#and I've already explained that the existence of my flat chest doesn't have anything to do with the body mod

[pinkyjulien]

Thanks to everyone who shared their kind words! To those who came into DMs to check in and to those who weighted in with their thoughts on what happened 🤲

I have wonderful people around me, wonderful friends that have been making such unecessary drama way easier to handle; I'm fine and will resume normal posting soon 👀

[genericpuff]

To me the problem with lore olympus and rachel is that she keeps the fan feedback too close to her chest, yes it does "affect her because she's very sensitive" which is smth rachel has said before in interviews and stuff, but the problem is that if u let fan opinions get in the way of ur work maybe u should set boundaries with the way u interact with fan content OF UR OWN WORK.

Im not sure if im explaining myself correctly, but the way rachel somehow always tries to prove criticism wrong and has slowly started ignoring the foundations she previously set is making everything just so flat and boring. She doesnt work with what we've already read but trying to somehow "fix" things that are sometimes not clear on the get go.

For example, u (and a lot of people) complained about how demeter explicitly said she always put persephone in white (when persephone has willingly been wearing that color through the entire series). Meanwhile, i remember having read a post from loreolympians on instagram (iirc) analyzing perse's change of color scheme during s2.

The problem with these things is that rachel has most likely been engaging with these fans who take for granted that she plans everything out or that everything has a deep meaning (which to a sense you should do, because having faith in the author is usually how to go about analyzing storytelling), and somehow it's become a strange echochamber and it results in these weird, very blatantly written to be noticed, details or moments htat try to be smart but are just flat bc rachel doesnt give any effort to anything else aand prefers telling rather than showing so she can feel like a good author when fans obviously point these out

Jdhdjd these are just my two cents and sorry for the long rant but yeah basically rachel should separate herself from the fandom and try to write more objectively and focusing on the narrative instead of taking every little criticism of her comic so personally

Honestly, I can get being a little squeamish around criticism, shit I've had analysis stuff on my work that's consisted of praise and it's still sometimes a little overwhelming to read (I've got a big one in my asks right now that took me like 10 minutes to get thru because I had to keep taking breathers and I still need to actually share it LMAO it's not even criticism! it's just got so much in it, ahfdsaklg)

When it comes to criticism, I still get a little "aw man" sometimes. I recently got feedback from Pyrrhic & Victoria on my Reaper redraws and even though I'm pals with them and know they aren't gonna be harsh, it's still an incredibly vulnerable position to put oneself in. Especially when it's projects that you hold very close to your sense of self.

RS has definitely taken it a little too far in tying LO to herself as a person. Criticism of the comic = criticism of her , and her fanbase seems to view this the same way, that if someone doesn't like the comic, that has to automatically say something about them as consumers when... it really doesn't. If anything their reactions to criticism say way more about them as people than the criticism existing lmao

What's more upsetting and simultaneously eye-rolling is the fact that Rachel goes out of her way to look for things to be upset about. On multiple occasions now over the past 4-5 years, she's snuck into groups containing criticism, attempted to strongarm power away from moderators so she could have criticism removed, and basically just ruined her own day over other people's opinions whether or not they were meant to be read by her.

It's why I stand by the fact that people shouldn't be directly messaging RS with criticism or hate because that would just be unsolicited cruelty. While she should be more open to criticism, that doesn't mean she needs to open the floodgates on her DM's because there are plenty of places for criticism to exist outside of her peripheral. But she keeps turning her head to look at it. Like, she'll throw a hissy fit over criticism that wasn't even really directly aimed at her, just meant for the sake of discussion. And that's where I'd really honestly wish she could just get a grip.

Like, I'm sure there's criticism of Rekindled out there already. Shit, I've had other projects from yeeears ago that ended up being made fun of outside of where I posted it. It sucked, but going out and actively looking for it for the purpose of erasing it from existence wasn't going to make me a better creator nor was it going to benefit me as a person.

It's a shitty reality, but the bigger you grow as a creator, the more you will have to separate yourself from your audience. You don't have to stonewall them completely, many people follow these works for the creators themselves, but you're not entitled to everyone's friendship and praise, and if the criticism really bugs you that much, then fucking work on the thing they're criticizing, don't double down on it or try to control how your audience consumes your content.

