#the one neg of not having someone to flesh out these ideas is now im baring my stupidity to the world

[snazum]

okay I need to put these ideas somewhere.

Different Gordon Backstories:

• HLVRAI Gordon: This one i’ve given a lot of thought. Thinking about it he sort of comes off as still a grad student, like he didn’t know what a res cas was, he started working there a couple weeks ago. Like, to me at least, this reads as either “entry level” science job for Black Mesa, or a student internship that you get connected through the school and it counts towards credits in your final year.

• OG Half Life: The og backstory, no tweaks (i also don’t know a lot about the half life lore even though I keep binging video essays late night)

• Freemind: I think basically the same as the og lore, maybe a little more unhinged, haven’t given much thought about it

I basically just wrote this so I could write bout feetman lol, I’ll move his to the top

[crystallizsch]

hi ian i come bearing angst fuel for the yuusha as twsted elsa (maybe an idea for her possible overblot idk she kinda reads to me as someone whod preemptively isolate in the case she feels...blotty)

(also seeing that art of her playing violin totally didnt fuck me up im still nursing my bruised heart 🥴🥴💕💕)

https://youtu.be/NDldNaEZTt8?si=Wm71pgTltuJLjFvk

^^this is from the frozen musical where they gave a song to elsa to explore her emotional turmoil and it just fleshed out her character so much more than the orig movie (ok i havent seen frozen 2 oops) but just this section here:

Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive?

Was I a monster from the start?

How did I end up with this frozen heart?

Bringing destruction to the stage

Caught in a war that I was never meant to wage

anyways lmao i jus think the song is neat i think yuushas neat (i wanna see more of her ahehehe i love seeing infodumps abt ur yuus)

-diodellet

(throwback to this “what if yuu had magic” ask where i had a ✨realization✨ and this more recent yuusha lore drop that i gave zero elaboration on 🙃)

very rough ob yuu design??? idk i came up with it on the spot ;;; and it’s kinda based on disney’s concept art of elsa when she was supposed to be the villain.

evil ice queen vibes :3

also i know the ob monster is supposed to be based on the villain— which is elsa in this case— but lowkey. an ice monster is way cooler.

also also i just realized after i drew this i couldve done a grim/yuu tandem overblot ough 🤧🤧 (next time I'll do that instead if i ever go back to this concept)

(read more below because it got SO long)

AAH anyways hi hi dio!!! when i saw your ask i went —

— with this entire post

AAGH HOW MANY MORE UNINTENTIONAL CONNECTIONS ARE GOING TO BE BETWEEN FROZEN AND YUUSHA

i guess watching the movie everyday when it came out when you’re like 9 does something to your brain chemistry (and still haunts you at least a decade later) 💀

but anyways the angst ;;; overblot yuu ;;;;; my brain is rotting and the worms have taken over

also i didn’t even know that there was a frozen broadway musical so im gonna have to check it out later 🏃💨💨💨

(also dont worry frozen 2 is a nice watch for the most part but the way they concluded the characters did not feel 100% satisfying to me 😭 BUT i love some of the songs tho ;;; kristoff’s goofy 80s ballad song is one of them specifically, i need everyone to listen to it)

hfgnnfhfgv anyways thank you so much i’m chugging that angst fuel as i expand more on a possible ob yuusha with another infodump 💪💪💪

⚠️⚠️⚠️ ALSO IM SORRY BUT mentions of taking one’s own life so please proceed with caution ⚠️⚠️⚠️

i had to reread what my initial thoughts about it bc it was months ago??? and after rereading im just like, huh what was i on— (just that feeling when you just cringe at your old posts ;; but idk i think the insanity/cringe sometimes can loop back into being a genius and the cycle just continues)

anyways i’ve been on and off writing yuusha’s bio and overblot yuu was just at the back of my mind chilling but i didn’t really do anything with it.

but now that i have the opportunity,,,, im gonna go on the magicless route this time bc i feel like I've said all what i thought if it was an overblot due to her own magic.

so uh from what i gather overblots are a mix of overuse of magic + intense negative emotion.

since it’s magicless yuu, i guess the one of the general headcanons around the fandom is that they’ve been too exposed to overblots and then intense negative emotions suddenly just triggered their overblot.

uh anyways onto the elsa parts

Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive? Was I a monster from the start? How did I end up with this frozen heart? Bringing destruction to the stage Caught in a war that I was never meant to wage

THE LYRICS ARE SO GOOD ;;; i really love how some broadway interpretations expand on the source material

and yeah you're right 🤧🤧🤧— yuusha would try to hide and escape, especially as she overblots bc she would try to avoid hurting people (and like elsa, it'd only hurt others more trying to escape bc of probably how she leaves destruction in her wake trying to make others stay away from her 😔)

(this is a small tangent but i remember thinking about an overblot kalim and i imagine him to be similar, like he would not hurt anyone intentionally in his overblot.)

anyways so the way it would go is that i imagine her friends got fatally injured either because a) she feels that she’s too “useless” without magic to help and wasn’t able to do anything OR b) her attempts at helping to try and prove that she can help without magic made everything worse.

and then she just goes into a guilty spiral then boom — overblot.

ALSO in the song, the way elsa briefly contemplated taking her own life but then realizing there’s no guarantee that would solve anything hnghgh (<- another unintentional parallel to my yuusha lore because that’s actually how she ended up in twst except she did NOT have the latter realization)

there’s this “yuu is dead” theory i’m just using and that the black carriage actually just caught yuusha’s soul after she took her own life from all the burden.

also some bonus angst context for that violin post :3

yuusha back in her homeworld is raised and known to be a gifted musician. people can feel the life and soul in her music but when people interact with her, they are usually met with an ice-cold (heh) personality.

the dead family member was the one who taught her music and the only one who was kind to her.

there’s always an expectation from her family to perform well and to keep up appearances as to not be a humiliation since anything she does can reflect on her entire family. (also hi, slight yuusha/jamil parallels maybe???)

the way she presents herself also stemmed from an incident as a child when she went apeshit on another kid bc she was defending a friend.

so from then on she was taught taught to conceal don’t feel those emotions — which just unfortunately extended to any positive ones, not just negative ones like rage.

so when she is brought to twst, there’s no memory of her being forced to hold back her emotions so she’s just unapologetically affectionate and open with everyone bc that’s how she really is.

but every now and then, memories of her breaking down haunt her in her dreams or as subtle reminders in the waking world.

then yuusha just goes on her day like she just wasn't reminded of her past.

(unnecessarily tragic lore my beloved, but anyway—)

another extremely brief tangent and bonus -> the two songs i had on loop while drawing pre-twst yuusha

lindsey stirling my beloved i love her music

the songs are such a vibe

her instrumentals in “lose you now” especially makes me feel some sort of way 😖

[iraprince]

I adore all your art with cookie and was interested in Sapphicworld- but I’m curious (so plz don’t take this as a negative-) what exactly in your opinion sets it apart from other Queer PBTA hacks like Thirsty Sword Lesbians?

I’d just really like to hear your thoughts about it as a system and world especially given you are a indie developer yourself?

hi!! thank you!!

so, a few caveats before i start off — one, i actually haven't played many other pbta games (like for example i know Of thirsty sword lesbians + own a copy that i've poked around in but im not very familiar w it), so i honestly can't provide much in the way of comparing/contrasting it w other pbta stuff in the same vein, and my impressions of sapphicworld are pretty much just contained to the game as its own thing, not so much sapphicworld as a Type Of Game

and two, while i am a dev myself, i'm a huge novice! like, i'm proud of the stuff i put out and i love doing it, but i personally feel like my lack of experience is such that like, i don't think my opinions in this case are particularly informed by my own work as a dev or anything. all this to say im happy to answer this question, i think i just gotta tackle it from a different frame than what ur specifically asking!

BUT ANYWAY. i can still talk abt why im so excited abt sapphicworld in a way that has kind of outstripped other stuff in general, and for me it's about the world 100%. like i honestly spend close to no time thinking abt the fact that sw is even pbta to be honest. not that the mechanics + gameplay aren't important, bc they are thoughtfully crafted and well done and fun, and i'm saying that from the perspective of someone who playtested earlier versions that have now been reworked! it's just like, not what comes to mind first for me — what's exciting and fresh and irreplaceable abt the game in my mind is like. it is fully committed to immersing you in an extremely lush, strange, richly fleshed out world, one with a long history and folklore/mythology and a TON of really fun npcs who all have different subcultures and its own calendar with seasonal holidays and regional terrain with specific fleshed out dungeons/towns/etc to discover and even like, specific FOODS typical to each different region and and and and —

and maybe at first that seems kind of overwhelming, and tbh it is. when i first got into it and i was going thru the playtest document (which if im remembering right was like. ~300 pages shorter at the time than the current playtest doc) i DO remember anxiously thinking to myself "god this is a LOT and idk if i'll be able to retain enough of this to rp convincingly" etc etc. but like... it's just really compelling, and it does an incredible job of mixing humor and gravity and horniness in a perfect ratio that always comes across as intensely earnest and makes it equally easy to have a fun goofy time or a really emotional time, which i think is REALLY hard to do.

and while normally it's hard for me to get thru something that dense and long all i can really say is that i just straight up like it enough and was charmed by it enough to pick away at it until i grasped it and felt like i understood a bunch about the world, which also has a curve to it bc in structure and tone its very different from any of your... idk more Standard fantasy or sci fi worldbuilding, so it's not like u can immediately slot in ur expectations from other settings and just learn some new vocab words, it's a world that from my perspective also Functions differently than a lot of other fictional settings in a way that's a little hard to describe succinctly. (none of this is succinct to begin with but ykwim). it makes me want to gm my own campaign, really really bad, when usually i have always been absolutely Terrified of the idea of gming! idk man. it has a Flavor. it's full of Vapors. u get transported somewhere else reading it and playing it in a way i haven't experienced in a while and a lot of times after a playtest session i felt like my brain stayed behind in sapphicworld for a pretty long time.

i feel like i am sounding a little melodramatic and incoherent but like. genuinely sapphicworld is just a fictional world that i am really bone-deep charmed by and interested in and when i WAS reading thru the rulebook for those first days it did not take me long at all to find myself constantly thinking "i want to play in this world, i want to play in this world, i can't wait to play in this world," and i just think that's really special. and like — just as your curiosity abt comparing sw to tsl was not intended as a diss or a negative, what im abt to say is similarly neutral — im a person who sometimes finds it a little difficult to click with or feel excited abt a lot of the Queer Indie Stuff that i see get popular with other people, bc it just doesn't connect w my specific lesbian + trans experience; not that it feels inauthentic but that im like, oh, idk, i think these guys are just. not My Zone, ykwim. on the flip side so much of the humor and heart and transness and sex in sapphicworld is something that really resonates w me and just Clicks in a way that i have also found really special.

rounding myself off before i ramble for like five more paragraphs but just as one more morsel of something i like abt sapphicworld that is a little more concrete than me spinning around the room yelling "I JUST LIKE IT OKAY": one of the most fun parts of character creation is getting to mix and match your kind (sort of like ancestry/species, the form ur physical body takes) with a subculture. so u get things like a werewolf babe (cookie! babe being a subculture that focuses on being Like, Totally Hot), or a centaur knight, or a minotaur debaucher, or a vampire cowboy, or an organist (cthulu-y tentacle guy) scenester, or a skeleton wizard, etc etc etc etc — there are SO MANY to pick from that when i was trying to bait my friends into playing w me i couldn't find a convenient way to list them all so ppl could start thinking abt their characters. and every possible combination basically is interesting and amusing and fun and practically THROWS a great oc into your lap and i literally think i could amuse myself endlessly just Making Characters in sapphicworld and never actually playing w them.

