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eluxcastar · 4 months

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Number 13 and 14 with Arlecchino

Arlecchino being comforted by her s/o

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: arlecchino comfort drabbles yesyes

୨୧﹑genre :: sort of fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, possibly ooc because it was written pre fontaine quest, not very proofread, arlecchino is implied to have issues with self-image/perception

୨୧﹑words :: 2.2k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met." "I'm going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly."

IT'S HERE you guys always spoil me 13 is my favourite prompt and you are the first of two to request it. completely unrelated but this is so familiar to what Kae said a few days ago (months now omg 😭) when we were talking about One of Repetition and it fits those two so well 😭❤️

to the anon who requested furina it'll take me a minute to figure out how to write her because I haven't played the archon quest but I'll watch some cutscenes and do my best for you

I'll also be using this because I got it in the middle of writing this and thought it fit the idea I had going super well 🙏 that makes three Arlecchino requests with prompt 13 😭 also second anon you're fine dw you guys are free to do with your requests with these prompts as you like, mix them together, add extra descriptions and rambles it makes it more fun 👍 thank you btw 😭❤ feel free to give yourself a name for future requests if you want ❤️ I love having new anons

prompt list

It is not often that Arlecchino shows her doubt, maintaining that half-pleasant façade to hide it all. If all people see is a ruthless woman with no regard for loyalty, then the details don't matter. There's no need to question, no need to dwell. She is one thing and nothing more, and she much prefers for nobody to notice the hesitancy in her drastic decisions, the thin-veiled regret as she watches the children she witnessed grow up go on to become valiant children of the Tsaritsa.

If there is anything more, it is disregarded as her unpredictability. She is a roach in the eyes of others, and perhaps she's ok with that…mostly.

To hear someone say "I love you" is strange to her, though it shouldn't be by now.

It shouldn't be unusual to wake up tangled in the sheets with you by her side or the struggle it ends up being to leave that mess as you try to convince her to spend five more minutes with you. It shouldn't be odd to discover that you've gone ahead and made her tea in anticipation of the time she will wake up or to have you remind her every morning that you hung her coat up to dry after she dumped it over the back of a chair the night before or to see you wandering around going about your own job.

But those events all feel surreal to her, even though she has watched you walk your patrol path a thousand times now, and she has seen you slack off where she sits by the window of Zapolyarny when you think nobody is looking.

You are very real, there's no doubt about that.

The things you do never click with her, however.

Perhaps you are real, but she made up these fantasies after watching you loiter by that one spot in the garden a little too long.

Yet every evening, you meet her in her office after you're officially let off for the day, and you usually bring snacks. You are most definitely there, then, as she watches you struggle to get through the door without damaging whatever you found for her to try, usually only small, a pastry you managed to get that you absolutely mustn't knock from your hands.

"I tried to get something that wouldn't make a big mess all over your stuff," you usually say, sometimes hacking on a 6guilty little "But~ these just looked so good…" to try and excuse you for bringing something that would cover her desk in crumbs.

Arlecchino doesn't mind because you went to the trouble of getting her something.

She got you a special chair to pull up and everything, and anyone else who uses it can deal with the death glare they get or find a different one.

But perhaps she made that up too, conjuring the image of someone fumbling their way through her office door to greet her with a smile, sometimes with jam on your mouth from taste-testing the gifts that she'll point out to you that you hurriedly wipe on your sleeve and pretend it was never there.

Maybe she put that chair there for nothing, and it never really moves, and each time she thinks this, she is sure this fantasy will all disappear.

However, every evening, without fail, as the sun begins to set out the window and the room is dyed an orange hue, the door opens, and there you are again. Delusions can't possibly be that persistent, and you would've scowled at her when she approached you in the hallways if you weren't aware of this relationship.

So it must be real, which she's well and truly aware of. There must be a person out there who sees what she cannot, someone who, by some miracle, manages to see past the things that block out all of the good. How can a person see anything but someone unworthy of their love?

What else is there to see?

The idea of a person who deserves to be loved beneath bloodshed has become unthinkable.

For a person who has been exposed to Arlecchino's worst sins, who has seen everything, and whose worst offence in life is a little laziness on the job, how is it possible to look at her and smile?

Arlecchino often wonders as she watches you. She how you go through your routine of placing your things down, whether on the desk or beside them, then all too happily mosey on off to get your chair and drag it over to sit across from her. She doesn't know why it's this particular day that she asks. Perhaps the fact it was weighing on her mind after a recent mission had her list of redeeming qualities shrinking further and further. It is in her job description, and there are plenty of worse people in this world.

But do you deserve to be stuck with one of them?

"Did you ever feel pressured into accepting my feelings for you?" Arlecchino asks the question so suddenly as you're halfway through walking back with your chair that she sees the exact point you register what she said, freezing in place from the shock. "Whether through status or power," she adds.

You blink a few times before all the motion in your world resumes to greet you with the image of her staring you down from the other side of her desk, patient and waiting for your response. "Sorry?" You let the chair go to return alone to her, standing in the place where you always put it. "I don't, uh…follow? I'm sorry, I just— I'm not sure what you mean?"

She hesitates, momentarily glancing down before her age returns to you and your uncharacteristic expression riddled with worry. She must've made you upset again.

"You want to be in this relationship? With me, that is…" Arlecchino struggles to think of the words, saying them as soon as they appear in her mind. "Even though you know the kind of person I am, you still want that?"

She studies your face as carefully as she can, watching the way you react as you absorb everything you just heard and assumedly try to put a response together in your head. Arlecchino has noticed before how you take longer to speak than her sometimes, but it tends to make everything you say more thought out, though you may end it like you're unsure.

"Well, I mean…if I didn't, wouldn't I just—" you pause for only a second— "break up with you?" There's silence after you finish. She doesn't say or do anything. To Arlecchino, that strangely almost makes sense, but you must be far too bold to admit that to a Harbinger. "It's not that I want to! I'm a little--…well, I think I'm just a little bit confused where that's coming from."

"I was thinking about it." You frown when she admits that. "Some of the things you have seen of me are…" Is there even a word to encompass that? "unbecoming of a lover."

Is that the right way to phrase it?

Again, you pause, and the telltale signs of consideration cross your face. An intense focus that barely lasts, and Arlecchino waits through it all to allow you your chance to answer, intent on allowing you that much. A few seconds more, and your features relax, looking back at Arlecchino with a tender gaze. "There's not really one 'right way', is there?" Your question, though rhetorical, strikes a chord with the many impulsive responses that flood her mind, all of which she keeps to herself. "You just kind of...try your best. Things might work out, or maybe they don't— the point is that you mean well and put in the work."

"That's not enough," she argues, "you deserve better."

"I deserve what I want." Your rebuttal makes sense in theory, but what do you want? She struggles to make sense of that part, the answer muddled by all of her thoughts and lost in her doubts.

You could ask anything of her, and she would do it. Any material possession, every feeling, more love than you know what to do with in any form you desire—physical, emotional, intimate—and yet you never do. You accept her awkward hugs, that it takes her time to relax when you lay your head on her chest, the fact she sometimes snores, that her clothes may very well be covered in bloodstains when she comes home depending on uncontrollable circumstances.

You never ask for the things she has plenty of power to give you in return for those flaws.

She shakes her head, "but surely you want more."

"I don't."

"There is a lot wrong that you deserve compensation for."

Arlecchino clenches the pen in her hand tightly, feeling the slight distress of pressure around it. She can't articulate what, not in the way she understands it; flaws is too broad of a term to use. You would instantly know and understand what she meant in a perfect world, but the world is not so generous.

