#writing this has been an Experience. a very fun one!

[it-lives-within-the-dark]

Look, I'm not a Sebaciel shipper. I'm not an anti, but I just read the manga and enjoy what's going on without reading too much into it (I'm also old and come from a time where the master word was "ship and let ship"). And I can tell you, the antis are fucking annoying (it was not that bad in the beginning of the manga/and then anime.... I daresay it was almost non-existent, Sebaciel was almost a given at the time). They're the ones spamming the tags with their hate when I just want to look at fanarts, gifs, edits, analysis, etc.... I swear, I see the Sebaciel posts and it's (most of the time) not those posts written in big font about how a part of the fandoms is crazy or should die or whatever else (and those hate posts can be several times a day, it's exhausting). I could have send it to an anti but they would have dismissed this message as a Sebaciel sending them hate or something and hurled more insults and I'm not in the habit of talking to walls. Anyway, you guys are chills and I'm going to finally blacklist the anti tag, never thought I would see the day.

Hey Nonny!

I agree, it's horrible what fandom spaces have turned into. I gotta say, when I fist saw the notification for an anon ask, my first instinct was that I had finally annoyed the wrong person and gotten my first anon hate message. How happy I was to be proven wrong, but I'm also sad because that is what the current state of fandom has done to us.

I've been in fandom for a long, long time; I grew up reading and writing fanfic in the don't like don't read/no flames/ship and let ship era. However, this is really my first time being an active participant in a fandom community and it sure is...something. But that being said, I also sort of get it. Because I too very nearly fell down into that moral purity cesspool about 10 years ago. It's so easy to fall into when that's what you've either intentionally or unintentionally surrounded yourself with. I was lucky to notice before I got too deeply entrenched in it and stopped looking at that kind of content.

The antis would say differently, but I don't care how someone reads/interprets Sebastian and Ciel's (canon) relationship as long as they have evidence to back up their claims; literature is subjective but that doesn't mean you get to say whatever interpretation you want and have it be valid. (Fanfic is another thing entirely - do whatever the hell you want with them and have fun).

Anyway, all this to say: good for you, Nonny, in taking the appropriate steps to curate your online fandom experiences. Life is too short to purposefully expose yourself to things that upset you or make you angry. I think more people could stand to follow your example.

[amourtoken]

Good morning!

it's finally time for me to elaborate on the beloved sleep paralysis demon iii post.

I don't typically write structured fic so I apologize if this rambles too much I'm not a big fan but wanted to get the thoughts out lol

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: dubcon (I wouldn't say noncon entirely, however if non specific consent bothers you pls be careful this is definitely a rough pairing), forced breeding, ig you could consider this somno and/or bondage to a degree, condescending ass iii, threatening/toxic behavior, creepy iii (ofc he's literally inhuman), borderline stalking? He's a demon feeding off your energy so take that as you wish. Tentacles if you squint, oral (f receiving)

♡ god lmao this has been itching at the back of my mind for weeks bc I myself go thru sleep paralysis pretty often and I'd do anything for some fun hallucinations rather than the weird ones I tend to experience 💀

♡ anyway

♡ you'd been having trouble sleeping recently, always tossing and turning and never being able to fall very deeply under. It's starting to really effect your day to day and you can't seem to concentrate on anything cause you're so fucking tired all the time. You can't help but notice this all started shortly after some paranormal instances in your apartment. Since then, you swore someone was staring at you every time you laid down. Strange.

♡ once the weekend hit you swore you were gonna try and catch up on sleep to start the next week off better. You even went to bed early, how convenient for him.

♡ iii had taken a liking to you. Typically he'd look for any random host to leech off of for a while and leave when things went too far (ex: accidentally leaving past hosts in comatose states with no explanation), but with you he couldn't help but want to drag it out. You always went to bed in the cutest outfits and he got off on the fact you had no fucking clue he was watching.

♡ that feeling of someone watching you was because he absolutely was. If you weren't asleep, he was concealing himself so he could watch you. His eyes followed your hands as they tugged the waistband of your pants down, bending over just enough to give him a pretty view as you stripped down for bed. He was gonna have so much fun with you tonight.

♡ he impatiently waited for you to finish your night time routine, pacing your bedroom unbeknownst to you the entire time. It was a little chilly in there, maybe you forgot the a/c was on? (Or a literal inhuman being was feet away from you, but who's first guess is that?)

♡ once you finally fell asleep, he jumped to his plan. God he'd been waiting so long for this, he wished he could just reveal himself to you and have it be mutual but he knew it wouldn't be a positive experience for you, so this would have to do for now. Maybe you'd enjoy yourself, maybe you'd wanna do it again?

♡ iii quietly crossed over to you, eyes drinking you in. He'd seen you naked before but this time would definitely be different. You looked so peaceful he almost felt bad...not that it would stop him, he's just taking mental notes. His cold hands met the skin just under the hem of your shirt, sliding up to your sternum and splaying across your stomach. God you were so warm...you squirmed uncomfortably at the sensation but didn't wake up, his presence caused a prickling pins and needles sensation to spread across your skin.

♡ iii continues, sliding his hands from your stomach down to your hips, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and tugging them off. He ran his hands back up your thighs, sighing heavily squeezing at your plush hips. You were so soft to him, unattainable. Which is why he felt the need to make himself known this way, you'd never agree otherwise (or would you?)

