#badly explained cw plots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sky-is-the-limit · 1 year

Text

"Mine."

Bi!Reader x Abby Anderson

Summary: Your friend, Abby, has issues with who you decided to share your first queer experience with and she decides to take matters into her own hands.

CW: Afab!Reader, Porn with little plot, NFSW content, Oral sex (receiving), Suggestive language.

Song recommendation: Slow Down - Chase Atlantic

WC: 3,223 words.

''Abby, stop! Can't you walk a little slower?!'' Short of breath, you gathered whatever energy was left in you, after what was probably the most embarrassing moment you had to endure so far in your lifetime, trying to catch up with Abby's long strides down the cold corridor.

One thing for sure, she was purposely making it a challenge for you to keep up with her.

''With Nora? Seriously Y/N?!'' Finally, she turned slightly the side of her face around for a second, her piercing blue eyes now a shade darker as she shot you a look of disbelief at that, letting out a dry laugh before shaking her head, scoffing.

Unbeknownst to you, your fate was sealed the moment you decided to be brave enough to experience something your soul had been longing for since you were old enough to understand what romance was and why it only seemed to be limited between a man and a woman.

It wasn't meant to happen. Neither you kissing Nora after her blatant advances in the gym's locker room nor Abby walking in as though your life was a badly written comedy and the entire scene was scripted perfectly to humiliate you.

''I'll explain if you stop running away from me!" Your heart pounded in it’s cage, rattling the bars that were your ribs as her pace was only rapidly increasing with each second, her soaked in sweat sleeveless tee stuck on her like a second skin.

''No need. What I walked in on was pretty self-explanatory.'' Her tone was more bitter than expected, a hint of jealousy behind every word she so acerbically punctuated at you.

Your initial thought, that her anger was due to you hiding such a significant part of your identity from her, vanished entirely. It was abnormal, how a person so close to you who happened to be so openly comfortable with her sexuality, was treating you in such manner.

The last two years allowed to you get to know a woman so kind and gentle in contrast of her intimidating physique, who immediately welcomed you and only gave you unconditional support and care in return of your friendship. It scared you that your intuition was screaming that there was more to this than she led on.

''I didn't mean for you to find out this way, I was-'' Your attempt to explain was cut short as she finally stopped outside her room, leading you to bump your front into her defined back, your fingertips lingering a bit longer on her shoulder blades.

''I just don't fucking get it.'' It wasn't frequent for Abby to behave so irritably, her milky freckled skin reddening with frustration, losing her calm composure for something that could easily be solved, if she would just let you explain.

Her fingers shuffled with her keys, agitatedly trying to find the right one so she can unlock the door. Every passing second was driving the both of you to insanity, for different reasons.

''That I happen to also like women? A bit rich coming from you, Abs.'' This was getting ridiculous and you made sure the tone of your voice conveyed that, spitting out every word with sarcasm and intent.

She finally unlocked the door, pushing it with such force that it guarantied to leave spots on the white wall of her bedroom before eventually turning her body around to face you.

''That you like her.'' Abby's tone dripped with scorn as she responded to your remark, her words carrying an edge sharper than a knife. Her eyes narrowed, a vertical wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows, lips pursed slightly with her arms crossed over her chest.

Her eyes seemed to pull you in, a gravitational force that you couldn’t resist and so unable to maintain eye contact, you drifted your gaze to the floor.

''It's not that, I- fucking hell.'' The words tumbled out of your mouth in a fast-paced torrent, echoing the racing thoughts within your mind.

Seeing that you weren’t going to get her to spit out the truth and leave her stubbornness aside, you sighed deeply, tugging her arm, beckoning her to follow you into her room without waiting for an invitation.

''I just wanted to.. I don't know, confirm my suspicions. That I might like women too and Nora.. was just there." You admitted, closing the door behind you. Her brows knitted together in a mixture of confusion and curiosity

''You never told me about.. your 'suspicions'.'' Abby frowned, tilting her head clearly awaiting for you to say more.

''I wanted to make sure first, you know.'' You watched her eyes study you for what seemed like an eternity. It raged through your veins, a wildfire you were ill-equipped to temper, let alone control.

''And?'' She muttered, her breath almost visibly lodged in her throat. You couldn't help but tore your eyes from hers, feeling your face heat up considerably.

''And my suspicions were correct, I guess.'' You mumbled, cheeks hot under her scrutiny. Abby's response to that was expressed under her breath, almost unintelligible but definitely annoyed.

''Stop with the fucking mumbling, Abby! If you have something to say to me then just say it.'' You finally snapped, every fiber of your being screaming with frustration.

''And it had to be her? You barely even know her, Y/N!'' She was seething now, eyes narrowed in a vicious glare as she slowly edged dangerously closer to your form. Her tone, like a bass drum, resonated in your chest, leaving you with a strange fluttering sensation.

''I don't understand why it's such a big fucking deal to you, Abs!'' At this, you glowered, craning slightly to get in her face before snarling,

''It was merely just a kiss! But yeah, don't worry, when I decide to finally have sex with a woman, I'll make sure to ask of your approval first.'' You huffed, chuckling at her audacity. The words came as a snarl, low and menacing with a knot tightened in your throat, fighting to hold in the urge to ask of her transparent jealousy.

''I just think you should've had your first with someone you know, someone you trust.'' And finally she, too, seemed to realize she had gone too far with this. She hesitated at the fire in your eyes, her expression softening a fraction as she mumbled the words.

''Yeah because there's a bunch of women in my life, waiting for me to say the word.'' A second, two, three passed without any motion or words exchanged. No response from her as the air grew thick with tension. The question hanged in the air, heavy and intoxicating.

''There's at least one, that's for sure.'' The words hit you with the power of a thousand crushing waves. Overwhelmed, your entire body became impossibly still and you just stood there frozen, unblinking, lips slightly parted.

Pending, whether to breathe or scream. It was doubtful whether you were meant to hear that or not yet judging from Abby's indecipherable expression, she was not fixed on an answer either.

''What?'' Even if you weren’t thoroughly sure of what exactly had been transpiring between the two of you since your group moved to the WLF base two years ago, you knew how to recognize a botched confession when it was staring you in the face.

Eventually, you two ran out of things to say, exhaling heavily as you fall silent.

Abby ultimately decided to take matters into her own hands, her boots clicking on the ground with every step she took towards you, approaching you so painfully slow that your heart almost stopped at the anticipation she brought into your bones.

By the time she was merely inches away from you, you exhaled the breath you had been holding deep in your throat, focused only on backing instinctively away as slowly as she was approaching, until your lower back hit the edge of the desk near her bed.

That’s when it fully registered just how close you two were. Enough that you could feel her hot breath against your neck. Lifting your eyes up to look at her properly, you shuddered at her gaze, hardened eyes smoldering with burning intensity, making you mildly uneasy to this new sensation taking over your body.

''God, you're so fucking thick sometimes.'' She launched herself at you, descending her mouth onto yours, trying to take possession of lips that she had only tasted in her dreams.

Her kiss was hypnotic, so insistent, pressing the tip of her tongue to your shut lips until they surrendered to her and then pulled you the rest of the way against her, your face pushed into hers in a smothering kiss in which you hardly participated in, letting her dominate it in any way she saw fit and it was unparalleled.

One hand was in your hair, tugging it gently and the other at the base of your neck keeping you close to her as though wind was to drift you away from her embrace. Her fingertips slipped beneath your collar to tease at the skin just underneath your clothing and you found yourself melting into it, eager for what would follow.

''I always knew that one day I'd have you like this'.' Gently, she trailed her fingertips up to your jaw, turning your head to the side before attaching her lips to the soft skin, planting wet kisses all over it.

If someone asked you whether this might be a record for how quickly arousal had overtaken your senses, you may have lied. Of course not, you'd say. No way did it take just one nip on your neck to get you this fucking soaked. It started a fire within you no one else could ever ignite.

''You think I haven't noticed how you look at me?'' She latched onto that perfect meeting point between your jaw and throat where she could feel your hammering pulse against her lips and tongue while she marked you with her mouth.

''Fucking hell-'' You gasped as she found that spot that unlocked your entire body, making you squirm and whimper as she increased the intensity of her coordinated attack on it, biting and soothing, until you were a keening mess.

