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paradoxicalloop · 4 years

Note

hey so MMA can you talk about it? Idk I’m interested in it! How long have you been doing it for/how does it work(sorry for the dumb questions hehe)

No not a dumb question I love talking about it.

But in all honesty I did quit I think 3 years ago (because the division of the MMA studio I went to got shut down and they had to move us to another studio and I didn’t like it there) anyway. Every MMA studio is different but I can talk about my experience.

I did MMA (or we usually just call it karate most of the time) for about 8-9 years? Basically, you start out with white belt (of course) and every few months or so you would get to test for your next belt. To train for that next belt there were 4 things you were tested on: each belt had it’s own specific 1) form 2) one-steps 3) ju-jitsu 4) and board break.

A form is a really cool looking sequence of moves you that you have to memorize. (they’re really cool, look up karate forms on Youtube if you want some examples). Each belt has 1 form that goes with it.

A “one step” is basically a mulitstep move (i know the name is misleading) that is essentially exibiting how one would respond if some steps and punches at you. They could be as simple as blocking the punch with one arm and then (mining, not actually hitting them) punch, punch, palmstrike; or as advanced as hip-tossing them to the floor or grabbing their arm, swinging underneath it and then (safely) choking them from behind. Each belt has 2 one-steps you need to master.

The ju-jitsu...(idk what noun im supposed to add to this, sequences? sure let’s go with that) The ju-jitsu sequences are a lot like one steps, where u practice one technique, but they’re on the floor (the art of ju-jitsu is a type of knee-wrestling martial art). These could vary from how to get out from being pinned a certain way, to learning one choke or arm lock. Each belt has 1-2 ju-jitsu moves you need to master.

And lastly, boardbreaks. one of the most hyped up parts, and the last part of test day. It’s pretty self explanatory, you are assigned a move you must be able to break a wooden board with. But the boards do vary in thickness, especially for the little kids. (Also i know i said you’re assigned one move, but actually when ur testing for ur black belt u have to do four, but i’ll explain black belt testing in a bit) However, you should never try to break a board by just straight punching it like they do in the movies (and some other martial arts but idk how they do it there) you could damage your fingers that way.

In between practicing all of that we also do knee-wrestling, sparing, and practicing technique.

The regular testing is just an hour or so where ur family watches u do all the things listed above. But black belt testing is way different

Black Belt Testing

Ik this is a relatively small part of karate but I found it really important when I did it, and it’s a three day process, so I want to talk about it. But also if I remember correctly I’m technically not legally allowed to talk about it in this much detail so please don’t share this around too much

Black belt testing only happens once a year, and the training process is very extreme and lasts from August until the test in November. And well, the mantra for black belt testing is “someone will bleed, someone will cry, and someone will throw up,” and they really aren’t exaggerating.

First , you have to do running and push-ups nearly every day. You are required to run at least a mile outside of class once every three days, and I think 50 pushups (or as many as you can do, on ur knuckles, without dropping to ur knees) every day (they give you a log to keep track of this).

You also have to get up every Saturday morning for a special black-belt candidates only class. During that class they usually have you start with running three miles (to be able to pass testing you have to be able to run 3 miles in 30 minutes, and you arent allowed to walk at all while running those 3 miles)

AND you have to do 10 “acts of kindness” outside of class and log them, because “being a black belt isnt just about having the belt, its about showing the respect, politeness, etc. of a black belt.”

And that’s just the prep, if you can survive that then you actually get to test. The testing itself is a 3 day event, two are held in private and the last day is a ceremony for family to watch. If I remember correctly this is how these days play out:

First day: private testing. It happens on a Saturday morning, adrenaline’s high. We start off with warm up, listen to the head instructors speech about how this isnt going to be easy and how proud he is that we’re here, do line drills (preforming one move over and over again while walking in a line across the room), and then do our form, one steps, and ju-jitsu sequences for the instructors. There are also plenty of sets of push ups randomly thrown in (they say that during all the test days combined you are required to do at least 500 push ups). Push ups are also randomly dealt to the class if someone doesnt say “Yes sir” or “yes ma’am” loud enough, if we are being in any way disrespectful, etc.

Second day: The hard one (imo). This happens a week after the first test. After warm up we put on our shoes and then walk across the street to the track, we get yelled at (sometimes encouragingly) during our run, and I, in typical me fashion, end up throwing up (yes this happened both times). We then have to do knuckle pushups on the concrete. (yay.) After you’re sweaty and tired from that you get to spare! You have multiple rounds of sparing, some of them with tall adults you dont know, and honestly just try to survive. After that we move on to knee wrestling, more pushups, and then the day is over.

The Third Day: The ceremony. If you’ve made it this far you will very likely receive your black belt, the third day is really just for show. This is held in the Sunday after the second test. Instead of the karate studio it’s held in a really nice gymnasium and all your family is there to watch. You’ve been assigned a place to stand and have done practice runs because everything has to be perfect. You start of with warm up, making sure to tell yes sir and yes ma’am as loud as you can and stand up in attention as straight as possible (which u can imagine was very hard for me /j) when instructed. Then you do line drills again, your form, a round or 2 of sparing, and then the hard part. The big build up: board breaks. Each board is actually 2 boards tapped together and u have to break 4 sets of them and then you can finally relax. (I cried both times because I wasn’t able to break them quickly). Then they hand u ur certificate and u have to awkwardly shake all the adults hands. Then they dismiss everyone and u did it!

I know I’ve painted a lovely picture of the MMA/Karate experience but honestly it is really fun. It’s an amazing adrenaline rush, it helps you feel a sense of accomplishment, and going through all this with peers builds really good friendships. It was such a fun journey and I really do recommend it for anyone who wants to try it out. I learned so much and my time there really shaped me as a person and it was just so good. Honestly I wish I could do it again.

I’m so sorry this post is so long but I mean u did tell me to just talk about it so I gave you all the details you could have wanted.

#Em!!#not tagging this with topical tags because I don’t want people to see this #ask #long post #also I wrong this at midnight please excuse any incoherent rsd #I did not type ‘rsd’?? what happened there?

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thestralwarfare · 4 years

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A ramble of sorts.

So if y'all know me, y'all be knowing my mental climate, its not the best, at least not right now it isnt.

I'm at an impasse caught between crossroads that extend, beyond the regular 3d visual and clichè "crossroad".

It's more of reaching the dendrites of a neuron and having to choose which specific synapse to travel across.

Basically, I'm a dumbass, now I know what you're gonna a say, no you aren't blah blah blah. But consider this.

I am.

In the world of humans and social interaction and its evolution to shrinking the world in terms of connectivity and accessibility, we tend to get caught up in the endless spiel or drivel that you have to be readily accessible at all times regardless of who you are and what you do.

I agree with that to an extent, some instances it really is the difference in life or death, so say from the view of medical professionals, asking for help, giving the location of a patient that needs urgent or emergency aid, it's basically paramount now to have it integrated right? Right.

But consider this,

I'm tired, I'm exhausted, I'm in no where emotionally or mentally able to extend myself more than my mind and after basically running that damned event I lost more of my sanity than I thought, I'm finally starting to put the pieces of my mind together and it's like I'm being bombarded with colossal meteors.

As to who or what is rolling out these mental near death blows doesn't negate the fact that I'm not able to deal with it well.

I've gone softer than I was.

I was more resilient than this, I had a heart of glazed glass but now it seems as though life wants to reenter this seemingly inanimate organ.

Why must my heart bleed? The only things that come from my empathy and feelings end up being painful. No one truly knows how to deal with someone with empathy well at least none that I've truly met.

But I try to understand how people won't be able to tell who you are or how your mental state is or how you actually on social media look doesn't reflect the mental load that's on your plate.

We are across screens communicating (mostly) via written words. It's obvious you dont see the panic ridden near corpse of a body that reels out those abysmal hysterical jokes, or the Voldemort under the bench at kings cross station appearance of my heart.

You dont know the human you are dealing with. You dont know how deeply they feel. You dont know who they really are and how they are fighting tooth and nail to stand up for themselves and be strong when all it feels like is a façade to them.

Standing up for myself?- selfishness

Wanting to heal myself (a task that I do all the time because I'm not gonna waste anyone's time)- selfish

Building confidence in myself when I dont know what it feels like- an impossible attempt at grasping the void caught betwixt stars

Loving myself- okay I'm failing at this because I am disgusting etc etc body dysmorphia periodt.

The other things I'm working on deal with anxiety, PTSD etc etc etc thanks for coming to the Ted talk periodt take 2.

No one or maybe very few in this modern age, would truly understand what it is liketo be raised to be a people pleaser, to sacrifice who you are, burn your very essence, your core, lose your path in life to help someone then when it's time for you to finally try to heal yourself. It's as if you are going to a kingdom you called home to find ruins, no familiarity no way or know how of what to fix or where to start from. You just stand there paralyzed with warm piss running down your legs cause you are afraid of what you see or rather, dont see anymore.

On top of thatttt

The people that say they care, developing attachment to them.

"Having to deal with such strong emotions that the smallest feeling of care from someone feels as though they are the only one rooting for you, you begin to idolize them, to need them, to crave them to become dependent on them."- as per the draft of this here post.

One day out of the goddamn blue,

Its night, no twilight, no stars, no moon, no foothold nothing.

It hits. No warning, no flag in the distance heralding its return.

It's a guest I've entertained for decades. Depression.

This time she bought gifts,

- lack of feeling joy in what would normally bring joy to my life such as art or music or anything creative tbh

-apathy, self explanatory but when it hits no one is truly able to understand how deep it cuts the ties that you hold, it takes away more than just the superficial and deep emotions, it takes away your reasoning as to why those emotions were there or if those emotions were even real.

-sui ideation. Self explanatory again but it's never been this strong and I've never had to hold myself back as much as I've had to do these past weeks.

-low mood, if y'all thought my final finals and that thing that happened then had me at my lowest, you would be right, but getting significantly close to that again....it was exhausting having to deal with it.

-low energy and moving slower than before

-change in appetite, from binging to starving myself

Then imagine while having these wonderful events occurring having to take a look at yourself from an outside perspective and seeing what it's doing to them, the people that say they care or have feelings for you.

To feel like you are wasting their life, too feel that whatever you shared is nothing but a farce because no one can truly care for a disaster. Hurricane skinned and magma filled veins.

You see, it doesn't matter what anyone says over the Internet it's hard to ascertain how much someone really means what they intend to say. Communication extends beyond words and people often times tend to forget that.

You can say that you care or that you had feelings, but there was no way to show it.

There is no real reassurance.

What could be better than sinking without dragging others down with you.

My closest friends have suspected something is up, the feel the change in the air as well.

It's like we are all prepping for it.

Will I or won't I?

The urge is there, the pros of it far outweighs the cons.

It's better if everyone that says they care leave.

It's easier that way.

Its always easy to lose the memory of the shape of smoke.

Tl;dr this human has pretty much tied up most if not all loose ends.

Those that care will move on to others, it's the way of life and I harbor no I'll will. I only want the best for everyone always.

Those that dont care, I also want the best for you maybe even more so, because I know your feelings are genuine and never had to second guess it.

To the fam, twas lit, like an atomic bomb.

Let's all be real here no one will miss me.

My fight isnt over, I'm still struggling to survive, as to why I'm even bothering idek anymore.

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blossomvnk · 5 years

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this darkness swallows us whole; chapter one

The world ends at night with flames licking every corner of the earth. Smoke rises up in heavy clouds, filling her lungs and stinging her eye. She coughs and heaves for breath, desperately searching for an escape from the fire.

When asked, later on, she tells the police that’s all she remembers. She had passed out before she made it out of the room, she tells them. She doesn’t know what happened.

They hover over her, pitying, when her mouth moves but no sound comes out. The paper pad in her hands is stained black with ash when she moves her fingers. The soot on her hands could replace the lead pencil. She tries to focus on that rather than everything she didn’t mention.

She doesn’t mention how the fire was deliberate. Or how she saw human figures with animal faces disappear in the flames.

She doesn’t mention how she didn’t scream when her parents died, with their arms around each other, turned black with burns and with flames licking at their feet. She can vividly remember every place where their skin melted and fused together.

Instead, she sets the pad of paper down and tries to breathe around the smoke in her lungs.

Whatever else happened that night, she doesn’t remember. It doesn’t matter, in any case.

The world has ended.

All that remained was an empty shell of an orphan, a barely alive Camellia.

Within a week, Camellia is sent to live with distant family members, people she’s never heard of before, living in one of the many old castles that dot the country, clinging to the ties of royalty that meant nothing in a dead kingdom. Though they’ve never met her before, but they agree to take her in until she is of age and can live on her own.

Everything she owns, everything that survived the fire, fits in a single travel bag that feels far too light when she holds it. Though she’s had it for days now, she’s afraid to see what’s inside. Looking at the barely charred remnants of her life would only make it more real and force her out of the glass bubble of apathy she’s put herself in.

The carriage driver offers her a sympathetic smile when he arrives. Camellia doesn’t notice. He helps her into the carriage and quickly drops his attempts of conversation when she avoids his gaze and keeps her head bowed.

She still feels ash in her throat.

She still feels smoke curling in her lungs.

She still burns.

The carriage lurches forwards and sets off, going down the dirty cobblestone streets. The clattering of the steel wheels follows that of the horses’ iron hooves. It’s loud and repetitive, and Camellia lets it lull her into a daze until everything feels like a distant dream.

Her body is numb. She can barely feel the cold of the window as she leans her head against it, letting every bump and jump of the carriage rattle her skull.

She doesn’t know how long she remains like that; staring, unseeing, out the window, still as a statue. The sun has moved significantly in the sky when she comes to. The wide open plains and hills give way to heavy forest and Camellia has never felt so alone.

A shaking hand clutches the fabric of her skirt, and she takes large, shuddering breaths as she tries to force the tears welling up in her eye away. The emptiness surrounding her is suffocating.

It doesn’t matter.

She hasn’t been able to breathe since the fire tore her world to pieces.

Camellia draws her legs up onto the carriage seat and curls into herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and wishing she could disappear from the world. She lets herself imagine disappearing, vanishing, ceasing to exist. She would no longer be human. She would no longer breathe. The whistling of the wind and the sway of the branches outside would replace her. The forest would steal her soul and bury it under the dark soil until something good would be able to grow.

When she lifts her head and looks out the dirty window, a scream builds up in her chest. It bubbles up in her throat, and then stops, choking her with fear.

They were here.

Animal faces on human bodies. Dancing around flames. Dancing between trees. Hiding in smoke, foliage, leaves, ash -- what is past and what is present clashes inside Camellia’s mind until she’s back in the fire watching her parents die as she sits frozen in the carriage. The face of a raven, crude and dark and roughly shaped, peers out at her from between the trees for a brief moment before the carriage pulls past it.

The carriage hits a large rock and the impact sends Camellia falling back, forcing her to look away from the forest and the phantom flames brought out by vivid memory.

For a long moment, she doesn’t move. She barely dares to breathe lest they see her again. She presses her back into the carriage walls, feels it rub against the knobs of her spine, and tries to keep her heart from leaping out of her mouth.

Shadows of trees flash against the floor, and Camellia watches them as she tries to free herself from the frozen state she was in. The sight of her bag on the floor, forced open, and the contents laying in a messy pile puts movement back into her limbs.

Camellia pushes off the wall and kneels besides the bag. She turns each item over in her hands before putting them back into the bag with a heavy heart.

A journal her father had half-completed, her mother’s favorite mirror with the deer handle, a blackened pocket watch, ash-stained ribbons; each one makes her heart tighten until the pain makes her eye water and leak.

The last thing she picks up burns her. She feels smoke crawling up her throat as she stares at it with a wide eye, gently brushing her fingers over the chain. The purple gem brings back memories of being younger and trying on her mother’s too-big shoes, drowning in the fabric of her mother’s prettiest skirt. In the background, the sound of her mother’s laughter rings out and echoes around Camellia’s head.

She doesn’t bury the necklace deep into the bag. Instead, she lifts the chain over her head and puts it on, letting the cold amethyst rest against her chest.

