#addictions i’ve acquired on purpose:

[thompsonsubmachinegun]

to be fucking for real being drunk is so fucking fun and i might even become an alcoholic on purpose because i love being drunk and i love collecting addictions because i’m fucked in the head <3 substances are all i have and all i need <333 >:3

[milksockets]

why scan?

scanning is something i've done for probably about 12 years now (i'm ancient, for this site), with varying degrees of regularity, intensity, etc. it has ratcheted up since the dawn of 2023, though, which begs the question: why? why put so much time into what could not-wrongly be considered a passive activity, hunched over a piece of clunky machinery with the express purpose of preserving others' creations? the answers are several, and fascinating (not really).

i am a [sober] drug addict. anything i pursue, consume, create--more often than not--ends up taking on addictive qualities. i'll eat the same specific food item for a month, then never want to see, let alone taste it, again. i'll listen to one song on repeat for days until i'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than have it shuffle on and assault my ears. one of the reasons that my scanning has increased in volume recently is that i acquired library cards to the 3 nyc library systems: nypl, brooklyn, and queens. as soon as i was able to, i pillaged + plundered those fine centers of learning, leaving any given library with as many hefty scan-worthy books as i could [barely] carry. here, finally, was a *free* way of obtaining more + more + more visual media to consume.

2023 saw me get my first legal, full-time job. as such, my adjusting to that hellish reality resulted in a steep decline in my own personal creative output. collaging, writing, and rapping all fell to the wayside as i slowly acclimated to a life of work that almost everyone else my age has known for over a decade is generally unbearable + detrimental to the maintenance of outside pursuits. in times of famine within my own artistic harvest, scanning, archiving, and sharing others' work is a means of feeling as though i am still contributing to the global oeuvre.

there’s an element of losing my mental self in a series of physical motions that becomes almost automatic after some time. “zoning out” is not something endemic to my daily life; if anything, i’m almost always too zoned in. relief is necessary.  especially considering the shitshow this past year has been in terms of my personal life.

i am a product of capitalism’s cultivating a craving for constant consumption. 

it seems that visual content is only going to continue to get more + more uninspired. has everything been done? did social media ruin it all? in any case, i feel a need to document the past. to a degree, it’s my version of doomsday prepping. (god forbid books go extinct altogether.) 

i have always gravitated towards solitary activities. this topic could be a thesis in its own right.

i thrive on external validation. this reliance is something i’ve improved upon over the past several years, but it hasn’t been altogether extinguished. even though the materials i scan are not of my own creation, i nevertheless feel a vague pride in showcasing them. occasional appreciation thereof satisfies this fixation on others’ attention, albeit in a diluted form. 

i am fortunate to live in a city bursting to the gills with cultural institutions. i am also lucky enough to have some disposable income that can be directed toward fulfilling my ravenous desire for visual media. 

((i keep getting messages about the specifics of my scanner + "process":

i have a cheap ass hp envy 6055e and i just use the software it comes with.

there's nothing special or fancy happening here, and i could definitely invest in a better and/or a large format scanner, etc. but i really just don't care enough and it's not like i'm getting paid for this lmao))

[chaoticace2005]

I’ve seen a lot of people talking about how the exorcists look like demons, and while I do understand where the complaint is coming from I also wanted to talk about how them looking like that kind of supports the narrative.

I’m going to start this off by staying this is from a perspective looking at the narrative presented to us in the Hellaverse, not any specific religion because 1) I am an atheist who doesn’t have the knowledge or background for making any calls on that and 2) the canon hasn’t confirmed this adheres to a specific belief system. There’s Adam and Eve and Hell and Heaven and yes, but this show arguably works as a parody of all of that.

Now that that’s established, I want to bring up one of the main points in the show: the idea that those in Heaven and Hell aren’t that different. In Helluva we’re shown the experiences of hell-born, and we even see cherubs later on who seem to fulfill the parallel role of them in Heaven (with the IMP vs CHERUB fight.) We also know that Lucifer was an angel in this canon. So some of the characters with the most authority in those domains are from the same stock.

The main difference seems to be punishment. Lucifer was punished for his actions and was given those who were deemed “Sinners.” The Hell born seem to be just natives living there and many seem to be products of their environment. So while Sinners may be “bad” and Winners “good”, all those born in Heaven or Hell have no reason for being there.

Whether exorcists are brought to heaven or made there, there is still that view of superiority. The way Lute talks makes it clear she’d be willing to kill the hellborn if she could, despite them not having done anything to be there like the Sinners. It’s similar to how some people born into high economic status view those born into lower. It’s just luck of the draw but now you have access to different opportunities and that influences the way you view others. Those born in Heaven probably look at those born in Hell and argue that if hellborn aren’t bad, then why does Hell suck? Ignoring the fact that Hell is established for the purpose of containing Sinners, who often end up being more powerful that the majority of hellborn.

Even some of the Sinners likely fall into that issue where people who gave to endure harsher environments may have to resort to more extreme measures to get by, and then punishment for it just causes them to need to do even more because their conditions worsened. As seen with the rate of people who keep returning to prison. With Hell some may have fallen down this path (think of Angel, who was born into a crime family, it’s likely a lot easier to fall into drug addiction then when you have access and more things you’d like to forget, but drug addiction can be a slippery slope and the other stuff he needed to do to survive basically condemned him.) Obviously not all Sinners fall into this category and are just monstrous pieces of shit, but they likely isn’t the case for everyone.

Then, once you get to Hell it’s essentially a larger prison, except you aren’t separated and are given powers, causing some of the more malicious individuals to rise up and acquire power, making it even more of a nightmare for everyone else. This continues that cycle of having to do certain things to survive. Similar to have in jail that fear of getting hurt by some violent people make you align yourself with slightly less violent people. Except now in Hell there’s that added issue: there’s no escape.

(Also, Hell is a prison but you STILL have to pay rent and work to survive, so you really get the added stress of both worlds.)

Anyway, this whole cycle causes a similar effect to the growing class disparity we see in many countries. Those on top (Heaven) continue to have power while those lower have to deal with most of the burden. Reinforcing that belief in exorcists that Heaven is “good” and Hell is “bad” because they are unable to see the full picture. They just see it as “they blew their shot” without thinking of why that may be or considering the people who didn’t even have a choice being there— like how some people blame others in poverty for being that way because “they are lazy.” That’s not even remotely the full picture. But because certain things come easy for you it’s hard to understand why it can’t come easy for others.

Exorcists are then given the excuse and opportunity to kill others, people who they believe are lesser than them. And some take genuine joy out of it, yet they continue to see themselves as the “good guys” because that’s what they are and the others “deserve it.” And this shows how when some people are given the opportunity and reason to be assholes they’ll take it- millionaires don’t HAVE to exploit their employees, but they view it as being to their benefit and helping the bottom line.

So now, both exorcists and those in hell have reason and excuse to be violent, albeit for very different reasons. Yet because of this exorcists are still “good” and those in hell are “bad.” And this is largely because of the lack of consequences for their actions. Heaven reinforces their behavior, before episode 8 there was no push back from Hell, so they could continue to use their reasoning as an excuse to kill others.

They’re blind and don’t see it though. They only see the world from one perspective, which is ironic given the exorcist mask is missing an eye. They can put masks on and hurt others and then take them off without dealing with the consequences. They “go down” to the level of the very people they despise and then write it all off, because they have the comfort of taking their masks off at the end. Of having a choice.

It’s also interesting how their masks don’t resemble sinners but Hellborn. Which almost reminds me of mocking another’s culture while actively hurting them. They may not be able to physically hurt hellborn, but they’re still viewed through the same lens as Sinners. They’re still “bad.” So exorcists can don caricatures of their appearances, go around “pretending” to be them by committing violent acts, and when they’re done they can take it off. As I’m writing this I’m now thinking about how in the past black-face has been used to reinforce racist stereotypes, making racist caricatures.

This also camouflage in a way, maybe they were previously asked to “fit in” before things got all crazy, and when told to look for “demon disguises” they all fall back onto the stereotype and dressed up like that.

The usage of exorcists wearing demon-looking masks could be them both “playing bad” while also clearly showing the fact that at the core people aren’t so different. For as much as they hate those in hell, they’re just as likely to fall into the same traps and patterns as them.

Having written this all now, I wanted to bring up Vaggie. Vaggie who took her exorcist mask off to show sympathy for someone only to be punished and marked with an “X” that mirrors her mask. Vaggie who previously was part of the “elite”, where she could forgo consequences until she couldn’t for not following them and was cast out, being permanently marked. Vaggie, who was previously allowed given the gift to “play bad” due to being in Heaven, but when she was cast out “playing bad” wasn’t an option anymore. Taking off her mask can’t get rid of mistakes anymore, and now she has to display them for the world to see.

I don’t know if the “X” was intentional on her part or irony, but if she did choose it it could also be her recognizing her role in the system. Her realizing she can’t go back and using the “X” to remind her of what she’s done. Because she doesn’t have the luxury of pretending she’s a good person anymore— she doesn’t want to forget.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: HALO: A MasterChief Collection: Deception {12}

Master Chief Pablo x Sergeant Reader

Warning: Mild cursing, Plot, Angst, Violence, Slightly unhinged John, Creative Liberties Taken, Non-Canon Material,

Words: 2.8k

Summary: You are part of the mighty SPARTANS as a sergeant and a pretty badass addition to the team at that. Everything is different. You’re different. Master Chief is different and Halsey has taken notice. Under the guise of John needing “assistance” the rules of engagement have changed. Cortana is a part of him now. What does that mean for you and him? Is this the end?

Note I: AND WE ARE BACK!!!!

Note: II Guess who needs more fics? Master Chief!!! I’ve decided to make a Master Chief collection of standalone one-shots. They all can be read separately to understand, but can also be read in sequence. I will put a number on them so anyone who is interested in reading in sequence can, but again not necessary. This might be an acquired taste, but it’s Pablo as Master Chief forever and always around these parts.  Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread AT ALL***

~~~~~~~~~

Previous: On Your Six*** | Feel Something | A Night Off | Apex Predators | Truth Be Told | Confess | Unto Dawn*** | Learn Me, Learn You*** | Conceal | Let Me Help**  | Cortana**

-John-

“Who are you loyal to, Cortana?”

It was something he’d asked out of the blue. Something he’d been pondering for a full 2 weeks now. It had been two weeks from hell. Before with the pellet, he didn’t know what he was missing. He didn’t know any better than to know that cold, aloofness with one thought in mind of a better Reach and better future for the human race was no way to live. He didn’t realize he was missing out on so much more, like joy, peace, fear, pleasure, and awe. He didn’t know how beautiful the sunset was before, or how warm the sunrises were. He didn’t understand that fear wasn’t a complete weakness but that it could make you stronger. He didn’t comprehend that having something to lose made him better. He also didn’t know that the touch of a kind hand, the graze of soft lips, and the heat of one body could be so addictive.

Yeah, the two weeks since he’d made the call to stay away from you had been a living hell. He'd lived through many hells before, but this was different. He struggled in ways he’d never before. Now everything wasn’t monotonous. He had to put real thought into every move, every word, every call because every single instinct he had was now rewired for one purpose. You. And that was a major problem. If anyone found out he was different, they’d find out about you and Gods only knew what would happen next.

He'd learned quite a bit more about Halsey and her motives for implanting Cortana in his head. He’d also uncovered more and more memories from his time as a child before he’d come to Reach. He’d thought she was his savior--his friend, but now he saw she may very well be the enemy. When he came face to face with that, the fear that had become a new sensation for him gripped him forcefully. He could handle Halsey himself and for himself, but you were his priority. He didn’t want any harm coming to you and vowed he’d protect you at all costs. Hell, he'd start a war if it meant keeping you safe and with him.

“I don’t understand the question, John. Please clarify.”

“It’s a simple inquiry, Cortana. Who—are—you—loyal—to?”

“Well--,” Cortana began before he cut her off.

“Is it Halsey, the UNSC, or me?”

Cortana didn’t answer immediately, and he wondered what her response would be. Over the last two weeks he’d been spending away from you, he’d been trying to learn more about the AI that was now a part of him. He learned she was always there, always listening, watching, and learning. She’d learned his habits, preferences, and speech patterns in days and had implemented her own ways to connect with him. She’d integrated her AI knowledge with his own synapses to make nominal tasks easier, faster, and better. Halsey had said she was meant to make him better and while he knew that was only half the reason for her creation, she hadn’t lied there.

“I was not aware there was a separation between those three options. Is Halsey not part of the UNSC? Did she not make you using UNSC tech and money? Does that not make you part of the UNSC as well? I am afraid I do not understand your question.”

“You’re being obtuse on purpose.”

That was when she appeared. She stood before him with a neutral expression on her face.

“I know the reason you were implanted inside my head. I know you are a means to an end for Halsey and that end is power and control and I know because you’re far more intelligent than normal humans that you understand that.”

He saw that she did. Halsey had implemented this being with free thought and evolutionary processes.

“I know you’ve been watching everything I do and reporting back to her.”

“John--,” Cortana began.

Again he cut her off. “Don’t insult my intelligence with a lie. It was after all what you were implanted to do.”

“I was joined with you to make you better.”

“And you are making me better but that doesn’t negate your primary objective.”

A long silence stretched as she computed the multiple ways this conversation could go. He knew she thought she was so careful that he hadn’t known when she was lagging with her responses that she was playing informer. He wondered just what she was feeding back to Halsey especially since he’d been so careful. He’d tapped into every innate programming from the pellet he’d lived with since he was a child, given himself over to the robotic existence he’d once lived, he’d even gone as far as to be harder and colder with you than anyone else.

Every instinct in him had to be suppressed in order to put on the show for Cortana so she would report to Halsey that everything was status quo.

“You knew,” Cortana dejectedly stated.

“Of course I knew.”

“And you let me report everything you wanted me to. You let me see what you wanted.”

“And they say AI is the future. If I could deceive you what makes you think Halsey is not as well?”

Cortana looked away and that was his clue that she had her own doubts about Halsey’s true motives and her real objectives with not only him but putting her inside of his head.

“So I ask again. Who are you loyal to?”

“I was created by Dr. Halsey.”

“And she created you with the capacity to know right from wrong. Have you any doubts of her own judgement between right and wrong especially with everything you’ve helped me unlock?”

Cortana’s eyes shifted from his and he saw her wavering.

“Tell you what. I have a way to test her, so the truth comes out.”

“John I cannot go against my creator.”

“Even if that creator has lied and does not have the fate of the human race in mind? She stole me from my family, brought me here and lied about it my entire life.”

“There has to be an explanation,” Cortana objected. “If she were against you once I told her that your pellet was gone she would have altered course and found a way to keep you compliant. She did not.”

Jackpot, he thought. He knew she’d told her that much. He scoffed because although she knew his pellet was gone she hadn’t done anything to him for one reason and one reason alone.

“Because I am the key to the keystones. I am the only path to what could be the greatest weapon in this fight between the races. I am the key to her getting everything she wants—more power and control. If those keystones fall into her hands you know things will be bad.”

Cortana stared at him as she connected the dots.

“Why would she do anything to me when she still needs me?”

Long moments passed in silence until a few minutes had went by.

“What would you have me do?”

“Play along, simple as that.”

Cortana nodded slowly and a plan formulated in his head. He’d learn firsthand just where her loyalties lay soon enough. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found they were against him.

