#Also if you're unfamiliar with some of the terms that just shows you that I'm not okay

[riaki]

i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.

soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.

and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.

it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.

but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.

he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.

and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.

that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.

but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.

so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.

and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.

he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.

he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.

and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?

but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.

pt.2

[imaginethezeldaverse]

The Desert's Moon (Ganondorf x Reader) (NSFW)

Welcome, welcome to the 100 follower fic I set all those polls for! You all chose and waited so patiently, so please allow me to give you the winner: a good fic with our big bad guy, Ganondorf (Tears of the Kingdom version). This will be nsfw, and just to be safe, be wary of any spoilers below the cut, okay? For this fic I'm running with an idea that was dropped in my inbox - initially I had planned to make it a simple headcanon post, but since he won, I'm writing it as a full blown fic instead. Thank you all for voting, it sincerely means a lot, I cannot believe even more of you have followed me since then. The comments and appreciation from you all truly makes my day. 🥹 As for the theme: you are inexperienced (we'll even say virginal) and Ganondorf here is going to be your first. Let's explore that together, shall we? Reader is gender neutral for all to enjoy. I sniped some fictional Gerudo language from here because I mean Ganondorf is a Gerudo man...he definitely should be able to speak the language.

Ganondorf is intimidating, this much is true. His demeanor exudes power in all things he does: fight, lead, and even fuck. He's had many a partner, his skills as a lover growing with each encounter of his past. He is not unfamiliar with experienced partners - and he will show you the patience and slowness you deserve.

The key is for you to be honest with him. Should you try to front as though you are experienced in sex, just know that he can see right through you. Ganondorf's read on body language is exceptional - so the slight shake in your body or the quiver in your voice is an immediate alert to him that you aren't what you're trying to portray yourself as. To your benefit however, he'll most likely find this cute. You attempting to be brave and take him head on is adorable, even though you have no idea what you'd be getting into (or really what would be getting into you). Being upfront however is not without its loss - you'd gain his respect and potentially a chance to call him an equal, he likes the idea of a long-term partner who can be honest with themselves as well as him.

For a man of his size and status, he's quite gentle. He offers to hold you first in your nudity, get you used to feeling his body against yours. Ganondorf will most likely seat you in his lap, with your legs splayed open over the length of his hips and thighs. Should you shy away or find yourself embarrassed by the less than polite way you're sat on him, he'll simply chuckle, reiterating that this is to acclimate you. His hands will find a place on your thighs, unmoving, but present. "Touch me anywhere you'd like," he offers, the rich amber of his eyes meeting your own. Setting the pace in your favor will help ease some of your apprehension. Your hands explore the planes of his body: his adept, powerful hands; the sizable, muscular curvatures of his forearms and biceps; over the thickened bands of his shoulders and down to the broad expanse of his chest. He's a mountainous man in size and that alone has you a tiny bit afraid, but you also can't deny that being able to trace your fingertips over the patterned tattoos that stretch across his muscles doesn't elate you.

When your hands finally cup the wide angles of his jaw, you find the pluck to once more lock eyes with the Gerudo chief. There's something unreadable swimming in them: whether it's tenderness or restraint you aren't wholly sure. His arm wraps around your lower back, bring you ever closer to him in a swift push. Your hands remain on his face, lips inching closer. Ganondorf doesn't kiss you. No, he wants you to be the one to take the honor of taking the first step. The world talks of his lust and greed for power, and make no mistake, the rumors are very much true. But this - intimacy with you - Ganondorf knows better than to rush. Taking you by force serves him little, and there is humanity in him still that bars him from wanting any harm to come to you. To feel your body yearn for him willingly only makes that much sweeter. Your breaths mingle momentarily, your heart pounding in your chest until you finally take the plunge and seal the gap. You're chaste in your kiss, timidity holding your tongue. No matter, the sensation of his thick digits roaming over the curve of your ass has you gasping enough against his mouth for him to coax you into a deeper kiss. Unbeknownst to you, your head tilts naturally, angling so that you can continue the kiss comfortably. You let go of his face, your fingers sliding into his long vermillion locks. There's a sound vibrating at the back of his throat that hits your ears so pleasantly - the simple soothing sensation of your hands in his hair delights him, so naturally he wants you to know it. The kiss builds heat, your body slowly beginning to want his hands to move beyond your backside. You lean into him, pressing your chest to his and linking your arms around his neck. The smile that curls his lips upward is something you can feel, and you almost smile back - but his hands that have now occupied a space on your hips are dragging your body over his lap. Ganondorf parts from your mouth, watching you bite your lip as he slowly grinds you over what you realize is his length beginning to grow rigid beneath you. Breaths slowly starting to come in shudders you snap your eyes shut, focusing on how his length slides teasingly over where you biologically know he's going to be soon enough.

"Do you feel me?" he purrs, dark tiger eyes trained on your flushed features, "Do you feel my want for you? My desire?" Your thighs are seeking one another to lock this feeling between them, but his hulking mass keeps them widely separated - your center at the mercy of his ministrations. Seeking purchase, your nails dig into his shoulders, earning a pleased rumble from the man. His lips find the hollow of your throat, easing pointed kisses and gentle bites to your sensitive flesh. Soft moans sound angelic to Ganondorf's ears; with ease he lifts you into his arms, your legs still very much wrapped as best as possible around his torso. Smooth, crimson silks caress your back as you're laid across the stretch of his bed. He doesn't stop kissing your body, only proceeds to move down it. Your collarbone, your nipples, the softness of your stomach: all places his lips tease and touch. He drinks your whines and whimpers in as though starving, an innate need to hear your voice call out to him ever growing. Still, he keeps slow. Rough finger pads glide down your body, stroking and fondling a pathway until he settles on his knees, with your legs splayed open by the sheer width of him. Those kisses that traveled now dot their way from your knee and inward. Your breath hitches, you know where he's going...you desperately want him there. As he reaches closer and closer, you shudder out, "P-Please...Gan..." Those initially amber slits, now ochre with hunger, slide up to see your face. Your cheeks are stained with reddish hues with your chest rising and falling faster than before.

"Is there something you need?" the timbre in his voice makes somewhere your stomach clench. How is it just his voice makes you feel this way? What kind of spell has he cast on you? Though your mind tries to wrack itself with answers, it always circles back to the lips that are nipping at your inner thighs. He places a kiss just close enough for you to feel his breath over your sex and you swallow thick with the gasp that tries to free itself.

"Your...mouth..." says you in a shaky whine, "Please..."

Like satin and fire, his chuckle is both suave but with the promise of something vile. A strong grip parts your legs further, holding you wide open. You try desperately not to look at how he drinks your nudeness in, fearing that you seeing the sheer lust flashing across his strong features will have you curl into yourself.

His mouth descends.

You gasp sharply.

Hot and wet is his tongue against your opening, circling your responsive flesh, his eyes never leaving your face. Ganondorf watches on as his silver tongue devours you, each lap and suck at you surging pleasure through your limbs. With one last scoop at your hole, he drew back. There was a question at your lips when you felt him retreat, but before you could even get a word out, you felt his finger carefully slide into you.

"A-Ah!" you mewled, then hissed. Given the size of him overall, even his fingers were substantial in filling you somewhat.

"Shhhhh," Ganondorf hushed your seizing frame. A hand came to your thigh, his thumb stroking in soothing circles the same time his opposite finger exited you, "Relax, my va'ina, you'll need to be much more open if you plan to take me." Your body shudders as you breathe, willing yourself to relax yourself in his ministrations. Having already gave you some slickness there, his finger meets less resistance than normal. His eyes roam your figure slowly, watching all of the small shivers and shakes that begin to build as his digit steadily works in and out of you. A spark of want pulses up your hips, with each coax of his finger you felt tiny rivulets of desire multiply inside you.

"Ganondorf..." came your gentle plea. This feeling was slowly starting to feel inadequate, your hips moving ever so slightly to try and chase the sensation of fullness. Chuckling at your urgency, the Gerudo chieftain withdraws his finger - adding another and sliding back into you. Eyelashes aflutter, you mewl at the sensation of being filled once more.

"There we are," he mused, smirking at the way you're snatching your bottom lip between your teeth. Gradually his fingers stretched you open, separating minutely as he fed your body each stroke. As soon as you had acclimated, you found yourself once again needing more. His hand, though making you feel good, was simply proving not to be enough. Ganondorf recognizes this as your features scrunch with some frustration. You need him, don't you? You need more than just two measly fingers to give you the passion that you seek.

"Your body seeks more than my current attentions I see," he says matter-of-factly, withdrawing his now very wet digits.

You turn your head away to blush, being read like an open book made your body burn with some embarrassment. Yet Ganondorf understood. He lifts your leg by your calf, pressing a kiss into the muscle there. "No worry, I'll give you everything you seek." He sits upright now, towering over your supine frame, a hand at each of your knees. You know what comes next, and though you tremble under him, there's a fire in those eyes of his that keeps you brave. Fingers descend upon his. He catches your gaze, doe-like and nervous, but no sign of withdrawal within them.

"You'll go slow, won't you?" you ask him, your heart mere seconds away from jumping out of your chest. There's an expectation for him to laugh at such an innocent, if not naïve question - but he surprises you when his hand takes your chin between two large fingers and keeps your eyes to his. Softness unlike you've ever seen in him stares back at you. "I wouldn't dream of bringing you harm, va'ina, you're safe with me." His words bring you comfort, allowing you shut your eyes in readied bliss. To reflect this, you spread your legs further apart, "Then I am yours, Ganondorf."

His lips find yours, hungry in its kiss. As his tongue melds against yours, he slips a hand down to grasp himself. You feel the slight shift of his body on yours, strong thighs flush to the backs of yours. He parts from the kiss, though his face remains close, "Ready?" Unable to trust your voice, you simply nod. His muscular frame surrounds your body, encasing you in his warmth. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you inhale sharply when he presses into you. Considerable length and girth stretch you far more than his fingers could even attempt. He's slow, methodical in his pace. So much so that he stops, just past the head of him, the second you tense in his arms.

"Breathe..." coaches Ganondorf, his voice showing the tiniest hint of strain. Though shaky, you try to follow his advice, and it calms your body enough for him to advance. Your mouth drops open from the pressure, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as another inch fills you. The man above pecks loving kisses to your face as he sneaks a hand downward. He revels in the pleased gasp you let out when his fingers stroke your sex, "That's it...open up for me..." With him steadily plunging into your depths and the deliberate tease of his hand at your most sensitive area, you recognize that same spark from earlier.

Want. Need.

He slides in further still, about at halfway down the whole of him now. His hand doesn't relent on your flesh, easing over you with the intent to build the ecstasy he knows you're absentmindedly chasing. Ganondorf has every intention to bring you to rapture, but again - at your pace. There's a tremor in your thighs that shakes against his hips, he gives you more of him; but the noise you let out this time is a moan muffled only by the barrier of your bitten lip. He grins at this, supply your body with just a bit more. No reaction this time - you were getting used to him. His fingers stroke you for a few more counts, this being just enough for you to take him all the way to the hilt. You keen slightly, so impossibly full and almost dizzy from how overwhelmingly large he feels inside of you.

"Stay with me, love" he whispers, his opposite thumb stroking your cheek. The deep octave of his voice and the tender caress soothe you enough to lean into his touch. Ganondorf captures your lips once more, this kiss slower than the last. His hips remain still though his tongue ravages your mouth, and it pulls a licentious moan from you; the knowledge of him locked deep inside you as he kisses you so fervently has you yearning for what you know you want most. His mouth moves into your neck, and without hesitation your fingers bury into his fiery mane. There's a slight withdrawal of his hips, and you welcome the feeling now, the minor shift of friction feeding into a feeling at the most basic level of your instincts.

"More," your quivered voice speaks in his ear, "P-Please."

