#i have concerns about the design. all of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

h4nj1sunggg · 2 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 - ( h. jisung. )

pairing: han jisung x criminalfem!reader. [ mention of other characters and the rest of the skz members ]

genre: fluff, angst, strangers to ?

words: 3.9k

summary: In a world where a mysterious illness has turned animals into aggressive, uncontrollable creatures, the global elite plans a ruthless solution: the complete eradication of all wildlife with a lethal gas. You think it’s all wrong and want to save them by infiltrating a gathering of politicians to gather all the information - not realising how dangerous is.

triggers: sensitive theme of killing animals, be aware of that. y/n has heterochromia (green-blue eyes), she's strongly an animal lover. hanji is not an idol but he's famous in a sort of way?, y/n feels like 'the one'

ᯓᡣ𐭩　 ( masterlist ) .

author note: if you see any similarities with the tv series Zoo, no you didn't!! /j I took inspiration from it. :3 work unfinished!

The room buzzed with low murmurs as Dr. Elara Fenwick stepped to the podium, her stern expression silencing the chatter. The faint hum of machinery in the sleek conference hall underscored the weight of what was about to be said. She adjusted her glasses and began, her voice measured but heavy with concern.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what we are witnessing is unprecedented in the natural world—a cascade of symptoms and behaviors that defy previous understandings of biology and virology. We are calling it the 'Thanatos Syndrome'.

It began as isolated cases: a pack of wolves in the northern wilderness turning on one another. A pod of dolphins attacking boats unprovoked. At first, it seemed random—outliers in a chaotic system. But the data now paint a far darker picture. This is not regional. This is not species-specific. This is a global phenomenon.”

She clicked a button on her remote, and the projection screen behind her flickered to life. A rotating 3D image of a virus appeared, its spiky surface glowing ominously.

“The pathogen, classified as ZV-129, is a biogenetic anomaly unlike anything we’ve encountered. It does more than infect—it rewrites, mutate the animals. Our analysis shows that the virus is capable of triggering latent ghost genes within the DNA of infected organisms. These genes, long dormant and largely unstudied, appear to be evolutionary relics—programming designed to amplify aggression and survival instincts. But that’s not all,” she continued, clicking to the next slide.

It displayed a strand of DNA with three interwoven segments highlighted. “We’ve also identified triple-helix DNA structures emerging in infected subjects. This alteration strengthens physical resilience, enhances sensory acuity, and increases aggression to indomitable levels. However, it also destabilizes cellular functions, leading to eventual breakdown and death.”

The image changed again, this time showing a glowing pair of eyes—predatory and unblinking.

“And then there is what we’ve dubbed the indomitable pupil phenomenon. Infected animals’ eyes show an unusual luminosity under infrared light, and they exhibit a psychological shift that makes them immune to fear or pain. These creatures are operating at peak physical and psychological efficiency, but only for a limited time before their bodies burn out. Yet, during that window, they are near unstoppable.”

The room was silent, save for the occasional uneasy shuffling. Dr. Fenwick’s voice grew sharper.

“This is not a localized crisis. It is a rewriting of nature’s rules. ZV-129 is turning the animal kingdom into a battlefield—and humanity is on the front lines. A single infected predator can devastate entire ecosystems. Even herbivores have displayed aggressive behavior, attacking humans and other species indiscriminately.”

She paused, her gaze steely as she surveyed the room.

“Some among us propose eradication—a preemptive strike to exterminate entire species before the virus spreads further. Others, myself included, believe there is another way. If we can isolate the ghost gene triggers, dismantle the triple DNA sequence, and understand the mechanisms behind the indomitable pupil phenomenon, we may find a way to reverse the damage.”

Her voice softened, tinged with desperation.

“The clock is ticking. What we decide here, today, will shape the future of life on Earth. Let us not be remembered as the generation that surrendered to fear and sacrificed the natural world. Let us be the generation that fought for coexistence.”

"We gotta kill 'em all." A whisper, a light voice from the very back of the room where the general Marx Oz is standing, next to the president.

The first time that you went out in the woods that is behind your house you were 10 years old, a wolf surprised you in a very unique way - he wasn't afraid of you like the others.

You stood frozen, your breath misting in the cool evening air as the wolf emerged from the shadows of the trees. His fur was a silvery gray, almost shimmering under the faint light filtering through the canopy above. His golden eyes locked onto yours, unblinking, calculating.

Unlike the deer that bolted at the slightest crack of a twig or the foxes that slinked away before you could catch more than a glimpse of their tails, this wolf held his ground. He even stepped closer.

Your pulse quickened, but not with fear—at least, not entirely. There was something about the way he looked at you, as though he were trying to read you, to understand you.

“Hey there,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing. You didn’t move, afraid any sudden motion might break whatever strange connection had formed between you.

The wolf tilted his head, his ears twitching. For a moment, you could swear his gaze flicked from your left eye to your right—as if he’d noticed your mismatched colors. A soft growl rumbled from his chest, not threatening but inquisitive, like a question you couldn’t comprehend.

You crouched down slowly, keeping your movements deliberate. The wolf didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat. Instead, he took another step forward, his paws crunching softly against the leaves.

“You’re different,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

And he was. There was an intelligence in his eyes that didn’t belong to an ordinary animal. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t look away. He was mesmerizing, dangerous, and yet… calming in a way you couldn’t explain.

When he was close enough for you to hear his breathing, he stopped. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, two beings connected by an unspoken understanding. Then, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, the wolf turned and darted back into the forest, his form melting into the darkness.

You stayed there for a long moment, your heart racing. Something about that encounter felt profound, like the beginning of something you couldn’t yet name.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over in your mind. The way the wolf had looked at you—directly into your eyes, not like prey, not like a threat, but like something else entirely.

The next day, you ventured into the woods again. And the day after that. It became a ritual. You never saw the wolf again, but the woods felt alive in a way they hadn’t before. As if he were still watching, hidden just beyond the trees.

Until one evening, you heard the growl again—low and unmistakable.

This time, it wasn’t just one.

From that moment, you realised something you hadn’t before: animals were better than any human being you’d ever known. Their honesty, their instincts, the way they didn’t pretend or manipulate—they lived in harmony with a world that humans seemed determined to destroy.

The wolf’s golden eyes stayed with you long after that first encounter. You thought about how he hadn’t feared you, hadn’t attacked, but had simply seen you. It made you wonder how many animals looked at humans and only saw a threat.

That’s when your focus shifted. School had always been something you just trudged through, never finding a subject you cared enough about to dive into. But now, your purpose was clear. You threw yourself into biology, devouring textbooks and documentaries about wildlife, ecosystems, and, eventually, veterinary science.

You started spending more time with animals than people. At first, it was just volunteering at the local shelter, patching up stray dogs and comforting frightened cats. But even there, among creatures who’d been hurt and abandoned, you found a kind of trust and loyalty you’d rarely experienced with people.

As the years passed, you grew more skilled and more determined. You knew that being a veterinarian wasn’t just about treating injured pets; it was about being an advocate for the voiceless, for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

Still, the wolf haunted your thoughts. He’d become a symbol for you—a reminder of the natural world’s quiet resilience and its fragility in the face of human arrogance.

You wondered if he’d survived the outbreak of Thanatos Syndrome that the news had started whispering about. The sickness was spreading faster now, infecting wildlife and creeping closer to human settlements. Every time you saw another story about attacks or mass cullings, your heart sank. You couldn’t shake the image of the wolf, or the way he’d looked at you that day.

“You’re different,” you’d said to him. But maybe you were different too.

The moment the idea struck you, it was as if your entire life had been leading up to it. If no one else was going to protect these creatures, then you would. It wasn’t just about being a vet anymore. It was about fighting for the balance of a world teetering on the edge of collapse.

And if that meant stepping into danger to save animals from both the sickness and the people who wanted to destroy them, then so be it.

The first time you read about Thanatos Syndrome, the name alone sent a chill down your spine. Thanatos—the Greek god of death. Fitting, considering what the sickness had already done to the animal kingdom.

It started with a curiosity, a desperate need to understand. The reports you’d seen on the news were sensationalized: “Animals Gone Mad!” “Killer Wildlife Spreads Chaos!” But behind the panic and headlines, you sensed there was more—something deeper and more complex.

Your initial research began in veterinary school, pouring over pathology journals and viral studies in your rare moments of free time. As your peers studied routine cases like canine distemper or equine colic, you delved into obscure virology papers, tracing the threads of how the illness had first emerged.

Thanatos Syndrome wasn’t just a sickness—it was an unraveling, a real mutation.

Through access to online databases and connections you’d built with a few forward-thinking professors, you pieced together the puzzle piece by piece. The virus targeted neurological pathways with surgical precision, amplifying aggression while suppressing fear and pain responses. This wasn’t accidental—it was engineered by nature in a way that suggested a purpose.

Animals realised that they are not a prey to the human being anymore, but they are the predators. From the ants to the lions.

The most haunting discovery was what you and others called the indomitable pupil phenomenon. Infected animals exhibited a strange luminescence in their eyes under specific wavelengths of light. You hypothesized that this wasn’t just a symptom—it was the visual representation of neural overdrive. The infected weren’t just fighting—they were operating on a level beyond survival, driven by a primal, unrelenting force.