~~~~~~~

As he walked into the mess hall he was half dreading it and half looking forward to it. He knew you would be sitting at the usual table between Kai and Miranda with Vannak and Riz on the other side of the table. Normally before the removal of the pellet, he’d sit on the other side of you while Kai was on one. Now that Miranda had taken a liking to interacting with you and Kai his place had been taken. Since his distancing himself from you, he’d skipped meals in the mess. They were too complex. If he wasn’t busy the new rewired instincts took over and he found it easier to give himself away. Tonight he could not resist the need to be near you.

Once he’d gotten his tray he made his way toward the table. It was Miranda who’d seen him first, then Kai and Vannak and Riz.

“Master chief,” Vannak said standing.

“At ease.”

You’d been smiling before his arrival but now the smile had somewhat faded and his heart sunk.

“Your heartrate just elevated Master chief, is everything all right?”

He ignored Cortana’s voice in his head then took a seat across from you. Your eyes dropped back to your tray where you took up your fork and pushed the food around the surface.

“Either you’d been living it up as Halsey’s lapdog or the great Master chief doesn’t need food anymore,” Kai teased.

Unlike him or even you for that matter Kai hadn’t seen a reason to pretend as if she didn’t feel the best she’d ever felt. She didn’t care if her personality seemed drastically different, didn’t care if it looked suspicious for her to be accepting wagers and bets with the other soldiers, or even that her hair had been dyed slightly pink. He envied her. He wished he could be as carefree about it as she had been. With that thought, his eyes slipped back to you.

You were steadily avoiding him. He wondered if this was as hard for you as it was for him. Did you toss and turn at night unable to find a comfortable position because he wasn’t beside you? Did you stare out to space at any given moment thinking about the times you spent together? Did you miss him the way he missed you? Did you crave his presence as he did yours? Did you wander around only to find yourself in front of his door but unable to knock?

“The keystones have been taking up a lot of my time,” he lied.

“Any new revelations there?”

He met Miranda’s curious eyes and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I’m sure the Covenant is not just sitting around waiting. Why are we?”

Vannak sounded annoyed and he understood. This coming war over these keystones was dangerous and sitting idly by was not a good call.

“I feel like something big is coming,” Miranda began, “Something we may not be prepared for and it makes me wonder who will save us all?”

It was then you raised your head and looked at Miranda.

“Say that again.”

“Uh—who—who will save us all?”

You looked as if you’d seen a Covenant soldier across the mess then your face went blank as if you’d disappeared in a haze of thought.

“Y/N?”

You shook your head then went back to your food. “Who will save us all,” you mumbled under your breath.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, wanted to establish this connection between you that he felt had been severely damaged, but he couldn’t. The anger from that shot through him like an electric shock and he bolted up then stomped out of the mess. He could feel the eyes of those around him trailing where he went. He hated this and was tired of it. The time was now. He had to know who was with him and was against him because he needed you and felt you needed him just as much.

As he stalked to the ship he knew Halsey was currently on, he tried to contain his anger so it wouldn’t interfere with his plan. This stunt could possibly get him court-martialed and decommissioned. He knew it was risky, but he also knew he was the UNSC. He slipped inside and saw Halsey inside flipping through notes and files completely oblivious to his arrival then reached the top of the door, pulled down the compartment, and yanked out the fuse cord which he knew supplied power, and oxygen to the room. He then stabbed a piece of metal tubing into the crack of the door, further preventing the override procedures that Halsey would try to initiate from taking effect.

That was when Cortana appeared.

“What’s going on John?”

“Thought you knew everything.”

She looked impassive so he went on to question her about her knowledge of Roman Quinn, the engineer of the ship he and Halsey were currently on. As she rattled off facts about the man who’d revolutionized the ships that were currently used throughout the UNSC, he went about adjusting parameters in the computers and walls. As Cortana gave a detailed lesson, Halsey called his name asking him time and time again what was happening.

He ignored them both.

“Why did you lock Dr. Halsey in her lab?”

Ignoring her again he dropped a piece of his reasoning. “Quinn knew that no matter how advanced, something could go bad and he built fail-safes into all his designs. All his designs except one. The UV Decontamination system.”

He sealed his fate and initiated the beginning of his game and test as he walked back to the door to where Halsey was panicking.

“John!”

He finished his lesson on Roman Quinn by telling where he failed and how simple it was to not fail. Cortana slowly understood then.

“You’re not going to--.”

He smirked, then went to watch the show. Halsey buzzed around the room, trying her best to initiate an override to all he’d done, but no matter which side of the room she went there was no override. He slowly watched her calm, reserved, genius façade fall. He watched the woman who’d been a mastermind of so many things throughout the years feel the inevitability of consequences. He watched her slowly come to the realization that he saw her—completely and now she was going to see him. He was not to be trifled with nor underestimated.

“Nope,” he said popping the “p” in the word. “I feel great!”

“You can’t do this you’re not thinking clearly. You’re overworked, tired--.”

“You don’t understand what will happen if the systems fail with her in there,” Cortana reasoned.

“Oh, but I do. She will receive a very large dose of radiation,” he said matter of factly as f it didn't matter to him one way or another.

He went closer to the door and explained Quinn’s untimely death and the very bloody aftermath.

“John! Open the door right now!”

He glared at Halsey but was unmoving even face to face with her distress. Halsey looked at Cortana.

“Open the door, Cortana.”

“I can’t,” the AI said.

He scoffed. “Make me.”

Cortana stared at him, and he could tell she was going through the possibilities and their repercussions.

“You’re my fail-safe right?”

“I am not. It’s not true. You have to open it.”

“John please,” Halsey begged as she banged on the door.

“She’s been lying my entire life. You know this. You’ve seen it. You’ve noted her lies and infalicies with her thinking. She put you inside my head to keep me in line because she knew once I found out the whole truth I would no longer be under her control, no longer be her obedient little soilder. She put you in here to control me. So do it!”

His shout echoed throughout the ship.

“I can’t. All I can do is overload your neural pathways and put you in a stasis that is temporary. I can’t make you do anything. I can’t control you, nor would I want to. I understand you are angry at Dr. Halsey and no longer trust her.”

“You understand nothing! Do it!”

“I can’t.”

The numbers on the door decreased rounding down to ten but still he didn’t budge.

“Do it!”

“She will die in seconds. John please!”

Halsey’s screams were louder now as her death drew nearer and nearer. Cortana’s features never wavered.

“I’m sorry for stealing you from your family. I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for trying to control you your entire life,” Halsey screamed as tears rolled down her cheeks.

He stared her down finally face to face with her lies. She’d finally admitted them. Finally laid those cards out.

“John please.”

The numbers fell to zero and the hiss of the vent in the room began. He had his answers and proof of loyalty. Freeing the door, he allowed it to open then yanked Halsey out in the nick of time before sealing the room again. Halsey lay there panting before she turned over and looked up at him with something he’d never seen from her. Fear.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He clenched his jaw as he stared down at her. This woman was not his friend nor his savior. He knew that now.

“The time for I’m sorries are long gone. They mean nothing to me now.”

With that he walked past her leaving her on the cold steel floor. No doubt Aldon would be along to pick up the pieces. For now, she knew where she stood with him. They were finally both seeing each other as they truly were.

“Who are you loyal to?”

She didn’t appear but she replied. “To you John. I am loyal to you.”

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

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[slowpoke272]

“caffeine” by michael pollan

finished: july 24, 2023

this isn’t really a “book” so much as it is an informal lecture regarding caffeine, its effects on the human body, and its spread and chokehold in our society. it’s another one of those audible exclusives that’s free for any audible subscriber, so i figured i would give it a shot. i previously read “the botany of desire” by michael pollan about a decade ago in college and found his work to be truly captivating, despite it being nonfiction.

i feel like you have to take michael pollan with a grain of salt. though he never attempts to portray himself as a scientist, it kind of feels like watching a documentary when he informs you of all the science and research he’s done on a subject. and look, scientifically speaking, of course i would rather only consume foods that nourish my body best, and of course i would rather not ever have to consume animal products and contribute to the horrendous environmental factors of the meat-production industry. none of these were my ideas but i’m born into this world like anyone else. i do like being informed, but i don’t know if i’m willing to take any of this knowledge to action.

such was very much the case with “caffeine.” it’s fine, i knew what to expect and i am quite aware of my dependency on caffeine and the hypocrisy of that very addiction. i’m fine with it. i am receptive to learning about caffeine’s effects on sleep, and as i’m in a journey to acquire better quality sleep since my life depends on it, i’ll take this into consideration should all other avenues of intervention and treatment fail. i’ve said previously and i still feel very strongly that if my life depended on me quitting caffeine, i could do it (though i’m aware of how difficult it would be) but i would be a decaf coffee drinker, because coffee means that much to me on a daily basis. no, i’m not someone who needs coffee the moment i’m awake, but i do need it at some point throughout the day, whenever i get around to it. i’m at peace with the disposition i find myself in with caffeine and am aware that changes would occur to my brain and body that would without a doubt be positive in the long-term. however, i’m an addict just like millions and billions of others, and if i were to quit caffeine i know without a doubt i would eventually bring back nicotine, which had a negative effect on my brain chemistry that i wasn’t comfortable with. so this is the lesser of several evils to me.

with that said, michael pollan did do his research and this is a concise history of caffeine’s history with humanity. as pollan points out at the conclusion, the fact that we’re even addressing caffeine on a global scale proves its resilience and perseverance and is quite an astonishing feat. still, as a book there is nothing here you can’t find elsewhere and i lean away from this work as i feel the author’s personal feelings are at play, but it works for educational purposes. i just wouldn’t take this too seriously.

...maybe that’s the caffeine talking.

rating: 5/10 thought it was fine, not bad but not something i would re-visit or recommend

[lorenfangor]

there’s not a lot of conversation that I’ve seen about the Yeerks as foils to the Andalites but I honestly find it fascinating to examine. they’re both communal, herd/family-based species who have access to an ability that grants them the chance to experience life as something else? but the ways they use those things are very different 

like

Yeerks: strong species identity, confirmed indoctrination from birth via propaganda (#19), will often go against rules and regulations for their own self-serving purposes, don’t value the lives of their fellow Yeerks enough for preserving those lives to meaningfully stand in the way of advancing their own goals or preserving their own lives (as seen in Visser, #2, #16) // Andalites: strong species identity, no indication of any indoctrination via propaganda, will often go against rules and regulations based on their own moral codes and what they personally think is the right thing to do (#1, #18, #38), value the lives of their fellow Andalites to the point that even a mercy kill is abhorrent (#8)

Elfangor refuses to carry out Alloran’s direct order because he feels it’s so immoral that carrying it out would be unforgivable // Edriss refuses to carry out a direct order because she doesn’t want to be demoted

Yeerks: it’s an open secret that everyone who advances in their ranks has done terrible things (Visser) and a full memory dump of any higher-up would reveal a lot of Yeerk law violations; every Yeerk under the Vissers knows that they’ll only get ahead by cutthroat tactics // Andalites: if you commit a war crime, even a war crime mandated by the high command, you forfeit your ability to advance (TAC, HBC) and you might get written off as a legally dead scapegoat (#38); war crimes still happen and are still sanctioned in the name of victory, but their public perception is very different

Yeerks: flat-out host addicts, hooked on sensation and novelty, naturally content and happy in the Pool in their natural state (#19, #29) but obsessed with new experiences to a degree that overwhelms their base instincts (HBC, Visser) // Andalites: fond of human morph and the sense of taste but not so hooked on it that they can’t stop, truly happy in their own bodies, not propelled to acquire new morphs for the sake of new sensory experiences

Yeerks: accept the deaths of low-ranking underlings and their hosts as a necessary aspect of dealing with a competent leader (#15, every time Esplin 9466 cuts somebody’s head off or kills them) // Andalites: are horrified when someone higher up starts murdering or plotting to murder those underneath them in the chain of command (#18)

Yeerks: on the whole see no problem with taking sapient hosts and encourage each other and themselves to see hosts as livestock who they’re evolutionarily above, as a society have few problems with impersonating someone else or taking their life over // Andalites: prefer strongly to be in their own identities and bodies, will morph sapient individuals for the sake of espionage but won’t steal their identities or their lives, make use of a Frolis maneuver to ensure that long-term morphs are new individuals rather than direct copies of someone else

[maxwell-grant]

Would you consider Hugo Strange a pulp villain?

Yes. And I would argue that he didn't really stop being one even after his revival.

"Professor Hugo Strange, the most dangerous man in the world! Scientist, philosopher and a criminal genius - little is known of him, yet this man is undoubtly the greatest organizer of crime in the world! - Bruce Wayne, Detective Comics #36

Hugo Strange was created with the intention of being Batman's arch-enemy right from the start, introduced as such by Bruce when he figures out he's responsible for the G-man assassination, pretty explicitly intended to be Batman's Moriarty and with even an equivalent demise. He was big enough to tower over his henchmen and fistfight Batman, he had a uniquely deformed skull, he was both a charismatic but threatening crimelord as well as a mad scientist plotting to TAKE OVER THE WORLD, and I've heard before the argument that the Monster Men were taken from a Doc Savage novel released earlier the same year called The World's Fair Goblin that revolves around a giant mutated man doing crimes under command by the story's villain

That poor devil, Maximus, was a Fair visitor himself, once. He was given injections of thyroxine and adrenalin—and changed rapidly into a pituitary giant. But, in the experiment, his will power was destroyed. Now he only follows the directions of that masked devil who has him hypnotized

He said, "The Man of Tomorrow stuff was merely publicity to draw the Fair crowds—and a shield to cover your own experiments. But the masked surgeon cashed in on it. Obviously he is mad enough to really believe a superman can be created." - The World's Fair Goblin

(Considering Lester Dent had taken potshots at Superman explicitly in "Whisker of Hercules", it's not unlikely that this is an explicit reference)

Although there's really no overlap in the stories besides that, as The World's Fair Goblin only had one giant where as Hugo mutated a couple dozen mentally ill patients to create monsters and then used them to go on mass murdering rampages, because Batman has always been over-the-top. But, yeah, original form Hugo was a pretty cut and dry pulp villain, like most of Batman's villains who debuted prior to 1940. Which is part of why he only had about 3 appearences before they killed him off.

By this point, Batman was in the process of moving away from his pulp knock-off origins into more of his own character, with the introduction of Robin and Dick Tracy cartoon villains that would set the tone for the rest of Batman in the Golden Age, and with the debut of Joker and Catwoman in Batman #1, Hugo was already obsolete as an arch-enemy, and was killed off the following appearence.

