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zosonils-art · 4 years ago

Link

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Relationship: Ferb Fletcher & Phineas Flynn

Characters: Ferb Fletcher, Phineas Flynn, Perry the Platypus (Phineas and Ferb), Linda Flynn-Fletcher

Additional Tags: Autistic Ferb, Autistic Phineas, autistic phineas is more implied and could also be taken as adhd but he has both anyway so, Autistic Meltdown, Autism, Sensory Overload, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Illustrations, Canon Continuation, Fix-It of Sorts, i think????? i don't frequent this goddamn website i don't know, Brotherly Love, Crying, some of the crying is me

Summary: A stressful day pushes Ferb past his breaking point, and Phineas feels that he has a responsibility to set things right. Takes place immediately after Ready For The Bettys. Was supposed to be a simple continuation fic but got wildly out of hand. Ph*n*rb shippers fuck off this isn't for you.

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as you’ve probably figured out if you’re following my main, i recently wrote my first fic since i was about 13! it’s available on ao3 at the link above, but you can also read it on tumblr by clicking the readmore on this post! i put a lot of effort into this and it took a lot of courage to post, so feedback is greatly appreciated!

"Mom! Guess what Ferb did!"

Phineas bursts into the kitchen energetically, still buzzing with adrenaline from the day's adventure. Ferb follows a step or two behind. Linda turns her attention from the freshly baked pie in her hands to her sons, although Phineas is too beside himself with excitement to consider whether or not she's paying attention. "He made a secret tunnel, and a spy headquarters, and a villain's lair, and a hover jet shaped like Perry- tell her, Ferb!"

Ferb doesn't match Phineas' enthusiasm. In fact, at the moment, he's sick to death of it. He prepares to launch into the explanation he's been trying all day to give. "Actually, I-"

"Wait a second," Linda interrupts, eyeing the boys with suspicion. "Why are you two soaking wet?"

The interruption is just too much for Ferb. He doesn't even process the question, just lets out a harsh shout of frustration. Phineas recoils - Ferb almost never shouts. "I give UP!" Ferb yells, his voice shaking on the last syllable, and before either of his surprised family members can respond, he turns around and storms off, his destination betrayed by the distinct clunking rhythm of stairs being stomped on too hard and the sound of a door slamming upstairs.

For a moment, the kitchen is silent. Linda recovers before Phineas does, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Young man, that is not how we talk to each other in this house!" she calls, setting the pie tin and her oven mitts down on the kitchen counter and following Ferb's path to his room. Before she can make it to the doorway, though, her progress is halted.

"Mom, wait!" Phineas pleads. He's finally caught onto what's been going on all day, and although he's still only half processed it, he knows he doesn't want Ferb to be in trouble for it. He frantically tugs on Linda's arm to draw her attention. Once he's sure that she's stopped, he withdraws his hand (he's still wet, after all, he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable), but sidesteps around her to put his tiny body firmly between her and the doorway to the living room. "Mom, please don't be mad at Ferb, it- it's not his fault! I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, he's just..." Phineas' voice trails off briefly, but he forces it back into action, complete with the most serious expression he can manage. "If you're gonna be mad at either of us, it should be me, okay?"

At first, Linda returns Phineas' gaze with suspicion, then her face softens with realisation. She crouches down to her son's eye level, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Phineas, did something else happen today?" she asks, the anger gone from her voice.

Phineas hesitates, dropping eye contact again. He's almost certain about the cause of Ferb's outburst, and he can't help but mentally beat himself up for it to a degree. "Well, Ferb's been trying to tell me something all day, but he kept getting interrupted by our spy mission, and I guess it must have been really frustrating because he hates being interrupted but I didn't realise and-" he pauses to breathe, and shudders as he inhales as if on the verge of tears - "and I should have asked at some point but I just kept getting distracted and I didn't even realise how upset it was making him but-"

"Phineas," Linda says gently, and he gladly accepts the invitation to cut his rambling short. His breathing is shaky, but he doesn't cry just yet, even though his emotional state has nosedived in barely a minute. After giving him a moment to snap back into focus, Linda continues. "Phineas, honey, it sounds like this has just been a misunderstanding. On my end, too," she adds, regretting having snapped at Ferb earlier. Phineas nods with a nondescript mumble of agreement. Although he still obviously isn't looking, Linda gives him a reassuring smile anyway, accompanied by a gentle squeeze of his shoulder. "Thank you for telling the truth, sweetheart," she praises him.

"Mmh," Phineas mumbles, tugging at his shirt collar. He tends to fiddle with his shirt when he's nervous or overexcited. It doesn't hold a candle to bouncing his leg or flapping his hands, as far as stimming goes, but it's a lot easier to do while someone is touching you. "I just should've realised what was up earlier, then he probably wouldn't have freaked out..."

He finally glances up again, and the look his mom is giving him tells him that he should drop the argument, so he stops. Linda ruffles his hair affectionately, leaning forward to reach all the way behind Phineas' oddly-shaped head, and flinches at the unpleasant reminder of how waterlogged he still is. She stands up, flicking her hand dry. "I'm sure he knows you didn't mean to hurt his feelings," she reassures Phineas. "Why don't you dry yourself off and then go talk to him? Which reminds me," Linda motions towards the puddles tracked all over the kitchen floor, "why are you two so wet?"

"Oh, we fell in Isabella's pool," Phineas answers matter-of-factly. He isn't quite back to his usual blindingly sunny disposition, but the panicky tremble in his voice has at least disappeared.

Linda smiles, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, that I believe," she says. She'd tactfully decided not to comment on whatever that secret spy headquarters spiel was that Phineas had been getting worked up over, but she suspects his latest imaginary game took the boys to Isabella's backyard and ended up having some real-life consequences. "Oh, hi, Perry," she adds, as the platypus in question waddles into the kitchen.

Perry responds with his familiar chatter. Phineas leans down to pet Perry on the head. "At least you've had a stress-free day, huh," he says, then leaves for the bathroom. Perry stares at him blankly.

---

Ferb is having a meltdown.

He knows what this is, of course. He reads every textbook and blog post on the subject he can find, just in case it helps him make some more sense of himself. If he misses one, Phineas will no doubt have found and memorised it himself for the same reason, and will gladly rattle off anything new. Knowing why there's a raging storm beating at the inside of his head, however, is entirely different from quelling it. By the time he reaches his bedroom, he's trembling so violently that he can barely stand. He stumbles to his bed, pushing his hands down into the mattress to keep himself on his feet.

It's like feeling every feeling from every second of the day all in the same moment, and it hurts. So much is happening in his head that he can't even isolate a single thought, let alone process what it means. Is he angry? That'd make sense, sure, but his mental state isn't exactly conducive to deductive reasoning at the moment. Is he sad? Scared? Something else entirely?? He can't tell what emotion or mixture thereof it is, only that it's hurting his head, and he wants to get it out but he doesn't know how. He's struggling to breathe now, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping his body supported, and as he draws in a desperate shuddering breath Ferb feels something wet in his eye and then on his face, and he remembers that his entire body is wet and he hates it. It's cold, and his hair is sticking to his face and uncomfortably close to his eyes, and his clothes cling to his body oppressively and he wants to tear them off and stop feeling everything. Instead of doing that, he forces himself to breathe in again and looks around the room frantically, hoping to find something other than absolutely everything to concentrate on.

His eyes land on Phineas' bed, and although his vision is blurring as the panicky tears pour down his face, he recognises the shape instantly. Is he mad at Phineas? Should he be? He should be, right? If Phineas had just stopped to listen to him for once, he wouldn't be here with the world ending inside his brain. Another violent wave of emotion sends a shock through his whole body, and Ferb is still in no state to identify it, but he gets the message. He doesn't want to be angry. Not at Phineas. In fact, he doesn't want to feel anything he's feeling at the moment. Not the turbulent assault of everything inside his head, not the hammering rhythm of his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, not every tiny thing that touches his skin or the light from outside that still feels blinding through the curtains or the muffled sounds of conversation downstairs that he doesn't have room in his brain to translate into anything but more noise.

Sensory overload is another term Ferb knows, and it's another one that doesn't really help to know in the moment. The feeling of anxiety that's been growing in his chest since that morning finally becomes too much for his body to handle, and he collapses on his bed, weakly gripping the blanket for support. Burying his face in his covers blocks out most of the sunlight, at least, but it doesn't significantly improve his mood. He shivers, partly from cold thanks to still being uncomfortably wet, partly from the sobs making his whole body convulse. (When did those start? He doesn't remember.) He uses the last of his physical strength to pull himself fully onto his bed and curl into himself, trying desperately to calm himself down.

...

It's not working. Why isn't it working?? It's as if every effort to steady his breathing just makes him cry harder, every attempt at a calming thought being shattered into a thousand anxious ones by the merciless torrent of everything whirling around in his mind. Ferb is suddenly hyper-aware of how empty the room around him is, and it makes him feel helpless. It's the first feeling he's managed to connect a name to with absolute certainty this whole time, and it's terrifying.

If he was making any noise before in his attempts to control his breathing, he's stopped now. No sound escapes him as he lies in place, too preoccupied with the overwhelming barrage of thoughts in his brain to move. More than anything, Ferb wants his brain to just shut off. Everything in his mind blends into a horrible white noise that won't stop, threatening to drown him in static.

Through the raging mental cyclone, he just barely hears the knock at the door.

Phineas waits a moment before entering his room. He wants to make sure Ferb has time to process that he's here. A few seconds pass, then he opens the door slowly so that it doesn't make any sound. A stab of guilt hits him when he sees Ferb curled up on his bed, visibly distressed. He's facing the opposite wall, but the way he shudders as he breathes makes it obvious that he's crying. Phineas feels his heart sink. He'd really hoped it wouldn't be this bad.

"Hey," he says softly. Ferb grips himself tighter. Just a minute ago, Phineas would have been the last person he wanted to see, but now his desperation for comfort outweighs any lingering hints of animosity. He doesn't object to his brother's presence, so Phineas gently closes the door and walks over to his side of the room. He sits on the bed, watching Ferb to see if he reacts negatively to the shift in weight distribution, and tenses up slightly at how damp the blanket is. Of course, Ferb wouldn't have stopped to dry off on his way up here. A closer look confirms that while a lot of the water on his body has run off and soaked into his bed, Ferb is still almost as wet as he was when he arrived home. Phineas frowns - that can't be comfortable, and it's probably making him feel even worse. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Ferb curls into himself even more instead of asking. The question is so frustratingly rhetorical that he almost reconsiders the possibility of being angry, but the idea still scares him, so the feeling passes. Fortunately, Phineas understands the unspoken 'obviously not' with no further input, and continues to talk. "I'm really sorry about today," he begins. "I know you don't like being interrupted, and I should've realised that it was making you feel bad but I just wasn't paying enough attention and- and I'm sorry, because it's kinda my fault you got so upset," he apologises, not realising that he's holding back tears until he stops to breathe. He wills himself not to cry. He's here to try and make Ferb feel better, not guilt him into forgiveness.

It takes a second or two for Ferb to process what Phineas is saying. It's a struggle to drag the words through the confusing whirlwind of everything still rampaging through his head. Eventually, after a great deal of mental effort, he shakes his head in response. Perhaps he was angry before, he still can't tell, but he definitely isn't now. He can't manage anything beyond the simple gesture, but it's not the first time he's been utterly uncommunicative, so Phineas understands the meaning as well as he needs to: it's not your fault.

"Th-thanks," he stutters, although Ferb's acceptance does little to settle the crushing feeling of responsibility. "Next time you can speak I'll let you tell me whatever it is you needed to, okay? I promise." He smiles a little. "No more secret agent business to interrupt you."

The last sentence sure prompts a reaction from Ferb - he rolls over so that his face is entirely buried in the blanket and makes a frustrated noise without opening his mouth, his body shaking with some mixture of anger and physical strain. Phineas inhales sharply and recoils, no more prepared for an audible outburst from Ferb than the first time. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, already speed-testing possible answers in his head. "Did you not have fun today? Of- of course you didn't, that's why you're upset, but I thought you did a great job on the spy mission! It was really cool." He's trying to be reassuring, but Ferb just shakes harder, seemingly becoming more aggravated rather than less.

Phineas tilts his head in confusion. "Ferb? Ferb, it's okay, I-I'm sorry. Did... did it not go the way you planned?" he guesses, searching increasingly frantically for any change in Ferb's body language. "Hmm... oh, were you not finished building it yet?" He thinks back to Ferb's numerous attempts at speaking to him throughout the day, hoping that he'll find some clue that makes everything fall into place - and something clicks in his brain. He deflates a little at how painfully obvious the realisation seems in retrospect, with a soft "Oh." Sighing at his own ignorance, he directs his voice to Ferb again as he says, "You didn't actually build all that, did you?"

Ferb sits up slowly and turns to Phineas with his signature deadpan glare, the silent, biting sarcasm undermined significantly by the tears still falling from his eyes. Phineas hums concernedly. "Is that what you were trying to tell me?" he asks. Ferb gets partway through rolling his eyes before giving up and returning to the fetal position.

Phineas sighs sadly. He hates seeing his brother cry. There's nothing he wants to do more than pull him into the tightest hug he can manage, but he knows Ferb won't appreciate being touched in this state, so he opts to fiddle with his shirt again to keep his hands busy. "Who do you think did build that stuff?" he asks. Ferb doesn't care. On any other day, a secret spy lair being hidden under his house would be cause for immeasurable excitement, but after the day's events he's thoroughly sick of thinking about the subject. Phineas picks up on Ferb's antipathy towards the question and, sensing that it might be a sore topic for some time, decides not to bring it up again for a while. He'll satisfy his curiosity sometime when it doesn't come at the expense of Ferb's comfort.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the boys. It's broken when Ferb suddenly sniffles loud enough to make Phineas jump, sits up again, and halfheartedly tries to wipe the tears from his face. "Oh geez, hold on," Phineas says, leaning over to rummage through his short pockets. He eventually pulls out a wad of tissues, somehow unaffected by the earlier impromptu dive into Isabella's pool. He offers them with a gentle "here you go" to Ferb, who takes a few silently and scrubs at his eyes.

While he still doesn't feel good by any stretch of the definition, Ferb at least doesn't feel completely awful anymore. What was once a violent hurricane in his mind has receded enough that he can focus on the world around him without breaking down, at least for the time being, and he's left feeling just drained. He balls up his handful of tissues and tosses them at the bin under his desk. The ball makes it to Phineas' leg before unceremoniously bouncing to a stop. Phineas picks it up and throws it the rest of the way to the trash, standing up to do so.

Rather than sit down again, he kneels down and pulls out one of the drawers conveniently built into the bed. Ferb watches inquisitively, still too out of it to immediately catch onto what's happening. Phineas rummages a little before finally pulling out a pair of pyjamas, suggesting, "You should dry off and change your clothes." He pauses to think. "Can you make it downstairs to the bathroom by yourself?" he asks. At any other time, it would be a silly question, but Ferb is always exhausted after a meltdown. The visible effort it's taking him just to stay upright isn't lost on Phineas. Ferb ponders the question, then gives a tentative nod. He's definitely shaky, but he really wants to change into something dry.

"Great!" Phineas smiles encouragingly. "Should I bring the usual stuff to the living room? Your bed's probably not gonna feel comfortable until it dries out." Ferb glances down at the unmistakable damp silhouette of where he had been lying earlier and nods again, more confidently. He slowly gets to his feet, first pushing against his bed for support, then grasping the hand Phineas offers him. He lets go once he's certain he's regained his balance, and only then does Phineas hand him his pyjamas. "I'll come meet you downstairs, okay?" Phineas says. Then, pulling at the bottom of his shirt, which is still a bit soggy despite his best efforts to towel it off, he adds, "I should probably change into something dry as well."

---

Ferb rubs his eyes as he comes out of the bathroom, his drenched clothes swapped out for his much more comfortable pyjamas. He's stopped crying, it seems, but he's still feeling sensitive enough that the light from outside bothers him. He's relieved to discover that it's much darker in the living room - Phineas must have been here already. The curtains are drawn so that the lamp on the end table is the only light source in the room, softly illuminating its surroundings with a pleasant warm glow. He doesn't have the energy to analyse the entire room, even in these far more bearable conditions, but his attention is drawn to his favourite weighted blanket folded neatly on the couch. He sits down and drags the blanket over him, struggling a bit with the weight, but relaxing once he feels its reassuring pressure on his legs.

It's as he's settling into his position on the couch that Phineas enters with an "Oh, there you are, Ferb!". Perry is firmly but comfortably wedged under one of his arms, like a fuzzy teal football or loaf of bread, and seems altogether unbothered by his position. Ferb gasps quietly at the sight of Perry, his eyes brightening momentarily, and reaches out for him with various soft noises of urgency. Phineas wastes no time in setting Perry down next to Ferb, and the platypus reacts with a gentle, almost soothing chatter. Ferb instinctively mimicks the sound under his breath, and Perry responds with a nearly identical noise. Ferb echoes it again, slightly louder this time, and his face lights up with a weak smile, the first one he's managed all day.

Taking this as a sign of progress, Phineas sighs with relief as he sits on the sofa. He makes sure to maintain a respectful distance from Ferb, who's running a hand through Perry's fur as they echo the same low growling noise back at each other. (It pains Phineas not to join in, but he senses the two have gotten themselves into a groove that would be rude to interrupt.) Ferb's smile fades almost as soon as it appears, but he seems much more relaxed after the change in clothes and scenery. His hair is sticking up in every direction from being towelled dry, and Phineas stifles a laugh at how silly it looks. The back-and-forth chattering eventually dies down, and it's only then that Phineas continues. "Mom's gonna make you some tea, and she says if you aren't feeling better by dinner you can eat in here if you want," he says. Ferb turns to him and raises a thumbs-up briefly before returning his hand and focus to Perry.

Phineas quietly watches his brother for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want me to stay?" he asks. Exactly how sociable Ferb is while he's coming out of a meltdown varies. He almost invariably needs some time on his own to mentally reset, but sometimes it helps if someone he trusts is there to reassure him for a while first. In Phineas' experience, asking is always the best way to tell.

Ferb hesitates for a second, then surprises both of them with his answer, which is to turn and collapse into Phineas' lap with one arm hooked over his legs in a sort of pseudo-hug. Phineas tenses up, not sure how to react. He cautiously puts an arm around Ferb, in a comforting gesture that doesn't fully subject him to the overwhelming sensory experience of a true hug. Ferb doesn't fight it, just repositions himself so that he's lying down with Phineas as a makeshift pillow and sinks further into the gentle embrace. Phineas laughs softly. "Okay, I guess you do."

This is nice, Ferb thinks. Definitely an improvement over violently sobbing alone in his room. Perry must be feeling relaxed too, because he climbs onto Ferb's stomach, circles a few times, lets out one more chatter, then flops down and goes to sleep, purring gently. Phineas giggles at the platypus' behaviour, and Ferb's shoulders shake in silent laughter - his blanket absorbs enough of the sensation that it just tickles. Watching Perry doze off reminds him that he's still exhausted, despite the positive change in environment, and his attempt to stifle a yawn fails. He's still on high alert, and he knows he won't be sleeping for longer than a few minutes until the emotional clutter completely drains from his mind. With that said, both the blanket and Perry weighing down on him make for a pretty cosy combination, and he finds himself fighting to keep his eyes open. Maybe just a moment of rest will be good for him.

Before he knows it, his eyes are closed, and he's powerless to prevent himself from drifting off. Phineas accepts his new career as a pillow without comment, simply adjusting his right hand so that both his arms are positioned protectively around his brother. Being trapped in place for the time being doesn't worry him. Ferb won't mind being stirred awake when their mom arrives with his tea, and until then Phineas can easily occupy himself with thoughts of what to do tomorrow. Besides, he can subject himself to a few minutes of quiet if that's what Ferb needs. What kind of a brother would he be if he couldn't, right?

Ferb half-consciously brings a hand to Phineas' wrist, as if it'll float off if he isn't holding on. He can feel his brain shutting down, and he welcomes the change. The last thing he's aware of before his consciousness finally leaves him in peace for a moment is the sound of Phineas' voice, promising him, "You're gonna be okay."

#zos writes #phineas and ferb #ferb fletcher #phineas flynn #won't tag perry or linda since they're side characters basically #anyway please for the love of god reblog this. links don't show up in tags so literally the only way people will see this is reblogs #i'm serious about the fuck off too if ph*n*rbs even LOOK at this post i will stomp you to death with my hooves

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spudinacup · 5 years ago

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Spinels Character Analysis:

Now that the comic has caught up to this point I can go on a bit of a tangent here and rant about my logic behind Spinels progression through the first seven pages of the SU AU Gone Wrong comic.

Let's dive right in then, shall we?

Spinel’s Character Break Down and Emotional Complexity:

This is gonna be one hell of a long rant so putting Readmore here.

[This isn’t proofread so if there are grammar or spelling mistakes we’ll all have to live with them]

Spinel as a character is rather complex and predictably unpredictable in how she reacts to situations. In Pixar, they have a concept they like to refer to as the spine of the character. This is the basis of who they are and will drive all their decisions throughout the story. A prime example of this is Woody; his spine is to protect his kid and ultimately get back to him. This drives every one of Woody’s decisions. By being separated from Andy he feels that he will be hurt by his absence and as such seeks out a solution to this dilemma. As a whole, Spinel’s spine, so to speak, is rooted in her insecurity; more specifically her insecurity around rejection. It’s part of what made her so appealing to the fanbase and also to the viewers of the film. It almost seemingly justifies her murderous intent and ability to cause such havoc and devastation.

When looking at the concept of insecurity and abandonment you’ll find articles referring to child abandonment syndromes. TMI moment; but I was abandoned by my genetic parents and have an unfortunately extensive understanding of the sensations revolving around this kind of trauma. Spinel in many ways was a child for Pink, she was a playmate. This doesn’t imply that she had any maternal connection to Spinel but if you compare her situation to that of a child dealing with this kind of neglect it aligns very similarly. Spinel did not choose to be made, she was born into Pink’s service and felt that was her world. She revolved around Pink and was there to please her whims. She was immature yes, but so is a child.

