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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 1 year

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All Too Well

A/N: I’ve had the begging of this story in my drafts for a while, and now I finally took time to finish it. Yay! I hope y’all enjoy, and if you couldn’t already tell, it’s based on All Too Well, the now very iconic Taylor Swift song Pairing: Gerard x Singer!F!Reader Word count: 6,155 words Warnings: Lots of angst, emotions in general, good old swearing. Also loosely proof-read, so keep that in mind.

Men sucked.

It was one of the many lessons you had gathered over your years of being on Earth, and you at this point were on the verge of giving up. Men were just intolerable sometimes, and nasty, and just... ugh. Bad.

Especially... well you hated to say it, but Gerard Way. He was supposed to be the super nice, sweet, nerdy guy, right? Wrong. He was a complete dick.

You guys dated for a year and a half and you swore nearly on your life that he was your soulmate. You loved him with every bone in your being, every breath you took was his. And then he fucking dumped you. Like it was nothing,

You weren’t even sure why, there was absolutely no lead up. You guys hadn’t fought anytime near the breakup, in fact just the week before you had gone out on a date with him at a super nice little romantic restaurant and the entire night was filled with nothing but laughter, smiles, and love.

And then he said he needed to talk to you, so you went over to his place, and well, he ended things. Right then and there. With no explanation whatsoever.

You were so confused that you didn’t filly react until you got back to your place and noticed one of his leather jackets he had left the other night, still hanging on the coat rack. And just like that you broke down sobbing in tears of anguish, agony, and the worst of all: heartbreak.

It wasn’t like inviting your friends over and binging sad romance movies over some ice cream and then burning his shit or covering it in glitter and delivering it back to him would work this time. No, this was a full blown code red. As code red as code red can get.

You were a depressed mess for three weeks not able to function as a human being. You breathed and that was the only thing keeping you alive. You just felt so used and ashamed and confused and unsure. Your entire life and existence for the last year and a half was suddenly meaningless and that was terrifying.

After a good depression slump, you turned to what every world famous singer-songwriter turned to: writing an album.

Which also happened to include a 10 minute song.

A 10 minute song that made it to #1 on the Billboard charts.

And caused your ex to go trough weeks of absolute slander and humiliation on the internet.

Every time you went on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, any social media the exact same thing popped up time and time again: a meme of Gerard with your lyrics along side it, or overall people just criticizing him for specific instances you mentioned in the song. Some of which were exaggerated, if you were being honest.

Everyone knew who he was, not only because of his band, but because he broke your heart. And despite trying to be the better person, you definitely felt a ping of victory in your chest.

Long story short, the album cycle had gone really well. Your tour sold out, the album was doing incredibly well with multiple number one hits, and awards were coming your way left and right. Yet the last thing you expected to see at any awards show was him.

My Chem didn’t do award shows, they just didn’t. So why the actual fuck was he here at an after party? You immediately saw him, and despite the dimly lit nature of the room, you knew it was him. He looked... good, actually.

His hair was a bit more grown out and black, he had lost notable weight, his jaw was suddenly incredibly sharp and noticeable, he was unfairly hot and you hated it at the moment.

“Oh shit.” Your bestfriend, Clara approached you. “It’s him, isn’t hit?”

“Mhm.” You nodded and sighed, “Why is he so hot? Why?”

“We are not going back down that rabbit hole, nu-uh.” She stated, grabbing your arm and pulling you away, “I don’t care how good the dick is, I am not going through another three weeks of you hiding under your covers like a fucking bear in hibernation.”

“It was good.” You mumbled as she pulled your up to the bar, ordering you a rum and Coke.

“C’mon girl, you just won like five awards for an album about how shitty he was! Don’t go back to him.” She sighed, “He was a douche.”

“I know.” You frowned, wanting to add on, ‘but only that once!’ knowing it wouldn’t go over well.

“Besides, I think you got an A+ list fucking hunk of an actor staring right at you.” She smiled, biting her lip and looking over your shoulder. You looked over your own to see him smiling right at you.

“Fuck! That’s the dude in the new super hero movie or whatever I forget which one- but he’s ripped, right?” Clara nodded enthusiastically and you smiled.

“If you wanna get Gerard even more on his nerves,” She began, “Maybe you’ll talk to him. But do the whole flirty thing where ya know, you place your hand on his chest and overly laugh at his jokes.” You nodded with a smirk as you shot down your drink for confidence and walked over to begin talking to the guy.

He was nice, for sure. Definitely nice, but like, no personality whatsoever. His jokes were bad, but you laughed, especially after you got a quick text from Clara notify you that Gerard was in fact staring right at you with a face full of envy. Exactly where you wanted him. Salt in the wound.

After a while, you excused yourself to go to the restroom which really was just an excuse to not talk to him anymore. You quickly glanced at Gerard who was still staring at you and quite aggressively took a sip of his water, which you turned away and smiled to. Hey, he was a dick, you could smile about making him mad.

You wondered to the restroom solely to get away from the unnecessary and annoying conversation. You weren’t really sure where to go next, it was stuffy and hot in there, music growing louder to the point where a scream sounded more like a mumble. So you did what any logical person in your situation would do, went through some back stairs and up to some random rooftop balcony.

You opened the large metal door and took a deep breath as you inhaled the fresh, crisp air of an LA night. You slowly opened your eyes again, after enjoying your mere moment of tranquility, to be met with anything but peace. In fact, you swore you felt your chest actually begin to light into flames and your heart ceasing to beat.

It was him.

He was standing there, leaning on the slim metal railing, a cigarette in his mouth as he slowly inhaled and exhaled again, clearly staring off into the dot pattern of lights a large city like this one had. You hated when he smoked, it was an awful habit and while you knew it was far better than most of his other previous bad habits and addictions, you still didn’t like it in the least.

The door then shut with a subtle ‘bang’, and naturally he turned around. And there you were, your confidence now stripped of you and blown off in the wind of the night. You were a statue, just staring at him. Out of... you weren’t even sure anymore. There was no word for this emotion. At least not one yet.

He did the same. Didn’t really move at all, just stared at you. At least he looked like he was breathing, you definitely weren’t. Your eyes remained wide as his grew heavy and he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his mouth as it cascaded over his face. “Fancy seeing you here.” He said, only a small smile dancing on the edges of his lips.

You took that as a potential sign of peace, and began walking towards him. It would just be awkward if it was just the two of you up here and you weren’t at least minimally interacting. “I didn’t think you came to these things.” You commented, standing right behind the railing. He hummed, taking the almost nonexistent cigarette out of his mouth, throwing it on the gravel ground, and digging it in with his boot.

“No, not usually.” He sighed, “Label pushed us to, though. We were nominated and all.”

“I thought you guys never listened to your label,” You snorted under your breath, “It’s part of your whole image.”

“Yeah, well, ya know.” He began, “Shit happens.”

The two of you stood there in complete silence just staring into the skyline for probably a minute or two before he spoke up again. “Congrats on the awards.” He stated.

“Thanks.” You replied. Couldn’t have done it without your shitty ass breakup. “Congrats on all your nominations.” He scoffed.

“Nominations are not winning,” He explained, “It’s barely an acknowledgment.”

“Eh, I’ve been nominated for lots of things and not won.” You replied, “Besides, I think you guys should have won at least rock song of the year.”

“Thanks.” He replied, grabbing his pack again out of his pocket.

“I hate when you smoke those.” You commented under your breath.

“I know.” He coyly smiled, placing one in his mouth. “I’m not doing it out of spite, I’m doing it because that’s how addiction works.”

“I think I know how addiction works.” You fired back, eyeing him a bit. Again, it went silent with the tension.

“I saw you with, uh, what’s his face in there?” He began and you scoffed.

“Oh please, what’re you keeping track of every guy I talk to now?”

“No,” He replied, “Just observing.”

“I always hated how snarky you got.” You commented

“I always hated how snarky you got.” He chuckled.

“Oh don’t play the fucking victim.” You warned, “You were the one who broke up with me, remember?”

“Yeah, biggest fucking mistake of my life.” He stated matter of factly. You were processing what out of pocket thing to say next but his words caught up to you faster.

“Huh?” You suddenly asked, your eyes growing wide in shock.

“Yeah, I should’ve never been a complete and utter dick and just dumped you. You were probably one of the best things that ever happened to me, and I just treated you like shit one day and called things off over shit that wasn’t even your fault.” He sighed, “And yes, I definitely deserved a 10 minute break up song about me.”

“It was 25 initially.” You mumbled and he looked over more with a look of concern. “Can I ask you something?” You requested after a few moments of silence.

“Shoot.”

“Why did you break up with me?” You asked and looked over at him. He froze for a moment before taking his cigarette out to elaborate on a large sigh.

“Because I wasn’t myself, and I wasn’t thinking with my head.”

“Huh?” You asked.

“I had gotten back on, ya know, shit, just before the whole thing. And of course I knew you were gonna get on my ass and tell me that I shouldn’t do that shit, so I made the dumb mistake and chose all the fucked shit over you.” He explained, “It was so, so fucking dumb.” You waited a few moments to speak. Maybe out of shock, or just trying to process it.

“Gee,” You replied, waiting a few moments, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything. You’re not obligated to. I mean, I can barely if at all justify what I did with that.”

“You were a complete dick.” You stated, looking over at him as he lightly smiled. “But I loved you.”

“You loved me?”

“Yeah, I told you like every day.”

“Did you ever stop loving me?” You took a brief pause, the answering coming way too fast for your comfort. There was a still silence present between the two of you.

“I don’t know.” You whispered, your breath getting lost in the wind. He nodded, placing his head down to stare at the ground.

“I never expected you to come back, a part of me doesn’t want you to. Not because I don’t love you, I still do, but because all the anguish and just torture and hell I put you through. This two year punishment without you has been completely awful, but I know I deserve more of it.”

And you were actually speechless.

You hated the idea that you wanted to give him a second chance. You dreaded the feeling that he was a good guy at heart. You absolutely despised that you loved him, still, after all the shit he drug you through.

So you did what anyone would do: you ran.

You ran as fast as this tight dress and the heels could take you, as fast as your breath would allow, as fast as your heart could beat.

“Where are you going?” He asked, you heard his footsteps behind you as he grabbed onto your arm. It wasn’t a mean grab, more worry and desperation.

You turned your face to look up into those hazels eyes that reflect your own, lighten up by the barely illuminated box light above the door.

“To think.” You replied, your eyes welling in tears as your breath broke. You shook him free of you quickly and ran through the door and down the stairs.

You wanted him to run after you, but you wanted him to just leave you alone. You wanted him to confess his words and trials of love for you, but you wanted him to rot in hell. You wanted to feel his lips against yours again as you had all those times, but you also wanted to never see him ever again.

Your head was spinning as you finally reached the main ballroom again, looking around frantically for anyone you knew. After a minute your eyes just scanned the room and became blurry, unsure of what the image in front of you was, but you were sure it was chaotic and-

“Y/N?” A familiar voice rang through your ears. “Y/N, are you alright?” It became more clear. You turned to your side to see where it came from, a face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Mikey,” You sighed, letting your held breath go, “I um, I-”

“Are you having a panic attack?” He asked frantically, holding both of your arms, “Shit, let’s get you out of here.” He said, beginning to escort you to the back entrance. As soon as you got outside again your brain began collecting itself. “Are you alright?” He asked and you nodded, realizing you fists were curled into the lace of your dress and letting go. “What happened.”

“I- I don’t know, a lot I guess.” You swallowed harshly.

“Do you need to get home? Do you have a driver? Uber?”

“Yeah, I have a driver. I’ll just text him.” You sighed, taking another deep breath and closing your eyes.

“It’s Gerard, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Huh?” Your eyes went wide, wondering how he figured that out so fast.

“What the hell did he say to you? You know I’ll kick his ass-”

“No, Mikes, no.” You sighed, “I’m just confused.”

“About?”

“Him.”

“Oh.” You nodded.

“I think I need time to figure out how I feel.” He nodded back.

“I understand.” He smiled, as your carb began pulling up. “Well, you know if you need anything, I’m a phone call aways.”

“Thanks.” You tightly smiled, leaning in to give him a hug which he happily returned.

He helped you into your car, shutting the door and waving goodbye, making your promise that as soon as you got back to your place you would text him to let him know you were safe. “I swore she would’ve been my sister-in-law by now.” He sighed as the car pulled away. “But he just had to fuck it up.”

There your phone was in front of you for the third day in a row, his contact still blaring at you through the screen. You had been tempted oh so many times to call, text, anything just to see him.

You were kicking yourself for admitting it, but you missed him.

And deep down you knew better than to get back with a man who had thrown you to the curb like some casual trash every trash day, but 99% of your relationship was different, and you believed him when he explained why he suddenly changed. But you couldn’t just erase away the image of him just casually breaking up with you like it was nothing.

“I just don’t think this is gonna work out.” He nonchalantly stated as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“What do you mean this ‘isn’t gonna work out’?” You asked him with confusion and despair mixed in your voice. “Two weeks ago we were talking about having kids, Gerard.”

“Yeah, well, life happens.” He stated with a sigh, “Listen I’m not sure if I love you the same way I did.”

