nightmare was corrupted and none of his brother had remained. What would he do if he saw Nightmare?
Best case scenerio would be him kidnaping Nightmare and locking him away... Worst case just... dusting him. Make sure Nightmare never becomes the powerful being he can be.
Cross notices that they have been seen as Dream looks shocked while Blue waves and starts to shout "Hey! DUst and Cross!" Cross acts as if he didn't hear or noticed them.
Cross stares at Dust "What do we do-"
and Dust just, undoes his own hoody. he pulls it over his head and even ignores the red scarf that falls to the ground next to Nightmare- wait when did Dust put Nightmare down.
Dust puts the hoody on Nightmare with one smooth motion and pulls the hoody up, he next uses the strings to make it tight and tests to make sure it doesn't come off easily.
Dust stares at Nightmare as he quickly puts on the scarf again "You just keep your face and skull against my shoulder and neck okay? Don't glance, don't react. Just act shy or asleep. Nothing will get you." and Dust picks him up again. Nightmare, without a single word, pushes his face into the soft scarf and together with the large hoody there is nothing visible that could be used to indentify him.
Holy shit that is so smart-
"Hey you two! We didn't expect to see you just hanging- what... is that?!" Blue looks beyond excited as he stares at the tiny bundle that is Nightmare. Cross feels his anxiety and panic turn hotter into a raging fire. Dont. get. near. him.
Dust just shoots Blue a look and speaks in a quiet voice "sh. quiet."
Blue gives a sheepish look and speaks much softer "oh. I am sorry. The kiddo is tired?" Dust just nods.
Cross sees his change and nods as well "We were taking a quick break but were going to leave again." he can see Killer and Horror look through the window of the house they are robbing and sees them see their situation.
Blue looks sad but nods "Yeah. I get that-"
Ink interrupts him "How did you two get a child?!"
Dream looks suspicious but doesn't say anything.
Fuck, he can probably feel Nightmare's fear doesn't he? and he wouldn't know it is fear directed at the Stars... Oh no.
Dust raises a brow and doesn't even bother to answer as he starts to take a few steps back, away from the Stars. Cross cna see that Horror is climbing down the side of the house as Killer glares at the Stars.
Ink gasps "I knew it! You two kidnaped a child!" he holds out his hands "Hand the child back and we will find their parents!"
Dust growls as he steps further back.
Cross panics and answers without thinking "We didn't steal him! He is Dust's you idiots!"
dead. silence.
The three Stars look shocked at Cross and Cross can actually see both Horror and Killer also stare at him in shock.
Ink snorts "Really? and who is the other parent?"
Cross huffs "First off, you don't nessesarily need two parents to make a child, learn basic monster biology first before making claims. second, obviously it is" think think think think think just say something! "me." NO NOT THAT!
The silence of before is NOTHING compared to the silence now. Cross is actually sure he can hear a pin drop in one of the stores around them at the moment.
No one moves and it doesn't help that Cross can see both Dust and Nightmare shoot him incredulously glances.
Oh please someone shoot him because Horror even pauses his own climb to shoot him a raised eye brow while Killer is ACTUALLY wiggling his eye brows at him.
Just end him. Please his mind did not work with him. He had just been thinking so much about how everyone had been treating Ngihtmare and how he saw the situation.
Dream is the one who coughs and looks to the side awkwardly "oh. wow. euh... congrats? I didn't realise you two were... you know... an item." please please please please shut up. "and a babybones as well! Wow! That is... unbelieveable!"
Blue nods "Yeah! No one knew!"
Cross still can't find the words and is actually afraid of what he will say next. Dust however shrugs and has managed to pull his face back in his normal bored look "prefer privacy. it is no ones business." and he raises a brow at them.
Blue smiles brightly "of course! We won't tell others. stars knows everyone wants a quiet moment nowadays..."
Dream nods before quickly changing the subject "right! We were just curious what you two were doing out and-" he looks horrifed "Oh stars... you two are on a date! A fmaily date! and we crushed it and interrupted it and we are so sorry!"
Cross suddenly understands why Chara and Gaster would use the reset and overwrite power. please just let him change this moment to have been anything else. please.
Dust hums and shrugs. Not really answering any question.
Dream still looks embarrassed "anyway! we... euh... well... were wondering what you were doing. Now we know that that is great! euh... So... my brother just... doesn't mind this?"
Any embarrassement disappears. Hot rage in his body. Cross glares as his crosses his arms.
Dream sputters but continues "you know... be is so against positivity... and this... this is a beautiful and wonderful thing! Doesn't he...isn't he..." he smiles sheepish.
Cross glares "no. He doesn't. In matter of fact. He is very fine with the situation at hand. very willing to help in a way he can." Cross isn't even lying. While Nightmare doesn't like having been changed back he isn't diffficult anymore and more than happy to stick with Dust, and them all, now. Nightmare is also not fussy when out and about on missions and aside from being grumpy he is a perfect good babybones.
Dust nods "you should stop talking about people you know nothing about." he looks at Cross "lets go. he is tired."
Cross nods and sees Horror sign at Killer to get down as well. Killer shrugs and just lets himself fall from the third floor right into Horror's arms. The two disappear into some side street.
Cross nods and looks at Dust "you first." Cross will just walk behind Dust and make sure the Stars don't get any glimbs near the end.
Dust nods and turns easily as he walks away, Cross can see how Dust changes the hand mid turn and Nightmare sinks a little lower. Making it that his skull doesn't even peak over Dust's shoulder.
They walk away in silence and take many turns to get some distance. As soon as Cross is sure the Stars can't hear or see them he says so. Which causes Dust to nod before sprinting, Cross is quick to follow.
They reach the edge of town in record time and Cross glances back "okay. we are good. we are fine... we got out."
Dsut nods before looking at him very amused "we made a babybones?"
Cross feels himself grow warm for so many reasons as he sputters "I panicked! I am sorry I implied we were- that we did!" he hides his face.
Dust chuckles and pats his shoulder "It is fine."
Cross relaxes and smiles in thanks.
Dust raises a brow "Killer will never let you live this down."
Cross groans "just end me."
Dust hums "I don't know. I don't think killing the other parent of my child works in my favour." he grins so goddamnit amused.
Cross is never going to hear the end of this.
*-----------------*
First: here Prev: here Next: here
Cross was so close to soul-adopting Nightmare but then the Stars interrupted and Cross panicked.
Also, important. Noticed how Cross only apologised for implying he and Dust made the babybones together? But not that he is a parent? Cross is getting there. It will just take him a while.
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waters-and-the-wilde · 6 months ago
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hehe scenario. jupeter coming out the other side of All That with a bit of 'wow you're just straight up a bit codependent but maybe that's actually the best-case scenario for you right now carry on fellas'
oh they've Had Their Talk in the aftermath, and, okay, it's agreed that they are Not Doing Romance because Nureyev needs Time To Grieve and it would be better to Take The Pressure Off Of Being In A Relationship and they will Reevaluate when Nureyev's had a chance to be a guy who doesn't have to worry about where his next meal is coming from. but also Like Hell is Juno just going to Leave Him Alone after all this. and the result is that they spend the Big Crash just. completely unhinged about each other. Nureyev's shot past 'feeling vulnerable around Juno scares the shit out of him' and well into 'raw nerves and gaping wounds and compound trauma and feeling vulnerable about literally anything and everything all the time and being around Juno is integral to not spiraling into the abandonment hell vortex'. meanwhile Juno's like 'holy shit Nureyev is letting me be there for him. this is already incredible progress'
u think they were insufferable on the Carte Blanche well. on the Carte Blanche Nureyev was still working on things like trusting Juno enough to let him back in at all and he Had An Image To Maintain and lots of Private Stuff to Deal With and Juno was still figuring out how not to be a prickly ass all the time and 'when is it appropriate to give your bf his space when your default mode is to Investigate Shit' and none of that is a going concern right now
'sometimes you gotta be a little bit mentally ill to handle the mental illness' they have so much separation anxiety and they are clipping their carabiners together. hooking pinky fingers and following each other when one needs to do something in the next room. where's Nureyev? sitting in Juno's lap again. his ass is experiencing 'nervous system doesn't know how to respond to the sudden removal of constant crushing dread and just goes fucking haywire at unpredictable intervals'. he gets random-ass panic attacks and there's only so much the breathing exercises and the grounding exercises and self-soothing techniques can do compared to 'Juno is here and he's fine and he's safe and he is more than happily providing prolonged physical contact' to get him to calm down on a physiological level
meanwhile Juno's like 'i chased this idiot across half the galaxy because he wouldn't ask for help and had to deal with him being all stone-faced and cold about it, do I look like i mind that he's clingy now? a lady does not need his personal space at this time. a lady is living for this. a lady is also maybe feeling clingy have u considered that'
everyone who isn't rita (idek who. melee? the other vivopolis refugees??) is assuming they are just getting a very bad grade in taking it slow and are barely humoring them about it. and neither bothers with denying the boyfriend allegations but it's not bc it's true it's they're just. too exhausted to get defensive about it
rita: and i mean they ain't actually smooching too loud in the kitchen or whatever
melee probably: he just came out of Juno's room wearing Juno's shirt
juno: he's a thief that's his shirt now
(12 hours earlier:)
nureyev: (shows up to juno's room at 3am) im sorry for waking you i had nightmares about [the bomb/the carte blanche raid/dokana capturing you] i just needed to see that you were alive and make sure im in the reality timeline and then i will go back to-
juno: get in loser we're watching bad cops
rita: hi mista' n do you want some of this blanket
nureyev: that's very kind but im afraid im
juno: yeah hold up he's like really sweaty im gonna get him a clean shirt
nureyev: you really don't need to-
juno: how are you even still standing up when you're shaking like that
nureyev: that is. an excellent question
juno: anyway welcome to the club i fired rita like an hour ago bc i had nightmares about her dying on the asteroid
rita: i had one where i was gettin chased by this big stompy plant monster with lotsa teeth and i had to distract it by throwing all my snacks behind me and then i was outta snacks and then i was up getting more snacks when mista' steel fired me
rita: you know i think only reason i ain't got separation anxiety about mista' steel is because we spent all that time in the ruby together while we were chasin' after you and that gets a gal over it real fast
juno: thanks rita :P
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kisilinramblings · 26 days ago
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At the Edge of Time Scene analysis : Tilting with the Balance
Loving the tilting camera on every shot facing Adrien after he hears the news. It starts when Adrien loses his footing and fell on his bed.
