#if it doesnt yet exist i want to write something like that except fantasy of manners.

[valodia]

(tagged by: @queer-ragnelle thank you~ <3)

last song played: if it counts, then ive been working on a SynthV cover of one of my previous original songs, so that- otherwise, Pathological façade by GHOST~

reading: Hhhhh- actively, some xanxia danmei again- dont wanna say which. I have a bunch of manga to read, ive also started several fantasy books that i read on and off (Robin Hobb mostly and another fantasy series)

watching: Ive been watching a bunch of arthuriana movies/shows with my friend and her friends, my husband and i also started to watch an animated xanxia danmei show also, but idk if we will continue

current obsession: xanxia danmei,,,,,, and 3zun though i dont draw about it as much,,

tagging: im terminally incapable of tagging people but if you want to do it consider yourself tagged. If we are mutuals then absolutely i would want to tag you, but im too shy for that. So you can do it if you want, and it will absolutely count as me tagging you for real. <3

[nintendont2502]

What's up with heirstuck and reboot

Heirstuck is just my version of the generic homestuck fantasy AU (the planning document is actually named 'Yet Another Generic Fantasy AU' so I kinda call it heirstuck + YAGFAU interchangeably lmao), but idk I think its fun. I put a shit ton of effort into the world building/lore but also I have no fucking clue what to actually do with it? Idk might write smth after I finish Reboot

Reboot is just 'self indulgent shit: the fic' and I love it so fucking much. It's also the only fic idea I've actually written something for (8k so far baybee). It's all I think about at work because driving is Boring

Hold up im gonna add a cut here because im about to infodump hard

Reboot: takes place 10 years after the game ends, and right after Dirk kills himself like he does in the Candy timeline (except there's no Ult selves this time - dude was just Not Doing Great). Jake *also* isn't doing great, manages to convince himself that there *has* to be a Dirk, and somehow Hopes into existence a 13 year old Hal, who's very confused (because his last memory was dying as Arquiussprite when he tried to leave the game*) and definitely not Dirk. Jake freaks out, Hal *also* freaks out and passes out (partially due to just being overwhelmed by being literally Hoped into existence), and Jake takes them to Dirk's old apartment where he uh. May or may not keep him kidnapped there for just over a month (although he'd never admit that he's essentially kidnapped someone to himself). Also he keeps trying to figure out how to 'fix' everything, and somehow ends up deluding himself through the power of Hope into seeing Hal *as* Dirk. Hal (who at this point is incredibly scared just by. Everything (including Jake flipping his shit and punching him at one point) goes along with it.

Eventually Jane figures out what's going on, finds Hal and loses her shit because holy shit her husband created life, kidnapped said life and didn't tell her for a month straight. Hal ends up moving in with Dave and Karkat (who are very very gay and very very in denial about that) and gets a job with crockercorp because he doesn't fully trust dave and karkat yet, and wants to be able to support himself. Eventually he realises thst he *can* trust dave and karkat (and his job is incredibly fucking boring) and he tries to quit, but whoops! Turns out he was *technically* registered as Crockercorp property.

To try and cover up Jake's... everything, Jane secretly gave him a role at Crockercorp in the research and development sector, with Hal legally being his prototype for Crockercorp's supposed AI program. Jane was originally just going to leave it, but crockercorp is struggling financially, and AI research could be enough to keep them running. Which means.- Hal isn't allowed to leave. Obviously Hal, dave and Karkat are *furious* about that, but there isn't anything they can do - legally, Hal doesnt exist as a person, and when they try to take Crockercorp to court, they lose. Bad. Jane (who isn't the absolute worst yet but judt give her time) offers them a contract where Hal can do his work from home four days a week, and only comes in on Mondays. She does get worse though. Way fucking worse - she begins to realise that if they're going to pull off the AI thing (and they have to, because they've invested so much time already and there's so much on the line), they need Hal to obey them- and right now, he isn't doing that. Being at Dave and Karkats most of tje time gives him a stable home base, so he feels confident enough to tell crocker to fuck off and not play into her robot shit. Eventually, she starts getting even more desperate, and Bad Shit happens which I won't spoil here :)

Heirstuck doesn't have a plot yet, but it's pretty standard 'homestuck fantasy AU' shit. Derse and Propsit are two separate kingdoms, ruled by the alpha kids (who are 20) with the beta kids (who are like 16) being the heirs to the throne. Alternia is a separate kingdom on the outskirts that fucking hates the human kingdoms, and the human kingdoms are also at war with each other

The rules of succession are pretty interesting though I think - each kingdom has two thrones, the male and the female throne. Only members of the royal family who show signs of magic abilities are able to claim the throne, and there's always two royals of each gender - one on the throne, and a heir. In both kingdoms, the male members of the royal family take one last name (Strider in Derse, Egbert in Prospit), while the female members take a different last name (Lalonde in Derse, Harley in Prospit).

The last Queen of Prospit (Queen Harley) mysteriously disappeared one day, along with the former King Egbert, leaving Jane and Jake to take the throne. Only a few days earlier, Queen Lalonde and King Strider of Derse *also* died, forcing Dirk and Roxy to the thrones. All four were far younger than any recorded rulers in history, and the suspiciously close timing of the rulers deaths only lead to more suspicion between the two kingdoms, fueling the war even further. Just after the crowning of the two kingdoms new rulers, the ruler of Alternia - Her Imperial Condesce - returned after her decades long disappearance, telling Alternia to ready for war

Before Queen Harley died, she spent a lot of time with her Heirs Jane and Jake, although what she did was unknown. It must have had an impact, though, because when Jane ascended to the throne, she took the last name 'Crocker' instead of the traditional Harley, in honour of the former queens original last name. Similarly, only a few days after he was crowned, King Egbert completely disappeared (although rumours have spread that he now goes by Jake English or Doc Scratch, in honour of the God he's created a cult around on the outskirts of the warring kingdoms)

(Also yeah Queen Harley is absolutely just HIC in disguise - she brainwashed Jane into further intensifying the war between Derse and Prospit before she 'died', and she told Jake about a powerful God known as Lord English in the hopes of distracting him to get a weaker King on the throne (poor John). She didn't expect him to actually raise LE - it was the equivalent of just jingling keys in front of a baby's face, only for them to snatch them, sprint away and commit mass vehicular manslaughter in your Ford f150.)

I dont really have too much in the way of plot yet, but I do have some random ideas:

- after HICs return, karkat is suddenly in a lot more danger as a mutant (and someone who neber manifested powers, unlike every other troll) - so he gets the fuck out and flees to Derse, where he meets dave

- speaking of Dave - he never manifested powers either. He shouldn't be heir, and they all know that. He came along with rose to serve as her body guard (and also to get away from his older brother, who - resentful that *he* never got called up to take the throne - trains Dave *way* too hard). Rose fakes a vision that Dave is meant to be heir, and dirk and roxy pretend to believe it because holy shit they can't just send him back

- Jake uses dirk as a host to manifest Lord English. Cue incredibly insane Dirkjake here

- I have. Thoughts about classpects and how they manifest but I can't be fucked writing them out jere

- HICs main goal is to have the two human kingdoms turn on each other so they weaken each other, and then the trolls can sweep in and take them all out (right now they live underground after some ancient war drove them out or smth).

[summaryi]

When the Moon Hatched - Sarah A. Parker

reluctant 2/5

ok i havent finished yet but

the world is interesting so far

not enough known about characters

-------

but the one thing that might push this into DNF territory for me DESPITE THE INTERESTING WORLD

is the fucking fantasy spelling of known and existing concepts

like fucking dae and day

if you make up a creature person place concept whatever

yeah have it your way

use the beautiful spellings of faerie instead of fairy

but fucking

having to read dae which means day when the word day already exists and dae just means day

not my cup of tea

but i press on

wanna know about these moons

and the POV switches are in such tiny font compared to the rest of the text i was flipping back and forth to find it

and something just happened but im like?? i didnt have the time to get invested

so this doesnt mean anything to me

---

ive kept reading and im really torn???? some parts are breathtakingly sweet and soft, like a nostalgic memory

and some parts are

so

disjointed

huh??

i feel like a third of it is lovingly crafted

and tbe other two thirds are just slapped together to fill pages

its a weird fucking experience

-----

im fucking incensed what the hell

one of the chapters ripped my heart out and tore it into shreds

and three chapters later there are so many fucking unnecessary made up fantasy words just crammed together holy hell

was this written by two different people

and if youre going to use your own made up words

give us some fucking explanation or show and tell

if i dont know whats going on because none of the words make sense how can i fucking read jesus christ

what the hell is going on in this book

im actually pissed because the quality of the writing is so inconsistent

----

ok i finished it

am i fucking stupid? is it the kindle editions? or do all these books keep fucking putting pronunciation guides and glossaries at the back with zero indication they're there, not even a * or page at the front

maybe its a me problem but holy fuck

put the map at the back and the definitions and pronunciation at tne FRONT

AND THE FUCKING TRIGGER WARNINGS TOO WHY ARE THEY the last possible item

is it me??? am i the problem???

but like, ok, have the separate pronunciation guide and the glossary or definitions at the end

i still want some kind of BRIEF in-story explanation

people DO this to GREAT effect

it's fucking practical

and it does NOT break the stupid "show, dont tell" rule to have a character just do a quick "oh, MC is new/amnesiac/willfully ignorant, here's a 2 sentence primer"

anyways

overall, hate this book

it is NOT for me

i can sort of see why its paced and split the way it is? but also i cant

it feels very.......... it just feels like only a tiny sliver of the entire book is well polished

and the rest of it is slag, just tossed in

like????

the parts that i enjoy were enough to get me to finish the book but holy shit im pissed off

it could be so good!!!! but it's not!!!! overall the idea and the plot and all the strings are very good!!! but its so badly woven!!!!!!! except for a few shining hero moments

but what the fuck!!! it should all be equally good!!!!!!!!!!!

am i just a hater??? idk everyones fucking sucking this books dick and like

its like

a delicious meal that got dropped in a puddle full of shit

like there are pieces i liked! they were good! i see the potential! but fucking christ it was not a michelin experience and those tasty bites were not worth the rest of this meal??????? aaaaakrslhbgliugraiaubefigawrlharfk

[chasingfictions]

ats is better than btvs dont let the fact that im posting this on april 1st give u any wrong ideas i am one hundred percent serious about this

FIRST OF ALL who needs stories about women and queerness when you can have stories about big men saving tiny women except sometimes he doesnt successfully save tiny woman and then he has to be sad about it :(((((((((((

SECOND OF ALL btvs wastes all this time developing its women characters' arcs based on who they are as independent people and their psyches when it would have been way more efficient to just build their story arcs out of how they fit into the lives of the men around them. it just saves time. and isnt that what you want from a story? to just get in and out as soon as possible?

THIRD OF ALL it's insane to me that btvs doesnt even find time for One mystical pregnancy plotline??? it's just such an obvious fantasy show trope and it feels like they dont even respect the genre to not include it, like ats does it ??? what? 5 times? 6? which is a sign of what a mature show it is, that it keeps revisiting this theme to give it new layers of meaning (about how women should be punished for existing. obviously).

FOURTH OF ALL ats just improves on all btvs characters who cross over. first of all, putting faith in prison? where she Belongs??? was a brilliant point. btvs as a show is far too loose and radical with the law. ats makes a firm stand that crime is crime and should be punished ideally with well-funded and cruel judicial systems. and buffy? i know she's barely on the show but i think her two brief windows on ats are better than all of her portrayals on all of btvs. like, buffy is just so much more interesting to me as a symbolic representation of angel's angst than she is on her own terms, and i think ats really understands that. not to mention how much better spike is on ats. he can really get back to his roots as a comic relief character. which is such a better use for him than trying to make him a romantic lead. i mean spike?? a romantic lead??????? insane and yet another reason btvs doesnt have rights.

FIFTH OF ALL it just has such complex plotting. btvs would never have the guts to do a full memory wipe of an entire person from the other characters' minds as it enters its final season and then never really touch on what that means for them or how it's affected their relationships with each other. like, btvs was way heavy-handed foreshadowing dawn's existence and then spending all this unnecessary time in s5 working through how dawn's existence impacts buffy's psyche. ats doing a much more understated approach of hardly ever mentioning connor at all in s5 or considering how his absence would impact things is a way more mature form of storytelling :))) like, it's show don't tell. that's writing school day one.

SIXTH OF ALL i just think btvs is really reverse-misogynist at a certain point. it's like, by the time we get to the late seasons there's basically no men on the cast? ats really balances that out and makes sure we're getting men's perspectives in storytelling :) which is something really lacking from media :) that plus all the time they spend on a gay relationship when it's like,, why do we have to make a whole thing about how willow and tara are gay? isnt that reducing them to their queerness??? isnt it actually far more progressive to work like ats, and kind of vaguely imply lorne is gay with the everything about him but never actually say so and blatantly contradict it in dialogue? just to keep 'em guessing, you know. the last thing you want is for a show to be obvious

my only gripe with ats is that they bother building up side characters when it should be much more focused on angel himself. like literally who cares about characters like fred or gunn or lorne or lilah? i think it would have been a much tighter show if they had just focused on classically grizzled and complex male protagonists like angel and wesley and lindsey. none of them got nearly enough screentime or attention paid to their development. i mean thank god they killed off cordy and fred by mystical pregnancy and stopped paying attention to gunn and lorne's characters in ways that made sense and wrote lilah off to be replaced with a discount lilah who didnt matter for the final season? so we could really spend time with the characters who matter? but like, they could have done that way sooner

[ripleyfm]

              ･ﾟ☀   good   morning   to   everyone   except   those   who   hate   on   legend   of   korra   !   skskskks   i’m   teddy   ,   i’m   a   lil   ole   baby   swinging   back   into   the   rpc   heart   emojis   a   -   blazing   !   this   is   my   lil   sunflower   chaos   seeker   known   as   ripley   ,   a   newer   muse   for   me   but   i’m   really   excited   to   flesh   her   out   here   with   some   extra   spooky   elements   .   i   have   a   god   awful   sense   of   humor   and   too   much   enthusiasm   for   angst   so   tbh   ?   come   get   y’all   PLOTTIN   JUICE   to   distract   me   from   thirsting   over   avatar   kyoshi   !  disc / ord is @𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 !#6439 since i’ll be mobile for the afternoon !

