#this actively takes away focus from the original point

[hasnomoxxie]

Could you tell us more about Dan from Levity Rises?

YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW LONG I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME AB LEVITY RISES

I recently updated the designs for them so I'll talk ab them all if you don't mind :]c

I'll add the most information on Dan though just for you bbg!

I do plan on making a few screenshot redraws (and potentially an intro animatic because an awesome person actually made a theme for this au)

THE MYSTERY TWINS ⇆ THE ORIGINAL MYSTERY TWINS

Stanley and Stanford Pines take on the roles of Dipper and Mabel! Stan's curious and is the more mystery focussed one whereas Ford is more energetic and active than his base counterpart.

Stanley is an adventurous young boy, looking for the next interesting trip to go on, initially thinking spending the summer at Levity Rises was going to be a waste of time. Though after arriving and finding the scrapbooks alongside the anomalies happening across Levity, he and his brother quickly became obsessed with finding out the secrets of the Rises, as well as who the mysterious Smile Pup(swapped with bill cypher) is.

Ford (often going by 'Six' or 'Sixer) is a happy go lucky and optimistic young child who is alot tougher than his base counterpart was at his age. Since it's typically only just been him and his brother, so he's eager to make the best of his summer by meeting new people, though he hides his polydactyly with gloves he changes frequently.

DIPPER ⇆ STANLEY

Dipper takes the role of Grunkle Stan in this au!

Owner of the mystery shack, Grunkle Mason- or (Big) Dipper to people around Levity Rises- is the resident faux scientist of the town. His personality is more eccentric, tending to get hyper fixated on paranormal paraphernalia, to the point in where he does lock himself away for periods at a time.

Not much is known about his origins, he just kind of always existed on the outsidea of the town, but after opening the shack to the public, people quickly accepted his presence due to his quirky personality.

MANLY DAN ⇆ SOOS

Dan actually takes the role of Soos in this au, being the resident handyman of the mystery shack! Though often the lines blur between his role and Wendy's from the original. Wanted to keep it flexible yk?

Dan's a real dude's bro, pretty dim witted and blunt but often chill and level headed- Unless he's challenged- dude's competitive as hell, it's actually crazy. His mother, dubbed 'womanly wendy', is the toughest lady in town, owning a diner, aptly named 'Wendy's'.

Dan enjoys working at the Shack as it's one of the few places that'll let him freely experiment with his logging with the nearby trees for his own projects and adding fixtures onto the shack, which Dipper is pretty thankful for since he can focus his efforts on other things. It's also because of this reason that Dipper puts up with Dan's outbursts and semi airheaded personality. So it's safe to say, he's there the majority of the time.

Stan admires Danny alot and the events of 'Into the bunker' happens with Dan in place of Wendy. This does mean Stan had a passing crush on Danny during the episode, but even afterwards Stan kind of puts him on a pedestal. Ford enjoys Dan's company often being called 'little man' and playfighting on occasion. The twins act like his little hype men and he enjoys hanging with them.

As for Soos in this au, he initially built the mystery shack and is frequently seen around Levity Rises taking on odd jobs and making people as happy as they can be, though it's implied that he hasn't found his true calling yet.

LAZY SUZAN ⇆ WENDY

Lazy Suzan takes the role of Wendy in this au! Hazy Jane is a part time worker at the mystery shack, and is stan's first crush upon arrival to the Rises. She's a bit of an odd soul with a less than perfect memory, but is incredible at making a homely environment for the shack. Despite that, she can be extremely co-dependent in some situations, especially with her boyfriend. Otherwise she's earnest and does her best at her job. The events of 'Soos and the real girl' occur with Jane instead of Soos (and Rumble instead of GIFanny). Despite wanting to help, Stan is incredibly pouty throughout the episode.

Here's the design line up as well as initial notes I made when redoing them!

Hope this answered your question about Dan :]

RAUGH THANKS SO MUCH FOR ASKING THOUGHHHHHH

(EDIT)

SOMEONE SUGGESTED A BETTER SWAP FOR BILL, I JUST HAD TO ADD IT!

(EDIT EDIT)

I'm fixing wording and stuff so it's easier to read soz :p

[ere-the-sun-rises]

Batfam and the Lazarus Pit

This isn't my idea, and I honestly can't remember if @frownyalfred or @bruciemilf came up with this idea first, but it's been living in my head rent free and I need to get it out.

There are Lazarus Pits under Gotham, even contributing to why the city's so cursed. The Bats have each used a Lazarus Pit at least once (maybe not Spoiler and Signal, but I'm not sure). I'm fairly sure it's also canonical that the more you use it, the more prolonged the effects are and it kinda changes you incrementally but permanently.

Enter the Batfam, who train like crazy and are Olympian-level athletes all on their own, and using the Lazarus to help each other on death's door. (They don't tell each other when they do this, and they think it's never been done to them - except Jason, he can always tell - but they also don't share when they've done it to others.)

As time goes on, everyone gets older, stronger, more proficient at their jobs. Some take on younger teams, some proteges, some fly solo or stick around home. It's one of the OG Leaguers who points it out one day when they're having a civilian lunch - probably Ollie or Hal. In my head Bruce is one of, if not the youngest, OG Leaguers. So it's not crazy when Clark or Barry start to wrinkle around the eyes or get grey in their hair well before Bruce would. Bruce is also a public figure - he's got appearances to keep up.

But then ... Bruce is over 40 and his hair is still as black as it's ever been. His wrinkles are from his scowling and focus, only crinkling around the edges of his eyes and mouth a little bit. Idly, Hal wonders out loud if Bat's eyes have always been so dark, almost like coals. Barry notes that Bruce is way bigger than he used to be, that he bulges the suits he wears to galas with his size. Ollie, who's own beard is greying, bitterly points out that even Bruce's stubble is still black.

And suddenly, Bruce hits 50 and he's still thick-chested and dark-haired. The other Bats only seem to get more and more ... more. No non-meta can spar with them anymore unless they hold back and they seem to have endless stamina and pain tolerance. Clark and Diana think nothing of it, but the other fully human Leaguers start to wonder what's really going on. If maybe Bruce had lied to them. But J'onn swears that in their own minds, all of the Bats fully believe they're human. Aside from the suspicion, there's no reason to believe otherwise. They still bleed and scar, no matter how beautiful they seem to remain. No matter that Bruce keeps going and going and going even after others his age have been retired for years.

Fed up one day, Ollie asks him how he does it. Dermatologists? Botox? Just For Men? Bruce snorts and rolls his eyes. He smirks, "Good genes, I guess."

Bruce is nearly 70 when the grey creeps into his hair and his body starts to slow. His children are still active as ever, and when Tim takes up the Batman mantle, Bruce retires to train new heroes. One young hero complains that Bruce hits like one of the Amazons she trained with but he only responds that he's never stopped being the Bat even with tbe cowl off.

And then ... Leaguers start dying. Gradually, age takes them one by one and they's succeeded by the heroes they've mentored and the children who followed in their footsteps. Grey is starting to creep into Dick and Jason's hair, but they're still as vibrant and lively as ever.

It's only when it's just him left of humans of the original group that he actually considers why. If anyone should have died young, it should have been him. And yet, he's nearing 90 and not nearly as withered as some of them had been when they passed away. The vitality he's always attributed to his genetics and continued activity can't explain why all his children remain as beautiful and capable all their lives as he has. So one day, he gathers his wayward children down in the cave like they used to 50 years ago and asks them to be completely honest with him.

"Have any of you used the Lazarus Pit on anyone here without telling them or reporting it?"

The silence he's met with is deafening.

[sassydefendorflower]

I want to talk about something. I want to talk about ableism in fandom. And sexism in fandom. Oh, and racism in fandom.

Mostly though, I wanna talk about how the discussion about these things often gets derailed because people don't understand what trends and typical behaviors actually are.

Whenever a Person of Color, a woman, someone disabled, someone queer (or an intersection of any of these groups) points out that certain fandom trends are bigoted in some shape or form, half the replies seem to be "but they are my comfort character! Maybe people just like them better because they are more interesting!" or even "people are allowed to have headcanons!" - the very daft even go for a "don't bring politics into fandom" which is a personal favorite because nothing exists in a vacuum and nothing is truly apolitical. But alas~

What most of these replies seemingly fail to understand is something very, very simple: it's not about you.

You, as an individual, are just one datapoint in a fandom. You are not the trend. You do not necessarily depict the typical behavior.

When someone points out that there is racism in fandom, that doesn't mean every fan is racist or perpetuating racist ideas*. By constantly mentioning your own lack of racism, quite often, you are actively derailing the conversation away from the problems at hand.

When someone names and describes a trend, they don't mean your headcanon specifically - they mean the accumulated number of headcanons perpetuating a harmful or outdated idea.

I am not saying this to forbid anyone from writing fics about their favorite characters or to keep anyone from having fun headcanons and sharing their theories and thoughts - quite the opposite actually. A critique of a general trend is not a critique of you as an individual - and you're going to have a much better, and more productive, time online if you can internalize that. If you stop growing defensive and instead allow yourself to actually digest the message of what was pointed out.

I am saying this to encourage some critical thinking.

Allow me to offer up some examples:

Case 1: A DC blogger made the daring statement that maybe Tim and Jason were such a popular fanfic focus because they are the only two undeniably white batboys. Immediately someone replied saying "no, it's all the fun traumatic situations we can put them in!". Which is an insane statement to make, considering the same can be said for literally ANY OTHER DC Batman and Batfam character.

The original post wasn't anything groundbreaking, they didn't accuse anyone, didn't name any names... but immediately there was a justification, immediately there was a reason why people might like these characters more. No one stopped to take a second and reflect on the current trends in fanfiction, no one considered that maybe this wasn't a declaration against people who like these characters but a thesis depicting the OVERALL trend of fandom once again focusing on undeniably white (and male) characters.

(don't get me started on the racebending of white characters in media that has a big Cast of Color and the implications of that)

Case 2: A meta posted on Ao3 about ableism in the Criminal Minds fandom caught my attention. A wonderful piece, very thoughtful, analyzing certain characterization choices within the fandom through the lens of an actually autistic person. The conclusion they reached: the writing of Spencer Reid as an autistic character, while often charming and comforting, tended to be incredibly infantilizing and at worst downright ableist. They came to that conclusion while CLEARLY stating that the individual fanfic wasn't the problem, but the general fandom trend in depicting this character.

Once again, looking at the replies seemed to be a mistake: while many comments furthered the discussion, there were quite a few which completely missed the point. Some were downright hostile. Because how dare this author imply that THEY are ableist when they write their favorite character using that specific characterization.

It didn't matter that the author allowed room for personal interpretation. It didn't matter that they noted something concerning about the entire fandom - people still thought they were attacking singular people.

Case 3: I wrote a fic about abortion in the FMA(b) fandom (actually I've written a weird amount of fics about abortion in a lot of fandoms, but alas) and I got hate comments for it. Because of that I addressed the bias in fandom against pro-choice depictions of pregnancies. I pointed out that the utter lack of abortion in many omegaverse stories or even mpreg or het romances, painted the picture of an unconscious bias that hurt people for whom abortion was the only option, the best possible ending. The response on the post itself was mostly positive, but I got anon hate.

(which I can unfortunately not show you since I deleted it in the months since)

And I'm not overly broken up about it, but it also underlines my point: by pointing at a general problem, a typical behavior, a larger trend... people feel personally attacked.

This inability to discuss sexism, ableism, racism, transphobia, etc in fandom without people turning defensive and hurt... well, it damages our ability to have these conversations at all.

Earlier I said YOU are not the problem - well, i think part of this discussion is acknowledging that: sometimes YOU are in fact part of the problem. And that's not the end of the world. But you can only recognize yourself as a cog in the machine, if you can examine your own actions, your own biases, your own preferences critically and without becoming defensive.

And, again, this is not to keep you from finding comfort in your favorite characters and headcanons. This is also not to say that I am free of biases and internalized bigotries - I am also very much a part of the system. A part of the problem.

This is so you can comfortably ask yourself "but why is there no abortion in this universe?" or "why are my favorite black characters always the top in my slash ships?" or "why do I write this disabled character as childish and in need of help?" - and sometimes the answer is "because I am disabled and I want comfort", and that's fine too.

There is no one shoe fits all in fiction. There is not a single trope that captures all members of a group. There is no single stereotype that isn't also someone's comfort. No group is a monolith, no experienced all-encompasing (or entirely unique).

There is never a simple answer.

But that doesn't mean you should stop questioning your own biases, your own ideals.

Especially, if you grow defensive if someone points out that a certain trend you engage in might be racist. Or sexist. Or queerphobic. Or fucking ableist.

*this does not mean negate the general anti-blackness perpetuated by most cultures as a result of colonialism and slavery

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.42

Summary: While Wednesday is busy worrying about you, an unwelcome guests shows their face at the Addams Mansion. Wednesday is starting to wish you would lose your morals again.

Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: swearing, mentioned child abuse, racism against Outcasts, smut at the end (18+) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

The Addams Mansion was louder than usual with its new guests. Much to her surprise, Wednesday almost found it comforting. If you had asked her even just two years ago if she would have enjoyed the newfound sounds in the mansion, she would have thought the notion preposterous. Absurd even. Of course she wouldn’t have enjoyed the sounds, the mansion was her home. It was a sacred place that should be left untouched.

However, with your family around… at least they treated the old home as it deserved.

Even the youngest were respectful of the knick-knacks and artefacts around the mansion. They had only needed to be told once, and everything settled again. Sure, they would point out the ones they liked, but their hands stayed far away. Rooms that were off-limits to guests remained closed, and everyone was respectful of the… unusual habits of the Addams family.

The only one that remained unusual was you.

If Wednesday was being honest with herself, she was rather concerned about you. She hadn’t heard you say much after that night. By all accounts, you were more similar to Lurch in your communication; doing little more than grunting in acknowledgement of whatever was being said. You hadn’t even talked to Weems, who had shown up not even a day after the event to check on everyone. It was rather disturbing. And not in a good way.

At least there was an upside to the whole situation. Grandmama Addams had healed your arm with little more than a light scar over the skin. It was clearly a burn; that was impossible to erase. But there had been no need to go into a medical centre like the original EMT had mentioned. An Addams knew tricks no normie could comprehend.

There was nothing comfortable about talking about feelings, Wednesday knew all about that. She had trouble talking about her own, and you certainly felt the same. It didn’t take a genius to know that. But she wished you would talk with her. Share your thoughts, what you were feeling at the moment. Or at the very least what you were thinking for the past few weeks, seeing as you still had yet to tell her how you had known the house was going to catch fire.

