#if you got literally nothing else from this yap session then it should be this:

[cervinae-canine]

It's always fascinating to compare Sniper's relationship with his parents in the 'Meet the Sniper' short with the comics. Personally, it's because of how it evolves from a brief mention to a sincerely satisfying character arc.

"I'll be honest with you. My parents do not care for it [it is him being a mercenary]."

In the short, it shows that either one or both of his parents disapprove of his decision to be a mercenary. Which no doubt, would cause strain in any relationship; regardless of the closeness. It doesn't particularly mean they're distant, however, as we see Sniper talking to his dad on the phone. (though it is shown via an argument).

I can argue that this was a subtle display that they both still cared about him enough to not completely cut him out of their lives, despite the understandable reason if they were to. I've seen some that suggest his parents might've disapproved of his mercenary work because they fear having to attend their son's funeral. Regardless of the reason, they kept contact with him, but their dynamic was strained.

Of course due to the short amount of time, this point was skimmed through and was fairly quick in pace. His complicated family issues were established and for a very long time, this was not explored until in 2014 with "Blood in the Water".

Sniper's specific arc in the comics revolves around wanting to find his birth parents after his adoptive parents passed away, or in his words; his "real parents."

Even in just the establishing scene with his birth parents, it already showed them mainly caring about themselves over the baby Sniper. And him ending up in the rocket that gave him safety was completely unintentional, as the two were bickering over who should use it.

By contrast, we see Mr. and Mrs. Mundy going to the crashed rocket and later implying to raise Mick as their own.

Throughout what we see of his birth parents, they're shown to be bumbling and drunken respectively; with neither really caring about each other. Let alone Sniper. Firstly in Bill-Bel's case, where he asks for money right after showing the rocket that ultimately saved Sniper's life.

And then in Lar-Nah's case, where she took the rocket to escape and abandoned both Bill-Bel and Sniper to potentially die as a result (excluding soldier and miss pauling).

Their presence doesn't have to be constant to infer that both of these characters are self-absorbed; only caring about oneself, anyone else be damned.

Despite the consistent displays of disrespect from both parents, Sniper still very much cares about them. Where he's completely willing to put his own life in jeopardy in order to get his dad to safety.

And to have that care be thrown in Sniper's face.

But despite even that, Sniper held hope and kept his expectation that he may potentially care in some capacity. He just wanted anything; any shred of assurance that his "real" parents cared about him. Something to call 'home' after his adoptive parents passed. Something to make this search for his ""real"" parents feel worth it.

You can see the genuine happiness on his face when under the impression that his dad came back; to save him. Only for it to dim when...

This part is not directly stated but after having his trust be disregarded multiple times by his ""real"" parents, he concluded one important thing: His adoptive parents are his real parents. He was their real son. He was a Mundy.

On top of that, it shows that his parents seem to develop as well. The disapproval, the arguing in the 'Meet the Sniper' short; is nowhere to be seen here. What we see are two parents that genuinely want the best for their son, even calling him a 'professional' and focusing on him staying alive rather than staying in heaven with them.

These were the exact words that Sniper needed to hear. There is no debate: Mr. and Mrs. Mundy are his parents.

I think his arc of finding his "real" parents already stood on its own but with the additional context that his relationship with his adoptive parents were tumultuous at best, it made the emotional impact of both, stronger in hindsight.

[pompadorbz]

Since I'm kinda on a protozoa rainbow kick from yesterday morning's post, lemme yap a little bit more about Some of the other characters; Talulu in particular!! She's your very typical child protagonist who gets roped into business that somebody her age should never, EVER have to get involved in! it's the result of a long domino chain and once Lulu takes a few steps in, she can never walk out.

She's very plucky and high energy, but can be very impulsive and short-tempered. She likes fishing and marine biology, playing computer games (her favorite is a popular sandbox game called PrismSekai), and fashion!! She lost both her parents at a very young age, but lives happily with her adoptive caretaker (omitting info on him for now since he's still very in-progress. he doesn't even have a name yet) who either runs an orphanage or a schoolhouse. I haven't quite decided yet oops.

