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#we dont talk about it enough for how much it has affected me personally

pinkiepie20000 · 1 day

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ PINKIEPIE20000 X MALE READER ((ANGST!!!)) (MPREG) (PINKIEPIE20000 IS NOT A FUTA)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis: you're pregnant and pinkiepie20000 is the father! while you dream of becoming a family, pinkiepie20000 has other things in mind.

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pinkiepie20000 blinked at the small bump in your stomach, scratching her ass intently, digging at the crack with fervor.

"why are you pregnant"

You gazed tearfully up at pinkiepie20000, fondling at your dinger donger.

"how did this happen? I'm not a futa..." pinkiepie20000 sighed, scratching her ass with disappointment. How could you have gotten yourself a fetus to develop in your stomach? You literally have a dingle dongle...

"so... pinkiepie20000" you smiled at your beautiful pinkiepie20000. "What are we going to name the baby..? Do you think it'll be a girl or a boy?" you giggled gently, caressing the baby egg with love in your eyes.

"kill it"

"..."

"kill it"

"that's a weird name for a baby...!"

"KILL THE BABY"

"WHAT"

"EVERYONE IS GOING TO TELL ME IM A FUTA IF THIS GETS OUT. YOU NEED TO GET OUT AND KILL THE BABY"

"can we honestly e date? you’re so beautiful. You always make me laugh, you always make me smile. You literally make me want to become a better person... I really enjoy every moment we spend together. My time has no value unless its spent with you. I tell everyone of my irls how awesome you are. Thank you for being you. Whenever you need someone to be there for you, know that i’ll always be right there by your side. I love you so much. I don’t think you ever realize how amazing you are sometimes. Life isn’t as fun when you’re not around. You are truly stunning. I want you to be my soulmate. I love the way you smile, your eyes are absolutely gorgeous. If I had a star for everytime you crossed my mind i could make the entire galaxy. Your personality is as pretty as you are and thats saying something. I love you, please date me. I am not even calling it e dating anymore because I know we will meet soon enough heart OK I ADMIT IT I LOVE YOU OK i hecking love you and it breaks my heart when i see you play with someone else or anyone commenting in your profile i just want to be your girlfriend and put a heart in my profile linking to your profile and have a walltext of you commenting cute things i want to play video games talk in discord all night and watch a movie together but you just seem so uninsterested in me it hecking kills me and i cant take it anymore i want to remove you but i care too much about you so please i’m begging you to eaither love me back or remove me and never contact me again it hurts so much to say this because i need you by my side but if you dont love me then i want you to leave because seeing your icon in my friendlist would kill me everyday of my pathetic life."

"no i need you to get rid of the baby"

You tearfully look at pinkiepie20000. Did she really just reject your confession of love and desire to edate her??????? A-and to tell you to get rid of your beautiful baby that probably looks like an oversized lizard right now..?

"N-no!!! I'll never do that!! It's my baby!!!" You scream, clutching your stomach, your legs shaking. "I SHOULD'VE CHOSEN THE BEAR INSTEAD OF YOU!!! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!! I LOVED YOU!!!!" you fall to the floor on your knees in a full blown sob. "I THOUGHT THE GIFT OF YOUR TEMU DINOSAUR DILDO WAS A SIGN OF OUR LOVE!! A KEEPSAKE!! A SYMBOL OF OUR ETERNAL AFFECTION FOR EACHOTHER!!!!"

pinkiepie20000 simply looked at you and turned into the shark memoji, winking at you and sticking her tongue out before returning to her main form, Jeffery from Class of 09.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO OUR CHILD!! YOU.. YOU...." you sob, groveling at pinkiepie20000's feet. Much to your dismay, she starts reciting the lyrics to Look at Me from TWICE, the KPOP group. "YOU DEMON!!!!!!"

pinkiepie20000 started eating grass silently. You scream in pain. "PINKIEPIE20000 I SWEAR ON MY LIFE THAT ON SEPTEMBER 5TH, AT 3:26 AM THIS CHILD WILL BE BORN AND I WILL COME FOR YOU FOR CHILD SUPPORT!!!!"

"im telling you to kill the baby not raise it that's your problem" pinkiepie20000 returned to scratching their ass with great enthusiasm.

"WH... WH-" You choke and sob, glaring at pinkiepie20000 with betrayal. "ARE YOU GOING TO LEAVE ME TO GO AND PEG THAT REDHEAD???"

pinkiepie spared you one last glance, smiling with a hand on their asscheeks, obviously giving them a good scratch. "I'm a Diluc pegger."

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this was honestly so beautiful i shed a tear, im violently sobbing, write more i'll shoot the man next to me WHY IS THE TEMU DINOSAUR DILDO THERE THATS FROM JANUARY

#genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #gender denier #diluc pegger #im a faggot

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schizopositivity · 2 years

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how to advocate for schizophrenics and psychotics in every day life:

correct people when they misuse the word "psychotic" (as in if they use it in any other way but a serious disconnect from reality, delusions or hallucinations)

correct people when they use the word "schizophrenic" as an adjective (its not!!! its a severe and persistant mental disorder)

correct people when they call people "crazy" aka "shes been acting crazy lately" (they likely dont actually mean it and this word is thrown around a lot, but as a schizophrenic im asking you to not use this word to describe people since this has been tied to me and my fellow psychotics for ages)

do not assume that a psychotic person is dangerous in any way (psychotic people are more likely to be the victims of abuse than be the abusers)

when talking about mental illness or the mental illness community as a whole consider, does this apply to psychotic and schizophrenic people as well? (if not, youre not talking about the whole community! its that simple)

do not purposley trigger someones paranoia aka telling people that theres someone after them (this is always harmful and potentially life threatening, its not a joke and never was)

dont assume schizophrenia is "just hallucinations and delusions" (its much more than that, it has negative and cognitive symptoms as well, which for some people is much worse than the positive symptoms of hallucinations and delusions)

dont make lobotomy jokes aka "lobotomize me" jokes (these procedures were used to turn schizophrenics into "pets" so that other people could better deal with us, its not a joke)

dont act "crazy" for shock value aka wide eyes, rocking back and fourth, shaking (our mannerisms arent for you to pretend to be crazy with, this is who we actually are, im looking at you rock bands)

dont fear the people on the street talking to themselves aka calling the cops on them (these people are suffering, these people need help, them being psychotic doesnt make them any more dangerous than anybody else)

dont use the word delusional for every idea you dont agree with aka "that conservative politician is delusional!" (delusions specifically describe strongly held beliefs outside of reality, not just beliefs outside youre specific world view)

dont expect people to express emotions the same way you do aka "why arent you reacting?" (many schizophrenics stuggle with flat affect and cant change it, it doesnt mean we dont feel things, just that we dont express them the same way)

dont expect us to be able to do the same amount of, or intensity of work you do aka "i work 5 days a week, you have it easy!" (executive disfunction is very common in schizophrenia, it doesnt make us lazy, we are just disabled)

dont post derealization without tagging it or TWing it as such aka that post with a fake european country saying that americans dont even know what country this is (we already struggle enough with figuring out whats real and whats not we dont need "pranks" or "jokes" trying to fool us without any TW)

dont assume schizophrenic and psychotic people cant see your post or view your media or anything else (we are real people interacting with the world just like everybody else, we can see your jokes about us, or your media portraying us as dangerous, we arent fictional characters)

dont assume youre superior to, or smarter than us (once again we are real people, we deserve the same respect as anyone else on the planet)

dont call someones delusion stupid aka "obviously youre not the reincarnation of kurt cobain thats stupid" (you have no idea how real these are for us, they dont always make sense to you but they do to us, please respect that)

dont ask if were hallucinating right now (its none of youre business! and if we say yes youll likely ask where it is, and if we show you youll likely look in the direction of the hallucination which is dangerous, it blends the real world with the hallucination and its already hard enough for us to tell the difference)

dont stop trusting us and what we say just because were psychotic (we still deserve to be listened to and trusted just like everybody else)

learn about less talked about symotoms like catatonia, avolition and word salad (these are just as common as the talked about ones, but just less talked about cause i guess it doesnt make for an intresting horror movie)

learn more about schizophrenia and psychosis from actual schizophrenics and psychotics (a great example is the podcast Inside Schizophrenia, scrolling through this blog, looking up students with psychosis)

TLDR: no go back and read it, its the least you could do

#schizophrenia #psychosis #schizophrenic #nd #mental illness #neurodivergent #actuallyschizophrenic #pseriouslypsychotic #mental health awareness #mental health #sanism #ableism #tw delusions #schizo #schizo spec #crazy #advocacy

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sandinmybed · 10 months

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big ramble about mike's love languages and how that relates to his relationships with will and el ahead!

its just occurred to me that in s3, during lucas and mike's little "how to apologise to a girl when you're gay and dont have any instincts in a straight relationship" crash course, the one thing mike did actually understand as relationship advice from lucas was "girls like presents." that's the thing he focused on the most, which was a great segue into a silly montage of lucas, mike and a very fed-up will running around the mall trying to buy gifts for the girls.

however, el doesn't give a damn about presents, not really. she doesn't really react to the flowers he gives her in s4 - she cares more about the note and what it says (and what it says does not please her.) el's love language appears to be words - she keeps mike's letters, and she's acutely aware of what they all say. she needs mike to *say* that he loves her - him showing how much he cares is not enough for el. so mike focusing on giving her presents was never going to work. his way of showing affection/love is not what she naturally recognises.

but yknow who does canonically like presents?

this boi.

continued under the cut because this got long:

the only advice mike's able to take from lucas' girlfriend apology training speedrun is the one that applies to him. mike's love language is receiving gifts. this isn't a "mike's so selfish" dunk post because hes literally thirteen and it makes sense to him that if he likes presents, el must like presents too. everyone likes presents, right? but it just further shows the disconnect between them. they can't recognise what the other person needs. (side note, el never gives him any presents or compliments him during the course of their relationship if i recall. mike isn't receiving love in a way he understands either.)

when mike fucks up with el, he needs a training course from lucas on how to fix it and he still doesn't understand what's going on (and lets not forget mike is smart as fuck, he should logically be able to work this out.) then, like four hours later chronologically, he fucks up with will. he visibly realises he's fucked up as soon as he says the infamous INMFYDLG line and without anyone telling him to, he travels miles in the pouring rain to fix it. notably, with words. will is also not interested in presents. mike isnt often (maybe ever?) shown giving him a present, but he gives will plenty of heartfelt words and verbally appreciates will. in season 4, he fights with will and el on the same day AGAIN, and what does he do? he brings el a plate of eggos, which she rejects by not touching them. they fight more, "a fight you can't come back from." and then later, his apology to will - he doesn't bring any gifts or peace offerings, he just calmly talks to him and apologises sincerely. and it works perfectly - they're back to sharing their feelings with each other and being best friends. the tension in their relationship is basically gone after that.

on a related note, let's look at what will and el do when they first see mike after a year, mike! six months. el plans a whole day together, doing all this crazy fun stuff like breakfast burritos and rollerskating, and mike goes with it but his response is noticeably a little confused. think about mike as a character - he's nerdy, a little awkward, he likes comic books, video games, movies, and stories. he's got his close friends but he's not really a social butterfly. he'd probably be just as happy to go home and watch movies together and hang out, rather than meet a bunch of el's "friends." it all goes to shit, as we know, which is neither el nor mike's fault, but it does.

will brings the painting to their reunion. will has been working on this painting for like a week, probably. he's poured tons of effort and time into it. he obviously doesn't get a chance to give it to him until the van, but when he does?

mike loves it.

that awestruck smile - this is for him and will made it. and we know mike particularly likes receiving will's art, he's been shown to have more of it on his walls than even joyce does. this is also why mike is so confused - these tags perfectly describe why mike is so messed up about the painting, imo. he likes gifts, and brings one for el, but el doesnt give him one back. but then will does, and he loves it, but will says its from el.

but this also explains why after the painting reveal, mike looks a little bit like he might know something's up.

gift giving/receiving and words of affirmation are the love languages that mike understands best, remember. so will byers, visibly emotional, has just given him an epic speech about how great "el" thinks he is, while presenting him with a handmade gift that's perfectly thought out for mike's interests that he poured hours of work into. let's not forget mike is very intelligent. i dont think he's fully oblivious like fandom thinks he is - when it comes to mike wheeler feeling appreciated, will has absolutely nailed it, and that's his downfall when it comes to hiding his feelings. he's too good at knowing what makes mike feel loved. so now mike's got to deal with will's perfectly adapted tokens of love and how instinctually easy he finds it to please will, vs his girlfriend, who never really makes him feel appreciated, and his own inability to make her feel appreciated

#mike wheeler analysis #mike wheeler #byler #byler analysis #anti mlvn #mike's love language is gift receiving #stranger things analysis #mike wheeler i know what you are

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

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Was reading thru ur answered asks again (also hey lol i CAME BACK--) and like. Oh my god. It gave me The Most Idea.

So you get isekaied to Teyvat right? They hear your og language, they revere every single worf from your mouth, yadda yadda yadda. But like. How does SLANG AND THE OTHER ASPECTS OF UR OG LANGUAGE translate. I am having VERY heavy flashbacks to Pokemons "jelly filled donuts".

So like-- for example: (this is the first one that came to my head dont judge me i am tumblr trash) (lets also assume that traveler has perfect understanding of ur language and slang and all the nuances of it)

Lets say you and the traveler were hanging out with some of the Vision holders, and the traveler had some shenanigans and pranks or something planned. After they pull their shit, you say "i hate you so much (affectionate)". Which kind of throws the Vessels in for a loop because like-- their god literally just said they HATED someone. And hate is a PRETTY STRONG WORD. So they should DEFINITELY strike them down for catching their gods ire but-- AFFECTIONATE????? how does one hate someone affectionately???????? Does this mean their god hates the traveler but decided to recind their hate last second? Is it some form of Divine and Holy emotion that cannot be described by the mere words of their language????

Meanwhile youre just there vibin and having a blast with the traveler while you casually give them a philosophical crisis AHAHAHA

Another example is shortened words-- because i know teyvat doesnt have shit like "ily" or "omg" or "lmao" or "fyi" or "brb". Because honestly, without the cultural knowledge and background of the internet, these sets of letters are just fucking GIBBERISH.

And i know that like-- i know enough internet slang abbreviations that i can literally just talk in jumbles of letters, so how in the WORLD would the vessels interpret that? Because its very clear that their god is just using the letters of their language, HELL they might even use Teyvatian letters so what in the world are they saying????

So theyd just hear a convo between the traveler and reader thats like:

Reader: traveler, i gtg asap; tldr i forgot some stuff back in the cr brb

Traveler: wait fr?

Reader: yeah fr

Traveler: lol f

Reader: (sighs) ffs man-- anyways brb for real

Traveler: cya

And the vessels are just watching the exchange like "huh?? What????? What just happened here??????" And theyre just wondering if they used teyvatian to talk in the "divine language of the gods" but nah-- yall are just dickin around AHAHA

Hey, so it came to my attention some of this was AAVE, and while i am southern so things like "ya'll" got included w/o me thinking - thats not an excuse for me to use this as a white person.

so if you wouldnt mind letting me please know if i do this as we talk abt language more and more - i do not want to repeat shit like this again.

I'm genuinely sorry to any black readers out there.

I've personally seen and cringed with you when I see imagines/reader things that assume a white person as default,

All I can do in ur eyes is promise that I am actively putting a stop to my ignorance of things like AAVE, and ask for forgiveness (which you arent obligated to give, never feel that way).

So with that in mind, read the ask below with caution, although it has since been edited.

____

ITS YOU!! >:D

A treat for ur ask my liege 🤲🍪✨️

I think u were literally the first asker after my first SAGAU/Isekai language brainrot post!! Omg u came back with a banger LMAO

What in the public menace is this...

(Gif is traveler and u pranking bitches)

Traveler knowing our world + language + SLANG?? INTERNET?? is SUCH A CONCEPT

So much room for inside jokes

I absolutely love the first one u said about phrases these days/gen z ig? slang

Its like so dramatic now that i think about it

Hate / love / dead / die / just straight up threats towards ur friends as affection or if theyre annoying u 😭

So many explicitives that make it hit harder too "go fucking die, my love <3"

^^^Or yeah like contradictions lol

♤

I think it was @nexylaza (srry abt the tag!) who replied to one of my earlier asks about blunt language how that might sound like to Teyvatians like ur emotions sound more extreme than what u actually feeling (which makes sense ur literally using hate = mildly dislike LMAO)

Same situation here like what u said ^^^

♧

(Ok i did lovely Aether awhile back so we'll go w/ Lumine this time! <3 u Aether!!)

*idk at an event/party for your arrival or something, and ya hungry fucks r hoarding the buffet table lol 🍻

You: "Shut the fuck up Lumine-"

Lumine: "Why r u pouring ur drink like ur in a earthquake lmao? Shaky hands lol"

*The immediate area of people around you go dead silent

*Lumine laughs

💀💀!!

Lumine: "Your gonna miss our cups LMAO"

You: "Bitch!" (u grinnin too lol)

*the whole rooms now quiet 😭

Lumine: "Don't spill- 🤣"

You: "I fucking hate you u whore <3"

(And u give the most genuine like abt to laugh smile🥰 )

*...a confused and kinda scared tension fills the room lol

*So poor Noelle, is like, oh. my. god. Creator is that upset with Lumine?? I must try to see what happened, how I can help! I dont remember Lumine doing anything bad to them! Shes wonderful y u do this to her 🥲

Noelle: "Uh, um, e-excuse me? Is every-everything al-alright, Y-y-your Majesty?"

You: "Huh? Yeah why??"

Noelle: "...w-well..."

UR FACE LIKE "😗?" LMFAO

*The room is staring at Lumine, in a mix of like shock, fear, and a little admiration for taking ur hate?? mood swing??? so well,,

theyre just waiting on Noelle to get an answer from you as to why you hate someone u seemed to care so much about, esp since they were ur first vessel 💀

look what you did their poor hearts u gonna give them a heart attack soon

Noelle: "A-a-a-a-are y-y-you s-sure??"

SHE IS SWEATIN

You: "🤨🤨??"

*Lumine finally notices why theyre all quiet and kinda concerned looking, bc u sure as hell wouldnt 😭 (i mean it is normal speech for u)

And Lumine's like: "No Noelle we're all good! It's just how Your Grace's home world, er, speaks for slang? Its overexagerated purposely dont worry love"

...

*Im sure they dont all believe her (or even you if u tell them 😭) and are just like,, REALLY NERVOUS CHUCKLING WHILE LIKE SWEATING-

And it takes a good like 10 minutes for the conversations to start getting back to their volume again, and they all still are looking over their shoulder checking on you guys 😰

(U did pour drinks w/o spillin tho🍻)

♡

THE TEXTING SLANNGGG

Ok, but u and Lumine would fucking write letters to people, and being the little shits pranksters u are,

(Bc u kno Teyvat dont got nothing else bc we're in the medival ages, besides having cameras- 🙄 )

And u guys r constantly-

"oh yes yes, that sounds all well and good Keqing, please inform the Qixing that I'll be there ASAP"

AND THEN-

"oh haha, silly me, i forgot that only Lumine/you get that stuff, sorryyyy 😋!!!"

SOME PUBLIC MENACES LMFAO PLEASE

And it just spreads to ALLLL the official documents u write or literally any letters sent to anybody-

And everyone else is feeling like the friend that got sacrificed to walk in the grass instead of the sidewalk 💀💀

While also being like "??¿?¿??? 🥲🥲😀😀???"

Is this ancient code?? Why does Lumine get to know it??

Why dont the like??? really old deities understand it??!!