It’s a small comfort, but at least it’s easy to pretend she can still hear her mother’s laughter with the necklace on. The silence crushes her more, wraps a hand around her heart and twists until the beating stops and Camellia is sure she’s going to die.

If only it was that easy, she thinks, bitter and cold.

She lets herself fall sideways until she’s sprawled along the seat of the carriage, a hand on the amethyst and the other pillowing her head. The steady bumping of the carriage lulls her into a dreamless sleep. Hours pass in that blank darkness behind her eyelid, and when Camellia wakes, it’s with a startled jump that sends her shooting up into an upright position, spine rigid. Her heart’s in her throat, beating so fast she feels as though it’s trying to burst out of her ribcage. Terror runs through her veins but there’s no threat nearby and she can’t quite figure out why she’s so scared.

The sun had fallen beneath the horizon, the final rays sweeping over the hills and forest. It’s darker now, but the inside of the carriage is secure and safe; there’s no reason to be afraid.

With deep breaths, Camellia manages to slow her heartbeat, but her hands still shake with lingering fear as she tries to convince herself that everything’s fine.

Because while on a surface level it’s true, there’s something else that sets her on edge. She doesn’t know what it is; she doesn’t know if she wants to know.

The rhythmic bumping of the carriage on the dirt road abruptly changes to cobblestone rattles.

“We’ve arrived, Miss,” the driver calls out to Camellia.

---

jsyk i wrote this first chapter for this draft a couple years ago (bc school is busy and i write when i can which isnt often) but i’m 20 chapters in and wanted to get some opinions on how this introduction to the story works. any thoughts? suggestions? likes/dislikes? i’m probably gonna post a few more chapters (not in chronological order) for thoughts about writing styles. so be on the lookout.

taglist: @axelcat @incandescent-eden

(finally started a taglist lol)

#s: this darkness #writeblr #story excerpt #god this makes me cringe i cant wait to finish this draft and revise the hell out of it #anyways heres the start of camellia!!#what a mess lol. but damn that potential.#also how tf u write first chapters that shits hard.

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queernuck · 5 years

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Virtual Valentines

this should hardly come as news in general, or even in particular since i am already listed by @klonopin-cruise-control in her bio as her fiancée (and the only reason she isnt listed in mine is because I havent fucked with the code on my blog in ages and i need to do that, i may do it soon to see what new colors and information i can put, update pages as necessary, so on) and that while I describe her both as my girlfriend and as my fiancée, neither is incorrect and both feel as if they capture a different essence of our relationship in that girlfriend has that vibe of nostalgic and new all at once, is flirty and fun, while fiancée evokes shopping for wedding dresses and getting advice from your gay friends on what the best wedding hall in town is. And both are a part of our relationship, both are very much a part of us much in the same way that our own love affairs with drugs and self-destruction are parts of who we have been and who we are, how romance and rage at the things that we cannot stand are guiding forces for us, how much Charlie and I both are brought together by firm senses of what should and should not be, and how one thing that should be is the love between us, how naturally and quickly we became engaged and how easy it is to just refer to that offhand, to want to explain to befuddled friends who think they missed some major life event rather than the extension of who two people are, a foregone conclusion from the moment we met. She is lovely, she is adorable, she is taller than me and so so sweet and I very much cannot wait to visit her and get absurdly irresponsibly intoxicated with her.

But life is full of surprises, many of them pleasant ones, others less so. While Patrick Mahomes having a Super Bowl Ring is a pleasant surprise, that Brady and the Patriots lost to the Titans after a downward spiral that the Ravens kicked off, the Ravens who in turn lost to those same Titans, seems as if it is some sort of cosmic shift, a kind of alignment that is so rare, so wonderful that it must denote some kind of moment of cosmic importance despite so many apparent insignificants going into it, the way in which our own interpretation of it becomes what it is, how our love and growing into affinity with the world we see becomes a means of knowing, how a rejection of the metaphysical or material is itself a materialism or metaphysical claim, specters of Marx and the marks of the spectral continually reinscribing themselves upon us in the rituals and means of being and becoming that we choose for ourselves, the ways that we mark our bodies and how our bodies are striated, how exactly we make our lives that which they are.

Now, they aren’t going to see this on their dash because I don’t think they’ve looked at their dash in weeks (if not months) but I have very, very recently also started dating Maggs @ultraheavensdoor after reaching out to them on Instagram. That is an opportunity I would not have had until recently, as my previous iPhone 4 made tumblr look even more broken than usual, had made facebook unusable, served to text and send selfies to my email for later download onto an antiquated MacBook Pro and little else. I could reach out to the world in a certain way but it was not much. With the refurbished iPhone I recieved, I at least gained some means to contact people like Charlie while away from the house, a sense of the new hybrid of Digital and Virtual that contemporary interfaces lead to one being faced with, how the transformation of the world through the overarching Virtual is interfaced with when one has even remotely contemporary Digital devices at one’s disposal. Many of my relationships have been profoundly shaped by the Virtual, last night was the first time I Skyped with Maggs and I was immediately grinning, so incredibly awestruck by their face, their voice, their very being. Truthfully, it was not the first time I had been stricken in this fashion, I had harbored feelings of warmth and care in my heart toward them for some time, had an unfinished crush that dated back for about as long as I had known them on here.

But I reached out, I attempted to throw a wire, a new means of connecting, a digital strand within the Virtual, which is always a scary thing to do. And not only was it caught, it was pulled tight, it began flowing as if it had been plugged into some output I could barely comprehend, the way that a PS2 would look if plugged into a 4K HD display, how your image feels reflected back not by a mirror, but by a Jumbotron. Their feelings returning to me were so amazing, so wonderful, but most of all, so much in tune with what I had hoped for, what I had wished for, the most wonderful of wonders I could expect.

When I gave them my number, I may as well have been telling them to rent a UHaul. One might contend that it is not as sudden as imagined, as it seems, because of how this traces back through crushes, through mutual admiration, through Charlie and I having a relationship not closed but not lacking sans opening, a relationship defined neither positively nor negatively by a lack of other partners, a relationship gorgeous unto itself, one of love and support and phone calls from telephones that have not been replaced since the mid-90s with yellowed exteriors and scuffs and scratches, phones that are merely trying their best just as we are, whispers and discussion of how parents or police or nurses or whomever may be a reason to hang up for now but always always always part of why we will come back, why we will always come back to one another, just as Maggs will always go back to Ellen, their wife and someone I am so glad exists for how happy and amazing I see Maggs thanks to them, how we have both entered places in our lives where the polyamory that Maggs and I extend to one another and to our own partners is a form of assemblage, of re-negotating the hierarchies of friendship and romance in our own lives, of finding new ways to make and re-make our bodies, our identities, with one another.

As a bisexual trans girl with a GNC appearance, attraction often comes at a premium, often the denial of some part of myself either in writing and naming myself or in showing myself as if I am something else entirely. But when I bare myself for them, when I reveal as much as I can, I do not fear rejection because of how these exchanges are a vital part of how all of us relate. Maggs is my girl/boyfriend because of their fluidity, their own understanding of my adjacency to the idea of the faggot, to how I may have identities that give me a great deal of affinity with those marked by the same label, the community of fags that I love and the larger community around me that endures so much, that has to contend with so much merely in surviving that being able to be ourselves and to experience one another in so many different ways is a vital expression, a vital act of creating ambiguity and discursive potentiality when it is so often limited by contingency and supposedly untranslatable acts of differentiation, a differance that must be italicized, bolded, realized as a translator’s note rather than finding later life as a rich warm broth of love and comfort, cut and pasted and edited until it forms a kind of continuity that could not be imagined except through working through that difference, difficulty, the act of subtilting the body such that i am a trans woman exploring my own identity with my girlfriend, my boyfriend, my partner, their wonderful ways of being and becoming mirroring mine so wonderfully.

I am making sure that this is the first thing I post on Valentine’s Day specifically because I want it to be a declaration of love, admiration, of just how amazing and special this turn is, how absurdly lucky I feel that this is when and how things have turned out, that I am here at this very moment. Things may not always be easy, in fact I am certain that they are not, but at the very least they include these people, they include my love and joy and all of the things I have come to know and all of the wonders I have yet to discover.

I love you, Charlie.

I love you, Maggs.

I love all of you reading this, lets all love lain, thank you Srećko Horvat for your help and thank Instagram for allowing Maggs and I to have corresponding Rei and Asuka icons in this day and age as children of the 90s.

Happy Valentine’s Day

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joyfulsongbird · 5 years

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flower anon goes to hadestown and has a TIME

so there is no possible way for me to express my feelings and emotionsTM about Hadestown or my weekend in New York in an ask so I am sending them here. Just for context: I saw four shows in two days (my bank account is extremely pissed at me but it was worth it) and they were all special and phenomenal in their own ways. However, we do not have all the time in the world so I am just going to word vomit about Hadestown.

So it is Sunday morning, I am on 48th and I am seeing The Lightening Thief at 1 but I made brownies for the cast and crew (as well as a separate batch for Eva because last time someone bought treats to the show she didn’t get one) and I was unsure if security would let me into the theatre with the food. So I “stagedoored” Hadestown as the cast and crew were coming in for the morning. I gave the first batch to Kay and she was incredibly sweet and lovely. I explained that the brownies were in fact not full of drugs (I do not have the money for that!!) which she laughed at and then we went on our merry ways.

After Lightening Thief I had some time to kill before Hadestown so I went to dinner and when I walked back to the Walter Kerr they were stagedooring for the matinee show. I decided to wait and give Eva the batch that I made for her because I literally had nothing else to do. So Eva comes out and I’m at the very end so I am expecting her to come to me last (which is fine, I was going to see her again at the evening stagedoor!) but she STRUTTED down my way and I explained that these were for her and that I hoped she was surviving the two show day. She said that she had to give me a hug and of course I accepted. Then she complimented my top (which was leopard print) and exposed her neck tattoo and was like “they match!!” Eva was so lovely and then I left to let the people stagedooring enjoy their experience.

Fast forward a little I am sitting in the Walter Kerr and it is starting to come over me that I am actually here and about to see this show. Then the light dims and Andre came out and opened the show. Saying “aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight” back in harmony with the audience was indescribable, just as the actors were centring themselves for the show, I was centring myself for an unforgettable experience.

Now I am just going to transition into some notes about the show (i would do every song but we would be here a while, so I am just doing what impacted me the most/I recall):

The first trombone note played and INSTANTLY my eyes were misty oops

when Hermes is introducing everyone Orpheus was kind of fidgeting/extending his fingers in a very specific way and was a very cute and subtle way of expressing his kind of nervousness/anxiety/ticks whatever you want to refer to it as

The la la las hit so different live like holy shit the way the sound radiates around the theatre is magical and unlike anything else.

The first interaction of Orpheus and Eurydice had my heart soft and I was not ready in any shape or form for anything to happen to them other than love and happiness

At the end of Road to Hell when Hermes sings “we’re going to sing it again” Hermes WENT OFF. The lighting is absolutely gorgeous and the whole cast is like jazz handing at him and he holds it for an ungodly length of time and it was a legendary opening.

HEARING EVA LIVE WAS EVERYTHING i watched her with wide eyes and so much love in my heart like i didn’t realise how intense the sound would be in a live space. I dont know shit about how sound and mics work but man like it is so different live the whole show I had chills.

Come home with me and wedding song are so fucking tender and horny like god i love this couple so much i had a bad seat for watching Eurydice drop her coat shoulder when she tells orpheus if he wants to take her home he better werk but the teasing tone in her voice was iconic and his little breathy hitch got me like isahdfsdhflhdf

During living it up on top when Eurydice dances with the workers chorus she did the Leg KickTM and I felt blessed

also during his toast Orpheus’ voice broke when he said “To the Patroness” and it was the cutest thing in the world i love my nervous son

All I’ve ever known was the first song to make me cry cry, it is just so sweet and such a special depiction of love and really hit home for me. it says a lot about me that the tender and horny song is the one that broke me. When the leg thing happened I was unable to breathe for a moment

the tender horniess continues during way down, and i specifically watched the kiddos because I love to suffer. They start on a stool and orpheus kisses her neck while she taps the beat of the song on his thigh and theyre just so in love my heart could not take it. They move then to the centre of the stage and spoon and you can see Orpheus’ feet tapping along to the music here too.

Chant is so fucking sexy there is literally no other way to describe it, everything about the design and the way it is performed is so so so good like h o l y s h i t it is so good. However I hate Hades sunglasses and wish they were different because they just make him look like my racist uncle lol

Wait for me gave me a panic attack because i was very worried about bby orpheus getting bonked on the head but also THE LIGHTING IS SO SEXY the lighting tony was so well deserved i’m glad the american theatre wing did like at least one (1) thing right. Also i was full on crying at this point.

Why we build the wall…. powerful shit I watched persephone during this and her facial expressions tell such an intense story of love, hate, desperation, and drunkenness.

flowers rekt me and left me for dead. it was such an emotional performance and i personally resonate with this song a lot (haha thats trauma baby) AND THEN THE TRANSITION TO TENDER LOVING COME HOME WITH ME stomped on my grave. also orpheus ran right by me and i was like GO GET HER YOU LANKY FUCK

i usually don’t listen past flowers because self care and I was already an emotional mess so when if its true began i was full on weeping. I felt so bad for the people next to me, you physically see orpheus break down and it shattered me and then rebuild with the support of the worker and the hope become restored (but it isnt strong enough in the end (OUCH))

epic iii instrumental with the dance was just so full of young love hades and persephone just beam at eachother in this new wonderful way and once again, i was weeping because orpheus did it he la la laed the world back into tune and it is so tender and so full of love

EVAS BELT IN WAIT FOR ME REPRISE GOT ME FEELING ALL KINDS OF CRAZY i was leaning so aggressively forward in my seat i want to remember that sound FOREVER

doubt comes in was a really bad time. obviously i know the story but something about the show makes you hold on to all the hope in the world and I was literally sitting in my seat, my nails digging into the flesh of my palm thinking “cmon orpheus you know who you are you can do this hold on please hold on” AND THEYRE SO SNEAKY WITH THE LIGHTS IT GETS HOPEFUL AND THE SET COMES BACK TOGETHER AND THEN IT HAPPENS AND OH LORD i audibly gasped and the tears were STREAMING down my face and the face of the lady next to me who had no idea of the story rip to her man

i literally cannot recall any of road to hell reprise visually because my eyes were so messed up with tears but hermes voice was almost like a blanket coming to wrap me up and hold me again after all that hurt and hold on to the hope that it might in fact turn out next time we sing it

also i made an active choice to not listen to we raise our cups before the show and BOY HOWDY that was a choice because the moment it began the tears came once more and it was magical watching the audience (all standing, get that standing ovation) taking in the last little bit of magic that the show offers you and the feeling of hope and light that seeing a sunflower in all of its beauty brings.

after the show i stagedoored and was lucky enough to meet and talk with Cherie the SM (she called the show too so I felt rlly lucky) and she wished me good luck in law school then i met John, Timothy, Jewelle, Anthony, Kimberly, and of course Reeve and Eva. I might have cried on the train home and yeah it was just this absolutely incredible and life changing moment, I feel so lucky that I was able to go it was worth it in every sense of the word. Hadestown went above and beyond and I will hold on to the memories forever.