“Huh?” You asked in utter shock, “What the fuck has happened to you? You’ve been a completely different person the last week. This isn’t fucking you and I want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing!” He yelled back, his teeth gritting together and eyes glowing in rage. “Ya know what? This was never gonna work out. We’re two different people. You’re too obsessed with your image and who you are on the outside that people can never see who you actually are. And I’m sure that helps with your insecurity.” That was too far.

“Ya know what, fuck you Gerard Way. And fuck your stupid inflamed ego, and fuck your half ass songwriting that, by the way, wouldn’t be nearly as praised if it wasn’t for me proofreading all of it like a fucking English teacher! And fuck your entire fucking career and who you are as a person because you’re a fucking asshole and a dick.” He scoffed.

“What are you gonna do about that, huh?” He fired back, “Write a song about me.” And that was the final line.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” You demanded, pointing to the door. He gave you a ridiculous look, “I don’t know who you are, but you are not the Gerard Way I fell in love with. So I need you to get the fuck out of my house before I call security.” He rolled his eyes and huffed, grabbing his coat from the rack and opening the door to leave.

“Well, good luck finding any inspiration besides me.”

“That’s the fun of it, isn’t it.” You sarcastically smiled, “I will drag your name through the mud and back, throw it in a dumpster, and light it on fire. Mark my fucking words.”

You knew he had. Judging by the conversation of just a few days prior he had paid the wrath of hell you had cursed upon him, and he knew he deserved it. You wondered if that was enough punishment, or if pretending like you two were never even together was what he really needed.

You shut off your phone, this time aimlessly throwing it across the room as you heard a distant ‘thud’, and groaned, leaning back into your bed. You hated this feeling, these conflicting battles happening in your mind. You had never stopped loving him, and he had never stopped loving you, but he had broke you like no other. Does that deserve another chance.

“See, this is why I didn’t want you two to ever get back together.” Clara came into your room with some takeout bags and you groaned again. “Because he gets you into this weird funk and I don’t like it.”

“It wasn’t always like this.”

“No, but people change, Y/N. And you need to accept that the Gerard who broke your heart was not the same man who you fell in love with. He’s gone now.”

“I don’t think so.” You sat up, squinting your eyes to adjust to the light. “I think he came back.”

“Uh huh, how do you know that?” She sarcastically asked.

“He had the same sparkle in his eyes he did years ago, the same spunk but not in a mean way. When his hand touched my arm I could feel the warmth I felt years ago when we used to hold hands or cuddle.” She sighed, sitting next to you on the bed.

“Yeah, but is he worth going through all that pain again?” She looked down at you as you stared at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” You sighed, “I think so.”

“Hi.”

Those were the only words muttered as the two of you stood on opposite sides of the door. He was still in the exposed air through the back door of your Tribeca townhouse, standing there with the cool breeze flushing through his hair. You were on the other side inside, and slightly moved over as a signal for him to walk in which he followed.

He slipped off his shoes and jackets as he looked around the first floor living section. He hadn’t been here before, of course he hadn’t. You had sold your old apartment as soon as he broke up with you. You couldn’t stand all the memories there and you wanted to run away as fast as possible.

“Wow,” He commented with a smile, “This is really nice.”

“Thanks.” You lightly smiled, leading him to the living room.

“Coffee?” You asked and he nodded. He never drank anything but that, and you knew nothing had changed. You handed him the mug with just black coffee in it, a similarity the two of you always shared.

The following moments were filled with a level of awkward silence you hadn’t felt in a while. It seemed like each of you were trying to strategically see what the other was plotting; a potential apology, a love confession, makeup sex… who knew. The only solid feeling in the air was one of tension that seemed like a wad of rubber bands wrapped around each other and ready to explode with aggressive pressure.

“So-“ Gerard had started and you looked up at him with a light smile. His eyes met yours, and he suddenly remembered how much he loved to look at them. The natural lighting in your place truly did even more wonders to the eyes he used to beg to stare at for hours because he loved to examine the color and complexion of them. They were a subtle reminder of what home felt like, even if he was on another continent. “I, um, how’ve you been?”

  “Good,” You replied with a light chuckled, running your hand over the back of your neck as if you were trying to find some sort of switch that would magically erase the insane tension between the both of you. “Things have been- overwhelming, but good. And you?”  

“Better,” He admitted, “I mean, life could be going better, but it’s not awful at least.” You nodded your head a bit, knowing what he meant and feeling the radius of misery that seemed to drag around him. Maybe that’s where their dark and very twisted new record had come from, the scent and general aroma of misery and despair that seemed like a necessary accessory he wore.

“That’s- that’s good.” You replied and he lightly laughed.

“Don’t feel that sorry,” He leaned back on the couch and rolled his eyes, “I think this is karma coming for me after all the shit I’ve done to other people.” You snorted a bit at his revelation, him replying merely with a confused look and twist of his head.

“No- it’s just, you’re never gonna believe this, but I kinda recently wrote a song called karma. Not necessarily about you- but about, ya know-”

“Yeah, I know,” He lightly laughed, throwing his head back. “I mean, he deserves it.” You nodded with a soft smile.

More moments of the same tension from before followed, and floated between the two of you as small talk was clearly a lost cause now. “Listen,” You finally spoke up after a few moments, “I wanted to talk to you just about restoring something.”

  “Like what?” He asked, his eyes growing a bit wide in optimism it seemed. Something you recalled him doing a lot when together. Like when you mentioned making his favorite meal, or announcing the shows you would be able to go to on his tour.

“Well, just- something. Friendship or something more, I don’t know. But I think we’ve both been pretty immature about the whole thing that happened, and I don’t know, I feel like it’s time for me to be a bit more adult-ish about everything and at least accept that the past is the past, and try to move on.” It took him a good few seconds to even begin to process your words, and judging by the frozen features on his face, it seemed he didn’t know how to respond for a bit.

“Well, um,” He awkwardly replied, “I’m not against it at all, I’m really glad you wanna try something because I do too, but I’m not sure how I could even begin to start repairing any of the damage I’ve done- I mean, I said and did some awful things to you and just tried to make you feel worthless because that’s how I was feeling.”  You nodded in response, “And I get that. That’s why I’m willing to forgive you, now.” You replied, softly placing your hand over his that sat in the middle of the couch.

He looked down briefly at the contact, his pale face suddenly glowing a bit more red as a blush slowly painted his cheeks.

“I- I appreciate it, but I haven’t really done much to deserve it-“

  “Gee, you’re here today. In my apartment, the girl who you crushed, willingly admitting to your wrongdoing.” You promptly replied, “Also, you did admit the 10 minute song was good.”

  “I mean, yeah, it was almost an epic of a song.” He replied quickly as if it was obvious.

“Thanks,” You softly smiled, “So, at least friends. And if something else comes up, maybe we’ll try more than friends again.”

  “I would like that,” He quickly nodded, “A lot, actually.”

This was so uncharacteristic of you.

In fact, staring at his bedroom ceiling, now, the fan running, and a slight dink from a loose screw on it echoing through the room, you had begun to question every breath you had taken in the last 24 hours. Every step you took was now being analyzed in your mind as to how your feet took you here, and your heart interrupting it with it’s beats of love.

His slight morning snore, as you fondly recalled it, didn’t help either, or his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. You were trapped between a choice of freedom and non confrontation to your left, or the sleeping man who you hated for years on your right.

But his death grip was making this impossible, you couldn’t escape if you wanted to, but you were also freaking out… a lot at this point. So much is that you began to feel your lines constricting centimeter by centimeter, and your breath growing heavy and urgent. Your mind began fogging as eyes became dizzy, and were only broken from your trace by a slight shake.

“Y/N/N,” He asked, sitting above you a bit with a concerned look. His face was twisted to your side as if coming out of the right part of your vision from where you laid, grabbing the covers on top of you, “You alright?” He asked. You quickly cleared your throat and nodded a bit.

“Yup, fine.” You admitted, sitting up on your forearms as he gave you more room.

“You sure? Your breathing became heavy all of a sudden and-“

“Yup! Perfectly fine.” You tried to admit as optimistic as possible which came out more as passive aggressive. You quickly got up, wrapping some sheets around you at the edge of the bed, quickly rearranging your clothes on yourself from the night before.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked more starkly, noticing your jittery movements. He got up, and began redressing himself as well, “Baby, I need you to talk to me.”  

“Don’t-“ You almost fired back, taking a moment to stop yourself and lower your tone, “Don’t call me that.” You said, finally pulling your shirt over your head.

“Oh- okay.” He replied, confused as he put his shirt on too.

“I just- I need to get out of here.” You frantically said, grabbing your bag and phone.

“What?” He asked again, squinting his eyes at you, confusion clearly taking over every thought in hid mind, “I- Y/N, seriously, what the fuck is wrong?” 

“Everything, Gerard!” You yelled back, his face now in shock at your roar. He remembered having your first serious sit down conversation with one another. The one where you each pour out all of your problems on the table, sort through them in conversation like a deck of cards, and finish with passionate sex now that you each knew everything about each other? That one.

You had brought up your anger issues, and despite your juvenile level of anger had long been cooler down to where you stood now, he had been fairly warned about your potential out breaks. It was when you were overly anxious and unsure of how to react to something, so you resorted to overwhelming anger of what was causing you to feel that way. This, was clearly, one of those times.

“Can you just- please shut up for a second.” You heavily sighed, him still staring at you wide eyed.

You took a moment to breath, retreating back to your cleaning up after, and finally after a good minute or two, spoke again. “I- we can’t do this.” You stated, matter of factly, looking at him, “This is against everything I’ve held myself to ever, this goes against all my morals, and most of all makes me feels like some sort of whore, so I need to go.”  

Gerard sat still and silent at your self-realization, and only moved with a flinch when he heard the front door slam shut. He then sat, again still, specifically at his wall, and wondered what he had done wrong. You and he had possibly the best night you had with each other just the prior night, and he couldn’t count on his fingers each of you whispered “I love you” to the other. He knew he meant every note of the phrase that came out of his mouth, but now he was wondering the same for you.

“I need a cigarette.” Was all he murmured, getting up and finding his pack and lighters on his bedside table. You knew you loved (despite the fact you always said it was nasty) when he smoked in bed after sex with you under his arm, and last night was no different. A blush always grew on your face and you would always nuzzle closer to him every time he did it, your eyes always glued to his mouth and the smoke that came out of it.

He headed out onto his apartment fire escape/turned balcony and briefly looked down below to the city streets on this cold, rainy, Sunday morning. No better time than for everything to go to shit again. He took a deep inhale after lighting the thin paper, and finally exhaled, looking away from the smoke like he did when a bit annoyed.

In the days that followed, he had set his expectations to be filled with nasty texts and calls from your friends berating him for letting you sleep with him again and get attached. Granted, as cliche as it sounded, the whole “it takes two to tango” scenario was oddly fitting for what was currently going on. He had to set half the blame on you, cut even and sliced to perfection, considering that neither of you would be in this confusing scenario had you just stayed away… but damn was that a hard and daunting task.

He had known from the first few weeks of dating you all those years ago that you were the one for him, and no one would truly compare to the way you made him feel. He was optimistic and happy for the first time in his life, you set off a sort of fire in him that made him feel more human. You were his person, but the whole bullshit of “right person, wrong time” seemed to be the motto of the entire relationship.

He heard his phone ping, laying on the couch and still smoking, a habit that had been indulged into these last couple of days, and reached for the device. He picked it up, flashing his screen and groaned. Of course she had to text him right now out of all times.

He wasn’t even sure if he owed her a response to her petty plea to get him to come over and the numerous risqué pictures she had sent to top it all off made him scoff. It had been months since they had done anything with each other, but the universe clearly had other plans to take the knife already plunged in his chest and turn it.

He simply replied with a “No.” and put his phone back down. If she texted more with pathetic drags at trying to get him to respond, he would simply block her. But he wouldn’t be a dick and make that his first move, at least he would be respectful, slightly, about it at first.

He took another long drag, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before releasing, and heard a faint knock at his door. He sat up a bit, confused and not expecting any visitors, getting up and walking over figuring maybe it was just Mikey. But much to his surprise, when he opened the door, it was you.

You both stared at each other for a good few seconds, before you finally spoke up, “Hi.” You said, simply. He noticed your wet jackets and boots, moving out of the way, and opening the door to let you in.

Nothing was spoken between the time when you slipped off your coat and boots, him graciously hanging your coat on the rack, and sitting down on the couch across from each other. The same whole scenario you went through when decisively saying, “Let’s just be friends” turned into passionate sex.

“So,” He started, looking at you curiously, “Why’re you here?”

“Um,” You began awkwardly, sighing while mentally contemplating what to say next, something you, shockingly enough, had not planned much on your way here. “I came to apologize for running the other night- or morning, really. I just- I got scared and I didn’t know how to handle my emotions and so I ran. And I’m sorry for that, you didn’t deserve to be left like that with no explanation.”

While he wanted to hold a bit of a grudge against your excuse for just leaving him for days, he also knew he was indirectly the cause that put you here. Of course you ran from him, you were scared if you didn’t leave first, he would leave. He took a sigh, himself, composing how to explain his own thoughts without coming off as completely dismissive.