You submitted papers and proposals to your professors, some of whom were fascinated by your findings. Others dismissed your theories as alarmist, insisting that Thanatos Syndrome was simply a mutation of existing viruses. But you knew better. The data didn’t lie.

The true horror came when you began to see patterns in your own fieldwork. Animals you treated—strays, rescues, even beloved pets—started exhibiting subtle signs. A stray dog’s sudden aggression toward the people of the shelter, trying to attack them. A bird crashing into its cage repeatedly, seemingly unable to stop itself. The syndrome was creeping into urban environments, unnoticed by most but glaringly obvious to you.

Your frustration grew as the political response to the outbreak became more extreme. Governments proposed mass cullings of wildlife, ignoring the ecological disasters this would inevitably cause. They weren’t interested in understanding the virus—only in eradicating it.

You refused to accept that as the only solution.

You began studying alternative approaches, branching into genetic editing and virology. What if the ghost genes could be suppressed instead of activated? What if the viral pathways could be blocked? Every answer raised more questions, and every question deepened your determination.

Your work consumed you. Days turned into weeks, then months. You pushed your body to its limits, fueled by caffeine and a stubborn refusal to give up. Every discovery was a step closer to a solution, but also a reminder of how far you still had to go.

The world outside grew darker with each passing day. News of attacks, mass extinctions, and government crackdowns filled the airwaves. Yet, amidst the chaos, you clung to hope—a fragile, unyielding belief that there was still a way to save the animals.

And maybe, just maybe, save yourself too.

Despite all your research, all the sleepless nights spent dissecting the intricacies of Thanatos Syndrome, you were beginning to understand a brutal truth: science alone wasn’t enough. You’d submitted findings, proposals, even appeals to anyone who would listen—government officials, environmental agencies, global health organizations.

But the political machine didn’t care about data. They cared about control.

The reports were becoming harder to stomach: mass cullings, entire species wiped out in an effort to “contain” the virus. It wasn’t containment—it was genocide. And no amount of logic or scientific evidence seemed capable of swaying the powerful.

That’s when you met them: Abram, Angel, Marx, and Mitch.

It was Mitch who brought you into the fold. Another vet, he’d crossed paths with you at a conference months earlier. He’d been impressed by your passion and your willingness to push beyond the boundaries of traditional medicine.

“I heard what you said about Thanatos Syndrome,” he’d told you after one particularly heated panel discussion. “I’ve got some people you should meet.”

The group wasn’t what you’d expected. They called themselves the Gaian Vanguard, a small but determined collective of scientists, activists, and disillusioned ex-government workers who believed in fighting for the planet, even if it meant breaking the law.

Abram, the youngest, was a brilliant hacker with a knack for surveillance and information gathering. At just 24, he could slip into secure government servers like a ghost, pulling classified data that no one else could touch.

Angel, 25, was their strategist and the voice of reason. She’d once been a journalist, but after uncovering too much about the political cover-ups surrounding Thanatos Syndrome, she’d been blacklisted. Now, she used her investigative skills to expose the truth and rally support for their cause.

Marx, at 30, was the muscle. A former park ranger, he’d seen firsthand the devastation the virus had caused in the wild. He was rugged, resourceful, and fiercely protective of the team, though his gruff demeanor often clashed with the others’ idealism.

And Mitch, 29, was the team’s resident medic and fellow veterinarian. He’d seen enough suffering to last a lifetime and was determined to do more than patch up the wounded. He wanted to stop the bleeding at its source.

The first meeting was tense. You weren’t sure you belonged with them. Sure, you wanted to save the animals, to stop the senseless slaughter, but rebellion? Breaking laws? That wasn’t you.

“Look,” Abram had said, leaning back in his chair with an easy confidence that belied his age. “You can keep sending reports to the people in power. Maybe one of them will read it before they sign off on the next mass culling. Or you can join us and actually do something.”

“He’s right,” Angel added, her sharp gaze piercing. “They don’t care about evidence, Y/n. They care about control. But we’ve got the truth on our side, and people are starting to listen.”

Marx, arms crossed, had just grunted. “We could use someone with your brain..”

Mitch had sigh deeply, his expression equal parts encouragement and challenge. “I can't examined every single animal that these creeps brings here to find a cure, so I need some backups. We’re not asking you to pick up a weapon. We’re asking you to use what you know—to fight for them in a way that actually matters.”

It wasn’t an easy decision. You’d spent so long believing that science was the answer, that knowledge and understanding could solve anything. But the wolf’s golden eyes flashed in your memory, and you thought about all the creatures who didn’t have the luxury of time.

“I’m in,” you’d said finally, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside you. “What’s the plan?”

Over the following weeks, you found your place within the team. Mitch became your closest ally, the two of you often working side by side on medical missions to treat infected animals or save those targeted by the government’s extermination squads. Abram taught you how to navigate encrypted systems, while Angel showed you how to craft narratives that could sway public opinion. Even Marx warmed to you eventually, though his approval came in the form of gruff nods and the occasional sarcastic remark.

The night of the event was suffocating—too many bodies packed into an opulent ballroom, too many self-satisfied grins from the people responsible for the mass slaughter of innocent creatures. The chandeliers overhead bathed the room in golden light, the clinking of champagne glasses and murmured conversation masking the rot beneath their polished exteriors.

You adjusted the sleek black dress Angel had insisted you wear, a necessary disguise to blend in with the elite. The fabric felt suffocating against your skin, but it was better than the alternative—arriving as you truly were, a threat to everything these people stood for.

Abram’s voice crackled in your earpiece. “We’re in position. You two ready?”

Across the room, Mitch, dressed in a sharp suit that didn’t quite hide the tension in his jaw, gave you a small nod. He was your partner for the night, both of you tasked with gathering intel from the inner circle while Angel and Marx handled… the more direct approach.

You forced a smile as a politician—Senator Clarke, one of the biggest advocates for mass animal extermination—approached, his eyes scanning you with barely concealed curiosity.

“You’re a new face,” he said, voice slick with false charm. “Who do you belong to?”

Your stomach churned, but you played the part. “is doctor, y/n,” you said smoothly, gesturing toward Mitch, who gave a tight-lipped smile. “Veterinarians working with government agencies to ensure ethical handling of the infected.”

The senator chuckled. “Ethical? There’s nothing ethical about this crisis, sweetheart. The only way to control it is to wipe out the threat entirely.”

Your fingers curled into fists, nails digging into your palm to keep your anger in check. Not yet. Stick to the plan.

Mitch placed a hand on your back, a subtle warning to stay calm. “That’s why we’re here, sir,” he said, ever the diplomat. “To discuss alternative solutions before drastic measures become the only option.”

Clarke seemed unimpressed, but before he could respond, the lights flickered. A hush spread through the ballroom.

Then the screams started.

Showtime.

Marx had breached the security room, cutting power to all but the emergency floodlights. Angel was already moving, a masked figure in the chaos, detonating small but effective smoke charges throughout the venue. The air filled with confusion and fear, high heels clacking against marble as guests scrambled for the exits.

You grabbed Clarke by the wrist, twisting it back with enough force to make him stumble. “You know what’s really unethical?” you hissed, dragging him toward the nearest service hallway. “Signing off on the deaths of creatures you don’t even try to understand.”

Mitch took out a guard who rushed toward you, expertly disarming him before knocking him unconscious. Abram’s voice filled your ear again. “Security’s mobilizing, you’ve got five minutes before the backup arrives.”

Clarke struggled, but Marx appeared from the shadows, a towering force of muscle and rage. “Move, or I break something,” he growled.

Angel was already in the security wing, extracting files from a government laptop. “We’ve got evidence of a classified biological project tied to Thanatos Syndrome,” she reported. “Looks like the virus isn’t just spreading naturally… they’ve been experimenting with it.”

Your blood ran cold. “They made it?”

Abram’s voice cut in. “It’s worse. They’ve been testing it on humans.”

You tightened your grip on Clarke, slamming him against the wall. “What the hell are you people doing?”

His lips curled into a smirk, despite the pain. “Trying to control nature before it controls us.”

You didn’t think—your fist connected with his jaw before he could say another word.

“Enough,” Angel’s voice cut through your fury. “We have what we need. Let’s go before we get slaughtered too.”

The team moved quickly, leaving behind a scene of wreckage and fear. The government would call it a terrorist attack. The media would spin the story. But none of that mattered—because you had the truth now.

And you were going to burn their entire operation to the ground.

The van rattled over the broken asphalt as you pressed ice against your bruised knuckles, staring out into the night. The city was alive with sirens, a chorus of emergency vehicles sweeping toward the wreckage your team had left behind. The operation had been messy, violent, and reckless—but it had worked.

“We need to lay low,” Angel muttered, voice tense as she reloaded her pistol before tucking it back into her jacket. “That was too loud.”

“We don’t lay low,” Marx grunted. “We hit harder.”

“Not tonight,” Mitch interjected. “We regroup first.”

That’s why you were heading toward the Stray Kids refuge.

Not many people knew about them. The world thought Stray Kids was just another resistance faction—one of the countless underground groups protesting against government tyranny. But those in the rebellion knew better.

They weren’t just a group. They were an ideal.