♡ he settled himself at the end of your bed, arms hooking around your thighs as he tugged you forward to rest your legs on his shoulders. This motion unfortunately was a little too eager, waking you up much earlier than he planned. Unfortunately for you, your eyes being open was about all you could manage. Your body felt so fucking heavy and your brain felt foggy, pins and needles pricked across your skin as your heart rate kicked up. The sight of iii between your legs sent you into near hysterics, hyperventilating pathetically as you tried your best to move anything but couldn't.

♡ "I'm sorry. I hope you understand I had to keep you under a bit. It's for your own good." He breathed against your skin, his hands felt so cold against your contrasting warmth. Was any of this real? Surely it couldn't be.

♡ it definitely felt real when he buried his face in your pussy.

♡ iii had a whole speech planned but like the rest of the night, his plans went out the window. He needed to feel you, to taste you right now. It was definitely abrupt but fuck you were just so sweet he couldn't help it. His arms squeezed your thighs tightly and held you closely to his face. His tongue felt pretty normal at first aside from being ice cold but that quickly changed when you realized just how long it was.

♡ the stretch of having well over a foot's length of cryptid tongue buried in your pussy was definitely new, and he was enjoying himself as much as possible. A hand left your thigh to press on your stomach, feeling the writhing of his tongue through your skin as he filled you entirely. You made his head spin and all you were doing was laying there, the other hand that had been on your thigh shifted to rub tight circles on your clit as he fucked into you with his tongue.

♡ you tried your best to squirm and make noises of protest but at best all that came out was a strangled whine which made iii smile against your pussy. He could feel you squeezing against his tongue and he tried his best to fuck himself deeper into you. The pricking sensation in your body concentrated right in your stomach as he drug you through your first orgasm. All you could do was lay there and let the sensation wash over your body, eyes rolling back while his fingers slowed their motion against your clit.

♡ iii sat back, retracting his tongue and leaving you feeling impossibly empty. He admired the slick mess he made between your legs before tugging his pants down just enough to free his length. Everything about him was fucking massive no wonder his cock was the same. He leaned over you and buried his face against your neck, pressing messy kisses all over your throat and collar while his hands explored your upper body. His cold fingers brushed your nipples and pulled a pathetic whine from you. He made a point to pinch and tease at your nipples with one hand while the other traced circles on your clit with the head of his cock.

♡ normally you could at least close your legs or squirm away from the overstimulation but his presence had you locked in and still. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you felt yet another orgasm creeping through your body like an electric current. iii leaned back just to toss your legs over his shoulders and fold you into a mating press with a dramatic huff. Your eyes widened in surprise at the action before rolling back in your head as he slammed into you in a single motion.

♡ fuck he was big, every thrust made the messiest slick sound and drew deep groans from his chest. "Fuck, this pretty pussy grips my fuckin cock so good...why did I wait so fuckin long to have you-" he drew out almost entirely before hilting himself again, bullying your poor cervix and creating a visible bulge in your belly.

♡ he fucked into you like he literally wanted to split you in half. He was panting pathetically against your ear while gripping your hips tight to keep you steady. the drag of his cock against your walls was pulling you ever closer to a third orgasm and you swore you couldn't handle it but that wouldn't put a dent in his harsh rhythm. Feeling you pulse around his cock actually only aided in making it worse.

♡ his hips stuttered slightly, making him dig his nails into your soft skin to try and steady himself. "Fuck- gonna fill you up- gonna look so pretty full of my kids, yeah? G-gonna breed you so good-" he was really struggling to keep pace, he didn't wanna cum yet, he wanted to spend more time with you :((

♡ unfortunately, one sloppy thrust later it threw you both over the edge. You falling first only served to pull him down with you and he moaned harshly against your neck, the sound breaking into a whimper as he kept fucking his cum into you. If you could be, you'd be trembling and begging him to stop cause you couldn't take much more. So overly sensitive from his other actions.

♡ he only pulled out when he literally couldn't take it anymore, twitching profusely at the overstimulating feeling. iii sat back on his heels in front of you, admiring the mess he'd made you into. How were you going to explain the littered fingerprint shaped bruises across your hips or the insane dark hickeys across your neck and chest to anyone? No one else would believe you, but nonetheless you were branded just for him. He'd love a round 2, but knew he had to let you out of your stasis eventually.

♡ regrettably, he slid off your bed and disappeared. Not before pressing a cold kiss to your forehead. Once he was out of view, you gasped as feeling slowly returned to your now aching limbs. Did any of that really just happen?

[arthropod-concoctions]

Uprooted: chapter 13 (finale)

(AO3 - ch 1 - ch 12 (make sure you've read it!))

Scott awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling and the smell of blood. He quickly sat up to get his bearings, but there wasn't any fighting going on; he seemed to be in some kind of hospital room. He was in a bed, next to similar ones with various bodies on them. He recognized Grian laying on one a bit away; there was a bloody stump where his right leg should be. Scar was sitting on the bed, watching him, but he looked up and smiled at Scott.

“There he is, our hero! How are you feeling?” Scar asked, as he moved from Grian's bed to Scott's.

“I'm fine,” Scott replied. If he still had injuries, he couldn't feel them. “I don't think I am much of a hero, honestly. I found the king, but then I freaked out and ran away.” And promptly got killed, apparently.

“Ah, but in doing so, you led him right to us!” Scar said jovially. He had bandaging around his arm and shoulder, but didn't seem to have been seriously injured. “You'll be happy to know we managed to drive the king out of the castle, and we killed his right hand Martyn and threw the body into prison. We're the heroes of Troren, you included!”

Scott shrugged. He didn't really care who got the glory, right now he just wanted to see his husband. He opened his mouth to ask where Jimmy was, but Scar spoke up again: “You know, apparently some of the old Troren soldiers got absorbed into the Red Army, and they had also been planning a revolt. That's why everyone started fighting each other all of a sudden.”