[panting, disheveled] so tldr. i like it. uh. what sets sapphicworld apart from other ttrpgs to me is that i have fallen balls to the wall in love with the very soul of it to the point where i don't even really think about it in comparison to other games at all and it has just become an Experience to me and i suppose i cannot guarantee anyone else will fall into insane homosexual hysteria in the same way but here we are. HOPE THAT HELPS

(ALSO PSSST. idk if this is just perfect timing or if ur curiosity was specifically prompted by this but the @sapphicworldttrpg patreon DID just launch and if any of this has been intriguing u should check it out. okay mwah bye)

[theallegedbird]

LITERALLY

Like

For example "6up 5oh (cop out)" IS LITERALLY THAT ONE POLICE EP FROM S5 where Jonny said the disclaimer at the beginning OR or bro c'mon literally "dr sunshine is dead" is about the dark OR "hand me my shovel, I'm going in" is about the buried or I personally connect "Mr. capgras encounters a second-hand vanity: tulpamancer's prosopagnosia/pareidolia (as direct result of trauma to fusiform gyrus)" to the stranger bc he keeps singing "you're trying to replace yourself" which I think really fits and also the song "skeleton appreciation day in vestal, my (bones)" also reminds me of the buried but also a bit of Jane Prentiss/the infestation and the jarchivist himself and also the rot yezyez the rotting too and also the beginning of the song "front street" where he sings about the slaughterhouse and meat...yes It's the flesh and the slaughter!!!!

And bro c'mon will wood is just so bbgirl his songs just fit SO WELL it's almost as if he wrote them specifically for tma

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I'm low-key obsessed with him and I don't even listen to all the songs (I have the entire "everything's alot" album downloaded >I love it really mutch + a few other ones so I hope this counts ❤️)

Have a nice day btw love youuu❤️❤️❤️❤️ (I hope I didn't squish your brain to death with this friggin paragraph I just wrote :'] )

[ID of image in ask: a screenshot of a caption of a tumblr post by theallegedbird that the ask is responding to, it reads "memento mori- will wood, i can and will find a way to relate every ww song to tma istg". End ID]

NO LITERALLY,, YOU ARE SO RIGHT

kind of got carried away so um. long post

completely agree and feel the same about 6up 5oh cop out, dr sunshine is dead and mr capgras

6up 5oh cop out to me especially could be linked to daisy and the guy you mentioned as well as the hunt as whole because of both of them being heavily tied to and criticising the police/police brutality

warning for discussion of eds in this paragraph

skeleton appreciation day for me is the flesh,, dont get me wrong i can see your ideas too but i always interpreted the song as being about eds and negatively/unhealthily watching your weight in order to achieve "the perfect body" by society's standards; by being skinny,, "tell me you can see my bones" , "to cut down on my silhouette" and the whole end dialogue, so that fits into the flesh for me considering another situation of someone wanting the "ideal body" is something that is discussed in a flesh statement (mag90-bodybuilder), but i can see some themes in the song that can could be corruption, plus both the flesh and corruption are pretty closely linked at times (and smirkes system is just inaccurate to begin with)

dr sunshine is dead is as you said the dark to me,, in the sense of someone maybe becoming an avatar (song starts with narrator afraid of the dark/not knowing and ends with them embracing it) but also could be seen as the stranger or even spiral because of its themes (like most of ww's work) involving identity and the self

for hand me my shovel,, may i propose it is also s2 jon coded. very s2 jon coded. it is very much his paranoid need for the 'truth'. do you. do you get me

id also like to propose some other ww songs that are also extremely tma coded,, to me

blackboxwarrior!! ok stick with me but yknow that one dialogue bit that starts "hello, welcome. why don’t you take a seat?" that whole section. thats og elias and jonah in elias' interview. do you see the vision. its them. i always take it as jonah being the narrator when looking at this song with tma in mind,, with the "you’ve lost your mind and almost lost your life before, so you’ll be fine" and "for what it’s worth if it was going to kill you, boy, it would have by now" being directed at jon. please say im not insane for this i. i listen to this song a lot.

on the topic of jon and jonah your body my temple. because. because hes using jon as a pawn,, "your visage my visions" (i know this songs about sydney and elijah ch&t but can be tma too. if you think about it)

again with jon and jonah (i despise jonah and the godforsaken thing that is jonelias but their dynamic is so interesting) laplaces angel,, dont know how to put this one into words but do you Get It,, could be both or either of them really,, certain lyrics include: "it doesnt take a killer to murder it only takes a reason to kill", "the difference twixt fate and free will is whether youre singing", "whatever you think of me, if you were in my shoes, youd walk the same damn miles i do"

against the kitchen floor could also be jmart,, especially these parts: "i just havent learnt to be as human as you are yet", "i still dont know who you are, only that im still lonely", "apologizing for my life and ever entering yours" "im not a good person, im barely a person at all"

cicada days,, jon. jon coded. i really want ro make something with especially the in case i die live show version bc it just fits. so well. "it just feels inhumane to lose this much", "let all my red flags fade to white yeah i give up", and biggest one to me "here at the end of days, my god what have i done?" as in mag160,,

cotard's solution is the stranger,, again with the identity

there’s more but i’ve just realised how long this already is so ima leave it there

pff sorry for hijacking your ask but i’m a sucker for media analysis and any opportunity to do that with not one but two of my special interests causes me to black out and the autism to take over <33

also you’re so real for everything is lot,, favourite album

have a great day or night :D

[zozoistireds-blog]

This post is mainly to flesh out a fanfic idea I posted a bit go for anyone who wants to read. Also, please be nice :) I'm not good at getting out my ideas into words

Prompt idea

This fanfic idea mainly centres around the arc family and how each of them react to the news of jaunes supposed death (set after volume 8)

And each chapters has each family member finding out in some way the news of what happend at altas.

Jaune's parents

Jaunes parents get a visit from someone who is apart of the atlas military who in as much or as little detail as one likes what happend to jaune and the others in atlas and we get to see how his parents react to the news of their sons 'death' whether negative or positive.

After the person leaves that can be when we get to see their reactions and learn how his relationship mightve been with them.

And How they react can be up to whoever

janues siblings

After jaunes parents react I believe there'd be a domino affect of one by one all of jaunes sisters finding out about atlas too,

Depending on what is wanted they can each have varying different reactions.

Like completely devastated or not being able to process or something in-between.

Jaunes aunts/uncles (optional)

Now this one can be optional since we don't know if jaune has any Aunts ot uncles at this point in time, but if he did I'd assume this could be how it goes down

They could get a call or letter from anyone if the arc family detailing what had been told to them about atlas and we could see how the relationship is between everyone in the family and see whether or not there'd be any more angst.

Ending

I think the ending could go two different ways or both,

The first ending could be some sort of memorial for jaune that his family attend where they share their regrets towards him or share their fond memories and basically see how jaune impacted each of them big or small.

The second ending could go like this, jaunes family one way or another end up in vacuo where they all end up reuniting with jaune (and team rwby) where basically we get to have the happy or sad ending where we see how much or how little he meant to his family with how they react to seeing him alive and well after how many weeks or months he's been presumed dead.

Anyway that's all I have for this Prompt hope you guys enjoyed!

And stay tuned for more ideas down the line :)

Link to orignal post:

https://www.tumblr.com/zozoistireds-blog/724893233057038336/fanfic-idea-im-probably-never-gonna-write-but?source=share

[ghost-proofbaby]

ghost!!! i am sobbing weeping crying omg twenty four hours is coming to an end and it is so very bittersweet. i found 24hrs on ao3 and stayed up until three am binging it, then immediately went and followed you on tumblr, and ive been keeping track of it ever since. im not very good a tumblr since i only started using the app for fanfic last october, and i am one of those people that sometimes is ashamed of being a fangirl, so it’s almost unbelievable to me that i have a space where no one will know it’s me and i can enjoy whatever i want. im still trying to adjust to that, tell myself that it’s okay to repost fanfics and that this is a safe space. but twenty four hours has helped me with a LOT of that. before i used to kinda be ashamed to go on tumblr, but now i scroll it daily bcs i didn’t want to miss any updates on the fic. i also made the plunge and officially got an ao3 account, after oh about, seven or eight years of reading fan fiction practically non stop. so im getting there, and i just wanted you to know that twenty four hours helped me to get there.

and i think the main reason that twenty four hours has helped me get there is because of the quality of your writing. you write beautifully, intricately, and most of all—truthfully. ive never read an x reader that has felt so real, so fleshed out and most of all, relatable. i would find myself having internal monologue as i read from the ‘reader’s’ perspective and then the next paragraph would, sometimes word for word, have ‘reader’ think what i was thinking. this fic was also so healing, in a way. the way you used literary devices to describe such complicated situations had me often feeling relieved—like i had just let something go. as someone with a lot of baggage right now and who has a hard time believing they could ever be loved, it was at the very least comforting to have my insecurities and my negative qualities forgiven and proven untrue through ‘reader’ if that makes sense.

ik this is sappy as hell but i genuinely feel this way. your writing has moved me in a way that actual published books haven’t done for me in a while. so i just want to thank you for the time, effort, and thought that went into this fic. and secondly, i want to suggest the idea of adapting this into a novel to be published or a screenplay for a movie, in case no one has mentioned that to you or you haven’t thought of it. i really believe you have something good here, and with your talent, i could see you being very successful. this story of these two people—who both have internal wounds inflicted on themselves, each other, or from the past—who then grow more self aware and choose to be honest, even when it’s hard, is such a rare thing to see in literature or any kind of art. and i think the world needs more of that. bcs, like i said, this fic was more than just a fic to me. it touched me deeply. i cried, i laughed, and i reflected my own self. in short, it was a journey in more ways than one.

so thank you—for your art, for ‘reader’, and for eddie. i can’t wait for the epilogue and to read whatever stories you may have planned for the future.