''I always thought that it was gonna be me but you're so god damn impatient.'' Goosebumps slithered down your spine as darted her lips up to your ear, her lips gently caressing your lobe and your hips bucking slightly, longing for her touch.

Her hands trailed down the dips and curves of your body before grasping your arse in both hands, hoisting you upward with ease. You responded, wrapping your legs around her eagerly as she guided you both backwards towards the bed.

Feeling her shins come into contact with the edge of her mattress, she sat down with you straddling her lap, her lips caressing your neck softly.

''She won't get to have this. Not with you.'' She murmured, pulling your bra cups down so your breasts were on full view over the fabric of your shirt, making you squeak, blinking owlishly at the sudden development.

A rush of excitement washed over you, feeling a near-instant reaction between your thighs. You couldn't help but quiver as she dragged her fingertip across your bare nipple, your breasts heaving with each fast breath.

''So beautiful.'' Her breathless whisper set your skin ablaze, gawking at you as though you were the finest masterpiece in a gallery.

''Abby, please-'' Your nails dragged down her defined forearms, creating red lines impatiently. You weren't sure what you were begging for but the slight smirk that formed onto her lips showed you that she understood anyway.

What was certain, was that you were a proper mess under her mercy. Suddenly, the cool temperature of the room turned into unbearable heat, skin on fire contradicting the cold sweat slipping down your spine.

A whine escaped you as she took your nipple in her mouth, latching onto the very tip with her teeth. She held your stare as she swirled her tongue around the peaked bud, the lace just thick enough to keep her from touching you, but only just.

You could still feel her lips curl around it and the heat of her mouth blazing your skin, leading you to grind against her broad thigh, desperate to rid yourself of the ache between your legs.

Driven by the heat settling in your lower half, you found yourself subconsciously grinding down into her lap, eager for any kind of friction to help soothe your ache. It wasn't enough.

Growing frustrated, you planted your hands on her broad shoulders, supporting yourself as you gently started pressing your hips against hers, subconsciously griding them up and down . Sensing your desperation, she chuckled to herself.

''Not like this. I want to taste you.'' There was nothing she’d love more but to go down on you, feel your thighs quiver and press against her, have you pulse around her tongue until you’re a sobbing mess, begging him to stop and begin, a never ending cycle of pleasure.

With a swift movement of her hands, you found yourself against the soft cottoned sheets of her bed and Abby barely just below your waist, looking up at you with a gaze full of desire.

The hunger in her eyes as she easily removed your jeans from your legs was striking, mesmerising every nerve in your body to stay still under her touch.

Your panties were almost transparent when she reached down, and she wasted no time to zoom in on them. You were practically creaming her fingers once she moved them past the flimsy material, slipping it down to your ankles and then tossing it aside.

She turned her undivided attention to your drenched cunt, folds gleaming with your overflowing slick. Without hesitation, she pressed her lips against your slit, licking excruciatingly slow your arousal and groaning at the taste of you.

In that moment, she felt drunk, gliding her tongue through your wetness, soft sighs escaping her lips whilst taking your scent in. She licked a path up your slit to your throbbing clit before sucking it into her mouth, her pointed tongue tracing circles around it.

It was intoxicating and she was hooked from the first tantalizing taste. Her tongue dug deeper as she sought more, burying her face into the apex of your thighs.

Only if she knew how many sleepless nights you spent dreaming of her with your hand in between your thighs, wishing it was her instead.

''Abby-'' You moan her name like a desperate prayer, voice feeble and croaky to her touch. Her tongue was painfully, awfully delicate and torturously slow as it circled your sweet spot. In need to feel more pressure, you tried to lift your hips into the pleasure with her grasp tightening on your thighs, promising blue-shaded marks to appear so to hold you into place.

You were too enthralled by her mouth to notice that one of her hands had left your thighs as soft lips rested against your clit, sucking it with need before two fingers slid inside of you with ease, curling upwards to hit your spot instantly.

Her fingers fucked into you slowly, agonizing, matching the pace of her tongue flickering every inch of you. You jolted as if you’d been electrocuted, tense and shirking as you gripped the sheets so tight, it felt as if you'd rip them to shreds.

''My girl.'' Her voice sounded so broken and wrecked, showing you exactly how bad she craved this, craved you. Your fingers tugged at her soft hair desperately for something to keep yourself grounded.

The sound that escaped her lips was so feral, almost like a growl matching her brutal pace, and your eyes blurred with stars as she hit the deepest parts inside of you with her long fingers over and over.

The orgasm building inside of you with each thrust was overwhelming, threatening to leave you shaking and breathless in a way no other person could ever quite manage, even if they were the most experienced on the planet. No one mattered but her, neither to your heart or trembling body.

''Mine. Aren't you?'' She whispered breathlessly before licking you again, slower and more deliberately than before.

The action drew a sharp cry from your lips which was quickly stifled as you bit down on them, squirming under the flickers of sensation. It felt as though you were connected, quickening her pace, working in broad strokes, sliding against the sides of your labia.

You felt your face flush to her question, whether it was from the raspy, assertive tone of her words, or the return of her searing gaze on you, perhaps a combination of both, you didn't know. Not trusting yourself to speak, you settled for a shaky nod and a barely audible 'yes' that came out mostly as a whimper.

You arched your back, your hips jerking in his grasp as the pleasure made your body burn from the inside out. You moaned with complete abandon, your grip on your sheets almost tearing holes in the fabric.

The noises coming between your legs were obscene. The slurping and sucking that reached your ears drenched your body with a hot flush and you threw your head back with a long whine. Your body was aching for relief, a way to release the tension that had been building up from the past couple of days of sexual frustration.

Pleasure twisted deep in your belly, and the release was nearly excruciating when you were finally pushed over the edge.

Without being able to control the moans and whimpers lodging in your throat any longer, you finally yelped in pleasure as she lapped at your cunt, white dots in your vision as the orgasm hit you hard, your whole body shaking with the sudden release of tension.

The pressure, the heat led you to scream, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but her mouth refused to leave your throbbing core. She slid her tongue inside your hole, grinning at the rush of your fluids on her chin.

It was not deep, not even close, yet the stretch was enough to curl your toes from being overstimulated. Enough for you to croak out her name as your back pressed against the bed, kittenish and feeble.

Nothing else mattered but the feel of her tongue, as she drew your folds aside and ruthlessly drank mouthfuls of your release, as eagerly as someone stuck in the desert for far too long coming across an oasis, glistening slick dripping down her face in the process.

You held your palms across your mouth attempting to stifle your cries while bucking your hips against her greedy mouth.

When she was satisfied enough, she pressed her head gently against your thigh, planting a soft kiss there before darting her gaze up to your face, taking in the mess that she made of you with a beaming smile.

''That was- fuck.'' There were no words to describe the euphoria you just experienced and so you just stared at the beautiful woman resting so comfortably against your skin, with half lidded eyes, stretched open, and ever so pleased.

Speechless, your hand reached down to her angel carved face, tracing the outline of it softly with your fingertips.

''Oh, we are not done yet.'' Yeah, you might have to thank Nora after all.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #tlou2 #the last of us #ellie williams smut

524 notes · View notes

cookie-crumblr · 10 months

Text

The Smell of Smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 5~

His Info: 🖕✨

Part: 1 2 3 4 5 6

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch, slut, whore, ), BULLY, plot part(some backstory) a spoiler for TC, SA NOT BY ML, NON-CON oral on ml, force feeding alcohol, fighting, blood mentioned

Thick black leather covers your neck. A little padlock hangs from the buckle.

What the fuck is going on?

Of course you’ll try an avoid him!

Did Ace even have to ask!?

Something thumps somewhere outside your cell.

You try to cover yourself, but they didn’t give you any clothes.

Half of the gang is gone at the moment in some sort of fight, you couldn’t overhear much about it though.

There’s no way in hell you’re trying to get away, your leg is still casted up and pretty badly burned.

A thin door somewhere opens and then closes outside of your room.

“Hey Ace!” A guy says as you hear a hand-to-hand *smack*!

“Sup dude!”

“What cha doin’ ere?”

“Here to pick her up,” Ace answers them as their footfalls come closer.

“Oh? Man sounds like fun. I missed her train the other day, but oh well, plenty of whores, guess.” He shrugs and unlocks the door for the fluffy pink haired guy.

He walks you out to the connected parking garage without a word from either of you till you get into the car.