“Okay. Where's Jimmy?” Scott asked.

Scar looked away, and his smile faded. He didn't answer.

“Scar?” Scott said, but a sinking feeling in his chest told him that he already knew the answer.

“He- the mission wasn't casualty-free, and Jimmy... he was among them, I'm afraid. I'm very sorry, Scott.”

“No,” Scott whispered. Jimmy can't have died again. Hasn't he had enough bad luck?

Scar sighed. “Come with me, won't you?”

Scott stood up. “Shouldn't you stay with Grian?” he heard himself say.

“I'm not sure he'll even want to see me when he wakes up, honestly.” Scar lead Scott out of one medicine room to the door of another. There was a sign hanging next to the door; it read 'final bodies'.

Scott stepped inside, and immediately recognized Jimmy's form lying on a sheet on the floor. He seemed smaller, somehow, like pieces of him had already faded away. Scott clamped his hand to his mouth. Jimmy's face was facing away from him; he knew seeing it would make him feel worse, but he had to do so anyways. He stepped forwards.

Jimmy's eyes were closed; it almost looked like he was sleeping, or pretending to sleep, like he'd done so often lately. Scott knelt down and opened one eye, then the other.

They weren't red anymore, nor were they green. His true eye colours, blue and brown, had seeped from the edges of his irises to fill them up completely. There were tiny specks in his brown eye.

They looked beautiful. Why did his dead eyes have to look beautiful?

Scott laid his head on Jimmy's chest, and sobbed.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but eventually he heard footsteps, and the sound of wood knocking against the floor, coming into the room.

“I'm so sorry for your loss, Scott,” Grian said.

Scott lifted his head up. He tried to say something in response, but “hah” was all that came out.

Grian crouched next to him-- as much as that was possible with the lower half of his right leg missing-- and laid a hand on his shoulder.

For a while they sat next to Jimmy's corpse in silence. Then Grian spoke up: “You know, me and Scar had a deal.”

“A long time ago, I owed Scar a favor- a lot of favors, actually. So I told him that as long as I was green-lived, I'd go along with whatever plans he made. That's why I joined the Red Desert; the agreement didn't end when he died, so I essentially became a red-lived by proxy. I'm Yellow now, which means I don't owe Scar anything anymore- but I can't imagine leaving him behind. I feel like I'd be lost without him. And if he died...”

Scott let out another sob.

“All this to say, I understand what you're going through. Well, I don't, but I understand how awful it must be.”

“You and Scar could move into Troren,” Scott said numbly.

Grian hesitated. “I don't think we can,” he responded. “They have strict laws against Reds, the princes made that very clear during-”

“Cleo said they'd make an exception,” Scott said, turning to face Grian. His glasses were off, so Scott could see his yellow eyes. “For the people in the mission. For Reds that could behave themselves, or had a non-Red keeping them in check.”

Grian hummed. “I don't know if that applies to us, honestly. By the rules of our agreement, I can't stop Scar from hurting people.”

“But the agreement is over. You're Yellow now.”

“I think we've passed the point of no return. Both Scar and I, we can't go back to regular society at this point. Plus, the Desert still has some unfinished business. This war is far from over.”

Scott sighed. He wasn't sure why he even told Grian this; he was right. Even if he still wasn't Red, he could not imagine Grian living a normal life among Greens and Yellows, especially if Scar was involved.

Maybe he just didn't want prince Cleo's offer to go to waste. Sure, he could move to Troren on his own, but to do what? Make dye and miss his husband? Live his days as a widower in a foreign land? He didn't think he could handle rebuilding if Jimmy wasn't by his side. He'd been uprooted over and over, and now there weren't any roots left. Only thorns.

“You're taking the war eastwards, then?” he asked Grian.

“Yep. We might have crippled Sanguacanis a little bit and scared them out of Troren, but they'll recover. And then they'll come back with a vengeance.”

“...You think you could use another bowman?”

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[sea-buns]

Holy fuck, man. What a trip Fearne has been on, huh?

You tell her how grateful you are to have her in your life, you flatter her, you tell her you need her, that you have to do this together. You have her make a promise that has this woman, born of chaos and fey, agreeing through shaking hands and a trembling voice.

You make her deceive your friends; you make her follow where they cannot know; you make her help you into this contraption; you make her feed this thing into you despite the fact that you both have been warned extensively of the risks. You make her watch you crumble and splinter and shatter and fracture and burst and implode. You make her watch you die, over and over and over and over, for a minute in agonizing bullet time.

You make her do all these things, because when she tries to back out, when she tries to not be the one who let you do this—how could you do this—

you tell her, "YOU PROMISED."

Because if there's one thing you know, it's that the fey do not break a promise.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I am a new reader of your blog, and that is something I want to know (but it's totally okay if you want to ignore this ask!) why you stopped liking [with you]? Is there something in particular that bothered you about this fic?

That... is a question with a loaded answer.

The quick answer is:

I put way too much pressure on myself with [with you] that caused terrible burnout and I couldn't do any creative writing for a long time after; a small portion of my readers were pretty hostile about slow updates; there were criticisms about the story that I had a hard time with; and there are a lot of story beats and writing decisions I made with it that I'm very critical of. All of those things combined, I now have a lot of negative feelings associated with [with you].

The not-so-quick answer involves a lot of self-criticism about my prose, poor choices, the criticisms by my readers, and some behind the scenes stuff. I'll put all that under a "keep reading" for anyone interested in more detail.