<3

(ps so sorry to have word vomited in your ask box.)

first and foremost — never apologize for word vomit in my ask box. i am always a-okay with that. 🖤

i don’t even know what to say. i have this terrible habit of putting a lot more of myself than i care to admit into both my readers and my ocs, and most of the time, it’s not the good parts. usually, it’s the absolute worst parts of myself. i take all the rot inside, and i throw it into these projections, and i try to justify how someone with those qualities would still be deserving of love. it’s always been a coping mechanism. always. and then i’ve always strived to be a better writer, make my words worth reading, because i know how much of myself i’ve put into it.

to know other people see themselves in reader or eddie or any character i write is both so strangely hopeful but also so saddening, and it just makes me want to give you the biggest hug 🫂

on the note of publishing, i have definitely considered it. it’s just a really scary journey to decide to take. but the day i do decide to take the plunge, whether with this story or any other i’ve written or any entirely new one, you all will be the first to know 🖤🖤🖤

thank you so so much for reading, for letting my writing touch your soul the way it has. i am so honored that this fic has had this type of affect on you. this message genuinely made me cry. i am sending you all the love. <3

[chesthighwater]

by thé way. wips roundup that absolutely no one asked for

first of all in the daudmartin brainrot corner we've got

sequel to bctbk, as promised. i have a major "plot" point planned, and then it might go one of two directions... we shall see :3c

the high overseer martin/assassin daud fic that i've posted a few excerpts from. essentially daud manifests himself into the abbey suggestively asking for ~spiritual guidance~ (lol) and things escalate from there. this has to get finished at some point because its like one of the first things i started writing for them. it deserve to see the light of day

a mildly humorous high overseer martin/spymaster daud fic. kind of a challenge for myself also- i find spymaster daud hard to imagine, and am not that used to writing daudmartin where they're not constantly trying to one-up/double cross each other/at each other's throats flirtatiously. presumably will not be nsfw (or at least, i'm not planning on it, but i make no promises. can't know where the ol inspiration will take me).

oh heres another high overseer martin thing! who wouldve thought! this time with Responsibility and Abbey Politics and Decisions. and working through issues. so many fucking issues. this one is actually actively in the works so ill leave it at that for now ;>

daudmartin pwp with genuinely 0 plot. like, negative plot. this thing defies plot. i can barely even tell you if it's an au or what, i might sprinkle a few nonsexual sentences in if i'm feeling generous but that's it. other than that it's literally just about martin being very quiet during sex and daud trying every trick he has in his book (which admittedly isn't many) to change that instead of like, communicating

augh speaking of plot-defying pwps. "what if overseers had (some appropriate equivalent to) confessions". there is some lore in here obviously but the entire point of it is confessional dirty talk. i dont KNOW

[REDACTED] pwp which im not even gonna advertise itll just appear one day and if you find it you found it

mostly unplanned ideas that i might flesh out: sokolov portrait thing. some dunwall noir stuff purely for martin in a cassock reasons (and sexualising religious guilt reasons. if i knew anything at all about priests i'd be working on this much faster). something involving the outsider appearing to martin (this might just get absorbed in a more well fleshed out idea at some point). martin Suffering More, because i want him in a situation where his wit fails completely (more desperation! more excuses! i am weak for this i really am.). something involving some more Action- fighting together against an acute threat? i think there should be more fighty martin out there. i am the change i want to see in the world

(not including the various snippets for the eternal serkonan vacation au which i already laid out there)

in the thief crossover brainrot corner (i bet you forgot i allude to thief crossovers in my description!)

also a sokolov portrait thing, but i have it way more planned out. corvo really, really wants garrett to sit in for a portrait (especially now when he's officially the empire's shadiest most mysterious spymaster ever). he reluctantly agrees, but Under One Condition.

a sort of relationship chronicle via heart lines. definitely starts with corvo's diplomatic mission and possibly ends with some happy dh2 era content. obviously i have the heart lines planned out.

possibly something involving more political intrigue/royal drama type stuff? i'm lucky enough to have access to someone who can give me some really good examples/plots if i fail to come up with anything myself.

(this is just a thief thing but i have had a viktoria/lt. mosley thing running around my brain for AGES. i want to explore how their relationship develops so bad. i know they have literally one interaction in canon but they are my blorbinas and i have mentally expanded their backstories so hard the story is basically begging to be written at this point)

anyway if you read this unreasonably unnecessarily long post i love you. i am sending you a kiss. wanna get married

[maximuslazerbeamsyou]

How do you think the memory plot could've worked?

YIPEEE INFODUMP TIME

I think it wouldve worked as a psychological horror kinda thing, like looking at your best friend in the eyes and having a great time yet you feel something weird in your stomach, it isn't right, he is your best friend yet whenever he says your name you can't help but cry.

also, I'd feel like it should be solved and they should all get their memories back and maybe a catalyst for this action could be cwilbur, he was in utah when the explosion happened so he was unaffected by the explosion, but off course, seeing a nuclear explosion happened where your brother lives all over the news papers, would inspire him to go back.

someone else who I think could fit as a team for helping the rest of the server gain their memories back are ghostboo (has a better memory than ever now that he's dead) and maybe something could happen where everyone on the server disregards them as crazy while they try their best to get them back to who they were before, and I think this would be a really good opportunity for cwilbur to get a bit more character development.

like, imagine him trying to gather memories and stuff that was important for his relationships with others and realizing that he has had more of a negative impact on people than a positive one and he has a conflict on wether continuing to try and help everyone on the server get their memories back or leave them as they are so that theyre happier and don't remember all of the damage he did to them but decides to keep on trying to help people because last time he saw tommy, he left him behind and look what happened thanks to that, he's ready to actually do things to be better instead of just saying sorry and moving on.

im still trying to think of what i would do with ghostboo and the characters with memory wipe, but i think this is part of the main plot premise for what I think couldve been done to make a good season 2 and PLEASE if anyone has any ideas or corrections send them to me because ive been working on this premise since november but i feel like now more than ever its the best time to flesh it out and try to make something good out of a pile of garbage.

[ritterblood]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

tagged by stolen from: @aetherstories tagging: whomever reads this!!

Name: Curry

Pronouns: She/her 

Preference of communication: Discord, I do reply to tumblr IMs but the former is just way easier

Name of muse(s): Haurchefant here and then Alberic, Fordola, Foulques, Hilda, Hien, Erenville, Ameliance, Jullus, Yugiri, Fandaniel, Charlemend and Thordan and also Tsukiyama from TG. 

Experience/how long (months/years?): I started out on a forum when I was 17 so roundabout 15-16 years by now.

Platforms you’ve used: Forums (jcink, zetaboard), tumblr and discord

Pet peeves / dealbreakers: People forcing plots or headcanons onto my muses that just do not work with how I write them. I love plotting, I love headcanoning and I can compromise, but at the end of the day, the version of the muse I write will be mine and no one else’s idea of them. Also too much negativity that veers into guilt tripping or passive aggressiveness when we’re talking OOC-wise. 

Fluff, angst, or smut: All three, though there has to be a good set up for the angst. I don’t like writing angst simply for the sake of angst and there have to be moments of levity in between as well or some kind of growth, be it positive or negative. It just stresses me out if there’s no working to some kind of resolution to the emotional heaviness. I’m also someone that prefers happy endings lmao. 

Plots or memes: Both, though I take a long ass time to reply to memes so.... 

long or short replies: I can do both, but if I’m into a plot or a thread it’ll invariably turn long. 

Best time to write: It depends, but usually in the morning. Which is obviously when I’m at work. 

Are you like your muse(s): Some yes, some no, but I usually don’t pick up muses because they’re like me, but because I’m interested in fleshing out what makes them them and seeing/challenging myself if I can do an equally good job with muses that share my personality traits vs muses that are the complete opposite of me. 

[rosanthium]

Wheel of Time Review Retitled: Surprise! A Man hates Women and Diversity.

As someone who actively consumes a lot of film content I find myself curious as to how different prominent and professional film critics and reviewers are to my own experiences as an audience consuming content. After all, art is in the eyes of the beholder and film is just that, another form of art that can be interpreted in many ways. How people interpret content is largeley based on and tailored to the individual's personal experiences and identity, which ultimately affects the reading of film in either positive or negative ways.

Now as a queer woman and a cinephile, I have some beef. Above is a review of the TV adaptation of the The Wheel of Time, written by one James Delingpole for The Spectator UK. I am in no way a misandrist or man hater, or anything along those lines, but this review has pushed my buttons to the enth. Too many times have I seem film reviewers (largely old white men) absolutely slam perfectly acceptable and creative content just for the fact that women may have depth of character, people of colour exist as does the lgbtqia+ community.

Never have i seen a review so biased and hateful, not even towards the TV adaptation but for the source materal too and it perplexes me how these reviews are allowed to continue being published and pass the editing room. Im not talking about being PC, but fuck if your going to review something base it on merit and not the fact that ripping source material to shreds, reducing the author to a failure in the fantasy literary world and then criticising the thespian abilities of the young actors, makes a review credible. Talk about hate shot after hate shot.

I don't normally get this fired up but today I'm on this hell app letting you all know, how lovers of the books, the show, the characters and the actors, have been so denegrated to "trite" and "tripe" is absolutely disgusting. You know how we learnt "If you don' t have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?" this, I feel, should have been the lesson here, as the only purpose of this review was to let us all know that this guy just doesn't like the Wheel of Time, full stop. Here are a few beautiful examples I would love to share with yall:

Firstly I would like to point out the arrogant preconception that reading a 14 book epic fantasy series will be feasible on a 2 week holiday. Yet despite personal recs and global sucess, the persuasion to pick up the book actually stemmed from the fact that Robert Jordan was a decorated war hero, engineer and an absolute mans man which inspired Delingpole to follow through with the book recommendation, then using Jordan's military and mathematical macho backround to justify his disappoinment in the failings of the book, as if that instantly gives agency for good authorship. The failings in Delingpole's eyes being:

The reviewer didnt even finish the books, and i feel we can all agree that the best thing about the Wheel of Time is how well the characters develop and change throughout the story to make a well fleshed out and rich fantasy world. By reducing it to a Lord of the Rings rip off, we see how, instead of reading the way Jordan developed those ideas that yes, have existed in other stories too, have rather opted in just disregarding TWoT as a failed copy cat that has "basic dialogue, leaden prose and uninspiring characters." Ahh, there is the literary language I so look for in justification for poor reviews, and yet we haven't even got to the show yet. As a reviewer who seems to hate the source material, Dalingpole sure had hopes that the TV adaptation would be different in his eyes, but nope, its EVEN WORSE.

Now lets get to the meaty part cos boy its a doozy:

Fuck me where to start. For someone so reverent of Game of Thrones and Lord of the Rings this guy sure does have some hang ups about unique fantasy names, especially outright naming the 3 examples who are played by poc actors as "annoying and unpronouncable". Sure "James", Mr Western White Man who, unsurprisingly, has a problem with foreign names, (the racist subtext is starting to smell a bit here). I wonder as such an avid reader and professional reviewer how illiterate he became when reading Dune, or any other series that has predmonitely white protagonist and unpronouncable names.