Please bare with this essay format, I only have screenshots at my disposal, but to tell you the truth, this whole scene analysis should have been a video essay. It would be easier to do justice to the work put behind the storyboard, the camera and the animation.
Anyway, spoilers ahead.
Every other shot on the other characters (aside from one, I'll come back to it) are stable. But not Adrien's once the news hit him.
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It's subtle, but it adds a vertigo effect. Adrien has lost his stability, his ground. And the slight camera movement helps the audience feel it.
(BTW, if anyone help me getting gif of these shots above, it would be appreciated, with proper credit of course!).
Not only this news is giving Adrien vertigo, but it also hints that his world is shifting. Like how you tilt a helm by just one degree and the ship will slowly derive from its course. We won't see the consequences of it just yet (it's too soon to notice) but its impact starts with this lie. We are at the beginning of it all.
And of course, this shot.
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The cubes of the decor like Adrien's world are falling apart. Maybe an easy visual metaphor to some, sure but you cannot denied it was still effective. Plus I love the use of the room cube pattern to illustrate the point and that they break apart precisely on the word "wish".
The shot continues, with the camera zoom out to illustrate how small, miserable and alone feels in that great void. His colors also turn monochrome.
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Something else to point out about this scene are Bug Noire's shots.
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When she begins to tell her lie, her shots either has low angles, or make her appear like she is towering Adrien.
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She is a figure of authority of the narrative. And she is imposing. Bug Noire tells what she wants Adrien to know and believe. She knows it and the narrative knows it and therefore the shots are blocked in a way that establish the power imbalance visually. Of course, this is not a conversation between equals.
When Adrien confronts or asks questions, he does take back a bit of the balance, questioning the narrative.
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Like here for example. We see that now Adrien is the one with the low angle in the first shot while in the second one, he is taking more space in the frame than Bug Noire, putting her in an awkward position. But it is not enough.
Whenever we see Bug Noire in a normal shot, like we she says "Believe me, there is nothing you could've done".
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She is honest with Adrien and therefore the shot level with her as a result.
This is probably the single full truth she has told him during this whole scene. Adrien (or unbestknown to her Chat Noir) would have been powerless. Chat Blanc and Ephemeral might have been What if episodes and never actually happened in the main timeline, but we as audience remember and know that is a truth.
Even if we haven't watch said episodes, the normal angle on Bug Noire illustrates that at that precise moment, she has said a truth. But it is unfortunately cut short.
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Like in the very next shot. The shot is stable, but the camera travels down as Adrien sits. But as a result, Bug Noire returns in towering him again, taking back control of the narrative.
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And incidentally, she looks down upon him again.
After that, we see her kneel. Normally, kneeling is a form of submission, of vulnerability.
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But when you kneel, you are supposed to be lower that the one to whom you are kneeling to. However, the low angle once again return behind Bug Noire's back in the first shot. This is Bug Noire's intent as she apologizes to Adrien. But the blocking doesn't give her the position of vulnerability. Because she isn't fully honest. In the subtext, we know she is actually apologizing for relying on lying to him. But since Adrien is unaware of it (and he is not listening anymore at this point either), the blocking make him almost fade in the light background.
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How I understand this bit is that Bug Noire's apology is actually meaningless to Adrien. She is apologizing in order to convince herself it was the right decision which will be the emotional conflict for the rest of the special.
There are lots of other details I haven't cover such as the eye contact between the shots, but I'll stop it here for this post. Like I have stated, this essay probably would have been more clear and bonified under a video format.
But before concluding, I want to give my kudos to the storyboarder(s), director and animators of this scene. And to the compositor too. That music kept me on the edge of my seat the whole time. Great tension.
Thomas and cie, if you happen to read this, know you have my attention for the next 3 seasons. Just because of this one scene. Bravo et merci pour tout votre travail.
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vincord · 10 months ago
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Borderline Kotoko and why.
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(I'm not a psychiatrist, a specialist, or anyone else. Everything that follows is just my own vision of the character as a person with bpd. I like to headcanoning to my favorite characters what I have, especially if I see similarities with their feelings/behavior/relationships. I don't headcanon to the characters and my kins what I don't have myself and what I don't know much about. It's just a hedcanon and you may disagree with it, if you want.)
Since her second MV has been released, I can finally put all my thoughts together and write this post. (thanks to my mutual who told me to post this here. Without her little support, I wouldn't have done it)
I would like to start by saying that it is obvious that Kotoko divides the world into black and white, good and evil, allies and enemies. This is one of the main themes that can be traced throughout Kotoko's narrative. There is no middle ground for her, It's either this or that. This hinders Kotoko in her relationships with others, it hinders her in her relationship with herself and the perception of everything that is happening around her.
A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation.
During all this time, it has been shown how Kotoko is able to idealize people or just treat them well, but then push them away from her if they do or say something that undermines her trust in them. She takes a defensive position, because an opinion different from hers is equated with a threat and danger.
"Lucky"
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Kotoko treats the rescued girl quite well only as long as she doesn't read the news.
_ Kazui
The 1st trial. Question 6.
"Who's the prisoner you have the most interest in?" Kotoko: It's hard to say. As of now, if it's about whose character I can't quite grasp, it'd be Kazui with his strong sense of intellectual curiosity.
The 2nd trial. Timeline (2022/08/05)
Kotoko: ……Mukuhara Kazui. Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to properly serve justice to those who did something unforgivable. I’m currently acting as an agent for our prison guard Es. Don’t get in my way next time. Kazui: Oi oi, don’t be silly, Yuzuriha-chan. There’s no way I could just look away from your outrageous display of violence. Anyway, even disregarding the fact violence against those voted guilty isn’t a part of Milgram’s system, what you’re doing is just acting recklessly based on a broad interpretation. As long as I’m free myself, I’ll stop you. Kotoko: ……what a pointless argument. Hmph. Since Es forgives you, I have no choice but to forgive you myself too. If you to keep to your words, then you’d best do what you can to keep being forgiven. If you’re not, then next time you’ll be one of my targets.
She is interested in him and communicating with him. They really have common topics to talk about and maybe they could even get along. But he does something that she doesn't like and is directed against her and her ideals. Kazui stands up for those whom Kotoko planned to punish, thereby turning her against himself, despite the small number of common themes that seemed to make her a little more loyal to him. This act alone is enough for her to instantly begin to see him as an enemy, not an ally. _
Es
Kotoko's idealization and disillusionment with people are best manifested in her relationship with Es. In the beginning, she offers them cooperation, seeing that Milgram is somewhat similar to what she adheres to, only to push them away when her opinion was not agreed.
The 1st trial. Voice drama.
Kotoko: Some scenes.. you can only see it in a cell. Because you and I are the same, always observing the other prisoners.
Es: Kotoko. A person like you.. What have you planned? Kotoko: Heh. Me, I want to be like you. There's no way I can tolerate sin.
Kotoko: To be honest, I don't know your true intentions. And I don't know whether you are a similar person with similar thoughts. Who knows, maybe it's just my delusion of wishful thinking.
The 2nd trial. Voice drama.
Es: Listen to me. You're wrong. Kotoko: What? We've decided to work together, so i've become your fangs.
Es: That's enough. We have different views on it. I'm not continuing to work with you.
Beginning. They make it clear to her that they disagree with her and consider her wrong.
Es: Kotoko. I will not do what you say. I will determine the way i see both sin and punishment as i want it. It may seem wrong from your point of view. And that's understandable. I'm pretty aware of it.
Kotoko: How ridiculous... It's always like this... All of you weaklings always act like this... All of you enjoy seeing someone getting hurt...
Kotoko: You keep asking for it, but as soon as it happens near you by your own choice, you all start complaining and evading your responsibility... You're always like this... Always such idiots!
Kotoko: You have no power, and yet you make no effort to gain it! You're talking about justice, but it just doesn't make sence! You're invested in people's disasters, yet you take a position of "i have nothing to do with it"! You can't even face your true selves!
Ending. After they disagree with Kotoko, she instantly forgets everything she said before. Now they are no longer similar people with similar interests. Now Es is the exact opposite of that. _
It is also worth recalling that since her birthday in 2022 to birthday in 2023, Kotoko has never contacted any of the other prisoners. She isolated herself from her surroundings for quite a long time, only to then offend them all. She didn't trust any of them before, but now, when she sees that no one agrees with her, she has done everything to build a barrier between them and herself.
Most people with BPD react sharply to rejection, disagreement with them, actions directed against them, and so on, which they can interpret as betrayal and something that threatens their own safety. Sometimes it doesn't matter what a person has done or said. The reaction to this can be strong and vivid. ___
Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.
Here I focus only on paranoia and stress. Kotoko doesn't trust anyone, she's always tense and wary. Even in simple conversations with prisoners, she may feel threatened and something directed against herself. Actually, there is already a post that would fit this point and which is a little more detailed. It says more about PTSD, but still.
The 1st trial. Timeline (2020/05/30)
Mahiru: Hey, Kotoko-chan. There’s something that’s really been bugging me, so do you mind if I ask? ……how do you style yourself so well? Have you always dressed like that? But it also looks like something you’d wear for training. Do you play sport? Ah, or maybe some kind of martial arts? Kotoko: ……you really are carefree. Everyone in here is a “murderer” right? Is this really the time to be asking questions like that? Mahiru: Hmm, I guess so. That’s what they said. But nobody here seems particularly scary or anything, right? If I had to pick someone, then maybe you’re the scariest! Ah, wait, do you do like yoga or something? Kotoko: ……I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or are just an airhead.
The 1st trial. Timeline (2020/07/09)
Kotoko: Kazui, you do martial arts right. ……what type? Judo? Kazui: Ah, my main is…… judo, and kendo. I also know a little bit of karate. You must have some martial arts experience too, right, Yuzuriha-chan? I can tell by looking. Hmm… probably a combat type…… I’m guessing not karate…… is it Taekwondo? Kotoko: ……I’m not telling you. Stop ogling me like that. It’s gross. Kazui: I-isn’t that a bit unfair?