"Like what?" you question. You feel that it’s obvious that nothing Arlecchino will struggle to say will shake you. She opens her mouth, prepared to refute it, headstrong and frankly stubborn as ever, but nothing comes out.

There is silence for a moment, and no one rebuts what you say. Nobody can. The only other person in the room fights with herself to yield and give in to your unwavering loyalty. In your mind, she is everything you want. There is nothing else you can ask of her than to simply accept that you wish to remain with her if only she will allow you to through her own emotional turmoil.

"Are you listening to what I’m saying?" you ask, frown creeping back onto your face as it tugs the corner of your lips down, seemingly against your will, "I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

Another chord is struck, her heart beating so loud it thrums in her ears like suddenly becoming aware it’s been threatening to beat out of her chest the entire conversation. She breathes, shaky and caught up in her own surprise. Somehow, she didn’t expect you to be so sweet in your words or throw her off guard so abruptly. She finds it hard to believe them. Arlecchino’s worries haven’t disappeared, only dwindled. It helps, if not completely. There is a reprieve in listening to you.

You have seen the worst of her, every crease she hasn’t ironed out, her sometimes rotten personality, her stained clothes, the weapons she cleans in your home. You have seen her walk to greet you covered in blood and gore from a savage fight, kneel before you and hold your hand with the same hands she uses to kill vagrants and petty criminals, kiss your skin with those lips that spill the vilest of curses against her enemies.

Before she realises what she’s saying, she blurts out a question, "Do you really believe that?"

It is quiet, reminiscent of how gently you looked at her earlier as her voice barely breaks a whisper, and she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with you once she finds the courage to make it.

"I do."

You smile at her, hoping she will smile back. A faint smile graces Arlecchino’s lips, ever the handsome picture. Her sincerity is comforting after such a scare. You still worry, and perhaps you will never stop with the way her mind likes to trick her. How long had she thought you secretly looked at her with disgust this time? You fear you won’t have an answer again, though you desperately wish for one. As much as you notice her awkwardness, dismissing some of it and observing other parts with more scrutiny, it is hard to make her talk to you at times.

"Thank you." It is all Arlecchino can think to say in response as she forgets what else she was going to challenge you on. It will return eventually, and she will face it again, but for now, it settles. Arlecchino can reasonably bury her doubt for a time.

"Can we keep talking?" you ask.

"About anything," she confirms with a nod.

You turn away, walking across the room in pursuit of retrieving your chair from its designated spot by the wall. You pull it along, dragging it over the floor, and set it down across from her on the other side of the desk you’ve been talking across. Your seat welcomes you as it always does as you settle into place, now comfortably at eye level with her.

"In that case," you begin, taking the pen she holds and wriggling it from her hands. She relinquishes it without much of a fight, allowing you to place it off to the side out of the way. "I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly."

"Anything for you, my love."

#♡ — anon visit.#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — fluff.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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chaoticsnowflake-ao3 · 1 month

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If you think about kaeya so often you should share your headcanons

an excuse for me to yap about kaeya? omg? anon you’re so real for this

(rambling under the cut)

ok so a large proportion of my kaeya headcanons are nestled in my fics and honestly they’re constantly expanding every day bc again. i think about him a Not Normal amount. ig the best way for me to do this is sort this into categories:

lore-related stuff

i’m honestly so obsessed with the idea that kaeya is khaenri’ah’s holy grail of sorts- capable of healing the damned. in mythology anfortas is the guardian of the holy grail, which is why i wholeheartedly believe anfortas is kaeya’s father

pierro and kaeya have matching earrings because they’re a family heirloom. pierro- who i headcanon as kaeya’s (paternal) uncle- and kaeya’s father had a matching pair and kaeya’s father gave his earring to kaeya to keep a part of him with him when he was abandoned

kaeya has the same diamond eyes as a pure-blooded khaenri’ahn, but he doesn’t have the immortality curse as he seems to have aged normally. additionally, chlothar was able to escape the immortality curse, leading me to think the alberich line has a curse of its own. maybe why kae covers his eye? (don’t get me started on his eye.)

random little details

he’s a cat person

he has a tattoo of the four-pointed khaenri’ah star behind his neck- it’s why he keeps his hair long

his hands are surprisingly warm

he’s aroace (probably just me projecting ngl 💀)

he hasn’t chosen an allegiance to either mondstadt or khaenri’ah- he wants to be like hannah montana and get the best of both worlds

ok but he has 100% been hardcore beefing with timmie since losing in tcg (don’t get me started on that)

you cannot convince me that this man doesn’t keep several knives concealed on his person at all times

he used to be left-handed, but after his fight with diluc he switched to using his right bc the left was burned so badly

there is definitely more stuff stored in the crevices of my brain but this is all i could pull off the top of my head at the moment- there’s definitely a lot more headcanons of mine sprinkled throughout my fics but that’s neither here nor there atm

anyway, that was pretty long-winded so i’ll end it here but uh…yeah. i love kaeya. a lot

#kaeya headcanons #answered ask

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awritingcaitlin · 2 months

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🎻Find the Word

@kaylinalexanderbooks tagged me for this a bit ago and it's time to do it!

My words are: sweet, smart, alone, away

I'll be tagging (no pressure): @ryns-ramblings, @runeseaks, @isabellebissonrouthier, @kae-luna, and @sam-glade

You words are: love, wood, price, coffee, kiss

Snippets from Heist under the cut!

🍹SWEET

Lelia was quickly falling in love with the atmosphere. It smelled like a mixture of good food, good-burning wood, and sweet liquor. It was homey, even if it was a giant tavern. It was evident that a lot of love and care had gone into the construction and maintenance of the place.

🎻SMART

Vinny chuckled. “What’s got you in the type of bind that you need this kind of job for?”

“Violin’s broke,” Em said. “And the sponsor said he’d get me an ironwood reinforced replacement. And that’s his starting price, he’s already said he’ll pay more if it’s going to be complicated, so I’ll ask for more later even if it’s not more complicated than that violin’s worth.”

Vinny chuckled. “Smart. So what do you need me for?”

“Someone I trust isn’t going to fuck anything up,” Em said. “Another pair of steady hands. A good source of information and supplies.”

📚ALONE

As they got closer to the library, there were a couple of moments where Em considered turning back and going down to the bar. She didn’t have a room for the night, there was no reason for her to be on the second floor…

Then the thoughts left. Belatedly, Em realized she’d walked through a different sort of ward. One to encourage people to leave an area alone. It was only after she’d been allowed through the ward that the thoughts had left.

The couch and the armchairs had been resituated around a large coffee table, so that everyone could converse in one larger group, rather than several smaller ones, like the library was usually set up for.

🔷AWAY

“You also don’t have to come home if you don’t want to,” he said. “You need the space to grow into yourself.”

“And the whole thing with the crystal?” Lelia asked.

“Will be explained away whether you’re home or not,” Reynaud admitted. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

“Thought as much.” “I miss you,” he said.

#tag games #find the word #my writing #relic of the gods #lelia #vinny #em

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nightmarearian · 1 year

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helloo i just stumbled acress your blog and if you dont mind id like to ask-

FELLOW GENSHIN LORE FAN????

if yes then what are your thoughts on the next dain archon quest-

feel free to ignore/not answer btw, no pressure ^^

FUKC YEAH LOORREEE

I’m more into Khaenri’ah/Abyss lore, than anything else tho, if i’mma be honest lol.