It's why it drives me so nuts when RS does infiltrate these groups because it's an incredible invasion of privacy as well as the creator-reader relationship. Q&A's, panels, and personal socials are where you go to interact with the creator. A creator sneaking into a Discord group or subreddit or FB group with the intent of "listening in" would be equivalent to J.K. Rowling showing up in person to a book club meeting. It's just disrespectful to your audience and makes you look like a huge asshole. Have some grace and for once, I'll tell Rachel and her fanbase to take their own advice - if you don't like it, don't read it.

[pizzawendell]

reading this back it's a little bit personal not really anything to content warning but I appreciate that I mostly post about the most inconsequential shit ever on here so if you don't want to hear about my dreams/gender feelings move along. It also blows way past all of the punchlines that I was angling for when I started so it reads as a fairly rote piece of confessional writing which is a genre I for one don't like and you may not too. Also the way I wrote it often reads as though everyone in the world is trans which is both funny and desirable. Gonna post it anyway because it's not a perspective I've seen much of so if someone stumbles on it they might enjoy it and also I don't have to justify every post I will post it it'll be good for the economy.

I had a dream a while ago where I had breasts and it's sorta hard to articulate how that made me feel in a way that makes sense to most trans people. I think most people hear that and basically assume it's a sorta textbook sublimated desire thing, but it was really the opposite. Ever since moving back to a flat with a full height mirror (or indeed mirrors at all) I've been able to much more meaningfully engage with myself as a person with a body and ask myself what I want that body to look like. One of those questions was my chest because it's something I could very feasibly do something about. I spent a lot of time visualising all sorts of different ways my body could be (flatter, boobier, rounder, pecs etc) and I really wasn't sure. I think the subconscious gets placed on this pedestal in the trans community bc for a lot of people things have to get pushed down for all sorts of reasons and I was trying to trigger the sorts of bolts of realisation a lot of people describe when they realise exactly who they want to be. At first I thought this dream might be that, but the longer I sat with it the more I realised that I really really didn't want to look that way. In a sense, I'd triggered one of those moments but in the negative. I think when I say that a lot of people would kinda assume it's bullshit because there's a million stories of trans people who have some sort of moment where they avoid acknowledging their desire for binary transition and then later realise they were just ignoring super obvious signs and everyone has a good laugh about it. I worry a lot about how to express this because being trans is already more or less the experience of being told repeatedly that you don't know who you are or what you want and it's pretty easy to get in your head about that. There's this practice- especially on twitter -of people placing knowing bets about who's gonna come out as what and it's generally a good time, but I think that whenever I try to express this stuff some bit of me is imagining the DMs of fictional strangers (I am very healthy and well adjusted) doing that whole thing and smugly assuming that my experience fits into some traditional hero's journey arc where at some point I have to refuse the call but will inevitably end up at the some totally different place they see as the end point of the story. This whole process is obviously not falsifiable bc if someone doesn't follow the path set out for them it can always be explained away as repression or the closet or something else. I don't much care if some random jerk calls me an agp or whatever but I do want trans people to believe me when I say I've thought a lot about this and know how I feel. This basically verificationist enterprise of trying to call shots exists more or less to soothe those doing the calling, since by nominally recognising the signs in others they bulwark themselves against the broader societal notion that trans people are just confused or naïve. It feels a bit exceptionalist to declare that I'm just built different and simply don't want what the majority of people in my position want. Odds are that I ought to fit where the smart money would put me. I'm sure people do it for lots of other reasons as well (and indeed me armchair diagnosing them falls into a lot of the same patterns of thought I ascribed to others) but I do generally try to avoid it as an activity because I know the ways it's inadvertantly given me all sorts of brain worms. So I worry a lot about how to express all of this in a way that won't set off assumptions that someone's about to win five dollars or whatever. All this to say that it's not bullshit that even though I had a dream where I had tits the more I thought about it the more dysphoric that idea made me. I know what I'm talking about.