“Are you gonna get in trouble for helping me?”

“With who? Ezra? Hah!!” he laughs in earnest. “No, he raised me! after his mom ki—” his face drops, then he steels himself, “No! ya know what! He revoked his right to have secretes.”

“Wait wait, he raised you? How’d you turn out like the way you are? and not…”

“I’m sure he looks evil… I mean he’s never been like this with anyone. An I won’t try to say it’s right...”

“Why’s he doing it then?”

“I’ve never seen him with a vendetta quite like this. to be honest, i don’t know” He takes a long strained sigh before pulling out of the garage. “N-not saying there’s anything you could have done that would justify any of this! it just feels very… reveng-y”

“Whatever… Anyway, what was that about secretes? sorry-side tangents” You shrug in your seat.

“His mother murdered my parents”

Harsh knocking shakes your door practically off its hinges.

looking out the peephole you see, it’s not Ezra, but it’s still unfortunately a couple members of his gang you think.

“Sup. Boss’s gone f’today, we’re here t’escort ya around, an all that.” They look at you hungrily, sweeping over your still very much damaged form.

“A-are you??” You ask skeptically. “I-I’m just gonna… Get ready! … then.”

You go to close the door, and one of them smacks it open wider with his fist.

You jump. “Wh-what the—!?”

“Yeah. He said yur paying us fur our services” They step closer and closer. One strokes your hair, the other grabs you and bends you over them.

They take you to your class, still dirty and disheveled, but you make it on time.

After class they don’t come to pick you up. Which you think is odd, but you don’t question it, feeling a lot better off without them.

At the end of the school day you’re hopping down the street, sticky and hot, trying to get home.

“Hey, slut, ya miss me?” You hear Ezra call out to you, something stirs deep within you…

You sigh out, there’s no way you’re getting away from him right now, being on crutches and all. You give him a weak, defeated smile.

“Get in.” he practically snarls at you.

You do, without any assistance. It hurts all over by the time you’re sitting.

“You reek! t’fuck happened t’ya!?”

Sheer embarrassment turns swiftly into tears bubbling in the bottom lids of your eyes. “You should know—It was y-your guys!”

“My guys?” his lip turns up in disgust.

“Yes! they c-came first thing in the morning, said they’d pr-protect me—” your sobbing a little from exacerbation, “Th-then they—”

“What’d they look like?” His voice sits completely level, but it’s much deeper now.

You explain their appearance as best as you remember. He pulls away from the curb as soon as you get half way through.

“They ain’t my guys.”

“Stay here.” Ezra jumps out of the car and rushes the front door. Your little heart is beating so loud and hard in your chest now. Somethings really, really wrong.

You scooch down lower in your chair.

One of the guys from earlier opens the door… You see Ezra immediately grab him and slam his face down into his knee.

The guy yells loud, blood pours from his nose.

Ezra throws him to the lawn and reaches into the darkened doorway to grab the second guy and throw him as well.

He stomps on him once before kicking him a few times in the ribs.

The other guy is still reeling on the ground.

Ezra leans down over the man now and punches him repeatedly in the head and face.

Finally standing, the first guy goes to pull Ezra off his friend. Ezra’s attention is now on him, there’s blood splattered on his face, and dripping onto his shirt.

You look away, shivering, and hold your ears, your eyes are wide.

You consider running, again forgetting your damn leg.

“F-Fuck!” You punch the door of the car.

It feels like hours later he comes back to the car, the bandages on his knuckles are torn and blood soaked.

“thanks f’tellin me” He slides a wet finger up your jaw.

He throws your face roughly, before undoing his pants and grabbing you again.

“Open up, bitch,” he shoves your head down and grinds into your face. You shake your head no, and clench your jaw. “If you don’t take this fucking cock into your whore mouth—”

“Okay! okay! okayy, please! just sto-opp” You sob and put your lips to his hot, spongey tip.

Heat spreads between your legs at a frustrating pace.

“Nah, nah, bitch, this ain’t it” he chuckles.

His hand digs into your scalp and grips tightly. He forces you all the way down his shaft, nose against his thigh once again.

Your throat contracts painfully as you try and breathe.

He keeps you there, giving and taking your air at his own whim all over again the entire way home.

Once there, you’re apparently too slow to grab your things, so he grabs your bag and helps you with your crutches.

Again he tries to speed ahead of you and he sighs in frustration when you still aren’t fast enough.

He comes back to sling you over his shoulder with one arm and your crutches in the other.

You cling to his shirt, scared of having anymore pain than you’re already in.

“Have you not taken any meds yet?” He opens the door to your dorm.

“I was going to when i got home…” You say, your voice is hoarse, and quiet.

He finds the meds in your bag, after forcing you to sit. He then goes to your fridge and finds some of your roommates boxed wine.

He pours some wine into his mouth and drops in a couple pills, then brings his lips down to yours and forced the alcohol into your mouth.

It rushes in so fast you’re forced to swallow! The alcohol tastes terrible and feels so hot as it goes down. You push him away after he makes sure you gulped everything down.

He takes the container of wine and sips more, before repeating the process with you.

His hand finds your mound with ease, and he starts to rub you through your panties as you swallow more of the hot fluid.

You’re dizzy and panting already and when you try and push him away now, it’s sluggish with no power, as if you’re dreaming.

A weird buzz fills your head, you think you must be cross eyed when he pulls away.

“Hah, you’re such a lightweight!” His words float into your mind, vision spinning and blurry.

You yelp as he slaps your cunt with the back of his hand.

He takes a large gulp of the wine, before picking you back up.

It hardly feels different than being on the bed, you’re rapidly spinning regardless of where in space you are.

You can’t help giggling as he takes your clothes off, he keeps brushing over ticklish spots everywhere! Everything feels so silly right now, even your ribs tickle as you try and breathe!

He puts you in the tub with some hot water.

You suddenly stop laughing though, while he’s holding your casted leg up out of the water for you… It’s a strangely sweet gesture from him.

“‘ll this help?” he’s looking away as if trying to be polite while he asks.

You wash as quickly as possible.

Ezra dries you off and carries you to bed. He sets you in his lap and holds your chin to face him. His lips tickle yours as he just barely touches them.

You’re still dizzy, and the world is still fuzzy, making it hard to think.

His kiss gets rougher as the seconds pass, eventually he’s biting you, and sinking his teeth into your shoulder, leaving dark bruises in his wake.

His hand finds your tit, he runs his fingers over your pert bud. His other moves to your sore scalp.

“I want to tear you apart, Y/N,” he whispers against your neck in a gruff, rumbling voice.

You can’t do anything but whine, “What-” He pulls your head back forcefully, it hurts your neck, and causes you to cough.

As he kisses you, his hand slowly glides up your chest to your throat, pressing traveling dents into you’re flesh all along the way. you moan into him.

“I can’t wait to fucking destroy you,”

Your head tilts back practically welcoming his touch on its own. You couldn’t fight to keep it upright against the alcohol combined with the spreading warmth.

“You‘re too numb for me righ’now.” He throws you aside, though he stays close to you in the bed. “I want you to feel everything I give you.”

#yandere oc #oc ezra #yandere male #yandere x reader #bully yandere #bully oc x reader #bully oc x you #yandere bully oc #bully x victim #yandere bully #bully x reader #bully oc #yandere #my fic #my writing #my oc

177 notes · View notes

rakiah · 5 months

Note

Hey hey! (^-^)/ How are you doing? Love your work btw, it's always for pretty and fluffy! (* >ω<) I just had a couple of questions, and the first one was: What are your tips for an aspiring comic artist? f(^ー^; I wanna draw some of my favorite scenes from my fanfics, and I thought it might look kinda cool if it was kinda comic/webtoon style? (-。-;) Like what's your I guess take on that and how one might do that? And what about panel style, placement, and size? Is that all up to the artist, or do they have a rhyme and reason? Sorry if this was too long. You don't have to answer btw. I thought I'd give it a shot since y'know. (*´～｀*) Anyways have a great day and keep of the good work! d=(^o^)=b See ya! (^_^)v

Hi!~

Pretty busy but fine and thank you! (//∇//)

That’s a big question and I’ll try to do my best! Explaining something that technic not in your native language can be uncertain so, I’m sorry in advance 🙏

First of all: Observe. Comics, doujins, mangas,… Just observe to learn how others do.