* [ bruna marquezine + cis female + she / her ] —— have you met tallulah ripley ? they are a twenty-two year old senior currently studying biology & music theory. they live on decker house, and word around campus is that this leo is vibrant + gregarious, as well as hedonistic + philophobic. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive. trailing sand in on the hardwood with bare feet , running late to meetings ( and asking forgiveness with a mere flash of a grin ) , tucking a greta van fleet album among the family collection of concierto classics .

EDIT : wanted and current connections can be found here ! 

youngest   of   four   ,   born   into   an   old   money   surname   ,   her   mother ,  an  international   student  from  sao  paolo  ,  brazil  ,  and  american   father   meet   as   competing   pianists   at   holloway   ,   falling   in   love   ,   marrying   ,   and   beginning   the   next   generation   of   the   ripley   virtuosos   soon   after   graduation   .   her   childhood   is   privileged   and   uneventful   ,   strict   and   stifling   as   early   as   she   can   remember   ,   tallulah   causing   trouble   enough   as   if   to   make   up   for   her   perfectly   behaved   siblings   .

her   father   becomes   one   of   the   most   prolific   modern   composers   of   his   time   ,   and   splits   his   efforts   between   composition   and   teaching   music   theory   at   julliard   as   his   wife   continues   performances   as   a   famed   pianist   .   though   her   siblings   branch   out   into   other   instruments   ,   tallulah   is   the   only   one   stubborn   enough   to   weather   the   callouses   on   her   fingers   ,   figuring   if   she’s   going   to   be   forced   to   play   an   instrument   of   any   type   ,   it’ll   at   least   be   something   she   likes   .   thus   ,   the   only   stringed   instrument   in   the   ripley   household   becomes   hers   as   she   takes   on   the   cello   by   storm   .

practicing   cello   is   perhaps   the   only   thing   lu   truly   commits   herself   to   —   charming   and   sociable   as   she   may   be   ,   her   selectiveness   with   her   efforts   makes   her   sluggish   with   schoolwork   as   if   to   give   her   family   a   hard   time   .   her   siblings   ,   all   honor   scholars   and   first   chairs   at   their   respective   instruments   ,   pick   on   her   for   her   unmotivated   wild   child   ways   at   the   encouragement   of   her   mother   .   the   only   person   who   takes   the   time   to   sit   with   tallulah   and   keep   her   on   track   is   her   ever   -   tired   (   but   endlessly   generous   )   father   .

her   world   is   turned   upside   down   her   freshman   year   when   her   father’s   occasional   stumble   turns   into   a   more   regular   struggle   to   keep   his   balance   ,   an   ultimate   diagnosis   of   a   degenerative   disease   rattling   their   family   as   they   know   it   .   tallulah   ,   wild   and   only   tamed   by   the   kindness   of   one   man   ,   starts   acting   out   in   an   effort   to   ignore   the   world   around   her   .   the   rift   between   herself   and   her   family   only   multiplies   when   she   discovers   her   mother   having   an   affair   as   her   father’s   health   continues   to   decline   .

he   passes   away   on   a   vacation   he   and   tallulah   take   to   the   ripley   summer   beach   house   ,   something   they   had   done   to   have   some   quiet   time   together   away   from   the   judgement   of   her   siblings   .   having   to   be   the   one   to   break   the   news   to   the   family   ,   she   feels   herself   shut   down   and   lose   whatever   desire   she   had   left   to   live   the   perfect   life   her   mother   and   siblings   tried   to   force   on   her   .

she   starts   going   almost   exclusively   by   her   surname   ,   making   it   into   holloway   more   as   a   favor   to   her   family’s   generous   donations   to   the   music   program   than   on   grades   .   she’s   barely   hanging   on   by   her   involvement   in   the   university’s   symphonic   orchestra   ,   where   she’s   a   first   chair   cellist   that   shows   up   late   to   every   damn   rehearsal   and   somehow   can   cold   sightread   well   enough   to   piss   everyone   off   ksksksk   .

given   this   ,   she’s   only   minoring   in   music   theory   to   stay   in   the   orchestra   ,   and   partially   to   feel   close   to   her   dad   .   though   her   dream   is   to   write   music   scores   for   films   ,   she’s   majoring   in   biology   to   have   a   respectable   backup   plan   .   if   she   can’t   do   music   forever   ,   she’ll   disappear   onto   a   beach   somewhere   in   costa   rica   and   be   a   marine   biologist   and   never   be   heard   from   again   lmao

PERSONALITY   :   ripley   is   happiest   shotgunning   a   white   claw   before   piling   into   the   squad   car   and   calling   aux   immediately   !   loves   her   friends   and   sees   her   circle   as   found   family   that   she   would   do   anything   for   .   

she’s   laid   back   and   observant   ,   one   of   the   quieter   in   the   group   as   she   tries   to   suss   you   out   but   is   the   first   to   approach   a   newbie   and   act   as   if   you’ve   been   friends   for   ages   .   she   makes   an   active   effort   to   not   judge   others   on   the   basis   of   first   impressions   and   tends   to   be   rather   open   minded   when   meeting   others   ,   which   makes   her   a   sort   of   universal   friend   -   to   -   all   ;   given   this   ,  when  wronged  ,  she’s   a   stubborn   little   shit   and   though   she   wont   let   them   live   rent   free   in   that   headspace   ,   she’ll   go   full   send   to   making   sure   they’re   aware   they   don’t   exist   to   her   !  

she   hates   petty   drama   and   tends   to   skirt   most   responsibility   by   sweet   -   talking   her   way   out   of   things   ,   giving   the   impression   that   she   can   be   lazy   or   unmotivated   .   this   is   true   to   some   extent   ,   such   as   with   her   grades   or   her   timeliness   ,   but   those   who   strike   the   right   balance   will   see   a   side   of   ripley   that   is   laser   focused   ,   whether   its   drunken   ramblings   about   the   brilliance   of   the   chord   progressions   on   fleetwood   mac’s   rumors   or   an   astute   observation   about   the   emotion   behind   a   certain   cello   movement   .   though   she   prefers   to   skip   the   hard   thinking   and   just   enjoy   the   moment   ,   ripley’s   admittedly   a   clever   girl   ,   simply   needing   the   right   push   to   unlock   her   truest   potential   .  

she’s   incredibly   relaxed   (   sometimes   a   bit   too   much   for   the   preference   of   some   )   and   tends   to   try   and   avoid   over   -   complicating   issues   in   order   to   not   have   to   face   them   .   especially   considering   the   infidelity   of   her   mother   ,   ripley   is   a   staunch   believer   that   relationships   are   a   waste   of   time   and   is   the   annoying   bitch   who   argues   that   being   in   love   is   a   scam   made   up   by   the   simps   to   feel   valid   !  

acts   as   if   she   isn’t   FULL   of   feelings   and   emotions   24/7   n   listens   to   emo   70’s   power   ballads   when   the   person   she   likes   doesnt   confess   their   love   for   her   under   the   moonlight   like   they   were   supposed   to   in   her   fantasy   …….   smh   .   she’s   too   busy   trying   to   be   ~cool   and   effortless~   that   she   sometimes   sabotages   the   things   that   would   bring   her   the   most   happiness   ,   then   blaming   herself   in   a   vicious   cycle   that   just   leaves   her   trying   to   distract   herself   w   crazy   antics   to   avoid   focusing   on   her   feelings   .

RANDOM BLURBS :    hates   men   n   regrets   all   attraction   to   them   .   thinks   all   women   r   too   good   for   her   .   convinced   she   will   be   a   useless   bisexual   forced   2   be   forever   alone

plays   guitar   as   a   mental   break   from   cello   and   loves   it   .   i’m   still   deciding   a   vc   for   her 

knows   the   beaches   in   maine   are   cold   af   but   wants   to   go   every   weekend   anyways

drives   the   most   impractical   soft   shell   jeep   which   sucks   in   the   east   coast   wind   and   snow   and   yet   it   is   somehow   exactly   an   embodiment   of   Her   Brand tm

like   5′9   tall   and   hates   wearing   real   people   shoes   she   said   berks   or   nOTHIN

wishes   she   could   go   vegan   but   is   so   bad   at   keeping   track   of   her   meals   she’d   forget   instantly   and   down   a   20   pack   of   chicken   nugget

too   mellow   &   apathetic   to   be   a   chaotic   neutral   but   too   adventurous   to   be   a   true   neutral   so   she   lives   somewhere   in   that   lawless   grey   space   skskskks

acts   REAL   california   for   someone   who   grew   up   exclusively   on   the   east   coast   ....   hm   .....   🤔

grew  up  disconnected  from  brazilian  culture  due  to  her  mom's  whitewashing  and  she  resents  it  greatly  .  can  understand  scattered  portuguese  but  took  spanish  in  high  school  so  that's  as  close  to  the  language  as  she'll  get  .  wants  to  take  lessons  online  tho  !

inspos r lila from umbrella academy , wynonna earp , beverly marsh from it , michelle manlon from derry girls , korra from lok , adora from she ra and the pop ,  and that ugly yellow overtone used in outer banks  💖 skskskks 

[dahniwitchoflight]

Homesquared Chapter 3

So i have seen smidgens of this on tumblr but just havent had time to do anything about it

and jesus christ Callie Jade is so horrifyingly creepy, and you know the things she’s narrating the characters can also hear which is also hilarious, it just reminds me of that comic about how “yeah sure there’s a giant ominous red floating eyeball in your kitchen, constantly staring, constantly judging, but can you be sure that’s a bad thing?”

and then someone tries to talk to it, but it doesn’t answer and the person goes “fine be an asshole i dont give a fuck”

thats exactly the dynamic happening with Callie Jade right now

Grumpy DaveKat is hilarious

and Hey! we finally get to see how people look, I really dig Roxy’s look

“ROXY: dude doesnt "believe" in "substances"”

This line from Roxy makes sense, as a person wholly ensconced in the idea of their own self and always being in control of themselves and their own mind and faculties they would hate anything at all that causes that iron mental grip to slip

That’s probably why Dirk avoided sleep even when his dreamself was awake, even sleeping and dreaming was considered a form of himself losing control over himself that he couldn’t integrate the idea himself and his dreamself were the same person rather than two identical people and also I remember that the Jujupop didn’t affect him either

Later on Dirk in the narrative will say something about his own trauma, but not really go into what it is, but if I had to hazard a guess (and really it’s not much of a guess at this point)

Dirk probably has memories of a version of himself being under the mental influence of another, Lil Cal, LE, Doc Scratch etc what have you, So Narrative Dirk may actually be a version of Dirk who’s not quite yet poisoned into being a version of those 3, but his words also hinted that just because he’s aware of a certain way that he’s acting doesn’t make him more likely to stop it

Like he’s equating that you can be aware of the influence something else is having on you and in the exact ways it is influencing you without being able to stop, the exact thing he is traumatized and afraid of being most likely

So his one driving fear, is he does not want to lose control of his own soul, his own being, his own way of life and existing, to something else, something other. Even though he most likely is fully aware of the things and mannerisms of the other that have slipped into himself? Like he’s probably fully aware of the similarities between himself and those mentioned above, but maybe the thing that he’s hinging on is that instead of those guys poisoning him into being like them, instead perhaps he can convince himself that it’s his own self influencing others to act like himself instead. His influence reaching out and expanding instead of shrinking as he fears it

Anyway, Dave and Kanaya have a cute moment, I really like that

We get a nice shot of them in shadows against a backdrop of stars and Kanaya starts talking about a story Rose would once tell so that’s story is already gonna be dripping in metaphorical potential

“ A Wriggler Story About A Young Prince And The Beloved Flower He Loved And Lost”

Though that’s a story I’m actually familiar with

KANAYA: A Singular Wild Rose He Failed To Cherish When He Had Her

KANAYA: And His Journey Of Discovering What She Meant To Him All Along

KANAYA: Culminating In A New Quest To Find Her And Win Her Back

KANAYA: The Story Comments On The Nature Of Friendship

KANAYA: And Of Course In Turn Love

KANAYA: How Once They Connect There Is No Distance Or Circumstance That Can Seperate Them

KANAYA: How The Worlds In Each Ones Mind Take On Contours Shaped By Their Memories Of The Other

KANAYA: Places And Moments And Orbiting Passersby Becoming More and More Entangled In The Context Of Their Mutual Affections

KANAYA: Such As With A Garden Calling To Mind An Engagement Once Declared There

KANAYA: Or Something To That Fucking Effect

So obviously Dirk and Rose

Dirk has Rose with him, discovers an actual genuine connection with her, likely because he already viewed her as an equal, despite his manipulations of her, and chapter 4 spoilers but he genuinely wants to play a game with her when there really isn’t any reason for it, so he is actually curious to see who comes out on top of it, Him or Her, so Dirk is probably in some way desperate to have an actual equal partner in some way instead of drowning in himself all the time, not surprising. But Rose, obviously, will leave and reject him, likely when the manipulation comes around and is revealed/Kanaya and all them reach her/that part of the story

But then the story tinges onto a romantic nature and is framing Dirk trying to get her back as a romantic quest to save his partner/friend something something love and friendship, “no distance can separate them” yeah that doesn’t sound like obsession with the first person you’ve ever truly seen as an equal/a real person, 

yeah “A Garden calling to Mind an engagement once declared there” definitely sounds like the garden of eden/adam and eve paradise fantasy that Dirk has been trying  for some reason, to setup on the new planet

Really begs the question for why Dirk cares at all to do all of this? Except we now the answer is already its not the thing itself he cares about, its the value hes putting into the story as something that generates interest in the audience

He doesn’t care about actually making a society or being gods or whatever, he just knows thats what the audience wants to see and cares about so therefore he does it

and the reason he does all of THAT is because is ties into his trauma of his sense of self eroding away becoming a person he’s unfamiliar with

I wonder how he’s going to handle how much he’s going to change in order to fit the role of the story he’s writing when all is said and done

the Dirk at the end of this is going to be very different than the Dirk that started in Homestuck, despite all of his fears and intentions, and that he could not say all of it wasnt his own doing because of the iron control he made sure to have from the very beginning, I honestly think that will be kind of a shock for him if a meeting like that ever one day happened

Specifically for the fact that he seems to be aware of the romantic in nature tropes hes writing himself and Rose into and for now still seems to be avoiding them, not having gone that far, but, well

Maybe this is where we’ll start to see where Doc Scratch’s odd tendencies starting coming from

You know he was always really weird with Rose and Vriska (Maybe because he sees Light players all as extensions of Rose herself?)