I’m absolutely interested in lore and stories and general though to be honest I think my attention span and sleep deprivation doesn’t allow me to make up anything to big from scratch

Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

But I’d love to bounce of others if it weren’t for my social anxiety so please I’d be absolutely interested in anything with this

I’m really late to answering this shit to where people have already posted the cutscenes of Caribert onto yt, which I watched because impulse control is a myth and I’m quest locked so-

If you haven’t seen it yet then by all means ignore the rest of my rambling;

So Kaeya is specifically the descendant of the founder of the Abyss Order, Chlothar Alberich. Kae outwardly says he has no idea of the origin, with how openly he handles his last name, but he also says it ties up some questions he’s had.

Of course, quote Diluc, “you can only trust half of what he says at best,” so of course taking that with a grain of salt:

At ‘worst’ that means Kae always fuckin knew/This is just the final confirmation about it, and he knows a lot more about the Abyss Order. (Also funfact: one of his first, base lines, like the ones you have access to w/ friendship lvl 1, have something asking “Is the Abyss Order bothering you?” Not to mention there’s an anecdote on “You’re scars of the dark? That’s… interesting.” Oh, and that first archon quest in the domains and stuff; Where Kaeya recognizes hilichurl aren’t this smart and looks like he’s about to talk with a Abyss Mage before adult barges in. And the. “Let’s just say I was blessed with certain… linguistic powers.” Shit, foreshadowing goes deep.)

At best: He had just a bit of knowledge about it, and confirmation opens a lot up for him.

I do doubt he’d actually turn to the Abyss Order, cause Hoyo making him essentially a villain/major (enough) antag would be… uh, unlikely to say the least. I can see some spying on the Abyss Order and double crossing them though, that fits with Kae.

And at the same time, Caribert is apparently Chlothar’s son, right? He’s obviously affected by the curse, being the hilichurl. And so if we’re going with the “Kaeya is from straight up alive Khaenri’ah, not just the ruins” that either means through shenanigans Caribert turned into Kae or Kae has a sibling.

However, Kaeya is called a descendant of Chlothar, so that’s a separation of time; But then that also brings up the question of how Kaeya knows of Khaenri’ah? His Story says things/describes Khaenri’ah in things in general that paints it as if he actually lived there.

Did he live in ruins? Then I doubt he’d have as much knowledge about Khaenri’ah as he could very well likely have (and not tell us, obviously, the little liar [affectionate]). Not to mention the paper he stole when his father showed him about “what being an Alberich” is about and stuff; embers blah blah; that doesn’t sound like ruins…? Ugh. He has a stupid amount of 4-pointed stars on his design too; There is no way he doesn’t know at least a good amount about Khaenri’ah.

Following the Caribert -> Kaeya thing;

Chlothar did fuck around with the Abyss sibling (I play Aether so I’m gonna say Lumine) to try and find a way to help Caribert with the curse and stuff. Hell, after we dig up the bodies when Dain wakes us up, Dain questions if Chlothar found a way to stop the curse or something. So perhaps Chlothar did “cure” (to some level, otherwise they wouldn’t need to do the Loom of Fate shit) of some sorts that returned Caribert?

And then due to Abyssal time shenanigans (it’s already proven to fuck with time, look at Ajax/Childe) memories got fucked and Chlothar decided it’d be best to leave Kaeya in Mond, whether as a spy or for a better life? Kaeya does still have that eyes patch, after all. And it’s not implausible that there was a name change for ambiguity.

But at the same time, a ‘cure’ for the curse would be questionable - why hasn’t it been mass produced/practiced by now then? - not to mention I don’t think Kaeya would only get away from all that with just an eyepatch covering his face. And again, Kaeya was described as a “descendant” of Chlothar, and it’s referred to as an “ancestor/ancestry” specifically, so for the time thing it’s unlikely.

Not to mention, Chlothar also has a bigger star, closer to Dain than Kaeya’s. As Kae put it “pure-blood Khaenri’ahn”.

So yeah, Kaeya is probably just more of a descendant, if his appearance contradicting the description of a Khaenri’ahn has to say anything (“Light hair, fair skin, star-pupil” Kae is one of the 3 playable characters that has a darker skin tone, he has dark blue hair, and his star pupil is small than compared to Dain or Halfdan. …Though Chlothar has black hair. Huh).

But bring up the fact that he describes Khaenri’ah like he’s lived there and the. That brings up and entire other question/argument. Then what was Kaeya’s father, Chlothar or not, doing? Was he part of the Abyss Order? Or was it just something purely Khaenri’ahn? How is he not affected by the curse; was it the fact that he’s only part Khaenri’ahn?

So much questions so little information. This is the reason I love and hate lore aaaaaaa-

Okokok

Caribert & Kae are siblings? - Again the “descendant” and “ancestry” thing, and he is suspiciously absent if they are siblings. (Huh, the abyss/Khaenri’ah is having the small theme of siblings/siblings in arms. Aether & Lumine; Dain & Halfdan as brothers in arms; hell, in the more abyss based - Childe, you know with Teucer and shit, and then Kaeya, with Caribert or Diluc.

Of course I’m in love with the head cannon that Kae is from when Khaenri’ah was actually alive lmao :,)

And that’s only Kaeya, granted he is my favorite.

Now, the travelers. (Again, Aether as traveler, Lumi as Abyssal sibling)

Right. So we see Lumine’s memories of her time traveling with Dain, in which she meets Chlothar Alberich, who she sorta-helps with his son, Caribert. Then, once she wakes up, Chlothar goes on for a bit about the abyss being the answer to the curse or something, etc.

Assumedly, this would be where Chlothar founded the Abyss Order? At least, this is the main inviting event that leads to the Abyss Order.

I think, if I’ve read this correctly, Lumine is still traveling with Dain, so it’s not like she actively helps and joins with Chlothar. If what we say as the traveler in Lumine’s memories actually did happen, she probably joins the Abyss later; Alberich, maybe partly the fact that she’s princess of Khaenri’ah and was also incredibly helpful to the creation of the abyss order, gives her the title of Princess in the Abyss Order.

Did something happen during the travel that caused her to join the Order? Or was it just the fact of mulling it over for fuck knows how long and then splitting with Dain that got her to join?

Also, if the Alberich clan took over after the fall of King Irmin, then how do Lumine and Aether go into this? Are the the kids of King Irmin? We’re they too young to rule or something; then how was Lumine old enough to see the fall of Khaenri’ah? By then wouldn’t there be enough time for at least one for the sibling to rule? Then how come there’s no mention of it?

Hell there’s even the question of just how Aether could share memories with Lumine. Technically, nothing happened there that would indicate that there’s be like.. something to fuck around with for memories. By all means it’s just a place. Did another event happen here? Was the curse from Caribert just that strong/not as specific? Am I just looking a bit too into this part because let’s be honest they probably just need to drop this lore somehow?

Also, when Chlothar is talking to Caribert on the ledge, he says something along the lines of “remember this is a new place”

Essentially: This is new from what we know, it weird. (Come back here, please)

That either means something was fucky with Sumeru making it fantastical or they just left Khaenri’ah, which is more likely.

Then how long has Dain & Lumine been travling? The ruins of Khaenri’ah are said to be underground around Sumeru, curtesy of Kaeya*.

(*Wait, for the small story Kaeya tells, he say he want to go to Sumeru to learn more of his origins - again, grain of salt for the pathological liar - but that overall implies that he’s never been to the ruins of Khaenri’ah. Of course he could just be lying and as a child he just want to go home, even if said home we’re ruins, but still.)

How recent was the destruction of Khaenri’ah, then? Cause Dain & Lumine are both treating it as if it’s been long - Chlothar says something like “your alias” which implies that Lumine has been using the name “Traveler” during her travels with Dain long enough for it to just become.. well, her deficit alias.

