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imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese · 7 months ago

Note

Hello! Me again, back to pester you about lore.

So what's going on with The Drifter? For once I know a little about the character, I read 'A Man With No Name', but I still have questions. From how the book read, Drifter convinced Felwinter to get revenge for the destruction of the village. Did that go anywhere? And what did Drifter get up to for the (unspecified very long) timeskip between the book and the game?

And with the modern day, does the Vanguard know he's running a fighting ring out of the basement? Or does every single guardian look away when Zavala tries figuring out where people keep getting these weapons? I guess first rule of fight club and all that. What's he even trying to do? He seems to be pretty against most of the Vanguard's leadership.

Anyway, another invitation to infodump about your other blorbo. I hope you don't mind XD

If you thought I was long-winded about Eris... She's maybe 400 years old whereas the Drifter may be 900... get comfy... this will not be quick.

"Dark Age was wild times."

I adore the Drifter and a good chunk of how and why I adore him is his voice - both the voice acting and the syntax/diction/phrasing used in the writing, but voice alone does not cover why I find his character so utterly enthralling and fantastic.

I wrote a short piece consisting of Eris telling Ikora what she sees in him in my story Finders Keepers. It's basically a personality analysis and some people have (I think probably accurately) accused it of being a love letter to that character. (Reminder: that link is fanfiction - I wrote it - it is not lore, but it is based on lore. However, everything else I list after this is actual lore.)

But, personality aside, ultimately the Drifter's story is what I find most compelling about him and makes him so empathetic. You mentioned you've read A Man with No Name, but there's more. A lot more.

To start, the Drifter is D2's most violent pacifist.

He doesn't want to fight and when he does, it's vicious. The Emissary of the Nine, formerly Orin (his ex-best friend and/or ex-lover, depending upon how you read it) aptly says "He hates violence. He hates it so much he'll murder anyone who tries to inflict it on him."

In A Man with No Name, we see him go from hiding in a town and having it obliterated by warlords, to running a bar at the bottom of Felwinter peak, to getting Lord Felwinter himself to avenge the town. Drifter doesn't fight anywhere in there and gets other people to do his fighting for him, which is a pretty standard tactic for him. And yes, it is strongly implied that Felwinter does indeed murder the fuck out of Lord Dryden when he says "Call Lord Dryden. Prepare my Iron Banner arsenal."

But then we get Dark Age Drifter entries where he's gunning down Fallen attackers with quotes like "He had never brought himself to shoot a human. Or anything even resembling a human. Risen included." (Bonus mention: notice "Alright" repeated here and compare to his standard Gambit opening of Alright, alright, alright...") Where he's slipping away from non-violence, specifying, in particular, that he won't shoot a human but will defend himself from aliens.

And then he becomes something else entirely in these amazing entries with what I've been calling his Breakneck crew:

Now Otto's a Sword man. He's all about "craft." Technique. Precision. It's disgusting, but I don't care how he does it, as long as it gets done, so I just let him do it. And Otto does it so beautifully that, when he's done, you're standing there holding your guts in your hands and thanking him for the show.

Never touches a gun, that girl. She likes to get close. Likes to look right in their eyes and be the last thing they see.

The chumps that run out to stop us are babies. That's the kicker with Warlords—other than ours, there's not a Ghost in sight here. Just civilians who can barely hold their guns without wetting their pants, who can't aim worth a damn, who stick their necks out for the bad guys with eternal life. Real geniuses.

Cenric stood up. That vein of his looked about ready to pop. Drifter let his feet down as he reached for his rifle, asp-quick. "And you know what we do with rats, don't you, brother."

And the thing I love about this is the character development this speaks to where he goes from pacifist who won't fight at all... to someone who will use a machine gun competently, repeating "Alright" and getting himself used to killing, but not humans, never humans... to stone cold vicious murder-Drifter talking about the lightless who die to his crew in ways that make them (and himself) seem no longer human, to gunning down his own crew, people he felt were a perfect team, when they make deals with warlords behind his back and lie to him about it.