Made up of ex-military members, rogue scientists, hackers, and field operatives, Stray Kids had become the safe house for anyone fighting the political elite. And their leader? Han Jisung.

You knew of him before all of this. Everyone did. Once an idol, he had walked away from fame when the world started burning, disappearing into the underground where he and his members rebuilt themselves into something else. Something dangerous.“They’re expecting us,” Abram said, checking the messages on his modified tablet. “Felix said to use the back entrance.”

The van screeched to a stop in front of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The building was covered in graffiti, a mess of warnings, art, and messages of defiance. But one symbol stood out—a wolf painted in red, its eyes burning like fire.

Mitch glanced at you. “You good?”

You took a breath. You weren’t sure. The idea of meeting them—the idea that Jisung and his group might actually be able to help—felt unreal.

But you nodded. “Let’s go.”

Angel knocked twice on the rusted metal door before stepping back. Silence followed, then the sound of locks shifting. The door creaked open, and a figure stepped out—a sharp-eyed man with a scar running down his cheek. Bang Chan.

“Come inside,” he said simply, scanning each of you before stepping aside.

The warehouse was a carefully constructed safe house. Weapons were stacked in crates along the walls, computers and surveillance monitors flickering with incoming intelligence reports. People moved through the space like ghosts, their voices hushed but urgent.

Then, amidst the chaos, you saw him.

Jisung.

He was leaning against a desk, dressed in all black, his hair slightly tousled as he scanned through a set of blueprints. When he looked up and locked eyes with you, something unspoken passed between you.

Recognition?

Or just curiosity?

“You made a hell of a mess tonight,” Jisung finally said, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “I like it.”

Marx crossed his arms. “We got the files. We know the government is testing Thanatos Syndrome on humans.”

Jisung’s expression darkened, any trace of amusement vanishing. “Then you’re officially in deeper shit than before.”

“We need your help,” you said, stepping forward. “The politicians want to wipe out the infected, and now we know why. They’re covering their own tracks.”

Silence stretched between you. Then, Jisung sighed, rubbing a hand down his face before glancing at his members.

“What do you think, guys?” he asked.

Felix grinned. “I say we make some noise.”

Chan smirked. “I say we burn them down.”

Jisung looked back at you, and this time, his gaze was steady, unwavering.“Welcome to Stray Kids.”

It didn’t take long for Stray Kids to get to work.

Chan had a wall of intel—reports, surveillance footage, smuggled documents—that mapped out the government’s extermination plans. They weren’t just targeting infected animals. They were wiping out entire populations in "preventative measures."

“Zoos, sanctuaries, national parks,” Minho said, his tone cold and sharp. “They’re hitting them all. Any infected animals are being taken for ‘research,’ and the rest… slaughtered.”

You clenched your fists, stomach twisting with rage. “And the ones they’re taking?”

Jisung tapped on a folder, sliding it across the table toward you. “We found a transport schedule. They're being sent to underground research labs—places off the grid.”

Your eyes scanned the papers. “Lab 07—south of the city.”

“Unmarked, high-security,” Hyunjin added. “No records in public databases, which means they’re doing something nasty in there.”

“This is it,” Angel murmured. “This is what we need to expose them.”

Chan nodded. “We need to infiltrate, get footage, rescue what we can.”

“We’ll need a field team,” Marx said.

“You’ll have one,” Jisung replied. His eyes flickered toward you. “y/n? you in?” You met his gaze, surprised he was asking you directly. “I’m in,” you said, voice steady.

A slow smirk curved his lips. “Good.”

The facility loomed ahead, buried deep in a valley surrounded by electrified fences and armed guards. It looked like a research center on the surface, but the underground chambers were what mattered.

Jisung, Felix, and you moved through the shadows, using the cover of darkness to approach the loading dock. Your heart pounded as you watched through night-vision goggles—two trucks were parked outside, crates filled with something alive inside.

“They’re still here,” you whispered.

Jisung nodded. “Then we move fast.”

With Abram’s remote hacking, the security systems glitched long enough for Hyunjin and Seungmin to take out the nearest guards. Once the path was clear, you and Jisung slipped through the back entrance.

The stench of chemicals and blood hit you immediately. Animal cries echoed through the halls, a mix of fear and pain. Jisung’s jaw tightened. “We have to hurry.”

You navigated through the corridors, your heart sinking at the sight of the glass enclosures. Inside, animals trembled—wolves, big cats, even birds of prey, their bodies bearing signs of experimentation. Some had glowing eyes, others twitched unnaturally.

“This isn’t just Thanatos Syndrome,” you murmured. “They’re mutating them.”

Jisung’s fingers brushed yours as he moved closer, voice low. “We’ll get them out.”

You turned to him, searching his face. “You actually care about this.”

His expression softened slightly. “Of course, I do.” Before you could say more, alarms blared.

“Time’s up,” Felix called over comms.

Jisung grabbed your hand. “Come on.”

The two of you moved fast, working in sync as you unlocked cages. The animals were weak but still able to move, some stumbling toward the exit. Felix set up small charges to cover your escape—controlled detonations to create chaos without harming anything inside.

Gunfire erupted as guards stormed in, but Marx and Chan’s team intercepted them at the entrance. Jisung pulled you behind cover, shielding you from stray bullets before returning fire. “Remind me to never underestimate you,” you said breathlessly.

He grinned. “Smart girl.” With the team working together, you managed to clear a path. The moment the last crate was loaded onto the getaway truck, Jisung turned to you. “Let’s go.” As the explosions shook the lab behind you, the two of you ran, side by side, into the night.

Back at the safe house, the rescued animals were being treated. Mitch and the others worked tirelessly, tending to their wounds, while Chan and Angel sorted through the stolen data.

Jisung found you outside, leaning against the railing of the rooftop, watching the city lights.

“Tough night,” he said, handing you a bottle of water.

You took it with a small smile. “But worth it.” He nodded. Silence stretched between you, comfortable but charged. Then, he spoke again.

“You’re different from the others.”

You turned to him. “How so?”

He shrugged. “You don’t just want to fight. You want to fix things.”

You hesitated, then admitted, “I used to think science could fix everything.”

“And now?”

“Now, I think maybe people like you can.” Jisung’s gaze locked onto yours. For a moment, the war, the rebellion, the chaos—it all faded.

Then he grinned. “Careful, y/n. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t fighting this battle alone anymore.

#han jisung #( skz. — 💭! )#skz #stray kids #han jisung skz #han jisung x reader #hanji #stray kids han #han jisung fluff #han jisung smut #han jisung stray kids

35 notes · View notes

weaselle · 1 day ago

Text

@lexiapalace thanks for your interest!

you like the Stone Punk concept and want more details, hunh? dope, but i gotta warn you, when i said i had 5 heavily researched universes, i meant HEAVILY researched and this is about to be quite a long read

okay let's see, my Stone Punk universe is pre-historical fiction, and is basically "what if I filled in the blanks in our knowledge of early humanity with interpretations of various mythical histories, so as to make our actual, real pre-history look like a tolkienesque fantasy?"

if anyone else has found this post and wants to keep reading I hope you find it interesting! it's going to be a lot of early human development stuff

I call it stone punk because of the way steam punk sort of goes "as long as you can do it with steam, any technology is part of the vibe, like, you can have laser guns as long as you are using steam and victorian era materials and designs"

In a similar way, i say anything is possible as long as the people were doing it with the tools and materials of the time, not only stone (which stays around) but also things like rope and twine and mud and wood and leather (which leaves much less evidence after tens of thousands of years). So like, in the same way Steam Punk does modern stuff with victorian tech, I envision Stone Punk as the same thing with stone age tech, a sort of Flinstones situation. Plus it's a nice callback to the original punk of Rock.

Anyway

Start with: early humans existed about 1 million years ago. In my opinion.

okay, so about 5 million years ago there were little humanoid beings that were like, a very developed ape, bigger brain, more bipedal, maybe using some rocks as hammers or whatever, not quite human.

By about 2 million years ago there was Homo Erectus, who had the full human layout, fully upright, brain size in a range that overlaps modern brain size ranges, basically a whole human being in a physical sense.

Now as you move from 2 million to 1 million years ago and closer, their brains increase a bit, and they start to spread all over Africa and into Eurasia. As they do, they get a little more modern and a little more diverse, and various scientists have convinced large portions of the scientific community to take what we used to consider to all be Homo Erectus, and split them into such delineations as Homo Heidelbergensis, Homo Ergaster, Peking Man, Homo Turkana, and many more.

Based on the place and time period the fossil is from, and small differences in skeletal structure, they say these are all separate species from Homo Erectus. Which sure, probably valid, but could be changed to just Early Erectus and Late Erectus at some point, who knows, it's not an easy morphology question and has a pretty small sample of specimens to compare, almost none of which are even close to complete skeletons, so it's all a bit of a grey area.

In any case, by about 1 million years ago, whatever versions of Homo Erectus existed were spreading from Africa to Europe, Russia, China, all over. And they had stone tools and control of fire, and they had brains our same size, with a developed Broca's area and Wernicke's area (which are the parts of the brain that deal with articulating ideas as spoken language). These brain areas that deal with speech are evident in Homo Erectus because brains leave, like, a sort of shape imprint on the inside of the skull.

