#and when dying in a cave in

[fang-leone]

ALSO UNLETARED, BUT SPEAKING OF FANTASY AU's, My case for Kyoya being Boromir in a Lord of the Rings AU:

Ngl, would be tempted by The Ring, and try to take it from whoever is Frodo

The "Who is this up-start Gingka son of Ryo, the elfs are claiming as the 'True King of Gondor', my family has been running this country for centuries" to "I would have gone with you to the end" pipe line is real, whether Kyoya wants to admit it or not

Devine shield, aka protector of the realms of Men?

Kakeru can be Faramir, ridding his bike horse up and down Ithilien

Tackled by a bunch of Halflings

[heybiji]

dande's dying btw

[couchtaro]

It’s so hard being a single father with no kids who keeps going into cursed caves…..

Welcome back to Father Kilter Friday/Pigeon Paturday where we hfhgdhgdggdgshhshs..,,,, fhghdh…, hhhhhhh,,,,,,,

They’re fine they’re fine. Went for a swim in corrosive mystery goo and got briefly possessed. And it is about to get worse. But it’s fine.

[ciderjacks]

I made this bc I feel like I actually love horror more than most people it’s just that most horror movies think they need to kill characters off or it’s not scary, which ironically actually usually means the movie is way less scary

[werewolfetone]

Making a joke about how caving is fun because it scratches same the itch that caused victorian men to go die at the poles for no reason but shaking my head the entire time to show that I understand that the actual economic and social reasons behind european exploration of the arctic and antarctic in the nineteenth century were actually far more material in nature than they were due to some kind of inherent human desire to die in a stupid way

[hcdragonwrites]

Thunderstorm

(a @jttw-monkeybusiness inspired Drabble)

It was hot today and we have a thunderstorm warning so I wrote something really quick! Enjoy another one this one is short.

A heat wave.

It was the only way to describe the sudden shift in temperature from the last week of travel to now.

Sophie turned her head upward, blinking against the sweat rolling from her face. The last of her sunscreen had been used now, to prevent her skin from cracking beneath the sun's attention. The hat Wukong had snatched from a while back was the only protection she had against the hungry rays of light that drove knives of pain into her skin.

This is a miserable business. She could feel the beginnings of a burn on her arms, from where the sleeves of her tunic didn’t cover her wrists.

It was midday, the heat blistering against the companion's skin. Pigsy complained at every step, at every rock in the road, at every breath. He was drenched, his robes dark from his body perspiring. He waddled at the back of the group, bemoaning his pain to the point that even Sophie was beginning to feel it grate on her nerves. It wasn’t like the rest of them weren’t also suffering in this insufferable heat.

Sandy simply stayed quiet, the only sign of suffering beneath the heat was that the demon had emptied seven water skins- ones he had carried himself. Sandy was closer to Pigsy, getting the brunt of his complaints.

Wukong kept his discomfort silent from what Sophie could see except when he would pointedly look back at them from the head of the group, staring at Trip as if waiting for him to say something. When the monk just kept walking, Wukong would turn back around and look upward to the column of thunderclouds beyond.

The heat seemed to suck all the moisture from the world, sending it up into the dark clouds that were beginning to grow in the mountains ahead of the group. It was a day that promised burning warmth and teased the relief of a downpour. A storm born of the heat. At least it was a reprieve of sorts from yesterday's typical shenanigans of Tripataka being almost devoured for the seventeenth time. At least Sophie thought it was seventeen. Was it actually eighteen?

Sophie and Trip were both walking side by side in the middle of the group, leading Yulong behind. The poor dragon horses' sides were slick with sweat, the white fur turned brown with the road dust. Wukong was carrying the saddle, the great leather contraption held easily in one arm to give their silent companion some relief.

“The gods are punishing us.” Pigsy groaned, rolling his pack from shoulder to shoulder. “Maybe they are punishing us for the wanton murder Wukong had committed just a bit ago.”

Pigsy please… Sophie groaned silently, as she saw the Monkey King whip his head around, teeth bared.

“I didn’t see you helping any to save our master.” Wukong shot back. “The last I saw was you running away from that battle when you got cut by the centipede women!”

Sandy rubbed his face, just as annoyed that these two were picking now to start something.

“I thought I would die of poison!” Pigsy gallantly said, hand to the cloth bound scrap on his arm. “I did not want my fellow companions to have to protect me and save our dear Monk.”