But then nerds like Tighnari, Albedo, Alhaitham, Zhongli, Sucrose, Ayaka, Kokomi, Xingqiu, Childe, Yanfei, Shenhe, Kazhua, Sara, Ayato, Heizou, Cyno, Kaeya

Try to "solve" the letters or slang, poor things and not a single one of them gets it (y did u do this to them lmao)

(God i finally looked at a character list so i wouldnt leave anyone out, but theres so many of these fucks by now help)

^^^But all these ppl try to solve it in different ways/for different reasons that im too lazy to type out individually, u can see it right??

Some see this as an ancient scholarly code thing, some of them think of it like a rlly hard puzzle, and some just rlly want to put the mental effort into knowing/not being left out 😭😭

And if anybody happens to see some letter exchanges w/ Lumine or like any written responses, you do not. stop. using. text slang. back to back.

(Like what u put in the ask💀)

And its so miserable for those characters mentioned especially, bc they look like scrambled letters 😭

Honestly them seeing u two talk to each other via letters just proves that the letters even mean anything at all to them, bc how did u understand each other, otherwise???!!

(No one would ever realize u guys were fucking around unless u told them 💀)

✨️Sorry✨️this✨️isnt✨️that✨️great✨️i✨️just✨️wanted✨️ to✨️ expand✨️ on✨️ what ✨️u ✨️already ✨️had ✨️nothing ✨️new✨️ 🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

I felt feral and out of it when i wrote this, i literally dont remember a single word i typed on that bullet list..

SO i still have asks/requests im gonna answer but i will be posting my follower event poll!! CLICK ME :) ♡

Yall get to choose what i write about for some posts :D

(You can be a new follower!)

✨️

BTW

UR SO BIG BRAIN SMART 2ND RANDOM U EVEN THOUGHT ABT TEYVATIAN LETTERS GETTING INCLUDED ADHJSLALASLL

WHAT A GENIUS

I hope my shit writing was somewhat ok of a reply to read to pay u back for that great idea lol

Cheers,

🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡the beloveds

@karmawonders

#2nd random u just wanna be a public menace i stg #gen z slang/phrases r so dramatic #genshin impact #ask box open #my asks #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin imagines #genshin sagau ideas #gender neutral reader #please send asks #genshin scenarios #genshin god reader #genshin isekai #genshin noelle #noelle x reader

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aihaitahm · 1 year

Text

jingyuan with hyrid cat gn! reader

cw reader has trust issues and overthinks.

idk why this didnt appear in the hashtag earlier for no goddamn reason </3 algorithm sucks :(

part 1

“i… like you… a lot!”

“hmm? sorry i didnt get that. could you repeat yourself once more?” the snoozing general teased, as he stares at you, eyes filled with mischief yet with affection. enjoying the small distance between you both, brushing his gloved hand on your cheek. curious enough to touch your ears but of course he didnt have the permission. yet.

“well listen carefully yea? i said i… i like you a lot and i hate how… my tail swings when i get excited to report to you or when my ears perk whenever you call out my name or whenever i see you in a poster or hear someone mention your name. no matter how much i avoid you, you somehow always catch me and i dont know if you… feel the same if you’re just teasing me or if you actually like me.”

jing yuan’s eyes soften. he wasnt sure what made him like you but for sure, he knew you are different, you are you and thats how he started liking you. he starts looking into your widen eyes and just lovingly stares at you. eyes are windows to the soul after all. he loves how you do things, how dedicated you are to everyone around you. he loves your style, how you present yourself, how hardworking you are for xianzhou luofu and especially to master diviner fu xuan.

“(name) i like you because i actually really like you. the moment i saw you, i instantly was intrigued, of course may be it was because you were a hybrid cat and i happen to be a cat person but it is more than that dear. the more we interacted, the more i became continuously surprise on how much i can keep liking you deeper. eventually i started admiring you for… you. these feelings that i hold are only for you, that is if you accept them. have i mentioned that the heaven’s really blessed me to see someone as ethereal as you breathe the same air as me?”

your eyes soften as his confession, quite flustered. ears now relaxed, and tail swinging. you held onto his neck, tiptoeing because this man is literally a giant. no matter how tall you were, he could still tower you.

“i…. accept.” you muttered quietly, fiddling on his collar.

jing yuan smiled. he was about to let go until he was grabbed by the face. he certainly was not expecting you cupping his face and kissing him in the lips. he gladly reciprocated and indulged your beautiful taste.

—

headcanons ! :3

after you both madeout confessed, you both sat quietly, enjoying each others company. tingyun heard the whole thing and was so happy for the both of you.

you would still call him general and keep things professional during the day. even though he insists on you calling him that, you were scared what people would think when you both are dating.

jing yuan reassures you that things will be okay and that he honestly does not care about what others think about. he wants to be seen with you, and he wants them to know that you are his. at the end of the day, you both do your jobs diligently and fairly even though you both are in a relationship.

when the master diviner fu xuan heard about your relationship, she was happy for you though she gave jing yuan a huge talk.

“i swear… jing yuan if you do something to my beloved assistant you will feel my wrath. you better treat them well! they deserve the world. they are dear to me like family. also by the way, you cant always have them assist you during work.”

“you better not steal my assistant and let them help you with all your neglected work. do your own work and dont sleep. not only did you steal my title as general, you are not about to steal my number one assistant.”

notices you get nervous a lot so he settles with light headpats, and hand holding. he will wait for you to initiate and he will ask you what you are okay/not okay with. just to make sure he doesnt make you uncomfortable.

as you slowly got closer, you started being clingy with him and being super gentle with him. he was glad he got that side of you. you would get greedy and ask for his attention. would swing your tail and poke him with it when you want attention. you love headpats and absolutely melt when he pets you. you both can get sassy at each other and would often tease each other. playful remarks until you get flustered and hide your face behind your hands as the general chuckles.

jing yuan knows you are a worried lover and would encourage you to communicate your feelings properly so that he can reassure his darling. if any miscommunication or arguments occur, you both make sure to talk it out. if your jealous because of one his fans talked to him, he would quickly reassure you and say he has his eyes on you only.

loves when mimi and you get along. his favorite cat and their cat parent favorite cats!getting along together makes him feel soft in the inside.

loves to tease you sometimes by playing with your cat ears or tail. when you get slightly annoyed, he just kisses you on the lips and muffles a ‘sorry’ knowing damn well he isnt.

you have met yanqing before and you helped him in one of your commissions. he admired how you fought and would want you to teach him some of your techniques. jing yuan felt himself melt whenever he sees how you gently talk and coach the boy.

overall the general is so happy and thankful to have you. you both are very happy with each other and xianzhou luofu noticed the new cheerful glow on the general’s energy and face, ever since you both got together.

#hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan hsr #jing yuan honkai #honkai star rail #jing yuan fluff

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aspd-culture · 7 months

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dunno if this is allowed, u dont have to answer if you don't want to but as someone with bpd I'm curious, how do people with aspd often see them?

So I can only offer my anecdotal answer to this, but I've had very polarized responses to people with BPD. Anything I say about how my ASPD affects the person with BPD I'm speaking of has been directly told to me by that person, so I am not just assuming.

On the one hand, my partner has BPD and it makes our relationship much more functional on my end than it would with me being with someone without it. That's because my *very* limited empathy that comes with him being an Exception pairs very well with the more intense emotions a pwBPD feels. Since my empathy is limited, I am not overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions the way his exes often were. And, since his emotions are so intense, I can actually pick up on many of those emotions even with the blunted empathy. They're quiet pings on my radar, but they're there.

Further, my desire to only be around an extremely limited number of people saves him a lot of grief because his favorite person is *very* rarely interested in talking to anyone but him and a couple other close friends. The more limited the pool of people I have deep and meaningful relationships with, the less threatened he feels with me being his favorite person. Whilst he couldn't and wouldn't push someone to barely talk to anyone but him as that would be extremely abusive, me wanting to limit my interactions with people helps ease that anxiety a lot. It very much limits how much he worries that I will abandon him for someone else.

Meanwhile, the intensity of his attachment to me, while annoying during a flare, is actually something I enjoy. It's good for the ASPD unstable self-worth to know he values me that highly, and being his FP helps my brain accept that he genuinely does value me and is not using me, because I know the "hidden motivation" for him wanting me around that my ASPD convinces me everyone has. It's also one of the most stable attachments to me that anyone has had, mainly because I have very little time to detach since we do spend so much time together. Besides with my alters, it's the closest to normal love I've ever felt.

However, for non-Exceptions, I can get *very* annoyed by the emotional reactions of pwBPD if they affect me. I already am exhausted by the emotional labor of dealing with prosocials, what with their emotions overtaking their logic, but that is even more exacerbated by pwBPD. It's not their fault, and I know that, but I do have trouble being around pwBPD who are not an Exception because of this without setting firm boundaries on what I can and can't help them with. If they need me to just listen to their upset without trying to help them solve the problem, I cannot help with that. However, if they are too overwhelmed by their reaction to find solutions and want me to insert a logical and entirely non-emotional perspective, I am great at that and it makes me feel useful for something that mostly makes people call me shallow and cold.

Even for my Exceptions though, there are definitely issues between a pwBPD and a pwASPD. BPD splits can *really* flare my symptoms - both the "positive" and "negative" splits. When it's the type of split where he gets hyper-attached and needs a lot of attention out of nowhere, I can get tired easily with this, especially because just saying (and meaning) that I'm not going to leave is not good enough. It makes me want to interact less when he is obsessively trying to interact more. The types of splits where a pwBPD pushes someone away to avoid being left can be especially problematic for both people involved, as very often the pwASPD will essentially go "okay, bye then" and detach. That can be a lot for pwBPD to deal with, even though we're sometimes willing to go back on that. I have to stop myself when my partner gets in that kind of split to keep from "calling his bluff" so to speak, because that will worsen things for him.

In both romantic and platonic relationships, pwBPD and pwASPD can end up very toxic for each other, as some pwBPD will follow pwASPD into destructive situations and with our issues with regard for others' wellbeing, we may not always stop you. In fact, sometimes it's proof to us that you actually DO care about us, which, of course, is messed up for everyone involved.

That said, the more destructive behaviors pwBPD sometimes struggle with are VERY unlikely to surprise or scare a pwASPD. "Oh, you got freaked out and threw something, but you didn't throw it at me or break anything of mine? Ok, cool. What a mood. No, why tf would I leave you over that? I did that like 2 days ago. You're chill now right? Ok let's go get Taco Bell." From what my partner has told me, this can (and has) stop an episode in it's tracks because when the destructive behavior that is meant to push me away doesn't even make me blink twice and I'm still entirely cool with him, it sometimes completely reassures him that I'm not going anywhere and we can move on.

It can go either or both ways, depending on the day, on how a pwASPD and a pwBPD in close relationships of any type will interact, but generally I prefer pwBPD over other prosocials because most of what pwBPD do and say makes sense to me - even the irrational things are done out of a fear of or response to being abandoned, and handling that poorly is something I entirely understand and relate to. Anecdotally, my current partner and my most recent ex (both of whom have BPD) also said that they far, far preferred pwASPD to prosocials because of how we sometimes stablize their fear of being abandoned. I was one of the only people they ever believed when they asked if they were leaving and I said "why and where tf would I go anyway".

Again, this is VERY personal and anecdotal, but I've seen asks in the askbox before that said some similar stuff, so I'm sure I'm not the only one who relates to at least some of this.

Plain text below the cut:

Again, this is VERY personal and anecdotal, but I've seen asks in the askbox before that said some similar stuff, so I'm sure I'm not the only one who relates to at least some of this.

#aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #bpd #actually aspd #aspd #aspd awareness #actually antisocial #antisocial personality disorder #aspd traits #anons welcome

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johannwolfgangvongoethe · 8 months

Text

Some Personal Thoughts on Disability in Enstars

disclaimer: disability is a very broad term that covers many different experiences. i will be talking about physical disabilities since i feel most comfortable doing so/have experience with them. obviously that ignores a Huge part of what disability and chronical illness is and can be. but i think it is beyond my capabilities to talk about experiences i don't know much about.

alt caption: i think ritsu is a good character and im trying to explain to myself why

this is sort of a long post, sorry.

content warnings: i talk about ableism and touch on related topics such as dehumanization and objectification and such below. individual parts of this post have their own cw's.

Enstars Writing, Beloathed

to get this out of the way; it is bad sometimes. this is discussed very often. it doesnt depend on the authors either, in my opinion, some writers will hit you with something really troublesome only to (seemingly accidentally) invent human emotion and compassion in a different story. i dont want to repeat what others have said eloquently but there is a fair amount of imperialist worldviews, xenophobia, just racism really, transphobia, ableism, and copaganda to be found in enstars. this isnt about x character being x thing, but about how it is very noticable when the author of a story holds these worldviews and they bleed into their stories.

so that is not the greatest foundation if youre looking for well-written disabilities. but i wouldnt be reading enstars if i didnt think it genuinely is really really good sometimes. in my opinion, the way disabilities are portrayed is a mixed bag overall but there are some extremely worthwhile bits that touched me quite a lot.

What I personally understand as Well-Written Disability

the way disabled people suffer often goes unnoticed, and disabled people dont have a platform to talk about oppression. a lot of life-changing issues can go unnoticed to those unnaffected by them, even if they are in broad daylight: underfounded or entirely lacking healthcare, the way many healthcare systems are marketbased and ethics are prone to suffer bc of this (even under 'welfare' capitalism), a lack of equal marriage, the inaccessibility of the most basic and necessary facilities, financing care and the dependency on family/loved ones (both a logistical and psychological problem), the huge stigma against disabled people, etc, etc, you get me....

we need to write about people who need care, to keep them in mind at all times. disabled people are not a minority in a mathematical sense but in a hierarchical sense. it is naive to think of them as "a substancial percentage" of populations. as we age, we inevitably all enter the stage of needing care at some point. SO to an extend, i want to claim its a topic that affects every single person. yet disabled people are rarely a central topic anywhere. it is not enough to acknowledge them, we need to plan and think with them in mind. and Write with them in mind, i guess.

SO when i see fiction grapple the topic, i am usually really happy, even if the portrayal isnt ideal. (critical, maybe, but generally speaking very happy) pointing out "badly" written disabled characters is obviously not as easy as calling someone out for uncritically saying "i think eugenics are a good idea!!!" through fiction. people with that sort of facist mindset exist of course but ableism does not end there.

if i were to single out things i see often: i think the most disappointing thing a story can do is to - mention a disability without it ever having an impact on people in the story (-> the disability is basically nonexistent, has no impact or relevance, outside of a theoretical mention) OR - uncritically use a disabled character as a mere plot devise, without granting them the ability to speak (-> dehumanization, a lack of understanding that disabled people are, well, People. they do shit.)

and then of course there is fetishization, both in a literal sense and in an inspiration porn sense and the problem of turning disability into a caricature for jokes (either to other disabled people for their behaviour/body or to create a sense of satisfying superiority by laughing at them) but i feel like those problems explain themselves.

to apply these to very basic examples: i think often something like a robotic sci-fi prosthetic is not a good way to represent a disability because it fails to represent what people go through irl and provides a "magic fix" without repercussions. here is a really good post about it. about the plot device issue... i think it is similar to what people often criticise as "manpain". a disabled person will never appear or speak, they are demoted to being the reason an able-bodied character acts a certain way, like a lifeless accessory. this doesnt always have to be bad, esp if its just a sideplot! but it can get tiring if the audience never gets to learn about other aspects of the unseen character in question and we are only introduced to their suffering.

all of this to talk about gacha idol boys. it is how it is. anyway, this is roughly my mental state when i tackle enstars.

disclaimer 2: i am really just a kogaP. this influences which characters i encounter when reading. there are tons of stories i just never looked at and there is SO MUCh lore i just dont know about. please lemme know if you have additions to stuff i say/understand a character better/have related story recommendations! tl;dr the sakuma bit will be long.

disclaimer 3: i genuinely adore every single character mentioned below and am always excited to learn smth new about them. if i criticize writing, that has nothing to do with that character or their fans. it is about the writers.

the most obvious example. Eichi (content warning for brief mentions of self harm and suicidal ideation)

everything eichi does, he does with the knowledge he will most likely die young. that is a truly dramatic setup.

but before i get back to that thought. it always felt to me like eichis illness(/es) lack a certain sense of conciseness? i do not think you need to put a name and diagnosis on it for it to be relatable and real to readers, tbh!! though to achieve believability, there needs to be a good amount of consistency. what i can recall off the top of my head is the following:

he breaks down/straight up blacks out frequently due to weakness and dizzyness

measures were taken to secure his safety in those situations (the infamous Eichi-kun Gauge as seen in Element)

his stamina is seriously low

he coughs a lot

we saw him cough up blood (Daydream)

he relies on long hospital stays because his health needs to be monitored and/or supported this closely

he stays inside a lot (hinting towards problems with his immune system?)

being healthy enough to eat unhealthy food is a big deal to him, so there are dietary restrictions/it was necessary to precisely control what he eats

his grandfather, who died recently, is considered an outlier for how long he lived (so it IS hereditary)

which..... could be a lot of things...? or, more likely: a culmination of many things at once. if you have headcanons on eichis health, please lemme know!

but in addition to eichis terminal illness, there is a second quality to him that seperates him from most disabled people: he is extremely wealthy. and his wealth is fundamentally important to stories. usually illness and poverty go hand in hand, since incame is tied to the ability to work, which worsens an already bad situation. no matter how limited eichis actions are because of his body, the possibilties offered by his wealth make him a central figure in every overarching plot. in addition to this, his family is well aware of his consitution and he is a patriarchal leading figure to them, the head to their coporate hierachy. eichi is free of the things that usually rid the chronically ill of their safety and power: society (he is an idol and popular) and money (he is the richest boy in japan). if youd ask me, i think that while being chronically ill is of course physically taxing, the worse problem is the economic state it puts you in. eichi simply overcomes this? yes, he is terminally ill, his situation is terrifying. but he has an extraordinary amount of control while he lives. more than a poor yet able-bodied person may have.

his unique circumstances enable him to be incredibly active. this is so fun to read about in my opinion. its a fascinating setup to me. without casting any sort of moral judgement on his actions and the antagonistic role he plays; he is, excuse me for my phrasing here, a disabled power fantasy. (at least to me)

this is a double-edged sword to him. because of who he is as a person (ambitious, cunning, ruthless, diligent)

he lives in relative safety but his strong ambition and financial ability to fulfill his dreams tempt him to go past his limits. because his remaining lifetime is uncertain, the need to preserve the body he is given seems uneconomical (a mindset his upbringing and education as an heir to his family would have enforced imo) he is bound to break down sooner or later anyway. i think he begins to see himself and his body as a tool to achieve his goals and neglects spending time on anything BUT working towards them. so the moment he runs out of goals (like at the end of Element), his reason to "remain" becomes futile.

it really struck with me how he appears in Blackbird - emaciated, pathetic, purposefully neglected because he chose to be neglected and weak in an act of self harm bc denying medical attention (something that couldnt have happened otherwise) wataru has to remind him that no one died and the obvious connection to make is that the eccentrics are physically unharmed and starting over, that they should not be a source of guilt to eichi. but i think this is just as much about eichi himself. he might have expected to die since he left the hospital and overexhausted himself at school and as an idol. he didnt die though. it was a real possibility and seemed likely but he didnt. the neglect and indirect self harm here point out, to me, that he saw the "role" he gave himself as fulfilled at that point and waited to die.

eichi stands over economic or social factors that could ostracize and dehumanize him but funnily enough he manages to do so himself by treating his body as a tool and his happiness as an option that got overshadowed by a need to succeed.

this vulnerability makes him, despite how vague the descriptions of his illness are and despite how unrelatable his wealth is, a very satisfying character imo. it is engaging to me. certain limits are removed for him but he created new ones, specifically because he did not see himself as something worth sustaining once he becomes useless. imo, eichi applied the idea that a lifes worth can be measured in its ability to function in an industry to himself. and spiralled over it, entirely inverting his uncanny amount of bodily autonomy. it is clear how the situation he is in worsens his mental health like that. and how his mental health in turn worsens his physical health. it is inseperable.

i cant really get into !! era eichi because i genuinely just dont... know enough. the fine tradition of having a weekly H-Day stands out, though. after all, eichi has new bigger ambitions and is, once again, inviting his own ruin through overexhaustion. so his friends (the new addition of having friends is essential) had to forcefully make him stop for at least one day a week. that is pretty big. i think.

this is true for many marginalized existences so it of course applies to disabled people: if neither your surroundings nor yourself permit you to feel human and therefore assign your person an inherent worth and lovability... sometimes you need a friend to do so!!! social circles are the best support structure for your health.