A perpendicular question to all of this was whether I wanted to take oestrogen. A big problem I have is not liking facial/body hair one bit and arresting that along with getting softer skin as a little bonus sounds pretty neat. I came to the hilarious realisation that if I took oestrogen I would also want top surgery at some point which is 1. Very funny and 2. Not a practical approach to transition. I had a subsequently hilarious realisation while playing Fire Emblem that the kind of chest I want is basically just an 'athletic' one without all of the chest hair that makes me feel awful to look at. Just a full on 'oh I should look like that they/them ass anime boy' moment. It's a funny place to be in because the part of me that doubts myself wonders if it's trans 'enough' to basically want a body type that just requires an exercise regime to achieve. It's dumb and bioessentialist to conceive of transing your gender as a process of simply swapping your biology with some opposite but a lot of me feels like it ought to be that way. Also, I kinda wish there was some way to achieve it with pills or injections (other than the laser) bc I'm not wildly excited to reincorporate exercise into my life. This dovetails neatly with my feeling like there's girls with anime profiles on twitter betting on me because I am already openly trans and they bet on whose egg will crack. What better example is there of insecurity about my desired body than imagining people gossiping about how a trans person would never want that? Nevertheless, I can't help but feel the worry. I want to be seen for who I am by my own people but I always feel like the outside result expresses the interior in an unclear way. Part of me likes the worry because it's part of the telemetry of knowing my feelings are real. If it was all made up as some psychological trick, I probably wouldn't be this anxious for people to believe me. In my experience lying is much less stressful because what you're saying is designed to fulfil all of the listener's expectations. While I enjoy the reassurance, I would rather possess the capacity to feel that I knew what was inside was also clearly without.

So I find myself looking at a cis man who looks a lot like me and gendering. How can you wish that were you? That is you you stupid faggot! And yet. For a while now I've been trying to land my expression somewhere between fem gay and masc lesbian (in a cool and and unproblematic way I promise) without any particular interest in looking androgynous and that is honestly just not a long way to go from where I started. He's just like me for real and also merely an ingredient in the stew I am cooking. I really am like if a man and a woman had a baby.

This got away from me a bit and so the original joke has been submerged in a mini essay which has also let its conclusion run away from it. Anyway a middle aged woman asked me what my pronouns are last month so I guess I'm doing something right.

[plasticnightmaredoll]

(art commission by the lovely and talented @curious-menace)

It is a time where I would like to see what my followers think about various concepts I have in mind pertaining to alternate versions of one my fics. It may take some time to write out any alternate versions since I've been busy and stressed out so much lately, but I am very curious as to what others would find intriguing to read.

But first, some backstory so be patient. We'll get to the voting at the end of this post.

I've been having a lot of bad days lately, and my mood has plummeted to a major low. This includes my self-esteem, which has always been in the dumps but is now basically a dumpster fire.

However, I don't want to be entirely cruel to myself. I deserve some sort of happiness, some sort of reprieve, and writing can be a good coping mechanism. I put a lot of my own thoughts, emotions, struggles, opinions, etc. into my works, as they serve as a way for me to get things off my chest. Sometimes, it's just cute and funny stuff, other times angsty but eventually fluffy stuff, and other times it's quite depressing and dark.

One fic, in particular, stands out, and that is the Mortal Kombat/Batman Arkhamverse crossover, "Volunteer," (trigger warnings: mentions psychological torture and suicide...more about this fic in a bit for those who would rather not read it because of those triggers) which features Arkham Knight Edward Nigma and Jonathan Crane, as well as a lady friend for Edward named Sara. It also features Erron Black and Cassie Cage from Mortal Kombat (Cassie is only mentioned in the story a few times).

If you read the blog intro/self-introduction post pinned at the top of my Tumblr, you know very well how I feel about Cassie Cage (particularly in MK11) and the Erron Black x Cassie Cage (BlackCage) pairing. Those negative feelings are mostly due to a very bad experience with a pushy BlackCage fan who just wouldn't relent one bit on their stance and it was emotionally and mentally draining to try and talk to them, including providing counter-arguments.

I've come up with alternate versions for "Volunteer" recently due to the spike in stress, depression, anxiety, and insecurities I've been dealing with as of late. This is where my followers come in!

I would like people to vote on which alternate take on "Volunteer" they would be interested in reading. Now, I can't guarantee when I'd get to it because, as I mentioned already, I've got a lot going on. However, I really want to try and write at least one alternate version of that fic, just to get some insecurities and negative thoughts off my chest.

Now, for those who are wary of reading "Volunteer" because of the trigger warnings, here's my advice: Just read the first chapter, if you want to. Chapter 2 deals directly with the sensitive subject matter, although, you can probably guess what happens anyway just by reading Chapter 1 and if you know anything about Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow...well, he likes to mess with people...mentally. To put it very mildly.

Now it's time for the voting. I have three different scenarios I've come up with that are variations/alternate versions of the current "Volunteer" fic's concept/storyline. I'd like followers to select 1 (one) alternate telling of the fic. I will open anonymous asks again, so if you are shy or just want your vote to remain a secret for some other reason, then that's fine by me. Otherwise, you can reply to this post with your choice.