“It’s okay, really.” He finally said, “I- you wouldn’t have to deal with those emotions had I not put you there. But I did, and that’s unfair to you as well. So- just, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah- but,” You began, trying to find some way to genuinely get your apology across as you still seemed to believe he was just saying that.

“No, Y/N, I completely understand why you did it, and it’s okay, really. You needed time to think and breathe.”

“I just feel really immature about it all,” You continued, “I really shouldn’t have done that.”  “And I forgive you.” He stated, placing his hand on your knee which finally got a small smile out of you.

“Can we, maybe, restart this for like, the second or third time?” You lightly laughed as he smiled and nodded.

“I would love that,” He replied, “But this time I’ll take you out to dinner first, forgot that the first time, well second time around, technically.”

#gerard way #mcr gerard #gerard way fanfiction #my chemical gerard #gee way #my chemical gee #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical romance x reader #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n

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castletown-cafe · 5 months

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Life Updates, AuDHD, and A Mental Trainwreck

Content Warnings: Mental illness, current events, betrayal trauma, abuse, & family death.

It's time I talked about how things have been for me lately. I'm tired of hyping up all these things/projects I can't commit to, it feels like I'm making promises I can't fulfill. I get too ambitious, I get too many ideas, and even the ones I manage to see through, I just do not enjoy the writing portion.

About a year ago, my focus drifted away from Castletown Cafe. Many of you here may know what that's like to lose interest/hyperfixation on one thing and get fixated on something else, that's natural for us with autism and ADHD. We get an intense hyperfocus on a topic or project for a while only to shift to the next topic, losing interest or forgetting about the previous. I got really fixated on Pokemon Scarlet & Violet, Splatoon 3, and ACNH this past year, as well as making my own unrelated cooking projects revolving around seasonal ingredients. This fall, I got crazy ambitious for an entire fall-themed cookbook and even a Halloween one, things that obviously will take years of practice and experimentation (and need year-round work).

On top of that, however, I have not been feeling as well mentally this year. I've had less motivation to draw, and felt a stronger dislike of writing. If you have ADHD you know how hard it is to get yourself to do something you don't want to do. It's like pulling teeth. I've always had issues with executive dysfunction, and I wonder how much of it I've succumbed to this year. And while I've never been diagnosed with clinical depression, I'm wondering/concerned if I am showing signs of it like I might have been this year with my lack of motivation, my focus and drive getting worse, loss of enjoyment of things I ordinarily enjoy doing, such as drawing, feeling sad more often, and either sleeping too much or too little.

Granted the events of this fall haven't helped. We all know what's going on in the world right now. It's horrifying, it's depressing, and it's easy to feel helpless, but we all have the power to protest, to boycott, and to use social media to amplify voices of the marginalized. I have been very active on Twitter with this, but it has also been hard to enjoy my favorite times of year, the fall and Halloween, when tens of thousands are being massacred. It's no wonder I have been so depressed this fall, knowing the country we live in is siding with the colonizers and is actively funding genocide. Our tax dollars are being used to fund this and many, if not most, American brands and companies are also in favor of it.

Then, in November, I discover that an 80s band I liked is guilty of VERY inappropriate behavior toward women. One I had been listening to for the past few years. Fronted by a guy whose music I had enjoyed since childhood. I shouldn't have been so surprised, but it still broke me anyway. Another betrayal was a YouTuber who turned out to be an imposter with no thoughts or opinions of his own, only stolen from others. Yet another was a confirmation of suspicions I had toward a certain animator having NPD and being abusive, (who, to be honest, I never actually liked, just her art style and cartoons).

Oh, but that's not all! Here's where it gets really personal, but I think I really need to disclose this. On top of everything going on, I had two deaths in the family recently. One was a parent whom I didn't get along with very well, the other was my old pup Oscar. My old doggo has been easier to grieve, because he was a sweet, good boy....and honestly....he deserved a better end to his life than what he got. He was living with my father, keeping him company. My father was the parent I had a bad relationship with, and is the reason I advocate strongly for responsible and careful drinking. Because he failed to do that. He always used alcohol for self-medication, something you should NEVER do. His substance abuse got worse and worse over the years, driving him meaner and more abusive. He was never really kind to me, even if he tried to be. I never had a good relationship with my father, and honestly I know a lot of people can relate to that with one or both of their parents. A lot of us have betrayal trauma from growing up, maybe you have parents who don't love you unconditionally, or parents who never wanted to be parents, emotionally or physically abusive parents, you get the idea. Mine just so happened to be a man born and raised in a time where there was no diagnosis for his neurodivergence. He had tons of internalized ableism that he pushed onto me, and modelled horrible, angry behavior. He also had depression, but never sought help, and I believe that's due to toxic masculinity.

He can't hurt me anymore, though. I moved out of his house almost 5 years ago, and I wish it had been sooner. I'm not sure how to feel about his passing, because of how he treated me when he was alive. One thing I have been feeling though, is stress. He has left behind a house that is a disaster because he neglected to take care of it, tons of debt because he had failed to pay his bills, and no will whatsoever so inheritance is also going to be a mess to untangle. My family and I have been going back to that house to clean it, get it repaired, and figure out what to do with everything left behind. Right in the middle of a holiday season. What fun /sarcasm.

On the topic of Oscar, it's safe to say how he passed/what happened. My father went first, and so Oscar just curled up next to him.....and stayed there until he also died. And honestly....that's just heartbreaking.....I wish Oscar could've howled for help, that someone could have heard him and come to his rescue and taken care of him....but he didn't....I just wish i could have been by Oscar's side in his final moments. I know he was an old dog, he lived to be 15 and a half...but he's with my grandma now and I hope she's taking good care of him, wherever they are.

Meanwhile, Penny has been a new family member since July. She has been by my side to give hugs and cuddles, and I've needed them a lot these past few weeks. Since Oscar stayed behind to keep my father company when I moved out a few years ago, I missed my puppy, and having a little doggo around. And so, enter Penny. She's even registered as an emotional support animal, or ESA, and she goes all kinds of places with me. I love the attention she gets from other people when we go shopping together. Her cuteness lightens up a room and makes the day of many people.

My little fluffy girl has been a big help getting me through everything this season.

Back to Castletown Cafe, it may take a while, but I hope one day to return to it. I have all kinds of ideas and things I want to make and practice, and I also hope to create more content in 2024, even doing more live gaming on Twitch. I got a new computer for streaming, but I still need a monitor for it. I wanna have a streaming schedule and everything.

I really appreciate all of you who are still here even though I haven't been able to make many new things or deliver upon hyped ideas. I feel bad about my lack of content this year, though with recent life events I think it's really understandable as to why I haven't been able to churn out much in that regard.

One more thing: I do want to disclose that my ADHD is unmedicated. I can't get medication for it (not with this hell-thcare system) and I don't know what I should take for executive dysfunction. For those of you who made it this far with ADHD, what do you recommend?

Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read this, especially if you made it all the way to the end here. I know it was a lot, and some of this is REALLY heavy stuff. These are things that we all do go through, however.

Thank you.

~ Mari 🧡

#long post #cw: death #cw: abuse #cw: addiction #cw: grief #mari speaks

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dailycass-cain · 1 year

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My Top 10 Favorite Cass Stories

Just last year ago I gave a list of my ten favorite Cass stories on Twitter (and here’s the 2020 edition. The funny thing is, not even a year later I look upon the last list (along with the bad) and my thoughts on some of these stories have changed.

Not to mention, we’re only two months into 2023 and we’ve already got a Cass story that already makes this list for me.

So I figure it’s 2023 and I haven’t posted my favorite Cass stories here. Let’s change that. So here are my Top Ten Favorite Cassandra Cain stories. You may not agree with them. Maybe you will? Just that these are my opinion.

The thing about me and lists. They always mostly change. You compare my lists from years past. They may not completely match up (or in some places they will). Change always occur.

That said. Let’s start with my honorable mentions.

Honorable Mention #1: Detective Comics #790

- It's just a dark uneasy tale due to Pete Woods' art and Andersen Gabrych's story. Bruce is a little more unnerved than usual (Jason's anniversary) and Cass is brought in personally to steer him back.

Why? Because of all the people of the Bat-Family, she understands him best. The dynamic between Bruce/Cass here. Teacher/heir is just so all over this story. You can tell Bruce really wants Cass to truly be his heir.

If there are any issues I have with this being better is well it’s the prelude to “War Games” and I’m not really fond of the negative talk Bruce has with Cass regarding Stephanie Brown.

Ironically, for a while the last good main Batman book story Cass had for awhile until...

Honorable Mention #2: Detective Comics #950, 955

- Until this one. Though I’ll be honest “Night of the Monster Men” is a FUN story too that has Cass, but Cass really isn’t central to the plot in that. These issues were the first “main book” story that focused on Cass since-- 2004.

What truly keeps this book low for me being an honorable mention are the same flaws that pop up in my “worst list” of Cass stories. If you take these two issues alone? The story is absolute gold.

The full arc? (#950-956) are the reasons it got knocked down. Still, Marcio Takara and James Tynion IV together make the most of this story even with the hurdles higher ups (and Tynion’s own juggling the massive cast this run had) stall it.

I still think the arc would be more favorable if it ended with Bruce/Kate taking Cass to see Christine and well just a happy ending. Not to mention we get mostly zero fallout from what occurs here (the subplot of Ra’s here is tossed out due to Tynion having to leave the comic so he could go onto Justice League Dark).

What still hits hard about these two issues IS Takara’s art. As those who are currently reading the Poison Ivy series, Takara can do some banger spreads. We have a few here with an "Old Boy" homage Takara throws in with Cass for good measure.

Takara’s art and just the emotion he brings is why this story is STILL lingers.

Honorable Mention #3: Superboy #85

- Yes, the villain for this comic is all too forgettable. That’s really why it’ll alway be here. But why it remains always is the banter. Between the team-up of Cass/Kon (also the opening/closing Tim/Kon segments) that truly shines here. Much like Batman, you throw Cass with a character outside her zone, MOMENTS HAPPEN.

Boy we get some hilarious moments that are truly chuckle worthy. There’s just something natural seeing the heroes here interact with one another. Something that feels kind of missing mostly in DC Comics nowadays (save in the Flash recently with its “Dark Crisis tie-in”. What we had there was absolute GOLD).

I love me Batman having Batdad shenanigans over Tim/Cass and the rebellious Conner clashing with him. I know some might not like Cass/Kon, but the dynamic between the two in this issue is GOOD. The dynamic is SOOO good between the two. It's truly a pity Cass wasn't allowed to show up outside her book in Kon's again. Because this issue still hits home for a lot of folks to this day (as we see TONS of fanart of them. Also for canon covers still acknowledge this issue, along with the “eh” one over in Batgirl Vol. 1).

But for me, it's just the emotion both light and dark that writer Joe Kelly just handles well here. Why I keep coming back to this darn issue. The character dynamics are just soooo good.

Honorable Mention #4 Batgirl Vol. 1 #50 "Tough Love"

- It's Cass vs. Batman. The fight by Rich Leonardi is an epic one with Bruce/Cass going all Anakin/Obi-Wan by just changing the fighting venue every page. Looking for that opening.

You have some nice gremlin moment from Tim to get a cure to them both (given they're "fighting" due to a drug thrown at them by Dr. Death). If anything there's to knock on this is Nightwing being tossed around like a ragdoll by the two of them.

But really it's the ending of the fight that still resonates hard. Bruce being his most batdad again, but also just wanting to know where Cass's loyalties lie. Her answer is a good moment

So wait this is an honorable mention now?! Yeah it kind of is. See, the one problem with writer Dylan Horrocks is that usually bits of his run ages like milk. Not very good. I get that he tried new things with the character, and went in different direction than the past writers. But.. his stuff ages the worst.

Also listening to Batgirl to Oracle’s podcast when she reviewed the issue. She brings up some the things we often overlook for the amazing art and the stuff above.

Basically, the whole subtextual issue between Bruce/Cass that’s at the core of the story. Horrocks’ coda for his series up to this point was Cass growing older and trying to answer if she’s attracted to men (or now realizing how certain males view her via her body reading abilities). Dealing with the complications of guys being into her (Black Wind, Superboy), Bruce being EXTREMELY overbearing (hence the fight), and you get stuff like this:

It’s stuff that Freud and any fan in the present going 😬😬😬😬

Yeah, this is the stuff that doesn’t age well at all. Why suddenly it’s been knocked down this low.

So with these four out of the way. ONTO THE LIST...

10.) Batgirl Vol. 1 #2

- To those critics against Cass who say she never loses. This issue is the textbook answer. She loses and hard, but learns an emotional lesson about why words mean so much. Why writing and art are so powerful in a tale with no real title (literally the credits are at the very bottom of the last page).

This story is a gut punch (the first of many) Kelley Puckett would deliver on the book. Though he did slide in a better one later on this list still, this would be stable for his and Damion Scott's run.

Besides the pathos Puckett brings, Scott equally just wraps an emotional ringer. Cass barely says anything in the issue but conveys SOOO much emotion in her eyes thru the mask (probably the biggest answer many on the “pro-black lenses can give over the white ones she currently has”).