And as far as i'm concerned, if an ancestor of modern humans has spoken language, tools, and fire?

okay so we have about a million years of human species we can look at.

by about 500k years ago, we really start to have some very human but still diverse species of humanity like Neanderthal and Denisovan, Peking Man, Solo Man (Ngandong) and so on.

These are human species, our sister species. They have brains our size, they are making tools and possibly clothes, they control fire, they are likely doing art and making music, these are people.

okay some of this is my own inference. let me explain

For example, Neanderthals evolved by 500k years ago. We have a flute that was made by Neanderthals about 60k years ago.

Personally, i go ahead and assume that if Neanderthals were making musical instruments 60k years ago they were probably making some kind of music from their very beginnings.

We don't have any physical evidence of music hundreds of thousands of years ago, but the same species of people who were making flutes 60k years ago were around 400k years ago, and i would bet everything they were probably trying to make music back then too.

Right? Same with things like clothing, you find a needle from 50k years ago you can bet somebody didn't just think up clothing that very year -- people have been trying to figure out the best way to do clothes for a long long time by the time crafted needles are common enough for some to still be around 50k years later. Like, you are probably doing some kind of cloak and other things for quite a while before you get determined enough to invent a needle in the first place, and there's no way the very first needles invented are the same ones we found.

So that's the kind of liberty i take with my setting. If somebody with spoken language, fire, and finely crafted tools was collecting different colored pigments in separate abalone shells 100k years ago, i'm wiling to say that same species of human was probably trying to do art the whole time they've existed

i do a similar thing with animals. Because when you find a fossil, odds are it's not the first or last of it's kind. For example, Elasmotherium, the Siberian Unicorn, a rhinoceros the size of a modern elephant, was given the dates of about 2.5 million years ago to about 200k years ago. Because we had an elasmotherium fossil from 200 kya but we had no fossil evidence of them after that.

Now, if they all died out 200 kya, then there's a very good chance that modern humans never saw them. But then! we found a fossil from about 50 kya, and then some elasmotherium fossils from about 37 kya, And that changes all kinds of things - for example it means they probably went extinct around the same time as the Neanderthal and the rest of the ice-age mega-fauna, possibly because of us.

So if I see a perfect species to be a troll or a unicorn or a dragon, but the fossil record doesn't show them in that time period, i'm okay with moving them to either side of the fossil record by a few hundred thousand years, because there are plenty of instances where that's how the actual discovery of information has played out.

Anyway, sometime between 200 and 300 kya we finally step on the scene, Homo Sapiens Sapiens. Tho in the way of these things my guess is that those dates get pushed back to between 300 and 400 kya by some new discovery before long

But whatever, if you look at the last couple hundred thousand years, you've really got a lot of opportunity for fantasy race match ups. Let's look at Neanderthal as Dwarves.

Now first of all, the human mythos that has the dwarves that most of us think of in a fantasy setting, those specific dwarves are loosely based on stories that are based on stories that were based on legends from Scandinavia, mostly. And in the very earliest of these scandinavian legends, it is unclear what size the dwarves are -- they are described as both pretty small, and also very large

But compared to us, Neanderthal were both short and huge. This is roughly the height difference between an average Neanderthal man and an average Sapiens man from 200k years ago

but! neanderthal were THICC. look at these skulls

look at that! The eyes are bigger, the jaw is both bigger and thicker, the teeth are bigger, the brain is bigger, the nose is bigger everything about this skull says it was LORGE. Neanderthal were much larger than Sapiens, they were just shorter.

hold on, it's easier to see if you remove the shadows and background

Their whole skeleton is like that compared to ours. That's a BIGGER creature on the right. Just shorter.

This would explain the early dwarf legends that go back and forth between calling them smaller than people and larger than people.

Now. Neanderthal lived in caves. They made large exceptionally well crafted axes (tho stone not metal). They had leather working tools and they hunted mammoth, so they could well have been dressed in protective leather, thick enough to act like armor (elephant skin is a full inch thick, and mammoth hide was thicker). Neanderthal were short, and bearded, and sometimes had red hair.

Short, strong, bearded, master crafters known for large axes, some of the best armor of the time, lived in holes in the ground... If you want to find fantasy Dwarves in our real past, look no further.

Other match ups are harder, because evidence is slim. Denisovans for example were only discovered in 2010, and the only two Denisovan bones we know of are a pinkie finger bone (smallest bone, from the tip of the finger) and an incomplete jaw bone with a couple teeth in it. That's it, the only two Denisovan bones that we know exist (we suspect a few bones we previously classified as Neanderthal and other hominins are actually Denisovan bones but we aren't sure).

The miraculous thing is we were able to sequence the DNA from the pinkie bone. So we do have a whole DNA sequence from a single Denisovan. That's how we know we interbred with them as well as the Neanderthal.

Which shows just how much there is we don't know. Like, These were a whole sister-species of people, contemporary to both us and Neanderthal, so relevant to our existence that we interbred with them, and we had ZERO idea they existed until 2010, and our current total physical evidence of them existing at all is two small bones, and some archaic DNA.

That's so wild to me.

Anyway, it seems likely Denisovans were larger than the Neanderthal, and there is no reason to think they couldn't have been taller too, so i'm kind of leaning toward a sort of mountain giant vibe. Like I basically think they are to modern humans what mammoths are to modern elephants. Bigger with a lot more hair, a kind of woolly giant

Like, if they are very large of bone and build, even a foot taller than an average person is going to feel like a lot. Which i guess brings me to giants.

Listen, even without the super thickness of their bone and muscle, it doesn't take much height to be described as a race of giants when you tell the story of seeing them. People think of fantasy "giants" as like 20 feet tall or whatever but i promise you if you even make them 7 feet tall on average, that's a race of giants to any human of the time

like, here's a guy (Olivier Richters) who's 7 feet 2 inches tall

Now imagine his bones are all twice as thick.

so it's not going to take much height to have people coming back home talking about the giant people they met, like no, you don't understand, they were SO big, it was like standing next to a mountain of bone and muscle.

In fact, six feet tall is not an unusual size for a modern man, and this man at seven foot two is literally nicknamed The Dutch Giant, and Andre the Giant was seven foot four... like, we literally call people of this size "giants" to this day

Kevin Hart is 5'5", which is Neanderthal height, so here's Kevin Hart next to Lebron James who is not even seven feet tall, he is 6'9" which is a totally believable height for a sister-species of large people

okay, and then right in between them but waaaaay more slender than Neanderthal or Denisovan, would be us, homo sapiens sapiens

I lowkey think we must have been the elves, actually. Pointy ears weren't associated with elves until 19th century victorian literature. The key components of the Alfar of supposed Norse mythos (but as recorded by anglo-germanic peoples in the ninth century i believe) was they were beautiful or graceful, had a lot of magic (this is when science and magic were often the same thing) and made people sick, which is historically what happens when new groups of humans move into an area already inhabited by humans.

So you've got a not too tall not too short, slender and graceful people who are more reliant on fire and crafting to survive than other races in the northlands, who bring mysterious knowledge and illnesses with them wherever they go. I think maybe those elves were Sapiens.

If the Denisovans and Neanderthal had their own stories and legends (and they had fire and spoken language, so i assume they were sitting around the fire telling stories, like, surely you don't have both hanging around a fire and spoken language without campfire story-telling happening - and personally, i think memorizing stories and chants that contained information to be passed across the generations was probably one of the major reasons a full language developed in the first place, and i think these learning stories and information chants and teaching songs were such a huge human innovation that i believe it could basically be considered the first internet. One of the very oldest human technologies from the time of Erectus.)

ANYway, if they had their own stories, and homo sapiens sapiens invaded their lands, there is a thing that happens where the stories of the region get taken and told by the invaders as their own. We see it over and over in history, even as recent as in the US, folklore about such figures as Johnny Appleseed were actually based on the folklore of the indigenous people, whose own stories were often adapted from the stories of their neighbors, be it through alliance or conquest.

My point is, homo sapiens sapiens may have wound up telling stories about "elves" and "people" when in the original culture the "elves" were the Sapiens, and the "people" were, for example, Denisovan.

speaking of Denisovans and Neanderthal, they took a smart computer program, and they showed it a bunch of people's DNA and said this is the pattern you should recognize as modern human, and then they said here is a neanderthal's DNA and the computer said "i see some neanderthal DNA is in the human DNA" and they showed it Denisovan DNA and the computer program said "i see some denisovan DNA in the human DNA"

But Then! the programmers said "because you have more than one ancient genome to compare with each other, can you recognize instances of other ancient human DNA interbreeding?

and the computer program said "yes i see DNA from several interbreeding events with multiple unknown archaic human species and also Homo Heidelbergensis (which if you remember up until relatively recently was considered to be the same as Homo Erectus)

So we've got a couple freebies to match up to the fantasy races. All we know is we have little pieces of DNA from like three total unknown human species, at least one of which was probably from north africa and might well have been the origins of the "dark elves" of scandinavian mythology

I've landed on a sort of "first people" or "elder race" for homo erectus, both more primitive and more capable (more able to survive wilderness, and in some ways smarter) than the other human species, and somewhat rare to find.

a note about goblins. There are whole cities on modern earth that are absolutely TORMENTED by baboons or macaques - they form literal gangs and rove the streets stealing everything they want and attacking anyone who gets in their way. Imagine the hellish reality of a species halfway between ape and human, not smart enough to make many of their own tools, but for sure smart enough to steal and use anything you make, retaining the long fangs most apes have, as strong and vicious as a chimpanzee but able to run upright and much more clever, perhaps with a rudimentary language...