Lemme explain how magical girls work in this universe; Currently they're just called magical girls as a stand-in since deciding on a name for them is a struggle I've been having on and off since this story's conception, but anybody can be a "magical girl", and it's not restricted to any age group or gender or what have you. It's more like a race of humans on its own, or being born with specific genetics.

All of the "magical girls" follow the exact same rules in this universe; when one of them is born, somewhere else; be it close by or in a location determined by fate, an object will appear, and no matter what they do, it will always find its way to them. Usually it's something very small. Nothing that can't fit in your pocket.

They go by a lot of names depending on where you are in the world or what object they take the form of, but they all have the ability to summon forth a person's universe-determined companion (sorry for all the boring names so far, I'm still workshopping this stuff before i commit to any permanent cool terminology), who will allow them to transform! These companions are all typically fairly large and more often than not, range from looking moderately to incredibly odd!! Sometimes even a little scary!!

These companions do have personalities and can speak, but they aren't able to think for themselves or really make decisions influenced by anybody other than the person they're assigned by fate. Whether or not they're aware of this varies from companion to companion, but Lulu's companion, Shin'ya, is one of those more aware ones. He's a would-be voice of reason that acknowledges that he cannot physically fulfill that role in his most base form.

When a person wishes to transform with their companion, the companion's body itself will turn into the user's weapon, while their consciousness is transferred directly to the user's body. It is in this form that the companion's personalty will merge with their user's, thus giving them the ability to think for themselves, although it will only match the ideals of said user. I hope literally any of that makes sense.

In her transformed mode, Lulu's battling becomes more competant and focused, drawing out that inner voice of reason that Shin'ya's personality is otherwise unable to apply. Though it should be said that a user can also transform halfway by only having their companion become their weapon but not transfer their consciousness, or they can have their consciousness be transferred while the body of the companion just sits there like an emotionless husk. Depending on the companion, this can prove to be useful in some ways!

And in terms of Lulu on her own, that's kinda all I got. htgdfgtyj. But I hope you enjoyed this short yap session regardless!!

[pleasurextreasure]

Ascension (pt. 1/?)

genre: mama!exo, reader x baekhyun

warnings: none yet

word count: 1.6k

prompt(s): Holders have always been shunned by the world, until an organization came about and started to kidnap their race to experiment on - your brother being included. You planned to only take him back until your plans take a complete twist when you cross paths with Baekhyun.

a/n: gotta make admin kay suffer sometimes too you know - ➵admin kiki

Ξ r e q u e s t Ξ

I shouldn’t be here. None of us should be here.

I’m not sure how all of this started; How we all got confined to this white-walled place and spending our days worrying over who would be the next to be experimented on. We’ve lived these past few days in constant fear and deprived hope, wondering if we’ll ever make it out of here alive. If we’ll ever make it out of here at all.

They treat us like rats, their methods filled with punishment and reward. If we don’t cooperate, we’re tased or beat, on rare occasions, and drugged before they roll us away on a gurney to our indefinite doom. If we’re smart and cooperate, they barely use any force in bringing us to our experimental room. I’ve learnt bending to their will and going along with their rules is less painful.

My fingers rub against the metal bracelet they gave me upon my arrival here. Subject 4, it reads. I never really thought much of the number. Am I their fourth experiment? The fourth prisoner here? I throw these thoughts away because they don’t make much sense. Jongin, the tanned boy across the hall, bears Subject 88.

The two of us had arrived the same day, or at least that’s what he’s told me. I had woken up in this white-walled room and panicked, darting towards the metal black door - the only thing in this room that actually had any color to it - and yelling through the small barred window. That’s when Jongin told me to shut my yap or else they’ll come back. Back then, I had no clue who ‘they’ were.

But now, I’m afraid of ‘they’.

␛␛␛␛

The screams are loud. So loud that I can hear them even when I press my hard pillow against my ears and crawl up into a ball. They’re so loud. I wish they would stop but if they did, that would mean one of two things. Either their session ended or they died on the hospital table. I would much rather opt for the first.