Anyway yeah this is def the story metaphor I think we’re going to see in this, but Kanaya doesn’t fully get it, she thinks the story refers to herself and Rose

DAVE: that seems kind of wack for a kids story

KANAYA: Its Possible I Am Projecting Slightly In This Specific Circumstances

KANAYA: It Was Just A Metaphor

KANAYA: But In A Way I Feel As If It Is the Greater Universe Trying To Tell Me Something

KANAYA: It May Simply Stem From My Longing To See Her Again And How Much Is Indicative Of Something More Sinister

Which is cool because it makes this opposing connection between Dirk and Kanaya as opposites, which I like because it solidifies a tiny bit more the idea of Sylph being Passive Create to A Prince’s Active destroy.

Oh yeah, there was a tiny hint of Mind metaphor as well, can’t forget Terezi is with them

KANAYA: How The Worlds In Each Ones Mind Take On Contours Shaped By Their Memories Of The Other

KANAYA: Places And Moments And Orbiting Passersby Becoming More and More Entangled In The Context Of Their Mutual Affections

KANAYA: Such As With A Garden Calling To Mind An Engagement Once Declared There

Basically the idea that your experiences of a person and your memories of them shape who they become as well, the boundary between you and I is controlled by both of us, so each has an effect of the personality Heart of the other through our own decisions and Mind

like the way people tend to mimic those they like and want to be close to, or the way they actively try to distance themselves and what they are like from those they hate

But that at all seems to be more about Mind in general than referring to anything specifically Terezi

though it is exactly that understanding of Mind versus Heart and how one affects the other that could make Dirk realize that in the question of the self he’s only had half the picture the whole time, he’s only had the understanding of Heart and has thus far not been able to understand how Mind plays a role in the sustaining of the self, how what other people do to help you to be you, which is his entire philosophical conundrum

“DAVE: the dude youve spent the last 7 years convincing yourself isnt an egomaniacal anime villain

DAVE: and who isnt actually lying in wait to completely decimate your life and your emotions and shit“

oh, that makes me sad, this is def bringing up some bad trains of thought for Dave ):

“ KARKAT: KANAYA BARELY EVEN TALKS, CALLIOPE WON’T LEAVE THEIR CABIN, JADE JUST FLOATS AROUND LIKE A CREEPY BALLOON THAT’S MOSTLY MADE OF HAIR.

OH RIGHT, I forgot Calliope is actually WITH them on their journey, despite seeming to want absolutely fuck all with Jade Callie, I totally thought she was gonna stay back on Earth C but I guess not!

It’s so odd to see them so terrified of their alternate self like this when they’ve interacted mildly before. I still don’t know what to think of that much, other than they seem to be doing that weird thing that the other kids went through, like how John scribbled clowns on the walls unknown to himself for the longest time due to Gamzee’s unseen mental influence

that’s exactly the type of shit Dirk would be afraid of, so I wonder if that’s what Callie was afraid of as well? Maybe its Jade Callie that’s influencing them this way not Gamzee, to scribble strange things on the walls and not come out, but it’s the same fear of the other regardless manifesting and changing the self.

It is a very oddly non social thing for Our Calliope to do, when the point of different between the two Callie’s was how social Calliope was versus how antisocial Jade Callie is. Worries me ): but at least they’re here I guess

KARKAT: SOMETIMES IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE WHATEVER SLATHERING MONSTROSITY OF A COSMIC HELLBEAST THAT PUT ALL THIS SHIT INTO MOTION...ACTUALLY LIKES ME?

ROXY: fucked up if tru

Karkat is really popular as a character in the fandom lol

and that’s that one, time to get to Chapter 4, which has a lot more juicy exposition

With all the Garden of Eden metaphors though I can’t help but think of the Apple of the Garden of Eden when I think of “story exposition” now

The juicy tantalizing forbidden red fruit that when you bit into it you suddenly understand and know things you did not before and you’re eyes are opened, I wonder if that’s enough to just make Apples a solid Symbol of Light in Homestuck’s context? Most of it’s association with knowledge is external to Homestuck, just referenced symbolically, it’s not actually used in any cirumstances pertaining to knowledge, but more as the metaphor of it being the gate to leave the garden of eden, more like a teleporter, Rapture and Revelation in general rather than just Knowledge itself

aka my new headcanon is that one thing needed to Alchemize a Transportalizer is inexplicably going to be an Apple, if that ever comes up at all

[maandags]

Eidolon (Angel!Keith x Demon! reader) {part iii}

something resembling peace n  quiet (ish) b4 the real shitstorm yeet

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Summary: Keith is an angel, and he’s completed mission after mission for the Upper Hand, the organisation controlling all of the Above. He’s only failed a mission once: when he was assigned to kill you, a surprisingly charismatic demon. He roamed Earth–Middle Ground–for years before he was caught by the Upper Hand again, and things quickly go south.

Word count: 6.3K

Genre: Angst 

Notes: ft witch!Coran bc he doesnt get enough love -- masterlist -- {previous} -- {next} --

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small-town boy in a big arcade

i got addicted to a losing game

 ~ Arcade, Duncan Laurence

---

His fever isn't going down.

It's been five days and his fever just won't go down.

He's passed out on your couch, waking up occasionally so you can feed him and give him water to drink. Sometimes you have to shake him for minutes at a time just so he wakes up. You tried everything you knew, but the medicine you give him has no effect and the medicine you probably need is nowhere at your disposal.

It's safe to say you have no clue how to proceed and also are frustrated: you're risking everything here. You're risking being found by everything you have been outrunning for years and years. The combined auras of an angel and a demon are the closest thing to a signal flare you know.

And he just might die, and it will all have been for nothing, and you might still be located by Management and you would have to move. Quite bittersweet, you think wryly.

So Keith dying isn't an option. That much is clear. But as you sit in your armchair and glare at him, arms wrapped around the knees you pulled up to your chest, you have no idea as to how you're going to stop it from happening.

You clumsily wrapped him in a blanket when he collapsed on your couch. He's kicked it off since, and it lies in a bundle at his feet. His skin is ashy and pale and sweaty and his hair sticks to his forehead.

And his fucking fever isn't going down.

Usually you'd go straight to a doctor if any of your human friends were to contract a fever this stubborn–but you suspected bringing a dying angel to the average doctor won't do much good except frighten the poor sod to death. He looks like Death, you remark. What with his black wings and overall dark aesthetic, which is quite rare for an angel to have. You think, at least. It's not like you've met lots of them.

You sigh, filling a glass of water and holding it to his lips. He reacts almost subconsciously–he's not quite all there, but he's gulping the water down with gusto and you can only pray to the Dark Below that he'll hold it down, though that did seem to get better the last day or so.

The first two days were a nightmare. Keith tossed and turned and held nothing down, his stomach too upset. You had him spend his second night in your bathtub because he puked all over your couch. When he was asleep (which was most of the time) he had nightmares and whimpered constantly, and when he was awake he had hallucinations, his eyes clouded over. He even tried to attack you at one point ('tried' being the keyword here–he took a most pathetic swing at your face and cried when you dodged it easily).

If you had any common sense, you would have kicked him out long ago–hell, if you had any common sense, you never even would have considered taking him in.

Yet he is here. And you are here. And you don't exactly know how to feel about that.

Half the time you wish he'd just die already so you could be done at least with all of this. The next moment you feel horribly guilty and internally yell at yourself for thinking that way–because you made this choice. You decided to help him, and you should go through with it, even if it meant to be woken up at three in the morning because Keith was wailing again.

You brush your fingers across his forehead, hoping against better knowledge his fever had gone down, but he's still burning up. He's not tossing and turning anymore, he's not throwing up everywhere anymore. The last time he had a nightmare you actually noticed was more than a day ago. His breaths are shallow and irregular, and while you're no doctor, you know that's never a good sign.

You'd almost gotten used to having him in your apartment, and now you barely even notice he's here.

You've been on some extensive phone calls with Allura since Keith flopped into your life (which mostly consist of you yelling and Allura listening, occasionally muttering "go off, sis" into the horn) and you were itching for one now. You pull out your phone. Allura picks up on the third ring.

"Y/N, love, I have time for like, maybe a ten minute rant, because I'm at work and even though it's my break time my co-workers are giving me huge side-eyes and I still have four hours to go–"

"That's okay," you say quickly. "I'm fine, actually. No rants."

Allura pauses. "Sure about that?"

"Positive. I just had a question." You decide to throw in your favourite excuse whenever you have a weird question. As a nurse and your friend, Allura is often your first choice if you need to fact-check anything health-related."I'm writing this story..."

"Ah," Allura says. "Of course. Shoot."

You feel kind of bad for lying to her. But then again, telling the truth isn't really an option here, is it? "What does one do to break a fever that's been going strong for, say, five days, and literally no kind of aspirin is working and you can't take them to a doctor?"

"Huh. Well. All you can really do without, like, medical intervention, is wait, really. Yes, Jane, I'll be done in a minute. Have them sweat it out. Keep hydrated, remove excess layers of clothing, all that jazz. How high of a fever are we talking?"

"Um..." You glance at the thermometer on the coffee table. You'd taken his temperature just before calling Allura, to see if there was any change. Spoiler alert, there wasn't. "41.2 degrees Celcius."

Allura whistles. "For an adult? 'Cause if this is a kid, they have a problem."

"No, no, it's an adult."

"Okay. Well. You know, fevers aren't inherently bad for you. It's actually a way for the body to, like, kill heat-sensitive bacteria and viruses. So it's actually a good thing. Honestly I'm gonna just advise your character to stay in bed and drink water and sit in front of a fan. They should be fine."

You pucker your lips, poking Keith's arm with your toe. He doesn't move. "All right."

"You sound kind of unsure," says Allura, a tinge of concern to her voice. A pause. "Certain this is a fictional character?"

You bite back a curse. "Well. You know. I was–I was just curious."

Allura sighs. You imagine her rubbing the back of her neck as she shakes out her legs. "You know... as a medical professional–" the sarcasm drips from her voice– "I'm not really supposed to, like, recommend these types of methods to people because generally everyone thinks they're bullshit, but..." She hesitates. "My uncle Coran has this shop. He sells lots of weird, like, plants and crystals and crap like that. God, I can't believe I'm saying this. He might be able to help. Here's the address."

You lurch over to your desk and snatch a pencil and a post-it block, scribbling down the address she dictates. "Thanks, Allura."

"You are very welcome, dearest, but I really need to get back to work now. Bye."

"Bye."

You stare at the note for a while after Allura hung up. You don't exactly know the place, but a quick Google search helps you pinpoint it. It's not even that far, maybe a 20 minute walk. But something makes you feel uncomfortable about it.

He sells lots of weird, like, plants and crystals and crap like that.

It definitely sounds like something you should be a bit suspicious of. Plants and crystals. Hm.

But then again, you think as you cast another look at Keith who hasn't moved in over an hour, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, it's not like you have many other options.

Allura said to wait it out. But maybe fevers aren't as harmless on angels as they are on humans. Maybe waiting it out will kill him, and you will have to live with it knowing that you did nothing to stop it.

Grumbling through gritted teeth, you yank your jacket from its hanger, write out a quick note for Keith in case he wakes up (he probably won't, but just in case) and dash out the door.

It takes you surprisingly long to find the place.

What was a 20 minute walk turned to a 30 minute walk, then to an hour long walk. You zoom in on your phone's map, narrowing your eyes and combing through every little alley you passed, gnashing your teeth. No matter how hard you look, the shop simply doesn't seem to exist anywhere but on the map. Is this Allura's idea of a prank?

But that's not like her, you remind yourself. And somehow, the fact that you can't seem to reach the place only makes you want to find it more. So you grit your teeth and clench the note with the address (that you just can't seem to memorize, no matter how hard you try) in your fist and march on.

You round a corner and slam into a tall and lanky body.

You yelp, arms flying out to regain your balance. The person in front of you gives a surprised hum–they don't seem to be fazed at all. You look up, prepared to give them a scolding about how they've got to watch where they're fucking going and blink, all words dying in your throat.

"You okay, kiddo?" says the most eccentric-looking man you've ever seen.

"Uh..." you give your head a shake, trying not to stare at the man's bright orange hair and moustache, or the fact that he's dressed like one of those fortune tellers out of fantasy stories, complete with the huge ornate earrings and everything. "Yeah. Fine. Thanks."

The man's light eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you make a mental note to not let his appearance deceive you: you have the feeling he's much smarter than he looks. "Were you looking for something?"

You clamp your mouth shut, running a hand through your hair. "Hm. Actually. Yes." You frown, wondering if this is a good idea, but if anyone would know where Coran's shop is–the shop selling weird crystals and plants and crap like that–this dude would be it. You hold up the crumpled note. "Do you know where this place is?"

The man takes one look at the writing and smiles, a wide and slightly unhinged grin that has you almost instantly regretting your choice. "Well, I sure would hope I know where my own shop is!"

You try and resist the urge to flinch. "Oh, really?" you squeak, shrinking back. It's not a very demon-like thing to do, you think at the very back of your mind, but this guy looks like he could give even the scariest entities of the Below a run for their money. "Neat."

The man–who you assume is Coran–grins even wider and whips an arm around your shoulders. "Well, then! Let's not beat around the bush any longer!" He has an accent you can't place. It fits him, strangely. Everything about the guy is strange.

He whirls around, dragging you with him, and walks exactly three steps before slamming open the door to the shop on the corner. You frown, ducking out from under his arm and giving him a suspicious glare. "What is this? I've passed this shop at least five times." You glance up at the sign and do a double take. Where had previously hung a sad wooden board announcing a tailor's shop hangs now a weirdly pretty sign that seems to be made out of plants. Vines twisting to and fro and entwining and overlapping, fluorescent yellow-and-blue flowers you have never seen before dropping from it in clumps. It sways slightly in the air. There is no wind.

All the hairs stand up at the back of your neck and your fists clench at your sides.

"Maybe you weren't looking hard enough," comes Coran's amused voice from behind you. You spin on your heels, narrowing your eyes at him. You're not unfamiliar with these kinds of experiences–the supernatural, the unsettling, the technically-impossible–yet Coran manages to throw you off in a way nothing really has before.