In an article by Lynne Namka titled, “The Many Causes of Feelings of Insecurity and Abandonment,” she analyzes the impacts and results of this kind of abandonment.

“Some abandonment issues can be related to physical security and fears of survival of the physical body. Rejected children can fear annihilation if their emotional and physical needs are not met. The external rejection and lack of love are internalized by the child along with beliefs of being unworthy, undeserving and unlovable. These children can grow up to become jealous and insecure in their relationships.”

Everyone at some point in their lives has felt tossed aside or dejected by society or others and this drives home further that feeling of connection to this character. It as a rather smart choice for the Crewneverse to go ahead with such a character archetype considering the themes of forgiveness and friendship in Steven Universe.

The problem with a character that is based so heavily around the concept of rejection is their reactions upon being confronted by it. We see this demonstrated in the film through each of Spinel’s actions. This sensation of being left behind is strong enough that even while dealing with amnesia and being rejuvenated to an earlier state the emotional trauma still rears its ugly head in the form of aggression.

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Upon arriving at Earth in the film Spinel proclaims that she is there to kill Steven Universe and even continues to state in the concluding scene that:

“You know I came here to take my anger out on a bunch of strangers, but now that I know you... I want to kill you even more.”

This again coincides with the concept of Abandonment Rage. To quote another article of the same name from Lynne Namka:

“Blind rage often comes out of the anxiety and terror of being left behind. Domestic violence expert Donald Dutton defines abandonment rage by saying, “Rage often comes after fears of feeling abandoned and helplessness. A child is made furiously angry by a parent’s threats to desert him but on the other hand, he does not express that anger in case it makes the parent actually do so….the anger of a parent becomes repressed and directed at someone else later on.” Repressed anger then becomes displaced or put on someone else after frustration builds up to a boiling-over point.”

This is the progression of Spinel’s character arch prior to reaching Steven. She has had this melting pot of anger boiling inside of her festering and mixing into a whirlwind of hate and repressed frustrations. Spinel is experiencing a catathymic crisis, a term coined by the Forensic Psychologist J. Ried Meloy. To put it simply, its where the individual's anger becomes a catharsis for feelings of vulnerability. Its a moment of disconnect from one’s logic and instead allows their actions to be driven by this anger lacking any logical perceptions or thought behind it. Webster's definition is as such: an unexpected explosive outburst of impulsive often destructive behavior understandable only in terms of unconscious motivation

So now that we know where her head was at before confronting Steven, what happened after she killed him?

The Impact of Steven’s Death:

Spinel’s actions with the rejuvenator are rash, fast, and not well thought out. There’s been a few great analysis on Tumblr that follow this line of thought.

As a whole, Spinel is playing with the Crystal Gems but her aim is true with her weapon. When she strikes down Amethyst, Garnet, and Pearl its with a single slash straight through the middle, it's effective. What better place could you aim to cause immediate results? On the slim, and probably impossible but work with me here, chance that it didn’t work immediately or at the very least didn’t poof them, there’s no walking away from that impact. It effectively disrupts their physical form and forces them to retreat into their gems.

The intention of the injuries inflicted on Steven follows this same kind of logic. Spinel was attempting to cause as much damage as possible as quickly as possible.

Steven Universe is Pink Diamond, she knows this, or at least he has what’s left of her. Diamonds are difficult to kill as we learned during Steven’s trial.

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So why was she trying?

In my opinion, it was because she was attempting to remove the obstacles that were in her way to being Pink’s friend. She was envious. Under all the hurt and misdirected anger, she still feels abandonment. While it may enrage her she still longs to be accepted and craves that solace of belonging again. Pink Diamond was her world, she was all she had, that absence has left a void that little can fill. We ultimately see this envy and desire manifest in the climax of the film as she fights Steven and ultimately crumbles under her own emotional state before the injector combusts.

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After removing the obstacles that are the other gems she turns her focus upon Steven. The rejuvenator would revert him back to a prior state. If it brought Pink back, great she’d have the source of her anger. If it reverted his powers and Pink was really gone? Fine, she’d be done with him soon enough. It wasn’t a logical decision, it was an emotionally driven and rash conclusion of her abandonment.

When she attack’s Steven her first blow takes off Steven’s arm. I wanted this to stand out to the viewer upon their viewing of the comic. It's drastic, impactful and leaves one unsettled by the sensation of having some ripped violently from their person. The arm is in many ways if you look between the lines, an analogy of P!Steven’s situation. He has been lopped off what made him whole and is only half of a person in his current manifestation. There is no way to efficiently reattach that limb with the flesh expiring in his arms.

The second of her attacks follow suit almost immediately following the amputation of Steven’s arm. She attempts to recreate the action she did with the Crystal Gems and cut him in half. Again, this being an efficient and fast way to destabilize him and poof the gem. However, Steven is half-human. So worked up by her own feelings of entitlement to the violence and grief Spinel is blind to the blood that flies from his injuries and only realizes what has happened once she can no longer swing wildly. The second blow ultimately was the fatal one while also what forces his gem out of his body. Amputates his gem, if you will.

Unshown in the comic is Spinel realizing something isn’t right however it was actually the first image I did for this AU shown here:

The rejuvenator becomes stuck within Steven’s torso, it doesn’t go all the way through him. This isn’t normal and gives Spinel’s mind enough time for her actions is starting to sink into her. With this comprehension comes with it the confusion of what she is seeing.

[-credit @thelostmoongazer for this illustration.] Spinel has never met a human. Spinel has never been to Earth. Spinel has no concept of what an organic is asides from the small critters from the garden she presumably spent her entire life within. She has been isolated, abandoned, and now she’s thrust into the world blinded with rage that has left her unable to perceive the vulnerabilities of the individual she is facing.

In this instance Spinel panics and throws her weapon aside alarmed by the strange liquid she now finds her body splattered with. She attempts to distance herself from the collapsing Steven, the atrocity she has just committed, and the expanding substance that gushed from his body's fractures.

Gem’s poof, that is our understanding of their forms being disrupted. The Crystal Gem’s had poofed, Steven, however, Steven hadn’t.

This is when Pink appears:

As a direct result of her attack upon Steven, P!Steven is given space and room to reform himself. This immediately puts Spinel in the position of not only feeling confusion and shock of the situation she’d put herself into as her temper begins to subside and she watches the pink glow overtake the field they stood within. There is a sensation, we’ve all felt it before, its the same one you feel when you get caught with your hand in the cookie jar by your parents. It isn't that she regretted her actions, its that she regretted being caught.

Not only right after it dawns on her that something is wrong but, as she assumes, the very person she’d been driven to this near insanity by.

She reverts a bit here, tries to resolve some of the issues with the newly reformed Pink. She tries to connect with them and apologize for what they were seeing, for what she had done. Underneath her resentment, she doesn't want to be hated by Pink, asides from that she is almost uncertain what she desires. All she knows in this situation is that things have not happened as they should have and now she has been caught.

It’s when P!Steven speaks to her however that a switch gets flicked. As I explained earlier in the post, Spinel fits rather well within the box of abandonment rage. She is a character-based within insecurity that reacts with aggression when she feels threatened as a way of protecting herself.

In these few short panels, P!Steven not only displays disapproval of her, but his change instance implies aggression immediately making her revert to a more defensive state.

This is what causes her change in tone and ultimately the change in her behavior. She is no longer remorseful because she was caught, she’s being rejected again, by the same gem again.

Adding a cherry on top, upon realizing that it wasn’t even who she perceived to be she feels tricked and made a fool of. Somehow, he wasn’t Pink. He hadn’t reverted into his beginning state, no, that pest that kept her from obtaining what she selfishly desired was still present. Her resentment for that craving boils back into her insecurities and feeds the explosive desires beneath it. Rather than apologizing further she takes hold of these emotional shelters and dives into what she feels the most comfortable with, her anger.

Which brings us to today’s page, where we see that beginning to be acted upon. Surely she can fix this, at the very least resolve that judgmental stare that lingers on her. She can make things better for herself.

She won’t let herself be rejected again.

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

Sources:

[Insecurity and Abandonment] [Abandonment Rage] [catathymic definition]

[SU AU Gone Wrong Comic Master Post]

#SU AU Gone Wrong #SU Gone Wrong #Steven Universe #character analysis #Spinel Character Break down #steven universe the movie #Spud speaks #long post #Spinel Abandonment #Trigger warning #TW: Character death #Tw: blood #Tw: stabbing #SU AU Gone Wrong Comic Analysis

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faranae · 4 years ago

Note

Why not buy from bad dragon? I've always heard they're a really good brand.

(WARNING: THIS POST IS NOT EXPLICIT, BUT DOES REFER TO NSFW THEMES WITH STERILE EDUCATIONAL TERMINOLOGY. PLEASE STAY WITHIN YOUR COMFORT LEVEL AND READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.)

Let me open by saying this particular brand of community drama is quite ancient at this point.

I was trying to be a bit tongue-in-cheek, but I should have said “do your research before buying from Bad Dragon” rather than making a blanket statement. The company may have made changes in recent years that I’m not aware of. While I as always welcome any corrections, please respect I have no intention of ending my boycott.

(There should be a readmore here! >:V Let me know if Tumblr breaks it!)

Bad Dragon, for those who aren’t aware, is a US adult entertainment company that designs and manufactures adult toys based on fantasy creatures. They are/were a bit unique. (Minors: This is one of those times where I’m going to just acknowledge you’ll probably Google it even if I politely ask you not to, which I am. At the least, please be safe with your internet browsing.)

Basically Bad Dragon was for a long time the brand when it came to this niche. They were the Kleenex of oversized adult fantasy toys in that everyone knew the name and associated it with that type of product. That is a very bad analogy in hindsight but I’m keeping it.

While BD does make some great products out of quality body-safe materials (what I’d normally judge such a company on), it’s not their products I take issue with. The company itself has some... Interesting prior experience regarding designs, theft, and lack of credit/compensation for artists among other very questionable practices.

DISCLAIMER: I’m going to keep these points somewhat short both to avoid triggering descriptions and so that if you want more information you’ll have to do some research. There are entire websites dedicated to information on BD, though the quality varies.

I’m not an expert source on this, just a consumer explaining the reasoning behind their choice to boycott. I’ll be double-checking a few things and adding events as I go to keep misremembering to a minimum. I will not be including any points that are not easily verifiable, so y’all can form your own opinions if you’re keen to research.

ABSOLUTES:

BD at one point sold and marketed an “adolescent” model. Self-explanatory why this squicked me out, I hope;

BD continues to sell multiple products based on children’s media;

BD owned and operated a user-run instructional site focused on “scientific” animal molestation. It was taken offline when it brought bad media to a new business venture;

For quite some time the product pages/measurements were set up in a very misleading and often inaccurate manner;

The ENTIRE Labs debacle, a program which BD used as a design and content farm, where they locked the program for months yet still claimed ownership of the designs submitted and sent legal action to artists for going elsewhere;

BD’s printing company has used source files to distribute prints without their clients’ consent;

ALLEGATIONS:

Multiple allegations of bestiality-related abuse practiced by company founders and owners, at least one of which may have had charges brought;

Multiple allegations of sexual assault regarding a former owner;

Multiple allegations of manufacturing products based on lifted designs from contests and forums without compensation or credit to the original artists;

Multiple allegations of employee mistreatment;

This isn’t extensive, and there’s a lot more accusations floating around out there than I thought while I was checking up on stuff.

The company may be doing a lot better nowadays! I don’t know, and at this point I don’t particularly care to look. I made my decision a while back and there are far more options out there who sell safe and ethical alternatives which are better in many ways. /endrant

#VAYOR #trigger warning #fandom drama #discourse #Anonymous #AskFara #thinkonthings

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foxtophat · 4 years ago

Link

HEY HEY HEY!!!! hey guys. haha. um, idk what to say exactly and tumblr likes to eat my posts so lets see how long this lasts:

its’ only been a couple months but i have been frothing at the mouth trying to figure out what next part of mercy to put out. i have a lot of much bigger stories to tell than this one, but kim and john sharing insomnia felt sort of like the right segue into those bigger bits. so for now, let’s just enjoy a 20k fic about Kim and John, and also a little about John and Nick, but mostly just about John and Jacob.

there are 3 chapters. i’ll post the 2nd one later this week (wednesday or friday i think) and the third will probably go up next monday. YEAH THAT’S RIGHT i actually have most of this one finished right out the gate!!!

as usual, i’ll put the entire chapter under a readmore in case you don’t want to leave tumblr. i hope you enjoy what i’ve got for you this time -- if not don’t worry, there will be more dramatic bullshit later :) comments, kudos, reblogs and likes are all the things that make ficwriting more fun than it already is, so consider helping me out if you enjoy what i’m doing. otherwise, have a good day!!!

Kim's dreams are normally composed of fleeting images in dark, monochrome colors. They're howling-wind nightmares or ethereal moments of peace, but they're short-lived and she's always disconnected from them. She hasn't had a real dream in probably nine years. She used to miss them, before John Seed reappeared with all of his night terrors, just in time to remind her of how good she has it. Now, she's glad that the most she has to contest with is a looming sense of dread that fades almost as soon as she wakes up.

But tonight, Kim is a long way away from all of that. She's standing at the kitchen sink in her childhood home, which is in full summer swing. The rosemary plant her mom keeps on the sill is in full bloom, thick green spikes dotted with blue puffball flowers. Beyond it, the Canadian sky is seawater green, and Kim marvels at the fluffy clouds drifting through the unnatural color. They seem to be floating by much faster than the still air outside would imply. It should rattle her, confuse her, but before that realization sinks in, her mom's voice distracts her away.

"Do you really think he's the one?" she asks, as skeptically as she had all those years ago when Kim first decided to move to Montana. Her mother had liked Nick, of course, because he was a likable guy, but Kim had known from the start that her parents were worried about her. They'd worried about her moving to a red state, about her trusting a man she'd seen a handful of times since they'd met. They hadn't understood the idea of purple pockets or internet dating, and while they supported Kim's love of rifle showmanship, they'd never trusted Nick owning more than three guns.

"What's the point, is all I'm asking," Kim's mom laughs in response to Kim's unspoken comment. "It seems strange to collect weapons..."

"Mom, he hunts !" she chides. "And anyway, he isn't the worst one out there."

"That's exactly what I worry about," her mom says. "What if something bad were to happen? His family is gone, and we'll be so far away..."

Kim sighs, the words stinging more than they should. The aqua colored sky begins to churn outside, the light filtering through a strange red haze. Inside, the sunlight reflects off the white counters, nearly blinding Kim.

"I'll be okay," she says, reciting an amalgamation of all her old defenses as her eyes readjust. "There are a lot of good people out there. They rely on each other a whole lot more than we do here."

"I worry about you, Kimiko. That's all." Her mother sighs sadly. "You'll understand when you have kids of your own."

"But mom..."

Kim tries to tell her that she already has a kid, but she can't muster up the words. After all, shouldn't she know? Wouldn't Kim have visited? Wouldn't she have brought Carmina into this very kitchen, all the surfaces glowing with light, and introduced them? Wouldn't her mom have been there when Carmina was born?

"It's unseasonably warm, isn't it," her dad remarks at the table. He's sitting there with a magazine as if he'd been there the whole time. He, like the rest of the room, glows from the inside, as though a flashlight were shining through his skin. It shines through the wood of the table, through her mom's curious smile, until Kim has to turn her face away. The room grows hotter and hotter, and in the far-off whistling wind she hears the first lonesome wail of an air-raid siren beginning to pick up. There's a blinding burst of light and howling wind, and Kim lifts her hands to her face, desperate not to look directly at the blast —

The bedroom is dark, warm and humid. At first, Kim doesn't know where she is, struggling to sit up, desperate to run, until all at once reality comes crashing back into focus. It doesn't help that she's pinned beneath Nick's arm and Carmina's full dead-sleeping weight.

Normally, moving would be out of the question. But Kim doesn't want this dream clinging to her memory, and she desperately wants to put some space between her and the nuclear glow of her mother's smile. Hell, maybe it isn't the dream at all — maybe it's the heat that's making lying here unbearable. Maybe it's the extra weight pinning her down, or a panic attack waiting in the wings — whatever it is, she needs to get up and run from it. As she worms her way out from underneath her family, Kim can feel the pressure building behind her eyes, fueled by the need to jog out the tension that will soon become unbearable. She needs to exercise the nightmare away before it sticks around and ruins the rest of her night.

It's probably already too late for that. The back of Kim's eyes are itchy with tears as she struggles to get free. She's already memorized her mom's smile, trapped forever in radioactive amber, and that alone is enough trauma to fuel ten more terrible dreams.

Nick and Carmina remain peacefully asleep, even as Kim extracts herself from the bed. That's good — the last thing she needs to do is worry Nick, whose own sleeping habits have just started to even out. He'll try to keep her company, and they'll just wind up keeping each other up, which wasn't ideal back in the day and definitely isn't ideal now .

Even though Carmina sleeps like the dead and Nick isn't likely to hear her, Kim is careful to watch out for the creakiest steps as she heads downstairs. Sunrise isn't for a few hours yet, but Kim isn't going to let that stop her from insomnia-pacing around her own home. It used to be that Kim would jog laps on the runway to clear her head, but that isn't going to work nowadays. She still wants to, of course; she's desperate to step out into the relatively cool night air and run herself ragged enough to pass out again, but that's out of the question. She's not about to break her own rule.

It's only once Kim is downstairs that she starts to relax, lighting one of the candles left out on the table. The light is just barely enough to see by, and Kim struggles to find something to clean up or organize in the half-dark. All of the coping mechanisms that got her through eight years of bunker living have fallen flat in the face of the apocalypse, but that doesn't keep her from trying them over and over again. Some techniques are more adaptable, but it isn't like she can dig into reorganizing the hangar for Nick at... whatever time it is now. Not without somebody catching her breaking her own rules about going outside alone.

If she had any books worth reading, she could throw herself into that, but she can't bear the manuals and children's books right now. Maybe if there was a radio station she could listen to... but no, she wouldn't want to risk burning out the radio after everything Nick and John went through to fix it. There's not going to be another Hail Mary when it comes to that kind of repair.

Her mom would probably use this time to make a series of endless lists. Grocery lists, to-do lists, lists of pros and cons for buying new appliances or inviting Kim's awful step-grandmother to her wedding... there was nothing that her mom couldn't organize into a column of bullet points or check-boxes. Kim could probably do with a few lists herself, but where is she supposed to get the paper? And even if a supply list wouldn't be a waste of resources, where would she go to fill it? It's going to be a while before they can pick up flour from the farmer's market again, that's for sure.

Well, at least wasting some paper will keep her mind busy. There's too much stuff they need, and she's going to drive herself crazy trying to remember all of it. Anyway, they've been using decades-old junk mail to prop up the radio desk — it can't be wasted if it was already trash, right?

She's careful in her search for a decent piece of mail, not wanting to tip the radio over as she jimmies a yellowed envelope from under the desk. It's only once she's back at the table with a worn-down nub of a pencil that she finds herself hesitating. After all, what is she supposed to write? What could they reasonably expect to get out here, with no supply chain to rely on? Everything that comes to mind is laughably improbable at best.

It doesn't really matter, though, does it? They're probably not going to be able to find anything besides what they can hunt and grow for themselves, so any food she writes down will be wishful thinking. John had offered to help their scavenging efforts, but it isn't likely they'll find working walkie-talkies or a new car. People who have been above ground longer than the Ryes have already taken over key resource points, and they'll be hard-pressed to give up things without a fair trade. And until they can reliably communicate with one another, trading is going to be nearly impossible. One day, maybe, they'll have trading posts and reliable supply chains, but like other pieces of their fractured society, that's not coming for a long time yet.

Staring at a blank piece of paper is worse than writing something stupid down, and so Kim quickly scribbles the word flour across the top of the envelope. She can't imagine that's going to be a reasonable expectation for a while, but at least it's on paper — and it's outlandish enough that it encourages her to continue, her thoughts darting between impossible dreams and honest reality. Salt , she thinks might not be quite as hard to find. Sugar, probably impossible. For now, they can hope for honey instead.

It goes on like that, growing more abstract as Kim lets herself dream. Milk, eggs, bread, twinkies , meat grinder, hamburgers, tomatoes, grains (seeds), grill (charcoal), gas, gas canisters (storage), duct tape, insulation foam (spray, sheet), toilet cleaner, toilet, hot water, plumbing, bathtub! , tarp, doors, ammunition, floodlights, security system, cans + string (security) —

Her flow is interrupted by a soft, distant thud somewhere upstairs. Kim listens for a few tense seconds, waiting to hear boots on the roof, the hiss of a walkie-talkie, or the slide-click of a gun being cocked. Without the cult, those fears go unrealized, and Kim slumps tiredly into her seat. She's just as paranoid about armed cultists tonight as she is about wild animals, although she's sure that's just her nightmare talking. Eden's Gate is nowhere near the threat it used to be.

The relief is short-lived, as is her solitude, when she hears an upstairs door click shut, followed by the sound of quick footsteps on the landing. The house is too old for any real attempt at stealth, but John tries to avoid the worst offending stairs on his way down. He only realizes Kim is there when he notices the candlelight, coming to an abrupt stop on the last step, one hand clutching the banister tight.

He's sweaty and out of sorts as he wipes his limp hair out of his face. "Oh," he rasps. "Kim."

He's surprised to see her. Kim should be surprised, too — it's one thing to know that John wanders the house at night, but it's another to see it happen in real-time. Honestly, she's barely phased by his appearance. John's sleep schedule has been bunker-erratic ever since Nick brought him home, and no amount of diurnal activity has managed to change it. If anything, Kim suspects he gets less sleep now than he did underground. It isn't for lack of trying, she's sure, but this isn't the first time she's heard him stumbling around in the dark. It's just the first time she's been in the same boat.

"Late night?" she asks.

John struggles once more with the hair in his eyes before giving up. "Just needed some air," he rasps, minding his volume. "Some water."

"Don't mind me," she replies, surprising herself with her own ambivalence. Knowing he moves around while they're sleeping is one thing, but seeing it should be upsetting. It should bother her when he avoids creaky floorboards on his way to help himself to their fresh water. It should make her angry to see him using their resources; at the very least, it should have upset her back when it began normalizing. But, honestly, it hadn't. Kim had just been relieved to see John acting like a person, and not just a haunted shell.

John wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, regarding Kim with deep uncertainty that Kim mostly makes out from his hunched shoulders and tense posture. He tries to hide just how lost he is, but Kim never misses it when he slips. It's not that she's sympathetic towards him, exactly, but she knows just enough about his history to want to pity him.

He doesn't speak, not even after the silence stretches out. Maybe he's waiting for her to make the first move?

The thought almost makes her laugh, but she still cuts him some slack. "Can't sleep either, huh?" she asks.

"Hardly ever," John replies, although he clearly isn't looking for reassurance. He takes a step away from the kitchen, hovering in the nebulous space between the table and the stairs. He's usually quick to leave Kim alone — quicker than he is with Nick, anyway — and so she appreciates the fact that he doesn't run now.

His voice cracks on its low pitch as he haltingly asks, "What are you doing?"

For just a second, Kim imagines giving John the cold shoulder and telling him it's none of his business. But the thought fades as quickly as it comes; it's replaced by the knowledge that John is just as dependent on the family's supplies as she is. Anything she needs, he'll also need. And besides, she's almost positive he'd been in control of the cult's supplies, which means he might have an idea of what they should realistically be looking for. He would know what the cult had planned to do, and she could probably translate that into useful advice.

"Just making a list," she sighs. It sounds stupid enough to make her wince, and she concedes with a joke, "You know, for the next time we're at Wal-Mart."

John huffs in amusement and approaches the table. Now that she's got an audience, Kim wants nothing more to do with the list, and so she pushes towards him before slumping back into her chair. Instead of the quick, distracted glance she had been expecting, John leans over to read it in full. The longer he reads, the more embarrassed Kim is of her late-night daydreaming, but he finishes with the list before she can grab it back.

"Some of these are... more manageable than others," he says, using the same kind of diplomacy he utilizes whenever Nick makes a particularly dumb comment.

"Uh, yeah ," she says, embarrassed even if she isn't surprised. "I know. It was just... taking up space in my head. I needed to write it down, otherwise, I'm going to be up all night."

Kim runs her hand through her hair, waiting for John to retreat as quickly as he'd arrived. Instead, John rereads the list once more. Kim can see his amusement much more plainly as he leans into the candlelight. It highlights the deep bags under his eyes as well, but who isn't carrying that particular mark of exhaustion these days?

"Ammunition isn't as high on the list as I'd imagined," he comments.

"We're okay on bullets for now," she replies. "And it's not like there's much to spare."

Whether or not that satisfies John, Kim isn't sure. He only hums in response, eyes roaming down the paper.

"I see you didn't bother to add more guns."

"We don't need more guns," Kim insists, although it's not strictly true. She's just hesitant to overwhelm the house with firearms. They've been getting on just fine with what they have — any more, and they might turn into a target themselves. One day, sure, they'll need to find something for Carmina to carry on her own, but that day is a long, long way away.

She doesn't need to explain herself to anyone, let alone John Seed, but as he watches her and waits for more, she feels compelled to justify herself. "I don't think we're going to find spare guns or ammunition just lying around, and I'm not about to take them by force. We've managed just fine with what we have."

"For now," John points out. "Things could change. It won't stay this calm forever."

"Why not?" Kim retorts, feeling childish and petulant as soon as the words leave her mouth. "Why do you even care? You're certainly not getting armed."

John clicks his tongue against his teeth. "It's not that," he says, only to abruptly roll over with a muttered, "Never mind."

If John thinks he can avoid the conversation that easily, he has another thing coming. "No, what is it?" she asks.

"It's nothing," he sighs, as if arrogantly dismissing her will keep Kim from pushing. When Kim only frowns unhappily back at him, he reluctantly relents. "Joseph had said taking your weapons was the only way we could ensure you wouldn't use them after the Collapse. And if we didn't lock them away, it would be all you would look for." He stares at the list, although Kim imagines his thoughts are about fifty miles away. "It's stunning how wrong he was about everything. But there are reminders everywhere."

John rarely speaks about Joseph; Kim hasn't heard him broach the subject of his own volition before. The only person who ever talks to him about his brother is Jerome, and those conversations are private and short. Having John bring him up with almost no needling feels like a step forward, even if it's only a small one. Even though John is anxious saying Joseph's name.

It's so easy to forget how much control Joseph had over John. Kim has to make a concentrated effort now and again to remind herself that Joseph hadn't only brainwashed normal, desperate people, but his own family. She can't imagine doing anything to Carmina or Nick that would turn them into the angry, anxious mess John had been even before the Collapse. Not even if it meant they would always do what they were told and would trust her implicitly. She couldn't bear it if Nick ever talked about her the way John talks about Joseph. It's late enough that Kim finds herself wondering how Joseph can even sleep at night.

"It's stupid," John says, taking Kim's contemplative silence as disapproval. "I should have known better."

He inhales, letting out a shaky breath, and closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, they're suspiciously shiny in the candlelight. It sparks a genuine pang of sympathy in Kim, but there's nothing she can say or do to help him. Nothing she's done so far has made an impact.

"Some of this is reasonable enough," John says, desperately trying to redirect the conversation back to the list. It's an obvious, flat-footed attempt to avoid a tender spot in his psyche, but Kim is willing to let it slide.

"Sure, eventually . But we're a long way off from hot baths and backyard barbecues, much less flour and sugar."

"Those are... less reasonable," he admits, dragging his finger across one of the harder to come by items. Still, he isn't nearly as deterred as she is. "But not everything is impossible to come by. Insulation, for one. Tarp, duct tape. Components like that should be easy enough to find." He taps his finger against the envelope. "And there still places to investigate. Root cellars nobody bothered to touch. Caches you never found. Things hidden in places you wouldn't know to look, especially if you weren't in the Project."

Frowning, Kim rereads a few of the items upside-down from her side of the table. "It's been almost nine years," Kim points out, reluctant to get her hopes up so easily. "Isn't it more likely that everything good has already been discovered?"

Still... John's mentioned secret Eden's Gate supplies before. Given the size of the project and how long they were operating in the county, it's not impossible that some of their hidden stashes haven't been found yet. And they were planning for the apocalypse, right? They'd likely have saved things that could last for a long time. John isn't wrong — more ammunition and more weapons would be helpful. At the very least, they could help arm other survivors.

"It wouldn't hurt to have a look, I guess," Kim relents after thinking it over. "How good is your memory?"

That earns her a rare, quiet chuckle from John. "Middling to poor," he admits, "Although if I had a map, it would help. It would make it easier to mark what I remember."

"To think, it only took nine years and an apocalypse for you to finally hand over the intel."

John huffs, but his response is only mildly offended. "Do you want what I have to offer, or not?"

"Don't be like that," Kim says, placating him with a smile. "It would be a big help. It'll help me sleep better, anyway."

It seems there's more on John's mind than Kim teasing him, since he takes the non-apology and moves on without a fight. "Jacob had caches buried for after the Reaping," he says. "They'll most likely be weapons, but he was... hard to read. It could be that he stored survival equipment in one. There were a few in the valley, but most of them would be in the mountains."

Kim shakes her head at that. "As far as I've heard, nobody's made it very far north. And the stories I have heard aren't good. The dam broke, so a lot of the area is flooded, and supposedly the radiation is still pretty bad."

John hums briefly as he considers the facts. He leans contemplatively over the list, and for a moment Kim wonders if this was a common occurrence for him before the Collapse. How many late nights did he spend bent over a map while his brothers watched and waited for his decisions? She has to suspect it was a lot, because this is the first time she's seen John look even remotely confident.

That confidence is clear in his voice as he remarks defiantly, "I suppose the valley will do until we get airborne again. Let flooding stop us then ."

"Oh, okay," Kim laughs, checking her volume before she lets her amusement wake up the rest of her family. "You are just like Nick. Neither of you are going to give up until you get back in the sky, huh?"

"Exactly," John replies. "I won't trust anybody else to do it. Realistically, a helicopter would be the best option..."

"Oh, right," Kim chuckles. " Realistically ."

John taps accusingly at the list and raises an eyebrow at her. "Less realistic than hot water and iodized table salt?"

If Kim didn't know better, she might think that John is actually teasing her. He normally saves that kind of attitude for Nick, who prefers arguing through and around problems. Kim, on the other hand, rarely has the energy to deal with avoidance tactics, and so she tends to demand his sincerity. Thankfully, the liminal time of just-about-three has softened her stance on the matter.

"Okay," she relents with a smile. "Sure. Might as well add helicopters to the list." It would be a pretty big get for them, all things considered. And anyway, John's right — Kim wouldn't trust flying in a plane jury-rigged together by anyone other than Nick.

But that's a resource that will come in the nebulous future, and Kim's too realistic to worry years in advance right now. There are more pressing concerns to deal with, first — like food, water and security. Any caches John can find will at least fulfill one of those priorities, although Kim can't imagine the cult storing anything other than ammunition and weapons. But even if the caches don't pan out, they might find valuable scrap, like logs for firewood, furniture they can re-purpose, or even old survivalist caches that nobody thought to dig up after the world ended. And now that there are four of them, Kim won't feel so uncomfortable when Nick wants to drive to the middle of nowhere looking for supplies.

Kim sighs with relief, feeling a weight roll off her back that she hadn't been trying to remove. "Things will be a lot easier if you can help us with supplies. And I'll feel better about Nick going out if he has somebody to watch his back."

John pulls the same face he usually makes when someone implies they trust him. Kim could ignore it — after all, John doesn't need to believe they trust them for it to be true. Too bad for him, it's too late at night for her to turn a blind eye. "Oh, get over it," she tells him, unable to help a lopsided smile at his offended scowl. "I seriously doubt you're planning on murdering us at this point. And I know Nick is smart enough to knock the crap out of you if he thinks you've changed your mind."

"I won't," John immediately replies.

Kim believes him, if only because there's nobody left for John to rely on other than them. "Good. Because if I can trust you, that means I won't worry about Nick when he decides to go farther than town. It means we can spend more meaningful time with Carmina, too. Anyway, Nick likes bossing you around, and you like being bossed around, so everybody wins."

John ducks his head, embarrassed, but Kim laughs to let him know she's only teasing. "Seriously," she says, relenting for his benefit, "It does help. It's good to have somebody else to rely on."

"I... want to be helpful," John replies, although Kim suspects that he might be confusing his wants and needs again. It's not quite a compulsion anymore, but even John's most heated attempts to argue about a job end with him rolling over quick. He hasn't outright refused to do something, and Kim doesn't think he ever will, if only to prove to himself one more time that he might actually be capable of change.

It might get annoying one day, but for now, Kim can respect his intense desire to make amends. She just wishes he would accept some form of gratitude or praise in return, to make it less awkward on her end.

Kim rests her hands momentarily on the tabletop, tapping her fingers briefly against the wood. "Okay," she softly declares, "I think I'm going to try to get back to sleep." Whatever she winds up dreaming about now, she's pretty sure it won't be the same awful nightmare again — and that's at least partially because of John's intervention. She figures it's worth telling him as much. "You made a pretty good distraction, so thanks."

He nods immediately in response. "Of course," he replies, momentarily bewildered as he checks Kim's expression for signs of sarcasm or annoyance. His posture relaxes as Kim stands, although Kim imagines his relief is temporary. He's pretty good at working himself up into anxious frenzies — staying out of them is another matter entirely.

"Try to get some sleep yourself, okay?" Kim suggests.

There's no way John means it when he says, "I will," but at least he's willing to placate her instead of getting mad at her being concerned in the first place.

"And try not to wake up Carmina."

John nods affirmatively. Kim's positive that he'll sneak outside once she's gone upstairs, but at least he's waiting patiently for her to leave. If it weren't for her returning exhaustion, Kim might've used him as an excuse to do her own late-night workout, but it'll have to do to merely turn a blind eye to him edging around her rule about going out after dark alone. Kim and Nick have both been woken up by the exterior doors, but John never goes beyond the planters out back, and he always closes up when he comes back in. Kim could call him out on it, but... well, it seems like he needs the freedom.

Kim says goodnight and is mildly surprised when John returns it without any lingering sarcasm. He must be pretty tired, but that's not really a surprise. Hopefully, he'll try to take some of her concern to heart, or at least pretend for her sake.

Although Carmina is definitely still asleep when Kim returns to the bedroom, Nick is watching her with bleary-eyed curiosity. He waits until she's closed the door to speak up, and even then it's a dull, quiet whisper.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

He doesn't mind waiting for Kim to creep back to bed before she answers. "It is," she tells him, gratefully crawling into bed as he opens his arms for her. He folds his arms over her shoulders, letting her wiggle into a comfortable spot before she explains in a whisper. "I needed to move around, and John came downstairs. That's all."

"Hope he wasn't a creep," Nick mumbles into her hair. Kim sighs laughingly into his collarbone, which is already sticking to her cheek with sweat. There's no way she's going to be wrapped up in Nick's arms all night, not when it's this hot, but she'll appreciate it while she's got it.

"Not yet," Kim says. "Just talking about supplies." She presses a kiss to Nick's shoulder and whispers, "We'll talk about it in the morning."

Nick hums happily into Kim's hair. "Sounds good to me," he mumbles. The less they talk about John Seed, the better, after all. Especially right now, when they're tangled up in bed with their daughter snoring next to them; there's no room for serious conversation, and there's absolutely no room for John. There's no space for the nightmares that woke her, either; as Kim falls asleep, Nick's hand tangled up in her hair, she thankfully forgets everything save for a warm, melancholy amber glow.

#fc5 #fcnd #john seed #kim rye #far cry new dawn #its only the first 5 right i can't remember #i feel like i was channeling james a janice here for a minute #HEY GUYS welcome to the kill count where we'll be tallying up all the skeletons in john seed's closet #mercyverse #my fic

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exalok · 4 years ago

Text

whaddup my dudes!!!

i am tired and wired and this means brain no writey but brain VERY focused on absolutely all the fic i have going on at once that aren’t prompts (prompts will be incoming, no worries dissociation anon)

and THAT means y’all get to hear about my many. many. MANY projects, or at least the ones that make my heart go pitter patter when i think of them

a few examples: demon!corvo and priest!daud with extra worldbuilding ; the naptime cuddles AU ; corvo doesn’t come to dunwall so jess and daud end up arranged-married for profit (more info..... under the readmore..... i’m gonna get rambly)

also feel free to ask questions, i love questions and they get me thinking even more in depth about the world and specific instances of characters and that is the entire POINT

LIKE OKAY SO MY BRAIN PRETTY MUCH CONTINUOUSLY THROWS IDEAS AT THE WALL AND ABOUT 95% OF THEM STICK BECAUSE I’M A HOARDING RAT BASTARD i love my ideas they are my precioussss

i might have about. 25 fic more or less active at the moment? which sounds like a reasonable number but those are the ones i have an actual plot for as well as the will to get them out into the world

let’s put aside the ones i have actually posted on tumblr or ao3 (teen!daud, domestic zombie apocalypse, bondageverse, knife!corvo) in favor of those you have either no or little idea exist. begin:

I MEAN OBVIOUSLY I MADE FANFIC OF MY OWN FANFIC or as i call it parallel/companion fic, because at some point in the past a prompter inspired me and i was deep in the prince!daud fic at the time and i thought what if high chaos. what if void monster corvo? what if horrifying yet human creature of the depths!!! what if EVERYTHING was TERRIBLE and daud killed corvo as a last ditch and vain attempt to get his people out of burrows’ clutches, and it all went to shit from there??? also they’re bound by marriage contract and the vagaries of magical intention and daud becomes corvo’s life battery, in essence, which you can imagine leads to a very unhealthy relationship i think it’s not spoilering much to tell you it does NOT end well, and i’ll be writing it as a sort of foil to low chaos prince!daud

i have quite a few high chaos fics actually. high chaos is depressing to play but the story outcomes are DELICIOUS and the degrading world and character motivations are a lot of fun to play around in

weirdly enough another one of these high chaos fics is the naptime cuddles AU!!! i won’t lie it’s the one i am currently on and i want to talk about it to everyone so bad constantly. in short, corvo doesn’t kill daud and the whalers because he’s trying to get out and currently too fucked up to fight, and when he doesn’t manage to save emily despite his best efforts he comes back to daud for some kind of symbolic execution. meanwhile thomas convinced daud to take a goddamn nap with him there because daud, despite his paranoia, does sleep better with people around, and this is entirely an excuse for semi-platonic daudthomascorvo cuddles in bed followed by whaler puppypiles when the gang catches on that this is a thing they can do now I LOVE PUPPYPILE WHALERS I LOVE NAPS I LOVE REDEMPTION THROUGH THE POWER OF RESTORATIVE SLEEP please i’m so tired and i can’t actually fall asleep next to people let me live my dream vicariously additionally: this will be my contribution to the absolutely wonderful whaler vineyard of old fanon

there is also what i feel should be a classic and ISN’T though a couple of fics were written around the concept and one in particular is /chef kiss, and the concept is: high chaos corvo meets low chaos corvo!!!!! i made it a threesome with daud because no one can stop me and i fucking LOVE the idea of daud ending up capable of telling them apart through tiny details even when high chaos corvo, bastard that he is, tries to impersonate low chaos corvo, who is a bastard in much more subtle ways and would probably be better at impersonating hc!c than the other way around but finds it distasteful; also i added intense body horror because that’s how i roll and there are eventual magical CONSEQUENCES to hc!c being in the low chaos world and regularly in contact with what is essentially his narrative double when he doesn’t belong there, probably ends in a tragically bittersweet way, i’m not completely clear on it yet though i do have ideas

and oh man......... the time travel corvo fic.... the one where high chaos corvo ends up in his own seven-year-old body........... fuck i hashed out so much of the general worldbuilding for that one and ended up going way too far and imagining a sequel like i always do where corvo learns how to walk universes and gathers people he cares about from places where he can actually save them from their eventual tragic futures and the dissolution of their timelines once the outsider is ousted from the void and a new void avatar is made and SHENANIGANS YO!!! SHENANIGANS AND CAMPING!!!! SELF-CROSSOVERS!!!!!!! I COULD HAVE HIM MEET HIMSELF IF HE HADN’T TRAVELED BACK I’M CRYING I HAVE SO MANY EMOTIONS

the one where corvo is a fae child is probably a lil bit high chaos though it isn’t determined yet, and he has all of these instincts with regards to possessing and exchange and deals, and assumptions as to how other people must work approximately the same, and he is so wrong. then there’s the really creepy bad touch possible sequel that i won’t get into unless someone specifically asks because it’s a lil bit much really

oh MAN oh SHIT speaking of bad touch there’s another dead dove do not eat one where i grabbed an entire handful of granny rags’ apparent fucking around with magical arrays and rune creation and general spellery and threw it at corvo post-interregnum and he sees “ghosts” and doesn’t understand what the FUCK is going on and things go really badly for him, and one ghost, soon the only ghost, is daud, and corvo doesn’t know if he’s real, if he’s seeing things, if he’s NOT seeing things but daud is some kind of void demon, if he is and also having psychotic breaks he doesn’t remember because he ends up with some hellish bruises, but the real daud is actually still out there just hiding out and corvo will eventually meet up with him and real daud will meet fake daud and even more shit will happen

god, the demon!corvo AU gets pretty fucked up as well if i remember right; corvo is both some dude with a wife and kid and the demon that inhabits him, jess is his wife and the demon that inhabits her (to be clear, separate characters but both based on either jess or corvo oh my GOD what if i switched the demons that would be amazing but no, calm down, maybe for a short what-if scenario that will inevitably turn into its own thing), daud is the overseer with the really good exorcism record trying to get the demons to fuck off except he thinks there’s only one of them and the other takes him by surprise; cue daud being hunted by that demon, furious that daud shattered his favorite pupil, and some revelations about what exactly lives inside the abbey and also under it

on a somewhat lighter note, the one where corvo never comes to dunwall (i think his mom gets sick and he doesn’t win the blade verbena at sixteen?) is also where jess keeps losing her royal protectors to assassination attempts because the first one was decent and died protecting her and the second one was decent and had an accident and people start believing there’s a curse on the position or a curse on her, and she’s like okay so how do i make sure i don’t die now that no one is willing to become my protector since it’s pretty much a death sentence, and she arranges a meeting with the best assassin in the city and suggests an alliance -- protection and some commission overview, all secret, versus funding and housing -- in the form of a marriage and daud ends up agreeing; then later duke abele visits and corvo is among his personal guard and he gets to meet the empress, and the assassin, and there are ot3 shenanigans

oh my GOD also the kids in karnaca AU. obviously. fuck you may have seen the (dis)armingly charmed notefic but this would be them meeting as actual kids, in karnaca, just tiny babies, daud recently kidnapped and corvo doing his best to make this cool older kid into his friend and also maybe hiding him from the people who want to train him to do Illegal Things, and there are dumb childish arguments and daud goes on the run to avoid capture and there is an exchange of letters that at one point stops and corvo is Devastated and there is a REUNION and they are ADORABLE but also INCREDIBLY STUPID, AS IS RIGHT AND CORRECT, and i don’t know what happens later but it gives me warm fuzzies okay

then i have a NUMBER of oneshots that are more or less plotted out, like the one where jess has a kind of groundhog day because Heart reasons but over months and starts out not quite remembering what happened in past attempts and OF COURSE it ends with royal ot3; and there’s the one where Daud becomes the Outsider and is very temporally confused and OF COURSE it ends with corvodaud who do you take me for (including Very Perplexing arguments where daud doesn’t know at what point in this relationship’s development he is and corvo is angry or very patient depending on where he accidentally time travels to, and i make some assumptions about the non-linearity of the void avatar’s existence); and there’s the one where corvo catches the plague and gets through kingsparrow to get emily out then to people he trusts, ie the curnows and sam beechworth, then crawls away to die, but daud finds him and sighs and rolls up his sleeves and sends whalers to the Tower and emily thinks the Tower is haunted then, when it becomes very clear the Tower is not, demands one of these assassins teach her how to stab a bitch; AND THERE’S THE ONE WHERE CORVO AND JESS ARE GHOSTS AND DAUD IS A REAL ESTATE AGENT AND THE WHALERS ARE THE KIDS HE TRIED TO HELP OUT AS A SOCIAL WORKER and yes it’s ot3 and yes he buys the ghost house and ends up being filmed by the whalers to do cooking videos and fancy knife tricks and asmr because his voice is insanely soothing when he’s not being ornery; oh fuck and there’s the one where i wrote an unrequited corvodaud prompt and my brain grabbed it, smelled it, and decided that corvo very reluctantly falling for daud was necessary to the health of my feelings, and there is at least one (1) sleeping beauty coma while corvo yells at the outsider about the Heart; also there’s the one where in D2 billie was evasive about the old guy living with her on her boat and em finds daud rather than sokolov in jindosh’s basement and they have long, emotional discussions; and for the character building hell of it one that would span the outsider’s beginnings and growth and how the void tries to welcome him in

okay........................ i think i’m done rambling now

i love fanfic y’all

#dishonored #writins #so many writins #gonna have me a nap now

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dungeondicedivaarchieve · 4 years ago

Note

🍋 - Does your muse complain about things to you? If so, what? 🥔 - What’s the dumbest mistake you’ve made in rp?