He's touched at your politeness, though it's unnecessary. You are a being to be worshipped in this regard, though you didn't realize it, you would never need to beg from him. Touching his forehead to your own, Ganondorf rumbles deep in his chest, pulling almost all of the way out of you before sliding all the way back in. "Nnngh, yes..." Ah, all he needed to hear. Adept hands place themselves at two points: a fist near your head for steadying, and a hand bracing underneath your back to keep you there. Leisurely, shallow thrusts easily evolved into deep, harder strokes. Your body would transform - blossom from tightly wound and tense to fully open and wanting.

The Gerudo male knows you're fully spellbound by your lovemaking when your nails begin to bite into the muscle of his shoulder blades - a most welcome pinch of pain. He's fully working you into you now, his hips immovable pistons to fuck you fully now. Your sweet and soft moans were climbing in crescendo, his name tumbling in slurred syllables off your honey covered tongue. Unable to stop himself now, Ganondorf growled into the junction of your neck and shoulder, pulling your body as flush to him as he could.

"Ah, ohh, mmf! Ahhhh G-Gan," you whined, clinging to him, "My body's on fire...I nghh I...!"

He feels you tightening around him, his pants are harsh as they dampen your skin, "Let it happen...let me have all of you." With only a few strokes of him you fall apart in a scream, your body winding up impossibly tight and then loosening entirely. The orgasmic pulse of your slickness around him milks him with an ungodly grip. He fucks you as fast as your body will allow, a few resounding claps against your flesh combining with the cries of your slight overstimulation that finally bring him to his own end. His strong fingers dig into you as he cums, hot and fast, in a wildly indecent roar. Your hands hold him in his place on your body, welcoming every drop of the licentious liquid that he spills inside of you. His hips begin to slow, still sliding in and out of your now sopping hole, and though you were already long finished, you moan at the sensation of his cock pulsing and feeding your body even now.

When he finally can take no more, he pulls from you entirely in a rough grunt. You feel the weeping of his seed from your entrance, but you are far too exhausted to care. Your body hums in pleasured bliss, but your limbs, so worn from a use you'd yet to experience until today, feel akin to lead. Never an issue, however, as Ganondorf carefully maneuvers you both so you can rest comfortably: with you at his side. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your body in silence, your hand and head rest at his chest.

"Gan...?" your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes lazily move to you. Your heart flutters with candid bravery, "...I love you."

He smiles at this. Fitting words for a connection as deep as this. His hand covers your head, pressing you closer to his chest in a protective maneuver. Ganondorf is anything but vulnerable...but even a man as mighty as he isn't incapable of feeling.

"You have my heart, va'ina. You are mine as I am yours."

You hum contentedly, happy to fall asleep in the arms of the man who loved you.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 14

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

No Laurent. All signs of recent occupancy had been a handspan away from his own body, suggesting a night spent in close but not transgressive proximity: some kind of self-preservation had apparently prevented Damen from rolling inward during the night; from throwing his arm over Laurent’s torso and drawing them together to make the small tent seem larger than it was. As a result, Damen was in possession of all his limbs, and even had his clothing restored to him. Thank you, Laurent.

The embroidery came later, in the retelling, as the story was told again and again by the men, taking on its own character as it passed over camp. The Prince had ridden out, with only one soldier. Deep in the mountains, he had chased down the rats responsible for these killings. Had ripped them out of their hiding holes and fought them, thirty to one, at least. Had brought them back thrashed, lashed and subdued. That was their Prince for you, a twisty, vicious fiend who you should never, ever cross, unless you wanted your gullet handed to you on a platter. Why, he once rode a horse to death just to beat Torveld of Patras to the mark.

like how this ironic misunderstanding of the events is similar to how damen viewed laurent in book 1 and some of book 2. except now he gets the irony

He looked at Laurent’s tent of silks, the pennants unfurled in the breeze, their starbursts undulating. The distant voices of the men swelled briefly, then dropped away. It would not be like this. It would be a systematic campaign moving southwards towards Ios, building on the support he had from the kyroi factions. He would not be stealing out of camp at night to spin mad plans, to dress in unfamiliar clothes and forge alliances with rogue clans, or to fight alongside pony-riding warriors, capturing bandits improbably in the mountains. It would not be like this again.

:(

‘Keep the prisoners alive, keep the women on side, keep my men from the women,’ said Laurent, as though reciting from a checklist. ‘Come over here and talk geography.’ He came as he was bid, and took a seat opposite Laurent, across the map.

they’re so cute i can’t stand them. “come over here and talk geography” SHUT UP

Laurent did not tend to show any of the usual outward signs of fatigue. The control that he asserted and maintained over the troop was an extension of the control with which he ruled himself. A few tells existed. The words, perhaps.

“the words, perhaps” is such a funny line here. because like yeah no shit, but also how is damen supposed to know when laurent’s words actually reflect his true feelings?

Instinctively, Damen brought his hand up to squeeze Laurent’s shoulder gently—and then stopped. Laurent went very still, as Damen became aware of what he had just done, and that his grip was still on Laurent’s shoulder. He felt the locked muscles like hard wood beneath his hand. ‘Stiff?’ said Damen, casually. ‘A little,’ said Laurent, after a moment in which Damen’s heart knocked twice against the inside of his chest.

one thing i really appreciate about capri is the way that laurent is written, as a character with trauma/baggage who experiences intimacy in a way you wouldn’t expect from the love interest in a romance novel. he doesn’t make anything easy, for himself or for damen. his physical and mental reactions to things are very telling and consistent, and i appreciate pacat’s commitment to honoring that aspect of the character. that way it’s so much more rewarding when we finally see laurent let go of control and experience love that doesn’t hurt him.

i won’t do an official count for “laurent intimacy issues,” since it’s not nearly as clear-cut as “laurent leans,” but if there’s something that strikes this chord with me, i do want to make note of it. just… stuff that i personally appreciate, especially from a love interest in a romance novel, whose whole narrative job—one would expect—is to love the protagonist and have hot sex. but sensitive and traumatized people deserve love and intimacy, too, at their own pace and on their own terms. and laurent has a lot more going on than what damen perceives, or what the romance genre dictates. it’s nice to point out little moments where his issues affect his physical and emotional reactions, because it’s nice to know that those moments 1) exist and 2) don’t make him any less of a romantic lead.

He applied a gentle pressure with his thumbs. He said, ‘You brought me ice, last night.’ ‘This,’ said Laurent, ‘is a little more—’ It was a word of sharp points: ‘—intimate,’ he said, ‘than ice.’ ‘Too intimate?’ Damen said. Slowly, he was kneading Laurent’s shoulders. He did not usually think of himself as someone with suicidal impulses. Laurent did not relax at all, just stood unmoving. And then, at the apsis of his thumbs, a muscle shifted beneath pressure, unlocking a sequence all the way down Laurent’s back. Laurent said, unwillingly, ‘I . . . There.’ ‘Here?’ ‘Yes.’

a lot going on here! made even more complicated by damen’s pov!

damen takes physical intimacy much less seriously than laurent. prior to book 1, he has always enjoyed willing and enthusiastic partners (some of whom were conditioned into that enthusiasm, but we’ll deal with that later), and to him, sex is not a means of abuse or power. prior to book 1, intimacy was never used to disempower damen. laurent, obviously, is very different. pretty much all he knows of intimacy is abuse and disempowerment.

so, being aware of laurent’s trauma and also being fairly perceptive of the signs pointing towards it, i can see here that laurent is fighting a massive battle with himself. because, like, he does want this. but he doesn’t want to want this, because this is something he doesn’t have control over. the fact that he doesn’t throw damen off, and even explicitly asks him to massage a certain spot, is a demonstration of vulnerability that damen doesn't really understand.

which isn't bad or wrong of him, at all! if he did understand more about laurent’s trauma and responses, he’d almost certainly be less confident with initiating intimacy, which is something laurent needs from a partner. it's a lot harder when they're both completely terrified (which damen is, in a different way, but lesser so.) damen is afraid that laurent will bite his head off because he’s a bitch, not because he’s traumatized. and i think that’s a good place for them to be, at this stage of their relationship.

also, the “suicidal impulses” quip is great.

He felt Laurent subtly give himself up to his hands; yet as with a man closing his eyes on the edge of a cliff, it was an act of continuous tension, not surrender.

yeah

‘Like this?’ ‘Yes.’

“he likes that. do it harder.”

Laurent’s head had dropped forward a little. Damen had no idea what he was doing. He was distantly aware that he had had his hands on Laurent’s body once before, and couldn’t believe it, because it felt so impossible now; yet that moment felt connected to this one, even if only in contrast, his current caution against the unguarded way he had let his hands slide down over Laurent’s wet skin.

damen, meanwhile, has recently developed his own intimacy issues/trauma in book 1. these two are a mess

‘Is it so hard to relax?’ said Damen, quietly.

YEAH. IT IS.

‘You only have to walk outside to see what you’ve accomplished. Those men are yours.’ He didn’t pay attention to the signs, the slight stiffening. ‘Whatever happens tomorrow, you’ve done more than anyone could—’ ‘That’s enough,’ said Laurent, pushing himself away unexpectedly.

damen he’s not stressed bc of the war stuff, he’s stressed bc another human being is showing him physical affection and he actually wants it to be happening

When Laurent turned to face him, his eyes were dark. His lips were parted uncertainly. He had lifted his hand to his own shoulder, as though chasing a ghost touch there. He did not look exactly relaxed, but the movement did look a little easier. As if realising that, Laurent said, almost awkwardly, ‘Thank you.’ And then, in wry acknowledgement: ‘Getting tied up leaves an impression. I didn’t realise being captured was so uncomfortable.’

ohhhhh my god. oh my god. so fucking real, every line is so fucking real. the relief of no longer being touched, being back in control. the fuckin, phantom touch on the shoulder—an assessment of the massage, yes, but also… whose ghost is it? damen isn’t asking that question, but i am, and it’s sad. and then the awkward thanks, and the immediate snarky comment to follow up. it’s just so real.

‘I promise I’ll never tie you to the back of a horse,’ said Laurent. There was a pause in which Laurent’s mordant gaze was on him. ‘That’s right, I’m still captured,’ said Damen.

says the protagonist of the “captive prince” series

‘Your eyes say, “For now,”’ Laurent said. ‘Your eyes have always said, “For now.”’

ohhh this line is juicy. because like, yeah, there’s the melancholy yearning context of the last 10 or so chapters, but before? when they were enemies, when laurent was actively hurting and trying to disempower damen? even then, he never showed laurent submission. and laurent clearly noticed. they make me so crazyyyy

‘If you were a pet, I would have gifted you enough by now to buy out your contract, many times over.’

this is more a flaw in my understanding of the pet system, but is he saying that he’s done damen enough favors that if the favors were monetary he could afford to pay off his contract? that’s my best understanding of the line at this point.

‘I’d still be here,’ said Damen, ‘with you. I told you that I would see this border dispute through to its finish. Do you think I’d go back on my word?’ ‘No,’ said Laurent, almost as if he was realising it for the first time.

they drive me insane. the whole “suffering alone” theme—laurent is realizing that he hasn’t been suffering alone, lately, because damen is intentionally staying by his side. laurent may be great at strategic thinking, but he is so used to being manipulated and abused that he doesn’t even consider that someone could be genuinely devoted to him, as a person.

But I know you don’t like it. I remember how much it maddened you in the palace, to be bound and powerless. I felt yesterday how badly you wanted to hit someone.

another interesting re-contextualization of book 1! although it’s not quite an apology, bc i’m sure laurent was aware of the maddening and was probably like “good. this guy killed my brother”

Damen found he’d moved without realising it, his fingers lifting to touch the bruised edge of Laurent’s jaw. He said, ‘The man who did this to you.’ The words just came out. The warmth of skin under his fingers in that moment took all his attention, before he became aware that Laurent had jerked back and was staring at him, blue eyes huge with pupil. Damen was suddenly aware of how out of control he was—he felt—and called violently on his faculties to try to put a stop to—this. ‘I’m sorry. I . . . know better than that.’