Of course, if you know Hugo Strange, you likely already know this, and that he was then revived in the 70s by Marshall Rogers with a brilliant take that stuck to the character's origins as a brilliant crimelord and scientific genius, but also added to him a specifically twisted psychological bent of being obsessed with Batman and becoming Batman, a villain of unshakeable will and even a twisted sense of honor and ethics, refusing to divulge Batman's secret identity even while beaten to death.

And from that moment onwards Hugo would go on to have some of the most consistently brilliant appearences out of any Batman villain (at least until the 2010s) and would secure himself as a mainstay, albeit a very obscure one, figure of Batman, the kind of villain whose plots can range from Born Again-esque subtle destructions of a person's life to a rampage of mutant kaijus on downtown Gotham, and like many of the best Batman villains, it all comes back to a central obsession and psychological edge upon Batman, and the weaponizing and destruction of anything that stands in his way.

You could argue Hugo Strange used to be a cut and dry pulp villain who was eventually reimagined as a Batman Villain, and it would even be somewhat fitting of his in-universe trajectory as a man who started out a career as a figure of prestige and respect, effortlessly able to blend in society, until his repeated encounters with Batman and, most importantly, his gradually increasing obsession with becoming Batman, gradually destroyed him until he's no longer the one ruling the madhouse, but instead trapped in it.

But the reason why I'd argue Hugo Strange is still a Pulp Villain is because his reinventions didn't shed away what he used to be, they merely returned him to his true origins. Because Hugo, you see, is not just a Mad Scientist or Mad Psychologist, Batman's got those by the dozens. Hugo is of a particularly nasty kind of Pulp Villain, who came to existence around the same time as the Mad Scientist if not slightly earlier, an archetype Jess Nevins has named The Evil Surgeon

Medicine has arguably thrown up more serial killers than all the other professions put together, with nursing a close second - Herbert Kinnel, former chairman of the British Medical Association

The Evil Surgeon came to existence as a pop culture archetype in the late 19th century, as the result of serial killers like Jack the Ripper and H.H Holmes making the news, with Doctor Quartz from Nick Carter being first and foremost among these, as the main arch-enemy of the most published character worldwide at the time.

He would be followed years later by H.G Wells's Doctor Moreau, and the likes of Dr Caresco and Professor Tornada, the stars of novels created by André Couvreur, who was himself a medical doctor and used these novels to both condemn the characters as well as give serious consideration to the ideas they explored, and depicted Dr Caresco's over-the-top exploits harkening back to stories about Marquis de Sade (the origin of the term "sadist"). These would be followed by characters like Grigorii Trirodov, Dr Cornelius Kramm, Dr Gogol from Mad Love, currently the most famous example of this seems to be Hannibal Lecter. And Hugo has been operating much more along the lines of those characters in the last decades, than the typical mad scientists he was once designed in reference to.

Of course there's a massive overlap between the two and room to dispute whether they even constitute separate archetypes, they practically came to existence together following the footsteps of Victor Frankenstein, who really isn't a true example of a Mad Scientist in the original novel, and wasn't even a real doctor, but Frankenstein's reputation undeniably is the oldest cultural touchstone we can point to as an influence in the archetype, even if said archetype would only truly take form in pulp magazines and serials.

What I'd argue defines the Evil Surgeon as an archetype specifically, is that they are specifically centered around the violation and destruction of the human body and function more as murderers with budgets, than supervillains in labcoats. Mad Scientists are generally more centered around plots closer to sci-fi/fantasy inventions like sentient robots and immortality potions used for large scale global domination, where as Evil Surgeons are more preoccupied with wielding psychology and torture and criminal resources to get away with destroying minds on more individual scales, or turning cities into slaughterhouses for them to work in.

They aren't quite full blown slasher villains, like Zsasz or Professor Pyg, instead they usually tend to be quite good at passing off as respectable, mentally sound figures of moral standing, and usually possess a sense of purpose towards their work, a goal they are working for by piling corpses atop each other and moving resources to achieve, even if said goal is a purely selfish fulfillment of their own desires. It's quite common for these characters to acquire large bases for them to operate in, even islands specifically.

In Caresco Surhomme, Caresco has taken control of the Pacific island of Eucrasia. Caresco applies his surgical methods to the inhabitants of the island, altering them to better do their jobs. The captain of the plane which brings outsiders to Eucrasia is a limbless trunk with telescopic vision. Even the island itself is in the shape of a human body. The natives of Eucrasia are addicted to various sensual pleasures and generally submit to Caresco’s rule, for fear that he will castrate them or worse.

On Eucrasia, Caresco makes use of “omnium,” a mysterious and unexplained power source, to create: a machine capable of stripping the years from human bodies and reversing the aging process, a fast underground train system, food pills, omnium-powered diving suits, and so on. Caresco is given to such things as collecting the spleens of all those he operates on - Jess Nevins, The Encyclopedia of Pulp Heroes

So, yes, I absolutely would argue Hugo Strange is still a Pulp Villain. Pulp villains do come in many different forms other than the Fu Manchus and Fantomases that are most commonly imitated, pulp was the breeding ground of the supervillain as a concept after all, where they got to star in their own magazines time and time again. Hugo started off as a fairly generic one, and when he's written poorly, he tends to be brought onboard of a story purely because it calls for a mad scientist.

But Strange came back from death as something much, much worse than just a crimelord and mad scientist, a much more rare and much nastier type of villain that, much like Hugo himself, may lie dormant, but refuses to stay dead for long.

"Quincy. My servant. My friend," Hugo said. "We don't have much time."

Quincy was crying again, with joy. "How, master, how did you-?"

The therapy, Quincy realized. The hypnosis. The drugs.

"Stay with me master, please!" Quincy tried to grab hold a phantom hand.

"I cannot." Strange said, looking benevolently down at Quincy, stroking his hair with a touch the prisoner couldn't feel. "But there is one last service you can perform me."

"Anything, Hugo, please."

"First, remove the sheet from your bed, Quincy. And tie it to the light-fixture on the ceiling."

[lizzy-frizzle]

I’m going to start this by saying, I have bias. Everyone does. I do not intend for this to come off as “the thing you like is bad”, but moreso “the corporation that controls the thing you like is manipulative”.

My background; I am a 26 year old trans mom, I have a history with addiction, particularly gambling, and spend most of my time playing video games. I have gone to college for about 3 years for my psychology degree, and while I do not have my degree, I have been studying psychology for roughly 12 years. This is to say, my views will reflect this background. Just because I present this information like I do, does not inherently mean I’m right, though it also doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Try to view things with a critical mind, and know that most topics have nuance.

Ok, so lootboxes, booster packs, gacha games, all of these are gambling. This is not really an argument. You are putting money into a service of sorts, and receiving a randomized result. Be that a fancy new gun, that same boring legendary you have 5 of, or that final hero you’ve been trying to collect. You don’t know the outcome before you give your money. As defined by the merriam-webster dictionary: “Gambling; the practice of risking money or other stakes in a game or bet”

You are risking your money in not getting an item you want. There are ways this is handled acceptably, and ways this is handled poorly. Gambling is also illegal to people under 21 in a lot of places, but places online aren’t quick to tell you why. I don’t have any sources because every source requires a paywall to get any information, but pulling from my own personal experience and what I learned in college, it’s because children are very impressionable. I say “I like pokemon” and suddenly my 2-year old can’t go anywhere without her pikachu. I remember distinctly playing poker with my mom and her friends when I was 12. When you normalize gambling, what it does is lower the risk aversion of gambling. You are less likely to see a threat in playing that card game, because when you are that young you have no concept of money. You don’t know what a dollar is, so why not throw it away so you can have fun. This is...I hesitate to call it fine, but it’s mostly harmless. The issue is with children and their lack of knowledge of money. When I grew up and got a job, it’s a lot harder to tell my brain, “hey, don’t spend that money, you won’t get it back and you won’t get what you want.” Because my brain just acknowledges the potential for what I want. I want to buy the booster pack so I can have the potential to get that masterpiece misty rainforest. I want to buy that diamond pack so I have the chance to get the cute hero. I want to buy that lootbox so I can get the battle rifle that does a cool effect. These are harmless concepts, but very dangerous.

Make no mistake, companies know how psychology works, and will use it to their advantage. MatPat from game theory states that companies have even go so far as to have systems in place that change the odds as you’re losing, and monitor your skill level to put you up against harder opponents, to see the better weapons and go, “Oh I want that!” and entice you to buy more lootboxes. As it turns out I found an article covering what he was talking about, Activision had actually acquired a patent to arrange matchmaking to do just that [x], and the article says it’s not in place, but my trust in companies is not high enough to actually believe them.(honestly, matpat made a 2-part video series about lootboxes, and I’d recommend watching them)

So, companies are trying to manipulate you to buy more gambling products. There’s proof of it. It’s also more blatantly obvious in games like Magic the Gathering, where they release fancier versions of cards at rarer probabilities. To better explain it, from a collector’s standpoint, you want the fancy card cause it has value, it has value because it’s rare, rarer than the other versions, so if you’re on the lower end of the income ladder you buy a pack, or two. After all, you could get lucky and get it. On the higher end of the income ladder, you buy the card outright and hoard it. Maybe sell it off later if you notice the price goes down. From a player perspective, you see a card is being used by tournament players, you want to win more games, so you want those cards, which encourages you to buy products and try to get those cards. That’s predatory behavior. It’s predatory from the company’s perspective because that poor person might not be able to afford the card outright, but $5-$10 isn’t much, plus they always entice you with that Chance. They also further this desire for the cards by making it limited runs, such as the secret lair packs, if there’s a low amount purchased and it’s made to order, or worse, if they limit the order capabilities themselves, that drives up the value, and provides further incentive to buy the cards and packs. This not only creates an impossible barrier between the poor and the rich, but also heavily encourages people buy their gambling pack than people would have in other conditions.

For the record, I love magic the gathering, I’m not saying the game itself is bad, this is just a VERY predatory marketing tactic.

Let’s switch gears. Gacha games. I play AFKArena, because like I said, I have a gambling addiction and cannot stop myself. In AFKArena, you collect heroes, and battle with them in various ways. If you collect more of similar heroes you can rank them up. If I’m to believe what I’ve heard, it sounds like this is pretty common for gacha games. So what makes it bad. In AFKArena you use diamonds to summon heroes, now, you can acquire diamonds by beating specific story chapters, logging in every day, random limited time events, or paying for them with real money. AFKArena hero drops don’t seem that bad compared to the free diamond amount they dish out, which has resulted in me not spending all that much money on it, all things considered ($20 over 2 years). I believe that for a mobile game like this, that’s fair. I get way more enjoyment out of the game than I do most $60 games, so it balances out. However, this isn’t the case for every gacha game, and my trust in companies, as previously stated, is very low. The issue lies in them making the rates for good heroes so low that you HAVE to spend money on the game to really get over a roadblock of sorts. I do think that there is this issue in my game and I just didn’t notice it, someone with a lower tolerance or patience might absolutely have the incentive to drop hundreds of dollars on the game over a month. There are people of all different flavours, and it’s important to keep that in mind when discussing these topics, just because a marketing technique doesn’t work on you, does not mean it doesn’t work on anyone. After all, they have those $100 packs for a reason, you might not be that reason but someone is. That’s predatory.

I feel like I’ve gotten off track, let’s get back on the rails. Where was...gambling...predatory…ah, kids. So my biggest issue, is that Magic the Gathering is marketed towards 13 year olds. Not directly, but the packs say 13+. AFKArena and any mobile game for that matter, can be downloaded by anyone with a phone for free, with minimal mention that there’s microtransactions. AAA title games like Destiny 2, Overwatch, Fortnite, etc. are probably the worst offenders. A kid spent $16,000 of his parents money on fortnite in-game purchases, and that’s not the only time this has happened [x] [x] . More often than not, what happens is, the kid wants to play a video game, like halo on xbox, or destiny, or something, they ask their mom for their credit card, and the system saves it. I mentioned before that kids do not have a concept of money or its value, so giving kids unlimited access to the credit card is going to result in this kind of thing happening. I’m not blaming the parents for not being hypervigilant, sometimes you are really busy, or disabled, or whatever the reason, and you don’t notice the system just saved your card. I’m not blaming the kids cause their brains are literally underdeveloped. I blame the corporations, because they make the process as easy as possible to prey on kids and people with gambling addictions. (as a personal anecdote, I found that if I want a magic card in MtG:O, I’m way less likely to try and buy it if I have to get up and get my card, I’d recommend not saving your card if you suffer from gambling/addiction problems)

So after all of this evidence, how can anyone still view these things as anything but predatory? The answer is simple. You’re told they aren’t. Businesses spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on really good marketing, and public relations. I tried to google why gambling is illegal for people under 21, and got nothing, I got a couple forums asking the question, and a couple religious sites saying it’ll make them degenerates. I try looking up sources to prove the psychology behind these concepts, but they are locked behind paywall after paywall after paywall. Businesses and capitalism has made it so incredibly hard to discover the truth and get information you need, and it’s on purpose. They want you to trust that that booster pack is a good idea. They want you to spend money on lootboxes (look at all the youtubers that shill out for raid shadow legends, or other gambling games to their super young fanbase [x]). They want you to lower your guard and go, “well, it’s a video game, how can it be predatory?” “it’s a card game with cute creatures on it, surely it’s not that bad”

But it is. So why did I make this post? I dunno, my brain really latched onto the topic, I see so many people enjoying gacha games, but I’m worried that it’s going to ruin lives...I just want everyone to be informed and critical of what is going on.