So whether you want goblins or giants or elves or dragons or whatever, if you relax the dates a little there are plenty of very real possibilities to use.

Next we'll look at Magic

First of all, magic is essentially just science we haven't been able to explain yet. Right?

So for example, we know this valley is cursed, you can walk through it during the day and probably survive, but go into that valley at night and we'll find you dead with no marks, just like the unmarked dead animals we find, and nothing ever eats the dead bodies in the valley, but sometimes dead scavengers will be seen next to a body like they wanted to eat it but died before they could. Cursed.

Also real. This valley exists. It happens to be above a subterranean pocket of carbon monoxide. Carbon monoxide is colorless, odorless, and heavier than air, so it lays in a blanket along the ground. During the day. At night the temperature change allows the carbon monoxide to drift upward a few feet. The deeper into the valley you go, the more pooled carbon monoxide there is, because heavier-than-air gas acts a lot like water.

So you can literally stand on the hillside under a full moon and watch a person walk into the valley, stop in confusion, start gasping weirdly and then fall down dead. If you don't have the ability to detect carbon monoxide, "cursed" or "haunted" is actually about as accurate as you can get.

Let's look at a wooden sword or wooden arrow/spear head. Several cultures are known to have used wooden swords and spear tips (wooden swords are all about the weight - if it's heavy enough you can chop someone's arm off with it even if it's only kind of sharp) for example this Ikul from the Kuba tribe

or this wooden sword from probably the Baoule

spear- and arrow-heads have been made from all available material throughout time, from shell and bone and antler to stone and sharks teeth and, yes, wood.

So lets say you find the grave of someone who died a couple thousand years before, buried with a wooden sword and some wooden spear heads. They are in a bog or near a volcano, which can seem like haunted landscapes, but importantly this increases the chance of changing the wood into something magic: wood that doesn't burn in the fire and is hard as stone.

I'm talking about petrified wood, of course. The organic wood has been used as a scaffolding for the organic material to be replaced by a mineral composition, usually silica and any heavy metals available in the area. And if the tree was high in an organic compound called lignin, which is a commonly found in many trees, then one of the heavy metals most likely involved in petrifying the wood and replacing the organic matter is... uranium. Because being buried in ground rich with volcanic ash is one of the situations that creates petrified wood, and uranium is more commonly found in and around volcanoes, this is a thing.

So you might find a magic piece of wood that was very cursed indeed. Uranium itself does not glow, but uranium in glass does glow a bit (which is where the popular concept of radioactive things glowing comes from) and silica (the most common mineral in petrified wood) is basically just naturally occurring glass, often formed as quartz or other crystal but silica is literally also what we use to make industrial glass too. And petrified wood is full of it.

if you look close at this chunk of petrified wood, you can see it is sprinkled with quartz almost like it's been salted

the whole thing is infused with silica crystals, which is why you can polish petrified wood like a crystal too

and since uranium in glass is what made these famous dishes glow

... if you found a strange wooden weapon buried in volcanic ash for a few thousand years, then you miiiight wind up with a magic weapon that is somehow very clearly wood but also very clearly stone, super hard (7 on the MOHS) that causes an early death to any who carry it daily in their life, and which in the darkest dark, glows a faint and ghostly green

And lastly, along with my view of magic being science is my firm personal belief that the first magic/science was cooking.

Many chemical processes are evident in early cooking, from processing poisonous cassava roots into a staple food source, to fermentation of alcohol, to chemical transformations of sugars and proteins. Like, what happens if i stir an egg into this? And then heat it up a bunch? Things happen, that's what. You ever try to dial in a cookie recipe? Where you do the same exact recipe over and over changing only one small variable each time? and the cookies turn out very different depending on which thing you change? As far as i'm concerned as soon as we started using fire to cook, we started using the scientific method to be able to replicate delicious experimental outcomes

Not only that, but many non-food technical advances happened by mixing things over a fire. For example, some tools were stone blades affixed to wooden handles using a sort of tar-putty glue ... made by mixing things into tree sap over a fire. If i recall, modern humans have still not been able to recreate it exactly as the recipe is long lost.

Combine this with the fact that even monkeys and weasels are known to use medicinal plants, and preparing medicinal plants has always seemed to use the same tools as cooking plants? Clearly (as far as i'm concerned) cooking is the magic that became science quite early.

Lastly, back in the day, anything wondrous or amazing could be considered magic. Like, oh? you can tell there's going to be the worst winter in ten years because of the star patterns? You made friends with a bear? You created a drink that makes you feel like you're a whole different person? Magic, magic, and more magic.

The reason I like to say a "tolkienesque" fantasy for this universe, is not only for the middle earth vibes, but because in LOTR the magic is not the more common high fantasy super magic with a wizard's school in every city -- no, it is special ancient knowledge and a few secret skills and one or two inexplicable abilities. It's the kind of thing that is just common enough to be acknowledged or known of, but most people only come into contact with it extremely rarely, if at all. It's definitely not a setting where somebody is casting cantrips on a street corner for money.

Speaking of street corners

Now we look at societies

So my supposition is there were empires or kingdoms and various advancements like agriculture and mud bricks or whatever long before there is any evidence of that. But i think possible, because maybe the ocean ate all the evidence. Look at this

the sort of salmon-y colored areas are the continental shelves, and during ice ages, at the times the glaciers are at their maximum, a huge amount of these areas are above sea level. We have recently realized how important these lands may have been, and some of those areas have been named, areas like Sundaland, in between China and Australia, which are islands now but would have been a mountain-bordered "savanna corridor" exposed like this

or Doggerland between England and Europe

We KNOW humans love to live near the ocean. I believe these low lying, sea-bordering grasslands all around the world are where homo sapiens sapiens truly comes from.

And just as coastal cities and port cities tend to be the biggest most popular cities, almost all of the earliest city-states we do know of favored deltas, where large rivers meet the sea. I bet there were earlier civilizations on river deltas where some of those same rivers met the sea during the time the continental shelves were open, down on the coastal plains. But tens of thousands of years of mineralized salt water tides scrubbing away at the land does a lot more erasing than sitting in a mountain cave system or being buried in some desert sand does. And it's waaay harder to excavate underwater sites.

what you get with the earliest kingdoms is several city-states in a major river delta, where the Tigris and Euphrates meet the Persian Gulf, where the Nile meets the Mediterranean, the Indus River, the Ganges, the Yantze, the Huang Ho, these are all sites of some of the earliest city-states and kingdoms ever known

So i hypothesize that during the coldest parts of the ice ages there have been civilizations located on the deltas of these same rivers along the coastal plains of the exposed continental shelves. Which then flooded and were abandoned for a few thousand years at a time during inter-glacial periods.

I believe most of these flooded times humans were prevented from developing and operating large civilizations by the strong presence of our sister-species who would have controlled most of the inland resources and strongholds, forcing flooded Sapiens to survive on the fringes during inter-glacials, until the last climate cycle did a stutter step and broke a functional pattern, which left Sapiens and our sister species in a position where most of us were snuffed out.

Now as far as how these societies were structured, i don't pretend to know, but for the sake of a setting and story, here's what i like to surmise:

The earliest city states had a sort of format where the large ziggurats or stepped pyramids and towers were often the seats of power along with being either terraced garden agriculture or terraced systems of food storage and libraries. Then there was like, a winding main road with a bazaar or street market, and then some housing and zoned quarters, maybe an industry section, a trade and port area, warehouses, cemetery...

So i say, what if the format of mountain connected to port by winding road was a micro-re-creation of a larger earlier system? What if humans in our early inland city-states, were trying to recreate an older system where the Mountain People had star-knowledge of weather patterns and good timber, and the Hill Folk had vegetables and mushrooms and the best stone for tools, and the Plains People had meat and grain and rope (rope is a major tool, at least as important as stone tools, but it often gets missed in favor of more long lasting tool remains) and the River Folk traveled down the river from the mountains in summer, and caravanned back up in the winter, connecting all the human species and their resources. And when the violent take over subsided and the civilized development picked back up, a micro version of that system was the natural choice to attempt.

And of course if these early cities were on the coast, it would have been relatively easy to travel between them on any kind of raft up and down the coast... and even moving overland from major city to major city would have had known routes : follow this river up to the mountain origin point. Where you will meet the Mountain People. They can point you in the direction of the next major river leading down the other side of the mountain range, and that's how you can get from the Delta Kingdom on the coast of India to the Delta Kingdom on the north coast of China without traveling the ocean. It may have taken 18 months, not a lot of people would have done it, but it could have been a known route - and maps of this global network it might look like, idk, a sacred tree, or a nest of snakes. We might have even seen these maps and not know it, because the landscape is different now, and rivers change their courses.