#IT SOUNDED AMAZING #IM SO JEALOUS BUT SO HAPPY FOR YOU #eva sounded so sweet im dying #🌸 anon #submission

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umbillicalnoose · 5 years

Note

i think that you would think im pretty and would like my poetry and i want to share it with you. im shy.

to be honest, im very apathetic these days. im not the nice “cutesy baby flower petal boy” i used to be. a lot has happened & im bitter & sullen & all in all, a pretty shitty friend/person to know. i used to possess some redeeming qualities, believe it or not, even if they were construed by the subconscious in an attempt to be likeable - a facade, even tho its only a facade, is still tangible, still there, is still something, even if not authentic. is poorer character forgivable in the name of presenting more authentically? but nah. that makes it sound like im putting effort into being a better person, which im not. im just sort of fried & done. its been a very long time since i played the role i built for myself on here of the “small fawn boy who wants to help girls” lmaooo. how embarrassing. altho, i was just a kid, & i guess, if you had a tumblr as a teenager, you went thru some cringe (i know the use of that word has fallen in on itself & adopted its own definition but for lack of a better one) ass phases, whether it was kinning or malingering mental illness or oh fucking christ, all that gender bullshit, etc etc. from what ive observed, tho, loosely following kids im still casually friends with that i met on here, i think we’ve all managed to Grow The Fuck Up, at least a little. most of us have jobs or r in school or have partners - growing up & moving on is a very surreal experience to watch/go thru. im moving at my own pace & ive accepted that - im still currently using & starving myself & concocting a suicide plan every day but at least i use clean needles as much as possible, i actively & honestly do strive for the bare minimum calorically, & um able to work with the mentality of “well ill have this when i need it but todays not that day” a lot more readily, in relation to suicide shit. ive finally found a therapist who Really Gets It, is a frontrunner internationally on ritual & extreme abuse & mind control. its pretty incredible what a few years with a good therapist can do. anyways. im sorry, i know you didnt ask for all this & im not even sure why i divulged. i guess, what tipped me off, was your attempt at sounsing “cute” - dude, cut that shit out, i promise youll be a lot better off. & i know everyone interchanges aspects of their personality based on who theyre talking to/who they percieve themselves to be talking to, but i feel like not a lot of people give enough credence to the internet & its hand in shaping/molding young people, kids, vulnerable dumbasses, especially tumblr (tho, i get that its a relatively new phenomenon) - u get a bunch of the “weird”, “alternative”, ““ostracized” kids together on a website, of course its gonna nurture a culture of hypervalidatoon & pretending to be sick in order to fit in to the point that its not an act anymore & exacerbation of symptoms & basically, just sucking each others dicks, sitting in ur own shit, & never ending coddling. & then, you have the older group of kids, who have played this game before but instead of helping or ignoring the Dumbshit kids, they indulge their own normally-buried-but-unleashed-by-internet-anonymity sadism/human instinct to just be fucking dicks & so now you have this vicious cycle of anger & hatred & fucking melodrama up the urethra. im sorry, i know im comig off as/am being harsh but god fuckin dammit yknow? also, this isnt directed at you, specifically, more of a generalized thing, @ myself included. so uh. i mean, if u still wanna share it with me after reading all this, id be happy to read ur poetry. i used to be over the top nice & then reverted to Major Asshole & am now trying to find that sweet middle spot - honoring & allowing myself to share my pain without putting it on others. which is really hard!! cuz becoming a Dick was difficult in that it forced me to be more honest with my true self & as such, more vulnerable - now in trying to become Kinda Nice again because despite being a pulsating scrotom, ive had the intense desire for friendship & human interaction, while simultaneously doing things that i was consciously aware was pushing others away - but then, if i pretend to be nice, where does that authenticity i worked for & was so scared of go? & i dont mean telling someone their new haircut looks nice even when it doesnt - thats just not being a dick. but i guess, those r the normal trials & tribulations of any relationship & adolescent developing identity. which is weird too - dealing with “normal” issues, i mean. whats the point if your life/limbs/breaking point arent at risk? whats the point when your best friends already dead. im sick of people calling "survivors” (despise that word, so fucking female-originated & overdramatic) “brave” & “strong” - surviving is not brave or strong. its just survival. you wouldnt call an animal brave for running for its life from a predator but you would call a dog courageous for going into a burning building to save its owner. premeditated action on the notion that you are probably going to be hurt is brave. being subjected to pain with no choice is not. theres no “silver lining” or anything “good” to be drawn from it either - sure it may have made x a more compassionate person or made y more introspective & gentle but you know what would have been even fucking better??? if the shit hadnt happened in the first place! let x be an asshole & y be self absorbed - the “benefits”, so to speak, do not outweigh the cost, not by a long fucking shot. its not only patronizing to hear garbage like that, but a slap in the face to know that anyone could possibly see anything good coming from that nightmare & that the characteristics, good or bad, you developed either in response to or as a result of, are worth praise. dont tell me im strong for doing what i had to to escape a torture chamber - tell me im perseverant for studying my ass off & passing that test last week. in the words of one of my dearest & most fucking brilliant friends, “pain doesnt owe me/you purpose - the need to intellectualize & assign meaning to pain & death is not only futile, but harmful.” & honestly, i think that it stems from weakness (in most cases - i realize theres a plethora of other reasons such as those who r just desperate for something to hold on to or r hyperintellectual & analytical or who have been pressured by external “support” systems to find the “good” etc etc) - while the majority of people view the person who “can find the good in everything” (strictly speaking only in relation to trauma/tragedy here & more in denunciation of those that celebrate this trait as opposed to vilifying “survivors” who respond this way, though in my experience, its very very very rarely the “survivor” that perpetrates this ideology ) as strong, i sort of see it as a weakness - their inability to sit with & absorb their own pain or that of others is so strong that not only do they have to frantically pull rainbows out of the teeth of a meat cleaver, they also have to exist within this strange (tho, not malicious - more subconscious) superiority complex. like, nah, dude, some times shit is just awful. you cant tell me anything fucking good came out of a four year old girl being kidnapped, gangraped, & tortured for two years, before being impaled & left to die on a stake. her mom opened a non profit organization? oh well thank fucking god for that!!! those that believe the latter to be more “enlightened” or whatever the fuck r the same people who say shit like “dying is easy - living is harder” & i get that that its supposed to be interpreted metaphorically for the most part - giving up is easy, trying isnt (which also.....isnt true??? admitting defeat & fully accepting the fact that ur fucking helpless is beyond hard lmao???) - but pretend youre somewhere, anywhere outside ur sunny little fucking yoga studio full of white women whos biggest issues r the pta & johnny whos failing math, & lets say your life is in real, imminent danger, a gun is to your head & i want you to not scream or cry or beg for ur life since dying is “easier”. if dying is so easy, why do the majority of ppl cling to it with such desperation - why is suicide illegal? why do some ppl go thru 100s of chemo treatments even tho the doctors say theyre just prolonging the inevitable, ppl who cut off a diseased arm so it wont spread, those who walk dozens of miles every day for food & water, etc? & i know & understand the survival instinct better than anyone, even when i wanted to die more than anything, my natural instincts would kick in with no conscious neural input & id do what i had to do. im not condemning those who cling to life (ok - a little. ur wasting resources out of ur own fear. but i also realize thats just me being a Fucking Asshole As Always cuz technically, im doing the same thing tho its more due to lack of opportunity rather than fear. i just think, societally, death should be more normalized, discussed, & not made out to be so unknown & scary), instead just reprimanding those who say shit like that (inspirational facebook quotes). especially cuz most of the ppl who do spew that shit have never gone thru anything even remotely difficult - their worst nightmare is a Big Scary Black Man grabbing them on the street, mugging them, & touching their tits. & i also know that these stupid ass sayings are to be applied to bullshit like exercise & fitness (“no pain no gain” is another one of my Favorites) & not fucking torture or even just ur run of the mill rape, even that would probably smash the rose tinted banana republic shades off their beverly hills tanned faces. but ive heard the no pain no gain one a handful of times in the last few weeks, specifically from doctors performing procedures in preparation for my bottom surgery. & i know its supposed to be encouraging & they have no way of knowing, but its just like, buddy, u have no idea who youre fucking talking to. & im starting to understand what THEY mean when they say it - pain with a reward is infinitely more tolerable than pain just for the sake of pain; like, a tattoo, it hurts, but u know, when its done, its gonna be sick as fuck. when u r able to fall back on the idea that its for something u rlly want, its A Lot easier to handle as opposed to pain thats Just Pain - theres no reward for it except, i guess, that the more u experience it, the closer u r to the end of it lmao. i mean, i still hate when ppl say it cuz for most of my life, pain was just pain, & the “reward” was the opportunity to go home at the end & so whenever ppl say that, my mind just immediately resorts back to that & im just like haha fuck u. but im trying to remember my experiences r definitely not universal & im starting to sorta understand what they mean i think. but, flipping gears here, & going back to the sentiment of “everything happens for a reason”, the base philosophy of psuedo deep Fuckwads - a girls dad didnt fuck her “for a reason”, everything doesnt happen “for a reason”. like ok, hypothetically, the kid he impregnated her with & that she was forced to have at 12 may surpass all odds & not become a homeless junkie & instead become a world renowned doctor who finds the cure for cancer. but she wasnt raped repeatedly from the age of six for that “reason”, no matter what anyone says & honestly, the liberation of the masses does not justify the suffering of one, especially a child. in my eyes at least. but again, im a bitter asshole. sorry i just Went The Fuck Off here oh my god.....if u read all this, thanks, pal. if not, thats cool too. but yea, send me ur stuff, id totally be down to read it. as for me potentially thinking ur cute, i have to look at my disgusting shitstain of a “face” every goddamn day so everyone else to me is fuckin aphrodite. but im also tryin to not put so much worth into physical appearance- its not something that should be complimented cuz its just smth a person was born with which is the same reason it shouldnt be insulted. this is gonna sound gay & stupid but i personally find that a persons essence & personality really permeates. you can meet someone who, objectively, isnt all that great looking, but once u get to know them, u really see their beauty - how the sun catches in their hair, their dilated pupils looking up at u from under long eyelashes in the dark, the birthmark on their right shoulder that they despise but that is so Them, the gap in their teeth, etc. & idk how to phrase this without it sounding like “well ur ugly but at least ur a good person”, cuz that only reiterates the societally indoctrinated emphasis on appearance & my kneejerk reaction to assure the person in question that thats not what im saying is only another result of that!!! its inescapable!!! but no, really, its not just a matter of “its on the inside that counts” - physically, they change or maybe, actually this is more likely, when i first meet them, my “default” eyes r just looking for features that i know im immediately attracted to (tall, blonde, sickly as in sunken eyes sticklike pale but still looks like she could & will beat the shit out of me) but as i fall in love or get to know them better, my eyes adjust & i notice & adore the beauty that was there all along. so uh. idk if ill think ur “cute”. but probably, yes, ill think ur an angel.

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g-on-ef · 5 years

Note

What about an angst fic where Marco and Ace are stuck in a cave in, Ace is injured but Marco isnt cause of his powers, and as they try to find a way out Ace gets worse and worse and Marco gets more desperate?

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A/N: I Love this idea !!!! Had a lot of fun with writing this ^^

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It was supposed to be a simple recon mission, nothing bigor fancy just the two of them scanning the area for any potential threats andreport back Pops and let him know if the area was safe or not.

What neither of them expect was for an earthquake and trapthem in an underground cave.

Marco and Ace were searching the entire area and weresurprised to see how peaceful the town was, Ace being the paranoid little shitthat he was wanted to make sure there wasn’t any danger anywhere so he decidedto go check the caves, Marco of course agreed, which was surprising to Marcosince Ace was claustrophobic, Ace of course reassured him that as long as therewas light in the gave then he will be okay.

Marco foolishly agreed and followed Ace into the caves,they moved less the three miles before an earthquake Marco rushed to Ace’s aidbut was too late as the rocks fell on top of both of them knocking the down tothe ground.

After a few short moments Marco was able to stand on hisfeet, shaking off the dizzy feeling that was currently leaving his body, helooked around the dark room, lighting his arm he searched for Ace, a part ofhis mind was panicking, praying to anyone who would listen that his lover wasokay.

Another part of him tried to remain calm, panicking rightnow would be the worse mistake he could make, Ace was probably injured andscared outta of his mind and he needed Marco to be cool and collected, if he senseMarco freaking out for even a moment it would sent Ace to have a panic attackand Marco did not need to see his lover in such a worry state.

Looking around he spotted Ace lying face first on theground.

“Ace!” the blond rushed over to his lover, kneeling downhe checked to see if there were any fatal wounds on Ace.

He saw Ace’s shoulder was dislocated while both his legsappeared fine until Marco reached his ankles and saw one was sprain and theother was broken, Marco removed his shirt and began to rip it into pieces, hequickly tied each piece on Ace’s broken body.

Carefully turning him on his back Marco checked to makesure that the rest of Ace’s body was okay, aside from a few scrapes on hischeek and a nasty wound on his head, no doubt that his lover was going to havea concussion.

Taking a deep breath Marco gently wiped away the bloodand clean his wounds as best as he could. He thanked his lucky stars that his devilfruit could heal his wounds but he damn everything for not being able to do thesame to those he loved and cared for.

He watched as Ace’s face scrunched up in pain before heopened his eyes, Marco sigh a breath of relief, midnight orbs stared at hisface and for a split second Marco felt like he was getting lost in those bottomlesspits of darkness.

Most people fear the darkness but for Marco, whenever hestared into Ace’s midnight orbs he always felt like he wouldn’t mind gettinglost in them, exploring every secret; finding precious memories that he helddear to his heart, learning everything and anything about this fallen angel whodecided to grace Marco with his presence.

A small cough interrupted Marco of his muses and heremembered where they were. Remembering Ace’s claustrophobia, he quickly lithis arm on fire to allow some form of light to form the room.

“Ma-Marco?”

“Hey pretty boy,”

“Wha-what happened?” Ace tried to ignored the pain in hisbody, the last thing he wanted was for Marco to worry about him, sure he hadsome minor injuries at least in his opinion they were minor, that were noticeablebut there was some internal damage that couldn’t be seen and Ace did not wantMarco to start panicking about the pain that was going on inside his body.

Not to mention that they were stuck in a cave, he wasgrateful for Marco’s flames lighting the room, if it weren’t for that fact Acewas sure he would start freaking out and with his injuries he was certain thathaving a panic attack would not be the best thing to do.

“There was an earthquake and sadly, we got trappedinside,”

“Oh,” Ace began to cough a little, trying to mask thepain that he was feeling. Why did it hurt to breath? And why did he feel thisweird feeling on his chest?

The funny thing about Ace, he always thought that he wasable to hide things from Marco.

Sadly, Marco was able to read him like an open book, heknew when his lover was hurt, when he was trying to hide things. Right now, heknew his Handsome boy was in pain, knew that he was trying to be strong for Marcoso that he would not worry about him.

Marco gently lifted Ace so that he was sitting up, Acebit his tongue so that his cries of pain would stay silent.

“Are you alright Handsome?”

“Yeah, just need a moment to catch my breath,”

Marco nodded his head, letting his lover rest on hischest while Ace snuggled a little closer to him.

“I always feel so safe in your arms, you know that?”

Marco smiled at that before he leaned down and kissed Ace’sforehead.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what love?”

“Kiss my forehead?”

Marco laughed a little before he leaned down and kissedhis cheeks.

“Because I fell in with your mind before I fell in lovewith the rest of you, your beautiful mind had caught my attention but your gorgeousheart stole mine,”

Ace couldn’t help but blush at Marco’s words.

“You always have such a way with words, you know that?”

“Only with you Handsome,”

The two laughed, unfortunately it was cut short from Ace’scough.

“Ace?”

“I’m fine,”

“No your not, listen I’m gonna leave you for a second,”he could see the panic in his before he tighten his hold on him.

“It’ll only be for one-minute okay? I am going to try andsee if I could find a way out okay?”

“O-okay, umm… can you make sure that your entire body isburning so I can see some light?”

“Of course,” he kissed his forehead before he gently liedhim down, he then lit his entire body on fire before he rushed to see if hecould find an exist.

Ace watched as Marco left, what neither one realized washow deep in the cave they were, seeing him going farther and farther away wasbeginning to freak Ace out a little, he slowly lift his arm and tried to createsome fire, sadly with his arms in bad shape and his body screaming in agony hewas unable to create even in a tiny flame.

Ace tried to control his breathing tried to relax his mind,but he couldn’t, he felt like a cage animal, trapped inside a cage with noescape. He could feel a lump forming on his throat, palms becoming sweaty, theneed to crack his knuckles-a habit hedeveloped as a child whenever he was scared-was becoming greater with eachpassing second.

He could feel his heartbeat accelerating, trying tocontrol his breathing he took a deep breath and slowly released it, it hurt hischest but if it help calm his racing heart he would gladly welcome any pain.

