Tumgik
#I am a horror writer and I am not afraid to admit this
carriedreamerxx · 5 months
Text
"The Pom Pom files": Character concept art | Kieran
****
[Kieran and Carmine still do not have surnames - that is being worked on]
Tumblr media
It's been a year since Kitakami because a gradual take over is far more frightening in my opinion than a sudden quick one: like a poison "oozing" through the halls even.
Design notes::
-Is covered in cuts and bruises from hard training, his clothes are constantly torn and his hair is much more messy and unkempt. Lacey has heck of a time trying to make this champion look remotely presentable.
-His shoes are constantly untied. This is a guy who really does not care about anything but winning and training. Drayton goes as far as to say it's like an obsession. Crispin' has less diplomatic things to say. It's fine he's still new. He'll "learn".
- No one really knows what's in that weird wooden PokeBall with an aged clasp that is covered according to Carmine in... Protection sigils but it's all nonsense obviously. Where he got it...she genuinely has no idea sure but..ha it's fine?
-Juliana comments on the fact he has a purple blue tinge around his mouth and eyes which is rather consistent with a poison type user [ Atticus Quinley back home has the same ] but as far as she can tell... He doesn't have one? Huh? As Amerys explains - the Underwater ventilation system makes it so gas like attacks such as poison are strictly forbidden from within the Terrarium : Even the poison types few as they are within its walls have been altered to not be able to use attacks such as poison powder or poison gas. It is a safety issue.
*****
Author note:
"The Pom Pom files" is a T rated verging on new Adult canon divergent retelling of "The indigo Disk" based around the numerous rumors and "what if" scenarios that filled the Pokemon fandom for months. Oh what could have been.
I am working on the character concept art for the entire cast gradually but I figured may as well get the big one done: The Antagonist- first.
You can read it here but please note as it has only just started we have some character set up for the protagonists ( the crater crew) to get through first. I.e. Shoujo hyjinks.
9 notes · View notes
teruel-a-witch · 2 years
Text
what if one day steve and danny stumble into what they think is a crime scene but actually turns out to be the production of a cop tv show and the more they find out about the show the more familiar all the details seem until they realise to their horror that someone is making a tv show about a fictionalised version of their team. of course it's highly sensationalised and inaccurate but has just enough details for it to feel creepy and make steve and danny suspect someone they know has fed the production some information. (jerry, it was definitely jerry)
turns out they can't shut it down because all personal information has been changed and there's not enough actual accuracy in the show to impact their procedure/operations since the viewers don't care about accuracy so much as entertainment and interpersonal relationships between characters.
they are, however, welcome to stay and watch the filming as long as they don't interfere. it's actually a bit amusing to watch their all too familiar banter from the outside, danny grins and pointedly looks at steve when his counterpart lectures his partner about recklessly risking his life and steve smirks when his calls danny's 'a nagging wife' which makes danny huff and glare adorably.
nothing could've prepared them to what they saw next, when their characters' usual heated argument suddenly turns into them making out against the wall in the interrogation room right in front of the 'suspect'.
their simultaneous 'what the hell?' startles everyone but the writer and director defend their choice 'just because it didn't happen like that with you guys doesn't mean we aren't allowed some creative license and our viewers respond well to passion. especially since two episodes ago captain o'malley finally confessed his undying love for his partner and sergeant walters reciprocated they are supposed to be unable to keep their hands off of each other. just like you were, i imagine, when you first succumbed to the obvious attraction between you two. all that flirting couldn't be for nothing.'
afterwards danny is quiet and steve angrily promises to have a word with jerry. when they confront him steve asks why, on top of everything, would jerry say that steve and danny are a couple? they are in for another shock when jerry says that he didn't. apparently the production team just assumed, based on all the details and behaviour, because it made more sense for their characters to be romantically involved rather than not.
steve is rattled because he feels exposed but the absence of danny's ranting is worrying so he overcomes his fear to ask what's wrong. danny surprises him with how small and resigned he sounds when he murmurs 'is the idea of being in love with me really so off-putting to you??'
steve realizes his reaction was misinterpreted and ended up hurting danny's feelings so now he has to risk admitting the truth even if it means making things awkward because he can't stand danny thinking he's not worthy of his or anyone else's love.
he never realised he was that obvious and being confronted with the opposite made him act defensively. 'i was bitter, and resentful, it felt like they were throwing what i could never have in my face. how unlikely is it to be hopelessly in love with your best friend and have him magically reciprocate? the chances are probably one in a billion'.
steve is afraid he made things awkward with his confession and tries to leave a speechless danny, until he is stopped with a hand on his wrist and a blinding smile. 'you big oaf, did it never occur to you that i am your one in a billion? now let's make our fictional selves jealous.'
once they are done making up for lost time they send jerry a gift basket.
158 notes · View notes
fanfic-phoenix · 7 months
Text
QuinObi Week 2023, Day 5 - Author!AU
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 910
Read on AO3
“Correct.”  Obi-Wan’s smile turned into a grin, and he held out a… something.  “Have a torch.”
“How do you think they’ve set us up?”
The man at the table next to Quinlan’s startled, head jerking as if coming out of a trance.  It was dull enough right now to put anyone to sleep, but Quinlan still felt a slight flash of guilt.
“Sorry?” said the man.
“It’s not by genre.”  Quinlan gestured to his own noir-style detective/spy fare, and then to the man’s own grisly looking covers.
The man smiled.  “Assuredly not.  Perhaps alphabetically?”
“Vos, Quinlan,” he said.
“Ah.  Kenobi, Ben.  Or rather, Obi-Wan.”  Ben or rather Obi-Wan smiled.  “If you can guess which is the pen name, you can have one of the very strange merchandise… things that Mr Palpatine has lumbered me with.”
“Ben.”
“Correct.”  Obi-Wan’s smile turned into a grin, and he held out a… something.  “Have a torch.”
Quinlan took it, inspected it, and raised an eyebrow.  “Is it plot relevant?”
“No.  Not a single torch is mentioned.  I was trying my hand at Sci-Fi; everything’s bioluminescent.”
He clicked the button a few times.  “Does it even work?”
“I don’t think so.  I haven’t managed it.”
“Wow.”
“Indeed.”
Republic Books was underfunded, even by Indie standards, but this was rather pushing it.  Quinlan shook his head.  “Honestly, sometimes I think he wants us to fail.”
Obi-Wan hummed.  “I confess he’s never seemed particularly enthusiastic about books.  Or writing.  Or people.”
“Or anything.”
They both laughed, a little hollow, and glanced as one to the clock.
“I’m scheduled for another six hours,” Quinlan said.
“I’m afraid I am, too.”  Obi-Wan sighed, stretched his neck until it popped.  “My brother is bringing coffee in one hour.”
“My sister’s doing the same.  And some biscuits.”
Obi-Wan nodded appreciatively.  “Very wise.  I take it this isn’t your first rodeo?”
“No,” he said.  “The third.  Maybe fourth.  You?”  He dismissed his next line as too much, then said it anyway.  “I’d definitely remember seeing you here.”
“Flatterer,” Obi-Wan said.  He did not sound disapproving.  “This is my first.  I’ve been able to beg off on account of my father before.  He was ill, but now he’s better.”
“You could lie.”
“I could,” Obi-Wan said, “but then I wouldn’t have been here to talk to you, and that would be a shame.”
“Flatterer,” Quinlan said.
Time ticked on.  Visitors were few and far between, and usually more interested in the other authors scattered about the hall.
“Master Yoda has a new philosophy book out,” Obi-Wan said as another three people walked by without acknowledging either of them.  “I imagine most people are here for him.”
“Maybe,” Quinlan said.  “But I think Mace Windu has a new play.”
“Mace has a play out?”  Obi-Wan tutted.  “He might have told me.”
“You know him?”
“Since childhood; he’s friends with my father.”
“Nice.”  Quinlan may or may not have been a dedicated follower of Mace Windu’s work and may or may not have owned a copy of every play, but he wasn’t going to admit it now, when he was fairly sure he was flirting.  Semi-successfully, too.  “Do you want to swap books?”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
“We both have plenty spare.”
“True.”  He seemed to be considering it.  “Alright.”
Obi-Wan’s book was good.  Very good.  It had an easy sort of prose Quinlan would ordinarily race through, and the descriptions were vivid without lagging.  The problem, unfortunately, was that Ben Kenobi was a prolific and celebrated horror writer, and Quinlan Vos was allergic to horror.
He cleared his throat.  “It’s good.”
“Hm?”  Obi-Wan blinked at him, then smiled, focussing.  “Sorry.  I was just at the part where he discovers the true identity of the informant.”
Quinlan gaped.  “That’s almost halfway through.”
Obi-Wan blushed lightly.  “It’s compelling.  In fact I…”  He pursed his lips, then pushed on.  “I’m afraid I race through almost all of your books.”
“You what?”
“You heard me,” he said with a sniff.  “Anyway, I suggest we trade back.  I can see you flinching from here.”
“Sorry-”
“Don’t be.  I take utter fear as a complement.”  He smiled, as if to prove that he really wasn’t offended.  “I just don’t see the point in extending your suffering.”
“It is good,” he said, “but let’s get back to the fact I’m apparently sitting next to a super fan.”
Obi-Wan snorted.  “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“So you’re not a fan?”
Obi-Wan Kenobi - excellent writer, apparently not a super-fan, and Quinlan’s crush for all of forty minutes - flicked him a supremely dry look.  “If I take an early lunch and kiss you stupid for the twenty minutes it takes our siblings to bring coffee, will you hush about my literary tastes?”
Quinlan just about choked on his tongue.  “I-  Yes?  Yeah.  Definitely.”
“Wonderful.”  He placed an almost disturbingly cheerful Back Soon! sign on his table.  “Come on then.”
He hurried after him into the dark corner of the staircase behind the Staff Only banner.  “This is the first time anyone’s kissed me just to shut me up.”
“I’m kissing you because you’re hot and good company,” Obi-Wan corrected.  “Shutting you up is a side effect.”
“Oh,” he said.
“And if you’re amenable,” Obi-Wan continued, “I’ll take you to dinner once we’re no longer contractually obliged to remain in the building.”
“I’m amenable,” he said.
“Good.”  Obi-Wan nodded in a self-satisfied sort of way, and set to the business of kissing him silly.
It was, in Quinlan’s opinion, the best publicity event he’d ever been forced into.
Tagging: @quinobiweek
Thanks for a great week!!
13 notes · View notes
clay-cuttlefish · 8 months
Text
Forging ahead with 52. #19 to #38. It's so much.
#19
The Evil Skeets plot is great. According to the omnibus it was a very late change away from a generic broken-time story, and I can kinda see that with how some of the earlier evil Skeets behavior doesn't seem super purposeful, but it all works for me.
#20
Mostly spaceguy plot that I don't care much about. The fight's cool at least.
I have no idea what fan speculation was like at the time but the idea of Supernova Jason Todd conspiracy theories is extremely funny so I support the intentional red herrings here.
#21
I keep changing my mind on which storylines I like more as I go. How could I not love Natasha?
#22
Dr. Magnus is back! I wish him being bipolar was handled more sensitively, the whole "oh the medicine keeps me from going ~crazy~" thing is :/, but I'm willing to read it charitably as his own perspective because I like him. He's a psychotic DC character who's heroic and not spooky or magical, just a guy who really doesn't want to have another depersonalization episode and has some internalized sanism about it, it could be so much worse.