“i know better than that” is an INSANE thing for him to say here, by the way. they’re both so compelled by each other and afraid of each other. the amount of work pacat has put into their arc/characterization so far means that scenes like these can have something going on between every single line. honestly i think there’s more going on here off the page, than there is on it

‘No. Wait. I . . . wait.’ Damen stopped, and turned. Laurent’s gaze was edged with indecipherable emotion, and his jaw was set at a new angle. The silence stretched out for such a long time that the words, when they came, were a shock. ‘What Govart said about my brother and I . . . it wasn’t true.’ ‘I never thought it was,’ said Damen, uneasily. ‘I mean that whatever . . . whatever taint exists in my family, Auguste was free of it.’ ‘Taint?’

fascinated by the possible reasons for laurent to say this, in this moment. he uses it on the page to then say that damen is a good and honorable person like auguste, so that’s the easy answer. but if he was just experiencing some ptsd flashbacks, i wonder if this is also something of a grounding statement for himself. because we know who he’s referring to, when he’s talking about bad people on his family tree. it’s almost like he’s trying to figure out how to frame this situation, more for himself than damen—laurent feels protected and cared for in this moment, and the last time he allowed himself to feel that way after auguste’s death, his uncle had taken advantage. so of course he’s picturing his uncle. but this statement, a reminder to himself that damen is more like auguste than the regent, and auguste would have never done anything with laurent in the way the regent had… augh. laurent your brain.

‘I wanted to tell you that, because you,’ said Laurent, as though he was forcing the words out, ‘You remind me of him. He was the best man I have ever known. You deserve to know that, as you deserve at least a fair . . . In Arles, I treated you with malice and cruelty. I will not insult you by attempting to atone for deeds with words, but I would not treat you that way again. I was angry. Angry, that isn’t the word.’ It was bitten off; a jagged silence followed.

this is a laurent apology! no “sorry” necessary. and he’s the closest to telling damen the truth as he’s ever been, but still he stops himself. i wonder if it’s partially out of shame, for how he treated damen. a refusal to make an excuse, because he understands the cruelty of his actions regardless. and of course he has cognitive dissonance to maintain and tactical reasons for keeping the lie going. but still, this is honest.

Then, with a return to his more usual tone, ‘And you don’t need to take watch,’ said Laurent. ‘You sleep prudently.’

of course he can’t just say, like, “sleep well” or “good night.” prudently means carefully, or in good judgment… so like, he’d wake up if something dangerous happened? laurent trusts that? i can’t tell if the statement is an observation or a command. it’s either, “[i want you to] sleep mindfully” or “you sleep mindfully [so you don’t need to stay awake on watch].” hmmm

Damen searched his face, but found nothing in it that he could read, which, he supposed, as he lifted his hands to the laces of his own jacket, was typical.

buddy there is so much subtext going on here it’s okay just get some rest

[helplessautomaton]

heey, how are you? I'm happy about the event!! I'd like to request Chuuya x f!reader (or gn reader) with the prompts 10 and 5 take care of yourself and thank you in advance <3

10 ( “i..i promise there is nothing in the candy.”) + 5 (“you're my only reason im doing this”)

hi anon! doing well, i am too, im really exciting to being doing one of these and each request makes me really happy! hopefully i didnt make him too OOC, i tried my best with chuuya

-WC 770 // valentines event open!! tws: kidnapping, drugging

Slow days always seem to bother you but it was somewhat interesting today. You didn't want to push your luck with whatever and whoever, so you just choose to relax. The Port Mafia didn't take Valentine's seriously so you continued working as usual. You took your time doing paperwork, occasionally looking back at the clock. Thinking of things to do when you go home, probably treat yourself while binge watching another boring show for fun. Could go out on your own and do your ownself café date while just walking around and buying whatever catches your tastes. While in your mind-strucken daydreams a knock sounded from your door, pounding a little harder when you didn't respond the first time.

Finally snapping back, you called in whoever was knocking at your door. The door opened delicately and your higher up, Chuuya was walking into your room. You straighten up and recollect yourself in respect. Giving a smile you greet him, while nervously waiting to see what he's here for. His eyes quickly landed on you and started walking towards your desk. He was clear on what he wanted, asking you out for the evening, you squeezed your hand as you accepted his invitation. "Be there at 5 pm."

Slow days always seem to bother you, but, at least you have something to look forward to. It was still nerve-wracking since it was Chuuya of all people. Gently tapping your desk while looking at the clock. You're on friendly terms with Chuuya, talking for long periods if youre allowed. He's considerate towards you and seemingly kinder. He is always just.. there when you're around. You let these thoughts go easily, you should be getting ready after all. Putting the paperwork you've done to the side, you get up and get ready to leave, the nervousness still not leaving you. 

You tried to look your best, shaking off some self doubt, he's gonna be fine with how you look. deciding to leave just a bit early just in case of setbacks. Finally you reach the restaurant Chuuya told you about. nodding at the waiters politely when you found out Chuuya was already there. Walking towards him, his head perked up to see you, giving a gentle but anxious smile at him. He greeted you back just as politely, the date going well and you started to notice he stared for too long. The questions always led back to you. Was anyone bothering you? Has anyone hurt you? He must've also caught on about his odd questioning and cut back on it. Something was clearly off which made you start thinking back but you tried not to worry too badly. The date came to a close, but before you could get up Chuuya gently grabbed your hand. Gifting you some chocolates, they were open slightly. "My apologies, I didn't want you to struggle with opening them."

You continued onwards, the chocolates were fancy but looked normal. You started to chew and noticed the taste but you blamed it on the unfamiliar brand. However you couldn't help but ask what was in them despite your third consumption.

"I..I promise there's nothing in the candy." You froze, there was something in the candy and you could already feel the lag in your movements. Starting to panic, you tried to get up but Chuuya was already helping you up. Started shushing you while your consciousness was rapidly dwindling. 

You woke up drowsy, seeing double while moving slowly, everything was delayed. The nausea was overwhelming so you continued to try to stay still while everything swirled around you. Calming down, you noted your surroundings, you were on a bed, everything around you looked nice and expensive. "It's a precaution but I'm still sorry it had to happen this way." 

You tried to lift up your head gently to look up at the voice that spoke up. You didn't want to yell incase of feeling worse, your glare held anger and confusion. It bothered Chuuya, but he brushed it off as shock. "Look I know this is bad but-"

You didn't let him continue as you started shooting questions at him while also not letting him continue. Obviously this pissed him off a little, "you're my only reason im doing this!, I hate seeing you getting hurt so now you belong here."

His tone was firm yet he held back from yelling, it still got you to quiet down. The hatred in your eyes was still sharp, you did start calming down then the realization dawned on you. There's a good chance you weren't gonna leave this place.

[cfs-melkire]

FFXIV: WoL, OC, and Roleplay

Since there were some questions and confusion in tags, I figured that an educational/informative post like this might be helpful for some folks, so I'm going to break a few things down for those who might be unfamiliar.

Namely, we're going to get into what "Warrior of Light" means to different people, what "OC" means in the FFXIV context, and what "roleplay" means to different people (and why those distinctions exist).

Since this is going to be a long post, click the "Read Below" for more under the cut!

Warriors of Light

"Warrior of Light," in general, refers to the main protagonist of the critically acclaimed hit MMORPG, Final Fantasy XIV. Lore fanatics will know that this title once saw more widespread use in-setting (to refer to the Twelvesblades but also to historical heroes in general), but put that aside for now. WoL - Warrior of Light for short, in handy acronym format - is the main character, the hero, the person you play as. You even see the XIV devs (Yoshi P & everyone at CBU3) refer to the players themselves this way, as Warriors of Light.

FFXIV takes a different approach from other MMORPGs by making the story centered around a specific individual: you, as the WoL. This shift really kicks into gear towards the end of A Realm Reborn (2.0), as prior to that, you were just one of many adventurers in the realm of Eorzea (unless you were a 1.0/1.x player; again, set that aside for now). But starting with Operation Archon, your character starts taking center stage in terms of global affairs. By the time you're into Heavensward content, the story of the Scions is, fundamentally, your story: the Warrior of Light's story.

This creates an interesting situation in which players have a shared experience with different takes on how the main character did, should have, and or would have act, acted, react, or reacted. Part of that has to do with our differing selections on race and gender for our characters. Part of that has to do with us projecting our own thoughts and feelings onto the WoL, in effect playing the game as our own self-insert of sorts! Observant newcomers may have noticed that the game progressively gives you more and more dialogue options the further along you get; we had very few of them in ARR and HW compared to later expansions! That has been a good change, and it's really helped players to see how a story could take different twists and turns depending on what kind of person would be at the helm of making those decisions as the main character.

As a result, we've seen a lot of prompts crop up on social media - on Twitter, here on tumblr, even on Reddit - about how people's characters differ from one another. How would YOUR Warrior of Light react, what would THEY have done, but also: what was their childhood like? What do they do for fun? Who do they get along with best? So on and so forth, all sorts of questions. Anyone who's ever been in fandom for any length of time knows that these kinds of questions, these sorts of hypotheticals, are very fun to explore. We've been doing this since we were kids! "Oh but what if this happened instead in my favorite film/show/story?" It's our imagination at work, and it feels great to turn something over in our heads like that.

On Twitter, mainly, these prompts came to be referred to as "WoL prompts" and were often tagged something like "wolqotd" (Question of the Day). But as folks have been fleeing Twitter in droves lately thanks to a certain billionaire manchild being grossly incompetent and generally unsafe, there's been a lot of cross-pollination between social media platforms. Since tumblr has had a historically different approach to FFXIV prompts and our FFXIV friends from Twitter seem to have developed a blindspot, I posted a well-intentioned blurb about how, and I paraphrase, "not all OCs are WoLs."

There was some mild confusion on that point, which brings us to this post. I'm gonna help clear that up right now.

Original Characters

Most of us have probably seen, at least once on the internet, some form of the phrase "OC do not steal" (often humorously misspelled as the meme "OC donut steel"). An OC - short for "original character" - is a common concept in fandom. In fandom specifically, it generally refers to any character that a fan has created for their own use, whether that use be for artistic expression, drawing doodles, writing short stories (read: fanfiction), etc. The character is original, meaning they're not part of the established setting or lore as produced and put out into the world by the makers of the show/series/novel/game/what-have-you, and the character is unique, meaning the character itself (their personality, their history, etc.) is specific to that fan and they're not just Pidgey #2761 caught on Route 1 in the years since 1998 by one out of millions of kids with no other discernible traits, features, or background details.

In the FFXIV context, OC refers to any original character made or created by a fan or player. Often (but not always) this takes the form of their playable avatar, the character they sign into the game with and play as. But there's a context, a MMORPG-specific context, in which "OC" means something more specific to folks in the FFXIV community. The best way I can explain that other meaning is to walk you through the thought process, but in short, a FFXIV OC is a character who is NOT the main character you play through the events of the game as, but rather a character who inhabits the setting and has their own life full of adventures & misadventures, with their own story to tell.

The thought process goes a little something like this: I'm really having fun with FFXIV, but I'm getting real bored of my character. Maybe I'll fantasia them. You know what, I'm tired of seeing what my Warrior of Light gets up to. I'm more curious about what the average person deals with. There's all these monsters out there beyond the city limits! How does anyone get anything done? Maybe they need, like, caravan guards. Yeah, that's cool... but what about Lalafell? They're so small compared to other people, but they get by fine. Hmmm, let me go back to the character selection screen and fantasia into a Lalafell. I'll make something really cool and cute looking. Now, where would they be from? I see a lot of them in Ul'dah, a few in Limsa... you know what, I don't see a lot of them in Gridania or the Shroud. It'd be really interesting to learn how a Lalafell ended up living there. Yeah, let's do that! Fantasia's done, now to find them some day-to-day clothes to wear. I wonder, if they're a caravan guard, where'd they pick up their fighting skills? Are they an archer or a mage? Did their family help them get into a guild? Hmmm.