“Marco will be back, he is only gone for a moment and hewill be back,”

“Or maybe he forgot about me and left me here fordead,”

“No, he wouldn’t do that, he would never do somethinglike that,”

“But he’s been gone longer than a minute,”

“No, he hasn’t it’s only been thirty seconds,”

“Tick, tock,tick, tock,”

Ace tried to control his mind and not let any of histhoughts control his mind.

Closed his eyes and tried to think of happy thoughtswhich was of his two brothers Luffy and Sabo. He reminces on times when theywere kids, when they found out Sabo was alive and survived the explosion.

How happy the three were to be reunited, Luffy and Law’swedding…yes the captain of the Heart Pirates and the captain of the Straw Hatswere getting married soon…Sabo and Khola’s child…the walls falling down on himtrapping him in a never ending darkness that he will never escape.

Ace’s eyes shot open, and it was dark…was it possible fora room to be this dark? Was it just his imagination that the cave was getting darkerand darker with each passing second? He could have sworn he felt something crawlinghis arm.

“Calm down Ace, it’s just your imagination there isnothing on your arm…”

A weird shriek was heard from the distance…

“Just your imagination,” Ace told himself before takingcalming breaths something Dadan told him to do if he ever felt scared.

He could have sworn he heard a noise, the same noise heheard a moment ago were getting closer to him, was that Marco? No, it wasn’t,if it was, he would have seen some type of light coming his way…was it someanimal that was coming to eat his body? No, no animal that lives in a cavewould want to eat a human right? Right?

The walls felt like they closing in on him…he felt theneed to breath was getting harder and harder to do, he felt some strangepressure on his chest and he needed to set it free in some way…he heard somenoise…getting closer and closer…where was Marco? It’s been a minute, right? Whywasn’t he here? Was the noise getting louder? Closer? What was making thatawful noise? And was it going to hurt him?

Marco where are you…

“ACE!”

Ace looked at Marco who looked scared and worried.

“Ma…Marco…”

“Ace…”

Before he could ask anything, he felt Ace going limp inhis arms.

Marco wanted to set himself on fire, punch himself,something to cause himself half the pain that Ace was in.

He was only gone for literally thirty seconds before heheard Ace screaming his head off, he ran towards him and saw in fear as Ace wasclawing at his arms drawing blood from them and crying out for help.

Marco was calling himself every horrible name he couldthink of; how could he think Ace would be fine? He was hurt, scared, and Marcofoolishly left him in the dark by himself.

“Why did I leave you alone?” he whispered to himself as he stroke Ace’s head.

They needed to get out ofhere, if Ace were to wake up again in this dark area he would have anotherpanic attack and this time Marco was certain that this one would be worse thanthe last…he needed to find a way out…needed to get them out as soon as possible…carryingAce on his back Marco lit his body on fire and ran towards the entrance of thecave…he sent a silent prayer that Pops and the rest of the crew could find themand prayed that he could get both him and Ace out of the cave before Ace wokeup…

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HELP !!! So I really really really really wanna write some Lawlu and AceMarco fics/prompts problem is I have no idea what to write !!! If anyone has any ideas they wanna share send them to my inbox I would appreciate it thank you ^^

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#answers asked #rayanyamor #writing prompt #prompts filled #marcoace #marace #marco the phoenix #portgas d. ace #one piece #angst #my writing #whitebeard pirates #whitebeardpirates

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mumuho · 6 years

Text

I need you to kiss me - Kai (pt. 3)

Supernatural AU! In which you accidentally establish a link between you and Kai, causing him to become dependent on your kisses for survival.

Fluuuuuuuff

Parts:

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

During the weekends you only meet up once. Kai usually stops by on Saturday on Sunday, depending on your schedule. It’s a bit of a hassle having to get ready and dressed on days when you really don’t want to go out but have to just to help him out. To make things less burdensome for you Kai offers to meet up at your place.

The arrangement between the two of you work out perfectly. Although the other tenants in your apartment complex have begun to notice the frequent appearance of the handsome young man. It seems as if he never stays more than a few minutes and they speculate about the nature of your relationship.

After three weeks of seeing Kai walking in and out of the building, most often wearing sunglasses, rumor begins to circulate.

He might be gang member!

Drug dealer!

What if he’s extorting the student?

He’s wearing sunglasses to hide his identity!

On one Saturday afternoon as Kai once again steps inside the building he’s approached by the security guard. The guard interrogates him and only becomes more suspicious when Kai refuses to remove his sunglasses. Kai tries to convince the security guard that he isn’t participating in criminal activities and that he actually knows you.

After receiving the call from the reception you come down to the security guard’s office. Inwardly you’re panicking but outwardly you’re wearing a cross expression.

Kai doesn’t really understand why.

---

“Miss, the reason I called you down here is that there have been rumors about the relationship between the two of you. Normally it’s none of our business but there are rumors going around of criminal activities and I called you to hear if you could explain this.”

“I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience we’ve caused. First of all, he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s a good thing Kai’s wearing sunglasses, because it masks his surprised expression.

“We had a big fight a few weeks ago and ever since he’s been coming over here to apologize.”

Oh, so that’s why she was looking so mad.

“There’s really nothing shady going on, I’ve just not been very keen on speaking to him.”

---

Once back at your apartment the two of you let out a sigh of relief.

“I guess, you better stay here for a while so they don’t get suspicious.”

And so, that is how Kai begins to spend more time at your place.

---

One weekend in early December you go out of town and decide to meet up with Kai on Sunday afternoon. Usually when you meet up on Sundays, it’s normally before noon as Kai begins to feel a slight soreness and ache in his body if he goes longer without contact with you. It’s bearable, but rather inconvenient.

By Sunday afternoon he steps into the building with his sunglasses on. His eyes now occupied by a blackness that covers half his eye. Outside there’s heavy snowfall and Kai leaves a trail of melted snow behind him as he walks up to your apartment.

There’s no answer when he rings the door bell. He presses the bell two more times before finally calling your cell.

“--ah, I’m outside your place, could you open?”

“Kai? You didn’t receive my text message?”

“What message?” He hears your curse on the other side of the phone.

“I don’t know what the weather’s like back home but the snow’s falling like crazy. We had to stop because I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me. We’ll be back on the road as soon as the snowfall clears up a bit. Will you be fine?”

Kai nervously rubs his neck. Should he tell you about the other side effects of going no contact with you for too long? For fear of putting additional stress on you, on top of having to drive in such a conditions, Kai stays quiet.

“I know it’s inconvenient to have your eyes become black but please hold out for a while, okay?”

“When do you think you’ll be home?”

“We’re still a 2-hour drive away, I’ll text you once we’re back on the road.”

---

“Kai!” You exclaim as you come out the elevator and spot him. Even from a distance it’s apparent he’s feeling unwell. He’s standing slightly hunched and when you come close you notice the perspiration. “Are you okay?” you ask, with worry in your voice “Did you come here despite feeling ill? You could’ve told me to come by your place instead!”

You unlock the door with lightening speed and usher him down onto the cushioned stool in your hallway.

Without another word exchanged you grab his face and firmly plant your lips onto his. Kai’s hands find their way onto you, one tangled in your hair and the other gently placed against your cheek.

For a long time you remain in that position, with your lips locked and the front door wide open for the world to see. You stay like that until Kai finally lets go of you. And it’s not because he’s feeling better but because he realizes he’s not.

You remove his sunglasses and only now see that his eyes look even worse than the first time you saw them like this. “Kai, your eyes, they’re not changing back.” It’s beginning to dawn on you that maybe there’s a connection between Kai’s physical state and his eyes.

“I figured.” His reply comes out as a weak whisper. Although he’s not perspiring as much it’s obvious Kai’s is still in pain. He leans back against the wall with his eyes closed. “Please call Sehun and tell him to come here immediately.”

“W-what, why?”

Calmly and quietly he says, “I’m not getting better and I need his help.” He doesn’t have the energy to elaborate any further and you don’t pester him either.

----

Sehun’s quick to respond and while you wait for his arrival Kai only seems to get progressively worse. He lies on your bed, hair damp with sweat. You don’t know what to do other than put your lips to his because it seems to ease his pain at least.

The doorbell finally rings and Sehun comes barging in, throwing his shoes in the air as he does.

He points at you and tells you to listen and do as he says as quickly as possible. “You need to digest half of this.” He holds up a bouquet of green herbs. “We need to cut it up and mix it with water. Follow me.”

He enters the kitchen with you in tow. “Cut this up and mix it with water, we’re going to make it into a paste.”

You do as you’re told but Sehun doesn’t even bother grabbing a knife or a pair of scissors, he just starts tearing the herb with his bare hands. The two of you are back by Kai’s side in no time and you throw half the paste down and swallow it with one gulp before you’re even able to register the bitter taste.

“Where’s his mark?” Sehun asks.

“Mark? What mark?”

“Kai, where’s the mark?” Sehun shakes his friend’s shoulders but doesn’t get anything other than unintelligible mumbling.

“There should be a physical mark on his body somewhere. We need to know exactly where the mark is in order to direct the energy.” He begins rolling up Kai’s sleeves and you do the same.

“What does the mark look like?”

“It’s just a circle. You’ll know it when you see it.”

The two of you scan Kai’s arms, his feet, neck and all the other easily accessible places. You’re only halfway through when you realize Sehun has been continuously asking you to check his side as well for the mark.

“Sehun, you can’t see the mark?”

“No. The mark is sacred. It’s not something an outsider is able to see.”

Kai suddenly speaks up, startling the two of you. He places his hand on his left chest. “It’s here.”

Both you and Sehun immediately hover over him. “On your chest?” Sehun spares no time in waiting for Kai’s confirmation and cuts open his sweater in an instant.

And there on Kai’s left chest you see it. Two circles, one contained within the other. “Is it supposed to look like scar tissue?” you ask. When Sehun had said “mark” you had imagined it to be more like a tattoo.

Sehun gives you an affirmative answer and is quick to use what’s left of the paste to draw lines and shapes onto Kai’s upper body.

“I’m done. Now, --ah, kiss the mark.”

Parts:

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

#kai #kai scenarios #kai fanfic #jongin scenarios #jongin fanfic #exo scenarios #exo fanfic #multi #fluff #exo #au:fantasy

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asknightqueendany · 6 years

Note

The Big Five (Bran, Arya, Jon, Dany, Tyrion) who will survive is only something that George R. R. Martin wrote in a letter about the upcoming series in 199-fucking-3. It was supposed to be a trilogy. There was supposed to be a love triangle between Tyrion, Arya and Jon. Also dany wasn’t supposed to have dragons in that outline so STOP using the big 5 to justify that Sansa isn’t an important character! It’s getting old and transparent.

I’m cracking up. Have you people even READ the original outline? No? I highly suggest you check it out before sending me asks on it again. You can see the original photos and transcribed texts HERE.

But let’s go through it because it’s a glorious Friday afternoon and I feel like taking some people down a notch.

The things I seem most about GRRM’s original outline as reasons why it shouldn’t be taken seriously are: 1) it was supposed to be a trilogy and 2) there was supposed to be a love triangle between Jon, Arya, and Tyrion. I don’t know where you got the whole, “Dany wasn’t supposed to have dragons” thing anon because according to the outline, there be dragons:

But let’s take a look at the letter. George states, “There are three major conflicts set in motion in the chapters enclosed. These will form the major plot threads of the trilogy, intertwining each other in what should be a complex but exciting (I hope) narrative tapestry. Each of the conflicts presents a major threat to the peace of my imaginary realm, the Seven Kingdoms, and to the lives of my principal characters.”

The first threat, George says, is the Lannister/Stark conflict.

The second threat is the Dothraki invasion, led by Daenerys in what George thought would be his second novel - A Dance With Dragons.

And the Third and final threat to Westeros would be the Others in his presumed last novel - The Winds of Winter.

Now, right off the bat, George has already used all the book titles, with TWOW in progress. On the show, we’ve already seen the play out and conclusion of the Lannister/Stark war. Daenerys/Dothraki invasion of Westeros has happened in the show. And the Others had begun invading the Seven Kingdoms at the end of Season 7.

So all of what George first said has come to pass, just eight seasons and seven books, not a trilogy.

In AGOT, things George said would happen was that Ned and Cat were doomed (✓), things for the Starks would get worse before they got better (✓), Ned would find out what happened to Jon Arryn (✓), Robert would have an accident and the throne would pass to Joffrey (✓), Ned would be accused of treason (✓), and Ned would help Arya and Catelyn escape to Winterfell (did not happen). HOWEVER - Cat never needed escaping from King’s Landing AND Arya did escape King’s Landing after Ned’s beheading - she just didn’t receive help from him.

George says of Sansa: she will wed Joffrey (no) and bear him a son (no), “and when the crunch comes she will choose her husband and child over her parents and siblings, a choice she will later bitterly rue” (✓ - Sansa DOES choose Joffrey over her family in the Riverlands and then again in King’s Landing by going behind Ned’s back to tell Cersei of his plan to send them back to Winterfell and willingly volunteers to write the letter to Robb so that she can still marry Joffrey (not because Cersei made her write it, she did it for Joffrey). Tyrion befriends Sansa (✓) and Arya (no) and becomes disillusioned with his own family (✓).

I’m just going to quote the whole letter from now on because I’m too lazy to type…

“Young Bran will come out of his coma (✓), after a strange prophetic dream (✓), only to discover that he will never walk again (✓). He will turn to magic, at first in the hope of restoring his legs, but later for its own sake (✓). When his father Eddard Stark is executed, Bran will see the shape of doom descending on all of them, but nothing he can say will stop his brother Robb from calling the banners in rebellion (✓) . All the north will be inflamed by war (✓). Robb will win several splendid victories (✓), and maim Joffrey Baratheon on the battlefield (no), but in the end he will not be able to stand against Jaime and Tyrion Lannister and their allies. Robb Stark will die in battle (no), and Tyrion Lannister will besiege and burn Winterfell (no - kinda).” - Winterfell does get besieged and burned, only not by Tyrion, by Theon and Ramsay. And of course, Robb will die during his war against the Lannisters, just not in battle.

“Jon Snow, the bastard, will remain in the far north (✓). He will mature into a ranger of great daring (✓ - kinda), and ultimately will succeed his uncle as the commander of the Night’s Watch(✓ - kinda). When Winterfell burns, Catelyn Stark will be forced to flee north with her son Bran and her daughter Arya (no - kinda). Wounded by Lannister riders, they will seek refuge at the Wall, but the men of the Night’s Watch give up their families when they take the black, and Jon and Benjen will not be able to help, to Jon’s anguish (no). It will lead to a bitter estrangement between Jon and Bran (no). Arya will be more forgiving … until she realizes, with terror, that she has fallen in love with Jon, who is not only her half-brother but a man of the Night’s Watch, sworn to celibacy (no - kinda). Their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until the secret of Jon’s true parentage is finally revealed in the last book (no - kinda).” - though Jon isn’t a ranger, he goes on a ranging and is pretty daring. He does become LC but not succeeding Benjen, succeeding Mormont. Bran does flee to the Wall, but to go beyond it. Arya tries to flee North/to the Wall but doesn’t make it. Jon is tormented by a love because of his NW vows of celibacy - Ygritte - and does develop feelings for his kin - Daenerys.

“Abandoned by the Night’s Watch, Catelyn and her children will find their only hope of safety lies even further north, beyond the Wall (no - kinda), where they fall into the hands of Mance Rayder, the King-beyond-the-Wall, and get a dreadful glimpse of the inhuman others as they attack the wildling encampment (no - kinda). Bran’s magic, Arya’s sword Needle, and the savagery of their direwolves will help them survive, but their mother Catelyn will die at the hands of the others (no - kinda).” - as stated, Bran does go beyond the Wall, Jon is the one who falls into the hands of Mance Rayder, Jon does get a glimpse of an Other attack on a wildling encampment (Hardhome), and Bran’s magic and direwolf do save him from the Others (The Door - Hodor).