“Centipede's poison only hurts insects and smaller beings. Not demons like you.” Wukong countered. He had paused at the head of the group to swing his gaze on the pig demon. “You just wanted an excuse to get back and have the first taste of the sake we grabbed from those merchants at the festival!”

“You know drinking is forbidden on our holy quest!” Pigsy tried to piously counter but Wukong cut him off with his words and a savage slash of his hand.

“DIDN'T STOP YOU FROM DOWNING TWO CASKS OF IT AND LEAVING US TO EXPLAIN TO THE MONASTERY WHY THEY HAD LESS SAKE!”

“Oh for Pete’s sake.” Sophie muttered quietly. She was too tired, too sticky with road dirt, to care much for the beginnings of this argument. And it was shaping to be a big one. Pigsy wanted to take out his discomfort on someone and it didn’t take much to get the Monkey Kings hackles up. Blaming him for the heat? That would rankle his pride.

Trip also looked between the two, face begging silently please not now.

“Stupid Monkey!” Spat Pigsy.

“Shitty Swine!” Snarled Wukong.

The storm clouds ahead cracked with thunder, the noise temporarily pausing the quarrel.

The monk took advantage of the pause.

“Let’s rest.” Tripataka called, wiping his own forehead free of the sweat clinging there. The monk's eyes looked just as relieved as Sophie felt at the excuse to both rest and to stop a full blown argument from starting again. This had been the third one today, and soon it would come to blows or to Tripitaka using the charm to put the Monkey King to heel.

If that could be avoided it would be in everyone’s favor to avoid it. Wukong usually sulked after such uses and he and Tripataka would get into their own argument.

Tripataka and Sophie both beelined for a small copse of trees, Yulong snorting in relief. They left their companions behind without a second thought, both of them tired and sweating. For all Pigsys complaining, he wasn’t being baked by the sun as badly as their mortal companions. Tripataka had a red patch of skin beginning to form on the back of his neck despite the protection of the hat. Sophie could feel the beginning of a blister at her heel. She hoped it wouldn’t burst.

The immortals only took a moment before they too joined the rest of their company beneath the trees. Sandy set to making tea, already propping a fire up faster then Sophie could follow with her eyes.

Pigsy simply just fell against a rock beneath the shade, complaining loudly, grousing about how hungry he was and how he had a pain in his back that may need looking at. No one paid him any heed.

Trip and Sophie dropped their packs in an unceremoniously heap. Tripataka pulled out a curry brush and passed a flat brush to Sophie who took it wordlessly and set to work.

The two humans had fallen into a habit of helping to strip down and tend to the dragon horse, both taking to brushing the flanks. When Sophie had first been asked by Trip, she had been eager and a bit apprehensive. She didn’t have much experience with horses (let alone shape shifted magical dragon ones) to be confident in this task. But Trip had smiled and taught her the basics of care- from brushing his coat to checking his hooves for rocks that could threaten lameness, and bring discomfort.

“You're a patient teacher Trip.” Sophie had said.

“Thank you. It was actually Wukong who taught me to tend to Yulong.” The horse had nipped fondly at the sleeve of the monk in thanks.

“Wukong?” That surprised her. “He knows about horses?”

“Before he rebelled against Heaven he had been given the position of Stablemaster. It was his duty and job to tend to the celestial beasts of Heaven. He showed me what to do to take care of Yulong.” Trip rubbed at the horse's poll, earning a happy snort from the dragon horse. “You should ask him about it! He has seen so many fabulous beasts in the Heavenly stables to rival any lord or Emperor of earth.”

Of course Sophie had. She had bothered and questioned and asked everything she could of the Monkey King about what the Heavenly court looked like, what beasts he had tended, how he had taken care of them, and much more. Wukong, if in a good mood and not acting aloof or having been reprimanded by his Master, was always willing to boast about himself. Of course that usually meant an exchange of sorts. Yesterday it had been for her to sit with him as he answered her questions, rifling through Sophie’s bag and asking questions of his own on what these were and insulting them- he particularly had taken to insulting her makeup which Sophie had, of course, taken the bait on. She had only realized it was a trap until after she was halfway through the reason why her brand of makeup and mascara was perfect and made her look and feel like a goddess that she saw that shit eating grin and had shoved at him.

Today she wouldn’t ask him her typical questions. She had something else she wanted to do.

Wukong brought the saddle up and set it at the base of the tree, tail flicking back and forth. He glared at Pigsy, opening his mouth to finish the argument when Trip, without having to look up, stopped him.