On and on it goes, in this very manner, with all sorts of characters and stories. This is a FFXIV OC, and even though the player will be progressing through this game with their new Lalafell, they're not really viewing this character (or whatever race they might choose, e.g. Roegadyn or Elezen) as the Warrior of Light. Sure, they'll play to see what the Warrior of Light experiences, but there's a distinction in the player's mind: this is Toro Tororo, of Gridania, they sometimes sign up as a guard to make money but on most days they help out their family at the botanists' guild. They've never once seen or fought a primal.

This is, fundamentally, an MMORPG OC, just specific to FFXIV. This is very much the exact line of thinking that gave us Dungeons & Dragons and other tabletop RPGs! Someone was playing war games, said to themselves, "I really don't care about Napoleon or whichever general I am as I move these armies around, I really want to more about THIS soldier here, this guy, what's THEIR story?" and pointed at a single figurine of an infantryman standing alongside identically uniformed troops (thank you to Dave Arneson and his players). The full story is a bit more complicated than that, but the process itself is central to a lot of our own musings about tales and stories that we then spin out into our own creations.

But who plays FFXIV like this? Who goes through all of that effort to NOT be in the shoes of the WoL, and why?

In short: roleplayers.

Roleplay

Let's get the giggling out of the way. You've probably seen ERP referenced - short for "erotic roleplay" - and that has a long history that spiraled out of playing pretend in the bedroom & early internet chatrooms. But no matter what big streamers or people on Aether datacenter might tell you (I'm looking at you, Gilgamesh), that's not what most people mean when they talk about roleplay. ERP is only a very small facet of roleplay in general, the same way the horror-thriller genre is only one genre among many genres of film.

Roleplay is, fundamentally, writing in a collaborative setting where one or more writers act out the parts of one or more characters and make decisions for them.

You've seen this a lot, and have probably roleplayed without realizing it. Constructing a castle made out of Legos and having the knights fight each other, or setting up Barbie and Ken at the pool for a relaxing day and some barbeque, is roleplaying. You and a friend grabbing notebooks and writing out stories or drawing comics about your favorite characters from a popular series is roleplaying. Sitting around a table and playing Dungeons & Dragons is roleplaying, even if you're not doing character voices like the folks on Critical Role. Exchanging prompts about your WoL on social media is roleplaying.

Roleplaying within the actual game of Final Fantasy XIV is an extension of the above! Some folks really like to use the tools that MMORPGs gives them - character models, emotes, a chat box - to visually play out stories about all sorts of characters. FFXIV is particularly well-suited to this due to some crazy quality-of-life features, like target tracking (not only your character's head but their eyes move to follow whoever you target), multiple idle poses, an enormous range of emotes, being able to sit or lay down on furniture, etc. So when Felicia signs in on Toro Tororo, exits Gridania, and mounts up on their chocobo to head down to Bentbranch Meadows to meet her fellow player, Diego, who's on Heuloix Durendaire in order for Toro to sign up for the latest caravan down to Highbridge in Thanalan... that's roleplay!

There's such a breadth of stories to explore in any fictional setting, and FFXIV is no exception in that regard. It's often easier to make an OC who isn't saddled with the WoL's baggage in order to explore stories like this. Maybe someone wants to roleplay an Allagan who just woke up after being on stasis for 3,000 years. Or maybe someone else wants to play a Roegadyn pirate out on the open seas, and they put into port in places like Limsa and Kugane. Maybe Rockfist and Deathstaff want to host a fighting tournament to figure out who's the baddest of the bunch, or maybe the hardworkin' Miqo'te fellow wants to head into the Goblet for the evening to find a nice restaurant for a good meal and a nice drink, and maybe avoid being pressed for conversation by anyone other than the wait staff and that bartender who used to be their childhood friend.

Roleplayers make OCs to explore settings via collaborative writing, and often times those OCs aren't WoLs.

And sometimes they are!

And sometimes people roleplay via prompts or over Discord/messaging rather than in-game!

All valid. All good.

I could go on ad nauseum, but that just about covers it. If there are questions, please ask. In comments, in tags, via Asks, etc. I'll try to answer... or point folks to people who can provide better answers than I can.

Thanks for reading!

[entertext]

HGSN 21-1

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

P1

(sfx: cicada calls: kumazemi)

(sfx: cicada calls: higurashi)

P2

(txt: smaller grave marker labeled "Caw-tarou" in childish handwriting)

(txt: bread wrapper labeled "Cream pan")

Yoshiki: Sorry this is all there is

Yoshiki: As long as he's around, no one will hold a funeral for you...

P3

Yoshiki: But, if he's here, I can go without forgetting you, so I'm glad

Yoshiki: 'cause that's...what scares me...the most...

Hikaru: Whoa

Hikaru: So you were here? Brings me back...

Hikaru: We used to always play here back then right?

Hikaru: Ah, look at this

P4

(txt: "Start→" written in childish handwriting)

Hikaru: The Super Maruo stage I made. The one you played with your finger while making "pwing" noises and stuff.

Yoshiki: Yeah

Hikaru: ...

P5

Hikaru: Hey...what are the differences between me and Hikaru?

Yoshiki: You're completely different...

Yoshiki: He'd read the room more than you do, he was more mature...

Yoshiki: And he was harder to understand

Yoshiki: He was more of a rascal. He'd tell lies, and he could be pretty wily.

Yoshiki: And...

Yoshiki: he'll definitely never come back. So you're different.

Hikaru: ...

Hikaru: ...did you 'like' him?

P6

Yoshiki: ...why?

Hikaru: No...it's nothing, just...

Hikaru: 'cause

Hikaru: Before, you looked away after seeing my bare chest...

Hikaru: And like...

Hikaru: I was just wondering... why...

Yoshiki: ...I don't want to say

Hikaru: ...why?

P7

Yoshiki: ...Now, even if I look at your body, I don't feel anything in particular anymore

Yoshiki: ...And also...when it comes to these feelings

Yoshiki: I think its fine if you don't understand them

P8

Hikaru: ...what's with that?

Hikaru: ...It's true that they're...not something I have. Those feelings...

Hikaru: Compared to humans, on a fundamental level,

Hikaru: I'm totally different, I guess

Yoshiki: There are things we have that only we have

Yoshiki: Also...

Yoshiki: You don't need to turn into a human or anything

P9

Hikaru: Huh..?

Yoshiki: In fact, please don't ever become anything like a human

(sfx: grab)

Hikaru: Hey!

Hikaru: Sure...?

P10

Yoshiki: (He's a being different from us in every way)

Yoshiki: (There's no way we could come to terms with each other on every point)

Yoshiki (That said, given that he's here)

Yoshiki: (it still doesn't make it okay for him to kill people, but...)

Yoshiki: (Rather than forcing him to fit in with humans)

Yoshiki: (if there was a place where he could live as himself instead...)

P11

Yoshiki: (For that, I'd...)

Yoshiki: (give everything...)

(sfx: cicada calls: kumazemi)

(sfx: cicada calls: higurashi)

--

(sfx: marker on paper)

==

Next chapter: 2023/09/19

Twitter Extras (link):

'Hikaru's vocabulary is limited, so he'll say "like", but it differs from what humans mean by "like".

Why do dogs dig holes?

Why do cats sharpen their claws?

Just as humans can't understand these intrinsically, 'Hikaru's "like" may also not be understandable to humans.

==

T/N:

Regarding the cicada sounds in Japanese:

- Up until now, cicadas cries in HGSN have been represented with the sound "shawa shawa shawa"

- This is likely to represent the cry of the kumazemi (Cryptotympana facilis) which is very common in Western Japan and associated with summer: video sample

- In this chapter although there are still some "shawa shawa shawa" cries in the background, the largest cries are "kana kana kana" instead

- This is likely to represent the cry of the higurashi (Tanna japonensis) which is associated with late summer/autumn, and is thought to have a melancholy or lonely sound: video sample

By the way, in the final frame, we can see the word Nounuki partially obscured and the name Matsuyama, as well as an unfamiliar proper noun circled in the center. I expect next chapter to give more context and a full image for the chart in the final frame.

[ynit-a]

𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐂 𝟖 | jkk

orphic | jjk x m!oc

𝟖 | 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑

"I see the light in you

The wind rustled through the trees on the school campus, carrying with it an air of freshness that contrasted with the uneasiness Soren felt inside. The sky was a clear blue, and the sun shone bright enough to warm the skin, but not so much as to be bothersome. Everything seemed strangely peaceful in this place, as if the chaos of curses and cursed energy he had discovered days ago did not exist here. But Soren knew better than anyone that this tranquility was only the surface.

He walked alongside Gojo, who led the way with his usual carefree attitude. He kept his hands in his pockets and hummed an unfamiliar tune, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. To Soren, this lightness was disconcerting, but also, in a way, comforting. After all, if someone as powerful as Gojo could walk around this relaxed, perhaps there was some hope for him as well, even if he wasn’t equal in terms of strength.

—So, how do you feel now that you’re standing?— Gojo suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Soren glanced at him, thinking of all the possible answers. He could tell him that he was confused, scared, and that he felt some sort of emptiness that he couldn't explain. Or that he still wasn't sure if this was all real or some sort of strange dream. But instead, what came out was much simpler.

—A little better… I think.

Gojo smiled, as if that answer was exactly what he expected. —I'm glad to hear that! Because what I'm going to show you today is quite important. The cursed energy, your great friend… —Gojo paused dramatically, raising a hand as if he were presenting something grand—…is what will keep you alive in this world.

Soren let out a sigh, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He'd heard a bit about cursed energy the last few days thanks to the man, but the idea of ​​something so volatile and dangerous residing within him… Well, he still hadn't quite digested it. —What if… I can't control it? —he asked quietly, almost not wanting to say it out loud.

Gojo paused for a second, turning to him with a softer smile than usual. Soren noticed that, although Gojo always seemed relaxed, there were times(not many he noted) when he could feel the gravity of what he said, and this was one of those times. —Don't worry so much —Gojo said, putting a hand on his shoulder—. We all start like this, Soren

Soren raised an eyebrow, if there was something he also noticed from the man is his overconfidence—You didn't start like this, did you?— Gojo simply smiled, deciding to ignore him —The important thing is that you're here, and that you have someone who will help you learn. You're not alone in this.

Soren looked at the ground for a moment, processing those words. Gojo was right, although admitting it was difficult for him. All his life, he had been struggling alone, feeling that something dark was following him, something he never understood. Now, however, there was a chance that he could understand it, that he could control it. That idea, although terrifying, also brought with it a spark of hope.

—Well, since you have no excuses to run away, let’s get started!— Gojo suddenly exclaimed, breaking the brief moment of introspection.

Soren barely had time to process what he said before Gojo started walking again, this time leading him towards a more secluded part of the campus. It was an open clearing, surrounded by tall trees that provided shade. Gojo stopped in the middle, turning to Soren.

—What we’re going to do is simple, at least in theory,— Gojo said, with a mischievous grin. —I want you to try and feel your cursed energy. Don’t force it, just feel it.

Soren looked at him in disbelief. —Just… feel it?

Gojo nodded enthusiastically. —Exactly. Like when you know you’re going to get hungry in an hour or that someone is about to call you when they shouldn’t. It’s a sixth sense, but one you have to learn to recognize.

Soren closed his eyes, trying to do what Gojo had told him. He concentrated, breathing deeply, trying to push aside the thoughts of confusion and fear that kept crowding his mind. For a few moments, all he could feel was the pounding of his heart and the sound of his own footsteps as he moved nervously. But then, slowly, a different feeling began to form in his chest. Something warm, something that wasn’t there before, but had always been there.

—That’s it,— Gojo murmured from somewhere nearby. —Now, don’t let it go. Hold it, feel it.

Soren squeezed his eyes shut tighter, but the sheer effort made the feeling fade away like a dream upon awakening. He snapped his eyes open, panting slightly. —I couldn’t,— he admitted, frustrated.