The atmosphere around you has dimmed, the sole source of light the doorway and the glowing flowers dangling from the sign. You're not in the alley you were in not one minute ago anymore. Coran raises an eyebrow and cocks his head, and you notice how different he looks in this new environment. He fits here perfectly. The slight curl of his lips says, Well? What are you waiting for?

You think of Keith. How he would react if he were in this situation. If the roles were reversed and you were the one dying on his sofa. You push the door open and march into the shop.

You almost slam directly into a tree.

"Careful, careful," says Coran quickly as he grabs your elbow. He slips past you and leads you into his shop that looks like no other shop you've ever seen.

Shelves are stacked with pots and vials and little baggies, all propped one on top of the other. It looks extremely unstable. You resist the urge to pluck out one jar from the bottom and see if everything tumbles down.

Every price tag is hand-written, and when you take a closer look a chill runs down your spine. One never-before shared secret. Three childhood memories. none of the prices ask for actual money, which now seems pretty useless and weighs down the wallet in your pocket. One particular tag says Your deepest fear. How dramatic.

Every plant seems to glow, for some reason. You notice more of those fluorescent yellow-and-blue flowers like the ones hanging from the sign outside, and flowers that look similar but in different colours. There are plants that remind you of grapevines, snaking around trees and shelves and tangling themselves around every support they can find. Clusters of small transparent bells float from the branches, even smaller flicks of light trapped inside them. You squint at one of them, grabbing it out of the air and studying it closely. Something is fluttering inside of the little sphere. A firefly, maybe. Maybe. When you release it, it zips back to its original spot among the other glowing bubbles.

Coran plucks a few dead leaves from a tree stump partially hidden from view by a huge black-and-white striped candle. He grinds the leaves to dust in the palm of his hand and drops them in the candle's flame. It glows bright green for a moment, then a comforting scent begins to spread through the air. You inhale deeply out of reflex. It smells like nothing you've ever smelled before, vaguely familiar scents all mushed into one; your favourite hot chocolate (with a hint of caramel), Allura's fruity conditioner, the animal shampoo you use on the dogs at the shelter. The air when it's just stopped raining. Towels, fresh out of the dryer.

You blink yourself back to reality with a sharp jerk of your head. Coran is already moving on to the very back of the shop and you hurry to catch up with him, ducking to avoid the arms of a rather sad-looking ragdoll as they reach for you. "Hey, hey–who are you?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Coran."

"Yes, I know that, but like–" you gesture vaguely to the general space around you– "who are you?"

Coran thinks about that for a moment, one finger pressed to the side of his nose. "A hobbyist," he decides.

"Right." You take a step back, eyeing the dark and slimy substance shlorping across the floor towards your feet suspiciously. It shrinks back beneath your glare. "What are those hobbies, exactly?"

"You know," says Coran, waving his arms around, "plants. Medicine. The occasional cursed artifact. Just regular stuff like that."

"Regular stuff like that," you echo. Caws sound from above you. When you look up, you spot a bird slightly hidden in the shadows of the tree in which it is perked (was that tree this big before?), glowing red eyes fixated on yours. You raise an eyebrow at it, cocking your head. It mirrors you, feathers ruffling and swooping from one side of its head to the other. It screams again, then spreads its wings and climbs up the tree with a speed you didn't expect. Literally climbs: there are claws on the joints of its wings that it uses to hack into the tree's bark. You brush a bit of dust off your shoulder and continue walking.

Stepping over the puddle of dark slime, you follow Coran even further into the shop. "You said you do medicine," you shout after him. "I need medicine to save my–" The words hitch in your throat. What is Keith to you? An acquaintance? An enemy? A guest? "My friend," you settle on.

Coran throws you a look over his shoulder, throwing off his ornate blue coat and suspending it in the air where it floats obediently beside him. He plants a hand on a bony hip. "Your friend," he repeats, a glint in his eyes you don't trust at all.

"Yeah." He's not getting more out of you, you assure yourself. That's it.

Coran watches you for a moment. "Hm." He turns around and starts rummaging through the shelves packed with jars and boxes and bottles, pulling out a number that all look the same to you, but evidently Coran knows exactly what he's doing. Occasionally he asks you questions.

"Reasonably high fever, is that right?"

"Yes."

He fumbles for a mortar and dumps a clump of brown-reddish leaves in it.

"Hallucinations? Nightmares? Inexplicable bouts of extreme hunger?"

"Yes, yes, and... no? Not that I know of?"

Humming, he adds a few drops of a clear liquid and a pinch of powder from a leather pouch. The mixture starts to sizzle and you eye it cautiously. Its colour shifts from a muddy purple to a darker blue. Coran whistles through his teeth, narrowing his eyes at the many pots around him as he searches for the next ingredient. His eyes focus on something behind you and he gestures with his pestle. "Grab that round orange pot for me, will you."

You turn. The pot in question is small and kind of hard to spot, and you have to twist your arm in strange shapes to reach it from where it's blocked by other plants and rocks. It's dusty and surprisingly heavy, and when you turn it over there's a crudely painted picture of a skull on the lid. Your head snaps up and your fingers tighten around the pot.

Coran rolls his eyes. "I didn't have any other pot to put it in. I'm not gonna murder your friend."

You hand the pot over to him reluctantly, keeping a close eye on whatever it is he's doing. Inside is a reddish-brown paste, and Coran scoops two heavy spoonfuls out and mixes it into the blue mixture. It becomes a pleasant shade of violet. He grabs a round marble-like thing from a vase filled with similar spheres and chucks it into a fire pit at your feet. Flames burst to life, searing hot and sending you stumbling back from the wave of pure heat that comes rolling over you. Coran puts a lid on the mortar and drops it into the fire.

"So, that's gotta bake for a minute," he says cheerily, spinning around and clapping his hands. He snaps his fingers, and immediately vines begin writhing and entwining until a stool has formed. He plops down, facing you. "You have questions. Ask them. Go on."

"Will you answer them?"

he flashes that wicked grin of his. "Maybe."

You grit your teeth, staring into the flames roaring in their pit. The longer you look at them, the wilder they grow. Agitated.

"Oh, dear, don't look at them. They don't like being watched."

Your gaze snaps back to him. "How did you know what's wrong with my friend?"

"I didn't. I guessed," he adds with an eyeroll when you narrow your eyes at him. "It's easier to guess than you might think. When customers are especially preoccupied with something I can usually read it right off of them. You were no different."

"Right." You pause, not sure which of the hundred and forty questions swirling through your mind to ask next. "What if the medicine doesn't work? Can I come back?"

"It'll work."

"But if it doesn't–"

"Are you doubting my abilities?"

"What? No, but–"

"It'll work."

His tone makes it clear there's no room for discussion. At the sight of his dangerously glinting eyes (or maybe they're just reflecting the flickering flames) you decide to veer onto a safer topic. "Can everyone get into your shop? Why couldn't I find it until you showed me?"

Coran slouches a bit in his throne of vines (it's got a back and armrests now, too, and it's growing those little glowing grapes) and considers the question. "Everyone can technically get into the shop," he says slowly, as if carefully choosing his words, "but not everyone will. It's not hidden, exactly–not to the people who aren't looking."

That confuses you. "So you're saying one won't be able to find the shop if they're actively looking for it?"

"Sort of."

"Does that mean that the people who do find it aren't looking for it in the first place?"

"I guess so? Man, kid, you're asking difficult questions."

"I'm curious." You fold your arms, tucking your chin down to your chest. "And that makes no sense anyway because I found it and I was looking for it. So."

"Yeah, but you didn't find it until you actually ran into me and I showed you." Coran leaps up and stretches out his lanky limbs. "So, we still have a bit of time left before that's ready. Do you want to arrange payment now?"

Caution crept into your veins as you remember the strange price tags you saw upon entering the store. But you're not getting this medicine for free, you remind yourself. Keith won't get better by himself. The price was the price and you're willing to pay it. So you nod.

Coran grabs a box. He opens it, and inside are the last things you expected: stacks of paper, each one scribbled upon with minute precision, every sheet adorned with different handwriting. He hands you a blank sheet: it's about the size of a business card, yellowish-white and kind of grainy to the touch. It reminds you of parchment.

He also hands you a pen. It looks like a regular ballpoint pen, and when you shoot him a questioning look–you had expected at least, like, a quill with purple ink or something–he shrugs. "They're cheap. And easy to charm."

Right. You roll your eyes. "So what's the price?"

His eyes are just a little bit too shiny. "What do you want most?"

You sigh, long and drawn out. Your grip on the pen tightens ever so slightly. "Really? The way too overused one?"

Coran shrugs again, gesturing to the blank card in front of you. "It's overused for a reason, kid. It just happens to work really well."

You clench your jaw, tapping the pen against the wooden surface of the table, forcing yourself to think about the question in a serious manner.

What do you want most?

You rack your brain for an answer, puckering your lips. There are a lot of things you want. You want Allura to be safe and happy. She's got a demon for a friend, for fuck's sake. You want to not have to worry every day about Management finally tracking you down and locking you up in the Below. To feel safe.

You bring the point of the pen down to the paper and start writing, frowning when the ink doesn't appear. You go over the lines a few times, even scribble a bunch of lines in a corner to get the pen to work, but to no avail. The ink stubbornly refuses to stain your piece of parchment.

"Your pen doesn't work," you say, irritated.

Coran casts you a knowing smile. "It works just fine. Try again."

You try again. No results. You throw down the pen, letting your head drop and taking a deep breath as you lean against the desk, because you know exactly where this is going. You have experience with these kinds of enchanted objects. You chew on the inside of your cheek, glaring at the pen as if it personally murdered your firstborn.

It wants the truth.

And you refuse. You refuse to give it what it wants because it's ridiculous. Absolutely and utterly ridiculous.

But this is the price. This is the price you told yourself you would pay no matter what.

A deep breath. One more.

You snatch up the pen, gripping it so tightly your knuckles go white, and press it down onto the paper. Immediately the ink flows out, letting you write your re-evaluated answer. It almost seems to sneer at you and when you throw the pen down, handing the card to a way too smug-looking Coran, you refuse to look him in the eye.

The medicine is ready.

Coran pulls it out of the fire using tongs (because it might be magical fire, but it's still fire, and it's generally not a good idea to stick your hand in fire) and drops it in a tub of water you're sure wasn't there before. A moment later he pulls it out and removes the lid.

The paste has transformed itself into a rock-hard ball about the size of a large pill, perfectly round and kind of rough and sandy at the surface, and when Coran hands it to you it's almost freezing to the touch. It startles you so much that you almost drop it.

"Smash it to bits and put the shards in this here baggie–" he hands you what looks like a tea filter– "and let it hang in a glass of cold water for a while. When the thingie's drained of its colour and goes clear and the water has turned bright blue you make sure he drinks the whole thing before it goes warm, yeah? That's very important. He's gotta drink it right away, and he's gotta drink the whole thing. It might not work as well if he doesn't drink the whole thing."

The fact that Coran refers to the pill as "the thingie" makes you more than a bit uncomfortable, but you decide to take his word for it, because what other choice do you have?

"Right." You turn to leave, when one more thing pops into your mind. "Actually," you face him again, "I have one more question."

Coran sighs. "You have a lot of questions."

You ignore him. "How do you know Allura? Or, rather, how does Allura know you? She's the one that gave me your address in the first place," you explain. "She's my friend."

To your surprise, Coran smiles–a genuine smile this time, where his eyes crinkle in the corners, not the manic grin he's shown up till now. "I knew her father very well. I've watched her grow up. She knows she can always knock on my door."

It doesn't make much sense–what business would Allura's dad, world-famous scientist, have with this man? You decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. "How much does she know? About all this?"

"I think she knows, deep down. I don't know how much she believes. What she tells herself is real, and what isn't."

You hesitate. "Does she know about me? What I am, I mean?"

Coran heaves an exasperated sigh. "Yeesh, kid. How am I supposed to know that? I didn't even know who you were up till now!" But you get the feeling he's lying. "Now get going. Go on." He starts shooing you towards the door, gently pushing you through the shop.

You blink in surprise, too stunned to do anything but follow suit. "Wait," you stammer. "Wait, I have more questions! Will I be able to come back?"

But Coran waves you off, giving you nothing but a smile and a "Bye-bye!"

You stumble over the threshold, the pill and its baggie in your clenched fist. Cold renders your fingers almost numb, and you open them, exposing the pill to the night air. White smoke curls up from it, and you turn it over to your other hand, wincing as you rub your fingers to get a bit of warmth in them again. It's like you're holding a hailstone.

When you look up, you're disoriented by the bright lights from street lamps around you, and the fact that you're not in the same alley you were in before you entered Coran's shop. It's not even the same block. You make a full turn, dazed, before you recognise the little grocery store on the corner of the street: it's the store where you do most of your shopping. It's right across from your apartment building. Coran deposited you as close as he could to your home.

You push open the door to your apartment with your shoulder, icy pill in one hand and two bottles of chocolate milk and scotch whisky in the other, letting exhaustion creeping into your muscles as soon as you enter the familiar environment. One look to your sofa confirms Keith has barely moved over the hours you were gone. The note and the glass of water you left for him sit untouched on the coffee table.

You make your way to the kitchen and set down the bottles, grabbing a small tray on which you drop the pill. Smash it to bits, said Coran. The back end of a kitchen knife does the job just fine. To your surprise, the pill shatters immediately, shards flying everywhere. You curse, sweeping them all up and dropping them into the tea filter and filling a glass with cold water. As soon as you hang the bag in the glass, blue drips out of it in wisps, slowly tinting the water a cool blue colour. You drop onto a kitchen chair and watch with your chin in your hands, the droplets of blue seeping from the bag mesmerising.

When the water doesn't seem to get any bluer, you peek into the bag. The shards are completely colourless, now resembling bits of clear glass more than anything else. You carefully pick up the glass, hissing through your teeth at the coldness of it.

Keith is still fast asleep, shivering. He's thin, you notice. You can see his ribs through his shirt. Setting the glass down on the coffee table, you try gently nudging him awake. He doesn't respond.

"Come on," you grumble, grabbing his face and tapping his cheek. "Wake up!" Your stomach twists at the thought that he might not wake up in time. The medicine will have warmed up. You should have woken him before preparing it! "Please," you whisper, swallowing back the lump in your throat. "Don't let this have been for nothing. Come on. Wake up, dammit!"

He groans under your touch. You breathe out a shaky sigh of relief as you coerce him into sitting up. "Don't you fucking dare fall asleep again." He looks at you groggily.