“Leave him Sun Wukong.” He ordered. There was patience still in the monks voice. “He means none of what he says.”

“He means all of it, Monk.” Wukong retorted. Sophie saw Pigsy look up and grin at them, egging the demon monkey on.

“Go.” Tripataka pointed away from Pigsy to another shaded patch. “Cool your temper and yourself. Let us have a moment of peace until we must embark into the heat again.”

The Monkey king sniffed and turned on his heel angrily, leaving Sophie and Trip to their task. As he walked past Pigsy he curled his middle finger up and away from the rest of his hand, flipping the pilgrim the bird.

Of course Pigsy didn’t understand what that statement meant. Yet.

Wukong had pestered and bugged her about the hand signal she had given when one particularly shitty day finally had gotten beneath Sophie’s skin and she had reacted silently. It had been an unusually rough day when finally, her headphones (may they rest in peace) had died in the middle of Gustav Holst Jupiter.

Sophie had at first pulled the headphones out in disbelief and then tried to pop them back in. Maybe they just need to reconnect. She tried them again. No use. Her music was finally gone. So she of course reacted silently and, with what she thought at the time, was appropriate. Sophie had regretted losing her temper that way and regretted even further to having caved to Wukongs questions.

Soon all of them would know what the middle finger meant and that may also lead to further arguments. Sophie could see Pigsy using it the most to get a rise from Wukong. For now, only the Monkey King knew. She hoped it stayed that way for as long as possible.

Or at least till we get out of this heat.

Between Sophie and Trip, they had Yulong brushed down, feet picked clean and a small bucket of water set before the great white stallion. Once his needs had been tended Sophie looked back up at the sky. The thunderstorm was tall and black, staining the blue sky wherever it crossed. A blessedly cooled breeze blew into her face carrying the scent of water and damp earth. She dragged her backpack a bit away from Trip who was meditating now, to a bit of shade a few lengths away from the rest of them where she could watch the storm unfurl.

Sophie would catch up on some reading, having been lucky enough to snag a book. It was a book of poetry by a scholar of the name Li Po, and whatever magic had cast her into the past had also given her an ability to understand and read the languages here too. A small blessing, that.

Sophie hadn’t had anything new to read in what felt like ages and was eager to crack open the little book and read its contents. She craved it.

She settled herself down, setting her backpack behind her and crossing her legs. As she crossed her legs, and turned to dig into her bag, she felt something heavily land in her Lap. She peeked down and beneath her arm.

Wukong stared up at her, face set in a scowl.

“Yes? Can I help you?” Well. This was new. Wukong would sit with her when they had time to silently rest during their travels. Usually it was side by side, usually it was Sophie joining the Sage to ask him questions. But- never him resting on her. That was new.

Wukongs head was resting squarely in her lap, arms crossed behind, shoulders on her legs.

“You aren’t going to ask me questions.” He didn’t say it like a question. More of a statement. He sounded glum.

“I was going to read this book I snagged in the last town we were in.” Sophie pulled it from her bag, showing him the simple black embossed cover. She was too tired to complain about Wukong not at least respecting her boundaries or asking permission before he settled himself on her person. If I brought it up he would just say he was a king and it was his right to any person's space. To keep peace, she wouldn’t voice her thoughts. The heat had made all of them tired and she would rather have a calm monkey resting in her lap than a monkey that would rise eagerly to argue. Even if said monkey had come uninvited.

Wukong wasn’t demanding anything of her - at least not yet. Which meant he was in a … better mood ? It was hard to tell. Some days she felt like she and the Monkey King were as thick as thieves, dodging demonic creatures, bandits and the like with an ease that was comforting in this strange world. Other days it was like walking around a scalded cat, Wukong picking and poking and snapping at things Sophie didn’t understand fully. He was a prickly monkey but …

She looked down and saw that his face, though set in his typical apathetic scowl, had none of the stormy look he usually wore when something was bothering him.

When he acted like this it made Sophie want to be his friend all the more.

Wukong pulled one of his hands free from behind his head and held up a hand, asking silently. Sophie passed him the book. The Monkey King squinted at the words, turning the book and it’s pages in his hand with a disinterested air.

“I guess that’s suitable.” He said and snapped it closed.

“Suitable?”

“To read aloud.” Wukong said, passing it back to her. He closed his eyes, breathing out as another cool breeze shook the tree leaves above them.