Gojo laughed softly. —Hey, it's okay. I didn’t tell you you’d get it on the first try. The trick is not to force it. Just flow. And if all else fails, you always have the option of befriending an experienced sorcerer like me,— he said with an exaggerated bow.

Soren couldn’t help but crack a smile, albeit a small one. It was hard to stay serious when Gojo was constantly cracking jokes and downplaying everything like it was no big deal. But deep down, Soren knew that this laid-back attitude was a way to help him, to make him not feel so out of place.

—Are you always this… annoying?— Soren asked, with a sarcastic smile. Gojo let out a laugh. —Only with the ones I like. You’re lucky!

Soren shook his head. —How lucky I must be to end up with someone like you,— he said with some sarcasm, but he couldn’t help but feel a slight warmth inside him. There was something about the way Gojo handled things that made the weight of all this feel less oppressive. For the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he could do something right. That he wasn't completely lost.

—You know?— Gojo said, looking at him with a more serious expression for a moment. —There's a reason I'm here, helping you. I don't butt into just anyone's life, Soren. I saw you that day, and I know you have a power within you that's worth it. You're not a lost cause, trust me. You can do this.

Gojo's words struck deep into Soren's chest. He'd spent so long feeling like a burden, a person who only caused trouble, that hearing that from someone like Gojo nearly disarmed him completely. But instead of letting the emotions overwhelm him, he took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

—Thank you,— he said, sensing the sincerity in his own words. Soren looked at Gojo, swallowing hard as he continued speaking, this time somewhat shyly. —I'm not used to… this,— his voice barely a whisper. —To have someone who believes I can do something.

Gojo smiled again, this time softer, and patted him on the back. —Don’t worry. You’re going to do amazing things, I know it.

Soren looked down at the ground, feeling that spark of hope burn a little bit stronger inside him. But along with that hope, there was also fear. He still didn’t know how to control his cursed energy, he still didn’t know if he would be able to do anything more than cause trouble. And above all, he thought about his mother. About her fragile body, about how much she had already suffered for him.

Am I going to make her proud? he thought as his mind wandered to the last image he had of her, bedridden, fighting her own curse. Or am I just going to add another worry to his life?

That doubt tormented him, but along with it, there was something else. A small spark of hope, now growing thanks to Gojo. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to control what was inside him. And maybe, for the first time, he could do something right.

Either way, he had decided he wasn't going to give up. Not yet.

This story with more graphics is on wattpad, go check it out if you want!

Wattpad: ynit_a

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[drivingsideways]

Year-end discussion in the Indian film space was dominated by the success of controversial film maker Sandeep Reddy Vanga's latest offering of undiluted misogyny and rage, appropriately titled "Animal"; but the best commentary I've seen on failed fatherhood and violent, toxic masculinity this year comes in a 2 minute scene in Kaathal: The Core, where a wizened old man testifies quietly in a family court that yes, he always knew that his son is gay, and still coerced him into a heterosexual marriage.

Kaathal: The Core isn't a film without flaws; one could argue that it's the quintessential film made about queer people by straight allies- actually more interested in the reaction to queerness and the adjustment to queerness by cishets, than in queer lives; that it has a one dimensional view of the reality of queer living in India. It has its moments of what I call "educational speechifying" that feel tonally at odds with the rest of it, but again, this paternalism in Indian cinema of the self-consciously "progressive" variety isn't unfamiliar.

The ending feels a little trite, and some artistic choices- an actual rainbow in the sky appears as the two lovers drive off into the sunset of their newly liberated lives-feel particularly anvil-like- much like the ending of another of director Jeo Baby's films, The Great Indian Kitchen, which was an exploration of the brutality of Indian-flavoured patriarchy. In short: a movie filled with intricately and deliberately placed subtleties that occasionally - somewhat inexplicably-loses confidence in its audience, and chooses to remedy that by being a bit over the top.

But those are minor quibbles. This movie gutted me. The story revolves around a middle-aged closeted gay man from a small close knit village community in Kerala whose life- and the lives of those around him- is thrown into disarray when his wife of twenty years files for divorce citing his gayness as the reason for the breakdown of the marriage- a step she takes just as he's nominated as his party's candidate for the local elections. With this premise, you'd be forgiven for expecting the movie to be high decibel melodrama- and possibly a tragedy- from start to finish. Instead, it deliberately chooses the quieter route, the most tender one; while not flinching away from the grim realities of widespread homophobia, it portrays both individuals and a community who , in a moment of crisis, discover that they are better than they think they are. And it does this not from a jingoistic, self-congratulatory ethno-nationalist perspective- but from a place of genuine love- as a reminder and a beacon in these dark times.

All of this is anchored in some fantastic performances- Mammootty once more showing up to remind us why he's one of the greatest living actors in the world, and Sudhi Kozhikode as Thankan in what should be a multiple-award winning performance as his long time lover. I've rarely seen an actor make so much of their limited screen time. When I say that minutes 50-52 of this film are the most devastatingly tragic-romantic moments in world cinema, you'll think I'm exaggerating and perhaps I am, but I can also guarantee that you're going to want to rewatch that sequence at least ten times and cry about two old geezers in love. Lives were changed in those moments, no lie.

My one disappointment in terms of performances is Jyothika, playing Omana, the long suffering wife. Omana is one of the stand-outs in the history of female characters in Malayalam cinema, and Jyothika is- barely adequate. When you contrast it with a similar role - say Hsieh Ying -xuan's performance as Liu San-lian in Dear Ex (2018)- the flatness is even more jarring. Still, the sheer love with which her character and her relationships, especially with her husband, are written carry the film through.

Tl;dr: watch it on Amazon Prime or at a theatre near you! You will not regret it.

[imminentinertia]

How to get me to nope the fuck out of a fic part 172: Doing Profanity Wrong

Please don't. I'm begging here. I'll do it Ray style if it helps.

First, let's talk a bit about types of profanity. Just so you know, there will be a bit of vulgar language here (in case that first "fuck" in the title of the post didn't turn you off already).

I'm not going into the functions of profanity, the why we use it and how we use it to achieve our goals for using it, Steven Pinker's The Stuff of Thought is a good starting point for functions if you're interested. What I'm most interested in right now is the what.

The what is often a taboo of some sort, like mocking something sacred, referring to body parts that are considered filthy, fears of invoking dangerous situations like illness or natural disasters. The words used can be grouped into these categories*:

Sex

Religion

Bodily functions

Disease

(Derogatory terms may be considered a function, the why is to cause harm, but it tends to contain terms that don't always belong in the four other categories, and those four tend to bleed into this. I consider it a fifth category of types of words)

Languages and cultures don't use these categories in the same ways. For instance, there's very little left of disease swearing in English ("a pox on you" sounds just a tiny bit outdated, wouldn't you say) but it's alive and kicking in Danish (all word constructions with the word "kraft" refers to cancer, and there are a lot of those constructions). The British Isles and Denmark are pretty close geographically and not enormously different culturally, but the swearing takes different routes.

English uses a hell of a lot of religious profanity. East and South East Asian languages, not so much. There are examples, like mara (まら), a quite rude Japanese word for dick that has its root in the demon Mara (I don't know the precise etymology, but it's possible it has to do with temptation), but it's not anywhere near as prevalent as in Christianity-heavy cultures.

Which means that "for Buddha's sake" does not, I repeat NOT, work as local colour swearing. At. All.

It really is not a problem if you write an English profanity in an English sentence, in your English fic set in a culture that isn't in the Anglosphere. Don't worry about it - the point is that the story needs to flow well, and trying to fit in unfamiliar swearing is likely to end up stiff and awkward.

What you might want to think about is the categories. It's not that E/SE Asians never say "oh my God" or "fuck" in English, we who have other mother tongues often like a bit of English profanity mixed in with our native language, but the patterns for when to swear in English may be different.

So if you pay a bit of attention to how the shows are translated and what swearing choices are made (disregard the bowdlerised translations on fudging IQIYI entirely) and what category the characters seem to use the most, it becomes easier to make the story flow well without anglofying it too much (brimming with "oh my God") or stumbling in asiafying your own language ("oh my Buddha").

Sex and bodily functions tend to be safe bets because there are a number of taboos regarding both in so many cultures they're probably near-universal and only differs in exactly how they're used, but trying to make that super authentic for the source language and culture doesn't necessarily fit well into the language you're writing.

In other words, "shit" and "fuck" and such are likely to work fine for anything.

Also, there are a number of ways to be rude as fuck without uttering a single vulgar word. You can be rude while speaking and acting very politely, even. That's not something that's easy to show in a fic, it's easier to tell it ("he's speaking very politely yet it's the rudest thing she's ever heard"). Not to mention that it's easy to get it wrong when it's a culture you don't know extremely well, so a little vague telling is likely to make your story smoother than a detailed description of a rudeness situation.

The point is that one of the characters is rude to another, and that can be communicated well to the readers in several ways.

*Sources what sources. Actually there are lots of sources, but they tend to leave out disease. This is how I categorise and I'm sure there are researchers who agree with me, somewhere.

[lochrannn]

Sending this ask to a few tua accounts!

Diegolila is probably my favorite ship in the show, but I've been thinking about this a lot lately. What would you change about their relationship in season 4? Obviously they're not in the honeymoon phase anymore, and they have three kids, so I feel like naturally they would go through a rough patch. But what made me sad in season 4 was that none of it got fixed. The five/lila relationship aside, it was weird to see Lila be just completely disconnected from Diego and not come to any realizations about her relationship with him, especially because she IS a deep character and she really does love him. Plus, I don't completely agree with her being a housewife either. It hurts to see them fight and stuff because I feel like they're 2 characters who are really in sync with each other and who make each other better people, but it hurt a lot more when their arcs ended in them basically not really loving each other anymore.

TLDR how would you rewrite their relationship in season 4? Would Lila still be a housewife/Diego a delivery driver? Who would try to fix the relationship first? Why would the relationship go through the rough patch in the first place? Is it because they're both just tired of each other/suburban life/kids? Or is it something else? Would they try to fix it in the first place?

Sorry this is a really long ask, but I love all your tua takes and I feel like they ripped off Diego and Lila in the worst way this season. Would love to know your thoughts.

Sorry, this took me a while to get to but it's an interesting ask!

There is a small issue I'm having though and that's that I'm sort of answering some of that questoin in the fic I'm writing, and, while that might sound self-indulgent, I don't wanna spoil it XD

That being said, I think I can definitely think about some of the specifics you're asking about.

In terms of how, in general, could one do something with the fact that after 6 years and 3 kids with no fun up relationship in which they could have properly got to know each other ahead of time and that probably causes some issues down the road, I had actually started planning out a fic about a year ago and then never wrote it and now won't as I'm using some stuff in the fic I am writing.

My initial plan also included Lila starting to sneak and withdrawing but instead of cheating it turns out she's been drawn in by the commissoin, some alt version of the Handler who has her convinced that the Diego she's living with is not her Diego... listen, I was going to work out the time travel/time line mechanics later, basically I was trying to get to a Mr & Mrs Smith (the movie) style blow out fight that ends with them smooching.

What I'm saying is, with how volitile their relationship has always been, making them not be all functional is a logical step in the story telling, I take no issue with that. But previous precedent had always been that they care enough to try and find a messy way back to being together, that whatever else, that's more important to them, and just taking that completely away is what bugs me most.

Anyway, to your specific questions: there's a lot of people headcanoning Diego as a stay at home dad, and I guess, yeah, possible, but I think he's a bit to feral for that and on that note, so i Lila, so I would have them both have meh jobs that they hate their bosses at and part of what has caused strain on the relationship is that they are both endlessly busy and find no eral time for each other. (Which also leads to a way to resolve this issue in decent communication and them making an effort to be a couple again).