+ Literally this moment.
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___
Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights) +
Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events
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or
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or
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In both of her MVs, from time to time there is a sudden transition to wolves, the red moon and Kotoko's inner world, during which she gives free rein to her emotions. It's like emotional outbursts and outbursts of aggression, the appearance of which you cannot predict, which is why they cause damage both to the one who has them, and, perhaps, to those who are around.
Not that I can say anything about symbolism, I don't think i understand it. But since this is my post and my headcanon, I can interpret what is happening the way I want.
For all its secrecy and unsociability, most of Kotoko's outfits are quite open, compared to the outfit with the red jacket. When she's in this outfit, she's either in her inner world, or with an emotional outburst, or hurting someone. Wearing a hood is an attempt to protect yourself from the outside world and the people around you, to keep all your emotions to yourself, which are already suppressed. Kotoko, with her hood up, is cold and aloof from everyone. She builds a kind of wall between herself and the others. When she removes the hood from her head, she breaks down these walls, allowing a bunch of different emotions to break out and mix.
I would also like to mention how she sounds in her second voice drama and second song. She goes from emotion to emotion and pretty quickly. The way she quickly goes from laughter to intense anger, from intense anger to utter despair and is on the verge of tears, only to then return to anger again, and then suddenly quiet down. ___
Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self +
Chronic feelings of emptiness
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The 1st trial. Question 1
"Just who are you?" Kotoko: Yuzuriha Kotoko. Someone who plans to fight for your sake. Well, that depends on you too, though.
Kotoko doesn't perceive herself as a person, but rather as a tool to achieve a particular goal. Someone who will do the dirty work that others won't do. She has a first name, last name, age, and that's all. Her whole definition goes through her own ideals, which she desperately clings to and clings to. Kotoko's views are radical and in most cases don't imply compromises. She's either a hero or nobody, so she always needs a reason to follow her ideals and do everything according to them.
Otherwise, there will be nothing left of her. ___
What can I say at the end? Well, this is my headcannon and that's it. I could have forgotten something, made a mistake somewhere, or not completed it. It's hard for me to keep track of it.
Kotoko is one of my favorite characters and some of the things related to her evoke a strong response in me, even if these things show the negative side of the personality and cause a pang of guilt/dislike. It's like you're being shown those disadvantages of yours that you're trying to ignore.
I like to think that she crushes a lot of emotions inside herself, trying not to let them escape. I like to think that sometimes she's afraid of herself, and sometimes she's not. Her cooperation with someone is both a feeling of being needed, and avoiding loneliness, and a moment of socialization. But she can't stand it, because any little thing or the wrong word triggers a survival mode in her head, which is why she builds high walls between herself and the environment again.
I have a lot of thoughts about her. I just wanted to pour at least a small part of these thoughts out of my head into a relatively structured post and that's all. Thanks for reading it. I've been carrying it all in my head for quite a long time and I don't want to wait for the release of her answers to the questions, you know...
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strawberry-smog · 2 months ago
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SHERMIE.
Man, I hate this guy. While overthinking the Gravity Falls timeline brings me joy that only trying to put together a miscut puzzle with a boxcutter and some paint to scribble over the pieces that just don’t match anything can, Shermie is one of the fandom’s eternal lore tangles that just annoys me. I would prefer to simply never think about him, and yet after that stupid book taunted me about him again, I am opening this can of sherms and thinking about him and how he fits into the timeline and the wider Pines family dynamics.
I feel like most of the more lore-interested fan content, or at least the stuff concerning Stan and Ford, tends to go for the Older Shermie fan theory. And even though this is something that makes the most sense out of the mechanical number-crunching timeline part of the story, on a character writing level older Shermie just rings false to me: Stan and Ford are so defined by them being the only two people in each other’s lives from a young age, and even if Shermie was old enough or estranged enough or both to have never had any significant interactions with his baby brothers, I think the mere existence of an older brother would’ve cast a shadow over their childhood as something to idolize or something to be afraid of ending up like.
Plus, we’ve got Ford being given Filbrick’s wedding suit as a young man and the present day Stan-as-Ford inheriting all of the family’s old junk, which both seem to point towards Ford being the eldest son, although I will concede that this works for a no-contact Shermie too.
All of this seems like it should make me a Younger Shermie truther, but that doesn’t exactly feel right to me either - it works better for the older Pines family dynamic, but once you get to the younger generation you have to start thinking about the timeline again and how the unavoidable double teen pregnancies fit into the story there, and subjectively I feel like that doesn’t really fit the way Dipper and Mabel are presented. To me their branch of the Pines family seems a bit more insulated from those kinds of big dramas, with Dipper and Mabel as kind of these average middle class kids living a pretty normative life who find out about all the skeletons in their family’s closet over the course of the show. Also you’d think Stan would at least mention Shermie’s pipe game.
So if Shermie isn’t their older brother or their younger brother, who is he? Well, I don’t know, to be perfectly honest. I know there’s the time paradox gag in Lost Legends, but Shermie going through some crazy time dilation adventure is also something that feels off to me for the boring grandpa role he plays in the family dynamic, and it adds unnecessary wackiness and intrigue to the otherwise more grounded extended Pines family.
The scant other mentions of him aren’t very helpful for getting a clearer picture - Ford writes about him weirdly distantly for a brother in his journal. The only reference to him is him being full-named like he’s a stranger - which, I mean, I think it makes sense for the writers because it clears up any lingering “wait, is Shermie short for a male or female name?” confusion amongst people who didn’t play the DS game, while still letting them avoid “my older/younger brother” phrasing so as not to highlight the awkwardness of his place in the timeline and avoid canonizing a birth order for him. And to be fair, Ford in general seems 0% interested in his family once he gets back from the portal too: there’s some brief mentions, but he doesn’t have any questions about what they’re up to or whether his by-now-quite-elderly parents are even, y’know, alive. I think based on what Bill says about his family in the Book of Bill it can be assumed that Ford was estranged in all but name from his parents by the time he met Bill and being hunted across dimensions for 30 years certainly didn’t give him any opportunities to change his opinion on that, but this is getting off topic.
Anyway, now that I’ve rambled for a bit here’s me going through every Shermie theory I can think of and trying to present some evidence for all of them.
Theory 1: Shermie is Stan and Ford’s older brother and THE BABY is his child
Problems: The Pines are explicitly stated to only have two sons in ATOTS, and Ford is surprised to find out that he has niblings
Solution A: Shermie has been estranged from his family for long enough that the local high school principal has no idea he exists, and his parents don’t care to correct the mistake
Problem A: If Shermie isn’t in contact with his family why would they be looking after his baby?
Solution B: Shermie is not estranged, but for whatever reason the principal of Glass Shard Beach High has no idea he exists (he didn’t go to that school? The principal recently transferred from somewhere else?) and his parents still didn’t care to correct that mistake
Problem B: This makes it weirder that none of the characters in the flashback bring up his existence, and also doesn’t solve the issue of Ford acting like he hasn’t had niblings before Dipper and Mabel
Solution C: Shermie is trans and from the other characters’ perspective back in the 60s the principal was correct when he said there were only two Pines boys
Problem C: This still doesn’t solve the problem with Ford acting like he didn’t have any niblings, and maybe makes it a bit weird that Ford wouldn’t make any mention of it if he transitioned after 1982/3
Solution D: One of the above theories is correct and also THE BABY is not Shermie’s child but a fourth sibling or a random other baby being babysat
Problem D: who is this goddamn baby???
Solution E: Shermie IS estranged from his family and has also fucked off and left his child for them to raise
Problem E: Doesn’t really jive with him being at Dipper and Mabel’s birth or Stan calling him “a square”
Theory 2: Shermie is Stan and Ford’s younger brother and THE BABY
Problems: this makes both him and Dipper and Mabel’s parent very young parents, alongside possibly implying that Shermie died very young with how Stan refers to him in the past tense in Gnome Gemulets
Solution: there’s really nothing in canon saying they weren’t teen parents or that Shermie didn’t die in his forties (or that Stan wasn’t just using the past tense because he was telling old stories), it’s just kind of awkward
Bonus evidence: while Stan’s weirdly personal story about watching movies with your girlfriend leading to children ruining your life in Little Giftshop of Horrors is A) from a non-canon episode and B) said by Hirsch on twitter to have been something Filbrick said to him growing up, if you ignore Word of God it works pretty well as Stan remembering what happened to Shermie
Theory 3: Shermie is a normal age to have preteen grandkids but also isn’t Stan and Ford’s full brother
Problems: this is ridiculously blatant fanwank with zero in-text support aside from Stan and Ford never directly calling him their brother. It also has the same issues with who exactly THE BABY is as the standard Older Shermie Theory
Solution A: Shermie is Stan and Ford’s cousin and they’re referred to as great uncles because “first cousin twice removed Stan” doesn’t have a great ring to it
Problem A: when Ford hears about Shermie’s grandkids he specifically calls them his niece and nephew. While sure, this could be part of the same reasoning that has Dipper and Mabel calling the Stans their uncles in this theory, Ford at this point has no preexisting relationship with the concept of being especially close to kids-of-his-cousins'-kids, clearly wasn't very close with Shermie when they were both on the same planet, and singles out niece and nephew with a special kind of excitement that makes it seem like he's interested in the idea of a sibling of his having kids, rather than just more cousins which is something pretty much everyone has
Solution B: Shermie is a half-brother to Stan and Ford from another relationship of Filbrick’s
Problem B: this adds yet more convoluted family drama with zero canon evidence to the Pines family. However, since there is zero evidence for it there’s also nothing to really dispute it, seeing as how it’s mainly fanfic that has little relation to the canon backstory
Bonus evidence: Counting in dubiously canon sources such as Shmeb-You-Unlocked and the Stan DVD Commentary, Filbrick has had at least two careers before becoming a pawnbroker, which he was all throughout Stan and Ford’s childhood. Plenty of time to have had an entire other family, perhaps?