I feel bad for the poor guy, Subject 94. He’s so skinny for his height that I wouldn’t be surprised if he tipped over from the blow of a wind. He came in just this morning. I don’t know his name, though. Which is sad because if he was to die on that table, I wouldn’t be able to mourn for him properly because of the unknowing of his name.

I clench my eyes shut when another ear-splitting scream makes its way into my cell. I want to leave this place. I want to go anywhere but here. Some place where I won’t have to worry about hiding my ability and live in worry, wondering when the next person will find out my secret.

But I’m here because of that specific reason. They found out. They watched me and watched me, waiting for the perfect chance to accuse me of magic. I don’t dabble in magic, though. I was just born with this. It’s not like I wanted this power that allowed me to summon light. I didn’t ask for any of this so why am I being punished for it? Because I’m different?

Come to think of it, I recall asking Jongin what got him in here a few days ago. All I can remember is him saying something about not being able to disappear fast enough. I wonder what kind of secret ability Subject 94 has. Maybe I’ll get a chance to ask him when they release out into the courtyard for lunch later. That’s if he even survives until then, that is.

The first few days here are torture. I can say that with firsthand experience. All I can remember through the haziness of pain is a woman clad in a white dress and coat sticking a needle into my arm that was hooked up to a bag that held a bright red liquid. The burning sensation that followed the liquid was excruciating and I recall screaming out, asking why they were something like this. I’ve never done anything wrong so why was I being treated this way?

The days following that terrible event were just as bad. I would be unconscious for a good part of the day and during the times I was awake, I was whisked away to the experiment labs. I tried pretending to sleep one of those days, hoping they would be fooled and leaved.

I was wrong. So, so wrong.

They tased me twice for my offense and told me they know everything. And I believe them. They truly do know everything. When I sleep, when I’m awake, even when I need to use the restroom. They know all these things. Yet I know nothing of them.

I only know of the name of this building, W.O.M.A., which I had the misfortune of hearing when two workers walked by. I wonder if anyone actually knows I’m here. That I’m trapped in this cruel place along with other unfortunate souls who are fearing for their lives just as much as I am.

I shouldn’t be here. None of us should be here.

␛␛␛␛

The buzzing that comes from the doors when they open makes me wince. They’re loud and ear-piercing and overall annoying. It’s not like I can actually complain about them vocally, though. A punishment would come my way if I speak out of line.

The thin electric handcuffs around my wrists keep my nerves on edge, a reminder of how little freedom I now have. The person in front me shifts forward, meaning we’re moving again. I stare at the back of his head as I trudge along. Jongin manages to step on the back of my heel and I nearly fall into the boy in front of me.

“Sorry,” Jongin whispers, voice low and cautious.

I give the smallest of nods and continue to look forward. Looking back also results in punishment. The rules given to us on the day we arrive are too many to keep track of yet we are expected to know and follow them.

Rule 27: Look ahead at all times. Failure to do so will result in discipline.

I’ve only remembered the ones that would lead me to severe conditions. Although my time here hasn’t been that long, I’ve grown accustomed to how they work around here. You would too if it meant having your life dangling on a line.

The guard leading our group swipes his identification card in the courtyard’s security system and it glides open with an obnoxious beep. Outside, the sun is high and blinding, making me want to shade my eyes with my hands. But I can’t.

“Alright, you all know the rules,” the guard says. “No roughhousing or trying to use your… abilities. You know what’ll happen if you do.”

With those words, he allows us to roam free in the caged yard and takes his position by the door that was beginning to close. I cast a glance at Jongin and he motions towards the new boy, Subject 94, a few feet away from us who looks lost and unstable. I get the hint and lead us to him.

“Hi there.”

“Hello.” His greeting is firm and short. Unsurprising.

“I’m Baekhyun, this is Jongin.” I nod at Jongin who still stands behind me. “What’s your name?”

“Other than ‘Experiment 94’?” He snorts, eyes clouding with anger. “Sehun.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Can’t say the same.” I don’t blame him. The only ones who we can truly blame are the people who brought us here in the first place. If it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t be in this stupid cage.