Now to Moraine and the Aes Sedai. Unfunny, pompous and crotchety witches/seers/spell-weavers who only exist as a dominating and powerful political and protector class to pander to new age feminism and paganistic hippies. WOW. God forbid women have any sort of agency and respect in an epic medieval fantasy except to be the lovers, mothers, sisters or whores of great male heros. And how dare such a "macho man" like Robert Jordan pander to these ideologies. The only thing that makes sense is if he wrote an entire, intricate world surrounding womens' power as an elaborate Barney Stinson ploy to make Jordan desirable to female audiences so he could essentially, fuck them. Yes, thats right. Delingpole believes that if a male author writes about powerful women, it must only be with predatory intentions. I dont care about defending Jordan, but I do care about how narrow this lense is, and that for this male reviewer, is the only logical explanation for a female-centred narrative written by a man. As if men can't write women with any authenticity. As if women can't exist unless to be of service to a man. As if we aren't over the tireless harmful gender roles and stereotypes that 100 years of Hollywood has reinforced. As if nothing can break out of that mold and formula unless its pandandering to minorities or feminism. I can't for the life of me see how this perspective could fly these days when it is based on so much misogyny and ignorance that I've got whiplash. And this isn't even confined to the books but bleeds into the TV series as well.

Cold but sexy-ish Gandalf? Delingpole has futher reinforced his Tolkien hard-on by essentially saying that Moraine is unlikable because she is mysterious and withdrawn (which if he stuck around, he might have learnt why there are 14 goddamn books) and that her only likability is by reducing her character to looks only. That the only redeeming quality for a MAIN CHARACTER is her fuckability. For someone who didn't finish the story or is even sticking around to finish this TV series, he sure has seemed to make up his mind. I think we can all agree that Rosamund Pike is doing an exceptional job as Moraine, and the nuances she is bringing in the show is dominating the screen by bringing the source material to life in a new, refreshing way. I goddamn screamed and cried when they canonically made Moraine a gay woman in a loving relationship with the goddamn Amyrlin Seat. What a power move. What a moment to witness, this small change that made me feel more seen and connected and personal than any other adaptation I've ever consumed, and made me hope for the future of representation on the screen. Not saying that the books and the TV adaptation are perfect, and that the debate on creative liberty is one I'm not going to get into here, but this level of criticism based on the Reviewer's personal bias makes me wonder if they were the best choice in critiquing this narrative.

Moraine isnt the only protagonist under fire. The four possible Dragons are reduced to "petulant teenages" with no "discernable personality", and now I start to wonder whether we have seen the same show and read the same book. Sure, they are doe eyed villiage folk embarking on a great adventure with life/death ramifications. Since when was innocence regarded as petulance, when was the mistakes of simple mountain folk thrust into larger destiny held to such a high regard, as if teenagers aren't fucking stupid and mess up sometimes. I doubt this reviewer has the same views of Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin if you get my meaning. Hypocritical doesnt even begin to describe the level of arrogance Dalingpole has to have his word be God and the only opinion that matters in this context. And he doesnt stop there.

I know there has been some controversy in this community about the way Barney Harris is interpreting the role of Mat as a serious, brooding and whiny figure instead of the kind, trickster like, humouros conman and scoundrel as he was portrayed in the books. Either way, my personal opinion had me (ironically) disliking Harris's portrayal the most out of everyone due to the fact he felt unfamiliar to me. Whether we see a different take with Harris being recast is a different matter, because Delingpole reveres the character who has adopted the most toxic traits, whilst belittleing the rest.

Reducing young emerging actors to the thespian abilities of school play mediocrity has me reeling. How dare Delingpole attack the greener actors and diminish the hard work and talent that goes into making this kind of series, as well as insinuating that hotness and racial/queer representation is the only reason these people were cast in the first place. Im sure he didnt have any problems with the young, predominately 'white' actors of Game of Thrones, as if they are the pinnacle of acting abilities. And yes I'm gonna look at this through a racial and queer lense because goddamn James seems to feel the need to attack every minority represention left right and centre within this review. For someone hell bent on not finishing either the books or the tv series to find out if these young actors can "grow into their roles", he really is not giving any space to change his mind. Which brings me full circle and is further supported by his conclusionary statements:

In conclusion James Dalingpole wishes Game of Thrones never ended and that any form of diversity is a hindrance to the sucess of television fantasy. The Wheel of Time is thus, a cheap knockoff of every medieval fantasy that has been popularised in culture, and any decision to include minority representation in the source material, or the adaptation has ultimately lead to failure in his eyes. And yet here, Delingpole reinforces that it is the most successful fantasy series since Lord of the Rings. So how did it go so wrong? Answer: it didn't, Delingpole just has a lifelong perscription of bigoted glasses and his script ain't changing any time soon.

I am not saying that my rant on this review is the only truth out there, we all have our own opinions and interpretations, but having a reviewer so biased against diversity, whether it be gender, race or sexuality, leads me to wonder why these kinds of reviews are allowed any agency at all. Everyone's a critic, sure, but never have I seen such a blatant disregard and disrespect of the books, the fans, the actors and even the studio execs. It irks me that this drivel is still being reinforced because these opinions don't actually give any form of depth or nuance, just hatred for the divulge in formula. The classic "Bring me back to the good ol days" mentality where anyone who wasn't a man was opressed. The Wheel of Time is not Lord of the Rings, nor is it Game of Thrones, it is beloved by many, myself included, and can stand on its own if we stop the comparisons to what 'was' normal and Hollywood formula and embrace that diversity is becoming the norm. Women exist, people of colour exist and so do lgbtqia+ people who are allowed to have agency in how we create a new norm and formula for medieval epic fantasies. I, for one, am someone who can seperate book from adaptation and am so far loving both, but to write this review as an attack on the narrative as a whole feels outdated and honestly pathetic. Here I am, reading the words of another angry old white man who is pissed off that representation is being normalised, when we should be embracing the fact that outdated source material being brought to modern audiences need to reflect a sense of modernity, which thus means, adapting women-lead narratives, casting lgbtqia+ and poc actors to adapt the roles and just outright not give people like this Reviewer any more agency to reinforce these harmful opinions. I'm also not saying the Wheel of Time is perfect, because like everything, it has flaws, but outright calling it a failure due to its type of content, makes me wonder if James Dalingpole has actually enjoyed anything since we emerged into the 21st century.

Anyway, rant over. Check out the full article yourselves and suss it out. Am i reading too much into this? I hope not, cos this is just one example of so many film reviews I have seen this year absolutely sloshing new films and series just based on the fact it is "Too PC" and this last one got me in the gut. I'm over it because I fucking love how film these days are setting the standard for progressing culture away from the dominant western patriarchal ideologies. It starts with small change, and i know that change is scary for book purists and fragile egos, but the only way we are going to see rich, personalised and diverse stories on screen is if we stop letting the voice of an old white man dictate what constitutes good content or not. I don't know, fight me about this if you want but I'm just fucking tired.

[cdroloisms]

haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

[denkisauce]

hi hi so i like many others have headcanons for next gen kids and i wanted to share my kamishin kid bc i LOVE him and have so many headcanons for him. he's very fleshed out so click that mf keep reading 😤😤🔥✨-> ->

so this all started with my quirk fusion idea — This boy is an instance of quirk singularity combining quirks to a dangerous degree. His quirk is that he can manipulate the electricy in someone else's brain— so essentially “fuck up your brain” The Quirk. this can range short circuiting other people to straight up, on the spot murdering someone with 0 fight at all. Just. Insta-kill. its very dangerous and since it’s sort of impossible for him to train without risk, he is essentially quirkless.

Its hard for him though, to live in this superpowered world where he’s powerless but also secretly incredible powerful? not many people know the truth about his quirk

this is one part anxiety but also a conscious decision on him and his dads’ parts. while prohero kids are out of the spotlight, kamishin is quirkless as far as the public knows, for his own protection bc of the fear that villains would try to take advantage of him/any negative attention he recieve

while all of this definitely gives him angst and issues, it helps that he has two really great and loving dads <3 (and pro hero aunts and uncles 🥺)

he takes after shinsou a lot with the quirk angst. he's feared turning villainous or hurting people and stuff 🥺. but it helps a lot to have a dad who Gets it and bc shinsou understands him he definitely has an easier time with his issues <3

the first time his quirk manifested was luckily on denki and everyone was very confused. like, is denki bceoming so talented he can short circuit without activating his powers? ehh... nope 🙃 the second time it happened was against his kindergarten teacher — he put her in a coma for like three days and thats when things got serious. i know this is effed up but im sorry that's like his whole deal :/ :/

The other more fun stuff!

deku is his favorite uncle :) between the relatability of growing up quirkless and the positive vibes he just loves him. also deku has brainstormed positive ways to use his quirk but its still too risky to try but kamishin appreciates ☺

he's also really close with eri! she's a very cool younger aunt and their quirk manifestation origins are kind of similar in the hurting people department so she's VERY protective of him. if theres anyone he could train with itd be her, but he doesn't want to risk it. and despite deku's encouragement, his quirk is dangerous

personality wise he takes after shinsou more, but not entirely! he’s definitely more energetic and spunky

oh he’s a bitch in the best of ways

he has Kaminaris pick up line tendencies but it fucking WORKS??? yeah he's a bastard and a flirt

childhood friends with the kiribaku kid but lately there’s definitely been something more between them??? sparks are flying 👀👀

being a hero's not really an option for him but he’s cool with that. he has a pretty deep seeded fear of his own power. i have to make a separate Krbk kid post but kiribakus son is also not interested! they kind of bond over it. they both love their dads but think they’re kind of lame lol

His favorite pro hero is dynamite ☺️ like it says in the pic this is one part to piss of his dads and the kiribaku kid lol but also he loves how headstrong bakugou is

has kamis adhd but shinsous smarts

a real science nerd, in a bookish way but also in a lets-experiment-with-getting-electrocuted-way

he's planning on going into quirk research. he's smart and sciency and is obviously very personally invested in learning and contributing to the quirk sciences!

oh he a music boy!! In a band with momojirou kid -- just look at that fucking punk

its hard to see in the pic but he has gold freckles 🥺🥺

i dunno that's all i have for now!! i love him!!

[vs-redemption]

Hey, im not sure if your requests are open if not ignore this lol but do you think you can do a part two of finding out their unknown child is/was being abused by their mother with Shouto and any other character you would like? (May I ask if Shouto's child could be a girl if it's not too much? Im soft when it comes to him having a daughter🥺) Sorry for being a bother if requests are closed. I can't find where it says if it is or not. Thank you!❤

From Cindy: I’ve written so many of these now! I hope they’re not getting repetitive. It was really nice writing Todoroki (I’ve been thinking about him with a kid recently anyway) And I chose Dabi as the second character because the only other villain I did this scenario for was Shigaraki.