When I started [with you], it wasn't meant to be a 50k+ story, it was just going to be a simpler story told in a couple parts... that I then kept expanding. I'm pretty sure every note I have on the original version posted on here starts with, "hey y'all, this story is this many parts now whoops haha"

I had very little planned out, I was just discovery writing my way through everything. I wrote a chapter, read through it a couple times, said, "yeah that's good enough," then posted. Y'know, like what a lot of people who write fics do. "no beta, we die like Ben falling down the bell tower" and all that.

I had ideas of where I wanted to go, but I didn't start an outline until I was well into the story. It was bloated. I felt like I needed to add every single idea I had, and needed to expand on every character, even if it didn't do anything to advance or enhance the story... and that became overwhelming for me to keep track of since I wanted it to all tie together in the end and please my readers.

When I read through it now, there is so much that can be cut that no one would miss. It would flow better and be easier to read.

My prose [the actual writing style] is all over the place and reads like a first draft, especially in earlier chapters. Spelling errors, run-on sentences, whole paragraphs that I should've cut. While I feel better about my dialogue, there are some conversations that read as awkward.

Honestly, the best part of the entire fic is Clementine and Louis' story, which... yeah. I'm pretty happy with the way I portrayed their dynamic, dialogue, and romance. I just wish I hadn't bogged it all down with everything else, like... that's all it needed to be, it just needed to be about clouis.

Oh, and I still like the dream sequence. That's probably one of the better chapters, if not the best chapter.

Now, when I say I made bad choices with this story, one of those choices I'm referring to is my "big rewrite." This was incredibly stupid. Past CJ thought it was a good idea but she's a dumb ass. You can't listen to anything she says.

Basically, I got the brilliant idea that I would take [with you] down and rewrite the whole thing before I wrote the final chapters. I wasn't satisfied with how it was written. I felt I could do so much better. I was going to trim unnecessary fat, expand on important details, make some heavy changes, improve everything, and then repost it with the ending.... so I deleted it off AO3 and got to work.

Terrible idea. Don't ask me why. What I should've done was discontinued that version, made a note that it was old, and then published the new version separately. But I didn't. And a lot of people were pissed at me. Shocking.

I should've just finished it. I should've finished it, posted it, and then went from there. But I didn't. Ever since then I've gotten a lot of readers who would go on anon and send me messages about [with you] that are passive aggressive or guilt trippy. That soured my feelings about the story and myself as a writer tremendously.

Then there's Violet.

I wrote the first few chapters before Ep4 of TFS was released, meaning I wrote Violet before we found out that she's blinded in the explosion in her kidnapped route. I took the "Violet despises you" route, and a big plot point of the story is Violet dealing with all these conflicting feelings about Clementine, hating her but also not, distancing herself from the group, the strain it put on her and Louis' friendship, etc.

I don't like how I portrayed Violet for a number of reasons. I know what I was trying to do, and I knew I couldn't [or wouldn't] scrap everything I already wrote about her and rewrite in a blind Violet on friendly terms with Clementine... because sure, I wanted to do this grand rewrite that sounded easy enough on paper, but in practice that was so much work that intimidated me.

Because behind the scenes fun- for the rewrite, I wanted to do that. That was a major change that would've cut so much from the story I wasn't happy with, and would've been a more positive portrayal of the character. But then I saw just how much would be cut and how much I'd have to write and it scared me off from the idea... so I tried to work with what I had and I still hate it.

Violet's very antagonistic in the story. She attacked Clementine after the boat explosion. Everyone thinks she'll attack her again. Mitch calls her a traitorous bitch and doesn't trust her to not stab Clementine in a conversation. There's even a point where it's mentioned that in the past she slapped Louis during a conversation. She just has a pissy attitude throughout the story but then berates herself for it and I just... I was going for a slow burn recovery that explores her trauma and ends with her reconciling with Clementine... but it doesn't come off that way? Some parts I think I executed better than others but most of it I look back at and say, "...No, past CJ, that doesn't read like you think it does...."

But that wasn't my only criticism I got about the way I wrote Violet, and this one is... a little complicated? And something most probably wouldn't take issue with or even notice unless you're a major Violet stan... but I pretty much gave Mitch [a character I loved at the time] a lot of Violet's canon character points and explored them more positively, then turned around and made Violet more antagonistic, which......yeeeeeah.

The only defense I have for this is it wasn't intentional. It really wasn't, but I understand and think it's a valid complaint. Like... I used to get these anons who would tell me this and I'd quietly delete them because, "...nope, not touching that. If I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist."

Lemme explain: In my fics, Mitch is gay. He had feelings for his best friend and roommate, Justin, before he died to walkers, and Mitch hasn't trusted "gross feelings" ever since... until James shows up and Mitch has to face the fact that he has romantic feelings for him while not being completely over Justin...

...y'know, totally different from Violet who is gay, had feelings for Minerva before she "died," and hasn't trusted mushy feelings ever since... until Clementine shows up and Violet has to face the fact that she has romantic feelings for her while not being completely over Minerva....

It's surface level stuff since they are written differently, and it's not like you're not allowed to have more than one character with character beats like that, but it's enough of a similarity that I get why it would rub Violet lovers the wrong way. Especially since nothing about that is canon with Mitch's character, y'know? It's the character I gave him.

I don't think it was coming from the Violet crowd [the aggressively obnoxious fans no one likes], I think it came from people who were genuinely bummed or put off by my more antagonistic portrayal of her, only to see similar traits portrayed positively with Mitch.