Theory 4: Shermie is THE BABY but Shmebulock’s conspiracy board from Lost Legends was correct when it brought up the possibility of a time paradox surrounding Shermie
Problem: wouldn’t the other characters notice that he was the wrong age?
Solution: it’s Gravity Falls so you can’t actually rely on people to act like normal human beings. This is another one where there’s no real evidence against it, it’s just kind of weird
Theory 5: Sherman is Stan’s middle name, and by calling them “Shermie’s” grandkids Stan is signalling to Ford that they’re secretly his grandkids… and THE BABY is his kid that he never got back in contact with, I guess?
Problems: why would Ford cover for this. Why wouldn’t Dipper and Mabel notice their grandpa doesn’t exist. Why
Solution: come on man
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sourw0lfs · 6 months ago
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dance with the devil - part seventeen
Words: 761 | Rating: E | CW: mentions of blood, panic attacks | AO3
one || sixteen || eighteen
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The sidewalk is painful under Steve’s feet with the pace he sets himself at once he reaches the bottom of the stairs. He thinks, vaguely, that there are more footsteps echoing behind him as he runs, trying in vain to catch up. He doesn’t look back to see for himself.
Instead he just runs.
He runs until his chest burns with a different kind of fire, until his legs beg for him to stop, and then he runs some more. The streets are eerily empty, or maybe Steve’s just too far gone to notice the stares he’s getting as he runs. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is putting distance between himself and those around him. There’s something wrong with him and he isn’t safe to be around. He’s killed someone, probably two someones. There can’t be a third and there can’t be a chance of that third being Robin.
The sidewalk gives way to packed dirt and rocks. The buildings give way to trees. Steve doesn’t stop.
His foot catches a protruding root, sending him sprawling. A sob leaves his lips unbidden as he tries to draw in breaths through his heaving lungs. His whole body hurts anew, no longer trained for being pushed to those kinds of limits, and Steve can’t even find the strength to push himself back up again. He just lays in the dirt, sobbing but thankful to be alone.
There’s no one for him to hurt in the woods. Everyone he cares about is safe.
Hurried footsteps reach his ears, filling stomach with dread as they close in on where he’s fallen, but Steve still doesn’t have the strength to get up. Instead he just closes his eyes and wills the person to not notice him there.
“Steve!” Eddie’s voice echoes through the trees as the footsteps pick up with purpose. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you can’t just take off like that.”
Steve cracks one eye open to look up at Eddie as he kneels down, eyes trailing over Steve’s body as if he’s checking for injuries. He looks even more exhausted than he had in the apartment for a moment Steve feels bad about it, gearing up to tell Eddie to go away. But then it hits him. Eddie’s already dead. Steve can’t kill him a second, surely. Which makes Eddie safe to be around.
“S’not safe,” he mumbles. “Had to… keep them safe…”
It takes every bit of energy Steve still has to get the words out, and he isn’t even sure Eddie hears them. He closes his eyes again, ready to become one with the ground in his exhaustion when Eddie’s hand clutches his shoulder. It sends a shock through Steve’s body, pulling free a yelp of surprised pain, before all of his aches, pains, and tiredness vanish. It leaves Steve feeling bereft and antsy as he sits up and glares at Eddie.
“I didn’t ask you to fix me,” he snaps as Eddie flops back this time, waving a hand lazily in Steve’s direction.
“Kind of my job, Steve,” Eddie reminds him. “Gotta keep you safe and well or Joyce is going to drag me to Hell by my ear or something.”
Steve snorts. “Pretty sure she’d forgive you for not taking care of a murderer,” he bites back.
The word leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but it’s the truth. He’s a murderer. He’s killed at least two people during whatever the weird blackouts he’s been having are. Even though they feel grossly like he’s not in control, Steve doesn’t really think that excuses anything.
“I don’t think it matters if you’re a murderer or not,” Eddie replies. “Probably gets me more points anyway, doing good deeds when I should leave you for dead.”
“Right, sure.”
Steve thinks the words are neutral enough, but it seems Eddie doesn’t, because he’s pushing himself into a sitting position a second later, eyes narrowed in Steve’s direction. “Do you want me to leave you for dead?” he asks. “Or do you want me to help you figure out what’s going on?”
The questions give Steve pause, frowning heavily in Eddie’s direction. Since getting the full timeline of events back, he hadn’t stopped to consider figuring out why. His only concern had been keeping people safe. But if they could figure it out…
“Do you think figuring out could help it stop happening?” he asks in return.
Eddie shrugs, expressing trying and failing to fall somewhere in the realm of nonchalant. “Can’t hurt to try, right?”
Steve can’t find a reason to disagree.
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Tag list below the cut!
@chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch
@quevadilla @puppy-steve @penny00dreadful @momotonescreaming @stevesbipanic
@dawners @little-birch-boy @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1
@vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd @littlebluejane @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lawrencebshaggoth
@sadisticaltarts @queenie-ofthe-void @r0binscript @anaibis @hairdressersdoitwithstyle
@goodolefashionedloverboi @spookednsaucy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @flustratedcas @mugloversonly
@ellietheasexylibrarian @damnpotatoe @awkwardgravity1
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careydraws · 2 years ago
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Here's a writeup about the process of making this 12x18" poster that's in the booksamillion special edition of TAZ: the Eleventh Hour GN! It looks like there are still some available for preorder!
Long post about how I got from the initial options I sent to my editor to the final below the cut (or unlocked on my patreon here).
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We found out pretty late in the life cycle of making the actual book artwork that we were going to get to do a special edition that included a poster, which was nice because it meant I had a good sense of what cool moments in the book we might want to highlight... and what existing art I might be able to use as scaffolding, because these books are on extremely tight deadlines and there was not a separate timeline for painting a whole poster. So when we can avoid doing that, it saves me a lot of time and heart/wristache... but it's not always possible! spoilers: it was not possible this time around.
I started out by sending my editor two options for poster designs: one that would save some work by letting me reuse cover & interior elements that happened to be drawn at a large size, and one that was loosely based on a page with a fun splash panel, but would require total redraw and repaint. As I said in an email,
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...Unfortunately, we both agreed that the one that was going to be more work (A) was the cooler choice & would make for a better poster. Also, by this point I was thinking about doing a version of the cover for a lenticular, and I didn't want to double-dip with fun promo materials. So it goes!
The composition was off, since this was based on a comics page with, y'know, dialog and other panels on it. We talked about whether adding some kind of a text treatment might help balance it out, but ultimately,
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[narrator: she would later regret this.]
ANYWAY, once I was all-in, it was time to get goin! First, I made a small color thumbnail, then scaled it WAY up for print and took it back to pencils to space out the trio & give everyone a little more room.
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Next I inked and flatted it! Flatting is the only time I can really zone out & watch something while I work, it was a nice break.
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Then I blocked in big hue shifts for the ground and sky; painted big shadow shapes, and drew in the text; and finally added some details like bounce light and atmospheric perspective blue shifts.
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One final touch-up pass with some additional cool tones-- If I were to do this again, I might tone it down a LITTLE bit on the reflections on Magnus's gear… but then again, it looks cool, so I might not.
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And there it is! 
Next time I do this, I want to try to keep the initial color thumbnail much looser- I got frustrated at the rendering stage because I'd done most of the fun work of thinking about color already, and ended up feeling like I was treading the same ground twice. It's tough to find a balance between enough planning to be ready and not so much that I lose something in the work!
I'm always happy to get process questions over on patreon, it's fun to talk more about this sort of thing!
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hyatoro · 1 year ago
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Hello! Firstly, i LOVE your writing! It's so nice to read and it's very enjoyable. This is also my first ask with you. Unfortunately I am not too sure whether this counts as an outline or a headcannon (from my understanding headcannons are about the character itself and outlines are more like headcannons for the scenario but im not sure??? maybe this is a outline???). No worries if you don't to of course!
Anyway, may I have an NSFW about Hwang Minso spending his heat with reader? Especially if it's just really sweet and fluffy in a way. I think he deserves the tenderness, y'know? Bonus if the affection is like a warm blast of sunshine on a dreary day. (I imagine, Alpha reader is being sweet and fluffy and just really gentle but the unwavering attention and tenderness is overwhelming for the guy and so sweet it burns in a way. I want the guy to be overwhelmed by it. I imagine he's begging for more and more even if he's overstimulated though reader would stop in a heartbeat if he needed them to)
Again, no pressure!
Headcanons are just fast fun facts with no real timeline in mind. The scenario “outlines” are basically what I’ve been doing where it’s a scenario, but I don’t put in the full effort of making it a fic even if it may seem like one. 
The definitions are loose as hell and I tend to just write what I want. The two reasons why I have the outline distinction is because I don’t need the pressure of cranking out a fully polished work and it also shows who reads my rules. Thank you by the way for asking!
The writing below probably leans more towards full blown fic but the difference is that I would’ve gone into a lot more detail for one instead of an ‘outline’.
Onto the actual content!
Hwang Minsu
The man couldn’t believe he’d gotten this far. It all started with a chance encounter where he met you. The light of his life, and the reason why he evolved from the mindless zombie he was. 
You accepted him into your life. Even after you caught him pulling your empty can out of the recycling. Even when you were initially weirded out, you gave him another chance. 
You’d even asked him out. On a date! And then you asked if he wanted to date you too! 
Honestly he questioned it a bit, scared that it was all some sort of sick joke life was playing on him. But you showed him consistency and proved yourself reliable, not that he had any doubts in you as a person. You were perfect. 
It was amazing, having schedules that were similar. The two of you took to the nights like it was your own kingdom and every night with you was memorable. 
His favorite so far was the time you two went to karaoke. You watched him with adoration, a sight he had to familiarize himself with, as he sang his heart out badly. He knew he wasn’t a great singer and it didn’t faze you one bit. You were just happy that he felt comfortable enough to do so in front of you. 
And when you pulled him into your lap, rewarding him with kisses as you chose your next song, he knew there was no turning back for him. Not when you were all that was ahead. 
Now here he was, opening the door to you. Well, a giant pile of your clothes and blankets hiding your face. But you were behind it all. 