[bookwyrminspiration]

thoughts on the potential of each of sophie's abilities? how would you develop them if you had control of the story?

okay okay okay! so! this goes with the whole "telepathy but rewrite someone" post i made earlier, but because I've already talked about that i'll try to focus on her other abilities instead

teleporting: Sophie has the ability to be go anywhere in the world above ground, granted she's seen a picture of it. The entire fucking world. That's big! In canon it's purpose was mostly shock factor--woah, weird elf girl was based on a horse and has a brand new ability! And since then, it's just been used for getting from place to place. Which is fine! i just think it could be used for more

if i were in charge of the story, i'd take more of a perspective that she has access to the void, which she can use for teleporting and moving between different points in space, but that's not all it would be. i think with a level of practice and control, she could learn to open the void without needing to go through it, essentially creating portals instead. But! here's the catch! in canon, she always enters the void, and then creates the exit. my proposition: she could lock people in the void. Open a portal, shove them through, close it behind them and leave them there. or, close it when someone is halfway through, cutting their body in half

there's a lot of possibilities with this one!! you've probably seen some movies/stories with this kind of concept as well, so you can apply some of that. the things like redirecting a knife midair so it hits someone else, opening a portal so someone's punch hits them in the face, etc.

enhancing: this ability I could see being used alongside the telepathy rewrite, cultivating a close crew of people loyal to the death with powerful abilities and then taking them to the next level. But here's an idea I had: enhancing is all about the transfer of energy, right? she stores up energy and releases it through physical contact with her fingertips. but transfer can go both ways--what if she stole energy, draining people's reserves until they can't fight and redistributing it to her friends/acquired people. she could end a fight so quickly, just make contact and incapacitate someone.

if we went more in depth on just the enhancing part, the giving energy in canon, I'd want to see her use it on the Neverseen. That may sound counterprodutive, but here me out. What if she overloads them, gives them too much energy and makes their ability to strong to control, so they loose it. This would be a riskier one, with a lot of potential to hurt her and her friends, as them loosing control would affect everyone in the vicinity, but it could mess with the Neverseen's ability enough to provide distraction for an escape, sneaky plan, or something else. If that makes sense.

not necessarily to use with sophie, but I also think it could be interesting to have an enhancer who uses their ability to carelessly, all the time, that they need to take energy from people to survive. they keep overexxerting themselves and are starved for energy. if they're not careful, they could take too much, it could be addicting. like their own personal brand of heroine. im so sorry for the twilight reference

polyglot: this one is difficult, but let's see what I can come up with. The main aspect of this ability that she uses is the ability to speak with animals, and i'm fairly content with that. So, i'd just want to take it to the next level. There are animals everywhere. Animals can access places she can't and are innocent in appearance. Right now i'm just imagining Sophie building trusting bonds with a few birds who can fly around Neverseen/enemy places and overhear things, then relay that information back to her. Especially since elves aren't ass accustomed to the idea of bugs (the listening device) and things listening in.

not only that, but some animals can be fucking terrifying! imagine having them on her side! Actually, if you remember from the deleted scene from Nightfall, Sophie was starting to build up a relationship with the gorgodon--imagine if she actually had. That creature is incredibly strong and has been mistreated its entire life. Sophie coming along and giving it a home, communication, understanding, i could see it growing fiercely protective of her and her open mind. Her Polyglotism combined with her telepathy makes for a lot of potential because of her communication with animals and ability to understand them. it almost creates an entirely different ability, in a way

inflicting: right now her inflicting is very all or nothing, it's just this thing that explodes out of her, everything at once. i'd like to see her develop more control, the ability to determine exactly how much of each emotion she'll be imposing on someone else. The capacity to build upon itself and make it grow. In my mind this could be used to convince whoever she's inflicting on that the emotion in their own and that it's how they actually feel. It's not just this trainwreck thrown at them all at once, maybe it's just a subtle trickle of doubt, this little fear. that's reasonable. that could belong to them, but as it builds and builds and builds it becomes more and more incapacitating and the person may freak out because they think it's their own feelings and the inflicting could remain undetected for a while.

another thing: i think it would be a cool caveat if the inflictor also had to experience the emotion they were inflicting. not as strong as their target, but inflicting comes from memories of emotions and experiences, so I can only imagine it would grow stronger if the person was actually feeling the emotion as they inflicted.

this whole post is getting long so i'll stop here, but!! these are just some of my many thoughts on abilities and how I would like to portray/tweak them in the story. if you've read the wings au, you know i've added a few variations and messed around with the abilities a little there, so it was a lot of fun to do them for these too!

seriously it's so interesting to me I could keep talking about abilities forever

[thevioletjones]

I’d love to see you tackle 5 or 44! Congrats on the Kudos!

Thank you! 5 was included previously, so just 44. 🙂 This one is explicit, FYI.

Prompt 5: “I still remember the way you taste.”

Cell Date

Getting smart about how he acted behind bars was really starting to pay off for Mickey. Not only was he staying out of trouble so that he’d have a chance of making early parole, he was also forging advantageous relationships, mostly with the guards and the old-timers that liked to do good deeds like helping other inmates get an education or decent legal representation.

Little things like that, plus abstaining from shanking for pay or cold-cocking bitches who got mouthy, were making this Mickey’s most pleasant and drama-free stint in prison since his unceremonious induction into juvie ten years previous.

Along with his cooperation and best behavior came some quality perks: first pick of audiobooks from the dude he helped in the library; extra jello, pudding, and french fries from that dude’s kitchen husband; extended yard and gym time when the guard he had people doing favors for on the outside was on duty; and the holy grail, his very own recently acquired smartphone, which he could keep with him in his cell whenever the right people were working, and otherwise stow with a friend when sweep checks were imminent. All he had to do to get safekeeping was provide phone privilege favors. Gave him an extra source of income too, when he sold video call time to inmates on the side.

Tonight, though, he was finally gonna have the damn cell to himself all night long. His bunkmate had just been released, no one else had been assigned to his bed yet, and the overnight guard was a friendly. That meant that at long last, he’d be able to have some kind of sexual escapade with his boyfriend for the first time since he’d gotten locked up nine months ago. As a bonus, they could maybe stay up shooting the shit too. But really, Mickey was horny as hell, and he imagined that Ian was too.

They had a kind of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it came to banging other people while they were apart, but as a rule, they weren’t allowed to do it more than once a month, or with the same guy twice, blowjobs included. That meant a lot of lonely masturbation sessions on both sides of the prison walls.

It was cruel that the only relief they could get from each other was by proxy of their own hands anyway, but at least now they’d be able to watch each other and egg each other on. It wasn’t the most ideal situation ever, but it was way better than having to stick to innocuous topics on the prison landlines that ran out at the ten minute mark.

This was going to be a treat.

He waited ’til 30 minutes past lights out just to be sure the coast was clear, counting down the minutes like a fucking schoolgirl waiting to make an illicit phone call after her parents fell asleep. As soon as the digital display hit 9:30, he was eagerly punching in the memorized number, smirking as he selected the video option.

He actually felt nervous as it rang, irrationally worried that Ian would be indisposed despite their agreed upon time and date. It took almost four whole rings before the display lit up, and a buffering vision of Ian appeared.

Mickey’s smile couldn’t help but mirror the cheerful redhead’s, and it only widened when he heard his deep, familiar voice.

“Hey, Mick.”

“Gallagher,” he replied softly and full of affection.

“I can barely see you,” Ian said with a chuckle. “That's not really fair.”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Forgot. Hang on.”

He’d managed to get his hands on a clip-on reading light through the library contraband network, so it would have to do. He dug it out from the hole in his thin-ass mattress pad and clipped it to the bar of the lower bunk, angling it toward his face and flipping it on. It wasn’t exactly super-bright, but it was good enough.

“Happy now? This is the best I could do on the after-hours lighting.”

“Yeah, I am. You look good.”

“Shut the fuck up. You look way better. Like a free man.”

Ian ran a hand through his hair, and Mickey wished it were his hand. “It is a nifty advantage, but it’d be a lot better if you were next to me.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’m getting the rawer deal here.”

“Who’s fault is that?” Ian challenged with a raised brow.

Mickey licked his lips, humming. “Didn’t realize the purpose of this call was to get on my ass about gettin’ locked up. Thought we already did that fun routine.”

Ian sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just miss you.”

“I’m doin’ what I can, gingerbread. Might get lucky in the next few months. Been playin’ the game all nice like. No demerits on my scorecard.”

“I appreciate that. You know I’ll be waiting.”

“Mm.”

“So… what’s new?”

Mickey laughed. “You want me to recount the thrilling tales of the jailbird jerk-offs? How would that be interesting or entertaining?”

“I’m pretty sure you witness more random acts of weirdness than I do everyday. You want me to talk about my job and coworkers, or my niece and nephew? I’m sure you’re dying to know on all counts.”

“Yeah, you got me figured out, Gallagher. That’s exactly why I wanted this dimly lit video call with your pale ass.”

Ian snickered. “Is this the part where we jump straight to the sex?”

Mickey shrugged and scratched his balls. “I mean, if we were in person without that fuckin’ glass between us, we woulda already been bangin’ by now.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“So?”

“What?”

“Show me your dick.”

Ian snorted, and it was nice to see him laugh unrestrainedly. They usually didn’t do too much laughing during his visits.

“It’s not hard yet.”

“Well, what the fuck you waitin’ for? Shoulda started before I called.”

“God, Mick, you really know how to romance a guy on his first date in nearly a year.”

“If this is a date, you got a really low bar, man.”

“Haven’t I always?”

“‘Ey! Fuck you.”

Ian laughed again and it made Mickey smile wide. He was gonna get addicted to these phone interludes, he could tell.

“Which reminds me… I expect you to take me out a few times when you get sprung, Milkovich. Restaurants, clubs, movies, the works.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Exactly how many acts of penance are on your little atonement list?”

“As many as I want. You got a problem with that?”

“You know I didn’t get locked up on purpose, right? Cuz I think you maybe don’t know that.”

“I think that I want you to stop putting yourself in situations where one of the possible outcomes is getting locked up. Cuz then we’re forced to resort to one sad long-distance video wank every nine months, which kinda fuckin’ blows, and not in the good way.”

“First of all, as long as I don’t get this shit confiscated by one of the asshole guards, we can keep doin’ this pretty regularly. Secondly, we haven’t even gotten to the wank part yet, so don’t call it sad. Also, is sex all that matters to you?”

“Says the guy who just told me to shut up and get my dick out.”

“Like you said, it’s been a long time.”

“And I’ve already told you that I miss you and want you beside me. I thought you wanted your dick stroked, not your ego.”

“Good one,” said Mickey, reaching down to fondle himself. “So how we gonna do this?”

“The only way we can, I guess.”

“Fine. Do I get to ask you to start touching yourself now?”

Ian giggled. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get it over with.”

“What kind of attitude is that? Get the hell on board or this ain’t gonna work.”

“Calm down and get your cock hard, convict boy.”

Mickey didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped his hand under the waistband of his boxers, rubbing and squeezing gently.

“You gonna give me somethin’ to look at or what?”

“Gimme a minute, fool. It’s not gonna be very pretty in its current state.”

They both went non-verbal for a while as their arms started working, the only sounds being stray gasps, rustling noises, and slick skin against skin.

“‘Kay,” urged Mickey, “lemme see it.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Fine, just flip the camera.”

Mickey pressed around and activated the rear camera with flash, licking his lips when the screen filled with Ian’s lower half, hand jerking his big dick in that perfect rhythm he remembered so well. It forced out a moan before he could catch himself.

“Mick,” Ian whispered, and he suddenly missed the feel of his boyfriend’s breath blowing hot against his skin as they fucked. And that just reminded him of the way he’d nip and lick at Mickey’s neck, or pinch his nipples at just the right time.

“Ian,” he groaned, his strokes getting faster and more deliberate now that he was fully hard. “Miss you.”

And that was definitely the lamest shit to say when you were supposed to be talking dirty for the purposes of video sex, but it’s what came out of his mouth on account of all the memories surfacing, coupled with the regret of not being able to put his hands on Ian or have Ian’s hands put on him.

Mickey had never wanted to suck a dick so badly in his entire life, simply because he was being denied the opportunity. He’d almost forgotten how delicious Ian’s cock really was. It could wreck him all night long, or Mickey could worship it a little on his hands and knees when the urge overcame him. He wanted it in him one way or the other. Keeping him away from it was cruel and unusual punishment.

“Wanna fuck you, Mick.” Ian was still using this soft, breathy voice that was making him crazy. “Wanna see your ass.”

Mickey’s hand faltered for a moment as he snickered. “How the fuck am I supposed to get you that camera angle right now, genius?”

“You really didn’t think this through enough first,” chided Ian.

“Suck my dick, Gallagher.”

“Mmm, I’d love to get my mouth on you right now. I still remember the way you taste.”

“Oh, shit.”

Mickey’s jerks got tighter with that fantasy egging him on, and silkier with the ease of the pre-cum oozing from his slit.

“You got something to stick up your ass?”

Mickey whined. “Fuckin’ wish. Don’t exactly got a dildo permit, and that’s the kinda contraband no one tries to smuggle or sell.”

“A finger or two will do, right?” asked Ian, pausing for a moment to squirt some lube into his hand.

“‘Ey! What the fuck? No fair! You want me to try and prop this thing somewhere so you can watch me finger myself without lube, and you’re gonna casually use some to jack off with right in front of me? Read the room, fuckhead.”

Ian chuckled. “Sorry, Mick. What happened to the mayo packets?”

Mickey grimaced, regretting ever having told Ian about sometimes using that condiment as lube when he wanted to spice up a solo sesh. “Shut the fuck up and just help me get a damn orgasm.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know! What am I, the video sex expert?”

“You’re not a sexpert?”

“Now is not the time for your lame jokes, okay?”

“Yeah, okay, but I’ve never done this before either, jackass. I already made my request and you’re ignoring it. You do that for me, I’ll do something for you.”

“Fine, but if I do this for you, I won’t be able to see shit while it’s happenin’, so you have to fuckin’ wait to blow your load, or I’ll never do this with you again.”

“So is that your request? To see me blow my load?”

“Bitch, do I need to explain how porn works to you? You know how at the end of the video, you get to see everybody come? Jizz flyin’ everywhere?”

“Oh, believe me, next time we’re actually together in bed, I will cover you in jizz from head to toe.”

“That’s a lofty goal. Could take a while.”

“I’m willing to put in the hours. Now… get to it.”

Mickey sighed and let his cock fall out of his grip, glancing around to try and figure out how he could set the camera up in a decent place to where it would actually get what Ian wanted in frame.

“You’re gonna have to tell me if I need to adjust it, but I don’t have a lot of options, so just tell me when it’s good enough. Don’t need to get all Scorcese with the precision.”

It took a couple of minutes to figure out something that worked, his erection flagging to half-mast as he concentrated on the task Ian had given him. He was pretty sure that Ian should be the one going out of his way to give Mickey a nice show, but he figured if he let Ian have one first, he could make requests for their next long-distance fuck date.

Once Ian said it was good, Mickey kneeled and sat on his haunches, body remaining upright. He could only imagine what his asshole looked like through that badly lit phone camera, but whatever. At least he didn’t have to look at it. Ian could go crazy for it if he wanted to, and apparently he was if the renewed moaning was any indication.

“Get it wet,” Ian directed.

Mickey licked his palm and gave his cock a few tugs to get it back into the game, then spit in his hand and did what he could to work it around his hole. He was crouched with the damn top bunk rubbing against his bent head, with no view other than stiff white sheets and his own thighs and dick.

Yes, Ian was going to owe him a nice fucking show for this crap.

“Well?” the cocky little prick demanded. “Play with it.”

“Hold your damn horses, I ain’t a cam boy,” retorted Mickey.

With a deep sigh, he emptied his mind of the discomfort of his position and the embarrassment of his actions, and just went for it, wetting his finger with his mouth, then shoving it in as far as he could get it on initial entry. It wasn’t very far, but he wiggled and shimmied it as he slid it in and out, until eventually it was in as far as it could go from the angle he was in. He could faintly hear Ian going to town on himself, and he once again longed to be the one doing it to him. Pressing his ass back onto Ian’s cock instead of his own measly finger. Getting Ian’s big hand around his own dick while he did it.