And that bothers me. I do like the way I wrote Mitch, but I hate the way I wrote Violet. It's made me step back and analyze why I wrote them the way I did, y'know?

But the BIGGEST criticism from readers I've gotten?

[with you] is unfinished.... valid, but there isn't anything I can add that. Sorry y'all, it's discontinued, I'm never going to finish it.

The best I can give you is what I planned: a big wedding scene where Clementine and Louis exchanged vows and kissed. Violet showed up and made amends with Clementine. Clementine talked Mitch into dancing with her even though he hates dancing. Aasim tried to ask Ruby to dance, panicked, and asked Mitch instead who was like "...Fuck no, RUBY COME DANCE WITH AASIM!" Louis and Clementine left early to head back to their room and it probably would've ended with some sappy line about being together to the end.

So... there ya go? It's not a final chapter but that's the gist of what would've happened.

But moving on, I was also going through a lot of things in my personal life that I won't get into. I was working on other writing projects that I had more interest in, so [with you] was put on the backburner. Then, over time I grew more sour about it the more pressure and guilt I put on myself, added with the pressure and guilt put on by my readers.

I do want to clarify that it's not like ALL of my readers were like this. Most of them were sweet, supportive followers who only had nice things to say. But you know how it is... you could get ten comments/asks, nine of them positive and one negative, and it's the negative one that's going to stick to you.

So, to my lovely readers, I am sorry that I let you down by not finishing it. To the rude readers, I'm less sorry because y'all were dicks.

Y'know... I can look at all of my other works and either be like "Yeah, I'm really proud of that story," or "Eh, it was one of my earlier works, so I can't be too hard on it."

But [with you] puts me in a crisis of "oh god I'm a fraud, I was never a good writer, what am I doing??? why?? why are you like this??"

and I have to snap myself out of it. That's why I'm so like this about it now.

There are other little things I could go into, but this answer is long enough. I figure if anyone has any further questions or criticisms, they'll send 'em in and I can answer them that way.

I've moved on from all my twdg writing, I'm writing dragon age stuff now, and it's finally working for me so it's not like [with you] has me all hung up still. Plus, I think it's good to go back and learn from mistakes made in old works, y'know?

[lesbianpegbar]

the true trigun stampede experience is my overwhelming apathy mild rage and the rare love of trigun that seeps through once every six episodes having a never ending cage match in my brain

[savrenim]

gods nov 5th is the gift that keeps giving

[ihateitheretaylor]

My brother needs to go to therapy. He has got huge family problems. His childhood was messed up.

[ranger-kellyn]

told myself to take a break from getaway car so i don't burn myself out like i did last year, and of course my brain wanted to go think about my scarlet/violet fic, sooo have some rambling below the read more

like. one of my ideas has always been that i want juliana specifically to have quaxly not just bc he's my favorite starter in that region, but because it turns into quaquaval, a pokemon that is supposed to be known for its dancing abilities. i like to think they're a pokemon that only needs to see a dance once or twice before they've got it memorized.

i love the idea that a huge part of juliana's overall character arc is admitting to herself how much she wants to learn how to dance in some way because of course she happened to pick the pokemon that loves to dance. so she's basically learning alongside her pokemon throughout his evolution stages, mutually gaining more confidence until he's a fully grown quaquaval.

and!! not just him, but probably the three friends as well! it may not be something any of them are really interested in to begin with, but juliana and quaquaval make it a ton of fun. she probably even takes the time to learn an individual dance of some kind with each of them, and is the first to drag anyone to any festivals happening in the cities and towns.

(bc i am who i am) nemona's the first friend juliana ends up dancing with. while juliana quickly realizes how much quaxly likes music, nemona is the one who tells her about how he's going to turn into a pokemon that loves to dance. she mostly just enjoys having fun with them and learning whatever juliana is into. something that really helps juliana come out of her shell, which leads her to opening up to arven and penny around the same time

not 100% sure of styles apart yet but i mean...penny's has to be some nerd dance lol. i also kinda love the idea of arven learning a very formal spanish style dance with them.

idk i just want the core pillars of this story to be something along the lines of, music, song, food, and dance are all forms of love and connection and can be healing and--- AH i just want them to have time to really develop as a friend group throughout the treasure hunt.

[kimtaegis]

👋 2022

[yo-yoringle]

Neil Newbon on Ascended Astarion

Neil: I do love the fact that I got to create kind of two characters in one.

Blue Owl Medic: I was just thinking that. Yeah, you did.

Neil: So now that the game has come out and the whole thing, we can talk a little bit more freely about the game. No real spoilers, folks, because obviously people are still playing through it, which is amazing, including me. But there is an ascended Astarion, which people probably know, as well as an unascended Astarion. I'm not going to go into details of why, although it is all over the internet, but anyway.

But one of the fun things that I got to do with the directors and the writer as well, with Stephen, and also the other writers that contributed towards Astarion, [is that they] wrote this ascended storyline. And so, when I came across that, I realized that 'Oh, his voice probably changes as well, because his whole status changes and his whole situation changes and his power changes.' So I got to do something else, because that would also be an easy way to switch between one and the other.

And so I decided that, well, I've always talked about Astarion being very theatrical. So what if Astarion's unascended spawn is theatrical, and ascended Astarion is operatic, and I use that as a sort of launchpad. So that one is theatre, one is opera. So the two are the same kind of things, but essentially… Do you know what I mean? It's like that kind of thing.

I offered that up to the directors and they really liked it. Kirsty Gilmore was the first person who I tried it with. I think it was Kirsty Gilmore, who is an amazing director. I'm pretty sure it was her session I did the first Lord Astarion and we set the tone there. And that was really cool.