“Would you pass the sugar, dear?” Mother asked you.

You grumbled and nodded once before pushing it over with your scarred hand. It was a stiff movement, and your brows moved ever so slightly at the effort. So, Wednesday thought, you weren’t entirely healed. You made no other indication of your discomfort and turned the page of your book.

“Daniel seemed quite interested in the atrium,” Mother continued. You hummed for her to continue. “He’s asked numerous times about specific plants.”

You still said nothing in return.

Mother looked at Wednesday over the lip of her teacup. If you wouldn’t even answer her small talk, how would they ever get you to speak? Even if you were having a small spat with Wednesday, you would always talk with Mother. Yet now, she was talking of your brother, and you wouldn’t even answer? It was borderline rude.

You were never rude to Mother.

“There you all are,” Weems said as she entered the reading room. “Everyone was a bit too quiet.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Mother said with a smile.

She did just that. Even you looked up from your book for just long enough to watch Weems sit down with her own cup of tea. It seemed everyone was indulging in caffeine. Everyone except for you, that was. You had opted for nothing more than a glass of water that sat untouched on the small side table.

Everyone resumed their activities; Mother and Weems were talking, and you were reading. Wednesday had her own book in her lap, but the words eluded her. How could she focus on a book when she was so concerned about you? How could you focus on your book? Were you not going absolutely mad?

She needed you to be okay. There was very little she could do to help, but she needed you to be okay. Perhaps you wouldn’t talk with her, but that wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? No, she could survive you not talking about your worries with her, as long as you allowed her to attempt to help.

A word of advice from Yoko appeared in her head. She looked over at you and watched you for a moment. There was very little emotion on your face, but she noticed you blinking a little longer than normal every time your burned hand turned the page.

She gave herself no time to doubt herself before reaching over and grabbing your good hand. It stiffened, but when she linked her fingers with yours, you quickly relaxed. Before she looked back down at her book, she noticed the slightest pull at the corner of your mouth.

Good. That was progress.

Wednesday was acutely aware of Mother and Weems’ hesitation before continuing their conversation. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach to know they were watching you both. Showing outward displays of affection was becoming less agonising, but there was something unsettling about knowing her mother and your mother figure were watching.

The prickling spiders were starting to crawl across her skin when something knocked on the front door. You didn’t look up, but Mother and Weems shared a look before Weems stood up from her chair.

“Shall I?” She asked even though she had already started walking toward the front door.

“Thank you,” Mother said with a small smile.

No one else paid any attention to what was happening. Everyone simply went back to what they were doing. What would it matter anyway? You were all aware that people only came to the Addams Mansion either based on a dare or had been invited.

“I don’t believe it’s wise for you to be here.”

Your attention was captured by Weems’ words. Wednesday would admit hers were too. There was a certain tone to the words, something that she didn’t think she had heard before. No, that wasn’t true, she had heard that warning tone before.

At Nevermore immediately after Nicky had died.

Wednesday’s mind was running rampant when you pulled your hand away from hers. There was almost no time for her to grab it again before you stood up. Mother sent a concerned look her way. It was a lucky thing Wednesday hadn’t had any tea, or she would have spilled it when she stood up.

Your body stiffened when you looked out the front door.

“I was hoping you would be here.”

That voice sent a shiver down every inch of Wednesday’s skin. By the slight shake in your hand, you felt the same. The closer she got, the more nervous she was. It was a complicated feeling for her. Very few things, and even fewer people, made her feel that way. She didn’t like it.

There was something comparable between your mother and hers. They both held themselves with confidence; something that you appeared to lack until you were in your mother’s presence again. However, there was a rather large difference between the two women.

Your mother always looked like she was out for blood.

“I was hoping to talk with you about something,” your mother said directly to you.

“I don’t believe that would-”

“-Alone,” she interrupted Weems with a venomous smile.

Very few people spoke to Weems in such a way, apparent by the way everyone stiffened at the harshness of the word. But that very reality was what seemed to get you out of whatever stupor you had drowned in. Behind you, your wings puffed up enough to make themselves known as you looked at Weems.

“I’ve got it,” you said in a soft yet confident voice. It was certainly a surprise to Wednesday, who had assumed you would sound weak after a large amount of silence.

Weems looked at you for another moment more. “Morticia and I will be in the study,” she finally said.

“As I said,” your mother said with the same sickening smile, “this is private.”

“Anything involving me involves Wednesday,” you said.

You and your mother stared at each other silently, and Wednesday felt like she was intruding on something. There was a history with you two that she knew very little about, but she knew enough. To stand there, watching your silent battle with nothing to say, was torture.

“Of course it does,” your mother finally said. She looked inside the mansion for a moment. “Won’t you be a dear and invite me in?”

“No.” You straightened back up and crossed your arms over your chest. “Say your piece and leave.”

Your mother opened her mouth to argue - she had stunning teeth, Wednesday noted - but quickly closed it once seeing the look on your face. Or rather, the lack of a look. Fear was the predominant look in your eyes when your parents were involved, but this? There was no reaction. You simply existed in her presence.

It was a wonderful look on you.

“Very well,” your mother finally said with a sigh. “I would like you to attend an event with me this weekend.”

“No,” you said quickly.

Your mother stood tall. “You will hear me out, Y/N.”

Fear flashed behind your eyes at the use of your full name.

“It’s a charity gala,” she continued. “For those with your…” she gestured vaguely between both you and Wednesday, “affliction.”

“We’re Outcasts,” you said, “not lepers.”

“Semantics, dear,” she said with a dismissive wave.

At that, you reached out and grabbed Wednesday’s hand. Hard. An ache spread through the bones of her hand as they were squeezed together unnaturally. The skin on your hand was tough, feeling closer to leather than skin. Truly a fascinating thing.

She squeezed your hand back to the best of her ability.

“After all the shit you’ve done, you want me to go with you to a gala?” You asked. “Just to make you look good?”

There was a red tint to your cheeks. Wednesday could hear all the words you weren’t saying. You killed my brother. You had me arrested. You abandoned me. Though she didn’t wish for a fight, she did wish for you to finally speak your mind. Let her know the hurt she had caused you all these years.

You didn’t continue.

“Your father is away, so you wouldn’t have to concern yourself with the restraining order,” your mother continued as if you were being nothing more than a petulant child.

“You’re not listening,” you said. “I’m not going.”

The tone underlying your words was all Wednesday needed to hear to know your next move. Your grip had loosened enough to ease the ache in her hand, but it stayed firm. Though she wouldn’t blame you, she knew you were done with the conversation. Nothing good could come from continuing to talk with your mother.

You turned around and started to pull Wednesday along with you.

“I heard about the fire,” your mother called after you.

You froze.

“Entire house burned to ash,” she continued. “A shame.” Your chest was heaving. “No longer having a home to call their own.”

The warmth of your hand in hers quickly disappeared as you turned on your heel. Wednesday’s feet stayed rooted to the spot even as she watched you walk up to your mother and stand over her. For the first time, she realised you were a decent amount taller than your mother. You could properly look down on her as she had no doubt you always wished you could.

In the background, the children could be heard playing in an unknown room.

“Don’t pretend you care,” you said quietly. Harshly.

“Oh darling,” your mother said with a smile that didn’t match her tone, “I couldn’t care less.”

“Then don’t talk about them.”

“I just assumed, perhaps wrongfully, that you would wish for them to have a home again,” she continued. The look in her eye was similar to yours. “A gift, if you will.”

You looked down at your mother silently. Oh, how Wednesday wished she could see the look on your face. She so very much adored when you were angry. There was a fire behind your eyes that lit something within her.

Then she started to think about the implications of your mother’s words. Would you allow her to offer such a thing? The reminder of your debt would follow you for the rest of your life. After all, you were still feeling indebted to her parents for the pendant you constantly wore around your neck. But with a home? She couldn’t even imagine the feelings it would invoke within you.

“Shall I continue?” Your mother asked.

You hesitated. Then gave a single, slow nod.

“If you accompany me to the gala, we will pay for the restoration of your little,” she hesitated, “family.” There was almost a sneer on her face, if Wednesday was reading her correctly.

“Are you blackmailing me?” You asked.

“Oh dear,” she laughed, “I’m not that dense.” Your jaw clenched. “It’s an incentive. A rather generous one.”

Your mother then stayed silent. A tactic, no doubt. It would give you time to consider her offer. Even Wednesday would admit it was a tempting offer. She and her parents had offered your family the same thing knowing they didn’t have the means to rebuild quickly on their own. It had been a quick rejection.

When it came to your mother, however…

“You’ll pay for the entirety of a new house,” you confirmed.

Your mother nodded in response. “Large enough for them all, in fact.”

“With the barn and stables.”

“Of course.”

“And nothing will ever need to be repaid?”

“It will be an act of charity.”

“And I can get that in writing?” You asked.

Oh. Oh, Wednesday could see the gears turning in your head. Once again, as she so often found herself doing, she thought back to those years she had believed you to be daft. Oblivious would perhaps have been the better word for it. Acting as if you were unaware of everything going on around you. On the rare occasion, even going so far as to act unaware of even the most basic aspects of life.

She used to believe you. After all, you were rather adept at playing off your intelligence. If she hadn’t been so tragically enamoured with you, life would have become far different than it currently was. She wouldn’t have had the pleasure of calling you hers. 

However, she knew better. She could see the ideas forming behind your eyes. No, they weren’t simply ideas, they were full-fledged plans. Wednesday desperately wished to have the ability to read your mind. What plan were you meticulously concocting?

“You may have it in writing,” your mother finally said. “I’ll draft it when I get home.”

“Oh no,” you said quickly, “I wouldn’t wish to trouble you.”

Finally, for the first time since your mother had appeared at the front door, you turned and looked at Wednesday. There was a fire in your eyes reminiscent of the burning house she had been forced to watch you run into. It was thrilling.

It was terrifying.

“Would you call Señor Moreno?” You asked with a smile that made you look just like your mother. “Mrs. Smith would like to draft an agreement.”

—---

Your discomfort was clear, but Wednesday rather enjoyed you in your current state. There had been few times she had seen you dressed well, fewer times since it had been a happy occasion. This was neither happy nor unhappy, so she took it as a positive. You looked rather stunning, aside from your wings resting uncomfortably underneath your clothes.

Not for the first time, her chest ached when you removed your hand from hers.

Listening to your mother fill you in on who was who was not on Wednesday’s to-do list. No, she didn’t truly care who these people were. What she truly cared about was the feel of your warmth beside her, enveloping her in something she had learned to crave. Something she could only receive from you.

“Come on,” you said softly, far closer than Wednesday had believed. It was unsettling.

She loved when you were unsettling.

With her arm looped through yours, she walked with you around the overly crowded room. A ballroom of sorts, she supposed, not too unlike the one in her own house. The difference was this one was bright and filled with straight-laced professionals. Her house was more often than not filled with criminals and unsightly characters for miles to come.

This was a far more concerning environment.

Every beat of Wednesday’s heart grew stronger the longer she watched you in what would have been your natural habitat. Try as you might to deny it, you were rather skilled at talking up those that could owe you favours. For example, the senator’s wife. Though Wednesday despised it, you had her laughing and getting closer the entire conversation.

You were lucky Wednesday had promised to behave.

She was lucky you had promised to behave.

The longer she stayed by your side throughout the evening, the more she realised there was a side to you she rarely if ever got to see. The part of you that could be serious and prepared for business. It was fascinating to watch your expressions and tone match whoever you were talking with. Almost like a mimic, if she had to put a word to it.

Sometimes, if your mother was around, she noticed the most subtle accent to your words. You sounded just like her.

She would never tell you.

“This is Wednesday Addams.”

Your voice pulled Wednesday back into the moment. There was a man in front of you both that she didn’t care to know. With his horrific toupee and pathetic mustache, she mentally placed him as a wannabe politician. His black tuxedo was slightly dishevelled around the collar, and his buttons were off by one. How peculiar.

“Addams, you say?” He asked with a voice that betrayed him more than the pipe hanging out of his mouth. “I believe I know of your father.”

“How so?” She asked even though she had no interest in hearing his answer.

“We met at a ball many years ago, if my recollection is correct,” he said. A puff of smoke left his mouth. “He’s doing well, I presume?”

“Quite,” she said shortly. Perhaps if she made it clear she wasn’t interested in small talk, he would leave her be.

No such luck.

“Perhaps he would appreciate an invitation to our next ball,” the man said. “He can get proper connections in place for when you take over.”

Your hand on the small of Wednesday’s back twitched. Nothing serious, a minuscule movement. It was enough. Out of the corner of your eye, she saw the slight frown on your face. Nothing overtly noticeable. Not that it would have mattered, the man you were both talking to couldn’t be bothered enough to notice the change.

“The Addamses are old money,” you chimed in, “there’s no need to take over.”

“Of course, of course,” he mumbled. A puff of smoke escaped from between his lips. “In that case, you must take that advice,” he said as he gestured toward you with his head. “You’ll need the good graces.”

Your hand twitched again.

“I’m not sure I understand,” you said with a slight tilt of your head.

“When you take over your father’s company,” he explained. Your nails dug into Wednesday’s back. “After dear Nicholas passed - rest his soul - you became the beneficiary of the company.” He chuckled. “Perhaps they were keeping it a surprise until you came of proper age.” A wink. “Don’t let them know I told you.”

You pulled your hand away from her back. Quickly. You could not have made it any more obvious that you were deliberately putting space between yourself and everyone else. If you could have turned and ran, Wednesday was convinced you would have.

She couldn’t begin to imagine the things running through your mind. Not only had he mentioned Nicky - which she had learned would always be a sore spot no matter how much time had passed - but he had also told you something you undoubtedly had never wished to know. You looked like you had grabbed an electric wire and hadn’t let go.

“Are you alright?” The man asked in a tone that indicated he couldn’t have cared less what your answer was. Wednesday could appreciate the indifference.

“Quite,” you said quickly. “Just thinking.”

“Ah, of course, I could tell,” he said with a nod, “I’ve seen that face before.” Another puff of his pipe. “You look just like your father.”

That.

That was the final straw.

Wednesday could practically hear your sanity break at that simple sentence. Any semblance of control you had maintained throughout the evening vanished. Before, you had acted like you had been shot by the words. You would close off, become solemn in the wake of the conversation. Being told those words almost hurt you more than losing your brother.

But not this time. No, now you were furious. If you clenched your jaw any tighter, Wednesday was convinced the bones would have shattered. Her eyes fell to your hands before you managed to shove them into your pockets. They were balled into fists.