The Sakuma Family

(i will get into ritsu and rei seperately later on. there are just a few concepts i want to get out of the way that apply to both of them.)

so... to get a little theoretical; the concept of "disability" relies on the concept of a "normative" human existence. "disability" is an otherness and can therefore easily be seen as a "monstrocity" in the eyes of ignorant people, something that instils fear. (there is a reason why a lot of horror exploits disabled bodies as a source of terror and uses mental hospitals as settings) from an able-bodied point of view it seems "desirable" to be a "normative human", yet the disabled person knows that is not a possibility and knows their worth and place as a human in human spaces. at least ideally. able-bodied people sometimes lack this understanding. there is nothing to be desired about an able body or fixed about a disabled body, beyond what medical care can do for ones quality of life.

if you have read operetta, this is all very familiar;

operetta, chapter 17 and, well, here we are. vampires. a very basic truth about the sakuma family that i hate to see denied is that they are human. there is nothing supernatural about them. they are just disabled. or, to turn the idea around, if one was to assign them vampiristic traits and such... is vampirism not a disability and should be taken seriously as such? if you consider the limits a vampire has while coordinating through their life, is that not... strangely just a disabled experience? (MINUS THE KILLING PEOPLE OBVIOUSLY but much modern fiction is sympathetic towards vampires instead and does not display them as violent)

anyway, to hear it from the horses mouth (the horse is rei):

operetta, chapter 19 the sakuma family is a curious case. their condition is hereditary though the severity varies from person to person. it comes up in many stories but for the most part i am thinking about operetta, resurrection sunday, and devils right now. how did this all start? what made an entire family turn to live as vampires, with blood ceremonies and all that? what bizarre kind of generational trauma is this?

(and, while it does not play a role as important as it did for eichi, they are rich. this is important to mention. many normal experiences just dont apply to them because wealth makes them immune. ... how did the sakumas become this influential anyway.)

for an unspecified but long time, an entire family managed to mentally entirely seperate themselves from the rest of humanity because of their chronical illness. personally, i have no doubt this is the result of a world that othered them first. whether the main motivator at play here is a defensiveness towards a society that cannot understand you or an internal need to turn hardships into an identity that can be carried with pride. it takes a considerable amount of emotional strength and planning for the "hey we are human actually" declaration in operetta to occur.

they are, weirdly, what people mean when they talk about a "toxic anti-recovery mindset". (an expression i struggle with because this sort of rhetoric is often used to discriminate against disabled people who speak up for themselves or ask for accomodations. but that aside) it is an amount of pride that leads to internal self destruction.

of course, as is the case with every single character i write about in this post, a lot of it has to do with aesthetics and being chuuni to sell gacha cards. so we know the reason behind the reason. but it makes for some bizarre in-universe implications.

but in any case, the fact that their identity as false vampires is something they have always carried, that modern society sees as "mystical and sexy" has a hilarious side effect: their disability becomes marketable under the guise of vampirism. it is hard to recover from that.

so again, we have a double-edged sword: to present ones medical condition as a "persona" declares it as a performative act, something that is done to bring joy to an audience. personal detriment is not considered here, since it stops being a part of ones being and starts to become "work". the time and place of ones symptoms has to overlap with the time and place of ones performances. or people will hate you for your uncontrollable illness. however, rei and ritsu are both also able to carry their condition with a sort of playfulness. it is almost something like the act of "reclaiming" when they purposefully choose to larp a little for fun. usually, when a scene mentions their disability in the context of comic relief, they have control over the situation that unfolds and even initiate it and invite others to laugh alongside them. this can be a slippery slope to getting harrassed of course.... but i am rather baffled by the amount of dominance they have in social interactions. so it just reads as a healthy amount of dark humour to me.

this, and the consistent writing of their symptoms, and the ability to easily compare it to real existing illnesses, easly make them my favourite instance of written disabled people in the series. their illness has an impact on their behaviour and it is detrimental! and they are both very human in the way they attempt to cope. there is a certain realism to it. idek.

many people seem to headcanon them with myalgic encephalomyelitis, which is a really good explanation, and i personally want to suggest narcolepsy. the point being, there is room to accurately assign them a realistic relatable and understandable condition, even if nothing is ever named in canon. and of course they are mentioned to have an iron deficiency.

bear with this slightly "out there" theory for a moment: have you or a friend ever tried to get a compensation for your disadvantage at school or uni? it can be really hard to do, if it is possible at all, even if it is something very simple (more time, a slightly different enviroment, the ability to drink or sit, etc) yumenosaki is a school for performance arts, mainly idols. bold statement: it might genuinely be easier to get/explain an accommondation for your "idol quirk" (something that would be actively fostered), than for your disability. not that yumenosaki is very strict or asks for a lot anyway, its just something that has been on my mind.

here is another funny thing i have been thinking about: both of them crave juice, soda, and fruit - sugary yet fresh stuff. i feel like this is not uncommon for people who suffer from excessive tiredness and fatigue, the body subconsciously wishes for some sugar intake to "wake up".

Inventing a Guy to Cope. Rei

funny title aside... he... did that... ? rei is a curious example of how different mostly unrelated traumas can overlap. he had no childhood, thanks to his family that considered him "mature" at a very young age and his early status as a child star. and his bad health is a miserable addition to this. it is quite scary to image how pressured to do right he felt growing up and how that resulted in the fragmented distanced way he views himself; reinventable, and ultimately unknowable. (to others AND himself)

despite his bad health he has always been working and performing "well". he was praised for his remarkable talents but rarely had the chance to stop and patch himself up. whether this was a result of a pushy enviroment or his personality as a people pleaser who cannot show weakness and imperfection is hard to tell. maybe both.

the state he is in in Crossroad is fascinating to me. he all but directly lists the criteria of depression to keito when he attempts to explain his sorrows. he is restless, rowdy, mentions later on that he enrolled in yumenosaki against his familys wishes. he is very much searching for joy and his own identity in the middle of a health emergency. this has to do with the way he was raised, only knowing how to exist for and serve others, how he was made to sell a made-up version of himself, but i also believe it has to do with the fact he has started to exclude himself from his familys traditions and values. he started to cast away the uncertain "monstrosity" existence of his family (as well as the false idolhood others assigned him) and instead embraces humanity as a chronically ill person.

crossroad, i forgor which chapters

this of course marks a starting point of change that later results in him making up the wagahai pronouns persona - something he specifically created with the intention of looking vulnerable and weak. because he yearned to do less, to recover from years of exhaustion.

in a way, i want to say both, the ore pronouns persona and the wagahai pronouns persona, are attempts to cope with expectations he cannot handle physically or mentally. one relies on masking, on appearing stronger than he actually is and therefore invulnerable, and the other relies on exaggerating his weakness, in an attempt to finally let others recognize it. i think as a disabled person, both are performances one has to learn in order to "function" in everyday life, while remaining safe from serious harm (doing badly at ones job or classes, angering others that hold power over your life). since ones circumstances are often hard to grasp for someone who does not share the same illness, there is no choice but to simplify and exaggerate until symptoms become tangible concepts or to just brave through it, at the cost of ones health and future time.

rei in particular, for better or for worse, is incredibly capable when he needs to be and unfortunately that means others will often not take his health seriously because they saw him function just fine the other day. this is a general problem but an obvious offender in that regard is koga, who comments on reis fatigue constantly and loves to create a bit of a high expectations toxic work enviroment (and, to be fair, rei terrorizes him too. kogas hostility towards rei is sometimes ableist but not really rooted in ableism. after all koga is highly aware how performative the wagahai persona can be and is a huge motivational and inspirational factor in reis life. its a whole complex)

!! era holds some positive changes. his mental need to please other people remains a persistent source of trouble for him (and others) but he seems to really let his body recover and lives a more nocturnal life. both kuro and kaoru mention that he looks more healthy (in succession match???? i think??) since he finally stopped enforcing a normal day/night cycle on his body just to comply with social norms. you can indeed be very human even if you break human-made rules.

(additional comment: "becoming human" is of course a theme for each of the eccentrics and not uniquely tied to disability, it very much has to do with the objectification one goes through as a public figure. but this is a post about disability and it really fits in well. so here we go)

Literally Just a Realistic Teenager. Ritsu

ritsu, while not really being among my favourite characters, is my favourite instance of a disabled character in enstars. partly because of his writing and partly because my personal experiences overlap with his so much it sometimes is painful - but always extremely satisfying. just had to get that out.

ritsu is perhaps the most visibly ill. he blacks out and sleeps where he stands, everywhere, without control and often requires other peoples (well, mostly maos) assistance in order to remain safe when this happens. he also repeated a year of school, specifically because of his disability.

he is painfully aware of this. that he looks ill, that he behaves ill, that he is an underachiever compared to others of the same age, even to people younger than him.

ritsu developed unique behaviours to deal with this: he is very dependent and clingy and often asks others to do things for him, unapologetically. that does not mean asking for help doesnt hurt his pride, just that it is the most viable strategy for everyday survival that he ended up with. other than that, he clings more to the vampire identity than rei does. either to defy his older brother or, and this is important imo, because it is the one safety net he has to fall back on that makes him feel "normal" and like he is a regular being. albeit not human. no matter how much others might blame him for his shortcomings or how much he is a failure in the eyes of society, he is very regular for a "vampire". under the logic developed by his family, he is just a child, and the world at large is to blame. it is an easier truth to accept than facing systematic injustice and prejudice in a human world.

the stories i mentioned in another part above aside, i really love what ensemble band does for him; ritsu gets extremely irritated with mao in the prologue, seemingly out of nowhere. his character is allowed to express this sort of anger and to take it out on others, even if it is unjust and misguided. it is not pretty and it isnt good behaviour but it is a very heartfelt emotion to me.

its obvious that he cannot compete with others and that this will always been seen as his personal fault instead of a circumstance he cannot influence. and more than that: no one appreciates the real efforts he makes. for instance, getting himself out of bed in time for classes is difficult for regular teenagers and straight up hellish for ritsu. but he manages to do so a lot later on. instead of acknowledging that this is a real accomplishment on his part and possibly really exhausting and bad for his comfort in the long run, this is seen as doing the bare minimum.

while it is not correct, the malice ritsu sometimes treats others with comes from an comprehensible place. able-bodied ignorance can appear as purposeful slights made by those more privileged than him.

yet he learns to conform. his friends are important to him. knights success is important to him. (thought mental health probably played a role here too and made things even harder prior to his third year of high school) and yet;

seven bridge, chapter 24, but its really just an example i had at hand

the remarks stay the same. his peers still cannot help but brand him as "just lazy", even if they are kind and understanding otherwise and habour no ill intent. so i would like to ask: how long can he keep this up? how hard is this on him?

i dont think i need to explain just how common and hurtful it is to be accused of "laziness". probably the single most irritating comment someone with fatigue will hear every single day.

however, on the flipside, ritsu has perhaps the most people who care for him in comparison with other characters, though they sometimes complain (communication is hard, care is hard, everyone in enstars is very young and i cannot bring myself to see those comments as malice. its a mixture of ignorance and ones own burdens) there is mao, obviously. tsumugi is a very funny example. knights, of course, in particular naru. (at least based on my humble knights readings)

quite interesting how he just decided mao is his caretaker, now and in the future. i shared a few of my thoughts on caretaking here. this is.... a huge responsibility to just put on someones shoulders, to say the least. he shouldnt be doing this but i think it speaks for itself that this is a problem that is on his mind. ITS IS A REALLY IMPORTANT TOPIC TO BRING UP, especially since, the younger you are, the harder it is to get insurance to pay for your care. yes, he is often just teasing mao, but ritsu is looking for ways to get through life. by learning to be as independent as possible, whenever possible. though often you really just find yourself at the mercy of friends and family.

Inter-Sibling Violence

apologies, i will be done with the sakumas soon. i didnt know how to fit this in at the start.

the relationship between rei and ritsu, as people with the same disability who experiences different symptoms and challenges, is worth thinking about. infighting within people of the same disability is very common since experiences can be so different, there are no universal truths or opinions. with different lifestyles come different expectations for what is "normal" and sometimes pressure and social norms can cause someone to shift blame onto others who have no achieved the same things in life.

rei and ritsu are said to have been very close as small children and likely depended on each other a lot. i can see how reis fostering nature and ritsus needy nature developed alongside each other and enforced each other.

time and time again, rei says that he is a "less severe" case, that ritsu has it worse. he jets around the world because he feels forced to do so, when ritsu just wanted emotional support from him to begin with. ritsu stayed alone at home, sheltered and likely caged by their families convictions. but! i want to suggest the following: as much as it hurt him, it was important for reis health to be away from his family, too. i dont think staying there would have been good for him. his absence and the experiences he made away from home were an important catalyst for the positive family development we see in operetta.

of course, rei means well. he cares. he is trying to have a positive impact. yet from ritsus point of view, all of this must feel terribly condescending, especially with how much rei babies him. there is just one year between them. this is barely anything when it comes to sibling inferiority complexes the brain can make up. rei, who is successful and famous and beloved and, most importantly, proclaims to have it "easier than him", is trying to find a cure for him. from ritsus point of view this must be unbearable. their lives are so different when they basically started at the very same point of origin.

more than that, rei shoulders the sketchy blood rituals himself, out of love of course, but if one was more jaded, one could assume he doesnt think ritsu would be able to stomach the responsibility.

you will always compare yourself to your siblings in unhealthy ways but ritsu is just doing this on hard mode, i fear.

HHHRAGAHHHH GHHH ghgghrhgh. Niki

nikis writing is... driving me up a wall sometimes, to say the least. dont get me wrong, i love him. to an extend i understand that his single-mindedness and shallowless has purpose to it. in fact, i adore these character traits. he really seems to be behind four mental barriers at all times, unable to let deeper thoughts touch him, lest they make him succumb to despair. (yet nikis specific flavour of menhera cannot quite shine since... well, he has to stand next to himeru all the time)

the descriptions we get of nikis illness are nonsensical, at least to my knowledge. you could imagine he has something like hyperthyroidism. this never really gets explored though. at some point ENGstars mentions he has "gastroptosis or whatever" (the "or whatever" is part of his dialogue - niki really doesnt give a fuck), which makes no sense at all. weirdly enough, it would even be strangely in character if this was just a misconception.

so, can anyone take niki to a doctor? has this happened and i just wasnt there for it? there is no excuse why no one is considering medical care when it comes to him. except that he often is the butt monkey of jokes the writers want to make and has to stay available for it. more than that; his parents just left him alone like this? as a child? did he get an allowance at least? this cannot be legal, right? i wait for the day this comes up as a topic but i fear it is in vain. (please tell me if it actually did. i dont follow niki that closely) this is an unbelievable thing to do to a healthy child, yet alone one with a severe illness. we are basically looking at denial of assistance.

so many things surrounding nikis story are designed to make him as miserable as possible. i cannot help but feel that he exists purely as comic relief, for funny bickering, and superficial drama. i dont really like that at all, his misery just gets exploited.

EVEN SO... his self-image is actually really fascinating. as rinne likes to point out again and again, niki has no self-worth. he works two jobs, one of which he hates, he constantly gets into dangerous situations, and he will do anything just for some crumbs, and quickly forgets when others treat him badly. and of course, the worst bit:

es!! main story, please dont make me go find it

to some degree, he just accepts this as something he deserves. there is no consideration for his own quality of life, somewhere along the lines it seems like he got conviced just surviving is all he gets. he internalized self-degredation to a dangerous degree and i never see anyone mention this mental affliction specifically as a comorbidity of his disability. to me, there is without a doubt a relation here. sure, maybe he would still fight with this otherwise, just because he had to witness his fathers fall from grace as a child and knows there is a stigma attached to his name now. but i think you can tell it is more than that, from the way he is ashamed to beg (even in a life or death scenario, as seen in hot limit), as if his condition was his own fault.

this circles back to the point i made earlier for eichi; how much nikis life is worth, is measured in his economical value.

of the characters i have spoken of so far, nikis is financially the most accurate to real life. there is no safety net for him, no convenient family wealth.

(at this point it feels important to mention that somehow rinne manages to be the only person entirely aware of the danger and desires to change nikis mindset, YET he is a huge strain on nikis health. i dont know how those two function.)

Just a Lamb. Tatsumi

tatsumis specific trauma is a unique one: while most other characters struggle with conditions they were born with or developed as they grew up, tatsumis injury is the result of strain and violence. those are two different pairs of shoes, though the outcome may be similar. whether it is worse to be born into circumstances you cannot escape or to have to live with having something thrust upon you unfairly is up to personal judgement. pain is not really quantifiable. its just important to keep in mind, i think. under the circumstances tatsumi grew up in, he has his own burdens. it is very easy in many ways to compare and contrast him with eichi. of course this applies to how they used their bodies too: as an expandable resource. they had ideals for their school life (and beyond) that just seemed far more important and they both ended up in hospital because of this. (+ we know tatsumis surroundings were purposefully manipulated to destroy him)

and, of course, tatsumi got attacked later on. he never really talks about it directly but his legs seem to talk for him, in ways.

the story does not quite make it clear whether his occasional weakness and pain are the result of old injuries or entirely psychosomantic, and i dont think there is a real need to know, as a reader. in fact, in a certain light, i think it can be considered good that we dont know for certain: it would be relevant for tatsumi himself, sure, since it would influence which kinds of treatments and help he can seek out. however, i think the ambiguity may foster a certain level of sympathy in readers.

often psychosomatic problems are not taken seriously enough in real life: they cannot be proven physically and they dont fit into the neat little boxes that the ICD wants you to believe exist, so they cannot be defined on paper or easily explained to doctors or insurance providers.

to foster empathy with his situation requires his character to be lovable and for the narrative to treat him with care as well. which is thankfully the case. alkaloid are dear with him and, despite the fact he cannot perform in his work enviroment all the time, he is very respected for his other skills. he is a well-rounded person.

all that aside. it is absolutely worth to mention tatsumi pre-injury, too. he came up with a form of small-scale universal income among a semi-union at school. without getting too much into all that. (obbligato really seems like required lecture in the realm of enstars stories) the entire concept strives for social equality and is extremely anti-discrimination. it fundamentally goes against the idea that someone needs to "deserve" care, and is the opposite of the mindset i described with eichi and niki above. he never had to make first-hand experiences with disability to be extremely compassionate. this seems really rare among people in real life, even those who preach altruism.