BOM: And I don't know if that was your choice, but he also holds himself differently.

Neil: Yes, he does, he definitely holds himself differently.

BOM: He stands way more upright, his chest is a little more out

Neil: Yes, that's status. That's all Laban work. We're just using completely different status shift changes as well. So whereas he has a lot of flow and all that kind of stuff and it's theatrical and distracting--it's always 'look over here and don't see how I really feel' with spawn Astarion.

With Lord Astarion, we talked a lot about the idea that the cover is now off completely. So that you see him at his most terrible, and it's completely honest and he doesn't have to pretend anymore. So he loses a lot of the flamboyance and the fun of the theatricality, which is all a distraction anyway. That's all distraction so you don't see how he's hurt and damaged and his vulnerability. Lord Astarion doesn't need that anymore. So we just thought, okay, now *mimics taking off a mask* it's off. He doesn't need to pretend, he doesn't need to do too much. It's all about the status and that kind of stuff.

It was a really fun experience to take a character I've been doing for a long time and then flip it. And that was, again, brilliant writing by Larian, brilliant storytelling by them all and brilliant ideas. So yeah, it was really fun.

--from Neil's February 1, 2024 twitch stream

[neverendingford]

.

[cc-kote]

God I am so insanely proud of this gd novella of a fic I've been writing for the last month or so. I have the whole thing mapped out (3 acts, but the third act is separated into 2 parts) and act 1 is nearly finished. I just can't believe how much I have done already. For the last 5 years I've been struggling so hard to write anything consistently, like I had my own original stories planned and bits and pieces of them written but I struggled so hard to make the plot coherent and the characters dynamic and it was making me feel so sad and unenthusiastic abt writing. And then I fuckin watched TROS and got so pissed abt how dirty they did my faves that I was suddenly inspired to write my own self indulgent af fix it fic 😂😂😂

It's just so funny to me that the driving force behind me getting back into the swing of writing stories was being so deeply unsatisfied with the fates of my favorite characters that I felt the overwhelming need to take matters Into my own hands and rewrite it in a way that panders to what I want for them.

[awearywritersworld]

my very soul demands you

sukuna x reader summary: you introduce sukuna to cuddling and romance novels. meanwhile, he's still struggling to make sense of his feelings for you, despite wanting to commit murder because another man had the nerve to touch your arm (which earns him a lecture from yuuji). w/c: 2.5k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. jealous!sukuna. aged up!yuuji. features yuuji x reader. cursing. banter. hopefully not too ooc for sukuna. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it'd flow much better with the context of the previous two parts. lots of denial and begrudging softness from sukuna here. definitely more fluff than anything tho. this series has been fun to write, so thanks for reading<3 i appreciate reblogs or feedback! let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any additional parts. series masterlist // masterlist

when you crawl in between sukuna's legs and curl up against his chest, it's a foreign experience that makes his body stiffen.

he'd been with countless women during his lifetime, but while fucking is one thing, he never once found himself in a position that struck him as this... intimate.

"hold me," you whine as if you can sense his unfamiliarity with such matters.

he rolls his eyes, beginning to wonder if your habit of throwing orders at him is actually some sort of compulsive need. "didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"

despite his irritation, he acquiesces to your demand and once he envelops you in his arms, some of his rigidness dissipates.

you hum contentedly. "isn't that better?"

"it's tolerable," he asserts, his chest vibrating against your cheek.

"whatever you say." tangling your legs with his, you turn your attention back to the movie you've both been watching.

he doesn't understand this... tedious display of affection, nor does he particularly enjoy it... right?

and he only allows it because he can't rid his mind of the image of your tear stained face... right?

yeah, that has to be it. he figures he can endure this, given that he was the reason you were so upset earlier.

it goes without saying that he doesn't realize it when he begins to rub absentminded circles on your back.

and the way the warmth of your body forces his usually tense muscles to relax goes unacknowledged.

when the credits begin to roll, sukuna's wearing an expression of unimpressed disinterest. "that's seriously how it ends?"

you don't respond, so he looks down only to find that you're fast asleep.

"tch. you ask to watch a movie, force me to pick it, and then you don't even have the decency to stay awake." he's not sure why he's chiding you even though he knows you can't hear him, but he keeps his voice low enough that it won't disturb you.

sukuna's spent more time than he cares to admit watching your sleeping form, but this is the first time that it's actually him you're pressed against. it's the first time he can reach out and touch you.

your hair has fallen across your face, so he pushes it back behind your ear gently. the pads of his fingers brush against your cheekbone, a ghost of a caress, and his gaze lingers on your parted lips.

he lets out a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from you. "impertinent brat."

reaching for the remote, he flips off the tv and casts the room in darkness.

upon waking up in the morning, yuuji's confused once he notices that he's on the couch and you're sleeping against his chest.

he may have been half asleep when he arrived home, but he's still positive he went to bed. stretching his arms above his head, the movement jostles you from your slumber.

"mornin', baby."

"good morning, yu," you yawn in response, shifting to sit up.

"how'd i wind up on the couch?" he asks, though he's already got an inkling of the answer.

"oh," you blush. "sukuna kind of made an appearance last night."

"that so? how'd it go?"

you think there might be a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. is he teasing you?

"good," you offer. "we watched a movie."