You raise the glass to his chapped lips. "Drink up."

He takes a sip and flinches, bursting into coughs. "Cold," he manages. You almost wince at how weak his voice sounds–barely a whisper. He'll get better, you remind yourself. He just has to drink this and he'll get better.

"I know," you mutter, nudging the glass to his lips again. "Drink it. It'll make you feel better."

He eyes you suspiciously but obliges, squeezing his eyes shut as he gulps down the contents of the glass. He shivers, smacking his lips when it's empty and you put it on the floor. "Ah. Gross." But as he shifts, you can already see the colour return to his cheeks.

"Rest," you say, brushing strands of hair away from his forehead. "You'll feel better in the morning." Your voice is shaky and your hands tremble as you bring the glass back to the kitchen and thoroughly wash it, using about a quarter of the bottle of dish soap, running it under the hot water until the stubborn cold is completely gone.

You're tired. You don't even have the energy to shower, so you brush your teeth and crumple into bed, only taking off your boots and trousers. You keep your socks on and pull the comforter tighter around you. You're cold.

As you turn to face the wall, you think back to Coran's stupid enchanted pen. Wondering if you've made a mistake. The words you ended up writing down looping through your mind, over and over again, lighting up in front of you whenever you close your eyes. What do you want most?

I want to be safe from Management, was your first answer. The answer the pen hadn't let you write down. And it was what you wanted most–or at least what you wanted most until Keith had shown up on your doorstep just over a week ago.

What do you want most?

You drift off to sleep, the question nagging at the back of your mind.

You jolt awake at the crash, bolting up from your bed and racing for the kitchen, where the sound had come from. In your hand is the knife you keep in your nightstand. Your knuckles are white around the hilt. You slam a hand on the light switch, and the person bent over and hidden behind your fridge hits their head and yells in pain, and you brandish your knife and scream at them to Stay back!

"It's just me! Y/N!" Keith says, holding up his hands above his head.

You huff out a breath, letting the knife drop to your side. "Keith?"

He nods, blinking and squinting against the bright light. You're only barely over the shock of seeing him up and about, yet you can't help but notice how thin he looks and how weary and sunken his eyes are. His eyes keep flicking back to the knife still in your hand, and you quickly snap it shut, slipping it in the pocket of your sweatpants.

"So I take it you're feeling better?"

He nods again. "I'm hungry," he says. His voice isn't quite back to normal–it's still quite hoarse from not having used it in over five days–but you suspect it won't take very long. "Sorry for startling you. I'll go back to sleep."

You grab his arm before he can walk past you. "Nonsense. You've slept for five days straight. I'm hungry too, anyway. I can order takeout?"

He gives you a tentative smile. "That'd be great."

And that's how you end up sitting in your brightly lit kitchen at four in the morning, eating out of cardboard Chinese takeout boxes, with an angel whose life you saved. His wings are completely concealed now and don't bother him when he sits in a chair or lies down. While neither of you talks much, you both sneak glances when you think the other isn't looking.

What do you want most?

He looks nervous, and even though he insists he's not tired you can tell he's fighting against the weight of his eyelids, his movements droopy and slow, as if he's moving through layers of syrup. When he almost drops his fork (at four A.M. you're allowed to eat Chinese with a fork) out of exhaustion, you nudge his leg with your foot under the table.

"Go back to sleep."

"I'm fine. I'm still hungry."

"You can eat tomorrow. You're barely able to hold yourself upright, idiot."

He sighs but pushes his chair back and stands up. His knees immediately buckle beneath him, and you shoot out of your chair and only just manage to catch him before he drops to the ground. "All right, okay. There we go. I got you."

"Not feeling as good as I thought," Keith mutters into your shoulder as you practically drag him to the sofa.

"Evidently."

You tuck him in (it seems like such a childish gesture–but curled up like that, looking thin and fragile, Keith reminds you of a small kid and it just feels like the right thing to do) and resist the weird urge to plant a kiss on his forehead. You settle for a somewhat awkward pat on the shoulder.

You stick the leftover food in the fridge and make your way back to your own room. You're still kind of cold, so you keep the sweatpants and sweatshirt on, bringing the knife out of your pocket and setting it back on your nightstand before climbing into bed.

The buzzing of the city outside of your window keeps you up for hours as you toss and turn. Feelings you don't know what to make of churn through you. Relief at the fact that the medicine seems to be working. Fear, because you don't really know how to proceed now. A demon saving an angel's life–that one's pretty much unheard of, you think bitterly.

Oh, if Management were to find out... not only would your fate be settled, you would have signed Keith's death warrant along with it. The comforter bunches in your clenched fists and you twist around, shutting your eyes resolutely.

What do you want most?

[bitchryver]

controversial opinion you should give us your bi aelin headcanons

sorry this took so long to answer I’ve been on a hunt for receipts x

aelin ashryver is bisexual: a summary

-I’m indebted forever to @blackbeaktrash for pointing this out to me but uhhh remember that post about how Mulan Korra and the short one from the time traveling lesbian game all had one thing in common- the bisexual hair cut ? hello aelins fresh chop in HoF

- the assassin and the desert. every single line. is a wlw tragedy romance ripped straight from a mythology.

- let’s get some direct quotes from the gay awakening that was the assassin and the desert:

~

“Celaena tried not to look too interested, though the girl was one of the most stunning people she’d ever beheld.”

~

“And somehow, the thought of returning to Rifthold without Ansel was a tad unbearable.”

~

“Celaena couldn’t stop her lips from trembling as she asked, “Was it ever real?”

“Ansel opened one eye, staring at the far wall. “There were some moments when it was. The moment I sent you away, it was real.”

~

“ And I think she sent you away because she truly cared for you.

She hated her mouth for wobbling. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

-like Sam is nice rip but I refuse to believe he was aelins first love interest when ansel exists

- i understand where people are coming from when they talk about malide being canon if manon was a man but….i present example a- ansel and celaena the original gay love story to never happen and yet be laced with romantic chemistry

-anyway read the gayssassin and the desert

-aelin describing every woman she meets as beautiful and ethereal and then men are like…’he was tall. he had sword’

- yrene in tab: ‘wow I’d love to travel and be a healer so I could help people’

-aelin, emptying her pockets: you’re so pretty I love you here’s a sack full of cash is that enough? You’re so talented ily

-she loves swords & swords belong to the gays

-aelin calling cha0l ugly the first time she meets him…compared with yrene, a straight woman who’s immediately attracted to him…..Noah fence but….that was her gaydar trying to warn her :/

-aelins the only one who calls out these dumb ass white frat boys on their privilege and their upper class straight man bullshit!!shes having none of it !!!

-doriman in tog: “hey aelin? would you ever consider putting your life at risk and jeopardizing your safety to be with me?”

-aelin, right before she goes to have breakfast in bed with her beloved idol nehemia:

-while we’re on the subject, aelin taking literal WEEKS to notice if a mans attractive or not but describing every woman she meets as good looking within SECONDS even if she hates them

-Like LOOK

-I mean I cannot relate to the straight experience but I cannot imagine this is how a straight woman talks about women

-SHE DOESNT EVEN LIKE LYSANDRA AND SHES ALL IN THERE TALKING ABOUT HER ‘SENSOUS MOUTH’ IN QOS i mean

-aelin: the woman was built like a mythical goddess…she radiated beauty and sensuality from every pore

-aelin : this is rowan he’s my husband and he’s built like a TANK

-It took aelin six months to realize he was hot compared to literally everybody else who wanted to jump him mere seconds after meeting him(with the exception of manon, a proud lesbian but anyway)

-girl cannot sit in a fucking chair properly!! always throwing herself sideways or dangling off of it or slouching in it or something

-spitting jewels out of her mouth? Performing foreplay in a room full of powerful men and borian? gay

-i don’t know about you gals but I always get a ring engraved to give to my personal (straight)friends when I ask them to spend the rest of their life with me…

-when Rowan’s like ‘aw man can’t wait to get back and go to bed with my wife’ and the next line is like ‘aelin and lysandra were lying together, asleep’

-aelin saw the absolute straight man manic pixie nonsense quail and dorito were throwing at her and was like ‘bummer uhhh fuck both of you?’ instead of wasting her life and energy on men who didn’t appreciate her that’s all bi energy babes!

-aelin and manon having a metaphorical dick measuring contest but with swords

-aelin polishing nesryns dagger and dreaming of buying her a new one

-aelin telling kale that nesryn can speak for herself !!! Shut up!!!

- nesryn: mind your own business brullo lmao #nosy as fuck

-aelin, who had a dagger at this woman’s back not even 12 hours earlier:

-Aedion: haha…so aelin only invited nesryn out to have drinks with us because she needed an extra pair of hands because I was injured….what a smart strategic move

-aelin: nesryn you look lonely do you want to come with us ? Tell me about yourself. What’s your family like? How do you get your hair so smooth? Do you want my social security number?

-aelin loved nehemia so much she dumped stale whitebread and got written off as a terrible character by the Discourse Police: Cha0l Division. that’s love.

-attempting to murder the man ur fuckin after he’s involved in the murder of your beloved gay friend? hm. not a straight aura but #prove #me #wrong

-aelin keeps all her nails long except her sword hands so she can keep the aesthetic and weapon functionality but also keep a gay functionality

- in tower of dawn whomst does aelin write to? out of every one of the royal family ? lesbian icon and love of my life Hasar. aelin sensed incredible chaotic gay wlw energy from ACROSS the sea and knew immediately where the real power was. gaydar in action

- aelin has impeccable taste in fashion and upholstery, unrivaled by any other person in tog

-listen I live with 2 straight people and I promise you. The only one who cares enough about proper home decor, mood lighting and pretty things that were very expensive- is the gay one: me

-all the men hate her all the women love her lmao that says it all

- chaotic disaster gay aelin ashryver. Hurricane wlw nightmare woman tearing through these streets

-made a post about it here already but aelins like ‘fuck I can’t like manon but her fucking sword is so cool jesus christ’ that’s gay

- when aelin finds out manon graciously allowed snorian to have sex with her: I do NOT approve but go ahead ruin ya life lol

-when aelin finds out manon left elide alone in oakweld: what the FUCK did you do to that precious beautiful angel were it not for the laws of this land-

-MANON ‘LESBIAN’ BLACKBEAK herself says aelin radiates a gay aura she’s disappointed when she meets her in eos because all the batshit chaotic neutral gay has been depleted from her due to over exposure to straight men

-manons entire arc re: aelin in eos was ‘i should rip her throat out but i get where this stupid gay is coming from so’

-aelin giving a woman she’s just met the necklace her abuser gave her on her 16th? power move. gay power move.

- i love her so much but she’s. so goddamn stupid. and that’s such a mood

- Getting My Whole Ass Out To Prove Were Platonic Friends …that’s a level of denial I can’t even cover

-don’t know if I said it earlier but when aelin asks Lys to join her and lys says oh are you proposing, aelin..doesn’t say no lmao she’s just like ‘tragically I find myself with a life partner’

-lysandra sleeping on aelins lap while aelin downs 2 bottles of wine and flirts with ansel, while all the men look on annoyed that aelin did all of their jobs for them- gay imagery

- listen if ansel ‘murdered my boyfriend of 5yrs saving the girl I knew for a month’ briarcliff approves of you then…you’re gay. you just are.

-aelin ’ill murder you if so much as make EYE CONTACT with any of my women’ ashryver

- I said it already but. There is no better way to indicate that you are living life as our lady sappho intended than having a plethora of boring straight men hate you.

-That’s one of the things you need to have before they let you be gay

-aelins the only character who’s like- you know what I’m missing from my life? Women. I should go out and meet more of those

-killing the man who murdered your beloved friend in the exact same way he tortured her killing the man who set it up and basking in his blood am I right ladies

-aelin acknowledging she’s pretty because she works at it ? Maybe the only ya fantasy character who cannonically exfoliates, moisturizes, and uses toner and serum??? And you except me to sit here and assume she’s straight ???? In this economy ?????

-and yeah I’m absolutely 100% projecting because i love her. maybe blonde emotional chaotic bisexual fashion icons should look after each other now and then.

what do I know i clearly missed the gay memo where we all hate her now or something lmaooo anyway

[gaymafia]

I’m legitimately curious why people didn’t like the last Jedi? I saw it and thought it was okay? Is there something I missed or? Like it wasn’t great but it was passable?

ok so i wasnt gonna do this here bc nobody fucking asked but u asked so thank u but also strap in ur ready for a while ride

TLJ spoilers, obviously. also my issues are going to be numbered in no particular order bc my thoughts on this movie are so fucking scrambled but here we go

1. Kyle Ron. First of all fuck Ryeanne for making me see so many goddamn closeups of Adam Driver’s ugly ass face. I did not need to see all that he is so goddamn ugly especially that fucking shirtless scene where he looks like a block of pasty ass pale wood.

But for real, Kylo Ren. I don’t actually take issue with his existence, because Kyle really does excellently represent rich ass white boys who have everything handed to them but throw a hissy fit when they face the slightest adversity an throw tantrums all the time. It’s nice to see a villain that represents most people real-life nightmares instead of like, a Sexy Temptress or Old Evil Man or whatever. That being said, kyle is not given the villain’s treatment in this movie. if you cut out all the scenes where ryan is not actively sucking adam driver’s dick and jizzing all over himself over kyle’s angsty white boy angst, the movie has virtually no real plot (”oh no we are in space with no fuel, nobody is going to do anything except get mad at each other, miscommunicate, and deliberately make all the characters of color worthless while separating Finn and Poe bc fuck the gays”). So much of the movie is spent not just establishing how kyle became kyle (which is good! backstory for villains is good!), but trying to get us to like, sympathize with him? which is the shitty part. I dont care that Luke “”””tried to kill”’’’ (he didn’t) kyle. kyle had turned to the dark side before luke’s mistake. kyle had a million and one chances to change his mind from the start of TFA to the end of TLJ, and he never did. Kyle is an evil guy. We need one of those. He’s a great evil guy bc he’s got so many shitty qualities. But ryin doesnt want us to hate kyle, even tho hes the villain. why the fuck doesnt reean want us to hate kyle? bc rayan is also a shitty little man who thinks giving ur white boy a sob story makes him a sympathetic villain and sidelining ur characters of color will help.

also again the fucking shirtless scene what the shit man that was so gross

2. Will be broken down into A, B, C, etc. bc TLJ treats its characters of color like SHIT. 

2A. Finn. Finn gets put in a coma bc why would anyone want to write anything interesting for john boyega its not like hes the MOST BEAUTIFUL MAN and the MOST TALENTED ACTOR who is being sidelined bc ryun hates black people. Yeah Finn is totally into Rey and he wants to save her and is willing to desert the rebellion for her. that happened in the first movie but why give your characters real arcs when you can recycle old ones to jerk off to kyle ron. the rose thing happens, shes like “we can disable the tracking” and like TWO SECONDS after he was dead set on desertion he’s totally down to risk his life for the rebellion at rey’s expense? that sure is a quick 180 with no real reason why and no writing to explain it! then there was the whole “separate finn and poe” thing ryain pulled for the shits and giggles.