He shuffled out of the way and let you in, catching any garments that fell to the ground behind you. His eyes widened however when you dropped everything unceremoniously to the ground. 
“Just arrange everything how you want it, baby. Let me know if you need help.”
The ugly face he made as he held back tears made you laugh affectionately, stepping towards him to cradle his face gently and kiss his forehead. His face got even more scrunched up as he placed his hands on yours, holding them there. 
Once he got over that surge of emotions he enlisted your help in making his nest, the most elaborate he’d ever made in his life. Considering what had happened when around the time he started to get more intense heats he never really had the guidance nor the chance to go all out. 
You help him arrange everything so that it’s cozy but roomy enough to fit two people. His mattress was on the floor so it made everything easier. 
As he got comfortable you left the apartment and he sat up, panicking a little wondering where you were going. But you quickly returned with a bunch of food, drinks, and other supplies for his heat. His face scrunched again as he pouted, almost telling you that you didn’t have to, but the look on your face stops him. Instead, he opens his arms and you crawl into his nest, kissing his cheeks as you two lay down together. 
He’s content to lay in your arms as you fall asleep, awaiting for the wave to come crashing. He sleeps easily so you’re more than welcome to watch TV or scroll through your phone. All he needed at that moment was your warmth and scent. 
When he wakes up he’s burning and he’s half-expecting you to not be there. For this all to have been some sort of sick dream that his heat-addled mind concocted. But you’re there. As real as ever, and he whines loudly when he buries himself into your neck, grinding on you.
You stir awake easily enough and your mind slowly catches up with the fact that your boyfriend is in heat. When you finally realize what’s happening you get up and immediately get to work. Your hand slides under his baggy t-shirt, caressing his burning skin as he whines even more. When you help him out of it you don’t leave a spot untouched, for which he is grateful for. 
Then you palm him through his pants and he cries out, already begging you for more. To hurry up and get rid of all the clothes on both of you. Ever the kind partner, you oblige.
He’s panting and spread out on the mattress, surrounded by both of your belongings. 
His scent is the strongest it’s ever been and you pounce on him, kissing him senseless as your nose welcomes the pleasant notes of passionfruit. He’s so lovely under your touch, moaning and whining for you, hips constantly bucking up for more. 
Despite how much his body naturally prepared itself you still reach for your supplies, adding more lube to his hole. His eyes practically turn into hearts when he sees you stroking your alpha cock with even more lube. 
His hole fluttered and his cock twitched as he shifted his hips closer to you in an attempt to put you inside. 
Ever merciful, you test him with a few fingers, and he mewls at the way you spread them, feeling how you stretch his pussy like that. But he’s impatient and tells you to please stop teasing him. You’re not, but you can understand where he’s coming from. You mentally note to show him what teasing really feels like another day. 
Thanks every being in existence and every moment in history for how it led to the moment where you finally shove it in. Yeah, he’s dramatic. 
Instantly clings to you. His hands grasp at your back and you’re grateful he keeps his nails short as he scratches your back to fuck him harder. 
He needs the first one hard and fast, he explains. And you listen. Your precious little omega deserves the world during his heat. 
His cries fill the small apartment as he cums quickly, spurting out white ropes in between you. And just as fast as he came he tells you to keep going. You’re still good to go so you keep it up. 
You guys spend the next few hours fucking on every surface in the apartment until you end back up on the mattress, where his legs shake and he’s got cum dripping from both his cock and pussy. When he tries to ask for more, you chuckle and shake your head, telling him that he can barely move and that it’s time for rest. 
You use what’s left of your own energy cleaning him up and changing the heavily soiled sheets to get him comfortable, urging him to sit up to eat and drink before falling back asleep. 
Despite having asked for more, he was more than content, absolutely satisfied on all fronts. His red butt and bruised hips were neat little reminders of the mess you two made.
When you finish cleaning up from that first bout of his heat you rejoin him in the nest, peppering kisses all over his face until he sighs happily into your neck again. Because you were content and calm your scent was too, and it worked wonders in relaxing his muscles as he melted into you. 
He fell back asleep, amazed that he knew you’d be there for him when he woke up again. 
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innocentlymacabre · 1 month ago
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Terms and Conditions Apply
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Micro Monday Edition 6 was sent out Monday morning! Sign up now to get priority access to more of my writing.
Alastor McGumbo had a name almost as ridiculous as he looked, not that anyone would ever dare tell him so. He took a long drag of his cigarette and turned to his top hat-wearing client, an accessory he believed to be universally nonsensical. The job had been beyond insane to begin with, but it had only gotten steadily worse since work began; the chocolate river running across the entire compound had been the least of his worries.
“Look, you can make the ground edible, but to keep it cured and set you’re going to need to keep this room chilled. And for a room this size, that’s going to a few thousand right there – and no, you cannot pay me in chocolate. The answer to that question will never be yes, so stop asking.”
William’s face fell. “No matter, my good man,” he said, recovering with a literal pep in his step. “You will be paid in full. With legal tender from this here country!”
Alastor’s response was to grunt. He barked an incomprehensible order at one of his people, but the boy scurried off anyway, apparently having understood him perfectly.
William leaned over Alastor. Standing almost a whole foot taller than him, he was able to do so very literally. Everything was literal with William, as Alastor learned only too late. When William said he wanted pneumatic tubes big enough to fit an elephant, Alastor had just laughed – until the job began and he had to figure out a way to do just that.
“Anything else?” William asked in a voice laced with artificial sweetener. Although he apparently wouldn’t dream of putting the stuff in his chocolate.
Alastor straightened up and pushed past him. There was lots else. “With all the extra pipes you’ve got running through the place – the chocolate, the transport, what have you – in the confusion, it seems regular old plumbing has been neglected in Room 2. We’re going to have to rip up the flooring and lay that down. We’re looking at about a month’s delay there – and that’s if I can get Romey to wrangle a couple extra hands for the job. I told you adding all of those pipes would only lead to disaster, and here we are. But no matter, it doesn’t matter who was right – I was – and who insisted on eccentricity.
But, blessing in disguise, because the “cooking marble” you insisted upon for the room’s walls so that you could “roll and dole” – was it? – has come in but there are cracks in the shipment. I warned you that would happen, if you remember, so you can’t hold me liable. Ordering something that delicate from that far away, no way it was going to arrive undamaged. I can fix it, but it will no longer be sanitary enough to bake on. Even if you manage to get the health department to sign off on the rest of this lawsuit waiting to happen, no way will they go in for that.”
William seemed unbothered by the issues. “Oh, no matter. Pipe a little frosting into the cracks and throw it into a kiln. That’ll fix it right up without invoking the ire of the health department.”
“Uh huh,” Alastor replied uncertainly. “Okay, well, moving on. Those trees you wanted? Candy cane and gummy worms for vines?” Alastor internally groaned at the words coming out of his mouth. “They need two different soil types if you want them to continue to grow and putting them next to each other would mean erecting an impermeable barrier between the two, which in turn means an extended timeline and extra cost for the barrier. I would say move one of them to another room. Keep things simple.”
“Oh no, that simply won’t do,” William said firmly. He had been fiddling around with something in his hands the entire conversation but this seemed to demand his full and present attention. “Those trees need to stay together. Pulling from all sources of cacaotastic fauna is an unmovable requirement of what that room represents.”
Alastor let out a heavy sigh. He was losing his patience with this man. “William -”
“- my name is Willy. Willy Wonka. You’ll do well to use it.”
“I am not calling you that.”
“You are aware that all of these extras mean extra manhours, yes?” Alastor pushed on. “Come payment time, I don’t want you dragging your feet and whinging over all the charges.”
“Yes, by my estimations we’re already a hundred and twenty percent over the budget I gave you. How’s that? Am I right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I already said you’d be paid in full, so I really don’t see what you’re standing here for. And no, not in chocolate, although I still think you should at least consider it.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a squat square wrapped in yellow, a golden W stamped across it.
“I don’t want your candy, Willy,” Alastor pushed out slowly, forcing a tenuous smile across his face. Willy didn’t bring up the fact that Alastor had already pocketed the chocolate for himself. “I just want to make sure my people are paid.”
“It’s chocolate, not candy, but fret not! You just handle the construction and I’ll handle the little stacks of paper."
“I’ll send you an invoice...” And with those inspiring words, Alastor walked off, readying himself to deal with whatever new thing was due to go exasperatingly wrong.
↝✧↝
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poorlydrawndirk · 1 year ago
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We're on air.
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More precisely, I was on air when I recorded this, but the details are largely irrelevant. Because I don't really feel like covering fuckin' introductory quantum mechanics and telling you exactly how the influence of the Skaian universe, when applied at the quark level and taken alongside the probabilistic effect of quantum behavior, superposes via particle states and results in the formation of what you might refer to as "overlapping timelines". And that's already getting real abecedarian about this shit.
Yeah, sue me. Try boning up on basic physics while you're at it.
So. I'm sure you'd love to hear about how I managed to rig this sick as hell channel-cum-blog up and get it to straddle the space-time continuum like an antediluvian Olympic gymnast doing mad splits over baby's first toy pony, but that ain't the point of this little exercise. Posting what's effectively a vlog is enough of an onanistic venture without adding Skaian Principles For Dummies: Electric Boogaloo to the schedule.
Where was I?
(Rhetorical question. Don't answer, if it needed to be said.)
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The name's Dirk.
Strider. Yeah, that Strider.
I'd be more worried about internet safety, but seeing as there are only up to two people alive around here no matter how far you pull my timeline back, and I'm one of 'em, it doesn't exactly compute. Face it, brosephine: you aren't getting to year 24xx post-hilarocaust, and you sure aren't getting past that. Wasn't shat out of a lab yet when you were committing identity theft and scamming doddering old ladies out of their sadsack pensions.
(If you manage to get pizza delivered out here, I'll tip extra.)
Besides, you already knew my name, didn't you?
Maybe your next question's going to be:
"Why are you calling this a vlog when it's obviously just a blog?"
Or maybe,
"Why is your URL poorlydrawndirk when it's totally malapropos?"
Buckle in, kids. Strap yourself into that convertible toddler-safe harness and keep your ass glued tight to all the prime polyester-lined foam, because this ride's about to pull into the station and vehicular standards are some passé 21st century horseshit.