“Over across the narrow sea, Daenerys Targaryen will discover that her new husband, the Dothraki Khal Drogo, has little interest in invading the Seven Kingdoms, much to her brother’s frustration(✓). When Viserys presses his claims past the point of tact or wisdom, Khal Drogo will finally grow annoyed and kill him out of hand, eliminating the Targaryen pretender and leaving Daenerys as the last of her line (✓). Danerys [sic] will bide her time, but she will not forget (✓). When the moment is right, she will kill her husband (✓) to avenge her brother (no), and then flee with a trusted friend into the wilderness beyond Vaes Dothrak (✓ - kinda). There, hunted by Dothraki bloodriders (✓) [unclear] of her life, she stumbles on a cach***e of dragon’***s eggs (✓ - kinda) [unclear] of a young dragon will give Daenerys the power to bend the Dothraki to her will (✓). Then she begins to plan for her invasion of the Seven Kingdoms (✓). - Daenerys does wander the wilderness beyond Vaes Dothrak (after she hatches her dragons) with her Khalasar in the Red Waste. She does get dragons eggs, just given to her at her wedding instead of stumbling upon them (really, that’s just better storytelling on George’s part. If she had just randomly found them, it would feel too coincidental). Dany did kill Drogo but not to avenge Viserys; it was to put him out of his misery. Dany does use her powers to bend the Dothraki to her will (burning the Khals to become TSWMTW).

“Tyrion Lannister will continue to travel, to plot, and to play the game of thrones (✓), finally removing his nephew Joffrey in disgust at the boy king’s brutality (no - kinda). Jaime Lannister will follow Joffrey on the throne of the Seven Kingdoms (no - kinda), by the simple expedient of killing everyone ahead of him in the line of succession and blaming his brother Tyrion for the murders (no - kinda). Exiled (✓), Tyrion will change sides (✓), making common cause with the surviving Starks to bring his brother down (✓ - kinda), and falling helplessly in love with Arya Stark (✓ - kinda) while he’s at it. His passion is, alas, unreciprocated (✓ - kinda), but no less intense for that, and it will lead to a deadly rivalry between Tyrion and Jon Snow (yet to be seen).” - Joffrey is killed and Tyrion is accused though he wasn’t guilty. Cersei follows her son to the throne after Tommen’s death (which was her fault so she essentially killed him), Tyrion joins Daenerys to bring down Cersei, he falls in love with Dany (according to all of Peter’s interviews about his feelings for Daenerys), as Dany is in love with Jon, it seems Tyrion’s affections are reciprocated, and we don’t yet know if Tyrion and Jon will fight to the death. It’s possible.

So anon, I’d say so far as George’s predictions go for the entire series, he’s gotten it closer to his original outline than not. So please, for the last goddamn time, leave me alone with this bullshit that the Original outline doesn’t mean anything so far as Sansa’s character and I should stop referring to it. Almost everything George predicted he’d write, has come to pass. Perhaps not how he originally thought…but largely, it’s all happened.

Wanna know why Sansa’s a “major character” in the show? Look:

And it’s because of Turner’s strength, Benioff continued, that it made sense to give Sansa a dramatic storyline this season and to use Ramsay’s engagement for that very purpose. In fact, the showrunners first thought about putting Sansa and Ramsay together back when they were writing season 2. “We really wanted Sansa to play a major part this season,” Benioff said. “If we were going to stay absolutely faithful to the book, it was going to be very hard to do that.

D&D wanted it. It’s not George’s story or George’s plan. Dan and Dave like Sophie’s acting and wanted her to play a more major role. So they gave her that. It has absolutely nothing to do with the series as a whole or the endgame. Sansa is not a main character and she will matter very little to the endgame.

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ohdeerlings · 6 years

Text

mushi hime rant hahahhaahfdsjh

just posting my long-winded summary i typed immediately after finished reading to talk about how bad it was; it ended up a lot longer than i intended and now i feel like i should at least keep what i put effort into typing =___=

so it starts with this guy who's been getting recurring nightmares of a girl who shapeshifts into a monster with a huge mouth and teeth eating him

one day a transfer student comes in and looks exactly like her(already outplayed trope of having dreams for no reason of reality that doesnt ever get explained, and it happens lots of times throughout

)around the same time strange events start happening around town: ex, truck driver found by police with markings of a mass insect attack, dogs and pets all getting attacked by swarms of ants and filling up the vet hospitals

the narrative goes back and forth btwn:

- the guy's (Ryoichi's) POV in class where he's just not approaching her and wary of her bc of his dream; he's Not Like Other Boys who get all horny over her bc she's perfect (beautiful, smart, mysteriously quiet, physically adept)

- and btwn this stereotypically wacky/eccentric scientist who was consulted by the police with the first caseturns out the scientist has been tracking down a series of seemingly unrelated murders that follow a clear path ending at Ryoichi's town

throughout the story there's some not so subtle dialogues about the earth going through global warming and species dying

the scientist spiels to some insignificant characters about how humans arent long for this earth, etc etc and how insects are amazing because of their adaptational abilities

he seems to know the transfer student girl, Kikuchi and is trying to track her down

meanwhile kikuchi is character-developed as some clearly dangerous but morally compromised monster-human hybrid who Only Preys on Bad Guys or people around at the wrong time

she gets hit on by some lecherous perv who asks her to karaoke and she actually agrees

there she straddles him and starts kissing him and then these tentacle things come ouit of her throat and go into his mouth

he slumps over and she leaves

the scientist-investigator duo are closing in on her and find the security camera tapes, from that they get a picture and show it around town to try to locate her

meanwhile Ryoichi is still like wow she's Scary and I'm Not Like Other Boys

then he happens to see her just as the old man from the karaoke bar (who seems to have not been killed and is just stumbling around acting drugged) finds her and attacks her

a fucking needle spike comes out of her arm and she defends herself by stabbing him and puncturing his skull and killing him

he sees all that and shes like well guess you're my hostage now and takes him to his house

she's also attracted to him inexplicably, partially because He's Not Like Other Boys and shes like WHY ISNT HE SECRETING PHEROMONES FOR ME(she can smell that

)then there's a weird "erotic" scene where she forces him onto the bed and deep throats him with her mouth tentacles

then there's just a LOT of dialogue thrown at us at once with the scientist just explaining a shit ton to his investigation partner whose character clearly only exists for hte sake of exposition

turns out he had a colleague when he worked on a super secret gov funded experiment called biosphere 2 where they sealed off a forest and bombed it with radiation and pollution n shit

they found that it endured a lot at first and it was because of the bugs (?) that it did until the bugs disappeared and were nowhere to be found, then the forest just died

they looked around and found mutated bugs sleeping inside the earth

his colleague had a daughter back then with a terminal illness so out of desperation he injected the dna of the mutated insects into her, hoping their resilience would change her body to survive the illness

so she lived but she was clearly not human, farming off of her dad - she wasnt able to produce endorphins anymore so her tentacle things would secrete an enzyme to get hte host to produce lots of endorphins and she would take it, creating a dependency

bc she was the only of her species to exist she felt a need to procreate so she also kept trying to mate with her dad

then we find out that her dad had an identical twin who was raised by foster parents - and thats Ryoichi's dad, making Ryoichi and Kikuchi technically cousins, and genetically half-siblings

so thats why she was Inexplicably drawn to that town, and to him

she was wandering through japan because at some point her dad tried to kill her for humanity's sake, but bc of a random flood their town was wiped out and he wasnt able to kill her and she disappeared/survived the flood thanks to her ability to mutate in environmental changes

meanwhile she's been keeping him hostage to feed off of his endorphins and creating a dependency in him for the enzymes she would give him

until his mom accidentally comes into his room and sees, then she runs away and dies falling down the stairs lol

then he's all like ytou're a monster!!!!! and she threatens to kill the girl-next-door character in his friend group who seemed to have a thing for him/vice versa

so he's like: ill do anything just spare her!!!!

so she forces him to answer the door when his friends are like why havent u been going to class and tell them to fuck off/be a dick to them

while theyre walking outside after to go somewhere else the scientist sees the girl (Chiken) and is like hEY you look sad and depressed there's nothing possibly else that could make u feel like that except having your childhood crush abducted by a halfhuman-half locust succubus

he shows her the picture and she recognizes her and leads him back to the house

then he gets a rifle to try to shoot her and theres a whole fight scene where she uses her pheromones to call upon the insects to swarm

ryoichi is useless because he found his moms corpse lying in the bathtub getting consumed by maggots she asked to fully decompose the body

then the scientist gets a couple shots in and fends her off, meanwhile random police get in the way to stop what looks just like a home invasion and she disappears

they take ryoichi into the hospital bc all the endorphin harvesting and brain fuckery has him weak

then ryoichi's dad comes in and is like how do you recognize who i am!! to the scientist who explains

oh yeah that's the point at which we find out ryoichi and kikuchi are related

and then he's still having dreams where she vores him and he's both horrified and wants it

meanwhile entire city is getting swarmed by insects in a disaster scene with society breaking down etc etc

kikuchi tracks them down by following ryoichi's scent (?)

then they have one last battle where they try to use the dad as a distraction bc he looks identical to her dead father

and somehow the scientist just FINDS specific chemicals/enzymes to throw on her and weaken the part of her thats an insect

also earlier before she got there he whips out the mutant insect dna out of nowhere? like the extremely valuable dna that he should have no business just finding/still carrying around

and is like

hey lets inject ourselves with this because humanity is getting wiped out and attacked by insects rn anyway, the only way to live i sto adapt

but no one does it (lmao pointless inclusion)

then they defeat her in a big struggle with ryoichi getting farmed on by her again and instead of just taking it has a Miraculous realization past the drugs that oh no this person is killing everyone i love

and CHOMPS on her tentacle thigns while their mouths are connected

scientist injuects her with more random dna he has to compromise her mutant dna and the insect swarming stops bc of the internal biological shit happening and she's writhing oon the ground

then looks like she dies

they try to escape the basement theyve been in because its suddenly flooding (no reason lmfao)

on the way out they get stopped by a teacher that she pricked with her spike earlier on who's been missing from school and his "insect bite" changed his behavior/ultimately made him into a different part human part bug who tries to kill them

then kikuchi who -surprise- hadnt died!@!! shows up again but now she's blond and looks almost exactly like Ryoichi (who is blond) because the thing the scientist injected in her enabled her to adapt to the water and she's still a mutatn but Less Evil Somehow and he's like i thOUGHT U DIED.... I ACTUALLY LOVE YOU..

then epilogue is the scientist goign through his life normally and the city is recovered from the insect swarm and he sees another random global warming thing in the news and is like

“its only a matter of time before humanity perishes, but now is not that time....we're good.............,,,,,,,for now...and i know somewhere underwater something of humanity's legacy will live on”

and it cuts to ryoichi and kikuchi hugging in a very Shape of Water way underwater with tentacle thigns cause they went to live in the ocean

then there s a bad window for a sequel showing the teacher guy - SURPRISE - not actuially dead and crunching on humans in a sewer somewhere

STILL A FUN READ

#summary #review #manga #insect princess #mushihime #mushi hime #trashpost

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sanders-specs · 7 years

Text

Camp Swan Chapter 3

A/N: Yay we’ve survived another week! Hope everything is going okay for ya. If not then I’m confident it will! Stay strong :) For now let’s delve back into our summer camp adventures.

Warnings: Swearing, homophobic slurs, bullying, intentionally not eating, social anxiety (at least how I understand it. Again, if I get anything wrong feel free to let me know)

Parings: None. Just a flirty Roman

part 1| Previous

tag list: @princeyssash

“Well,” Roman says as the new kid blocked them all out, “he’s going to be a joy to room with, isn’t he?”

Logan sighs. “It seems that we have a troublemaker as a roommate, yes.”

“Now, now, I think he just doesn’t understand how great camp is just yet,” Patton says, speaking for the first time since Virgil ridiculed his favorite place on earth. “Give him some time and he’ll come around.”

“I don’t know,” Roman says doubtfully. “People like him never seem like the type to just ‘come around.’”

“Nevertheless,” Logan says, turning back to his thing to continue unpacking. “We shan’t let Virgil’s negative attitude damper our camp experience. Roman, I understand that this is your third year here, yes?”

“Yep!” Roman says proudly. “Though this is my first time meeting you.”

“Oh you’ll love Lo!” Patton exclaims. “He’s so smart, he knows just about everything.”

“If I knew everything then I would have at least a dozen Nobel Peace Prizes at this point in my life,” Logan says, “as well as a cure for all illnesses. As great as that would be, it is, in fact, false.”

“But you are smart,” Patton says.

“Yes, that is a correct statement.” Logan puts the last of his clothes into his closet and turns to Roman. “I suppose we should get the annoying, frivolous questions out of the way. Why do you enjoy coming to Camp Swan?”

Roman blinked at him, glancing at Patton for help but Patton was just sitting and staring at Roman curiously, like he was wondering the same thing. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Well for instance,” Logan says, “I come because the particular forest that the camp is located is home to many species of plants that I would not have a chance to study through the rest of the year. I’ve been studying them every year since my first year and have been documenting their changes as our planet’s climate has changed. The camp provides the necessary resources for studying them as well, which is handy.”

“And I’m here because I love it!” Patton exclaims.

“Yes it seems that Patton enjoys the togetherness that Camp Swan brings,” Logan says with a slightly exasperated sigh. “I can’t say I understand, however I don’t judge him for it.”

“So what about you Roman? What does Camp Swan mean to you?” Patton asks.

“Ah,” Roman says, looking as if he understood better. “I come because it gives me a chance to work on all of my talents. Singing, acting, dancing…well okay I’m still working on the dancing part. Plus their equestrian training is fantastic!”

Logan had to admit that he was slightly impressed that Roman knew the word equestrian, though if anyone would be apt at horseback riding, it looked to be Roman. The other boy looked to be in fair shape, with big biceps that strained against his shirt showing that he worked out. Logan could also see through the tight t-shirt that Roman probably had what was known as a toned stomach as well. It distantly occurred to him to wonder just why Roman insisted on wearing clothing that was just a bit too tight. It did not seem comfortable.

“Look I know I’m handsome but you don’t have to stare,” Roman says.

Logan blinks. Had he been staring? He supposed that he must have, if Roman seemed to have thought so. “My apologies,” Logan says. “I was simply wondering why you would not wear better fitting clothes. We are at a camp after all, wouldn’t you want to be as comfortable as possible?”

Roman stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Frowning, Logan looks at Patton who seemed to be trying to hide a smile. “What? What did I say?”

Roman just kept laughing. He clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Man, Patton said you were smart, he didn’t tell me you were funny too.”

“I was not trying to be,” Logan says, shrugging off Roman’s hand. The other boy didn’t look offended, he just grinned at Logan.

“To me, this is comfortable,” Roman says, showing off his muscles that strained against his clothing. “It’s snug but not too snug, you know?”

Logan sighs and shakes his head. “I do not, but I suppose I will have to take your word for it.”

“Logan likes his facts,” Patton informs Roman. “He likes things to be straightforward.”

“Then I will respect that!” Roman declares, sounding for all the world like a royal. “or try to,” he adds in a calmer voice.

Patton sat on the floor, grabbing one of his nearby plushies and hugging it to his chest. He looks at Virgil, who still had his back to the rest of them, seeming to either not care about the conversation or not hearing it. “Do you think he meant what he said?” Patton wonders aloud. “That his parents hate him?”

“Oh please,” Roman says with a laugh. “Teenagers like him think that world is against them. honestly they’re a pain to deal with.”

Patton frowns. “Well something must make them feel that way.”

“Perhaps,” Logan says, knowing that it was futile to convince Patton of anything less. “However, we cannot force him to tell us anything he does not want to. Nor can we force him to enjoy camp. It will have to be up to him.”

Patton sighs a defeated sigh, but he nods. “You’re right as always Lo.” Patton turns his attention back to the ceiling. “Hey Roman, we haven’t finished the stars!”

“Right,” Roman jumps to his feet, gathering the stars they still had left to stick to the ceiling and walls.

Sighing, Logan turns towards the door. “I’ll get a chair.”

After a few hours, Thomas came back by the room to find Patton, Logan, and Roman all sitting on the ground in the middle of a game of Uno and Virgil lying on his bed, eyes closed and headphones on.

“Hey guys,” Thomas says. He points to Virgil, eyebrows creased. “Why didn’t you invite Virgil to play with you?”