She wondered if it pained your superficially healed burns.

“I believe I need a drink,” you choked out. “If you’ll excuse me.” You didn’t wait for an answer before walking off where Wednesday could no longer see you.

She was mortified.

How dare you leave her with people that, not only did she not know, but she didn’t care about? She had only agreed to accompany you because it would be a sleight against your mother. Not once had she agreed to be left alone with these people. Did you not know that she was not going to be good for your image? If anything, she would damage it more than it already was.

“I hope our dear Y/N is alright.”

She knew better. Wednesday really, truly knew better. But she couldn’t help herself. With a small exhale, she turned to face your mother. A polite smile was on her face and she looked rather nice, if Wednesday wished to say something positive about the woman. Not that she deserved it, but that wasn’t necessarily important.

You had her nose.

“Oh she’s splendid,” the man said, “just stewing on some thoughts. Right, Miss Addams?” He winked at Wednesday.

She felt the rare twinge of disgust in her stomach.

“I presumed,” your mother said. “Would you mind if I stole Miss Addams from you?”

“Not at all,” he said. He bowed his head, let out a puff of smoke, and turned around to start a conversation with whatever unlucky soul happened to be nearest him.

“Walk with me,” your mother commanded.

Silence was Wednesday’s best friend as she followed the older woman. She would admit, she had never believed she would find herself in this situation. Walking side by side with your mother - not the woman who raised you, but who brought you to life. It had seemed like a far-fetched dream, if not a full-blown nightmare.

She was ashamed to admit that she was… uncertain of how to act.

“You’re a rather brave young thing,” your mother said as she continued to meander through the party, waving to people when she saw fit. “Has our darling Y/N ever told you that?”

“I’m aware of my own strengths,” Wednesday answered. She reconsidered for a moment. “Yes she has.”

“Then we raised her properly.”

Wednesday opted to stay silent. It had only been a few moments of conversation, but she could fully understand why you felt a certain way about your parents. Was she aware of the ridiculous things she was saying? Did she truly believe that they had raised you? A foolish notion at best.

It was beyond clear that your true family had raised you. If she extended the definition of the word, Weems had even raised you more than the woman she was walking beside. You even called Weems a mother, which was evidence enough. Wednesday wasn’t one to get overly emotional, but she knew the difference between what your family had done to raise you and what your mother had done. The difference was glaringly obvious.

While you hadn’t told Wednesday much about your upbringing, she knew enough. Your mother had never been there when you cried. She hadn’t helped you with your homework, or encouraged your hobbies. It would be of no surprise to anyone if she didn’t know of your passion for climbing or boxing. She had left you to cope alone after not only a crippling car accident, but the figurative and, eventually literal, loss of your brother.

No, they hadn’t raised you, and even someone as emotionally stunted as Wednesday was painfully aware of it.

“I’m sure she’s told you rather horrid things about Marcus and myself,” your mother said, coaxing Wednesday out of her thoughts. “But everything we did was for her own good.”

Wednesday understood the anger you harboured for them. She herself was feeling that same anger well up within her chest. Not quite threatening to burst forward, but making itself known. Subtle, creeping into her veins slowly, like waves gently breaking on the shore. All it would take was one wrong move and those waves would turn violent.

“I believe you truly think so,” was all she said.

“Everyone she loves gets hurt,” your mother said. She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly to face Wednesday. “Or dies.”

“That’s improbable at best,” she said.

“You’d be wise to leave before you fall victim to that curse of hers.”

Something cold and damp settled into the bottom of Wednesday’s heart. It was… difficult to describe. Was your mother warning her, or threatening? She was unsure. The words themself were threatening, but her tone… she hadn’t prepared to hear that tone from such a woman. Not after what she had come to know about her.

“Not everything you hear can be taken as truth, love,” your mother said softly, far too soft for her own words. She was ignoring Wednesday’s silence. Or simply not caring.  “From what I’ve read about you, you know that painfully well.”

Wednesday turned to silence once again. She had nothing to say, which was a rather unusual experience. So far, she couldn’t properly think of a time she had been left without words. Or, quite frankly, even any thoughts. Skepticism was her friend, and your mother would not break her of such habits.

“There’s two sides to every story,” your mother continued. She looked out toward the crowd of people, and Wednesday followed suit. “This curse prevailed long before Nicholas.”

You had never told Wednesday of any incidents before Nicky. Though, if your mother knew about it, then perhaps you didn’t remember. Or you weren’t even aware in the first place. It indicated something that she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about.

Something that mixed together with everything she had seen as of late.

“We should get together one evening,” your mother said as she looked back at Wednesday. “Doubtless you have questions.”

She did. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she had numerous questions that continued to pile up with each second that ticked by. With how much your mother hated Outcasts, was her implication of a curse figurative or literal? If literal, were you truly cursed? Who had done it? At the very least, who had been injured or killed when you were too young to even remember?

Would you hate her if she agreed? There had been a few times you had mentioned, in passing of course, about regretting knowing little about your childhood. Whether from young age or potential trauma, you remembered less than you liked. If she had a chance to find those things out for you, would you be appreciative? Or would you be upset with her for talking with your mother so casually?

Would you hate her?

Her mind was running through every scenario possible. She wanted to tell your mother something; of what, she wasn’t quite sure. Wednesday’s lips parted in an effort to buy herself some more time when someone’s arm brushed against her shoulder. Just the lightest of touches, otherwise unnoticeable. It had been quite a while since she had last felt that electric shock spiderwebbing across her skin.

This was different.

Fire raced through her veins, creating an inferno in her chest that she desperately wished to smother. She could taste the smoke rising up from her lungs, scorching the back of her throat before settling into little more than a tickle. When her eyes opened, she saw vague shapes of the forest.

She was getting rather tired of the forest.

The birds were silent, and even the bugs had ceased to make their high-pitched calls. It was as silent as the grave. After witnessing the fire, this very setting rested heavy in her stomach. The only saving grace was the two familiar figures she saw standing underneath one of the outlines of a tree.

When they turned to face her, all comfort fled. Their faces were nothing less than mangled. Blood fell freely down their chins to the already-soaked dirt below their feet. Wednesday wanted to cry, to scream, to warn them of the creature looming behind them, but she couldn’t. She was silent.

Just like you on that fated night.

She blinked once. When her eyes opened again, the forest was gone, instead replaced by a house that she could recognise even from her single visit. Wednesday had never been downstairs in your parents house, instead only exploring a few rooms upstairs when she came with you, but she recognised the tile. The entire building smelled like you, in some odd way.

The dining table was huge, accentuated by the measly five plates that sat around the perimeter of the stunning wood. Only five. Two seats were empty, and two more were filled with sights that Wednesday didn’t think she could have imagined even in her most demented nightmares. In the fifth seat, Wednesday saw the near-perfect reflection of herself.

She had never imagined what her corpse would look like.

“I said don’t touch her.”

Your voice. That was your voice, which meant she was out of her vision. Her throat ached like she had been screaming for years. There was a dull throbbing ache in her stomach where one of the wounds on her corpse had been. But your arms were around her, holding her close.

The ache would subside.

“It might be wise to seek medical attention,” your mother said.

“This happened while she was with you,” you practically spat. Wednesday still hadn’t opened her eyes, but she could imagine the fury on your face. “I can be forgiven for not taking your advice.”

“I’d advise you not to make a scene, dear.”

Your mother’s tone left Wednesday feeling cold. Her own mother had never talked to her in such a way, even out of fear. It wasn’t a way a parent should ever talk to their child. Yet, your mother did it shamelessly in front of an entire crowd of people that had no doubt found their way around the three of you.

Her eyes opened quickly. Far too quickly, the lights from the room hammered nails into her brain. But all the pain and discomfort faded away when she met your soft eyes looking down at her in concern. You were rather beautiful, and just the thought brought a smile to her lips.

A smile?

Perhaps she had hit her head on the way down.

“Can you stand?” You asked softly.

Wednesday nodded once.

You kept your hands on her as you helped her to her feet. The floor felt a bit uneven at first, but with your arm wrapped securely around her waist, she felt no concern. Her trust in you was unwavering. You wouldn’t let her fall.

“You should take her somewhere quiet,” your mother said, against everyone’s better judgement. “It will help.”

You shot her a look, but otherwise stayed silent as you guided Wednesday through the crowd. Everyone parted, looking away in some form of almost-shame. They didn’t truly care. Elites cared for little outside of their own interests. And at that moment, getting the gossip firsthand was in their best interest.

There was no telling where exactly you were taking her. She didn’t care to know. If you were taking her somewhere, it would be safe. You had never intentionally led her into harm, and she knew you never would. You cared too much, and though it often got you in trouble, she loved it about you.

…

She had definitely hit her head.

When you opened the door and led her inside the darkened room, she didn’t initially check her surroundings. Wednesday was no fool, she would know if something was unsafe. But when you flipped the switch and illuminated the space, she was overcome with… confusion.

“The coat closet?” She asked, turning quickly to face you.

You were already pacing back and forth in the small - well, small for a room, rather large for a coat closet - space. Each step was harsh, purposeful. Behind you, your hands were clasped terribly tight, as if you were trying to prevent yourself from doing something foolish.

Perhaps you were.

“Did she hurt you?” You asked without looking.

“No,” Wednesday said softly.

You scoffed. “Probably the only thing she didn’t do.” The carpet was becoming worn into a path from your feet. “We never should’ve come to this stupid party.”

There were a few things Wednesday could have said, but she remained silent. It wasn’t often you would find yourself pacing, let alone in a closet. On those rare occasions, she had learned it best to stay quiet. Once you had gotten your thoughts and emotions out, you were lighter and could move on.

“I can’t do this,” you continued without prompting. “I don’t want to do this.” A turn on your heels. “I didn’t even want their name, let alone their fucking company.” The muscles in your arms tensed. “And apparently everyone is preparing for it. What happens when they find out I’m a fucking Outcast?” You readjusted your jaw. “He told me we shouldn’t have come.”

Wednesday perked up.

“Who told you?”

There was no sudden freeze of your movements, as was usual. No, your pace slowed until coming to a graceful stop. Each breath you took was calculated, steady. Strange. She had seen enough of your panics to know this was different. Wrong somehow.

“No one,” you said without looking at her. “Just… just a thought.” You turned slowly. “The voice in my head.”

“Your conscience?” She clarified.

You didn’t answer.

Wednesday didn’t like when you didn’t answer her. It left a gross feeling she couldn’t quite describe. The best description she could conjure was mud sitting at the bottom of her stomach, weighing her down. She didn’t like the feeling. It made her… well, almost sad.

It was possible you noticed her discomfort because, almost instantly, you walked over to where she was standing. Her entire body relaxed - for the first time that night - when your hands cupped her cheeks. There was something pleasant about your touch that never failed to ease any negative feelings trapped within her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked in a far softer voice. It was gentle and comforting.

She placed her hands on top of yours and nodded once.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you continued. “We should’ve just had a nice night at home.”

Wednesday didn’t disagree. There were many more things she would have preferred to do than come to some gala that no one seemed to care about. You had come under the premise of a gala for Outcasts, but she felt it was a farce. None of those people cared about Outcasts, and they never would. It would have been a much better use of both of your time to do something else, something far more enjoyable.

An idea formed in her mind and she quickly looked up to meet your eyes.

“We can still have a nice night,” she said slowly.

“Wednesday,” you said with a tilt of your head. “You fainted and I’m plotting the death of my mother. You’d have to come up with something pretty… uh…”

Your voice trailed off once she guided your hands down her neck. There was almost a humorous joy to the way you went slack jawed at any indication of activities less than professional. And when she continued, fighting a shiver as your fingers brushed the side of her clothed breasts, you stared with wide eyes until your hands rested on her waist.

“Wednesday,” you whispered. Her name always slid off your tongue with a certain grace that she couldn’t find anywhere else.

“You need a distraction,” she said, “as do I.”

“Please don’t feel like you have to-”

“-I would like to,” she said quickly. 

She knew where your mind was going and, in any other situation, she would have agreed. You had both agreed long ago that this wasn’t something frivolous; it meant far too much to the both of you. It shouldn’t be used for inappropriate reasons and, under normal circumstances, this would be an inappropriate reason.

Even though it was surprising to her as well, she genuinely wanted this.

“We’re in a coat closet,” you said with a slight squeeze of your hands. It felt nice.

“I don’t believe it would be our most unusual interaction,” she said with the slightest tilt of her head.

You bit back a laugh. It was a beautiful sound. “Please don’t call it an interaction, it sounds… dirty.”

She felt herself moving backwards. Whether you were guiding her or she was leading, she couldn’t tell. All she could focus on was your fingers rubbing light circles on her hips and your face getting closer to hers. If she simply leaned up on her toes, she could kiss you.

“I can call it intercourse instead,” she offered.

The both of you stopped when her back pressed against the wall.

“I think that’s worse,” you said, your breath fanning across her lips.

She waited for the question.

“Can I kiss you?”

A rhetorical question at that point, you knew the answer. You had always known the answer. Wednesday reached forward to wrap her arms around your neck and pulled you down into a kiss. It was soft and clumsy. After all this time, you were still clumsy for the first few kisses. Before you, she would have found it ridiculous.

Now, she enjoyed it.

Outside the door, the sounds of footsteps on the tile came and went. It didn’t stop either one of you, quite the contrary, it made the situation all the more thrilling. Wednesday knew the joy you would find in it; she could practically hear your words. Two Outcasts fucking around their personal belongings? Sexy.

Her breath hitched lightly when you slipped your hands underneath her dress. It wasn’t salacious; it was rather decent, if she was being honest. You didn’t hike her dress up over her hips and take her right then and there. Rather, you kept her covered, the only indication of something going on being your hands underneath the fabric.

“I’m sorry, mi vida,” you said softly against her skin as you pressed kisses across her jaw. “This will have to be quick unless you want to get caught.”

Wednesday was never a fan of what you and Enid - and clearly the rest of the world - called “quickies.” She was so selective of when and where she was willing to have sex that the thought had never appealed to her. Why dedicate such a short amount of time to something that required much longer? How was it enjoyable? Or even tolerable?

But, as she had noted throughout the night, she wasn’t particularly picky at that moment.

She nodded quickly. More footsteps could be heard outside the door. You were correct; she didn’t wish to be caught. The thrill was arousing, yes, but if it actually happened? There was no doubt in her mind that, though she wouldn’t care about their opinions, she would be mortified.