And if Lumine was the Princess of Khaenri’ah, why would she give Chlothar an alias? He clearly has big fuckin stars for his pupils; If the destruction of Khaenri’ah was that recent, why would she be so guarded? Was Alberich suspicious during the reign of Khaenri’ah? But the Alberich clan took over in Irmin’s stead, meaning they were trustworthy and powerful enough to keep an entire kingdom together.

Just how long as is then since Khaenri’ah’s destruction, then? If it’s been long enough to where being weary of another Khaenri’ah is just “expected”, then there’s no reason for Chlothar to remind Caribert about our go Khaenri’ah.

If it hasn’t been to long, then why has Lumine not revealed herself, relieved at the survival and… not-hilichurl-indication of her people? And why do Dain & Lumine treat/talk about their travel, even just in Sumeru, as if it had went on for an long time?

Aaaaaaa-

I’d continue but’s it’s 2 am on a school night (morning) and I have an “out-of-sight, out-of-mind” brain so just. Take this. GN and thanks for asking! :D

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sillylittleflower · 4 months

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Hey Sophia 💜

I know you didn’t reblog the post but if you feel like answering (but no pressure!! It’s perfectly fine if you don’t!)…

2, 4, 6, 14 and 22? :)

The day isn’t even close to being over where I live but just to make sure you get this on time:

Happy New Year to you!!! I hope it’ll be one of the best ones for you yet 💜💜

Hey Lia 💜,

Thank you so much for the ask!!

2. Album of the year?

Definitely the record by boygenius or if we're talking album that didn't come out this year but I discovered this year then also punisher by Phoebe bridgers

4. Movie of the year?

i actually don't really watch new movies unfortunately, i mostly just rewatch the ones i already know, so idk. I think the only new one i watched was the second "Die Känguru Chroniken" movie with my sister haha . That was fun although i did prefer the first one lol

6. Episode of tv or webisode that defined the year for you?

i don't really know, i guess the question is about what episode resembles the way my year went and i really don't know haha. but i mean i guess young royals (can't pick an episode) really defined the year for me in a way, because i started learning swedish and i got into reading again through the amazing fanfiction in this fandom and i went on here and this fandom is truly the absolute best!!!! other than that i really loved watching Druck and Ruset (but again to pick an episode....)

14. Favourite book you read this year?

This is easy, because i only finished one book lol my attention span is horrible haha. But i love love love the book, it might be one of my favourites overall. It's "On connection" by Kae Tempest and it's just beautiful. Lots of beautiful thoughts about creativity, writing and putting your thoughts on paper, reading and how everyone connects to a story differently...

22. Favourite place you visited this year?

Portugal my beloved! but then again i didn't really go anywhere else

ok i really went off the charts with the rambling, i'm sorry!

Thank you so much and i wish you a very happy new year as well!! I hope it treats you very well and is the best one yet!! <3

Very grateful that i "met" you through the fandom!!

Sending a hug over to you!!

#bigalockwood

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itskaeee · 4 months

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yall did you know Navia x Clorinde have different ship names?

clovia, clorivia, navirinde are all very common and generic but my real favourite is that

SALT

which is NaCl. and also Sodium chloride

which are both also ship names for them

(I LOVE IT)

#thanks go out to my partner for letting me know about this #this is the single most funny thing i heard in a while #darling i love you #.kaes time to ramble #genshin impact #.kae screams into the void #clorinde #navia #navia x clorinde

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mulderscully · 1 year

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I find super interesting that you work at a book shop, i guess i have always wanted that. So i am assuming you are a reader, what are your fave books?

(also fvck collen hoover)

sorry, i thought i answered this! my taste is pretty varied. lately i have been reading a lot of non fiction. i recently read happening by annie ernaux which is a very difficult read but one i felt was important. i also really enjoyed unmask alice by rick emerson. for anyone unfamiliar or familiar with go ask alice and it's impact, i highly recommend it. i'm currently reading crying in h mart by michelle zauner which is destroying me.

i do enjoy romance as a genre, even some booktok romances are genuinely good. i absolutely adored the spanish love deception by elena armas. anything by helen hoang is incredible. i love the bromance book club series by lyssa kay andrews. and book lovers by emily henry absolutely lives up to the hype. for christmas i LOOOOOVED this book called in the event of love which is an f/f friends to lovers dream by courney kae.

when it comes to horror of course i love house of leaves, it's my favorite book of all time. it's not even a book, it's an experience. last october i read home after dark by riley sager which is my fav book of his thus far. i also enjoy grady hendrix work. for a more visercal read i would recommend nightbitch by rachel yoder or the vegetarian by han kang, but only if you have a strong stomach. those are books for hannibal and yellowjackets fans.

i don't read as many mystery and thrillers as i used to but i adored the 7 1/2 deaths of evelyn hardcastle, prob the most original mystery i've read! pretty girls by karin slaughter is the only thriller that i think actually lives up to being compared to gone girl, i read it in one night. mexican gothic by silvia moreno-garcia was incredible too.

if you just want some lit, i love if we were villians, my year of rest and relaxation, my dark vanessa, on earth we're briefly gorgeous. i also am a donna tartt girlie ngl so of course the goldfinch and the secret history.

i have a hard with sci fi but i enjoy andy weir, his humor makes it more accessible to me. i really loved project hail mary.

i'm really behind on ya but i love the grace year by kim ligget, and the whole stalking jack the ripper series by kerri maniscalo.

my favorite read of the year so far has been this book called black cake by charmaine wilkerson which resonate so deeply within me that i almost passed out when i finished it lol

anyway that was rambly but i hope it helps!

#reply

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kingdoms-and-empires · 2 years

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Hi! Been a long time since I read your game (due to exam and thesis TT), came back today, clueless to any update progress that has taken place, to read the revamp demo and oh. My. God. The demo is so freaking awesome! But the execution scene... The execution scene, man. I don't think my MC the one who got traumatized reading/watching that. Like. Oh. My. God. Your writing is so amazing that reading it enough to bring chill down my spine! When reading I like to put myself on mc place, and my eyes were wide during the whole execution scene. And the guilt I feel. Like holy donut, I'm sure both of the bandits "rebels" didn't plan to [redacted]!! Our devil gramp gramp only make that as an excuse to "toughen up" the 12 years old mc. Lemme repeat. The 12 YEARS OLD MC. Like damm. Anyway im rambling now. Your game is amazing! Love the new demo very much!

I am so happy im getting feedback from players who haven't read it in a while lol!

I hope your exams and thesis went well! School is tough, but education is worth it. The world keeps getting messier by the day and it seems to be harder and harder to live in if you don't have something that could help you find a good job. This doesn't mean higher education is the only way however! For all my readers that don't wanna go to university, blue color jobs are desperate for workers in the USA. Plumping (rising population levels mean more shitters), welding, construction management and planning, steel polishers, electricians (although its becoming something closer to higher education now, but the pay is also high) and etc are all in demand. University isn't the only path to success.

Why am I talking about this? Because I research a lot of shit for KaE, and I'm researching job markets and how governments sponsor education to have a dependable and skilled workforce for the benefit of that government (newsflash, my USA government fucked up by pushing University education as the only path to success and is now suffering from that). So MC will be able to institute some sweeping reforms that will help their people prosper?

Fuuuuuck yes~!

It won't be all death and carnage, as our MC shall be both Creator and Destroyer of cities. Savior and Conqueror of peoples.

Judge of Life.

And Death.

But who's?