"watched a movie with the king of curses," he muses before his face breaks out into a lopsided grin. "you sure are somethin', baby."

returning his smile, you lean in and press your lips to his. "hm. says you."

it's not uncommon for you to meet yuuji for lunch if his mission is short and nearby, and today is one of those days, so he eagerly makes his way to the cafe you agreed on.

he's still a few hundred feet away when he spots you through the window, chatting with a man he recognizes as your childhood friend.

his gaze drops to where his hand is wrapped around your forearm as you both share a laugh together.

it doesn't really bother yuuji, he trusts you implicitly and jealousy isn't an emotion that's really on his radar. the same can't be said for everyone, though.

sukuna watches on as well, his thoughts much darker than his vessel's. who does that wretch think he is, putting his hands on you?

you're not his to touch.

"give me control," sukuna growls, his mouth appearing on yuuji's cheek.

"and why would i do that?"

"so i can rip his heart out and gift it to her since he seems so interested in offering his affections."

"duuuude," yuuji begins, somewhat amused. "i don't think she'd be super crazy about you murdering her friend."

"fine," sukuna bites back, well aware that yuuji has a point. "but he can live without his filthy hands, can't he? perhaps i'll pull each arm from his torso—"

yuuji snorts. "you have some serious issues, man."

he can feel sukuna trying to take over and easily curbs the attempt, though that only fuels the king of curses' irritation. "my only issue lies in the fact you're allowing this to happen."

yuuji reaches the door, a bell chiming through the cafe as he pulls it open. "she's a big girl. she doesn't need either of us to dictate what can and can't happen to her."

once you see your boyfriend, your face lights up and you call out his name. you place a kiss on his cheek and snake an arm around his waist in greeting, and the space it puts between you and your friend is enough to keep sukuna from protesting further.

"you two have met, right?" you ask.

"yeah! hey, itadori! it's been a while."

"it has! good to see you, yamada."

"i'd love to stay and chat more, but i have to get going," he states, leaning in to give you a hug which you return. "we should all go out together soon!"

"absolutely not, you deplorable knave—" yuuji slaps a hand to his cheek before sukuna can continue and yamada gives him an odd look.

your eyes widen for a split second and you have to stop yourself from facepalming.

"what'd you say?" yamada asks, sounding a bit hesitant.

"i said absolutely, sounds like an enjoyable night!"

the men exchange a handshake before you and yuuji make your way to a table.

"sukuna, what the hell was that?" you hiss once yamada's out of earshot.

"i don't know what you mean," he responds smugly.

you meet yuuji's eye and he just shrugs his shoulders, but you swear the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

you can't imagine anything good coming from the two of them colluding with one another, but let it go anyway.

opening up your menu, you sigh in defeat. "if you say so."

"what do you mean you'd rather disembowel yourself?" you question the man sitting across from you.

it's becoming more commonplace to see those dark marks adorning yuuji's body during the nighttime hours. you sometimes wonder if he's letting it happen or if sukuna's just getting better at taking over, but you're too nervous to ask.

"do you need a dictionary? there's one over on the shelf—"

"no, asshole. i know what disembowel means! i just don't understand your refusal."

he raises his eyebrows at the obscenity, but doesn't comment on it. "i'm not reading some inane romance novel."

"but brontë's one of my favorite authors!"

"it makes no difference if it was penned by the gods. the thought alone is absurd. can we move on now?"

you don't respond. instead, you cross your arms and stare at the wall defiantly. your face is contorted into an expression that lets sukuna know you're clearly affronted.

"very mature, you silly little girl."

"sorry you find me and my interests so childish," you huff.

"oh, please. that's not what i said."

you continue giving him the cold shoulder, having no desire to argue further, but more than willing to die on this hill.

"fine, don't talk. it's no matter to me," he claims (despite it being the furthest thing from the truth).

as the minutes tick by, he keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye and exhaling dramatically.

eventually, he calls your name in an exasperated tone, and while it makes your heart flutter, you still don't spare him a glance. you just hold the book out for him and to your surprise, he rips it from your grasp.

"you're ridiculous," he grumbles, opening the cover to reveal the first page. "i hate you."

when he glances over to see you're beaming at him despite the insult, he adds (albeit half heartedly), "i mean it, brat."

the two of you sit in silence, each of you reading your respective books. a few chapters in, sukuna comes across the following conversation:

"do you know where the wicked go after death?" "they go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer. "and what is hell? can you tell me that?" "a pit full of fire." "and should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?" "no, sir." "what must you do to avoid it?" i deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: "i must keep in good health, and not die."

to your astonishment, you actually hear him chuckle, but when he looks over and finds your self satisfied smirk, any hint of humor disappears from his face in the blink of an eye. your hand quickly moves to your mouth to stifle a giggle.

"something you want to say?" he baits you.

"nope, nothing at all!"

two nights later, he's already nearing the end of the story and you refrain from commenting about how quickly he's made his way through.

you doubt he'd allow your current position if you had— you're laying on your side, your head resting comfortably in his lap, one hand occupying the space above his knee.

when you asked if it was okay, all he offered you was a clipped, "i suppose."

your hair is splayed across his thigh and your eyes fluttered shut a while ago. when he agreed to this, he didn't realize how distracting it'd be. his gaze flickers between you and the words on the page with embarrassing frequency.

he's decided what you call cuddling is absolutely suffocating. how anyone could actually enjoy it, he's sure he'll never comprehend. he can hardly concentrate on the novel that's right in front of him—

"read to me, 'kuna," you mumble, interrupting his thoughts. it surprises him that you're still awake.

he scoffs. "what do i look like? your personal audiobook?"