Just the one-shot character of John Robinson just sticks with you even after it. Just a good man, being thrown the curveball that Gotham City gives. The impact of his story just still resonates with me.

9.) Batgirls #14 “The Rest is Silence...”

- Yup. It’s a 2023 entry. I told you something made me start to question things and this story (while not concluded) I’m putting here on the list just for the sheer performance artist Jonathan Case pulls with this issue.

We’ve all wanted a unique Cass story (and boy howdy did we get some bangers in 2021 more on those later) and this is the first Batgirls story that feels true to the character of Cass. Anyone who is a harsh critic of this book has nothing to complain about. The narration (that’s not Cass/Steph/Babs) that can dull the comic’s better moments. It’s not found here. An older teen Cass is drawn here (not a preteen one that many have hated). Plus the dialogue by the writers Becky Cloonan and Michael Conrad. That’s not here, but they do cheat (but it’s a cheat I’m going to allow).

Again, this is Jonathan Case’s world and we’re living in the gorgeous art he’s doing here. There are SEVERAL pages that are just awing to read and look at. Just so much

If there’s any negative well... this is new. So I figure this is the best place to put this issue. Will it remain (as there are two more issues of this arc in Batgirls)? Who knows. But right at THIS MOMENT and this issue alone. It earns a spot on my list.

8.) Batgirl Vol.1 #60-62 aka "The Hood" arc

- What I love about this story are two reasons. #1 Cass by herself while trying to navigate the city of Bludhaven by establishing herself (with no Bruce or Babs). #2 Cass fighting unique foes with unique skill sets i.e. the Brotherhood of Evil.

From them just handing Cass her butt, to her rising back up and kicking them. It's a nice little "underdog" story showing just how far Cass has come as a fighter along with showcasing her "Batman' side. By doing her homework, prep timing, and wrecking the Brotherhood.

This is probably my favorite complete arc by Gabrych. He's got both Pop Mhan and Ale Garza backing him on the story and they all deliver high here.

Add the nice intro of Brenda and the gut punch of seeing Stephanie again (even if she died at the time period). This arc just has so many GOOD things that were promising. Pity, the later half Gabrych gave us wasn't classic as this was.

7.) DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration #1 "Sounds"

- Oh yes! We got a 2021 story here. Introduce Cass to new audiences? Showcase why fans enjoy her. Yes, it tempts me to put a certain arc of WFA up here. Here is one thing this has over that, Marcus To drawing Cass as Batgirl.

I always wanted it. To made the Black Bat costume better and gave us Ninja Gaiden Cass. But we all wanted him to draw THE costume.

I mean it's just everything. Add the small bits of actions we're given, bits of her origin, and the entire plot of Cass trying to find her "voice". Writer Mariko Tamaki just packs SOOO much in here and begins the call for many to have her write Cass more. This is the story where that all began. Tamaki just GETS Cass as a character.

Everything is just top-notch in this story. You can tell the entire creative team It's a nice reintroduction for new readers for Cass. Along with giving older fans well something we'd never thought to see again. 🥺

The story just feels unreal to see happen. After ALL DC did in the past with the character. This story hits, but not as harder as my #1.

6.) Batgirl Vol. 1 #7-9

- Now I'll admit looking over this list. I was like, "Wait why didn't I include #9 with this arc?" So it's time to correct that mistake!

There's no real "name" for this arc but it is just three stories that have the debut of a certain someone to the series. Cass's opposite. Her reflection. Lady Shiva.

Everything between these two is laid perfectly in "conflict" and for what is to come by Puckett and Scott. The 😮when Shiva shows up in the first panel and Cass is like, "I've got to fight that." he expressions. An appetizer for what is to come with these two.

Add the bookend pieces of #7 (of Batman/Shiva against Cass), along with just SOOOO much good lines by the two uttered in these issues. I mean there are some good quotes here. So many good scenes.

But again, this is a teaser for what's to come. What an amazing setup these three issues are.

5.) Batgirl Vol. 1 #19 "Nobody Dies Tonight!"

- Remember what I said earlier of Puckett/Scott delivering banger single issues? Here's another! On the anniversary of something near to Cass's mind, she tries to make sure for one night, nobody dies tonight!

Seeing the morality of the lesson played out here is more gut-wrenching than #2 given Cass is the focus here. She's doing her thing while the whole piece is her seeing someone being put to death tonight, and well her proclamation is tested hard.

Along with her mantra on everyone can change. You have all that, and the shadow of what is looming more and moreover her. The story is so good, to this day I ain't even gonna post it. This is one story you gotta track down and see for yourself.

Even if it is one more piece to a larger puzzle Puckett/Scott put to lead into #25.

4.) Batgirl Vol. 1 #21 (Last Laugh Tie-In)

- This is still my most favorite issue not shared by many of the Puckett/Scott run. It just goes to show you just how good this run is. There are SOOOOOOOOO many issues that can show up on a list for fav Cass stories. This is just mine.

Reasons why I enjoy this issue in particular among others is #1 the way it starts off with Cass's training montage which has Scott just go to town so much. You can tell Scott probably watched A TON of Bruce Lee movies as the homage is strong in the opening pages.

#2 Cass/Steph get a really important moment that furthers their friendship. I mean sure this isn't the issue they become really good friends, but this is the issue where the foundation keeps getting added (#20 started that).

Besides the moment at the end, there's the other moments of Steph's quirky persona that just win you over with the character.

#3 the fight between Shadow Thief/Cass. When you see Cass smiling in her mask if I were a villain, "running would be a very good idea." The moment is so shōnen and Scott just goes balls to the wall here with how he draws Cass dominating Thief.

This leads into #4 the outcome (but ties into #2). Like literally the fight switches in a heartbeat from 😁 to 😨in a single panel. Just seeing the look of broken horror in Cass's face realizing she might have taken another life makes my eyes water.

And here comes Steph to save the day. Dang, does she do some good friend stuff here. Just saving Shadow Thief and being there for Cass before the later scurries off.

3.) Batman: Urban Legends #7 "The Hunter... or the Hunted"

- A unique tale starring Cass by Guillaume Singelin takes Tec #955's concept of a long action sequence but goes harder. No dialogue or text. Just action. All action.

It's a real pity this story came way after the "Future State" event, as the story does a way better job showcasing how worse Gotham has become. There's a clear homage to so much in the story.

Singelin's art is something I haven't seen since Batgirl Vol. 1. Just the crispiness and layout of the fight sequences. The fact that this showcases why Cass is just a character quite unique. You can throw a writer/artist with a unique style. Just watch them go to town.

It's one of the things I always wished we could've seen with again Cass in Vol. 1. The closest we got was with Damion Scott in Solo #10, but it's just so wondrous to see Cass in a tale that feels like something that NEEDS to be animated again.

Every time I read this story there's just so much to just look at even if the story moves at a rapid pace from the action. It's just perfectly choreographed with Cass coming up on top.

2.) Batgirl Vol. 1 #25 "I Am Become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds"

- The crescendo of the Puckett/Scott run delivers so very much in this issue. From the literally EPIC brawl, Cass/Shiva have in this issue. To the little moments with Cass/Babs and Cass/jumper. This is the creative team as the seeds planted bear glorious fruit.

There's just so much about this issue that can be dissected and taken apart. Everyone is an all-star this issue as Scott is at the literal height of his art giving us (for me) the greatest comic book fight EVER.

From the set-up of the final round to the way, this is Puckett/Scott's opus. A slobber knocker. You feel the other's blow when it connects. Often imitated. NOTHING can ever top the OG brawl Cass/Shiva had in this issue. Nothing but one thing...

1.) Shadow of the Batgirl

- It's still the champ of my heart! Writer Sarah Kuhn takes all of what has happened with the character. Seen what worked and what didn't. Adds her own spin on what quite possibly is the best Cass story of them all.

From the very cover alone, before I opened the book this story hits a raw nerve for me. It opens an emotional flood gate.

Kuhn just crams so much of Cass stuff into this graphic novel it just is utterly amazing at how much she puts in here. She delivers so much that literally and hits so many things... dammit thinking about the graphic novel suddenly my eyes are watering... AGAIN.. wrassin frassin.

Adding to that is Nicole Goux's art which like Scott is so darn expressive and perfect for Cass. You don't need words when Goux perfectly captures what is going on in Cass and what Cass see's of the world around her.

I feel like a broken record on how much this story smacked me in the head. I was going to like it, but love it this much? Was like, "How?" But the emotion the creative team pours into this character you truly get how much they love Cass.

And this is the best intro story to get others interested in the character. Like literally, there are so many dang moments in this comic that are just SOOOOOOO good. And dangit thinking of these moments... freaking heck. Like literally..

.. when the comic hit me across the head with just so much emotion and I've read it numerous times over already. The fact that it is still doing this to me. Yeah, it had to be my #1.

So there's my list. Yes, I know I left out some choices that are like, "WHY?" But this is my personal list. The thing about it is-- IT ALWAYS CHANGES! So do you agree or disagree? What’s your favorite Cass stories? I’d love to hear them!

#cassandra cain #dc comics #top lists

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godslush · 3 months

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Hello again! hope your well! So I think I get the premise of this but correct me if I’m wrong so In your comic sunstar doesn’t technically exist therefore if he were to develop a soul like the other stardroids it would be a whole other issue of “being that never existed develops an existence?”(or something similar? I’m not sure sorry ;-;) and figuring that whole situation out (I’m guessing the stardroids have to do that [like babysitting? Kind off??? I dunno]

And in “escape the temple” Sunstar being freed and becoming complacent with his status as a god has the stardroids(terra in particular) having to keep him out of trouble especially with the traps made for the sungod lines. It honestly makes me think of like those child leashes except Sungod size ( that made me laugh a little with sunstar just wondering off and whoever’s holding the leash getting dragged along{however unlikely that he would let himself be made to wear that I just thought it was funny}). I’ll be completely honest with you I live reading oc info pages and seeing art and stories/ storylines for them just gets me excited! I tell you I read through your entire oc list before I got to the comics cause I just love reading them helps get the brain cells moving for ideas lol. Especially cause of how interesting and well written they were! Just really gets me engaged and interested in the stories :) honestly thank you for answering my asks ;o; especially cause your not as active on here as on twitter and this is my only way of really asking ;-;. I hope you’re doing well and I hope you have a good rest of your day/night! Thank you!

Hey there! Since these are getting long and a little specific, I’ll put it behind a cut, though I may opt to shift these to private answers if they start getting too spoily or personal.

---

The Stardroid comic is a “years later” followup on Gigamix, so I’m somewhat beholden to what Ariga-sensei has revealed, whether it be on TwiX or in lore-dumps like the Maniax books. Thankfully, he’s also VERY much a proponent of fans coming up with their own stories and headcanons (as mentioned when asked about hairstyles; since fans will frequently take his opinions and designs over the canon ones even when he’s not working in an officially-moderated capacity, and he doesn’t want to cause a rift with Capcom’s control over their own franchise and his own chances to work with them in the future).

That said, there isn’t MUCH 'canon' information on the Gigamix Stardroids, even in Maniax, with the bulk of it being focused on Terra and Mercury... but out of my own preferences, I’d still like to keep what’s available intact, and build off that, even if I end up building a LOT. In Sunstar’s case, he’s not even a robot, just a conglomerate of destructive energy and negative emotion. So trying to work with that and give HIM closure was rough. First, he needs a body and a soul...

Once he gets those, it's a bit rough on the Stardroids, too, but at the end of the day gets resolved by them (and a critical third party) realizing that what they understood of him was incomplete, and trying to figure out how to fix that...

---

Escape the Old Temple, in contrast, is technically built off the games (since it’s designed to be a game, itself), but presents a branch where Sunstar didn’t actually die at the end of World 5/V, merely faking his death and then masking the presence of himself and the other Stardroids (also miraculously surviving) so that they could rebuild at the edge of the solar system without further human intervention. The only reason Rock was able to defeat him in the first place was because he had just awoken from a who-knows-how-long slumber, and was essentially still booting up. Once at full power, he’s beyond pretty much anything human technology could throw at him in their current state.

He simply steps in when a ‘relic’ of the Stardroid’s ancient past (in the form of Antares’ trap-filled temple/tomb) shows up. On one hand, if Antares is still active, it could pose a threat to Earth. On the other, if someone like Wily decides to meddle, he could gain access to technology that could negatively impact what chances Earth has at a continued ‘peaceful’ existence. Rock proved that peace was possible, and Sunstar wants to do his part; whether or not the other Stardroids agree is another issue entirely, but their own stability is also threatened by the temple’s presence, so they might as well be the first line of defense (plus, they’d know what to do with the technology they loot, unlike some wacky mad human scientist).

Sun isn’t so much running off on his own, but when the others fail to return from scouting the temple, he and Terra dispatch themselves to get them back and end the threat personally. Sun’s approach to it is just... a little more haphazard and forceful (and frustrating for Terra). It’s less of a child-leash issue... but I will be honest, the mental image of that is hilarious and pretty much on-point. It’s definitely how Terra feels at times!