1. These two don’t very often. Otogi might pipe up about all the shit I put him through on occasion but Aigami’s very quiet (probably because I haven’t thought of ways to put him through as much shit yet.

2. It took me a while to answer this because I needed to be in the right headspace to type this out. I’m gonna stick it under a readmore because it’s loaded with negativity.

I feel like this question is actually referring to something silly like “I accidentally wrote the name of my character’s ex-boyfriend when answering an ask from her current boyfriend and made a really cute love declaration make it look like she was really hung up on her ex,” but I’m gonna go a little deeper. (That did happen though. In my defense, both characters’ names started with S. PS, if your rp partner makes a mistake like that and tells you that’s not the way they meant, let them change it, or take it the way it was intended. Don’t make them rp out the scene with the mistake included. That’s just really freaking mean.)

Now for the going deeper:

My biggest mistake in rp is actually pretty recent, and it’s the reason for my three-ish month hiatus from this blog and Tumblr in general.

It was getting involved with the Fire Emblem: Three Houses fandom.

Now, I love Fire Emblem. It’s been my favorite video game series since Fire Emblem: Blazing Blade came out in the US in 2003. This has nothing to do with the game itself. It’s a great game. I wish I could still enjoy it.

But there are members of that fandom who are so incredibly toxic that I can no longer play the game or even discuss the game without feeling physically ill. Sadly, this is pretty common, because a lot of my friends know I’ve been known to breathe Fire Emblem and want to talk about it with me. I don’t feel like I can tell them what happened because it’s a pretty big damn can of worms.

I feel so stupid that I let the emotional abuse I got from certain people in that fandom go on for as long as I did. I guess I was blind because I love the series so much. Well, that, and, like all good abusers, when I would catch on and ask if they wanted me to leave them alone, they would say that any negative transgressions I was feeling were in my head. No, we don’t dislike you, we want everyone to feel welcomed and have fun.

Well, that gets harder to believe when more and more people start treating you like hot garbage because the people I managed to make enemies out of were very influential. One of their friends started rping a character I played (I’m not going to name names because that might make it easier for people reading this to find out who these people are), and despite my rules saying I don’t rp with dupes because of a bad experience, they continued to interact with me on the dupe blog, saying it was all crack and it’s just for fun.

I got numerous messages from people telling me that (x) character was a copy of my version of that character made to make me feel inferior and make me abandon the character altogether. I don’t know if that was an assumption or something this mun said aloud, though based on the number of people who told me about it, I’m assuming it was the latter.

When that didn’t make me leave, they got ahold of another friend who I was involved in a ship with. The influential mun’s character and my ship-partner’s character cheated on my character explicitly in our verse. I think I’ve said before on this blog that cheating on a muse without discussing it with the mun first is one of the worst things you can do? Well, everyone probably already knows that, unless you’re trying to make someone feel so bad that they abandon a blog.

Surprise, surprise, each time I tried to talk to ship-mun about it, they would ignore me. They would talk to me about other things, but any message I sent about wanting to plot out how our characters could either resolve this or if they should break up was missed. Yeah, that’ll be believable maybe two times. After that, it’s blatantly dodging and you’re being a douche.

During this time, while I was still trying to get some closure for that muse, I was on a different 3 Houses account and sent a message to another one of the influencer’s friends. They started griping about how certain muns use their muses to start shit, like the person who writes (my cheated on muse.) I hope they felt like a real fucking idiot when I sent a message saying “Well, actually, that muse is also run by me, and nothing you’re saying ever happened.”

I realized very quickly after that this particular mun wanted to run me off the site because they wanted to ship with the muse cheated on muse was in a ship with. Because multi-verse isn’t a commonly accepted thing I guess.

About a week ago, I logged onto that account just to prove to myself that I could without throwing up, and those two are together now. Even though I told ship-mun how horrible they were and how they were spreading false rumors to make me look like a horrid person.

Congrats, you two deserve each other.

I know it’s on me for letting it go on as long as it did. I know it’s on me for not realizing what was going on for months. I know it’s on me for making excuses for their behavior and continuing to go on because I wanted to stay in the fandom and have fun, because the world was pretty much shut down and there wasn’t much to do to escape the world ending besides try to lose yourself in the internet, but what they did was absolutely the scummiest stuff I’ve seen in my seventeen years of rping.

PS, I lost 23 pounds over the last two months of being involved in that fandom because I was constantly making myself sick trying to fix whatever I had done wrong that made them treat me this way.

When I finally gave up I completely shut down, and that’s why I wasn’t here for a few months.

I left everything as vague as possible so that no one is called out, but if, by some miracle, the people involved see this and figure out I’m talking about them:

Fuck you. Fuck you for ruining my favorite video game series. Fuck you for hurting so many people. I know two other muns who said they can’t enjoy Fire Emblem anymore either because of the shit you pulled. Fuck you for being so entitled you think you have the right to destroy someone’s reputation and chase them away from something they love because you don’t like something about them. Fuck you for being so manipulative that you can turn friends against one another. Fuck you for manipulating people with Autism (not me, another person they were shit to.)

Fuck you. Fuck you and the people that enable you.

Go to hell.

#tw: negativity #tw: drama #tw: emotional manipulation #tw: eating disorder mention #kaibacorpbros

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in-tua-deep · 5 years ago

Link

OKAY remember that snippet that got too long and i asked about how I should post it?? Well here it is -

and a copy under the readmore for tumblr people

When Five Hargreeves is four-years-old, he discovers his power.

He also discovers a whole lot more than that.

They’re all figuring out their powers, and as a consequence they all move out of the nursery into their own rooms after a somewhat unfortunate incident regarding the discovery of Six’s powers. Regardless, Five isn’t very fond of the new arrangement because he’s lonely.

He can’t sleep without the sounds of his siblings around him. One’s sleepy whuffling and Four’s random exclamations, Six shuffling around and Two kicking his blankets off in the night. It’s too quiet.

That is, of course, when the man falls into his room.

He arrives in a flash of blue. The same blue that Five himself recognizes like an old friend, because it’s the one he embraces and falls into because it feels so incredibly right, the one he pulls to him to jump. At the abrupt arrival, Five had scuttled backwards and curled into an alarmed ball, like a hedgehog.

He scrubs at the tears that definitely weren’t falling as the man on his carpet groans.

“Who - who’re you?” Five asks, definitely not scared, because he’s not. He’s not a baby. The man just groans in response. And now that Five is looking, he’s not like. Old old. He’s not Dad old. He’s not a grown-up, but he is a big kid.

He’s not quite as scary now that he’s not so old, so Five gingerly scooches to the edge of the bed to lower himself down to the floor. He pads across the cold bedroom floor and kneels down, hesitating before patting the boy on the cheek.

“You gotta wakey.” Five whispers, “Dad’ll be really really mad.”

The boy rouses at least, eyes snapping open and pushing himself up to his elbows with a loud groan. Five shushes him, because it’ll be real bad if his Dad comes in and finds the guy.

“What the fuck.” The boy wheezes, and Five tilts his head at the unfamiliar word.

They stare at each other for a solid minute. Five gets impatient enough that he reaches up and rests his hand against the boy’s cheek again, like he patted him into wakefulness the first time. The boy leans back, as if startled.

“What’s your name?” Five asks the boy. He feels like he should probably ask some other questions, like what this guy is doing in his room, and how he has the same powers as Five, but he feels like he already knows. Or at least, the answer he’ll get now is a confirmation of a suspicion.

“How old are you?” The boy asks him, instead.

“Four.” Five holds up four whole fingers proudly. Next year he’ll get to hold up five fingers, the most superior of all the numbers.

“Fuck.” The boy says the word again, bringing up his hands to his face and wheezing into them.

“Are you me?” Five asks bluntly, since he’s pretty sure he figured it out. The blue light was his blue light after all, familiar as the back of his own hand.

The boy sighs again. He sighs an awful lot. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” He mutters, which makes Five frown in confusion. He’s a very confusing version of himself, this boy.

“You’re weird.” Five informs his older self very seriously.

“Well I am you.” The boy says reflectively, and Five almost feels like he should be offended but he’s too busy being curious.

Five frowns as he chases a tendril of thought to a logical conclusion, “If you’re me,” He starts slowly, sounding out each words, “If you’re me and you’re old, then you’re from… the future? So that means… I can jump time?”

“No.” The boy cuts him off, frighteningly pale all of a sudden. His eyes are wild in a way that makes Five flinch backwards, putting just a little bit of distance between him and, well, himself. Five can’t help but look doubtful, because really it’s the only obvious answer.

The boy at least looks somewhat apologetic for his sharpness, though he doesn’t say anything about it. Five knows that the nannies would insist on someone saying “I’m sorry” so that they make up, but Five can think of half a dozen things his dad has done that the nannies would say would merit an apology and he never does it.

“Hey,” The boy says, breaking the silence that has fallen between them. He looks older all of a sudden, and Five almost reconsiders his judgement of the boy’s age. “Hey, do you want to hear a story?”

And of course, those are the magic words. Five loves stories and has been known to constantly badger the nannies for one. Eyes bright, Five nods hard enough that he almost loses his balance before running over to the bookcase full of children’s books with big fonts.

He’s supposed to be learning how to read for himself, so he can tell himself stories, but that’s never seemed half as much fun.

“No, no.” The boy shakes his head, making Five look back. “Not one of those, I have a story for you, but it isn’t in a book.”

The boy hauls himself up, crouching low to the ground with his arm curling around his stomach. He huffs and puffs like the wolf in one of Five’s storybooks as he staggers over to the bed to sit down. It’s a little bit like when Four doesn’t want to do something and makes a big production out of everything, except much quieter.

Five shrugs and pads over, but when he crosses the patch of floor where his older self had appears he automatically jumps back a few feet in a flash of blue light, eyes wide. But jumping doesn’t change what startled him - his feet are wet.

Cautiously, he tiptoes forward and crouches down. There’s black shiny stuff on the floor, puddled and smeared with a sharp metallic smell, like rust in the rain. He recognizes it in a way no young child should. He pops up and fixes an accusing eye on the older boy. “You’re hurt!”

“I am, yes.” The boy admits easily, waving one careless hand. The other hand stays firmly tucked against his side. “Should’ve warned you, my bad.”

“I can go get a nanny!” Five says urgently, already walking to the door, “I’m sure they’ll know - ”

“No!” The boy once again cuts him off sharply and just a little bit too loudly. They both freeze in place, waiting to see if they’ll get caught, but nothing stirs in the house that they can hear. The boy sighs, again. “Don’t worry about me, it’s fine. Just come here - like I said, I have a story to tell you. It’s very important.”

Five is somewhat doubtful that a story is more important than getting fixed up and getting magic kisses, but he figures his older self probably knows more about that kind of stuff anyway. So against his better judgement, Five trots on over and allows the boy to help him scramble up onto the bed until he’s tucked against the older boy’s side.

“You have to stay awake for this.” The boy whispers, jiggling Five’s arm when he doesn’t respond fast enough. “It’s important.”

“Dad says that stories aren’t important.” Five whispers back.

“Dad’s wrong.” The boy says firmly, ignoring Five’s little gasp. “This story is the most important story you’re ever going to hear, okay? This story is going to save the world. And it starts on October 1st, 1989. On that day, forty-three children were born, which would have been unremarkable except for the fact that none of the mother’s were pregnant when the day began…”

Five listens, and any time he starts to drop off the boy shakes him awake again and makes sure he’s paying attention before continuing. He listens, even as the boy has to pause more and more often, as he starts wheezing in between sentences.

But the boy is patient, more patient than Five thought he would be.

“I like the names they got.” Five whispers, patting the boy’s cold hand a few times to get his attention. Luther, Allison, Diego, Klaus, Ben, Vanya. “Do we get a name?”

“My name is Five.” The boy tells him softly, as if imparting a secret. He smiles, and Five pretends he doesn’t see the blood on the boy’s teeth. “But you don’t have to be, maybe this time around you’ll pick something out. I don’t know. Isn’t the future a wonderful thing?”

Five rather thinks the future is a scary thing, considering the story he’s just been told. But rather than think about that, Five has another question. “How come you forgot about Seven’s powers?”

The boy falls silent. Five thinks it’s a fair enough question. Seven blew him into a wall yesterday because someone’s car alarm went off outside, he still has the bruise. He doesn’t think he’d forget about that just because she went away for a week or something.

“Go get me one of your books,” The boy says, putting a clammy hand on Five’s shoulder and giving him a little push, “And the blue crayon.”

If nothing convinced Five that they were the same before, it was that. Sheepishly, Five hopped down and went to retrieve the requested items. This time, he made sure to avoid the blood still pooled on his floor.

“Grab me your favorite, the one you read every night. But not the one that the nannies read.” The boy asks, and Five obeys.

He scuttles back and hands the book and crayon over, hoisting himself back onto the bed so he can watch. He almost protests when the boy flips it open and starts writing on the pages, but holds his tongue.

As if sensing this, the boy looks up. His eyes are soft and just a little bit glazed. “You were right,” The boy tells him, which makes Five preen just a little bit, “You - I should have remembered Vanya’s powers. It seems dumb that we just forgot, which means something made us forget. I’m just - I’m leaving you a reminder.”

The scribbling continues for a good while, and Five almost protests at how much his blue crayon is being worn down by all this but holds his tongue. Five is slightly more concerned by the fact that the boy’s hands are trembling and that he’s breathing really loudly. But eventually he comes to a stop, closing the book gently - like it was the most precious thing in the world.

The boy hands it to Five with a nod, “Go put that away, okay? Dad - Dad’d never think to look in a kid’s book. But, but you have to remember. Keep it secret, don’t let anyone see it, okay? It’s only for you.”

“What about Four and Six?” Five asks, aghast. They’re his bracket siblings, the ones on either side of his own number. They share everything. But even as he asks, he’s scooting off the bed to return the book (and the crayon) to their rightful places in the room.

The boy’s lips quirk up into something almost like a smile, or Five thinks it might have become one if the boy didn’t also look so terribly sad. “You can’t tell anyone about any of this. You can’t tell them you met me, you can’t tell anyone I even existed, okay?”

“Why not?” Five demands to know.

“You’ll get in trouble.” The boy whispers, looking terribly serious. “More trouble that you’ve ever been in before. Worse than when you drew on the wall. You can’t tell anyone, you understand?”

Five doesn’t understand at all. But the boy looks very serious.

“Promise me.” The boy says fiercely, “You promise me you won’t tell anyone about tonight.”

Five considers this for a moment before tentatively sticking out a pinky. That’s how people make promises in his books at least, though Five has never made a big enough promise to necessitate it. This feels like an appropriate time though, and it makes the boy smile just a little more than before which is another win.

A finger much bigger than his own wraps around his and squeezes on just that side of too tight before being released. They nod at one another in confirmation of a deal made.

“Alright,” The boy wheezes, sitting up a little straighter and looking a little more pale as he does so. “Now here’s what’s going to happen now. You’re going to go to one of the others’ rooms to sleep, okay? And in the morning, tell - tell Dad you were scared and left early. You didn’t see or hear anything strange last night. You weren’t in your room. You didn’t meet me, you didn’t hear a story, and you definitely don’t say anything about the book, okay?”

“But I’ll get in trouble.” Five protests, because Dad told them that sleeping together was for babies and that they weren’t supposed to do it anymore. Admittedly he also doesn’t want his siblings to call him a baby, either. But he gets a harsh look for his concerns.

“If Dad finds out we met, you’ll be in even more trouble.” The boy bares his teeth, and maybe Five should find it scary but he just feels a little bit sad.

He can’t help but ask - “What about you? Will you get in trouble?”

The boy wheezes out a quiet laugh, “No. I’ll just - disappear. I won’t get in trouble with Dad, I promise. But you probably won’t even see me again, okay?” The boy shakes his head at Five’s frown, “I’m not supposed to be here, anyway. It’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself. Off you go now, go to Be - go to Six’s room. He’s probably the one most likely to back you up without asking too many questions.”

Before he can go, FIve scrambles back up on the bed. The boy’s reaction is too delayed to stop him, and Five manages to clap both his hands against each of the boy’s cheeks to pull his head around to look him in the eye. “Don’t worry.” Five parrots, and then gives the boy a cheeky grin, “I’m gonna make things better, ‘kay? No ‘pocalypse.” And then, before he can think better of it, he leans forward and presses a kiss right between the boy’s eyebrows, the way the nannies do when one of them are terribly upset and beside themselves.

The boy brings up a trembling hand to pat at Five’s head, lopsided grin small but sincere. “I know. I believe in you, kid.”

And it’s on that note that Five creeps down off the bed and tiptoes out of the room, only pausing once to wave to the boy for the last time. He sneaks down the hallways, into Six’s room, and slides into a bed. Admittedly, it is very late and his eyes are heavy with sleep so it takes no time at all for Five to just… slip away.

He’s abruptly woken in the morning by being yanked out of bed. The grip on his arm is bruising and he cries out, tears springing up in his eyes. Distantly, he can hear Six starting to cry as well as he’s hauled to his feet and shaken a few times.

His father’s face looms before him, and Five tries to yank his arm away even knowing how futile it is.

“What are you doing in here, Number Five?” His father demands, and suddenly the last night comes rushing back to him in vivid technicolor. Suddenly the tears in his eyes aren’t due to the rough treatment.

But he remembers what the boy had said, about getting in trouble for sneaking out of his room versus the amount of trouble he’d get in if it was discovered he’d spoken to his future self. Admittedly, the boy had had some very colorful opinions about their father that he’d made clear during the story.

Five remembers the promise he made, and looks up at his dad as his tears overflow and drip down his cheeks. “It was - it was too quiet!” He sobs, and the fact that it was also the truth certainly helps. “I just - I’m sorry! I’ll sleep in my room from now on, I promise!”

His father pauses, face smoothing out just a little. His grip on Five’s arm hurts a little less.

(There will still be bruises though, stark against pale skin that he’ll examine later that night before pulling his pajama sleeve down before pretending it doesn’t bother him.)

“You were out of your room all night?” His father asks, voice even and calculating. Five knows what he’s really asking, he’s asking if Five was in the room when the boy appeared. If Five saw the boy.

And for the first time, Five looks his father in the eye and he lies. “I’m sorry.” He sniffles, and maybe a four-year-old shouldn’t be thinking quite so calculatingly, but Five could never be accused of being normal. “I just - It was so quiet an’ I couldn’t sleep an’ I’m sorry!”

“You didn’t wake up in the night?” His father continues to press, but he doesn’t look suspicious. In fact, he looks just a tiny bit relieved - though it’s difficult to tell behind the monocle and mustache. “Didn’t hear anything strange or see anything odd?”

“Uh uh!” Five denies, shaking his head with wide eyes, “Six was ‘sleep when I got in an’ he didn’t have an accident, promise!”

Six makes a protesting noise behind him, but considering that an unfortunate tentacle incident is part of the reason why they got split up into separate rooms in the first place. Five figures that if he really has no clue what had gone down last night, that’s what he’d assume his dad is asking about.

“This incident won’t be repeated.” Reginald demands imperiously before turning on his heel and walking out the door with nothing more that an irritated, “Report for breakfast immediately!”

That had both Five and Six scrambling to brush off their pajamas and out the door to head downstairs. Five was almost thankful - there wasn’t enough time for Six to interrogate him about anything or ask why he’d been a big baby by sneaking in to sleep or anything.

The day is almost distressingly normal, except for the fact that the Nannies bring down their clothes instead of having them all get dressed in their rooms today. All of them know better than to question Dad’s orders, but all but Five share puzzled looks between themselves regardless.

As soon as they find themselves released for the day, Five trots up the stairs and tries not to look too eager to return to his room. Thankfully, it’s not abnormal for Five to spend his free time absorbed in his books and begging the nannies to read to him, or else sounding out the words on his own.

He enters his room and the first thing he notices is that it’s spotless. The bed is made, the floor is clean, and there is a distinct lack of anyone else. It’s like last night was erased, like it never even happened.

Five could almost convince himself that it had been a weird dream, except for the fact that when he looks down there’s a tiny brown drop near his pant cuffs that he’s almost positive is dried blood. Though thankfully, Reginald had missed it. And when he crouched down where he knew the boy had appeared, he could smell chemicals.

He walks over to the bookcase with careful steps, pulling down a familiar book and flipping open the pages to gaze at the blue crayon words. He doesn’t understand a lot of them, and some were really long, but it wasn’t exactly the kind of book he could take to someone and ask about, either.

Five sits cross-legged on his floor, and decides to try anyway.

(Later that week, he watches his father install cameras all around the mansion, including in each child’s bedroom. Five’s is the first to have the camera installed, and he wonders.

A year later, he frowns down at blue crayon writing and traces his fingers over the fact that apparently his ordinary sister has powers. He is sure he would remember something like that, sure he would remember Vanya being as powerful as the words said. Surely Reginald would use Vanya if she was as powerful as this implied? His father was so scornful of them wasting their talents, after all. He traces his fingers over hurried letter and he doubts.

He watches Vanya take her pills, and he wonders. And maybe that attention makes him Vanya’s closest confidant, makes him pay her more attention than he would have otherwise. Makes him insist on her inclusion instead of just shrugging apologetically and leaving her behind.