2B. Rose. I was pretty chill with Rose, she had a dope backstory, her sister was badass, and I liked that they made that connection off the bat. I’m not mad about anything rayn did with her character but i genuinely believe thats only because i havent thought about it enough yet. give me a week and i’ll figure out how rain fucked it up. open to suggestions.

2C. Poe. Full offense but was I supposed to be mad at Poe for coming up with a plan when that bitch Holdo was like “I’m not gonna tell you my plan sit tight and be convinced we are all going to die :)” i legitimately did not understand how I was supposed to be mad at poe for doing what he thought was best for the rebellion after he asked holdo what the plan was and she was deliberately obstinate and refused to even be like “dont worry i have a plan” she was just like. so dumb. Also poe got thrown around a lot and i am A Little Suspicious of how much physical violence he experienced compared to many other characters.

2D. You guessed what was next! The slaps! Super awesome how the two men of color were slapped by white people!!!! So deep!!!!!!! For real tho uh the second time i saw this movie someone in the audience laughed when poe got slapped by space hitler hux and uh??? not funny. not funny or cute or clever to use the guy you built your entire nazi imagery on to slap the one black man on your cast. i dont care if it was supposed to make us “hate hux” or whatever more. i already hated hux reyn. you could have used that screentime in your 3 fucking hour long movie for something valuable, like giving finn a character arc, or literally anything else besides that goddamn slap. i was livid watching that.

and then with leia and poe? i get that part of the conflict was internal in the resistance and one of the major themes was how failure is the best teacher and all that but like? maybe stop physically assaulting all your characters of color? maybe uhhhh at least think about that first??

2E. like i mentioned before one of the obvious themes was how failure is the best teacher so naturally all the major characters had to fail at something, and then learn from their mistake to be better next time. with luke it was fucking up with kyle, with rey it was being naive enough to think kyle could turn, with poe it was the dreadnaught thing, finn was left out of this because raan dooesn give a shit abt finn bc hes a racist bastard, etc. but it was incredibly transparent how all of the white characters’ mistakes meant either personal losses or something small scale with one person, while the mistakes of the characters of color (poe/finn/rose) were all ones that cost the rebellion the vast majority of their forces. rey got out of her fight with kyle and snoke unscathed. luke got a lot of guilt and character development. What did finn poe and rose get? the deaths of like 99% of the resistance on their shoulders. A little too coincidental that even though rey LITERALLY GAVE HERSELF OVER TO SNOKE she was totally fine a-ok no real scars, finn and poe and rose doing their best to save the rebellion while admiral holdo refuses to tell them anything costs the resistance so fucking much. rey does the DUMBEST FUCKING THING with no real consequences and finn and poe and rose try their best and are punished severely for it.

2F. Really convenient how everything finn, poe, and rose did ended up being useless and just cost the rebellion lives, whereas at least rey’s mishap got snoke killed and taught her a lesson. reeeeaaaalllllyyyyyy convenient how finn, poe, and rose’s plan was a huge waste of time. it would have been much better for us to see an actual plot line with them that contributed to the story and their characterizations instead of “send them on a goose chase, make it pointless in the end, physically brutalize them along the way.

3. R*yl* bullSHIT: ryyn had a really fun time with a lot of very rape-y scenes in this movie. the whole force-connection thing with kyle and rey was soooooo uncalled for, it reeked of non-con fantasies, catered to the r*yl*s like nothing ever before, and was so goddamn gross. the obvious invasion of privacy and lack of consent was nasty, using it as a shitty device to make rey “come around” on kyle was NASTY and that whole thing was nasty. i know im not articulating this well but there was so much about that whole thing that bothered me. i just know reyhan was so fucking into it, inserting kyle into rey’s life, forcing her to completely drop all of her characterization in the first movie to suddenly thing kyle can be good, acting as if rey hasnt seen all the shit and known what hes done. the whole thing was gross and a really obvious example of why men shouldn’t be allowed to direct movies.

4. killing snoke was a dumbass fucking mistake. kyle is a tantrum-throwing temper-losing toddler. snoke was evil and mysterious and shit idk. we knew he was powerful as fuck, he looked like a testicle which is a great villain imo, he was the darth sidious and they killed him off while kyle is still in like. ep2!Anakin levels of angst. i get that kyle is already powerful or whatever but like. hes not cold and calculated the way snoke was. kyle is a good villain, but a weak main baddie bc hes dumb as fuck. he let the rebellion get away bc he was pissed at luke. that was dumb as fuck. kyle is ruined by his emotions, and snoke was a scarier main baddie bc he wasnt so fucking dumb lol

5. it was so fucking long. there were so many scenes that could have been cut or shortened. why did we need to see luke milking the tiddy of that weird alien cow thing. why did we need to see kyle ron shirtless. why did we need so many goddamn shots of the fucking porgs.

6. ya the porgs are cute or whatever but like. that whole “look at how sad the cute big-eyes porg is when chewie is eating his friend” thing was so dumb. i dunno why but i hated that the most. that was the worst thing the porgs did. they were cute but like chill disney u know they like ran algorithm after algorithm to make that porg the cutest it could be with science or some bullshit and like? thats dumb.

7. i get that the humor in star wars movies is shifting but i felt like there was too much of it and it was dumb. a lot of the riffs werent funny and there were too many of them for a star wars film. star wars usually doesnt take itself too seriously, but this one was a little too much for me.

8. there were too many plot twists for shock value. the story went on too long. it should have ended earlier but it didnt. i dont know why ryenn decided to have like 6 different climaxes but it was too much. should have let there be one climax buddy. thats it.

9. holdo. besides holdo being the white feminist icon why didnt she just fucking tell poe the plan. why. why was so deliberately obstinate when it was doing no good. like yeah of course poe sent out a crew to try to save the rebellion all u told him to shut up and let you handle it! obvously what she did in the end was badass or whatever but like uh hun next time dont be a piece of shit and then get mad when people react to you being a piece of shit. i would have been okay with all that happening if holdo wasnt treated like some hero who never made any mistakes. she did make a mistake, and that was refusing to tell poe what her plan was when she knew he was absolutely the type to do whatever he could to save the rebellion whether he had her permission or not. also apparently holdo is a lesbian or bi or not straight or something in like the comics or whatever and like 1. classic bury ur gays but also 2. no more word of god gay characters if a character is not gay in the movies i will not give you the gay cred for it sorry homophobes

10. i didnt buy the story w luke and kyle at lukes jedi training facility or whatever. surprisingly, i was ok with lukes story line and character development, and actually agreed with it for the most part, but i just like. i dunno i didnt feel like that was something luke would do. not because luke is infallible (even tho he is my gay dad who has never done anything wrong ever) but because the entire original trilogy is luke believing darth vader could be saved. and while im not opposed to luke changing his mind about whether or not everyone could be turned away from the dark side (luke was young and optimistic in the original trilogy, and as he grew older he would learn more about the jedi and their history like the whole speech he gave rey about how the jedi have to end bc theyre lowkey shitty). i actually kind of liked luke’s hot take on the jedi, because it was lowkey my hot take on the jedi (esp the prequels jedi who were shitty as Fuuuuuck but we are ignoring the prequels for now lbr) but also because i could believe it was a view luke would come to as he aged. but impulsively drawing his lightsaber to kill kyle before he had actually done anything bad, after suspecting that kyle had darkness in him for a while, even though he felt like he had failed? it just didnt feel like luke to me. i felt more like raeyn had chosen that particular backstory to try to make kyle a more sympathetic villain rather than give a believable and in-character back story for the characters. i understand that luke’s failure ultimately has to lead to the creation of kyle ron in this story line, but that didnt feel like the right failure to me. maybe this is just me being nitpicky but that felt off to me too and i dont know if i can quite pinpoint why.

11. rey was a dumbass fucking bitch in this movie. rey could not be a dumbass fucking bitch to survive as a scavenger who was orphaned at birth on jakku. rey would have had to be smart and not as fucking DUMB as she was in this movie. now im getting heated so i cant articulate this well but she just did so many dumb things that anybody who had to raise themselves would have never done. she would never have delivered herself over to kyle ron like what a dumb fucking idea. who wrote this goddamn movie. fuck u ryeen.

12. why did yoda come back as a force ghost. where is anakins force ghost. he would be so fucking pissed at kyle right now. he would be mad as hell. he would have ended this thing. he would have called kyle out like the shitdickbitch he is and put him in his place. i get that yoda is more like ancient and orginal star wars jedi knowledge shit or whatever and like more of an authority on the jedi but like anakin is off in like force ghost hawaii drinking force ghost martinis while his shitty fucking grandson is being a piece of shit?? nah man anakin would have shut that shit down they better bring him back for ep IX and i expect hayden christensen himself to show up to bitch at kyle about what a fucking dumbass he is.

tbh theres probably more like i know there’s a ton of little things i hated but as scathing as this review is there were things i liked. visually speaking it was a very beautiful movie when we werent getting atrocious close ups of adam drivers ugly ass face. i originally hated but have come to appreciate the darker tone, since it mirrors the mood of TESB in that the rebellion seems dead but obviously isnt bc this is star wars. i liked luke. i dunno. i had a lot of issues with the movie obviously. to be quite honest i cant actually think of anything else i liked atm which is telling.

anyway if anybody actually reads this long ass fucking post feel free to respond with what you hated abt TLJ

[inenaffable]

*hungry tummy noises*

they read it and they ask me "what the fuck is wrong with you" and i just can cry and laugh a little bit cause its funny, you know? its funny when no one else exists besides you and you still cant do anything. youre so stupid, you know that, you know that? you cant do anything because youre caged inside yourself so you create fantasies to pretend your life is interesting and youre not a hollow of a person, a carbon copy of whoever is the closest, unable to survive without a partner, a disgusting parasyte. god, youre not even good enough to ruin people, to mark them in any way possible. you just bore them, then your thrashed to the side. its not even dramatic enough to be written about, its just logical. youre so bad at being anything, its pathetic. you cant be good, great, you cant be filthy, despairful, youre nothing, notghin nothign nothing notghin nogthing nothing nothgin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! no one can hate you if no one gives a fuck about you and you know that you know that the only one who hates yourself is you and you are the only fucking reason to all your problems because theyre all in your head and theyre fake, fucking fake, fake fake fake fake fake because you cant entertain yourself on your fucking life because everyone leaves you when they realize you are just a shell a copy a parasyte that sucks and sucks and sucks and doesnt give a fuck and is locked inside their own head and blames people for the crazy things your dumb fucking brain created fuck fuck fuck fuck

no one asks you what the fuck is wrong with you because no one cares, and everyone knows those things are only in your head, because you tell them, and you know, you fucking know, and thats the worst part of it

i dont know how to be a human being , even when imbeing the most disgusting one that exists - but im not, because its all in your head and youve never done anything

im perfect, its incredible, its amazing, really, you should look at me,look at me

i do bad things and dont feel guilty for them, i guilty myself  for things that arent bad, and then i blame people for my own judgement, but i dontknow how to live outside of this

its scary, scary, scary, scary, scary, scary,scary,scary so so scary outside of here, dont let me go, dont let me go, youre gona go back all over again

except you cant go back to something that never even existed

what am i going to tell my therapist tomorrow? lies, lies, unconscious lies that im very aware of, all over again, excuses after excuses

why dont you just fuck me, tell me, why? i dont have to think, i dont want to think,  im spending so much time alone and yet im doing absolutely nothign, im disgusting

but im perfect, so perfect, how can anyone ever hate me? everyone loves me, right? you love me, right? hey, are you reading this? hey, hey, wont you just fuck me? wont you make me forget i have a mind of my own? 

im so disgusting, how can you love me? you like it, dont you? how im so very fake, how i cant take no’s, how im just barely nothing but annoyment when striped down. what, what? you want to see me strip? silly, silly, if i do that, then youd want to go away. its just too bad i cant control myself, right? i just want to be seen oh so badly. 

theres no liquor in this house and i hate it, i hate it how i could just ask for it, but i wont, and ill still hate that theres none. thats me, thats me for you. dont you like it, love it? dont you just want to fuck me now?

i dont need to pretend in front of you, if you dont like it, just leave, im tired of you. i can say fuck and i can act like everything i do is coated with so much honey  its nauseating, annoying, because thats who i am. lousy, annoying, nasty, spoiled, a horrible liar and so much more. but im nothing you guys like, im nothing i like, so ill wear baggy clothing even though i want to show my tits to everyone. my room is just too hot. i must not forget, nobody cares about me, nobody remembers me, no one will come back for me, so i can tear it up. i can say fuck and i can lick every single inch of my mirror and i can be whatever i want to be, because, because-

she said i love myself, i said i loved myself, and thats why. but maybe that was a lie. see, how havent you seen through that? i actually hate myself. oh, i do, so very much. its funny. dont you find it funny? tell me, tell me you laughed, tell me you could tell from the start, and that its okay, that ill learn to love myself at somepoint. i want to have sex with so many people because i hate myself and i dont want to think

hey, look at me, arent i ugly? arent i destroying myself? say, dont you think no one will never apreciate me again?

i dont know if what im preteding is to believe or to doubt. do i love it, do i hate it? its so tangled, its funny. i cant remember what came first. does it really even matters?

im so very hungry. i want to drink and let people touch me and touch them back, i want to feel whole. dont you just want to fuck me? im perfect, see? i promise, i promise, you wont regret it! come, come, just fuck me already.

imagine it,, imagine me, miserably sitting down in my bed, sweating, hungry, and writing all this jumbled mess on my dumb little notebook, typing on this double keyboard, listening to dumb little rain sounds on my dumb little one-sided earphone cause im too scared of the silence but cant listen to music cause my brain is just dumb dumb dumb and cant concentrate on more than one dumb little thing at a time

im so hungry, and its not even a metaphor anymore

im not doing it on purpose, i promise, i could eat so so much but theres just nothing  to eat and most of the things are just icky

i could eat a whole hamburger if i could go out

dad, please, buy me a hamburger, please, please, im so hungry, wont you just buy me one

hey, dont you want to buy me things too? that would be nice, so very nice of you. say, give me your money, wont you? i could buy so much with it! i need it, i need you

fuck, fuck, tell me, how am i supposed to sleep now?

i sometimes wonder if i should take pills for it, but that would probably be a bad idea

i dont need any of it, and starting it would probably get me into something worse

think, wouldnt it be cool if i could stay up till 4am?

but i cant, and i need to sleep

wont you kiss me goodnight?

pretty, pretty please?

ah! thank you! thank you so much! i love you, i love you, i love you!