A Surprise Meeting (Todoroki and Dabi meet their abused child)

You can read the same scenario but with Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa HERE You can read the same Scenario with Hawks, Fatgum and Shigaraki HERE

Warning:⚠️Angst, Child Abuse, mentions of murder/killing⚠️

Shoto Todoroki

Winter was in full effect as Shoto made his way home after his evening patrols. There was a thin layer of snow covering the ground already, and with the rate in which the white fluff was currently coming down, he predicted there would be even more to trudge through when he went to work in the morning. He decides to stop into the nearest convenience store to pick up something hot to eat. He wasn’t particularly cold since he was able to warm himself up pretty well with his quirk, but the pangs of hunger after a long day of work could not be ignored. He sighs in disappointment when he sees that the yakisoba bread is out of stock before going up to the counter and asking for a few steamed meat buns out of the glass case next to the register.

After purchasing his snack he went back outside into the snowy weather to continue his journey home. The sun had already set, so he took his time to enjoy the city streets which were decorated with holiday lights. A small bubble of excitement formed in his chest as he remembered the Christmas party he’d been invited to by one of his classmates from his days back in UA. After graduation, they’d all split up to start their own agencies around the country, so they tried to do something fun once a year as an excuse to see each other again and catch up.

“Mommy, can I have one of those?” the tiny voice pulls Shoto from his day dreaming and he looks across the street to see a mother and daughter making their way through the snow. The girl was really young, no more than five or six years old.

“No!” the mother’s answer comes out harsh and the little girl slumps her head.

“Okay,” the girl sighs and they continue walking. Shoto keeps watching them for moment just out of habit. After all, he was a pro-hero, so it was natural for him to be concerned over a woman and her child waking around after dark.

“Hurry! Up!” The mom suddenly snaps and yanks the daughter forward by the arm. The aggressive behavior makes Shoto flinch, especially when the little girl stumbles over her clunky snow boots and loses her footing. He knew parents lost patience with their children sometimes, but he couldn’t help the memories of his own childhood that resurfaced when he saw things like that.

“Sorry mommy,” the girl yelps when the woman pulls her back up. “But my feet are getting cold.”

“I don’t care if your feet are cold,” the mother lowers her voice. “Walk faster or I’m just going to leave you here in the snow to freeze! What do you think about that?”

Something about the woman’s voice was familiar to Shoto, but he couldn’t see who she was due to the fact she was bundled up in her coat and scarf. The way she treated her child, however, left a sour taste in his mouth. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to interfere though.

“No, please don’t leave me!” The little girl begins to sniffle and struggle harder to keep up with the mother’s pace. She grabs on to the woman’s coat so that she won’t get left behind.

“Stop hanging on me!” The woman whirls around and raises her hand angrily above her head. Shoto can’t stop himself from crossing the street to step in when he sees this. Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it in time to stop the woman from slapping the child, causing her to fall back into the snow while cupping her stinging cheek in her hands.

“Excuse me,” Shoto wasn’t even sure what to say. “Is everything all right?”

“Mind your own business!” The woman turns to face him but her eyes go wide when she sees who’d approached her. Shoto reels back in surprise as well. He knew this woman. He’d been in a relationship with her years ago, but she’d disappeared one day without ever saying why.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Shoto felt extremely confused. “What happened?”

“I got pregnant,” she shrugs as if that weren’t a huge deal. Shoto’s eyes glance back to the tiny girl who had finally stood up and brushed the snow off her pants. She looks up at him and he feels the air leave his lungs. Her watery eyes were identical to his, and her hair was white with just a single lock in the front which was the same color as her mother’s. He had no idea what to do or say, so he simply reaches into the grocery bag to take out a hot meat bun to hand to her. She snatches up the food eagerly and starts munching away while Shoto looks back at his ex.

“What didn’t you tell me?” He asks, trying to keep all his emotions in check as he processes the information.

“Because I had plans for how I wanted to raise her,” the mother gestures to the girl. “And I didn’t want you to stop me. The people in your family tend to have powerful quirks. I wanted to capitalize on that, and I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

Flashbacks of the torturous trainings Endeavor had put him through as a child played in Shoto’s mind and he found himself getting angry. Just what had this woman done to the daughter he’d never even known about?

“Oh, calm down.” She says, noticing the change in the atmosphere. “It all backfired on me anyway. The girl got her quirk a few months ago and it’s nowhere near as powerful as yours or your father’s. Why do you think I’m back in town? I was planning on dropping her off on your doorstep soon anyway.” Shoto looks back at his little girl, sadness and rage consuming him. It hurt to know that she’d suffered with such a heartless parent for so long, just as he had.

“How could you talk like that about your own child?” Shoto asks, looking back at the mother.

“Don’t waste your time trying to make me feel bad,” She crosses her arms over her chest. “If you want her, take her. Otherwise I’ll find an orphanage to drop her off at.” Shoto was quick to shoot down the second option as he reaches down to lift the girl into his arms and cradle her against his chest. He feels a surge of love chase away the negative feelings in his heart as the small girl snuggles against the warmth of his left side.

He exchanges contact information with the mother so that he could get ahold of her when it came time to do all the legal paperwork that would allow him to adopt his daughter. With her cooperation, hopefully the process would go smoothly.

“Can I have another meat bun?” The girl asks shyly has he makes his way home with her in his arms so she wouldn’t have to be in the snow anymore.

“Yes, you can.” Shoto hands her the entire bag. “From now on, you can have anything you want.”

Dabi

Dabi didn’t always hang out in back alleys in the middle of the night, but when he did it was because the rest of the League of Villains had driven him to a point where, if he didn’t go off to cool down somewhere, he was liable to send them all into early graves. If he was honest with himself, the idea wasn’t without merits. There wasn’t a single one of his criminal comrades that didn’t annoy the ever loving daylights out of him. He had the misfortune though of needing them to achieve his wish of fulfilling the doctrine envisioned by the hero killer, Stain. It was for that one single reason that he didn’t end them all.

His self-imposed solitude worked wonders for a short time. The coolness of the night felt good against the burned flesh on his face and arms, but it was quiet times like these when bitter memories tended to creep into his mind and remind him of the reason he was even in the condition he was. He hated how difficult it was to just get a single moment’s peace. If he wasn’t being nagged half to death by the league, his mind was torturing him with images of his messed up past. That was the real reason behind his burning hatred. Sure, he had no problem killing as many heroes as dared to cross his path, but there was only one life that would really calm the bloodlust that constantly consumed him.

The sound of soft footsteps alerts Dabi to the presence of someone approaching. They were trying and failing to be sneaky, but he pretends to be oblivious while using his peripherals to size up the intruder. He wanted to laugh when he gets a glimpse of the form of a young boy, probably no older than seven or eight. He decided to end the kid’s ridiculous ploy before he ended up embarrassing himself.

“Didn’t your mom ever teach you not to play in dark alleys, kid?” Dabi doesn’t even bother to look at the boy who’d froze as soon as he realized he’d been caught.

“My mom’s dead,” the boy snaps and Dabi notes the vengeful tone of his voice.

“That sucks,” he says in a way that clearly showed his disinterest. Recently, Dabi’s only victims had been the scum of society. They were people who he considered so useless he couldn’t even be bothered to let them live after rejecting their pleas to join the League of Villains. “If you’re looking for revenge, I doubt it was me who killed her. And if it was, trust me when I say you’re better off.”

“I know you didn’t kill her,” the boy sounded more confident now, “because I did.” The confession throws Dabi off just a little, and he finds himself intrigued.

“Wow, kid.” He says, still sounding dismissive. “That’s pretty messed up.”

“Not as messed up as being abandoned by your father before you’re even born, and then spending your entire childhood getting slapped around by a deadbeat mom!” The kid’s voice cracks in the middle of his rant, betraying the vulnerability he was trying to hide.

“Oh,” Dabi deadpans. He was done with this conversation now. The boy’s words were seeping into his brain and poking at old traumatic wounds that were better left forgotten. If this child was out looking to cut down his father in cold blood, that was something Dabi could unfortunately relate to and understand completely.

“Well,” he speaks again once the kid failed to take the hint that he should scram. “Bothering me isn’t going to help you. If you die right here in this alley, you’ll never get the chance to fight your old man.”

Suddenly, a wave of heat rolls through the air and the entire alley lights up in eerie blue light. The familiar glow finally elicits a response from Dabi who widens his eyes and finally turns to look at the boy directly. He doesn’t know what to think when he sees bright blue flames dancing in the boy’s palms and around his arms. In the light of the fire, Dabi notices the way the boy’s brilliant blue eyes stare him down with a predatory glare that he knew all too well. It was all evidence leading him to the conclusion that he’d accidentally gotten some poor soul pregnant during his promiscuous mid-teen years. He wasn’t going to bother asking the name of the kid’s mom, he probably wouldn’t remember it anyway.

“It looks like you really drew the short stick when it comes to parents, kid.” Dabi takes a few steps towards the boy whose fire only grows with intensity the closer he gets. “I’m not sure if this’ll make you feel any better, but I can’t be blamed for abandoning someone I never knew existed.” The boy tenses up, looking unsure about what Dabi was trying to say.

“If you knew, would you’ve stayed?” He asks through clenched teeth.

“Probably not,” Dabi admits shamelessly. He kept his tone even although there was an inkling of jealousy worming its way up his spine. The boy had been wielding his blue flames for a decent amount of time now, with no hint that he was taking any damage. When Dabi had been his age, he’d already had permanent skin and nerve damage from the way his sweltering flames tore at his own body.

“You’re a monster!” The boy accuses before waving his arm to send a billowing blast of fire at his father. Dabi countered with his own burst of blue flames that knocked the boy right off his feet and onto his back. The boy scrambled to back away, but Dabi was looming menacingly over him in the blink of an eye.

“I’ve been called worse,” the villain says flatly while placing his boot on the boy’s stomach to keep him from getting away. He leans down so that his son could look into his face and understand the mistake he’d made by coming after him.

“Are you going to kill me?” the boy asks while trying to push Dabi’s foot off of him so he could breathe more comfortably.

“No,” the answer slips out before Dabi can even consider the alternative. “Not unless you try to threaten me again.” He puts a little more pressure onto his foot causing the boy to winch in discomfort. “That’s why you’re going to get out of here and never come looking for me again. You got that?” The boy nods his head obediently and Dabi removes his boot.

“I’ve got nothing to offer you,” he admits while the boy scrambles back to his feet. “Except more of the same miserable existence you’ve known until now.” The boy opens his mouth to speak, the confidence he’d shown before was long gone, but Dabi didn’t want to hear his pleading.

“Get out of here,” he allows his self-destructive flames to erupt all over his body, “now.” The boy didn’t need to be told twice. He understood the threat. He turned on his heel and ran from the alley. Dabi watched the retreating form of his son until he disappeared into the night. He takes a second to stare down at his scared hands as his brain comes to terms with what just happened. He now knew that he had a child out there in the world, but maybe it was best to tuck that knowledge away with the rest of the memories he tried so desperately to suppress. At the end of the day, it didn’t really change anything anyway.

