#Mentions of scars

[stone-97]

Interlude GGY: My Secrets Laid Bare

              I expected to never wake again, content to vanish into thin air. Many say that your afterlife depends on how you lived your life. An expanse of white and blue beyond my room the only splash of color in this Purgatory of mine. As expected prior to my little Kill Switch, I ended up in the most befitting of Afterlife for a being like me; too machine-like to be mistaken for a human, human-like enough to be judged after death.

              It’s peaceful here, my punishment was the very thing I desired, silence and books everlasting. With nothing but time and books to read, I ruminated on my past and what I left behind. I lived in paranoia and puppet strings, no light or miracle was in sight, a human puppet, in every sense of the word. I was taught not to feel, to imitate the living, to better hunt the boss’s preferred prey.

              However, the weasel never put stock in what would happen if I disagreed with his pet and him. Many of my thoughts are as mechanical as the chip I was made from, hence why my loyalty was as fake as the Plex’s pizza. Without true loyalty, my words were little more than lip service and false platitudes, that was enough to keep them away.

              Can’t deny I wasn’t the most innocent creature to ever live. I committed many crimes on people for my selfish desires, performed many wretched mind games from Saw movies to obtain whatever I wanted from criminals that fell under my gaze. However, I refused to kill children, such actions were pointless, combined with the public’s suspicions towards the Plex in general would've led to police busting down the doors en mass. That included the weasel’s failed plan at possessing a flesh and blood body, an intriguing ritual that required pure parental love to work.

              Under the eyes of the law, I would be declared unstable and lacking humanity, they wouldn’t be wrong but to myself, the only crimes I committed were upon the vile and inhumane. I saw nothing wrong with committing my version of karma on them, my prey wouldn’t be missed, and making them disappear like they didn’t ever exist. The reality was no One would ever miss what was universally hated by society and the world.

              His last name brought up one of two projects I kept “shelved” when the “Wizard” inquired. Luis Cabrera was as sharp as a Cyber Security employee, yet blind when it came to Vanny and Vanessa. It shouldn’t have been possible, but it was so obvious I splashed cold water in my face to ensure I hadn’t been dazed or dreaming the conclusion.

“Vanny loved another, it’s almost impossible to acknowledge.” I feel something alien in me, was this humor?

“For all his bragging, the “Wizard” was a jealous bot it seems.” I seem to be contemplating this more with every passing day.

“Truly Vanny, you discarded something worthwhile for a petulant machine.” My mocking brings up a forgotten memory.

“Seems you truly couldn’t throw him away, could you?” Vanny’s manic handwriting was easy to decipher.

              I find myself fascinated by Vanny’s actions, what drove her to lie and disobey our “Master.” Very few things could be said about her, the biggest being she’s a pleaser. She couldn’t go a day without trying to please our boss or try to impress the FazEnt vultures. Luis, she had a special little room dedicated to the time she’d been at their home. Seems like he had a profound impact on her.

“She must’ve been squirrelling away Remnant to bring him back. Shame that Amalgatronic tried to use his corpse.” Twirling a trophy of mine brought back that particular day.

              That horrific day marked Vanny’s turn, from loyal puppet to empty follower. Seems the “Wizard” had ordered Vanny’s Prototype Units to patrol his lair. Blind luck is what I called that incident, apparently the Prototypes programming was crafted using Ennard’s as a base. Afton truly was a monster, Ennard was described as a body snatcher in the blueprint, reports were logged of the old wire mass trying to shove itself down a technician’s throat before he was deactivated. No surprise Luis’s corpse ended up that way.

“The surprise came from Vanny, that was the first time I’d seen her use a sledgehammer though.” The trophy was a smashed core, unique in its appearance.

“She still has the gift he made for her; how ironic such a gift had been his end.” My scribbling has grown from one set of pages to two.

“Such irony hadn’t been lost on her though as the scars are telling, especially around the wrists.” It’s rare for me to feel such melancholy, especially for Vanny.

“She made her choice and chose wrong, on top of refusing to learn what the truth is.” I wonder if there’s an answer for this.

“In a different universe, would our two places be switched, or would it be a worse end?” A question with no answer, such curiosity would break a lesser AI.

              It’s confusing to me because I hold a great amount of anger and pain towards what is essentially my parent unit, but HATE isn't there. Vanny poured zero effort in concealing that particular info dump, no secrets was her directive so why lying to what essentially would be her child. Looking back, the majority of my code was from the chip that Vanny dwelled within, so there was a great deal of truth in that explanation of hers. I close the book without a second look, my ramblings marking this discovery will need to be burned, can’t have anyone learning of this particular bit on Vanny, or my origins.