Your teeth pressed lightly against the pulse point of her neck as you smiled. If Wednesday stretched her neck just a little further, perhaps she could entice you to bite. There was something delectable about the feel of your teeth on her skin. As if you could read her mind, you lightly nipped at her collarbone.

It was a good thing you hadn’t completely enraptured her, or she would have made a surprised noise when you hoisted her up from the ground. Your hands held her by the back of her thighs until you pressed closer, leaving her trapped securely between your body and the wall.

Oh, she rather liked that.

Your unscarred hand moved, sliding softly against her inner thigh before brushing against her underwear. Her body shivered at the slightest of touches. It was humiliating. What was more humiliating was the smile on your face that she desperately wished would vanish.

“You’re already wet,” you noted.

She could kill you.

“The stoic Wednesday Addams is wet,” you said. Your fingers slipped underneath the flimsy fabric and she had to bite her tongue. “From a little makeout session in a coat closet.”

Out of all the times you could be condescending, you had chosen the worst moment. You chose the moment she was already going out of her comfort zone, but also, quite frankly, desperate. She finally understood the pleasure in quickies; it gave less time for words.

Wednesday would have told you to shut up right then and there. She would have stopped you simply out of spite. But her chance was ruined when you slipped two fingers into her with ease. Her head fell back against the wall as those fingers moved at a dangerously quick pace.

She wouldn’t have to wait long to finish. It was truly disgraceful how worked up she was. Had you known? Because she hadn’t. Wednesday had never anticipated ever being so close to a release with such little time. Perhaps it was you. You and your deceptively soft kisses on her neck. You and your nimble fingers that had learned long ago exactly what she loved. You and your damned thumb that never left her clit until she was so sensitive she could almost cry.

That warm feeling in her core didn’t build softly. It formed quickly with each swipe of your thumb, each thrust of your fingers that had her biting her tongue so hard she could taste blood. She managed to lift her head right when you pulled your own mouth away. Perfect.

Her lips pressed against yours before that feeling erupted inside her. It was different from all the other times. It was more intense, hitting her rather quickly instead of slowly cascading over the edge. Her nails dug into the back of your neck, but you didn’t seem to care. You simply held her closer, keeping your fingers moving in rhythm with her body until she could relax in your arms.

Footsteps came closer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against your lips, “I know it was fast, we can take our time at home.”

Wednesday didn’t have an answer just yet. She was still out of breath, trying to recover from the wave of bliss that had left her unable to properly function. But she could give you some form of answer; a soft kiss, nothing like what you had just done to her.

She felt you smile against her lips.

“Here,” you said softly as you lowered her back to the ground on shaky legs. “I’ll grab our coats, you take a moment.”

The moment you were gone, she felt cold. It wasn’t something she had ever admitted out loud, but she despised when you left her even if momentarily. She was fond of the warmth you gave her, both internally and externally. There was something special about it that evaded her verbiage. All she knew was she enjoyed it.

When she opened her eyes, she froze.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a husky voice.

You thumbed through the cash in the wallet. “I’m stealing.” You grabbed the wad of cash and placed the empty wallet back into the coat before moving on to the next one. “If I’m going to run a company one day, I should start getting used to it.”

Wednesday walked up to you slowly and waited for you to finish with what was currently in your hands. Once you paused, she pulled you down into a kiss. Slow, soft, good. You pulled back ever so slightly with a small smile on your face, and she just looked at you.

“I love you,” she said softly.

You leaned down to kiss her again.

“I love you too.”

[talewrites]

Fragile Part 7

Sorry for the wait! It was hard to focus while writing this chapter, so I might be editing it for mistakes here and there. I hope you like it! :] <3

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, broken limbs, violence, drowning, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You were laying dazed on the cold metal floor. In too much pain to focus on anything else besides breathing. You heard a commotion, voices muffled through the thick glass. At least inside this tube they couldn’t touch you anymore. Your mind strayed to the turtles. You weren’t able to save them. You weren’t able to do anything. You just hope they can somehow get away safely. That April and Casey can somehow save them.

“I won’t ask again…. Where’s (y/n).” Leo growled. He grit his teeth as he lowered his stance, ready to strike.

Baxter Stockman was quickly typing commands into the program on his computer. Karai stepped in front of him and drew her katana.

“Out of your reach, Turtles.” 

“Aaaaand, there!” Stockman hit one last key on this computer and a red light started to flash on the tank, bringing the turtle’s attention to the crumpled form inside the glass. At the same time a multitude of files and programs started closing on the screen one after another, Stockman’s signature digital self-destruct program. Baxter stepped away from his computer and lifted his arms up triumphantly.

The sound of rattling pipes overhead catches your attention. 

“Ha! You’re too late, Turtles. For years, the Foot Clan has sought out the means to fight you mutants on equal footing. And now, we have our secret weapon! An endless supply of pure mutagen!!!” 

You heard a loud beeping sound, then a click, and the squeak of metal.

A gush of icy water pours down on you from above. The sudden cold shocks you and marginally distracts you from the pain. You pull yourself to the edge of the glass away from the heavy stream of water coming down from above, slowly starting to fill the base. You take a shaky deep breath and bang a fist on the glass. No use. Dizzy and numb, you look outside the tank for someone, something, anything that might help you. That’s when you see them.

And with dawning horror, they see you.

“Guys….?” You press your wet hand up against the glass. They’re here! They’re safe!!!

“(Y/n)....? (Y/N)!!!!” Leo shouts and lunges towards the tank. He tries to rush up to the glass but Rocksteady blocks his path. There’s blood on your cheek, and even a good distance away he can tell you’re in bad shape. 

“OUT OF OUR WAY!” Raph roared at Bebop and Rocksteady, crossing his sai in preparation for a fight.

“Uuuh hey guys? Why is (y/n) in a giant fish bowl…?” Mikey asked, nunchucks at the ready.

“They ain’t comin’ out anytime soon, short stack.” Bebop said with an evil grin. 

“You turtles totally fell for our trap!” Rocksteady chuckled.

Donnie immediately noticed the computer hooked up to the tank’s controls. He tried to subtly sneak past Bebop to get to Stockman but Karai stepped forward and blocked his path.

Karai pointed her sword at Donnie. “The Foot will be unstoppable.”

“And I will FINALLY get the recognition I deserve, for single-handedly creating an entire race of superhumans that will rule over the city!!!” 

“You’re crazy!! You don’t even know what kind of side effects that mutation will have on regular humans!” Donnie activated the electricity at the end of his bo staff, ready to fight Karai to get to Stockman. 

“I do have to thank you turtles for activating their mutant gene. Without your help, none of this would be possible!” Stockman’s laugh echoed through the large room. He waltz over to the canister filling up with the distilled mutagen from your blood. “We originally got (y/n) by a…. foreseeable mistake. But to our surprise, they survived where others had failed. And yet- their results were incomplete. Their animal DNA wasn’t materializing no matter what we did to them. So we came back to New York, where the population could supply us with countless more test subjects.” Baxter said cheerfully, popping the lid off the canister. “But now that we have the results we wanted, we have no need of them! We can preserve (y/n)’s body in a special chemical compound that will put them into a permanent hibernation. No need to worry, their body will be harnessed for science!” Stockman’s laugh was deep and evil, and to everyone’s shock-

He dumped the canister of mutagen over his own head.

Karai lept back out of the trajectory of the splash. Baxter’s laugh increased in volume as he began to morph and change. His head and eyes grew large, his body shrank, little papery wings sprouted from his back, and he mutated into a giant mutant fly. 

Bebop and Rocksteady were stunned by the transformation. “Eeeeewwww… he turned into a bug?” Bebop whined.

“Nasty!” Rocksteady shook his head. Neither of them were paying attention to the turtles so Raph and Donnie covered for Leo and Mikey to make a break for the tank you were in. By now it had filled enough that you were starting to float.

“We’re here babe! We’re gonna get you out!” Mikey reassured you. 

You whimpered helplessly. You were having a hard time keeping your head above water, not really able to swim with a broken dislocated arm and broken ankle. 

“Stay back!” Leo sliced at the glass, and Mikey hit it with his nunchucks as hard as he could, but their attacks barely left a scratch!

“Guys! We have incoming!” Donnie yelled as Stockman had started flying around the room, maniacally laughing as he swooped down and kicked the back of Mikey’s shell, almost knocking him over. 

“Dude, gross!” Mikey protested. Stockman looked to be drooling some kind of acid substance from his mouth.

Bebop and Rocksteady had recovered and started to charge towards them. Leo and Mikey had to jump away from your tank to avoid getting trampled. 

“Donnie, that glass is as hard as steel!!” Leo jumped up and kicked Rocksteady across his cheek, then retreated.

“What’re we gonna do? (Y/n)’s tank is already half full!” Raph shouted. He was using his sai to hold back Bebop’s tusks as he tried to charge them. 

You were doing your best to calm your breathing enough that you could float, but every time your head ducked below water you panicked. Your body was exhausted and protested against your desperate movements, but you needed to survive long enough for the boys to break you out.

“Donnie! See if you can turn off the water!!! I’ve got Karai.” Leo ordered

“Mikey! It’s you and me!” Raph called over, clanging his sai together and shouted a war cry running up to strike Rocksteady. 

“What?! What about the bug brained dude??!! Eep!” Mikey ducked as Stockman flew over his head. He looked down and realized he was kneeling at the feet of Bebop, who had taken the black taser out of his pocket.

“You wanna taste too, little man?” 

When Bebop flicked on the taser, Mikey saw the small stains of fresh blood on the pointed tips that buzzed with electricity. He looked back over to you struggling in the tank and how heavily injured you looked.

He saw red.

Mikey had a rare moment of true anger as he jumped to his feet and knocked the taser out of Bebop’s hand with his nunchucks, and in a flurry of rapid hits he beat back the warthog. He finished him off with a powerful roundhouse kick to the head.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR MESSING WITH MY BAE!” He shouted triumphantly.

Raph looked back to Mikey with wide eyes, proud of his little bro for letting loose. “Woah. Way to go Mikey!” He ducked a hit from Rocksteady and punched him hard under his chin. Knocking him out cold. 

Leo was crossing swords with Karai. She was a skilled fighter. But he was much stronger than her. While he pushed her back with a heavy strike, she slipped on some of the mutagen that had spilled on the floor, allowing Leo to take advantage of the opening and disarmed her. He flicked her sword out of her hand and knocked her back. She glared daggers at him, quickly recovering. But seeing as Bebop and Rocksteady were knocked out, she opted for a tactical retreat.

“This is just the beginning.” She hissed and ran out of the lab door. 

Stockman was buzzing around your tank, still laughing maniacally. 

“You turtlezzzzz cannot defeat the mighty Dr Stockman!! I am invincible!! I am-“

Donnie turned on the taser at the end of his bo staff and vaulted it at the annoying human insect, striking him and electrocuting him, knocking him out of the air to fall on the floor with a gross splat.

“Good thing I always carry a bug zapper.” He deadpanned.

Donnie went back to trying to hack into Stockmans computer. He managed to get past the firewall with his hacking program, but he discovered that all of the interfaces connected to the tank control had been erased. 

There was no way to stop the tank from filling up completely. Donnie would have to write a whole new interface from scratch to control the tank.

There was no time.

You were running out of air, trying desperately to keep your head above water as the tank was almost full to the top. You took in one last deep breath just as the water consumed the last of the space. You held your good hand over your mouth and nose hard, trying to hold in the air, and floated down towards the bottom of the tank. 

No more air.

“(Y/N)!!!” 

“ANGEL CAKES!!!” Donnie and Mikey yelled out in panic.

Your eyes snapped open, hearing their muffled voices outside the tank. You swam over to the glass and met eyes with Raphael. He had picked a spot and began punching at the glass over and over again with his sai in his fists.

The needled jabs just managed to scratch the surface. 

You looked at him sadly through the glass. He was stressed, sweating and desperate to break through. Mikey had grabbed a chair and had chucked it at the glass from another spot but it just bounced off and broke on the floor.

Leo was standing behind Donnie with his hand on his shoulder, but his eyes didn’t leave your face. 

Time was running out. You were choking on the stale air in your lungs. Head getting dizzy from lack of oxygen. You removed your hand from your mouth and pressed it up to the glass, some bubbles of air escaping your mouth. Your eyebrows knit together to concentrate on not breathing in the fluid in the tank. But you were suffocating and in pain. 

It was hard.

You looked back up at Raph, and forced a smile on your face. You felt sad. You didn’t want them to see you like this. They felt so far away. 

Darkness was consuming your vision. The last remaining bubbles of air escaped from your mouth and your eyes slipped closed. 

“NO!!! NO-! (Y/N), STAY WITH US.” Raph pounded his fist hard against the glass. 

“DAMN IT.” Donnie frustratingly slammed his fist down next to the keyboard, his head falling into his hands. None of the lines of command coding he was typing in were working.

Leo left Donnie’s side and strode up to the tank.

“Move.” Leo ordered as he came up behind Raph. He unsheathed his swords and began slicing at the glass again. It was barely making a scratch. But combined with the small dents Raph had been making, he was slowly chipping away at the surface.

“Leo! If you can manage to cut 1.2 centimeters deep, it should weaken the glass enough to shatter with enough force!” Donnie yelled from where he was still furiously typing into the stationed keyboard. His attempts to unlock the system all in vain. 

Leo and Raph worked together to stab and slice at the weakest point in the glass until finally-

*crack*

A small fracture appeared in the glass. 

“There!!” Donnie called out. Raph and Leo switched to charging at the door and ramming it full force with their shoulders. Over and over as the cracks grew wider and wider.

Mikey came over, and with a hand on Leo’s shoulder, the leader stepped aside to let his little brother help. Mikey joined Raph and rammed the glass again with such force the crack split all the way across the glass. One more strike-

The glass shattered on impact.

The gush of water that burst through swept Mikey and Raph off their feet. The floor of the lab flooded, and your body washed up on the floor. Lifeless and unmoving.

“(Y/N)!!!!!!” The boys all yelled. 

Leo reached you first, falling into a kneel at your side. He ripped out the two needles from your back and held you in his arms. Donnie rushed over and slid down into the other spot at your side, his goggles pulled into place as he quickly checked you over.

“They’re not breathing. Put them down flat, now.” Leo obeyed and laid you on your back. Donnie first pressed down on your diaphragm to check for water blocking your lungs, then began compressions. 

The room was dead quiet all except for the sounds of Donnie’s whispered counting as he pressed down on your chest. He paused, opened your mouth, pinched your nose, and breathed into your lungs. 

Mikey was nervously walking around you back and forth, and Raph watched you from a distance, a vacant expression as he watched your face for any sign of movement, pleading with himself for you to be okay. 