The first thing you have to understand is that even peering upon the brink of these echelons of irony is a skill that you'll never grasp in your life. But that's fine. I'm around. And if it puts your mind at ease,
I'll be the one pulling the strings here.
(There's the tired callback. It's not wrong, but it's tired. Worn out enough for it to be begging you to take it out back behind the shed and put it out of its misery.)
(I'll leave it at that for now, because self-referencing is one thing, but if I get any more meta, I'll have to start narrating in twelve-point Times New Roman.)
Anyway, I'll be breaking it down, just this once. Magnanimous as hell, I know. I could wax poetic and in doing so obfuscate the actual meaning once more from obtuse minds, thereby adding another strata to irony so layered that it's settled past sedimentary and is ready to unearth some fossil formations, but let's be real. That shit would fly over your head so far it'd be trying to dial ground control at Houston.
Here we go.
Vlogs aren't cool; making one ironically is.
Putting in this much effort into making a multiversal vlog makes it cooler, ironically.
Putting in this much effort to make a multiversal vlog when the doomed timelines are all inherently fuckin' doomed, as the name implies, and therefore functionally useless to communicate with, makes it more ironic.
I have Heart powers and am able to achieve my ultimate self through my alpha timeline. Therefore, not only is this pimped-out vlog functionally useless, but I actually don't need it at all.
Which means this wasn't too hard to set up to begin with. Ironic, considering the complex presupposed conditions necessary for bridging that 'verse gap.
And despite framing this as a vlog, this is obviously a blog.
Even though it's just a blog, all these drawings I've made had you convinced that I really thought I was posting a vlog.
And in a way, I'm still making one. It ain't the traditional format, but the almost videographic mannerisms I've been laying on you more than compensate for the fact that the video part of "vlog" doesn't exist.
Except it does, for me.
And because it does, none of these pictures are drawn to begin with. They're all film stills. Screenshots, if you prefer.
Which makes the qualifier of "poorly drawn" untrue.
But it's also almost true, because you can call them poorly drawn by virtue of them not even being drawn. Ride that definition of "poorly" down the one-way rail and you're here, selfie central, population two, me and you.
Of course, that means we have to cover the quandary of truth itself. What constitutes the truth? Titillate that thought for a second.
If I consider the attached files to be selfies, but you consider them to be illustrations, which is it actually?
An analysis of the "truth" means that we have to start delineating how much of this is subjective, tying us in bed with the concept of knowledge. The Socratic take calls for dialectical conversation and inquiry via questioning; therefore, if I just bequeath my knowledge to you on a pretty little metaphorical platter, it won't mean fuckall. So we have to keep digging. Get your pickaxe ready, 'cause we ain't hitting any diamonds of wisdom any time soon.
In fact, maybe that ain't the right direction. Flip it turnways. We gotta climb a li'l higher for what we need.
Maybe we gotta head to the roof.
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now. brought cal.
where making this HAPEN.
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Haha.
Just fuckin' with you.
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Welcome to my blog, dude.
Want water? Imagine I got you a nice, chilled glass.
Let's get this parasocial relationship pumping.
Questions? Concerns? Misguided pseudo-parental queries about whether or not it's safe for your pipsqueak to be exposed to a full dose of radically Stridered bullshit?
Cool.
Make it all three and drop it in the asks, yeah?
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dannyphannypack · 10 months ago
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Happy Holiday Truce @ghozteevee !
I'm so sorry about the wait! I'd say the holidays got away from me, but I think procrastination is pretty true-to-form for me. Something I'll definitely work on in the New Year. I really hope it's still January 3rd for you!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little story <3 I took some inspo from two of your prompts: post identity reveal family outing and sibling bonding. The sibling bonding is in the first quarter or so, the parental bonding is in the last bit. Also, the conclusion definitely ran away from me! Very Brother Bear vibes up in here. I hope that's okay!
Enjoy! :3
Word Count: 3280
Danny gasped awake with a shiver, barely catching the green of his eyes as it caught on the shiny, canvassed ceiling of their tent. His breath fogged in front of him, visible in the quickly dimming glow. It served as a warning of what he already knew had awoken him, but it was nice to get the confirmation anyway: there was a ghost nearby.
He rubbed the crust from his eyes as he allowed his brain time to wake up the rest of the way. The good news was that it didn’t feel like anything overly powerful. The bad news was that if it tripped his Ghost Sense, then it was powerful enough—and more than likely causing havoc, because it was clearly feeling some big emotions and those emotions usually amounted to some brand of anger. It also felt distinctly feral, and given their locale, it was safe to bet it was an animal spirit of some kind. Those could be especially unpredictable, and he wasn’t in the mood.
Danny looked over at the sleeping bag where his sister slept—seeing in the dark hadn’t been a problem for a long time, with or without the aid of glowing eyes—and he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest as she quietly snored. Now, whether or not to wake her was the question. The Ghost Assault Vehicle would be the safest place for her if things went haywire, but undoubtedly she’d be worried and clingy and want to help, which he also wasn’t in the mood for.
Ultimately, though, safety overruled whatever annoying sibling feelings she might stir up. Danny dislodged himself from his own sleeping bag and crawled across the floor to her, the waterproof fabric beneath him making rustling noises all the way.
“Psst,” he whispered, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Jazz.”
“Whazzat?” she asked, jerking. “Danny?”
“Hey. There’s a ghost.”
Her eyes blew open. “Like, here? Now?”
Yeah, maybe he could’ve handled that better. “Not yet,” he amended. “But I’m heading out. You should probably get in the Gav, just in case.”
“The G-A-V, Danny, not the ‘Gav.’” It was an old argument, one they hadn’t really argued over in years. Danny figured that Jazz probably found it endearing now that she was out of the house and missing him for most of the year. She sighed as she sat up and reached for the ground, hands fumbling towards her glasses. “You’re going alone? At least tell Mom and Dad first. And help me with a light, please.”
Danny summoned a ball of ectoplasm and sent it floating up towards the domed ceiling, where it lit the whole tent in a dim, soft blue. He grimaced. “I was kind of hoping you’d do that.”
Danny’s parents had been informed of his little secret only a week ago, and all-in-all it had gone down pretty well. The timing had been strategic, of course; Danny was going off to college at the end of the summer, and his parents needed to know why their newest ghostly ally would be disappearing from Amity for the entire school year (barring holidays and emergencies, if all went well). Going to college was a failsafe he knew he hadn’t needed, but wanted anyway—seeing alternate timelines where his parents were accepting of his after-school activities was very different from actually experiencing it in his own, after all. They’d reacted much as expected, though. Surprised. Excited. Sad. Guilt-stricken.
Jazz looked at him with something that bordered on pity, and it made him squirm. “I can if that’s what you really want, Danny,” she allowed. “But you know why I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Okay, no need to get all mopey about it,” Danny deflected, clambering up to his knees (the tent wasn’t tall enough to stand, which kind of put a damper on his whole ‘stoic’ front. Not that he’d admit that). “It just…still feels weird. But I can do it!”
Jazz raised her hands in fake surrender and fought a smile. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a big boy now, I got it.” She unzipped her sleeping bag and cast the cover aside. “I’ll go hide. Though…if it’s big enough that you needed to wake us up, maybe you should do more than just let them know.”
“Like?” Danny asked, just to be obstinate. He knew what Jazz was hinting at.
Jazz rolled her eyes. “Like ask for help, you big dummy.”
Danny sighed. It’d be the first time working with them since…“I don’t know if we’re at that level yet, Jazz.”
“You were before you told them,” Jazz pointed out with a raised brow.
“It’s different,” he stressed.
“Okay, well, different or not, you need to tell them you’re leaving, at the very least.” Jazz crawled over her sleeping bag towards the door and unzipped it with a practiced, fluid motion. “After you,” she said with a dramatic gesture towards the dark campfire and forest beyond.
Danny grumbled as he passed, and once out of the threshold he let the ectoplasmic ball lighting the inside of the tent wink out, just to hear Jazz’s indignant “Hey!” from behind him. Seconds later he heard (and saw) her flashlight click on behind him; ectoplasm-powered and too big for its own good, Danny was sure that thing created its own light pollution. He refused to use it on principle.
Danny walked the short trek to his parents’ tent and crouched to get the zipper, deciding against intangibility just in case one of his parents was awake enough to notice a shadowy silhouette phase through the wall. On the other side, Jack snored with the force of a train engine; Danny could swear it was rattling the zipper out of his hands as he fumbled with it.
The inside was dark, but Jazz’s flashlight outside cast long shadows across the floor. Danny moved out of the way so that the light could hit his parent’s faces; Danny knew his mother would have in ear plugs, so this was really the only safe way of waking her beyond shaking, which Danny knew from experience could be…startling, sometimes.
He watched her brows furrow before her eyes squinted open. She rubbed at her eyes with one hand and took an ear plug out with the other. “Danny? What happened?”
“Um, there’s a ghost,” Danny said (muttered, more like). “I was gonna go—”
“Hold on, I can’t hear you,” Maddie said, turning to shake her husband. “Jack, wake up. Danny needs something.”
“Whazzat?” Jack yelled, in much the same way as Jazz. Like father, like daughter. “What happened?”
“Uh,” Danny said, feeling tenser now with both their attentions on him. “There’s a ghost.” He pointed north. “Half a mile that way, maybe. Getting closer. I was gonna go deal with it, but I told Jazz to get in the RV just in case.”
Maddie frowned. “You were gonna go deal with it? By yourself?”
Danny glanced behind him, where Jazz was giving him a thumbs up from across the campsite. “Um, no,” he lied, turning back around. “You guys can come. If you want. You don’t have to.”
“Of course we want to, Danno!” Jack shouted. He had positively lit up, like grogginess wasn’t and had never been an issue for him. “I’ll go get the Fenton Grappler!”
“Do you know what kind of ghost it is, sweetie?” Maddie asked, still watching him. “What equipment do we need to bring?”