As it were, he had to use his left hand to get some action on his dick, and as soon as he got back into the swing of things on that score, he set about trying to hit his prostate with his right hand.

“Add another one,” rasped Ian.

“You’re gettin’ real mouthy, ain’t you,” Mickey complained, wetting his hand again before sliding in two fingers to the knuckles.

“Oh, sorry, am I supposed to just remain quiet during this phone sex?”

“Stop sassin' me while I try to hit the spot. Some of us don’t got long-ass E.T. fingers.”

Ian chortled. “Jesus, Mick. Can you not bring my favorite childhood movie into this? Plus, you don’t need to go that deep. Just flip your hand over and crook your fingers. You’ll find it.”

“You think you know my ass better than I do?”

“Probably.”

Mickey did as suggested, even though it was the weirdest combination of body angles. It didn’t do anything at first, then all of a sudden, “Oh.”

Both hands got fast and furious as he felt that familiar tingly throb building up inside. He let himself get lost in it for a few minutes, then came to just enough to realize that he wanted a visual of Ian to orgasm to. It’s what he'd been looking forward to all week.

All at once, he stopped, flipping onto his back and grabbing the phone. All he could see on screen now was the damn ceiling, which was annoying, but also hilarious, since it meant that Ian was probably holding the stupid phone a few inches from his stupid face.

“Why’d you stop?” asked Ian breathily.

“Cuz I wanna see you, numbnuts. As fascinating as your ceiling is, it'd be great if you got the main attraction back onscreen. Please and thank you.”

Ian tittered and angled the camera back down, pushing it past his sternum. “‘Kay, where’s yours?”

Mickey pointed his phone back toward his crotch, eyes extremely focused on Ian’s impossibly hard red dick and large pale hand, sighing when he touched himself again. He needed a finger or two back in his ass, though. He always came harder with something up his ass, and it reminded him more of Ian too.

But there was no way to film himself and still get a view of Ian, plus use both hands to get himself off. He had to choose one type of orgasm to have, and since he wasn’t entirely sure he could pop from anal only, he stuck with the jerking off.

Maybe Ian was right. He hadn’t thought this through enough. But he knew exactly what his daydreams would be scheming up until their next interlude.

“You gonna come all over yourself like I asked?” said Mickey.

“Just a sec,” Ian replied with a grunt.

Mickey’s hand synced up with Ian’s, flying up and down his length on the phone screen. “Wanna see it on your stomach and in your pubes.”

Ian’s moans and groans got louder and closer together, building Mickey’s excitement up to the edge.

And then of course his gay-ass boyfriend had to go and say some gay-ass shit like, “I love you!”

And then he was shooting jizz out the tip of his dick, letting it get everywhere.

And the effect was the same as a quality porno scene in that it made Mickey come too, eyes squinting shut as the sensations overwhelmed him. He wanted to throw the phone across the room, but he somehow managed to keep it resting against his chest and filming everything.

As soon as the last of it gushed out, he did let the phone drop next to him for a short time, and Ian must’ve been recovering too, because he didn’t hear any complaints. He reached for the toilet paper roll and wiped himself down as best he could, not bothering to put his shorts back on when he was done.

He flipped onto his stomach, picked up the phone and went back to the front camera, leaning it up against the wall as he burrowed a pillow under his chin.

“That was halfway decent, Gallagher.” He grinned in relaxed satisfaction.

Ian flipped his camera back too, lying on his side, and propping the phone up against what was probably the empty pillow next to him that Mickey should be on.

“You’ll get the real thing soon enough,” Ian replied with a sleepy smile.

“Fuckin’ hope so…” he trailed off in thought. “Sorry I can’t be there. It is my fault.”

“Nah, just forget about all that, okay? All we can do now is get through the time that’s left. But if you think I’m not gonna ride your ass the non-sexy way when you get out, you’re dead wrong. Not gonna let this shit happen again.”

“You want me workin’ some minimum wage bullshit legit job?”

“Yep. We know how to be poor, Mick. Tired of getting the shitty end of all the risk.”

“Your pillow talk could use some work, Red.”

“I know. Thanks for showing me your asshole earlier.”

Mickey laughed. “No sweat. Well, probly some sweat.”

Ian snorted and shook his head. “Shut up. I’m glad we get to do this. It’s nice being with you at bedtime.”

“Be nicer if it included your dick in my ass, but I guess it’s alright.”

“Want me to tell you about the boring shit now?”

“Might as well.”

“As long as you don’t fall asleep before you tell me you love me, bitch.”

Mickey frowned. “Normal people don’t shout that shit as they’re coming, you freak.”

“I don’t care when you say it, just fit it in.”

It wasn’t really something they could comfortably say to one another on their regular taped prison calls and visits. It was better for Mickey's orientation not to be common knowledge to the wrong people around the joint.

“I love you, you silly bastard, now tell me about your dumbass day.”

Ian smiled brightly. “Franny did the cutest shit…”

Mickey half-listened, content to be in the distant presence of Ian’s face, voice, and manner; imagining a day soon to come when they would be reunited for good in the great wide open.

[thenovelartist]

His Greatest Gift - MLQC AU Headcanon

I was inspired by the “Double Seventh Time Travel” cards (and some other stories I’ve read.) After sitting on this for well over a month, I finally finished it.

Premise: The boys are given a gift; they just don’t expect that gift to be a person.

  Gavin

For his acts of bravery on the battlefield, Gavin was promoted in his rank as well as endowed with a gift.

He insisted it was not necessary; Gavin never had need for material objects unless they assisted him in completing his mission.

However, he was told by his lord that it would be in his bedchamber come evening.

Gavin didn’t know what sort of gift to expect, but a girl sitting on the edge of his bed was definitely one possibility he never thought of.

People aren’t gifts, after all. They aren’t meant to be traded like some material object.

So, he sent the woman away.

However, what surprised him was her thankfulness of his action.

It was clear she hadn’t a choice in the matter. Which pissed him off even more.

When he told his lord that he could not accept a human as a gift but that no other gifts were necessary, his lord said he understood.

“Then I suppose I’ll take her as mine.”

Gavin quickly retracted his words, which only pleased his lord. It was clearly a purposeful trick, but Gavin wasn’t about to let her be taken advantage of, either.

He soon learned that she had been orphaned, her father having passed on before paying off a debt to their lord, meaning she was at his service until she paid it off.

Gavin didn’t want his lord to take further advantage of her, so she became a servant-slash-attendant to him of sorts.

He didn’t have a large dwelling, but she kept it clean as well as cooked for him when he was home off the battlefield.

And she sang.

It was accident he found that out, but the moment he heard her mellifluous voice ring through the air of his home, he knew he wanted to hear it again and again and again.

So while he didn’t ask for much of her—their agreement consisted of he gave her protection and a place to live while she kept his house and cooked so he wouldn’t have to (her cooking skills far outranked his, anyway)—he did shyly ask for her to sing more frequently.

And she happily complied.

He’d actually fallen asleep to her voice many times. It soothed and comforted him, particularly after a long day.

Her smile had a similar affect, he soon realized. The burdens of his heart would ease at the sight of her smile.

He didn’t quite understand it; the only other person who could accomplish that was his late mother.

No one other than his mother had cared for him beyond caring how useful of a pawn he could be.

But now, MC was the exception.

The amount she fussed when he came home with scars or bruises made him feel valued.

It also made his little heart go “pitter patter.”

He never thought that he would dread going out to battles or skirmishes. He just didn’t want to leave her.

But, the boy is dense and didn’t realize what that feeling was for months.

However, when he gets it, he doesn’t waste much time. (He does not count time spent weighing the potential negative effects of admitting to the woman who worked for him that he had feelings for her as ‘wasting time’.)

Any fears of his confession putting her in an awkward or uncomfortable position vanished the instant she admitted she’d also grown feelings for him.

Que walks together, shopping trips where he carried the purchases, or horseback rides where he carried her all around the territory.

But Gavin’s favorite thing was to spend any warm afternoon together in a field outside the city, where there was only the two of them resting in the golden fields that waved in the breeze. Sometimes they talked, sometimes one or both of them took a nap. It didn’t matter to Gavin.

With things going so well, it was only a matter of time before he married her.

Occasionally, he did think about how she had originally been a ‘gift’ to him, only for the purpose of warming is bed and entertaining him. How ironic that she’d become the greatest gift he’d ever received.

  Kiro

He was a prince visiting a newly conquered territory.

He did hate the chaos and bloodshed of war, but he thought the cost worth it to liberate an oppressed territory.

And the people seemed to be thankful to be free of their ruthless dictator.

To show their thankfulness, they said they had prepared a gift for him.

Though he assured them it wasn’t necessary, he loved gifts and was always happy to accept.

However, he was less pleased to see that gift was a woman: the daughter of some noble family.

“She’s the finest lady in the land, your highness. For your harem.”

Except… he didn’t have a harem. And wasn’t looking to start one.

However, Savin, his advisor, accepted on the prince’s behalf.

He said something about ‘politics’ that basically meant ‘we’ll take her as a political tool.’

Kiro was not fond of it, but knew there wasn’t much that could be done.

So, he decided the only thing he could do was treat MC as well as he could.

However, she was not informed of his plan, nor was anyone else.

Which lead to MC ending up in his bedchambers that evening.

While…not where he wanted to have a conversation, he assured MC that he had no intention of using her in such a manner.

That resolve was fortified when he saw relieved tears come to her eyes.

He hated tears, so he did his best to cheer her back up and, thankfully, succeeded.

Later, she confessed to him that she’d been picked not because she was the prettiest girl in the land (her words, that Kiro strongly disagreed with; she was truly beautiful) but because her family was among the poorer of nobles, and she was not able to find a good match in time to avoid being given to the prince as a concubine.

Kiro was not happy to hear such a thing. Apparently, the nobles of this territory still needed close monitoring.

When they got back to his castle after leaving the one he’d acquired with the territory, Kiro was sure to treat her well, as well as ensuring that everything was up to her standards.

He had the ability to give her anything she wanted, but he soon discovered that material goods didn’t fascinate her as much as his kingdom itself.

So, Kiro designated a whole day to take her on a full tour of his castle and the city.

And seeing her eyes light up with wonder at their adventure was all that it took to get Kiro addicted to her smile.

From then on, he took her on any adventure he could think of. The pond behind the castle for a picnic? The kitchen for sweets? The town to escape Savin? They’ve been on all of them.

Kiro lives for these adventures. They seem to be better with her.

Her smile, her laughter, her expression of awe and wonderment… they did things to Kiro’s heart.

He’d do anything to get those little gifts from her.

Savin only gets mad when Kiro ditches his work for those adventures, which… is often.

As frustrating as it is, Savin is a little pleased to see Kiro so happy with a woman. It meant an heir might come sooner rather than later.

And when Savin voiced as such to Kiro, Kiro… couldn’t deny it.

He’d taken quite a liking to her. Her smile and laughter, how willing she was to go on adventures with him or just spend a quiet afternoon together. Don’t get him wrong, he loved it all, but it just didn’t seem like enough anymore.

The possibility of more… of taking her as his wife and having a family with her…

That was the end of Kiro’s heart. It had been stolen by a very beautiful thief.

So, with a new determination, he confessed.

His heart soared when she confessed back.

They didn’t date longer than a week before they started making plans for a wedding.

There really was no point in waiting any longer than that. Not when Kiro knew he wanted her to be his princess.

He wanted to bet that all the ladies back in from her territory were jealous now.

Though, to be fair, he didn’t realize just how precious of a gift she’d be to him back then, either. But he swore to never, ever take that for granted again.

  Victor

As Emperor of his region, he knew marriage would be inevitable. He had an obligation to produce an heir.

He had plenty of women throwing themselves at him, practically begging for his attention.

And he found all of them severely lacking.

It exasperated Goldman, his right hand man.

At this point, the emperor’s court decided that it no longer mattered her status, if the emperor showed even the slightest interest in a woman, even if that was just the hint he didn’t hate her, they would make her his bride immediately.

So, a poor, unsuspecting MC arrived at the castle with a plea for her village for the emperor.

And her stubbornness, passion, and determination caught his attention.

Goldman about fainted when Victor smiled at her and answered that he would send his answer within the week.

A week later, Goldman was the one to deliver the supplies. However, unbeknownst to a certain emperor, he may have added a condition to her village receiving those supplies.

And that was how she became a bride presented to him by the court.

Victor was not amused. And he certainly was not amused that said presented bride had been coerced into his bed chambers that night.

But when he tried to send her back, she snapped. “You called me here as your bride in return for the supplies to my village, and then you have the audacity to turn me away?”

Victor’s brow furrowed as his face turned red in anger. “What do you mean ‘in return for supplies’? That was never part of the condition.”

Needless to say, a very pissed Victor had to refrain from sending people to execution right then and there.

After having rectified the situation in his court, the situation remaining was what to do with the girl.

He knew he couldn’t send her back because her village was waiting anxiously for her to become the new empress.

Which meant striking a deal with MC.

“We will keep up appearances. I will marry you in name only, but you must learn how to act like a true noble lady in order to act perfectly as my wife.”

Que lessons.

Victor supervised, AKA, micromanaged.

And MC was always fiery enough to shoot insults in retaliation.

Actually, it became the highlight of his day.

One day, Victor took over her lesson.

Oof, strict teacher.

But the pressure became too much, and MC finally snapped. “I’m doing everything I can! I can’t give you anything else. If you disliked me this much, you shouldn’t have agreed to marry me.”

Shocked at the tears in her eyes, Victor finally composed himself enough to swipe them away. “It’s not because I dislike you. It’s because I know that you’re strong enough to meet my challenge that I demand so much.”

A mutual understanding passed between the two of them then. Victor did his best to not be so strict, realizing too late that she was under so much pressure already that his strictness was not helping her.

He stopped interfering with her normal lessons, causing him to almost… miss her… a bit.

He decided to satisfy that longing by giving her quick, private lessons at the end of the day. She would show him what she learned, and he would gently correct anything he saw wrong.

And afterwards… they couldn’t bring themselves to part.

So, they would simply walk around the gardens and talk.

And soon, as a way of keeping her around even longer, Victor showed her his secret of actually enjoying using the kitchen.

While it originally surprised her, MC quickly became a more than willing taste tester.

Despite the increased amount of time together, Victor still hated parting with her.

Which was why Victor was very pleased at MC’s sudden new habit of bringing tea to his study when he was working.

It was both a blessing and a curse, because when she did, he got the honor of spending time with her, yet he also neglected his work in the process.

Eventually, Victor found that in the span of just a few months while a proper wedding ceremony was being put together, he’d come to regret the deal he made with MC for their marriage to be name only.

He… actually could see himself happy with her.

He debated telling her or not, and in the end, he was a man and confessed his feelings to her a few days before the wedding was set to take place.

He was surprised by her tears at his confession, only to be met with a confession of her own.

The deal was thrown out that night.

And on the wedding night, their marriage became one of not just name, but body and soul.