“We did but Dr. Gloom and Doom seems to be too good for us,” Roman says, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Not really knowing what to say to that, Thomas just changes the subject. “O-Okay then. Anyway, the assembly is starting soon so we should all head over.”

The boys all nodded and stopped the game, even though Roman was complaining that he was just about to win (Thomas had seen that he had the most cards out of everyone, but even Roman’s roommates didn’t seem to want to correct him) and the three of them walked past Thomas and into the lounge. Thomas frowns, looking into the room where Virgil was still lying. It didn’t even look like he’d unpacked.

“Aren’t you guys going to get Virgil?” Thomas asks.

“He made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with us and to leave him alone,” Logan says matter-of-factly. “We are simply answering his request.”

Thomas frowns disapprovingly at them and looks at Patton. The more kind-hearted boy shifted uncomfortably on his feet, avoiding Thomas’s gaze. It was clear that he felt guilty, but the fact that he wasn’t countering Logan’s statement meant that he agreed.

Thomas sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “Look guys, we’re not going to get anywhere this summer if you exclude your roommate. It’s just going to make things miserable for everyone.”

The boys all slump, but Patton sighs and walks back into the room to retrieve Virgil.

Virgil stood in the back of the crowd, playing with his fidget cube as he watched the head of the camp, Joan they told the campers to call them, talking about all the different activities at the camp and how they would all rotate throughout the summer. Virgil wasn’t really listening. He was too focused on not focusing on how close he was being forced to stand to complete strangers. Thomas stood behind him, his arms crossed like some kind of officer making sure that the prisoners didn’t try to run for it. Virgil had to admit that he thought about it, but where would he go?

He couldn’t see his other roommates anywhere, as they had run off as soon as they’d gotten there, but that was probably for the better. He’d snapped at them enough earlier. Every time Patton tried to get him to play a game with them or talk with them, he’d snap. Every time Roman was being obnoxiously loud—so loud that he penetrated the bliss Virgil’s music provided—he snapped. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to get through the summer with those two. At least Logan seemed to understand when someone wanted to be left alone.

“Alright, I think that about does it!” Joan says. “Now is time to get some grub! Head on to the mess hall.”

The crowd dispersed, and Virgil turned. Thomas was still standing there, looking down at him. “Care to go get something to eat?” he asks.

Virgil rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to lead me around like a lost puppy. I’ll just follow the crowd.”

Thomas gives Virgil a smile he knew all too well. It was a smile that said he was close to losing his patience with Virgil but he had to be nice so he was going to smile through the pain. “Alright, be sure to be back at the cabin by sundown.”

Virgil just nodded and started following the flow of the crowd. Usually finding the source of food was easy, because that’s where everyone always gathered. It was the same for any animal in the animal kingdom, humans no exception.

As he was walking, though, he heard someone behind him laugh just a bit too loud for it to be conspicuous. “Who plays with one of those things unless they’re a fucking child?” someone said.

Virgil glanced over and saw a boy about a foot taller than him with long brown hair that reached his shoulders and a mischievous smirk on his lips. He was looking right at Virgil, or rather at the fidget cube in his hand.

Scowling, Virgil turns away from him, shoving the cube into his pocket. The last thing he wanted to do was to deal with morons. He just wanted to get something to eat and disappear into his cabin as soon as possible.

A hand came down on his shoulder, stopping him. “Hey, faggot,” the boy says, “got any more of those sissy cubes? You know they say not to bring anything unless you want to share with the class.”

“Get out of my face,” Virgil growls.

The boy raises his eyebrows. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said get out of my fucking face,” Virgil says, yanking himself out of the boy’s grip. “and get a life. The only childish one here is you.”

No one around them seemed to notice or care about the exchange, not that Virgil was surprised. No one ever care about losers like himself. The boy reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. “No one talks to me that way,” he growls.

“First time for everything then,” Virgil says, not backing down.

The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he shoved Virgil back so hard that he fell on his ass in the damp mud. The boy stood over him, glaring. Before Virgil knew what was happening, the boy’s good connected with Virgil’s ribs.

“That’ll teach you to talk back to me, you emo fag,” the boy says spitting on Virgil’s arm. He walked off, leaving Virgil on the ground.

Rubbing his sore ribs, Virgil picked himself up, the whole situation coming back to him. He felt his limbs shaking, his breathing becoming sparse. He looked around, but he was alone. Everyone else had disappeared in the mess hall. He looked at the now crowded building and shook his head. He couldn’t go in there, not looking like this. It would just make that boy feel even better, and probably make Virgil the butt of a lot of jokes. No he couldn’t go in there. He’d just eat breakfast in the morning. He didn’t need food tonight.

So Virgil turned and forced himself to walk back to his cabin. He needed to be alone. He needed to change. He needed to be free of this fucking camp.

Chapter 4

#sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #Camp Swan fic #my fic #swearing #homophopic slurs #bullying #intentionally not eating #social anxiety #fanfiction

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freezing-kaiju · 7 years

Text

Stardate: Some Time Before

Chapter -2: Shake, Roll, and Rattle

A prologue to me and @pupmon1‘s Fire Emblem Heroes fanfic, Stardate: 2689

Warnings: Murder, Semi-Graphic Violence, Implied Starvation, Death Mention

Effie shuddered...and felt confusion as consciousness returned to her. This was supposed to be...the sleep from which all ends. The...the others had long succumbed to it...and now, she was fading...or she was supposed to be. Was the project back online?

Slowly, hesitantly, she uncurled herself...and found herself staring at a tiny human woman and a somewhat taller, older human man. The girl was clad in jarringly clashing pink-and-black clothing and had a large bun of blond-and-purple hair. Effie rested on her hands, hovering over the woman.

“Yay! You’re awake!” the woman announced happily. “Gods, you wouldn’t believe how hard it was to make a proper IV drip for you on such short notice...How do you feel?”

“I’m already so proud of you both,” the older man said in a booming, bombastic yet strangely kind voice.

“...I feel....” Effie shook her head. “...confused. Why aren’t I dead? Who...who are you both?” She shuddered and growled for a moment. “Did you...humans...finally find a-another war...to fight?”

“No, nothing like that!” the woman said. “I saved you because...well, I’m not sure why, except I felt it was cruel for them to just...abandon people to die.”

“...not people...weapons…” Effie mumbled, remembering what some of the olders said before they faded.

“You’re a people. Er...person,” the woman said. “Do you have a name?”

“FE...Effie…” she muttered, gesturing to the letters engraved in her side.

The woman smiled. “That’s a cute name! I’m Elise, and this is Arthur. He’s my bodyguard and my best friend!”

Arthur bowed with a smile. “Glad to meet you, Effie!”

Effie nodded and groaned. “...I feel...so weak...useless...should’ve...let me fade...like the others…”

“Why?” Elise cocked her head. “Everyone deserves a chance at life. I’m just sad I couldn’t save the others...but you survived. And I’m gonna keep you alive, no matter what those scientists said.”

“You’ll be in top shape in no time!” Arthur announced. “Elise is quite the little genius.”

“...so...you’re...you’re the reason I’m still alive?” Effie said, looking down at Elise and crouching to attempt to get to eye level with her.

Elise nodded. “Yep!”

“I owe you my life,” Effie said. She reached out her hand and then pulled back again. No, no, don’t touch her...she’s designed to crush fully grown, strong humans in one hand. She didn’t want to...to break Elise.

“Yaaay! New friend!” Elise said. She ran up and hugged Effie.

Effie froze. Don’t move....one wrong move and her...her first friend in a very long time would be gone. “...please, Elise, don’t come near me. I’ll break you...I’m made to break people, even if i’m not trying I’ll break you.”

Elise hesitated, then let go and walked back a few paces. “Sorry...I could help you with that maybe?”

Effie looked down at her hands. “...I'm made to destroy...I don't think you can help with what I was made to do…”

Elise nodded. “Okay...we’ll have to try really hard then!”

Effie couldn't help but chuckle at the woman's optimism. If she wants to try...who is she to tell her no. Effie sat back with her hands in her lap, flinching as a pulse of pain racked her body.

Elise and Arthur rushed over. “Are you okay?” Elise asked. “Do you need anesthetic? Do you have any injuries? Before now I couldn’t see under your outer carapace so I couldn’t tell if you needed medical attention besides the obvious...”

Effie recoiled when Elise came close, curling in on herself a little more. “I just...hurt…” she muttered softly. She paused for a moment, remembering something that happened to the elders as they faded. “Is...is something...growing on my back?”

“Um...” Elise looked around. “...other than the rock-like keratinous plates common for your species, nothing I can see. I’m not very familiar with your species...and you appear to be a mutation to boot.”

Effie hesitated, then gestured over to a large boulder that had plants growing on the top...the roots growing into, and expanding the cracks.

“As we fade...other life finds their home in us…” Effie paused and closed her eyes. “...I think….i can feel it...on my back...in the cracks…”

“Oh that’s bad,” Elise said. “Would it hurt you if we removed that? Or should I put you under anesthetic?”

“I can probably yank it out,” Arthur said, then added, “but i’m...not sure if there are risks attached to that.”

“Its...not a part of me...just a product of dying…”

Elise nodded. “Makes sense...as you were starving, your body removed heat from the plates, and plants began to grow on what seems like an ordinary rock. Arthur, permission granted.”

Arthur began yanking the moss off in chunks. Some stone came free...water oozing out of the cracks, but Effie remained silent,

“Feel any better?” Elise asked.

Effie didn't answer. She gently shook Arthur off her back, loose stones falling off her as she moved. Then she stood, the joints and plates that had been clogged up by moss and roots finally able to move better.

“It...doesn't hurt to move,” she muttered with a smile.

“Yay! That’s great!”

Effie paused and looked over at the other boulder...her last friend. She sighed and stumbled towards the boulder.

“No one else made it...did they?” As she spoke, she lifted her arms, ready to bring a crushing fist down on the boulder...but waiting for an answer.

“No...” Elise said. “We...we brought back three that had faint vitals but...the other two died days ago. We were too late.”

Effie nodded solemnly, then brought the fist down, cracking the boulder...water welling from the crack.

“...holy heck...”

“...I am alone…” Effie muttered. “I am the last…”

“...I’m sorry...” Elise said. “I couldn’t save them…”

“You saved me...thank you. But...I don't know what I'll do with this…”

Elise paused for a moment. “...you could be my bodyguard! That’s the excuse I used so that Father would keep Arthur and Percy around. Then we can be friends!”

Effie hesitated before nodding. “I will guard you, excuse or not. I owe you my life.”

“Alright! Yay! I’ll go tell Father.” Elise dashed off.

Effie watched the kind woman dart off...then collapsed onto her stomach with a pained groan.

“What happened??” Arthur asked, so startled he tripped over his own feet and fell onto his back.

Effie groaned and her back started to leak water. “...I...my back...is bleeding...isnt it?”

“...oh gods...I’m no good at bandaging, but yes.” Arthur looked extremely concerned. “Is there any way I can stop it?”

“I...dont know...I didn't want...Elise to see…” she mumbled.

“She’s a surgeon. She’s seen...far worse. Enough to make me faint.” Arthur said.

“I...think my...back is too compromised...to remain connected,” Effie muttered. “It needs...to be removed...I think…”

“Your...your entire back? Or just your armor? I have an axe...or i could pull it off if it’s just loose enough?”

“The...armor...its going to hurt...but...pull free the...peeling plates.”

“Okay.” Arthur climbed onto her back. “...here goes nothing!” He began yanking away the peeling plates, losing his balance and falling off a couple times but continuing.

Effie cried in pain, but managed to stay mostly still as the rock came loose. Old grey rock layers easily came loose, the rock brittle enough to fall apart in Arthur's hands. Beneath the unhealthy layers, pink rock was revealed...and Effie’s back wasn't so imposing anymore.

“Well,” Arthur announced, looking at her back, “Job well done...mostly. Surprised I didn’t injure myself, really...but your back looks healthier.”

Effie groaned and nodded. “Thank you...could...could you do the same...on my arms…?” she asked softly, weakly lifting one arm to reveal the outer layer was also unhealthy grey.

“Sure!” Arthur stood up and began pulling off more grey plates. Under most of them was the same healthy pink rock, but on the inside of her arms and the palms of her hands was muscular yet almost soft flesh, well soft compared to the stone….to a human it still seemed like calluses.

“...hmm. I don’t know many rollenratls, but the ones I do know seem to have these big razors that would probably help this a lot better than just...me pulling,” Arthur said. “We need to get you one of those...and probably some specially tailored clothes before someone gets offended...”

“...what are clothes…?”

Arthur blinked, and then gestured to his shirt, cape, gloves, pants, and boots.

“...thats not armor…?”

“No, it all comes off. Elise has several outfits, I have...well, several copies of the same outfit and a few copies of it in purple, black, and gold, for when I’m feeling patriotic.”

Effie chuckled and closed her eyes. “Humans are...strange…” she stopped for a moment and curled up a little. “I remember the elders...mentioning...Stalvak. Some...kind of marking...but not clothes…”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “What? Never heard the term...”

“They were...some kind of...markings...applied to our armor…”

“Ah. I’ve...seen those.”

Arthur heard light footsteps running through the hall. Elise burst into the room and skidded to a halt. “HEY GUYS HE SAID YES! I-” She stopped. “Effie? What...why...why are you pink?? Did something happen???”

“I'm...supposed to be...pink…” Effie muttered. “The...grey plates...were unhealthy…”

“Oh. I see, sorry I didn’t notice.” Elise said. Then she smiled. “Pink looks really cute on you! Oh and...your hair is still grey, is that part supposed to be like that?”

“...yeah…” Effie curled in on herself. “tired...want to...curl and rest…”

“Ok. I’ll put the IV back in when you’re curled up then,” Elise said.

Effie curled up, pulling her arms over her face, and letting darkness overtake her.

------

“Elise?” Camilla said, knocking on her little sister’s door. There had been different crashing sounds from that room for the past several hours, like she was throwing plates against the wall one by one. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Elise shouted. “Arthur and me are trying to teach my new bodyguard friend how to not break things!”

“...wait you have a new bodyguard?” Camilla asked.

“Oh right, you just got back. Come in here and meet her!”

Camilla opened the door and gasped, looking up at Effie. Camilla herself exceeded seven feet tall but even she was dwarfed by the massive pink rocky woman. She knew other rollenratls, sure...but even Benny was barely ten feet tall. “...what in the name of sanity is that??”

“This is Effie!” Elise said excitedly as Effie nervously curled in on herself, trying to look smaller.

“...hello…” Effie muttered.

“....I...sorry for startling you. Hello, Effie,” Camilla said, attempting to regain composure. “You’re...very big.”

Effie nodded nervously. “Yeah…I am...but...so are you...compared to Elise…”

Camilla nodded. “I’m a Nohrian. We’re usually around 6-8 feet tall. I’m...familiar with your species too, but...Benny is the tallest one I know and he’s...smaller than you.”

“...” Effie looked over at Elise. “...I told you we aren’t usually this big…” she muttered as she tried to stand, her back hitting the ceiling.

“...anyways...” Camilla said, trying to diffuse the awkwardness in the situation. “Uh...how did you two meet?”

Elise hopped forward and smiled. “Well...I saved her!”

“Oh, that’s good.” Camilla smiled and hugged her. “My little hero sister.”

Effie nodded and sat down with a thud. “Yes...she saved me from my...fate…” Effie shifted positions awkwardly. “I’d be dead...if not for her…”

“A very noble action. Elise has always been...well, the best out of the family. Certainly the kindest.” Camilla smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do very well here. What were you three doing again?”

“We were trying to teach Effie how to be gentle!” Elise said with a smile.

Arthur held up a plate and pointed to a pile of them, and a pile of broken ones. “We’re trying plates first.”

Camilla frowned and crossed her arms. “Why don't you try her interacting with other rollenralts?” she asked simply. “Isn’t that how they usually learn to be gentle? Or start out?

Elise and Arthur looked between each other and slapped their foreheads. “...didn't think of that,” Elise said. “Do you have Benny’s number?”

“I’ll call him. You three...stay here, stop making more of a mess for the staff.” Camilla nodded towards Elise and closed the door.

“...am I going to see...another one?” Effie asked carefully, looking between Elise and Arthur.