[swampgallows]

really feel like im gonna struggle to ever integrate into society. i struggle to chill w people my own age because a lot of them have careers n shit (i think... i guess? i dont really know actually lmao cause i dont talk to em) or theyre dating people and i cant really tell people what im up to because theyre condescending about it. “oh youre still into the rave thing huh?” yeah i’m “still into” it, sorry. you got two kids and a husband and youre living w your parents still too, that’s not a life i envy. id rather keep my ‘childish’ interests, thanks.

and i dont drink or do drugs so a lot of Adult Outings make me uncomfortable or are not right for me. and any time i want to find sober anything it becomes religious or recovery related, or it is considered exclusively for children. i have no problem being in the vicinity of alcohol but i dont want to hang w people while they’re using controlling substances because it sucks for everybody involved: they cant enjoy themselves because they feel self-conscious around me being the sober one, and then i feel bad for making them self-conscious but am also uncomfortable with them using substances around me. and of course i mean substances for the purpose of getting fucked up, not as medication. except in the case of weed which is a huge monumentally major trigger for me (whether i mentally prepare myself to be around it or not).

raves are the perfect blend for me. people who wanna get fucked up can, people who dont want to dont have to, and everybody is there to have a good time in their own way. they wear what they want, they dance how they want, and they generally dont infringe on anybody else’s good time with weird stuff like sexual advances or whatever. and if something like that is going down (like when RTC strips down and starts fucking on stage basically) you can always go somewhere else without having to sacrifice listening to the music or enjoying yourself otherwise. there’s generally outdoor areas (or people will let you in/out if it’s not the shadiest) to chill or if you need a breather, people are willing to help you, etc. i dunno raves compared to clubs or bars are vastly VASTLY superior. youd think id be able to stand the latter two since i rave all the time but i just cant (also because there is never any good music at clubs).

plus im not dating anybody and being ace is a shit and a half in terms of All of That, it’s another fuckin hang up on my perceived adulthood that im unpalatable or a freak or something is wrong w me if i’ve “gone this long” being single. sorry all the dudes who have been into me have been petulant children or massive abusive jerks and im not open enough about my bi-ness to be visible to women i dont think. either way im entirely de-sexed and this is the age where people are definitely fuckin, and fuckin with a PURPOSE. theyve all had like ten years of practice by this point (whether actually having sex or not, theyre just programmed to understand it) and so most people dont have time for a stiff like me who really doesnt give a shit about sex or ranges to even actively fucking hating it. i also havent developed feelings for anybody in a long time unless you count my tumblr crush (who im pretty sure has a partner anyway lmao and they seem pretty sexual actually so i dont think theyd, among many other reasons, give a shit about my dumb ass) and that can be really alienating too. 

my high school best friend got married yet to me i feel like the only development i’ve had since high school is Trauma and mental illness. like i developed dissociative episodes in the last few years whereas in high school i basically only had the chronic insomnia and hypnagogic hallucinations. i mean i certainly think i’ve developed AS A PERSON in HUMONGOUS strides since high school but i know people i knew then will just be like “oh you still do ‘the rave thing’ and play WoW, huh?”

like yeah, i dunno, FUCK ME for enjoying my interests. i quit wow when i needed to and im glad i did but it’s not WoW’s fault i entered a morass of suicidal depression in the years i wasnt playing. WoW had run its course at that time in my life. and at the latter end of that i was going to raves regularly, making the BEST lifelong friends i have ever had, and generally being part of something greater, part of a community that genuinely cared about me. i was working out further kinks with my ability to socialize and love and be open to people (as i will continue to do until i die) but i feel there is arguably a much larger capacity to love in me than before. so i still wear kandi, so i still wear black clothing, so i still prattle on about orcs and trolls. fuck off. at least now i dont hate myself and let myself get raped every day, at least now im not mindlessly swallowing and regurgitating actively racist rhetoric out of fear of confronting my parents’ hatred or by surrounding myself with the dregs of society, at least now i dont want to “sew up my vagina” because i detest my womanhood and the men who covet(ed) it

currently i play wow honestly like maybe twice a week. i went on a bender with diego my REAL LIFE FRIEND LMFAO (like what, stop enjoying time w your friends, it isnt grown up!) a few days ago and we played for like 6 straight hours which was pretty fuckin wild. i think about wow a LOT like TOO mcuh and all of my art recently has been wow-related but holy shit i am drawing at least 

since playing wow again (almost concurrent with when i had started my job) i did more drawing than i did in probably all 4.5 years of college, assignments or otherwise. i was drawing EVERY DAY, legitimately, even if they were just quick scribbles. and when i wasnt i was writing every single fucking day. and when i wasnt, i was READING. like FUCK me for having warcraft as a motivation to do fucking anything in my goddamn life. youre right, abandoning my interests and adopting ones i hate for the sake of appearing more adult is totally worth the mind-numbing soul-eating depression i crumble into without these silly safety nets.

like that’s all it is. it’s silly. raves are silly. video games are silly. “good luck getting laid” thanks i dont need it. “good luck finding someone who loves you” fuck you i have plenty of people who love me BECAUSE of the things i love, not “in spite” of them, not in some tongue-in-cheek “That’s our Swamp!” fashion. they say, “THIS IS GREAT. PLEASE MAKE MORE.” they say, “THIS IS GREAT. PLEASE TELL ME MORE.” they say, “THIS IS GREAT. PLEASE PLAY MORE.” (that last one is about music, not warcraft lol).

but i mean i do worry about it, worry about being “too insular” as some critical piece of shit idiot put it to the point of being unrelatable. I dont want to alienate myself from people of course, nor do i want to get so wrapped up in fantasy that i lose myself. and that’s something i was tearing myself apart about during my episode earlier, just that “I have to get off the internet” because while i think and do all of this stuff, “Me” is just sitting in my bed rotting. Even when im drawing or up at my tables mixing i know it’s still just me, in my house, sealed off from the world, and i started having panic because i was telling myself “i want to go home” over and over but i am at home, i’m in my bed, but i realized of course that home is not in this house. home is many places for me, but it’s also why im SO enthusiastic about wow again: it is home. and believe me im getting wary of just how fucking much i am eating breathing sleeping dreaming (literally dreaming) warcraft because while i dont know if i was ever “addicted” i, again, dont want to be so swept up that i forget im a person (and with dpdr that shit is way potent). that and uhh i got shit to do, but mostly... it’s not real. and i know im setting myself up for failure and heartbreak again by yearning for something that cannot exist no matter how much i set my mind and hands to create it.

i feel hurt physically by the fact that there are “only humans”. i mean there are infinite different kinds of humans, but it’s more of an existential quandary than a yearning for an orc boyfriend or something. it’s why we dream up fantastic creatures and aliens in the first place: we’re not alone in the universe, are we? are humans really the only sentient beings out there? we can’t be. we can’t be. “they” say either option—that we are, or are not alone—is equally terrifying but i dont think so. sure we might fear violence or eradication from not being alone, but to know that we are? out of everything we’ve charted and studied, that we’re it? that’s... that’s death. and of course there’s going to be heat death or whatever they say in 6 billion whatever i dont know, so whether we’re alone or not is irrelevant because it will destroy our universe and what happens when there is no universe? and so of course all of this was compounding into panic, of course, of course, jumping from a dumbass thought like “i guess im not as into overwatch because it’s sci-fi but also theyre all humans” straight into “INEVITABLE HEAT DEATH”. so like, really, does it matter that i care about wow lore more than i care about marriage?

i mean, i guess i should have a career, but i dont really know what i could be capable of doing. i dont know if it’s mental illness or discipline or what but even if like metzen himself was like “come work at blizzard!” i would still probably just collapse into a heap of worthlessness and fear. 

i dont know what i fear. i guess i fear that im wasting my time, and by spending my time in another world i dont have to worry about how im spending time in this one. and that’s really, really bad. i dont like that.

i have to make this world worth living in. i have been trying. but i havent gotten very far. in fact, i took some steps backward.

from the edge of the cliff, so... i guess that’s forward in some ways.

[tumblunni]

aaaa im getting stupidly inspired to work again on my old Dating Sim Ghost Tragedy Game since I had that dumb idea today about a new Dating Sim Ghost Tragedy Game I’ve had like five separate ideas for different tragic undead datey games :P Lets talk about this particular one!! I’m pretty tired so I cant really write it a big post like i did with today’s new idea, but I’ll try my best ^_^

The idea is that it’d be sort of a traditional medieval fantasy setting but its more like a slice of life tale of the regular citizens in these sorts of worlds, rather than a big destined hero thing. Sorta like the appeal of the Atelier series? I’m thinking the protagonist could maybe be a blacksmith or a gardener or some other down-to-earth job? I just feel like he’s a hardworking chill sort of dude, sometimes kinda comes off as emotionless to others, kinda depressed but devoting himself to his work helps him smile again. He’s really passionate about whatever he does! And i think deciding his job would be a big step towards developing this idea, because having it as a minigame would help add structure to the plot and some relief from the sadness. I dont wanna make it too similar to Atelier though... So yeah, the protagonist is this cute mid-twenties relateable fella who’s just trying to do his job. I think I wanna give his outfit dungarees or something? I feel like he’d always look a bit work-uniform-style even when he’s off duty, he’s kinda too lazy to change clothes. A perpetually bored and disinterested guy. Or, at least that’s the impression he gives off to people who don’t know him, he only brightens up around the few friends he has. AND HE PUTS 100% INTO THAT SMILE, GODDAMMIT

And then his childhood friend is someone who actually was sort of a ‘standard rpg hero’, but a really sad subversion of it. At the moment he’s currently the main love interest, and he’s still sorta the catalyst for the plot and the mysteries and all, even if you don’t pick him. or I dunno, maybe I’ll just make it only one love interest but many multiple endings, but I think this character would be happy if his love interest was happy with somebody else in the endings where they dont get together. He’d be crying but happy. Anyway, my mental image for him now is this really weary chronically shy cinnamon roll who’s like a big ol tall beanpole knight with long rapunzel hair that he hides behind. Maybe white hair cos that’d fit thematically with his plot, but is that too sephirothy? When they were children, knight-guy used to be this bright and uplifting figure who always protected protagonist and had such great dreams of being a hero who could save everyone! And he went off to join the army at a young age, and then he just... shattered. He came back disgraced as a deserter, the decade of loyal service ignored by all his former neighbours just because he’d quit in the end. He had a complete breakdown and just couldnt take the violence anymore, now he’s barely 23 years old and already retired. And completely alone. No family, just trying in vain to take care of his fragile self as he locks himself away in his house and everybody gossips about him. And the thematic thing is that his biggest fear is spiders. The moment he snapped was when he was left injured on the battlefield unable to move for hours, trapped under a pile of bodies of his fellow soldiers, trying to play dead to survive. He just remembers seeing a spider crawling across the face of the man next to him, the man in pieces... So everyone horrid in the village likes to mock him by scaring him with spiders, and I havent decided on his name yet but he probably has a spider-based nickname. He’s unlucky enough to even look spidery :P

Ooooooohhhhhh and for extra irony, the village is next to a magic forest populated by demon spiders. WHOOPS, FATE HATES YOU! They’re kinda like both the gods and demons of this village, they’re seen as morally bankrupt dangerous trickster spirits that’ll do whatever they want regardless of good and evil. Everybody talks about how horrible they are and warns that anyone who does [insert sin according to our religion] will be cursed by them, but they also make offerings to them and consider them entirely responsible for the success of the harvest, etc. Its like if you knew your gods were unpredictable dicks but you still tried to placate them with gifts! (like most old european pantheons I guess) And even though this setting is indeed a magical one, the existance of the spider spirits is kind of an unknown mystery similar to real life gods. People very rarely see them in times of need, and nobody can ever prove it really happened. The forest is indeed the ‘forest of spiders’ but the only proven fact is that it has a lot of (as far as we know) completely ordinary spiders in it. Nobody knows why so many spiders cluster in this one area, so making up a legend about gods seems like a possible thing that could happen. or maybe this one area really is the centre of the world where the One True Spiders weave the webs that tell the future, and these are their mortal followers praying in worship much like the humans do... Anyway, its just a cool aesthetic thing of a cobweb-encrusted forest where entire trees get coccooned annually as the seasons come and go~ And a cool civilization that has a lot of trade in silk and weaving! Kinda based on the old ps1 game Jade Cocoon, though that revolved around magical spirit silkworms instead.