While we are Here. K.... Kaname

as mentioned, i spoke a little about kaname before. so i wont get into the complex of caregiving.

it is extremely satisfying we got to meet kaname, if only for one event story. he does not have to remain a faceless motivation behind himeru and tatsumis lives, he thankfully became humanized.

the entire conflict around kaname at the moment is a matter of bodily autonomy. how much of your person can be in anothers hand, ethically? there is no excuse for the theft of his (idol) identity through himeru but the damage is done now. ideally, you dont want any part of yourself to depend on others but the disabled reality is that this is very often impossible. especially for kaname. there simply is no one else who could be responsible for him right now and, to be fair, at least when it comes to medical care, himeru seems to behave very responsibly.

repeating what has been said in the other post but i am worried for kanames seemingly inevitable reintroduction to the story. he has been in a comatose state for a year. if he wakes (since this is fiction, it is possible to exchange 'if' for 'when', realistically it really would be an 'if' though) he would most likely be confronted with permanent neurological and physical damage and years of rehabilitation. at least logically. (not to mention the psychological shock) would this be written with compassion and a sense of realism? it makes for a compelling source of conflict and emotional hardships that could be extremely worthwhile to explore. i just cant entirely bring myself to trust the writers with this one but i would love to be convinced otherwise.

that is, of course, if they dont somehow just skip rehabilitation entirely and declare it a miracle healing.....

imo, the in-game discourse between characters is just as important as his future development. i just really hope autonomy and recovery will be large topics.

He doesnt go here, but. Adonis

so bringing him up just really feels necessary within the context of this post because of his interests. one of adonis hobbies is sign language and accessibility.

this is, i think, maybe the best thing they ever did with his "protector" persona. it just fits so well, it is a direct conversion of ideals to actions. knowing undead songs have been translated for a deaf audience in canon is extremely wholesome and uplifting, even if it is entirely inconsequential for the story and just something that gets mentioned.

(now that sandstorm is out on engstars, you can check that out too for further mentions of this! if i could wish for one thing, it would be for the stories to acknowledge that there are tons of independent sign languages and i would love to know which one adonis and rei speak... you ever think about how adonis speaks like four languages fluently. at least.)

nightless city live, chapter 3

everyone in undead loved that and supported the vision. to see koga, who is usually against anything but musical performances and wishes to express art freely, praise the idea really puts deaf identity and accessibility in a great light. it is a very positively radical forwardthinking idea.

so, i just wanted to mention that. adonis is treated horribly by the narrative a lot, it entirely fails to grasp his identity and is insensitive towards foreign cultures, but i would die for him i think.

finishing thoughts

like mentioned, please absolutely let me know if you have different related ideas or recommendations. or corrections, or worries over something i wrote!!! learning and improving is always great. i am sorry i could not get into so many other characters, the ones i wrote about are those that i feel confident enough to comment on. in the future i would love to meet maguro!! i just havent really read any mama stories at all :'''3

i feel like i barely said anything at all and barely engaged with text enough since i didnt get into any character specifically. i would love to write another post about ritsu or rei or both. a draft for it has been sitting around for ages (as did the draft for this post, lol) but i hope someone will find an interesting thought in here somewhere.

all in all, enstars is actually... surprisingly nice to read for the disability in there??? even if it is disappointing in handling many other things. of course, the writings not always ideal (i read hidden beast just the other day and the ableism in there took years off my life) but often its really nice. nothing hits quite like seeing real emotions and experiences through some metaphorical stylized anime lense, you feel.

anyway thank you for listening. i am actually for real done now.

#enstars #ensemble stars #enstarsposting #did i overreact and write too much..... ah... nay......

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beannary · 5 months

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Will we see tlp Donnie in his purple bandanna from the show? I know we have that one post Hamato but I could see that as his walking around the layer look and when he goes out the bandanna to match his sibling. ( convoluted rambling I apologize in advance) I could see some BS like Leo had a purple phase and has a spar bandanna laying around. They have to go into the hidden city for something and BM is frantically searching for Donnie so to not get recognized they dress Donnie up like them and guilt trip people into thinking there was four of them this hole time (Sorry for the ramble when I find new au I fixate on them)

Also before they met Donnie do they know there is another one of them like did splinter tell them and they’re just such idiots they couldn’t put it together. Or is splinter just going to walk in on them and the person that kidnapped and be like “ we need to talk” did splinter just assume Donnie was dead

Will Donnie not being there in they’re childhood affected the dynamic of the remaining three or will it be the same as the show?

Also last question i promise where is April.

Sorry again this was so long I love your au and can’t wait to see more!

omg dont apologize for this I absolutely adore rambles about my au!!!! other people sharing their thoughts and ideas makes me think about things that i normally wouldnt have thought about and also it makes me super happy that people are enjoying my story enough to be thinking about it

ok we will see tlp Donnie in a purple bandana at some point, but it won't be for a long time. The bandanas that Splinter gave his kids are you know like specifically for being ninjas, and are a sign of their growth and progress in their ninjitsu training. At this point in the story, Donnie isn't a ninja, and doesn't have any sort of training in fighting. Once he starts living with the Hamatos he will start doing some ninjitsu training and eventually Splinter will give him a purple bandana, but its not going to be something that he wears like everyday or all the time. Being a ninja isn't a core part of tlp Donnie's identity, so he will wear the bandana but only when he goes out on ninja missions or whatever with his siblings. I love that idea that they go into the hidden city and dress Donnie up like them since that would lead to so many goofy hijinks, but really I think that Donnie is mostly going to avoid going to the Hidden City for any reason, at least until he is has trained enough in ninjitsu to mostly go about unnoticed. I don't think he'd want to go to the Hidden City because 1. that's where his mom is and theres a chance she might try to steal him back, and 2. he grew up in the Hidden City and it isn't as cool and exciting as New York is. I think Donnie would much rather explore this new city that he's living in.

So Raph, Leo, and Mikey are partly not connecting the dots because they haven't seen Donnie's shell at all (since he's wearing a shirt and his shell is flat enough that even if there is a bump it isn't super noticeable) so they haven't even connected the dots that he is a turtle yet. But also this isn't something that Splinter has really talked about a whole lot. I'm going to actually explain how Splinter left Donnie behind in an upcoming scene (or at least hopefully I will be, unless something changes in my planning). Splinter in the show really hasn't explained to his kids how they were like created, and I think the same would apply to tlp Splinter. Escaping from Draxum AND losing one of his kids in the process would have been a really painful memory, and its not like his kids even remember the sibling that he left behind. I think his reasoning was why should I tell them about this sibling that is probably dead and like cause them to feel pain and loss over someone they don't even remember.

Donnie not being in the picture does change the dynamic a bit! I'm not super great at portraying it since I'm also mostly still figuring out how their dynamic is different. One thing I know for sure is that Raph and Splinter took on the responsibility of doing repairs around the lair. So Raph and Splinter are a lot closer mostly because they have spent a lot of time together just trying to figure out how to create a functioning home with electricity and plumbing and heating and stuff. And a lot of their troubles with that mostly come from the fact that they arent able to actually buy the supplies that they need to set up all of their utilities so they are mostly just trying their best with whatever trash they find. I think Leo would have ended up with most of the responsibility of looking after Mikey since Raph would have been busy helping Splinter with taking care of the lair and stuff, so Leo and Mikey are a lot closer to each other than they are with Raph. And I think now that Mikey is older and is starting to do things on his own Leo isn't quite sure what to do with himself since he's so used to just looking after Mikey, and he is trying to give Mikey space and stuff since he doesn't want to be overbearing and whatever but he does tend to hover. That's actually the same with Raph, once Donnie enters the picture, Donnie will just start taking on a lot of Raph's responsibilities because he finds them fun and so Raph will end up with a lot of free time on her hands to just try to figure out what she likes to do and stuff.

April hasn't been in the episodes that Ive been pulling plot stuff from so she hasn't shown up yet. She will eventually though. How old is April? like 16 I think? she's doing freaking SAT prep and getting ready to start applying for university and stuff she's just so busy all the time and also she's busy getting fired from every possible job she could get in New York that's why she hasn't been in the comic yet also I don't know how many days the comic spans over? Like not that much time has passed in the comic so it isn't that weird that April hasn't showed up. It is weird in the sense that I've been making the comic for a year but in the comic itself not much time has passed. She will show up! eventually!!!! I just don't really know how to like smoothly introduce her to Donnie, also like most of the plots involving Big Mama in the show dont really involve April so idk how to exactly get the two to meet. It'll happen though! definitely sometime this year askldfjh

#bean babbles #answered asks #anonymous asks #tlp au #the little prince separated au #oh wow that was a lot of text #lmk if you have any other questions!#i love answering questions #they are fun :)

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anonzentimes · 1 month

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last asker here wahoo weehee but yeah i dont mind the ramble !!! honestly i do feel a little similar sometimes ourgh . maybe not with being in specific fandoms but especially when it comes to like . the smaller things like self inserts . the like

but anyway !!!!!! now im curious and im not too sure if you've answered anything of the sort before but i do wonder what you thought of the difference in characterization with Nagito in the games and in the anime?

not that nagito in the games r even one for one the same- same goes for the anime-

but i do know there's a difference , and i've heard so many differing opinions on how Nagito's potrayed in both, especially discussion on how faithful Nagito in danganronpa 3's character is to danganronpa 2, so i'll admit now im very interested on hearing your thoughts on him when looking at game nagito and anime nagito side by side eyes emoji

YAYY!!!!! I love getting asked to talk about him it's so fun!!! No one has actually asked this before, and I've been planning to do something on this for a bit!

Personally I think anime Nagito is actually really good! Although I think side lining him for a little bit was a weird decision, even if I understand why. But enough of that! Let's talk more about his characterization! I'll talk about what I think about Nagito's characterization in the anime and some annoyances I have with the misinterpretations!

I will admit that some of the fandom's opinions on, "Anime Nagito vs Game Nagito," kind of bother be because a lot of it stems from people not understanding his character in it's entirety in the first place.

The thing about Nagito is that he works as an amazing antagonist because he isn't ill intentioned and is just mentally screwed up. In the killing game his coping mechanisms and absolute beliefs are on display and he is at his worst, he's practically having multiple mental breakdowns and losing it. And his beliefs and coping mechanisms happen to be morally gray because he believes Anything is okay if it's for hope. With his luck cycle, coping mechanisms, and absolute beliefs that stem from both of these things we get Nagito. And when you place Nagito who thinks being trapped on the island forever without the ultimates impacting the world in any way is worse than one person surviving and making an impact on the world, he feels like he has to do something.

Basically, how Nagito acts in the anime and before the first trial is who he is when he's not mentally crumbling and I get really irritated when people try to say that in the game he was a "malicious psychopath" but in the anime he turned into "baby boy" like, just, GRRRAGHHH!!!!! IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE HE NEEDS TO BE GATEKEPT WHEN PEOPLE DO THAT!!! THEY'RE MISUNDERSTANDING HIM SO BAD IT HURTS ��️☹️☹️

I believe the anime's characterization is pretty great and still keeps in tact his absolute beliefs that lead him to do morally gray things for the sake of hope! I think he's very well done characterization wise in the anime. I liked the episode where he ends up blowing up the gym because he wants to postpone the test for his classmates it made a lot sense with how he thinks and his luck cycle! I also really love his encounter with Junko and Izuru. He says several good lines in the anime that are accurate and completely in character for him, and I love it!

I think the addition that the class thought he was weird even before he was at his worst and didn't show much reciprocation is sad and adds to his tragic life. The fact that he isn't surprised when Chisa slaps him, but rather when he is shown affection gets me dude!!!

I think it is sweet though that, his time at hope's peak is probably one of the best experiences he had until everything went wrong. He isn't shown much reciprocation but he genuinely cares for his classmates beyond them being ultimates from hanging out and knowing them so long. He has some reciprocation from Chisa and the other classmates somewhat care about him to varying degrees. I believe his overall luck cycle went, get accepted into hope's peak, good luck, gets diagnosed, bad luck, gains people he cares about in his life and some who care about him too, good luck, all of them become despairs, bad luck!

The other thing I wanted to touch upon is Bryce Pappenbrook listening to criticism about how Nagito sounds more sarcastic than intended. For a lot of the english fanbase the misinterpretation that Nagito's not honest is beyond repair especially since he's hard to understand, but I really do appreciate the effort to change it slightly. Even if people who misunderstood think there's a huge difference or even retcon with his character, I think it's a nice change that he sounds more genuine like his Japanese voice in the anime.

I think the real difference with him in the Anime versus Ultra Despair Girls and Danganronpa 2 is his role in the story. I think he's very in character, we just don't see him having meltdowns and go through his self unaware freak outs. We still see him do morally gray things and impact the plot though! In the anime he's doing better compared to the spiraling we see in Danganronpa 2 and rock bottom even more extreme beliefs we see in Udg.

Also I think the anime solidifying the fact that Nagito usually doesn't go out of his way for the ultimate's attention because he thinks he's unworthy of their time actually makes Danganronpa 2 more impactful. Because, if he doesn't try to seek the ultimates attention, then that's further solidifying the fact Nagito was interested in Hajime, he felt a connection with him even when they first met. We see him do the opposite of what he usually would just because of Hajime, and I think that's really sweet.

Nagito barely mentioning hope in Danganronpa 2's prologue is for the plot twist mostly, however, there could be multiple actual reasons for it. My interpretation is that it's because he wanted to make a good impression so he focuses on that instead, that combined with it not really coming up leads to them not really knowing what he thinks. There are hints of it and he's not purposely "hiding it" at all. Nagito is an honest person who only lies when he feels it's necessary, to further prove that point when he gets the despair disease, personality inverting disease, he gets the Lying disease.

Nagito in the prologue and in the anime are the same because he's not losing it yet, the only difference is Nagito talks slightly less about hope and his beliefs because It's not very relevant, he's trying to make a good impression, and he's focusing on keeping Hajime's attention. My favorite little thing supporting this is that he doesn't complain about going swimming. In the Dangan Island events we see him worry about it, but when he's focusing on everything else he didn't really think about it. He asks what Hajime is planning to do instead.

In conclusion, I believe Nagito in the anime is pretty good. He serves his role well for it not being his usual one, info about what he was like adds a little more to Danganronpa 2 analyzing it, and it's nice that we get to see more of him when he's not at his worst. He's still absolutely the same person and I think his characterization is really good. I think they could have utilized him more or made him relevant to the plot sooner if they wanted, but I think the impact and scenes that he has still are great and work well since he, again, doesn't have his usual role in the anime.

One last thing while I'm here talking about the anime's Nagito, a lot of people like to make the joke that he's "hopesexual" because of the one fan service line of dialogue in Danganronpa 3 where he basically says, "Hope feels amazing," and I just. URAGGHHH!!!!!!!! I'm sorry but if someone unironically says "hopesexual" I hope that their pillow always remains warm on both sides because saying it Is ANNOYINGG!!! It's so easy to get I don't know why people do this, and I know I'm being a little over the top but it just bugs me sooo bad Like,

Hope = Absolute Good/Euphoric Feeling for him, Horny = Euphoric Feeling for him, CONCLUSION: GENERAL EUPHORIA DESCRIPTOR!! He doesn't have a hope kink and the people who make those jokes are weird especially since it's straight up wrong!! I know it's just a joke, but it still gets on my nerves regardless because some people take it seriously. Even one of his songs uses this comparison by allegorizing hope with sexual desires, conveying that both are euphoric emotions for him! >:(

Anyways!

Thank you for your ask and Hopefully I successfully got all of the points I wanted to across! <3

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krmy2386 · 2 years

Text

Tom is Finer

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Reader

It took longer than originally expected… I’m sorry!

It doesn’t really follow either movie. I just had an idea and ran with it.

PLEASE DONT STEAL! And please be kind😅❤️

Warnings: Implied smut(no actual smut), Maverick is a dick(I’m sorry! It was necessary for the plot!)

Based on Tom is Finer by Kristy Lee:

https://youtube.com/shorts/4zfsF2DVpEo?feature=share

P.S. I am IN LOVE with this gif!!!😍😍😍

I no longer entertain him

Why’d I give him my attention?

Pete and I had been going out for about 3 months.

But I had noticed a shift recently. Before we made it official, Pete was great. He was attentive and caring. Now, everything has changed.

Tonight he asked me out to the O Club with his friend Goose and his wife. They are absolutely wonderful. They love each other so much, it almost hurt to see them together when I felt like Pete only wanted me there as a place holder until something better came along.

Carol was the only person I had confided in about mine and Pete’s relationship. He rarely wanted to spend alone time with me anymore. He actually never wanted to go anywhere but the O Club. And I knew exactly why.

Pete had been eyeing the same woman at the bar for weeks. Throughout the night I saw Pete scanning the room. When he finally found her sitting at the bar, his eyes lit up.

“I’m going to get a drink.” He said walking away.

He didn’t ask if any of us wanted one too. He just left. I felt humiliated. He could at least do a better job at hiding his obvious affections for another woman when I was sitting right there.

Carol saw how sad I looked and grabbed my hand.

“Honey,” she said to Goose, “We’re going to the ladies room. We’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Goose just smiled. Knowing we needed a moment alone. Even he had noticed Maverick’s hurtful behavior.

She pulled me into the ladies and checked that is was empty.

“What’s going on with you and Maverick?” She asked bluntly.

I sighed, “I honestly don’t know. We were fine but ever since we made it official he has been distant. He doesn’t want to spend time with me alone. The only place he wants to see me is here.”

“What could be going on with him?” Carol seemed to be asking herself.

“My guess is the blonde at the bar.” I said bitterly.

Carol sighed, “Her name is Charlie. Goose told me about her. Pete had his sights on her but she kept turning him down.” She told me gently.

I looked down trying not to cry. I felt so angry and humiliated!

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Carol said. “He’s an absolute fool for acting like this!”

“Thanks,” I said, I know she was just trying to help.

She pulled me in to a hug and said, “You deserve better.”

“I think I’ll just call a cab. I don’t feel like staying out anymore.”I said shakily.

Carol nodded and helped me clean up before we walked back out to the bar.

Pete was still at the bar talking to Charlie. I rolled my eyes and walked right past him.

Carol walked up to him. Probably to tell him I was leaving. He just nodded and went back to his conversation with Charlie. I went home.

————————————————————

Why’d I give him my attention?

How’d I overlook his best friend?

About a week later I was invited out by Carol. I was surprised considering I hadn’t talked to Maverick since that night at the bar. No calls or anything. I told her that I wasn’t really in the mood to heal with Pete, she assured me he wouldn’t be there. I decided to go.

I walked in to the O Club and quickly found Carol and Goose and they were joined by two pilots I didn’t recognize, and Maverick. Of course he was here.

“There she is!” Goose exclaimed.

Pete looked stunned to see me. He clearly didn’t expect me. I smiled at him, but he hurried away to the bar embarrassed. Like a kid caught doing something naughty.

I quickly looked at Carol, mentally calling her a liar. Why would she do that? He clearly didn’t want me here enough to invite me himself, so why should I be here?

Before I could call her out on her lie she spoke up, “This is my friend Y/N! Y/N this Slider and Iceman.” She added with a smirk.

Slider smiled and waved at me before turning back to Goose and talking. But Iceman had his full attention on me.

He had a smile smile that made my knees weak. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck.

“Call me Tom.” Iceman said, and reached out his hand to me.

“Nice to meet you.” I said trying to ignore the way he gazed at me. I reached my hand out to him to shake. He instead kissed my hand. I thought I was going to melt in to the floor.

“Can so buy you a drink?” Iceman asked, breaking his trance on me.

“Sure! Thank you!” I said trying not to be over excited. But it was hard given the effect he had in me.

I gave him my drink order and as he walked over to the bar I looked at Carol. She leaned in and whispered, “He’s a great guy. A little cocky for my taste, but he’s better than Mav.”

“Why haven’t I seen him around you guys?”

I asked.