[missputotyra]

Digimon concept : More Clarifications on Wangxian stan and JC digimon

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve Explained myself on the Internet and was met with a reaction that wasn’t really warranted

Imma take this moment To clarify things from the Now privated post

https://missputotyra.tumblr.com/private/668155691203280896/tumblr_2fYC2AS5aUmNUByZo

I am what some would Call a JC Fan I’ve never really Hated a fictional character it’s more “ oh You exist kept doing your job “, So I don’t Get why it’s such a Big deal that JC has a big Fanbase sure some of them are Delusional and stupid . But to me JC is a character that shouldnt warrant Such outcry just cause of Fanon in my personal Opinion. The Donghua , Fandom and Other media are just. filling in the blanks that MXTX Left in JCs personality.

so the Reason I even had look up anti Jiang Cheng opinons was basically due hitting a brickwall with Wangxian Stan to make her more fleshed out , Yes I tried asking people but no one responded.I was never the best Essay writer so I guess it would be confusing if you didnt attempt to search my blog. If I was Bashing I would’ve been much much more Cruel please look at my previous post complaining about Anti JC and Rabid Stans than Adapting the zknowlegde I got into Character whose Job it was to be Immature and annoying.

I’ve been think about how this Mindset Originated ,

I know I kept a Post talking about How someone didn’t like JC because he Reminded them of thier faults .

many were just tired of seeing him

some thought that Fanon was going too Far or thought they were witnessing death of the author

of Course to someone who hasn’t seen any other post about Wangxian stan / Fujoshi They would assume I was just making an excuse Bash Anti JC Opinons . Wangxian stan isnt really being Used to bash just Anti JC rather Toxic Mindsets like That in General that anti jc and rabid stans encourage . - Judging others based on how they like or view a Fictional character

- like saying All JC Stans have Toxic personality they project on to JC

- calling them a stan if they have a Postive view or calling them an anti if they share anything Negative.

- linking Peoples random Account encouraging Targeting the Account and

- Saying your cleansing The fandom

- not willing to see other perspectives

- Black and White thought

- Explaining horrible Actions = Excusing Said horrible actions

- no I’m not excusing that JC hurt WWX by say YZY hurt Jiang Cheng too .

— no I’m not excusing Bakugou‘s bullying of Deku because of his character development . Im just noting that he’s a farcry from the bullying asshole Bakugou .

- No I’m not sayinf YZY Isnt responsible for the Lotus pier being attacked but That Wen is way smarter than you all think they are and wouldve attack anyways .

- general stubbornness

And Many more

In the original Post I had the Idea to give the blogs I got Info for fake names to avoid some of the trolling they suffered in the past . I even made a reblog blog for any interesting points I came across because rabid JC Stans would probably come after me. I Realize this Was Ignorant and rather stupid Of me to do without thinking about it and Deleted the Blog And Im sorry If it seemed like stalking, I really wasnt trying to look like a stalker. Even in this Post I decided to hide that Original users name and not be lazy for once.

The ooc relationship is something I just didn’t get , It cant be an ooc Relationship if it’s Jiang Cheng Interacting with character he wouldnt have interacted otherwise plus I often call him JC Digimon meaning his Programmed from the data of Various depictions of JC Meaning the resulting Personailty is going be so different . Unlike Shotaro and Philip whose Personalities have been Consistent through most adaptations . Basically JC Digi is a Frankstein version JC.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji arent going to Wangxian Stan Anyways . Lan Zhan Digimon is going to Egdy tryhard and Wei Wuxian is planned to go with Trust issuses ( Cause CQL has a phone game )

Lastly this Person said something that means a lot cause they Really shouldn’t be comment on a Digimon related post without no interest in talking about this digimon idea I was putting my heart and soul into. There was no real critique about Wangxian stan or MC other than it was confusing so I have to assume they never never looked into why this was the case all they saw was a Chance to Criticize and Demonize another “ JC stan “ for being Delusional. Anti will probably lt still shame me for trying to make “JC a Dynamic characters Hes not “ and And most will still Not accept Or see my apology . Who cares I got this off my Chest.

[aiviloti]

my 2020 fic writer wrap-up!!

this is going to be incredibly long (a total of 1.1k lmao) so imma put a cut here, but basically thank you for being here all throughout my 2020! i appreciate you all very much <3

fav kind of fic to write:

i love writing about mutual pining slow burn process of getting together but i have NEVER WRITTEN ONE IN MY LIFE so i hope to change that in 2021

in 2020 i discovered??? humour??? so i enjoy writing about that and when people tell me i’ve succeeded in making them laugh it’s all 😳😳😳 for me

hardest fic to write but also most proud of:

to write you a song was a fic i struggled with from all of april to june which is very long?? to me??? considering i usually sit down and write things in one seating. fully fleshed ideas don’t usually take me thaaaaaat long to crunch out, but for some reason i struggled bad with this bc I really didn’t know where i was going w it lol

LA LA LAND gets an honorary mention of it’s own simply because it was 44k, and it took me all of july-september, but it’s something i still am proud of! to show how difficult it was to write/plot here’s the spreadsheet i had to use to keep track of the scenes and the chapters djkgfsjdfkjhgd

Shout out to kiroiimye , sweet , sirius and krypt for keeping my sanity intact

easiest fic to write:

this genshin impact fic: The Land Favoured by the Wind but its because ive been thinking about this idea for more than a month lol so the actual writing and editing took me less than 3 hours

there were several others too, bc ideas then to hook themselves to me then refuse to let go fjshlfgdfsg

fav fic to write:

Most definitely this sakuatsu monstrosity here by the name of Miya Atsumu's unwavering love for Sakusa Kiyoomi and an unholy amount of terrible food analogies that should not have the right to Exist lol, I only came up with the idea of Atsumu asking Osamu how to make friends bc I was friendship pining for someone at the time and then proceeded to write the entirety of it in a feverish daze! It’s as of rn my top hit / kudoed / bookmarked fic on ao3 and man, thanks for liking this as much as i did :’D

writing sequence:

i have to write from start to finish lmao i cant move on if the fic isnt chronological? the only exception was la la land bc it was too long and i had help from the spreadsheet so i alr knew where i was going i just had to write it down dfhdsfksfksdfhjg

deleting works:

the only fics i remember deleting are both first chapters of a multichap, bc i dont like having unfinished pieces on ao3, and far less if im not sure if ill finish them/if i dont know where im going w it!

if it’s dark history of shit 15 year old me wrote imma keep it there! it is an archive after all. go on, judge my fics from 5 years ago ahahahaha

best writing advice:

not a general thing and might just apply tome, but i tend to write in very convoluted ways and squish a lot in my sentences, or add to many unnecessary commas, so i received advice recently about being more mindful of the pacing and it’s helped me a lot!

worst writing advice:

none at the top of my head djgfkdsjfh if it’s bs to me i just forget it entirelyyyy

collab:

@actuallyasweetpotato​ (also aforementioned sweet) and i did a thing for bokuaka week!!!! you can find it here:  under my breath and into your scarf

wips:

9 unfinished zine pieces, 3 commissions, 1 exchange piece, about 10 or so other things

fav story of another writer:

favourite things 

manly man falls for manliest man krbk fic!!!

gently, like a winter wind iwaoi birthday fic

sunchaser krbk fic

JUNO atsuhina fic

best review:

dude i cried

and shoutout to tien , sirius for fan art, fan comics, fan animatics of fics ive written, and shoutout to akemiiiii for this song they wrote i am eternaally grateful

worst review:

no negativity today!

prequel/sequel to other people’s fics:

none at the top of my head hm, but if anything probably any of kiro skk stuff 

do i reread my stuff:

yes, but only if they’re old enough for me to go “it’s okay even if i dont like it bc this is old”

published:

hopefully! even though i do take part in zines and i guess they already have been published in a broad sense

fav/least fav chara to write:

no one at the top of my head! it’s instinctive for me to go ahead and think about character motives whenever i come across them, so if i ever write about someone, i usually just put my spin/interpretation of a character in a way that i can comprehend. the pros of this is i can write about many people, and the downside is that these characterisations can come off as out of character to anyone who doesn’t agree w me hehe

deadlines or goals:

if it’s a oneshot that’s under 3k i usually aim to have it done within 24 hours of beginning the fic. even tho i rarely succeed, having that as a goal usually pushes me to get it done faster than i would have if i had no goal altogether! if it’s anything long i aim for 1k a day, tho rn all my deadlines are zine deadlines and on top of that there’s uni, so to say im not stressing about writing would be a lie LOL

fav writers: (am too shy to tag but i swear these people are literal gods)

chonideno (mag): tumblr | twitter | ao3

batman (teesta): twitter | ao3

maplefudge (raei): tumblr | twitter | ao3

trope never written, would like to try:

aforementioned SLOWBURN MUTUAL PINING ANGST W A HAPPY ENDING GETTING TOGETHER!!!

but also royalty au

trope you will never write:

haha loads

how long have you been a writer:

began writing around may of 2014!! it was a horrible piece but im glad i started somewhere

influences:

chonideno/mag is one! maggie stiefvater who wrote the raven boys is also one, among many others

hardest part of writing: 

writing action? writing things that are happening right now, describing people talking, eating

easiest part of writing:

descriptions of people, places, feelings. internal monologues, the like

best part of writing:

sharing how i perceive the world w other people, and discovering other people agree

wip sneak peek:

cw: hanahaki, falling out of love

this was written in a friend’s dms lmao this is why i sound like this

something unique i bring to all my stories

i had a revelation the other day after talking to all my friends and realised i have really pretentious titles

IF YOU’RE HERE

did you know the wc of this thing is 1k words? idk why you stuck through all of that but thank you. i’ll keep writing in 2021, and all the years after that, and i hope i’ll find you doing things you love too :)

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life After Snowpiercer: One Problem at a Time

Summary- Curtis x Y/N. You and Curtis reunite, deal with some issues in the valley and reconnect 2 of the groups. Tension between you and Curtis. Warnings- Violence

Word Count- 5.3k

Chapter 6 / Masterlist

The firing from above was surprising, You and Johanna witnessed Wilfords old guard squad shout out in alarm and close ranks retreating. Johanna lowered the rifle, and breathed out hard enough to flip the hair that fell in her eyes back. “I dont know who it is... but they are pushing them back.” You sneak a peek out to see if you can catch sight of anyone, but thats when you hear the cry of alarm behind you, and you pull back, disappearing inside. Following your name being cried out, you see where someone got a ricochet. It had luckily lost some of its momentum, but still embedded enough to cause blood to blossom all over there shoulder and clutch at it to stop the bleeding. 

“Shit” You try to drag the man into the nearest light without making yourselves possible targets. “Shirt off... Whats your name?” You ask as you maneuver him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and start to pull it over his head. 

He grunted as you lifted the shirt over his head. “Mickey... we was trying to get the kids into the back once we heard the firing started, but not fast enough apparently.” His eyes watered a bit, but other then that, he stayed perfectly still. 

