#pre-game personalities

[ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa]

Hiii, Hello, what if I dropped an abandoned vent fic from February 2020 that's based off true events and didn't elaborate? Anyway: (vague and non-fanon) pre-game, one-sided saiou, angst, a note of saimota but not serious

The world stopped. No. He stopped. The world kept on spinning as if it wasn't over.

Actually wrong again, he didn't stop either for some reason. There was no sudden halt, in which he would freeze, heart painfully clenched in a second of utter horror, panic, despair, his world shattering. It was an over 20 cars pile up tragedy in slow motion that started with just two vehicles colliding. After that lots of others being unable to brake fast enough was inevitable on a highway of life.

He didn't know when it started, maybe like all kinds of evil it had roots in middle school. Technically, he knew it was not true, it started earlier, truly it started to be a problem later, well that's a lie too. It was already a problem in middle school, he just didn't acknowledge it at the time.

It could be that this whole situation was like thousands of domino pieces he was putting up ever since he first saw Shuichi in the kindergarten, so over twelve years of work on fragile construction, few segments has been in need of repairs before, but what happened this time was damaging beyond repair.

Or maybe he was just being overdramatic again, but it really did feel like he built up his own doom this way and just recently somebody knocked one of the dominoes down, the very first one and now the sound of them all clattering was echoing in his head for months.

Pretty sure that this somebody was himself and nobody else, too, but that doesn't really matter. What mattered was that now he was alone and pitying himself.

A year ago was an entirely different life, perhaps they were even different people, but he wouldn't say that, at the core people don't change after they aren't children anymore, some parts of one's soul can be only shaped in childhood and that's most likely a bad thing for them. Not to say that for everyone. Again, the life was definitely different, present feels like an alternate universe.

They were just entering a new year similarly to now and the saying that the whole year is going to be like the new year's eve might have been a curse. Honestly, he wasn't that familiar with it before, but after Momota repeated it so many times during one day it burned into his mind. It was just the three of them at Saihara's house, all eighteen, but no alcohol, because everybody knew it just wouldn't pass with Saihara's parents and at that time he didn't mind. God, it really was just a year ago when he was all stops against drinking ever, look at him now.

Ah, but not to waste time thinking about own alcoholic father, the thing about Saihara's parents is they're unpredictable as his mother is absolutely insane, and his dad is under her shoe. So, not to anger the beast they spend most of the evening quietly sharing sweets, listening to music and talking about the dumbest shit they could, but it was fun, it was what he was used to.

What happened with that damned can of peaches was probably some curse too, like, they totally should have given up on opening it after five minutes, but no. It wasn't like any of them to just give up, what was started had to be done, doesn't matter that they were too dumb to use can opener correctly. Momota tried helping with a knife, but eventually Saihara got frustrated and pulled the half way cut open lid with his bare hands. This goal fixated madman. Honestly, all of them.

Through the year they brought this story back too many times and incorrectly as a reminder of strength and determination instead of taking things too far. 

He only started to think of that day as a cursed one year later, comparing events from around midnight to last days of the next year. Which greatly upset him, because seeing such connections was his mother's thing. She was especially stuck on seeing meanings in dates of people's deaths or birthdays. Annoying.

Basically, he wanted to kiss Shuichi at midnight. It was stupid and he knew he was too much of a coward to actually go through with this. But emotions were high and they were having so much fun that he though that maybe, maybe he could do this.

He couldn't. He walked up to him, got close... and then backed out and played it off as a joke. Unfortunately, Shuichi is this kind of person that while usually reserved forgets himself while having too much fun and becomes some sort of insane.

He saw the shine of idea appearing in his eyes from up close. And then, before he could turn around to notice the whole thing, it was too late. What he managed to register was Momota looking traumatized, wiping his lips and muttering questions like "why?" and making general sounds of disgust and something almost like despair at losing his first kiss like that.

Ouma, too, felt like he lost something important while looking at Saihara who was laughing, carefree after delivering critical damage to two of his closest friends at once.

[aibafiles]

i have begun to suspect that the question is not "where is zagreus" but rather "when is zagreus"

[mossy-paws]

Biograft sillies (PHIGHTING!)