“We may have an hour or two before that storm will be upon us.” He lifted his chin up, gesturing at the storm.

“I don’t think you want your little book to get wet in that downpour so if you want to get a good deal into it, best to start sooner rather than later.”

“You want me to read aloud to you?”

Wukong opened one glowing eye and stared at her. “Yes. It will be a welcome change to that monkey stalker crap you have.”

“It’s not crap it’s science!”

“Sounds like crap to me.”

“If you want me to read to you, you better not call this book crap either or I will drop it on your nose.” Sophie threatened.

Wukong opened both his eyes to fix her with an upside down glare.

“You wouldn’t dare.” But there was a hint of a grin about his face, a tugging of humor to his lips.

Sophie kept his stare, unblinking.

“Watch me, monkey boy.”

She shook the book in threat. She would drop the book on his nose. Sophie had a suspicion that Wukong would then take that book and either chuck it away or keep it away from her.

Wukong grinned up and then closed his eyes again, tail curling up and onto his waist.

“I wouldn’t. It’s poetry. I want to hear what this pompous Li Po has to prattle about.” With that Wukong settled back into Sophie’s lap, getting comfortable.

Sophie felt a touch of affection for her friend, something that may have struck a different cord with her if this had been earlier in their relationship (and before Wukong had squashed that very early crush). Wukong may be an ass- pompous and self important himself- but he was genuine in a sense. He may dance around things that made him turn moody and broody but he really couldn’t hide that, despite being hot and cold at times to her, Sophie and Sun Wukong had a friendship. One born of arguments and teasing, questions and prodding. Maybe he had scared her into falling into a river. But he had stolen her clothes to replace the ones soaked. Maybe he had poor communication skills and liked to get her attention by kicking walls or suddenly jumping up in front of her or taking her things and holding them at ransom. But it was friendship. A friendship so very strange and bewildering at times that It confused Sophie as much as rewarded her.

The snap of thunder had her stare back up into the sky. The storm moved closer, already a sheet of rain visibly pouring down onto the mountains beyond. It would be a bit before it reached the pilgrims but it was making its steady way toward them all the same.

Sophie opened the book, flipping to the first poem. Quite appropriately it was about storms.

As the thunder rolled closer, promising a reprieve from the heat, Sophie felt a peace settle in as she read. Even as the sky broke apart before them, she felt a calm and grounding. She may be from another time, another place. Adrift she could have felt. Reading aloud she felt an anchor settle in her. She belonged. Even if it was only to a very angry stone monkey, she belonged.

[deoidesign]

Can you make a tutorial on how you world build and make ocs? I can't seem to make any people in my brain, but then when I try to come up with environments jobs, beliefs and little details to slowly come up with someone, I think: well I don't really know how people have influenced the world- it's a weird loop

To be honest, I don't think I can! Writing is an extremely personal process. The way I write is directly related to how I process things, what I find important in stories, years of my own analysis of my and other's writing, etc... The way you write will be unique to you, as well. But I can explain how I personally think of it.

The short answer:

Write. Write anything and everything, it's a tool to explore your ideas. Analyze your own writing, and write more. Then, as you discover which ideas you want to develop, write more to explore them more. You won't know what you want otherwise!

The long answer:

I think this kind of loop is common. It's easy to feel like everything needs to be done "at once," because our job as writers is to make elements logically fit with each other for our readers. But as you've discovered, developing multiple elements simultaneously isn't really possible, or at least is extremely difficult.

Personally, when I think of writing, I break it into three major elements; characters, world, and plot. As much as possible every scene explores one or more of these, and as much as possible these three things tie back into what I personally consider most important: theme.

Everything I do is in service of the themes I want to present. Without them my events feel aimless. It can take a while to discover them, but they're the core of my work. You will have to discover what you feel is the core of yours. Analyzing other media helps with this too.

Concepts in your brain exist in a state of infinite potential. But when you start writing you have to start making choices, which removes potential as you move forward... But you have to move forward anyways. If there's ideas you want to explore later, you can always explore them later.

What this ends up meaning, to answer your question, is that I don't think of my characters as "people in my brain" or my worlds as something people have influenced... Not at their core, at least. They are tools that I use to represent specific ideas. Obviously they're also my blorbos, but mostly they're serving a specific narrative purpose.

So above all else... Write. Write, and discover what you're writing about, and then start over and write with that in mind. Keep doing this. But you have to write!

