#and yeah i know theres more to the story

[kikieseverywhere]

I got a bunnydoll (bunnydolj) bracelet

Now I realize that the "B" is backwards help

(story in tags so YAP WARNING)

[holmsister]

Kinda gets me when people age them down in AUs and stuff because to me those characters wouldn't be half as interesting if Chilchuck, Senshi and Mithrun were the tallman equivalent of in their twenties

[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!

[carnivalls]

.

See the thing is. I know I'm good at writing. Like I have my weak areas or things I need to improve in, but it's not a skill I otherwise spend a lot of time feeling insecure about because a) if I don't believe in my writing literally who will b) if I want to publish my writing I ought to at least feel a resting level of good about it because editors and agents likely will not be cradling my face like a prize cat and telling me how talented I am while asking for their edits c) I've always had an audience for my writing even at its worst– I started sharing my original works online when I was around 16 & that really helped sell to me the idea of 'there will always be someone out there who likes what you do' d) untalented men never think this hard about the quality of their works and they always end up published anyway and e) I don't have many other thoroughly developed skills so why not have one I feel good about. Having said this. Awkward feeling to realize you're one of the authorial weak links in your postgraduate creative writing degree's social circle

[give-grian-rights]

can someone tell me why im being abnormal about a character i've barely touched the content of. like yay yippie i watched like 20 hours of you. there's fucking 80 years of content get me OUT OF HERE?

[puppppppppy]

Atla live action 😐

[captainshadowshifter]

Me just casually thinking about au worldbuilding and once again realising everything is linked

[alphabetboyluvr]

Need to know in ch 37, was jk’s red jacket from hayun? The one he wore during tae’s exhibit?

no im just painfully in love with this jungkook in a way that quite literally nobody will ever understand

[welcometoteyvat]

jing yuan and yanqing are giving zhongli and xiao if the latter’s canon relationship was Actually fanon’s made up father figure/adopted child dynamic

[danidoesathing]

You keep mentioning in the tags pmmm au, I am very interested to learn more about it

:D ah yes my pmmm au also know "what if jayce suffered even more" au. its basically the madoka magica plot/setting but i make it with arcane characters. which the situations and personalities of the characters alters how everything plays out. i shall yap before the cut to spare everyone's dashboards

so this mostly assuming you've seen the show but if case you havent 1. please god watch it its so fucking good. dont let the first three episodes fool you its a wonderful tragedy and jayce and viktor's s2 arc takes a good amount of inspiration from it. im about to spoil it and its my favorite show ever so PLEASE

2. a very very brief run down on madoka magica it's basically "magical girls if being a magical girl was more like selling your soul for a wish that will eventually and inevitably end with you becoming a monster (a Witch) of pure emotion and anguish that's a reflection of your own issues. and also the alien cat creature giving you powers is an emotionless manipulative bastard exploiting desperate pre-teen girls for it's own gain". the show mostly follows madoka, who gets to see first hand how awful being a magical girl is but due to circumstances (initially being saved by a magical girl who dies, her friend becoming a magical girl, that fuck ass cat) is constantly brought back into that world. There's a mysterious transfer student whose later revealed to be a time traveler whose been reliving this month for the past 12 years trying to save Madoka and prevent her from becoming a magical girl. The show ends with Madoka making her wish to erase all Witches from existence, and due to the enmority of her Wish (as well as a result of the progression of time being dependent on Madoka). She becomes a God (magical girl jesus) and rewrites reality in which magical girls are spared from that fate, but Madoka's mortal existence is erased from existence, and homura is the only one who could remember her (or the original reality). in the movie sequel due to a long series of events im not gonna even try to touch upon, Homura eventually comes to the conclusion that Madoka is not happy as a god and rips her down from heaven, rewriting reality again to give madoka a happy, mortal life. and the second movie isn't out yet so thats where it is right now. you see where im going with this?