#23
I like that Vic's more jaded to the horrors he can't stop than Renee is. He's had a lot of time to get used to the idea he can't save everyone - back in his own book he would've thrown himself in harm's way just like she wants to, but he's gotten better at not starting fights he can't win.
Hate to give Geoff Johns credit for anything but "What the hell are you doing?" "Seeing if it's contagious." is really good.
#24
"We were both guilty of ignoring Ted" Pretty sure Booster nearly died because he dropped everything to help but okay.
Osiris is just a kid...
Introducing a First Nations hero just to kill him off and give his stuff to a white dude sucks.
#25
Alan's out of the spaceguy zone and doing his own thing.
Almost halfway and the threads are still only starting to link up.
#26
I cannot get enough of Vic and Renee being friends with the Black Marvels. It's very sweet!
Tot my friend Tot :)
This is just a nice moment for them.
#27
I'm very into how Evil Skeets is drawn. He manages to be expressive despite having no moving features, it's a good trick.
Ohhh no it's now. I thought I had another issue, but no, this is the turning point.
#28
THE QUESTIONS!!! Love how they're heckling Kate together.
Kate is so cool.
Oh right, the spaceguys are still here.
#29
The way the mad science island handles mental illness generally sucks, but it's almost hitting at something interesting with Will being forced off his medication for the sake of "creativity".
#30
Get out of here Bruce.
I am going to cry!
#31
I don't even dislike the spaceguys really, but cmon, more of Ralph or Nat would've been better.
Ralph's still a detective even at his lowest! Strong foreshadowing.
#32
Uh oh, Ralph.
#33
Ohhh Charlie.
Him hallucinating Myra? Only able to admit he loved her at the very end?? It takes me out!
Almost all of his dialogue is straight from the O'Neil run. Rucka describes rereading the entire run just to write this issue because he had to get this right, and it shows.
There's a reason I consider O'Neil and Rucka the essential Question writers, and all the other takes to be interesting sidenotes.
#34
The kids aren't doing so well.
aaaaaaaa
#35
Hands you a picture of Nat. Hands you a picture of Nat. Hands you a picture of Nat.
Lex is the best villain in 52 and it isn't even close to a competition.
#36
AAAAAAA
Fuck dude! Nothing coherent to say here! Look at them!
#37
Wild emotional roller coaster for me as I go from Renee agony to cheering about Booster. My first read of this was a Time.
It's such a fun mystery. I can confirm it works if you know nothing about comics and are just along for the ride, and it comes together so well on the reread.
Mayor Ollie!
#38
AAAAAAA
"I'm afraid of who I'll become without you..." How am I meant to be normal about this!
I had to read this in two pieces because it made me need to get up and pace. It has done this every time I have read it. I am physically incapable of being normal about this.
Head in my hands. Comics are good and worth reading actually.
8 notes · View notes
Text
I feel like as a writer I'm such a coward. I want to write things, but I hold myself back because I'm afraid of people finding out I'm a fucked up little guy. I know, academically, that every one who puts themselves out will end up tried on public opinion. I know that doesn't mean I'm a bad person, just because there's a chance for a pitch fork mob. But I'm still I guess "ashamed"? Afraid the church will burn me at the stake for writing romance like a Ludo song? Ashamed people I know will see that I do - in fact - have dark and scary thoughts? As if they don't already know I have edge-lord characters??? Do I fear I am unlovable if I write a fucked up thing? Am I so programmed to be the "Respectable Oldest Daughter" that these ideas must die with me?!
How do I free myself from this fear? I want to write messed up romance, the kind of true love on the torture rack that Morticia and Gomez had, I want to write the horrors that killed people and splayed out their insides before my scifi MC. I want to admit the world is terrifying and beautiful in horrific and yet conquerable ways! But I hesitate, choke myself back, write only things that you could show a 10 year old without giving them nightmares.
But I had nightmares as a 10 year old. I saw things that made me afraid. I imagined things that haunted me, that chased me in the dark. I know fear and I have faced it. Why am I so afraid of showing that? Why am I afraid of being perceived, when that the point of writing?!?
7 notes · View notes
jacobb99 · 1 year
Text
I saw something strange at my local Astro-Mart
I need to share this story with someone. I’ve tried sharing it in other places but my posts either get removed or I get labled as some kind of amature horror writer. Even if I’m taken seriously I just get told I imagined the whole thing. I don't know what to believe anymore. All I know is that I need some kind of answer, some kind of explanation.
I'm a recent college graduate with a bachelor's degree in accounting, and I'm currently unemployed. I've been applying for jobs at local firms and other places, but so far, I haven't had any luck. During the day, I spend my time checking job listings online and in the local newspaper. At night, I take walks around my neighborhood. It's still a bit chilly, but the weather is pleasant for walking at night this time of year. I usually stop at a convenience store called "Astro-Mart" to buy chips and soda before heading home to play games. The guy who runs the night-shift is named Antonio, a chubby Eastern European-looking man. I never knew if he was on drugs or something, but he was always paranoid and twitchy.
Last week, I was walking with my headphones on, listening to the new Guilty Gear Strive song "Circle" (the best one on the soundtrack in my opinion) when I saw Antonio waving at me from inside the store. I didn't know him well, but I went inside anyway. Antonio looked pale, more freaked out than usual, and whispered, "Doode, there's a weird dog wandering around. I called animal control, and they said to stay indoors because it probably has the rabies."
As I tried to process what he said, he suddenly lunged forward and slammed the glass door shut, with such force I am surprised it didn’t shatter. I jumped back and looked around, trying to find the reason for his sudden reaction. I noticed that Antonio was twitching more than ever, and he was holding a shotgun. I panicked; I was trapped in a tiny store with a man who looked nuttier than a squirrel with a hording problem and right now he was holding a 12 gage. I thought to myself “this is it, he’s gonna blow my brains out to kill the lizard people or some other crap that’s probably rattling around in his drug-addled brain. I would have continued thinking that way if I hadn't followed Antonio's gaze.
On the sidewalk outside, there was a creature. It wasn't a dog, that was for sure. It had a dog-like head, but that was where the similarity ended. The creature had no fur, and it had multiple heads, not like a Cerberus or a two-headed snake, but more like someone had sewn together a bunch of animal heads to make one body. Like some kind of weird rolled up animal head quilt. It had a long, thin tail like a rat and legs that looked like those of a shoebill but shorter.
I am not afraid to admit I wet myself.
The thing started slamming itself into the door, causing it to crack. Antonio waved the gun at the creature and told it to "fuck off!" but just as he did that it ran off, I had a moment of relief only to see it running back, it slammed headfirst into the glass door, causing the glass to shatter into thousands of little bits. Antonio took a shot at the thing and I’m pretty sure I went deaf for a few seconds. After that I did the only sensible thing and ran to find somewhere to hide, but it was probably the worst decision I could have made that night.
I mean the thing had already seen me and there wasn’t exactly that many places to hide, maybe the bathroom or between the isles but that was about it. However that didn’t matter, my caveman brain was in control and it said go hide. However at me taking flight the damn thing started chasing me. Antonio took two more shots at it. One hit the creature spraying the far wall with greenish black blood, and the other caused the coffee machine next to me to rupture, spilling hot coffee everywhere. I turned the corner to get on the other side of the island thing that had the hot dog rollers, and I saw the Smorgasbeast (what I’m going to call the thing just for my own sake of writing all this down) slip on the spilled coffee. If I weren't panicking so badly, it would have been funny, it had that look on its face that dogs get when they loose all traction on a tile floor and start freaking out, except it was on all its faces.
As I was talking, I suddenly noticed the Smorgasbeast slipping on the spilled coffee and colliding with one of the refrigerators that hold the milk and other perishables. It's always a mystery how half of them are already expired yet they think they can get away with calling it “fresh food”. Anyway, apologies for getting sidetracked. So, when I turned back to the Smorgasbeast, I saw it floundering on the coffee-covered floor, struggling to gain any footing with its silly bird feet. Just then, Antonio walked up and smacked it on the head with the butt of his shotgun. The Smorgasbeast fell to the ground, twitching slightly, and Antonio went to finish it off with a shot to the head.
However, Antonio missed the main head that resembled a dog if you squinted, and instead hit the one that looked more like a pig. The Smorgasbeast bit his leg, and he screamed in pain, using his shotgun as a club to defend himself. Suddenly, the store was filled with flashing red and blue lights. Before I could think "thank God, we are saved," a sharp pain hit the back of my neck, and everything went black.
When I came to, I was lying in the back of an ambulance with two paramedics standing over me, securing an oxygen mask to my face. Before I could ask any questions, one of them instructed me to remain still and take slow, deep breaths. The paramedic explained that I was a victim of a carbon monoxide leak, and I needed to relax. Despite my attempts to inquire about Antonio or the Smorgasbeast, the paramedic kept insisting that I take deep breaths.
After spending two days in the hospital, encased in a strange tube thing that was supposed to get the monoxide out of me somehow, I was discharged with a hefty bill. I never received any answers regarding what occurred, apart from being informed of the carbon monoxide leak. This explanation didn't make sense, and I was left feeling unsure. I returned to the Astro-Mart the following night to investigate, but it was closed with a sign on the now-repaired door that read, "Due to short staff, we will be closing at 5 pm. We apologize for the inconvenience."
I'm unsure if any of it was real. I would prefer to believe the carbon monoxide explanation, but it still doesn't feel right. I'm baffled and searching for answers. If anyone can help me understand what happened, please let me know.
9 notes · View notes
nettlestingsoup · 1 year
Note
Hi morgan <33333 hope you're doing well :D
1,2,5,6,8,9,17,18,30,31,38,44,49 for the fanfic writer asks <333
hi evy! i'm doing ok! looking forward to getting some rest over christmas!
1 and 8: answered here for honey!
2: answered here for fien!
5: i’ve been writing stories in general since i was about six? my sister started writing stories, and obviously i had to copy her, and then i just... never stopped. i started writing fic in 2018 sometime when i met my stay friends at uni! it was a nice way to bond with them while we were still getting to know each other, and they’re now some of the few people i trust to show my writing to when it’s unfinished and imperfect.
6: writing has done a lot of good work for my mental health, i think! it encourages me to look inwards and consider why i’m writing the themes i am or just gives me an outlet for bad emotions rather than turning them inwards. it’s done wonders for my confidence over the years, too; i think it’s something that even i can’t deny that i’m fairly good at, and it’s good to have that when my brain tries to tell me that i’m mediocre at everything.
9: i’m terrible with writing to deadlines, so not really. i might set deadlines for editing, but my writing is often so unpredictably long that i couldn’t write to a deadline if i tried (the thing i tried to write in time for my friend’s birthday? it might be done by her next birthday. in october 2023. maybe.)
17: i love fantasy AUs as a whole really, but i’m always drawn to vampire AUs! the only reason i haven’t written one of my own is because i think there are far too many good ones, and i worry that i wouldn’t be able to come up with something unique enough to match up.
18: i really love writing seungchan? i think it’s partially that they’re my favourite members to write, and partially that they’re the members who can often come across as most serious (although they’ve both been silly in interviews lately) and so i feel like i can put them in slightly darker stories. seungbin and jeongchan are creeping up the list though.