Edit: if you are turned off by the idea of a Mortal Kombat/Batman Arkhamverse crossover, I get it. I don't read crossover fics myself, and that's usually because the crossovers either make no sense or do make sense but the ideas are poorly executed.

This crossover I'm talking about, though, isn't a full-on crossover of MK and Batman. There's no world-building, no larger plot, and no other characters in MK even appear or are mentioned except Erron Black and Cassie Cage.

If anything, it's more of a Batman Arkhamverse standard AU with Riddler and a female oc, and Erron and Cassie are the only concrete elements of MK brought in. I mean, yes, the other MK characters exist, I guess, but they have no purpose in this crossover I've written, and won't make any appearances.

So, if you had any concerns about the crossover aspect, I hope this clears things up

Choices below the cut!

A) "Don't You Wish"

This version is inspired by a song from Pink, called, "There You Go." In this alternate telling, Erron manages to survive Scarecrow's fear toxin, and escape (most likely because Erron is out of his mind and panicking, thus not a threat, and he has no one to help him, so Scarecrow doesn't give a damn what happens to the dude). The first thing Erron does is go to Sara's place, having already broken up with Cassie after realizing dating her was a mistake, and Sara means more to him than he thought.

Well, it's been several months since Sara basically pushed Erron out of her life for his poor choice in women, and (Arkham Knight) Edward Nigma has proven to be a much better (and, wiser and more sensible -- yes, I know, but he's not a skirt chaser, Guys) friend to Sara. While Erron ran off with a blonde selfie princess, Edward offered genuine comfort and companionship, and now Sara has been in the process of moving on from Erron even further.

Sara humors Erron and lets him tell her -- while sounding terrified, confused, and conflicted beyond belief thanks to the fear toxin -- what happened to him. Now, Sara doesn't know Edward asked Scarecrow to take care of Erron as a means of getting revenge for her. Doesn't matter anyway. She's unsympathetic towards Erron's plight, feeling as if he didn't even give her a chance to confess her feelings towards him, nor did he even seem to notice how she felt; it was like he was too busy with thinking with his privates to realize he had someone in front of him who would have treated him better.

Sara tells Erron -- in a flat, disinterested tone -- that his situation is tragic and all but wtf is she supposed to do? Why not go to his dumb blonde gf? Oh, they broke up? Well, how predictable. And Crane is also a (sort of) friend to Sara, which shocks Erron and leaves him feeling worse than before.

Sara sends Erron on his way, and he wanders off in a daze, unsure of what to do with his life now.

Sara and Edward meet the next day, and they have a pleasant time, obviously moving towards becoming a couple. She chooses not to mention Erron as she is completely severing the cowboy from her life.

B) "I Don't Even Miss You"

This alternate telling is similar to the previous one, but this time it's inspired by a Miley Cyrus song, "WTF Do I Know" (Hey, her Plastic Hearts album is actually fantastic!), and Edward is with Sara when Erron arrives at her place in a distressed state. At first, Sara deals with Erron in the hall of her apartment building, unsympathetic to his plight and basically telling him, "I told you so," and "too bad." Erron is getting more and more upset, even angry at Sara's callous tone, and starts to raise his voice, demanding to know why she is being so cold at a time like this?

Edward overhears Erron raising his voice to Sara, giving her a difficult time, and he gets pissed. Edward steps out into the hall and not only mocks Erron in various ways, but demands that he leave immediately, or what Scarecrow did will seem like a trip to Disney Land. Erron has caused Sara -- who is currently moving on and growing closer to Edward -- enough problems and heartache.

Edward reveals he set up Erron, and while Sara is stunned to find this out, she handles it better than expected. Edward said it was his way of getting revenge for her, and he'd do it again if need be. Erron is sent away feeling so much worse, feeling lost, hopeless, and betrayed.

Sara and Edward talk and she admits she's upset that he did something like this without speaking about it to her first. However, he explains that he genuinely did it for her and he doesn't want her to feel pain at the hands of some "idiotic cowman," who doesn't consider the feelings of others and who behaves like a greedy, violent Neanderthal. (And yes, Edward does care for Sara, and he didn't send Scarecrow after Erron out of jealousy -- maybe a little jealousy but it was mostly rage over Erron causing Sara so much emotional pain)

Sara means more to Edward than he can express, and he may not be the best when it comes to emotions, but he does care about her and wants her to be safe.