I have in the past written some fics where I immagined them as a family living the suburban life and Lila finding it...trying... but in my head, she would treat it like a mission, do both the best job she can at it, while basically trying as hard as possible to infiltrate every element of this unfamiliar world and then for some shits and giggles, sow some benign chaos.

Diego being Dad with a mustache and too much care for his van and telling people to take their shoes off in his home tracks. I have no notes. Other than the weird bits where they made him say the words claiming he resents this life but then make him good at it and seem pretty happy, I think they nailed Dad Diego. Shame they made him miserable on puprose, but I digress.

I really enjoyed the first four episodes because I was convinced Diego and Lila would both learn something and want to be together again, I don't think that is trite, I think that is how adult relationships go some times. Lila.... well....

Thanks for the ask!

I haven't been posting much about my thoughts on the season because they are quite jumbled and I'm not pushed to go back and watch it again (which is a real fucking shame, but here we are) to try and sort some details out.

What are your thoughts?

[ftmtftm]

Can you talk more about the gacha monetization models? I'm unfamiliar with how that translates to "AI" monetization... Also I'm eager to hear your thoughts on gacha since you say you have had the experience they aim for (a gambling addiction which oh goodness sounds so rough)

Yeah so important context here: I'm an iPhone user talking specifically about AI apps in the iPhone app store. This is important because Apple has very strict policies about the App Store pornographic content.

In the couple of AI apps I've downloaded to mess with and try to understand more, there are usually several different ways to generate pornographic images. That's generally the main draw of these apps - create "free" anime porn. But it's not free, because they need to get around Apple's policies.

The app I've been messing with the most has a very clever (and I think actually kinda cool) work around where to view an image it has read as NSFW it makes you click a consent button, basically confirming you are of legal age and are looking at the image for "artistic or research purposes".

But you only have a certain number of clicks before you have to pay for more, because they can't show you free porn because of the App Store policies. Buying more clicks is pretty expensive (but they're also pretty standard gacha prices when compared), but you get double the clicks if you're a pro subscriber. If you're a pro subscriber you also get unlimited generation and no ads! All for a little over $100. Then once you pay that $100 you can even get lifetime pro for almost $200! No your current pro subscription doesn't count as a credit towards lifetime pro! And that doesn't mean you get to stop paying for clicks to see porn! You still have to buy those!

There's also a chat feature in this app - which I have yet to look into in depth- but for that you have to buy credits that give you 30~60 minutes of chat time with a character bot. You have to pay more for porn.

It also limits the number of generators you can use unless you use a paid currency. Some generators are unlimited with the pro version, but even with pro you have to use the paid currency for others. You also still have to use the separate paid click currency to see any NSFW images you generate with the other, different paid currency, which is also different from the chat paid currency.

It's!! Incredibly fucked!! It's designed to get you to spend money to get pretty pictures in a way that explicitly reminds me of spending thousands of dollars for anime jpgs in high school - but at least those jpgs still served a function in a game. These jpgs are just jpgs that you don't even get to see first without paying for them.

In terms of gacha specifically though - Yeah! I'm a long time rhythm game player and was introduced to gacha through Love Live SIF and I've also played Tokyo 7th Sisters, Cookie Run Kingdom, Genshin, Prosekai, several Im@s games, and a good handful of others that I've also dropped money on (though Tokyo 7th Sisters is my favorite series and I've absolutely spent the most on it). I've genuinely probably spent at least an accumulated $100,000 on gacha over the last decade because all my disposable income in high school and college went to rolling for my best girls. It deeply troubles me when I look back at it! Especially because I still get the itch for it!

The models were bad then and they are genuinely only getting worse now. It's genuinely scary to me !!

[yellowocaballero]

hi! i know that i'm fated to read your every work despite not knowing the media half the time. this time i would like to finally be one step ahead. so uhh. where do i read orv? do i go for the webtoon or the novel? to clarify, i did try to search, but got confused by reddit. also i am going to watch trigun. i've been eyeing animorphs too but the 54 (?) books are making me go hmm. thank you for existing you're pretty great. you're like the spiderman of writing but instead you got asbestos rat'd.

THIS ASK IS INSANE. WE'RE REFERENCING MY LORE NOW?

But thank you, you're insane. People ask why I have stupid high standards for the fics i post on AO3 and it is because there are people like you who will just read whatever regardless of whether or not it's good. I have a responsibility.

This ask also made me wonder if I have good taste. Because every time somebody says this my first reaction is "oh god and the source materials aren't even good". I read a lot of trashy stuff (but, like, define trashy), and I consume too many bad things to be able to say I have discerning taste. If I enjoy something I almost never call it bad, because things were made to be enjoyed and I enjoyed them then they had value in at least one aspect. If you were to ask me if my favorite TV show of all time the Incredible Hulk 1974 was actually, unironically, good, then I'd break into a cold sweat. Is somebody bad because it's camp? Is something bad only if it's unintentional camp?

Regardless, I never write fic for something that isn't only like 80% good - there's a sweet spot of 'good enough for me to obsess over' and 'bad enough that I'm rewriting it in my head'. It's rare I write for anything I find completely good. Which is why I feel bad when people say that they're reading this thing I'm writing fic for jalksdf there's better things out there I SWEAR.

ORV is in the sweet spot of "this isn't high literature" and "this has given me brain worms". Definitely for sure start with the webtoon - the webnovel is clunkily translated, you don't read it for the writing at all, and it is also a literal million words. Don't read the webnovel unless you're like "I'm going insane and I need more of this". It starts off kind of slow ("This is a well executed very banal isekai") and you're like a frog in the pot of it slowly going more insane until you're a ways in and you are in a tangle of ridiculously complicated gambits and convoluted storytelling. There is literally no other way to describe it than the Homestuck of webnovels. If you're completely unfamiliar with isekai that's fine, but as a warning - ORV being your first webtoon/webnovel isekai is like your first shoujo manga being Ouran High Schol Host Club, or your first magical girl show being Madoka, or your first mecha anime to be Neon Genesis Evangelion. It's one of the best works in its genre but it's supposed to be viewed in context of the genre. Or maybe it's more like if Homura starred in Evangelion, which was Ouran. I'm just saying words.

Animorphs is kind of like Mother 3 in which everybody who has ever read/played it said that it changed them as a person, it changed their relationship with media and storytelling forever, if you read/play it you will be born again from the world's egg, etc. Works that genuinely become part of your personality. I also never recommend it to people because it is incredibly hit or miss. I remember using a spreadsheet of just "what books are skippable or not" because some of them are incredibly weird and some of them are incredibly weird in the bad way. The only Animorphs fic I've ever written is from 2019 so it's also not that great. Each book only takes an hour to read and the pdfs are free online, so it's incredibly accessible in terms of the reading experience, but it's kinda the Animorphs gestalt that changes you forever and not the individual books. I try not to recommend stuff that's like 25% bad.

Watch Trigun if you like what Trigun is - it's not going to deliver on something it's not. Also watch 98 first. Watch Stampede/read Trimax if you want more Trigun. The Trigun fic is based off Stampede but refer to my "I only write fic for smth that's 80% good and not 100% good" statement.

Also I think being bit by an asbestos rat just means that I probably have mold and drywall in my lungs, which would explain a lot about this blog. Thanks for the ask I love it.

[lindwurmkai]

Heyooooo

I have a chinese drama question and thought you'd be the perfect one to ask!

I was watching a chinese anime, fantasy historical, as you do, and thought 'hey, if i like this so much maybe I should give one of the tumblr propaganda live action shows a try?'

I just don't know where to start, the one a while back with the demon man with the flute(?) and the very serious looking man in white looked really good! But is a good starter show? And uuuuh what was it called again?

Cheers!

lmao i hope you don't mind me answering this publicly. that would be the untamed! it was the show that kicked off this whole ... thing. for me.

is it good? yes. is it a good starter show? hoo boy how do i even judge that at this point. 😳

i'll say this: you're going to be confused. many characters have 2-3 names, there are some plot holes (mostly as a result of censoring or just things getting cut for length iirc), and there is simply ... a lot going on. personally i went in completely unfamiliar with the genre as well, so stuff went over my head and i didn't know what some terms meant etc.

i can probably dig up some helpful posts tho!

i would also love to recommend some alternatives, but i'm not sure what you're looking for. the major genres or genre groupings i have experience with are, roughly, xianxia (focused on gods/immortals/cultivators whose goal is to become immortal), wuxia (deals with the "martial arts world" a.k.a. jianghu, which i cannot sum up in one sentence but basically it's a little more down to earth, although fantastical elements often exist to varying degrees, and it tends to feature characters living on the fringes of society), and historical/fake-historical stuff that doesn't fall under either of these. court dramas can be surprisingly entertaining if you ask me.

a bit of overlap is not unusual, i think, and then sometimes the plot centers on romance within one of these genres.

so do you want romance? is het romance of interest or would you prefer an "as much queercoding as we can get away with" adaptation of a BL novel instead (like the untamed)? which of the genres sounds most appealing? how much do you mind major character death? (very important question 😂)

i can recommend one or two things set in modern times as well, including the absolute mess (said with love) that is daomu biji (the thing with the graverobbing adventures), but you probably don't want to get into that or you'll be here forever. :P

please answer my riddles three give me some pointers and i'll make a guess at which of my faves you'd like best. or i'll just go looking for those explainer posts about the untamed tomorrow.

[dangraccoon]

Hell's Comin' With Me

Request for @error6gendernotfound

The Bad Batch (post-order 66) & You

“I'm thinking bad batch angst and eventual fluff (bc I have fragile feelings) with 12 and 28 from the prompt list. One of the batch finds something out about the reader (sickness, past coming back to bite them in the ass, idk) and tries to get them to tell the rest of the batch. Tysm!! I love your writing!”

12. “Just…just don’t upset them. Not now.” 28. “Do they know?” “I don’t know how to tell them.”

Summary: It took years to push your past behind you, but when a new mission leads the Bad Batch back to your old stomping grounds, you're forced to confront your past.

Warnings: past abuse, violence, TW: religious trauma/abuse, TW: poor living conditions, revenge, canon-typical explosions, non-canon-typical murder (I believe I got the worst of it, but please, please, let me know if there's something you feel I should add!!!)

Author's Note: @error6gendernotfound, Garden, darling, thank you so so so much for requesting this! It was an incredible journey to write and I'm so glad that this was my first request! I also want to thank all of you for your continued support; it really means the world to me 💛

It had been a long time since I left “home”. The little outer rim moon I was born on was dry, dusty, and dilapidated. It took 18 standard years to get off that damn rock, and I didn’t exactly leave on good terms with the people of my settlement. 

But that didn’t matter; I was off on adventures with a ragtag crew of rogue clones that had taken me in. We all had the same goals: stay away from the empire, and eventually disappear. That was all fine and dandy, until Cid gave us a new mission. 

“You’re goin’ to Vel,” she rasped. “There’s a little village called Tirra where you’ll touch down. Pick up the goods and bring them back here.”

“V-vel?” I stammered, doing everything I could not to look as frazzled as I felt. 

“It is a moon in the outer rim; part of the Regasta system,” Tech informed, barely looking up from his data pad. “It is not the most…advanced society.”

“That’s nice, Goggles, now shut it,” Cid scowled at him. 

The rest of the briefing flew by, and I barely caught anything. We were going to Vel. And worse, we were going to Tirra. 

It had been years since I’d left, and I wanted - no, I needed to keep it that way. I just couldn’t go back. 

“Oh, I forgot,” I mumbled as the Batch and I began making our way to the Marauder. “I have another mission to take care of.” 

The squad stopped in the tracks to look at me. 

“Another mission?” Omega asked, quirking up an eyebrow. I hated that I was lying, especially to her. 

“You didn’t tell us you were taking solos from Cid again,” Echo questioned, obvious concern crossing his face. Kriff, I should’ve known they’d remember that part of my history. 

“Th-that’s because it isn’t for Cid,” I blurted out. Idiot, I thought to myself. 