30: the hardest part of writing happens once i’m about 80% of the way through a story; i’ve done most of the fun worldbuilding by that point, and most of the very emotional scenes have to give way to Actual Plot before i can write an emotional ending. it’s the point in a fic where i’m most likely to get bored and have to drag myself through the writing process.
31: big descriptive scenes! i love sitting and describing things, it’s a wonderful exercise in creativity and it allows me to set a scene really well. i love the experience of choosing which words to use to set the tone of a story; i’d describe the same forest using very different wording in a faerie fantasy au to a horror fantasy au for example, and it comes very naturally to me to just sit and set the scene before any pesky characters or dialogue get involved.
38: all the time! occasionally i get nostalgic for my own concepts, or reminded of them by friends or ao3 comments, and i’ll reread sections or whole fics then. it sounds a little arrogant, but sometimes my own fics are the only ones that scratch the itch for very specific content in my brain. it makes sense, i suppose. i wrote them exactly to my own taste, after all.
44: i tend to write linear these days! i’ll definitely plan future scenes (with the orchid, for example, i’d been waiting for weeks to get to the scene where minho admits he’d deactivate his own emotional processor if seungmin got hurt) but i tend to leave them hanging there as incentive to write the scenes leading up to them.
49: i guess the writing advice i’d give is to not be afraid of being a little bit weird? just genuinely write how you want to write, not in a way you think is good or that people will like. i find writing a lot more fun and fulfilling when i let myself use the bizarre metaphors and odd descriptors that i actually want to, rather than worrying that people won’t like or understand it.
thank you for asking these! they were a lot of fun; this ask game actually has a lot of really good ones. <3
4 notes · View notes
oonajaeadira · 2 years
Note
Adira, Queen of Soft Feels and Happy Endings, I have an utterly ridiculous request:
Please reassure me?
I adore Pedro and all of the Pedro boys fic writers but I am TERRIFIED of zombies. Just thinking too much about them makes me feel sick. So I will probably have to steer clear of TLOU which makes me quite sad, but what makes me sadder is what if all the wonderful Pedro boys writers just start writing only TLOU fic (which I’m sure will be amazing) and I can’t even read it because of my phobia 😞.
I am NOT me trying to police ANYONE’S writing, the TLOU fics will undoubtedly be incredible. I think I am having that feeling of the older sibling being afraid they will be forgotten when the new baby arrives.
So my very silly, illogical request for reassurance is:
Please reassure me that these wonderful, talented, fantastic fic writers (yourself included, of course) are still probably going to also write some other Pedro boys fic after TLOU is released?
(I know you all likely will and I am being very silly - but life is tough and I fear losing my comforting fantasy spaces.)
❤️ - @lilfanficthings
OMGTS 100%.
I will admit that I'm a zombie girl. They're some of my favorite monsters, but for the same reason you dislike them--I'm absolutely terrified of them. I have been watching and loving horror films since loonnnnnng before I really should have been allowed to, so I have a deep love of the genre, but I also have calluses and am very hard to scare. In the moment, yes, I can be freaked out and I love love love a good scare. But very little horror lingers with me and even fewer things scar me. Zombies, though, they get to my psyche. They poke that shiver trigger in me like nothing else. And so I deeply appreciate them.
However. As someone with anxiety, I understand that some folks can't do the horror. I get that. And while I will probably lean into some of the infected stuff if I get to writing about Joel--because it goes along with protective Joel and that's got my heart purring--I'll totally tag anything both that's infected-ful and infected-free. Because you know I'm gonna write some soft Joel stuff. You know I will. Hell. That man might become the basis for my first true AU....
But hells yes, I'm going to still be writing other characters. I'm not done with the Bookshop or Din or Whiskey and his Techmate. I'm only two chapters into Branded and I'm still deeply in love with Pero. Don't even get me started with Javi. Do not.
And...I haven't really spilled the beans on this new project I'm working on, but let's just say that it involves a lot of the other boys. I can't and won't give up on our loves.
I don't think other writers will either. Whenever a new character hits, there's a glut of fic for them. But there's also a lot of writers that get overwhelmed with the crowd and take the opportunity to go into a quiet corner and play with some of the wayward boys. There will be plenty of fic to be had. And remember, every time Pedro premieres a new role, the fandom grows. So there will be more fic coming overall, I'm sure of it!!!!
Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
bl-garbage · 4 years
Text
i’m not over Gaya sa Pelikula episode 5. the sheer layers of storytelling we have, and i know you all have pointed them out. long post incoming:
employed foreshadowing in the two horror stories and the events that later followed. from the story of the nurse seeing the cadaver in his own closet to Vlad seeing the photo of a young Karl, now a grown man and so different from the child he once was; and from the man looking at his own self holding his own heart, to Karl holding his own heart as he looked at himself in the mirror. these are not horror stories -- they are real. in the next episode, we will find the consequences of these actions.
the brownout as a device. do we not tell our stories in the dark? queer people have long been used to telling stories in this familiar place. they do not dare to tell it under the sun, for all of the world to see because stories like theirs are resented just for being. this drinking session in the dark, when no one is around and anyone else is out of earshot, that is when stories so honest, so brutal and unabashedly true, are released. this scene was beautiful and cathartic.
anna is no plot device. she’s a beautiful, multilayered, flawed character. who would have thought anna was a mom? i know i’m surprised. and yet the writer did not leave her be only to be a friend for comedic purposes. she was there to tell her own story, like everyone else does. she has agency as a woman, and for an 8-episode series that bills itself as a BL series it is really commendable to grasp the complexity of all its characters, not let them be tossed aside. and you know what? Vlad even shined in this scene. women and queer people have long stood side by side, aware and empathic of their fundamental disadvantages in society. the queer struggle is rooted in the victories of the feminist struggle, after all, and in this scene we zoom in on just how that takes form, even in the simplest of ways. just look at how Vlad immediately accepts anna’s story, and does not even judge her. 
Tumblr media
the effortless gender sensitivity. the episode does its best to quash stigmas in the queer community itself. when Karl said, for instance, that In fairness, Vlad, you’re not obviously effeminate, Vlad was quite quick to correct him, and here we see an innocent Karl simply accepting his mistake, saying sorry, and intently listening when Vlad goes on to explain where he went wrong. in that moment we were all anna, smiling in sheer excitement that this kind of thing casually happens, for is that not what queer people fear at time? that even when you know better and want to correct other people for their mistakes, you'd still second guess yourself or choose if it's even okay or perhpas you're imposing your own ideals on another person. yet, Gaya sa Pelikula does away with that and shows that, ihdeed, ignorance is not cured by anger, but education. what Karl said is a common microaggression against the queer community that unfortunately, many shows (BLs, even) fall prey to. Gaya sa Pelikula is not only good plot-wise, but it is also careful to weigh its options of which important lessons it needs to impart. it is proof that BL shows shouldn’t be just for entertainment; they must advance change.  
from the dark, to the blinding light. the rather smooth transition from Karl having to teach Vlad and Vlad even stepping on Karl, with Karl taking the lead; and then, to the prom they had in their minds: beautiful, well-lit, but only for them. a dream come true for Vlad—for any queer person deprived of the simple joys, of something as simple as the privilege to dance. the hope of things getting better.
Karl took the lead at first, but then Vlad did. in the beginning, it was Karl who led a reticent Vlad to the prom dance; yet, when they donned the suits and danced in the light, the roles changed. Vlad was taking the lead. it was as though, when Karl opened up to Vlad and practically told him, ‘it’s okay to be yourself with me,’ that gave Vlad the license to really be himself, be confident and free to express what he felt, share what he knew. note that during the transition, Vlad was at first so surprised by the lights! he did not know that things could turn out so good for him and Karl, and yet it was halpening. so he was so confident, leading Karl in the dance, to make Karl feel what he feels. he even said, “simplehan na lang natin (let’s make things simple).” i find meaning in that, too: see, Vlad has known himself to be gay since high school, but here we have Karl who does not even begin to question for himself who and what he is. Vlad knows this. he even sang, ever so softly into Karl’s ears, as if to say that it’s okay if you're only beginning your journey now. things are discovered, one step at a time.
Tumblr media
in the end, karl was smiling. confused, but happy. holding his heart, beating so loud, karl does not know what to feel. is that not the experience of every queer person? to know that, perhaps for the first time ever, things are “different” from what they've been conditioned to believe? and yet the most confusing thing is that it feels good and freeing and warm. in the dark, when no one is around, Karl felt his heart, saw his own reflection, and even though he does not admit it yet, Karl knows he is happy. this is the true turning point of the story. i am quite sure we'll experience the sadness next episode, so be sure to be ready.
i am just so overwhelmed by Gaya sa Pelikula. it is not only aesthetically beautiful, but is also filled with nuances that i am not afraid to look more into it. perhaps i have been too saturated with a lot of just fun, but really nonsensical BLs, that i almost forgot that those shouldn’t be the standard. instead, we deserve ones that truly cater to our needs, tell our stories, and make a shot for things going to be better. to be sure, Gaya sa Pelikula was written by a queer screenplay writer himself, which only confirms the need for more stories told by queer people, for queer people.
Tumblr media
Gaya sa Pelikula does what others are not doing. and so much more.
there are three more episodes, but i have no doubt that it will turn out excellent, far exceeding yet again my already high expectations.
in the aftermath of episode 5, i hark back to what juan miguel severo, the show’s writer and producer, had promised: “We will take back our story!”
and, indeed,  through this episode, he proves that he already has.
622 notes · View notes
anonil88 · 3 years
Text
Malcolm and Marie live blog
I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.
Spoilers ahead!!
I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.
A tune indeed.
When you are high and drunk on success and
How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.
Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.
So he's pretentious and unaware.
Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.
Can this nigga stop pacing.
Also can he stop talking;
Tumblr media
Marie is so tired and unimpressed.
Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.
Oooo the tension and the jazz.
Title Card over mac and cheese.
Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.
Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.
John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.
Guilty confession?
He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....
Tumblr media
If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.
GASLIGHTER!
The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.
Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.
He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.
If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.
I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.
70s vibes! 70s vibes!
Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.
Women really are behind every great man.
Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.
Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.
She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.
Tumblr media
Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.
I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.
Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?
The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.
Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.
Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.
Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.
Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.
So she's conditional.
Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.
Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba
He is so hurtful.
A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.
Tumblr media
John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.
He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.
Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.
This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.
They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.
Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.
The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.
He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.
Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄
ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.
Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.
He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.
Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.
He ain't even ask her to read?
One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)
Tumblr media
You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.
Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)
But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.
To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.
Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.
CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.
I love Marie yep that was amazing.
Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)
He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.
Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.
I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.
Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.
Marie to herself and the audience:
Tumblr media
He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.
The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5
Oh shit this is my song,
Tumblr media
Ratings/overall thoughts:
Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.
Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.
Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.
John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.
Cinematography: A and a participation award.
The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.
Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.
The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.
258 notes · View notes
crimsonrae · 3 years
Text
Say My Name
Tumblr media
Summary: When Death’s heart breaks.
Henry Cavill AUxOC
Rating: E
Warning: It is terribly angst ridden. Supernatural themes.