So that's the basic premise and setting. And then i have a sort of plot hook that consists of "Travel around through encounters with all the different major Peoples, the Hill Dwarves and Mountain Giants of the northern lands, the Wood Elves, River Elves, and the Elves of the Plains; the elusive and elder First People, the Sea People, and the loosely interconnected network of Delta Kingdoms that brought them all together. During these travels, we learn more about the People of Before, because there is some evidence that there were once civilizations where the "current" civilizations are now built. What caused their downfall? Spoiler, it was climate change, and if the travelers look in the right places, they will find evidence that it all happened several times before... and it's about to happen again.

And then possibly the prophecy of world ending calamity could be tied to the Toba supervolcano erruptions in Sundaland. It would have happened twice, right at the beginning of the time i look at, nearly a million years ago, during what for my story would function as the First Age (or maybe the Second Age, if you count the time before there were any people as the First Age)

and then again about 75kya -- but the problem is the first one coincided with warming and flooding, and the second one coincided with cooling and re-opening of the continental shelves, so it's not a consistent type of danger, though in an immediate sense a super-volcano would surely be world changing for the people alive at that time.

Anyway, that's my Stone Punk prehistorical fiction universe.

I could keep going, talking about my theories on early wolf domestication and human/herd animal interactions, and the "caretaker" nomad agriculture i hypothesize about using examples from real cultures.

I could talk about the way if you cook with salt and honey and know how to make cheese and yogurt and how to bake, then the whole "if you eat fey food you're trapped and can never leave" because like, if you find people who can make like, a banana bread with honey, or a custard, or salty garlic bread with butter, how the hell do you go back to eating charred unseasoned food? And my other fey folk suppositions, like changelings between sister-species

I could talk about my theories on the ancient origins of the bear and lion and snake and eagle. How the bear mostly got pushed out, and sometimes the eagle combines with the lion into a winged lion, but ever since the eagle and snake became the rainbow winged serpent that moved off through the east to the Americas, in the earliest true empires we have evidence of the remaining eagle of the north west invaders always being against the snake of the south east peoples.. to the extent that when the US was a rebel colony it was symbolized by a snake, but as soon as the US became the oppressing empire state, the symbol changed to an eagle. I think the origins of that human psyche entrenched animal totem interaction began when the Denisovans were the Bear and other of our sister species were the Eagle, the Lion, and the Serpent, and that some of the weird cave bear skull ritual evidence we've found has it's origins in this.

But ANYWAY. That's my Stone Punk Universe, a WIP of legendary proportions :P and not a single bit of actual character or story to go in it T-T

#@jp-owl still a contender for my One (1)!#stone punk #fiction #worldbuilding

21 notes · View notes

remuswriting · 3 days ago

Text

THE ESSENCE OF LIFE; BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Bakugou chuckles. “Yeah, ‘cause no one fucking cared about us.” You shake your head a little. “I don’t think that’s true.” He’s no longer making eye contact with you. “I think they were just scared.” He looks at you, eyes scanning your face. “And you weren’t?”

WORD COUNT: 2,211 words

TAGS: Canon Divergent; Psychiatric Hospitals; Angst with Hopeful Ending; Discussion of Vomit; Platonic; Second Person POV; Not Beta Reader; M! Reader

NOTES: This is very much a self-indulgent thing as I deal with some stuff. Some of this is inspired based off of my experiences, but not all of it. Although nothing is explicitly said, please be careful if you think this could be triggering for you.

Bakugou Katsuki is a strong hero. He and everyone else in the world knew that, even if they feared he could potentially become a villain in the future. It was unlikely, but people liked to fear things. People know of his nature, how he’s abrasive, but care lies underneath. He may not be the kind who gently reassures civilians with his words, but he makes sure he sees them get to safety either in the ambulance or in their loved ones’ arms.

Something people don’t know is how much he cares about Midoriya Izuku. Back in high school, you saw a strange rivalry between them that you couldn’t depict if it was friendship or lingering hatred. You never thought too hard about it, though. It was none of your concern since you were in two different classes. Despite that, you thought Bakugou tolerated Midoriya at best back then. The current sight in front of you disputed that.

Bakugou’s hair is unwashed and messy. His clothes are disheveled and stained as if he put on whatever he first saw in his hamper. The dark circles beneath his eyes are dark and sunken in—he hasn’t slept properly in days, most likely. You don’t blame him, because if you were in his shoes, you’d be the same.

“Midoriya-san can’t have visitors currently,” you say, and Bakugou stares at you. His crossed arms squeeze against his chest slightly, as if holding himself back. “I can answer some questions, but he’s not ready to see anyone yet.”

Bakugou nods slightly, and you think he’s going to leave. “I asked for you,” he says instead. Because of the nature of the ward you work in, none of the staff’s information is online. So, you don’t know how he knows you work here.

“I know,” you say. “Why?”

Bakugou furrows his brows, and he’s always worn his heart on his sleeve. Or at least you’ve always believed so. Ever since high school, it’s been easy to read him. However, you’re a nurse at a psychiatric hospital now. Maybe that’s why it’s always been so easy.

“What do you fucking mean?” he asks, and his aggressiveness means he’s being honest. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I didn’t know you even knew who I was up until five minutes ago,” you say, and he slowly nods as if it’s connecting in his head. “So, excuse me for being a little confused.”

“I saw you when we were in high school,” he says, and your brows furrow slightly. Never had you two spoken in high school. Both of you stayed in your designated areas. “In the beginning of our second year, there was a villain attack. You were the only non-hero course student that didn’t fucking run away. You actually ran to us and tried to help.”

You nod a little. “I remember,” you say, because you do remember. You remember never hearing thanks and learning that heroes never thank those who haven’t made saving people their profession. It was what led you to no longer be impressed by heroes anymore. “I’ve never been one to run away, especially when the ones trying to save us needed saving, too.”

Bakugou chuckles. “Yeah, ‘cause no one fucking cared about us.”

You shake your head a little. “I don’t think that’s true.” He’s no longer making eye contact with you. “I think they were just scared.”

He looks at you, eyes scanning your face. “And you weren’t?”

You’re silent for a moment as you look behind him at the koi pond. The eating disorder unit is currently out for activities and surrounds the koi pond. They’re the ones who steal cereal the most to feed the fish, because it brings them so much joy. It’s always hard to tell them no, and most nurses don’t.

“Sometimes, fear makes you do stupid shit.” You pause as you look at him. “Every patient here was scared before they got here—before they got better.”

Bakugou is smart, and you hope he understands. You hope he understands that Midoriya fear made him end up here. The fear of what is something for them to talk about, not for you. The crease between Bakugou’s eyebrows softens slightly. He understands just a little.

“You should’ve fucking replaced one of those extras,” Bakugou says, and his arms aren’t squeezing his chest as much. “You weren’t scared.”

“None of you were ever extras,” you scold as you cross your arms. “I never thought that. I always thought that we were all children. You guys were forced to fight a war that heroes weren’t even willing to fight.” You look at his shoes. The laces aren’t even tied correctly. When you make eye contact, it’s overly intense. “It showed that heroes are just people no matter how much we idolize them.”

“Don’t tell Izuku that,” Bakugou says with a chuckle. Although he doesn’t sound serious, you both know he is. That’s something Midoriya refuses to hear—to acknowledge, even if it’s what he needs to survive. He deeply sighs. “We all wanted to fight.”

You nod. “I know, Bakugou-sama.”

“You can call me Bakugou-san.”

You pause as you watch him. He’s finally relaxed, and his honesty is loud. “Okay, Bakugou-san. How can I help you today?”

“Can you tell me how he is?” he asks, and there’s a slight hint of desperation in his voice. He won’t let it come out completely, but you still heard it.

“He… There’s no correct time frame for grief,” you say, and he slowly nods. “I can’t tell you the things you want to know—what he’s saying—but I can tell you that Midoriya-san isn’t the first person to be like this over grief. Nor will he be the last. He just needs time.”

“Are you putting him on more meds?” Bakugou asks. “Cause they had him on a shit load on meds in the hospital, and it was fucking him up. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“That medication was pain medication, and you told them he needs heavier dosing so his quirk doesn’t burn through it,” you say, and there’s a line you’re walking on. Midoriya hasn’t been conscious enough to sign anything saying Bakugou can know everything. “They may have gone too heavy with the dosing. I don’t know, but he’s been dealing with that the last couple of days as well.”

“How long until he’s not sick?” Bakugou asks, and you open your mouth. “Everyone keeps asking me when he’s gonna fucking be okay, and I don’t know.” He pauses, and his voice is softer when he speaks next. “I don’t know what to tell them.”

“Once the medication is out of his system, he’ll be able to have visitors,” you say, and his posture slouches slightly in relief. “Tell everyone that he’s safe. I’ll call you when he can have visitors, and it’ll be an appointment only because of who we have in our unit.”

Bakugou nods as he lets out a deep breath. “Thank you, L/N-san.”

It’s still strange that he knows your name, and it’s even stranger to actually hear him say it. “How do you know my name?”

“I looked you up after the villain attack and tried to get into 2-A.” Bakugou chuckles. “Thought I imagined you for a while, but Dunce Face remembered you. So I went to Aizawa, and he said he’d look into you, but nothing ever happened.”