#kingdomsandempires #interactive fiction #choice of games #choicescript

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rebellicnrising · 10 months

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ruby cruz . nonbinary . they/she ➶ DID YOU SEE THEM ?! they’re finally back as a SPECTATOR, and you know they’re one of my favourites ! it’s KEW MARSHALL , the TWENTY-ONE year old WINNER of the NINETIETH hunger games! i’m just so excited to see them returning to the capitol all the way from DISTRICT TWELVE! they won their games using A SWORD/EVASION so their tributes will no doubt be desperate for their wisdom. the capitol just loved them for being so QUICKWITTED , even if they have been known to be IRREVERENT at times. they DON'T have a relative in this years games. ( character ISN’T part of the uprising )

BASIC INFORMATION

full name: kew ( pronounced like the letter q ) marshall nicknames: none at this time give them some!age: twenty-one birthday: march 27th zodiac: aries district: twelve gender: non-binary pronouns: they / she orientation: bisexual profession: menace, tribute, mentor

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

face claim: ruby cruz hair color: brown eye color: grey-blue height: 5'3” scars: several silvery scars from childhood scattered across their body- trips, falls, cuts, scrapes and a handful of small dotted scars scattered here and there from chicken pox when they were 5; a five inch lash mark scar that starts at at their left shoulder that curves down their shoulder blade after being caught stealing at 14; a two inch scar on the outside of their left forearm from a throwing star they blocked in the arena, a burn scar on their spine that stretches from the middle of their shoulder blades down to the bottom of their ribcage

RELATIONSHIPS

father: royce marshall ( deceased ) mother: andi marshall neé brock ( deceased ) siblings: kaeden "kae" marshall ( older brother , deceased ) extended family: cissy "aunt sissy" brock ( maternal aunt , estranged ) significant other: tba

TRIBUTE DETAILS

reaped/volunteered: reaped reaped age: 17 victor of the: 90th hunger games weapon of choice: sword arena: designed similarly to plutarch's clock for the canonical 75th games, the arena begins in a large circular room that looks almost like a courtroom or perhaps an old roundhouse government building taking heavy inspiration from the new mexico state capitol building with the cornucopia in the center of an open foyer with twelve doors evenly spaced around the perimeter of this foyer. each of those doors lead to different landmarks or recognizable areas for each of the twelve districts with secret doors that lead to the neighboring district hidden deep within each of these mini arenas- a doorway in a lab in 'three' that leads to the power dam in 'five', a slaughterhouse freezer in 'ten' that leads to a hatch that opens up to a produce field in 'eleven', etc. in each of these mini arenas that mimic the districts are humanoid mutts designed to look like the dead tributes from previous games for each of those specific districts, rotting and rambling after each of the current tributes-- it's a zombie arena. kill count: three token: tba ( given to them by haymitch before entering the arena )

EXTRA

mbti: esfp-t ( the entertainer ) temperament: choleric- sanguine moral alignment: chaotic good primary vice: pride primary virtue: hope element: air

BACKSTORY

TW: parent death, sickness, suicide, typical hunger games violence, twd levels of gore, drowning, blowing people up, depression, suicide idealization

ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ɢʟᴀꜱꜱ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀᴅ

this is not a new story but it's yours. you're born the second child to a poor family in district twelve to parents barely old enough to have escaped the reaping themselves who have no idea how they're going to manage two babies under the age of a year old. your brother was born first with you following quickly on his heels and for the first few years of your life, you stay just a half of a step behind him until he waits for you with a hand outstretched and you two begin to walk together. your earliest memories are golden candlelight throwing the mine dust streaked against your father's face and the dark circles under your mother's eyes in sharp relief, the sound of your mother's heartbeat as you're curled against her chest with your brother pressed against your back and your dad curled around him-- the bed that cradled the four of you never felt too small, only safe and warm.

that's how you want to remember them and so it's easy to block out the memories of how drawn your mother looked- cheeks sunken in and hair dull and limp around her face- her body wracked with a sickness that has your brother and you carried in your father's arms to your mother's younger sister- aunt sissy. you're four when she's put in the ground in the box and your brother holds your hand while he cries, tucking his face against the outside of your father's thigh, little hands gripping the mine-dirty denim. if you think back hard enough, you think maybe you cried too but not because you understood what was happening; but because kae was crying and you were always following his lead.

aunt sissy says your dad never got over mom's death; she says he died of a broken heart. which makes sense if you squint, looking back through memories you don't want to remember- too content to live in the memories of laughter and golden candlelight, the bed that was safe and warm- because dad stopped laughing after mom was put in the box in the ground. aunt sissy says it wasn't his fault or that him dying of a broken heart meant he loved you or kae any less but that after two years of trying to muscle through each day that his heart couldn't take the strain any longer and it gave up. several years down the road, you learn the truth but like the memories you don't want to remember, you hide it away in your mind-- it's much more poetic of a death to think your father's heart had been so broken from the lost love that it just stopped and not that his sadness had been so deep a hole he couldn't crawl out of that he had climbed as high as he could with a rope before that sadness dragged him back down with a snap.

you're six and kae holds your hand while you watch the men of your district lower dad in the same type of box next to mom in the ground and aunt sissy has a hand on each of your shoulders. you both cry and this time, you're not sure if you're following kae's lead or he's following yours and when you're tucked into bed at aunt sissy's with your brother you ask with childhood terror if his heart is broken too-- would he leave you like dad? like mommy? he swears that he won't-- not now, not ever. he's your big brother, after all; it's his job to take care of you.

ɪꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʏ ɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ

it's the two of you against the world- kae and kew. aunt sissy does her best; she makes sure that the both of you go to the small one roomed school, learning letters and numbers and history lessons that bore you to tears and encourages you both to make friends outside of each other. you can't lean on each other for your whole lives, she tells you but if you can't lean on kae or he on you then who can you lean on? it's easier for kae-- everyone likes kae. he's smart- always coming up with the best games for the schoolyard; he's strong- always winning the playful wrestling matches that turn into brawls. it's easy for him to make friends but you are too loud, too wild with that madcap laugh and frenetic energy, mind constantly buzzing with thoughts you can't wait your turn to share and that penchant for mischief that twinkles at the corner of crinkled eyes and your curled up smile.

aunt sissy calls you troublemaker-- at first it's said with gentle chastisement and fondness for a child who is too curious and a touch too wild; soon it's spat with venom and ringing with exasperation, burning acidic scars into your adolescent heart. there's a chasm growing between you and aunt sissy as you grow older and you're not sure what triggered that fault line to open the earth between you two but as years go by, it only grows deeper and wider with every time a peacekeeper shows up with you and kae in tow. she never blames kae, always you-- tells you that kae only goes along to try and keep you out of trouble. which- you can't argue- is true to a degree. the both of you swore a promise years ago, huddled on the bed that became just yours as you grew into young adulthood- not now, not ever- but you can't expect her to understand that. not when you have heard the resentment in her words when talking to the neighbors about the sister and brother who died and left her with children to raise; not when you hear the regret and lament in her voice when she speaks on the family she won't have because who wants to be saddled with two more mouths to feed when they didn't even come from you?

she doesn't make you and kae take out the tesserae but it wasn't either of your idea; kae takes out for both of you the moment he turns twelve and the following year, you do the same. aunt sissy scrubs you both raw the day of the reapings and neither of you breathe easily until after the names have been called. before your first reaping day, there's another promise made- inspired by the woman on fire who stands like a gladiator on that stage-- kae's fingers slipping in the spaces of your own and giving a squeeze and a smile that always meant it would be alright just before he's ushered to one side and you the other; if they call your name, i'll go with you-- i won't leave you alone, not now, not ever. and as the years go on and more slips of paper with your names fall into that bowl, the fear of one of them being pulled grows-- even more so when it's kae's last year to be reaped, knowing how many times his name is floating around in that large glass bowl-- but there's always that thought in the back of your mind that you won't need to fulfill that promise. there were other names that were in there even more than kae's or yours-- what are the chances of it happening to you?