A/N: So..... It’s been a minute. I’ve had some writers block, not gonna lie. However, I did have a little inspiration tonight and popped this little angsty morsel out. I would like to credit Meet Joe Black and Emily Dickinson for this bit of inspiration.
Poem credit: Emily Dickinson: Because I Could Not Stop For Death.
xXx
This was a mistake.
He was bound to make one sometime, he supposed.  
But it didn’t feel like a mistake and he couldn’t say that he would have changed one thing if he had the power of time – the ability to turn back the clock and do things over again. He would openly admit that he would do it all again. Experience everything over.... if only to hold on to the fragile, exquisite joy and love that had blossomed with in his shriveled heart.
Even though it left him here... in quiet agony as he stared into the dark realization and innate fear that his mere presence instinctively caused. He had lied enough; it was up to her whether she wanted to accept the truth.
“You’re...?” Her lips trembled, unable to voice the words. Unable to give reality to the thought. It was so far-fetched. Muted horror welled in her gut, quelled only by the visceral scream of denial in her ear, “You’re...?”
He stood there, ever patient as he waited for the final blow to land. He knew what was to come. The distaste and need to get away from him, once she accepted what he was – what she had fallen in love with. It hurt already and wasn’t that strange?  
He had never understood this kind of pain before – he felt like a piece of paper that had been torn and turned into bland confetti. Stranger still was how that pain matter so little in the face of hers. He wanted nothing more than to reach for her, to comfort her and in so doing – comfort himself. Yet, uncertainty grasped his limbs. It would hurt him more should she reject his touch now and so he kept still. Afraid for the first time... Well, for the first time.
She surprised him when instead, she reached for his cheek. Her delicate fingers soothing the faint grizzle of his cheek as if checking to make sure he was real. He nearly closed his eyes to that touch, but he couldn’t. His gaze remained blank, because even as she forced a smile the truth lurked in her gleaming orbs.
“You’re Henry.” She breathed at last, and he was struck.
Unholy surprised and yet...not. A faint sense of bitterness coalesced within his borrowed veins and he smiled dully. Denial it was.
Perhaps...Perhaps, it was kinder. He smiled in surrender as he let his quiet pain surge and pressed his lips to her palm, “Yes...I am Henry.”
She swallowed tightly and leaned into his touch as she tried to ignore a wave of grief – unsure if it was his or hers that she was feeling. All she knew was that she didn’t want to let him go.  
Henry trailed his mouth from her silky hand to her gentle lips, claiming a kiss that felt cold and tasted salty – though neither had shed a tear. It was painful and he wanted more than anything to prolong that touch, but too soon she pulled away.
A wild desperation spurring her tongue, “Don’t say goodbye.”
He tightened the hand that had come to rest on her hip. Imprinting her curves into his memory as he nodded, “No goodbye, merely an I love you... we should -”
He didn’t know the words, didn’t know what to do, but he needed to go. Time had run out. She took his lead and smiled.  
Heading for the bathroom as she held heartily onto the last vestiges of denial, “Oh yes! We need to get ready for the performance tonight. I’m taking the shower first – you used all the hot water last time. Unless... you want to join me?”
He chuckled and shook his head, “Probably not the best idea right now.”
He would have if she had been able to say his true name. Had accepted him.
A rueful snort echoed back at him as she disappeared from view, “You’re right. You’ll make us late.”
“Yes.” He murmured and listened for the sound of the shower.
It wasn’t until the steady roar of the spray became impeded by her frame that he knew it was time to leave. He gathered his belongings and slipped out the door and was long gone by the time her shower ended.  
No goodbyes.
She stayed under the steamy spray for an hour as she let the water wash away her tears. Almost cruelly, she heard his voice as an old poem a washed her thoughts.
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –  
And what a stop it was.
A ragged sob tore through her throat as she whispered, “I love you, Death.”  
139 notes · View notes
yilingburialmounds · 3 years
Text
Fics Featuring Some Yiling Laozu (either literally or just The Vibes)
Calling Heaven by mondengel
Lan Wangji had not wanted to come at all.
Lan Wangji-centric and short but extremely chilling. Post the First Seige of the Burial Mounds, and it has some great horror vibes.
The waters and the wild by SecretStorm
Lan Wangji has grown up hearing stories of the feared Yiling Laozu, who kidnaps young boys--including his childhood best friend, Wei Ying.
When a Lan child is taken, Lan Wangji travels to the Yiling Laozu's lair in the Burial Mounds.
He does not find what he expected.
Another Lan Wangji-centric piece, featuring Wei Wuxian as a figure similar to the Pied Piper, with a great deal of the fic featuring Lan Wangji terrified for the safety of those in the Burial Mounds. The vibes are this fic are phenomenal, do check them out!
Scrimshaw by Verse
"Is it true that you were sent to Burial Mound? How did you make it out alive?"
"I didn't." he replied, and never said which question he was answering.
This fic delivers some absolute chills! It short and sweet and to the point, and it builds up to the revelations wonderfully. (Honestly, Verse has some very good MDZS horror fics! Check them out!)
Replicatum by ghostdove (sarensen)
They say there's nothing alive in the Burial Mounds. That isn’t entirely true.
(Canon divergence Burial Mounds AU: Wei Wuxian gets thrown into the Burial Mounds after losing his golden core. The Wei Wuxian who leaves the forest is not the same.)
Okay, this fic doesn’t really feature any Yiling Laozu characters or any Yiling Laozu vibes, but it features Wei Wuxian’s stay in the Burial Mounds! It has a great surrealist horror vibe - and some plant horror and body horror - and the first time I read it, it took my breath away. The gnawing hopelessness that sets in alongside all the fantastical horror bits is just to die for! (Pun not in intended but greatly appreciated.) Do check it out!
help is on the way by Vamillepudding
“There,” the Yiling Patriarch says. “Now all that’s missing is a throne. Would you like one?”
“I have no interest in ruling,” Lan Wangji says.
“What is it that holds Hanguang-jun’s interest, then?”
Lan Wangji presses his lips together, unwilling to meet the Yiling Patriarch’s gaze.
(The Yiling Patriarch wins. Lan Wangji is left behind on the fields of the dead and appoints himself a task.)
Real surrealist, fairy tale vibe here, folks! Once again, Lan Wangji-centric, but Wei Wuxian has all the features you’d expect from the Yiling Laozu! Including his reluctant but growing feelings for Lan Wangji, of course! Do check it out, it’s phenomenal!
love, in fire and blood by cicer
"You want Wen Ruohan dead," the Patriarch continued idly. "You want his corpse puppets eliminated. You want his halls burned to the ground and his soldiers disemboweled and begging for mercy. Have I about covered it?"
He gave another knife-edged smile.
"But what will you give me in return?"
"We would be willing to offer quite a bit in return for Wen Ruohan's defeat," Lan Xichen admitted. "But I'm afraid we don't know what an immortal such as yourself desires. Please advise us."
The Patriarch waved at hand at the front of the tent. "I want Second Young Master Lan."
(In which the Sunshot Campaign ends through an arranged marriage to the Yiling Patriarch, and Lan Wangji suffers the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with his own husband.)
This fic is, of course, a classic! Cicer is an amazing writer and they have outdone themself yet again with this fic! War prize!Lan Wangji fics are always a delight, and the beginning parts of this fic have such tension and great Vibes(TM), and the latter parts are so soft and yet still so strong. Slow burn at its finest! 
in the face of cruel fate by sunlaozu
> Lan Wangji was slowly starting to understand now.
> The longer he stood in Wei Wuxian's position, the more he learned of the wicked ways of the world, the more he learned that it was simply too difficult to separate the black and white, and why Wei Wuxian had to resort to the demonic arts.
> Because the path of light will not be enough to go against the world.
After Wei Wuxian's death, Lan Wangji becomes the new Yiling Patriarch.
Okay, this isn’t Yiling Laozu!Wei Wuxian, it’s Yiling Laozu!Lan Wangji, and it’s still wonderful! The summary explains the fic pretty well. It’s only one chapter and technically a WIP, but honestly I thought it was complete, that’s how well-made the first chapter is. Do check it out! 
Buried in the Sky, Hallowed by the Depths by themunchking
If you listen, the mountains of Gusu sing in the evening, as the sun is going down.
That’s what they say in Caiyi Town, where the clear and cold mountain streams flow into the lake. The streams are deep, the locals know. They say they carry the melody down from up high. From Cloud Recesses.
There are reasons it is forbidden to enter the Cloud Recesses after dark.
Okay, this technically doesn’t contain any Yiling Laozu characters, but it has The Vibes strewn all over it! Both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s personalities are so dark and alluring, and they’re so incredibly powerful! Do check it out!
i am the storm by everythingispoetry
Yet another thing Lan Zhan's education failed to teach him which he learns from Wei Ying: sometimes, acts of murder can be a love language.
Another Lan Wangji-centric fic featuring Yiling Laozu!Wei Wuxian. It’s A/B/O this time, but don’t let that put you off - it’s a short fic with phenomenal execution and a whole lot of Wei Wuxian taking care of Lan Wangji. Just remember to read all of the tags before diving it!
Frame of Fearsome Symmetry by donutsweeper
When, in a combination of irony and revenge, Wei Wuxian took Wen Zhuliu's core and crushed it, he hadn't expected the result.
(Canon divergent from episode 15 of the donghua.)
The scene in the donghua where Wei Wuxian ripped out and destroyed Wen Zhuliu’s core always gave me the chills, and this fic plays off of that so wonderfully! It’s twisted and I love it, so do check it out!
And that’s all I’ve got for you, folks! I hope these helped you get a lovely dose of Yiling Laozu!
62 notes · View notes
seijorhi · 3 years
Text
asks :))
what i have learned today is that y’all wanna get fucked by some monsters...
What does nostos mean? What language is it in? 🤔 also I of course loved it, mind blown as usual queen
it’s ancient greek! it means homecoming, the idea of a triumphant return home for the hero after a long journey. i found it through looking at the root of nostalgia. in this fic of course it’s kind of a grim tongue in cheek play on it. the reader’s coming back to the mountains, but she’s running away after a bad breakup, and the welcome she gets is... shall we say less than ideal haha
Just read nostos-
First of all as a person who reads monster shit- hell ya. Mhm. That’s some good shit right there. That was DELICIOUS horror. It actually had me a bit nervous and afraid to read what was gonna happen next 😳
Secondly- omg I wanna know what happened next (at the end) 👀 know what I mean??? 😼
ANYWAY AS ALWAYS you never disappoint and your writing is fantastic (if/when you write horror yandere stuff again I’ll be there- frothing at the mouth. A+++++ work ILY💖)
you want me to write the monster porn, just say it bby ghfjdkshgfjkd but ty
Omfg that fic was so good!
Did the readers mom know about monster kuroo?? Or was she just worried because of the previous murder? And did Kuroo somehow manipulate reader into coming back to the forest or was it just a big coincidence? (👁👄👁 there's no such thing as a coincidence)
Looking forward to your future work <3
ty nonnie!! i didn’t have the right space for it, but after kohsuke was ripped apart and eaten kuroo stayed by the reader’s side until late in the night, only disappearing when he heard the reader’s parents/search party approaching. they found her lying in pools of blood (and scattered half eaten body parts), shaking and unresponsive – they knew no animal could’ve done something like that. so they knew something lurked in those woods, but considering the reader had repressed the memories, her mom couldn’t just come out and say it <33
You are an AMAZING horror writer!!!