“Would it offend you if I asked you why you’re, uh,” Jongin gives a helpless smile, “you know.”

“Why I was kidnapped?” Sehun tries. Jongin purses his lips. “I don’t know. I guess they didn’t like the fact that a kid younger than them could control the air they breathe.”

“So you…”

“I can control the wind.” He clarifies. “I can whip up a windstorm in the matter of seconds. I can even take away your last breath with the snap of my fingers. I can do anything you can imagine that involves the wind.”

“Sounds terrifying.” Jongin shudders at the very thought.

“Which is probably why I’m here.” Sehun muses. “What about you guys? What did they lock you up for?”

“To put it in short, I couldn’t teleport fast enough. Bastards caught me when I was off guard. I was literally on the toilet when they barged in.”

“Sounds like a good time to get the shit scared out of you.” Sehun’s comment earns a laugh from all of us. But our laughter soon dies down when the guard shoots us a warning look. The towering boy then looks my way. “And you?”

“I’m not sure how I would describe this but I summon beams of light?” He raises an eyebrow in question. This makes me nervous and I add in, “Well, and I can take it away.”

“That’s something.” Sehun’s eyes show the smallest hint of amusement and it makes me loosen up a little. “I do have a question. Why can’t I use my ability now?”

“It’s the stuff they put in us.” I say. “It neutralizes a part of our brain that controls our abilities. They have to give us daily doses because it can only stay in effect for so long.”

“So I’ll be getting another painful shot of that red liquid tomorrow, then?” Sehun grimaces at the thought and I sympathize with him. Mainly because of the fact he still has no idea of what he will be facing in his oncoming days. “Well I guess it could be worse. I could be dead.”

It’s a possibility.

[jordanjaeger]

Marco Bott x Female Reader: Confessions

The sun’s rays shed no mercy during combat training today, causing the 104th training corps to practically crawl into the coolness that was the mess hall. It was Friday, and so far, the hottest day of the week. Only one more day until the scouts could finally catch a break.

“For gods sake, can Sunday come any slower?” muttered Jean Kirstein. He huffed irritably, still not recovered from the hellish training session that took place earlier.

“Patience is key, my friend,” Marco Bott chuckled before taking in another spoonful of his food.

The mess hall was filled with drowsy, tired, soon-to-be soldiers of humanity. Training had been dreadful that day, mainly because for some odd reason, Satan decided to make an appearance, and boy did he put on a show.

“I’m with Jean on that one. I damn near melted out there,” said Connie. He chomped down on a piece of his bread.

Out of everyone in the mess hall, Marco seemed to be the only one who was just glad to have survived another harsh day. He listened as his friends at the table continued to complain and groan, but still managed to stuff their faces at the same time. He was in the middle of laughing at something Connie said when naturally he looked up from his table and locked eyes with you. Marco’s laughter ceased at the sight of you, but the sudden contact made between you and him caused you to look away and direct your attention to Sasha who was yapping on about Commander Shadis having something against her. Marco didn’t look away, for there was something about you that seemed so familiar. Did he know you from somewhere? He continued to stare, hoping that the longer he studied your features, the quicker he would remember where he knew you from.

“Yo Marco, whatcha starin’ at?” asked Jean. He leaned in closer to his friend to follow his gaze. Jean smirked, returning his attention to Marco.

“Go talk to her.” This snapped Marco out of his trance.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, man.” Jean slapped Marco’s back in an attempt to put some confidence in him. “She’s cute. You should totally go talk to her.”  

“I.. well.. alright,” said Marco, surprising Jean for having agreed so easily. Marco stood from his spot at the table and inched his way out. He began to walk over towards you, certain that you and him crossed paths before.

“Excuse me, Miss.” He interrupted Sasha’s run-on sentences and caught the attention of your table. You looked up at him, obviously embarrassed from having been caught staring at him just a few minutes ago.

“I couldn’t help but notice you staring at me,” Marco began, hoping that his words didn’t put you on the spot, though his sudden appearance alone had already done so anyway. “I was wondering, have we met before? It’s just.. you look so familiar.”