‼️SCROLL FOR THE OG PHOTOS‼️

some fun little shitposts I made as stress relievers/for fun :3! Honestly had a blast with all of these and they weirdly didn’t take too long! The first one is for a Twitter challenge and the other two are just for fun based off some cat images I found

og images:

[looking-for-wisdom]

the “ex-something” character in disco elysium is so interesting to me because what we finally learn about the true Dora from harry’s dream sequence & conversations with the 41st precinct initially undercuts the first impression you get as a player. We learn things that makes it seem like Harry should be over her leaving. Specifically, the fact that she and Harry were never actually married and that it has been six years since she left.

Everything we’re told about Dora needs to be taken with a grain of salt, since it primarily comes from Harry. He’s an unreliable narrator and, if we had her perspective on things, there would surely be more to the story. But even with that said, I feel reasonably confident that the player’s first impression — that whoever this ex is did some damage even beyond typical breakup heartbreak — isn’t completely wrong.

We know a few things for certain. Harry was a gym teacher before they met, and Dora was the reason he joined the RCM. We can also do the math to figure out that they were together for around 12 years. Married or not, that’s a serious relationship. There are implications that Dora might have been pregnant at some point.

Dora’s family was wealthier than Harry’s, but they struggled financially when they were together. They had to rely on her parents for support.

Harry is a grown ass man who is responsible for his own choices. None of this changes that. But the way he is starts to make more sense when you consider that it wasn’t just their breakup that was traumatic. Their relationship itself seems unhealthy.

Harry clearly likes working with kids. Kim actually points out how he is easily able to connect with Cuno and the other teens in Martinase. With that in mind, I imagine he probably liked being a gym teacher. But we learn that Dora encourages him to join the RCM to do more for the greater good. Again, Harry had to agree to this — she didn’t force him to quit at gunpoint. But it rubs me the wrong way that, shortly after they start dating, she implies that his work isn’t fulfilling or important (probably patently untrue in an area where kids won’t necessarily have stable home lives). And, more than that, she suggests that joining the police is the solution.

Granted, we’re told there’s a lot of crime in Jamrock. Maybe it is as simple as her thinking law enforcement helps prevent that. But given the political tones of the game, which intentionally critique cops and the moralist forces they represent? I think it’s notable.

Speaking of which. The class difference between Dora and Harry has to be thematic. So much of the game discusses the struggle between the working class and the bourgeoisie. There’s an inherent power dynamic there. It’s her parents who are consistently paying their bills and keeping them afloat. She has an out that Harry doesn’t. Money won’t be an issue for her when they split, but Harry will be left without any support. Regardless of whether she intentionally held this over his head, this game shows that even without meaning to, the capitalist system harms the poor. That strain must be felt in their relationship, and could cause a lot of damage over 12 years.

All this to say: their relationship clearly wasn’t some fling. And, if Harry is to be believed, the blame for things falling apart was largely placed on him: working to much, not bringing home enough money, not being enough. But even if Dora wasn’t actively manipulating him and he came up with all of this on his own, I think the facts still point to a dynamic where he was made to be small in the face of a woman who came from more. Their backgrounds create an imbalance where Harry was always going to feel the flaws in their relationship more acutely. He starts with little, and gives up much of what he does have to pursue something better for the both of them. But when that isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, he’s the only one left with nothing. She can leave the country and start over.

It makes sense, to me, that he might not have recovered from that in six years. Especially when that rock bottom feeling seems so permanent that he isn’t trying to get better so much as numb himself enough to exist another day.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t responsible or that he’s exempt from having to get his shit together. The game very clearly illustrates that everyone will turn away from him if he doesn’t. But it does complicate his character a bit more than “got left by extremely bangable woman, proceeds to make the lives of everyone around him worse.”

[stressfulsloth]

I really do think it's interesting that the way DE discusses ableism gets ignored by a lot of the fanbase. Because Harry is undeniably disabled and that's a core conflict of the game. He's living in an impossible situation that so many disabled people get caught in; he's physically disabled, even more so by the end of the game after being shot, but even at the beginning of the game he struggles with nerve damage, post-polio syndrome, partial paralysis in his jaw, withdrawals, and that's not even starting on the mental illness. He is sick and cannot ever properly heal under these circumstances because he cannot stop moving forward or he will start to sink. He's living in poverty. He has no safety net. No way out of the RCM. That night in Martinaise before the beginning of the game, he tries to quit- throw everything away. He tries to end his own life and drive his car into the sea because he cannot fathom a future where he's able to get out of this alive when he's so intrinsically bound to this abusive institution that he can't escape from.