He reads his book, with its hastily scribbled notes, and defends it valiantly even when Luther teases him about still having a baby book. After that, he carefully transcribes what is written in childish handwriting, including also every scrap of information he could remember from the boy’s story that night.

He jumps into Klaus’s room after training nights and presses his hand into his brother’s, rubbing gently to bring warmth back to cold fingers. He escalates into jumping into the mausoleum when he thinks he could get away with it, armed with a flashlight and playing cards and a determination to not let Klaus drown.

He sits at a table at thirteen-years-old, suddenly furious. He clenches his fists in his pants and tells himself to breathe through his fury.

He doesn’t expect, the next day, when the woman in blond with the bloody red smile shows up. He knows her, in the same way children know a comic book villain. He knows before she even opens her mouth who she is - the Handler. She asks him, all saccharine sweetness, if he’s a good little boy who obeys his father.

He knows what she’s doing, he knows she’s trying to goad him into disobeying his father. Probably so that he’ll try to time travel. He’s off schedule, after all.

He wonders if the changes he’s made will be enough. He wonders if maybe the Handler will leave his family alone if he doesn’t conform to her expectations. He wonders if he can afford to take that chance.

That night, he pulls out a new notebook and writes a new story. He writes about a child who, one night, has a boy fall into the middle of his room and tell him a story. He writes about mopped up blood and a disappeared body. He writes about the child’s sister, who has powers and doesn’t know it. He writes about a woman with red lipstick who won’t rest until she gets what she wants, won’t stop until the world has ended, and how she has her sights fixed on him. He writes about how scared he is, but that he’ll see his family again in seventeen years if all goes well.

He slips his notebook under Vanya’s pillow with a big don’t read until Reginald Hargreeves is dead on the cover. He trusts his sister, that she won’t look.

He writes another note to Ben, a piece of paper that only says the year that Ben is supposed to die. He begs his brother to live until he returns, begs his brother to just run away if nothing else can be done, and to look after Klaus in the meantime.

And then, and only then, does Five walk outside. The night air is cold - it’s November, after all. He stares at his reflection in a shop window, and sees the same face that showed up in his room all those years ago. That face had looked more pale, more tired, but Five figures he has time to get there.

He clenches his fists, and let’s blue wash over him and Five -

falls.)

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua fics #my writing #five hargreeves #number five #some time travel shenanigans #one more time with feeling #literally just an au with an alternate five who was advised by a dying version of canon!five #child abuse #reginald hargreeves a+ parenting

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supercasey · 5 years ago

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Sanders Sides Battlebots AU Part 1: The Bots, Drivers, and Lore (for the time being)

Okay, people actually seem interested in this, so @elvis-has-been-dug and @evelyn-paine, this one is for you two (and also to all the people who liked the first post, lol). ((Putting this under a readmore because... it’s about to get LONG. ALSO: for people who don’t know, Janus is my headcanon name for Deceit, Romulus is my take on Original Creativity (AKA before The Split), and William is my OC for Thomas’ Procrastination!))

Okay, I fixed it and added everything, but I swear to god, if Tumblr makes the formatting shit, I’m gonna eat a brick.

The Builders/Bots (In order of experience)

Bot Name: Undercover Driver: Janus Salem Driver’s Age: 45 Weapon Type: Wildcard Mini Bot: None Mini Type: None Years Competing: 27 Number of Giant Nuts Won: 5 Number of Giant Bolts Won: 0 About the Bot: A very adaptable bot, Janus will make Undercover anything he needs it to be. Whether it’s a vertical spinner, a full-body spinner, a horizontal spinner, an axe, a wedge, a flipper; you name it, Undercover’s probably been made into it at some point for a match. In any case, Undercover is a very well built bot, and is difficult to strategize against, but what it has in strategy it lacks in driving, as Janus doesn’t have the razor sharp reflexes he once possessed as a young man. About the Driver: Janus has been involved with Battlebots since the very beginning, founding the first public competitions alongside Romulus. He actually had romantic feelings for Romulus, but due to the competitive (and somewhat homophobic) atmosphere they were surrounded by, the two of them had to keep their relationship a secret, which was just fine by Janus. Unfortunately for everyone who knew him, Romulus died at thirty-six from a sudden heart attack, and out of sympathy and genuine love for the kids, Janus adopted Romulus’ twin sons; a controversial move at the time, to say the least. Nowadays, Janus is still involved with Battlebots, despite the pressure to retire, and is intent on winning at least one more Giant Nut before he throws in the towel; besides, he has to teach these new kids who’s boss!

Bot Name: The King Driver: Romulus Magnus Driver’s Age: 46 (Deceased - Died at 36) Weapon Type: Horizontal Spinner Mini Bot: Princess Mini Type: Propeller Years Competing: 17 Number of Giant Nuts Won: 4 Number of Giant Bolts Won: 0 About the Bot: Horrifyingly powerful horizontal spinner, The King is up there in deadliness with the likes of Tombstone and Minotaur. He’s fairly durable, due to his driver having over a decade of experience under his belt, and every wound seems at most a temporary inconvenience. Princess is more for show than anything else, but she still packs a fiery punch when used correctly. Unfortunately, The King and Princess have both been retired for many years now, but their designs still inspire many bots into existence, allowing their legacy to continue. About the Driver: One of the veterans of Battlebots, Romulus is one of the first names people in this competition associate with the idea of being gone too soon. Alas, Romulus died at thirty-six from an undiagnosed heart condition, which triggered a heart attack, killing him within twenty-four hours of his heart attack happening. While alive, Romulus was a bit unpredictable in the ring, switching between being everyone’s kindly father figure and the Battlebox miscreant. Nowadays, his twin sons Roman and Remus continue his legacy, most assuredly making their father proud from wherever his spirit now resides.

Bot Name: Tuff Pupp Driver: Patton Picani Driver’s Age: 27 Weapon Type: Wedge Mini Bot: Pretty Kitty Mini Type: Spinner Years Competing: 7 Number of Giant Nuts Won: 0 Number of Giant Bolts Won: 1 About the Bot(s): Very cutesy looking bot; sturdy, low to the ground, and very fucking durable (on par with the likes of Duck! tbh). Can survive several hits from Tombstone on a good day, but don’t expect those giant googly eyes to stay on after a fight. Pretty Kitty is a fan favorite, and although it usually gets busted pretty quickly, it’s become famous for once crippling Undercover and winning the match for Tuff Pupp (it’s also a favorite because Patton let’s kids in the crowd drive Pretty Kitty for him, and then gives them a cat-themed baseball cap afterwards). About the Driver: Patton Picani has been raised in the midst of Battlebots since he was a young teen, on account of his father being the arena announcer for the show. After he came of age and went through college, Patton built Tuff Pupp and entered the ring. From the very beginning, Patton has been a big fan favorite, his iconic puppy onesie and cat baseball caps for the kids making him rather endearing. He may seem like a total softie, but his bot is anything but, and while the fans adore him, fellow bot builders know to fear him and his building skills.

Bot Name: Falsehood Driver: Logan Wu Driver’s Age: 26 Weapon Type: Flipper Mini Bot: None Mini Type: None Years Competing: 6 Number of Giant Nuts Won: 1 Number of Giant Bolts Won: 1 About the Bot(s): Hydraulics flipper on par with the likes of Bronco (they tested which bot could launch a dryer the highest, but Bronco won by a few feet). Not a lot of real flashiness to the design, but is painted black with dark blue accents. Durable, but not quite as durable as Tuff Pupp. Very reliable, but it’s hydraulics have failed on it before in the ring. Keep an eye on this one in a Free for All match; it’ll launch you the minute you look away. About the Driver: Logan Wu is a college graduate who made his first appearance a few years back with his college robotics club and their bot, but after a very embarrassing loss it seemed like his club would never return to Battlebots again. The next year, Logan returned, but this time with his OWN bot, and with him as the driver. He managed to get to the semi-finals with Falsehood, and has since been considered one of Battlebots’ best builders. He’s not as flashy as the likes of Tuff Pupp and Princey, but he still has a very loyal fanbase (and he definitely earned some new fans that time he wore his unicorn onesie for a match against Patton).

Bot Name: Princey Driver: Roman Magnus Driver’s Age: 23 Weapon Type: Full-Body Spinner Mini Bot: None Mini Type: None Years Competing: 5 Number of Giant Nuts Won: 1 Number of Giant Bolts Won: 0 About the Bot(s): A fairly large full-body spinner that clearly took a great deal of inspiration from The King, save for plenty of modern day upgrades and improvements alongside Roman’s own creative touch (plus it’s a full-body spinner, unlike The King, which only had a small horizontal spinner). Princey is very much feared in the ring, capable of taking down bots as durable as Tuff Pupp and Duck! on a good day, though he isn’t invincible. More often than not, Princey ends up breaking himself on anything he hits too hard; it’s a good thing that Roman’s so great at repairs. About the Driver: Raised alongside his twin brother since the beginning of Battlebots, Roman has always dreamed of being one of the big stars, wanting to compete with the likes of Tombstone and Bronco. He originally thought he’d grow up to inherit his father’s bot, The King, but after Romulus passed away from a heart attack, Roman committed himself to building his own bot, and has indeed become one of the stars he always dreamed of becoming someday. He’s not as rambunctious as his twin brother, but Roman is definitely famous in the Battlebox, and he’ll be damned if anyone takes his spotlight.

Bot Name: Forbidden Fruit Driver: Remus Magnus Driver’s Age: 23 Weapon Type: Full-Body Spinner Mini Bot: Jeffery Mini Type: Spinner Years Competing: 5 Number of Giant Nuts Won: 0 Number of Giant Bolts Won: 2 About the Bot(s): Very similar to Princey, but it’s a little smaller and is painted neon green instead of red (though it has a few red “blood splatters” in order to tease Roman). Somehow even less capable of taking it’s own hits than Princey, but it does much more damage, as Remus more or less put all of it’s weight in kinetic damage. Jeffery is a bit of an odd mini bot, oftentimes doing more harm than good, but he’s a fan favorite, and usually gets a lot of laughs from the audience when he (inevitably) breaks himself on something midway through the match. About the Driver: Raised alongside his twin brother since the beginning of Battlebots, Remus has been dying to get a genuine taste of the action. Unlike Roman, he never wanted to pilot The King, and his father’s passing, while absolutely devastating for him, at least removed the pressure to pilot his dad’s bot someday. Now having his own bots in Forbidden Fruit and Jeffery, Remus is infamous in the Battlebox for his cheap tactics and maniacal laughter, resulting in him being either hated or adored by builders and viewers alike.

Bot Name: Procrastination Station Driver: William Jackson Driver’s Age: 25 Weapon Type: Horizontal Spinner Mini Bot: Chippy Mini Type: Propeller Years Competing: 4 Number of Giant Nuts Won: 0 Number of Giant Bolts Won: 1 About the Bot(s): Secretly based off of The King, Procrastination Station is quickly becoming infamous in the ring for it’s incredible build and it’s excellent driving. Not quite as durable as Tuff Pupp, or as strong as Forbidden Fruit, or even as adaptable as Undercover, PS makes up for it’s shortcomings in all out speed and maneuverability, making matches with it intense and usually very long. Not exactly a big time winner, PS is still very much feared in the Battlebox, and is more than capable of winning the Giant Nut someday… there’s also Chippy, but he’s more of an accessory than anything else. About the Driver: Unlike most of the drivers/builders currently competing, Billy didn’t have any sort of family members or connections to Battlebots, instead growing up watching the matches from the couch at home. Once old enough, and after graduating with high honors in college, Billy started making a name for himself in Battlebots with his beloved Procrastination Station. Though he doesn’t have the benefits of following a legacy, he also doesn’t have the setbacks, something he considers a great advantage. Billy comes off as a bit slow, at least at first glance and in interviews, but anyone who’s faced him can testify that he’s incredibly brilliant, just quiet about it.

Bot Name: Charlotte Driver: Virgil Salem Driver’s Age: 19 Weapon Type: Vertical Spinner Mini Bot: Lil' Reaper Mini Type: Wedge Years Competing: 2 Number of Giant Nuts Won: 1 Number of Giant Bolts Won: 0 About the Bot(s): A small but deadly bot, Charlotte has already racked up an impressive amount of knock-outs since her debut last year, and is known for showing little mercy on the battlefield (unless your insides are exposed, of course). Charlotte is a tiny, black painted vertical spinner, complete with purple “patches” all over her. Lil’ Reaper isn’t much for damage output, but it’s been very useful for pinning bots for Charlotte during matches. About the Driver: Virgil is currently the youngest driver/builder in Battlebots, but has been driving since he was even younger, as his adoptive father- Janus Salem- has been bringing him along for every season since he was adopted, even letting him pilot Undercover a few times as a young teen. There are rumors going around that Virgil and Janus had a falling out, based off of their explosive interactions in front of the cameras and in the ring, but it’s all for show (well… not ALL of it, but Virgil doesn’t want to talk about that too much). The unspoken outcast/prodigy of the competition, Virgil is here with something to prove, and he’ll do anything to escape Janus’ shadow over his Battlebots career.

Little Headcanons/Things in the AU (So Far!!!)

Thomas and Jaun are the commentators for Battlebots, going very much with a best friends/occasional frenemies routine.

Talon, Terrance, and Valorie are all the judges.

Remy is the Battlebox commentator (basically that means he runs around interviewing all of the builders/getting into shenanigans with them (AKA pulling pranks with the twins)). He definitely has a very sassy attitude, and let’s be honest, he’s getting bleeped (alongside Jaun, of course) every third word he speaks.

Picani is the battle arena announcer, and unlike the amazing Faruq of real life Battlebots, his starting lines/jokes are always very family friendly/adorable. However, whenever Patton is battling someone, Remy will sometimes be made to take over for announcing the fight (which leads to him cussing like a sailor, much to Picani and Patton’s horror (like father like son, lol)).

Janus and Romulus are the veterans of Battlebots, but with Romulus gone, this just leaves Janus as the “Battlebox Grandpa” according to everyone else (Virgil got him a “World’s Okayest Grandpa” mug and he unironically loves it… secretly, of course).

Janus and Virgil have a fake “Father vs Son” rivalry thing going on; it started in Virgil’s first season of Battlebots, when he was eighteen, and has continued into the current season. Janus is fairly convinced it’s all for fun, oftentimes having to hide his laughs/chuckles whenever he playfully makes fun of Virgil. Virgil, on the other hand, is actually a little angry with Janus, so it’s not all fake for him. The worst it’s gotten is a staged “fight” they had between matches, which was quickly broken up by security; neither of them were disqualified or anything, since no one got all that hurt, but Janus had a blackeye and Virgil’s knuckles were sore afterwards.

The twins 100% have a legitimate rivalry going on, which has resulted in several fistfights that have nearly gotten them thrown out of the competition altogether (their father being a fan favorite is pretty much all that’s kept them from being banned, plus the competition runners know it’s (mostly) in good fun and not actual attempts at fratricide). They also play pranks on each other constantly, but will occasionally team up to prank a fellow competitor (last year they rigged one of Logan’s pens to spray him with ink, which resulted in a famous clip of Logan running after the twins while soaked in blue ink, screaming bloodymurder).

I don’t really have a lot of ships for this AU other than Romuceit (Romulus/Deceit), seeing as there’s a lot of family stuff going on, but I’ll probably have hints at Logicality and repressed Prinxiety (Prinxiety I’m a bit scared to fiddle with, seeing as they grew up together, but I dunno still).

Back to the lore: the shit surrounding Romulus and Janus’ families (oh fucking boy).

Only a few years into his Battlebots career, Romulus got news that an ex-flame of his from college had given birth to twin boys; not only were they his, but she didn’t want anything to do with them anymore (they were about three years old at the time). So long as Romulus agreed not to publicly shame his ex/say who she was, she told him that she’d give him full custody of the twins, and he immediately agreed, taking both boys a month after he found out about their existence.

Fans and fellow builders alike believed that Romulus would take a season off to take care of his kids, and a few even feared he’d retire, but to everyone’s shock, Romulus appeared the very next season (this all happened during the off season) with both Roman and Remus riding on his shoulders, Romulus appearing happier than he had in many years.

Romulus took to fatherhood quickly, and with the occasional (secret) helping hand from Janus with babysitting/raising the boys, he continued with his Battlebots career, even winning his first Giant Nut the year he brought in the twins (there’s a famous picture out there of them posing with their dad in front of the Giant Nut).

After that, Romulus considered his boys good luck, and brought them for every single season he competed in. This delighted both fans and builders, as the twins were now considered to be just as much a part of Romulus’ bot as the bot itself (though, the twins occasionally got into trouble when they got older, mostly from pranking other builders, but they never sabotaged anyone or anything extreme like that).

When the twins were around eight years old, Janus adopted a four year old out of the blue (well, out of the blue for viewers and strangers, but he’d been wanting a kid for years before even Romulus got his kids). The kid was named Virgil, and he too quickly became famous in the Battlebots community, oftentimes found being carried around by Janus or napping underneath his father’s workbench.

As expected, the twins became fast friends with Virgil, but unlike the twins, Virgil was very quiet, and was selectively mute until he was about seven years old. Even so, Virgil was still a fan favorite, Janus having him push the button for battles and even letting Virgil occasionally pilot Undercover once he reached twelve years old.

Unfortunately, when the twins were thirteen and Virgil was nine, Romulus very suddenly passed away from an unexpected heart attack. This caused a great deal of drama within the community, viewers and builders alike unsure of what would happen next. After all, didn’t Romulus have sole custody of the twins? Who would take them in? And what about The King?

In an unexpected turn of events, Janus offered to take custody of the twins. This sparked an uproar within the builders community, many speculating that Janus, who was already infamous for his cheap tactics and antisocial behavior, was only taking in the twins so he could steal The King and misuse his blueprints.

In the end, it took Janus agreeing to not touch The King in order to have custody of the twins (something that shouldn’t have been necessary, as he didn’t even want The King, but rumors spiral), and even then there was great unrest, as some truly disgusting rumors started flying around, especially when Janus and Romulus’ romantic relationship was outed to the public.

Nonetheless, Janus adopted both Roman and Remus, and continued to bring them and Virgil along for Battlebots competitions. There was an obvious shift in moods among the boys, all three of them mourning their dead father, but within a few years they returned to being Battlebots’ unofficial child stars.

((There’s more I’ll probably talk about later, like how the twins are getting along (they’re not) and how Janus and Virgil’s falling out happened, but I’ll do that later on; I wanna see if people even give a fuck about this AU first.))

General Rules/Things concerning Battlebots for anyone who knows fuck all about Battlebots

1. More or less, this is a fighting robot competition, but not like the stuff that was on-screen for a few minutes in Big Hero 6: if you want, I can link people with some really good fight examples if you’re curious of how these fights go down.

2. Battlebots is a robot fighting competition, and is one of the most famous ones in the world, located in the USA.There are two Big Trophies (that my dumbass knows of) that you can win in Battlebots: the most coveted prize is the grand prize, that being the “Giant Nut”, which is awarded to the last Bot standing at the end of the competition. The other trophy/prize is the “Giant Bolt”, which is awarded to the season’s Desperado Tournament. (The Desperado Tournament is basically everyone’s last chance to get into the final 16/the true championships, so if your Bot has had a shitty season so far, it’s not a terrible idea to enter the Desperado, but beware, it tends to leave your Bot pretty fucked up by the end, so you’d better be able to repair it afterwards.)3. While it’s all about wrecking/destroying the other team’s Bot, there IS a sense of common courtesy in the competition. It’s good sportsmanship not to kick a Bot while it’s down (unless the Bot’s builder consents/requests you to, which oftentimes happens late in the game/just to please the crowd), and it’s considered very disrespectful to purposefully destroy someone’s internal wiring (say a Bot busts open, and all it’s wires are hanging out of it: it’s considered very inappropriate to then wreck those wires, and you’ll probably get a lot of shit for it in the Battlebox afterwards).4. Battlebots is already somewhat of a “family” thing for a lot of teams, so I’m not just pulling that one out of my ass. One of the most famous family teams is “Son of Whyachi” and pretty much everyone in their family is now involved with Battlebots.5. The gimmick thing that some Bots have isn’t just a dumb joke for Patton: look up the likes of Witch Doctor, Rainbow, and Kraken to get a taste of what I’m talking about.6. I think that’s most of the general stuff… if you have anymore questions, shoot me an Ask/PM and I’ll try to help as much as I can (Just please don’t spoil any of 2019’s Battlebots for me, as I’m not caught up with the show yet)! I’ll post more in-depth rules later on, so if you don’t want to read through all the technical garble on Battlebots’ rules document, I’ll have you covered soon enough!

That’s all I’ve got so far (I’ll probably provide more rules if people want them, and as stated, I’m more than happy to provide good battle examples... I’ll also try to draw/design the bots, but no promises because I’ll certainly suck at it)! Feel free to fuck around with this AU, but please tag me in anything you create, as I’d love to see it!

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darks-ink · 5 years ago

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Play Your Part 5

Chapter 5: Not Only Will I Soar Again

I am Very Boldly posting this chapter with linebreaks and readmores and praying it doesn’t turn out like the last one. And if it does, well... Tumblr let me edit back the readmore today so it won’t be messed up forever, anyway.

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Danny’s eyes watered as he reached out. One hand, shaky with emotion, made contact with the picture. Ultimate proof that it was… that this was real.

“Is-- Is that--”

“A ghost core?” Tucker grinned wider. “That’s exactly what it is, yeah.”

“But then…” Danny frowned, one hand still on the core on the photo, the other reaching for his chest. “Why isn’t it… working, then? If I have the core, why don’t I have the powers?”

“Well, we can’t know for sure, of course, but…” Jazz placed one finger on the photograph as well, tapping the core. “This isn’t an active ghost core. We have pictures of Danny’s, and of a few regular ghosts, and this one looks even less active than Danny’s when he’s in human form.”

“Oh.” One hand still rested on his chest, as if he could feel the core’s hum now that he knew it existed. “How? Why?”