“Yeah, actually, we have,” you responded. “You mean you don’t remember me?”

Marco blushed. He wondered how he could think so critically while under pressure, but not remember someone he use to know. Was he close with you? How come he couldn’t remember?

“Come on, MarMar.” You smiled at him, calling him by the nickname you once gave him as a child.

“(Name)?!” It was all starting to come back to him now.  

“How nice of you to finally recognize me,” you giggled. At that moment, Marco remembered everything. He realized who you were, and the memories began to flood him.

You were from the same town as him. Your parents were good friends with his, and as a result, you and Marco grew up to be good friends as well. You guys did everything together; play games, explore, spend hours at each other's houses, until one day, your grandfather became sick. Your mother made the decision to move immediately to tend to his needs, leaving you without the opportunity to say goodbye to your dear friend.

“Wow! You look amazing!” Marco exclaimed after realizing just how grown up, and beautiful, you looked.

"You don’t look half bad yourself, MarMar,” you told him. Now you were the one blushing. You couldn't help but notice how mature he had become. He was tall, with dark hair, the most beautiful of brown eyes. His smooth, tan skin was decorated with freckles, and his smile sent a rush of giddiness down your spine.

“Um, what the hell?” Ymir interrupted your conversation, wanting an explanation. You laughed at her comment, then turned to Marco to suggest that you both go somewhere else a little more private to catch up. Of course, Marco agreed happily. You gave Ymir a look to imply you would fill her in later, and with that, you disappeared outside with Marco.

The two of you stayed up to nearly midnight talking and laughing. You explained to Marco what happened to force you to part ways so abruptly all those years ago, which he understood completely and forgave you for. You discussed life in-between that time, what made you both become interested in joining the military, and your experiences so far, until silence settled and you found yourselves gazing up at the stars.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, intrigued by how the clouds seemed to be encircling the moon.

Marco looked at you, his eyes glistening in the moon’s light. He gawked at how stunning you were. He always thought you were pretty, but never would he have imagined you to look this breathtaking.

You realized Marco hadn’t said anything, and turned to catch him staring at you. Marco looked away. You giggled. Even after all this time, you both remained so similar.

“I should get to bed. We still have one more day of training before we’re off on Sunday.” You stood from your spot on the edge of the balcony leading into the barracks. Marco stood up next to you.

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed. “So then.. see you tomorrow?”

You nodded, and without warning, you leaned in to peck him on the cheek. “Goodnight, MarMar.” You waved at him before turning on your heel and heading to the girl’s room.

Marco placed his hand on his cheek, totally caught off guard by your gesture. He then recalled how you use to peck him on the cheek as kids whenever it was time to go home. It was your little way of saying see you later. Marco smiled to himself.

“Goodnight, (Name).”

—

For the next couple of weeks you and Marco were inseparable. Aside from things like training and sleeping, the two of you were always seen hanging out together. So much so that it was becoming apparent to everyone you were both more than just friends, even though you and Marco insisted otherwise.

“Come on, man. I know you like her,” said Jean as he leaned against the doorway of one of the bathroom stalls.

“It’s.. It’s not like that, Jean,” objected Marco. He watched as the water from the sink poured over his soapy hands, cleansing away all of the dirt and grime from another hard day’s work of training.

“Get real, I see the way you look at her. You’re not fooling anybody, at least not me,” Jean scoffed.

Marco didn’t respond. All he could think about was Jean’s words. Sure, Marco himself may have been good at reading other people, but one thing he forgot was that Jean could read him right back. After all, they were best friends, and Jean was right. For the past few weeks, Marco found himself questioning his feelings for you. At first he passed them off as excitement for having rekindled his friendship with you, but with every moment he spent hanging out with you, talking with you, watching you during training, he realized it was much more than that.

“Y-yeah, well.. maybe you're right,” Marco finally admitted. “So what should I do?” He turned to face his friend in search for an answer. It was rare for Marco to ask him for advice. Usually it was the other way around.

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Jean. “Tell her. Duh.”

Marco gasped. No way could he do such a thing, and risk ruining the friendship? Absolutely not.