“Yeah!” Elise said.

“Benny’s a nice fellow,” Arthur said. “Good friend, doesn’t drink or talk much, really good with animals. Probably the best person to teach anyone how to be gentle.”

Effie nodded and looked down at her lap. She ducked her head down and just...waited. A few minutes later, there were loud footsteps outside, something that put Effie on edge. She popped up and glared at the door, ready to attack whatever is next.

Benny opened the door. “...you rang, kiddo?” He looked up at Effie. “Hi.”

Effie stared down at the dark grey rollenralt, and paused, relaxing from her attack stance. “...like...me?” she muttered carefully.

“Uh...yeah. Think so.” Benny raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Never seen anyone as tall as you, but other ‘n that yeah. Like you.”

Effie smiled and rumbled contentedly. Seeing another rollenratl that doesn’t want to hurt her is...comforting. “That...purple woman...said you could help us…help me…”

“Ya want to learn how to not break stuff?” Benny nodded. “I getcha. I can help you with that. Had to teach myself so I got experience with that.”

“I...I don’t want to hurt Elise...o-or Arthur.” Effie added the second part quickly, squirming a little. “Teach me to be gentle...please.”

Benny smiled. “Let’s get to it, then. To the court yard!”

---

“She’s pretty strong,” Camilla commented as Effie cracked a boulder.

“Yeah...” Elise said. She was staring at Effie’s muscles. “Pretty.”

Camilla glanced at her little sister and grinned. “And kinda hot,” she said slyly, trying to see if Elise was actually listening. “I’d do her~ Maybe...I should recruit her for my ship~”

“No! If you take her you’re taking me too,” Elise said. “...and Arthur. Arthur too.”

“Hmm…you like her,” Camilla teased, poking her sister’s cheek. “Don’t lie, you like her~”

“Okay...yeah. Yeah I definitely do.” Elise smiled. “She’s so strong...and pretty...and she’s trying so hard! It’s adorable!”

Over on the courtyard, Effie was trying to pick up a training dummy without tearing its limbs off. Her face shone with concentration as she carefully, slowly lifted it...and then heard a cracking sound.

“Try lifting more from the back,” Benny suggested, miming a scooping motion.

Effie nodded. She moved to the next dummy and stared at it a few moments. Then she reached down, gently scooping the dummy up, and slowly, hesitantly, lifted it close to her head, cradling it in her arms. “...was that good?”

Benny smiled and nodded. “Yes, yes, very good!”

“Yay!” Effie said, smiling. She paused, then began slowly lowering the dummy down to the ground. She set it on the ground, then jumped back, wiggling happily.

“YAY! Great job, Effie!” Elise shouted from the side.

“I’m impressed she’s progressing this fast,” Camilla said, then grinned. “Maybe she wants to impress you.”

Elise blushed lightly and closed her eyes. “...you really think so…?”

“...yeah, seems like it,” Camilla said. She looked over at Effie, who was looking at Elise with...well, admiration at least. Very probable affection. “Yeah...you defintally have an admirer.”

Elise opened one eye and found Effie smiling up at her. “Ah! Hi, Effie. Y-you did...really well...”

Effie blushed a darker shade of pink. “Thanks. I still need a lot more practice before I can...hold you, though.”

Elise smiled and sat up. “Well then...I’ll just ride your back until you’re ready, okay!”

Effie hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, climb on!” She crouched down, and Elise clambered up onto her back.

Effie straightened up and Elise clung to her back, giggling. Elise climbed up more and perched herself in the crook of Effie's neck.

Camilla chuckled. “You two are adorable.”

The two of them blushed and looked away. “Th-thanks, sis,” Elise said.

---

Effie stared down at a timid thin man that stood in the center of the arena. She had been given the...honor of carrying out his execution. The king and his family sat above, watching her circle around the timid man.

“P-please Lord Garon! C-call the monster off! Please! I’m sorry! I-I-I’ll never fail you again!” the man, Iago, cried out.

From above, Effie heard a dark chuckle. “No...you won’t. You may proceed, creature. Exact your vengeance.”

Effie stopped for a moment and looked up towards Elise...hoping she won’t watch. Then she focused on the small man...the man who ran the experiment that made her...canceled the experiment and left her people to starve.

“You understand me, human?” she hissed in the language the elders taught her.

“I taught that language to your predecessors!” He hissed back.

“Good,” Effie charged forward and grabbed Iago by his neck, just short of crushing his windpipe. “Then you will live just long enough to know what you did to us.” She threw the man into the corner and lumbered towards him. “You threw us out...left us to starve in a dead canyon. You left us to try and survive and survive we did! For a few years.” She stood over the man now...she could see how small he really was. “Then we turned on each other...fighting over the last scraps of food…until there was nothing left and we could do nothing except waste away.” She lifted the man by his shoulders and pinned him to the wall. “Do you know fear now, human? DO YOU FEAR THE MONSTER YOU CREATED?!?” she roared loudly, pausing for a response.

“Yes.” he responded, cringing.

“Good...your fear is all I wanted…” Effie relaxed for a moment...seeming like she was going to let him go. “But...now...it’s not enough…” Effie stepped back, letting him drop to the ground, then she scooped him up, slamming her arm into his stomach...and crushing his head with her free hand against the walls of the arena.

She stepped back, letting the mangled mess drop to the ground. She stamped her foot into his chest, grinning at the sound of his ribcage cracking before she finally turned and walked away, not even bothering to clean the blood that clung to her stones when she returned to the...prep room, the guard had called it. She just sat down and tried to calm her pulse.

Several minutes passed... then a door creaked open.

“...E-Effie? It’s...it’s time to go...c-can you please clean the gore off of yourself? I-if not...i-i guess that's ok...”

“...I’d...need some water…” Effie muttered softly, not looking up. “And...the yellow...stalvak...to replace what will wash off…”

“I-I can take you to the baths,” Elise said shakily. “A-and that’s in my- our room...”

Effie didn’t respond, just kept her head down. After a moment, she spoke shakily. “...I’m...I’m sorry...that I scared you…I didn’t...didn’t mean to...”

“I-it's okay, I just...-”

“He needed to pay…” Effie mumbled. “He had to pay...for what he put us through...he deserved it…”

“Yes. It's just... heck, I should be used to this by now, but the first time I see someone I know kill another person it always kinda shakes me... I mean, with Camilla when I was 6, and...well Father is always killing people, and Xander when I was 9, and Leo when I was 12...everyone around me has killed at least one person...most for much worse reasons than you.” Elise sighed. “My main concern now is...I don't want Father to turn you into a gladiator. You deserve better.”

Effie shivered and closed her eyes. “I-...I’m a monster…” she muttered. “I’m...a born fighter...killer...nothing would change if he...actually used me for my purpose…”

“Don’t say that!” Elise shouted, now crying. “Please...don’t...you're so much more than just the monster he thinks you are! You're fun and smart and gentle and nice and...and beautiful...and you're my friend.”

Effie sat up and reached out for Elise hesitantly, shivering a little.

Elise walked over, reached up, and hugged Effie, burying her face into the soft flesh on her midriff. “...it's okay.”

Effie curled around Elise...it wasn’t crushing or uncomfortable. It was...gentle and kind and protective. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry…” she muttered softly. “Please...please don’t be afraid of me.”

“...I’m not. I promise...”

Effie just continued to hold Elise close to her body, shivering around her as she...she started crying. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” she muttered again and again.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Elise repeated, hugging Effie as tightly as she could. “I’m not scared anymore. He...he deserved it. He was the real monster...he did the same thing to others...and almost worse...”

Effie took a shaky breath and slowly released Elise from her grasp, letting her pull away so she could stand.

“...let’s go to the baths,” Elise said with a reassuring smile. “C’mon.”

Effie smiled and followed Elise obediently, with her head down so hopefully others would at least leave her alone.

---

“H-hey, Elise?”

It was a few weeks later. Everything had calmed down somewhat...people seemed a bit more afraid of Effie, but Elise had been doing her best to dissuade any fear. The two of them were in Elise’s room now. Effie had finally mastered being gentle enough to not crush extremely delicate objects, like glass or paper.

“Yeah, Effie?” Elise asked. Her hair was all askew, not put up in its usual buns or twintails. It was startling just how much she had. “What is it?”

Effie paused and scraped her fingers against one of her plates. “I...kinda wanted to..to tell you something...” But what was the use? She’d never say yes... and she deserved better than...her.

“Mhm?” Elise nodded. “Go on...”

“I...um...look, I...I kinda sorta went and fell completely in love with you...”

Elise’s eyes widened and she sat up a little. “R-really?” she muttered in disbelief.

“Yeah...really...I’m sorry.” Efie began curling in on herself. “I...I know you probably don’t feel the same, but...I had to say it...”

Elise stood and shook her head. “No no! Don’t retreat. Come on, come out of there.” Elise walked over and put a hand on Effie’s shell. “Come on...I...I love you too Effie. Come out and talk to me…”

Effie began uncurling. “Wait, really? You...you love me?”

Elise smiled and inched in front of Effie, making sure she could see her. “Yes, of course...you’re so cute, and strong, and you try so hard to be gentle and soft and it’s just so adorable! I love you. Come on out and hug me.”

Effie uncurled fully and gently picked Elise up, pulling her into a very careful hug. “...I...I’m so happy! I’m happier than I’ve been in my entire life!”

Elise giggled and nuzzled into her embrace. “Yaay! I’m so so happy!” She leaned up and paused. “Can you...uh...lean down for a sec?”

Effie leaned down, bringing her face close to Elise’s. “Umm...how to make this work...” She craned her neck up and kissed Effie on her nose.

Effie sighed and lifted Elise up. She smiled and kissed Elise.

Elise beamed. “Now we can be girlfriends! And...and I’ll never leave you behind. I promise.”

Effie smiled. “I trust you. And I will follow you to the ends of the earth if it would make you happy.”

Elise giggled. “This is the best day of my life...”

“Mine too.” Effie chuckled.

#elise #effie #effie/elise #fire emblem heroes #feh #arthur #stardate: 2689 #murder tw #violence tw #starvation (implied)#death mention

3 notes · View notes

creativesage · 6 years

Video

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(via Your failure of imagination is not my problem – anthro{dendum})

January 10, 2019

Written by: Zoe Todd

In November 2016, I flew to Zurich to deliver a talk on my work on Métis legal-ethical paradigms, prairie fish, and the Anthropocene. When we booked the tickets earlier that summer, it didn’t occur to me that I’d asked my hosts to book my travel for the night of the US Presidential election. So, as I set out from Ottawa, the Canadian capital, on the evening of November 8, I entered a strange and disorienting patch of space time that took me through multiple timezones, geographies, and national boundaries while the fate of American governance hung in the balance. At 6 PM, in the Ottawa airport, things still seemed hopeful. Maybe Trump wouldn’t win. Two delays later, I finally made it to Toronto. There, at our international departures gate, things were taking a turn for the grim. TV screens around us showed that Hillary was slipping, and Trump was gaining steam. I turned to a fellow passenger and said ‘wow, we might wake up to a Trump presidency’. Her face widened in horror: “don’t you dare say that!”.

As we boarded the plane, many of us realized there was no wifi onboard. There would be no obsessive refreshing of twitter feeds or CNN polls as we flew over the moonlit expanses of the Atlantic. We were locked in, for better or worse, for the next seven hours. As we flew up and over the eastern coast, over Newfoundland and out into the Atlantic, whatever was going on back in America was inaccessible to us. When I awoke in the morning, we were readying to land at Heathrow. Just seconds before the tires touched the tarmac, I felt an overwhelming sense of nausea. I can’t explain it, but somehow I knew in those seconds when we came back into contact with the earth, that Trump had won. (The canny pilots waited until we were about to deplane to announce the election result, and the spirit of the entire economy section deflated, save for one man who shouted a muted ‘woohoo’ before reading the room and shutting the heck up).

This made for a dramatic backdrop for my first visit to Switzerland.

The evening of November 9th, strangers gathered in a large auditorium style classroom on the campus of ETH, the fabled Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics university in Zurich. My lovely hosts welcomed me, and I gave a talk on Métis law, watersheds, fish collapse, kinship, and oil and gas spills in my home province. At the end, the audience engaged in a deeply respectful way, asking questions about Indigenous theory, environmental issues, etc. However, the mic made its way to a young man who seemed to be somewhat agitated. He lobbed a softball question at me about spirits, I think. And then, his body language shifted. He had caught me in his snare! Aha! If I believed in spirits, then clearly this wasn’t science! I can’t remember the exact details of his next question, but it was not the words that mattered. It was the form, the energy, and the weaponization that mattered. He pounced on the mic — and launched into an accusation of my work being ‘anti-science’ (a sin to end all sins in a STEM institution).

I tried to answer, but he kept going, working himself into a froth. This clearly wasn’t about the content of my work, or even about ‘questions’. This was about the affront of my Indigenous presence in his rational space. How. Dare. I. Exist. In. Academia.

My hosts grew concerned with his hostility, and he was eventually asked to leave. When he left, the audience erupted in spontaneous applause. And we continued on.

(They weren’t going to let a Trump win, or the emboldened rage of the right, stop them from being good hosts, from looking after their guest, or from enacting some basic forms of care for their invited speaker).

A little while later, I shared this experience with a mentor. I shared my account of being heckled by a member of the audience. She compassionately corrected me:

“You were attacked, Zoe. That is an attack.”

Since that conversation, I’ve reframed my understandings of my experiences of white hostility in the academy. They are many. They are sometimes hilarious (“he said what to you?” a colleague will laugh as we parse out the latest experience). They are often dispiriting (you can only put up with hostility from dominant society for so long before it starts to wear you down). They are monumental (‘a whole department behaved that way?” a friend will whisper in shock as I share a story over a long overdue lunch). They are sometimes mundane. I am not the first nor the last to write about this — so many brilliant BIPOC scholars have outlined their own stories of surviving white hostility in academia and beyond. Sara Ahmed (2018) draws on her work with interlocutors working in diversity policy contexts to demonstrate how refusal to absorb certain forms of hostility from dominant groups impacts those who speak up:

“Another practitioner describes: “you know, you go through that in these sorts of jobs where you go to say something and you can just see people going ‘oh here she goes.’” We both laughed, recognising that each other recognised that scene. The feminist killjoy, that leaky container, comes up here; she comes up in what we hear. We hear each other in the wear and the tear of the words we share; we hear what it is like to come up against the same thing over and over again. We imagine the eyes rolling as if to say: well she would say that. It was from experiences like this that I developed my equation: rolling eyes = feminist pedagogy.”

In Citizen: An American Lyric, Claudia Rankine (2015) states: “Because white men can’t/police their imagination/black men are dying.” (cited also by Kellaway in this interview with Claudia Rankine in the Guardian). White imagination is murderous.

As Ahmed references in her above mentioned 2018 piece, in his work in the UK with the UCL campaign “Why Isn’t My Professor Black?”, Dr. Nathaniel Adam Tobias C—- (2014) challenges the failure of the white british imagination to formulate the academy as one that includes Black professors:

http://www.dtmh.ucl.ac.uk/videos/isnt-professor-black-nathaniel-coleman/

These forms of white imagination, which inform violent white supremacist actions against Black people in America, the UK, and other white supremacist nations, are pervasive. I do not want to co-opt this work that Ahmed, Rankine, and C—- are doing, but rather to explain how it informs my own understandings of how white imagination operates to evacuate — sometimes very aggressively evacuate — Indigenous bodies and thinking from academic spaces.

Informed by this work, what I have come to realize is that many of the hostile encounters I have experienced in academia are, at least on some level, about failure of white people’s imagination. Failure to imagine Black, Indigenous and other racialized bodies in the hallways of academe. Failure to imagine epistemologies beyond those that fester in euro-western academic paradigms. Failure to imagine possibilities beyond jealously guarded white (often male) syndicates. Failure to imagine that white folks occupying space on stolen land ought to perhaps….ahem…tread a big more humbly. They are also about racism, white supremacy, sexism, classism, elitism, insecurity, jealousy, and greed.