“He and Maverick butt heads a-lot.” She said. “They can be friendly when they need to be, probably just some pilot-ego stuff. But you should go for it!”

“I don’t know, Carol. If I couldn’t get Pete to pay attention to me how can I get Tom to?” I asked.

“You don’t need to, Sweetie,” Carol said with a sly smile, “He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you for a second since he met you.”

She nodded in his direction and I turned around to see him looking directly at us. Most men would look away and try to play it off as a coincidence.

Not Tom. He smiled and winked at me, and I felt my face heat up. I looked at Carol and we both giggled like little girls.

Poor Goose was very conflicted. Maverick was his best friend. Practically his brother. He had tried to talk to Mav about his recent behavior before, but it never worked. Goose knew Carol had a logical reason for calling on Iceman that night. He just hoped it didn’t end in a fight.

————————————————————

Damn, that’s the kind of gentleman

Holds the door when I’m walking in

I spent the next 2 hours talking to Tom. He may have been cocky pilot like Pete, but that’s where their similarities ended.

He was sweeter, funnier, and a complete gentleman. We were completely lost in the conversation until we heard a throat clearing.

It was Goose, he had his arm around Carol.

“We’re headed out, need to relieve the baby sitter.” He joked. “Do you need a ride Y/N?”

Tom spoke, “I can take her.”

Before I could speak I heard a voice intervene.

“Not necessary Ice,” Maverick said glaring at us. “I’ll take my girl home.”

My blood boiled. He really ignored me the entire night. No. Our entire “relationship”. But he decided to act all tough when someone else wanted me? Oh. Hell. No!

“Then I suggest you find a phone and give Charlie a call.” I said sassily before turning to Tom. “I would appreciate a ride home, Thank you.”

Tom smirked, “Let’s go.” He said while grabbing my hand and lead me to the door without a second look at Maverick. We walked over to his car and he opened the door for me.

I looked out my window to see Carol and Goose in their Bronco next to us. They both smiled and gave me a thumbs up.

Tom and I talked the entire ride, about anything and everything. He was so easy to be around. We pulled up to my house and immediately felt nervous. I didn’t want tonight to end, but I was hesitant. After the humiliation Maverick put me through the past few weeks, I knew I couldn’t go through that again.

“I hope you know,” Tom said breaking the silence, “I really like you Y/N. You are gorgeous, smart, and funny. Maverick was an absolute idiot to screw up with you.”

I looked at him stunned, “So you knew Pete and I were together?”

Tom nodded, “Yes, I knew. But I also heard how he had been treating you. Ditching you in a bar, not calling, and flirting with other women.”

“So this isn’t just a ploy to piss Maverick off?” I said semi-joking .

Tom laughed, “No. But that is an added bonus.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his response. There was something about Iceman that made me want to believe him. Believe that he genuinely wanted me, and that he wouldn’t hurt me.

“You deserve better, Y/N. I know I can treat you better.” Tom said seriously.

I smiled and said, “I believe you.”

————————————————————

Makes me feel like I’m in demand

Not some f***ing back-up plan

Being with Tom was fantastic! We had been dating for about 2 months. Recently we hadn’t been able to see each other due to training, but we talked on the phone everyday. I told him once that he didn’t have to and that I didn’t want to bother him at work. He assured me that I would never be a bother to him and that he looked forward to talking to me during the day.

Tonight was going to be our first date in awhile and I was so excited. I was getting ready when I heard the door bell, he was right on time. I opened the door to see him in jeans and a nice shirt. It was still kind of odd seeing him out of uniform but what caught my eye was his hand. He brought me flowers. I started to tear up.

“What’s wrong, gorgeous? Do you not like them?” He asked worried.

“No! They are beautiful! I’ve just never had someone bring me flowers before.” I replied, slightly embarrassed by my emotional outbreak.

Tom looked flabbergasted, “No one? Ever?”

I shook my head ‘No’.

His face softened and he set down the flowers before grabbing my face lightly, “I promised to treat you better than anyone else, and I meant it. So I hope you like flowers because now you will be getting them all the time.” He joked. I couldn’t help but laugh.

He took me to a local diner and then to a movie. On the way home we sat in comfortable silence. Being with Tom seemed to come naturally.

That night when he took me home, one thing lead to another and we ended up in bed.

He made could in his promise. He definitely treated me better than anyone else ever had.

————————————————————————

Call me traitor

Call me phony

But he lost me to his homie

After a long week I was thrilled for this weekend! Tom would have 3 days off and we planned to spend them all together.

Knowing him it would be spent in bed, but still I was excited.

I pulled into my drive way after work and was surprised to see Pete sitting on my porch. We hadn’t spoken in months. What did he want?

I got out of my car and headed to the door. He stood up to greet me.

“Hi Y/N.” He said.

“Hi Pete. What are you doing here?” I asked genuinely confused.

“We just hadn’t seen each other in a while,” he was smiling but he was clearly nervous. “I figured we could hang out.” He added.

“Actually I have plans.” I said trying to walk past him to my door.

He side stepped in-front of me, “What about tomorrow?”

“I’m busy all weekend, Pete.” I said beginning to get frustrated. “Can you please leave? I am expecting company.”

Pete sighed, “Look Y/N, you can’t be with Tom.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought I’d hurt myself, “Why not? Please tell me why I shouldn’t be with an attractive, funny, smart, wonderful man who treats me well.”

Pete scoffed, “He’s using you to get at me. Can’t you see that?”

“Really? How?” I asked sarcastically, “Does brag about having me? About our dates or our sex life? Does he even mention me at all?” I asked, knowing I specifically asked him to not talk about our private life on base for this exact reason.

Pete nervously looked down, “No. But—.”

I interrupted him, “ ‘But’ nothing, Pete. You humiliated me! You made me feel like some back-up girlfriend to keep you company while you waited for someone better.”

“I never meant to hurt you.” He tried to reason.

“But you did!” I yelled.

“I know I did!” He yelled back.

He took a deep breath and looked at me, “Why him? Why did you have to pick him?”

“Pete,” I said softly, “I know you feel like I’m betraying you or something. But my decision had nothing to do with you. I love him. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I won’t apologize for that.”

Pete nodded. He silently walked over to his bike and rode off.

————————————————————

Got a real man

Real provider

I walked into my house and collapsed on the couch. I felt emotionally drained.

I was re-thinking what happened when Tom walked in.

“Babe?” He called before seeing me laying down on the couch. “I saw Mav pulling out. Are you okay?” He didn’t seem surprised by Pete’s presence.

I sat up, “Did you know he was coming by?” I asked.

Tom sighed before sitting next to me and saying, “He and I got into it today. He overheard me talking to Slider and he went off talking about how I was only with you to piss him off. I lost it, and started yelling about how he should’ve treated you better if he wanted to keep you. He said that he wasn’t giving you up, that he would prove you still wanted him. I still should’ve warned you. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Tom was genuinely concerned. He didn’t even seem to care that Pete was here. He was worried about how I felt.

“What we’re you talking to Slider about?” I asked

“What?” Tom asked confused.

“You said that Pete over heard you telling Slider something.” I explained. “So what were you telling Slider?” I was slightly nervous. What could he have been telling Slider? I thought he didn’t talk about me on base?

Tom smiled and I couldn’t help but smile too. The he grabbed my hands then kissed them.

“Tom! What?” I said giggling.

“Slider was asking how things were going with us, and I told him how great you were.” He looked down bashfully, which was something I never thought I would see him do.

Tom continued, “Then I told him that I am in love with you.”

I felt my smile grow even more.

“And I am Y/N. I love so much! I would do absolutely anything for you.” He said and I thought I was going to die of happiness.

“Funny you should say that.” I said shyly. “I told Pete when he was here how wonderful you were and and I love you too.”

Tom pulled me into him and kissed me. Tom always kissed me passionately. Like it was all he was meant to do.

I don’t think I could’ve been happier in that moment.

I meant what I said to Pete. Tom is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love him. And I’m not sorry, Tom is finer.

❤️❤️❤️

@luckyladycreator2

@b-bradshaw

@t-rexs

@rosiahills22

@vienna1644

@timbradfordsboot

@blue-aconite

@barbiegirlbaby

@ahopelessromanticwritersworld

#top gun #top gun 1986 #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #iceman #iceman kazansky #iceman x reader #top gun maverick #thank you #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #val kilmer

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yellowocaballero · 4 months

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i dont know if this something you put a lot of thought into but it seems like you might and im curious so, what are some of your favorite themes to write about/the themes that interest you in writing or media?

Oh wow, good question. I put both a lot of thought and very little into the themes of my work. I always sit down and decide what I'm saying, and the meaning of the story, but some things always emerge in the writing. I usually discover what a story is actually about as I'm writing it. It's usually only after I finish the work that I realize what themes I had put in there, which seems like it should be bad. I think this means that a lot of my themes come through subconsciously. They're typically just...things I think about a lot.

I think the one thing I keep on coming back to is *tumblr voice* the mortifying ordeal of being known. That entire article, including the image of walking down a hundred stories of hell before reaching heaven, reconfigured my brain. It's just so damn hard to exist in a world with other people in it. There's an inevitability to hurting each other, but the love's worth it. Playing The World Ends With You at a vulnerable age primed me for obsession with this. That one quote from The Little Prince, ya know.

Generational trauma, cycles of trauma and abuse, and the long-term impact of trauma comes up a lot for me too. How being fucked up makes you fuck up others, the long-term consequences of being fucked up, the coping mechanisms we develop as a result. The ugly side of trauma and mental illness, the way we lash out and hurt people. I talk about escapism a lot, and the impact that has on you and the people around you long-term. This is usually exemplified through amnesia plotlines. This is a deep cut, but the Warchild series by Karin Lowachee had the best take on this I've read in a book.

Non-traditional love. I end up writing a lot of sibling dynamics, but I like creating unnamable and undefinable relationships. A lot of things I write just become very aro and asexual narratives. Love that saves. Love that isn't enough, but it still matters. The other side of love, which is grief.

I could go on. Forgiving yourself. Struggling to determine how to be a good person. How your identity & the intersections of your identity affect who you are. Power and power dynamics. A LOT of man vs self stories, like a lot a lot (I'm not overly interested by villains). The experience of being mentally ill and navigating the world as a mentally ill and/or disabled person. The differences between navigating the world as a man or a woman. I write a lot, so a lot of stuff tends to come up, lol. Roleswaps - fucking, somehow, for some reason, WHY, WHY DO I WRITE SO MUCH OF THEM -

Thanks for the ask, I had to do some self-reflection to answer it! I never really realize I'm writing about these things until I am, again. They're just all part of my framework of how I understand the world. Everybody has those, but when you're a writer it's easier to pull them out and microscope them.

#my asks #my writing #i really like writing experiences different from my own #i think it helps foster a sense of empathy and my own skills as a writer #a lot of my own writing is just informed by a feeling of “irl [and/or in the narrative] nobody gives a shit about this person but I do”#in their own ways dimitri & marc/stephanie brown/fox & clones/diamond & pearl clans #are people who nobody cares about or likes #severe mental illness; poverty; Every Clone Metaphor Ever; indigenous people #idk. didnt fully realize i did that til just now. spite i guess.#dunno what's up with THAT one there's no reason for THAT #oh well

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drdemonprince · 10 months

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I feel like you've answered a question on this before, so sorry if my search skillz failed me. how do you keep a playful attitude when trying new things? I started a book on wu-wei/'trying not to try' that has made me feel a bit hopeless so far, as I know that approaching things more casually/playfully will help it feel less painful (social situations, job search, dating, etc), but apparently you can't consciously try to be playful?!

Hmmmm this is a tricky question to answer, because it is far easier to describe what the end state feels like than to explain how I got there. But I will try!

I think if you're someone who tends to be quite skeptical and cynical about things, your first instinct during difficult situations might be to turn that skepticism toward yourself. You watch yourself trying to complete the new activity, or talk to the unfamiliar person, and all you can see is the flaws, and you tell yourself, "yeah, nice try bozo, you're never going to be good enough at this / it's never going to be worth it" and what do you know, you are crestfallen and unmotivated. And now that you're judging yourself and feeling shitty, it's even more difficult to complete the task.

but, in my experience in graduate school, developing as a creative writer, and just fumbling my way through social mores, there comes a time when you stop turning that skepticism on yourself all the time, and instead direct it outward, and begin to notice just how fucking confused and fucked up everybody else's attempts are. and if you're lucky, you might even notice other people's foibles and missteps with a sense of affection, rather than cruelty.

the more you step outside of yourself and observe others, the more you notice all the awkward things people say, the strange moments of crossed wires and missed signals, the jokes that fall flat, and just how much people really do not care about all of that so long as you keep engaged and keep your energy open and keep trying.

i have never seen a neurotypical socialize flawlessly. they say rude weird ass things and bump into other people all the fucking time! but they just keep going. often they don't even realize they've done anything wrong. and maybe they haven't even done anything wrong really. perfection isn't really what is expected. the energy is what matters more than the execution, and so if they move around with an open, receptive quality to themselves, and keep learning, they can get by being a little awkward or confused just fine.

and once you recognize how much people are fucking up all the time and that it doesnt really matter, and nobody really cares, for me it gets a lot easier to saunter around being my own level of messy and loose too. i used to judge how inept and oblivious everybody was -- at work, in school, during the hangout, on the train. and at some point i realized it was actually beautiful and something i could feel affectionate about.

it turns out you do not need to worry about everyone behind you in line at the grocery store hating you for taking too long putting your change away. AND you dont have to be mad at the guy in front of you who takes five minutes to put his change away either. because YOU are HIM and HE is YOU and we all suck and that's great.

it's fucking funny how silly and sloppy and dazed a lot of people really are. everybody fucks up constantly and is fucking weird. so who cares! i dont need to evacuate the space because i forgot myself and started picking my nose in public for a second. i can just rub my hand on my pant leg and move on. i dont need to give up going to the comic book club because me and one other guy there got into a small argument. i can come back the next month and make a joke about it with him. that's just normal messy human stuff.

the writer david cain talks about coping with social anxiety by imagining other human beings as kittens that have been dumped out from a basket into the room. they roam around, falling over themselves, exploring and sniffing and doing kitteny things, and none of them are a threat to you ever, and their actions dont mean all that much and certainly aren't all that menacing, they're just silly little animals fumbling around.

and i like to think of humans that way. we goof off, we devote an entire supposedly very serious work meeting to discussing something only tangentially relevant but far more emotionally compelling, we make up all kinds of games to play and weird rules for those games, and then we break the rules of those games and forget them. none of this shit is like, real. and the people who recognize what a goofy joke it is are often the most powerful.

not taking anything too seriously makes me feel powerful. im cynical and skeptical about everything that i get told is an airtight social or procedural rule, and i experiment around the boundaries of it, to see where it bends. but whereas i used to do that in a very bitter and entitled way, trying to find my way "out" of a system I had disdain for, now i can sometimes play with these boundaries and laugh at myself for tripping over them at times and just keep on moving, because that's what everybody does.

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clatoera · 7 months

Text

Always Remember We're Burned For Better Chapter 20: We Will Never Go Back to That Bloodshed

Well everyone...we made it. It has taken nearly nine months but here we are. We are at the end of ARWBFB (save for the Epilogue). This has been one of my biggest undertakings and I am so so so proud of it. You guys have followed me through two board exams, applications, and so so so many different speciality rotations during this journey. You have been incredibly patient but also incredibly supportive. I NEVER could have finished it without you guys. I wanted to get this up sooner or at least on the 13th. I failed at both of those, but I hope you will understand when you see that this chapter is the longest by a significant amount. I am so proud of this fic, and I hope you all decide that it was worth giving your time to sharing with me.

The chapter title comes from The Great War. A fun fact would be that this line actually loops back to "we will never go back to that bloodshed, crimson clover" with Crimson Clover being the title of chapter one. It's come full circle (save for the epilogue).

This chapter is designed like Chapter 4 was. Each segment is divided by a lyric that encapsulates the vibes. It is not as happy, but it is the start of happily ever after.

AO3

Masterpost

As always..this is for everyone who has helped me and loved me and supported this story. I cannot even tag everyone but I will try. A LARGE portion of this goes to @ohhowwehavefallen who has talked about MOST things that happen in this chapter with me in depth and has enabled me (VSC immortalized forever with this one, so is Cato buying the academy). @kentwells who actually helped me make major decisions regarding the sequel, which affected the way Marvel and Glimmer ended here. Thank you for putting up with me. @dukeysquid and @mackcoleslaw for the constant constant support. @clarascrabarmy who talks me off the ledge and is my go to night reader (and night validator that im crazy). @mollywog who has tolerated this fic for 9 months. @crookedlyniceperson who comes in with the memes EVERY single time. @cyansadnessI dont even get to talk to you much any more but you were an OG reader and I am giving you kisses for your love. There are so many more who I am afraid I may have missed (and I know I have missed) but i'm emotional and hormonal and crying as I type this.

This is, and always has been, for you guys who have given me your support and love. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I never would have finished without the love and support of every single person who has read this.

Thank you.

How evergreen, our group of friends

The kitchen, despite the literal war that had raged on outside in District One, was quite literally untouched. Untouched, as in, no one had ever used it even prior to the games or the war that should have resolved the house itself to rubble.

They had quickly discovered that despite varying levels of damage to the districts, the Victors Villages were left nearly untouched. Call it symbolism, call it fate, call it making a point, but this was not a fact any of the surviving victors were going to debate or question.

For now they were all just going to be thankful to even have a place to live, especially one that wasn’t an underground bunker in a district that resented them.

It’s Clove, who is opening and shutting every single cabinet in the bright white kitchen. The golden handles and marble countertops are pristine– perfect and completely new. Every drawer is completely stocked with spices and the same sorts of things her own home had come with, but it is evident that these cabinets had remained untouched from their initial stocking. There was no dusting of cinnamon around the pores of the bottle, no slight film of salt from pouring over a steaming pot. They were still perfectly alphabetized, perfectly aligned in the spice drawer, as if the kitchen itself was taken right out of a capitol home decor magazine.

Funnily enough, though the kitchen was clearly new, it was so…Glimmer. Or at least the Glimmer she had been forced to become.

Gorgeous white marble countertops, shimmering golden metal for every door handle and knob on every drawer. The utensils were a beautiful gold, and even the appliances were designed to blend right in with the shining and glamorous surroundings.

In one drawer, she found incredibly sharp knives with mother of pearl handles, in another were soft baby pink pans. It was very much designed for the fifteen year old teenage girl who had won the house as part of her victor’s spoils.

Somehow, even without the Capitol’s influence, Clove still believes Glimmer would have turned out a golden, pink-loving girl. Or at least, it’s comforting to imagine it that way.

Clove curls her fingers around the shimmering handle of one of the paring knives, bringing it to eye level to inspect it. The blade is alarmingly sharp for one designed to dice vegetables or carve into fruits, further supporting Clove’s suspicion that it had never been used prior to well, right now. She weighs it in her hand, feeling the way it settles in her palm. Her other hand comes to run over the couple of inches of metal, evaluating the quality. It was top of the line in terms of cooking, of course, nothing but the best for any victor, but it may even serve well in terms of slicing through-

She drops the knife, flinching only a little at the realization of how the metal colliding with the marble will dull the beautiful little blade. It startles her, not the sound of the metal on rock, no that any District Two girl could sleep through like a lullaby, but by the harsh realization of her own thoughts. She would likely never slice through anything but food again, there would be no more blood spitting on her from pulsing arteries, no more tendons severed.

Clove would probably never kill anyone else ever again. The thought is both disconcerting and comforting, leaving Clove alarmed and settled.