---

And thank you so much for the kind words on the OCs-! But it... doesn’t really change my feeling on the verge of giving up (likely temporary, but no less debilitating)...

Mental Health Dump ahead, feel free to skip, but it’s the gist of things as they stand:

My biggest success with the [REDACTED] fandom pretty much set me up for unfair expectations on engagement, and ever since the thing that made me fall out of that fandom (which involved getting into official development, only to have my soul crushed and disregarded and left to rot under an NDA until it was too late to salvage my emotional state, causing me to lose many friends and all of my self-worth), I’ve suffered from intense RSD. That - plus a constant stream of working myself to burn-out for little to no engagement - has made me more or less a wreck, who can’t maintain reasonable creative function without sufficient external positive reinforcement to keep up my energy. However, because of my past expectations and relative success when it comes to OC engagement, the threshold for what’s considered ‘sufficient’ reinforcement is a lot higher than most people, and not reaching it causes me to sink lower and lower each time I ‘fail’.

Couple that with my bad track record for being stuck in jobs I hate IRL, and you’ve got a recipe for frequent meltdowns.

I know I should be getting help/therapy for this, but attempts to do so have ranged from getting simply brushed aside put on meds that make matters worse, to literally being told by a mental health screener that there’s nothing wrong with me and that my ‘problems’ are all because I’m a woman and my hormones are making me miserable (I’m not joking).

I was able to get decent headway into the Mega Man fandom as an escape born of trying to return to my roots, but I also had, at the time, just gotten a job I actually loved, and seemed stable and fulfilling and it gave me life and energy and enough free time to actually dedicate to larger projects (like the comic).

...And then the boss of that job started loading most of his management work on me (while keeping my title as 'sales associate' so the experience wouldn't reflect for future job hunting/unemployment), before betraying me and throwing the company away to pursue gambling and crypto (presumably, due to his suspicious lack of communication when asked for details), which landed me back in Corporate Retail Hell, which is where I currently reside, living alone amidst rapidly increasing rent, utilities, and general cost of living.

I am once again reliant on engagement... engagement I’m just not getting because the Tumblr environment has changed since the [REDACTED] days to dissuade comments/replies/asks, and the TwiX environment has changed to be so painfully algorithm-dependent that I can barely get scraps.

To be honest, I’m not ‘more active’ on TwiX anymore... and if anything, I’m on my way out there, too, due to the way Stinky ruined everything and made the environment hostile and unstable. But I can’t shift my weight fully to Tumblr, either, because I don’t trust it to not eventually fall into the [REDACTED] trap of people only approaching me hoping I’ll be their friend so that they can get free art out of me (and a few people have already thrown up the red flags of that behavior, making me even more on-guard).

I also get the feeling that this is a community that prioritizes giving the time of day to people actively mingling with all the other creators; I can’t get away with what I did at the height of my drive, where I’d create characters and people would stop by and enjoy them with me. What little energy I have either goes to creating, or to maintenance, and unless I’ve got a reasonable stream of incoming energy to spend, I can’t feasibly mingle the way people seem to expect. It’s too big a space to spread myself so thin.

When I started my comic, I lived in a hole under a rock. The world I knew was small, and a small amount of engagement was enough. Then I stepped out from that safety and into the fandom and saw how large and expansive it really is, and how insignificant I am, and how effortlessly other people doing similar things to me can get all the validation in the world from 5-minute white-background line doodles of their own OCs, while I struggle to get full pieces recognized... and I’ve more or less become overwhelmed by a combination of fandom agoraphobia and personal futility.

If I can make something that looks okay in one go with minimal frustration, I might post it... but seeing how little that gets me unless it involves "popular fav" canon characters means that if I hit any snags in a larger project with original components, ANY frustration at all, I’m more likely to simply stop, out of fear that the energy spent to leap the hurdles won’t be recouped by the final product.

That's why the one Ask still sitting in the Remes box hasn't been answered; I wanted to precede answering it with a larger story (albeit an unrelated one, but I wanted to get that story into people's heads going forward), but hitting snags in that story and realizing I'd most likely post it and get 6 notes total made me just... not feel like it'd be worth it.

I thank you for your kind words, I truly do... but right now I am just one failure too far over the line to be anything more than an eyesore and a liability until I recoup...

#ask answer #onyxgladiolus #cw mental health #cw depression

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blorbocedes · 2 years

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Usually as I find more and more unflattering lore about my blorbos it cures my obsession but for some reason w/ Nico it just makes me even more intrigued. It's not even always apologia lol sometimes I just think "thats horrible" with no "but it's ok". Also by the way I've noticed you're very keen on Max (and I'm not) so I'm eager to see if you can convince me of that too (as you did with brocedes)

this is a really interesting ask! one thing about me is I'm for haters rights. I'm a hater myself, and sports needs antagonist to your protags -- it's simply more fun, and I'm here to have fun. I've got people here who hate macks, lewis, lando; and that's fine by me. you like who you like. if you hate Nico it'll probably be a bit awkward but yeah lol... I'm going to essay because you've caught me in a Mood so buckle in

I'm not necessarily in the business on converting people either... I think people are just attracted to other passionate people... the love for a blorbo is infectious. i follow so many DR girlies that he's like a son-in-law to me. so this won't be me converting me but in true max fashion I will be maxplaining my thoughts that no one asked for while you're stuck captive 😈

onto unpleasant lore. there is simply no one with a perfect, unblemished history. Nico's greenwashing, privileged, tone deaf, not even gonna Touch the 💉, a little bit manipulative girlboss slay. even the very best of the grid are ultimately filthy rich, sportswashing, and hypocritical -- esp if they're climate activists. none of our blorbos are immune

i think it also helps with Nico that he's retired, beyond talking shit he doesn't actually pose a threat to your blorbo on the grid. Max is the world champion so he's everyone on the grid's pain in the ass rn. I think there's a lot of fair reasons to hate max, and then there's a lot of unfair reasons that's more popular narrative. how I got into Nico was I saw a bunch of people on twitter hating him and I was like lol who's This guy 😂🤣 let me learn more about him so I'm an Informed hater🤓 and then... well 🥴

if you don't like macks, that's okay! you don't even need a "valid" reason. i wanna punch Lance Stroll in the face, I don't have a reason for it. we don't choose our blorbos.

why I enjoy max is cause

a) sick racer. seriously, generational talent. there's this idea that he's some super unsafe crash happy driver but that's really not true, and that narrative is from 2016 -- when he was a wee baby 17 year old. Imagine you're defined by how you were at 17 🫥 I would die. we are watching history in the making: and we'll be seeing him on the grid for many more years inshallah. sexy ass racing... and no it's not cause he's got the best car. i think just how much fun he had wheel to wheel racing with a broken car against Mick in France showed that. this dude just loves racing the way you and I will never love anything

b) he's just Some Guy.

there's a lot of narratives about how evil he is.... but my understanding of him is a dude who doesn't care to play along with the PR optics of a situation. He's blunt, he's honest -- it can be off putting to some, but I find it really refreshing. if you ask him if he's scared of Marc's straight line speed, he'll just say no. yes king give me nothing!! he is the ultimate what you're seeing is what you're getting. he's simply max :)

what I love about him is his innate self belief. he had a dad who projected all his failed ambitions on him, and the post linked by bella does a good job of explaining the parental abuse. I also speak about it here. fandom ofc cannot handle a topic that nuanced, which leads to the worst fucking takes of all time. max is not defined by his abuse, rather time and again he's shown how much so much more, so full of love. he was practically groomed to be a racer, but he's so much more than the weight of the expectations put on him since childhood. there's this interview of baby teen max asking if he thinks he'll be a better racer than his dad and he just says "I am." you need to have that kind of faith in yourself, and prove it!!!!!!!

his whole circle is friends from years back, his mom and his sister, and his gf/her kid. he's literally 24, rich, successful he can have or do anything he wants, and he just likes chilling with his family and playing the sim 🥺 a family dude through and through

beyond that, he's truly just Some Dude. he's got a dry sarcastic sense of humour, has mommy issues, likes to be in the arms of other stronger men, he comes across as a dude with a decent head on his shoulders. yes he bitches in the car and swears a lot and breaks his DRS button pressing it 50 times, and then goes to say he thinks he's pretty calm lolol I love unreliable narrators. it also says a lot that most of the grid likes him, Daniel, Fernando, Lando, Carlos, Charl, he's capable of being a normal dude off the track who isn't untouchable.

C) tits and thighs

before I got into f1, I saw this black and white video of max from Abu Dhabi celebrations, drunk as shit, in some dude's arms singing "we are the champions" I knew NOTHING about him beyond he just became the world champion of ??? something, and he seems so, so happy. and for me that's all it took. that's my golden shoe boy.

I think he's simply lovely :)

#the max verstappen essay #the Some Guy ness of max verstappen has bewitched my mind and soul #if you hate him that's fine I simply ask to be informed in your hating #max verstappen #blorbocedes ask #this isn't even all my max thoughts or even half of it #but I had to stop somewhere cause it was getting ridic and nobody signed up to read an MLA essay #reader I love him

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popopretty · 7 months

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Hello there. I hope this message won't be so out there to you, but if anything, please feel free to just ignore it!

I'm a new fan of piko, as new as...2023, since I discovered him through his recent participation in a fantasy band called Sound Horizon (he didn't advertise it much on his twitter, but I'm sure you could notice he shared fanart of his character from the album).

I was absolutely smitten by his strong, versatile and magnetic voice. And after watching some of his old lives, as well as the recent stream on twistcast, I admire him even more for...how to put it...he seems like someone who genuinely enjoy singing. I mean, of course he's a singer, but the energy that shines through from someone who's living their passion is something unique and hard to come by. Then I discovered your blog, which I truly feel grateful for along with all other piko fanblogs on tumblr. I learned about his health condition and the recent hiatus in 2019. The story is heart-wrenching, but at the same time I feel truly inspired to embrace hope, and want to watch after his future activities.

I write you this just to share a piece of love, and to express my thanks for all the translation and other content you shared on this blog :) Have a great day!

Hiiiii!

Omg u don’t know how happy I am to find a new Piko fan haha. I’m glad to know u found him through the Sound Horizon project. I do not post that much about him these days but I’m still following everything he does and goes to his concerts quite often, u can actually find me in most of his concert photos 😂

Tbh I have followed him for too long so while I still adore his voice so much (that’s what I fell for from the beginning and I guess I will fall for it over and over again), he has become very dear to me, like a family member and I just wish he could be happy in whatever he does :3 As u said, he is very passionate about what he is doing and is also a very honest and hard-working person. If u see him in concerts he is super energetic and his cheerfulness brings a smile on everyone’s face. His fandom in Japan is small but they are the kindest people I know!! So, welcome to the fandom 🥹 Your message lightens up my day. If u have any question just let me know at any time 🥹

Have a lovely day!

#piko #ask

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achilleanfemme · 10 months

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Resisting DSA's Culture of Disposability to Win the World we Deserve.

It’s National Convention season in the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), the time when every caucus with 20 members and a twitter account pulls out the knives and the slander to win over the majority of delegates at the National Convention to their positions... only to have them promptly ignored. Accusations of bullying, harassment, targeted destruction of caucus literature are par-for-the-course if you want to be given the blessing of joining DSA’s National Political Committee (NPC) and have half the organization immediately hate you.

Obviously, I am being hyperbolic, but a nugget of truth resides here: DSA has an organizational culture problem. Many of our members enter into a democratically-run, working-class political organization for the first time when they join DSA, and when they do, they bring the trappings of our oppressive, exploitative, and hyper-individualistic capitalist society with them. We come to DSA with our axes-of-oppression and axes-of-privilege along with us: those of gender, race, class, disability, neurotype, sexuality, nationality, language, etc. We come to DSA with our past wounds and the harms that we ourselves have carried out, knowingly or unknowingly. Democracy is always hard because building and exercising collective power requires trusting others. The vast majority of people who come to the Left come to our side battered, belittled, and betrayed by our imperialist-white supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy and how it manifests in our day-to-day lives and interactions. Therefore, when we are wounded by someone, or someone’s, inside of our organization, we respond to that harm in the same ways that we are taught to respond to that harm in our dominant culture—in ways that dehumanize, violate, punish, belittle, shame, harm, and cage. This organizational culture of disposability cannot stand if we want our organization to persist, grow, and win.

I have been involved in my fair share of conflicts since I joined DSA in January 2017. Freshly 20 years old and full of revolutionary fervor, I was a queer kid who’d spent the better part of the previous 5 years being abused by adults in my community and my family-of-origin for being honest about who I was. I had no idea how the legacy of those very fresh inflictions of pain and isolation would manifest in my body-mind and in my relationships. Zero. I did not grow up in a home environment that encouraged emotional maturity and productive conflict. So, I did the best I could to cope and hurt a few people along the way, in my personal and organizational life. I have over-reacted and called people out on Twitter. I have gossiped about minor disagreements instead of approaching my comrade directly. I have guarded my heart from the pain of losing a difficult political fight by pointing fingers at the people organizing closest to me. I am sure that many of you have done similar things. These antisocial behaviors have never gotten me any closer to what I have ultimately wanted, which is personal healing, genuine connection, and the joy that comes from solidarity and collective action. They have lost me more than a few close relationships. They have soured promising organizing efforts. They have made me feel helpless and alone.