im still not sure if im calling them mages or puella magi yet. age wise everyone is young but not quite as young as the show. Jayce-Viktor-Mel are all about 17/18. Caitlyn and Vi are about 14/15, and Jinx is about 12 (about 9 or so when she made her wish) and Ekko is about 13. this is mostly just make everything happen while still being in the typical age range.

for obvious reasons. Viktor and Jayce are madoka and Homura. the first loop, however, is pretty close to the show's final loop. Viktor and jayce are best friends (about four or so years?) and lab partners on their final year of high school. Viktor is singed's foster son, while orianna is in a coma (not exactly a loving or stable home. that plus his general self loathing and the general torment of being a chronically ill teenager means his mental health is the fucking gutter). Jayce and his mother nearly die in the blizzard still and he swears up and down they were saved by magic.

Viktor makes his wish to "fix" himself (he's a healer/caster/support type. focuses mostly on casting and summoning robot familiars but builds most of his own extra tech and enchants it with magic to help during combat.) but figures out pretty quickly the deal comes with a number of strings, even if he's not sure what exactly. He knows Jayce with his naivety and love of magic would jump at the chance to become so he tries to keep it a secret. but fate forces his hand and he saves Jayce from getting snatched by a witch. Jayce is, as expected, enamored by the idea of becoming a mage. Viktor keeps telling him its a stupid fucking idea especially when he has nothing to wish for. and they get into a number of fights about it, esp when caitlyn makes her wish, but ultimately Jayce reluctantly heeds viktor's warnings. then things gradually get worse and worse as they do. caitlyn and vi disappear. viktor won't talk about it or anything to do with magic really and his warning turns into begging jayce not to do this. jayce is scared for him but can't help. eventually walpurgisnacht happens and Viktor dies defending the city. Jayce cannot handle this and makes his Wish to go back and save Viktor. and thus begins the loop of the worst three or so months of his life in a futile effort to save the one he loves and the slow building of a god. this can only end well

they are only ones who would really take any solid roles though. everyone else has their unique storyline while these two are having their knock-off yuri plot. Jinx's original wish is to make her bombs work correctly, which inevitably backfires and kills her family and leads to Vi getting arrested on false charges. Jinx believes herself to be a. well a jinx, and adopts a kyoko esq mentality where she decides to never help anyone ever again, and stops caring about the destruction or causalities when she fights witches. One of these causalities results in the death of Caitlyn's mother (which is blamed as a terrorist attack. which is mean yeah but). Caitlyn (usually, again dependent on timeline circumstances) makes a wish to be able to find the person that killed her mother (long range gunner like Mami, but with a more sharpshooter focus and her flowers are more like violets). Vi's own wish to be able to find her sister (brawler defensive type, there's some kind of wolf theming here), which gets her out of juvey. she and cait eventually team up to find the people they're looking for (fun fact! in the first loop vi and viktor team up to fight witches due to convince and their combat styles matching ie barbarian + cleric/sorcerer. and i like their potential dynamic sue me). their fate varies depending on the loop but unfortunately Jinx has the sayaka curse where she becomes a Witch every time she is a magical girl. which is all of them. cause i have plans for her in the rebellion part of the au. dont even worry about it

ekko is here somewhere. still figuring him out. im think of him not being involved in most of the loops but due to jayce's time fuckery and ekko's own time abilities (also jinx) feels the need to intervene. or him not even making his wish in a majority of loops but that changes for some reason in the later ones and is a key aspect in changing the outcome of the final loop. ive no clue what mel's doing im so lost on how to include her. if anyone has any ideas PLEASE shes literally a magical girl in the show i cant not put in here it'd be rude

and i of course made witch forms. ive already yapped a lot but i will at least say what they are because the witch forms are SO important to me even if the ones that dont get used. we got: Vivian, the Witch of Rabbits (Jinx). Aster, the Witch of Fools, then Witch of the Underworld in rebellion (Jayce). Apollyon, the Witch of Machinery, then Witch of Fractals post-loop 30+. Valí, the Witch of Families (Vi). Annette, the Witch of Queens (Caitlyn). Ekko's is currently unnamed, but is the Witch of Hour-Hands. Mel's is also unnamed, and is the Witch of Gold (though i may change that, feels too simplified with how obstruct these things can be)