Sara forgives Edward, understanding that, through his heartfelt but very nervous and shy confession that he is sincere about his feelings for her, and they make amends. She of course tells him to never do something so extreme without consulting her first, though, because what happened to Erron -- while she doesn't care what happens to him in the slightest -- was a bit too much.

C) "Listen When the Devil's Calling"

Another title inspired by a Miley Cyrus song, "Night Crawling," and this alternate telling involves Telltale Riddler and no Scarecrow. Almost a year has passed since Erron went with Cassie and Sara, out of bitterness and heartache, refused to speak or see him. This didn't sit well with him as she was his only friend, and his relationship with Cassie dies within a few months.

He goes looking for Sara, realizing she has moved out of her apartment. It doesn't take him long to find out where she is, and she's with The Riddler, a notorious criminal genius and one of Gotham's elite villains. Erron is worried for Sara and seeks her out.

Turns out, Sara's just fine. This isn't one of those scenarios where the girl is with a guy who just using her and taking advantage of her vulnerability. No, Edward does actually love her and takes good care of her. He finds people like reckless, selfish, and ignorant people like Erron to be a disgrace but also amusing because of how pathetically primitive they are.

Edward also doesn't appreciate how Erron pushed aside a good thing in Sara to pursue a girl who is a social media brat and has more selfies on her phone than brain cells in her, well, brain. It defies all logic to Edward, but he's also not surprised because of how much of a disappointment Erron is as a human being (hey, this is Riddler we're talking about, and he's not one to be sweet and gentle to those he can't stand). Edward doesn't say these things out loud, though, as it's a bit too vulnerable and personal for him to do such a thing with someone he doesn't know or trust.

Sara is upset that Erron has resurfaced and she remembers how heartbroken she was when he went after Cassie Cage. She wants Erron to leave her alone like she asked, so she can move on. She can't trust him anymore, because he's just a skirt chaser in her eyes.

Erron tries to plead his case, tries to apologize to Sara, and expresses how he really feels, but this just distresses her further. Edward steps in and tells Erron he's done enough to Sara, she clearly doesn't want to see him, and he needs to take his leave.

This isn't a request.

Edward pulls Erron aside, telling the cowboy that the only reason he's going to walk away from this alive is that Sara hasn't asked for him to be killed. Should she tell Edward to take care of Erron, well, you all know what Telltale Riddler is like.

And those are the three variations on "Volunteer."

If you could be so kind as to:

leave a comment with your choice or

send an ask (even an anon ask) with your choice or

suggest your take on this story.

I'd appreciate it immensely!

Thank you all so much for supporting me and my writing and being patient with my sluggish publishing schedule!

[ghost-chance]

Excerpt from "The Demon King and the Half-Breed Hermit"

Gotta log off for a while after this but first, I wanted to share this (unedited and incomplete) scene. It's for an upcoming (in-the-works) chapter of my Piccolo/OC-centric ▶Dragon Ball post-GT◀ fic, found on my FFnet account. Why am I sharing it? Firstly, it's proof I'm still writing (...trying...) and despite the long wait for new chapters, DK&HBH has NOT been abandoned. (NOTHING has been abandoned!) Secondly, THIS is what happens when I tell myself "I need to start writing characters who can effectively communicate and deal with their emotions like functional adults!" 😑 Yes...AUBERGINE happens.

Hopefully the "Queen of Issues" can make someone smile.

🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲🌳🌲

Life as a single mother was generally a struggle; as a single mother of two half-Saiyan boys, life was a never-ending catastrophe. Fortunately for Son Chi-Chi, both her boys were grown men capable of running their own lives; unfortunately, that left her to manage her household alone. Oh, sure, Gohan and Videl regularly offered to move her into their home and take care of her, but she wasn't quite ready to accept that offer. She was quite capable of taking care of herself…at least, that is, when she wasn't weighed down with groceries and being chased down by a saber-toothed wildcat.

Winded, she stumbled and landed hard on her knees, her bags falling and the contents scattering. One moment she could practically feel the beast's rancid breath on her neck; the next a warning shout split the air, quickly followed by a pained yelp. Chi-Chi scrambled onto her back and stilled at the familiar silhouette cast by the afternoon sun through the trees. Black hair as ragged as ever and eyes dark as pitch, Aubergine held the struggling wildcat by the throat, leaching away its strength. She drained it a little longer before letting it slink away in shame, then looked to her fallen sister-in-law over her shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Chi-Chi answered as she gathered the spilled goods, then belatedly added "thank you." Aubrey shrugged and hoisted the bags onto her shoulder as the black faded from her eyes.