I have also experienced harm at the hands of people in DSA, sometimes immense harm that has lost me jobs, caused me mental anguish, and encouraged the darkest whispers in the back of my mind to grow louder. I am sure a lot of people in the organization have experienced these things too, and it sucks. I am sorry. There is no excuse. You deserved better and more. I deserved better and more, too. Ultimately, as I have moved between moments of movement activity and moments of personal rest, healing, and growth over my years in DSA, I have come to the conclusion that I am in this fight for the rest of my life. I am not, however, comfortable resigning myself to an organizational reality that our commitment to abolitionist principles of solidarity, anti-carcerality, universal dignity, and reciprocal care simply stops inside our general meetings, slack channels, signal groups, and comrade-to-comrade relationships.

Practically this means that mandatory censure, suspensions, and organizational expulsions (including de facto expulsions), cannot be entered into without democratic oversight and under the most extreme circumstances of harm. It means that when you sign-up to join DSA that you are committing yourself to practicing transformative justice and swear to respect the rights and dignity of every person in the organization, including those you do not personally like or politically disagree with, as long as they are willing to do the same. It means committing to the work of processing your own pain and refusing to project your past onto others. It means swallowing your ego and admitting when you are wrong or you have made a mistake. It means that when you inevitably fall short of these principles, that you agree to doing the hard thing, having the tough conversations, attending the restorative circle, learning about the importance of believing that none of your comrades are disposable, and committing yourself to furthering the work of solidarity and liberation. If all of us do not do this, if we give in to the forces (state-sanctioned, societal, and personal) that seek to pit us against one another and tear our organization down (as has happened many times before on the Left in the USA and abroad) then we lose.

Today, I invite you to lay down old grievances, dust out your mental cupboards of resentment, and recommit yourself to the work of reciprocal care, of loving your comrades more than you love being right, of embracing the blessing that is leaving that message or email in your drafts until you’ve had more time to reflect, of solidarity and liberation. We have a world to win after all. ------------------------------

Much of this essay was inspired by the work and words of the amazing folks who created or participated in the following pieces of media, please support them!

https://truthout.org/audio/to-transform-conflict-in-movements-we-must-learn-how-to-stay-in-it-together/

https://www.haymarketbooks.org/books/1922-let-this-radicalize-you

https://www.amazon.com/Break-Every-Yoke-Religion-Abolition/dp/0190949155

https://www.haymarketbooks.org/books/1108-how-we-get-free

https://www.amazon.com/Abolition-Feminism-Now-Abolitionist-Papers/dp/1642592587/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1686951405&sr=1-1

#DSA #Democratic Socialist #democratic socialists of america #socialism #abolition #care #mental health #collective action #solidarity #queer #leftist #left politics

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kittenbased · 1 year

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Call this a Sim Haesung appreciation post, a love letter for JunxHaesung a ship I freakingly adore, a poor (self-projecting) character analysis or simply just a stream of consciousness too loud to be put in gif and tag form when you accidentally let yourself invest a little too much in a kdrama you were supposed to casually enjoy and move on.

And this wall of text is what happens when you feel like you might never totally move on, like you’ve been left alone to deal with these overwhelming emotions after all the fun and angst were gone, like finally your favorite characters and your ship got the ending they deserve and that you’ve hoped for them since day 1 but at the same time you are no longer able to watch more of them, like suddenly you realize you are Yoon Jun when Sim siblings moved out - only too bad you don’t have a Haesung to sometimes go eat together, walk home with and propose to.

These feelings are too much and too personal to translate into gif language so in this essay I will...

Sim Hae Sung, I fell in love with her right at the moment she was first introduced. There were no significant reasons, only because I'm always weak for eldest daughters in kdramas, especially those who are written (and often taken at face value) as some selfish irresponsible airhead girlies giving no shit about their family's business. Something about the big sisters refusing/ignoring roles that they are supposed to take on just because they were born first is so enraging to some and fascinating to others. I'm the latter. I myself am a (horrible) eldest daughter too, so sorry I can't help but relate. And that's it, that's probably the only trait I find relatable about Haesung. Sometimes we don’t need to relate much to like a character and as ~ cliché ~ as it gets, I love Haesung because she's so different from me.

Now let’s talk about a character I relate to the most: Yoon Jun - the black sheep of the family, a background-ish friend to his ever troublemaking Sim siblings, a land owner with a house too big and too quiet for his own, an introvert who can’t stand small talks with strangers and hates being uncomfortable but wants to live as rowdy a life as possible, a helper and comforter but never lets anyone know about his issues enough to comfort him, a supposed to be normal, calm and rational one in this unusual revenge melo whatsoever drama.

It’s also easier (for me) to relate to Jun because if there’s a character that represents some objective third party kind of view in this show it’s definitely him. Confused, irritated, annoyed, lonely, helpless, surprised, dumbfounded, lonely again (x3), guilty, lonely x1000... then healed and finally at peace. To be honest, I did not realize that I reacted to most of happenings in this show through Jun’s pov until much later. I read someone on twitter said that the watching experience would be totally different depending on which Sim siblings’ povs you chose to start with. It’s such an obvious statement and still it hit me quite hard. Because if I chose none? Like I actually had to sit down and ponder for a moment. And it all came clear to me. I realized why I adore Haesung, care so much about her, hurt for her and want nothing but the best for her. Because I've watched it all through Jun’s eyes and felt along with him, that’s why and that’s crazy. (It might be self-projecting to some extent but who consumes medias without a single shot of self-projecting let’s be real.)

She brings comfort, the old kind of comfort that you treasure because you know it’s hard-earned from the privilege of being close and understanding for years. She might be annoying to be around sometimes but her absence might be even much more annoying. She is an embarrassing mess that often speaks things and does thing she should not, but you also would get hurt seeing her embarrassed or getting ridiculed. She acted on her emotions, gives out her feelings too quick and too loud, which you think is crazy and would never do until one day it you have to face that if you wouldn’t the only emotion you are left with is the loneliness that you always fear. She puts you at ease, being with her you feel safe and comfortable enough to talk about heavy stuffs you hide from everyone else, then by her own way of comforting, often some light-hearted silly jokes, she makes you smile. She lets you be the kid you couldn’t be at your own home, the younger and softer self you find it hard to be even with/especially with your best friend. And you start to see what she rarely shows/others fail to notice, her pains, her burdens, the mature sides of her, the way she’s too been on survival mode for too long it broke her inside.

She is so many things that you already knew, thought you already knew, and still you want to know more, embrace more.

And naturally comes the romance. So cozy and comforting. So simple yet no less significant.

I randomly came across a post about the opposite site of friends to lovers tropes here on tumblr, it goes like this:

At first I thought hmm interesting I would love to see more of that. But the inner JunxHaesung in me jumped out and I remain a sucker for friends to lovers trope (ofc when done right!). Just like Jun, I prefer the comfortableness of long time knowing and understanding. I also think friends to lovers, in Jun and Haesung case, is more than just complicated history, overlaps and whatnot. It’s more about unlearn and relearn in order to rewrite their history. In that process, they definitely make as much effort as anyone from any kind of tropes to know more about each other on purpose. And that... that’s beautiful to me. That’s also why, to me, the sweetest scene of this little ship might not be the love confession but this one:

#kdrama: call it love #yoon jun x hae sung #aight imma head out #that's too much sharing for the day #i swear will never be able to move on #maybe the toxic relationship is the one i have with this show #help #call it love #sung joon #kim ye won

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johaerys-writes · 2 years

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you’re a walking disaster, and yet—

—I’d follow in your wake.

Achilles/Patroclus | 3600 words | M

My entry for Day 2: “Growing up together” of @patrochillesweek 2022! The first chapter of a series of oneshots which will follow Achilles and Patroclus as they grow up and fall in love. Modern AU. Read here or on AO3!

Chapter 1: Dawn Chorus

The Pelides’ house is big. Very big.

It is the biggest place Patroclus has been in, and his home back in Opus wasn’t small by any means. It is old, too, one of those stone-brick mansions with thick vines climbing up the trellises on the walls, with terracotta slates on the roofs and gleaming marble arches on the balconies. One of those buildings that have been handed down to generation after generation of great men with power and influence and heavy-ringing names to go along with it.

Mr Pelides himself — Call me Peleus, he’d said with an easy smile when he’d come to pick Patroclus up— seems like a great man, one of those his father used at once to envy and to want to ingratiate himself with. He’s tall and broad and he wears his button down shirts open to his chest, and his pearl white teeth look even whiter against his leathery-gold tan. He drives a convertible and smells like cigars and calls Patroclus ‘lad’ instead of ‘boy’ like his father did. When they’d pulled up the long driveway, and Patroclus’ single suitcase had been hauled out of the trunk, Mr Pelides had clapped him on the shoulder and said, Make yourself at home, lad.

It’s been two days. Patroclus has yet to figure out how to do that.

It’s not that it isn’t nice there. His room is nice. It isn’t very big —probably one of the old guest rooms— but the bed is comfortable enough and his window has a view of the lemon trees in the garden. It’s spring, and the swallows have built their nests underneath the awning of the old shed. Their incessant twittering woke Patroclus up at dawn the day before, and then again that morning. He doesn’t mind it. He actually likes how merry they sound. And it's not like he's been getting much sleep anyway. Not since he left home.

Well. This is home now. Unless things change again. In the last month Patroclus has changed places thrice: his uncle, who didn’t speak to him, his eldest daughter in the city, who had no room for him, and then, at last, Mr Pelides.

Patroclus isn’t quite sure how long he’ll get to stay here either, if he's being honest with himself. His suitcase is half open by the side of the bed, his few belongings barely touched. Every morning, he expects Mr Pelides to come into his room and tell him to gather his things again and go down to the car — “Just a quick ride, not to worry”— and then who knows where he'll end up. There’s nowhere else for him to go, really. There’s no one, really, who wants him.

Patroclus lies on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his breath pooling heavy in his lungs like lead. It is paralysing, this feeling. Outside, it’s not yet morning, probably hours still until then, but Patroclus is scared to go back to sleep. Scattered thoughts crowd his mind. If he falls through them, he may never come back out.

He tosses the covers off him. The wood is cool under his feet when he gets up. Patroclus pads to the door, cracks it open just a hair. The hall is dark and empty, like a walnut shell with all its insides scooped out. He goes out, as quiet as a mouse, and walks along the stretch of worn carpet. In the twilight, Patroclus does all the exploring he isn't brave enough to do during the day. He drifts through the long corridors, and even tries opening a couple doors that seem interesting enough. The rooms beyond are either empty or with their furniture covered with old white sheets and the curtains drawn. They stare back at him, grey and silent.

He still doesn’t know his way around the big house very well, but that's okay. There's no one up at this time, to stop him or scold him. Patroclus walks past the grandiose dining room with the large painting of a still life above the mantelpiece, turns left when he reaches the corridor that connects it to the kitchen.

He stops when he sees light pooling on the floor, through the kitchen door that has been left ajar.

There are faint noises coming from inside. The chink of cutlery and quiet breathing. Patroclus peeks shyly through the doorway. His eyes fall on a blonde head; it’s the first thing he sees, the colour shockingly bright in the otherwise beige and dreary space. He’s perched on the kitchen island, eating scoop after scoop of peanut butter straight out of the jar.

You'll meet my son, Achilles, soon, Mr Pelides had told Patroclus on their drive there. You two will hit it off just fine. He's as wild as they come, though. The indulgent pride with which he'd said the words had made them sound almost like a compliment. Don’t let him talk you into anything.

Patroclus had blushed as he swore that he would absolutely not do that. No sir. He knows better than that.

Looking at him now, he doesn't know if he does, actually. He had imagined someone tall, strong, fierce. He had pictured him like the boys back in Opus, his older schoolmates that Patroclus had always been afraid of. But Achilles… he's different. Patroclus doesn’t think he’s ever seen a boy wear his hair so long, like a girl. He’s short, too, and slender, and looks younger than Patroclus, a year perhaps or two. His cheeks are still plump with boyhood, and his long eyelashes caress his cheekbones like feathers.

Is this the wildling that Mr Pelides mentioned? A more angelic face Patroclus would be hard-pressed to find.

Achilles glances up, and two impossibly green eyes fix Patroclus on the spot.

"Hello."

Patroclus freezes, half-hidden in the shadows of the doorway. His breath is frozen too; only his heart lurches, lodging in his throat.

“You’re Patroclus, right?” Achilles hops off the counter, walking up to him. Patroclus’ first instinct is to take a tiny step back, ready to flee, but the other boy advances on him without breaking stride. “My father told me about you. I thought he was joking. I didn’t even see you anywhere."

“I was— in my room,” Patroclus blurts out, blushing to the roots of his hair. He feels as if he’s done something terribly wrong. He’s spent almost two days locked in there, fearing to go outside in case he did something wrong, in case he broke a vase or some priceless heirloom and Mr. Pelides got angry and sent him away too. But it seems that staying in his room was wrong, too. It’s like his father always used to say: Patroclus can’t do anything right.