Comic is a narrative art so, the most important things in comic is the reading way aka the panels (the angles you choose), the speech bubbles and how you put them in your comic page. It’s really the first thing you have to put in your storyboard!

Texts in the speech bubbles are also veeeery important. Texts that are badly formatted is painful to read… Avoid doing cesura as often as possible and do nice text forms.

And please, if you choose a manga layout, do not put japanese speech bubbles, they’re really not suitable for western texts.

If you want to to a webtoon instead of a regular comic/manga, you have to thing your layout quite differently. Webtoons are more like storyboard for animation. Like a series of forceful scenes. Plus, you have to deal with the required format. I’m not pretty used to do some, I’m just working with a lot of them (I do the texts for them). I can recommend you Sweet Home (cw: horror, hikikomori) to see how the author use the long layout of the webtoon to skillfully instill the jump scares in their episodes!

A quick “how I do” to finish my blah-blah! ٩( ᐛ )و

First, I write my plot like a play (quick context for each act, full dialogues with stage directions) then storyboard. Tiny storyboard, I sketch 15 pages on an A4 page. Better global view. I can’t give specific advices on how to do panels (cause it’s something that just pops in my mind during my storyboard stage 💦) just keep in mind to diversify your angles especially during a talk between 2 characters. Don’t do a shot reverse shot, it’s just boring.

Then pages. I usually rework my storyboard at the sketch stage ‘cause I have a new eye on it lol

Also, don’t forget to think about the facing pages for the narration. You can do some fun page layout!

Tadaa! ✨

Hope it’ll help you and have fun with your comic! (о´∀`о)

#answer #long post #I also hope I made it clear enough 💦#quick comic advices!

42 notes · View notes

johannwolfgangvongoethe · 1 year

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 separates 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 income 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......

71 notes · View notes

shywhumpauthor · 2 years

Note

Hero finds villain, who was missing for ages, just walking down the street and they see that villain is badly injured and they freak out

(I apologise for my strange grammar lol)

Also gender neutral if you can!!!

I love your work sm

-💜

Of course! My nameless character stuff is almost always gender neutral btw!

I realize this wasn’t written entirely to match the request, I got a bit carried away lol, hope this is close enough!

Cw: cold whump, overworking, exhaustion, unhealthy work relationship, kinda obsession? Abuse, injuries, implied torture/kidnapping, mentioned accidental almost-killing, mentioned infection

Hero was running on two hours of sleep and a venti cup of espresso. To say they were exhausted was an understatement. The only thing keeping them upright was the fact that they were physically unable to sit still.

They were nearing the tenth month now, and things weren't getting better.

When Villain had first disappeared, Hero had tried to convince themself it was a good thing. That it was for the better. Their nemesis, the one whom they had been spending day and night trying to capture, plotting their downfall, straight up and disappeared. It was good, it was what Hero had wanted all along, right? To bring peace to the city, to once and for all protect it from the very person who's sole intent was to burn it to the ground.

They had tried not to care too much. They were sure there was some sort of reasoning to explain why Villain just left. Off the map, complete radio silence. Perhaps they had a moral awakening. They got out of bed one morning, realized what they were doing was wrong, and just stopped. Abandoned whatever malicious plans they were in the middle of carrying out, and began to lead a normal, legal life. It was a nice thought, but Hero knew better than to believe it. They knew Villain better than to believe it.

Superhero had told them not to bother looking. Villain was gone, now they could focus better on the new uprising threat of Supervillain. If they weren’t causing trouble, they weren’t worth their attention. It’s not your job anymore, Superhero had said. Not their job, not their problem. It shouldn’t have been taking up their attention.

But there was a feeling, the nagging thoughts that lingered in the back of their mind, telling them that something wasn’t right. The little pinpricks of unease that rose whenever they thought of the criminal that wouldn’t let them sleep at night, wouldn’t let them focus.

So they started to look. Pulling on every thread of an idea, flipping the city upside down in their efforts. They searched all the records, visited all the past scenes of conflicts, searching for hints as to where the criminal may have gone. There was nothing. The police records cut off at the same date Villain had gone missing. Every crime since had been traceable to a certain person at a certain time, and none of them were villain.

Maybe they left, Superhero had tried to console them, urging them back to work. Maybe they found a different city. They’re not your problem anymore, Hero.

But they were their problem. Superhero’s words had only prompted them to search the surrounding cities as well, and a few beyond that as well. Nothing.

That’s how they found themself walking. The sidewalk was slicked with frost, the first flurries of a snowstorm just beginning to break from the thick carpet of dark clouds. Walking, they didn’t know where they were going, didn’t know when they would stop. They knew they ought to get inside, to return home before the storm left them stranded in the middle of the city. The streets were near empty, anyone sensible had gone indoors long before, only dotted with the occasional straggling car or lonesome person hurrying to shelter.

Their breath clouded against the air, hands stuffed deep in their jacket’s pockets. Maybe they’d stop at some twenty-four hour cafe, shelter there for a bit while refueling their depleted caffeine supplements. Yeah, that’s what they’d do. Get out of the storm before they froze, warm up by a heater and a steaming mug before returning to their aimless search. They didn’t know where they were looking, only a faint idea of who they were looking for, but any efforts were better than none.

•••

Hero couldn’t say they saw them at first. They were like a shadow, curled between some dirty steps and an alley wall, their frail body sheltered behind a flimsy sheen of fabric that did little to protect against the onslaught of cold. Their mind didn’t even comprehend it at first, mistaking the lumpy form for another snow-covered trash bag full of whatever muck lined the filthy streets. They only did a double-take when they heard the sound, a cough so small, so weak it was nearly lost to the wind. They hesitated in their tracks, their body moving on account rather than their mind before backpedaling a few steps.

It took them a few moments to discern that the hunched figure was in fact a person, and a few more to figure out if they were even alive. But then they coughed again, bony frail hand, blistered and pale from the frost raised to cover their mouth.

“Hey,” Hero was moving towards them before they could think twice. They were a hero, after all. They helped people regardless of all factors. It was their job. “Hey, buddy, you gotta get inside-”

The words died against their tongue as they watched the figure cringe, their head raising just a fraction so they could glare through half-swollen eyes. Hero froze, their heart sinking down to rest like a weight in the pits of their stomach, heavy and sickening. Their face, what was visible of it behind the fabric—Hero couldn’t tell if it was a blanket, a shawl, or some tattered jacket, it was so worn—was littered with all sorts of marks. Bruises and scratches and scars, fresh and old alike, skin smudged with dried flecks of blood and grime.

“Gedd’away from me,” Their voice came out more rasp than words, syllables so deformed it took Hero a moment to register what had been said.

“Woah, calm down, calm down,” Hero held their hands out as they took a slow step forwards, trying to show they weren’t a threat. The stranger still drew back, eyes flashing with a fearful, raw emotion. “My name’s Hero, I can help you, okay? I can bring you to a hospital, or the station-“

“Hero?” They repeated, the words falling uneasy from their busted lips. Something shone darkly behind their features, their expression hardening into a cold hostility.

“Yeah, I’m Hero. Can you tell me your name? Do you know what happened?” Hero crouched down, their knees hitting against the cracked sidewalk as they lowered to the stranger’s level.

“Get away,” The other spat, words dripping with a venom colder than the wind. Hero was taken aback, not just by the sheer hatred shining in their eyes, but the force which they spoke, not at all matching their broken voice. “I don’t- I don’t want your help. Go- go,”

Even if it had been warm out, and the person didn’t look like they had been beaten an inch from death, Hero wouldn’t have left. A twinge of something nagged at their mind, only prompting them to inch closer despite the stranger’s hissed curses.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Hero said slowly and clearly, the icy wind threatening to snatch the hat from their head, to free their scarf to the storm. “Please, let me help you,”

“Fucking- get away!” The stranger screamed, their grain legs kicking out and nearly catching Hero in the knee. They were quick to jump back, though lacking their usual graceful precision, eyes widening. “Get away from me!”