"you didn't even know those existed until like a week ago," you laugh. "c'mon, pleaaaaaase."

he stays quiet for a few moments, so you're under the impression he may just ignore your request. as such, you're exceptionally pleased when his voice fills the otherwise still apartment.

you think the sound of his voice is comforting, an idea that would more than likely make him cringe, so you keep it to yourself. after all, you don't want him to stop.

at some point or another, he begins twirling a strand of your hair around his finger whenever he's not turning the page, an action that seems to take place without his noticing.

occasionally he'll pause to ask if you're even listening. it's an odd feeling that blossoms in his stomach when you assure, "mhmm. every word."

as he reaches the second to last chapter, he reads a line that makes you question whether your heart's stopped beating. you're not sure if it's because of the tone of his voice, the words he's imparting, or some mix thereof.

"no—no—jane; you must not go. no—i have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence—the sweetness of your consolation: i cannot give up these joys. i have little left in myself—I must have you. the world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify."

he stops reading, as if he too feels the sense of unease that's invaded the air. against your better judgement, you turn to look at him. his eyes are glued to the page, almost like they're avoiding you, and his jaw is tense.

"my very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”

when his gaze finally lands on you, his expression is almost pained. it's a strange contrast to the warm fondness you spot in his eyes.

you quickly push that thought away, however. whatever you believe you may have seen, you're probably just deluding yourself. you know you aren't his least favorite person, but surely he'd never feel even half of that sentiment toward you—

your breath catches in your throat when his hand reaches up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. he still marvels at the fact you don't shy away from his touch, that you're usually the one to seek out contact with him.

perhaps the story is not as asinine as he expected it to be. rochester presumes jane will find him revolting, yet she still agrees to be with him, even after his selfishness has been made plain to her. after the sins of his past have caught up to him.

no, no, no.

to be so desperate for some woman's approval, or her devotion for that matter, is despicable. rochester's nothing less than foolish and sukuna isn't anything like him.

but you're certainly like jane, aren't you? fearless, passionate, and determined: all things he can't help but find endearing...

gods, what is this turmoil? it's making him feel pathetic and there isn't an emotion in the world he hates more—

you distract him from his internal monologue when your fingers wrap around his wrist and bring his knuckles to your lips. "you okay?"

"of course," he mutters, pulling his hand away. "just trying to get past all the mawkishness."

"really? you think it's that bad?" you question, the frown on your lips igniting that ache in his chest that appears whenever you're upset.

"it's not terrible," he sighs, realizing there may indeed be one thing he despises even more than feeling pathetic. "although i don't understand how jane is so taken with rochester."

you seem to ponder this for a moment before shrugging. "love is weird."

"what a clever analysis."

you slap his chest playfully. "oh, whatever. just keep going, you're almost finished!"

and you're right. he does reach the end of jane eyre that night, but not before you fall asleep on his lap. he closes the book, running a finger down the creased spine and setting it down carefully. it's obvious you've read it several times.

admittedly, he can see why, but he'd be caught dead before he'd ever tell you as much.

left alone with his thoughts, he considers the impossibility of jane and rochester: a charming, headstrong woman and a cruel, arrogant man.

leaning forward, he whispers your name to make certain you're asleep, then places a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"..sweet dreams."

[ao3commentoftheday]

any advice about how to deal with posting a fic and getting radio silence? I know ppl aren’t owed engagement ofc, but I feel embarrassed at having spent so long on something no one cares about, and although I liked thinking about the characters and fandom before (and was considering writing more about them), now I can’t think about it without feeling that overpowering embarrassment 😭 part of me wants to delete the fic, but that would mean having to open ao3 and look at it again LMAO

sorry for the venting, I know this is probably a me problem, but has anyone else felt this, and if so, is there any way to make this pervasive shame go away??

*hugs* This is a very painful thing to experience and there isn't really any way to make it just go away, unfortunately. However, you can reflect on it a bit, when you're ready to.

Writing and posting are separate activities. If you've enjoyed writing the story but you haven't enjoyed posting it to the Archive, you can always continue writing just for yourself. This may or may not be something you'd enjoy - you know better than I do whether some of your enjoyment came from the anticipation of a reaction to your work.

Try to analyze where your embarrassment is coming from. Is it worrying that your story was poorly written? A lack of a reaction doesn't mean that the story is bad. Being unpopular doesn't mean it's bad, either. If your story is good to you, then it's a good story.

Is your embarrassment from feeling like you were "caught trying." Is it a cringe at the idea that you put effort into something that someone else doesn't (appear to) find valuable?

Is it actually embarrassment at all? Are you feeling a different kind of hurt instead? Did you hope that someone in particular would read your story and now you feel ignored? Did you hope to be embraced by your community and now you feel shunned?

These are difficult questions that I'm asking and you might not want to think about them right now. That's okay. You don't need to if you don't want to. You can definitely delete the fic and pretend it never happened. Or you can log out of that AO3 account and create a new one and never look back. Maybe you just need to take a week or a month off for a hiatus of sorts and when the ache isn't as bad, you'll be able to face it all again.

When I felt this way, it was because I felt like I'd put something into my community and that I'd been ignored. But since that time, I've found one person who gives me all of the community support I used to get from an entire fandom, and now when I post something on AO3 I don't actually need a response anymore. I get all of the fun and excitement and validation etc from my conversations and RP threads with my best friend.

Once you've got a little distance from the pain of this moment, try to figure out what it is that you were hoping to get and then figure out how you can get it. Maybe it's through posting fic to AO3, but maybe it's not.

Let's see what others can suggest. This is not something you're experiencing alone, anon. So very many of your fellow fan writers have experienced this too ❤️