but it's your name that's pulled, read from painted lips of effie trinket and you're frozen in place and somewhere a hand finds it's place in the middle of your shoulder blades, pushing you from that place and other hands join in- gently guiding you towards that center aisle and you haven't even stumbled out of that crowd to head towards that stage before you hear his voice, shouting words you hoped you'd never hear: i volunteer. the memory of that day is so muddled- you think you remember numb lips moving, voice a hoarse whisper ( no-- don't-- don't! )- but when peacekeeper gloves wrap around your arm to pull you from that crowd that pushes at your back, you hear it again, louder this time- i volunteer as tribute- and see him push forward from his own crowd, moving shove himself between you and that white gloved hand, an arm wrapping around your shoulders and keeping your trembling knees from falling out from under you.

you don't remember but someone tells you later that you that you swung on him, that your hands had pressed against his chest, trying to shove him back into that crowd, telling him to shut up! shut up! effie never draws a second name and you've never hated the sound of your names together more than in the moment when she announces district twelve's tributes: kae and kew marshall. you've never hated anyone more than the two victors who stand to the side of the stage- both who got to come back- knowing that was never in the cards for you or your brother.

ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ

the capitol eats it up-- nothing they love more than a district twelve volunteer, a trend started by their beloved girl on fire and continued down the line with alex and their story of volunteering for the boy they loved-- a full circle that kae has completed and you're just another accessory to his demise. you're angry with him the entire first night, staring ahead and refusing to look at him when the stylists bring the two of you out for the tribute parade; but when your hand grips the chariot with white knuckles, his hand settles over yours and after a moment, you let your grip relax and his fingers slip in the spaces between yours. you're angry at the thought of him dying-- why wouldn't he feel the same about you? he doesn't have to say it because you know now that you've had time for the shock to settle in your system, that if the roles had been reversed, you would've done the same-- you couldn't have left him alone either. not now, not ever.

the two of you don't talk about it. it's no surprise that the two of you gravitate towards the bows and the quivers full of arrows-- hell, it's expected at this point. neither of you have ever held a bow before- sure, you two might've gotten up to some shenanigans and thievery but you weren't the sort that dared to cross the boundary to do something as wild as hunt. you're both terrible at it but kae is the sort who turns all of his focus onto the weapon, spending as much time as he can emptying those quivers and refilling them over and over until his aim improves; you lose patiences almost immediately, grabbing the bow with both hands and charging the dummy instead, slamming the curve into the body over and over again-- not the intended use, but still effective. kae manages to score a seven; you score a five.

caesar interviews you together-- you're pretty sure the whole team breathes a sigh of relief when the focus is mostly on kae. you don't even attempt to disguise the discomfort you feel-- your exact thoughts and feelings are practically written across your face but everyone has always liked kae and caesar is no exception. he paints him as a knight, riding in to the rescue-- and when he turns that attention to you, he says what neither of you have talked about: there can only be one victor. he seems to wait, as if you're the one holding the answer. you don't and your silence seems to stretch beyond uncomfortable before kae swoops in like that knight to rescue you from having to answer: you wouldn't survive five minutes without him anyway.

it's a joke but you know in your heart that it's true and as the morning of the launch dawns, you realize that you're going to die. you don't cry or panic-- it's just a quiet passing thought that floods you with a sort of relief. it brings you the sort of peace that allows you to forgive the resentment in your heart against katniss and peeta-- what was the point in hating them for living? you want to go into the arena with a clear conscience-- if you were going to die, you wanted to leave everything behind.

when the platforms rise, you find yourself in a large important looking round hall facing a large wooden platform- almost like a judges stand in a courtroom- surrounded by weapons and packs. you look across and behind large stone pillars almost hidden in the darkness are doors, evenly spaced between each of the twenty four platforms-- twelve doors in all. the clock begins to countdown and every muscle in your body tenses, eyes scanning the circle to find kae and you're certain your heart will explode before the countdown ever reaches one-- but the horn sounds and the room echoes with chaos. you go sprinting, eyes scanning between the supplies and weapons-- you'd told alex that you were using anything but a bow and when you see a sword hilt standing up in the center of a group of packs, you make a straight beeline for it. a movement out of your peripheral vision has your arm shooting up reflexively and pain explodes through your forearm as a throwing star lodges itself deep. cradling the injured arm to your chest, you grab the sword and run for the nearest door. just as you reach for the handle, you chance a glance back, kae's name ripped from your chest. a body slams against your back and his familiar voice is telling you to go go go-- and the two of you slip through the door, slamming it closed behind you and running.

ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴀʏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ

you're running through a long dark hallway of darkness, drawn to a pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel. you think you hear the door open behind the two of you but there's no way to tell with how loud the sound of your feet echo back at you or how your heartbeat thuds in your ears. when you burst from that darkness into the light, that noise doesn't abate but seems to grow suddenly louder: the electric buzz of florescent lights and machinery, the rush of water so thunderous kae has to shout for you to even begin to hear him. a fresh breeze floats through and you turn to see how the room opens up and just beyond the arch of concrete above you is sky. the floor rumbles under your feet the closer you get to the edge of that ledge and the sight takes your breath away. water spilling from under you in a constant waterfall, disappearing down into white mist. kae urges you with a tug to your arm and the two of you explore the echoing and cold concrete structure the two of you have found yourselves in.

the deeper you walk, the more clues begin to reveal themselves: rooms with colorful warning signs on their doors, filled with large machines that drone so loudly it makes your ears ring long after you leave the place; a locker room filled with hardhats with headlamps and rubber boots that reach to both of your mid thighs when you inevitably move to compare yourselves to them; posters printed in the capitol block lettering declaring 'district five: powering panem' with an artistic rendition of a man wearing the headlamp and the rubber boots, standing on the structure as water fell under his feet, the symbol of panem floating above his head. the canons for the bloodbath go off as you're examining the poster but no faces float in the sky outside of the dam ( because you realize that's what this is, it's district five's dam ): the bloodbath was anything but, only three canon shots.

the two of you have made some sort of camp in what you think might be a mess hall- a place for the dam's workers to enjoy what meager meals would help power them through their shifts in powering all of panem- when you first encounter the mutt. you hear the shuffling and the two of you go still as stone, watching the doorway with those bright lights now throwing every shadow into sharp relief, believing it must be another tribute who has followed the same path as the two of you. the shape that fills the doorway is human but when those same lights that flood the mess hall illuminate the face, you can't help the noise that leaves you at the corpse that steps through. it might have been human once but now as it stands with it's jaw missing and rotting skin exposing bone through patchy and thin red hair, dark stains around the half of a mouth, it's nothing but a monster that rambles towards the two of you. your hands scramble for the sword but it falls from your fingers only to be caught by kae who charges forward, bringing the sword down on the wobbling neck with every ounce of strength he has.

the head falls and the body drops-- but the eyes still move, almost as if it was still aware. you don't think; you just stomp, boot slamming into the skull over and over until it cracks under your foot. and you promptly turn to throw up. the two of you barely have time to see if the other is alright before there's more of those noises and those rambling shadows-- and you don't linger to see who or what it might be. you run, searching for any place to hide, finding more and more of those monsters- their outfits looking familiar and not at the same time. you pull kae into what you believe is a closet and all at once the floor shifts under your feet as the door closes. rocking. but the noises have stopped-- and you smell salt.