And then comes Jean, deliberately forbidding anyone from jogging Harry's memory out of spite and anger, refusing to allow anyone else to help, calling him a fucking idiot and a psychopath, asking if he can go to the toilet on his own, telling him that he doesn't deserve his disability pension because it should go to cops who gave a shit instead (nevermind that Harry has been working at burnout pace for years, he's an addict so his contributions are essentially worthless, right?). He has a conversation with Judit, right in front of Harry, on whether or not he has learning disabilities.

This guy is a very interesting character! And I'm not denying that he's likely dealt with consequences at work from Harry's illness. But he also fulfils the narrative role of being a mouthpiece for the suspicion and even outright aggression that addicts face even while trying to recover. He fulfils the role of a representative of the RCM, with the ability to approve or deny Harry’s return and in turn essentially sentence him to a slow death in the seaside village. He is not there to help; he is there to judge and observe, and then blame Harry when things go bad even though his inaction is at least in part responsible for the deaths during the tribunal. And this is all very deliberate! The RCM, and by extension the Coalition, as an organisation is failing both its officers and its citizens- Jean, by extension, is one of the officers being failed! They are underfunded, overstretched, overworked, and shouldn't even exist in the first place. The expectation on partnered officers to provide emotional support to each other is ridiculous. But instead of directing his anger upwards towards the Coalition airships or superiors at the RCM, he directs it outwards, towards 'the liberals' or towards Harry, who as a disabled addict is a pretty convenient punching bag.

His vitriol towards Harry is not supposed to be sympathetic! At least the way I read it, you're not meant to look at him and think 'oh wow Harry's struggle has been so hard for him.' You're meant to question his language, to think more deeply about how society treats addicts, how punitive measures are never going to help someone get sober, about the importance of safety nets.

[qrowscant]

various security breach ruin doodles. while playing the game my little sister and i crafted an intricate self-insert au because she couldn't get past the insanity of exploring a run down pizzaplex by herself (she is twelve). she said she would take me with her so i'd "get infected by the glitchtrap virus and get killed first." alright

[madebyteenagefury]

ok i need to go to bed but also ive been thinking about this and i need to put it out,;

those fics, either entirely sex or only with references to it, that capitalize on marvin’s definite misogyny and internalized homophobia are scrumptious as fuck but ESPECIALLY the ones where they specifically mention him being disgusted with doing things sexually (or not) that he perceives as feminine. not just bottoming though, giving a blow job (specifically on his knees or when he’s being maneuvered by his partner. manhandled if you will.) or simply being called pretty by a man. giving up his power in a hookup or a date, the other person paying or taking the responsibility of taking marvin out rather than the other way around. i eat that shit up i love it. even when he and whizzer are back together, he’s better but im sure he still has a long way to go especially in his view and treatment of women. maybe he sees whizzer as an ‘equal’ now in the relationship, doesn’t expect him to play the traditional role of a woman, but the misogyny still comes out to play when he talks to trina im sure of it. or, i hate to say, with cordelia and charlotte. i wont deny being besties with a lesbian couple definitely did wonders for his world view but he has years of this kind of thinking and behavior to undo. i just am fucking obsessed with the exploration of that in fan work.

[caluupin]

Finished TGAAC around 2 1/2 weeks ago but only finished the doodles today. but still, here ya go!

[fisheito]

Well THat doesn't seem right....

[jack-the-fool]

Honestly? Imagine finding out that the chosen hero and only one with the power to save your entire country forgot their anti-anxiety meds back at home

[shalom-iamcominghome]

It seems, sometimes, like people sometimes almost expect converts/converting people to hate where we come from, and if I'm honest... I think connecting with judaism has made me want to connect with my roots even more.

I'm thinking about starting to learn the languages (some of) my family would have spoken before emigrating to where I live now (german and italian), and, hell, I've learned a lot about xtianity since officially embracing judaism and diving head-long into it.