After what felt like an eternity, you coughed. Leo quickly rolled you lay on your side. You spit up water, gasping for air. You felt like you were coughing up a lung full of ethanol. 

Mikey cheered and Raph took a deep breath, covering his face with his hands. Donnie fell backwards onto his butt and pulled his goggles off his head, so incredibly relieved you were breathing. Leo rubbed your back comfortingly as you got your breathing back under control.

Once you got a suitable amount of oxygen back in your lungs, you whimpered. Your throat was burning and a pain in your stomach and chest made it hard to breathe.

Leo picked you up again, and held you close to his chest. Your eyes fluttered open and you winced at the bright light from the ceiling.

“Welcome back.” Leo said with a smile on his face.

“Leo…?” Your voice was quiet and scratchy. You looked around at Donnie, Mikey, and Raph that all came into view around you and Leo.

“Guys….?” You felt barely conscious. Head foggy and tired like you were under water.

“We’re right here.” Donnie assured you, reaching down to pick up your good hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

All the fear and emotion of drowning and being captured suddenly crashed down on you all at once. You sniffed and big tears gathered in your eyes.

“I was… so scared… I thought I was going to lose you….!” You hiccuped and sobbed as Leo held your trembling form tightly against his chest.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m here. We got you.” Leo soothed, rubbing his hand down your back. He buried his nose into your damp hair and held you tight.

“You had us worried there for a minute!” Donnie was smiling at you, soft and relieved. Mikey was standing behind him rubbing tears out of his eyes.

“Let’s get you home.” Raph said, kneeling down behind you. 

“Wait. I need to splint their arm and their ankle first. Mikey, can you find me some-“

*crack*

“Will this work?” 

Mikey had already broken off the thin legs of a chair across the room. 

“Yeah that works fine.” He pulled out two rolls of gauze from one of the pockets on his belt, and took the offered sticks from Mikey, who knelt down by your feet. 

“What’re we gonna do about him?” He asked, motioning over to Stockman’s twitching form across the room.

The brothers all sneered at the fly mutant with similar levels of disgust on their faces, finding him rather gross. You smiled.

“Just leave him there, we can worry about him another time.” Leo offered, adjusting you in his grip. You winced terribly when your arm was moved. 

“….Is ...your arm dislocated?” Leo asked you, holding you upright in a sitting position, now thoroughly checking you over. 

Donnie and Mikey were working together to splint your ankle, Mikey holding up your foot while Donnie wrapped the splint to it.

“Let me see that.” Raph placed his hands on your shoulder and you clenched your teeth and whined quietly at the sharp pain.

“Leo, hold them still for a minute.” 

“Just hold onto me tightly, it’ll be over in a second.” Leo hugged you close, wrapping an arm around your good side.

Raph got hold of your tender arm, and with practiced ease, popped your shoulder back into place. You cried out loudly and buried your face in Leo’s shoulder, taking deep breaths. 

Raph tried to rub the soreness out of your poor shoulder. “Good job, princess. Now let Donnie get a look at that break.”

You hesitantly detached yourself from Leo, your shaking red and swollen arm was carefully picked up by Donnie, who set the splint and carefully wrapped the bandages.

“I’ll be able to get a better look at it with the x-ray machine back at home. For now we just have to be really careful not to jostle them too much when carrying them back.”

“I got em.” Raph volunteered. Leo looked to Raph, wordlessly nodding his head for his brother to take you from his arms.

“Careful of their arm….”

“Got it.” 

Without much effort, Raph scooped you up in his big arms. You winced as a sharp stabbing pain radiated through your stomach as you were held close to Raph’s chest.

Something was definitely wrong.

“I’m sorry, princess. It’s just until we get you home.” Raph apologized. Leo led everyone quickly out of the lab. 

Once back out in the hallway you had entered from, you noticed with visible shock the literal sea of bodies that covered the floor. Foot ninja. They fought through all of them, just to get to you.

Everyone exited the lab, careful to stick to the shadows as the sun began to rise. As the turtles made their way for their home, your stomach burned worse and worse with a white hot pain that radiated through your body. The movement of the city passing you by made you become dizzy, and your head felt like it was spinning. You felt nauseous and incredibly tired. 

“Hey Raph….?”

“Yeah princess?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you guys…. You had to save me instead….” You weren’t making any sense. Raph could barely hear you as the wind whipped past his head. You just felt so tired.

“Hey, stay with me, princess. We’re almost there. It’s okay.” Raph didn’t know what the right thing to say was. But your eyes were starting to slide closed.

“Can we…. Can we watch Princess Bride again…. When we get home….?”

Raph smiled at that.

“Yeah. We’ll watch it as many times as you want, short stack.” He didn’t care if his brothers teased him for secretly liking your girly movie. He didn’t care if he had to watch it with you a hundred times. He just wanted you to get better.

“We’re almost there. How you holding up?” 

Silence. 

“(Y/n)…?”

“Mmh?” 

Your eyes were closed.

“Come on, wake up, we’re almost there.”

He was desperate. 

“Mm…hm…” 

You hummed, but your eyelids felt too heavy to lift. You felt yourself sinking into a dark liquid abyss. You could no longer fight the pull.

“(Y/n)….. (y/n)? Hey…! Hey, no no no no no, you gotta stay awake. Come on princess…! (Y/N)!!!”

You felt Raph try to shake you awake, felt his muscles tense as he pushed himself to go faster. 

“We’re almost there, hold on…!”

“Hold on….”

Darkness overtook you.

Part 8

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x @leonardo-dabitchy @sh1ga-to3s

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

[artbyblastweave]

Finished up Batman Beyond today. As much as I liked it, one thing that did jump out at me over the course of the show was that Dana Tan was basically an unreconstructed instance of "The Superhero's Girlfriend-" a love interest who's present in the narrative mainly to create tension between the demands of the superhero lifestyle and the loved one who's in the dark, but who has very little agency or role in the story beyond that, indeed, very little else you can have them do if you want to preserve that. The episode in which I believe she got the most focus, she spent most of it running for her life from a Rat Guy through the sewers.

There's a post about Spider-Man doing the rounds, which posits that part of why Mary Jane won out over Spidey's other long-term love interests was that because she wasn't originally intended to win, she had room to develop traits and dynamics beyond "superhero's put-upon girlfriend-"in fact, she had to, in order to present a plausible temptation away from whoever Spidey was quote-unquote "supposed" to be dating. I'm not a comprehensive Spidey reader, so I'm not going to go to the mattress for that read until I've read some more- but I do think there's some meat to that dynamic in general because of this show. Melanie Walker only shows up in three episodes and already she's got a ridiculously tangled family dynamic thrown into the mix, torn loyalties, the need to keep her head above water financially no matter what other goals she has, a cool hoverboard. Max Gibson's got an actual give-and-take back-and-forth with Terry and Bruce, the added interesting complication that she's trying to prybar her way even further into the game than either of them want her to but it's not like they have a way to make her leave. Dana is.... pissed that Terry is spending so much time with Mr. Wayne. Again. I mean, she's got a job to do, she clocks in at the start of each episode and does it.

This sort of harkens back to Invincible, where a major tenet of the first quarter of the book was that for logistical and ethical reasons, a superhero's dating pool is realistically limited to other players of the game- other people deep enough in the cape lifestyle that they can keep up and relate. Otherwise, your partner is going to spend most of the relationship stuck on the outside looking in, and even if they're nominally okay with the situation it's going to suck. Arguably, Amber in the comic fell into the pit of visibly existing mainly to demonstrate this, reproducing the dynamic they were critiquing. The show did a lot of legwork trying to make her more of an actively agentic character, but when the entire point is that a character in her position would have extremely limited agency there's only so much you can do to patch that. Then Eve rolls in, and it turns out you can do the exact same relationship beats about chronic unavailability, lack of communication and the like, but with a partner who's equally capable of showing up to all the big set piece fights and gorily eviscerating people in her own unique ways- a character who's consistently around in the story for reasons other than that she's dating the hero. You don't have to pick!

This got longer than I thought it was going to be. I do want to round out by saying that this sort of aligns neatly with something else that I've noticed- namely that a lot of post-10s cartoons also appear to have noticed this, and either hang back from biting off more than they can chew by committing to a romance subplot for their leads, or if there is a romance subplot they really aggressively commit to making sure the love interest approaches deuteragonist status in terms of airtime and agency. Hell, Steven Universe left the exact status of Steven and Connie's relationship ambiguous, and it still had a lot to say about the civilian girlfriend freezeout trope. Again- date other players!

[write-or-run]

Jack and Maddy as Justice League consultants

As the world's foremost experts on ectobiology the Fentons are an invaluable resource, and their activities probably count as vigilantism, but The JL never invited the couple as official JL members. 

Officially this is due to the Fentons being so specialized in ghosts and ectobiology. The Fentons are brilliant scientists, that much is indisputable. With their skills in biology, radiology, and engineering they managed to quantify a form of magic and pioneer a whole new field of study. 

It's just that they can get a little… absentminded. 

This ends up a moot point when Fentons (believing that the JL was about to invite them to join) state that they intend to focus on studying ghosts. But don't worry they would be happy to help out with any ghost problems!

…

edit: got rid of the duplicated paragraphs, Super embarrassing!!!

The League first became entangled with the Fentons when a young sorcerer named Nicolas Edgar Nolan, more commonly known as Nick Necro, launched an attack on the members of the Justice League. He sought revenge on Giovanni Zatara for rejecting him as a student when the stage magician discovered that Nick had become involved with a dark cult. 

Nick had managed to get his hands on a gauntlet that allowed him to create gremlin-like servants by sacrificing the lifeforce of other creatures. (Unbeknownst to him, the artifact's original owner, known only as the Overlord, was locked away within the gauntlet. With each additional minion the Overlord gains more influence over the user) The dark sorcerer had sent these creatures to attack the Justice League, thereby leaving Zatara without his allies. 

The artifact is eventually identified by Zatara as the Gauntlet of Tyranny, one of many curios that could be found in the Infinity Realm. Due to the gauntlet’s nature, its creations had the same properties as those of the Infinity Realm’s denizens, making them very hard to defeat. 

At least they were, until a couple of crackpot graduates from the University of Wisconsin-Madison came blasting onto the scene. 

Like everyone else in the world, the recently married Fentons were paying close attention to broadcasts about the latest alien invasion. Of course the couple were able to recognize the ghostly origin of the minion’s powers, and the pair immediately packed up their home-made ghostbusting equipment and set out on the most important cross-country trip of their life! (Unfortunately there was no way for them to fly out as the airport security refused to let them bring their blasters onboard)

Since Zatara’s main place of residence was in Gotham, that's where Nick Necro focused his attacks. It's also the direction that Jack and Maddy’s prototype Fenton Finder points them towards.

The Fentons make their way to Gotham with a trail of defeated minions and property damage behind them. Along the way they encounter Flash, Hawkwoman, and Captain Atom. The Fentons supply the heroes with their prototype ecto-based weaponry. Unfortunately the scientists don't wait to explain anything so the heroes are left to figure out who that couple was and how the gadgets work.

Flash is given a glowing baton that pops the minions on contact. Unfortunately it’s battery cant hold a charge and Flash has to keep repowering it with his lightning. 

Hawkwoman is frustrated when the hard light ecto-blade keeps fritzing out, but discovers the nth-metal of her mace stabilizes it. 

Captain Atom gets a giant tuning fork to his confusion. Eventually he figures out that by channeling his power through it the nearby minions are forcibly gathered at the fork’s end, and he can take them all out with one blast.

Upon arriving at Gotham the Fentons make their way to the city’s last operating clinic, arriving just in time to save doctor Leslie Thompkins. Together they fortify the clinic and set up a shield that keeps out all ghostly beings. 

Poor Batman hasn't gotten a break all week. A mystery enemy had been ambushing members of the League. By the time they identified the culprit as Nick Necro the man had been able to gather enough forces to launch a siege against America's largest cities, with a special focus on Gotham due to it being the home of Nick’s target, Giovanni Zatara. Now some unknown vigilanties were setting up base in his godmother's clinic. Sure the couple claim to want to help, but Batman didn't get this far by trusting people at face value. He interrogates them about everything,  why are you here, how do you know so much about the attackers, what are your devices, etc…

The Fentons are thrilled that this bat-themed fellow is so interested in their work and are happy to gush about it in between shooting minions. Batman is immediately given full access to their makeshift lab and equipment without so much as a thought to security or safety.

Baman begrudgingly teams up with the Fentons but will definitely do a more thorough (re: invasive) investigation on the Fentons later. But for now they cooperate to make a device that neutralizes the Gauntlet of Tyranny.

…

And that’s how it all started.

On one hand Jack and Maddie now have a support system of fellow scientists and vigilantes. On the other hand they are now heroes in the DCU.

Occasionally Jack and Maddie end up on comic book flavored adventures (I'm watching clips of Batman the Brave and the Bold while coming up with this). When they're gone the Fenton kids are usually looked after by their parents' work friends. Mr Terrific, Atom, Swamp Thing, Barry Allen, etc. At some point 12 yr old Dick ends up babysitting 6 yr old Jazz and 4 yr old Danny.

[spotsupstuff]

(hii Spot been awhile) Something I think that's interesting about the observation about how Slugcats are getting so much attention nowadays is that its almost a 180 from how things were in the pre-downpour days, iirc.

Though I am glad we're getting an AU like yours it's so interesting compared to the usual

Im eating with a fork

Yeah, the fandom was not particularly strong back then, but I think there was more Iterator content. My suspicion as to why slugcats are so much more popular now is because the general "cat appeal"*. Downpour brought in wider audience which mostly consists of people that go wild over cat videos on the internet.

Not my intention to throw shade on it, because after all what does my opinion matter to anyone, but I find the whole "cuteness cult" of the internet annoying and, when applied to Rain World, frustrating. There's a whole silent worldbuilding in basically every screen of the game and the only thing that people seem to take away post-DP is "cute sluggy go wooo :3 the Ancients were such cultist pricks Dx". Which like alright, but expand a little on the latter please? Try? There is So much fun to it when one moves past the "religion only BAD" mindset.

DP also I think didn't care much about the Ancients and the culture they left behind (and therefore the root of Iterators). "But there's Saint!" Saint is almost everything new that wasn't heard of before, can be taken as another fact of monstroid mad religion and, of course, it Has to be wrapped in a fluffy cat package. The undergrowth Echo also feels like a spit in the face to the lore/religion than an addition, to me. My *guess* would be the original intention was showing an individual who failed to ascend because of the Fifth Hindrance but it doesn't *feel* like it. If that was the intention, I think the author didn't understand why a desire to live/survive could ever, in any form, be bad

It's interesting as well in the sense that when there was only Survivor, maybe up to Hunter- the slugcats felt like a vehicle that brings the player to the story. The player saw the world through their eyes and got to experience the world's rules, abiding them- the original campaigns were still subject to the lore/religion of the world.