“Yea it got pretty dicey there for a bit. Does anyone have a knife?” You start hold out your hand till someone shoves a military grade blade into it and you start cutting off pieces of clothing off one of his shirts, and directing him to sit down, so you at least didnt have to go to your tip toes to dig out the shard. “Okay Mickey, Im gonna be as quick as I can, promise. Just please dont move.” 

“No worries Miss, I can handle it.” He took a deep breath and nodded in affirmation that he was ready. Lets get this done, you coached yourself, never actually having removed anything like this. Your head tilted and the tip of your tongue stuck out as you started to use the tip to wedge along one side. Mickey was true to his word and stayed still, allowing you to dig further into his flesh till THERE, the tip slid underneath and you could pop it out “Got it!” 

Wadding the piece of cloth against the seeping wound, you are careful not to touch anything as his blood was all over your hands. “Be right back, keep the pressure on it.” John stepped in to monitor him as you make your way back to Johanna who was looking through the scope up at the cliff. “Son of a bitch, hes gonna do it....” 

“Safe to go out and scrub my hands you think, and do what?” You question as you look over her shoulder, and Johanna drops the scope to look without the assistance to the top of the cliff. “This bastard, hes gonna jump down., OH HELL THERE HE GOES!” This is when you lean out and your jaw drops. 

Curtis pulled back the rifle when he thought he saw you, holding his breath, hoping for another glance, anything to confirm it was you he saw. Rolling away from the edge, and up to his feet, he paced the edge for a moment. “I gotta get down there now, do we have any rope?” He asked the person closest to him, the man shaking his head and asking another nearby. Resounding negatives sounded, and Curtis just didnt have the time to search the train cars for any. Looking over the edge, he studied the way down, noticing small juts of ice build up on what he guessed were ledges, he formed an idea. Was it crazy? Most likely, but what the fuck. Sliding the rifle strap over his shoulder, he held it out to anyone close by. “Give me an axe, Im gonna need you all to cover me while I make my way to the train car.” 

The man whom he had asked for rope earlier looked down the side as if studying what Curtis had been looking at, frowning for a moment in thought, then his eyes widened. “Man you cant.” 

Curtis didnt even pause as he hefted the axe, checking it was one with the sharper blades, and swung it around in a loop once, twice, three times to loosen his good arm. “Man I am.” 

“Thats could be a damn suicide jump. Your gonna break your legs, even with the deeper snow at the bottom, you have no clue whats down there!.” 

Curtis shifted to the edge, turning his body so that his good side holding the axe would be close to the cliff wall. “Yea well, I might not know what, but I know who is down there, and who knows when those fuckers will be back.” 

CURTIS EVERETT, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DIE, YOU AND ME BUDDY, WERE THROUGH. 

No were not, and I will be fine, trust me. 

Trust you? Fucken hell Curtis your lucky I do. 

Thats my girl. 

And it seemed like he just stepped off the edge, plunging the axe into the snow and ice on the side, it slowed him down slightly in his descent, and he was able to steer himself enough to land on the ledge he was aiming for. For all of five seconds. 

It gave out from under him “Oh shit” he exclaimed as he dropped down, trying to smash the axe head back into the side, it finally went in, but he just sped up more, bouncing off the wall once in a while, fuck his ribs. Well they are definitely broken now if they werent before, and all around him white rolls of snow started shifting, and racing down with him. Soon it was enough to be considered an avalanche, and he landed heavily at the bottom, a dumping of snow landing on top of him. 

You jumped out of the train, with Johanna leaning out trying to catch you and stop you from taking off. But you rolled out of her grip. “Y/N! Come back, its not safe!” But damn it, you werent paying attention to anything but Curtis falling down the side of the cliff. HE JUMPED! THAT BASTARD JUMPED, GOD DAMN IT CURTIS! you screamed internally as you plowed your way through snow almost to your knees, falling every now and then, and struggling to get up, the whole time your panicked mutters of “nonononono” filled a bit of the silence after the snow crashed on top of itself at the bottom. By the time you reached the cliff face, all around you was just white swirls where the snow had yet to properly settle. “Curtis! Where are you?” You yelled out, looking all around you, but nothing, just white. Unsettled wisps blowing in your face. 

“Come on baby, answer me” your voice is starting to panic as you start searching under you, for anything Curtis shaped. If hes trapped under the snow, hes going to suffocate, sobs of fear escaping, and tears brimming your vision. You plunge your arms into what looks like the deepest snowbank and dig like your life depended on it. It did, it did depend on it. Why was he so fucken stupid? Jumping off a cliff, god damn you Curtis, if you leave me alone here... Your wheezing, completely unaware he had come up behind you, and in true Curtis fashion, he grasped your hips and swung you around. Shocked, your looking up at those familiar blue eyes, adrenaline had blown his pupils wide with the rush, and he to is panting, clumps of ice and snow in his beard and his whole face is red where it had been covered in snow. For seconds your just staring at him, but then, you let him have it. 

Your fist comes against his chest in a rage, bouncing off his pecks, and your just raging at this point. “what the fucken hell Curtis, you could have DIED! You idiot! Died, dead, gone, no more, do you hear me?!” He allowed it for a bit, but then he caught your hands and drew you in as the sobs of fear broke from you, struggling in his hold and grabbing his face, that damn face you love so damn much it hurt, one you were so scared for and mad at and just beyond relieved to have back because you were hurting all over and wanted to sink into his arms and be told that it was gonna be okay, that damn face. You crashed your lips against his, kissing him fiercly and possessively, only breaking apart when the loss of air burned your lungs and your head swam with dizziness. 

“Dont you ever do something like that again! God your such an Idiot, I love you” your forehead leaning against his, and his eyes looked in yours and you could see that he would again without question, and before he could say that, you nip his lip softly to keep him quiet and roam your hands over his chest and pull back. You werent allowed to go to far, as he yanked you back  in, his own hands searching you for anything out of the norm, cupping your face and placing a softer, but no less desired kiss on your lips “I wasnt going to leave you down here baby, I thought Ive lost you endless times over the past few days. I knew I saw you. I had to get down here. Especially with those fuckers coming for you.” 

Your hands slide into his coat, and that familiar warmth starts to seep into your burning cold fingertips and his oversized hands wipe your face dry, kissing across the cheeks and your nose to calm you down, leaning his forehead once more against yours. “You couldnt ask me to leave my girl here and not to to get to you, right?” And with that, your anger dissipates much like the remaining snow crystals in the air that swirl near you, your combined heat melting them away. Relief floods you and you sigh, leaning into him, God I need you so damn much. His arms enclose you and for the first time in days your okay. 

“All of it, they said they were just toying with you the entire time.” You breath out and pull back enough to look at him. “Did you get all the way there? I assumed so once the train derailed.” 

Curtis was going to have to tell her all that happened, and that was the big news about her brother, in that he was dreading. Not that her brother was alive, but what they twisted the man into. He nodded, and decided it would have to be later, once they were safely settled, could he break the news to her then. “Yes, we lost good people.... but they got me to the front, got me to Wilford. Come on, we have to get out of sight. I have a few people up top to cover us.” You didnt inquire anymore at the moment, following along in his footsteps as best as possible, your hand still fisted in his, loathe to let it go. You could easily see he was hurting, the way he took jagged steps. But you woudnt know more till he would really let you look him over No guns had to be fired, and maybe there luck was turning around. 

Johanna had the gun trained on Curtis till You stepped around him and waved your hand that it was okay, and she pulled back. As you two approached, Curtis climbed inside and held out his hand, greeting her with a thanks. “Damn glad Y/N had you with her Johanna.” She nodded her your welcome and turned to you. 

“If your planning on moving anyone, theres a couple who are beat up pretty bad. Your friend Sara is definitely suffering from blood loss, and we got to relocate a few shoulders.” Hearing the women discuss the injuries, Curtis was relieved it wasnt anything worst. But as he caught sight of the survivors, he knew why. There must be more casualties then survivors. They were a weary bunch, the kids all huddled together, sleeping or whispering to themselves, adults wandering back and forth unable to relax, some leaning back against the wall, holding there arm or shoulder from where it came out of joint in the fall. “Has anyone been able to go through the cars?” Curtis asked as you came up beside him. 

“No, once we landed, I got the kids to gather supplies, and then the guards tried to collect us. We bolted right out and headed to the cliff face. Others followed us. Paul told me that his cart had usable food in it and thats as far as we've been able to plan ahead." John came up to join them, listening in and introducing himself to Curtis.

"Probably would have either went into the other cars today, see if anyone survived the night or tried to find a way up. These are all the back end cars.... Short of the protein blocks, no other usable supplies. Old threadbare blankets, maybe some clothing." John mentioned, leaving Curtis nodding in agreement. He was right, all the usable supplies were in the front, they went through several freezer carts of beef and chicken, a garden cart, a bit of live stock in another, even an oversized tank that might still have usable food in it, he was sure once the train derailed any heating system went off, and it might all be frozen solid. And then not even mentioning supplies such as medicine and other goods. As Wilford mentioned before, it was an entire enclosed ecosystem. One that Curtis ripped wide open now.

"Theres a group up there waiting for us... The last of the tail enders and a few others, simple fact is we gotta move everyone up. Safer for us to be in a group then spread out, especially with Wilfords old buddies.” Curtis said that last part sarcastically, and you glanced at Curtis. 

“Well we cant climb up the way you came down, especially with people like Sara. Someones got to find a trail if there are any” 

So it was decided a couple would go look along the cliff face, see if there was a reasonable way up, John volunteered along with another man. They bundled up as best they could, blankets draped over there shoulders and they warily started along the trail you and Curtis made earlier. Now onto the next issue, You knew you should have taken care of the out of joint patients, more things like clothing was needed, some of these people were shivering with blue lips and fingertips. Fuck what a disaster. All of it. A hand came to your back and Curtis slipped up behind you as you watched the two men continue down your trail. You leaned back into his chest, and closed your eyes for a minute. Letting everything just go still inside you, just having him back eased you a bit. 

“We will be okay babygirl, get them all up and continue on our way.” His fingers brushed aside your hair laying against your neck and he dipped his head to kiss the curve, his lips soft brushes along the length. You enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, familiar and warming. But then enclosed when his hand moved to settle on your stomach and hold you in close, your breathing hitches. Why? Whats wrong? And you fight out of the haze clouding your mind, and pushing his hand back and away, turning to face Curtis. “We probably better get to those patients. Help me with them?” You brush past him and head into the back, frowning at yourself for how you just reacted, knowing exactly what it was, but admitting it was an entirely different story.

Curtis was surprised when you pulled away, about to stop you and ask what that was, but it had been hell for the past few days, so it would be understandable if you werent yourself. Following along with you, you were talking to Sara, who Curtis vaguely recognized from the back end. Lifting the rag she had used to keep pressed against her shoulder. “Im sorry I didnt get this out sooner Sara, but I got to now.” Another mistake, you think to yourself. There is a bit of redness and streaks blooming around it. Fuck why didnt you take care of this last night. With the way she was shot, you were sure there might be more then just a slug embedded in there. “Come on, lets go in the light.” You two go forward and as you pass Curtis, you encourage her to continue where Johanna was perched in the doorway, watching. 