The uneasiness I got from the conversations with the mom is just *chefs kiss*
A+++++
ahh thank you!! horror is such a hard genre to write because i’m never sure if the suspense and everything’s gonna hit right haha
I read Nostos before going to sleep last night and at the time I was like “sure hope this doesn’t give me nightmares” and thankfully it didn’t lol. But I think I’m willing to take that chance again because it’s so GOOD and I think I’m just going to have to relive it – @ohno-otome
fhdjgbfhjkdfn i’m glad it didn’t give you nightmares bby!! but i also appreciate that haha, i’m an absolute wimp with scary movies and stuff but i just can’t stop watching them haha
I just wanna say that I was listening to "You're a psychotic villain playlist" on youtube while reading Kuroo's oneshot and I can't explain the emotions I felt, but I'd let Kuroo do things to me asdfghjkl – @itishebihime-samaforyou
ooh nice! sometimes the right playlist makes things doubly as fun haha
OH MY GOD!?!?! Nostos was soooo GOOD?!?!? Like it was so creepy (but in a good way), and scary and suspenseful!! And the ending!?!? Omggg honestly one my fav fics from you!! You did my mans Kuroo justice 🥺💖💕
TYYYYYYY i was genuinely concerned i was gonna scare everybody off haha
Ah! The new fic! Chiefs kiss! Magnificent! Bravo!🧚‍♀️✨🧞‍♀️🦖🦭🌹💫
tysm nonnie!!! <33
i’m pretty sure i’m in the same/similar timezone as you? and i do be staying up late to be one of the first to read your fics (i usually stay up late anyways). so imagine my surprise when i see you post in the afternoon. in conclusion, whether you post to align with your european and american readers’ timezone, my gmt+10 arse will still be one of the first to read your fics. also nostos sjdufigyyjf i have to admit, i recently just found out about monster fucking and nostos scratched the itch😫 i feel bad for kohsuke though
bby i always post at like 2-4 in the morning please get some sleep!! the fics will be there in the morning lmao. i kinda low key forget about my aussie/gmt+10 followers because i think there’s like... 3 of you haha
Honestly if i could give u a dollar everytime i got off to your fics, you'd probably be rich by now
lmao the idea that people find my fics hot enough to get off to still blows my mind lol
your newest kuroo fic was so SO good!! its totally okay if you dont want to answer this so you can keep things ambiguous but is monster kuroo planning on killing the reader after he's...done with them
thank you, bby!! but no, monster kuroo isn’t gonna eat her – he’s had plenty of chances to do that if that’s what he wanted, but he has other plans for the poor reader
RHI, I WANT TO STATE FOR THE RECORD THAT I AM OKAY WITH MORE MONSTER FUCKING IN THE FUTURE. i also want to say im not a monster fucker, but that just feels like a lie at this point. okay, now that that's off my chest, i love it. the mystery, the connections of kuroo to a cat. kuroo's probably gonna go and batter around his prey once they're under his grip like my cat does. hopefully the reader will come out somewhat unscathed, if they are ever allowed to leave 😌 love this, love how different it is, the way kuroo just tries to weasel in. very monster and yandere vibes, very you. have i said i love this yet?? id willingly let him get me drunk on his cock, maybe never leave the peace of the mountains again
‘i want to say that i’m not a monster fucker’ bby the denial will get you nowhere haha. just lean in and embrace it hgfjkdlkfgjnkdl ahh but thank you this is such a sweet ask ILY!!!
Omg omg the monster thing kuroo was in ur latest fic is so familiar to me abdhdmfnjfjf. I remember being told abt a monster with VERY SIMILAR characteristics to it (aka the not being able to go inside a house unless invited and using fire to lure ppl out) AND JFC IT TERRIFIED ME. Esp how when i told ppl around me and they didnt recognize what it was, but it was somehow known to the kid that told me abt it.
(Some ppl thought it was familiar but still didnt know what it was)
Do u know what im talking abt? Hopefully u do
-🥚
GHFJDK so the monster in this is kind of based off the nekomata spirit in japanese folklore - they can appear like people, torment victims by reanimating the corpses of their loved ones, they’ve been blamed for forest fires, so it was just fun to use that as a basis and then go buck wild haha. anyway thanks for the ask bby!
Rest In Peace Kohsuke, you would’ve loved Haikyuu season 5😔✊– @joyvstheworld
poor kohsuke deserved better, i’m just mean to the oc’s i throw into fics haha
Monsterfucking ❤❤❤❤❤❤ a little annoyed you're making me simp for yan Kuroo though (a vibe tho tbh). You're so extremely talented!!!! &
This is probably a stupid question, but how did Kageyama react when he couldn't find y/n? How is life with yan Suga? I imagine probably awful BUT yknow maybe the stockholm syndrome set in fast lmao. Sorry, I'm going on a binge reading your stuff. - @oracleofdin
i will not apologise for making you simp for kuroo he deserves it the man’s a snacc. and as far as your second question, suga’s a very caring, very smothering kinda yandere, so i guess in some ways it’s better than what the reader had with kageyama but... pick your poison haha
That was so good. I’m so shook rn I can’t comprehend anything but how good that was and how good a writer you are
TYSM NONNIE!!! <33
Ok, so, I just read Final Girl and the lil' ticket addition to it and just---
Well, ok I've been playing Dead by Daylight a lot lately? And I'm just picturing Tetsu as the newest killer "The Trickster" and I'm positively RANDY.
Your writing is ALREADY thirst inducing and just as satisfying, but this has SENT ME- If you're not familiar, please...
https://youtu.be/iowkiPobYYQ
Understand my thirst. (I'd also like to clarify, I use a different skin for him that gives him black hair and he looks like Kuroo with an undercut.)
~ @the-casual-hedonist 🌸
i love how feral y’all got for final girl kuroo. like bo and akaashi had his fans, but i put a spiked bat in kuroo’s hands and y’all lost your goddamn minds and i love to see it. fghdjkvhfjdkls thanks for the ask bby
idk why but I love preggo reader as long as I don't pretend it's me 😢✋ I hate babies n pregnancy anywhere else other than horny haikyuu fics
i think that’s a valid thing for a lot of fans. the idea of breeding is sexy, the actual getting pregnant and having a kid thing... not so much. but especially with non-con scenario’s, it’s more about the aspect on control than the actual desire to have kids. but yeah, i feel you
Sorry to bother but uh was just wondering in fracture did Osamu kill his wife or was it actually an “unfortunate event” ? Love your work btw!!
he most certainly did :))
LMFAO RHI i totally get not liking cheating/infidelity fics (towards reader) bc IT HIRTS ME SO BAD I CANNOT HANDLE THOSE.
id be reading fics those fics like: tf you mean my yandere aimt gonna baby me and only want me??🤨🤨🤨⁉️‼️
EXACTLY! listen i get that it’s a fucked up fantasy, but in my fucked up fantasy you damn well better have the decency to be loyal smh
Finders keepers is the most beautiful thing I've read by you: I read it twice like I normally do and here's what I figured out the second time (that's when I analyze it and find the little tidbits of things that are much darker than they appear (: )
To start I LOVE THE DETAILS OF THEM NEVER TEACHING READER ANYTHING- at first I assumed "oh they might see her as a little sister or child or something" but realized thAT WAS THE ISSUE!! they infantilize her and isolate her from everyone but her group. the small details like that are what make the story amazing 😎💅
ahh thank you so much, nonnie!! pls this is making me soft 🥺
I just wanted to stop by and say that I love your writing and I hope you're doing well!!! Drink plenty of water and keep up the amazing work :) but seriously you're one of the best fanfic writers I've seen on tumblr! I read your "Imitation" piece about kuroo and i keep coming back to it, it's so good! I did want to ask if you think it'd be possible for the reader to ever escape with the baby (or at least attempt to). Or if Kenma would "help" at all just to put an end to kuroo's antics lmao
kenma would in no way help the reader, and tbh by that point if kuroo did get her pregnant, she’d be far too emotionally dependant on him to actually even want to leave, but thanks for the ask!
You know who I think would be a perfect Yandere in the JJK world? Choso.
🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨
After being locked in a glass jar for however long he was, and all that happened with his brothers, I feel like he would absolutely never let his darling out of his sight. He would be possessive. Obsessive. And Oh So delusional. Sure he’d be your anything - he truly is a softy - but to what end?🤤
choso would make an excellent yandere, ngl 😌
what au/troupe of your fav character(s) that you have written do you like the most?
(rlly hope this makes sense🙏)
i am always a slut for soulmate au’s :))
31 notes · View notes
Text
Shadow & Bone (2021) - Thoughts
After finally finishing, I figured I’d drop my reactions.
1. I love that they changed Alina’s relationship with the First Army. There are people she gets along with outside of just Mal (and Alexei). She has friends there.
2. Also - loving how she takes initiative to get herself assigned to the Fold. I also like that there are consequences to her impulsive actions - her whole regiment gets dragged in with her.
3. The Shadow Fold was beyond terrifying, though I did have to have the brightness at max to even be able to see anything.
4. Why did I cry at “I’ll meet you in the meadow”? I knew what was going to happen.
5. I don’t get why they have to make Ketterdam’s aesthetic so dark. Is it perpetually night there? The books always described Ketterdam, the Barrel especially, as being colorful.
6. I feel like it actually makes a lot of sense to age up the Grisha Trilogy characters. Really, the only reason Alina, Mal, and Co. were teens was because the book was YA. And if Alina is going to be commanding the Second Army in season two, it makes sense that she would be older.
7. That being said, I don’t agree with aging up the Six of Crows characters. One of the darkest elements of that story was that these things were happening to children, and taking that away really reduces the impact. Also, in the books those characters were noticeably immature, while the Grisha Trilogy characters acted more adult.
7.5. Of course, as a counterpoint, I don’t think it would have made sense to have fifteen-sixteen (ish) year-olds going across the True Sea, and then the Shadow Fold, to kidnap a living saint. And having half the main characters be grown ups while the other half are children would have... had a weird feeling to it.
8. The Conducter seems like a really convenient character. Like, it just irks my writer’s nerves that he conveniently has all the know-how.
9. EMOTIONAL SUPPORT GOAT
10. I really love the cinematography. The flashes between Mal and Alina especially. I only felt like there were maybe a few weird transitions that could have been better, but it was really nice overall.
11. Still a little weird that literally everyone had a British accent except Matthias, but I guess it would have been weird if they had been faking Russian or Dutch accents.
12. I have to admit that Darklina was cute here. Like, pre-betrayal they had some really brilliant moments (and yes, I did like the war room scene - both the first one, where she grabs his hand, and the one where they’re making out)
13. I just love how much more they gave to the Grisha Trilogy characters.
14. And also how they made Alina actually passionate about her mapmaking.
15. The Apparat doesn’t feel nearly as creepy as he did in the books.
16. I don’t know what’s going on with Fedyor and Ivan (what even was that scene where Fedyor fed Ivan a cake???) but you what, at this point, sure. They can do... whatever it is they’re doing.
17. Can we talk about Malina yet? Mal? Oh my goodness them...
18. The scene where the Darkling puts the collar on Alina’s neck was really... ahm. We’re doing body horror now, huh? It’s literally fused into her skin???