DP made the slugcats characters, the main focus, in some cases a rebelion against the lore/religion (forever beef against new route for Survivor and Monk). So people had an easier time latching onto them.

That is my theory at least. Fact is also when I first watched RW I almost didn't get into it as a creator because I felt like I had nowhere to hook to and work with. Characters are great anchor points for people to latch on to and then work with/through, so it's not like I blame the fandom for quite literally getting slug infested. It's natural and logical and I'm well aware of it as someone who's trying to be a writer. Still frustrating.

Either way, at least there's a vacuum for me to fill with something I'm actively actually passionate about. It's kind of a sweet bonus that people are somewhat interested, too.

[forgedsplendor]

Gojo Satoru: or, how the eyes are the windows into the soul.

everyone and their mothers have talked about the kfc breakup scene to hell and back, we've gotten a dozen and more think pieces about the episode on twitter and tumblr and wherever else, but I really needed to add my two cents because it's been on my mind ever since I watched the episode.

something fun I've noticed about mappa's adaption of jjk is the way they animate gojo's technique—specifically in relation to his eyes.

in season one, gojo's eyes were always animated very... otherworldly.

they're always glowing and sparkling in this weird, uncanny way, which is kind of the point: gojo is the six eyes, after all, and considering the anime's animated and colored medium compared to the original manga's black and white, paneled format, it's a good way to adapt and demonstrate gojo's powers in the way the manga cannot. it also serves to visually separate gojo from the rest of the characters; as the strongest, he is different from the rest.

however, when season two's teasers were first released, there's a particularly interesting detail...

... his actually normal looking eyes.

and, yeah! that makes sense. as much as gojo and geto's high school selves love to tout around the title of "the strongest", it's undeniable that compared to his twenty-eight year old self, this gojo is much weaker, incapable of holding up his technique indefinitely, and incapable of using red, hollow purple, his domain expansion, and reverse curse technique: all of which his adult self are using passively.

so, i had personally figured that these were the eyes of an unawakened gojo. that once he mastered reverse curse technique, his eyes would start to glow like his adult self. however... that was not the case! as we can see...

... they still glow! but only when he was using his technique. once he puts it down...

... the glowing fades as well.

especially in these last few screenshots, mappa establishes the difference between "invulnerable" ( untouchable, literally, with his infinity technique up ) gojo and "vulnerable" ( infinity down, so things can now touch him ) gojo, both literally and mentally. ( let's put a pin in that. ) after geto's reassurance gojo physically lets down his defences of his technique, and thinks that that they're safe... leading to toji taking advantage of that naïveté, and the rest is history.

it's important to note both, as it puts his adult self into a new context: we know that after coming back from the dead, gojo's mastery of reverse curse technique allows him to use his infinity indefinitely without frying his brain.

it's funny, because this parallels his way of coping, as we see here:

curse technique reversal: red. the opposite to blue's attract, it instead repels.

after going through the traumatic events of hidden inventory, gojo... feels nothing. he pushes away these feelings, numbing himself to them instead.

he activates his infinity...

... and becomes untouchable. or, in other words...

... invulnerable. ( physically and emotionally. )

at the beginning of episode five, we don't get very many close shots of gojo's eyes, but he is in the middle of demonstrating his new grasp of infinity; in contrast to geto's spiral, the main focus of the episode and premature death as a whole, we get shots of gojo's back, his gaze obstructed by his spectacles, his face obscured entirely...

... or simply just far away.

to be fair, this all is in geto's point of view, and is used specifically to higlight the canyon that's opened up between the two, but the visual language is the same. gojo is untouchable.

well. up until...

though it's hard to see the state of his eyes with his spectacles in the way. but this is very quickly remedied just a few minutes later.

... his eyes are not glowing.

infinity is not activiated. his technique is down. gojo satoru is vulnerable. literally, in the sense that his technique is not in use, because he is dealing with a friend and not an enemy user, and mentally, because he is angry and upset and horrified and in shock in a way he was not with amanai's death.

as we know, gojo is not one to react emotionally. when kuroi was kidnapped, he did not worry: simply thought of another solution. when toji ambushed them, he did not panic: simply asked geto to complete the mission as he stayed behind to fight him off.

however, with geto's defection...

he yells, makes himself bleed.

when amanai died, he'd said he felt nothing. he'd floated in the air, weightless, marveling at the beauty of the world above and around him.

with geto's defection...

while nakamura's voice acting and the incredible animated character acting was more than enough to get his anguish across, using the tells of gojo's technique as well was the icing on the cake.

the eyes are the windows to the soul, after all, and in this moment, intentionally or not, his were blown wide open as his world crumpled apart.

[jazjelspen]

the domestic life [pt.1]

(timeskip in the future/child and parent headcanons)

ever wondered what your future child/children would be like with your favorite dorm leader?

(includes: riddle, leona, and azul)

Riddle: Two kids. You and Riddle would most likely have two kids in your years together. In all honesty Riddle would've been happy with just one, but considering how his own childhood was he wouldn't want his child to grow up without a sibling to lean and rely on, he knows how much it would've helped him if he had a sibling himself.

You and Riddle(definitely Riddle) would be easy on your kids but not too much to where they would try to take advantage of it to get away with things since Riddle would try to wholeheartedly avoid any actions his own mother acted upon him in his younger years to keep him in 'line' but he also didn't want his children to slack off too much.

One kid would definitely have more of your physical attributes like hair color, face shape, nose, eyebrows, etc but then have Riddle's strict yet consistent traits when it comes to schoolwork and chores even if you two don't even push or nag your child to do said things, they've just always been naturally responsible. Despite this they are never really as uptight as Riddle was but has a lot of self-expectations and goals they themselves want to reach when they grow up.

Your other kid would definitely have more of your personality traits yet would definitely be more of the loose wild child that loves to have fun and at times can be a bit loud-- nonetheless your second kid would be the spitting image of Riddle with the exception of your eye color being present in theirs and a few beauty marks(if you yourself have any). As much of a slacker this kid could possibly be they are definitely as smart and responsible as their sibling too, they are those kinds of kids that didn't seem to study for a test yet still get high marks for it in the end.

These two as siblings would be a kind of iconic duo, the strictness of one sibling would keep the wild one in line while the wild child helps out their other sibling in learning to have fun, stay loose, and have no worries. Both have their own little study group together if any big and important tests come up, and they both help each other out pretty often. Fights aren't an unlikely occurrence but it's not something you'd see everyday since all they would really fight about is small things such as what game they should play, that they need to focus on school more, and just them having different opinions.

Leona: Three kids. Leona in his former years in NRC never really thought of having any kind of family, let alone more than one kid until he met you. When you both graduated from NRC and moved in with Leona in the palace there was already a hint of talking about your future family and originally you two wanted just two kids, so that your one child wouldn't have to grow up alone. That was until a third one came in and that's when you knew you two really had to calm it down a notch, but even if it was a surprise you two were still incredibly happy to have three absolutely adorable cubs!

Leona as a father definitely wouldn't be called a strict parent but he will always make sure his kids are attending to their studies and other activities, if one seems to be falling behind or in a sort of pause then either you or him will check up on them and help sort out any problem that's hindering them. There is also one thing I definitely want to point out about Leona, he most definitely will not have his children compete against each other or make any of them feel any less than the other! Everyone gets equal opportunities, an equal say in things, and equal chances.

Your oldest cub would have the more stoic and stubborn side of Leona's personality, as the aloof child of three they would most likely be one of those 'edgy' teenagers once they are of the age of adolescence. They have their father's ears, tail, eye color, and skin but would have the more softer features of you such as eye shape, nose, cheeks, and beauty marks(if you have any). They'd also definitely have your hair color and texture. They are smart and cunning in strategy yet they also have their father's competitive spirit, which can hinder them by having trouble in accepting losses at times. No worries tho! You and even Leona will try to get them to relax and accept that sometimes to win you need to accept a few losses first.

The middle cub will definitely have more of an overall resemblance to you aside from the fact that this little one has the tempter of a lion. They have your most prominent features such as eye color, eye shape, hair color, hair texture, nose, and even lip shape! Along with other features from Leona such as their skin, ears, and tail. This one seems like a calmest one out of the three little Kingscholars, an almost gentle soul with a heart of gold. You can sometimes see them sneak out to play with the local hyena children outside the castle, with an accompanying caretaker or even you! Despite these little positive traits this kiddo is definitely a firecracker when angry, they most definitely have the spirit of a lion. Being the most passive yet most aggressive cub out of all three this little one can at times be a bit of a handful.

The third and final Kingscholar cub is more of a better mix of the both of you when it comes to looks. They have their father's bright green eyes, skin, ears, tail, nose, and hair color. While they also have your hair texture, very similar resting expression, beauty marks(if any), eye shape, and even a similar personality. As mentioned just now they have a fraction of your personality while also just being one of the more curious yet shyest of the three, always looking for a sort of adventure despite their young age. They always ask for any stories you and Leona have to share as well as always asking for some magic lessons from their father. They seem more neutral than the other two but deep down it seems that they have a snippet of Leona's hunger for power(mostly magic wise than status). When Leona and you realize this you two try your best to remind them to stay humble and to not fly too close to the sun.

Azul: Two kids. Azul is a busy, busy business man and you both very well knew this. Azul knew that work would get tougher and more demanding of him so he really only considered having one child in his life so he would be able to easily catch up and even have an easier time hanging out with his child and you outside of work!... well that and the fact that he doubts himself constantly. In truth he's always wanted more than one child, but he doubts that even if he wants more than one he wouldn't be able to be as present to both of them equally and the thought alone brings him to tears. It took a lot of encouragement and reassurance from you to help him not only get his confidence in himself as a parent to come back strong but to also have the confidence of having the serious talk of how they'll be able to do this if they want to add another little octopi into the family. In the end after a few talks and some changes to his business and schedule to fit another Ashengrotto in the family you both decided it was time to welcome your next member into the world!

Azul would be both a lenient but strict parent, he wants his kids to be on top of their studies as usual but he also learned from you that there is also always extra time for having fun and relaxing. He would be the parent that is always the sharpest and the most good-looking while picking up his kids from school, as if he came straight out of a business meeting(most likely did). And at the mention of school-- if one day one of his kids come home crying because of a case of bullying by other students you will definitely see him speeding to the school to chew out the parents of the bullies and other authoritative figures that could've helped but didn't. After this you would be able to see Azul giving a small but heartfelt speech from the soul to both of his kids about how no matter what anyone says about them that they will forever be the greatest kids anyone could ever ask for, and that he'll forever be proud of them.

The first Ashengrotto child to mention is a neutral kind of kid, they study well, are good at magic, and have been able to adapt comfortably in the sea in their second form. They do inherit some of your personality traits where they shine in certain situations, but overall they are a very 'matter of fact' kind of kid. They wear glasses the same as their father but they definitely look a lot like you in the physical aspect as well such as hair, facial features, and expressions, may even consider them the spitting image of you! With the inclusion of Azul's iconic beauty mark and his eye color in theirs of course. They would eventually do well in anything related to law thanks to the knowledge of Azul's step-father and himself as well.

The next little octopus is more of the friendly and playful type, loving their homeland ,the sea, and they thrive in their octopus form in there as well. Physical attributes include Azul's silver hair and beauty mark, but your contribution also holds in the color of their eyes. This Ashengrotto has some cute chubby cheeks on their face that their uncle Floyd loves to pinch(Azul always gives him a death look if he pinches way too hard tho). When visiting the sea they make great friends with the fishes and other creatures that sometimes when it's time to go home on land it'll probably be with them crying on the way back home, but in the end there's no need to worry since as they get home their uncles Floyd and Jade will be there! Those two always make days a little extra fun(especially Floyd).

[unholyhelbig]

I’ve always been curious about Kate bishops background and would love to hear a paraphrased version if ur okay with it

[Absolutely I can! Just a little disclaimer, I'm doing this mostly from memory, so I may get a few things wrong. But I promise the gist is there, and this has gotten way too long, so uh... part one? I guess? I didn't even get to the vampires. If people are into this. I'll keep going.]

Okay, let’s start with Kate’s backstory.

The Bishop family has issues. Eleanor, Kate’s mom, is distant but portrayed as a generally good person. She and her husband Derek have an estranged relationship. She travels a lot and is regarded as an activist throughout her life until her untimely death when Kate is still just a kid.

Kate develops admiration for her father. He’s a publishing magnate but it’s soon revealed that he has ties to the crime world. Kate, despite her young age, follows her father to a meeting with El Matador. While there, she gets captured by the crime lord to be held for ransom.

This is where she see’s Clint for the first time, who saves her with the rest of the avengers. She took an instant liking to him because he was the only human on the team without advantages. At this point, she does make Clint her role model and starts to distance herself from her family to focus on activism like Eleanor.

Kate didn’t’ truly start training in combat until she was attacked in Central Park. This kicked off her love of self-defense. She originally felt isolated and in some cannon media, this moment in the park still haunts her beyond belief. (Young Avengers Special #1 [2005]  is a great comic that’s stand alone & shows the mentorship between Jessica Jones and Kate. TW for SA.)

Que the Young Avengers.

(My personal favorite Kate Bishop Design)

Kate has an older sister that’s been completely written out of the MCU adaptation. Her name is Susan, and she doesn’t have the greatest relationship with Kate, they’re not openly hostile, but they don’t enjoy each other either. Still, Kate is in Susan’s wedding party.

During the wedding, the church comes under fire and the Young Avengers swoop in to save the day. But they awkwardly become hostages themselves and Kate uses one of Patriots throwing stars to get them out of the situation before the police show up.

Kate very ungracefully demands to become a part of the Young Avengers (The original team is: Cassie Lang, Eli Bradley, Tommy Shepard, Billy Kaplan, Nate Richards, and Teddy Altman). Kate originally doesn’t have a hero identity, so she raids the Avengers Mansion and dawns Mockingbirds staves and mask, swordsman’s sword and belt and Hawkeyes abandoned bow.

Captain America and Iron man were not happy about the team and demanded that they disband. But eventually gave in after the Young Avengers refused to back down. Kate was the only one to stand up to Steve and demand that they get better training. He agreed and put Jessica Jones in charge of the team. This is when Kate becomes Hawkeye. Steve gives her the title and the bow. She’s the unofficial leader of the Young Avengers.