"Well, someone's got to shield the squishies," she replied instead. The familiar retort used to irritate Chi-Chi, but now she recognized it for what it was: you're welcome. I don't mind. Aubergine's long silences, half-answers, and silence took a while to adjust to but by now it was like a second language to her sister in-law. 

The remainder of the journey to Chi-Chi's home passed in a silence midway between comfortable and awkward, and before she knew it, the matron was stowing away her groceries. Aubergine sat at the table, brooding and fiddling with a small shaker jar from the revolving rack in the middle. Recognizing the speckled contents, she pried the lid open, sniffed at the contents, and sneezed; her eyes and sinuses burned in protest as she jammed it closed and shoved it back on the rack. Yes, she identified it correctly. "So how's Piccolo settling in?" At the resulting silence, she turned to find Aubergine scowling like someone who just chewed five lemons in a row without stopping to sweeten them. "That well, huh?" Chi-Chi teased. I

Aubergine shot her a deadpan glower then exchanged the speckled powder for a jar full of tiny seeds. As if it explained everything, she grunted, "he's not dead yet." These seeds didn't burn her nose but they had a rather unpleasant smell somewhat like rank body odor. Nose scrunching at the stink, Aubrey exchanged the jar for a tall shaker full of tiny white crystals with a much sweeter scent. Over by the table, Chi-Chi gave a knowing smile as the half-breed examined her spices. "I don't understand how one person can require so many of these things," Aubergine muttered surveying the multitude of tiny jars and shakers on the Lazy-Susan. "What's the point of all this crap?" 

"Spices?" Chi-Chi asked, and upon receiving a blank look added, "they make food taste good. As for the number, different dishes require different spices—you can't cook everything with the same ingredients." Aubrey stilled, eyes wide and locked on the three jars she investigated before. "What brought you here anyway?" If Chi-Chi didn't know any better, she'd say the half-breed was embarrassed.

"He quit complaining," Aubrey mumbled. "He used to whine that I was poisoning him; now he doesn't say anything…but…he doesn't have to. I thought…" She fell silent, cleared her throat, then collected the other two bottles and shoved the lot toward Chi-Chi. "Fish. It was worse than usual."

Chi-Chi was used to getting only half the picture from her half-Saiyan sister-in-law but this was even less information than usual. Those three spices were never used in the same dish; then again, this was Aubergine, and Aubergine was quite possibly the worst cook in the realms. "Correct me if I'm wrong," Chi-Chi asked, "but are you saying you cooked fish…with black pepper, cumin, and sugar…?" The half-breed glanced at the jars, read the fading labels, and gave a wary nod; Chi-Chi felt her breakfast threaten reappearance. "No wonder, then," she sighed. "Cumin and pepper can be used on fish but generally not together, and you don't use sugar on seafood."

"This is so stupid." …and so began Aubrey's usual response to statements regarding food as anything beyond life-preserving sustenance. After so many years of hearing the same thing over and over again, Chi-Chi easily tuned out the increasingly loud rant and gathered a few more appropriate seasonings for fish. "Food doesn't have to taste good!" Aubergine spat without regard. "Its only purpose is to keep you from dying of hunger, anything beyond that is friv—" Finally, she went silent. Of course, taking Chi-Chi's frying pan to the skull would shut anyone up.

"There's more to life than just existing," Chi-Chi scolded as Aubergine rubbed the already swelling lump on her skull and growled under her breath. "There's more to life than just survival. We were put on this Earth to thrive, not just not die."

"We were put on this Earth because my dumbass brother didn't have the balls to kill that midget Pilaf from the start." This time she ducked the frying pan. 

"You're missing the point as always," Chi-Chi huffed. "I swear, you're so much like my Goku. Aubergine, when your life's over, you'll have an eternity to look back on what you did. If all you have to look back on is not dying, then what's the point?" Aubergine went silent, glaring at the wall beside her as if blaming it for everything that ever went wrong in her life. It didn't escape Chi-Chi that said wall stood between her kitchen and the home Goku and Aubergine grew up in. Not for the first time, she wondered what the half-breed's life was like in those early years, and what molded her into the distant, bristly woman she was now.