[spearxwind]

ough i really want to name like, a location in one of my headworlds after Nidavellir cause its literally such a dope name fr

[pens-and-paperbacks]

Honestly, I wish we would have been able to see more of Zaun and it's people outside of the main conflict. The culture that exists there underneath the hyper aggressive, survival mode that most have in the face of Piltovers absolute negligence is one of strong bonds, found families and loyalties that are treasured or at the very least highly respected.

We see it in how people like Vander, Silco, Benzo and Powder all take a child or two under their wing and love them unconditionally. We see it in how Vi treated Mylo and Claggor as brothers despite them not being related by blood at all. We see it in how, in nearly every case, no one in Zaun would turn over their own people, regardless of whatever trouble they caused for the ENTIRE city.

I know we only have so much time and so much focus in a show like Arcane, especially one so beautifully and meticulously animated, but I feel like we missed out on a lot of this. We got a glimpse of it here and there throughout the show and when people took up arms against Viktor, and I know we're most likely going to be moving on to Noxus with Mel but-

-I really, REALLY hope that we go back to Zaun and Piltover in another show. There is so much material to work with about social and power dynamics alone, especially after the events of season two, that I feel we could get another season or two out of that settling alone as we deal with the aftermath of the riots, the war and finally getting a child of Zaun, Sevika, on a councilor seat.

[mirrortouchedsea]

⬛⬛⬛ was seven years old when his mother died. He remembers being sad, mourning her sudden loss in the way children process death. He stayed by her bedside as she took her last breath, holding her hand and crying, begging her to stay. She loved him. She had spent her last moments making sure he knew that he wasn’t alone and never would be, as long as he could keep her in his memory. 

He remembers crying out as her casket was closed for the final time, lowered into the ground. Something snapped in him and he was begging her to stay again, begging them to not take her away. 

⬛⬛⬛ didn’t come out of his room for weeks afterwards. He sat in his room, cradling a photo of his mother in his hands. His father would leave food for him and he would eat it, never taking his eyes off the photo. 

So when his father came home after only two months of his mother being dead, ⬛⬛⬛ was not what one would call happy. Even though he’d started going back to school a few weeks ago, he wasn’t ready for someone else to take her place. Nobody else could ever be his mother. 

He got into an argument with his father that night. At seven years old, ⬛⬛⬛ decided that he couldn’t bear to live in a house with a man who could so easily replace the woman he claimed to love. He didn’t know where he was going but he took the clothes on his back, the photo of his mother, and some cash he’d been saving up and just walked out. 

He made his way to the bus stop and got on, thinking about where he would even go. He wasn’t sure he could make his way to his mother’s family on his own, as they lived on the other side of the country, and he definitely didn’t want to see his father’s family. So he stayed on the bus as long as the driver would let him stay. 

Eventually though, he did have to get off. It was sprinkling out, not enough to make him uncomfortable, but it was a sign of heavier rains to come. ⬛⬛⬛ made his way from the bus stop to a restaurant that looked like it was about to close, but still had the lights on and maybe they could give him some shelter from the rain, at least for a while. He stepped inside and stared at the workers cleaning up the dining room. They looked…concerned that a child his age was alone at night, especially in this part of town, one would say.

They asked him what he was doing out, if he lost his parents, if he was from the area. It’s not safe out here for kids like you, they told him. He doesn’t remember responding, but he must have because they shuffled him to the back of the restaurant to their boss and asked what to do with him. None of them could really afford to take a child in but he hadn’t told him where he was from or where his parents were. They suggested calling the police, but ⬛⬛⬛ started crying at the suggestion, not wanting to get them involved. I can’t go home, he told them, my father is a bad person.