Danny hadn’t thought that far ahead. “It’s an animal, I think. It feels pretty feral. It’s not that strong, either, but—”
“Animal spirits can be unpredictable,” Maddie said, echoing Danny’s earlier considerations. “Alright, we’ll bring the capturing gear.” She paused. “If…that’s okay?”
Danny almost laughed; he’d never heard his mom sound so unsure when it came to ghost hunting. “That sounds good, Mom,” he said. “I’ll go get my boots on.”
— — —
Danny led the way through the timber with his parents, feeling a little silly in human form but unwilling to change nonetheless. It was nice to walk, sometimes, even when flying would be quicker and less taxing. And he could pass his feet intangibly through those pesky fallen branches and thorny bushes, so really it wasn’t all that worse than strolling down an Amity sidewalk. There was, he told himself, no other reason he might want to stay human in this scenario. He certainly wouldn’t feel uncomfortable otherwise.
“Are we getting close, honey?” Maddie asked after helping Jack over a rotted trunk.
The irony wasn’t lost on Danny; he’d asked the same question on the RV ride there. He felt around in his chest, feeling for the speed at which his core buzzed it’s steady warning, the strength of the tug. “Nearly there,” he promised.
“That’s a real neat trick, Danny-boy,” Jack praised. Danny could hear the smile in his voice. “You know, I always wondered how Phantom heard wind of a ghost faster than we did. Didn’t I, Mads?”
Danny kicked at some dead leaves and sticks at the ground, embarrassed. “That ghost alarm you guys developed works similarly. It maybe doesn’t have quite the range, though.”
Maddie hummed, contemplating. “And that’s what woke you up tonight?”
“Yeah.”
Maddie reached out to set her hand on his shoulder, stopping him. He closed his eyes before he turned to face her, bracing. If he hadn’t caught on to the concern in her voice before, he was definitely feeling it now. “How often do ghosts wake you up?” she asked, quiet.
Danny opened his mouth to lie and then thought better of it. That was a habit he was determined to break with his family, whether they’d like the answer or not. “Once or twice a night,” he admitted, slowly. When Maddie made a pained noise, he quickly added, “Usually it’s nothing to worry about, though, so I just go back to sleep. Like, at least half the time.”
She bit her lip. Guilty. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that, hun.”
“Can we not do this?” Danny pleaded. These were the kind of conversations he’d been trying to avoid for the past week. “It’s my fault for not telling you guys, not your fault for not noticing.”
“We know that’s how you feel, Danny,” his mom allowed. She shared a glance with Jack from over her shoulder. “But we can’t help but feel like some of that lies on us, too. For noticing the clues but not acting on them in the ways we should have.”
“We want to know now, though,” Jack said, coming up behind his wife. “Warts and all.”
“Is this an intervention?” Danny asked, nervous. It felt like his core was constricting in his chest. “Because I get enough of that from Jazz.”
“It’s not an intervention,” his mom denied, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s just…Why haven’t you turned into Phantom yet, Danny?”
Danny wasn’t sure if he heard that right. It felt like the conversation had spun 180. “What?” he asked.
“This isn’t exactly an easy hike, sweetie,” she said. “Mostly uphill, through brambles and across fallen trees.”
“It’s been fine,” he argued. “I’ve been phasing through most of it.”
“If we were Tucker or Sam, you would have flown us there,” Maddie finished, and, well, he couldn’t deny that logic. “So why haven’t you?”
Danny frowned. “I didn’t think we were at that stage yet.”
“We’re not on a date, Danny; we’re your parents,” she sighed, shaking her head. “There is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you. I changed your diapers; I should know.”
Danny frowned. If she had said that two weeks ago, before they’d known, he might not have believed her. He did believe her this time, but it was marred by something else—this aching, squeezing feeling in his chest, riddling his core with fear and anxiety and confusion and—
Oh. That wasn’t from him.
“Look out!” Danny yelled, grabbing hold of his parents and shoving them to the ground. His shield came up just in time: a glowing black bear, absolutely massive for its species, came barreling down upon it, scratching and growling and baring sharp, sharp teeth with saber-toothed tiger levels of length. He flinched against its strength but held steady, keeping his hands in front of him to feed ectoplasm into the bubble that surrounded them.
Perhaps realizing that its efforts were futile, the bear backed away, roared once in warning, and then took off running in the opposite direction, taking a moment to pause awkwardly at a hollowed tree stump before disappearing over the hill.
“Okay,” Danny breathed, allowing the shield to dissipate. There was that conversation out the window. He was almost grateful for it; he’d always been better at fighting than he was at talking, and staying human during this battle was quickly becoming a moot point, anyhow. “Alright, here’s the plan: you guys follow from back here, and I’ll fly up and cut it off from the front. Sound good?”
He was about to run off then, but Maddie grabbed his chin and twisted him to face her. Her eyes scanned over him faster than Danny could even blink, checking for injuries at a near-inhuman speed. 
Once he got over his shock at being grabbed, he started to squirm. “Mom, stop. I’m fine,” he murmured, trying to turn away to hide the way embarrassment was quickly flooding his cheeks with red.
Once satisfied, Maddie nodded and placed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Be safe,” she commanded in a no-nonsense voice, like he’d be grounded for a week if he came back injured. Then, she finally let him go.
“You too,” he said, turning away. Squeezing his eyes shut, he transformed—focusing on the way his core bloomed outward instead of the stares on his back—and took off into the air.
Going on a bear hunt. He was sure there was a kid’s song about that.
Danny followed the tug in his gut from the sky; it was even stronger now that he’d transformed and they’d gotten…acquainted, for lack of a better word. He couldn’t shake that weird anxious worry in his gut—the one that seemed to be emanating from the bear in waves—but he could fight through it, and that’s what mattered.
Animal spirits were all instinct and emotion, wrapped up into something tight and cohesive that ectoplasm wouldn’t have trouble latching onto. Usually that something was governed by anger, which, as far as Danny knew, was the strongest emotion in a living animal’s arsenal. Human spirits could end up governed by that too, but there was more nuance to the reasoning behind anger with a person: jealousy, revenge, even loneliness could rearrange into different flavors of the same base emotion. It was easier to assuage because of its complicatedness; when there was a direct physical link to someone’s anger, there was something to solve.
It was more difficult to get angry animal spirits to move on. They were angry at everything and nothing all at once. The whole world fueled their anger, and so there was little that could calm them down.
Fear, though…He’d never met an animal spirit governed by fear, or worry, or whatever anxious instinct this bear’s ectoplasm was releasing. Maybe he could turn this into a happy ending, for both him and the bear. He hoped he could, anyway.
Danny dived down in front of it, and from the way it twisted backwards and picked up its pace in the direction opposite of him (the direction towards his parents), it seemed the bear could sense him, too. He went intangible and picked up the pace, letting trees and leaves fly through him at a dizzying pace. Finally, the forest opened into a little clearing, and Danny threw up a green wall at the end of it, where the bear was trying to escape. It skid to a halt so fast it left deep gashes in the dirt, dropped something fuzzy and black from its mouth, and turned to face him.
Danny froze. There, curled beneath the ghost bear’s legs, was a single cub. It peered out from behind her, oblivious to the danger and curious as to the reason for their night’s interruption. More importantly, it did not glow like it’s mother. It was still alive.
Mother Bear growled a warning at the same time Danny’s parents started crashing through the brush nearest her. “Stop!” he shouted out, holding out a hand despite his parents not being able to see him. “Uh, stand down!”
“Danny?” His dad called. “What’s going on?”
Mother Bear was looking increasingly frantic. Panicking a little himself—whether from the emotions that he was accidentally leaching off her or the situation, he wasn’t sure—Danny made a split-second decision and thrust a dome over the top of her and her cub. It would shield them from any sudden bear attacks, true, but it also served as makeshift protection from any Fenton weaponry.
He trusted his parents not to shoot him. He wasn’t sure if he trusted them not to shoot Mother Bear.
“It’s safe now!” Danny called to his parents. “Um, leave your guns outside the clearing! And walk slowly!”
Danny was almost surprised to hear them listening. He didn’t know why. He had to stop doubting them.
“Oh,” Maddie said when she breached the tree line. Mother Bear rotated to face her and Jack as they stepped out, gnashing her too-long teeth and backing further over her cub to put it safely beneath her belly. It peeked out from beneath her paws. “It’s…a mother.”
She sounded shocked. Danny concurred.
“Come over here,” Danny told his parents. “Behind me. I’m gonna try something.”
He stepped forward as his parents came around the dome. Mother Bear watched them walk until they’d settled behind Danny, and already he could feel that fear worry stress easing, just from having all potential predators in-sight instead of surrounding her.
“Danny,” Maddie warned when he took another step forward. “Bears are extremely protective of their young.”
“I know,” Danny murmured, keeping his voice low. He inched forward, getting lower to the ground as he walked. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Mother Bear snarled statically, touching on Ghost Speak but unable to form full coherence. Worry, is what Danny was able to read from it. Worry. Baby. Danger.
Danny switched tactics, changing to Ghost Speak as he set his hands gently against the wall of the dome, emanating as many calming emotions as he could summon. Calm. Safe.
She flinched, but her teeth were shortening, growing less sharp. Baby Bear yawned beneath her, a kind of squeaking hum. Almost like a puppy. Like Cujo, maybe.
Calm. Safe. Danny promised, at the same time voicing sentences in English above the Ghost Speak’s static: “It’s okay. You’re safe. I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt him. You can let go. I’ll protect him. It’s alright.”
Mother Bear swayed, grew smaller. Promise. She growled. Staticked. No-nonsense voice. 
Promise. Danny responded.
Baby Bear nuzzled into Mother Bear, and she licked at his cheek as her body grew brighter and began dissipating, moving on. Baby Bear purred and purred.
She looked at Danny. Looked behind him, where his parents stood. Mother? she asked. With the emotions clogging her speech finally gone, he could actually understand her.
Danny nodded. “Yeah. That’s my Mom.”
Good. Mother Bear hummed, closing her eyes. Safe.
She disappeared, her glowing green fragments scattering on the wind.
Danny turned around to face his parents, and for the first time noticed that they were both crying. That was okay. He was crying, too.
He cleared his throat. “So. Anyway. Where’s the nearest Animal Sanctuary?”