"Life was always enough before." The admission was quiet—half-muffled in Aubrey's mostly flat chest and aimed into the polished tabletop—but to the human matron it had the same impact as a battle cry. "Stay out of danger," the half-saiyan muttered as though reciting some sort of task list. "Find and maintain shelter, locate reliable sustenance, protect your brother…" ..wait for me to come find you. I promise, I'll come find you! Bardock may have been a visionary, but an honest Saiyan, he was not. He never came for them… "That used to be enough…" …until said brother ran off with a blue-haired teenager in search of adventure and left Aubergine behind. Sure, she caught up after a while and tagged along for a few misadventures—living alone in the wilds got boring, after all—but at the end of the day, she couldn't even accomplish the most important of these tasks. She couldn't protect Goku. One hand strayed up to brush her bangs out of her dead eye. She couldn't even protect herself. "Why isn't that enough anymore?"

"Perhaps it never really was enough." Chi-Chi's smile held no judgment and her voice no censure. "Perhaps you're only just realizing it now." Perhaps…Aubergine turned to the window, eyes trained on the distant misty peak of Mt. Paozu. After so many years of feeling stuck in place, maybe it was time to change. "I've offered before and the offer stands—I'll teach you to cook if you'll let me." For the first time, the offer was answered with a long silence instead of some bitter retort or evasive remark, proof in Chi-Chi's mind that the other was finally considering it.

"A year ago none of this would've…" Aubergine fell silent; again, she was driven to brush her bangs away from her blind eye though they weren't impairing her sight. That nervous tic would be the death of her someday… She cleared her throat and tried again. "Nothing mattered a year ago. It still shouldn't matter." Chi-Chi faltered. She recognized where this topic was leading as easily as she knew how Aubergine must have reacted to Piccolo's resurrection. She smoothed the skirt of her long dress and seated herself at the table. The rest of the groceries could wait a bit longer.

"The first time I lost Goku…" I lost Goku. Even after so many times of saying those words, her throat still caught around them; even after how many times Goku died, the very mention still triggered an echo of the day Krillin brought her the news. Her son, missing – her husband, dead – worst of all, the threat wasn't even over. "Well, I was a mess," Chi-Chi finished mildly. The past was in the past—let it lie there in peace. "Every time I lost him, I felt sure it was my fault for not being strong enough to keep him. Every time he came back, I tried harder than before to make him stay…and every time, I lost him again anyway…the last time, for good. He refused to be revived." Even now, the words made her eyes burn and her throat clench, so it was a comfort when Aubergine broke the tense silence.

"He was an idiot like that." The dry remark earned a weak chuckle.

"Indeed. Even now, were he to walk through that door, I'd still take him back. He left us all behind when he refused resurrection, but I'd still welcome him home with open arms." She hummed softly, leaning on her elbows and looking out the nearest window. Already the blue of the sky was deepening and the days, shortening—harvest time might come early this year. "For all his faults, and there were many, Goku was always so much stronger than I ever could be. I could never leave behind those I love, even to keep them safe…he did so without a second thought."

"But when the danger's gone, how does staying dead solve anything?" Aubergine cut in—an unusually long sentence from an unusually brief speaker. "The people he left behind—they still needed him—they depended on him, and he turned his back on them!" Chi-Chi hazarded a glance at her company; Aubergine was off in another world, her vision trained somewhere far beyond the woodgrain of the tabletop. "Didn't he know? Didn't it matter?" Chi-Chi's wrinkle-framed lips tilted into a sly smile.

"He knew there were such people, I'm sure," she answered. "I have a feeling he didn't quite understand what it would put you through." Aubergine gave a faint nod, eyes distant, then startled as she realized the subject change. Both women knew they were no longer talking about Goku; neither was ready to admit it, either. The half-Saiyan's cheeks darkened in embarrassment, but the effect was lessened by the venomous glare aimed out the window. "You never told him, did you?" Chi-Chi pressed.

"Why bother?" Aubergine muttered. "He knew what he was doing. He had to know I'd—" She fell short, remembering vividly the searing pain in her chest from the day the earth was destroyed—the fracturing of a heart timed to the shattering of a planet. From the first wince to the last breath, she felt Piccolo die, and it was a feeling she'd never forget…or forgive. "...I never should have marked the bastard."

Once again, Chi-Chi was given only bits and pieces, but this time she was content with it. If the scars on Aubergine's throat were any indication, the whole picture wasn't one she cared to see.