“We already figured that you lost your powers because you purged your ectoplasmic contamination, right?” Jazz shrugged, gently pulling the photograph out of his hand. “In doing so you must’ve run your core out of ectoplasm, forcing it into some sort of hibernation. I think, if we can carefully feed it ectoplasm again, that it might activate again.”

“And that’ll get me my powers again?” Danny brightened up slightly, hope unfurling in his chest. It sounded… it all sounded very possible. Would it just be that easy?

“Well, probably. Like I said, we can’t know until we try.” Jazz sighed, placing the photo on the table Danny was sitting on. “At least I know a good way to get you ectoplasm in a somewhat safe manner.”

“Oh lord, Jazz, you want him to eat--” Tucker made a disgusted face, pretending to vomit. It wasn’t very encouraging, to be honest.

“Oh grow up.” She shoved the boy, turning to Sam, who looked far more steady. “Sam, can you go fetch some of the leftovers in the fridge? You know how to recognize the right ones, yeah?”

“If they try to bite me they’re good.” Sam nodded, turning around like she hadn’t just said that food might actively attack her, hello? What the hell was going on here?

Danny cleared his throat, drawing Jazz’ attention back to him. “What’s, uh. What this ‘safe manner’ of ectoplasm consumption?”

“Well, it’s.” She blushed, twirling a strand of hair as she tried to find the right words. “Uh, you know how in this universe, our parents are ghost hunters?”

“Uh huh,” he said, slowly.

“And ghosts are made out of ectoplasm. Which means that for their inventions, they do a lot of experiments with said ectoplasm, including ways to use this to make food faster?”

“Oh.” He still didn’t understand where she was going with this.

Jazz opened her mouth to explain further, but a strange hissing sounded by the stairs, and Danny twisted to look at that instead. Sam was coming down, her arms full of various plastic containers, some of which were duct-taped shut.

“Got the leftovers you asked for. Is the malevolence directly related to how heavily contaminated they are?”

“I think so.” Jazz shrugged, releasing her hair. “Not sure. Mom and Dad never really looked into it much.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Danny waved his hands around, drawing the attention of everyone else back to him. He ignored the jostling of the plastic bins for the moment. “You want me to eat… contaminated food? Living food?”

“Well, it’s not living, technically.” Jazz wiggled her hand a little, making a so-so motion. “They’re kind of… reanimated, I guess? We’re starting off slow, with the stuff that just glows. Anything that moves we’ll re-cook first.”

“Like the weenies,” Tucker added helpfully, taking one especially violent container from Sam. The duct-tape on it seemed to strain to hold it closed, and through the plastic Danny could see sausage-like shapes bouncing around. “These are definitely some of the worst in the fridge.”

“Yeah, and the fact that they’ve been in there for months hasn’t helped.” Sam shook her head, moving over to the table to put down the other stuff. “Anyway, don’t worry about it, Danny. Our Danny can eat this stuff just fine, and so can any ordinary ghost. We’re not giving it to you until we’re sure you’ve got enough ghost in you to do the same.”

“Oh. Um.” He looked at the boxes that now shifted over the table, driven by the force of their contents. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t thank us until it works, man.” Tucker placed his one container on the table as well. When it immediately threatened to throw itself off again, he placed a heavy-looking invention on top of it. “Seriously, if we make you eat this stuff and it doesn’t work you’ll hate us.”

“Tucker, stop discouraging him,” Jazz scolded, picking up one of the containers that lacked duct-tape. “Danny, it’ll be fine. Mom and Dad and I have eaten this stuff on multiple occasions, and you’re supposed to have this stuff in your body. Do you really think I would be giving this to you if I thought it would be a problem?”

“No,” he said, “but this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried feeding me something weird as a big sister prank.”

Jazz made a face, then nodded. “Ah, I guess that that’s fair.” She opened one box, showing its contents to him. “How do you feel about starting with these mildly glowing carrots?”

Bad, he wanted to say.

“I guess they’re… okay?” he said instead, taking the bin from her. They did, indeed, look like regular carrots. Y’know, if carrots came in ecto-green and glowed. “Do I… have to?”

“You can try the Portal too, if you prefer that,” Sam suggested, leaning against the table. “Get it over with in one quick swoop.”

Danny made a face, then shoved one baby carrot into his mouth. The moment he bit down he pulled a face. It tasted like what he imaged raw ectoplasm might taste like; copper and rusted pennies and something like lemons? Except it still had a mild taste of carrot, and its texture was mostly carrot-like. Mostly, because it was just a little goopy on the inside.

He slapped his free hand over his mouth, trying to push away his desire to puke. Come on Danny, just bite through it!

Swallowing, he made another grimacing face at the others.

“Ah, come on, they’re not that bad.” Jazz clicked her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly. “How is it that you guys in the halfa-universe are less used to eating ectoplasm infused food, huh? Am I the only one wondering about that?”

“No, I was too,” Sam admitted, looking far too amused for Danny’s liking. “And I bet our Danny is, too. He’ll definitely be enjoying the break where he doesn’t have to worry about his lunch coming to life.”

Danny sighed, placing the carrots down again. “Can I try something else? Maybe that’ll be better.”

Tucker snorted disbelievingly, but to his credit, did push one of the other boxes towards Danny. “Here, I think this one is just glowing toast.”

“Ugh, toast.” He pulled off the lid, revealing, indeed, several slices of ecto-green toast. “Well, can’t be worse than regular toast, right?”

He took a bite of one of the slices. Wow, hey, that’s actually worse than regular toast, who would’ve thought? Again that taste of copper and lemons and sour metal, although the inside wasn’t quite as soft as with the carrots. Just felt like untoasted bread instead of goop.

“Well?” Tucker asked, a grin on his face again. “Better or worse?”

“Better than the carrots,” Danny said as he swallowed the bite. “And honestly? Not much worse than regular toast.”

“You want jam or something with that?” Sam asked, turning one of the slices in her hand as she looked it over. “That might mask the taste a little.”

“Hm, maybe.” He took another bite, trying to chew it away quickly. “Egh, yeah, let’s give that a shot if you’ve got some.”

“I’ll go look,” Jazz said, ruffling his hair as she passed him by. “Sam, Tucker, stay out of trouble.”

“Trouble?” Tucker gasped dramatically. “We would never!”

Danny shot him an unimpressed look as he chewed away another bite of sour toast. “You two literally tried to zap me with a giant ghost portal while she was away.”

“Don’t get involved, Fenton.” Tucker swung a finger in his direction. “Eat your toast and shut up.”

“Yes sir.” He took another bite of the toast. Against all expectations, he was actually kind of getting used to the taste of ectoplasm-infused food. It felt kind of warm in his throat, like it was melting as he chewed it away.

He’d finished his first slice of toast when Jazz reappeared downstairs, carrying a few types of jam and some margarine. “Wasn’t sure what would go best with, uh, ectoplasm,” she said, blushing a little. “What do you want to try first?”

“Margarine, I guess?” He shrugged, picking up a new slice of toast to butter it. “I think I just had to get used to the toast, anyway. It’s not too bad anymore. Kind of nice, actually? Warm and melty.”

Jazz frowned, sharing a glance with Sam and Tucker. “Warm? Ectoplasm is cold and goopy, usually.”

“Oh.” Danny took a bite of his still-unbuttered toast, tasting it carefully. “No, it definitely tastes warm. Like, pleasant warm, like honey?”

“Maybe that’s what it tastes like for half-ghosts?” Tucker suggested, his brow creased in consideration. “They are made out of the stuff, so of course it wouldn’t feel cold to them.”

“Does that mean it’s working?” Danny asked as he started buttering the toast. The taste of lemon and metal hadn’t gone away entirely, and he wasn’t too hot on it still. “If I just keep eating enough toast, that’ll fix my core? It’s really just that easy?”

“I mean, you’ll probably have to move on to something stronger eventually.” Sam tapped on one of the taped boxes, ignoring the way it jerked in response. “Danny has a lot of ectoplasm in his body, usually. If you want to recover all of that in a short time, you’ll need to eat more ectoplasm and less actual food. There’s only so much food you can eat before you’re full, after all.”

“Right.” He took a bite of buttered toast. Not bad, actually. The butter definitely offset the sourness, even if wasn’t entirely functional against the taste of copper. “So when should I switch, if the higher amounts could be dangerous?”

“Finish off all the toast first, then we’ll see.” Jazz looked distastefully at the weenie-container, which seemed to be trying to throw off the heavy weight that pinned it down. “Honestly, we might try roasting the weenies. They’re definitely the highest in ectoplasm to food ratio, and they won’t fill much either way.”

Danny eyed the box suspiciously. Then, rather than speak up about the fact that these hot dogs might just be the most dangerous thing in the lab, he took another bite of toast.

“We, uh, should probably get them roasting sooner than later, then.” Tucker leaned down next to the box, his frown deepening. “I think that they’re trying to chew through the plastic.”

“Do you think the Thermos would work on them?” Sam asked, her tone light as if this was perfectly normal. “Or are they not ghostly enough?”

“That might just suck out all the ectoplasm and leave behind the weenies.” Jazz sighed, stepping away to dig through some equipment. “If they break out, just trap them in something metal. Or, like, trap them in a box with something else and let that distract them. I’ll look for something moderately safe to cook them with.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tucker declared cheerfully, frown gone again. He picked up a larger plastic bin, opening it and peeking inside. “Ah, non-sentient ham. That should keep them occupied if they break out.”

Sam sighed and shook her head, but didn’t comment. Danny shoved another piece of toast inside his mouth. If she didn’t want to comment, neither did he.

But, really. How was this world so much crazier than his own world? Is this what their planet would be like if it was ruled by humans instead of half-ghosts? Crazy. Maybe they really were still out there somewhere, surviving unseen thanks to their sheer insanity.

“Well, so, most of the stuff I found I wouldn’t trust around food,” Jazz said plainly as she rejoined them. In one hand she held a metal pot, the inside stained a suspicious mix of green and black. The other, she held behind her back. “I wouldn’t worry about the ectoplasm on this, except that it seems to be burned to hell and back, and I don’t think the charcoal will be any good. And I don’t trust the bunsen burners with this, either.”

She placed the burned pan on a nearby table, then swung the object in her other hand around to her front, using her other hand to hold it up as well. It looked like a weapon, but not any Danny was familiar with. Sci-fi esque, silver with glowing green accents. Round and shiny, like a cylinder with another cylinder on top. This, at least, looked kind of like the water containers on a water gun. The vivid green really just kind of reinforced this appearance.

“I don’t think I’m familiar with that one.” Sam stepped closer, twisting her head to look at the weapon. “What is it? A flamethrower?”

“Yep,” she simply said, placing it in Sam’s arms. “Here you go, I’m pretty sure you’re the best shot of all of us.”

“Tuck’s pretty good too, and you’re not too shabby either.” But as she said this, Sam shifted the flamethrower in her arms, gripping it properly. She grinned like she was absolutely loving this. God, humans were scary. Danny was faintly sorry that he had ever felt lesser for thinking he was human if they were all like this.

Rather than get involved, he took another bite of toast and jumped off of the table. He could watch the proceedings from somewhere further away, he was sure.

Tucker lifted the machine off of the bin that contained the hot dogs, pinning the box down with his own strength instead. “I’ll count down and then dump them on the table. Got it?”

Sam, grin widening, nodded. “Got it.” She turned to gun onto Tucker, holding it steady with one finger already on the trigger. “On 3?”

“I was thinking on fire, actually.” Tucker nodded back, licked his lips, then started counting. “3. 2.”

“1,” the both of them counted in sync, muscles bunching as they got ready.

“Fire!” Tucker shouted, peeling the container open and spilling the contents onto the table, then stepping back in the same swift motion.

The hot dogs seemed thrown off by the sudden movement, sitting dazedly on the metal tabletop a long moment. They were ecto-green, glowing, and they seemed to have… eyes and pointed teeth? Yikes.

On the shout Sam had pulled the trigger, and bright flames spilled from the gun. Despite his expectations, they weren’t pure green; pink was scattered throughout the flames, and the inner column was white-hot.

The reanimated meat screeched when the flames reached them, but they were quickly silenced under the steady fire.

An unmeasurably long moment later, Sam cut off the flames. Jazz stepped forward to inspect the results, expression carefully blank. Then she smiled, expression lighting up. “Looks good to me! I think we can finally put the Frankenweenies to use.”

“Frankenweenies?” Danny repeated incredulously, swallowing his last bite of toast. “Really?”

Jazz hummed. When she turned back to him, she was holding one of the hot dogs pinched between her fingers. The flames hadn’t lessened its glow, but they had turned it into a darker green. The eyes and mouth seemed to have somehow disappeared entirely. “What do you think? Does it look appealing?”

“No,” Danny said honestly, taking it from her. “But neither did the toast.”

He took a bite, chewing it experimentally. The skin was like… not like a hot dog, but more like a regular sausage? Somewhat tough, a little chewy, but not in a bad way. The inside was soft and warm and gooey, and actually kinda sweet. Like it was filled with honey.

“That’s… pretty good, actually,” he said when he swallowed it. “I mean, I don’t think it beats actual food, especially since the green is a real deterrent, but…”

“What, the glow is fine with you?” Sam scoffed, but the smile on her face didn’t leave. “Priorities, Danny.”

“Eh, the glow isn’t too out of place where I’m from.” Danny shrugged, taking another bite of the hot dog and swallowing it. “With all the half-ghosts and stuff. My parents, especially Mom, they use telekinesis pretty often, so stuff often glows in and around the house.”

“That’s fair,” Sam decided, nodding approvingly. Her fingers drummed on the barrel of the flamethrower. “Hey Jazz, do you want this thing back or can I keep it?”

“If you get in trouble for having it I’m not taking responsibility.” Jazz crossed her arms, twisting to look at Sam. “My parents will just blame its disappearance on a ghost anyway.”

“Nice.” Sam flipped a switch on the side, and the glowing elements dulled down. A safety switch, then. “I’ll find a spot for it, don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” Jazz said, just as Danny hiccuped. Loudly.

“Sorry,” he apologized, hiccuping again. Something in his chest rattled strangely. “I think something didn’t go down right.”

He clenched his eyes closed, dropping the half-eaten sausage back on the table. His other hand came up to claw at his chest. Something felt wrong, it hurt, it hurt--

Another hiccup, following with a thrum in his chest. He opened his eyes again, staring wide-eyed at his friends, his sister, hoping for some sort of help or advice or--

“Look!” Jazz exclaimed, enthusiastically. “See, I told you it would be fine!”

“Fine?!” Danny bit back, his voice peaking up high as a hiccup burst through the last half of the word.

“Well, yeah, obviously.” Jazz gestured at him like it was an explanation. “See, and your eyes brightened even further. Must be your core.”

Tucker frowned, looking a little concerned. “Are you alright, dude? Besides the hiccuping, obviously.”

Danny groaned back, his fingers digging into his chest even more. His core? Was that what this was? Why did it-- “Why does it hurt?”

“It’s not… supposed to.” Jazz darted closer, suddenly, kneeling a little to look at his face. She pried his hand off of his chest, placing her own there instead. “Maybe it’s because it was out of energy for so long? Like when you boot up a machine after it’s been off for really long, and it sounds like it’s struggling to get functional again?”

“Or like when your muscles hurt way more if you haven’t been active in a while?” Sam suggested, tone not as jubilant anymore. “That could be it, yeah. Should we hold off and give it time to work through it, or should we try feeding it more energy?”

“I don’t know,” Jazz said, slowly. “Danny, do you think you could eat?”

“Dunno.” He huffed, feeling faintly breathless. It felt like something was burrowing in his chest, trying to shove all his organs aside to make room for itself. “Maybe.”

“Alright, that’s a no in Danny-speak.” Jazz took him by the arm, gently tugging him towards a table. “Sit down, tell us if it gets worse.”

He nodded, letting her shove him onto the table. He tried clawing at his chest again, but Jazz swatted his hand away and he gave up.

It was hard for him to tell how much time passed. For most of it, he had his eyes closed, focusing exclusively on the feeling in his chest. As the pain receded, he started to feel his core more clearly. It was pulsing, thrilling and humming in his chest. Like a heart, but also… not? It was clearly trying to drag in energy, awake but not… not satisfied, he didn’t think.

Once it felt as stable as it would get, he opened his eyes again, looking at his best friends as his sister. “It, uh. I think it’s done. But I don’t think that it has all the power it needs, still.”

Jazz nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Didn’t think so. But we got it enough energy to wake up, so if it’s functional we can try feeding ectoplasm straight to your ghost form.” She started, looking at him somewhat guiltily. “If you’re okay with that, of course.”

“I mean… sure? Assuming that I can shift right now.” He shrugged, then settled one hand on the back of his neck to rub it.

“Do your parents have some of that Ecto-Dejecto still?” Sam asked, turning towards Jazz. “Danny uses it sometimes when he’s really really out of energy, but I think he stockpiles it all in his walls.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea.” Jazz perked up, gesturing at one of the nearby drawers. “I think they have some in there?”

Sam hummed, moving to search it. “Worst come to worst, we can try having Danny search through his own walls. If, uh, he can maintain that kind of intangibility, that is.”

He made a face, not that she could see. “Yeah, let’s not risk that.”

“Oh, wait, here it is already.” Sam straightened up, a tube of unnaturally bright ectoplasm in her hand. “We just need a needle, and for Danny to shift into his ghost form.”

“At least we won’t have to fight with his sleeve this time,” Tucker joked, nudging Danny. “Did you know how much of a hassle that is, to roll up the sleeves of those jumpsuits? Absolutely awful.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind?” He tried mentally poking his core. How were you supposed to shift to your ghost form, anyway? He thought he was doing it right, but he had no way of knowing whether he was doing it wrong, or if his core just didn’t have enough energy. “When should I shift?”

“Now’s fine,” Sam said, reappearing with a worryingly large syringe. It was filled with the same fake ectoplasm as the vial before. The ‘Ecto-Dejecto’, presumably. “We’re ready if you are.”

“Oh, joy,” he muttered, stirring his core more forcibly. He tried to encourage it, tried to picture himself as the photos he’d seen of Phantom. Tried to goad it with the lure of more energy.

Then, suddenly, it was like lightning crackled through him. Pure energy burst forth, sparking through his flesh and his skin but not hurting him. It formed a ring, bright and luminescent, and Danny felt like he could cry.

As with everyone else, with every shift he’d ever witnessed, the ring split into two. Twin halos of pure light danced over his body, inverting the colors everywhere they passed, until he was left in his black shirt and with white hair hanging down in his eyes.

“Arm,” Sam immediately commanded, like she hadn’t just witnessed something incredible and life-changing. When he didn’t respond, Jazz grabbed it and pulled it towards Sam for him.

He was so occupied with, well, everything, that he didn’t even notice the needle until its contents were being pushed into his body. It wasn’t even cold, not really. Just… weird? Very energetic. His core thrilled, immediately pulling in the energy provided.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, feeling the pulse of power throughout his entire body. His core hummed so loud that he wondered if everyone else could hear it, too, like the purr of a cat. “That’s… holy shit.”

“Sounds like it worked,” Tucker commented dryly, not even bothering to hide his smile. “Feeling good, ghost boy?”

“Yeah,” he answered, breathlessly. “Yeah, wow. It’s like… Like this weight in my chest is gone, suddenly. Like I’ve been dragging around my core this whole time, like a ball and chain, and finally I’m free.”

“How poetic.” Sam grinned, nudging him playfully. “Want to take your powers for a spin?”

“In the lab?” he asked, already pushing off of the table. “Are you sure?”

“We train Danny’s powers here all the time,” Tucker said dismissively, flapping a hand. “And it’ll be safer here than outside.”

“Fair enough.” He bounced a little on the ground, feeling lighter than usual. He wondered how floating worked. Didn’t it come naturally to--

“Oh.” He flipped in the air, maneuvering like he’s been doing it his whole life. “Wow, that’s really fun. Now I get why everyone’s always flying everywhere.”

“I guess I should’ve seen that coming.” Jazz grinned at him. “Danny’s favorite power is flight, too.”

“I can’t blame him!” Danny exclaimed, flying a lap at moderate speed through the lab. “It’s so much fun!”

“Alright, well, let’s run through a few more powers. Hopefully establishing that your powers work will trigger the switch back.”

“Yeah,” Danny hummed, feeling his core pulse with happiness at the thought of showing his parents his powers, before a spike of dread stabbed through it. “Unless your Danny has something he needs to achieve, too.”

Danny’s eyes watered as he reached out. One hand, shaky with emotion, wrapped around his mother’s wrist. “Wait.”

“Yes, sweetie?” She crouched down in front of him, smiling softly. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t.”

“Can’t what, kiddo?” His dad frowned as he, too, crouched by Danny.

“I…” He groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re all so nice.”

“Of course they are,” Jazz said, voice carefully blank. “They’re our parents. When have they ever not been nice?”

“That’s complicated,” he muttered back through his fingers. They’d never meant to be mean towards him, of course, but… but they’d uttered plenty of insults and threats towards Phantom. And that was… it was just hard to ignore, especially when faced with such complete and utter acceptance.

A silence fell, and Danny got the feeling that his parents and sister were sharing confused glances.

“What do you mean, son?” his dad finally asked, uncertainly. “We’ve always tried…”

I know.” He dragged his hands off of his face to shoot them a look that hopefully expressed how lost he felt. “You’ve been nothing but nice, I know. But you’re not-- I am not--” He groaned again, now in frustration at himself and his trouble to put his feelings into words.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you Danny?”

“Is he what?” his mom asked, at the same time that he shook his head. While she snapped her jaw shut, he corrected himself by nodding, then made a so-so motion with his hand.

“I’m Danny Fenton,” he finally said, giving up on his attempt at miming out an answer. “But I’m not… your Danny.”

“Oh,” both of his parents chimed, perfectly synced.

“Yeah.” He dragged a hand through his eyes, wiping away the half-formed tears. “I’m… yeah. It’s, um. Complicated, I guess.”

“How?” His mom reached for him, twisting his head like she could suddenly see differences that didn’t exist before. “Why? What happened to our Danny?”

“I… I don’t know. I really really don’t know,” he admitted, much as it pained him. “I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t understand it. Usually if I get brought to a different timeline I’m told why, what I’m supposed to do. Not…” he gestured vaguely. “Not this.”