“Curtis we definitely need more clothing, something for at least the kids to wrap up in. They will freeze with what they have now out there.” Your almost reach out to touch him, then pull back, stuffing your hands in your sleeves instead. 

“Yup, we will get it. Work on Sara and the others, we will be back soon.” He didnt push to touch you or share affection, but you tugged him back and placed a speedily kiss on his lips last minute. A ‘im sorry’ for earlier for yourself, he flashed you look that spoke volumes, then spun away and his voice boomed “Listen up, you... you... and you, were gonna be hitting up some of these cars... you....” Walking away, you felt more in control now, hearing him take control and having a plan in place. Sara was sitting with Johanna, looking exhausted, but holding a conversation. 

Withdrawing the knife you used earlier, you have Sara sit in the light, Johanna lowers back to her earlier spot, the rifle hanging out the door to keep watch. Bringing her shirt down enough to take a look at the wound, you sigh. “Like with Mickey, this is gonna hurt like a bitch. And I gotta make sure nothing is left in there.” Sara nodded and once more you dug for the bullet. Sara hunched a bit and did her best to stay still, a gasp escaping once in a while, but overall when she slouched forward into Johanna, you knew she passed out. Good, make this easier. 

“Sorry, let me just finish this and we can move her” You state and Johanna nods, moving to cradle the woman while you hear a plink! to the bullet falling out, and a few more pokes and prods, the blood seeping down, hesitant but hopeful that will finish cleaning the wound. “Okay, think shes good.” You use the rag she was earlier to put pressure on it and once it seemed to stop bleeding so much, you two move her, already Sara was stirring much to your satisfaction. “Just hang out here a bit, m’kay?” A nod and wince as she puts the rag back to be sure it wouldnt start bleeding. 

Then you went through the rest, relocating joints, checking nicks and cuts. A few people you found out had busted ribs, one had a arm that should be put in a splint, but there simply was no way to do so. “Just... keep it close to your body and dont move it. It will heal, in time.” Putting together a make shift sling with a shirt someone volunteered. Just as you were finishing up, Curtis and a few others returned, arms bundled in clothing, and as you two dispersed them among people, and bundling the kids up, you quietly ask him. 

“Was there alot.... of people... ?” 

“Yea baby, more then I thought there would be. Some of them, its hard to tell if it was before or after the crash.” He passed off a jacket to someone and looked at you. “Then there were others that just.... Its a lot.” 

You didnt push him, ask where he was going with that sentence, you had an idea of what it meant, and you didnt even want to have him have to explain his choice. People dont always survive. 

He continued, handing off the last item, and turning to you. “We only went through a few, but we cant wait any longer. And I found where those guards were hanging out, They have been collecting supplies in the further cars, as much as could be had” 

You swallow a bit, and keep yourself busy with the thought of them. “Where are they now?” 

“I dont know, they wandered away from the cars at some point. Im assuming they didnt have a aim on them up above and they werent coming back around to us.” Curtis shook his head as they started getting people up, moving them forward. “But if they do... “ Curtis rumbled softly under his breath. You pause and rest your hand against his back, inside dreading the coming conversation. He was already so on edge to them being out there. Johanna called then to you two, and John ducked back inside. “Well we found what looks like an animal trail. Goes right up along the side, and looks like its well used. Do you think... theres really something alive out there?” 

A shrug and nod from you “Were still alive, right? We can only guess as to what survived after the freeze.” 

It was painfully slow, John and Adam, as you come to find out what the other mans name was, led the group, you stayed with the kids, and helped Sara as much as she was able to stand, behind you were more of the adults, including Curtis and Johanna who were making sure no one fell behind. When you finally crested the top, you stepped off to the side, huffing with exertion, the people who had remained at the top cars were helping others inside or near some fires they all were able to start, clearly they had been busy while you all were coming up out of the valley. Curtis came up beside you, a groan of his own as his hand pressed against his left side. “Lets get inside babes, then we can take a break. We all need one.” 

Sara was collected and helped to where the other people were recovering, and Tam rushed up to the two of you once you entered the car “Hey, I got the kids, Edgar is sitting up already, and his back is looking much better.” You look confused for a moment, and Curtis shakes his head at you. “I will explain later. Thanks Tam, if everyones set, were going to go settle in somewhere for the night.” Assured that everything would be handled, Curtis led you away, these were similar to the tail end car, just with windows. Curtis was quick to find you two a empty bottom bunk. You crawled in first, and leaned against the wall, your head tipping back. Fuck you were so tired, and he semi collapsed next to you in a similar fashion. 

You turn just your head to look at him, and smile when you see hes doing the same thing. There hadnt been any chance to really just be with one another since reuniting and you reach your hand out, weaving your fingers with his. “Hey.... Thank you for keeping your promise and coming back to me.” 

He sat up a bit more and let go of your hand, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close, placing a kiss to your forehead, whispering. “Im sorry for leaving you like that babygirl. All I could think of was keeping you safe.” You put your hand against his mouth. 

“Handsome its fine, I know why you did it. Tell me what happened.” You inquired, and Curtis fell into how he pushed the group through each car, the ones they found that was possible to find supplies and food in for them, how the bridge claimed so many of them, one of whom he thought was Edgar, but that wasnt the case. How Nam wanted to blow open the side, jump from the train when he wouldnt open that final door, and this is where he stalled. He had to tell her. All of it. Her brother, his arm... he managed to keep it hidden this whole time, the pain a background noise at this point. 

“Babygirl come here, I just... need to hold you. I really thought I lost you.” He hauled you into his lap, and you tensed up momentarily when his arm circled around you, rubbing your lower back and side. But this was Curtis, you were safe. Under his hand you finally relaxed, and your head rested on his shoulder, he started in on the next part of his story. The rumble of his chest lulled you, while you listened. Wilford offered a deal, and Curtis admitted that he considered it. You lifted your head and looked at him. “You wouldnt have been able to live with yourself” He nodded, and leaned forward to kiss your lips softly. “Your right, I would have become everything I hated. Baby, this next part, you got to listen to me. Okay? the whole part before any questions.” 

“Curtis what is it?” Your brow furrows with concern at his words. 

“Matt, your brother... Hes alive, and he still is. I left him back at the front.” 

Your silent for a moment, and he could see your mind racing, processing his words. 

“Hes still alive... Matts still here.” And the joy that crossed your face broke Curtis heart because fuck he was going to have to tell you just how far gone he was, that there wasnt the compassionate little boy anymore. But a man with cold resolve and placed himself above the others, for he was the prodigy.  

“Baby, he isnt who you think he is, not anymore.” Curtis hands captured your face to make you pay attention to him. “Wilford trained him to be his successor, brainwashed. He has no compassion for any of the people, were something to control.”

“What? No Curtis, he loved us, He wouldnt forget, unless he thinks I let him go.” Your thoughts are spinning out of control, just what Curtis didnt want. You pull back from him then “He cant be that bad, I mean, Once I explain all that was going on, he will see.” A saddened look crossed Curtis face, reaching out to draw you back to him. 

“Baby we can try... but they were using our kids to run the train, put them right into the engine, and afterwards... Executed if they served no more purpose. Under his order, he was set on killing Yona, Nam and I if I didnt agree to there terms.” He couldnt even bring up the way your brother talked about you, the callousness of his words in discussing you, whom loved him more then yourself. 

“No... he wouldnt have been okay with it.” Your breathing grows more rapid and Curtis rubs your arms to comfort you. 

“I know baby, Im sorry... “ He was doing everything he could to calm you, but it was only setting you off worst. Again you pulled away from him, drawing your legs up and hugging around your knees, what are you not telling him? The only time you pulled away was the weeks after Matt was taken and you withdrew into yourself. “Y/N? Talk to me please?” He wants to reach for you, but you’ve just drawn yourself off, quiet as you stare ahead. 

Matt wouldnt, Curtis must have misunderstood what happened. He did what he had to to survive, the conclusions you drew. “You said hes still alive? You had to leave him behind, is he safe?” 

His hand dropped to his lap, studying you even as you waited for an answer. “He was safe when I left him and Claude. I was told you went over a damn cliff, I honestly had no other concerns.” His tone slightly clipped, and you can see where hes holding it together under a great strain. You unfold yourself, and return into his hold, feeling him once more relax being able to rest his hand on you. 

“They had Timmy, in the engine. Whatever they did to him, he was so unhuman acting. Robotic, he wouldnt come out once Nam and I secured the room.” He shifted you and this is the first time you see the tangled mess of his arm when he slid his sleeve up, deep laceration that have scabbed over criss crossing where the gears tore in, but they were still great tears, all of it swollen, and throbbing looking. “Fucken hell Curtis” You cuss as you finish rolling his sleeve up to look at it. “Youve been like this the whole time? Baby you need medicine in case of infection.” So tenderly you inspected it, you seemed more like yourself now, your mind distracted. 

Curtis remained still as you went to roll the sleeve back down, and was gnawing on your bottom lip. “God damn handsome, im so sorry.” Your hands went to his face, feeling for any kind of fever, and giving a small smile when he turned into your palm and nipped the center, kissing your fingertips before letting his head once more fall back against the wall. “You seem to not be fighting off an infection though. But I will feel better once we can secure some stuff from the medic car.” You shift to his other side so you dont risk touching his arm, rubbing your hand along the back of his neck. For now you both go quiet, just being together. This time his hand slides along the inside of your thigh, just resting warmly there. You can feel yourself drifting off, and finally he says softly. 

“We should get some sleep” He shifted off the wall, and laid down for the first time in days, waiting with a lifted arm for you to do as you always do, curl in against his chest. Which you did, you always did, and stretching out, scooting over till his arm rested over your hip, he tugged you in the rest of the way. His body is hard against your back, and his beard scratches lightly behind your neck as he placed kisses there. Nothing sexual, just a bit of intimacy after such a long time apart. You cant help but tense up, which he notices when you dont sink into him, how your breathing doesnt soften after a few minutes, and he wants to ask you, make you spill whatever it is your holding inside. But he doesnt, he just stays by your side, his hand moving to slide under your shirts and gently let it rest against the softness of your stomach. Wide awake until finally he hears you release a soft snore, a true testament to your exhaustion. 

You laid there, your fingers curled into the ticking of the blanket your laying on, your heart a quick flash patter, escape escape escape, this was fucking CURTIS. How could you feel that hot heat of panic flushing your body or that your throat was squeezing air through a straw. You waited, waited for him to tighten his arm around you as he usually did or sprawl you across his chest when he rolled to his back, but he stayed still behind you, and the tension between you two just built. I should tell him, but how can I? For whatever reason, it shamed you that you couldnt fight them off. Finally his fingers just splayed against your stomach where he worked his hand under your shirts and loosely held you. After a while, you couldnt help it anymore, falling asleep. Fuck those men for doing this to you. 

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