As they yelled, the fabric slipped from their form, falling past their shoulders. They were quick to snatch it up, covering their head once more, but not before Hero saw the mark on the side of their neck. Hidden amongst an array of deep purple splotches and scorched burns, the thin white scar Hero had grown so familiar to over the years. Just under their jaw, stretching nearly halfway across their throat before curving up towards their chin. Hero knew that scar so well, burned into their mind. It had been their dagger that made it after all. A mistake, it had been. When they were about to take Villain into custody, they had wrenched back. They hadn’t been aware of the blade in the skirmish, nearly slitting their own throat in the frenzy for escape.

They knew that scar so well because had hd been the one to carry Villain back to their home, to take care of the wound and all the others they sustained in the midst of the fight, provide them antibiotics and comfort through the subsequent infection.

“Shit,” Hero whispered, a low ringing settling in their ears. They stood up straight and the world lurched around them, tilting and swaying around Villain’s abused, hateful expression.

Shit.

——————————

We all know superhero 10000% kidnapped and ruthlessly tortured villain

387 notes · View notes

butterflymarks · 3 months

Text

stats / plots / muse

heyyy i'm gonna be real, this intro got chunky. BUT! that's bc i badly want to start writing and i had a lot of Ideas. i'm duha (xe/xem/xir), presenting my goth rat kiyeon with the ability fearsight. 🎈 under the cut, i hopefully explain what the hell his deal is. like this post if you'd like me to reach out for plots (d*sc*rd preferred im scared of getting sb'ed again)! i listed ideas at the end, but i'm also down to just start writing and go with chemistry if preferred. i AM crazed enough to write u a random starter if that's the vibe. ps. my other muse eunjae (aka the Cooler moon twin) is @999kintsugi, but she's on a sideblog, so i won't be able to follow back there unfortunately.

kiyeon, '98

it/its/he/him/his. you'll see me use them interchangeably but feel free to use Any pronouns for him on ur end yipeee

fearsight is the ability to induce potent feelings of fear, hysteria, panic, etc through psychological visions of the target's deepest fears. wherever applicable, their minds may project that fear onto kiyeon and they'll see him as a personification of their fears.

butterfly marks (minor passive "ability"): his skin is naturally covered in moving whorls of black, ink-like markings. they shift and gather into various shapes and patterns influenced by his moods or when he's using his ability, tending towards symmetric or radial patterns, sometimes resembling the patterns of a butterfly's wings.

???: he can't see his own reflection anymore. if he does try to look at himself, there's just Something else looking back. he's afraid of it.

his therapist says it's an extension of his main ability that has been stunted. in greater evolutions of fearsight, the metahuman could actually take the physical form of someone's fear.

isn't that something great to look forward to, The Therapist says, you'll grow into something More, but kiyeon just wants to know when he's going to grow into a skin that's bearable to live in at all ?

his fearsight is persistent & triggered by visible eye contact. it can work on other ppl through clear reflections, so he hasn't made meaningful contact with anyone in years tbh.

quiet, nervous, jumpy. probably looks scary bc of his markings but you might have heard him crying in the garden last night.

the journey so far:

lived with his older sister for a while, until he decided to leave about 2 years ago bc he felt guilty about burdening her.

uhhh fell into the serpents' circle shortly after, aka a petty villain group. was inadvertently "taken in" by them (see: he was too scared to leave), and now he's their part time publicity stunt kidnapping victim and part time videographer when they need "organic social media footage" of the crimes they're committing. they're trying to make it to the big leagues.

kiyeon is just there because one of them is apparently making him "a cure" for his eyes. it's been years since that promise now, but. you know. (see again: he is too scared to leave)

finally sought actual help and got into silver line 8 months ago. the research team thinks his markings are fascinating, they keep monitoring him and telling him to contact them if he ever feels "physical turmoil." like girl what??

(they're waiting for his power to evolve to allow him to actually physically transform)

(cw: themes of body dysmorphia) has a lot of feelings about his body and feeling distinctly grotesque and horrific. when you spent ur whole life getting ignored or being looked at in literal horror, how is ur sense of self & image supposed to survive unscathed. :|

anyway he's on a tenuous streak of stability atm. he even got a job at the animal shelter!! he's been substituting company with the animals for human connection because animals aren't affected by his eyes at least.

really a bit pathetic i won't lie. fucked up street cat rizz, if u will.

some connection / thread ideas:

here are some more Formal connections i'm looking for, let's figure smth out

a roommate...!!

he pokes around the places you're not supposed to. someone try to get into the 13th floor with him and then deal with the consequences.

i plan for his fearsight to evolve over time and become something more of a nightmare form, his true potential....wherein his body really does start to take on little characteristics of people's fears, humanoid or not. i think he has a long way to go to full transformations, but any muses who would like to encounter him on that path are welcome to hehe. just please know he'll probably have a breakdown on them afterwards. maybe your muse would be in the middle of one too (because kiyeon scared the daylights out of them yk) but that's a-ok! i love writing encounters where everything's a mess, so let's make them cry together 💢

someone he accidentally beamed with his fearsight before. now they're terrified of him, and he accidentally inherited some of their fears/phobias

he goes to group therapy sessions bc his therapist thinks it's good for him to have Human Contact, but mostly he's just quiet and never looks at anyone. maybe your muse is there too and they just start getting through their shit side by side ?

someone go to the movies with him. he loooves scary movies, he loves watching characters getting tormented by horrors and being like omg me too!!

eden is full of crazy powers so let's throw them in something crazy together !!? i crave high stakes threads

does anyone else feel less-than-human. does anyone else go out on walks in the middle of the night bc they feel like it's the only time they're "allowed" to be out (aka they can't endanger anyone). does anyone else want to be a little less alone on those walks.

fellow serpents 🐍 all kinds of dynamics. i'm thinking the serpents just basically try to cause unrest and chaos; maybe one time, your muse is supposed to be part of the incitement and kiyeon's supposed to get it all on camera .... except it goes wayward, and the others ditch them to throw them under the bus, so now they have to get away from the aeternals :\

anyone who's in that other villain group using the laundromat as a cover. maybe they're rivals with the serpents hehe ? or they cross paths in the villain business ?

be his first resident complaint

thank u for reading this far :people_hugging:

#rj:intro #he is normal i. promise #* / ooc.

13 notes · View notes

wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 9 months

Text

wooohoooo royalty au stuff :3 part of the 'bad ending'

cw: ptsd, flashbacks, past physical abuse (it's like the main focus of this story ssldkj)

They’d been betrayed.

Tug.

Lord Gearloose had turned out selfish and manipulative, slowly plotting to overthrow the kingdom.

Tug.

He’d finally acted today.

Tug.

Mads and the king had been locked in a cell, thrown in with the unconscious Gyro, Cabrera, and Blue.

Tug.

Blue was sick, they could be heard feebly coughing on the other side of the cell.

Tug.

They were too weak to use their magic to stop Gearloose. They’d only have hours to live.

Tug.

None of that mattered right now.

Tug.

Mads was chained to the wall in the back right corner of the cell, on his knees with his wrists in magic-blocking cuffs above his head. He couldn’t focus on anything but getting out of them.

Tug.

He had to get out of them.

Being forced to the ground, the back of his shirt being torn open. His wrists grabbed harshly, and tied too tightly to the post above his head. He couldn’t see behind him but he could sense her there, weighing the whip in her hands.

She cracked it once, twice, testing it out. Eleven flinching violently both times, trying to stop his shaking. He wouldn’t let her see she’d won.

All he could do was kneel helplessly as he braced himself for the blows.

Mads forced his eyes open with a gasp, putting his entire weight into tugging his hands free. His wrists and shoulders already ached, but he couldn’t stop. He hadn’t been in this position since then, and just this feeling was sending panic through him like he’d never felt before.

He was hyper aware of every feeling against his back, the brush of his shirt on his scars feeling almost painful. It was a repulsing feeling, only making him more urgent in trying to get himself loose. The sooner he got free the sooner he could rid himself of the sensation.

Tug.

There was magic crackling around his fingers, the cuffs preventing it from being set loose. His fingertips felt numb, the magic building up there in response to his panic, unable to release itself.

Mads could faintly hear the others stirring behind him, finally waking up. The scuffling in the straw, the urgent murmuring to each other. He couldn’t concentrate on the words, they were blurred together by the roaring in his ears, the way his heart was beating out of his throat.

There came a sudden rustling beside him, and next thing Mads knew the king was kneeling next to him. “Mads- Mads, are you alright? You-”

Fenton put an arm around him.