“Are you okay?” A soft, sleepy voice asks from around the entrance to the kitchen. When Clove looks up she sees Glimmer, rubbing at her eyes with her long cream colored sleeves. She shuffles into the kitchen in fluffy white slippers, a sweater that reaches halfway down her legs, and exceptionally messy loose braids that tell Clove that yeah she probably did just wake up.

“Good morning, Princess.” Clove scoffs, gently grabbing the dropped knife and twisting it nimbly between her fingers. “It’s four in the afternoon, Glimmer. Did you have a busy night?”

“I was with Cash and Gloss all night, we’re trying to figure out what to do about our parents.” Glimmer sits herself at the island continuing to rub at her eye with the heel of her hand, exhaustion written all across her pretty face. “I didn’t come back until this morning.”

Clove flinches at her own insensitivity– while she was well used to being, well, alone. An orphan. On her own. Whatever, it was..new for the others. Cato’s family was still in the wind, but Glimmer and her siblings, as well as Marvel, were new to the world of being parentless. “God, Glimmer, I’m sorry–”

At least Glimmer had Cashmere and Gloss, the same could not be said for Marvel, who was the only surviving member of his entire family. Clove could easily relate to that, because even if anyone survived, they were dead to her long ago.

Glimmer just nods her head, acknowledging but not verbally accepting the apology her friend offers.

Nothing had been necessarily right between the four of them since the vote. Cato and Clove, they were perfectly fine, of course. Marvel however had lost any progress he had made with Glimmer, and Cato nor Clove had yet to fully return to her good graces. It wasn’t even like any of them could blame her for being mad. She had been right.

“Thanks for letting us stay with you.” She decides, instead filling the space between them with gentle words of appreciation. “Like..literally in your house with you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that.. It’s nice not to be alone.” Glimmer sighs, resting her chin on her hand and looking across the island to Clove, who is still twisting a knife in her hand. “I don’t know if i’m quite ready to be alone yet.”

They weren’t necessarily far from anyone. Marvel spent the days over here with them, Brutus was in one of the empty houses, Cash and Gloss each in their own and then Enobaria was– “Is Enobaria staying across the street in the empty one or down the road–”

Glimmer cocks an eyebrow, the littlest smirk making an appearance on her face. “She’s staying with my sister.”

“Oh!” Clove looks nearly taken aback as she opens another drawer, absently sorting through the perfect, unused cutting boards and kitchen aids to distract herself from the awkward tension between her and her host. “I didn’t know they were even friends.”

“Girl..” Glimmer giggles, leaning in closer on the island, nearly pressing her upper body into the marble. “You know Enobaria and Cashmere are..” She makes a gesture with her middle and pointer finger that Clove can’t interpret, and the confused look on her freckled face must convey that to the blonde girl. “Right?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Do I need to spell it out for you, Clove? They’re fucking. They’re a thing.”

“What! No, I mean just because they’re staying together doesn’t mean–” The heat in Clove’s cheeks at the realization leaves her flustered, and flustered is not a look Clove wears well.

“Well that's what everyone thinks about the four of us.” Glimmer teases, before bringing her hand out infront of her to inspect the remnants of her nails. “Seriously. They’ve been a thing for like…god Cash won sixty-four? So… ten…ish years? Probably? I dunno. But it’s not a secret. I’m shocked you couldn’t tell.”

“Well I didn’t see them together much, okay? And noone thinks that the four of us are all fucking, Glimmer. That’s crazy Capitol type shit.” Clove defends, desperately looking through the drawers for a change of topic. Maybe she could understand why Enobaria got so irritated when ever she and Cato got caught–

Yep. Okay. Makes sense!

“Sure they don’t Clove, you don’t see the looks people give us?”

Clove digs through the drawers, finding the still boxed mixer and the perfect white plates, nothing seeming even a little out of place. She is flustered and the heat in her neck and face won’t even allow her to respond to such comments.

“For fucks sake, Glimmer, have you used anything in this kitchen.”

“Drawer closest to the refrigerator has two little plates and two forks. We used to …uh…we would eat a lot of cake.” Glimmer finds herself grabbing at the skin around her nail with her teeth, tugging at the cuticles until they ripped off. She couldn’t resist the urge to constantly be picking at and degrading something about her body, and right now her nails were all she had access to. “Other than that, not really.”

“How did you survive, Glimmer? Seriously?” Clove rests a hand on the back of her hip, strumming along the top of her hip while also trying to massage out some of the pain of her lower back that never seemed to go away.

“Well, everything I ate was precooked and preweighed, I had to keep a certain look you know?” Glimmer shrugs, kicking her feet just a little at the height of the chair, twisting just ever so slightly to keep herself comfortable. “I wasn’t really allowed to go beyond that. Cooking was never important.”

“You’re gonna have to learn to make something Glimmer, especially if you ever have kids–” Clove teases, but the biting response of Glimmer wipes the smile right off of her face.

“I told you in the Capitol I'm not doing that. I’m never doing that. I don’t want to.” Glimmer snaps before she pushes herself out of the chair so she can make a quick escape if the conversation goes any further south.

“You used to, I’m sorry, Glimmer. That's who I knew you as. The girl who wanted to settle into her life and be someone’s mother. And for what it’s worth, Glim Glam, I think you’d have been good at it.” Clove puts a hand up in defense, before she awkwardly goes back to going through the remaining cabinets, stopping prior to the refrigerator and pantry.

She pauses, and turns to face her friend. She gives a heavy sigh, bracing herself on the counter behind her, when she begins.

“I’m sorry. I am. About the vote. You were right, and as soon as you pulled me into that room– I knew you were right. About his sister and about our friends’ kids and everything. I just wanted to feel like some wrong was made right, Glimmer. It wasn’t going to be me back in the games, and I wanted them to feel what it was like. But then you mentioned Cora, and god knows if she’s alive, but if she is she couldn’t ever go to the games. Or Finnick’s kids, or yours or– I don’t know. All of a sudden it wasn’t just like..nameless kid tributes. It was people we knew. It was kids we knew. It was little girls who looked like you and little red heads in four and! It was kids we love or will love and– you were right. And I’m sorry.”

There is a stunned silence for a few seconds that feels like years to Clove, as Glimmer looks at her with the look of a doe caught in the lights of a car.

“....thank you.” Glimmer whispers in response, but something palpable has finally shifted between them. Whatever permafrost had threatened to take hold on the boundaries of their friendship started to melt away in that moment. Maybe not a heat wave, but a start. “I…thank you, Clove.”

Clove gives Glimmer another once over as they stand staring at each other. The months of this war had taken a toll on Clove of course, evidenced by the aches in her body and the scars along her skin. Her scars would fade, as her bruises had, and even the pain isn’t visible. On the outside Clove still looked almost exactly like she always had.

On Glimmer though, the changes were blatant. The golden glow of her skin was long gone, replaced by pale, nearly gray undertones. That long platinum hair was longer than ever, but now revealed multiple inches of a honey blonde natural color that had been hidden since before she even won the games. Even the actual structure of her face and body had changed. Any capitol enhancement had long since grown out or metabolized away, leaving Glimmer with deep collar bones and sinking skin on her cheeks.

She looked exhausted but she also looked starved. She looked sick.

“Glimmer…you look hungry.” Clove gives her a look that must be riddled with pity, for the blonde looks away and at her hands instead. “Will you please let me make you something? I know there probably isn’t much in here but I can send the boys out…” B

Before Glimmer can argue or decline, Clove swings the door open to what she expected to be a barren refrigerator and is taken back by the fully stocked fridge that awaits her.

Well. Full. And Stocked. Maybe not with actual kitchen staples or ingredients for meals, but definitely full.

“What in the fuck–”

“Marvel does that sometimes. And Cato’s been talking nonstop about your cooking for literal months. They went yesterday, I think. I..don’t think either of them knew what they were doing but they’ve got the spirit. They mean well.,” Glimmer explains, not bothering to put up a fight with Clove and deny her this opportunity. Even if she didn’t eat it– Cato and Marvel sure fucking would. This was their new Hunger Games.

“Good intentions…that's why there’s seventeen tomatoes?” Clove raises an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile gracing her face as she surveys the fridge. Sure it was a little..odd.. Seventeen tomatoes, three bags of flour, at least fifty eggs, a dozen heads of garlic… odd but good intentioned nonetheless. “I’m going to guess they wanted pasta?”

“That sounds right. I think I heard Cato saying something about that, but they lost me when I heard them trying to remember if onions and garlic are the same thing.” Glimmer shrugs, but finds herself going back to sit at the island, no longer on the verge of running out of the kitchen at any moment.

Clove starts grabbing armfuls of the tomatoes to transfer them to the countertop, feeling the soft flesh of one under her fingertips. She probably wouldn’t even need the chef’s knife, but damn if she wasn’t going to take the opportunity to use it. “Do you have a big- you know what, nevermind.”

She decides against asking for a stock pot, knowing fully well Glimmer would have no idea what she was talking about. Instead, she rummages through the cabinets until she does in fact find a blush pink soup pot practically bigger than Clove herself. She immediately sets herself to gently slicing the skin off of the tomatoes, delighting in the way the acidic juice dripped down over her fingers.

“You should give him a chance, Glimmer, he’s a good guy.” Clove suggests, tossing each individual skinned tomato into the giant pink pot one at a time.

“I’m not the one not interested, Clove, you know that.” Glimmer reminds her bitterly, reaching forward to attempt to grab a tomato, dropping it when the acid in the juice burns the raw skin around her nails. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Now that isn’t true and you know it. You two seemed fine and then the vote happened and you shut him down again.” Clove points out, turning to the cabinet behind her to grab her selection of the endless array of unused spices. “Which, I get it, you were hurt–”

“He can’t just make my trauma a personal vendetta, Clove. He can’t advocate for slaughtering babies in an arena under the name of defending me and the things that happened to me.” Glimmer hops off the chair once again, this time letting herself scope out the refrigerator and whatever the hell the boys had come up with to fill it with.

“It happened to him, too, Glimmer. Maybe not as much as it did to you. But it happened to him, too.” Clove collects salt and sugar and various other jars of spices she currently can’t name but knows for some reason she needs to add them. “Glim. Sometimes we care more about avenging the people we love, rather than actually doing what's right. The things that are done to people you love..sometimes that's just worse.”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Clove. To be seen as the girl who fucks everyone. Whether I wanted to or not. And trust me, I didn’t want to. And no matter how hard I try, for the rest of my life, that is how everyone is going to see me. Do you know what the best part of all this is, Clove? That I never have to be seen in public ever again.” She filters through the fruit– half a dozen containers of strawberries, a single mango, an entire box of blueberries– before letting herself grab a single blueberry for a snack.

“We don’t see you that way, you know? Not me, not Cato, and god Glimmer you know Marvel doesn’t either.” Clove assures, using the palm of her hand to measure out the various herbs and spices she’s tossing in. There’s no recipe– she’s just doing what feels right. Such is the theme for all aspects of their lives right now. “And you never have to do that again. Hell, never have sex again at all for all I care, obviously I do but–”

“Yeah, Clove, I know. We share a wall. The wall your bed is on.”

“Oh! Right! Well.. anyway!” Clove fakes a grimace and mouths ‘sorry’ before she places a lid on her creation. “Come on. Let's go find the boys, then I'll show you how to make the pasta.”

“I think they’re laying in the yard.” Glimmer waves off, before grabbing another handful of berries to pop into her mouth.

“They’re…laying in the yard?” Clove raises a dark eyebrow, confusion mapped across her face. “Are they dogs?”

“Something about missing grass and fresh air in Thirteen, I don’t know, I could hear them through the window.” Glimmer shakes her head, but stands in the doorway of the refrigerator. “Do you need anything out of here?”

“They’re fucking weird.” Clove clears off a workspace to knead and roll out the pasta, recognizing that this is probably the first time these counters have been used for anything ever. “uh yeah I need eggs and flour… Honestly, I usually make Cato come do this part because I like to watch his hands knead the dough but…let them…become one with nature or whatever they’re out there doing.”

“Why do you need flowers in noodles? I didn’t think you could eat those?” Glimmer cocks her head, holding out the cardboard carton of a dozen eggs to her, but pausing with a perplexed look on her face as she searches the refrigerator for a bouquet of some sort. “I can go check the garden–”

“What? No Glimmer, Flour not flowers.” Clove wipes her hands on the side of her shirt– Cato’s shirt, actually–, and comes next to her friend to point at the various bags on the bottom shelf. “It’s like..it’s white powder, I can’t explain it. It makes bread. Noodles. Cookies… pizza. It makes all the good stuff you probably don’t eat. But we are going to change that.”

There are a few moments of silence, as Clove measures things. It’s nearly peaceful, with the only sounds coming from the dough being flopping and kneaded into the marble.

Silent, that is, until Glimmer finally breaks.

“Thank you for staying with me.” Glimmer manages to get out, when tears Clove didn’t even know were coming just start pouring out of her friend. “I-i’m going to be alone for the rest of my life, I don’t want to be alone yet.”

Clove pauses her hand folding, brushing her flour covered hands on her shirt before she rests her elbows on the counter, leaning in to truly hear her friend. “Glimmer, you aren’t going to be alone forever.”

“But I am! Yeah, Cash and Gloss are here but..they aren’t here. My parents are gone. You and Cato are going to go home, I don’t want to be alone yet.” Glimmer sobs, furiously wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, Mascara from god knows when smearing along them. “Noone wants a girl that everyone has had, at least not for more than a night, Clove! I’m alone and when i’m alone I just..I swear it’s like someone’s going to come in and they’re going to touch me and they’re going to hurt me and–”

“You’re scared.” Clove realizes, and her heart completely and utterly shatters for the girl. She sees her not as the twenty something girl in front of her, but instead a scared fifteen year old victor she never got to grow out of being. “It’s okay to be scared, but no one's going to hurt you anymore.” She nearly reaches for her hand, she nearly reaches to do anything to comfort her, but something tells her that sudden touch is the furthest thing from what Glimmer needs right now.

“Someone is always ready to hurt me, Clove. It’s all anyone wants out of me. Noone wants me but they all want me. I just think about all the things they’ve done to me, Clove. How many times they’ve shot me up with something or gave me a handful of pills and just told me to swallow them. Who knows what they’ve done to me…” Glimmer cries, hot tears tracking down her face and onto the fabric of her sleeves. They speckle her sweater, soaking into the cream colored fabric and turning it dark. The levee has broken within Glimmer, and the rushing waves of grief cannot be stopped. “When I won..my sister and brother used to sleep down here. So when I wake up screaming they could come up to me. And then in the Capitol I was NEVER alone and as soon as I was…Cash would come in. She’d hold me, tell me how sorry she was that she let me become a victor, that she didn’t stop me from trying to go to the games. And then, god, once I had Marvel, he practically moved in and he slept me and I actually felt safe. I could sleep. Even back when we were just friends…he’d let me sleep in his room in the Capitol, he was never touchy or pushy or anything. He just let me sleep and sometimes he’d hold me and it was the best sleep I had since I won.” Glimmer wipes at the tears again, ignoring how messy she had to look right now. It was her own kitchen and really what did she have left to lose? Glimmer rambles on, “And you two are here and so I try to sleep and it isnt working as well as it used to and in thirteen I was so afraid every time I heard someone was in the hall that they were going to come in and —“

“When was the last time you slept, Glimmer? Actually slept?” Clove eases, sliding her a dish towel to use to clear the tears from her eyes. “You have to be exhausted.”

“Probably the games, funny enough. Weird that I felt safe enough there but- it is what it is. I tried in Thirteen! And here! it’s just…I can still feel their hands on my skin a-and feel them breathing on my neck and hear their voices and the sound of their feet coming to get me. If I fall asleep they’re there taunting me and grabbing me and-and-and!“ Glimmer continues to recount her nightmares and real life horrors, her breath catching in her throat and coming out in heaving, panicked, desperate gasps. “I just don’t see what the point of all this was. I don’t have anyone and I’m terrified in my own house and my parents are gone and what did I survive it all for if I’m going to be alone?”

“You aren’t going to be alone. You aren’t, and you can stay with someone or something but, God Glimmer. Out of all of us, all of the things we have gone through, you Glimmer deserve a happy ending. You deserve to feel safe and loved and god, Glimmer, you deserve to be happy.” Clove finally grabs at her arm, gently squeezing her forearm. “You are safe, Glimmer. And no one gets to hurt you ever again. I promise, Glimmer. You are going to be happy.”

Glimmer…does not learn how to make pasta that day.

Ten minutes of egg and flour stuck to her fingers is enough to send her back to the verge of tears and back to a safe distance away where she instead watches only.

Once the dough is chilling and the sauce is stewing, they retreat to the living area, sprawled out on the baby pink couches.

They sit in comfortable silence while the sauce cooks, Glimmer curled up on the foot of the couch, Clove outstretched on the other end with a book of District One history spread out in her lap.

It’s peaceful. Comfortable. Safe.

When Clove notices the Glimmer has fallen asleep, she grabs the fur throw blanket from the back of the couch and tosses it over her friend. Never in her life had she planned to care for some random victor girl from District One, with enough trauma and abuse in her short life for all of them combined, but here she was. War, she supposed, changed the way you see the world.

She doesn’t even need to call the boys in for dinner like a mother calling for her kids to come in at sundown, because like the bloodhounds men tend to be, they all but run through the glass back door like the children they never got to be once the smell of dinner reaches the outdoors.

“Clove? Clove, are you cooking? Do I smell food?” Marvel slips in the door first, literally just edging Cato out to get in before him. “Holy mother of god, that's food. I can SMELL the spice, there's salt in it isn’t there. You’re a fucking saint.”

“You’re a moron.” Cato rolls his eyes, but pushes Marvel out of the way just so he can beat him to the island. “…there is salt and stuff right?”

“You’re also a moron.” It’s Clove’s turn to roll her eyes instead, as she fishes a single pasta noodle out of the water to try it. “If i remember correctly you did talk about my cooking every day for weeks…”

“Months.” Glimmer chimes in as she makes her appearance. It’s only been a couple of hours since she fell asleep on the couch but even the brief nap has her looking noticeably better and more rested. “Every day for months.”

Clove catches Glimmer (but not Cato) off guard with how fast she moves when she reaches out to grab Marvel’s wrist as he goes to dip a spoon into the sauce. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Clove, I'm serious,this is the best moment I've had in months, let me have this. I need something good in my life.” Marvel half pleads, and the tired tone in his voice paired with the exhaustion behind his eyes is all that it takes before Clove is releasing his wrist and turning away.

“Do NOT go in twice, I will cut off your fingers.” She threatens and has to nearly slap Cato’s fingers away from the pasta noodles where they are cooling. “You two are like fucking children.”

“Oh my god.” Comes from Marvel, but it sounds somewhere between a cry and a gasp. “Clove this is the best thing i’ve had-maybe ever. Maybe that's the war trauma but-” Ignoring her threats he risks it for another dip, and then steps immediately a few steps out of her reach. “Can you stay here? Seriously, can we keep you? Cato you can stay too, if that helps.”

Marvel slides to the other side of the island, safely out of reach of all three of them as he debates just dipping a coffee cup and drinking the sauce. “For fucks sake, Cato, kiss her. Or Glimmer, you do it. I don’t care. One of you..just..appreciate her.”

“I’ll still kill you.” Cato warns, but he is slightly distracted by the handfuls of fresh pasta he is dropping into his mouth. “Clove is very appreciated, thank you very themuch.”

“.....are you crying?” Glimmer leans onto the counter, propping her chin in her hand as she outright smirks at her once boyfriend. There's the spark of light behind her eyes that Snow had snuffed out long ago starting to glow just a little again.

“No!” Marvel defends himself indignantly, but they all hear the sniffle and the stifled“......maybe a little.”