He would thank Goldman later because—while Victor still did not approve of Goldman’s methods—had it not been for his interference, Victor would not have such a precious gift in his arms now.

  Lucien

He was part of a group of war lords aiming to increase their territory.

He’d conquered a large portion of territory, gaining an army that could then overthrow a comrade’s territory.

Lucien gladly did, taking on the man with no remorse or shame. In fact, he conquered with a smile.

“How dare you turn against me, Ares.”

“Forgive me, Hades,” he said, tone holding no remorse whatsoever. “But I grew tired of your… rather chaotic ambitions.”

Upon defeat, Hades was forced to surrender everything. Land, army, resources,

And a woman he kept very much hidden in his private castle.

Lucien remembered the fear in her eyes the first time they met. She was trapped in one of the rooms, and he’d caught her trying to break the lock on the window.

That fear didn’t dissipate even as a fire lit in her eyes. “I won’t cower to you!” she shouted, glaring at him even though she trembled.

In that moment, Lucien found her easily the most fascinating woman he’d ever seen. Was she driven by courage… or naïve hope?

Either way, it was clear Hades hadn’t broken her yet. Which Lucien was thankful for. She seemed far more interesting like this.

“You could waste time trying to break that lock before certainly injuring yourself in your escape from this third story room. Or, you could just let me show you the way out.”

She looked utterly shocked at that.

He chuckled. “Let’s just say your former master no longer has hold on you. Or anything, really.”

It took a moment for her to process those words. “Are you saying he’d dead?”

“No, not dead. But I do own everything he has as of now.”

“Including me?”

“Including you.”

The fire went out of her eyes a bit at that—what a shame, he quite liked it blazing so brightly—as she eventually followed him from the castle.

He did not dare stay in that castle. Frankly, burning it down would please him the most, which was what he did. He set free those who wanted to find work elsewhere and promised work at his own castle to those who wanted it.

Only a few stayed with him, most unwilling to work for a rogue warlord, but surprisingly, the girl was among them.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she admitted when asked. “If you’re promising work, I’ll take it.”

Lucien found himself very pleased at that. But at the resigned look on her face, he couldn’t help tease her a bit. “Even if I assign you the job of warming my bed?”

She froze, her eyes wide with shock before a fire sparked inside them again. He liked that fire quite a bit. “I tease,” he assured before promising legitimate work for her.

Even after that, she still followed him.

How fascinating a woman she was.

It took three months to learn just how fascinating she was.

He came home wounded after a scuffle on his border. He’d already seen a battlefield doctor to treat them. He would heal just fine.

He asked MC to bring him new bandages. She did so quite quickly, and then she offered to change them for him.

Curious, he accepted.

“Don’t you fear me?” he questioned.

“Why should I?”

“I am no better than your former master.”

“That’s not true!” she cried, looking at him. “You are ruthless, but fair. The people in your territory are able to thrive under your rule.”

He paused, surprised at her words. “And what do you think of me?”

“I think you are gentler and more trustworthy than you present yourself to be. I never worry about my safety or the safety of any other maids here in your home.”

That was all it took for new feelings to spark in Lucien’s chest. Feelings that were so foreign to him yet fascinating to explore.

And he started that exploration by calling on MC to keep him company frequently.

Those meetings varied from walks in his garden to keeping company over tea.

Over time, it became clear just what those feelings in his chest were.

One day, he called her to join him in the library, where they could talk privately.

He wouldn’t confess first. He would talk in a roundabout way that got MC to admit that maybe she felt similarly close to him before he would admit his feelings for her.

He wouldn’t trap her. He would ensure that she felt like she could leave without consequences. But he also knew that if she felt at all similarly, she wouldn’t leave.

And in the end of that conversation that made MC blush bright red and Lucien smirk triumphantly, she agreed to date him.

Which would result in marriage six months later.

Lucien easily felt like the luckiest man alive. He’d conquered many territories and accumulated wealth and riches, but he could say that the only true treasure he’d ever acquired from his efforts was her.

[doomtodivide]

Imagining The Future: Bastille's New Era Analysis

Hello all! The following is taken from the first of my new era update posts on r/Bastillecult. I highly reccomend reading all the posts on there!

Last time I had a few solid guesses with the whole Goosebumps EP transition period, so I figured I would try my luck with this new era. I've broken everything down into a few categories that should hopefully flesh out a sketch of possibilities

Aesthetic: The new logo has a very sleek design. This complete change in aesthetics is very noticable. Bad Blood was filled with literature references, a cozy and nerdy looking dan, and more earthy looking tones. Wild World focused on nihilism, movie references, and an all too realistic dystopian city aesthetic. Doom Days focused on escapism, partying, fucking, and a red and home-y vibes. The lack of color and the clean and sleek look points towards it being a more future oriented era.

Triangle: For a deeper background, I highly recommend reading u/casperwyomingrex 'spost.

The WW era triangle and this new triangle are technically called deltas. While I am by no means a geometry person, I’ve been told by a few math nerds that these triangles are technically not possible in certain plains and spaces, making them impossible. While it is likely that Bastille just needed to explore just slightly outside the normal definition of a triangle to match this aesthetic, the impossible triangle t-shirts hint that there is significance to having “impossible” triangles. This hints that there may be more in common between the WW Era and the Future Era, ie. a dystopian society.

Dystopia: Bastille created an entire dystopian corporation for WW. I remember them saying somewhere they hated the promo and touring process for this album, leading them to switch up the process for DD and the Goosebumps EP. With the record label change and covid shaking up the world, this opens up the opportunity for them to have a redo with this era, especially considering it is a fan favorite era. Many people have pointed out that hint has a vibe similar to black mirror, a sci-fi dystopian show, which would fully support a sci-fi dystopian aesthetic era.

Sound: Though the clip is only 8 seconds long, it gives us some hints about the new era. Bastille once again uses synths for sound, creating a reference to Sci Fi sound effects. The clip mirrors the effect of oscillators to create things like laser sound effects, teleportation, warping, and other “space” noises. I find the juxtaposition of Sci-fi interesting; it was most popular in the early 1900s, meaning Bastille is referencing the past, yet it focuses on the future, which in the lense of Sci-fi, would mean the 2000s and beyond.

In the lens of broadcasting, short interludes are used throughout advertising to the point where many people don’t even think about this. A lot of them are used to hook us in and signify a certain company or thing. In advertisements they are used to signify the company’s presence and to worm the product into our brain. In casinos they are used as a dopamine reward. News stations use them to signify the station. This especially could be relevant in a dystopian society. I’m mentioning this because the clip doesn’t sound full enough to be a song, rather an intro to a news station segment. I find this especially notable considering WW had a news anchor. Looking back, a few videos from wild world could hold significance. This video

has a sci-fi esc clip in the intro.

In Previous Context: In the context of ReOrchestrated, Bastille is no longer letting imposter syndrome or shitty opinions stop them from what they want to do. Meaning they are going full force into the future. There's one specific time during the ReOrch doc where the boys talk about how ReOrch made them realize they could try new shit, even if management thinks it will fail. Dan has spoken in a few interviews now about being excited about collabing (and mentioning relinquishing control to others in the ReOrch doc), a few artists have come forward about working with Dan. While it’s unlikely that every collab we’ve theorized about will go through, Dan Wilson and Ryan Tedder seem to be confirmed in the roster based off of their interviews

When considering the past, a lot of previous songs focus on nostalgia; for example, in Fake it “We can never go back / We can only do our best to recreate.” Post ReOrch and DD, Bastille has worked up enough confidence to push into making their own future, one unlimited by nostalgia and fear.

In the Context of the Goosebumps EP, Inception and Vanilla Sky are both referenced. Both of these movies mark the first time* (to my knowledge

) that futuristic sci-fi has been referenced in Bastille. There is significant overlap with dreaming and time travel, something that could definitely be applied to this era. While it could be coincidental, Bastille has been quite purposeful with using references to add to the era’s aesthetic (see Aesthetic section). Referencing them during a transition period points towards both the literal future (new era) and a new aesthetic.

*Cosmos: War of the Planets and twilight zone have both been referenced but fall into a different category of sci-fi than Vanilla Sky and Inception

In Regards to Distraction Tactics Space Week and WW, alot of it holds very similar aesthetics. This video

from WW also holds a similar aesthetic. Considering DT is linked through space and WW is linked through dystopian this might MIGHT be related.

Hints: It wouldn’t be a new Era without Dan “Soon” Smith teasing us a bit, so here are a few highlights. In this interview

, Dan says “I want to tell you but I can’t! We just want to reflect on the future…” The No Bad Days tweet and the #ToTheSky post likely plays a part in the new era, but the 8 second clip does not have any immediate hints. The art installation in the #ToTheSky post originally caught my interest when it was posted. James Turrel, the artist that created the installation, uses light as a medium to create art. The installation, called the Space That Sees, is described as an “allegory of light that we generate from inside and light that comes from outside: the emergence into space where light comes forth as in a dream." While I have no fucking clue how to interprete this allegory, I imagine space, light, and dreaming will become key players in the new era. A few other notable works of his are the Raethro Pink and Alta Pink, both of which are pinkish purplish white triangles light projections surrounded by inky blackness. The use of Bastille’s triangle logo and a flash of light purple light means there are likely deep ties between the new era and James Turrel’s creations; furthermore, he also acquired a dormant cinder cone volcano to turn into an a museum/observatory using light apertures to observe the solar system, adding further ties to the space and light themes.

Meaning: "You Don't Predict The Future. You Imagine It" I have purposely not used predict in this analysis so I don’t jinx this era. I’ve found a few variations of this saying (You Can’t Predict The Future. But You Can Create It), but all of them seem to point towards creating the future instead of guessing. I imagine not many of my predictions of this era will not be accurate because I am not the one imagining it. I feel like this might also point towards being conscious about what you want out of the future instead of merely guessing where the tides will take you. This could also be like that one story of a kid's drawings turning into real creatures because of the kid imagining it. I feel like “future” and “imagine” point deeply towards sci-fi because of the creative inventions that will take us there. This could also connect to the theory that the survivin’ coin is linked to A.A., and this statement being a motto to help someone escape addiction. Personally, I feel like this clip is the beginning of some sci-fi choose your own adventure video game, but that's my own opinion.

My Personal Crazy Conclusion: It wouldn’t be a post from me without me shooting out some crazy theories. A Light Cult Utopia. That's right. It would be the opposite of WW, meaning it would be new territory for Bastille and it would break a mold (ReOrch doc). It would also give Dan the ability to be more positive then he has been in the past, while also allowing for his normal cynical undertones. Bastille is purposeful with their references, meaning the Jonestown reference in DD might have a bit more purpose behind it. The lighter colors used in the clip would point to happiness. Considering utopias are “imagined” it would fit the phrase in the clip. Sci-fi would also fit into this as being imagined. Considering there are a few space references, I imagine that humans have imagined perfect spacecraft, further fitting sci-fi and a utopian society. Also, Dan collabed with Future Utopia on the track “What’s In A Name?” That's right, what’s in a name? The name being Future Utopia? An entire new era being the name? That right cultists, Dan ”Soon” Smith snuck this under our noses the entire time that bastard.

Summary Statement: This new era will likely bring collabs from an entirely new approach. A Sci-fi dystopian (or utopian) world, one focused on dreaming, light, and space will likely be the aesthetic for this era.

Loose ends: I am only one human, meaning I physically could not rewatch Inception and Vanilla Sky while also researching James Turrel, so there might be a few things I missed in my brief look at them. If anyone would like to read 1984 by George Orwell through the whole dystopian thing, there might be a few connections there.

Based on some things I’ve heard from a little birdy, expect some big non-album projects that tie in with this era and other things….

Special thanks to u/0verjoyed and @ ja9zimm on twitter

[daylightsun]

What I Learn from Years of Reading and Collecting Books and Letting Some of Them Go

These past few days, I "KonMari" my room and decided to rearrange my bookshelves. While sorting out all of my belongings, I discovered a box filled with books I manically collected during my college years sitting underneath my bed. After opening it, the books seem to be staring at me while I stare back at them like we are having a confrontation of sorts. For a moment, it made me reflect on my life as a reader and book collector, and this sense of nostalgia hit me.

After snapping out of this nostalgic state, the fact remains that my shelf space and room space are precious and limited, and I only want to fill my life with things that “spark joy” within me. I need to decide which books would stay and which would eventually go to the bin. So in honor of literature month and the books I am about to throw away, I would like to write some piece to honor my journey as a reader and book collector.

Starting Years as a Reader and Book Collector

My fascination with books started early in my childhood. I remember holding my small hardbound fairytale books, a book set with stories like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Three Little Pigs. But it was the illustrations at first that engrossed me. It's like my eyes can't get enough of the colors and drawings. I look at them again and again, committing them in my memory. Then there was my childhood best friend Grimm's book of fairytales. The book was enormous and heavy. It contained more words and the occasional one to two pages of illustrations, like the naked butt of the king in The Emperor's New Clothes, the candy house of the witch in Hansel, and Gretel other beautiful illustrations inside that book.

However, it is in my teenage years that I started to enjoy reading literature, and book reports ignite my interest in book collecting. Books like Ella Enchanted, The Little Prince, and Thieves of Ostia were carried inside our classroom boxes after boxes. A sheer excitement overcame me, forgetting the fear I felt days before asking for extra money to buy something outside the average family expenses, even if it is for school requirements.

I did not grow up in an environment that encourages me to read books outside the typical academic obligations. It is usual for Southeast Asian households to be thrifty, so buying books for leisure is a luxury. Moreover, since it does not involve cleaning and moving around the house, reading for my parents is a lazy activity. Not to mention what damage it can do to your eyesight, they would add. However, I continued to read in secret and went against the general expectations.

I have read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince while holding a flashlight while everyone in the house is sleeping at night so no one could scold me. I read with my friends at school. We exchanged novels, particularly stories about young adults. I bought my first novel, L. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, in a book fair inside my school using my savings. And even after my childhood best friend, who was four years older than me, went away to college, I marched to their house and borrowed books from her mother like Louisa Alcott's Little Women.

Reading helped me to cope with my deep-seated feeling of isolation and loneliness because of being an adopted child. I found out pieces of the truth through indirect hints and silent whispers between adults and childish banter between cousins. So I was left alone on my own devices to understand and stitch the truth. But in reading, I started to find solace and identity with the people I meet in stories. Books became for me houses I visit to explore and get to know the people living inside. And sometimes, I leave too early out of boredom or just out of an inability to comprehend the house. But sometimes, even after the visit, a piece of my heart stayed inside those pages. When I read, I have companions, and when I buy a book, I have something of my own.

Moreover, in books, I found girls like me, like Anne in Anne of Green Gables or Mary in The Secret Garden. Orphaned and neglected at a very young age and adopted, they were able to find acceptance and love. In those stories, they eventually mattered and belonged to the people around them. And in my heart, I wanted the same assurance these characters have that I am going to be OK despite my "oddness."