What about Clint?

Dude is dead in the Young Avengers run. Clint makes his valiant return in the massive Civil War event that Marvel comics created. He was resurrected and is absolutely pissed when he finds out that Steve gave his name and his bow away.

Clint actually attacks Kate while she’s on a date with Eli Bradley in Central Park. He’s officially Ronin at this point and is impressed by Kate’s skills after she breaks into his place to steal her bow back. He unofficially (but also totally officially) allows her to take the mantle.

The Children’s Crusade

I’m skipping a lot of small side quests that Kate takes (even though they’re a lot of fun) because Children’s Crusade is possibly the most important part of her journey, and by the looks of it, is the basis for where the MCU is planning to go in the next few years.

Kate has a really strong friendship with Billy Kaplan, aka Billy Maximoff. He’s the strongest magic being to ever inhabit earth and when his powers become dangerous the Avengers decide to lock him up. That didn’t slide with Kate, and they ended up breaking him out of the tower and entering alternate timelines in search of Billy’s mom- Wanda Maximoff.

This was pure, time-warp chaos. Wanda had forgotten who she was and was about to marry Doctor Doom when the Young Avengers showed up and pulled her out of it. She regained her powers and her memories, coming to terms with Billy and Tommy being her sons.

Once in their original timeline, a massive fight breaks out between the Avengers and the x-men. It’s a whole thing that ends up killing Cassie Lang. Her death ends up disbanding the original Young Avengers who go their separate ways to come to terms with how dangerous being a hero really is.

Matt Fraction? Matt Fraction.

Listen, if you’re looking for the inspiration behind the general vibe of the show Hawkeye, this is the run for you. If you read anything from Kate’s comic journey, let it be this. You don’t need any prior knowledge to Kate or Clint to enjoy this one and the artwork heavily inspired the intro to the show.

In this series, Clint is the owner of an apartment building that’s since been taken over by the tracksuit mafia. Kate and Clint have an established friendship and the dynamic is very much like the show. But grittier. The series leans into Clint’s deafness and Kate’s trauma. It’s a basis for their relationship.

Los Angeles, baby

Kate goes to LA a lot. It’s her home away from New York and her arcs there are some of my favorite (it’s a guilty pleasure, honestly). During her run with Matt Fraction’s Hawkeye, she has a particularly bad fight with Clint. She takes Lucky and jets off to the beach to find her niche.

Kate becomes a very cool, very chill private eye for her first solo run; Hawkeye Private Eye. While she does eventually go back to New York to help out Clint, she starts her own business in Los Angeles where she teams up with Jessica Jones and Laura x23. Very fun, very goofy series.

[This took...hours. Literal Hours. But I have access to all the digital archives for Kate so, I'm more than happy to keep going lol]

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Gosh looks like today needs more Kakashi positivity

Kakashi's first lesson to his students is 'fuck the rules if your friends are in danger/need your help

Kakashi actively wins multiple fights on his own and even holds his own against Kakuzu and Hidan without using the MS. Cannonly (Manga only) Kakashi wins against Zabuza (twice), the seven deadly swordsmen, multiple enemies in the war arc. Kakashi is also portrayed as more of a leader than a direct fighter, excelling most when he can lead a team to victory (like in the Kaguya fight).

Obito's eye is a GIFT to him. It doesn't matter if he 'shouldn't have it' or any other reason people come up with for him being crap for using it. He is the only character we see with a Sharingan (that is none Uchiha or even Uchiha in the vast majority of cases) who was 100% gifted the eye and told to use it. He uses it to honor the memory of a friend he lost.

Kakashi is the only character we see actively stand up to the system from inside the system. He's the one who stands up to Danzo to save Yamato. He's the one who turns his back on the 'New Hokage' (Danzo) and takes Naruto out of the village during a time when ALL shinobi are supposed to be restricted to inside of the village. He's the one who ignores Hiruzen's order's and plan in order to go save Yamato. He turns his back on Tsunade giving him an S-Ranked missiong to go after two of his students.

Kakashi taught each of his students something in the short amount of time we actually got to see him in teaching mode. He helps Sasuke improve his taijutsu so much that Gai is impressed by his improvements in the short span of a month. He teaches Sasuke his Chidori. He teaches Sakura the Qi release. He teaches Naruto how to make use of his shadow clones to learn faster (something Naruto uses both to create his rasenshuriken in such a short span of time and which he again uses later to learn sage mode.). That's not even touching on the obvious moments of teaching them about teamwork and chakra control (with the tree climbing)

Kakashi cared about all of his students. When he saw Itachi he assumed he was there for Sasuke, and when he found out he was there for Naruto he was just as ready to fight to protect his students. He carries Naruto on his back after he exhausted himself and gives Naruto a head pat. Seeing a bit of himself in Sasuke does not mean he ignored any of his students. While other teachers were hyper-focused on one student, Kakashi at least recognized he was only one person and when he needed to hyper-focus on Sasuke he still made sure that Naruto had someone to train him in chakra control as that was his weakest point.

Kakashi is the Hokage that made genuine changes to the system. He's the one who made a no-kill order for the shinobi of Konoha. He's the one who redirected Konoha's system away from shinobi toward a more economic system. It was during his reign that Konoha became an economic giant and grew exponentially in size.

Kakashi also became stronger after losing the Sharingan. The Sharingan was a gift from Obito that directly hurt him because he didn't have any magical fixes to keep him from getting chakra exhausted. the chakra was constantly being drained from him by the Sharingan, making him chronically fatigued just by existing with Obito's gift.

Kakashi's purple lightning is a stronger move than his chidori and does not require the sharingan. He's also capable of turning pieces of his mud wall jutsu to glass to deflect electricity before returning it to mud so that it is not left as an extremely fragile material that would shatter under most other attacks. this is a feat that was thought to be impossible even by the person who originally suggested it.

His chakra pool is so much bigger that he held a mud wall for three days and released it when he was ready to go on the attack

he defeated 50 jonin rank missing nin shinobi with a frying pan and some really well-used genjutsu

he's always learning and growing. Kakashi in OG Naruto was one of Konoha's strongest ninja and he STILL trained to get stronger after Naruto left because he knew he needed to. The same Kakashi who made the mistake of looking directly into Itachi's eye in their first fight then turned around and tricked Itachi into wasting a MS move on a shadow clone.

[zoeythebee]

How To Make Your Code Actually Good

This is about programming structure and organization. Resources online are very sparse, and usually not super helpful. Which was unhelpful to me who was struggling with code organization.

So I wanted to make this, which will explain how best to structure your code based on what I've learned. What I lay out here may not work for everyone but it works well in my experience.

These resources were very helpful for me

Handmade Hero - https://youtu.be/rPJfadFSCyQ

Entity Component System by The Cherno - https://youtu.be/Z-CILn2w9K0

Game Programming Patterns - https://gameprogrammingpatterns.com/

So, let's get started.

So first we need to cover a few terms. These are Decoupling, and Abstraction.

Decoupling

So, when we code there is only so much information we can keep inside of our brain at one time. If we kept all of our code in a single file, we would have to keep in mind every single line of code we have written thus far. Or, more likely, we would actively ignore certain lines that aren't relevant to whichever problem we are trying to solve. And miss possible errors by skipping over lines we didn't know were important.

This is bad, what we need to do is decouple our code. Decoupling just means to break something up.

We need to split our code into smaller more manageable pieces so that we can focus better on it without cluttering up our brain with useless information.

For example lets take into account a basic game loop

int main(){

bool running = true;

// Game init code

while(running){

// Game update code

}

// Game exit code

return 0;

}

Obviously in a real example this would be much larger. So an extremely good start would be moving chunks of code into different functions.

int main(){

bool running = true;

gameInit();

while(running){

gameUpdate();

}

gameExit();

}

Now, when we are working on loading the game, we shouldn't have to think about what's happening in the rest of the app. This may take moving some code around inorder to truly seperate it from the rest of the code. But it is a very worthwhile effort.

Abstraction

Abstraction is when we take complex pieces of code and put them inside of a function or structure to make that feature easier to use. Or to hide tiny details that would be a waste of time to type out over and over.

For example programming languages are abstracted away from Assembly. Which of course is a thin abstraction away from machine code.

Now abstraction is great, computer science is practically built ontop of abstracting away small details. but the point I'd like to make here is that you can go too crazy with abstraction.

If you are making a gui application, and you need to create a new button. And to do so you need to run a function that returns a new class that you pass into another function that returns a pointer to an app state that you use with the original class to interact with a gui state that takes in a general state class and a position.

You have abstracted too far away to actually getting that button on screen. And due to all the hoops your code has to go through you will face major performance hits as well. And nobody likes a slow program.

Generally my rule of thumb is one layer of abstraction. Obviously for really complex stuff like graphics more abstraction is required. But for our own apps we should strive to as little abstraction as possible. Which makes code more clear and easier to debug, if a little more verbose at times.

Note that breaking things up into other files and functions are pretty cheap abstraction/performance wise. But the number of steps your code has to go through is what's important. Like the number of objects you have to go through, and functions you have to run.

Now these are good general tips for programming. There are also other good tips like consistent naming conventions, and consistent function names and argument patterns. But that's all pretty basic good-programming-things-you-should-do.

Now when I was learning this sort of stuff, I got told a lot of the stuff I just put above. But the biggest question I had was "but where do I PUT all of my code?"

As projects grow in complexity, figuring out sane ways to organize your structures and code logic in a way that makes sense is pretty tricky.

So to kinda crystallize how I think about code organization is basically.

Pick a pattern, and stick to it

A design pattern is just a piece of code structure you repeat. And there are lots of smart people that have come up with some pretty smart and flexible patterns. Like entity component systems, and state machines.

But sometimes you have to figure out your own, or modify existing patterns. And the best way to do that is to not plan at all and jump right in.

Do a rough draft of your app just to get a general idea of what you are going to need your pattern to support. And you may have to build up a pattern, find out it sucks, and start over. The trick is to fail fast and fail often.

Grabbing some paper and trying to diagram out how you want your app to flow is also handy. But getting your hands dirty with your keyboard is the best.

Now if you are new to programming, the above method probably wont work the first time. The only way to really learn code architecture is by building apps, and when you are first starting out many of your apps are probably falling apart early on. But the more you build these apps the more you learn. The bigger the apps you make, the more you learn.

But there is something that's also very helpful.

Steal somebody else's pattern!

So I can explain this best with an example. I make games, and the complexity I have to deal with is having multiple game objects that can all interact with each other fluidly. Enemies, the player, collectibles, moving platforms. This is a pretty tricky task, and I wound up picking two patterns to follow.

The first one is a modified version of a State Machine that I call a Scene Manager.

A scene is essentially a structure that contains an init, update, and exit function and can store data relating to the scene. And I have a Scene Manager that I can dynamically load and unload scenes with. So if I need to create a main menu or a pause menu it's as easy as loading a scene.

For my actual game scene I chose to use an Entity Component System. I linked a video above that explains it very well. To summarize, an ECS use entities. Entities can contain data called components. And systems will grab any entity that has the required components and will modify that entity. For example a Move system will operate on any entities that have the Position and Velocity components.

And this has worked very well for my game. Now this doesnt solve every problem I had. I still had to fill in the gaps with code that doesnt 100% match the pattern. After all there isnt any pattern that will fix all possible issues a codebase needs to solve. For example to delete an entity I have to add it by reference to an array where it is deleted AFTER the game is done updating.

Elsewhere I used a bit of abstraction to make creating entities easier. For example i created a class that stores methods to create entities. Whereas before I was manually adding components to empty structures.

Decoupling entity creation meant I could focus on more important things. I also deal with window resizing and rendering in a layer outside of the scene. In a way that would affect all Scenes.

An Example

In the game I'm making, the most complex part of the program so far is the player update code. Which makes sense for a platformer. So the issue is simple, it's getting too long. But the other issue is things are in places that don't immediately make sense. And it's all packed inside a single function.

You can view the code as it is now here.

Our goal is to decouple the code into pieces so that it takes up less brain space. And to reorganize the function so it's layout makes more immediate sense.

So my first step is to figure out a logical way to organize all of this code. My plan is to split it up by player actions. This way all of the jump logic is inside it's own function. All of the shooting logic is in it's own function etc.

Here is the code after implimenting the pattern.

Notice how this decouples the code into more manageable pieces so we can work on it better. Also note how I am still keeping one layer of abstraction from the player update code. I also put it in a seperate file to slim down the systems file.

So the method I implemented here of observing a problem, coming up with a pattern, and implementing it. That at a larger scale is how to overall structure a good code base. Here in this small instance I found a working solution first try. But for more complex code you may have to try multiple different patterns and solutions before you find what works best.

And that's all I have to say. I hope it made sense, and I hope it helps you. Let me know if I should change anything. Thanks for reading!

[khaire-traveler]

This is not an invitation for discourse. I am just stating my personal opinions.

I've been seeing some posts going around lately about myth retellings and wanted to give my opinion on something: I think the helpol community (maybe other polytheistic and pagan communities, too) is honestly too critical and intense about modern retellings (and even some historical ones as well somehow).

I know what it's like coming from that critical point of view. I used to be highly critical of certain retellings and stories that used Greek mythology. They used to deeply bother me, actually, but overtime, I realized that staying mad and fuming about these things I can't change - that will always be created - is really exhausting and even causes me to miss out on some truly interesting stories.

Also, seeing how intense some people can be about retellings has actively discouraged people in the community from writing them. How do I know this? I am one of those people, and I happen to know several others in the same predicament. Some people in the community will rip and tear and claw at retellings as if the retelling murdered everyone they loved. People talk about these retellings as if they're literally destroying the earth itself sometimes - like, seriously, y'all, it's wild.

Once, I saw someone post a short story they wrote - a retelling of a myth that I won't name, as I don't want to give the identity of this person away. This person posted this story with good intentions and was a worshipper of the figures depicted within the story, but still, they got absolutely dragged by larger Tumblr blogs and were torn into and literally chased off of Tumblr. This kind of behavior is not ok for multiple reasons, but the main point I'm trying to make is that we are actively making it harder for people within the community to write retellings. You want retellings from people who actually worship the gods? Then maybe make the community a much less judgmental place because sharing creative works takes a lot of courage as it is. Imagine building up the courage to create and share a retelling just to be ripped into by the very community you are a part of. I'm not saying you can't mention to someone when they've gotten something wrong or have written something potentially problematic, but I am saying that you shouldn't ruthlessly dissect someone's work and rip them a part if they seem to be well-meaning but misinformed (assume the best; not everyone is out to get us; easier said than done, I know). You can give criticism while still being respectful to the original author.