Hunter stepped toward me now. “You’re going behind Cid’s back?” His voice was full of the skepticism that was shown on his face. “You’re not one to make stupid decisions like that.”

“Tough times,” I said through gritted teeth. 

“Must be,” he replied, stepping away from me, but squinting his eyes a little, the way he usually did while using his other senses. 

He could hear my heart hammering against my ribcage, I know he could. 

“Yours have a deadline?” Hunter asked after what felt like a lifetime. 

“Well, no, but I need to-”

“You need to assist this squad, like you said you would.”

I glanced around at the others, hoping for some hint of support. Most weren’t looking at me, save for Omega, who was showing her usual curious look, only now it was mixed with something unfamiliar. Her family was uncomfortable, and she was certainly picking up on it. 

I could feel the anger rising in my chest, first at the way Hunter was ordering me around, rather than just talking to me, but then it was mainly as a defense mechanism; I was scared but I couldn’t- no, I wouldn’t show that. Not to them. 

“Fine,” I spat, hating the feel of venom on my tongue as I brushed past all of them to board the ship. 

The entire journey through hyperspace would take nearly a week, and about four days in, I had hardly said a word to anyone that wasn’t Omega. I couldn’t deny her my attention; she was simply too sweet. 

“Why don’t you want to go to Vel?” she asked one day, having just entered the gunner's-nest-turned-bedroom, that she liked to let me sit in when I needed to be away from her brothers. 

I didn’t know what to say aside from the truth. Omega was fairly mature for her age, but she was naive and innocent and still a child. I couldn’t lie to her.

“Because I was born there. I was born in Tirra, on Vel.” The words felt like gravel pouring out of my mouth, rough, jagged, difficult, but once they were out, once that fact was fully revealed, I did feel lighter. 

“What?” Omega nearly shouted, causing me to wince. “That’s amazing! You’ll be able to show us around, and we can meet your family and see where you grew up!”

I shuddered at the thought, and Omega, observant to a fault, noticed. 

“Aren’t you excited to go home?” she wondered, the excited smile beginning to fade from her face. 

“I…wouldn’t exactly call it ‘home’,” I started, feeling, but not becoming fully aware of the way my fist clenched, pressing my fingernails into the meat of my palms. 

Omega didn’t respond, just scooted closer to my side. 

I took a deep breath. I’d gotten this far, I might as well tell her the rest. 

“I didn’t have the best childhood,” I explained. “My parents died not too long after I was born, so I was sent to an orphanage - um, that’s a place where they take care of all the kids who don’t have any family anymore.

“It was bad; everything was dirty, the beds, the rooms, the clothes, us. And the food was worse than ration bars, when there was any. The grown-ups in charge claimed to be righteous, holy people, but they didn’t care about us. Some kind-hearted people would give money to try and help us, but it would just go right into his pockets.

“When I was a few years older than you are now, he noticed me. He’d hold me up as this example of a disgusting sinner even though I never did anything wrong. He had this…this power over people, and even though I was just a kid, they believed him.

“18 long years of being beaten and spat upon by the people of that town. I had enough. I told that man that I was leaving and he had the town stone me and he banished me from ever returning. I went to Indus, the capital of the whole moon, because finally I was old enough to book passage off-world for myself.”

Omega was quiet for a long time after my shaky words had tapered off. Silent tears were rolling down both of our faces, something I worried Hunter could sense. 

“Do they know?” she asked, the sorrow evident in her voice. She was such an empathetic child and the weight of the guilt I felt for unloading on her like I had? It was suffocating. 

“No, Omega,” I answered. “I don’t know how to tell them.”

“But they can help,” she scowled at the floor, her belief in her brothers shining through. “They can protect you.”

I took another breath. “I know you trust your brothers, and I trust them too, but I don’t think they trust me. I don’t think they even really like me.” I left out the part of how they probably only tolerated me because of my skill set and Omega’s affection for me.

“They do like you!” Omega protested, having no intention of allowing the idea that her friend and her family weren’t friends as well. 

“Omega-”

“I’m sure they trust you. You should trust them.”

Omega left me on my own, climbing down the ladder. 

“I wish I could,” I whispered to the streaking lights of hyperspace racing past in the window. 

Day six was finally coming to an end. I needed to get off of this ship, even if that meant stepping foot in Tirra again. 

The moments before I’d left for Indus were replaying constantly in my mind. The way the townsfolk had cornered me, hurtling rocks, bricks, insults. What I’d told them, my rage taking over my brain in the moment. 

I shook my head. None of that mattered right now. There was a mission to complete. 

“Entering the atmosphere,” Tech called from the cockpit. 

I could feel my nerves rising again, and I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe calmly. 

We touched down without incident, kicking up a few swirls of dust. Some of the townspeople walking around looked towards us, but ultimately decided to mind their own business. 

As we all stepped off the ship, taking in our surroundings, Omega appeared beside me, pulling at my sleeve so I’d bend down towards her. 

“Did you tell them?” she whispered as softly as she could, side eyeing Hunter. 

I shook my head. Hunter was watching us, suspicion across his face. 

Omega scowled at me a little, which despite causing a bubble of guilt to rise into my chest, did little to make me want to talk to her brothers. 

“You should tell them,” she said, walking away from me to go ask Tech questions about the moon. 

“Tell us what?” Echo asked, suddenly right behind me. 

“It’s nothing,” I muttered. I started to walk away, but he grabbed my arm. 

The look on his face was heartbreaking; he was so worried about me. “Taking jobs from someone other than Cid? Keeping secrets? It’s not like you.”

Part of me felt touched. He was right, the lies I’d been telling weren’t like me. I preferred to be somewhat of an open book to those around me, especially those I trusted, like the Bad Batch. 

“I know, and I want to tell you, it’s just…really hard,” I breathed, the tiniest bit of relief dripping into my brain. At least that wasn’t another lie. 

Echo didn’t reply, but his expression of worry didn’t disappear either. 

We set out to the rendezvous point where we’d meet with Cid’s contact, walking the edge of the town. 

Wait, the edge of town?

“We have to stop,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Four helmeted heads turned back towards me. I could see the confusion on Omega’s face, but I could practically feel it on the rest of them. 

“This is the fastest route to the rendezvous,” Tech explained, lifting his data pad to my view. 

“I know, but if we go this way then we’ll-”

I clamped my mouth shut. Damnit.

“‘We’ll’ what?” Hunter pressed. I could tell he was fed up with my antics. 

I could feel myself shaking and my heart hammering in my chest. I opened my mouth, hoping that more explanation would come tumbling out, but nothing did. 

Omega stepped towards me, taking my hand in hers. She beamed up at me, her smile supportive as she nodded. 

I took a long, deep, shaking breath in and out. “If we go this way, we’ll have to pass the preacher’s house. If he’s there, and he sees us, he will start trouble. That’s not trouble you want. If we double back and take the main road, the townsfolk will alert him to our presence if they didn’t already when we landed. We need to go up into the woods along the northern side of town. The woods are thick, but easy to navigate. It’ll take a little extra time, so we’ll have to pick up the pace.”

There were four sets of eyes on me, and even though I could only see Tech’s, I knew they all reflected the same thing; full confusion. 

They looked between me, Omega - who was smiling kindly at me, hand still in mine - and each other. 

Omega, with a slightly irritated tone I’d rarely heard from her, tugged at my hand. “We have to go quickly, right?”

I nodded.

“Lead the way,” she smiled again. A took a deep breath, eyes scanning her brothers’ helmets again, before putting on what I hoped was a determined expression, and turning to lead the group on the alternative route. 

Omega eventually let go of my hand as we walked, giving it a supportive squeeze before she did. 

As I’d told them, the woods were thick, but I knew them well. 

“You going to tell us how you know so much about this place?” Hunter asked slightly behind me.

“That is simple; this is where they were raised as a child,” Tech called from the back of the group. I froze in my tracks, the rest of the group stopping behind me.

“This is your home?” Wrecker asked, lifting his helmet to look at me. My mouth formed a tight line as I fought the tears threatening to pour down my cheeks.

“This is where they were born,” Tech corrected. “However, given the lengths they have gone to trying to avoid this very conversation, I would say their memories of living here are rather unpleasant.”

Echo stepped towards me, lifting his helmet from his head. “Is that true?” 

He placed a gentle touch on my shoulder and I was done for. A few tears slipped down my cheeks and Echo’s expression softened. 

No. No, we had a mission. I couldn’t do this right now.

I pulled away from Echo, turning my face.

“We’ll be late if we don’t get going,” I explained, beginning to continue our trek, walking briskly.

The rest of the mission blurred by without incident. Wrecker heaved the cargo container up from the ground, and Tech turned to me. “Shall we return the way we came?” 

I nodded, unable to really say anything. My nerves were still keyed up, and I had a terrible feeling in my gut. My fists clenched into tight balls as we began our walk back to the ship.

The walk back was uneventful, Tech occasionally looking over his shoulder at me to confirm that we were still on the right path.

“Stop,” Hunter ordered as the town started to come into view.

He pulled a pair of binocs out, looking over the town square we’d have to pass through.

He grunted, passing the binocs to Tech and Echo. 

“It’s a trap,” Echo concluded.

“Someone’s not happy we’re here,” Hunter agreed.

“Perhaps it is the religious figure you mentioned before,” Tech added, turning to look at me. The rest of the group’s eyes fell on me as well.

“I don’t know your history with this place, or with this preacher, but you need to tell us what we’re walking into,” Hunter said, his voice quiet. There was less bite in it than there had been before.

“He- He’s powerful. He’s got some kind of dark magic.”

“Like the Sith the Jedi would mention during the war?” Echo asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. He’s never had one of those weapons they all have.”

“What’s his problem with ya anyhow? We like ya just fine,” Wrecker told me, warming my heart a little.

I never knew the answer to his question of course, not when I was kid. I could feel myself falling into my memory of that last day.

“You pathetic child,” the preacher spat. “The weight of your sins will follow you all your days, but you are no longer welcome on Vel. Leave Tirra once its people are done with you, and never return.”

That’s when the rocks began flying. Most of them missed me, or only grazed me, at least at first. But then a chunk of brick caught me straight in the gut. I tried to back away, but the alleyway they’d cornered me in had no alternative exit. I was trapped. Insults were hurled in my direction, hitting almost as hard as the rocks and trash that bruised and bloodied my skin.

I had fallen into a heap on the ground, barely able to keep myself conscious, let alone protected.

As I lay there, the people began to grow bored, only the preacher’s inner-circle lackeys remained.

I gathered my strength as they laughed, pulling myself to my knees, wiping the dirt, blood, and tears from my face. 

“You’re going straight to Hell,” said the preacher, rejoining his henchmen.

“I’ll be back,” I warned, my voice shaky. “I’ll come back one day, you’ll never see me coming. You’re gonna regret this, cause I promise you, when I come back, Hell’s coming with me.”

My attention snapped to the present as Echo called my name, his hand and scomp on my shoulders.

A firefight with the locals had broken out, and it wasn’t going well. Wrecker was hit and knocked out on the ground with Omega kneeling over him. Hunter and Tech were behind the cover of the trees, peeking out to fire back on the townsfolk. And Echo was in front of me, holding my shoulders tightly, gently shaking me back to reality.

“You need to get your head back right,” he instructed me, his words coming out more worried than upset. “You almost walked into the line of fire.”

“I- I didn’t- I wasn’t-” I stuttered.

“I know, but we need you,” Echo insisted.

I took a steading breath, wiping away the tears I hadn’t realized were flowing. “Right, right.”

“We need a diversion,” Tech called. 

“We need Wrecker to get back up,” Omega responded.

“Stop firing and stay out of sight,” I ordered over the comms. “Don’t make a sound.”

They hesitated, but ultimately did as I told them. After a few moments, the enemy blasterfire slowed, and then stopped altogether. Wrecker was slowly coming back to consciousness, much to all of our relief.