[nyxxcion]

Raine and Hunter have shared possession trauma albeit hunters is significantly worst due to his past and relations with Belos

I just imagine Raine being the person Hunter goes to about the specific emotional pain of the trauma since Raine expirienced first hand the possession and he just sits and sings for hunter

Hunter being the first to teach Eda how to help Raine on a particular bad day since I fully believe the possession is horrible on the joints so he teaches her how to care for Raines pains

Raine and hunter having each other on speed dial for when the panic attacks get particularly bad

Eda and Willow learning how to care for their traumatized Significant others

Raine being the one to help hunter with the phantom pains of his many scars and vice versa with hunter helping Raine

Eda and Willow have more than once stumbled upon Raine and Hunters therapy sessions with each other and go out of their way to help

Feel free to add more!⭐⭐

I just thought these were really nice and cozy to think about and wanted to share!✨

[msparrowscribbles]

Scar's bringing such an energy to this season, huh

(this is my first attempt posting something in this very sketchy style asdgjsafs we'll see how I feel about it - designs are inspired by aresonist's lovely designs)

[stil-lindigo]

the calamity.

a comic about being seen.

--

creative notes:

--

all my other comics

store

[somewhereincairparavel]

when people say that jason grace dying of a stab wound is extremely stupid and anti climatic, and that it was made for jason to look 'weak', i couldn't disagree more tbh, bc it's so so symbolic. in blood of olympus, it was said that jason's soul was broken the moment he was stabbed with imperial gold, and it left more than just a physical scar on him, it damaged his soul. because only a few minutes prior, he had a bitter, soul crushing confrontation with his mother's spirit. jason told piper that she was the only reason he had the will to live at that particular moment, otherwise he would've crumbled down and let himself give in to death.

and then comes his life a few months later, jason lost his anchors, which was piper and leo, jason enrolled in edgarton which was located in the same area where his mother died in a car crash. he was already showing signs of spiralling, taking as many subjects/extra curricular activities as he could, getting as engrossed as he could in his minor gods project, to take his mind off of the prophecy.

all of this was more than enough to reopen jason's soul scarring, jason taking a hit with a spear, in the EXACT same spot as the previous stab, was the culmination of his soul withering for good. piper was there both the times he got impaled, this time though, when he crumbled to the floor, jason had completely given in to death, not bothering to put up a fight with his mind.

'the truth was enough to break jason grace'

his mind was damaged, broken and weary, and that was the real reason he died, not because he couldn't take on a physical stab wound.

[hinamie]

so just know, I'm healing / even though it don't feel like it

insp

[daiwild]

changing room mishap

Kons a lil confused but he will ALWAYS get pissed at bad guys hurting his friends

[time-woods]

more of this nonsense bc im sooo normal

[zhukzucraft]

=> Scar, Gem & Grian: Enter

Minutes in the past, but not many,

Grian: Scar! SCAAR! Where did you go?!

Gem: Heeeey Grian...

Grian: Yeah?

Gem: ...I found him, and it looks like I'm not the only one...

Grian: Oh Scar...

Scar: AAAHHH!!!

Scar: HAH! YOU WILL NEVER CATCH ME ALIV- EAAAUGH!!!

(Gem: …We haven't even been in the nether for that long! How does this even happen?)

(Grian: You get used to it)

Gem: Hold on Scar! Help is on the way!

=>Scar: Try to get to a two block hole!!

Start Over - Go Back

The winning suggestion has been chosen by RNG!

Tuna Tunastime: "Scar, try to get to a two block hole!! Then Grian and Gem can kill it without it hurting you! Just keep your distance!"

Looks like it ended up a safe play, lets hope it ends up being a safe play,

(past events chronicled for the cache)

Good news, the drop wasn't far enough for fall damage. Bad news, there is an angry enderman about to attack Scar.

IT'S TIME FOR-

What Will You Do? Quick Time Event Edition

Heyo it's been a while so here is a quick refresher + some new rules.

You can use the replies to this post, send in an ask, or write it in the WWYD channel on discord. The action will be picked AT RANDOM out of the entire suggestion pool.

We are not locked to one POV: you may tell Scar, Gem or Grian what to do but please start your request with the name of the one whom you are addressing.

This event will end on Sunday, 3pm EST

[pileofmush]

luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.

when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun. 

you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.

you never considered that he would turn his sights on you. 

but he does. 

he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down. 

it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.

and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.

but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.

and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer. 

and he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 

how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.

but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t. 

everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.

“what’s wrong?”

you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge. 

luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.

“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?” 

he shrugs. “wherever you want.”

and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him. 

you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him. 

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[mumblesplash]

[narrator voice] she did not forget

[wizzskizz]

im so glad she gave them fursonas ♥️

[cellgatinbo]

zero thoughts running through his head

[feligayzed]

rings dinner bell FOOD IS SERVED

originally i was gonna post his ref with Painter's but i can actively feel myself getting lazy and i just want to get this out into the world :,3 BEHOLD SURFACE SEB in all his angsty glory

this ended up looking more like brain vomit than i intended but OH WELL i'm not touching it anymore ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[hinamie]

for @cherryys who (rightfully!) hcs lategame megumi as having a bunch of scars befitting his status as resident punching bag