But it is failure of (white settler) imagination that I can tackle the most directly with the energy and resources that I have at my disposal right now. (I keep doing my fallible best to disrupt white supremacy, sexism, and other forms of structural violence, but those are a much longer term struggle). When someone lashes out at me at an invited event for my use of Indigenous methodologies, Indigenous philosophy, Indigenous citational praxis — I reframe it for myself as their failure to imagine something bigger than they occupy. Through this framing, I am able to stop, or at least try to stop, taking these attacks personally. To mentally reframe these attacks in a way that doesn’t destroy me. I have to do this to survive. (I am not saying you have to do this. Everyone’s survival is multifaceted and complex).

But, I also want to address my white academic colleagues directly: this hostility is happening on your watch. When you invite Indigenous scholars into your colonial institutions, as guests, as colleagues, to share our knowledge on lands stolen and violated by the institutions you occupy and uphold, you have a duty to be good hosts and good colleagues. The toxicity or dysfunction of your department, the decades long disputes that shape your Faculty or Senate or tenure processes – these are not my problem. If these explode during my visit, you might want to, energetically speaking anyway, clean house a little. Because your guests aren’t consenting to travel hundreds, sometimes thousands, of miles to be attacked or mocked. When you invite a guest into your space, there is an implicit expectation you will be on your best behaviour. In fact, visiting is one of the things that deeply informs Métis being. Hosting and being hosted is one of the ways we build up our nationhood, renew kinship obligations, and restore relationality. We take hosting, and being hosted, very seriously.

This goes beyond visiting and hosting, though. It stretches into the very fabric of academia. To how we conceive of how to be and how to formulate knowledge. But the casual dismissal of pervasive white settler hostility in academe is conspicuous when juxtaposed with how frequently any form of refusal or accountability from Indigenous scholars (and BIPOC scholars) is immediately parsed as inexcusably hostile. Isn’t it a little rich for white scholars to be able to be dismissive, rude, to raise their voices, to shout, to bodily intimate people, to go out of their way to humiliate Indigenous and other scholars? But if we so much as firmly refuse this, let alone openly address it, we are unprofessional and shrill? Marked as ‘difficult’ and whispered about by the very people who take glee in ‘cutting us down a peg’ at any opportunity?

A further concern: if you are a white scholar treating me, your peer and colleague, with hostility and contempt, it gives me a VERY good indication of how you treat Indigenous students. In 2004, Comanche scholar Joshua K. Mihesuah wrote about the reasons that Indigenous students drop out of school in the USA, and among the most significant reasons he lists are hostility in academic environments:

“Many dropouts and “stopouts” (those who leave for a while but return) choose not to conform to the values of the dominant society, and many remain frustrated because the academy does not meet their needs.” (Mihesuah 2004: 191)

“There still is a lack of respect among many university faculty, staff, and administrators for Native cultures. In Flagstaff, for example, despite the Navajo, Hopi, Walapai, Havasupai, and Yavapai Apache reservations’ geographic proximity to the border town (there are twenty-two tribes in Arizona), it is surprising to learn that few faculty have visited those communities. Insensitivity and stereotyping, both blatant and subtle, of Indigenous peoples are pervasive in classrooms. “Given” tribal names such as Papago, instead of the self-determined Tohono O’Odham are still used by professors; Squaw Peak and Squaw Peak Parkway are names that persist in Phoenix (although they have been renamed after fallen Hopi soldier Lori Piestewa); and despite Natives’ concerns about the ski resort on Natives’ sacred Mount Humphreys in Flagstaff, plans are in the making to expand the resort by using reclaimed water for snowmaking (which many Natives and environmentalists fear will increase the number of ski runs). New legislative and congressional lines have been drawn to include Flagstaff and large portions of the Navajo and Hopi reservations. Natives have high hopes for more political clout, but many non-Natives are concerned that Natives will get more than their share of funding, although there is no historical precedent for this concern. These topics are debated in classrooms, and quite often, Native students are too intimidated to speak up to express their views and stance about the ignorance of their instructors and classmates. Students continually fail Gateway courses (basic math, English, and science) because professors tend to have a “cut it or you’re out” attitude.” (Mihesuah 2004: 192-193)

Many of the behaviours Mihesuah details here are things that students have quietly brought to my attention that my own colleagues have perpetuated against them at myriad institutions across North America and Europe. So, again, if you can barely treat an Indigenous professor with respect, I can safely assume students are not being treated with respect either. So let’s cut the niceties and start addressing this white academic hostility directly.

(January 12 edit: for an article that explores what happens when white hostility is formalized into a wholesale dismissal of a discipline, please see Dr. Robert Alexander Innes’ piece “Introduction: Native Studies and Native Cultural Preservation, Revitalization, and Persistence” in American Indian Culture and Research Journal 34:2 (2010) 1-9. In this piece, he articulates how a white political science scholar in Canada elevates a misinformed understanding of Indigenous scholarship to dismiss the entire field of Indigenous Studies. Hostility indeed.)

Ultimately, I hope that white settler scholars will step up and do the labour necessary to address the way that their peers lash out at Indigenous scholars and other marginalized communities. I hope that my white peers will pay attention to the tone their peers use when they don’t understand an Indigenous philosophical approach, or how they respond when they feel threatened by Indigenous law and praxis. I hope they will challenge their colleagues when they, unabashedly and unapologetically, attack that which challenges their very ontological claims to knowing and being. I hope they will take note of the ways that BIPOC scholars are policed for their tone, language, wording, bodies, and being but white scholars are often allowed to be inexcusably hostile and violent.

You can take a cue from my colleagues in Switzerland, who kindly told their peer to find a way to engage respectfully or to leave. I mean, if you are hosting a guest or building any kind of collective, why would you allow your community to treat someone disrespectfully? It’s really that simple.

Works Cited:

Ahmed, Sara. 2018. Refusal, resignation, and complaint. Feminist Killjoys blog. https://feministkilljoys.com/2018/06/28/refusal-resignation-and-complaint/

C——, Nathanial Adam Tobias. 2014. “Why Isn’t My Professor Black?”. http://www.dtmh.ucl.ac.uk/videos/isnt-professor-black-nathaniel-coleman/

Mihesuah, Joshua K. 2004. “11. Graduating Indigenous Students by Confronting the Academic Environment”, pp. 191-199 in Indigenizing the Academy, Devon Abbott Mihesuah and Angela Cavender Wilson, editors. University of Nebraska Press.

Rankine, Claudia. 2015. Citizen: An American Lyric. Graywolf Press.

Zoe Todd

Zoe Todd (Métis/otipemisiw) is from amiskwaciwâskahikan (Edmonton), Alberta, Canada. She writes about fish, art, Métis legal traditions, the Anthropocene, extinction, and decolonization in urban and prairie contexts. She also studies human-animal relations, colonialism and environmental change in north/western Canada. She holds a BSc (Biological Sciences) and MSc (Rural Sociology) from the University of Alberta and a PhD (Social Anthropology) from Aberdeen University. She is an Assistant Professor of Anthropology in the Department of Sociology and Anthropology at Carleton University in Ottawa, Canada. She was a 2011 Pierre Elliott Trudeau Foundation Scholar.

[Entire article — click on the title link to read it at anthro{dendum}.]

#indigenous #indigenouspeople #academia #racism #prejudice #discrimination #culture #anthropology #sociology #decolonization

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tumblunni · 8 years

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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa tfw u have another game idea AGAIN i think my brain hollowed itself out for more idea space at the expense of everything else like ability to actually create my ideas or ability to remember to eat :P

this kinda isnt a NEW idea, its just something floating around in my brain that ive now got more of a concrete idea for, i guess? playing Oxygen Not Included reminded me of it and made me feel maybe people would actually be interested in it, yknow? and its probably not something i could ACTUALLY make, cos it’d require like.. a lot of my own programming. not really easy to just make in a helpful gamemaker enginey thing like rpgmaker. tho it is an rpg... kinda...?? ehhhh im not feeling very good today, sorry my writing is... bad

ANYWAY WHAT WAS I SAYING

Well the idea I has was for kind of a roguelike tower climbing rpg, like Azure Dreams or Persona 3 The premise would be that there’s a mysterious underground civilization, trapped for generations with no memory of the surface world. Between them and sunlight is this potentially-infinate magical labyrinth that nobody has managed to make it through. (At least as far as anyone knows. Everyone wants to believe that friends who dissappeared in the labyrinth actually made it to the other side, rather than.. well.. the other side.) So the game would be about tackling this labyrinth in multiple short sessions. My favourite genre: roguelikes that actually have some form of progression in them! Even though you’re dying a lot, you retain a small amount of what you gathered each time in the form of townbuilding progressyness and ~friendship routes~ and ~ETCETERA~!

But then after playing Oxygen Not Included I kinda have a burning desire to see a game that has the good bits of that and not the... Frustration. To say its a roguelike without progression is understating it, gahhhhhhhhhh! Roguelike sim game of 8 hour game sessions that get destroyed cos of one stupid mistake and you have to be all perfect and lucky and YOURE ALWAYS STARVING and gahhhhhhhhh THIS IS MEANT TO BE MY GAME IDEA NOT VENTING ABOUT THAT GAME Anyway I was thinking how it’d be really cool if a game like that actually DID have a sense of progression. And an actual end goal. Like.. if you were actually digging towards the surface! With periodic savepoints and characters that dont die so easily and have more personality to them and you get all attatched! I already got all attatched to my dumb sim characters and then just got really upset how they kept dying and the game seemed to not give a shit :P

But yeah its not like I can just completely copy that game, lol. Even if I wanted to, I dunno how to program a simulation type engine thing from scratch! So i was thinking like.. a regular roguelike randomized dungeon generator actually IS possible in Rpgmaker, so I dunno.. I could find a way to make that work with some kind of ‘you are actually creating the dungeon’ type thing. i really like the idea of being able to dig your own path through the thing and have it permenantly etched there forever. I was thinking it could be an awesome idea if in the postgame you could come back to the now-empty labyrinth after everyone’s escaped to the surface, and be able to walk through it and have a big ol nostalgia trip. One that’d be unique to every player! And like.. maybe even be able to see changes, like it being reclaimed by nature and flowers? And you could upload a dungeon seed for your own personal dungeon, so that other players could play it, and that could be the postgame replay value~!

game name ideas i guess Catacomb Crawl Boundless Down

and I was thinking the protagonists could be two kids and be a grumpy older sibling who’s a jerk to their well-meaning-but-immature lil sib, but loves them deep down, and has to learn a lesson about becoming a more responsible sib, and etc like.. yeah.. basically inspired by over the garden wall i didnt really like that show, and i felt bad about it cos everyone was telling me it was a masterpiece. alas! :P aaanyhoo they’re not very developed yet, except older sib being a bit of a comical greedy coward type of person and lil sib actually being quite wise but always underestimated. Like, they have more common sense than their big sib even though they are a lil naive sometimes cos theyre so optimistic. Both sibs get each other into trouble pretty often, but they balance out perfectly to save each other each time! And lil sib is kind of a pushover who just obeys big sib unquestionably and can never stick up for themself when big sib is being all ‘ugh ur so immature im totally better'. They’re just like... the sort of person who’s so scared of their friends leaving them that they let anyone hurt them as much as they want as long as they stay. Very relateable to Bunni! Also they sorta try and pretend to be the dumb sidekick and class clown. Cos again theyre worried if they disagree or try and stand out too much then their sibling will hate them. Quite often their ‘dumb mistakes’ are actually the older sib’s fault, and they’re stuck like ‘AAAA I CANT TELL THEM TO STOP COS ITD BE OUT OF CHARACTER. I NEED TO BE THE CUTE BABY.’ And its all super complicated cos older sib acts like they resent them for never growing up too, its like.. cant ever win. This whole thing has kinda turned them into an anxious mess deep down. part of big sib’s whole redemption arc would involve them having to realise that their actions arent harmless, and treating such a young child this way actually has a permenant effect. And like... big sib doesnt know how to take care of little sib on their own because they’re immature themself! Being able to admit that instead of trying so hard to be all fake ultra mature and infallible, thats another big character arc. As well as aknowledging that lil sib is indeed growing up and becoming someone intelligent and independant. And realizing that the reason they keep putting them down is so they can try and deny that, and the reason they’re denying it because theyre JEALOUS! Jealous that little sib might have their emotions more alltogether than them, scared that their emotionless facade of perfect big sibness will be broken, and scared that without that they’ll have nothing left. Need to become more comfortable with trusting and relying on your lil sib, need to actually talk to them about this stuff, yo! Ideally I’m gonna try and write it in a way that doesnt make big sib seem like a completely hateable villain. Their backstory is gonna involve being from not exactly the nicest family, and both struggling to escape what they’ve been shaped into. And trying to learn how to take care of each other as a real family, when they have no real frame of reference for what real love looks like. And also climbing a bigass tower to save humanity from being entombed underground, but that’s comparatively easy, lol! But yeah the idea is that big sib kinda absorbed more of their bad parents’s ideals, and like... they love their sibling so utterly and deeply because they just did not know what family love felt like until they came along. And it really REALLY hurts them whenever they realise they’ve been subconciously being neglectful or hateful towards the lil fella, but theyre so distracted by like.. the greed of being free now. And doing anything and everything, drunk on that freedom! And not really being capable yet of caring about other people when they havent even learned how to care about themself. They keep being all decadent and delinquent and it seems like theyre egotistical but still deep down they HATE themself and this is all just like a ‘fake it til you make it’. And its so easy to get caught up and go too far to try and put on this facade, and they feel they cant really vent their real feelings to anyone. Cos they’re super cynical dont trust anyone except sibling loyalty like. Only way to survive! And like... cant talk about it with the sib either, because little kid wouldnt understand, and if they do then that means theyre not little anymore. They dont wanna ruin lil sib’s childish innocence cos like.. that innocence is their only reason to live. Innocent stupid bastion of family love, came into their life and gave them the courage to deal with those shitty parents gahhh! And part of them ‘knows’ that the only way to love anyone is to be deluded and innocent. You have to be too stupid to realise that the world is awful and everyone sucks and loving people just gets you hurt! And big sib is toooootally smart cos they know that life is meaningless. But they’re entertained by seeing a stupid person stupidly believe in optimism. Totally. Thats the only reason they wanna protect that innocence. Totally. sooooo basically imagine a very mentally ill mess of a preteen that’s curled up in the corner crying perpetually within their own mind, while on the outside they’re all HA HA I’M AMAZING, BITCHES And also imagine that bunni is able to write good enough to explain these damn characters aaaa im very tired im sorry

anyway summary: protagonist is a jerk, Character Development: The Game, you will cry for little sib whom is basically like penny from inspector gadget also I was thinking maybe this could be the one and only time I do the Amnesiac Protagonist Cliche Setup. eeeexcept not really?? well i mean I think it’d work cool if these characters were new to this setting, but I wouldnt actually do 100% amnesia thing I was thinking more like... they are the only two people who came from the outside world. And they just can’t remember how they got here, they wake up trapped in this place and everyone thinks theyre crazy for talking about being from somewhere aboveground. So you have an even more desperate motivation to escape compared to everyone else! I mean of course everyone wants to return to the surface, but its been so long that no-one remembers what it’s like, and so many attempts have failed that they’ve all given up. So you can act like a beacon of hope and lead the people even though you’re just a child. Like, this is about a morally bankrupt trash protagonist being dragged kicking and screaming into heroism, lol And of course we can have some good ‘ol mystery amnesia reveal type plot thingies! But without having to have a protagonist who’s COMPLETELY clueless, and a game beginning with no direction whatsoever. Its more like a ‘trapped in another world’ story except its the same world just a few thousand miles underground, lol. And revealing how exactly they got there and what they’ve forgotten is gonna be a plot, yes, but also there’s the bigger mystery of what on earth this doom labyrinth is and what caused these poor people to be trapped in it! And what they’ll even find when they finally reach the surface again, will it really be the sort of paradise they’re all hoping for? also many tears for sad dysfunctional tiny family of awkward childrens, ye also (hopefully) fun dungeon gameplays

so yeah bunni is tired and delirious and rambling Thoughts at you dunno if anyone was interested in any of this, but there you go!

#labyrinth sibs game

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