Not encouraged to read, buy books for my leisure, and being an adopted child in her young adolescent years made me want to form a personal path of rebellion. I decided to be a bookworm and persist in reading and building my book collection even if I am discouraged! Talk about being brave and revolutionary. Though I developed a deep affection for reading and books by this time, this "rebellious" way serves another personal purpose, and that is instead of being single out because ofbeing an adopted child, I can be single out because of my "bookish-ness." This identity gave me a powerful feeling of being significantly different from the crowd. I am somehow special but without the burden and constantly feeling the need to fight the pity of the people around me.

College Years

When I went to college, I develop an unhealthy impulse of excessively buying booksbut not reading them. There is a Japanese term for this impulsive behavior called "tsundoku." My obsession with buying books can be attributed to two main culprits. First, I started to attend and participate actively in church, and second, the store Book Sale.

In our church, we have a statement I wrote in the tablet of my heart with great faithfulness and love. It goes this way "Great leaders read books," which is a remarkable statement unless someone went overboard with trying to read books by purchasing them. This someone is, of course, is me. Ooops.

On multiple days within a week, I would visit and sit on the SM Baguio's Book Salefloor, hunting and obsessing over books. I would gladly move stacks upon stacks of books desperately looking for a purchase treasure. And most of us know, books are sold at Book Sale at a meager price. It became a standard for me to go home to my boarding house with three to five books. And oh boy, the stacks of books in my room just grew and grew. By the end of my seven years in college, the heaviest of my baggage is the one enormous box where I managed to fit all the books I have acquired.

Even though my college years were a time of my compulsive and unhealthy behaviors in reading and book buying, these were also the years I familiarized myself with what types of storytelling I would enjoy and who are my favorite authors. Neil Gaiman and Haruki Murakami cast their spell on me, and I would read again and again stories like The Little Prince, Memoirs of A Geisha, and The Last Time I Saw Mother.

But what I am most thankful for reading around this time is the opportunity it gave me to connect to other people through knowledge sharing. When I read an excellent book that gave me a lot of insight, there is an internal urge to pass it to someone else or talk about it with a friend. So I either talk about it or give the book. Giving that well-written book will sting a bit. Still, the disappointment of not having someone to undergo the experience of reading it is more painful than letting it go because I've discovered that there are types of books that cannot stay only in one pair of hands but have to travel to the next pair to be held and read. Some stories and books are personal to me, and they will stay on my shelves as long as they can, but there is another type of book that the knowledge they contain needs to be passed on and shared.

Working Years

Buying books using the allowance from your parents are far easier than using your own hard-earned money. Being a young professional and just started to manage my finances made the reality of my unhealthy addiction hit hard. I can not longer afford to go to book shops without thoroughly thinking if the book I am picking is something I should buy. "Adulting" has forced maturity in me.

Putting some healthy breaks on my general attitude towards reading and book collecting is just one part of the exciting times ahead of me as a bibliophile. Going back to my hometown and having more personal freedom have opened the doors to uncharted territories. As a reader and book collector, I've been officially and finally introduced to book fairs and Philippine Literature.

When I talk about book fairs that I participate in this time, these are the mega fairs that involve many publishing houses. Book fairs with book launching, book signing, live-reading, and writers' meet and greet events. The Manila International Book Fair (MIBF) and Big Bad Wolf are an example of these fairs. The experience was exhilarating and magical, and I would like to think that every reader and book collector would agree that book fairs are sort of heaven or nirvana on earth.

But so far, the greatest book fair I get to experience must also be the most challenging endeavor I undertook professionally, the Frankfurt Book Fair 2019. Imanaged to be a part of the team that organized the delegation that represented the Philippines in the largest international book fair. FBF is annually held during October in Frankfurt, Germany, with participants worldwide and boost to be the most extensive platform for digital and printed content. So even though I did not personally go to Frankfurt, being part of this massive event as a production assistant and being part of the early planning stages to post-prod was a dream come true. Seeing over 500 books published by the leading publishing houses in the country and written by Filipino authors showcased in the entire world in a beautifully designed stand made me very happy and proud.

Working in a government agency that primarily serves the Philippine publishing industry also gave me a closer look into the local literature. Unfortunately, I did not grow up reading books written by Filipino writers. Aside from the usual piece of local literature my Filipino textbooks in high school and college courses offered, Philippine literature did not become part of my early reading and book collection. But my ignorance of Filipino authors and literature ended when  I worked at NBDB and when a friend lent me Philippine literature books. As I started to read the literary works of Eliza Victoria, Nick Joaquin, Luis Joaquin M. Katigbak, and other amazing Filipino authors, I felt both shame and relief. I finally got to experience my national consciousness and Filipino identity through literature by Filipino authors for Filipinos.

But my bad habits in college still are present and had managed to erode my psyche. Surrounded by so many book-related things, I got back to the same dangerous pattern. I acquired more books but have no diligence and genuine interest in reading. In the process, I become a hoarder like the Businessman from The Little Prince, who cannot stop owning and counting every star he sees in the sky but never understood its value. After all, what is a book without its reader?

And as a result, something bad happened. The words in the pages started to leave me, I slowly lost the ability to build worlds in my head, and my insatiable thirst for knowledge had dwindled. Then one day, I lost all of my interest in books. For one and a half years, I would not touch any books on my bookshelves and stop actively reading and looking for books to buy. I had enough.

                                                           *** Going back to the present time and Marie Kondo, she mentioned in her best-selling book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up (and yes, I have the book), that the KonMari method encourages only to keep around thirty books. Thirty books seem to be awfully few, and how can a person who loves reading and collecting books find the courage to let go.

But as the book explained, you need to ask oneself the fundamental question of the KonMari method, "does this spark joy?". Does this book spark joy? Have I read this, and if I happened to have, does it aroused my intellect? And I have asked these hard questions to every book in my belongings.

It is almost four years after my time at the university. I am currently in a work-from-home setup which is a very fortunate situation while in the middle of a global pandemic. And yes, I am about to throw books, a lot of them, which you might think is a waste, but deep down, I know I will never reread these, nor will I ever start to read them again.

Honestly, I cannot remember the exact day I pick up a book on my shelf and read again, nor the reason behind it. But having the courage to declutter and purge my book collection, I realized a few months ago that I started again to read and purchase books, but this time there is an effort to be mindful with every reading and purchase made. This subtle change in behavior gave my reading and collecting a better sense of purpose and direction.

My life is composed of limited time, meaning I can only read books that much. But I've been in a relationship with books for many years now. Collecting books became a form of personal art, and reading stories helped me become a better person. It healed me, became a catalyst to learn a couple of life lessons, and taught me to give. And I do not see myself stopping at any point in my life. So might as well keep and read books that only truly capture my spirit, challenges me, and, if I was lucky, changes me. Because that is the thing about it, books are powerful.

[bran-writes]

AK Character Profile: Cal

So, we’ve covered the Outliers, the group of characters at the center of Apocalypse Kings. This week I’ll introduce Lori, my third and final POV character. I’ll also cover the supporting characters surrounding her at Bergeron Robotics. But first, I’ve got a bonus character profile this week! One of my favorites and I’ve been wanting to introduce y’all to him!

California Robert Schuster-Bergeron

14 years old

Born April 15th, 2026

White

Cal Schuster-Bergeron is the 14 year-old tech prodigy and only cousin of Kwin Bergeron. Born to Monica Bergeron and Kenny Schuster, Cal is a scrawny kid but more than makes up for it in raw, near genius level intellect and sharp wit, taking after his maternal grandfather.

While he’s somewhat of a recluse, Cal has some social potential, and enjoys interaction with other kids, especially older ones who can understand him a bit better than kids his own age. However, Cal’s scientific and mechanical exploits thrive in solitude. He’ll tell just about anybody that he’d love to get out more but his personal projects keep him busy. Cal loves working with his hands and challenging himself to build and modify electronics, but he does get lonely at times. While he excels at school and takes part in the Young Innovators program to satisfy that social itch, he dives headfirst into his love of tech and tinkering with computers to shield himself from a troubled home life.

Enter The Cubby, Cal’s hideout turned home on the top floor of his apartment building. In exchange for helping the landlord service the building, Cal’s been allowed to convert the un-rentable loft into his own personal workspace- complete with the monitors, work stations, camera feeds of the premises and an alcove that houses his living space. Outside of school and Young Innovators meetings, Cal spends all his time in The Cubby- except for quick drop in visits to The Promenade for Supplies and his cousin’s house. In a near constant state of independence, Cal cooks his own meals and sleeps in the bed he carried up from his apartment downstairs. He rarely sees his mother, who is a notorious gambler and drug addict. Even when he goes down to tidy up the place, she’s usually off with another boyfriend or in the drunk tank at the Three Pines precinct.

In a way, Cal’s been forced into his own independence and self-care. He longs to have a better relationship with his other family members, particularly Kwin, but he hasn’t figured out a way of expressing that being emotionally close with people makes him anxious and in some ways, scares him. Receiving affection isn’t something Cal is used to, and he now avoids it when he can.

Cal does, however, spend time with his grandfather when he gets the opportunity. Not known for being very quite as affectionate as Aunt Dana or Kwin, Sam provides an exploratory respite from Cal’s work. He spends hours at the lab compound, learning what he can and seeing the innovative tech his grandfather is striving for. The man’s usually incredibly busy, but tries to make up for it by inviting Cal up to the lab or taking him out to lunch, where they discuss current topics in robotics and mechatronics. Cal connects with Sam the most, as they have strikingly similar interests.

Overall, Cal wants to find a purpose and help others, but he wants to do it his own way. With his tech savvy and and watchful eye on current events, Cal’s become somewhat of a doomsday prepper. Using money he gets from running a computer and software repair service (which he started illegally, using accounts under a false identity and shipping through P.O. Boxes), he buys supplies online and has hidden emergency caches all over Three Pines.

In The Cubby, one might also find questionably acquired electronics, specifically drones. A specialty of Cal’s, his drones could be flown to any point in city limits and back to the roof of his apartment reliably. He’s even coordinated with friends he met online to hijack Internet usage not reliant on the city’s connectivity. His access to all this proves Cal’s resourcefulness, intelligence and disregard for rules when it suits him.

Tag List:

@remi-writes-sometimes​ @writerinafury​ @the-violet-writer​ @anomaly00​ @writinglyra​ @linariouswrites​ @drabbleitout​ @carmina-solis​

[erikthedead]

entry #1

I have finally acquired Microsoft Word! I really didn’t want to pay a monthly subscription for it, but it is the best writing software out there. Every time I mention myself spending money, a small prayer goes out to all the tax-paying members of the nation, since all my money comes from Universal Credit, which is the United Kingdom’s cute name for a type of welfare money. I much prefer just calling it ‘welfare,’ or even better ‘NEETbux,’ which I discovered used in online forums as a word for the money people receive when they are not in education, employment, or training (N.E.E.T), which has been my status for about two years now. Then ‘bux’ is just ‘bucks,’ obviously. Bucks is just money, obviously. Many people receiving Universal Credit also work as well; they just receive less - enough to supplement their wages if they aren’t getting enough money from their jobs.  

My last job was working in a busy restaurant for just about a year. Before that I was in university, but I dropped out after only completing the first year out of three. Before that, I worked as a carer for elderly people for just under a year. Before that, I was in college for two years, and I actually passed the course. I only passed it because the subject was forensic science, which included lots of writing about psychology, criminology and lab reports. I was never that good in the lab practically. I got flustered and bewildered in such a bright, sanitary environment that required precision and organisation to achieve the desired results. When it came to scrambling together a report to submit the next day though, I was pretty golden. I only dropped out of university because I had a mental break down as a result of poor mental health and just the fact that going outside and interacting with people was and still is incredibly exhausting for me. After a year of doing that consistently it seems, I get fatigued. In the end I got an average grade for the college course because some of the work was difficult, or boring, and that fatigue was hitting me by the second year. However, the grades I was getting on my university assignments for psychology and sociology were anywhere between top marks and good marks (Between 1st – 2:2 in UK student language). I never once read the feedback from the tutors who marked my work. All I needed to know was the mark was okay and moved on to the next assignment, firstly because I was arrogant and secondly, I couldn’t handle criticism. The mental break down itself involved me walking through the campus one day only to find myself slipping into a dissociative state. Nothing had happened immediately prior to trigger this, it just happened. It felt strange, like I wasn’t really real, and neither was anyone else. Everything felt distant and off, both externally and internally. It was frightening and strangely peaceful, as if at any moment someone could come in and blow the building up and I wouldn’t even react to it. That wasn’t normal. The only way to snap out of it was to lock myself in a toilet cubicle and lightly slice my arm with a tiny knife I had on my keys. It worked, but now I was in floods of tears and a state of distress, so I went to the student welfare services to see if they could help me or at least let me sit somewhere nicer than a toilet while I calmed down. It was an open office waiting area at the side of the bottom floor of a building that matched the layout of a prison ward with the stairs and the upper floors creating a square boarder of classrooms, that would have been cells for a prison. More for practical purposes than for aesthetic reasons, I’m sure. Still sobbing, and hiding my self-inflicted cuts, I asked the person behind the desk if I could ‘see someone,’ which is one polite British way of asking for help. After waiting a little while, a plump middle-aged lady appeared and brought me into her own little private office to ask me what had happened. She gave me her sympathy and asked me about my life and my history, and gave me some more sympathy, while relating her own experiences to mine. She was a good counsellor, basically. But having a good counsellor on site wasn’t enough to keep me on the course after that incident. Getting a degree just wasn’t worth it at the time. Being such a depressed and pessimistic person, I was only actually doing the course for ‘fun’ anyway, not for the hope that it will bring me a better future. Until recently, I never saw a future for myself. It wasn’t even a bleak future I imagined; it was just blank. I couldn’t even conceptualise it.

It’s not a mystery where all my misery came from. My childhood was a bit inconsistent to start, and from what I’ve observed, children need consistency more than anything to develop promisingly. I remember reading a study once that found children raised by parents who were consistently abusive to them were in fact more mentally stable than those raised by parents who could be lovely one day and nasty the next. It was not knowing what treatment they were going to get that did them in. It makes sense because if you’re always expecting to face a thrashing or a shouting at every day, you can at least prepare for it and train yourself to deal with it. We’re very adaptable creatures, but we need to be able to recognise patterns around us to do that. If there is no pattern, then how can we possibly make predictions? Without predictions, how can we possibly feel secure about our future? Having said all that, I was never abused in any way growing up, but I was sometimes neglected by my young mother, who was only 16 when she gave birth to me. Of course, it’s understandable now, but from a child’s perspective all you think is ‘why doesn’t my mum want me?’ When she sends you to your room for no reason and tells you not to come down for hours at a time. I asked ‘why’ a lot. Never got a good reason. I’m sure plenty of people who were raised by a drug-addicted parent can relate to this. She herself was a good mother, not amazing, but good. She told me she loved plenty of times, she gave me what she could, including a little sister when I was three years old. I think it was shortly after her birth that mum started taking heroin. It was only during drug education in year five of school (I would have been about 11) that I put the pieces together. She hid her addiction pretty well from us, but I sometimes found pieces of tin foil lying around the living room with lines of black residue on them, and once or twice witnessed her junkie friends ‘nodding off.’ There’s also a clear memory in my mind of being taken along by her and my nan to score some brown out of town and I can picture in my head the massive set of old-fashioned scales this drug dealer had sat on his coffee table right in front of me. I was too young to understand any of their lingo, though. Yes, I mentioned my nan, my mum’s mum. They got smacked up together, and they eventually got clean together. I’ll never know the details of how that came about because neither of them are alive anymore to ask. Mum died when I was 14 by taking an overdose of her methadone, then nan died when was 21 of a heart attack, likely due to the COPD she had developed from years of smoking.