19. I love how chaotic episode five was. “Let us escort to dinner (and totally not kidnap you)”. “Oh no, allow me to take you, Alina, and here’s some of your favorite flowers that I totally didn’t bribe your best friend to tell me about.”
20. “Oh, howdy do, let me just hide in the exact carriage my captors have stolen.” I was laughing so hard.
21. DAVID LITERALLY READING “SHADOW AND BONE”. DON’T READ ROW, BUDDY.
22. Honestly the whole of episode eight felt lovely. The cinematography, all of it.
23. “I’m going to visit my aunt in Novokribirsk.” “You have family there?” THe GUILT ON IVAN’S FACE -
24. I don’t really know how I feel about Mal being the one to “kill” the Darkling, when it was Alina in the books. On the one hand, it ties in nicely with the Darkling viewing Mal as powerless and constantly telling him he’s “lesser”, and is really just poetically nice. On the other hand, I am disappointed we didn’t get to see Alina rip a whole boat in half.
Honestly, there’s probably more, but yeah. Don’t be afraid to message me with your own opinions.
19 notes · View notes
tsukkisbean · 4 years
Note
Congratulations on 500! Can I get A3 with Kuroo, please?
Tumblr media
beep beep...a3 detected...thunk!
your item has arrived, thank you for using tsukkibean’s vending machine! we hope to see you again in the future!
pairing: kuroo x gn!reader
genre: angst, rich kid!au
warnings: sad kuroo
word count:1181
prompt: a3. “i don’t need you to succeed” 
a/n: (1) i’m sorry this was an angst please don’t hate me I FELT SO HORRIBLE AFTER YOU SENT AN ASK TELLING ME HOW YOU HOPED KUROO WASN’T ANGST 😭 (2)  there’s a hamilton reference in there so if y’all catch that ily. (3) the hecatoncheires is a creature from greek mythology with 100 hands, don’t ask me how to pronounce it (4) THANK YOU KAT FOR BETA READING <3
Tumblr media
kuroo wasn’t afraid of much, yet something about the dark chilled him to the bone. until now he’d been able to convince himself that his fears probably stemmed from some sort of childhood trauma. maybe it was because of that old oak tree outside his window that looked eerily similar to the hecatoncheires. or the fact that he’d watched one too many horror movies past sundown. though plausible options, both were very much incorrect. 
blindly he searches for his phone hidden among the sea of pillows. once in his grasp, the sickeningly bright screen tells him it’s 2:30am. right on time.
today marks the 365th night in which his slumber had become plagued with nightmares. each dream was always different, yet they all ended the exact same way, waking him at the exact same time. it was the cruel way his mind reminded him of his past mistakes.
removing himself from the warmth of his blankets, he makes his way through the empty halls towards his study. it’s become a sort of routine for him, writing down each nightmare just as he remembered them. he hoped that maybe by compartmentalizing his feelings, he’d be able to understand what triggered the onset of nightmares.
but tonight he decides to try something different. once seated at his desk, pen in hand, his hand begins to race across the page.
to my dearest, y/n
did you notice where i placed the comma? i’m sure you would. after all, you were always the one that said the placement of a comma can change the entire meaning of a sentence.
it feels unsettling, writing to you like this. i guess it’s because i haven’t really gotten over the fact that you’re no longer with me. but if i remember correctly (who am i trying to kid, i would never forget this), you were always a sucker for these type of things - sappy love letters that is.
so that’s what this is i guess. my last love letter to you.
where do i begin? “from the beginning” you’d probably say. i miss your sarcasm. 
if i’m being honest, i wasn’t too fond of the idea of meeting you, but i’m sure you felt the same.  after all, who wants to get stuck in a business marriage, especially in this day and age? plus meeting your future partner in the spring, how cliché. 
thank god my friends were at that dinner though, right? youth these days really know how to lighten up the atmosphere. at least them being there gave me the chance to tell you my nifty chemistry joke. do you remember how it went? i’ll tell you again anyways: why did carbon marry hydrogen? they bonded well from the minute they met. don’t think i didn’t see you try not to choke on your water.
i consider our second meeting our first date. i went in with the expectation that it would be purely business talk and it’d be over within the hour. but then you showed up all out of breath in a casual outfit, hair stuck to your sweaty forehead from the summer heat. from a ways away i could see your caretakers, in a panic trying to catch up to you. you pointed into the distance, trying to distract my bodyguard and despite being a trained professional, they fell for it. how thrilling it was to run through the busy streets of tokyo with you, escaping our obligations even if it was only for a few hours.
even to this day i’m not sure if you meant to drag me along because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings or because you wanted me by your side. whatever the reason, i’m glad you did because that was probably the most fun i had in awhile. i missed feeling like i had the freedom to do anything i wanted. it can get tiresome, you know? acting like the perfect child. who am i kidding, you know that better than anyone.
our relationship only spiraled from then on, and soon enough the leaves began to change colour. everyday you showed me a new way to live my life, and so it didn’t take me long to figure out that i’d fallen for you. i can’t tell you how happy i was when you agreed to marry me on your own accord. i’ll admit the way i asked you was kind of cheesy, but can you blame a guy? you were the hydrogen to my carbon. a relationship formed out of obligation, only to become something so much more meaningful. we were made to last.
you know, i’ve been having nightmares since you left. i’ve tried to tell myself it’s just a phase, that eventually things will go back to normal. but after 365 days i think i can finally admit that i hate the night not because i’m afraid of the dark but because it leaves me vulnerable and exposed to my own demons. 
my nightmares start out different but they always end in the same way. all i can see is your figure, walking into the distance. no matter how hard i run, how loud i scream, you never look back. but today was different. i wanted to wake up so bad, i couldn’t live through this scene. not again. 
this time you did turn back, the words you spoke held so much resentment and anger, “i don’t need you to succeed”. your eyes burned with so much hatred, it was probably enough to melt the snow. my heart is still aching as i write this. it was exactly like the day you left me.
i’m sorry i lashed out at you when you said you wanted to be a writer. you were always the more optimistic one between us, and i was always jealous of you for that. when you suggested we pack up and leave - that we start anew and do the things we really wanted to do, i wanted to. i swear. 
you were right to call me a coward. i was scared of leaving the life that was so meticulously planned out for me. i thought i owed it to my parents to inherit their company, to carry on the family legacy. i thought i could provide you with the best life possible if i did everything they told me. i was afraid that if i took that leap of faith only to fall flat on my face, you’d leave me. funny how things work out. truth is, all i needed was you by my side.
you know i attended your book signing yesterday. you looked so happy, chatting with your fans about your newest release. i don’t think you saw me, and even if you did, you probably pretended not to recognize me. after seeing you yesterday, i realized something.
y/n, you were wrong to say you didn’t need me. i like to think that i created that fire within you by calling your dreams childish.
and it’s going to haunt me forever. 
forever yours, kuroo
89 notes · View notes
hacash · 3 years
Text
Too Much Information
"I always imagined Big Folk’d be rather prudish about sex,” Pippin said. “After all, I imagined none of you do it very often, taking into account your obvious shortcomings.”
The Fellowship share. Rather too much. In which Gandalf is cagey, Merry and Pippin are shameless, and Boromir finds out more about the Fellowship's personal lives than he wanted to know.
[also available on Archive of our Own]
(based on this post; probably not to be taken too seriously)
-
“Posey Greenfields does not count.”
“Does so.”
“Does not.”
“How, may I ask, does she not count?”
“I saw you at that party, Pip, and you were soused off your face. Utterly crocked. I should say she took advantage of you, more than anything.”
“Took advantage? I was giving her the advantage, and very willingly too!”
Boromir eyed the bickering cousins with more trepidation than he might an orc’s nest. Trust me, Elrond had advised the day he’d arrived in Imlradris, you might hear them talking and think you wish to know the conversation. In these moments it is best to turn around and walk the other way.
Delicately he coughed, meeting Legolas’ eye. “Do I want to know?”
The elf grimaced. Owing to his renowned elvish hearing it seemed he had caught every word: but going by Legolas’ disturbed expression Boromir suspected this wasn’t necessarily a good thing. “No. No you don’t.”
Recklessly Boromir plunged on, approaching where Merry and Pippin were setting up their bedding for the night. “Gentlemen?”
Two twin beady gazes turned on him.
“Context, please?”
Ignoring Legolas’ muffled groan and face-palm Merry turned about cheerfully, eager for a new participant – or, as Boromir was beginning to suspect, victim. “Ah, yes! You see, to kill time Pippin and I were discussing some of our more pleasant encounters back home when life was simpler and remembering some of our most enjoyable companions – ”
“Sex stories,” Boromir repeated with dawning understanding, unable to keep the horror from his voice. “You were swapping sex stories.”
“Exactly! Only Pippin insisted on counting one time with Posey Greenfields when he’d gotten into his father’s best sherry – Michel Delving’s finest, it’ll turn you cross-eyed – and I was telling him that didn’t count because he was in no fit state to make a decent showing.”
Pippin was looking so proud of himself, it was almost indecent.
“But…I thought you were a child?” Boromir demanded.
“Excuse me? I’m a tweenager.”
“You’re a deviant is what you are, Pippin,” Merry said.
“I’m an unfettered adventurous soul, lacking in fear.”
“Lacking something is certainly the way Mrs Goodchild described you when she caught you and her Iris at it in the barn that time. Your breeches, for a start.”
“You’re not of age, is what I meant,” Boromir interrupted, before his brain started producing images his stomach couldn’t handle.
“Hobbits often start courting far before they’re of age, sir.” Taking pity on the unfortunate Man, Sam approached with cups of stewed nettle tea. “It’s common enough to start when you’re about sixteen, seventeen years old. Of course, it’s less common to wed before we’re of age – ”
“Thirty-three!” Boromir exclaimed proudly.
“Yes, sir, very well done,” Sam said in a soothing tone. “Which gives any courting couple a nice long while to get to know one another proper. Of course, there’s those as might not wish to wait that long – ” Merry did the universal sign for a swollen belly behind Sam’s back, “but to have your son or daughter wed afore they’ve passed twenty five – well, it’s considered a bit tacky, if you get my drift? Not allowing them a proper chance at life afore they settle down.”
“And by ‘proper chance of life’ we mean…”
“Studying a trade, spending time with friends, practicing how to keep house – ”
“Or in Merry’s case: learning how to do it in a rowboat without capsizing,” Pippin interjected.
“Ah, discussing Salvia Chubb, I believe? As I recall you told your mother you’d caught a fish so large it had pulled you clean from the boat, and that was why you were soaked through and Salvia’s shimmy all tangled up in duckweed.”
Boromir nearly inhaled a mouthful of his wine at Frodo’s sudden appearance. He might have imagined that the last thing the two younger hobbits would want when discussing their depravity was the audience of their elder cousin, but Frodo just regarded the conversation with exasperated amusement.
“You shouldn’t listen to these two, Boromir,” the Ringbearer advised. “They’ll blister your ears off and then some with their sordid tales. My uncle Saradoc would have been at his wits’ end with Merry, save that half his tricks Merry likely learned from him.”
“Hey now!” cried Merry. “I won’t have such slander repeated before friends. There was a time when Frodo Baggins was considered quite the rascal of Buckland, Boromir, and don’t you forget it. If I have ever engaged in pranks, scandal, inebriation or debauchery, chances are I learned it from him!”