“And our son?” his mom repeated. “What about him?”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Danny dragged his hand through his hair, mussing the black locks up beyond their normal mess. “Sam and Tucker and Jazz will take care of him. They’re good at that kinda stuff. They’ll catch on quickly, I bet.”

“That’s good.” His mom – this version of her – patted him on the arm. Her expression was hard to read, though. “Now, what was this about your parents, sweetie?”

“I, um.” He blushed, licked his lips. “It’s. Complicated. Like I said. They don’t… they don’t mean it, they’re nice, but it’s…”

He hummed, looking at his hands in his lap. “You know how you’re all half-ghosts, and so am I?”

“Yes?” His mom frowned a little, shooting a short glance towards Jack. “Is that not… Is that a problem, back home?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, because I never told them.” He blew out a breath, the confession making him feel lighter. Not much, but, well. A little. “It’s… You know how you’re human hunters, here? Well, my parents, they hunt ghosts.”

“Oh,” his dad said on his other side, voice low and quiet.

“Yeah.” Danny sighed, thumbs twirling. “They, um. They’ve seen me in my ghost form, but they didn’t know it was me. I’m the only half-ghost in town, so I… fight the other ghosts? To protect the town. But they don’t see it like that. They just see an aggressive ghost causing trouble.”

“They hurt you,” Jazz stated, her voice clearly forced into neutrality to cover up her emotions. “Right? They’ve hurt you, but they didn’t know it was you because you never told them. And they don’t think of the similarities, because they don’t think half-ghosts can exist.”

He barked out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, you nailed it. They’ve, uh. Made something of a habit out of threatening and insulting ‘Phantom’ around me and Jazz. They work on their inventions in the lab and in the kitchen, and they keep going off near me, and one day--” He snapped his mouth shut, shaking off the thought.

“And you’re afraid that one day it’ll go wrong.” Light flashed as Maddie shifted back to her human form without moving. Her hand, laying on Danny’s, became marginally warmer. “You’re afraid of your parents, because they don’t know that their prey and their son are the same person.”

Danny nodded, listlessly.

“Can I offer some advice?” Jazz asked, her hand on his knee. She continued before he got a chance to answer. “Tell them.”

“What?” he frowned at her.

“Tell them,” Jazz repeated, looking from him to their parents. “You’re afraid because they don’t know that you’re half-ghost. So tell them.”

“But they-- They hate ghosts.” He gestured with his free hand, leaving the one with Maddie’s hand on it. “They hate ghosts with such fervor that they’ve dedicated their life to getting rid of every single one of them!”

“Danny.” His dad caught his free hand, gently placing it down and pinning it with his own warm hand. At some point he, too, had shifted back to human form. “Danny, I don’t know how different your version of me is, but I can tell you one thing with absolute certainty. The most important thing in my life, always and ever, is my family. And that includes my son, human or ghost or half-ghost.”

“Oh,” he said, soundlessly. “But--”

“What about your sister?” his mother asked, suddenly, cocking her head at him. “You said that she would help, and Sam and Tucker. Does she know?”

“Uh…” Danny twitched at the non-sequitur. “Yeah? I mean, I didn’t tell her, but she figured it out on her own.”

“And she hasn’t recommended that you tell your parents?” this Jazz asked, brow quirked. “She didn’t comment on the secret-keeping, on the damage it could do?”

“I, well…” he sighed, letting his head hang. “She did, actually. But she’s… big on letting me tell people at my own pace. And she’s heard the vitriol my parents spit, so…”

“So she should’ve encouraged you to tell them,” Jazz insisted, more forcefully. “Danny, you need your family. You can’t hide this. Do you really think that they haven’t noticed that something changed, that their relationship somehow got damaged and they don’t even know what happened?”

“I… oh.” He looked at his hands, both covered by his parents’ hands. “I hadn’t… thought about that.”

Maddie sighed. “And I guess I didn’t think about how we might’ve done something similar to our Danny, insisting that he had to be half-ghost as well.”

“Well, how about this, then,” Danny said, trying to summon his bravery a little. He could, at least, help this other version of himself, right? That’s what heroes did, and he was a hero. “You tell him that you love him, that you accept him, half-ghost or not, and I’ll tell my parents.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” his dad boomed, his characteristic grin finally reappearing. His free hand clapped on Danny’s back. “Now we just need to figure out how to get you back!”

Danny opened his mouth to reply, but halted as a pulse of energy ripped through the atmosphere. He couldn’t tell where it came from, just felt the pure power hum--

White light blinded him, energy ripping at his body, he didn’t know what was happening, and--

Then, blissfully, he passed out.

#danny phantom #phanfic #dp fanfic #fanfiction #danny fenton #dark writes #play your part #if this posts without a readmore again i will break something #i dont Trust this website anymore lmao im definitely gonna do something different for weirdward

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fictionalabyss · 5 years ago

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Do 'em all 🤣🤣

You jerk rofl. Okay, this is gonna take a while..

also under a readmore cuz long.

1. describe yourself.- Mel, 32, mom of two, mental health issues, and no idea of who I am or ever was.. lover, fighter, spiteful, friendlier than I’d care to admit. I think that about does it?

2. if you could go anywhere for a week all expenses paid where would it be? I’d be willing to go to a lot of places, honestly. Scotland is top of the list if I can count a wedding as an expense haha.

3. do you have siblings? On my mothers side, no, I’m an only child. On my fathers side, I have a half brother, and two step brothers. I haven’t seen them since I was 11 though, but they’ve been added to my fb and now ignore my existence there.

4. what is your favorite constellation, why? Don’t think I have a favourite.

5. favorite color. Don’t have one. I like different colours for different things, and even that can change with my mood.

6. what kind of music do you listen to? Pretty much everything. My workout music (basically the only time i have time for music) ranges from the 50′s cowboy and love songs all the way to more current EDM and some metal. You introduced me to Mongolian metal, and I’ve come across and Indian metal band that has a song about fighting depression, and I love them so much. I’m still sad to have missed both Babymetal and Alestorm (Scottish pirate metal) when they came to town. Alestorm actually offered me free tickets if they could name Matrim when I was pregnant rofl.

7. favorite flower. (you can name as many as you want cause flowers are awesome) Wild flowers. I have violets that grow wild in my back yard and I love them.

8. if you could do magic, what is the first spell you would learn? I think at most, I’d like to learn minor healing, or something that would attract goodness to people.

9. favorite childhood memory.The memory of Pat getting in the baby swing and yelling “push me on the swing, mommy!” and me pushing him as high as I could and leaving him there when he got stuck roflrofl. We were 9, and it’s basically how this relationship started. I was annoyed, he was in love. I’m still annoyed but now we’re both in love.

10. have you ever been cheated on? Not that I’m aware of, but that might not have been for a lack of trying. WORD ON THE STREET WAS one of my ex’s was trying to get with someone else while with me and was turned down.

11. if you could describe your perfect room, what would it be? Big and spacious. Super comfy bed, plenty of pillows. But also a little corner with a fort that I can be little in. Close proximity to both bathroom and kitchen for obvious reasons. Big window with cute curtains. and all the thing my current room has, but less unfolded laundry rofl.

12. favorite animal. Don’t have one, but it for sure isn’t a fkin slug I’ll tell you that. Pete the peeper ruined that for all slugs.

13. what was the last photo you took of? Luke’s new pokemon cards so I could show Pat while he was at work.

14. do you believe in soul mates? I do. I believe that soulmates aren’t just lovers, but that you can have many people that your soul resonates with. I had one, or thought I did, until I was dropped like hot garbage and shit was said behind my back like I’d never find out. The fucked up part, if I got an apology, I’d probably believe them and let them back into my life like I did last time. Because I’m a fucking sucker and a slave to my heart. But the more you hurt me, the harder you have to work for my trust so I’ll probably never get one. Too much work.

15. do you hang toilet paper over or under? I have a toddler, so under so he can’t just unravel the whole fucking thing into the toilet by slapping his hand on it.

16. your go to place to eat & your favorite thing to get there. Greenstop and Poutine. They have this killer brown gravy omg.

17. do you believe everything happens for a reason? yeah. Everything is either a consequence to our actions, or a lesson to be learned. Karma, my friend. And sometimes, bad shit just happens so you have room in your life for better things. That’s how I got you and Kay.

18. guilty pressures? You mean other than 80′s and 90′s one hit wonders?

19. favorite mythical creature, why? Dragon. Cuz...dragon?

20. something most people don’t know about you. Uh.. not everyone knows me to be as friendly as you tumblr peeps do. Truth is, I’m kind of known as a bitch in person. I don’t socialize well because of my crippling anxiety, and have RBF, so people just assume. Others know it as fact because I treat people the way they treat me.

21. where did you grow up, what was it like? at 8, I moved across the street from where I live now. Before that, I lived in ‘The Point’ but most of my childhood memories are of here. A lot of my neighbours are the same people. I grew up in the 90′s, so we use to play in the street day and night and there were no worries. I’d go from park to park, house to house, just wandering from place to place with my friends. No parents, just us, as long as I got everyone back out front by the time the street lights came on, and then it was hide and seek in the dark while all the parents drank on one of the balconies and watched. It’s not like that here anymore.

22. do you believe aliens exist? You’d be an idiot to think that we are the only lifeforms anywhere.

23. what was your last google search? Big Iron by Marty Robbins.

24. what did your last relationship teach you? You really wanna get into that? It taught me that no matter what I know about a person, I don’t know them. If they talk shit about other people to me, they are talking shit about me to other people. It taught me that just because they earned my trust once, doesn’t mean they should get a free pass on it for life, that I should make them keep earning it. And finally, than when they say “I’ll understand if it doesn’t work out” it’s bullshit. I’ll end up tossed aside and forgotten while I break. And when I realize I deserve better and move on, everything becomes my fault.

25. would you relocate for love? depends where. Example : I love Kay, but I ain’t moving to Florida roflrofl.

26. do you hold grudges or forgive easy? Forgive far too easily the first few times. After that, fuck you.

27. favorite book. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

28. do you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert? Introvert.

29. have you ever kept a journal, do you now? I have attempted to a few times. Didn’t work out. so no.

30. top 5 favorite movies. Porky’s trilogy. Ginger Snaps trilogy. uhhhhhhm.. fuck.. idk, why do you do this to me, I can’t pick favourites.

31. do you believe that everything happens for a reason? We already went over this.

32. what is your greatest fear? Falling.

33. favorite alcoholic beverage. Jack, disarono, Fluffed marshmallow vodka. UPPERCUT. legit, go into a bar and order an uppercut.

34. most embarrassing thing you’ve done. If i could think of something, I wouldn’t tell you guys muahahha.

35. do you believe in ghosts? not sure.

36. what is the best and worst part of your personality? That I’m nicer than I’d like to be. I’m mush. I’m forgiving and kind, and loving and sometimes I hate it.

37. should you split the dinner bill? Who am I at dinner with?

38. are you a good liar? Fuck no roflroflrofl. I’m the worst at it.

39. what keeps you up at night? these days, story ideas.

40. would you rather go without your phone or music? bye bye music.

41. do you believe in god? Nope.

42. how do you relax when frustrated? Mindless game on my phone, nap, or binge something.

43. what’s something that offends you? people. People offend me.

44. favorite food I’m a sucker for a good lasagne. but also cheesecake. I can never have too much cheesecake. I mean, I can, I’m lactose intolerant, but shush. Something are worth it.

45. if you were on a 10 hour flight and could sit and talk to any person the entire time, who would it be? If there’s booze on the flight, anyone. if not, literally no one. I’ll just pound back some Oxazepam and nap. wake me up when we get there.

46. when do you feel the most confident? never. ROFL.

47. what do you do on your free time? What is free time?

48. is there anyone who has completely lost your respect Oh yeah. If you’ve read this far, you might have an idea.

49. have you ever broken someone’s heart? Probably not, no.

50. did/do you play sports in school? In gym class. Oh, and I did that one summer to Tball and hated it.

51. when are you happiest? when I'm asleep.

52. coffee or tea? Tea. fuck your coffee.

53. what is one possession you own you wouldn’t want to live without? internet.

54. what is the first thing you notice about a person? Height.

55. what is your favorite season, why? I love winter, because I love everything looking so white and clean when the snow is fresh. But I also love spring because of the rain, and summer for storms and fall for colors and good weather.

56. what makes you laugh? What doesn’t.

57. are you a clean or messy person? I was given the nickname ‘Messy’ at 10 for a reason. It still applies.

58. what is important for a successful relationship? Be it friendship or romantic relationship, my answer is the same. Trust and Honesty.

59. what was your upcoming like? Do you mean upbringing? I had a single mom who worked all the time. I was pretty independent.

60. favorite holiday? Christmas.

61. what is the first thing you’d do if you won the lottery? pay off debts.

62. what’s the best pizza topping combination? Bacon crumble and cheese. Not bacon bits, fuck that shit. Bacon fucking crumble. its like, little balls of bacon or something and not many places have it anymore *sad panda*

63. favorite outdoor activity. meditation. Does that count? I just like to be barefoot outside.

64. how are you? honestly. It’s 9 am, and I’m already getting frustrated with kids. And I have a soccer game and medal ceremony coming up soooooooooooo.

65. would you rather go camping in the woods or stay at a beach resort? how about cabin in the woods, ooooor a beach resort with woods backing it. yeah.

66. what is the most beautiful thing in nature? everything.

67. favorite type of candy? Don’t got one.

68. if your life was a book, what would be the title? something super depressing, I’m sure.

69. what movie quotes do you use of a regular bases? “Later masturbater” (The Pest)

70. what was cool when you were young but not cool now? Frosted tips, mesh shirts, and snap away track pants on men HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA,. Oh, them early 00′s. I legit saw someone wearing them a few years ago and almost died.

71. what’s the craziest conversation you have ever eves dropped on? dunno hombre.

72. what’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched? uhhhhhhh

73. what’s the worst hairstyle you’ve had? again, 90′s. Mushroom cut with a nike check saved in the back HAHAHAHAHA. Oh man, everyone had that way back when.

74. what do you like to cook? most things.

75. what’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild? wild beavers make me happy.

76. what’s the funniest tv show you’ve ever seen? Japanese game shows. nothing is as funny as japanese games shows. Human Tetris for example is fucking hilarious.

77. do you usually follow your heart or your head? Heart. Unfortunately.

78. what is your favorite quote? I’m not sure these days.

79. what’s the weirdest crush you have ever had? I’m not sure..

80. what’s your love language? I dunno. I legit just had to google what they were, and I’m not sure which.

81. do you ever feel alone? Always.

82. ever been bullied? Far too many times.

83. are you usually early or late? Early, thanks anxiety.

84. what kind of art do you enjoy most? these days, written. But I love paintings the most, i think.

85. what do you wish you knew more about? Everything. If I could, I’d go to school and learn everything that interests me even the slightest.

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oppressiveliberator · 6 years ago

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what age did Ghetsis discover that he had magic abilities? What can he do with his magic?

((Again, if this doesn’t answer! Because when I start rambling I always, always go off track!! Feel free to ask for more info! Hell, feel free to ask for more regardless lol

ALSO ONCE AGAIN PLEASE FORGIVE ME APP USERS THERE IS REALLY A READMORE THERE BUT. /GESTURES @ TUMBLR

OKAY SO GHETSIS AND HIS MAGIC.

Ghetsis discovered his magical abilities somewhere around the ages of 3-5. When he showed his parents, they were quick and harsh to shut him down for his unnatural and freakish display. This didn't put him off, however, only annoyed him and made him question why this was such a problem when his skill in damn near everything else was praiseworthy, but eventually he skulked off to the Harmonia Estate library and records and began to seek out knowledge on the matter. Between diaries and history books and magic books, over time he learned to use magic on his own.

Ghetsis's magic is tied to his life force. As a result, if he overmagics himself, he's in actual grave danger. So he tries not to overuse his magic considering magical exhaustion has done him dirty in the past.

A Harmonia's powers are typically divided into passive(a usually singular inherit thing that, so long as they aren't completely ignored or rejected and unindulged, typically persist at all times without any conscious effort on the part of the user) and active(powers that need to be used with some deliberation or exertion such as emotional intensity or frustration and so on.)

Ghetsis's passive power is the ability he's well known for--his ability to get his way. Ghetsis is naturally and with minimal effort and based on will and intent, able to talk his way into somebody's head to get his bidding done and to be believed and obeyed--it’s not infallible, but it’s pretty easy to be lulled into it for your average person. He first noticed the passive power when he was singing on stage--I'm not fully certain how it went down, but it was something to the effect of that he somehow managed to sing with such passion that he magically drew the crowd's undivided attention. I mean like. Babies stopped crying to listen to him sing. It was a strange sort of hypnotic ability and simply because he was passionate and wanted to be heard. Not on purpose.

(Ghetsis learned to suppress this ability over time, preferring the challenge of psychological manipulation without magical assistance. At present, it's not usually 'activated' beyond that he's got a fairly intimidating and dominating aura about him, and people feel inclined to listen to him. Believing him, however, is usually simply his own studies of psychology and manipulation at work--not only can he magic his way into your head, but he's gotten to the point that he really doesn't have to and can do it without any magical interference. Dangerous.)

The active abilities vary. Generally I leave it as a sort of vague ability to manipulate the world around him to certain degrees. Ghetsis can do this on his own--manipulate elements, for example. However, he can also call upon/use other things to use their energy/power and put less strain on himself:

The Victini movies I believe introduced the Dragon Force, an invisible energy, that the People of the Vale(whom i headcanon to be the Harmonias) used to cultivate their land and live in harmony and prosperity, until the Twin heroes fought and caused a war. This caused the dragon force to go wild, giving Kyurem the energy for both Twins’ perspectives on the situation to split from it up Zekrom and Reshiram. Unsatisfied with this, the Dragon Force continued to run rampant with the intensity of the Twins's feelings and anger and the disruption of the harmony that had been, even after the war had ended, and began to wreak dangerous havoc and destroy the area, leaving the once fertile land barren and turning it into desert.

Eventually, The King Of The Vale(King Harmonia,) with his partner Victini, moved the Sword of the Vale--a big ass sword-looking building that's kinda part of the Harmonia estate now--to Eindoak town which somehow put the Dragon Force back in check by sealing it up--if the Sword of the Vale were to be moved somehow, then the Dragon Force would leak out again(i still haven't seen the movies and i really really should.) However the dragon force remains in the earth. . .and Ghetsis calls upon it when using magic that affects the world around him to make it easier and less dangerous for himself.

I'll usually describe it as some kind of fog or smoke coming from the ground, usually green or purple. Used unwisely the Dragon Force can make a big mess of the world. But since ghetsis is magically capable, even when he uses it for ill, it doesn't go wild like it did back then. Yet.

He can also call upon the power of legendary and mythical Pokémon, namely Unovan ones, and this is also part of the power of the Dragon Force--rather, he uses it to reach the Pokémon to use power from it. The thing is that Ghetsis doesn't ask for this power. He demands it and commands it to be given.

Fortunately he doesn't do this a ton and, if he does, it's usually for minor things that the legendary won't notice too much if he draws it out--if he went too hard on this, he'd probably be in trouble with a lot of Pokémon, but as it is he's taking like. The equivalent of a shed hair magically, on average if he does this. It’s not something they really notice on average, unless they’re not being acknowledged by other entities at the time--like, imagine that a god hears all these requests and prayers, so one is gonna be a drop in the bucket, but if there aren’t many then each one is gonna be a little more noticeable even when expected, you feel me?

Next is ancestral spirits. Because in the past the Harmonias used magic, the remains of their spirits are magically powerful as well. And with magic remaining dormant in most of his family, of he's near one of them, he can take from the magic they don't use(as long as it isn't too much, given that that would kill them)--but the spirits and remaining of deceased ancestors is more powerful and are more malleable to use to manipulative the world around him. Of course, if they don't like something he's doing. . .well, again. the dragon force can be used to force their compliance, but generally if they don't like it, it’s not easy or advisable to draw on them.

Finally. . .Kyurem. Ghetsis controlled Kyurem without any Pokéballs or anything. He's Kyurem's sort of hero the way N and the Protag are the Heroes of Truth/Ideals--I may refer to him as the Hero of Ambition sometimes just so the naming scheme is complete. So he can call upon Kyurem to a greater degree as well--which typically manifests in the form of STAB if he were using ice. So. Flying and dragon types fuckin beware i guess.

(Hell, he doesn’t really even need to call on Kyurem sometimes, especially since Kyurem is very much dormant--it doesn’t have much better to do and will just kinda support him in general. But since he’s not usually with it it’s not as strong as it could be. Still a force to be reckoned with, still a big legendary ice dragon connected to his person.)

His powers are watered down from the powers Harmonias had thousands of years ago due to lack of use, so they aren't Pokémon level strength or anything. But as far as magic goes with Harmonias he's the first to have really mastered it in a long ass time.

Ghetsis’s abilities are pretty immense, but it can also be very, very straining depending on what he does. Again, it's connected to his life energy--if he overdoes it too much in one go, he'll get sick, bleed from orifices he shouldn't be bleeding from, collapse, suffer injury, outright pass out, or even die. Even if he draws on someone or something else for power, he needs to use his own magic to do that and to direct it.

And while he doesn't give a damn about the lives of others. . .imagine if you were pulling on a rubberband that was around something pretty solid. You keep pulling and, whether it breaks or comes loose, it's gonna come hurtling at you at mach fuckin 10 and hurt your hand, if not hit you in the face and take out your eye. Now imagine doing that with a life. Chances are, getting smacked in the face with another life will remove your face and you'd die--same thing would probably happen to Ghetsis if he were to just draw and draw from a source until it was gone. Gradually would likely be less damaging, but magical overload is a thing, too--he can't just infinitely store magic in himself, he can’t just channel magic through himself infinitely without a break, he doesn't have the room for it even though he has such a large and overbearing presence. So he has to be careful with magic.