“What? I-I can’t do that! W-what if she doesn’t feel the same way back? Or worse, what if it ruins what we already have?” As bad as Marco wanted to confess to you about how he felt, he was certain you weren’t going to reciprocate the same feelings.

“Listen, man. It’s better to confess now, then to wait until someone else comes along and sweeps her off of her feet. Isn’t that what you've always to told me?” Jean placed his hand on Marco’s shoulder.

Marco sighed. Jean’s words were nothing short of the truth. He had to confess, or else risk the possibility of someone else beating him to it. You were a beautiful girl, confident, strong, kind, everything anyone could have asked for, and you were right at his fingertips. All he had to do was tell you. What was the worst that could happen?

“Alright,” Marco murmured.

Jean patted Marco’s shoulder with a manly force.

“That’s my boy!”

—

It was a quarter after seven o’clock when everyone began filing out of the mess hall and back to the barracks. Marco spotted you dumping your tray along with Ymir, Sasha, and Historia.

“Now’s your chance. Don’t blow it,” Jean whispered before standing up from his spot at the table and heading back to the boy's dorms.

Marco took in a deep breath and stood up after him. He headed straight in your direction. You spotted him out of the corner of your eye and instantly turned to meet his gaze.

“Hiya, MarMar!” You called to him. Marco sent you his signature smile, the smile to which your heart always seemed to jump through hoops for.

“Hey, (Name). Got a minute? I need to talk to you,” he said. On the outside he kept his usual calm and collected composure, but on the inside he was a nervous wreck. His heart was literally begging to be freed from the cage his ribs made up.

You turned to your friends and told them you’d meet them back at the dorms. Ymir smirked at you, and made a kissy face but was pulled away by Historia and Sasha. You rolled your eyes before following Marco outside to a more secluded area of the base.

“So, what’s up?” you asked curiously. Marco stopped and turned to face you. His face was flushed and he avoided eye contact.

"Marco?" You stepped a little closer towards him. 

"I have to tell you something," Marco began.

"What is it?"

Marco hesitated before answering, then closed his eyes to recollect his thoughts. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Well, (Name), the truth is, I really like you,” he said, his eyes now fixated on your own.

You felt your body start to heat up as the adrenaline began to rush through your veins. Was this some sort of dream?

"I know we just recently caught up as friends, but it seems as though I've developed something more for you. I wasn’t going to say anything at first, but the overwhelming feeling of happiness I get whenever I’m around you has just become far too much for me to keep bottled up inside." Marco finished his last sentence sporting a shy smile. All you could do was stare at him, mouth agape and eyes wide. You couldn’t believe the words that were spewing from Marco’s mouth. For years you managed to keep secret the deep down feelings you felt for your freckled friend, hoping that one day, he would just pull you to the side and admit he felt the same way. Though you never expected for it to actually happen.

"Um, (Name)?" Marco brought you back to reality. You blinked and looked up at him, totally captured by his handsome features. The way his beautiful brown eyes stared into yours made your stomach erupt with butterflies.

"I like you, too!" You blurted out, and immediately slapped your mouth shut. You hadn't processed everything that was happening yet, but one thing you knew for sure was that Marco had feelings for you, feelings you never even knew were there.

“I mean I.. well it's just.. I um,” you found yourself stumbling over your own words. You stopped talking, allowing your brain to gather the right words to say. “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “It’s just, I like you, too, Marco.”

Marco felt his body relax and a weight of relief being lifted off of his shoulders. He smiled at you.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me feel,” he breathed.

You were almost certain you looked like a tomato from all of the constant blushing you were doing, but you didn’t care.

“So I guess the only question left to ask is, will you be my girlfriend?”

You couldn’t even utter a simple yes, let alone nod at Marco’s question. He chuckled lightly, knowing what you meant then reached out his hand for you to take. You did so without any second thoughts, and were pulled into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he did his around your waist, and buried your head in his chest. Then, pulling away just enough for you to peer into each other’s eyes, you leaned in to kiss him for the very first time on the lips, sending fireworks up and down both of your spines.