You froze before letting out a light laugh. “You.” Your smile grew. “You’re the reason I got to work with Recovery Girl.”

Bakugou’s grin resembled the one he had when he was named Number One Pro-Hero last year. It was strange for him to look this happy without that award in front of him. “That sneaky bastard.”

“Thank you,” you say as emotion swells in your chest. You know what it’s like to never get thanks, and it’s so relieving to give it. “Without you, I would’ve never gotten here. Thank you.”

Bakugou’s smile turns into a smirk. “Wasn’t all me. You’re the one with a badass quirk.”

You raise a brow. “You don’t even know my quirk.”

“Don’t need to know it to know you have hero potential.” He pauses as he looks around you two. There are trees and the koi pond, along with the entrance to the lobby. There’s not much to look at. Then he looks at you. “Before Izuku got his quirk, he ran into danger for me once. What you did back then reminds me of him.”

Your smile is small and soft. “From what I’ve learned about Midoriya-san, that’s a genuine compliment.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” Bakugou says, as if to make sure you understand. You do understand, though. There are more people similar to him than he realizes, and they’re not as difficult to handle as most people make them out to be. Misunderstood isn’t the right word for them, because it’s easy to understand them if you try. Maybe looked over emotionally is a better way to put it. “Can you… Can you tell him I stopped by?”

“If he’s up to hearing that, then I will,” you say, and he nods. “The beginning of being here is always the hardest, and I want to make sure he’s comfortable before we talk about anything that may be… triggering.”

“I understand,” Bakugou says, and his entire posture is relaxed. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him so relaxed. He’s either always standing up as straight as possible or has his arms tightly crossed against his chest. This is a good look on him, though. “I just don’t want him to think I gave up on him—you know, because of what happened.”

“Can I be completely honest with you, Bakugou-san?” you ask, and he reluctantly nods. “I may not fully know what your relationship with Midoriya-san is, but I do know he has full faith in you. After all the years you’ve spent fixing whatever problems you once had, he knows you’re still here. I have full faith in that.”

He slowly nods, trying to wrap his head around it. “Okay,” he says before taking another deep breath. “Thank you, L/N-san. You still have my phone number in case anything changes?”

The wind brushes both of your hair as it pushes by. “Yes, and you’ll be the first person we call.” You pause. “I’ll make sure to call you myself.”

Bakugou’s leaving is simple. There’s someone waiting at the lobby door for him to unlock it. He doesn’t look over his shoulder at you as he walks away, but you watch him the entire time. There’s a pull in your chest as you think about someone caring so much about you that they seek you out, even when they’re told no to seeing you yet. You know what love is—you see it every visitation and between the patients who grow close to each other—but what Bakugou and Midoriya have is something far greater than you understand.

Once he’s completely out of sight, you turn around and head toward the unit. You know several of them are going to ask where you went, and you’ll need a story that doesn’t reveal anything. They can’t know that Bakugou came here, especially when so many of them know him personally.

The door opens, and Hamasaki, one of the youngest patients, is waiting there for you. “L/N!” he says, and his eyes are bright. “You were gone forever.”

You look up at the clock. “15 minutes is not forever.”

“It is to me,” he says, and you give him a look. “I need my medication, and you’re my nurse.”

You chuckle. “Alright, give me a second.” Midoriya is sitting at the table across from the nurses’ station. “Midoriya-san, are you needing something too?”

He looks at you, and he’s looking better than he has, but exhaustion weighs him down. He’s not been sleeping well here, but from what you understand, he’s not been sleeping well for a long time. “Can I get a boost?” he asks, and you nod before looking over at Aiko, one of the techs.

“Can you grab him a boost while I get Hamasaki’s medication?”

Aiko nods as you two pass by each other at the nurses’ station entrance. She looks at Midoriya with a soft smile, one he slightly returns. “Do you want vanilla or chocolate?”

He pauses, looking ready to throw up again, but there’s nothing in his system to throw up. He’s not been eating because he’s been sick, and they’d give him one of each if he wanted to try them both. You know how difficult it can be for patients in the beginning, because this place is not their home and it resembles a form of control being taken away. However, it gets easier the more comfortable you let yourself be.

“Vanilla, please,” Midoriya says, and you smile as you log into the computer.

“Of course,” Aiko says as she goes into the kitchen.

You look at Hamasaki, who stares at Midoriya with a proud expression. He’d been similar in the beginning, so he knows how it is. “Alright, Hamasaki,” you say, and he looks at you. “What are we needing to get?”

#bnha x reader #bnha x male reader #mha x reader #mha x male reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x male reader

24 notes · View notes

aliciavance4228 · 3 days ago

Text

Let's talk a little bit about the Labyrinth

There's no secret that a lot of people out there (rightfully) mock Theseus for his low intellectual skills and memory issues. However, one argument I've often seen being brought into discussion is the difference between a labyrinth and maze, oftenly used in order make fun of the idiot even more:

However, there are a few aspects to be taken into account:

a) The Labyrinth was supposed to be a prison for the Minotaur as well. Assuming that escaping from it would've been so easy then the Labyrinth would've no longer been a prison for him to begin with.

b) There were ten people sacrificed to him anually. You cannot tell me that at least one of them wouldn't have been smart enough to figure out how to get out if the Labyrinth in question would've been just a "long, guided path".

c) The Labyrinth was designed by Daedalus, who is supposed to be clever enough to come up with something puzzling and head-scratching.

Then I found this fragment written by Diodorus Siculus:

"After the death of this king the Egyptians regained the control of their government and placed on the throne a native king, Mendes, whom some call Marrus. 2 So far as war is concerned this ruler did not accomplish anything at all, but he did build himself a tomb known as the Labyrinth, which was not so remarkable for its size as it was impossible to imitate in respect to its ingenious design; for a man who enters it cannot easily find his way out, unless he gets a guide who is thoroughly acquainted with the structure. 3 And some say that Daedalus, visiting Egypt and admiring the skill shown in the building, also constructed for Minos, the king of Crete, a labyrinth like the one in Egypt, in which was kept, as the myth relates, the beast called Minotaur. 4 However, the labyrinth in Crete has entirely disappeared, whether it be that some ruler razed it to the ground or that time effaced the work, but the one in Egypt has stood intact in its entire structure down to our lifetime."

To resume everything, Daedalus' Labyrinth was inspired by the Labyrinth of Egypt, a complex labyrinthine structure that once stood near the foot of the Pyramid of Amenemhat III at Hawara. Now, that labyrinth was eventually destroyed and nowdays can be only partially reconstructed, but we still have have ancient descriptions of it:

Herodotus was the very first person to describe it in Histoires, Book II:

"It has twelve courts covered in, with gates facing one another, six upon the North side and six upon the South, joining on one to another, and the same wall surrounds them all outside; and there are in it two kinds of chambers, the one kind below the ground and the other above upon these, three thousand in number, of each kind fifteen hundred. The upper set of chambers we ourselves saw;… but the chambers underground we heard about only… For the passages through the chambers, and the goings this way and that way through the courts, which were admirably adorned, afforded endless matter for marvel, as we went through from a court to the chambers beyond it, and from the chambers to colonnades, and from the colonnades to other rooms, and then from the chambers again to other courts. Over the whole of these is a roof made of stone like the walls; and the walls are covered with figures carved upon them, each court being surrounded with pillars of white stone fitted together most perfectly; and at the end of the labyrinth, by the corner of it, there is a pyramid of forty fathoms, upon which large figures are carved, and to this there is a way made under ground. Such is this labyrinth."

Next we have Starbo's account:

"...Before the entrances there lie what might be called hidden chambers which are long and many in number and have paths running through one another which twist and turn, so that no one can enter or leave any court without a guide."

Finally, Pliny the Elder described it as a “bewildering maze of paths” in the Natural History Book.

Later in the 17th Century Athanasius Kircher tried to produce the very first pictoral reconstructions of the labyrinth, based of Herodotus' description:

While it is uncertain why was the temple called a Labyrinth, there's a high chance that it was considered one simply because it was huge and complex enough to get lost inside it, when in reality it could've been intentionally designed as a maze where one had to find their own way through it. And if Daedalus' own work was more-or-less a faithful copy of the Labyrinth of Egypt then in this case Theseus needing Ariadne's help wasn't plain stupidity but Daedalus' brilliant mind.

#greek mythology #labyrinth #daedalus #theseus #minotaur #the minotaur #asterion #asterius #ramblings

18 notes · View notes

biotic-raptorian-angel · 1 day ago

Text

Unanimous- Moicy

Moira sat in a high-backed chair at the far end of the conference table, trying to maintain her composure. Across from her, a circle of Overwatch board members flipped through thick reports detailing her latest research—a radical approach to cellular manipulation and accelerated tissue regeneration. The overhead lights were too bright, the air too still, and Moira found her attention fixed on the rhythmic tap of one board member’s pen against the polished tabletop.

“Dr. O’Deorain,” the chairperson finally said, setting aside the sheaf of papers. “Thank you for the thoroughness of your work. However…” He exchanged glances with his colleagues, who nodded in silent agreement. “We have serious concerns about the ethical ramifications of these experiments, as well as the potential risks. We cannot approve further funding at this time.”