“Debauchery!”
“Downright,” Merry repeated, “debauchery.”
Frodo drew himself up to his full height and glared at his unrepentant cousin through narrowed eyes. “I admit to overindulging on Uncle Sara’s port or filching a basket of mushrooms on occasion, Meriadoc, but I object to the implication that I have ever debauched in my life.”
Sam and Pippin’s gazes flickered back and forth between the other two as if watching a game of chequers; Boromir’s cooling nettle tea was abandoned at his feet. Even Legolas was listening intently. Merry merely snorted, leaning back on his haunches as if to prepare for the master stroke. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.
“Cousin, you remember when you left for Bag End I got your old room?”
“I do,” Frodo said stiffly, “and I fail to see the relevance.”
“Well, what you may not recall is you left plenty of odds and ends behind – mathoms mostly, old clothing and books and whathaveyou, and I found some rather interesting articles under your bed from your last years in Buckland. Some rather interesting journals, as it turns out.”
Seated beside Frodo, Legolas was lucky enough to get a good look at the Ringbearer’s face as the significance of this news dawned upon him. It was quite a spectacle, he had to admit. He’d never actually seen someone turn white before.
“You didn’t.”
Merry smirked. “It ended up proving quite an education when I was a tween, I must say.”
“…journals?” Boromir asked weakly.
“I forgot to mention: Melilot Brandybuck asked me to pass on her fondest and immense well wishes,” Merry continued wickedly, “for a couple of descriptive passages found in a particular entry – Wedmath, 1388, I believe? She was most appreciative, and I told her that the credit truly lay with you.”
Frodo’s face had bypassed white and was rapidly approaching green. “You didn’t.”
“Journals?” Pippin demanded. “What journals? Why haven’t I heard of any journals? You were courting Melilot at least ten years ago, why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Brandybuck?” Boromir asked. “But I thought Merry was – ”
“Third cousins,” Sam said wearily. “And if you let yourself get distracted by such matters, sir, you’ll never catch up.”
“And what descriptive passages could have Melilot Brandybuck still expressing her gratitude after ten years?”
“Oh, and Rory Goldworthy. Though I had to adapt some of the passages for Rory.”
“So what you’re saying is, half of Buckland knows Master Merry’s more – uh – adventurous activities can be put down to my master’s influence?” Sam said with a growing grin.
“And when were you planning on showing me these journals?”
“Meriadoc,” Frodo said slowly, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you.”
“You should all know, our cousin Frodo is a most meticulous and,” Merry smirked, “inventive writer in all respects. I only hope he provides the additions to Bilbo’s book with the same attention to detail!”
Frodo’s reaction was not a happy one. With an uncharacteristically warlike yell he hurled himself at his cousin, fists flying. Although Merry was by far the sturdier of the two, Frodo’s height and indignation found the two evenly matched, and the pair were soon scuffling haplessly in Merry’s bedding. Sam rolled his eyes, and Pippin cheered.
“Well then, lads.” Gimli’s voice was gruff as he approached. He had been discussing their route south along the Misty Mountains with Gandalf and Aragorn, and now the three of them eyed the ensuing chaos with amusement. “What are we discussing?”
“Sex,” Pippin piped up cheerfully.
Legolas was pinching the bridge of his nose: the mumbled comments of ‘raspberry jam and the garden swing’ made Sam fairly certain he had picked up most of Merry and Pippin’s early conversation, and also fairly certain that he didn’t want to know more. Gimli gave a low chuckle, Aragorn raised an eyebrow, and Gandalf shook his head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘smut-minded hole-dwellers’.
“You started this?” Gimli asked Boromir.
“I asked for context.”
“Well, it’s your own damn fault then.”
“I’m fully aware of that,” Boromir said. “I may never be able to look Merry and Pippin in the eye ever again.”
“He’s embarrassed,” Sam supplied helpfully.
Boromir raised an eyebrow. He was not embarrassed by sex – he was forty years old, thank you very much, and a soldier to boot: quite accustomed to bawdy humour. He knew all the words to ‘The Istari and the Ninety-Nine Virgins’ and had laughed himself sick over every variation of the one about the widow’s lodging house on many occasions. But the thought of these hobbits, small as children, and the Ringbearer by all accounts…
“That’s rather rude,” Merry grumbled when he told them this. “You don’t see us saying ‘urgh, imagine those Men going at it when they’re so freakishly big and ancient looking’, do you?”
“Thank you very much,” Aragorn remarked dryly.
Legolas rolled his eyes. “After spending many days in the company of soldiers from Dale I rather thought all Men to be rather fixated on the subject.”
“Really? I always imagined Big Folk’d be rather prudish about sex,” Pippin said. “After all, I imagined none of you do it very often, taking into account your obvious shortcomings.”
There came from Aragorn the sounds of spluttering and rapid smoke inhalation; it appeared he’d lit his pipe at an inopportune moment. “I…I beg your pardon?!”
“Well, look at the size of you. I can imagine you might not be – well, no offence, but not wholly up to scratch.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Frodo steepled his fingers thoughtfully and fixed both Aragorn and Boromir with a calculating gaze that seemed to them a bit too intrigued to be decent. “Well, be fair Pippin. I can imagine size might be beneficial.”
“Maybe a bit.”
“A bit?” chorused the two Men. Gimli snorted.
“But, well, you’re all so big and clumsy,” Pippin, oblivious in the face of rapidly approaching death, continued blithely. “No dexterity. No lightness of touch. No imagination. And just like in everything else, if you think only size matters you’re not going to put too much thought into it, are you?”
Aragorn had gone a distinctly red shade. From across the fire Sam was could see Gandalf’s shoulders shaking with mirth.
“Is Aragorn alright?” Merry asked.
“Ignore him,” Gimli said, “he’s just reconsidering certain aspects of his romantic life for the past seventy years.”
“Bugger off.”
“Well, we’re not prudish,” Boromir said hastily – Gondor might have needed no king, but abandoning Aragorn to this particular line of questioning seemed like a step too far. “We just don’t feel the need to talk about it all the time.”
“We don’t all the time,” Pippin said. “Just in general conversation.”
“Do the women in your homeland not consider such conversation uncouth?” Legolas asked in bewilderment.
Sam snorted. “You want uncouth, sir, you should see young Myrtle Twofoot when she’s got into the summer punch. Three glasses and she’s inviting any lad in sight to untie her bloomer lacings with her teeth, and that’s a fact.”
“Good heavens,” said Boromir, looking rather pale.
“Oh, she always has the lad clean their teeth first, so as to keep everything hygienic sir. Very conscientious is young Myrtle.”
“So, unlike the rest of civilised society,” Legolas concluded, “hobbits would think nothing of taking their afternoon tea, or whatever you strange creatures call it, while listening to Merry regale them all with tales of – ”
“Being snowed in at Bag End with the Goodbody twins, a sturdy settee and the last of Mister Bilbo’s Old Winyards,” Sam supplied helpfully. “I remember your mother raising hell for that one when word got out, Mister Merry.”
Merry somehow managed to smirk and blush at the same time.
“Oh, honestly.” Aragorn looked particularly unsettled. “We don’t all need to hear about Merry’s…proclivities.”
“Well, you’re just a prude,” Merry sniffed.
“No, I’m just not interested in hearing about it.”
“Merry, leave him alone,” Frodo said. “I was in the room next to yours on that particular night, you may remember, and I took as little joy from hearing it then as Aragorn is now.”
Merry pulled a face.
“And to answer your question, Legolas: Merry is, as usual, grossly misrepresenting the Shire in his smut and yes you may well blush, Meriadoc – it’s hardly the sort of thing we discuss over tea and cakes on every occasion. However, I wouldn’t exactly call the subject taboo.”
“Hobbits,” Gandalf chuckled, “as in all respects, enjoy the comforts of life most openly. Why, I could tell tales of Bullroarer Took that might make your hair turn on end!”
“Any tips to pass on?” Pippin asked.
“None for your ears, young hobbit.”
“I’m surprised you’re so bashful, Aragorn,” Merry said. “I’d have thought you very experienced in that regard.”
“What? Why would I be?” Aragorn asked, genuinely baffled.
“Have you seen you?”
“I suppose I had offers – a few – ” Behind his back Legolas snorted and then hastily turned it into a cough, “but there was only ever Arwen.”
“So you’re only interested in girls,” Pippin said.
“No, I’m only interested in Arwen.”
“But what if a really beautiful woman offered – ”
“She did. Her name was Arwen.”
“I think it’s romantic,” said Sam.
“I think it’s idiotic,” Merry argued. “All of that,” he gestured to the ranger, who began blushing from the appraising stares coming from the rest of the Fellowship, “going to waste on just one lass. It’s not natural.”
“Meriadoc Brandybuck!” Frodo barked suddenly. “Apologise, young hobbit. You’re being very disrespectful of other folks’ habits. We can’t all manage to be such tramps as you.”
“Maybe we should change the subject,” Gandalf said dryly. “This has all been gone into quite enough.”
“Like Melilot Brandybuck, apparently,” Pippin remarked.
“Peregrin!”
“And,” Boromir continued, suicidally avoiding the glare being levelled at him by Gandalf, “lads going with lads: that is not uncommon, in your home?”
“Why not?” Pippin asked, genuinely surprised. “I wouldn’t have known how to so much as kiss if it weren’t for good old Folco Boffin.”
“What of Gondor, Boromir?” Legolas asked.
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “It is not considered shameful. But neither is it wholly approved of, in the higher houses of Gondor, for one man to make a life pledge with another. The noble families consider their heritage to be of great worth, and to forgo the chance of heirs and carrying on the line simply for the sake of affection is not always smiled upon.”
“Giving up your chance of love with some nice lad just to carry on some family name?” Sam said sadly. “Well, that’s right sad, that is.”
“I suppose,” said Boromir. Having understood that he was expected to carry on the line of Stewards since he was a child, he had never thought about it until now. “Of course, in a family with many sons or male cousins, it is less of a scandal. And out in the country or in the garrisons, of course, no-one pays it much mind.”
“Much the same as in the North,” Aragorn, who had now recovered, added. “Though within the Rangers, of course, men with men is more common. Less women, you see.”
“Well, it’s common enough in the Shire,” Merry said carelessly. “Pippin had quite the crush on Aragorn when we first met him in Bree.”
“Hoy!”
“Seeing you and Arwen together must have been like hitting puberty all over again,” Merry said with a snort.
This time it was Pippin who launched himself at Merry; while Aragorn mutely examined himself with the very real concern that he was giving off some sort of wrong signal.
“Don’t worry, Aragorn,” Frodo said soothingly. “After you made us march ten miles in the pouring rain, I suspect Pippin’s ardour wore off some.”
Pippin resurfaced long enough to flash Aragorn a cheeky grin that did not particularly set his mind at ease. “Indeed. And unlike Merry, I don’t feel the need to be bossed around by any of my romantic partners – oof!”
“Well, there’s a revelation I did not particularly need to hear,” Gimli muttered as the two cousins began wrestling again.
“Goes all red whenever Estella Bolger shoots him a sharp word, he does – argh!”
“I still can’t believe how open hobbits are,” Boromir muttered.
“Some of us’ve got a bit more class than the young masters,” Sam said, “begging their pardons.”