[10thmusemoon]

yue qingyuan, my beloved princess with disorders...

[spacedlexi]

i just think a "friended/romanced + saved + trust aj" violet does such a good job rounding out the plot and characters of S4 and i dont say that lightly

she walls people off out of fear just like S3 clem did and learned to grow out of through the compassion of others. feeling like she could have done more to save minnie being what initially makes her step up to lead, but her accepting her love for clem (and clem choosing to save her) is what leads to her Truly accepting the school and everyone inside it as her Home and gives her something to fight for ("i tried my damnedest not to care about either of you. and i still couldnt tell you why." "i know where youre coming from. after losing so many people, sometimes its easier to keep everyone at arms length." "and then you wonder why you fight so hard to stay alive. i dont wonder anymore."). this being the reasoning behind violets detachment from the school, as well as a negative home life impacting her idea of what a home even was. but together they turn ericson from a prison into the home theyve BOTH been looking for, renaming it together, and envisioning it for the future together. the two of them understand each other deeply, from what theyve lost to how its affected them and the poor ways theyve decided to react to it. but through their support of the other, they BOTH get to evolve into more relaxed and confident versions of themselves, who know Exactly what theyre fighting for

her troubled relationship with brody and getting to learn more about what happened with the twins/violets reaction to it and how she ultimately blames herself/brodys guilt about her part in it and how she misses violet. getting the chance to mend that relationship before its too late. the 3 of them becoming closer because of it. and getting to develop clems friendship with brody leads to a more impactful moment later in the basement

her relationship with tenn reflecting clems relationship with aj, in the way they both made the decision to look after their respective boys after their primary guardians died (ajs parents, tenns sisters). both of them can understand the responsibilities they have taken upon themselves, and how hard it can be to do right. the 4 of them become a tight knit group quickly. especially in EP2 as vi supports clem while tenn supports aj through the marlon fiasco

her confused relationship with minerva introducing interesting conflict both within her relationship with clem (who has her own personal conflict with minerva, which vi still ties into through her relationship with both minnie and tenn) and the over arching plot, which has themes of learning when to let someone go because they are no longer who they once were (clem and lilly "we were family once", mitch about ms martin "you get all caught up in who people used to be, and you cant deal with whats in front of you", violet about minnie "the real minnie? shes been gone this whole time and i have to stop mourning her")

having a saved violet on the boat expanding the conversation with minerva about her motivations with the delta. violet apologizing for never looking for her, minnie saying she knows she would have but that its too late now, so sure this is just the way things have to be. getting to hear minnie say "you can be rewarded, just like i am", giving us insight into her character. and clem getting the last word before she rams the door down, her and violet fighting minnie Together. and violet saves clems life, making the Choice to shoot minerva, which in and of itself is a huge moment for violets character in regards to her relationship with both minnie And clem

and aj shooting tenn on the bridge brings things full circle, by putting violet in the same position louis was in EP2, where aj has killed the most important person to her, in an effort to save her life, and now she must reckon with those feelings the same way louis had to about marlon. not so easy now is it violet? ("so youre mad, but sad" "can i be that for a while?" "yeah, its ok")

just... ough... violets whole character just fits into Everything so well, but in a way that elevates the characters and plots around her, while also developing her into her own

[kismetconstellations]

Sendak's voice taunting Shiro about the two of them being "connected" when contextualized with the heavy implication that Sendak sexually violated Shiro, makes me want to retch.

[harmonicabisexuals]

speaking of house md ships that only two people in the entire world acknowledge, i did literally gasp in "euphoria" when foreman called cameron "allison" while asking for her forgiveness after stealing her article, trying to infect her with an unexplained disease, and saying that they weren't friends just colleagues, like that was sooooo

[boyfeminism]

MOROSE.

[vanweezer]

being extroverted must be awesome imagine feeling nothing after telling someone "wow youre REALLY quiet". im going to talk less around you now 🫶

[tiktaaliker]

mannnn ive never had this strong of an urge to draw human people before now but there are some scenes from the raven cycle i want to draw sooooo bad its not even fucking funny!!!!

[koukaaa-descent]

praying that the images aren’t enormous when I post. ok so here’s some of my writing (the last of which being part of a draft abt a masked).,, uhhuh …

[whimsicmimic]

thinking about when i was done dying by dan deacon and vash at the end of trimax and i am experiencing every single human emotion all at once