At the time the story starts, best friend knight guy has been back home for a fair few years now. Him and protagonist met again, and protagonist is goddamn determined to take care of his ill friend and somehow manage to convince the town to take him back! Its basically two depressed people holding on to each other as their lifeline, and helping each other compensate for the things they’ve each been robbed of. Protagonist struggles with expressing emotion and being a complete pushover who can never tell anyone what he really wants, so its helping him a lot that for once he’s determined and won’t just mindlessly obey his parents. You cant tell me to cast aside my best friend! Plus best friend just generally thinks the goddamn world of him and helps him be happy! And best friend suffers from seeing himself as worthless and being anxious about disaster at every turn, feeling that nobody loves him and nobody SHOULD love him. And not being capable of taking care of his more mundane day-to-day needs because he doesnt believe he deserves to like.. eat, sleep, leave the house, etc. Poor guy... I’m so glad I invented a protagonist character that can be there for him! And seriously they both just renew each other’s self worth and I’m getting so emotional about this pairing before I’ve even developed it... GAHHHH

SO YEAH LETS GET DOWN TO THE ACTUAL PLOT It was kinda necessary to establish the history leading up to it, because that’s why it’s so tragic :(

Last year, the protagonist’s best friend vanished overnight and never came back. Everyone says he just ran away again like a coward, nobody even looked for him except you. They say he was last seen walking into the forest, and nobody will listen when you say that’s IMPOSSIBLE! His biggest fear was the spiders! The protagonist frantically tried to find him.. tried to find his body... tried to at least investigate this murder mystery and find some closure... tried to at least convince people that it WAS a murder mystery.... With the loss of the person he cared about most, the protagonist has slunk back into his own shell again, and starts to give up hope on life. Facing the same pariah treatment they gave his spider-fearing friend, he eventually learns to stop asking questions, to stop searching, to just do whatever his parents said. And his parents said he has to have an arranged marriage, to restore their reputation, after his STUPID STUNT of causing so much FUSS over the death of some stupid deserter... Each day blends into the next, as life becomes once again just going through the motions of being a ‘proper man’. Then... One day... He comes back. The spider-haired best friend comes walking though your door like nothing had happened! But.. he isn’t quite right. Your joy starts fading to a growing dread. He doesn’t remember what happened? He walks straight past the people heckling him? He seems more peaceful than he’s ever been, he’s fearless again and he keeps answering your questions with exactly what you’re desperate to hear. Sometimes you swear you see him talking to spiders whenever you turn your back... So you have to adjust to having him back, and try and figure out the mystery of his dissappearance while worrying whether you can trust him or not. You even entertain irrational thoughts that the legends are true, and maybe you’ve invited a forest spirit into your home because it mimicked the voice of the man you loved. And... what will you do about that love? For the first time ever he’s recipricating your feelings, he knows all those words that went unspoken, as if he could hear you every night as you wished you’d confessed while you had the chance. Is this really him holding you close, or is it a cruel trick to offer you everything you wanted, so the forest can claim you just like it claimed him?

So yeah, gameplay would be like exploring around each day searching for clues, doing a certain job-based minigame, and having chances to either go down the dating sim path or mistrust this man that may or may not be the one you knew. Even options perhaps to develop a romance with other characters instead? But will there be consequences for instilling jealousy in something otherworldly...? I think maybe if you just jump right into romancing possibly-friend-possibly-doppelganger, then you get a bit of a bad ending. Agreeing with him 100% and never solving the mystery is bad, regardless of whether he’s actually trustworthy or not. Either way it ends tragically, but there might be possibly a way to get a true romance ending with him if you actually do keep on top of resolving the main plot as well as just smooching. I... won’t say whether his romance is good or bad though :P And there’d be one not-romance route, where its kinda like you have to work hard to avoid romance! The protagonist’s arranged marriage is a big problem, he’d resigned himself to that fate but now he’s starting to hope he can confess to the one he really loves instead. But he’s gotta go against the whole damn world trying to force him into this ‘destiny’... Oh and I wanna make the most of the spider aesthetic! I was thinking that ‘fate threads’ could be a big gameplay element, with the possibility of getting these out-of-context flashforwards and clues that can help you avoid a bad ending. (Like in Until Dawn!) And romance meters would be a silk thread connecting the two of you, because pretty interface elements are awesome :)

POINTLESS RANDOM DEVELOPMENT TRIVIA This is actually a super old idea that’s remained undeveloped for many years! Back when i was a lil teen I originally imagined sort of a similar thing but with mermaids/water spirits instead of spider ones. And a lake instead of a forest, naturally. Also it kept flip-flopping on the genders of the characters. Ultimately i decided delicate spider aesthetic would fit better with a m/m couple and terrifying swamp creatures of fierceness would be better as sapphic. And the het idea died quickly cos it was based on dumb gender roles that the shy one has to be the girl, blablabla :P Oh and for some reason the whole spider idea came from reading one particular case in the manga adaptation of Ace Attourney. Weird, huh?

[writingguide003-blog]

Forget Dystopias, These Sci-Fi Writers Opt For Optimism Instead

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/forget-dystopias-these-sci-fi-writers-opt-for-optimism-instead/

Forget Dystopias, These Sci-Fi Writers Opt For Optimism Instead

Its hot, and youre walking. Shuffling, actually. Youve spanned a seemingly endless chalk-dry plane, and youre thirsty, run-down, exhausted. You think about your flaking, parched lips and aching muscles, and about how your arduous journey will be worth it if you ever reach your destination. An immigrant, youre searching for a new place to live, because the place you call home has become barely livable. Youre thinking about the hot dirt sweat-caked on your skin when youre interrupted by an even greater pain — your tooth, recently implanted with a geo-location chip, is practically vibrating. This means youre close.

So begins Madeleine Ashbys short story, By the Time We Get to Arizona, published last year in Hieroglyph, a collection of science-fiction stories meant to inspire readers about the possibilities the future holds, rather than invoke fear about impending societal doom. Solutions to climate change catastrophes abound in the series; so do suggestions for jumping forward in our approach to space exploration technologies. Ashbys story — a spinoff of her Masters thesis on making border security more humane — explores a world where guns and guards are replaced by sensors and facial recognition technology.

Conceived of by Neal Stephenson — a celebrated writer whose most recent novel ventures a guess at what post-Earth diplomacy might look like — Hieroglyph showcases a growing crew of writers who, by commission or by choice, present sunnier alternatives to the now-prevalent, Hunger Games-fueled dystopia trend. These arent the stifling factions of Divergent or the heart-pounding twists and turns of The Maze Runner; they arent the bleak worlds crafted by Margaret Atwood or even the fable-like, anti-technology morals embedded in movies like Wall-E. Although many of the stories in Hieroglyph highlight societal problems, they have technological solutions to those problems embedded within them.

The anthology, along with the few others like it, was divisive in the science-fiction community. One camp, headed up by Stephenson, holds the belief that scientists and engineers could use a positive push from the writers whose job it is to imagine what the future will look like. Writers, Stephenson asserts, have a responsibility not only to confront social problems, but to provide potential solutions, too. So, a socially disheveled community like The Hunger Games Panem might feature a technology that allows citizens to communicate with each other, and fight back. Because these writers are using their fiction to provide solutions to contemporary problems, many necessarily couch their stories in grim scenarios the characters must escape from. Sexism, racism and classism are addressed, if subtly.

This doesnt sit well with the other school of readers and writers, who lament the days when an interstellar story was a joyride, whizzing quickly past social justice issues towards thrilling plot twists. One particularly rabid breed of decriers are the writers who make up a group called the Sad Puppies, who banded together during The Hugo Awards to stack the vote against minority and women writers. The problem, they claim, is that the science-fiction community has prioritized social justice and diversity, ignoring superior prose and more inventive stories as a result. Science-fiction, they say, is about fun. Its about escaping the problems of the real world through otherworldly scenarios — including dystopias — in which a central hero implausibly conquers evil alone, rather than with the aid of collective thinking and the useful technologies that arise from it.

The future of science-fiction — which, if George Orwells Nineteen Eighty-Four or Aldous Huxleys Brave New World are indicators, runs parallel with the future of science and technology on our own planet — probably lies somewhere on the vast, auroral spectrum between these two approaches. So, its worth examining both, and the groups of writers propelling them.

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Now is not a time for realism, Margaret Atwood said in a recent interview with NPR, succinctly summarizing why so many literary writers flock to fantasy, to dystopia, to amplifying the threat of impending problems — environmental and political — that arent yet a reality.

Though the genre has seen a spike in popularity within teen-centric reading communities, its seeped into the realm of grown-up storytelling more than ever. Which isnt to say its unfamiliar territory for writers of adult literary fiction. In fact, dystopian stories began, arguably, with a weird, little book written by Mary Shelley in 1826 thats since become a beloved classic: The Last Man. The story centers on a plague-addled Europe, where a man named Lionel struggles to survive alongside various extant communities. Theres a false messiah, political turmoil, and all the other makings of a present-day dystopia. Though Shelleys book wasnt recognized until the 1960s, others like it by Jules Verne and H.G. Wells surfaced shortly thereafter, spawning a sub-genre of writing that asks timeless questions about human nature, and how it responds to dire, life-threatening scenarios.

But today, with a few notable exceptions (Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, Gold Fame Citrus by Claire Vaye Watkins), popular dystopian stories have lost a bit of their original complexity. They tend to be thinly cloistered morality lessons, better suited for young readers. Rather than highlighting the nuances of human interactions, they tend to generalize, and draw hard lines between good and evil.

Why are more and more adult literary writers, and adult literary fiction readers, opting into the rather nihilistic and juvenile genre? Its a quandary posed again and again by columnists, providing more questions than answers — perhaps because the answer is hazy. It could be that the genre distracts readers from present realities, or provides a puzzle-like, limited scenario for a protagonist to work through, so different from the more fractured plot of real life. Or, it could be that our present realities seem increasingly fantastical, due to the quick proliferation of disastrous events filling our Twitter feeds alongside our friends quotidian musings.

Madeline Ashby believes its the latter.

There are elements of dystopia in everybodys lives, she said in an interview with The Huffington Post. Remember the Christmas protests in Ferguson? Theres this image of riot police under this big electrified, Seasons Greetings banner. If you search for Ferguson plus Seasons plus Greetings, youll find the picture. I found it, and I tweeted in all caps, WHY DO SO MANY KIDS LOVE DYSTOPIA? HM, I WONDER.

Ashby cites her own dystopia-like governmental interactions as inspiration for many of her sci-fi stories, including By the Time We Got to Arizona. In 2006, she immigrated to Canada, and says the process, for her, was dehumanizing.

My immigration took over a year, she said, adding that she feels fortunate — for other people immigrating to Canada, two years is the average wait-time.

During that process youre essentially a number and a sheet of paper. You feel it every time they ask you progressively more invasive questions, Ashby added, sharing an anecdote about how immigration questions reduce complex romantic relationships to statistics-based judgement calls. [Theyd ask] things like, Can you describe to us the number and monetary value of gifts exchanged between the two of you. And then you start to think, oh, OK, the quality of my relationship is already interpreted through capital. I have a monetary value.

In her short story, Ashby acknowledges these issues, but also offers solutions to the problem. She notes that by working change-inspiring technologies into her plots, she’s at the very least offering readers a sense of hope. 

Dystopia is very useful in grappling with the world as it exists, Ashby said. Its a really stylized, formalized way of talking about things that are already happening in practice. But utopia, or more optimistic stories, can also be useful, because you can imagine a future that you actually want.

Ashbys fiction is informed by her other, more technical approach to writing. After studying Strategic Foresight and Innovation at the Ontario College of Art and Design, she started getting gigs drafting potential future scenarios for organizations such as Intel Labs and Nesta. Envisioning the future on behalf of corporations and research labs isnt exactly an established career path — actually, it sounds a little like something out of a sci-fi novel. But Ashby isnt the only writer who moonlights as a narrative scenario practitioner. Theres a host of organizations dedicated to allowing sci-fi writers to draft potential outcomes for specific companies or entire industries. Sci Futures, a sort of think tank dedicated to providing these services to clients such as Crayola, Ford, and Lowes, has a pithy tagline encapsulating their mission: “Where sci-fi gets real. A comparable organization, 2020 Media Futures, describes its mission as, an ambitious, multi-industry strategic foresight project designed to understand and envision what media may look like in the year 2020.

So, the research interests are vast. Of her work with Intel Labs and beyond, Ashby said, They often tell me, we want the future of intelligent systems, or the future of warfare in smart cities, the future of a world without antibiotics, the future of programmable matter, or the Internet of things.

Because Ashby spends considerable time dreaming up innovative solutions to social problems, she cant help but imbue her stories with similar gizmos and features. Her stories dont always involve positive situations for her characters, but they do often incorporate technologies that could solve said characters problems.

This is the central tenet of techno-optimism, the breed of science-fiction writing thats working to counter the rough terrain of dystopia, barren and desolate as it is; thirsty, it sometimes seems, for a solution thats bigger than a big-hearted narrator.

Writer and anthology editor Kathryn Cramer was a reluctant adopter of the genre. When aforementioned writer Stephenson, author of Seveneves, approached her to edit a collection of stories united under the banner of positive change, she worried the stories themselves would suffer from lack of plot, and lack of diversity. But, as she commissioned works of techno-optimism, she realized the genre promotes diverse voices rather than suppressing them. Her fears were quelled.

When we contemplate dark scenarios or disasters for the future, it is perhaps an ethically and morally good thing to do to figure out what the solutions might be, especially technological solutions, Cramer said in an interview with HuffPost. If we look at the 20th century, there are a whole lot of things that changed our lives in good ways, and solved a lot of problems, ranging from vaccines and refrigerated food transportation to frozen food. Some of them are sexy, like space travel, but a lot of them are things that improved everybodys lives in ways we might notve expected. Preservatives, things like that.

Cramers altruistic outlook hints at her thoughts on what a book can, and should, accomplish. While she believes writers have a responsibility to push innovation in a positive direction, some readers and writers think that mindset interferes with the quality of a story. So addressing societal problems, be it via extended, post-apocalyptic metaphors, or via similarly bleak settings peppered with hope, doesnt sit well with all sci-fi readers. Most notably, there are those — cue the Sad Puppies — who are nostalgic for the days of so-called Golden Age sci-fi: Star Trek-like space-travel adventures that offer a means of briefly escaping the restrictions of the real world. Nimble writing and world-building is supposedly the aim for such stories; political opinions, solutions-oriented and otherwise, are actively eschewed.

But the Puppies agenda — which resulted in No Award being given at the Hugo Awards this year in categories for which only white men were nominated — extends beyond particular tastes in writing styles. Claiming science-fiction has opted for affirmative action-guided decisions rather than supporting story-centric writing, they lobbied to place white, male writers — including themselves — on the award ballots.

Ashby spoke passionately against the Puppies movement: Thats part of their battle cry: Why do we have to think about social issues in our science fiction? Why do we have to think about other genders, or sexualities, or economic circumstances? Why cant it just be fun like it used to be? Well, yeah, Im sure it was really fun when you werent thinking about it. Everythings a lot more fun when youre not thinking about it.

Thinking about it, according to Ashby, involves confronting the dire state of life for some social groups. It involves constructing a narrative that encourages the reader to consider the lives of others, rather than just getting lost in his own fantasy world, in which he alone is the hero and the solution. It involves hope not in the form of a triumphant narrator, but in the technologies we can create when we do something really miraculous: work together.

Read more: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/