I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want just not home

Two months after their initial arrival in One, at the end of the second great war, after months of Clove feeding them, many tears from Glimmer at their goodbye, and promises of continued communication under the new mechanisms and options– phones communications, along with travel between districts, were allowed once again– Clove, Cato, Brutus, and Enobaria were on their train home.

Maybe it was irony, or maybe it was fate, but they take the incredibly short trip home on the same train they had come to the Capitol on in their prior games. Neither had ever noticed how the high speed trains went from One to Two in under half an hour, but then again, why would they have paid attention when they were young invincible victors with the entire world at their fingertips?

Still, even a twenty seven minute train ride feels like absolute eternity when you do not know what waits for you on the other end.

She is sitting as she always has on these trips– curled up with her back against his chest, settled between his legs, head resting on his shoulder. Her fingers snake up to where his arm is resting on the back of the couch, and she laces her fingers in with his.

Clove sighs as her eyes flutter shut, choosing not to watch the passage of destroyed buildings, burned farms, and mass civilian graves. There was a time in her life where no amount of bloodshed or the loss of life made her bat an eye— it was what they were trained for— but now…something about it made her stomach turn.

“It doesn’t feel like we’re going home.” Cato mumbles into the crown of her head, sliding his other hand firmly around her waist and holding her tighter to him. “It doesn’t feel like we even have one.”

“I don’t think we do.” Clove twists in his arms just a little so that she can see his face and languidly brings her free hand up to graze along his jawline. “I mean, we have a house, but I don’t think anyone will want to see us. Exiled to Victor’s Village ..” Her nails scratch along the planes of his skin gently, as she cranes her neck back to really look at him.

She has spent over half of her life looking at him, learning with him, and ultimately the last six loving him. Looking at him now, though, it’s almost like seeing him through new eyes.

Scars that the capitol would never take from him along his arms from retraining, golden blonde hair that had grown out enough it reached nearly to his eyelashes, the brightest sky blue eyes that harbored exhaustion far beyond that of a twenty one year old man.

And yet. It almost felt new to look at this man right now, in the same position on the same train they had been in time and time again.

It was new to see him in a world without The Hunger Games.

In a world where they would not wake up day to day to train the next class of tribute children, a world where they would not mentor victor and victor to parade home with pride to their district. A world where they would not raise their own children to volunteer for the games, where they would sacrifice them with a smile on their faces for the glory of being the parents of their own victor child, or pretend it did not shatter them to lose that same glorified baby to the games because they wouldn’t want to raise anything less than ideal little victors.

There was a version of them, somewhere, that dedicates the rest of their lives to the Hunger Games.

This is not that version of them. Not anymore.

Maybe it is because she knows what the life of a victor truly holds now. She learned in the confessions of Finnick, in the strangled screams of Glimmer in the middle of the night. She learned in the stories of Johanna, in the depravity of Haymitch. She learned in the desperation of Katniss, the destruction of Peeta. She learned of it in the loss of her mother.

She learns of a different life of a Victor, now. In the disapproving, but secretly adoring, looks from Enobaria when Cato carries her across a room. In the appreciative murmurs of Brutus, when he has pancakes with chocolate chips before him. In the updates on Annie’s growing family, in Marvel’s silly, stupid, but nonetheless endearing jokes.

Above all else she learns of it in the love of Cato, who saw her at the lowest shell of herself, and loved her even still.

Cato raises an eyebrow at her, shaking her just a little. “You’re thinking of something.” It’s his turn to bring a hand to her face, unwinding from her waist so he can tilt her chin up to meet his eyes more properly. “The corners of your lips twitch when you’re thinking too hard.”

Clove smiles gently, allowing the corners of her mouth to come to a soft grin. “I was just thinking about the last time we were on this particular train. On our way to the Quell. I didn’t think we’d be on our way back like this.”

“I also thought we were only leaving that arena in pine boxes. I didn’t think I’d be coming home. I never thought we’d come home together alive. ” He nods, looking past her rather than at her as he recollects the feelings and emotions of that day, leaving their district for what they expected to be the last time. Their days were numbered, or so they had every reason to believe.

For the first time, maybe in the entirety of their short lives, that was no longer the case.

Clove stretches both her arms out to wrap them behind his neck, relaxing fully and truly into his arms. “Is it crazy to say it feels like we won?”

The station is barren and silent when the train stops. There is no great crowd to welcome home the newest victor this time, no officials to celebrate them.

And yet, when the four of them are back on the train platform, surrounded by the rubble of what was once the greatest district in the country, there has never been a sweeter homecoming.

My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you

The walk home is harrowing. Two months of cleanup had barely touched the majority of the evidence of the violence, especially along the bases of the mountain, where the various villages had to stack their dead. Slowly but surely they had been transported back to their towns to properly be buried under the traditions of each of the different villages.

That, of course, was just for the bodies that had even been recovered.

Nearly half of District Two’s population was unaccounted for, and reconstruction efforts had only barely begun to move the piles of rocks that represent the rubble of what was once towering buildings and neighborhoods full of homes.

The true carnage of the war, the gravity of the loss in this district alone was yet to be understood and tallied. Cato cannot say a word on the walk home, as every time he thinks about the bodies of his parents and sister rotting away under the ash of two, his throat feels like it is going to close on him. Clove by extension says nothing either, only threading her arm around his, holding that same arm with her other hand. There are no words to negate the pain of loss, to ease the ache of the unknown.

The gate to Victor’s Village is somehow perfectly intact, and from what they can see beyond, so are the pristine lines of ornate houses. A layer of ash covers the ground like fallen snow, and the air feels unseasonably cold up here. It is as if the ghosts of the victors, the families, all of the dead haunt these gates, encasing them in a blanket of melancholy as a reminder that they are the survivors yet again.

The chill especially wraps around Clove, sending an ache deep to her joints, a reminder that while she is a survivor, she was a victim, too. They have survived but they do not come home unscathed, they do not come home the victors they left as.

There are lights on in the two houses across the street from their own, and the reminder of life of their mentors is one of the only calming thoughts they can cling to.The rest of the houses sit empty, stale air circulating through them with no victors left to call them home. There is no evidence that there was once life in these houses, no shoes on the porch, no watering cans in the yards. Just like that what was once the fullest victors village has become a ghost town.

The decision to come back had not been an easy one. District One was in a far better condition, and frankly, none of them were quite ready for life on their own after so much time relying on each other for company and sanity during the war. They didn’t even really have motivation to come back– what did they have waiting behind for them. Eventually the announcement came – much to the dismay of many many many citizens– that the surviving Victors would continue to receive monthly stipends (albeit not near as much as pre-war days) as reparation for the torture and violence inflicted on them at the hands of the prior government ever since their victory. It made it easier to know that upon their return they weren’t going to have to assimilate into societal roles (and for Glimmer, the real relief came that she would never have to work in retail in one).

Ultimately, the decision to come back was their own. This place, despite the horrors, the violence, the brutality…it was their home. Maybe it was those things that made it home.

They stand in the charred grass at the very edge of their yard, Clove with her head resting against his body, Cato running his hand over her arm in an attempt to warm her body to ward off the ghosts of pain that the cold brings on. He rests his head on top of hers as they look at the grandiosity of the home they left behind, still frozen in time, as a relic of the time they were eighteen and in love, feeling invincible.

“Hey…babe?” Cato wrinkles his brows together, lifting his head from atop hers. “Do you have a key?”

Well of course they didn’t have a key– it wasn’t like they had considered leaving one under the doormat on their way to their certain deaths.

“Fuck.” Clove laughs against his arm, burying her face in the dark wool of his coat. Her laugh is contagious to him, and he’s shaking his head with a laugh not too long after her. Out of all the obstacles that should have kept them from ever crossing the threshold of their home again, they had not thought to anticipate a key being one.

She flashes him a playful smirk, raising her eyebrows teasingly. “Are we going to break into our own house?”

Sure, Cato could probably just go through the front door. Of course with the current state of Two, that door would not be replaced because a couple of kids broke into their own house.

“We left the bedroom window unlocked.” Cato reminds her, catching her off guard as he grabs her by the waist and throws her over his shoulder. “I mean.. I hope we left the window unlocked.”

Clove nearly shrieks as she ends up in the air, his hands giving taunting pinches on the very top of her thighs as he fully carries her to the back yard. The grass is overgrown in some places, burnt in others, Clove notices as she stares at the ground from her place on his shoulder.

Cato surprises Clove again when he flips her from his shoulder to his arms, one hand under her knees and the other under her shoulders as he cradles her against him. “Okay. You’re going in.”

It’s not even surprising how easily he lifts her to a standing position on his hands, how he can push her towards the bedroom window with such ease. All that to say, Clove's short arms and legs do not make it any easier, with her fingertips barely able to reach the window screen to pry it off. When she does she sends it flying down behind her, and only from the groan she hears from Cato can she tell it hit him. It is using all the dexterity of her little fingers that she is able to slide the window up and open.

“Got it!” Clove calls down to him, and lightly twists her ankle in his palm. “You gotta throw me a little.”

“I can’t throw you through the window–” Cato scoffs, shaking his head adamantly. “No way in hell.”

“Cato I can’t reach, You need to just give me a little boost-”

“A little boost i’m already holding you above my head–”

“Cato! A little toss!” Clove insists, jolting her foot with a little annoyance. “I’m serious, we need to get in–”

“Fine! But if you bust your face open don’t blame me.” Cato grumbles, and grabs her by the bottom of her shoes. “Okay, ready?”

Clove nods, already bracing her hands on either side of the window. When he gives her the little bit of a toss (more than a little, considering the strength he doesn’t even realize he exerts sometimes), Clove is able to flip in through the window.

All Cato can hear is a slight scream from his wife as she tumbles into the house.

“Clove…babe…you alright?” Cato calls up, an edge of panic infiltrating his cool tone. “Baby…”

Clove appears in the window, resting her elbows on the window ledge as she smiles down at him with a coy smirk. “You look like you’re here to beg me to sneak out.”

“If I remember correctly it was me who had the house first..” Cato responds to her smirk with his own, running a hand over the side of his hair. “Will you let me in? I didn’t throw you through the window just so I could still break down the door.”

“Patience, patience, Cato.” Clove teases, but the smile on her face could keep Cato going for the rest of his life. “I’m coming, meet you out front.”

Cato beats her to the front door. Patience has never been his strength, and frankly, it’s fucking cold and she is taking a weirdly long amount of time before she comes down. “Clove open the door, I'm not playing around.”

When the door does swing open to Clove, somehow already changed into one of his shirts and one of his shirts only, she greets him with a dark smirk, looking up at him from thick lashes. “Welcome home.”

The thin layer of dust that covers every surface in their house is a problem for another time.

Later…after.. Clove sits between his legs in the bath, the water as hot as they can possibly get it, soothing every ache in the crooks of her spine. His fingers trace imaginary shapes over the back of her hand, her head against his chest and shoulder. Hot water had been one of the biggest losses in Thirteen. Clove had imagined this particular moment for months. So much so that it was the first- well…second– thing they did once they were back in their home.

Their names were still carved into the bedpost, their laundry still in pre-sorted piles on the bathroom floor. Clove’s skin yearns for the softness of the clean sheets they had left behind (though maybe they were not so clean with the dust and ash layer on every surface). In the morning, Clove will treat herself to tea with the rest of the honey in the cabinet above the sink and to the left.

“You know, I think Enobaria had the spare key.” Cato realizes with his lips on Clove’s neck, and he deserves the light smack to the side of his head once he says it.

“I do not want to think about Enobaria right now, thank you very much.” Clove mumbles, tilting her neck so he can have more more more as she feels his other hand wrapping around her waist and sliding lower.

“We made it home, sweetheart.” Cato kisses into the skin of her neck, pulling her somehow even closer. “We’re home.”

“We are home.” Clove repeats, but the emphasis she places changes the meaning of the statement. Yes, they are home. But they are home.

He is hers and she is his.

They are home.

And If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were still around.

Home is not as idyllic as they may have remembered, but it was home.

The thunderstorms that once lulled her to sleep, jolted her awake with a racing heart. The sound of rain no longer rain, but too identical to the distant sound of bombs in their homeland. When she ends up sitting on the porch in the middle of the night, forcing herself to face it, she is always joined by a heavy blanket being draped around her shoulders, and Cato sitting wordlessly beside her. What they don’t know is that in a district not too far away, another girl screams herself awake from nightmares of the past, and is joined by the innocent affection of a man who slides into bed next to her only to sleep, who holds her only with the intention to comfort her while expecting nothing in return.

The cold hurts more than she imagined it would. It is not just the recollection of nearly freezing to death that frightens her anymore, it is the pain in her body. Their home is somehow always chilly, her wrists and shoulders and back always aching fiercely. Cato knows her, he has her entire life, and is always adamant to add another blanket to the bed or turn up the heat even when it leaves him himself sweating.

Brutus and Enobaria still let themselves in multiple days a week for breakfast.

A few weeks into their return, a knock on their front door long before breakfast startles them both. He’s sitting at the kitchen island admiring the concentration on her face as she carves into something she will undoubtedly transform into something fantastic in an hour or so.

“Who comes to see us?” Clove raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t look away from her task before her. “Enobaria and Brutus have never knocked, and you know Glimmer and Marvel couldn’t be awake this early..”

“They’ll leave.” Cato shrugs, reaching out a hand to nab some of the intricately carved strawberries Clove had already finished with. “Ignore it.”

The knocking only increases in frequency and volume, and Cato rolls his eyes as he pushes himself away. “I’ll get rid of them.”

Clove can’t wipe away the smirk that rises as she watches him walk away, all shirtless with sweatpants slung so low on his hips that it wouldn’t take much effort from her when he comes back to–

She hears the door swing open but does not hear him scare anyone off with a threat, nor does she hear anything at all. “Babe?” Clove calls out behind him, wiping off the blade of her knife with a towel before she lays it down on her cutting board. “Cato?” She calls again, quickly covering the distance from the kitchen to the front door. Cato isn’t even in the doorway, and Clove doesn’t know why that makes her heart race.

Once she makes it to the door, to see what is waiting on the porch, her heart fully stops.

Wrapped around Cato’s torso are the long baby limbs of his baby sister, little arms clinging around his neck, long blonde curls covering where her face is absolutely buried in his neck. He’s got both arms around the girl, one hand holding her head to his shoulder. Immediately to his left, with her hand on his arm, is his mother. War was unkind to her, as the woman Clove once looked up to and yearned to emulate in some ways looked more fragile than ever.

“Hi Clove, Honey.” Cato’s mother greets her with an exhausted, bone tired smile. There is a lack of light in those blue eyes, a sorrow Clove hopes never to imagine.

Clove furrows her eyebrows, tilting her head just a little and it is enough of a question for the older woman to perceive it.

His mother takes in a sharp breath and shakes her head very quickly in the negative and it is all Clove needs to see to know that this is it, this is all that remains of Cato’s family. A mother and a sister.

“I missed you, so so much kiddo.” Cato whispers to the girl, gently running his hand over the back of her head over and over again.

Clove steps forward and gently places a hand on the taller woman’s arm, ever so slightly squeezing. “I’m so sorry.”

The blonde woman presses her lip together and nods, taking her arm off of her son and instead wrapping them around Clove in a hug. “I’m glad to see you again. I don’t think he would have survived it without you.”

“I wouldn’t have either.” Clove admits, allowing herself to squeeze a little tighter to the woman, analyzing her change in body structure.

“He’s been gone a long time.” His mother informs them both, patting Clove’s cheek gently before she goes back to wrap her son and little daughter in her arms.

“Where have you been?” Cato gets out, his voice nearly cracking as he looks down on his mother. “Where did you go?”

“We’ve just been on the move, huh baby?” His mom brushes Cora’s little arm, pulling her attention from where she is hiding in her brother’s arms. “We have just moved constantly, no one could catch us if they didn’t know where we were.”

“Is home…” Cato starts, unable to force the rest of the words out into the world.

“Gone. long gone.” His mother explains, as Cora raises her head and latches eyes with Clove.

“You can stay in my house.” Clove immediately offers out, waving slightly at Cora. “Hi, sunshine.”

Immediately Cora lifts her little blonde head and practically wriggles out of Cato’s arms, nearly running into her once she has her little feet on the ground. With his arms free Cato wraps his arms fully around his mother in a hug, and Clove can see the way he melts into his mother;s arms like a little boy

Clove initially wants to kneel to Cora’s level, to become eye to eye with her. However, this six year old child is nearly to her shoulder’s already, and Clove is taken back by how tall this little girl has become. “You’ve gotten so big!”

“I’m as tall as you!” She cheers, and this bright angel of a child wraps her arms around her sister in law. “I missed you, Clove.”

“We missed you too, Cora Jade.” Clove promises, leaning down just a little to kiss the top of her head. “I think you’re going to stay in the house next to us for a little while!” She can no longer scoop her up, with how tall and gangly she has become in the last year. Clove tries anyway, scooping Cato’s sister to sit on her hip despite the fact they are nearly the same size. Cora immediately relaxes against her, and somehow, some way, Clove feels like something deep inside her relaxes with relief, too.

And though I can’t recall your face, I’ve still got love for you

For kids who had been trained to kill, who have taken lives, they were more surrounded by death than ever before. They hadn’t expected the influx of funeral services and war memorials they would be expected to attend.

His father had of course been the most painful, with the heart broken sobs of his baby sister, asking when she’d see her daddy again. It was devastating for Cato, too, who had to learn how to be an adult man in a world without games without his father to guide him. The loss had hit him harder than he dared to admit.

At the end of what felt like the tenth funeral service they felt obligated to attend, this one of an old classmate and her younger sister, while Cato played nice with another ex-classmate Clove found herself wandering to a part of the cemetery that she had never allowed herself to cross into.

It was sacred ground, really, treated with utmost respect. Perfect lines of simple limestone grave markers stretched in perfect lines of 25, save for the last row. No tribute came home to be buried from seventy five. The victors, they were in a separate area even still, with lavish, over the top headstones. But here, in a well maintained corner of the District Two cemetery, rest every single tribute who did not make it to victor status.

The boy from her games did not even have solid grass on top of his grave plot yet, and the ceaseless bombing did nothing to aid in that process. The girl from Cato’s games is a little further grown over, with a thin but respectable layer of fresh grass that grows in all directions. She can remember some of the others, mildly. The boy who lost against Glimmer, the girl who Johanna took out.

It is not her own peers, though, that interests Clove.

She weaves through years and years of games, of either single or double headstones from every single Hunger Games, from 75 to 62, and finally to the one she had avoided the entirety of her life.

Six feet below her feet was the remaining body of Sevina Kentwell, being the closest Clove has been to her mother in nearly eighteen years.

It is a simple marker, like all of the others. With the name of the tribute, the date of their birth, and what place they came in their games. Somehow, seeing first runner up, though she had known it the entirety of her life, manages to rip her heart from her chest, coating the white limestone with the spray of hot, wet blood.

Or at least it’s how it feels.

There is no mention of the life Sevina had prior to the games. No mention of the daughter she left behind, how she was a mother who loved deeply and to the last day of her life, how she was the daughter of a cruel woman who only became that way after the loss of her child.

Clove does not know when exactly she ends up on her knees, kneeling before the stone that is no taller than her in this position.

It is when she notices the little symbol on every stone– some knives, some stars, some hearts– that she realizes there is some small personalization that makes these tributes people. Children.

Clove’s right hand reaches out, shaking just enough that she notices, as she traces her pointer finger over the etching of her mother’s name. It is then, as she reaches the I, that she realizes the dot over the initial is a clover.