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neptuniite · 2 years ago
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I really love your paintings! I was curious if you wouldn't mind, could you show your process and tips for oil painting?
Thanks for asking! I had gone and taken progress photos while working on my recent painting of Hickey: hopefully this is enough to walk you through a general idea of how I complete a painting, or at least an Alla Prima (single ~3 hour session) portrait. It's a chaotic process, especially in the beginning, but a lot of fun. I want to start first by saying that this isn't exactly a tutorial, just a showing of how I work. I also want to say that if you are starting out with oil painting, you should be painting from LIFE when possible, rather than from photos. Only thing is, in my case, I cannot wrangle Adam Nagaitis into my room, so photos it is, when it comes to fandom work. Anyways...
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Step 0. Brushes, paints, etc. I use sizes between 12-4, though I usually stick to 8 and 4 for most of my painting. Boar bristle brushes are great. For the paints, I'm using the Zorne palette: cadmium red, yellow ochre, titanium white, mars black. That's it. I don't bother to clean my palette between paintings, I usually mix new paint over what's there. Bad habit? Probably.
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Step 1. Sketching over another sketch you don't like (clean canvas who??) Yes, this looks like a nightmare. Yes, you aren't really supposed to do this. Typically, I start my paintings on a clean TONED canvas, meaning solvent + a neutral transparent paint so it's not just a pure-white ground. In my next process post I'll show this. However, if I'm lazy and forgot to prepare surfaces, then I'll paint over an older piece I don't like. This was a failed cast study (on primed paper, so I can cut it later) that is now being repurposed into a cold boy. Can you see Hickey? My sketching is usually done with a transparent dark (in this case, alizarin crimson + mars black) and solvent to thin it out. This is slightly more sketching than I would typically do. Main structure lines to focus on are the angles for the eyes and nose, and then the centerline for the face as a whole. You can use a caliper to check proportions at this stage.
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Step 2. Block in! With some paintings I'll block in the darks first, others I do the lights first. In this case, I started with the lights. The block-in stage for me consists of 2-3 values only. Dark and light. He looks scary. Goofy, even. You can see that the anatomy of the block-in is pretty bad, but that slowly gets corrected as the painting progresses.
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Step 3. Added in the dark background, because it was getting difficult for me to judge the values of the painting with that pesky cast portrait in the background. Typically this isn't an issue when you're painting on a proper surface, lol. I also added his rosy cheeks in on this stage. I love painting from those outdoor scenes, because everyone has bright pink cheeks :)
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Step 4. "Oh thank god, he has eyes now." I continue modeling the portrait by using intermediate values and highlights to round out the "planes" of the face. These planes are not that obvious in this particular painting, as the reference photo had very soft, ambient lighting. Always squint when looking at your reference to make sure you don't overstate shadows, especially in a case like this. I've also decided to leave the periphery of the face (hair, clothes, etc) very unfinished, almost untouched. Personal preference!
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Step 5. Take care of some drawing mistakes. Here I am scraping away some paint from the forehead, since I realized the hat was up too high. A palette knife is excellent for taking care of this.
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Step 6. Call it quits before you start overworking it too much :) I'll varnish this in a few weeks. Thanks for getting through to the end! I'll post more progress timelines in the future, as my process looks a little different depending on what I'm working on. Feel free to reach out if y'all have any questions.
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dreemurr-skelememer · 1 year ago
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Okay I keep getting confused on this and I hope u can give me an answer in a very simple, digestible, understandable way
How did Gin die?
after tantan (an au flowey, to clarify if you didnt know) possessed him and wrecked the place, gin was in recovery for a while
and it seemed like he was getting better. to the point that all his new cracks healed and he could safely move around again
but in the midst of hanging out w his brother, he suddenly just. started deteriorating without warning.
the thing is, he knew this was gonna happen. his father knew this was gonna happen. his brother knew this was gonna happen. they just didn't know when.
so yeah, ever so slowly, all of gin's close friends and family quickly came over to say their final goodbyes and he was gone.
:)
thanks for sending the ask!!! i'm completely willing to take any more asks explaining or clarifying anything about gin..i could literally talk about him all day, so if any of u have any more questions.....u know..........i could blabber about him all day..............
anyway i actually have an unfinished oneshot of me fully writing out gin's feelings as he was dying. i doubt i'll ever finish it so i'm gonna put it under the cut freely for you all to see. enjoy!
---
The world had felt like everything broke apart at that very moment.
It felt like a crack of lightning in a storm with a clap of deafening, resounding thunder as if it was too close for comfort. The kind that would send a jarring shiver and jolt around anyone nearby, ringing in an eardrum as if everything was destroyed at that very moment.
The Omega Timeline seemed blindingly bright and sunny on that day that it had happened, right outside the house that Gin settled in himself when he had first arrived in the area. He scoped it out meticulously, a piece of ground that reminded him just like home. It was in the middle of a forest with a bit of clearing around it, enough space for a yard for him to run around and play.
The memory was shut away as quick as it appeared, as Kin’s horrified screams rang out to the surrounding area. It was hard, shrilling, pained, and surprised all at once.
Gin’s eyes slowly attempted to open with that sound, yet a painful and sharp sting was prominent on the right side of his face.
He hissed greatly, wincing as his phalanges aim to rub against it. The pain was familiar, seething, and sharp. The familiarity reminded him of a faint feeling in the back of his mind, something foggy but not clear enough for him to visualize in his mind.
Gin’s face was shattered with cracks once more. He knew this.
His vision was as cloudy and as blurry as ever, staring at the tips of his fingers seeping blood. The blood glowed slightly, another familiar sight to him. But this time, he didn’t have time to process it, and nor did he care enough to. Quickly, footsteps began to circle him and his brother.
Ah, right. His brother… was here.
He finally looks up towards the person holding him ever since he fell over onto the grass underneath them through his hazy eyes. Kin’s face was warped with dread, dumbfounded and mortified at the sight of Gin shattered like glass once more. The scared expression on Kin’s face slowly started melting into an expression of sorrow, utter regret, as he processed what was happening at that very moment.
Every single vision that Kin saw, visions that he could never describe to anyone else. All the sights and dreams that only his father knows, ones of seeing his brother dead, were all finally making sense in his head.
It was always inevitable. He knew this, but why now? When everything was finally okay?
Such is fate, he assumes.
But I don’t like fate, he cried.
Fate gives me nothing but suffering.
Gin’s vision cleared up slightly as he began to reach up to his brother’s cheekbone, face immediately concerned. He’s crying. He shouldn’t be crying so much. Why was he crying so much? He still could not see as well as he wanted, but the tears dropping onto his own cheek from above said just as enough.
He had known the difference between the rain and tears, but either one, he’d wanted them to stop.
"...pap…" Gin managed to mutter out, his weak thumb brushing whatever tears poured out of his poor little brother's sockets. "...why are you crying..? Don't cry…" He continued on, the ringing and the sobbing getting a little louder.
"YOU'RE HURT!" His brother said, hands gently caressing Gin's newly formed cracks as not to hurt him any further.
"YOU'RE HURT AND I…and I…" A sniffle.
"...and I-I knew this would happen and yet…"
Gin felt a small squeeze on his free hand.
"...you didn't want it to happen, did you..?" Gin speaks a little more.
The cries grew a little bit louder.
The hand that squeezed Gin's held on a little bit tighter.
"Papyrus…" Gin's voice was airy, clearly a little bit out of breath. "I'm sorry, Kin…I should've taken care of myself a little better…" His already foggy vision started to get even mistier, feeling tears pool at the corners of his sockets. "I shouldn't…have been so naïve…"
---
thereare some things i'd definitely change, but here it is unaltered from the doc
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hell-drabbles · 7 months ago
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Wait after seeing your Lucifer pieces
I just realised do you know how shattering it'd be if Lucifer is the first person to see Companion after their anglification or after their fall
Lucifer watching his friend returned into a angel knowing full well what they'll go through and how he feels when he sees their mangled body fall to the earth of hell staining the ground like his did
Even better in Raqi timeline
Only he and Raqi know Companion is back and has to take care of them
I imagine Companion is in a vegetable state for a while before making enough recovery to think and speak
Dante Anon
Yeah you'd have to think of how the bones have probably set wrong, so they'd have to be reset. Their vision will definitely not be right for many a day, so, in their heavy brain fog and migrained state, the Embittered Companion would think they're back in the hands of the angels. Whatever healing the devils are trying to do is made excruciatingly hard because, for that moment, the Companion body keeps rejecting that power. Ever fierce, ever spiteful.
They'll need sponge baths for a time, then they'll need assistance for regular bathing so there'd be a shower chair for them to sit on while they're being washed. And then there's the physical therapy to think about. Man, their body is going to be such a hurting mess. Lot of chronic pain, tremors, cramps. Ouchies.
Recovery just ain't a sexy process but the dedication behind it is nice nonetheless.
Ah, Raqiel hasn't been in my head in a whiiiile. My boy! I have forgotten my boy! Anyways, Raqi over here doesn't hold the biggest reputation but his name has passed by others lips enough for Lucifer to probably have heard of him. After all, a lot of the bloodlust-y techniques that the angels use can be attributed to Raqi, so there's probably a certain amount of caution Lucifer has towards Raqi, but not in the sense that he feels Raqi will be of any danger to him. Raqi has most definitely heard of Lucifer but has probably only seen him just as Lucifer fell out of Heaven. To Raqi, Lucifer was the falling star that had him questioning just how strong his own love towards God is, how deep does his dedication truly go? Never really thought to question it up until now, Raqi was simply going with the flow.
"To me, Lucifer was always wingless." is what Raqi would probably say.
But anyways, once those first meetings are out of the way, I feel Raqi and Lucifer wouldn't mind being around one another, seeing as they're fellow outliers in the grand scheme of things. Can potentially annoy Lucifer when the topics of Raqi's kinks come up. He gets pretty talkative about them, which is amusing in it's own way considering how the angels usually are, but the novelty will probably wear away after a certain point.
That being said, I can imagine that Lucifer found the Companion first and probably sent for Raqiel to come to Paradise Lost, because he most certainly was looking for the Companion harder than anyone else.
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