“Wreck,” I whispered. “I need you to do what you do best; we’re going to need a big boom.”

His face split into the grin of a menace and he nodded, clearly fighting the urge to shout his excitement.

“They’ll be coming up to look for our bodies any minute now; the rest of you need to sneak back to the Marauder. Split up and loop around, Wrecker will meet you there once he’s done helping me.”

“What about you?” Omega worried. 

“I’m the diversion. The townspeople might not have recognized me when we landed, but I know he will.”

“Are you sure?” Hunter asked, and despite his mask I could feel his eyes staring into mine.

“Yes. It’s going to work,” I assured him. Hunter nodded at me, and then again at the rest of the squad. I watched them disperse, as Wrecker began rigging together what he had in his kit.

The end result was a tangle of wires and explosives. “Good work, Wrecker,” I nodded to him. “Set this on the east side of the town - there should hardly be anyone there - I’ll tell you when to set it off. Now get back to the others, tell Tech to get the ship running as soon as I get into the square.”

Wrecker nodded, dashing off into the trees. I unholstered my blaster as I heard a few townies begin to make their way into the thick forest. I spared a glance around the tree I was using for cover. Just two men were stalking up towards me. 

I quickly fired off two shots, hitting each of them square in the center of their chests.

With the coast clear, I moved down the hill towards the town, pausing behind a tree just at the edge. I could hear another man - one of the preacher’s lackeys - shouting after the two who were now laying dead in the middle of the woods. 

I could see him. He was still dressed in her overly-ornate robes. He’d gained weight since I last saw him; unsurprising given how skinny the orphans likely were.

I knew I should have waited just a moment longer, but my anger, my hatred of this man was overpowering, and I ran into the middle of the square.

“They said to start the ship now,” I heard Wrecker breathlessly instruct Tech.

“Well, well, well,” the preacher said, stepping towards me. He dropped my name into the dirt beneath his feet. “I believe I told you all those years ago that you’d overstayed your welcome in this town.”

I said nothing, my jaw clenching and my grip tightening around my blaster. 

“Still a disgusting delinquent I see,” he mused, looking me over. “I’m certain you still haven’t cleansed yourself of your wickedness.”

I began slowly walking sideways towards the large tree that grew in the center of the square, the townspeople watching in repulsion.

“If you think you’re going to make it out of here alive, you’re an even bigger fool than I thought.”

I lowered my blaster, bringing one hand up to my comm device, “Now, Wrecker!” I shouted, and perfectly on cue, a giant ball of flame burst from behind me, smoke, ash, and debris flooding the streets and square. I used the distraction to climb as high as I could into that big old tree.

I felt myself losing my tight grip on my control, and suddenly it was like I was watching my actions from outside of myself.

I attached the grappling extension to my blaster, and held it up, aiming it at that damned preacher. I fired and it hit, plunging half way into his chest. I used the branches of the tree to steady myself as my grappler began to reel itself in. I wrapped the end of my extension to a sturdy branch, ensuring that the corrupt, evil man would hang before the town.

I jumped down from the tree, surveying the town. The people were at their knees, screaming, crying, begging for mercy.

“I promised I’d bring Hell with me,” I snarled. “But I’ll show you the mercy you never gave me.”

I walked towards the Marauder, not followed, simply watched. I could feel my fingernails digging into my palms but I didn’t move them, longing to feel anything but the rage that was coursing through my veins.

From the moment I boarded the ship until the jump into hyperdrive, it was deathly silent. No one uttered a single word, not even Wrecker and Omega were boasting about the successful mission.

I tucked myself away into a corner in the cargo bay. I felt hot tears streaming down my face, cutting through the dust and grime that coated my face, but I did nothing to stop them now. I let my mind wander away a little, only coming back to myself as I heard talking nearby.

“Omega, where are they?” Hunter asked, seemingly again, his voice filled with paternal scolding. 

“I don’t think they want to talk to anyone right now,” Omega replied, her voice firm. 

“We just want to help,” Echo pleaded, his voice a little louder so he knew I could hear him.

“Fine,” Omega relented. “Just…just don’t upset them. Not now.”

I expected Hunter and Echo to come across me now, but was surprised to see the whole Batch before me, waiting patiently.

“Are you okay?” Wrecker asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it before. He had his little tooka doll in hand, and was offering her to me.

I accepted Lula, pulling her tight against my body.

“A lot happened back there,” Echo started.

Tech continued “We will fully understand if our presence here makes you uncomfortable.”

“We’ll leave if you tell us to,” Hunter added. “But you’re part of this squad.”

“This family,” Omega corrected, scooting close to you.

“We’re here for you, if you want to talk about it,” Wrecker finished.

They all looked at me, somewhat expectantly, Omega, placing her hand on my arm.

A fresh flood began to pour from my eyes as I gasped and panted. “I-I’m so-sorry,” I managed between sobs.

Before I knew it, Wrecker scooped me up into a tight hug, Omega joining it as well, standing on a crate to reach around my shoulder. I felt her send looks towards her other brothers, who relented, coming into the group hug as well.

The warmth and pure familial love that surrounded me now was overwhelming in the best possible way. Eventually it had to come to an end, but for now, all I could do was let myself be swept up in the fraternal display of outright affection.“You do still have a family,” Omega whispered. “We’ll always be your family.”

Thanks for reading! - Dang

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[aquilamage]

Looks to the Moon is such a good character and I love them so much.

cue ten miles of rambles <3:

you're playing a game where you (the player, and the character) are thrown into a world that is unfamiliar and frightening and all the other beings are at best neutral but mostly want to make you dead. It's a lot. So to give you someone who is safe is such a relief and a comfort! It's a really good game design choice for endearing you to them instantly and also for making everything else a little more bearable.

(It makes me think of how hk did a similar thing with cornifer and quirrel being a nice reprieve from the stress of the game every time you ran across them, except instead of a random (at least the first time you play) moment you stumble on every so often Looks to the Moon is a safe base to return to. If rain world had a more easily useable (and non-limited) fast travel system I'd be playing it like my first albw playthrough where I went back to visit Ravio at the end of literally every play session)

Plus the fact that they're a loredump character is. mwah! extra nice on top of that

And then on top of the mechanical endearment her character is so good! She's your friend!!! they're so niceies!!!!! getting to see them greet me every time I show up is so!!! Like for sure some of it is the fact that you're the only one who visits and listens to them etc but everything in the way they act suggests that would be the case anyway

and their enthusiasm with the pearls and the fact that they give you the cutest little term of endearment about bringing them!!!!!

"Big Sis Moon" is soooo good and important because not only does it say that she's the kind of person you would call that affectionately but also that she had at least one person who called her that! a sibling! a loving affectionate connection!

but they're also not just nice and nothing else! I really really like the fact that they're very firm about boundaries and such while still being polite. Obv with the neurons (if you touch one they ask you to stop either verbally or with the overseer if you can't understand yet, and she then says that if you do that again she won't talk to you. I've never tested touching one again and saving but I don't doubt she would go through with it) although I don't count that as much because that's like. mega-serious situation version.

But also like with the pearls there's some instances of not wanting to read/discuss contents of one. And in one of the Sky Islands pearls they have a bit where they're just like "please be respectful when speaking of the Void Sea" and then move on. Idk it's a very nice touch.

plus of course the iconic bit from the Wall pearl where they're like "none of us miss the ancients. they were like if parasites were also annoying." It's surprising and hilarious because it's just so extremely mean in comparison to anything they've ever said before and I love that.

firstly because of an admittedly very me thing of feelin like 'the fact that she's always nice better not be a weird Gender writing thing going on.' But also like. As I said before I think it's funny when the nice character has a Very Rude Outburst moment ("we have saved your life before, you witch" anyone?).

PLUS just. The Ancients suck so much and were terrible to the Iterators and Looks to the Moon has so much shit that's happened to them. She deserves to be mean about it one time! She mentions several times about other Iterators having frustration and anger about the everything and while I can definitely believe that she's less like that I also believe that there's gotta be at least some of that there for her too! So of course it's gonna leak out at some point!

and the fact that they immediately follow it up with the 'I'm sorry, that was disrespectful' says sooo much too. Not just that they're nice and polite and trying not to break that but also like. their personal views on the Ancients which might have been a source of conflict with some of the other iterators

adn then switching to something else: the tragedy of their situation with being broken down and helpless and isolated and her relief at being helped! but also leaving me wondering if it really is a kindness when you abandon them with the ending and they're basically in the same state but with a slightly better memory of what's going on and there's nothing more you can do.

the ending line of the dialogue about the pearl in their area being, after all the background information of everything that happened with Sliver of Straw, "I make the case that maybe she should be allowed to rest in peace now." It's compassion on her end but also deeply sad to hear and like. maybe it's just me but I feel like there's something else there that either I'm not grasping or we just aren't given the full information for.

the drainage system pearl about the Ancients thinking that trying and effort was bad and the iterators being for offloading that and Looks to the Moon ending with "I know I have tried very hard." like fucking!!!!! rip out my heart and stomp on it why don't you! that would hurt less! it's but one of the many ways the ancients were messed-up with how they treated the Iterators but that specific statement is so personal!!! AUGH!

...Despite how Much I've said here I still feel like I'm forgetting something Important but of course idk what it would be. But yeah Looks to the Moon is The Character ever so cool so stunningly pretty their voice is so cute and I love her.

[copperbadge]

Hey, Sam, could you straw poll your followers on what sort of Halloween book they'd like? I'm from wider horror vistas, so I'm not clear on what more middle-of-the-weird audiences like. For instance, I'm still not clear on 'spoopy' though I could probably manage 'kooky'

Is Spoopy like a whole thing now? I thought it was just a word from that meme image. I've never really associated kooky with Halloween either, but like...

So, I keep struggling with this for multiple reasons. One, I really would love to do a poll about this but I have zero idea of what to ask. I'd say you should do the poll and I'll link it, but I know why you're asking and it's not just the readership, it's also that generally I'm very good at asking the right questions to get really interesting data in response. So it's not that I don't want to, or don't see why I should, I'm just flailing a bit.

Mainly because, Two, I'm actually highly unfamiliar with even the basics of horror -- I never saw a single horror flick until I was grown and even then I wasn't that compelled by them, so I haven't seen most of the classics, and outside of Stephen King and HP Lovecraft (the bulk of both I genuinely consider dark fantasy rather than horror) I don't find most horror novels very interesting either. I don't object to violence or gore but I don't find them interesting, and very little on the page scares me. There are a handful of stories from the Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark books that I found terrifying as a child, but a full half of that at least was those fucking creepy illustrations.

When I was a kid, this might tell you something about me, I was the one who told the scary stories at sleepovers and campouts and such, because I found telling them much, much more interesting than hearing them. But I was repeating either stories I'd heard from older kids or paraphrases from the Scary Stories books.

Three, I would dearly like to write a Halloween-aesthetic novel in specific, but I don't think of Halloween and horror as being associated necessarily. To me Halloween always carries a flavor of camp with it, at least in terms of narrative. Most halloween movies, outside of like the actual Halloween franchise, are silly films made for kids, most of which were in fact made after I was an adult. Hocus Pocus and Disney's Halloween Treat were the two mainstays of my childhood and one of those isn't even a movie, it's a clip show.

Which I think you're getting at anyway, actually, but I'm just like...I'm trying to vocalize why I feel very scattered, mentally, about the idea. Even when it comes to creativity I'm usually highly systematic, but trying to capture Halloween in a narrative is very elusive to me -- so I have no fixed starting point that I can build the poll off of.

I need to think about it some more, so this probably won't happen until after Halloween, or at least much closer to, which is kind of a shame. But -- there's perhaps something to basic research, asking about what movies people think of as "halloween" movies, what they think of as defining Horror classics, that kind of thing. I'm open to suggestions if people want to drop comments or reblogs about what they'd like to know (please don't send asks, as I don't repost asks sent in response to other asks; or if you do I'll gather that data but please don't expect a reply).