The weight of a war, of physical torture, of two Hunger Games, the destruction of her home, and a loveless, empty childhood hits her. If she were not already on her knees she would have fallen to them, as it feels like she is the one who just had the breath slammed out of her against that cornucopia.

The death of her grandmother meant next to nothing. She had openly spoken out against Clove after her appearance in Two, proudly sharing the narrative that she was a traitor and that her daughter died because of this mistake of a child. Yes, she raised Clove and turned her into a victor with her cold demeanor and cruelty, and for that Clove had no choice but to be thankful, but still, she did not feel a great loss at the news of her death by rebels in Two.

She thought nothing of the news that her father and his entire new family also died in the roles of loyalists. He had been dead to her long before the war.

The entirety of her family would die with Clove. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in sixty years, but there would be no one left to remember any of them after her inevitable death.

Maybe that was the gift she could give to the ghost of her mother– the erasure of the people who treated them so cruelly.

That of course meant the erasure of Sevina Kentwell and Clove herself, as well.

While Clove had spent the entirety of her life to become a victor, to carve her place in history, right now the idea of slipping into anonymity and living a mundane enough life to not be remembered didn’t sound like the worst ending in the world.

Sevina Kentwell died nearly eighteen years ago, but somehow it hits Clove like it is the first time all over again. This feeling– the elephant on her chest, the choking, gagging sobs that she could not control, the tears that felt like burning salt on her cheeks– may as well have been from the little girl whose mother never came back for her.

She felt an overwhelming need to speak out loud– to the air, to the universe, to whatever could hear her– that she couldn’t really explain. It felt silly, to just speak into thin air, and yet she doesn’t have it in there to stop herself.

Clove wipes her tears on the back of her sleeves, rocking back to sit on her heels. She pushes her hair behind her ears, before she crosses her arm over her chest, tucking her hands along her hips on opposite sides of her body.

“I’ve always kind of wondered what was so wrong with me as a baby, if I was so unlovable of a little girl that it was just..so easy to leave me. Grandma always told me thats the case…that I’ve been fucked up since I was born and that it was easy to leave a crazy little girl. That the risk of dying was better than having to spend eighteen years with me. I believed it, too.” Clove leans her head back, squeezing evergreen eyes closed and taking a deep, shaky breath to the sky, desperate for cool morning air to fill her lungs and quench the burning that ravages the back of her throat. “I can’t remember what you look like. I’ve seen pictures but I can’t remember. I don’t remember the sound of your voice, or what it was like to be held by my mother.”

“I want to be angry and I want to blame you for everything that is just so fucked up about me, but I don’t know. I probably wouldn’t have been sent to training if you were a victor, huh?” Clove sniffles heavily, the skin of her face burning from the continued assault of tears that just cannot cease to flow. “And then I wouldn’t be a Victor..And then I never would have met Cato.”

She isn’t quite sure she can believe it, though it is rational. If she had not needed to win the games herself, she never would have been sent to training to become a victor, and by extension would have never crossed paths with Cato.

There is another part of herself though, the far less rational part, the part that let her fall for her training partner, that believes in any universe, in any version of reality, some way somehow, they would always find each other (though that she would never say out loud).

“I married him, you know. I’ve never said it out loud.. I’ve never told anyone about it.” Clove whispers to the universe, words barely falling past her lips. “But I did. I guess I wasn’t so terrible and unlovable after all, or maybe I was, and he’s a little terrible and fucked up too. We’re made for each other in that way. He’s…the love of my life.” She finds that her right hand is twisting at her left ring finger, the empty digit lacking any physical or public reminder of such love. It didn’t matter. They knew. “Enobaria took really really good care of me, too. Like she had promised you. I don’t know if I would have survived without her. Both literally as a baby, but also in the games.”

She exhales shakily. Her breathing is weighty and consuming, as she feels her throat tightening with the burning feeling of exhaustion. “I wish I had a mom these days, not that you’d know what a world without the games is like anyway…but it would be nice. To have a mom for the rest of my life….Whatever it looks like.”

Clove rests her body weight on her hands in front of her, steadying herself as she catches her breath and regains her composure. She raises her left hand again, branching herself on her mother’s headstone so she can push herself to a standing position. She brushes off the grass on her knees, smoothing down the skirt of her formal black dress. Digging the heels of her hand to stop the tears, she is unconcerned with the fact her makeup is certainly smeared around her eyes. Clove takes a shaking, stabilizing breath, gently reaching down to pat the top of the rock.

“I miss my mom. I miss you, and I don’t even know you but I know that I love you.” Clove brushes her deep hair behind her shoulders, standing up straight like the victor she will forever be. She is all that is left of, and all that there will ever be, of the woman who eternally rests deep under her feet. “I owe you, quite literally, for my life. In all senses of it. So uh..thank you. For ruining your life to give me mine.”

Clove takes one final shaky breath, craning her neck to the sky to stop the flow of tears. She wipes at her cheeks quickly, before shoving her hands in the pocket of her coat. Clove weaves back through the tribute corner, and before she even reaches the little gate she sees Cato leaning against one of the metal posts, one ankle crossed over the other, hands in the pockets of his own coat.

As soon as she’s within reach his arm is around her shoulders, using his hand to smooth down the hair at the top of her head before he kisses the crown of her hair gently and swiftly. Of course he can see the tracks of tears, the pink tint under the field of freckles, but he doesn’t comment on it. This was a private moment for her.

“Ready to go home?” He pulls her in closer to his side, body heat warming her against the cool, rainy air.

“I think we have one more stop to make.”

Everything you lose is a step you take

The only thing left of the academy which they met, trained, and ultimately, became themselves is a set of chipped marble stairs. The grand archway is reduced to piles of rubble, the long stretch of the building that was once home rests in various piles of rocks and decay.

Their classmates were mostly dead, either after being forced into roles as peacekeeper soldiers or victims of various bombings. There were no more dorms that they had once snuck around, no more rooms full of knives or spears or dummies to use as target practice. There were no more closets to sneak off too or bad showers with cold water and low water pressure.

All that was left of their childhood were the very steps they sat on now.

Cato sits beside Clove, hand in hand.

“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives in this building.” Clove admits, brushing the hand that is not interlaced with his over the remnants of the grand staircase. “I imagined we’d be the most successful mentors, well, ever.”

“Spend our lives in the building? I thought we’d own it. Rename it to the Kentwell-Hadley Training Academy, then we could claim every District Two victor forever. It would be like our legacy.” Cato teases, but the longing edge in his voice tells Clove that no, that is not entirely a joke. He clears his throat, shifting so his chin was sitting on top of the crown of her head instead. “Do you ever think about the day we met?”

“Yeah, you broke my collarbone.” Clove smirks, craning her neck so she can look him in the eyes. They would never be back in the place they met, in the place she realized she loved this arrogant, temperamental boy. This, right here, was as close as it would get. “I thought we were going to hate each other forever…that we’d go out killing each other in the most violent, showy way we could.

“And you stabbed me!” Cato indignantly nudges her with his shoulder, but brings his other hand up to cradle her face in his. I never thought, in a million years, we’d be lucky enough to be right here, Clove.”

“Alive?” Clove teases, but takes the opportunity to lean in and press her forehead to his. “On the rubble of the academy?” As much as she teases, she knows what he means. He means hand in hand, far from the enemies they were the day they met. He means the love they share.

“Together. I never thought we’d get to be together.” Cato admits, leaning in somehow closer still, so that their noses also could touch. “All this shit Clove, and the only constant in my entire life, from the time we were actual children, has been you. It has always been you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not getting rid of me any time soon.” She promises, wrapping her arm around his neck so that she can pull her upper body flush to his as she finally finally finally connects her lips with his. Clove melts in his arms as he fully wraps his arms around her and holds her as close as he humanly can to him. When she pulls back, resting her nose against his once again, she laughs. “What do we do now with the rest of our lives?”

“I could say each other–” Cato taunts, but laughs as he gives the slightest shrug before she can refute him. “I don’t really know. We’ll figure it out, like we always do.”

“Together?” Clove teases, leaning back so she can fully lock eyes, green with blue, as a coy little smile creeps onto her face. “I love you. More than I loved the games.”

“Aren’t I special.” Cato soaks her in. Wet dark curls framing her face, freckles like constellations across her nose. If he got to see this for the rest of his life.. He’d die happy. Hopefully not for many many many years, but happy nonetheless.“I love you too. More than anything.”

“You just have to one up me..” Clove rolls her eyes playfully, but she does not actually move from her place in his arms. “You know, if you want to actually get married again, you do have to ask again.”

“Are you going to say yes?” He pinches her hip playfully, causing her to squirm in his arms which he uses as the opportunity to grab her even tighter.

“Depends on the day.” She warns, but grabs his face in both her hands immediately after. She can see it all in his eyes. The nine year olds they once were, the twenty one year olds they are now. Their entire past lies crumbled beneath them, but with her arms around his shoulders and his around her hips the entirety of their future rests in their arms.

All the uncertainty of this new world, it didn’t matter. The future, whatever it would be, would be okay. Whatever their future held, would be just fine, so long as it held them.

Cato and Clove.

“Always and forever, Cato. It’s you and me, always and forever.”

I had the time of my life with you.

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femaletwstsupremacy · 9 months

Note

i have just a little request if you dont mind, we have fem idia enjoyer of woman and yuri manga (the cutesy slice of life ones like failed princess, monolouge woven for you, whisper me a love song ((just somethin sweet ya know)) and idia is hopelessly pining for the main girl type, ortho being the best little sister invites us over and idk just a little idea 4 u

"𝙈𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝘼𝙪𝙧𝙖!"

✦ Content – Idia being a simp, Ortho being a sweetheart, kinda did a reverse isekai plot here, Idia is Shen Yuan (From Scum Villain) coded, reader came from a world where technology isn't all that advanced, Reader has a personality, reader is gn but reader being feminine was in mind while writing.

Author's Note: Waaa, I had so much fun playing with this idea anon. Thank you for sending this in! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ It's not exactly like the request so I apologize for that. But! I absolutely support Fem!Idia yuri enjoyer, I am one as well after all (With a side of bl fan in there but shhhh)

Idia was many things, a loner, a genius with wasted talent, a weirdo, a curse. But she could care less about those, what do they know about her anyway? It's not like half of those people who talked behind her back actually talked to her. But if there was one thing she could proudly call herself, it would be that she's an avid yuri fan. Slice of life? Fantasy? Mystery? Yandere? She'll read it as long as it's yuri! (And if it has at least a decent plot, otherwise she'd either simply throw it out or start hating in the reviews if she absolutely despised it.)

The lighthearted and giddy feeling she gets in her chest every time she reads is something she just can't get enough of. But once she finishes the absolute masterpieces of the genre, she only has the leftover scraps left to read. Some of them aren't that bad, she could bear reading through with it and some of them even got her hooked. But some others were absolute trash. With nothing but fetishization and not even a pinch of genuine affection between the main couple.

By that time Idia almost debated leaving the genre altogether but decided to just wait. Wait for something good to actually come by, wait for an astounding masterpiece that could even make her slack jawed, wait for some of her few favorites to update, and so she did.

She waited, and waited, and waited. Until finally, a new manga had just released, taking the whole genre by storm. And as a connoisseur of yuri manga, how could she pass up this opportunity? Especially when she'd been waiting for so long. Besides, most of the reviews are fairly positive and by first impression it doesn't seem like some trashy manga that uses all the clichés and most popular tropes of the book. Unlike some that Idia had read. So she trusts that it will be a worthwhile read.

And worthwhile it was, Idia was absolutely hooked. It wouldn't be an understatement to say that this was a masterpiece. The plot? The setting? The tropes? and most importantly, the characters. (Did she mention the characters yet?) were all meticulously woven together into the perfect web to catch any unsuspecting readers into it's trap. Idia is no exception. But seriously, it's amazing. Even if it just released, it was already manga of the year in her heart. In fact, it should be the manga of the year in everyone's heart!

But you especially have taken her heart, kicking off any and all candidates that could have taken your place. Sitting beautifully in the throne of her heart. You were the main girl of the story, kind, pretty, and clever but didn't take anyone's shit for nothing. Your character was the exact one that Idia favors the most, so it was inevitable that you became her first and only favorite above the rest. Idia gathered anything she could get about you, analyzing your character under a microscope. Memorizing every small detail, no matter how insignificant. This also applies to your character arcs and relationships, causing her to make lengthy essays about it in the comments without fail.

Other times, when the author decides to shove tragedy onto you that she believes is far too much Idia would instantly go into a bout of outrage, her hair turning into a raging sea of red. The scale of her rage is clear to see if one were to read the scathing comment she had left. Don't they know that it's far to early? Your character isn't developed enough for this! She'd argue.

But usually, she would have calmed down in the following chapters. It's almost as if the author read her comments and decided to give you reprieve and a few wholesome moments in between as a peace offering. But that's most likely her imagination coming up with wild ideas on miniscule chances.

Months pass by, and before she knew it, it was already the final chapter of the manga. The manga she had spent hours mulling over, the manga that she collected a whole stock of merch for, the manga where she felt more than she usually does in real life, the manga you were in.

Idia stares at her screen, unblinking. The bold text of the final lines of the chapter staring back at her, the light of the screen almost painful as it illuminates the darkness of her room. Casting shadows along her face, making her look even more gloomy than she is. She doesn't know what is it exactly that she feels, it's like her heart feels full but at the same time has holes that leak out, causing a void of emptiness along with the full feeling.

It's strange, is this what it feels like when you get too attached to a piece of fiction? Idia wouldn't really know, she didn't get attached to much things in the first place anyway. But, she doesn't know what to think about it. It doesn't feel all that good, but it isn't all that bad either. Idia groans, burying her head into her hands.

Ugh, why does emotions have to be so damn difficult?

Idia can't believe this is happening. But the fact that you, in all your glory and grace, are right here, in her room, and gazing back at her is undeniable. Idia seriously questions if this was truly reality and she wasn't being delusional after so long of not having sleep and not eating properly. Which would have been the most logical explanation if you didn't look so real and lifelike. Especially when you stand there as depicted, eyes shining the same way it was drawn, actually breathing and are not just lines on paper.

When you quietly call out to her in confusion, Idia swears she'll see Hades in the next second because your voice is exactly as she imagined it-

"Uh hello? May I please know where I am?" You ask, slightly waving your hand in front of the strange girl's face – her hair being one of unusual blue flames that you've never seen before. The strange girl only jumps in response, letting out a surprised squeak. Scrambling to hide behind...a chair..? At least you think it's a chair.

The timid type huh, you can work with that. You put your hand back on your side, deciding to take a different approach so as to not frighten the poor girl more. Tentative, you leaned down to her level, purposely making your voice sound more soft and coaxing than usual, "Sorry about that, I'm kinda lost and it would really help me out if you could answer my questions, yeah?" The girls stares at you dumbly for a while, but your expression doesn't falter and eventually, she nods.

Another world? Manga character? currently in reality???? The revelation that the life you've lived was all a fabrication made from someone else's desires is a very hard pill to swallow. A bitter laugh escapes you as the strange girl – who had introduced herself as Idia – finishes her explanation. "So, you're saying that for my whole life, I've been living in some sick fairytale for the lot of you in 'reality' to watch?" You don't hide the bite in your tone, your frustration leaking out as if your body was filled with holes.

Idia squeaks, nervously clutching her hair – one that has swaying flames of azure – like an anchor that will keep her from sinking into the sea of your emotions. You sigh out, it's no use getting angry at someone who didn't have a hand in your creation. It's not like she had instigated anything that happened to you, she was just a viewer after all.

"Sorry, I got carried away. I didn't mean to get so aggressive." You say apologetically, your frustration still hasn't gone away, you don't believe it would go away so quickly but right now being level headed was the better option.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

You lean your forehead onto your hand, regulating your breathing. For now, it would be a good time to gather more information...

You straighten up, clearing your throat in attempt to get Idia – who still hasn't raised her head in what you believe is fear – to look at you. It works, as she raises her gaze to look up at you. "Say, could you tell me more about this 'reality' of yours?"

Recovering from the shock of being a manga character was a long process. Thankfully, it seems your host was an accommodating one. Helping you adjust as best as she can. Though this world...has plenty of strange contraptions. You were scared out of your wits when Idia pressed a button and the square on her table started lighting up. The fact that everything in Idia's room is considered 'high-tech' doesn't help, But right after you've finally gotten over your shock the next thing you know there was a literal child that looked like the contraptions that appeared out of nowhere! Though, after your almost obliteration of Idia's room the child(?) was surprisingly friendly and humanlike despite your hostility in your first encounter. You've come to know the child as Ortho. You start to wonder if this world has a trend to name their children strange things...Other than that, she was an exact opposite of her sister, sweet, sociable, and cheerful. However, their differences don't seem to separate them in the least. In fact, they get along than most siblings you see. It got you feeling all warm and sentimental for a bit. But even then, they both at least one thing in common, and that's how cute they are. Now, it's a given that Ortho is cute. (Why wouldn't she be? Idia built her to look cute!) Though, Idia can also be – by equal measures – cute!

Cute enough to make you squeal and want to squish her cheeks. Oh, and the way her hair turns pink every time you get close...It's absolutely adorable! You never thought someone's hair could be so expressive! At one point your curiosity got the better of you. By impulse, you lightly stroked the azure flames. It didn't burn like what one would assume, rather it was similar to the feeling of warming your hands over a fire on a cold wintry night. Of course, when you do this Idia audibly squeaks and swivels from her seat to look at you. Embarrassment, it was common expression Idia made while with you. You guessed it was because you are her favorite character, the amount of pictures she has saved is already enough proof. You apologize to her but you're sure the teasing tilt to your tone doesn't make you convincing. Right, the longer you've stayed here, the less you cared about being convincing. This place is much more peaceful despite being worse according to Idia. As Idia starts to sputter at you, hair the pinkest you've ever seen it, you start to think that this type of life isn't so bad.

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juni-ravenhall · 5 months

Text

@centeris2 #sso's shilling cap is just.... annoying? in a way I can not articulate

its bc of both the cap being too low vs how much we need to save to pay for items (since 10k js items are common), and the lack of value per shilling for time spent in the game.

if we didnt have to save up to 10k often, and expensive items were only ~5k, the cap would be less of an issue bc you would be more likely to spend it earlier in smaller steps. (cap still might be too low tho.)

and in most other comparable games ive ever seen, the value of the (non-premium) currency per your playtime spent is much higher. you feel like you get a fair enough reward for how much time and energy you put into it. sso is completely different. you have to do a really boring, often buggy, random quest (like picking up trash around goldenleaf stables) and get 25 shillings for 2-3 minutes of playtime. or play meh quality races that also take ~2 minutes each for like 20js. none of them feel super exciting or challenging and therefore not all that enjoyable.

so when you frustratingly save up shillings way more slow and boring than in comparable games, and then you're hit with a "lol you couldve gotten 1000js more but you were over limit :) ", its more frustrating than in those other games where you can relatively easily and enjoyably go earn that value-per-playtime whenever you want to buy something.

me and yasmin also talked about this and she said, the other thing is that the shillings dont do anything to give you a leg up over others. you can't pay to win anything with shillings, aside from getting good tack/clothes for races (but this is accessible to everyone easily). and we dont have a player trading system etc. so if a player has 1 million shillings, it doesnt affect the game itself in any other way than that this person can A) buy more cosmetic items than others and feed their horse easily B) avoid having to buy sc from sse as often for event items that cost js or for stablecare.

it mostly feels like its a frustrating limit to push us to buy sc for stuff bc it takes too long to earn js and you cant save js over long periods of time. but other games have similar systems done better, without making the player feel like our playtime gives us almost nothing of value in the game.

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