My nan was so full of love for my mum, my sister and me. Some of my favourite childhood memories are being snuggled up in bed listening to her read me stories, which she did with flare and enthusiasm. She would affectionately call us her ‘wobblies,’ and give us more hugs kisses than we ever wanted. My mum definitely inherited her loving nature from her. But love on its own isn’t enough to keep kids clothed and fed and able to go out and do things. This is where the legend that is my grandad comes in. He is still going strong at 66 years old as of writing. God knows where I’d be without him. He’s been my father figure all my life since I never knew who or where my real dad was. He’s hard-working, reliable, responsible and strong. He supported us immensely despite not relating to him biologically. My biological grandfather was a free-spirited busker who liked to smoke and drink a lot, who I only met a hand full of times before he hanged himself when I was 19. His death did not affect me, but my mum’s and nan’s certainly did. I’ll probably have to see my grandad die as well eventually, and I don’t dread anything more.

Although I started off describing my family background by saying it’s obvious where my source of misery comes from, I must emphasise that my family is not the source of my misery. My childhood overall was pretty forgettable. I only have a few memories and they’re fond memories, despite the unfortunate situation I just described. Even getting my face ripped open by the neighbour’s dog when I was six didn’t faze me. It was only when puberty hit me that life started to feel horrible, and it just got worse.

I was an early bloomer, if blooming is what you call it. I call it mutating. I started getting hairy and growing tits when I was 10, and got my period about a year later. Now THAT is a traumatic memory. Waking up and going for a morning wee as usual, sitting down on the toilet and being overcome with horror at the sight of blood covering my pyjamas, realising there’s only one place that could have come from, then investigating the source only to confirm ‘Oh shit, I’m bleeding from between my legs!’ I was living with my nan and grandad at the time and I stayed there (or here, since I’m still living in the same house as of writing) under their guardianship while mum sorted herself out. After the shocking discovery of blood, I immediately ran into nan’s bedroom to wake her up. I vividly remember what and how she responded to me. With a sigh of what seemed like unsettling disappointment she said “Oh, darling, I’m sorry, I’m afraid you’ve got your period.’  I wonder now if she said it like that because she felt guilty for not warning me about this, as she should have. Someone should have. In all fairness I was young, but the other kids in my year at school were soon popping into adolescence alongside me, so I thought that soon enough everyone else would be going through what I was going through, but that wasn’t the case. I was bullied for having chronic acne. I was also a bit of a chubby boffin, but it was mostly the acne that people targeted me for. The girls shaved their legs once they started to get hairy, and I remember thinking ‘Damn, I suppose I’ve got to do that too,’ despite never wearing a skirt. They also seemed to relish in showing off and comparing their bras in the changing rooms, while I hid away as very best as I could. Make-up was a constant battle between students and teachers because they all wanted to look pretty, but it wasn’t allowed in middle school (Year 5-8), so luckily, I had an excuse for not wearing it. I’d regularly complain to my family about hating going to school, and how depressed I was, but it was all put down to teenage blues. ‘You’ll be alright once your hormones settle down,’ I was told more than once.  I remember my nan telling me I would miss going to school when I was older and so far she’s been proven wrong.  

[kittenfemme27]

Genshin Impact

Breath of the Wild was a game I wanted to love. I love the Zelda games, always have, and I eat up open world games like candy. Yet, BoTW has sat on my digital shelf collecting digital dust for ages. Why is that? Well, to put it simply, I don't want to play as Link. BoTW has a beautiful world, rich combat and game play puzzles, tons to see and do and experience, it's a sandbox for the ages. But it's hampered so heavily for me by the fact that I have to play this very boring and to be honest kind of forgettable boy named Link during the game play. That may sound petty, but if I'm in an open world game I want to fully immerse myself into that and video games are where we all go to escape anyway. If I wanted to be misgendered, I'd simply forget to shave and go outside.

I don't mind playing other Zelda games because in those, Link is a self contained character in the world and they're relatively short and self contained games. But BoTW is a sandbox. And for a large majority of it, you're not going to be doing the story or being addressed as link. The size of the world and the sheer amount of hours you're going to put into it mean that for almost all intents and purposes, Link isn't Link, he's a faceless avatar that you're supposed to put yourself into. The game offers so much freedom in so many avenues and yet, in your choice of how to explore the world as someone you'd actually like to be, you're not allowed. You have to be a skinny blonde twink.

So, in late 2019, in comes a trailer for Genshin Impact. It's making its rounds on the Internet as a "PC Free to Play Gacha Breath of the Wild Clone" which, while a mouthful, was something I initially wrote off. Didn't see a point in checking it out, as I really don't like Gacha games very much. But in late September 2020, MiHoYo the developers released the public 1.0 build of the game to everyone. Multi-platform, too. iOS/Android, PC, PS4, and even a switch release down the line. And maybe its the pandemic, or maybe the Internet was simply too lured in by the cute anime girls, but it took the many by storm. It took me personally over 12+ hours to download the 11 gigs of the game because the servers were so swamped with people.

Now I do want to be clear: Genshin Impact borrows many things from BoTW, but it isn't a clone. It's not a sandbox in the same way BoTW is and aside from some general game play things such as gliders, stamina/wall climbing system, and general aesthetic, the games are massively different. Still, though, playing it has highlighted to me why I never felt quite right playing BoTW, and its that lack of freedom. That lack of ability to play the game on my own terms and explore the beautiful handcrafted world the way I want to. 

Despite appearances, Genshin Impact is a lot more like a single player MMO than it is anything else. Requiring tons of farming and grinding to create high level powerful characters in a world that gets increasingly more powerful and hostile as you do. The core game play loop of Genshin Impact is pretty phenomenal, essentially giving you a massive world to explore with literally thousands upon thousands of chests and rewards to find. Either by clearing out enemies, doing random in world puzzles, or even just sitting around. Being inside of and exploring the world of Teyvat is as rewarding as it is beautiful. The art and animation design of the game are stellar and do a lot to make you forget how much time has passed since you booted up the game in the first place. There's tons of different lore books to find, NPC's to talk to, quests to complete, the world is chock-full of lore and world building even down to simple weapon and material descriptions. Teyvat is a wonderful place to be and the developers MiHoYo deserve a pat on the back for how good the world of Genshin Impact is. The other side of game play is a simple system of Character Progression where you farm materials to make your characters/weapons/abilities better so that you can farm even more materials from harder enemies, much like an MMO, and you also acquire gear called Artifacts with randomly rolled stats much like an ARPG. In that regard, Genshin Impact is highly addictive. There are a myriad of weapons, talents, artifacts, and characters all to level up and build up over the course of your play, and every character can be made viable very very easily. The game also lets you keep a party of 4 characters that you can swap between at any point, as well as each character being attuned to a specific Elemental Type that reacts to other Elements. This causes the end-game to be centered around doing some of the hardest dungeons the game has to offer by theory crafting incredibly powerful teams that work off of each other and cause Elemental Reactions in enemies. It’s some of the most fun i’ve had in a game in ages.

All of that is fantastic but unfortunately its all also held back by one simple, huge problem: Original Resin. The game uses a currency called Original Resin that you use to challenge the harder content in the game. Dungeons, World Bosses, Elite Weekly Bosses, you name it and if its end-game content, it likely costs Resin. And not in insignificant amounts either. Dungeons are 20, Bosses are 40, and Weekly Bosses are 60. So, how do you obtain this material? Time. You start with, and are capped, at 120(Later 160 in patch 1.1). 1 resin takes 8 minutes to get back. If you spend it all, it takes 16 hours to get back. Given the rates you spend it, you can go from 120 to 0 in roughly 10-15 minutes. With no way to increase the resin cap, and the incredibly slow acquisition rate, that frequently means you only have about that much playtime a day of the game in the endgame. And that's, needless to say, incredibly frustrating. Thankfully its not an entire stamina system that means you can't play the game at all when you're out of resin, but it does mean that character progression itself is gated as all upgrade/progression materials are locked behind these dungeons and bosses that you must use Original Resin to face. Effecitvely, this means single characters will become weeks and weeks of work, with weapons and artifacts being only slightly less time consuming. I can only hope MiHoYo is looking to change this system in a way that isn't just increasing the cap as the feedback they've received has been very negative regarding it, but only time will tell.

Unfortunately, this isn't the games only problem with its players either. The game is a Gacha, there is no getting around that, but despite the fact that pretty much any character can become massively overpowered and viable in the endgame, people are going to want the rarest characters that exist. This is by design and unfortunately is more or less a glorified gambling system. And while the game is quite nice with its premium currency and how often it gives it, what isn't nice is that the rarest “5-star”characters cost a minimum of 200$ to get through money. With no guarantee you're getting the one you want.

Worse still, outside of a guaranteed 5-star drop at 90 rolls on the gacha wheel, the chance for a 5-star weapon or character is 0.6%. Not even a whole rounded up 1%. This is frankly ridiculous, as is the cost of real money to premium currency. For reference, most other popular Gacha’s doing well offer their rarest characters at anywhere between a 1-6% rate. In general, gacha's aren't known to be kind in their rates. That’s the point, they want you to gamble with real money. Genshin Impact, however, is so unkind and unfair that even other regular players of gacha gamers are very, very vocally upset. If it wasn't for the game play loop and the world, I'm not sure this would fly. And its certainly not flying in the west with the crowd that doesn't play Gacha's nearly as much. Neither is the resin system, as gamers in the west typically want to play for hours and hours at a time.

I’d be remiss if i didn’t bring up the story in Genshin Impact, as it’s genuinely fantastic. As previously stated, the world has a metric tonne of hidden lore in books, weapon/item/artifact descriptions, character stories you unlock as you use a playable character, etc. But the main story you can currently play from start to finish in the 1.0 release is the prologue.

This prologue stars very simply: Your character, the “Traveler” is an alien from another world. Not much is known about them so far, other than that the Traveler and their sibling were people with the ability to hop between worlds at will. In the opening moments of the game this power, along with your sibling, are stolen from you by an unnamed assailant. Thus trapping you in Teyvat and leaving you to begin a journey to find the Seven Gods of Teyvat, simply known as “The Seven” and seek their power and wisdom to find your sibling and potentially leave. This journey is how you meet Venti, one of the Seven in disguise as a simple human bard, and his best friend Dvalin. The events that follow have you help this strange bard, as well as the people of Mondstat, defeat the dragon Dvalin. Previously, he protected the lands of Mondstat for hundreds of years. However, as you meet both Dvalin and Venti, he has had his mind corrupted and been lied to by an order of evil mages known as the Abyss Order, and its caused him to go on the offensive against Mondstat and her people.

It's a fair bit emotional, humorous at times thanks to Venti, and overall very engaging. Mondstat is a city built on freedom, to the point that its own god Barbatos(Venti) refuses to rule over it and allows himself to be the weakest of the seven gods, as that would take away some of the cities freedom. Within this prologue, there is a huge focus on Mondstat being a city of Freedom, the prologue quite literally ends with Venti telling Dvalin after you have saved him from the corruption that even though he is "meant" to be the protector of Mondstat, he hopes Dvalin chooses whatever life he wants, even if that's not Mondstats protector, and that Venti simply wants him to be happy. Venti's own personal story quest goes further in depth about the foundation of Mondstat and its origins as a rebel city founded after the citizens overthrew the oppressive rule of an awful tyrant God and killed him. In a very pretty hand drawn "cathedral window" style cutscene, you get to see the end of this war and why Barbatos chose the form he currently inhabits and took up being a bard, which was to honor a dead friend from this very same war. This explains why Mondstat and Barbatos value its freedom so highly. I cried at this moment both times I played it.

For a free game, the storytelling here is off the charts. As i said before, Venti and many other characters have personal stories that both introduce you to a trial version of the playable character, thus letting you see how they work and play, and also giving you either more info on the world or an introduction to the character in question, or both. They're fantastic little stories and are up there with the main story in quality. One of my favorite parts of the game and something that will only be expanded with time. Each one takes you on a journey of discovery or even simple fun with a character and it all feels very personal and touching, as all of the main stories and character quests are very well voice acted.

The prologue being so focused on freedom makes it all the more awkward, then, that MiHoYo is a game developer based out of China, and as such has to follow China's censorship rules. Taiwan and Hong Kong both are censored in-game chat and if you're reported for saying them, you'll be banned for daring to speak the words. These aren't the only censorship decisions in the game, but they're by far the ones that struck me the most. I understand that the company is based out of China and thus has to follow the censorship rules, as they are the actual law of the land and they could be fined or even shut down if they refused. But the disconnect of knowing there are actual human rights atrocities being committed in China with the Uygher Genocide and Re-Education camps, the human rights violations in Hong Kong, the breakdown of democracy and the treatment of Taiwan, while this game that comes out of China boasts on and on about Freedom and the Human right to self actualize and choose their future is... troubling. It's one that I don't really know how to reconcile, if it can be reconciled at all. I'd like to believe that the developers really believe in their own story and secretly oppose those sorts of atrocities. But at the same time, banning players who mention Hong Kong or Taiwan isn't in the law. That’s a decision MiHoYo is making. Right now, China doesn’t have the freedom that Venti and Mondstat and Genshin Impact try to instill in you so hard as important and a human right. And knowing that and knowing the censorship is in the game make it very difficult to get a read on what the game actually wants you to feel.

Overall,i think Genshin Impact is a fantastic game. Its updates plan to bring in not only more story, as there are meant to be 7 Acts and currently the game features the Prologue and half of Act 1, but in those acts it plans to explain the playable areas and bring in new Events, Characters, Weapons, etc. And that makes me excited for the future of Genshin Impact! It’s a beautiful game of genuinely Triple AAA quality completely for free. But. Its also a Gacha game and by far one of the least rewarding Gachas you could play right now. Maybe that will change with time. I certainly hope it does. But it feels hard to recommend something that, once you beat it, disrespects your time so much and so badly. I hope Genshin Impact has a bright future, I really do, and I’m definitely going to continue playing it. But right now, I can’t say for certain that I feel confident in the developers to make it the game it clearly wants to be if it wasn’t shackled down by its Gacha.