The restaurant manager agreed to allow him to stay for a bit, giving him a meal on the grounds that he’d leave by the end of the week. ⬛⬛⬛ agreed, scarfing down the food like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. 

Over the next few days, ⬛⬛⬛ bid his time by doing dishes, greeting customers, learning to read from the menu. The staff treated him kindly, but they felt distant, unsure of what to do with him, though by the time the weekend came, he hadn’t figured out where he wanted to go. A few of the staff pointed him towards an orphanage in town, but one of the cooks slipped him a one way train ticket to a few cities over, somewhere he could get out of that area, a note attached with directions on where to go to meet someone who would take him in. 

He held the ticket in his hand, scanning it as he walked through the station to the loading area, the note clutched in his hand. ⬛⬛⬛ was practically shaking as he entered the train by himself. A few adults asked if he was okay, if he knew where he was going. Yes, he said, I’m just not used to traveling by myself, but my uncle is going to meet me at my stop. That was a lie he’d rehearsed on the way there but they let him be. He had to fight himself to keep from falling asleep and missing his stop, but he must have succumbed to it at some point, as one of the adults next to him gently shook him awake as they approached his destination. He thanked them and hopped off his seat, getting ready to depart the train car and start his new life. 

He stepped onto the platform and was greeted by a bustling crowd. It was overwhelming to say the least, so many strange people just going about their day. ⬛⬛⬛ made his way to the staircase where someone came up from behind him, introduced himself as the person who would be taking care of the young boy. He could call him “Priest”, as his true name was of little importance. He asked if the young boy had a name, which the boy muttered under his breath. When asked to repeat it, he said he wished to give up his name, as he no longer wanted to be associated with the person who gave it to him. The Priest agreed with him and said they’d find a suitable name for him soon enough. There were many names in the world, but for now he’d be referred to as the Prodigal Son, or simply the Son for short. The Son found this amicable and agreed to the change. He remembers wondering what that meant, as he had never heard of the word “Prodigal” before, but he would come to understand it in due time. 

The Priest taught the Son many things, reading, writing, the history of Japan, things that he remembered being taught in school before his mother passed, but he also taught the Son many other things one would never find in a normal school. The Son learned the art of disguise, impersonation, how to manipulate his voice. Some day, the Priest had told him, he’d be called upon to use his gifts for the greater good. The Son, not knowing any better, accepted this and that his skills would be useful in the future. 

The Son went through many identities in his time studying under the Priest. His hair had been cut, extended, dyed and bleached, his eyes were a dozen different colors and none of them. He could mimic any voice after observing the speaker for ten minutes. He went by many different names, though he always came back to the Son. In due time, he forgot his father entirely, but he carried the last photo of his mother with him in his pocket wherever he went. It made him feel at ease, as if she were watching over him from the afterlife still, protecting him from the harsh realities of the world. The photo had faded with time, the wear and tear on it having almost removed her face entirely, but the Son could still picture it perfectly. It had been burned into his mind on the day he watched her take her last breath.

The Son started University at age 17, younger than many of his peers in Japan, and he graduated at age 20. It hadn’t been easy, but he had honed his skills and developed them on the stage, playing off his talents as being simply that, talent and skill, not something he had used to bring about political upheaval in the past and likely in the future. 

The Son had kept his distance at University though, going by another fake name and only attending the bare minimum of classes and extracurriculars that were required of him by the Priest. He had begun proper vocal training to learn how to sing, something that he had been told would be useful soon, though he had not been given the details, and further developed his voice by participating in several musical performances, though he still remained rather distant from the rest of the cast and crew, exchanging only the bare necessities of pleasantries and making excuses to get out of bonding time outside of scheduled practice hours. 