“Some of us’re just too shy for their own good.” Pippin, panting, had resurfaced. “When we return to the Shire I’m going to lock you and the lovely Rosie into the cellars of Crickhollow and not let you out until the windows shatter.”
“Master Pippin!”
“Sam, please tell me you don’t go around debauching with all and sundry like the rest of these rakes,” Legolas said.
“Oh, Sam plays his cards close to the chest,” said Merry with an admiring smirk. “He might still be a virgin or might have serviced every lass in the greater Westfarthing area; we’d never know.”
“I have not serviced every lass in the Westfarthing, Mister Merry.”
“Every lad then.”
“Now why would I be doing that, Mr Merry? I don’t know every lad in the Westfarthing!”
“That’s something you take into consideration?”
“Yes!” Sam exclaimed. Merry just looked bemused.
“If Sam is more selective than you, Merry, that’s hardly something to mock,” Frodo said disapprovingly.
“Who said I was mocking? I admire you, Sam, but honestly you were too bloody blind by half to realise what it was like back home. Scores of tweenagers hanging around Bag End garden just waiting for the weather to warm so you’d so much as roll up your sleeves.”
While Pippin fell about laughing and the rest of the Fellowship chuckled, Sam turned a horrified shade of red. “That…that never happened!”
“Why do you think Frodo had so many cousins from Buckland and Tookborough come to stay? Not for his sparkling conversation, surely; there’s only so long you can feign an interest in elvish poetry.”
“Sam,” Frodo said patiently, “one summer we had half the Shire stopping in at Bag End asking you for gardening tips. Did you honestly think Milo Chubb was that interested in keeping the greenfly off his begonias?”
“You knew about this, sir?”
“Knew? I was considering selling tickets.”
Sam’s head fell into his hands.
“Your courtship rituals are certainly…unlike anything I have experienced,” Gimli chuckled drolly. “Whatever happened to a finely-wrought ring or a poem in honour of your loved one?”
“I’ve had good luck with a bottle of sherry and a broom cupboard,” Merry said.
“Typically affection is expressed in our culture with flowers, dancing, and fine manners,” Frodo smirked, “though Merry and Pippin have always seen fit to buck with tradition. Naughty limericks and drunk come-ons are not acceptable.”
“They’re not?” This was news to Merry.
“They were considered terrible flirts back home.”
“Ah yes,” Pippin reminisced dreamily, “I remember the day Diamond North-Took called me a depraved, unconscionable back-alley scoundrel without the morals of a tom-cat.”
“I know, because you do have the morals of a tom-cat.”
“And I told her that, but do you think she’d listen?”
“Folk are expected to calm down as they leave their tweens behind, but as long as no lass gets into trouble or no-one’s tumbling with someone thought to be courting someone else…” Frodo gave a nimble shrug, lips twitching with the fond memories of days long since past. The rest of the Fellowship almost felt like they were intruding. “I myself used to…but then, I don’t know, my interest rather waned over the years…”
“Lost your puff, more like,” Merry scoffed. Without looking up Frodo kicked him in the kneecaps.
“The desire faded,” he said firmly. “Lovely memories and a fine time in my life – but I don’t see anything lacking now it’s over, either.”
Boromir was fascinated. He’d never imagined that one could talk so frankly about desire – or, for that matter, shrug off the lack of it as nothing more than the disappearance of a well-loved but outgrown coat. “I never saw the appeal,” he remarked, “on any account. Good luck to you all if you so choose to take your pleasures in such a fashion, but – honestly, it seems quite the overblown fuss to me. I can think of half a dozen things I’d prefer doing to sex, just off the top of my head.”
“No tales of debauchery from you then?” Merry asked sadly.
“Unlike our esteemed Ringbearer,” Boromir bowed to the blushing Frodo, “I have never debauched. I’m not sure I’d know where to begin.”
The hobbits shrugged carelessly. “Oh, there’s plenty in our homeland who are much the same,” Pippin said. “Cousin Bilbo’s a hundred and twenty-nine if he’s a day, and I don’t think he’s thought on sex once in all that time.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Oh, come off it. I’d have heard if Bilbo had some lost lady-love in the Shire, mark my words.”
“I said nothing about romance. I just said your assumptions that Bilbo was never interested in sex are inaccurate,” Frodo said, a rather haunted look on his face.
“What, and he told you that, did he?”
“I didn’t need to be told, Peregrin; the arrangements he had with the Widow Moley rather spoke for themselves.”
For a moment there was a distinct choking sound. Sam was very carefully examining the ground beneath his feet while Merry had stuffed his fist into his mouth, shaking with barely contained glee. The rest of the Fellowship exchanged glances. Pippin’s mouth had slowly fallen open: as Frodo continued to look pointedly at him he began to feel much the same way as one might when one bites into an apple and sees half a grub wriggling merrily away at him.
“Bilbo had companionship in his golden years?” Aragorn said in a somewhat strained voice. “That’s…that’s nice.”
“Every Sunday after tea,” Frodo said with the hollow tones more suited to an old soldier recounting the horrors of battles long since past, “and every Trewsday before luncheon; round to Bag End she’d come, regular as clockwork for nearly ten years. Why do you think I asked your mother for earmuffs every Yule?”
“But,” Boromir said, “I thought you told me you were only adopted by Bilbo when he was in his eighties?”
“That I did.”
Pippin finally made a sound, and that sound was: “Eeuargh…..”
“Well now, here we see again the difference in the races. For an elf to be in such a steady relationship at a mere eighty years of age would be considered rash indeed,” Legolas snickered, with the air of one stirring the pot with gleeful abandon.
“Cousin Bilbo is not an elf.”
“Quite,” Frodo said tartly. “Elves are beauteous creatures to behold, and walking in on him and the Widow Moley was not, repeat not, beauteous.”
Pippin made another strangled sound.
“Gimli,” Aragorn said hastily: the thought of old Bilbo, who he had long regarded as akin to a kindly old uncle, getting up to things was not sitting well, “care to add to the conversation?”
Gimli chuckled. “Alas, we are not quite as rambunctious as hobbits.” He leant back and puffed on his pipe. “In truth, romance is rare in my culture – admired well enough, but not prized highly, and many of my people never marry at all. Many do not desire it, being so engrossed in their crafts. There are dwarven songs of great loves and terrible loss that could put even an elvish lay to shame,” Legolas twitched, “but it is beauteous rare. What is romance compared to the joy of your work, the stonecraft and metalwork that outlasts the ages, the artistry of one’s hands?”
Pippin opened his mouth to say something about drilling, tunnelling and chisels, but was stopped when Sam, without any apparent change in his expression, took hold of his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.
“Though Bilbo told me you were considered quite the catch in Erebor?” Frodo prompted.
Gimli shrugged off the complement modestly. “Dwarves who are so inclined towards affairs of the heart – and body – are rare, and so seen as something of a prize. And I flatter myself that I am no poor craftsman; no dwarf or dwarrowdam would scorn one who knows how to wield a hammer.”
“Pippin, shut up,” Boromir said hastily.
“So, you mean – women with women and men with – ”
“Dwarves with dwarves,” Gimli said firmly. He shrugged, and then gave a great booming laugh, smacking his hands down upon his knees. “Though we are a people of great enthusiasms in all respects. Those dwarves who do wed tend to have very successful – and very enjoyable – marriages. Dwarves may not have much interest in affairs of the bed, but when we do it we do it right.”
“Remind me to take a trip to the Blue Mountains when all this is over,” Merry muttered to Pippin with a lecherous grin.
“I don’t think you could handle it.”
“I could.”
“The size difference could be a problem.”
“I could cope with that.”
“The beards would itch.”
Merry paused, then nodded. “Fair point.”
Meanwhile Gimli was eyeing Legolas with wry amusement. “And I suppose your lot have their minds on higher things?”
Legolas scoffed. “Where do you think our children came from?”
“Be fair, sir,” said Sam. “After hearing all those great tales, you start to think elves are a little too dignified for matters such as that.”
“Thingol and Melian,” Frodo chipped in, “Beren and Luthien, Earendil and Elwing. Sam’s right, it’s difficult to imagine them all shagging.”
“Do you mind?” Aragorn asked, turning queasy. Most of these were his potential in-laws.
“Elves are always attracted to beauty,” Legolas’ brow raised, “of any and all kinds. But I can’t deny, compared to us mortals are more – ”
“Randy?” Pippin said.
“Horny?” Merry added.
“Lecherous goats?” Sam asked with a grin.
“Those weren’t quite the synonyms I was grasping for, but essentially yes.”
“Though to be fair,” Aragorn chipped in, “when you say beauty of any and all kinds, be careful not to misrepresent, Legolas. I recall you told me that your father had much to say when as a fauntling your admiration of the Lord Elrond grew a little too obvious to be overlooked.”
“Because he was a fellow?” Merry asked sympathetically.
“Because he is half-elven!” Legolas exclaimed. “Sweet Elbereth, I thought my father would never let it go.”
“Nice to know even elves have their hang-ups,” Sam said.
“But we remain more higher-minded about such things than mortals,” Legolas said.
“Not judging by some of those books of elven art in Lord Elrond’s library.”
“Books?” Merry perked up noticeably.
“Oh,” Gimli snorted, “if it’s art it doesn’t count.”
“I don’t care how many plinths and urns they include, I still use the term art advisedly.”
“What books? Why weren’t they shared?”
“Maybe Frodo’s journals would find a place there,” Legolas said with a smirk. Frodo groaned again.
“Well, this has been most informative,” Aragorn said. “If we get attacked by a marauding band of orcs in the middle of the night it’s pleasant to think we’ll at least have Frodo and Boromir to defend us, for it seems half this Fellowship will be too randy to even think of our defence. I think that clears up every culture represented here, does it not?”
They paused, mulling it over. Then Frodo said, in a particularly thoughtful tone: “Well, not quite every culture…”
As one – warily, and as if drawn by unspeakable horror – the Fellowship turned to look at Gandalf, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout this debate. He puffed contentedly on his pipe and simply looked back at them with eyebrow raised, daring them to ask.
Pippin opened his mouth eagerly, and then without preamble was punched right in the stomach by Merry.
Later, when they were all asleep and Legolas had taken the first watch, Pippin rolled onto his back and sighed thoughtfully. “I wish we hadn’t gone into all that now, you know? I feel hellishly homesick.”
His cousin patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll be home soon, Pip.”
“I hope so – I want to be back in the Shire. It’s a terrible thing to think of, never going back. Why, I might never have Diamond cast aspersions on my honour ever again!”
“I shouldn’t worry about it. I have no doubt she’ll be denying the very existence of your honour the minute we get back.”
Pippin perked up. “You think so?”
“I’m sure of it.” Merry tucked an arm behind his head. “Funny to think of, isn’t it, old Gandalf? Though I suppose he doesn’t go in much for romance - wizards probably have too much to think about, what with their great works and all.”
“And their staffs.”
“Yes Pip.”
“It must take a lot of maintaining, a mighty staff such as that.”
“Good night, Pippin.”
“And another thing – ”
“Pip?”
“Yes?”
“I can’t help but think you’re working your way up to a dirty joke about a wizard’s staff. I’d rather you didn’t, if it’s all the same to you.”
17 notes · View notes