neither of you feel like chancing going further, taking turns to stand propped up against the closet door as the other takes a few winks of sleep. the floor still rocks underneath you and it feels almost like being a child again, gently rocked to sleep-- only to be woken up by the boom of cannons: five more shots. still no faces. when you finally decide to move forward through that darkness, you're almost immediately met with another door- smaller- and when you open it up, brilliant sunlight greets you and that salty smell fills your lungs and you find yourself on a boat, floating in a harbor filled with other boats. for a second you wonder if you've somehow managed to get to the bottom of the where that water disappears to from the dam- kae tells you the water in the dam is fresh water and that this is salt. how the hell you ended up in district four when moments ago you were at the top of the dam in five has your mind reeling-- then you remember. it's all the arena. none of these places are real.

it's two days before the door opens and other faces walk through onto the deck of your boat and for a moment the three of you stare at each other in surprise- you and kae and the tribute from eight. all of you move at once- the two of you charging towards them and they turning to dive off the edge of the boat. they flounder, head emerging from the water and they turn their sights to another boat some distance away as kae moves to notch an arrow in the bow he grabbed but before that arrow can be loosed, that head disappears in a movement almost too fast to see. you watch with horror as they fight to the surface with another one of those rotting mutts gripping at them, dragging them back under the water. the water continues to be disturbed and a rotted hand reaches to grab the side of the boat-- you and kae turn and race for the opposite side of the deck, running for the dock that seems just out of reach- and the boat begins to rock hard. a cannon sounds.

the two of you leap for the dock, kae's legs longer reaching the platform safely but it's nearly you that sinks you both, your foot catching the edge of that wood and your shin slamming hard and scraping as you start to fall. your foot dips into the water and a hand is there, wrapping around your ankle and pulling-- but kae still has a hold of your hand and he hauls you up, face red and arms shaking with the tug of war against the monster in the bay, his boot slamming into the hand that holds you until the bones are nothing but mangled shards. the pack that kae had grabbed from the cornucopia sits on the deck but the sword is still gripped in your hand and the bow and quiver are still slung around his shoulders and as you both race from that dock and across the sandy beach, you run for what looks familiar: a treeline.

the treeline turns into a forest and the air seems to shimmer in front of your faces as you barrel through, not bothering to see if you're being followed when the salt disappears from the air and it's almost cooler, the trees around you smelling deeper of pine and sap. the deeper you go into the forest, the more that you start to see stumps dotted between them, felled neatly and left as reminder of what once stood; kae grabs an axe left in one of the stumps and you continue to press onward. when daylight starts to fade in what you've come to assume is district seven, kae suggests that you both take to the trees- adopt katniss' strategy of tying yourself high up where those mutts might not reach you. the first night goes by quietly, the two of you on opposite branches of the same tree, your backs against the same thick trunk- tied together and tethered to the tree.

it's the second night after you've pressed even deeper into the forest that things go awry; just as the two of you are tying yourselves to the trunk, two frantic tributes runs under you. your foot knocks a pine cone down to the ground and one of those heads snap up- the girl from three who grabs for the hand of the girl from five- and she shouts at both of you to get down, that the mutts can climb. her ally tells her to leave you both but she lingers, urging you to please hurry before five drags her away. the shuffling sounds have the both of you struggling to untie yourselves and you try to use the sword you haven't let go of since the cornucopia to try and saw the ties from your leg but the angle is wrong. kae tells you to hold your leg still as he grabs hold of a branch with one hand and swings the ax with the other. it's a close cut and part of your pant leg flips against your thigh as you both practically fall down to the forrest floor, racing after the figures who have disappeared, trying to outrun the shuffling feet and the groaning of mutts in faded and ratted clothing, dragging axes behind them as if they've forgotten how to put them down.

the mill seems to emerge out of nowhere and the girl from three stands at the open door, urging you both to hurry and the second you both stumble into the mill, she's slamming the door shut. the four of you- you, kae, three ( terra ) and five ( nyx )- move long boards of cut lumber to stack in front of the closed door, barricading it from the inside as those bodies begin to claw and scratch at the walls of the mill that continues to hum around you. they tell you that there's other entrances to the mill but that terra has set traps that would alert them if any of the mutts or anyone else happened to wander in. they share their food- gifts from terra's sponsors- and for the first time since launching, it's like you can breathe easy.

you all swap life stories, theories about which tributes had died- you share the news about eight while they tell you that both of their district partners had fallen in the bloodbath and they'd witnessed the career pack kill both tributes from ten in the quarry of district two; they're the ones who tell you about the mutts-- how they're designed to look like past fallen tributes, shambling and haunting the miniature districts they hailed from, terra saying she recognized one of them when she and nyx had found themselves in a lab in district three. there's a deep discussion on whether they're the actual tributes or just lab grown monsters made to mimic them and with that bone-chilling thought- that even in death, the capitol would continue to jerk you around like puppets- the four of you sleep in shifts-- one of each duo staying away while their partner sleeps. none of you quite trust the other not to try and kill them in their sleep.

the tentative truce between the four of you holds for about two more days and in the time you spend together six more cannons sound: seventeen tributes dead. with only three other tributes wandering through the arena, the tension begins to grow and it's no surprise that they slip away when you and kae chance going outside to look for fresh water after a terse conversation where it was made very clear they would not be sharing any further supplies. it's not mutts that chase you from the mill but the boy from nine, carrying a bloodied hand scythe as he climbs over the barricade, screaming at you to stand and fight as you both run deeper into the mill. you know that terra had trapped the different entrances into the mill- knew from what she had shared that just like the closet from five that led to the boat in four, there were doors that led from this district to other parts of the arena and that's where you think you'll lose him.

it's inky blackness that fills the doorway of what should lead to another part of the mill and when you both rush through, closing the door behind you, your lungs fill with dust-- a familiar taste in the backs of your throats that brings waves of nostalgia: coal dust. you're about to turn to ask if kae has the same hunch- that they're in the mines- when a light near the top of the door blinks from green to red and a beeping noise starts to echo through the darkness. kae's hand shoves between your shoulder blades and you both begin to run as the beeping grows louder, coal dust stirred up by your feet and clogging your lungs. the explosion rattles the mine, igniting quick burning coal and there's a wave of heat that pushes at your back, throwing you and kae off your feet. pain licks up your spine and at the base of your skull and you feel a hand patting out the fire that's caught to your hair and you can't breathe but hands grab under your arms and drag you out into the evening sunlight that pours from the mine entrance, both of you falling onto soft and familiar cool grass.

for a moment, you're breathing through the searing pain in your back and neck and you lift a trembling hand to touch blistered skin on the back of your neck. your ears ring with the explosion and when you call out kae's name, it sounds as if it's coming from under water. struggling, you push yourself through the pain that shoots up and down our spine at the movement as you get to your hands and knees, turning your head slowly against the pain to look for your brother. no physical pain could ever compare to seeing him face down in the earth, the entire back side of his body charred and bloodied, smoking and unmoving. forcing yourself to move, you keep calling his name through that underwater feeling, the movement making your head spin and stomach heave. you grit your teeth against it, crawling to him and gently- oh so gently- turning him onto his back as tears fall down heat blistered cheeks onto his unmoving face, trembling hands brushing away the singed pieces of hair from his temples, his name continuing to fall from your mouth in screams that sound thousands of miles away. ( you promised-- you promised, not now not ever-- we've come too far, i've come too far to lose you-- )

the cannon booms and this time you know exactly for whom it sounds. you forget about dead tribute mutts or the other five tributes still making their ways through the arena, grief erupting from your mouth in a scream that scares the fake birds in the trees that surround you, cradling his burned and broken body to your own. you stay like that for hours, darkness falling around you and your brother's dead body going stiff in your hold. a parachute falls from the sky some distance away; you ignore it. noises from the forest around you should be cause for concern but you act as if you don't hear them-- you know what they're there for. everyone knows that the hovercrafts pick up the dead tributes and when they need to, the gamemakers will create situations that push the living away from those who have fallen and you're sure that they're pushing those mutts closer in hopes that you'll flee. but you promised- not now, not ever- and you make no move to leave and they never come any closer.