(I kinda made a messy drabbly thing featuring Ghetsis and @sacriflare a while back in which Ghetsis protects Lys from Yveltal so he can put it in a Master Ball, even though Lys didn't believe this possible at all. After doing so, Ghetsis collapsed though he was still conscious, just in pain and real fucked up and probably drooling blood or something awful. So with enough effort and energy to pull from, he can do lots of things, but on his own he'll tire faster--theoretically holding off the god of death from sucking the life out of him and his friend? Uuuuuuuuuh he was lucky to be alive when he was done. and that Yveltal is a flying type because that ice typing probably saved his ass.)

(In addition to those he also knows more 'witchy' things, like sigils and using crystals and stones and stuff like that. This pulls less from his life energy and more from nature in a weird sort of magical-alchemical way I guess.)

Many things Ghetsis does can be done without flourish--he channels magic through his cane because, well, if it backfired from his hand he'd lose another hand. He'd rather break the cane. That's replaceable. He can use his hands or his voice or his mind but that's more painful and strenuous--and, again, if something goes wrong that’s not gonna be good for his physical body. However, he can also make magic circles on the ground--in fact, he does this in the anime to push fire into the Light Stone to revive Reshiram.

Allow me to reiterate that.

This man revived a sleeping legendary Pokémon, on his own, with his own magic. In a canon material. And all he needed was the legendary's sleeping form, some torches, and a big enough space to make his magic circle in--a magic circle he made with magic, not a physical means.

That! He did THAT!!! (The glowing red obedience brainwashing is from the Colress Machine. But tbh bringing the legendary out of the rock is a bit more impressive to me. Anybody can command Pokémon. Most people don’t do /gestures) that.)

(credit where credit is due, tho, colress, you are p gr8.)

So you can probably see why I figured 'okay. He's pretty magically capable. I can OP him if i do it right.'

I'll run down some other canon i drew from.

In the games the Abyssal Ruins tells tales of the king buried within, The Great King Harmonia who ruled and protected Unova 3000 years ago.

Ghetsis's passive ability, aside from other canon instances, is inspired by:

Listen to King's words.

Here we praise King.

King's light shines.

King moves his people

Active abilities are also inspired by some of the contente here, such as:

King's light shines. and Shine if agreed. - Ghetsis can control fire to a certain degree, as well as just generally create light and visual imagery.

Eating is receiving life. - Ghetsis can draw life energy out of others, though this isn't something he really knows how to do at the moment unless he severely injures or exhausts his target--i.e. causes them to already be draining of life or not ‘holding onto’ their life. He doesn't use this much however and this power is more ritual than inherit(if he were to do it there's probably be a magic circle involved or something more elaborate than just magic use.)

Saved all from waves. - the Great King Harmonia saved Unova from a horrific tsunami. Probably caused by a clumsy lugia. Similarly, water is something he can control, though he probably wouldn't be able to stop a whole tsunami by himself. Maybe a storm.

Act strong if agreed. - buffing and debuffing, some healing, but for the most part his healing is best in the form of like. Ritual necromancy at best.

In the anime(and I’d include pics for this but I don’t remember which episode it was and I have a lot of frames i’d have to go through to find out):

Anthea and Concordia can slip between planes of existence and live hidden away there with N. This usually manifests as a fog, and entering it takes you off the plane you're on and into another one, seemingly in some sort of forest, though there's a swamp inside too that we've seen, and a whole building, so there's probably way more to the area. There's an invisible source to it from the outside world, which Ghetsis had Team Plasma locate and break through, as the idk source shield thing keeps what's outside out but can be broken through to enter. When you're forced out of the plane and back into the previous one, your surroundings will be completely different, so it's not exactly somewhere that fully corresponds to the material plane.

I’ve decided that Ghetsis can also do this--this plane of existence(i also call it 'slip space') is where Ghetsis is at present day, and he has his own little cabin house hideaway in there where he's recovering and plotting and resting.

What's supposed to happen is that the fog disappears and closes up the entrance. However, Ghetsis opened the space in a bad physical and mental condition. As a result the magic is a bit. . .wonky. it's not usually properly closed up at all, and so if the fog is discovered and walked into, you'll wind up in the woods Ghetsis is hiding in. However, the fog's current existing criteria is something like 'place with a lot of trees and low external visibility' or something like that. So sometimes it isn't even in Unova and you can reach it from somewhere else entirely--and, subsequently, Ghetsis can leave it and wind up somewhere else entirely too. It's mostly connected to him, so it only moves if he's still inside--it'll stay where it is if he leaves, so he can go back to it, unless he closes or deactivates it entirely.

Like I said earlier, in the anime Ghetsis performs the Ceremony of Revival--which, the first(?) time he uses it during N's coronation, causes Reshiram to come and burn down his castle and kill a bunch of people and really piss Ghetsis off because what more do you want reshiram????? The second time he uses it(i assume it's the same thing) he has his grunts set up a circle of torches on some altar somewhere, his cane glows, he makes a massive glowing red magic circle on the ground, he lifts the light stone in the air, and all the fucking fire just goes up to the light stone and into it, eventually giving enough strength to Reshiram for it to come back to life/wake up, and it woke up pissed. He knew it would be angry though. Idk what that says about this process but it says something.

. . .anyway, Ghetsis can do a lot of things with his magic because he has most of King Harmonia’s powers, albeit watered down. But some things are too much for his mortal human body to handle. . .ever. not even just in his current condition but period. So nothing too intensive. . .and for the most part, not a ton of simply benevolent things like healing. But intensity is kinda dependent on how he goes about it.

(On the topics of passive and active skills, N's passive is obvs his ability to communicate with and understand Pokémon. Does he have others? Maybe! Thats for N-muns to decide. Ghetsis will try and teach him to use anything he finds out that he has, tbh--and see how he can use it for the future haha.) ))

#long post #long ass post #holy shit this is a long post #Asks | The Truth Won’t Save You Now #Worldbuilding | Show Me Where Can Do How Can Do It Who Can Do This With You #Magic | I Don’t Need To Try To Control You Look Into My Eyes And I’ll Own You #Headcanon | The Horror That He Brings The Horror Of His Sting The Unholiest Of Kings #History | Who’d Ever Dream A Child As Sweet As I Seemed Would Be The Source Of So Much Pain And Strife #((thank you very much for the ask❣))

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mystery-moose · 7 years ago

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BIG OL’ WIP LIST

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on.

I got tagged by @philosoverted, who has been wonderfully supportive of all her friends’ writing even when it’s for fandoms she isn’t even a part of. Because she’s fantastic.

I’m going to be kind of vague with some of these, though, because I like to preserve some semblance of surprise for anyone who happens to be following me for writing!

I’d put them behind a cut but apparently tumblr hates readmores right now? So instead I’ll just apologize for this long post that’s about to break your dash please i’m sorry it’s not my fault tumblr sucks eggs

AMatMMP

This is the direct sequel to Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V. It is very long, not the longest thing I’ve ever written (yet) but certainly the longest thing I’ll have finished when it’s finally done. It’s also very complicated, because I like mysteries and plots and hate myself. I especially hate what I’ve done by setting it so close after the first one because it means I can’t write anything else with these characters until I’ve finished this.

But I swear to you and God and whoever is listening: this summer it’s happening.

Shelter

Think of everything I’ve ever written. Thematically and emotionally. Now, multiply it by a thousand and make it even more self-indulgent. You should have some idea of what Shelter is. It’s not plot-heavy (thank christ) and it doesn’t have any action or adventure. But it is everything I’ve connected with over the past year and a half, made into a single super-specific-to-me thing that stretches into a hazy future that I might never actually finish. But the fun thing is I don’t have to finish it, necessarily; I just want to write enough to get to the One Big Moment, the thing I’ve been thinking about since, oh, a year ago. That’ll act as enough of a catharsis that I can feel good about posting it, if I never end up finishing the rest.

Basically this is the epitome of me being Back On My Bullshit. I adore it. Someday soon, I hope to start posting it. Probably after AMatMMP, though.

Money and Fame (working title)

A few months ago I came up with a little adventure for Taako and Kravitz to go on. I really liked it at the time, but I waffled on writing it because I felt like... well, it involves Sazed, and I thought I might be being too charitable to him? But I haven’t been able to get a couple scenes of it out of my head, so it’s almost certainly getting written at some point. But it’ll likely be a much shorter, more focused thing than my usual plot-heavy junk. No flashbacks in this one, I don’t think!

The Lucretia Longfic (title TBD)

I got a bee in my bonnet last summer (thanks to @epersonae and her posse) and wrote, like, twenty thousand words of a Lucretia thing. I’ve since realized that it is Bad, and needs so, so much more time than I was giving it. It’ll happen at some point, I’m sure -- I like Lucretia too much to never finish it -- but it’s... she’s probably the best character with the strongest arc in the entirety of TAZ, and she deserves the best I’ve got, and my best so rarely feels like enough for her.

Candlenights

This is set after AMatMMP, so it’s getting finished after AMatMMP. It’s a meet-the-fam fic, with almost zero conflict whatsoever, but I’ve since realized it needs a different third act and I haven’t figured out how to end the damn thing. I’ve got a few thousand words for it already, but as soothing as I find writing it, this might not get finished for a while.

Fighting Words

This was gonna be a simple little series of one-shots for each of the THB (and maybe the IPRE) just gettin’ into some scraps. It’s still going to be that thing, but it’s just been set aside for a long time in favor of, uh, every other project I’ve got going. I’ll get back to it when I feel like posting something in short order, I’m sure.

The Great Taako-Burnsides Fight (title TBD)

I wrote a whole outline for a thing where Taako gets into a fight with Magnus about Lucretia, and then Magnus literally throws him out of his house and Taako feels really bad about it for like a week and Magnus fumes for a bit and then there’s a big ol’ forced sit-down with Lucretia and it’s yet another vision of mine for how Taako and Lucretia could ever, like, be okay again. It’s like the third version of this idea that I’ve plotted out (the Lucretia Longfic and Bygones being the other two) because apparently I’m just really into semi-forgiveness, as a concept. The funny thing? I’ve kind of settled on one that’s my personal “canon” for how it happens, and the other two are just AUs. I don’t normally do that! Normally when I establish a personal “canon” that’s all I write. TAZ has been really weird for me, in a lot of ways.

Anyway, it might get written at some point? It’s not super long, in the outline I’ve got. But there’s so many other things above it at this point, I think it’ll only happen soon if I get a real hankerin’ for it.

Cycle 95

This is a semi-follow up to Cycle 71, but it’s a different thing. The gang ends up on a planet where the Light is being held by a farming town terrorized by raiders, and have been bullied by them for generations. They have to help them fight the bandits to get the Light. (Taako is frustrated and suggests just taking it by force, but the townsfolk make it clear they would die fighting.) They end up training the townsfolk over the course of a year, defeat the bandits, and save the town. Their victory is an inspiration to surrounding communities, who create their own bands of protectors clad in red, and long after the IPRE has left, their legacy remains in the peace they create.

So this is straight up some Seven Samurai bullshit, because why not? The twist is that the town elder is something of a prophet, and as the IPRE train the townsfolk, he has a solitary moment with each of the seven in which he gives them advice that foreshadows what they’ll go through on Abeir-Toril. It’s not a lot, certainly nothing that changes how anything goes down, but I enjoy the cutesy foreshadowing and reassurance of who each character has developed into. (The only person who doesn’t get one is Taako. He avoids the elder like the plague. He gets his own moment, to himself.)

I will almost assuredly write this someday. Probably soon. It’s just so much fun to me. And it won’t be that long, either! Comparable to Cycle 71, I’d imagine. As with anything in the Stolen Century, I’d want to keep it short. There’s just too much room to lose yourself in that arc, any single year could be a hundred thousand words, and I just refuse to fall into that hole.

AMatItCJ (working title)

This is the “Angus at Neverwinter University solves a mystery with the help of his college buddies/Persona-style Investigation Team” and it is VERY loosely plotted but will almost certainly be VERY long and TOO complicated and I REFUSE to write it, do you hear me, I REFUSE.

(I’ve got character outlines and a basic plot and a few flashbacks and a final parlor scene and that’s basically it. I’ve actually thought about collaborating with someone on it, but I’m afraid I’d be too much of a control freak about it. This one might never happen.)

TaakoQuest (title TBD)

Kravitz is taken by a demonic entity anathema to the Raven Queen and is trapped inside a plane where no celestial entity or emissary can venture, purely to taunt her. Lup and Barry are helpless. Every other member of the IPRE and the founding Bureau is long dead. The Raven Queen asks Taako to do it. So he does.

This one literally came to me in the car ride home tonight, when I was thinking about Luster and how much I enjoyed the Taako-as-scientist scenes in that fic. I might write down some bits and pieces for it right now. It won’t be long. Maybe won’t even be multi-chapter. It’s just yet another exercise in showing Taako caring for other people through action, and in which he gets to act like a total baller.

I have very few settings, apparently.

This’ll almost certainly get written at some point, but maybe not soon. I’ve still got school stuff to do, but I like the bits I’ve thought of enough that I’ll almost certainly inflict them on you all at some point. But don’t worry, it won’t be nearly as emotionally harrowing as Luster. I can be cruel, but not THAT cruel.

THE ULTIMATE MOST SELF-INDULGENT GARBAGE EVER WRITTEN

I love Pyre.

I love schmoopy, slow-burn romance.

I will probably finish this someday.

I will never post it.

THAT’S IT

I’m almost certainly forgetting one or two, but I’m pretty sure that this is all I’ve got percolating in my head and WIP folder right now.

I’m sorry it’s so long, and I’m extra sorry I’m so bad at writing things regularly.

But I’m not sorry I don’t post things until they’re finished. I learn from my mistakes. I will never leave my readers hanging again!!

oh i guess i have to tag some people huh

uhhhhhhh @orchidcactus @fistfulofgammarays @anonymousalchemist @marywhal aaaaaaaand @emi--rose

TELL ME YOUR SECRETSSSS

#writing #fic #the adventure zone #taako #angus mcdonald #my wips #i have too many #far far too many #but i do intend to finish most of them!!#still!!#somehow...#christ almighty it'll be like a year out from the finale when i finally post some of these #i hope people still give a shit about taz in the future

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goddamnitlady · 6 years ago

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Notes to self: past, change, and most probable route of future development. [JiraOro thread]

Orochimaru is now going through a shift in thinking in the JiraOro roleplay story. I need to type it out for me to understand it. No need to read it.

No but seriously, Nikki, I'll put it under a readmore and let you choose whether to read it or not. I mostly fear that you'll sit back and think "okay so this is probably the best guess on how it will end" and then we will neveeeer write the two agaaaiiin. ;A;

Fears aside... If you read it, do leave a comment for my effort, as I started writing this halfway the football match and finish it only now. I think myself clever for having been able to put it into words.

The situation at the start of this OroJira story Orochimaru is convinced he does not have any goodness left in him any more. He thinks he has lost everyone and everything. He's like Sasuke. He’s in darkness. So deep, that he is beyond saving. He aims with is bad actions ("someone has to do the dirty work") to give children better lives in a better world than had been offered to him. ”Results justify the means,” he said. This 'calling', to make a better peaceful world for the next generation, is in his mind the only good aspect about him. Fulfilling role of 'fixer' is how he can live with himself. Take these good intentions away, and their absence will expose he's just monster. That he’s the same type of monster as the villains who hurt him as a child. So he clings to this role. “I’m different. I’m doing these horrible things for the greater good.” He fills himself with self-deception, because deep down he knows he is wrong.

Telling him he's awful, and why he’s awful, make Orochimaru go either... 1) smirking arrogant because it means he's successfully changing the world. 2) trying to convince you he IS doing the right thing. This is akin to "LALALA I CANT HEAR YOU. I HAVE MY HANDS OVER MY EARS. I'M A GOOD PERSON LA LA LA." Orochimaru is so lost, that he can't be reached.

A big danger: at once acknowledging the immense scope and amount of wrong he did in his life, will utterly destroy his heart. It will destroy his sanity. So he doesn't acknowledge it. He only acknowledges the surface -- that he has no chance at redemption.

No redemption? He's doubting that now. This doubt is sparked by the training process. The training shows that no matter how bad Orochimaru is, Jiraiya will always call him out on it, and tell him to be behave. He appeals to an inherent good nature in Orochimaru's. He has a firm believe in that inherent goodness.

That's so novel.

Like... “What does Jiraiya see in me? Is he right?? I want him to be right!!!!! Sure, there are punishments. But those can be suffered through. And they pass. And then there's the orgasm reward... :))) .”

He loves the rewards. He loves feeling good. He loves being loved. He loves being called 'Good boy'. He likes 'Good', because it makes him feel forgiven, and 'boy', because youth was before his sins. His eternal obsession with youth, eh?

This training gives him a break from his exhausting sin-denying. This training proves that not all that he touches crumbles/rots/dies, but that he can make a person happy. He enjoys serving for the sake of giving away attention and love and spoiling Jiraiya. This shared happiness gives him hope. Hope, that they can connect because somewhere deep down there IS good in him.

This brings me to how powerfully Orochimaru loves Jiraiya. Jira (bitterly?) believes there is hope for Orochimaru. That belief makes every piece of Orochimaru’s world-making wobble. Orochimaru’s previously rock-hard convictions become unsteady. Jiraiya is the one he trusts most in his life, more than even Kabuto. He now trusts Jiraiya more than he trusts himself. Jiraiya is often right. Orochimaru now distrusts his own decision-making. He now distrusts his own mind. But he relies on his friend. “If Jiraiya thinks there’s hope, it must be true, right?”

He likes to think it could be true.

Nikki, remember that meme? That silly meme where I had to fill in stars for Orochimaru’s romantic/platonic/sexual feelings to a muse... and when you messaged me Jiraiya's name, all the options were maxed out to ten stars? xD

He LOVES Jiraiya.

He loves how good Jiraiya can make him feel, both physically and spiritually. He enjoys the safety, friendship, banter, homeliness, attraction, powerlessness, humour, being useful, because Jiraiya doesn’t back down he feels like he’s found back his equal. His other half. He feels loved.

At the start of the story Orochimaru intended to make Jiraiya part of his dark world by trying to convince Jiraiya that the “end justifies the means”. That attempt failed SPECTACULARLY.

To keep Jiraiya from leaving him, Orochimaru set out try to change himself to become part of Jiraiya's world. First stop was his (mutually agreed upon) physical submission. Orochimaru is changing his behaviour. But Jiraiya won’t stay if it’s just sex, because it cannot be “just sex” between them. There’s too much history.

Now Orochimaru has begun mentally submitting, too. Not being allowed to speak and not being able to think because he feels so good, has been a powerful agent of mental change. This is where the big shift is happening now that I need to get down in text. Orochimaru begun to acknowledge (in those muse&mun converstions) that he cannot bear to keep Jiraiya around if Jiraiya isn't happy. Nikki, this feeling is escalating to a degree I had never dared to predict. Jiraiya's happiness is now the most important thing to him in the entire world. It’s vital. Sex might feel nice but it doesn’t heal an aching heart. Keeping Jiraiya captive by force (as was the very first plan) is out of the question. Awful! How could he have ever thought up such a horrible scheme! Orochimaru has already begun to rely on Jiraiya’s judgement more than his own. The way to keep Jira... and to make him happy... is to become good. It’s the only way. He now knows this. He’s preparing for this.

Orochimaru MUST change.

The Talk: gaining insight in the consequences of his past actions. This talk will happen at SOME point, probably. In this talk he needs to learn what damage he has done so he know what to NEVER do again.

He first has to acknowledge he has hurt Jiraiya immensely.

He must listen to his thoughts.

Acknowledge his pain respectfully.

Learn what harm he did to Jiraiya.

And only when Orochimaru understands the full scope of his actions, he can try to give Jiraiya some peace and tranquillity.

This talk is not for him. This talk will be for Jiraiya. (Because I’m super duper interested in your Jiraiya’s coping mechanisms and his pain and his making-sense-of-the-world). (And because I love hurt/comfort. Let my muse give comfort. It will be a ‘fix the canon’ thread!) (No one can dish out pain like you do so I dread this thread too. Never anger a calm man, is a saying. A tumblr roleplay saying should be, Never ask angst from the Fluff/Smut Queen.)(But I’m dumb).

He loves Jiraiya. He doesn’t want him to hurt. Doesn’t want him to hurt in Orochimaru’s presence or absence or anytime at all. Jiraiya’s happiness is more important than his own.

Hearing about Jiraiya’s pain is going to hurt him as fuck, but it will be a manageable size. It is 'merely' the severe damage he has done to his most important friend. This talk in my replies won't be about Orochimaru's hurt, not about Orochimaru’s traumas, and won't be about the unphantomable damage Orochimaru did to the entire world (which would destroy him). This talk will be bite-sized (but he’ll still almost choke on it) aims to give katharsis/resolution.

Failing this talk, means that he's going to need to let Jiraiya (or the loved one) go. Their happiness is more important than his own. (I've encountered this version of events with Sasukes and Anko and an OC.)

Succeeding this talk, meaning if he can give Jiraiya some form of solace. This interaction will fulfil the same function as Orochimaru (in canon) giving Sasuke solace by summoning the Hokages. This person whom he loves and is the first one he can connect to, will become his moral compass. He will become devoted to them. He won't ask for forgiveness. He will only ask if they're happier now.

Let's suppose they touched hearts, then how will that change him? Lovingly supporting this one person he hurt before, by now doing good, so the Precious One is happy, gives off a feeling of success. Actual /warmth/ in his chest, no self-deception. This spark of warmth will catch onto his rotten heart and become a tiny flame of light in his chest. This successful attempt will give him back his faith in his ability to do good for the sake of goodness (instead of evil for the sake of goodness).

He will want repeat his successful experience by helping more people reach happiness the right way. With this special person by his side (Jiraiya/Sasuke), Orochimaru can now actively try to acknowledge bigger and bigger chunks of his past misdeeds. And bravely begin working to correct them.

Suddenly he is already halfway on the path back to the light.

If Orochimaru has loved one to walk beside him on that path... (a person who Orochimaru can give his brand of intense spiritual and physical love, a person who shuts down villainous behaviour as soon as he suggests it, and for whom Orochimaru can be a caring support ideal housewife) ... then Orochimaru too may just finish the path all the way out of the Darkness and back to the Light.

The Enemy of the World, now turned gentle.

That would be nice... I think.

......

Thoughts?

#Weird stay-at-home cave grandparent...#rp

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