In my experience, judaism doesn't inherently demand that you forsake everything you were or are. What is asked of you is to embrace judaism. To recognize g-d, to worship g-d, to willingly join the jewish people. That is not the same as demanding you to spit on what led you where you are now. Nothing will change my past, my heritage, and judaism has actually helped me appreciate where I come from. I want to connect with myself, my family, because I embrace judaism.

I don't want to speak to other people's experiences, so just a reminder that this is only my story as a student, as someone who adores judaism and appreciates the experiences that were a one-way ticket right to where I am now.

[puhpandas]

hi mutuals im just curious.

[whitehairedanimeboyfriend]

I feel like even in trans positive spaces trans men are seen as less authentic than trans women, because we supposedly have something to gain by transitioning or wanting to be men. (social power.) It's reflective of how we look at historical people that by today's standards we would see as trans men (Joan of Arc) or fictional characters that live as men while secretly being women. (Naoto from Persona, Sheik from Zelda.) And this is going to be an uphill battle until we get rid of gender essentialism in our spaces completely.

[the-silver-chronicles]

Siblings Q&A | Silva & Elsa Omar ONESHOT

Tagged by @raresbaby and @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @voidika @icecutioner @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @imogenkol @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries and @nightwingshero + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

Hey guys, SimpleGenius here! Decided to turn this short Q&A into a legitimate Oneshot for The Silver Chronicles, involving two OCs of mine; Silva and her younger half-sister, Elsa, set in a time in Hope County where Silva had no knowledge of Eden's Gate and the Omar's experienced a time of normalcy. There should be nothing but fluff, yes-siree. Oneshot below the cut:

The buzz of the worn-out camcorder complimented the numbing visuals of the frozen static, but swiftly the unused device booted up.

The specter on the screen was both haunting and ethereal, a memory from a time so much simpler. A normality so sparse in time.

With her trusty camcorder in hand, Elsa admired herself in the mirror. Hair twisted in many small blonde braids, wearing a white sundress laced with magenta patterns that looked like flowers.

The camcorder fizzled, the screen going blank for a moment. She gave it a good whack, faded red paint dusting her black gloves, and the camcorder proceeded to work like normal.

Elsa carried the camcorder away from the mirror, passing through into a lounge. Her hermana, dressed in a yellow flannel and black jeans, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders, seated on their couch having a cup of coffee.

"You ready, Sylvie?" Elsa asked, shuffling cards out of frame. Sylvester placed her cup onto the coffee table, laced gloves fixing creases on a dress she's not wearing. Realizing this, she stops the action and awkwardly cups her knees.

"Si, uh, seguro," Sylvester muttered out, clearing her throat, "How does this work?"

"Essentially, from what Rae-Rae told me, this is a fun little game where siblings answer questions for that net-work mambo-jumbo," Elsa explained, and again shuffled the flash cards she prepared.

"And since we're both sane enough to not invite people to put their noses into where they don't belong, I thought maybe, instead of doing this for strangers, we do it for Persephone," Elsa elaborates further.

Sylvester blinks, grey eyes staring at her younger hermana like a doe caught in headlights. She tilts her head, her right cheek sunk in, chewing her inner cheek.

"Elsa, she's una," Sylvester points out.

"Yeah, I know that," Elsa sighs, understanding but exasperated, "But she won't be for long. When she's older, we can show her this. Let her get to know her mamá and tía some more."

Sylvester's lips didn't quite frown, but she wasn't unconvinced either. "Derecha," she nodded, still wrapping her head around the camcorder's functions.

Elsa was likely grinning behind the camcorder, "Exactly! Now, to make this a bit more fun, I shuffled the questions out of order. Now let's begin."

Elsa showed the flash cards, the shuffle complete, and flipped over the first one.

"Question 19: Who has the worst ideas?" Elsa asked aloud.

Sylvester snorted, uncharacteristic of the person she's supposed to be, a small teasing smile on her healing chapped lips, "Well we both know who that is."

Elsa let out an exaggerated gasp, feigned offense, "Why Sylvie, I am but a respectable, humble and pious shopkeeper. Do you insinuate that I am anything but?"

"Bold words coming from the local daredevil who likes to worry her hermana to near-death," Sylvester retorts, arms crossed.

"...I'm guessing Rae-Rae snitched about my escapes on her roof?"

Sylvester had no need to answer, though Elsa must have seen that she had nothing to worry over, as Sylvester's smile held only amusement.