Achilles idly scratches his cheek when the silence lengthens. Patroclus just stands there, staring and staring.

"Are you hungry?" Achilles asks. Without waiting for Patroclus' response, he dashes to the drying rack and picks up a spoon, then returns with it and the peanut butter jar in hand.

"Here," he says. "Dig in. It's good." He brings a generous spoonful of peanut butter to his lips for demonstration.

It seems rude to say no. Patroclus scoops a tiny bit of peanut butter, then reluctantly licks it from the spoon. It's thick. It coats his tongue like tar and sticks to the roof of his mouth. He makes a face before he can stop himself.

"What's wrong? Do you not like it?" Achilles asks.

Patroclus swallows with difficulty. "I… don't like peanut butter," he admits quietly.

"Oh." Achilles frowns as he licks his own spoon clean. "What do you like?"

"Nothing," Patroclus says hurriedly, "I'm not hungry." His stomach gives a quiet rumble, as if on cue. He was too nervous to eat anything the previous day, when Mr Pelides knocked on his door to invite him to dinner. He blushes further, sweat gathering at his temples.

"Tell you what." Achilles sets the jar and the spoon down. He does so carelessly, not even bothering to screw the lid back on. "The gas station's open all night. We'll go there, grab something to eat."

It isn't a suggestion; it's a declaration. Patroclus watches, speechless, as Achilles runs barefoot out of the room and returns with his shoes on, and a pair for Patroclus, then grabs Patroclus' hand and drags him out of the house as soon as he puts them on.

His bike is leaning against the porch bannister; Achilles kicks back the stand and sets it upright. Laika, the border collie mix that's far too friendly with strangers to be a guard dog, trots up to them, tongue lolling. She circles Patroclus' feet; he stops to scratch her behind the ear.

"Are you— really going out?" Patroclus asks, incredulous, as Achilles swings his leg over the bike. The stars are bright in the night sky. It must be four in the morning.

"We are," Achilles corrects. "Come, hop on."

"But- what about your father? Won't he be angry?"

"Not if he doesn't know." He grins at him over his shoulder. "You won't tell him, will you?"

No one should be so brazen in the face of certain death. At least, that's what Patroclus always feared would happen if he was caught disobeying his father. But his father isn't here, and, in any case, somehow Patroclus can't bring himself to care about what his father would or wouldn’t do when Achilles looks at him like this, in his jade-green eyes a flash of challenge.

Laika wags her tail and looks up at him with her big, wet eyes as Patroclus walks to the bike. He steps up on the rear axles and places his hands on Achilles' shoulders, his heart thumping wildly at the prospect of what he's about to do.

He is out, in the dead of night, without a grown up. He is breaking several rules at once, following a boy with fire-blonde hair that smiles far too brightly for his own good.

They set off, the two of them, into the night. The wind whistles past Patroclus' ears as they follow the winding, sun-bleached roads, now empty in the darkness. Their shadows stretch and flicker beneath the pale, dusty halos of the street lamps they ride past. Crickets sing, hidden in the undergrowth of sprawling clover fields.

Achilles pedals fast, but he's a smooth rider. It's clear he knows these roads like the back of his hand. His shoulders are tense with purpose, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The wind combs through his hair and brings it to Patroclus' face. It smells of pomegranate and almonds and a hint of sweat, and it's so soft when it brushes his cheek. Patroclus likes the way it smells. He likes the way it feels.

"Almost there," Achilles says.

Past the bend of the road, the gas station's bright in the distance, standing out against the backdrop of dark grassland. It looks like a ship in the middle of the sea. Patroclus imagines they're both sailors, the bike a dinghy, and Achilles sets the course that will get them to a safe harbour.

The harsh fluorescent light hurts Patroclus' eyes when they reach the gas station and get off the bike. The cashier behind the register is a bored sixteen year old that doesn't even look up from his phone as they walk in. Achilles heads straight for the freezers, ogling the multitudes of ice cream cones and ice pops behind the glass.

Patroclus looks at everything like an alien. In truth, he is. He’s been to gas stations before, but everything looks so bright and colourful now that it’s like he’s truly been living in space, in infra-red light that leeched every other shade. He drifts to one of the isles, examining the packets of crisps on the shelves. There’s one in particular that he likes, salt and oregano, but perhaps he could try something different tonight.

A slender arm reaches past his shoulder and grabs a packet.

“Try this one,” Achilles says. “It’s my favourite.”

His lips and tongue are bright blue from the blueberry flavoured ice pop he’s already opened and started devouring. Patroclus almost tells him in a panic that he shouldn’t be doing that, that he should pay for it first before eating it, but it completely slips his mind. He feels like he’s in a dream, like none of this is real. Like he could do anything. Nothing can hurt you in dreams, right?

So he cracks open the packet. The artificial sour cream and dill flavour hits his tongue when he brings a crisp to his mouth.

Achilles gives him a neon-blue grin. “Good, right?”

“Yeah,” Patroclus says. The crisps are overly salty and leave a greasy residue on his fingers. It’s the best thing Patroclus has had in— so long. He can’t remember the last time food didn’t taste like ash in his mouth.

Achilles grabs a few more packets, seemingly at random, and strides to the cash register. He appears so certain and confident with everything he does, like he knows exactly what he's doing. Patroclus feels strangely at ease with him.

“We’ll have all of these,” he tells the cashier, “oh, and also—” He glances at the pink and yellow slush swirling lazily in the machine behind the counter, “—two lemon slushies.”

“How are you going to pay for all this?” The boy eyes him up and down with a sneer. “Got any money on you?”

“Yeah, your mom's.”

Patroclus whips his head around to stare at him in shock.

The boy narrows his eyes. “What did you just say?”

Achilles simply looks at him, calm as an icy lake.

"The fuck did you say, Pelides."

"I said, your mom gives me money, because she likes me better than you."

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“Give us the slushies and we’ll go.”

“Want me to call your daddy to put you to bed?”

Achilles’ only reaction is to arch his eyebrow, slightly. “Want me to tell your daddy that you’ve been stealing from the cash register again, Aeneas?”

“For fuck’s sake, it was only one—” Aeneas stops himself, his face slightly red. He growls as he turns around and pours two lemon slushies in plastic cups. He slaps them down on the counter, frozen yellow liquid trickling down the sides. “There. Happy now?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Achilles smiles charmingly as he hands Patroclus the cups, then gathers the packets of crisps in his arms. “Good night! Don’t work too hard.”

“Fuck you.”

Patroclus stares at Achilles’ back as they walk out of the store. The door dings shut behind them, and Achilles’ dumps all the junk food they procured in the little basket at the front of the bike.

“Who… who was that?” he murmurs, walking beside Achilles as he slides the bike back onto the road. “A friend of yours?” He realises how stupid that sounds as soon as he says it. This was obviously not a friendly conversation.

“A guy from school,” Achilles says nonchalantly. “He’s older. We don’t hang out much. I don’t even like him, really. He’s a bit thick. In the head.” He leans forward, slurping the slushie from the cup Patroclus is holding. “But he makes nice slushies.”

“There’s not much to it. I’ve seen how they’re made; you just dump water and powder in the machine and it mixes it by itself.”

Achilles shrugs. “Dunno. He does it well, in any case. And it’s free, so! Who cares.” He gives Patroclus a conspiratorial grin, his eyes glowing in the half light with a feral gleam.

Patroclus gives him a wobbly smile of his own. He doesn’t really know what to do with this information. He can't even explain what he just witnessed. Nothing they’ve done so far feels real. It’s like the night is lawless, like they can do whatever they please without consequences. It’s intoxicating. It’s fun.

They munch on the crisps and drink the ice-cold slush, chatting idly as they walk down the empty road. Patroclus drinks his own too quickly and gets a brain freeze, while Achilles makes a game out of catching popcorn kernels with his mouth after tossing them up high. He throws one at Patroclus, and it bounces off the hollow of his eye. Another gets stuck in his hair, another one in his ear. Achilles laughs, but there’s no malice to it. It’s not like the boys back in Opus, who would crowd and shove Patroclus into corners and laugh at his hair, his clothes, his glasses. This time, Patroclus is included in the joke. It’s different.

Achilles doesn’t ask much. Patroclus likes that. They talk about the coat of paint Achilles gave his bike the summer before and the new gears his father installed that let him go extra fast. He shows him how to do cartwheels in the middle of the street. He climbs up a bus stop and tells Patroclus “Check this out!” before doing a backflip off the roof, before Patroclus even has the chance to warn him not to break his neck.

“I can jump from higher than this,” he tells Patroclus with a perfectly serious face after landing on his feet like a cat, while Patroclus stares at him, horrified.

Achilles seems… a tad insane.

He’s as wild as they come, Mr Pelides' words return to him. Don’t let him talk you into anything.

Actually, Patroclus thinks to himself, he wouldn’t mind following Achilles into anything. It thrills him, a little, to think that.

Dawn is close, just shy of breaking, when they reach the top of a steep incline. Achilles slides to a stop, eyeing the descend.

"Climb up," he says. Patroclus does. “Ready?”

“For what?” Patroclus asks. Achilles only smiles.

“Hold tight.”

Patroclus doesn’t have the chance to protest when Achilles sets his foot back on the pedal and rolls them forward. They’re so far up, Patroclus can barely see the bottom of the hill in the darkness. They swoop down together, gaining more speed by the second. Patroclus’ stomach drops, pulse thundering in his temples as the wind whooshes past them both. He holds onto Achilles’ shoulders for dear life.

“It’s too fast,” he shouts in his ear, and Achilles laughs. He laughs like he doesn’t care, and the sheer knowledge makes Patroclus’ pulse race quicker. They could get hurt. They could die, and he’s convinced Achilles would still be laughing, challenging death with a flat out stare.

The end comes sooner than Patroclus expected. They don’t see the rock that’s lying in the middle of the road until it’s too late; Achilles swerves to avoid it, but it only accelerates their disastrous fall. The wheel scrapes and screeches on the asphalt, and the bike is knocked out of Achilles’ control.

The next thing Patroclus knows, he’s flying off the backseat and crashing hard into the bushes by the side of the road. Achilles is quick to follow, rolling a few feet away from him.

First, is the shock. Then, the pain. It shoots up from Patroclus’ leg up his spine. He can’t see the injury in the dark, but he knows there’s blood. He can feel it soaking the fabric of his jeans, where they’re torn at the knee.

He hisses as he pushes himself up. The world spins around him. His elbow hurts too, where he knocked it in the ground during his fall. He stands with difficulty. Whatever wound he got, though, it’s superficial. Sheer luck, perhaps.

“Achilles?” he croaks. He limps towards the form that’s lying prone amidst the grasses. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

But Achilles doesn’t answer. He’s staring up at the grey-blue, pre-dawn sky with glassy eyes. He’s smiling, dazed.

Then, he laughs.

It’s a shy, husky sound at first, almost startled. Then, another wave rolls through him, and another, and another. It’s so free a sound, so wild, that Patroclus can’t help but join him. Soon, they’re laughing so hard there are tears in both of their eyes, the sound carrying through the wide open space. The breeze blows, and the tall grass bends, the dawn chorus slowly stirring the world awake, and there Patroclus is, covered in dirt and blood and breathless, staring at the boy who laughs when he falls.

Achilles sits up. His cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, and his eyes are bright with joy, crinkled at the corners. Patroclus gives him a hand and pulls him up.

“That was fun,” Achilles says.

“Yes. It was.”

There are knapweeds and tansies tangled in Achilles' straw-blonde hair. His white tee shirt is brown with dirt, and one of his trainers is missing. He’s smiling so hard, it splits his face from ear to ear.

Heavens, he’s so beautiful.

“Hey," Achilles says. His hand lands on Patroclus’ shoulder in a rough, friendly clap. "I like you.”

The words zing through Patroclus like electricity. His breath catches. “Um.”

“Let’s do it again.”

“What— now?”

“No time like the present.” Achilles goes to his bike and lifts it upright. “We have time for one more before my father gets up for work.”

Patroclus swallows thickly. The incline looms above them; they were lucky enough to survive it once. Will they be as fortunate the second time around?

Don’t let him talk you into anything.

But what if Patroclus wants him to?

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Achilles' lips curl; a cat’s smile. There’s respect in his gaze, Patroclus thinks, and a strange sort of pride. It makes the blood boil and fizzle in his veins. There isn’t much he wouldn’t do, he realises, to keep it directed at him.

Achilles takes a step back, nodding at the bike.

“You ride up front this time, then.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this please like and reblog, it really means a lot :)

#patrochilles #Patrochilles Week 2022 #tsoa #the song of achilles #achilles #patroclus #achilles/patroclus #patroclus/achilles #hades #hades game #the iliad #johaerys writes

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peppertaemint · 1 year

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I have a big Ask about becoming drained by the kpop life (Anon added a lol, btw). I thought I would put excerpts here and respond. The Anon is aiming this at all fandoms.

there seems to be this constant wave of complaints, entitlement and overreacting to every damn thing. Either it's a conspiracy and the company their fave group works at is trying to sabotage their faves or complaining that the company is over working their faves not taking into consideration what that artist is capable of being able to handle or discussions they may have had with their agency, overreacting that their fave isn't being treated equally, counting how many lines their fave gets, how much camera time, if their fave is sick or hurts their ankle, back, finger, leg, hand, arm, it's catastrophic and they act like it's RIP city and people are crying and talking about how scared they are, if two members get along and like to spend a lot of time together then that automatically means they're crushing on each other or in s secret relationship.