Mads shrieked, pulling away from him, whipping out a foot to try and kick Fenton away. Every scar the king had touched now felt as if it were on fire, stinging just as badly as the day it’d been etched in his skin. “Don’t touch me!”

Fenton fell back and Mads went right back to trying to pull himself free. He barely spared a thought for his partner, having no room around his panic to feel bad for him, to even realize he’d just lashed out at him. All he could focus on was his need to get out of the cuffs.

The king moved closer to him once more, thankfully not reaching for him. “What’s going on? What do you need?”

“I need to get out of here,” Mads growled through gritted teeth.

Fenton tilted his head, trying to meet his gaze, but Mads couldn’t look away from his wrists above him. He gave one extra hard pull, hardly caring as pain shot through his right shoulder.

“Mads, hold on, stop, you're going to hurt yourself.” Fenton intervened. He moved to put a hand on Mads’ arm, but thought better of it.

It was too late for that. “Can’t,” he snarled.

“No, Mads, really, hold on a second. We can get you out of here, but you have to stop.”

“Can’t.” This was all he could focus on. He had to keep actively fighting or the memories caught up. He knew his hands wouldn’t be able to slide through the metal manacles, but he wasn’t thinking rationally. The flashbacks were all too consuming.

“Why not?”

There was too much to explain, and he didn’t have the thoughts or the words to do so. So Mads just ignored him, hardly noticing when Fenton’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Mads, you have to stop or I’m going to make you. You’re going to hurt yourself like this.”

Mads still couldn’t look at him, still couldn’t stop long enough to string together a coherent sentence. “Don’t touch my back.” The stinging was fading, but each brush of his shirt only made it worse.

“Oh,” he could sense Fenton hesitating, finally putting things together. “What about this… reminds you of that?”

“Same position.” Mads had to say everything as quickly as possible, trying not to divert his attention from his task. “Can’t stop.”

“Would it help if you stood up?” Fenton suggested. “Would that be different?”

“Don’t know.”

“Can you stand?”

Why couldn’t Fenton understand that he couldn’t do anything but this? If he were able to slow down and think through how to get out of it he already would’ve by now. But he couldn’t, and he had to ignore Fenton’s questions if they were going to continue to distract him.

The king let out a breath. “Alright, we’ll get you up and see what happens. You- come over here and help him stand.”

More rustling, and Fenton was talking to him once more. “Mads, I don’t know if we can get you up with you pulling like this. Do you think you can…”

His voice faded out in Mads’ head as he sensed someone standing behind him, and every one of his feathers stood on end. He glanced back, catching a glimpse of Cabrera standing there, looking anxiously for instructions or a way to help.

Mads squeezed his eyes shut, taking a breath and giving one extra hard yank on his cuffs. It was just Cabrera, it was just Cabrera it was just-

“Don’t stand behind him like that!” The king snapped, effectively breaking Mads from his spiral as well. He opened his eyes and continued pulling. Like a dog on the end of a chain, putting everything he had into it. Placing all of his weight on his wrists in the manacles.

“Sorry! Sorry, I-”

Fenton cut the merchant off. “Get on his other side, we’ll try doing it by his arms. Whatever you do, don't touch his back.”

“Yes, sire.” Cabrera appeared in the right corner of Mads’ vision, standing between him and the wall.

“Hey, Mads.” Fenton was talking to him again, distracting him again. Despite this, Mads tried to listen. “Did you hear me? I don’t think we can get you up if you’re pulling. Do you think you can stop for just five seconds? We can count it out with you.”

Mads swallowed, pulling again. He didn’t know.

“Will you try?”

He managed a nod.

“Let’s try then.” First he felt Fenton’s firm hands on his right arm and shoulder, ready to haul him up. Next came the more hesitant grip on his right side, Cabrera still uncertain of whether he should touch him. “Ready?”

Mads nodded again, taking a deep breath. Letting his arms go slack, no longer fighting. He could do this.

Just as he did so, Fenton began counting. “Five, four, three, two…”

On four, Mads felt himself being lifted on either side. The strain hurt his already aching shoulders, but besides that he was suspended rather smoothly. He hung there for a moment before realizing he needed to put his feet down and stand, and he was properly upright by the time Fenton got to one.

Oh. This was much better.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his legs shaky and his heart still pounding. He wasn’t sure if he could hold himself up, and allowed himself to fall sideways against Fenton. The king was quick to support him. “How is this?”

“Better,” Mads managed, eyes closed. “Good.”

“Good,” he leaned his head against Mads’. “Thank you.”

That was evidently meant for Cabrera, as the duck replied. “Of course, your Majesty. Happy to help.” Mads could feel him leave, avoiding walking directly behind the assassin until he was a few feet away. Whether he didn’t want to be snapped at again or was trying to be considerate Mads didn’t know, but he smiled faintly.

“Are you able to stand on your own?” Fenton murmured.

Mads nodded, pulling away and lifting his head. “I am now.” He’d needed a moment to adjust.

“Come here,” Fenton ducked beneath his arm to stand in front of him, between his arms and between Mads and the wall. His own cuffed hands prevented him from hugging the assassin properly, so he settled for looping his arms up around Mads’ neck, holding him close. Mads immediately hugged him as tight as his cuffs would allow, resting his chin on the king’s shoulder.

Mads closed his eyes, permitting himself to slow down. Taking deep breaths, feeling Fenton’s heart beating against his own. He was with Fenton, and he was alright. He wasn’t in danger, he had never been in danger, and now things were better. Standing chained to the wall wasn’t the greatest of positions, but it was a big step up from the traumatic kneeling.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, burying his beak in the king’s cape.

“What for?” Fenton’s voice was just as soft, not wanting the others to overhear. Mads could hear them talking quietly to each other, generously giving Mads and Fenton space.

“I overreacted.” It was easy to see that now, as his shaking stopped. “We have so much going on right now and that was such a small thing to get upset over, especially when it was so easily fix-”

“Hey, no.” Fenton held him tighter. “It’s completely understandable you reacted the way you did. I apologize if I made you feel like it was inconsequential.”

“No, no.” Mads took another deep breath. “You were just trying to get through to me, I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I-I haven’t been in a position like that since the last time I was whipped, I didn’t realize it would be so bad. I’m sorry I kicked out at you like that, I wasn’t thinking straight and I-”

“Hey,” there were fingers gently brushing through the feathers on the back of his neck. “You don’t need to apologize, I should’ve been more careful with where I was touching you, and you didn’t even hit me. I’m glad this helped.”

“Me too.” Mads breathed. “Thank you.”

Fenton tried to pull away, to lean back and look at him properly, but Mads refused to let him go. Squeezing his eyes shut and holding him tighter, he could feel the king give in with a soft chuckle. “I’m not going anywhere, I just want to see if your wrists are alright.”

Mads squeezed him tightly one last time before letting go, and the king lifted his arms from around his neck. “How are your shoulders?”

The assassin shrugged, then immediately regretted it. “They’re strained, my right feels extra sore, but I’ll be alright.”

Fenton reached up to feel the area, and Mads couldn’t stop his laughter. “My right, Fen.”

“Ah,” the king switched sides. “Does it hurt if I touch it?”

“Don’t think so,” Mads tilted his head to give him more room. “The massaging feels nice.”

Fenton continued rubbing the area before pulling away. “I’ll get back to that. What about your elbows?”

“They’re fine.”

“Your back?”

Mads hesitated. “Sensitive. But… but it’s okay.”

The king simply nodded before twisting around, still staying between Mads’ arms, leaning his back into the assassin’s chest. He lifted Mads’ left hand, sliding the manacle back as far as he could to inspect his wrist. Mads peered over his shoulder.

Many feathers had been rubbed off by the cuff, the skin beneath raw and already visibly bruising. Fenton gently touched space just beneath his palm. “Are they strained badly?”

“No.” Mads tucked his beak beneath the king’s chin. “There was nothing pulling on my fingers, so it’s not bad.”

“Hm,” Fenton let go, and Mads wrapped his arms around him. “Well, don’t strain them too much, and be careful with the cuffs. More rubbing could make it worse.”

Mads knew that, but he realized Fenton was just trying to help in the ways he could. “I’ll try.” He took a deep breath. “Any ideas for how we’ll get out of here? How’s Blue?”