"Next question," Elsa declared, moving on, "Number 7: Most stable romantic life?"

Both wondered briefly, and Elsa states, "I gotta give this one to you Sylvie. You managed one relationship with Irene far longer than any ones I've had in our time here."

Sylvester narrows her eyes at Elsa, raising a quizzical brow, "Is that so? You and Ezekiel were like two peas in a pod every time you both talked with each other."

"That was brief, and we weren't official. Just some one-upping through flirtation. And he had been a real jerk at first, remember? At least you and Irene had a better start," Elsa deflects, waving a hand onscreen as she desperately denied her hermana's accusations.

Sylvester merely nods her head in feigned agreement as Elsa brings out the next question.

"Question 12: Best memory together?"

Sylvester leaned back on the couch, looking up for a moment. With Sylvester pondering which memory she liked the most, Elsa already found one.

"I'd say buying this residence," Elsa admits, "A place we can forever call our home. Wouldn't you agree?"

Sylvester looked to Elsa, and gave a short nod, "Si, it is up there. But... I'd say my favorite would be when it first rained. Just... playing and dancing like kids do... like we should have been allowed to do."

Elsa must have sensed the solemness in her voice, and replied, "At least we got to do it."

Sylvester hummed, appreciative of that fact.

"Question 15: Would you rather not being able to shower for a month or have the same clothes for a month?"

Sylvester was immediate in her response, "Not shower for a month, obviously. We can just bathe in baths instead."

Elsa laughed, cheerful and loud, "Never thought you'd be the one to take advantage of a loophole Sylvie."

Sylvester smile wholeheartedly, grey eyes sincere as she admitted, "I learned the best from my crafty little hermana."

"Aww," Elsa lightheartedly cooed, and proceeded forward, "Question 5: Who sleeps the most?"

Sylvester raised her hand, "Mother of one very curious and fussy niñita, right here."

"No arguments there," Elsa replied, "Question 14: Dream trip together?"

In a moment of synchronized thought between hermanas, they both state, "Spain."

"Question 16: Who's the older one?"

Sylvester raised her hand once again. Elsa flipped to the next flash card, "Question 10: Who had a weird phase?"

Both pondered for a moment, trying to think of any moment in their lives of such a phase.

"I don't think we were ever given a chance to do so," Elsa states. Sylvester hummed in agreement, shaking her head in confirmation.

"Alright then! Question 6..."

Elsa paused, reading the flash card: 'Who's Mom and Dad's favorite? (If there is one?)'

Sylvester waits, worry building in her gut, and asks, "What's the question?"

Elsa hesitated, but responded, "Who's.... mo- ahem, father's favorite..."

Sylvester briefly gaped, but recovered, stating, "Well, we both know the answer to that question is neither of us."

Elsa hummed, throwing the card away as she proceeded with the next one, "Question 18: Role Model? Mine's you, of course. But who's yours Sylvie?"

"I'd have to say Paul," Sylvester mustered out, clearing her throat, "He saved me after all. Raised me. Gave me something that we were denied."

"I wish I got to meet him," Elsa admits, "From what you told me, he was funny and dramatic."

Sylvester smiled at Elsa's words, "You two would have adored each other."

Allowing Sylvester a moment to keep herself together, Elsa proceeded to the next card, "Question 3: Who eats the most?"

She raised her hand this time, the various rings displayed for the camcorder to catch, "That'd be me! Speaking of which..."

Sylvester cringed, swiftly adding, "I had a sandwich earlier."

But Elsa was not deterred, "While that's good, you skipped breakfast nor have you had any fruits or snacks prior to lunch."

"I'll have something later," Sylvester flimsily promised. Elsa, not satisfied, retorts, "I'll hold you to that."

"Question 8: Worst habit of each one?"

Sylvester sighed, "Well, you already know mine. Though your recklessness is concerning considering your condition Elsa."

"I'm not made of glass, Sylvie."

"Elsa, your bones are brittle and break easily."

"...Okay I'm a little like glass, but I'm not stupid. I can take care of myself. I know what I'm doing when I climb a tree, or go bungee jumping or help Rae-Rae around her farm," Elsa defends. Her hermana replies, "I... I know that Elsa, but even so, you've been seeking out riskier and riskier thrills lately, and I can't... help but worry."