For many of these other authors, however, they likely don't even know that worship of these gods exists in the modern day, and even if they do know, acknowledging it may not be relevant to their story, or even their point. Sure, in a perfect world, these authors would acknowledge our little community and pay homage to actual ancient traditions/culture/etc, but we don't live in a perfect world, and that's ok. It is ok, y'all. Not every author writing a retelling is going to be a literal classics major or historian. Not every author writing a retelling is going to be educated on the actual ancient -or modern - worship of these gods. Not every author writing a retelling is going to pay homage to original source material. Do those things suck sometimes? Yes, absolutely. Do we need to lose our heads over it? No, not really. We can choose to focus on other things - on material and media that we actually enjoy and that do depict things how we'd like them to be depicted.

Now, none of this is to say that there are no problematic retellings or that speaking out on problematic retellings is wrong because hoo, boy, there are quite a lot of those. Some retellings claim to be historically accurate and are, in fact, not; some retellings are written by authors with less than ideal values and ideologies; some retellings are even based entirely on misinformation which can be frustrating to hear about. All of these things are true, but it's also true that not every retelling is out to get us. Not every retelling is trying to attack our small community and the gods we worship. As alarming and offensive as it can feel sometimes, it's important that we take a minute and realize that honestly, authors write stories, and sometimes a story is truly just meant to be a story. It's nothing personal. It feels like we, or our gods, are being attacked, but at the end of the day, we still have our own practices, and we are still allowed to engage with those practices. We are still allowed to worship our gods respectfully, even if others do not. And it is important to acknowledge here that others do not worship our gods. These authors are most likely not worshippers of the Theoi. They most likely do not have relationships with these gods as we do, and unfortunately, they may not have respect for these gods either. It would be ideal if they did, but they just might not, and there's no controlling that.

Honestly, most authors are trying their best. They're trying their best to write an interesting, authentic story that will capture the attention of their intended audience. They want to tell a story based on a mythology that inspired them so deeply, so carnally, that they felt the need to write a whole ass book or create a whole ass game about it. They see stories of tragic heroes, powerful gods, and all those caught in-between, and they think, "This is fucking epic; I'm gonna do something with this." Greek mythology is fucking cool. There's absolutely no denying that, and the fact that so many creators of all kinds continue to create retellings based on the love and passion of a mythology from over 2,000 years ago is pretty damn awesome, actually.

[ozzgin]

Dearest Ozzgin, do you have any tips on how you stay motivated ? Everytime I go to write something I feel majorly stumped.

(P.s I love your work!)

During the pandemic I struggled to keep up with my academic studies, and so I got myself a self-help book about excelling in science: A mind for numbers by Barbara Oakley. I'm mentioning this because it ended up offering great insight on how to stay focused, motivated, and disciplined, regardless of what you're doing, and I use the advice to this day, even for my hobby writing. This is a mix of everything: tips from the book, other advice I've found online, and what helps me in particular.

Find a schedule. I personally find it easier to start an activity once it becomes part of my routine. It's something my brain anticipates and prepares for. Now, it doesn't have to be an exact timetable. But you can have a look at your current schedule, and come up with a rough interval. For example, you might have more time in the evening, or maybe you have a burst of energy in the morning. Pick a time when you're not too tired and try to stick to it most days.

Focus on the process, not achievement. So, you've established your routine. What did you set as an achievement? Concrete goals, such as finishing up a story, or writing a given number of words? While this isn't a bad idea, it can sometimes contribute to that stumped feeling you've mentioned. I once read an article from a professor who suggested the following: pick your time window, and focus on just doing something. In that hour you've dedicated to writing, you can write as planned, or you can sketch up the characters, create visuals, build an outline, draw a timeline, collect bullet points to elaborate later on, and so on. Maybe you're not particularly inspired at the moment; don't let it stress you out, just work around it instead.

Don't force yourself. Our brain uses two different processes for thinking - the focused and diffuse modes. In order to solve a problem or task, it's ideal to be in a focused mode. Your brain is actively building connections and coming up with solutions. A neat little detail, however, is that your brain doesn't stop working once you move on from a problem. It continues fiddling with it in the background: that's the diffuse mode. It's why you sometimes have a sudden eureka moment, despite not actively thinking of said topic. If you're struggling with your story and can't come up with anything, step away. Do activities that trigger your diffuse mode, like sleeping, listening to music, walking, cycling, drawing, taking a shower or bath, meditating. Let your mind fiddle with it freely, give it some time, and try again later.

Don't worry about how you write. You don't have to sit down and write entire paragraphs. I used to have an idea for a story, then I'd struggle to come with connectors for said idea. What happens before that? How do I begin? I'd end up wasting a lot of time writing the premise instead of the actual thought I originally had. Now I just write down whatever I feel like, while I have the inspiration, and fill the rest later. Even if it's just a sentence, or a concept, scribble whatever comes to mind and patch it up afterwards. It'll be easier to continue when you have a starting point to build around.

Small steps. Lastly, it's okay to take breaks, and it's perfectly fine to have days, weeks, or even months when you're simply just not in the mood. There are other ways in which you can build your story. You can draw the characters, build world maps, watch movies related to your topics, create fitting playlists, all that jazz. Be patient with yourself and don't forget why you're (presumably) writing in the first place - because it brings you joy. :)

[sassy-bi-latina]

Dream final thoughts

I'm calm now. I actually think I won't say as much as originally planned cause I am no longer in the heat of the moment. But I still want to write about this show. Mostly cause I remember I wanted to do the same with GAP and then I didn't. My thoughts will be a mess so I'm sorry beforehand. I don't know where they'll lead throughout the post. SO LET'S FIND OUT TOGETHER.

I'll start by saying, I have read 5 books of Chaoplanoy (GAP, Blank, Dream, Us and Mate). Against my better wishes. I do this because my brain gets anxious by not knowing what happens. So reading the books helps me because it gives me a better idea where it'll go. It sometimes gives more insight to the characters like in Dream or The Secret of Us (which isn't a Chaoplanoy book but serves as an example). It also helps me see the adaptation in a different way and sometimes it helps me appreciate it more, for example, in Blank, which the book felt like Nueng was a bit predatory but the adaptation imo was so good, it just felt like a love story with two people with an age gap and nothing else which the book failed to deliver.

Okay, that being said, I said against my better wishes because if you know me and you talk to me, you will know I do NOT like Chaoplanoy's writing whatsoever. At first I thought it might be issues with translations but as I read more stories, I started to perceive patterns in her writing style that I didn't like.

Onto her adaptations, IDF gave us the biggest GL in recent times, they weren't the first to propose doing one, they just were the fastest so I think they got lucky. And I won't take credit away from the actresses nor the team behind GAP, but I genuinely feel like whomever had taken the first step would have been a success. IDF just so happens to be the first.

I will say, IDF released an initial pilot trailer that looked promising and while the editing and some of the acting choices didn't convince me as much, I was very sold with the plot points. And I think some of the things that distance themselves from the original book were a bit more interesting, like the focus on Song's relationship and the focus on the second lead couple which was scratched till the point they were just crumbs what we were getting. At the end, they decided to change some things at the beginning and then on the second part decided to be more loyal to the book. Which for me didn't work as much. Don't get me wrong, I did like GAP, I just think they did a disservice trying to initially take a different route to the book just to do a U turn and go back to it, because it didn't feel consistent.

And why am I saying all this about GAP when in theory it's my thoughts about Dream?

GREAT QUESTION MY FRIENDS.

And it's simply because while IDF "failed" in GAP by maintaining too loyal to the book they have the opposite issue with Dream, in which they lead astray so much and just didn't arrive to the heart of the people as well as it could have.

Dream, from the 5 books I've read has been the best one. Not only did I not actively dislike it, I genuinely enjoyed it and I genuinely think that had the show been more like the book more people would have.

For starters, a thing I've seen people complain about a lot is the lack of backstory of Kimwan. We're just thrust into their angst and they expect us just to feel for them without previously giving us anything to make us feel for them. That doesn't happen in the book. It starts with them as teenagers. We are told about the dreams, we are told how they met, we're actually told how they didn't get along at first. We get to see their school life. We see how they genuinely met (Mali was a loyal friend to Wan, a bit too loyal, and locked Kim in cause she didn't like how she treated Wan, which wasn't bad just Mali didn't like it). We ACTUALLY get to see Pam and how Wan and her had a rivalry going even them (just because Wan couldn't take someone being as pretty and equally admired as her).

We spend a couple of chapters just getting to know them, their bond just not between them two, but also with their friends. Did you know Kim got better at drawing because of Wan? The drawing she gave her during Valentine's? She practiced until late at night, because she has ALREADY given her a drawing that wasn't very good but she promised the next one was gonna be better, also because she knew Wan was gonna pick her next partner based on gifts.

Wan didn't end up confessing for the same reason as the show with the difference that the mothers WERE together, which was something I didn't like, and I did prefer they just kissed. But it made sense in the book that Wan never confessed, the mothers were together and she knew that would have broken Kim if she found out AFTER they got together.

Imo, in the show Wan could have confessed earlier cause they never actually got together but I guess she lost her bravery.

After we spent knowing them and loving them in highschool for a couple of chapters, which I think was at least 1/3 of the book we have a time jump where their story as adults starts.

The other thing is, we spent so much time with Marwin? Props for Heng, more work supposes that there's more pay for him but not so much for us. Marwin overstayed his welcome.

In the book, he was there but it didn't feel overwhelming. For starters, we know him at the same time Wan does. He is already established as Kim's boyfriend. Wan isn't thrilled but tries because it's Kim's choice. Kim never goes to work with him either. We also hear about the beach, but it's in passing, I think this, contrary to the highschool moments could have served better as a flashback. And tbh, in the show, contrary to the book, Kim seems more interested in Marwin, in the show he's just there. While in the book they have a genuine connection. You aren't necessarily rooting for him but it's understandable why Kim feels comfortable with him, which is exactly why Wan tries.

Another important thing that I think is lacking a bit in the show is that they kind of undersold Kim. Kim is as loyal to Wan as Wan is to Kim. I think one of the moments that reflects that best is in the scene where they're alone with Marwin's parents, in which, yeah they talked bullshit about Kim and Wan jumped them like in the show but then they started attacking Wan and that is Kim's limit. Matter of fact, Wan is surprised how Kim acts, so reassure and not taking anyone's bullshit and she says it herself, she doesn't care what anyone says about her but she will never let anyone talk shit about Wan.

Also, not only are they very loyal to one another, but they are best friends. Wan is actually with Kim when she receives the news about her mother having cancer, unlike the show, she's in late stages and I had hope they would change her dying but they didn't 😔, cause I'm the book she doesn't even receive treatment cause it felt hopeless. And I think stuff like that showcases their bond. I found it odd that you are going through that struggle and your first instinct isn't to tell your best friend even if they were fighting at the time, especially considering their bond.

Next up is the matter of the actual letter and the confessing their feelings. Yay for Samorn and her nosiness for saving her friends. But I actually did prefer how it happened in the books. Samorn, actually keeps telling Wan that she better act soon but she better not do anything on the wedding day, which is understandable. My girl is smart, she knew the consequences.

Wan doesn't throw the letter, or well, she does, on the shooting she's having that same day but our boy Pat picks it up and attempts to read it aloud and Wan is like "Hey that's mine" to which Pat responds with "Not anymore, you threw it". Wan ends up snatching it back and out of her OWN will reads it. By having Samorn taking a pic and telling Wan to read it, it feels like they took away a bit of Wan's autonomy. It just made me feel a bit weird about the whole scene.

I WILL say, the little moment between the four girls and the camping scene afterwards? Impeccable. Wouldn't touch it for nothing in the world. Marvellous. Gorgeous. Lives rent free in my mind. Thank you very much.

And last but definitely not least, the decline of Marwin. I think they shouldn't have cramped it all in the last episode. I think they should have taken 1 episode and a half of a slow decline, cause that's what happened, at first what Marwin started doing wasn't perceived much by Wan, she thought it was weird that both the fathers decided to retire early but nothing much until she realized it was Marwin. Which, btw, another moment in which Kim's loyalty is shown, she met Marwin behind Wan's back because she couldn't take Wan hurting, cause she wasn't getting much jobs done. But Wan interfered, which shows Wan's maturity imo, since she was like "Don't do that on your own. Every hardship we talk about it and we see how we deal with it TOGETHER" which I think is very sweet. Anyway, they did attempt to apologize together like in the show, and his villain monologue also happened but in the show it fell flat. I think it was better established how he became the very thing he didn't want to be. You knew beforehand his dreams and aspirations and how what he did he did it out of love (regarding his businesses) and not money.

I WILL SAY, I don't necessarily think the show is horrible. The actresses are amazing and have great chemistry. I really liked the secondary couple, although I wish we would have seen more of them. I did like they DIDN'T make the fathers soulmates like in the book. I adore the bond between the four girls. I like the inclusion of Pam and Dokrak. I liked Pat and him being such a nice guy. I also think Jessie was a fun addition.

I ALSO think, that with some different editing, rearranging some scenes the show would have been better.

I also think IDF needs to learn that people like angst but different shows and stories require different formulas because angst for the sake of angst isn't fun.

If you're here, thank you for reading this long ass post.

As a treat, some fun facts

- If you've seen Blank, you know that one radio show Anueng likes, well, in the book of Blank, Wan actually calls the station and explains her story with Kim.

- The singer of the MV is Pleng from the Affair book, series coming out this month, on the 30th.

- The other MV actress in the book is a reporter that had a scandal, if I'm not mistaken a sex tape of her with another woman was leak. I think I read somewhere that she also has a book 🤔. But I don't recall her name.

ANYWAY, with that. I leave. I probably didn't say a lot of the stuff I initially wanted but that's mostly because I'm calm now.

One final thing, IDF you shall pay for your crimes. And please give me fluffy Faymay. I DESERVE it 🥺.

PS. I do not want to be tagged as one of those persons that is like "Oh the book is better" and sounds bitchy about literally any adaptation. Far from it. Matter of fact, ask my friends, they'll tell you how much I dislike that IDF has me defending Chaoplanoy's books 😔.

An addition that I forgot and it's very much necessary: I wish they would have, at ANY point, made Kim tell Wan that they IN FACT slept together at the beach, she just gaslighted her cause she got scared? THAT WAS NOT A GODDAMN DREAM AND THAT'S THE HILL I'LL DIE ON!!!