Moira stiffened, forcing calm into her posture. “I see,” she said through clenched teeth, meeting their eyes evenly. “And how do you suggest we proceed?” She asked it carefully, though anger simmered beneath the surface.

The chairperson cleared his throat. “We’ve decided to consolidate resources and direct you to assist Dr. Ziegler’s ongoing medical research. Your talents and expertise will be valuable—under her guidance.”

Silence pressed in on Moira like a physical weight. Angela, who had accompanied her to this meeting for additional input, turned toward Moira with a sympathetic frown. She seemed poised to speak, but the board moved on too quickly.

“A unanimous vote,” a second member said, tapping the cover of Moira’s proposal. “Your research is not being dismissed entirely, Dr. O’Deorain, but it will be tabled until we see a more measured approach. In the meantime, we are combining your staff with Dr. Ziegler’s. Effective immediately.”

Moira stood abruptly, the legs of her chair scraping harshly against the floor. She could feel Angela’s concerned gaze on her back, but she refused to meet it. “Very well,” she managed, voice clipped. “I trust that is all?”

“It is,” the chairperson answered, nodding. “We appreciate your cooperation.”

Without another word, Moira swept out of the room, lab coat trailing behind her like a dark banner. Angela hurried after, offering a quick word of thanks to the board before following her colleague into the corridor.

Back in the labyrinth of Overwatch’s research wing, Moira paced a small, sterile lab adjoining Angela’s primary workspace. Their new, shared lab. Half-emptied boxes of Moira’s equipment sat in disarray on the counters. The beep of monitors and the quiet hum of overhead fluorescents provided the only soundtrack to her simmering rage.

Angela lingered at the threshold, uncertain. “Moira, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know you were counting on this project. We can talk to the board again—maybe propose a compromise.”

Moira spun around, eyes flashing. “A compromise?” She let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not what they’re after. They want to stifle any cutting-edge breakthroughs that don’t fit their vision of safe, sanitized science.”

Angela bristled at the accusation. “That isn’t fair,” she countered, voice quiet but steady. “They’ve always tried to balance innovation with responsibility.”

Moira’s jaw set. “Yes, and because you have the board’s favor, you get to continue your ‘responsible’ research,” she spat. “Meanwhile, mine is shoved aside like so much refuse.” She flung a hand toward the half-unpacked boxes and disassembled equipment.

Angela stepped forward, a gentle hand raised in a calming gesture. “Your work isn’t refuse. I’ve seen your data, Moira—it has potential. But it needs more guardrails. More thorough testing. I can help—”

“Help?” Moira repeated, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “They’ve chained me to you. Don’t pretend this is anything but a leash.”

Angela’s face fell. “We’re colleagues, Moira. We can be partners—”

“You want a partnership?” Moira cut in, her voice sharp. “Then let me design my research my way. Let me push boundaries. Let me see what’s possible without your endless moral constraints. But that’s not what Overwatch wants, is it? They’d rather see me muzzled.”

Angela looked genuinely hurt. “That’s not what this is about.”

Moira turned away, picking up a folder of lab notes and shuffling them with quick, angry motions. “It doesn’t matter,” she said curtly. “If the board wants us to share a lab, fine. I’ll do what they ask. But don’t expect me to welcome you with open arms.”

Angela exhaled, struggling to keep her own frustration at bay. “Fine,” she replied quietly. “I’ll… let you settle in.”

She left the lab, the door sliding shut behind her. Moira stood alone, glaring at the cluttered counters. Jealousy coiled in her chest. While Angela’s regenerative research thrived—her name praised and championed by the board—Moira was left in the shadows, forced to subordinate her own ambitions.

Days turned into weeks, and the atmosphere in the shared lab remained tense. Angela tried—she scheduled collaborative meetings, offered her input on adjusting certain parameters, even proposed an experimental design that would incorporate some of Moira’s findings with her own. But every attempt seemed to fuel Moira’s anger rather than ease it.

One afternoon, the tension reached a breaking point. Angela entered the lab, balancing a tray of new test samples for an upcoming trial. She found Moira hunched over a microscope, hungrily scrawling notes.

“Moira,” she began gently, “these are the new tissue cultures. We can integrate them into your—”

Moira threw the pen down, whirling around. “Don’t patronize me, Ziegler,” she snapped. “I am fully capable of running my own cultures.” She snatched the tray from Angela’s hands with a quick, rough motion.

Angela’s cheeks flushed. “I’m just trying to keep our work moving forward.”

“Our work?” Moira hissed. “Please. This is your work. I’m just here to provide the novelty factor—maybe spice up your research so you’ll get even more praise. The board’s golden child.”

Angela stiffened, fighting to stay composed. “You’re being cruel,” she said, voice trembling with hurt. “I respected you, Moira. I thought we could learn from each other, but all I see is resentment.”

“Perhaps you should’ve thought of that before letting them cut my funding,” Moira countered coldly, her words as sharp as broken glass.

Angela opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t find the right words. She placed a trembling hand on the counter, steadying herself. “If that’s how you feel,” she said quietly, “then I’ll leave you to it.”

As Angela turned on her heel and left, Moira’s glare lingered on the closed door, the anger in her throat thick enough to choke on. But beneath the bitterness simmered something else—an uneasy sense of guilt. It wasn’t Angela’s fault that the board had decided to shelve Moira’s project. Angela had, in fact, given Moira’s proposals a fair read. Yet, acknowledging that fact would mean tempering her pride with compromise… and Moira wasn’t ready to do that.

Weeks wore on, and the collaboration remained fraught. Overwatch’s leadership, sensing the strain, demanded progress reports. Each time they stood before the board, Moira’s sections of the presentation were concise, almost coldly so. Angela would try to highlight the ways their combined efforts advanced medical science, only for Moira to redirect the discussion back to her own thwarted ambitions.

“This partnership is failing,” one board member finally noted during a particularly tense meeting. “We need results, and we need them soon.”

Angela found Moira’s gaze across the table. Instead of fury, she saw exhaustion etched into the faint lines around Moira’s eyes. It dawned on her in that moment that Moira’s relentless anger might be fueled by deep hurt—by the sense that her life’s work had been dismissed, and she was forced to watch someone else’s flourish.

But that epiphany offered little solace as the meeting ended and they parted ways without a word.

Late one night, Angela stayed behind in the lab to finish calibrations. She hadn’t expected Moira to still be there. Yet, behind a half-drawn curtain, Moira sat at a bench, flipping through old research logs on a holo-tablet. The overhead lights buzzed softly. The tension felt less acute in the quiet after hours, though it lingered like a stale odor in the air.

Angela hesitated, then gently rapped on the nearby counter to announce her presence. Moira didn’t look up.

“I won’t bother you long,” Angela began. “I just… want you to know I realize how difficult this must be. I know how hard you worked on your project.”

For a moment, Moira said nothing, eyes locked on the scrolling text. When she finally did speak, her voice sounded worn. “I was this close,” she murmured, pinching her fingers together in the faint lab light. “The data was promising. But they shut it down. And now… it’s as if everything I’ve done is worthless.”

Angela stepped closer, her heart twisting. “You’re brilliant. It’s not worthless. I—I do wish the board would have handled it differently. But we can still salvage your work, or integrate it, or—”

“Or bury it,” Moira retorted, though the bite in her tone had dulled. “I’m jealous, you know. Of how easily they accept your ideas. How eager they are to champion you. I’ve had to claw my way to even get a seat at the table.”

Angela lowered her gaze, a wave of empathy washing over her. “I never meant to overshadow you.”

Silence hung between them, thick and still. Then, for the first time, Moira looked up, her expression more conflicted than angry. “I’m not sure what to do anymore,” she admitted, voice low. “I only know that each day in this lab feels like… I’m suffocating.”

Angela swallowed hard. She wanted to console Moira, to heal that wound the board’s decision had inflicted. But she was uncertain whether her words would break through Moira’s pride and lingering resentment.

“Maybe,” Angela said quietly, “we can find a middle ground. If there’s any part of your research I can help you refine—so the board will take another look—”

Moira stood up abruptly, the tablet clattering onto the desk. She brushed past Angela, not meeting her eyes. “We’ll see,” she said, voice eerily calm. “I’ll think about it.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving Angela alone with the low hum of computers and the swirl of her own thoughts.

Days later, the lab remained charged with tension. Angela and Moira worked side by side, exchanging only the most necessary words. But beneath the friction lay a faint, fragile thread of possibility—a tiny shift in Moira’s demeanor, a less combative edge. Perhaps it was the first hint that, however strained, their collaboration might yet bloom into something constructive.

For now, the wounds were still fresh, and the air still bristled with resentment. Yet both scientists knew Overwatch needed their brilliance. Whether that necessity could mend the rift between them remained to be seen. All they could do was continue—step by step, data point by data point—until time or a breakthrough forced them to face each other with honest intentions and the potential for reluctant, hard-earned respect once more.

A-Z Prompts

I've decided to try and keep up with daily writing by doing 1 prompt a day for each ship via the A-Z prompts I came up with below. If you like it or have suggestions for other prompts, please let me know!

Adoration

Bravery

Chivalry

Devotion

Ethereal

Friendship

Glamour

Healthy

Idol

Jukebox

Kingdom

Letter