"I appreciate it," Elsa assures, and adds, "But you worry way too often."

Sylvester doesn't argue, and Elsa takes advantage of the momentary silence, "Question 4: Who has been on the weirdest situations?"

Neither hermana could think of either one being in a "weird" situation. Sylvester opted to gesture to Elsa, "Well, given your escapades so far, I vote you."

Elsa huffed, "Seeking thrill is not the same as getting stuck in chance and strange situations."

"And how likely am I going to be in such situations?"

Elsa mumbles, indistinctly playful, and moves on, "Question 20: A GIANT insect is on the wall, who's taking care of it?"

Sylvester raises a brow, "Whoever finds it first."

"Pfft, a bug ain't that scary," Elsa comments, "Question 17: Describe each other in three words."

Elsa and Sylvester held gaze for a moment blurted out their answer.

"My badass worrywart-hermana." "Daring little hermana."

There was a silent beat before both responded to such descriptions.

"Surely that is four words, Elsa," Sylvester argued, but Elsa interrupted with her pointer finger as she replied, "Ah, but you forget my lovely older hermana, the power a hyphen holds."

Sylvester shook her head in disbelief, but did not debate further as Elsa brought forth the next question, "Question 1: Who looks the... ah mierda, another one?"

'Who looks the most like dad?' the question read.

"Is it another relating to... him?" Sylvester tested, her lips pursed in a thin line, her voice softer and quieter than normal. Her grey eyes dulled, hands clenched into her jeans.

Elsa sighs, a hand going out of the camcorder's view, probably to play with her blonde locks, and most likely undo a braid in the process.

"I... Do you mind if we skip this one?" Elsa asks, and Sylvester eagerly nods, much to Elsa's relief, "Question 11: Best cook of the family?"

Elsa answers before Sylvester could have a chance, "Yeah, I can't cook for shit, that's you right there, Sylvie."

Sylvester closes mouth, making no comment on Elsa's lack of culinary skill. Elsa flips the next flash card, "Question 9: Who's the most dramatic?! Why that would be me!"

Sylvester nodded with absolute certainty.

"Question 8: Worst habit of each one?"

Sylvester beat Elsa to the tea, "I got this. I'm a nagging worrywart who forgets her own needs sometimes, and you, mi querida hermana, are a crafty daredevil with a big ego that often gets you into trouble."

"Hah! Wow, you know me so well," Elsa said, flipping to the next flash card, but mentions, "However, you're wrong in your description; you're not a nagger."

Sylvester doesn't visibly react to this, but she seems to be stuck in a forlorn gaze. However, the next question snaps her out of this odd pause, and Sylvester listens attentively.

"Question 13... uh, worst memory together?"

Sylvester and Elsa pondered together, brainstorming.

"Our entire childhood was jodido and never the best," Elsa mentions. Sylvester frowns, and points out, "Si, but the run for the docks weren't any better."

Elsa couldn't not hum in agreement, and she moves on, "Last Question. Number 2: Who looks the most like mom...?"

Sylvester looks baffled as Elsa blows a raspberry, "Irrelevant. We've never met nor did we have the same mother."

Elsa throws away that flashcard out of the camcorder's view, much to Sylvester's visible annoyance.

"And... that's it. We finished the game. Yay!" Elsa lightly cheered, her camcorder focusing on Sylvester, "So... food for thought?"

Silva watched herself, younger and with so much more innocence, more hope, than she had now. The camcorder in her gloved hands was running hot, the flashing sunset-red indicating a coming end, but she could care less, holding onto the memory in her hands for as long as she could.

Sylvester chewed her inner cheek and said, "Besides two nosy ones, I'd say it was... nice?"

Elsa's mock offended gasp was as exaggerated as the younger hermana's mannerisms had always been, "Just 'nice'? This is a memorial moment for the both of us. It is evidence for Persephone to watch and rewatch for years to come."

Elsa placed the camcorder on the coffee table, and sat down next to Sylvester on the couch, a big grin spread out, pearly teeth shown. She grabs a hold of Sylvester's laced gloved hands, despite the latter's exasperation over the former's words.