another parachute falls from the sky, falling just out of arms reach. your face stings from the salt that crusts the blisters on your cheeks and your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth-- and it's then that you give in, reaching for the closest gift and find a flask of water that you drink greedily, feeling it coat the cracked places in your throat. a slip of paper curled in the lid of the flask catches your eye and with fingers that feel stiff and thick, you pluck it out. you can die here or you can fight. your choice. you hold the paper in those fingers and after a moment, you gently shift the stiff remains of your brother from your lap. each movement has your entire body screaming in agony but you force yourself crawl towards the other parachute, cracking open the cylindrical shape to find a salve that cools your finger the second you dip it in. you spread it on your face, feeling like you've shoved your head into a frozen pond and anywhere your hands can reach, you slather it on, feeling your head almost spin with the cooling relief. another slip of paper tucked inside of the rim of the lid is pulled out and your heart is still shattered in your chest but the words seem to ignite a fire among those shards: don't let him die in vain.

ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ? ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ?

the door that led to the mines from seven is collapsed and when you come back from trying to see if you could go back the way you came, kae's body is gone. the hollow feeling in your chest aches and part of you wants to lay there too and wait for whatever will come- tributes, mutts- so that you can just be done. but those notes are still gripped in fingers that have started to heal from the salve and the feeling of them against your palm stokes that fire in your chest. you press deeper into the mockery of district twelve, searching for one of those portal doors that would lead to somewhere else. you walk into a factory of eight, surrounded by giant spools of fabric of every color and texture you could imagine. you crawl up through a hatch that leads into a field of strawberries in district eleven. you walk through the lab of three and you can see the evidence of terra's presence- panels ripped apart, stripped for wires and other important looking technology that you're sure is what was used to create the trap that had killed kae.

two more cannons sound over the span of three days-- one of them the boy from nine that you killed with a solid chop of that sword into the junction of his neck and shoulders. your first kill-- if he hadn't been there to chase you, you and kae would've probably never gone through that door. you keep walking and eventually find yourself back where you started: district five's dam. you're not expecting to find anyone-- and perhaps that's the trick of the arena because the moment you're not expecting something to happen, it does. terra and nyx don't see you, too caught up in a debate of splitting up now that there were only three left in the arena and if it had been the sort of games that you were watching from the safety of your own district, it might have been a conversation that tugged at your heartstrings. they touch each other's faces gently, both of them promising to remember the other with choked voices, telling each other how grateful they were to have made it this far with the help of a friend.

gripping the hilt of the sword you had dragged with you to prove a point that now feels so pointless and stupid, you creep through shadows on soundless feet and shove the blade through terra's stomach as she turns to leave that goodbye. it was her trap that had killed kae and there's a sick feeling of vindication and vengeance that rushes through you as blood bubbles from the corners of her mouth and the sound of nyx's scream. ripping the sword from terra, you don't watch as she falls and her cannon sounds muted from the blood rushing in your ears. instead you turn that murderous intent on nyx who backs away quickly-- almost too quickly, nearly toppling over the edge of that dam, arms pinwheeling to try and keep her balance. with a roar you don't recognize, you charge forward, swinging that sword in a wide arc and watching as it bites into one of those pinwheeling arms and your boot lifts to land a solid kick that sends her tumbling backwards into thundering water.

another cannon sounds. you've won the hunger games.

ɪꜰ ɴᴏᴛ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴏᴋᴀʏ.

going back to twelve is harder than you thought it would be; there had been this almost hope that it would bring your heart some sense of peace-- bringing kae's body back to be buried beside a mother and father that you only remember in faded memory but you just realize as you watch his box lowered that there's no one to hold your hand this time. aunt sissy tries-- but the chasm between you doesn't disappear and not even kae's death can bridge that gap; if anything, it causes it to widen. the last words you said to her were that she could live her own life now-- kae was dead and you can take care of yourself now with your own winnings. that was three years ago.

you move into one of the houses in the victor's village, surrounded by those scant few who can empathize with the pain you feel. at first, you keep them at arm's length- even haymitch, whom you had felt a fondness starting to grow for the old man- too wrapped up in that heavy blanket of a grief you swear none of them could begin to imagine. you can start to see how your father could imagine that maybe if he climbed just high enough with that final necklace looped around his neck, that he could escape the deep well of sadness that continued to drag him down in the way that it drags you down. you sneak into haymitch's house and steal the bottles of liquor that burns your throat but at the very least quiets those thoughts. you think maybe you can drink enough to keep them quiet forever-- at least you try before you're found out.

and it irritates you-- how they all in their own ways won't let you drown yourself. how they keep popping up- checking up on you-- how their hands outstretch to you, begging you in thousands of silent ways to just take it. and eventually you do. eventually, you let them grab you- like kae had when he dragged you from the mine -out of that pit of sadness, knowing that their hands were there to grab hold of any time that sadness starts to overwhelm you. eventually, you wake up and the sunlight seems a little warmer and the fresh bread in your mouth tastes sweet and not like coal ash. eventually, you laugh again.

TFLDR + EXTRAS

kew's a lil d12 brat who was raised with their brother by their mom's sister after both of their parents died in p quick succession when they were young.

kew was def a lil troublemaker when they were a kid/teenager-- jim hawkins from treasure planet kinda vibes being escorted back home by peacekeepers to an exasperated aunt

kew and their brother kae promised each other that if either of them were reaped they'd volunteer like katniss had-- that they wouldn't let the other go alone.

so when kew's reaped guess what happens

their arena was zombies bc everyone including the capitol peeps goes through a twd phase

the siblings had a brief alliance w tributes from three and five but whoops they accidentally trapped a door that led to a mine in twelve and when kae and kew are trying to outrun another tribute and go through the door, they get exploded a little

so kae dies and kew almost gives into the swamp of sadness like artax but parachutes with notes from their mentors helps to push them to get the fuck up

kew kills the d9 tribute who caused them to run for the mine in the first place and then later at the dam in the d5 section of the arena, they kill their former allies- d3 by running her through with a sword and d5 by chopping at her with a sword before sparta kicking her off the dam

had a Real Rough Time after their games for a good long while but like. they're getting better w the help of the d12 fam

is not part of the rebellion like tbh lowkey no one tell them bc they cannot keep a secret to save their life

is that silly goofy homie with a profound air of sadness to them

adhd + ptsd + depression = some real out of pocket shit that comes out of their mouth like has no filter

tiktok vc they're just a baby. THEY'RE JUST A BABY.

def edging on a bit of an alcoholism problem but it's ok we dont have to talk about it

kew vc @ haymitch i learned it from watching you!!!

i swear i know this bio was sad as fuck this is Not the vibe they bring to the table

CONNECTIONS

i am le tired you know what sort of shit we love to see in this rp dont make me spell it out

#mj.intro #kew temp tag: intro #yall this is stupid long just scroll til u get to the tldfr #heed triggers #no proofreading we die like men

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