And:

The misogynists, the homophobics, the akgaes, the sexists, the ageists, the constant mobbing at the airports, the having fits about their faves dating or getting married and still plotting shit against those who dare live their lives just like everybody else on the planet deserves to do. All of it, I just don't want to see it. And as much as I have muted and unfollowed and blocked, the shit still gets through. I want to stay up to date on what my favorites are doing but I don't want to see the stupid shit. Those of you who have managed to not be exposed, mad props, but it hasn't worked for me. I need some advice because I am worn out by fans, not the kpop groups themselves

First, I don't believe the people who I see commenting and Ask-ing etc who say "wow I don't get how you see all this stuff wow I never see it." These people are either liars who want to make you feel crazy (gaslighters, lol) or they're only going on Tumblr and just got here so they haven't seen it yet. YET.

All fandom experiences have pieces of what you describe Anon, but it's Kpop fandoms that are the most extreme. And this is because it's driven by teens and mostly young girls. As much as people want to be the exception to the rule, the majority of people in these fandoms are still kids (up to 25 yrs old). Beyond kids, you have a lot of people of different ages with unhealthy fixations. I mean, how many "army" have you met who say their only happiness is BTS? I don't at all judge those people, but we have to be honest in saying that's not in the realm of healthy mindsets. When you put your happiness in people you don't know, that's a huge gamble.

A lot of people are fixated with online fandom community because they're filling in a void in their life; it can be a hobby (probably reasonably healthy) or it can be the person's reason to keep going. That's why you see such extreme reactions. When you're 12, everything is the end of the world. When your entire life is Baekhyun, his sore throat is gonna be the height of anxiety to you. Again, I'm not judging this; different strokes for different folks.

So what advice can I give you? Perhaps just to understand why it's happening and take breaks from it when it's not adding to your life. I mute people a lot. Basically, I put them in time-out. Even on DM too (oops secret's out!). If someone is crying about something I find infantalizing and a detriment to my life, I close it off and move on; I come back when/if I have time for that. I tend to unmute people when I can't remember what they did that was annoying. It works well. I can always re-mute. And this saves the block drama.

The easiest fix tho? Close Twitter, Tumblr, IG, etc and do something different. Watch a movie. Go out with friends. Or, watch a concert to remind you why you're really here. My "fangirling" is mostly in private, where I get to watch Taemin and SHINee concerts whenever I feel like it, by myself or with family and friends, and the only person whose opinion matters in mine.

Recently I watched SHINee World IV with my mom. She adored Jonghyun. Just gotta say that. ;)

#Kpop Ask #Kpop help #lol let's open up the advice column #kpop advice

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tianshiisdead · 2 years

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Hello again! Back to asking you some more questions out of curiosity! You’re answers have always been so detailed and insightful!

After seeing a few posts of yours, I wanted to ask, why do you ship China/ Mongolia? It’s a fairly unliked, or at least unpopular ship in the English Hetalia fandom, so I’m curious to see your perspective? That, and how do you imagine their dynamic?

Hii! I'm so glad my answers have been good, I love talking so thank you for the questions! I'm sorry about how long this reply is, its pretty rambly

quick disclaimer: these r my opinions and thoughts, there r sensitive topics and such here as well that I try to treat carefully

SHORT ANSWER

(ignore the 'show' lol it's jus fav x fav)

LONG ANSWER (warning. its pretty long)

Hmmm to be honest, the simplest answer is just that I like and ship everyone with China who is my fav, I really like Mongolia, they have shared history, so I smash them together and call it a ship LOL

It's also bc I like Chinese history and the Yuan dynasty is a pretty prominent dynasty. Plus it's incredibly funny to me to see China bounced from one foreign ruler to the next in that little pocket of time where a part of China passed from Mongolic to Tungusic rulers while the Song dynasty grew and then shrank until it was finally fully conquered by Kublai Khan + going with the headcanon that nation-tans lived with their conquerers, I think China chilling with Mongolia during the Yuan dynasty is a fun image. It's a little difficult to write about because Mongolia (and, less relevantly, China as well) like, fractured a lot? It's not a single line of successive nations, and modern groupings and borders haven't always been this way ofc, so it's always a little hard to parse that in Hetalia terms. But it's fun to think about : )

Also, I will say I follow mainly Japanese artists on twitter and there's surprisingly a rather developed niche of Mongolia/China shippers

Dynamics

Dynamic wise, I focus on old history, but I like a variety of things! ぴよEX from pixiv has some really fun historical comics, the super serious Mongolian Empire and arrogant but expressive China are really cute when interacting, their casual day to day dynamic and interactions despite the situation are fun too. As a big China fan from a purely Hetalia point of view abt an event from many centuries ago, there's a feeling like 'wow he put a lot of effort into conquering China huh he tried really hard lol that's kind of cute... also he was the only one to Truly Have all of China until Qing dynasty came along... the Khitans and Jurchens all tried but were unable to fully conquer China... it was only Him 🥺'

I personally really love clingy China who reminisces about the old days and Mongolia who's a little tired of it, even though it's very unrealistic because the Yuan dynasty obviously wasn't a fun time for Yaoyao and then the Qing dynasty. ALSO was not a fun time for him haha so what would he even reminisce about... it exists in my heart though, a nebulous 'yeah maybe they hang out sometimes and China gets jealous over stupid shit and reminisces thru nostalgia lenses about how he once sat side by side with Mongolia and Mongolia tries to focus on the meal and not on the yandere beside him'. I also have a specific image in my head of Mongolian empire era Mongolia walking around with Song dynasty China tagging along to complain about stuff despite the lack of friendliness between their respective nations. Ahistorical but fun! The few Mongolia/China fics I've read in the English fandom that aren't openly anti-shipping are rather angsty fics about the Yuan dynasty, and though I can see why, I think it's much more entertaining to see their coexistence and casual day-to-day interactions in the ~century that the Yuan dynasty lasted, China's annoying peppiness, Mongolia half-listening to his flights of fancy while doing Big Ruling Things, etc. In general, the base of the ship for me is 'tall, annoyed, and serious x small, annoying, and expressive'. Like the first image I doodled specifically for this ask lol

Its place in English fandom

On the topic of popularity, I can understand why it's not as popular in the English fandom tbh the history between the countries has been very antagonistic and fraught w violence, esp in modern history, the 1900s and Mongolia's struggle for independence and such. and culturally there aren't that many similarities, aside from what's left over from the past rule's influence on culture and then there's a bit of cultural influence up north ofc. And then the topic of Inner Mongolia, as well as ethnic tensions... I'm not really in a place to comment and I'm not nearly knowledgeable enough to say anything, so this is just an acknowledgment it exists and also that it in my experience influences the English fandom, which, I mean good for them doing some research and staying away from sensitive topics and potentially offensive depictions

also the people who ship Mongolia ships in the English fandom tend to be Mongolia biases, and this ship is more of a China fan ship if that makes any sense? Like, if you liked Mongolia you might ship him with like, Tibet, have something fluffy and sweet and not... this toxic ship fraught with recent suffering, but if you like China there's a bigger chance of shipping him with Mongolia focusing on the Yuan dynasty. A bit of bullying for our fav little arrogant old guy. Meanwhile, there aren't that many China mains in the English fandom and the ones who are out there tend to ship him with yt ppl and focus on either AUs or modern history with a focus on China/western relations 😅 which I mean, fine, I do as well dsjjghfljk but fun historical ships like Mongolia/China aren't really popular.

Qing Dynasty rambles, kinda off topic

Another thing: the Qing dynasty! Okay so, I've read like. at least one english fic that had China turned into an oppressive little dickhead in this time period, but IMO and it's a very very personal and subjective thing, I don't think having China, that is Yaoyao, being the main force in the Qing dynasty makes much sense. This isn't like Yaoyao apologia LMAO it's more like, if each distinct and separate people and culture have their own nation-tan, I don't see why Manchu wouldn't. We may be sinicized now and I consider myself Chinese, but we are still a distinct people to the Han and Manchu were NOT Chinese back then!! It should also be noted that while the Manchu ruling class encouraged the mindset of a diverse China, 'Manchu Mongol Han' (满蒙汉) type thing, they were still conquerors who conquered China, Mongolia, and then a bunch of other places, and there was a hierarchy involved that had Han Chinese below Manchu. There were Han (and Mongolians and other ppl) who were promoted and integrated into the banner system or given Manchu clans or whatever and they were allowed to send their daughters in as concubines but the upper class was generally Manchu and there was a (failed) effort to retain traditional culture, meaning it can't be taken as 'Manchuria was consumed' sort of integration. Shoving 'well China was not in charge of China' in there kind of... changes the dynamics of Mongolia and aph China a little? Another, maybe more important point, is that Mongolia being conquered by the Qing dynasty in many cases wasn't initially a China Mongolia thing so much as a Manchu/Jurchen tribes vs Mongolian groups sort of thing, some groups fought with the Manchu, others were allied w Manchu Qing for protection against other groups, also iirc there were enmity/alliances left over from when Manchu were a bunch of little Jurchen tribes who either fought with the nearby Mongolic groups or turned to certain Mongolic groups for trade and alliances as protection. Like I get that in modern times HOW exactly the conquering went down doesn't matter as much as that it did and at that time China was the main force even ruled by outside conquerors, especially because the Qing dynasty is acknowledged as Chinese and the current country is a direct successor state to the successor state of this dynasty, but Hetalia content that directly addresses this history should take it into account. It's sort of like hmmm the Yuan dynasty's attack on Japan?

Of course, this is a sensitive topic! Lots of violence. Sooo it's the sort of thing that I'm hesitant to make 'content' about, but I do think about it sometimes. How would the relations go down? Idk bc Qing dynasty isn't one of my preferred periods for Mongolia/China but I thought I'd include it anyways since I've seen this era around in the English fandom and I had a Hot Take I wanted to express. It would be an interesting dynamic, though, bc then China goes hard trying to keep Mongolia in the republic era which was VERY VERY ruled by Han who were miffed about centuries of oppression under Manchu rule, lots of anti ethnic minority sentiment arose from that and the, ah, other events going on in during the late 1800s and early 1900s. so it's like... as a country it makes sense but how do you fit this into the characters? It's not like the characters have to like what's happening in their country of course, but I'd like to situate them in the time and atmosphere nonetheless. It's also a situation where China was getting hella brutalized during the late Qing/Republic era by western powers and Japan, so the usual line about this era for it is 'wow poor baby : (' which I admit I love, but it does leave Mongolia, any and all suppression of culture, and its independence movement by the wayside. A country and its systems can be very complicated because everything happens all the time and there's like a billion people involved but then u gotta find a way to balance it within these individual characters which is hard!! I've read so many fics in this era and it always focuses on a few specific character/country relations and inevitably leaves many big things out, everything just happens all the time huh!

I guess the timeline would be roughly:

Stirrings of trouble -> Manchuria gathering. some Jurchen groups are directly allied with Mongolian groups for protection while other Jurchen groups waged war on them and the Ming dynasty so this is awkward -> wowee China has been conquered uwu Yaoyao enters another Jin dynasty -> battle with Mongolia ig? or talks of alliance? The same thing applies to pre-Manchu unification, it's hard when all the different groups represented by one dude are doing different things and it's hard to say who gets the nation-tan -> ok now Qing dynasty is at its largest. China and Mongolia are both under Manchu rule, Mongolia has a bit more status but China gets kept closer to the rulers and in the palace cause obvious reasons. Do they interact? probably sometimes? i'd have to do more research on the details -> oh no the westies have arrived to do a bit of war and opium -> China has attacked and gotten rid of Manchuria, preferably while crying for the spice, but now that he has Mongolia he doesn't want to let go : ( misery -> and the rest is history. i guess

Closing

I'm sorry if nothing makes sense but I started writing and editing at midnight and I can see daylight through the windows so I'll leave it here

Finally: here's a link to PiyoEX's Mongolia/China compilation! There's a bunch of short comics about the Mongolian Empire/Song Dynasty part of history, some Russia Mongolia China, and one timeline of events with Mongolia celebrating Yuan dynasty, China celebrating Ming dynasty, and both of them side eyeing the new guy for the Qing dynasty dksljhgf

To be honest I don't usually think too deeply about this ship aside from teehee funny 1100s AD interactions and wow what if they went out in modern times and Mongolia had a horrible time and China couldn't stop clinging to his arm like a bug! And ofc that one irl video where China was thanking Mongolia for some sheep the gov sent, and some dude sang this song of thanks that was autotuned to hell, but the ship has a lot of potential for exploration, though it's sensitive and hard to handle correctly imo

#ask #mongolmaral #hetalia #monchu #hws china #hws mongolia #long post #tiart #tia rambles #aph china #aph mongolia

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