"Wasn't it you who emphasized the importance of this? To immortalize ourselves through memories our family can visit decades after we're gone? Whether it be through ink, our voices or our image? You have to agree that this is quite a viable way to do that," Elsa assures Sylvester, who's doubt dissipated the longer she thought.

The camcorder began to buffer, the orange-red blinking faster, but Silva continued to watch, wanting to savoir this for as long as she could.

Sylvester's grey eyes looked to Elsa, softly asking, "Okay. But I have to ask; are you sure?"

Elsa laughed, her dimples caught by the camcorder's lens, as she says-

Nothing.

The camcorder's screen was blank, only reflecting Silva. The blinking light gone, the heat prevalent, and despite desperately pushing the power button repeatedly, Silva knew she wouldn't get those reassuring words she needed to hear. Not now. Nor ever again.

Silva's shoulders slumped, still sat down on the old wooden floor in the decrepit corpse of her home. The home she had taken care of for almost a decade. Even after her hermana's death, despite the ache for her visits. Even after Persephone's passing, though the yearning for her hija's laughter echoing in the halls hurt more and more with their absence.

And now... her residence, her home, was nothing more than a burned and decrepit husk full of dust and debris. All the memories that mattered, all the memories she held close to her, the journals, the photos, the shrines they rested under, were all tattered and ripped and frayed and singed and gone. Just gone.

And now... with exception to Silva's own visage of Elsa... the last thing of her hermana that she could have shown to her familia, could no longer function. The Collapse had reduced the resources required to charge such a small device to ash. Even if something survived, the camcorder was aged, and had some bugs.

Silva flipped the lid screen closed, clutching the little camcorder in her gloved hands, pushing it against her chest as she let out a shaky breath. The foliage that claimed her house rustled as a breeze swept past.

She shook where she sat, holding onto the pain, the knowledge that change has come and another chance away from her before she could appreciate it.

The wood creaked, and Silva didn't want to look at her amor's beautiful face, didn't want to shoulder her with more of her own pain and grief. But a dainty hand cupped her face, and Silva couldn't resist, relenting to her beloved's request.

Her tearful grey eyes connected with the warm green of Faith's. Her beloved, her esposa, her amor. Her Faith.

I am hers. And she is mine. As we both vowed.

And Silva wouldn't hide herself away from her. Couldn't. Even if she tried. How could she? They both knew the best and worst of each other. Intimately.

There was no judgement pitting them against one another anymore. Like now, there was only understanding. The grief for a present that they could no longer return to.

Silva did not resist the tears that fell across her cheeks. Nor did she push away Faith when she wrapped her arms around her. An embrace that held a strength that others underestimated about her. Both possessive and a comfort. All to tell Silva, I'm here.

Silva felt two more pairs of arms hold around her. The first was of her inventive Azriel, her grip unyielding as she buried herself into Silva's shoulder, just like she had done when she found her at age nine.

And the second came from her youngest. Her Mercy, clutching onto her with small hands, light-brown hair nuzzling into her body, perhaps not quite knowing why her madre was sad now that they were out of the bunker, but doing her best to lighten the load with her presence.

Silva placed down the old camcorder, and did her best to compensate in the embrace by wrapping her arms around her Faith and precious hijas. Her familia.

The grief was ever present, but this time, Silva would not be lost to it.

[A/n] I lied, the fluff was merely a front, there's only angst here. Well, mostly at least. Set before Old Dusk (the New Dawn WIP), with only a camcorder showing pre-Silva's Hope stuff. They probably only recently left Silva's bunker and well, Silva's obviously gonna be depressed about the state of everything. At least she has her family to keep her grounded? Also I haven't written in a while, so if it was repetitive or tone death, my bad, I've been trying to get my motivation back. Anywho, hope you enjoyed this lovely (and angsty) oneshot, and see y'all in the next one!

[ratscrap]

get pathfinder'd bitch

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Sword of Kaigen

standalone fantasy set in a rural mountain village at the edge of an empire that still holds traditional values, with families of powerful water/ice magic warriors

follows a powerful young heir who begins to question his beliefs about the empire when a new boy comes to his village from the city

and his mother, a housewife who has tried to forget her youth as a warrior and vigilante in the city since she moved back home to a loveless marriage

when there’s a violent attack on their village that they’re unprepared for, everything changes, and she has to embrace her old skills to protect her family and people