“Cabrera’s with them. I don’t think they’re awake yet.” Fenton murmured, resting his head back against Mads’ shoulder. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Mads kissed his temple. “Gearloose won’t get away with this.”

The king’s voice was surprisingly dark when he replied. “No he won’t.”

#uaaaaaagh #i've wanted to write this one for forever #mad ducktor #fenton crackshell cabrera #nega fenton #nega fenton crackshell cabrera #negaverse fenton #negaverse fenton crackshell cabrera #gyro gearloose #blue phantom #the blue phantom #madfen #fenro #madfen royalty au #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #duckverse #wacky writes

14 notes · View notes

canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 1 year

Text

PROPAGANDA

HOLY KUJO (JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE: STARDUST CRUSADERS)

1.) She's treated badly by both the creator, Araki, and her own kid and father. When people start getting Stands (powers) hers tries to kill her, which functions as an excuse to start the plot of this arc of Jojo. The explanation is that she's too weak and gentle to control a Stand of her own, even though we see Stand users who are children, babies and even literal animals. Yes, animals. Holy's son Jotaro calls her a bitch and disrespects her for no real reason aside from establishing him as a rebel/delinquent, and Holy's father Joseph hates that she married a Japanese man and follows Japanese customs (Araki thinks xenophobia/racism is okay from a heroic character, apparently). Holy's saved from her evil Stand, but it's never explained why she couldn't have developed it into something useful- guess she was too much of a weak lady to have cool powers 🙃🙃🙃

2.) In the story, stands are developed due to Dio, who is in possession of the body of an ancestor of the Joestar family, stabbing himself with an arrow and developing a stand. In response, everyone in the family line begins developing them. Stands are supposed to be a representation of someone's "fighting spirit", and typically the stronger your spirit the more powerful your stand. Josuke(the main character's mom) develops a stand early on around the same time he does, except in her case she is too "weak willed" to develop a stand properly so she's dying from it. Part of the plot is that they have to defeat Dio to stop her from developing a stand in time or she'll die, even though everyone in the family keeps their stand but her after they defeat Dio??? This compassionate, caring woman who's practically a single mother is dying of being "weak willed" just what the fuck. There is 0 reason for this and It then takes multiple seasons for one of the Jojo's to be a woman and it's just a mess.

Also apparently when people try to justify it they put it as it needs to be a "fighting" spirit in particular but do NOT tell me Holy wouldn't have travelled to Egypt to throw hands with Dio for her son just do not she cared wayyyyyyyy too much about him.

POPPY PIPOPAPO (KAMEN RIDER EX-AID) (CW Mind Control)

1.) Poppy is a fully qualified nurse who magical girl transforms into a cutesy idol girl! Haha - yea you're never gonna see her act as a nurse. She's just a nurse because that's a Woman's Job and gives a reason for her to be supporting our Male Doctors. She'll provide some bedside manner because that's what nurses (women) do and that's their whole role. But better than that, she can scream really high pitched and sing songs because she's an idol! The other characters find this annoying and all make their annoyance at her doing this clear! But secretly (and this is spoilers) she's the villain's dead mother who he turned into a cute idol girl so she wouldn't be truly dead. She doesn't remember that that well but now she has a maternal instinct towards him! And also he kinda considers himself her father so… thanks for that. Well, since she's his mother, she can be in charge of babysitting him when he's caught for his bioterrorism time. Oh, and she'll sacrifice herself for the good of the world in an emotional scene where the writer forgot he literally already said that she has a revive button they can just press any time because who cares. Anyway here's a contrived reason she gets revived at the end to have an emotional scene with the male protagonist. Oh, but don't worry, we let her wear a superhero suit like 3 times.

2.) Despite working in a hospital for about 6 years, Poppy apparently isn't a nurse. Every male character around her is either a doctor, doctor in training, former doctor; but no. Poppy - who has been working here for 6 years - can't be a nurse. After all, she's just a rhythm game character! Yes, our female character isn't human, she's just a cutesy little rhythm game character who loves to sing and dance! She's our little mascot girl to sell the character song CD! Isn't she cute? She does all those cutesy idol girl things so you'll fall in love with her. Of course, it's not misogyny for a female character to be cute and girly, but the fact that she can work here for 6 years and not be considered a legitimate professional because she's an female idol-themed video game character, kinda rubs the wrong way. Also that the only exception for a male character being a doctor is the CEO that she gets stuck babysitting because she's technically his mother that he killed and turned into a cutesy idol video game character. Now she gets to play mother! That's what it means to be a female character we guess. Then we have how everyone around her treats her or reacts to her. We have Kiriya physically flinching away and looked annoyed when she talks too high pitched. We have her being told off that her personality is too "stressful" for patients to put up with. We have her being slapped by our protagonists. We have her being brainwashed to join the villains, who strangle her. And then she gets to die for the man pain and be brought back immediately. Then we get into the sequel movies where we put a collar on her to condition her into behaving in a way her master deems appropriate. She gets turned into a dress-up doll for them to play with.

3.) I'm just posting an image and would like to highlight the collar she's wearing in it

#polls #round 1 #week 1 #cw mind control

32 notes · View notes

loveless-arobee · 5 days

Text

Very angry rn and need to rant about bookish things. CW for aphobia, anti-lovelessness, and transphobia

I cannot with alloro people. Imagine listening to someone explain the plot of their book to you, a book about a loveless aromantic trans man, and your response is basically "why doesn't he fall in love at the end?"

AH YES THE MOST SATISFYING ENDING TO A BOOK ABOUT A LOVELESS PERSON LEARNING TO ACCEPT THEMSELVES IS "SIKE! I'M NOT LOVELESS AFTER ALL!"

Should he fucking detransition, too, and ~learn to accept herself~ since you're so up to erasing queerness??? That's the same thing!

Imagine hearing me explain how the whole fucking book is about Eliv learning to accept himself as loveless, aromantic, gay and trans, all at the same time, and thinking it's a reasonable response that he shouldn't actually be some of these things.

The whole fucking book is about him learning that he doesn't have to be a woman and wife, doesn't have to belittle his own sexual feelings, and that he doesn't have to love.

How the fuck would "oh, he actually does love!" be a satisfying conclusion after spending chapters learning that love isn't necessary? How the fuck can you hear about a book that is literally saying that he doesn't have to change himself to be accepted and liked and say "but why doesn't he change himself tho? :/"??? It would be just as fucked up as ending the book, after he learnt to accept himself as a man, with him detransitioning!

HE IS LOVELESS! The whole fucking point of the book is that he is loveless and trans and gay and aromantic, and that that is fine! GOOD, even! The whole book is about finding community without having to change or erase fundamental things about yourself!!

He will not "learn to love"! Because he doesn't fucking have to love anyone to be a whole person! He learns to be happy and accept himself!

Holy fuck I can't. I just can't talk to alloro people and non-loveless people about my book. What kind of response is that?

Fuck you. Honestly. If you wanna read about love so badly, pick literally every singly other book on earth, and leave me the fuck alone.

I won't tag this with anything but my book-tag, because I don't think anyone needs to read this. If you ended up here anyway, here's my stupid little dog in a stupid little pose to calm your nerves if this shit pissed you off, too. Hope you have a better day than me.

#The Man Without A Heart

3 notes · View notes

mumms-the-word · 12 days

Text

Bound by Blood - Ch. 2

Ch. 2 - A Test

Characters: Alistair, fem!Surana, Zevran, fem!Tabris, and basically the rest of the DAO crew Plot: Seventeen-year-old Nyssa Surana never expected to find herself a Grey Warden - let alone one of three surviving Wardens, one of which is her own cousin, Velle Tabris. She's the last person anyone would ever choose to save the world. Young, inexperienced, deeply anxious, and only just out of the Circle Tower for the first time in a decade, she's convinced she's as unlikely a hero as unlikely heroes come. But someone has to save Ferelden from the Fifth Blight...and keep her cousin out of trouble...and try not to fall in love with the charming Alistair Theirin, all at the same time. Three impossible tasks, but she's determined to succeed, even with the odds stacked against her. A/N: Duncan has returned to Ostagar. Nyssa seeks him out to ask if there is a way to save a man dying of darkspawn corruption. Duncan offers an alternative. CW: death, overdose, slight panic attack

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | My Fic Masterlist | Read on AO3

“Ah,” Duncan said, looking up and standing as she approached. His smile was warm. “My young friend from the Circle. I trust you are doing well?”