The Son was a lonely man, and he knew this. He knows this. He is a lonely man. He was about to turn 23 when the Priest finally told him about his newest mission. Do you remember your father, the Priest had asked over the phone. No, replied the Son, not more than I need to, anyway. So you remember you had a father, and he had another wife after you left, the Priest continued. The Son hummed in agreement, Yes I ran away because of her, you know this. Of course I do, but I just wanted to make sure, Anyway did you know he had another son with her? What do you mean by another son? I mean that you are an older brother, and your younger brother needs help. I do not want to speak to anyone else related to that man. Oh but you’ve been training to help your brother, haven’t you, he dreams of being an idol, someone who sings and dances on stage like you. Theater performances and being an idol are two different things. Yes, well it wouldn’t exactly be easy to get you to train to be an idol with no intentions on debuting, so we had to make do. Why should I help him? Out of the love in your heart for your own flesh and blood. I do not consider that old man my father, nor that boy my brother. He has a secret he needs to keep, something I’m sure you’re familiar with of course. What secret? All in due time, Son, will you help him or not? 

The Son refused to meet his brother in person for the first few months, preferring to instead communicate only by phone. He had been studying at Reimei academy, he told him, as part of the idol course. His mother loved idols, loved them so very much and it was the only memory he had of her. The Son understood his brother on that level. During their phone calls, the Son learned about his brother’s rival at the school, a boy by the name of Tatsumi Kazehaya who happened to be in the year above him. Tatsumi Kazehaya was perfect in many ways, something that his brother found infuriating. Why couldn’t he be like that? He lamented in one phone call. The Son told him that some people are simply born with talent, and Kazehaya was one of them. His brother relented and continued to update the Son on his progress. 

Despite the Son knowing his brother’s name, Kaname Tojou, his brother did not know his, instead choosing to refer to him only as “Onii-chan,” a word that grated on his ears. He was not a cute older brother to be looked up to and in fact he’d rather be doing anything else than be there, and yet. He stayed calm. Once Kaname debuted and got on his feet, the Son would fade back into the background as if he never existed. That was the plan, anyway. The Priest had told him that he would be free to do as he pleased away from his watchful eye if everything went according to plan. 

After a year of guiding his brother in the ways of being an idol, the Son wanted to see how he was progressing. Kaname hadn’t said anything about a performance, but since the Son was very good at keeping an ear to the ground, he had found out about a performance between Kaname and Tatsumi to be put on for the entire school. He wasn’t entirely sure what the purpose of that was exactly, but it would be a good time to gauge Kaname’s progress and how well he had followed the Son’s instructions. The Son made his way through the crowd, finding a spot near the front but not where Kaname could see him and he watched the empty stage, waiting for any sign of life.

The projectors came on and a video began playing, a video about the exact secret that the Son had been safeguarding even from his brother. It was a video about Kaname’s mother and how she had ruined the career of one of the best idols that had ever existed in Japan. The energy in the crowd was agitated, vibrating with anger as they waited for the two aspiring idols to take the stage. The Son wanted to run backstage, warn his brother of the impending danger, but could only watch in horror as the curtains raised and the crowd rushed forward. The Son looked on as the two young idols were yanked from the stage, a scream lost to the noise of the crowd, unable to do anything. 

When it was over, he had found himself in the hospital waiting room, pacing the length of it as he went over the potential outcome of the surgery. His brother had suffered greatly, that much was obvious to the Son as they loaded the two boys into the ambulance, but how much damage was done had yet to be seen. 

Someone approached the Prodigal Son while he was pacing and placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Thank you for coming home. 

[todayisafridaynight]

any hopes for kiwami 3? like things u wanna see added or changed stuff like that

if they dont keep kiryu's goofy walk stance and the hoof-like walk sounds i dont wanna play it

[bmpmp3]

why does everything i get really into always end up being so god damn niche. by the year 2035 i am going to be blogging exclusively about the interpersonal relationships between the pillbugs and snails hiding underneath the bricks lining the flowerbeds in my parent's garden.

[hballegro]

if ur wondering why ive only been writing and finishing previously started crafts and not doing more field day or other drawing, the answer is school is already Beating My Ass

once there is a break in the clouds. its henry blake time