“You remember me?” she asked, a little surprised.

“Of course. Nyssa Surana, if I recall correctly. Irving spoke quite highly of you when I last visited the Circle. I am glad to see that he came around and decided to send you after all. What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping for a moment of your time, Ser Duncan,” she said, twisting her fingers together. Maker, why was she so nervous? She’d spoken to him before, though it had been weeks ago. “And…for a bit of advice. I’ve heard that men and women who have been affected by the darkspawn can be saved by the Wardens.”

Duncan’s warm expression turned slightly wary. “That is true…in part.”

“Then, please, can you tell me if this man can be saved? He is in the clinic, here in camp.”

He looked reluctant but bid her to show the way. She led him up to the clinic, to the cot of a man who lay writhing in obvious pain, sweat beading his brow.

“Please,” he whispered. His voice was dry and brittle like a withered wisp of dried onion skin, and the words were often difficult to understand. “Please…someone…gods it burns, it burns…”

He had been brought in two days ago, and now, after two days of suffering, his skin had begun to bruise badly all over, despite him never leaving the cot. Sores now festered around his lips and along his neck, and no matter how many times she tried to clean or treat them, they continued to grow black with infection. The skin around his eyes had darkened into deep circles and his eyes were cloudy, getting worse by the day.

“We’ve done everything we can think of,” Nyssa said quietly, still fidgeting, this time with the hem of her sleeve. “Nothing helps. So I thought…”

“This man is past saving, I’m afraid,” Duncan said. “The darkspawn taint in his blood runs too deep.”

“You can tell that at a glance?”

“There are notable signs to look for,” he explained, frowning faintly. “This man exhibits many of them already. I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do here.”

Nyssa looked down at the man again. He was half-conscious and starting to mumble again, restless, frenetic ramblings about burning and voices. “I see…I hoped otherwise, but I…I suppose there is little I can do, then.”

Tears stung her eyes but she tried to will them away. She had hoped Duncan might have a solution that would make this man’s suffering worthwhile, or at least something that she could try so she didn’t feel quite so useless, but no. This man was simply destined to die, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was so unfair.

“Maker, he must be so miserable,” she whispered, watching him.

“Indeed,” Duncan said softly. “It may be better to end his suffering early.”

She looked up, alarmed. “What?”

But he didn’t repeat himself. He merely watched her. She looked back down at the man so she didn’t have to feel pinned beneath the Warden Commander’s steady gaze, but she could see him watching her out of the corner of her eyes.

She pressed her lips together, trying to resist the chill that ran down her spine and the way her gut churned at his suggestion. She’d seen death before, and some scouts had even died while she was trying to heal them. But death was still new to her, and he was suggesting something else entirely.

“I can’t do that,” she whispered. “I can’t…just kill someone. What if there’s something—”

“There isn’t. This man is already dying. His life will end regardless of the choice you make. And choosing to do nothing and letting him suffer in his final hours is still a choice, Nyssa.”

Her hands began to tremble. “But I…”

“If you do nothing, and he does not die naturally, he will turn into a ghoul and attack everyone in sight,” Duncan said. His voice brooked no room for argument. He stated this fact bluntly and seriously and when Nyssa looked up again, eyes wide with horror, he merely held her gaze. “You have been caring for this man, Nyssa. You know he is beyond saving. Now it is your choice to make.”

“I…b-but I don’t…I have no idea how to k-kill a…” She swallowed thickly against the bile that threatened to gather in her throat.

She could feel a familiar and dreaded panic rising up inside her. Hands shaking, mind clouding over, breath coming a little too quickly. She wanted nothing more than to run away and hide in some forgotten corner or hole in the ruins, even as her mind also screamed at her for being so weak.

Useless. Pathetic. Can’t you get it together? Why did they even bring you here? Weak. Cowardly. You’re a coward and now it’s obvious for all the world to see.

She shook her head, taking a step back. “I-I can’t, I don’t know how to—”

“Do you not know any potions or tinctures that might serve as both balm and poison?” he asked. He could see her panicking, she knew he could, but he carried on their conversation with solemn sobriety as though she were not actively trembling in front of him.

This…this felt like a test. This felt like facing that spirit in the Fade again, the one she had faced in her Harrowing. Some part of her panicked mind was able to suggest that ludicrous idea, and once it had been said, it began to take root. She swallowed again against another wave of nausea and reached for the necklace she always kept around her neck. A few worn, carved beads hung there on a simple cord, each bead enchanted with little charms, and her fingers naturally found the one that had been worn the smoothest over time and touch.

A calming spell, faint but sure, settled over her, activated by her touch and a tiny bit of mana. She took a shuddering breath as it helped to slow her heart rate just enough to feel like she wouldn’t faint.

She was really about to do this. For what reason, she didn’t yet know.

“There is…” She took another breath. “There is a tincture to dull pain that…we have to be careful in administering. Too much and it will…” She shook her head, still fidgeting with the bead on her necklace. “But the Chantry sisters have never let me administer it because it is so strong.”

“Then you know what you must do,” Duncan said. “Now the choice is yours.”

She looked again at the dying man. He tossed and turned on his cot, his cloudy eyes open but unfocused, sweat dripping down his face. Each sore on his skin was black with corruption and his veins, she now noticed, stood out stark and black beneath his skin.

He was dying. Slowly, painfully, and surely. And if he did not die, then he would become something monstrous.

Duncan could kill him easily. She suspected that if she asked him, Duncan would simply produce a blade and mercy kill him himself. But he wasn’t offering and he had placed the choice in her hands instead.

A test. A test of what? She didn’t know, and she had no idea if what she was about to do was the right answer to the test in question.

Even so, she took another shuddering breath and nodded. “Th-then I…I will do it.”

She forced herself to turn away, to walk over to the makeshift tent filled with crates of potions and healing supplies, ignoring the Chantry sisters who were watching her with open suspicion. She knew where the tincture was stored, but when she reached for the lid of the chest, a sister grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the sister asked.

“She is merely obeying my orders.” Duncan’s voice came from the front of the tent. He had followed her. The sister glanced his way and quickly let go of Nyssa’s wrist.

“If you require healing or aid, you can ask one of us, Warden Commander.”

“Thank you, but I’ve already employed the services of this young woman here.”

“But she isn’t—“

“I know what she is. And I have enlisted her aid. Let her do as she was bid to do.”

The sister glanced between Duncan and Nyssa, who stood there still feeling the fine tremors of her former panic running through her, combined with the jitteriness of common nerves. The sister frowned and took a step back.

“Fine. Maker guide your hands,” she said, and then added much more quietly, “and pray he doesn’t let you do anything stupid.”

Nyssa clenched her teeth together and opened the chest, removing one of the bottles of the tincture to dull and relieve pain. Then she left the tent in a hurry and walked back to the dying man with Duncan at her side.

Feeling the Warden’s eyes on her, she knelt and poured a hearty dose of the tincture into a wooden cup for the man, three or four times as much as she saw the sisters usually administering. Then, carefully, she lifted the man’s head and brought the cup to his lips.

“Here, ser,” she said softly, hoping her words broke through his fevered raving. “Drink this. It will…” Her voice broke. She swallowed and tried again. “It will help.”

The man blindly seemed to notice the cup at his lips and lifted a shaking hand to take it. She helped him tilt it back, watching him drink every last drop of the sweet-tasting tincture until at last the cup was empty. He fell back onto the cot, staring up at the sky, his mouth forming unspoken words.

“You can sleep now,” Nyssa said, tears stinging her eyes as she settled onto her knees, gripping the cup tightly in both hands as if it were the only thing holding her together. “You can…you can rest now.”

It didn’t take long. First, his body relaxed, and then his lips stopped moving, and for a moment he simply stared, eyes half-lidded, at the sky, his breathing slow and even. And then his eyes drifted closed. A few breaths later, he simply…stopped breathing.

She wasn’t exactly sure the moment when he officially passed. But she knew it eventually. Something subtle changed about him, something that innately told her that his spirit was no longer there, no longer present in his ailing body.

Duncan confirmed it by placing two fingers at the man’s neck and then nodding solemnly. “It is done.”

It was done.

Her first kill.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dao #my fic #bound by blood #da fic #dragon age fic #dao fic #my warden #nyssa surana

2 notes · View notes