The Drifter started out adhering to an ideal of nonviolence and it destroyed him and everyone he cared for. His sense of self, his principles, everything he believed in is eroded until he completely loses all hope and in order to survive the cruelty of the world he lives in he becomes a ruthless monster.

Either before or after his Breakneck-era crew (it's not clear), the Drifter (under the name Eli) joins the Pilgrim Guard, a group of Titans protecting lightless people as they travel to the Last City. He does this out of a desire/need to be near Orin, a Titan with a complicated past and strong ties to both Queen Mara and the Nine. But then after spending time with Eli/Drifter and the Pilgrim Guard, Orin, the one person Drifter's ever had a deep human connection with, the person he considers his best friend, leaves without a word.

It's very telling that the green snakes, the jade coin, and the red string on those same coins that form such profound parts of the Drifter's symbolism and identity all come from Orin. When the Drifter truly cares for someone, he incorporates part of them into himself, into his identity, making them part of who he becomes, so they live on inside of him.

After his time with Orin, we get into the extremely confusing, contradictory mess that is the Drifter's intersection with Shin Malfur-related Rose/Thorn/Lumina lore. And by this I mean that the Drifter, after fighting alongside people doing genuinely noble good work, in the wake of losing Orin, leaves the Pilgrim Guard and eventually ends up joining the evil cult of evil: following in the footsteps of one of the most reviled risen to ever exist - the guardian-killer: Dredgen Yor.

If you're gonna hang with me, you need to know about the Shadows of Yor. They follow the edicts of a very bad man named Dredgen Yor. And what're his Shadows after? Everything the Light can't provide. I thought they could help me find an answer to the battles of Light versus Light that raged during the Dark Age. But the longer I flew with them, the more I saw they're blind as all those who follow the Traveler. One albatross for another. I was done with 'em.

And while in the cult, in some sort of ritual, he communes with the Darkness directly and gets some sort of Darkness powers (possibly Stasis, possibly something else - it's super unclear) and the Darkness whispers to him his Dredgen name: Dredgen Hope, which is particularly brutal in context with this quote from Dredgen Yor himself:

I care only to give hope to the frightened, huddled masses so that when I come upon them they will have more to lose. Their pain will be greater. Their screams more pure… Nothing dies like hope. I cherish it.

But it is also particularly pointed because hope is the thing the Drifter doesn't have. Trust is the thing he doesn't have the ability to do any more because of his experiences (and is also the name of the hand cannon he wears shoved into his pants). He is the most jaded (literally - constantly fidgeting with a jade coin) character in the D2 universe. He loses everything and leans in on it and follows that path to full evil.

And then he walks away. Because evil doesn't work for him either.

But also (either before or after he's completely left the cult - it's ambiguous, but possibly when he's still entangled but it's already fracturing and falling apart) he finds Orin again (he's using the name Wu Ming at this point - either having returned to it, or because he hasn't changed it yet from Felwinter Peak, or perhaps this happens before Felwinter Peak - the order and timeline is somewhat fuzzy).

Orin does not remember who he is when he finds her the second time (she's pretty nuts at this point - her story is filled with madness and tragedy), and is going insane with grief over losing Namqi (the person she left with when she disappeared the first time) as well as her obsession with the Nine. And the Drifter is once more drawn to her and once more connects deeply with her:

Wu Ming leaves his questions by the wayside as he is drawn inexorably into the gravity well of her desperate honesty. Her confessions lower his defenses. He talks of himself. Of his fear. Of his loneliness. How he feels he is one fingernail away from plummeting into an abyss. How he feels vicious resentment every time he is brought back from the dead: He never asked for the gift of the Light... They make excuse after excuse to meet again. Every conversation is colored by excavated truths; every day they feel they will reach some bedrock that will break them to pieces. It is as frightening as it is intoxicating.

But then Orin finds out about him being a Dredgen, terminates their relationship, goes off to become the Emissary of the Nine and, as someone I was talking with once referred to it: 'it was a breakup so bad he had to leave the solar system.'

Things go very poorly the first time the Drifter loses Orin but the second time is far worse. He has a full-on Lovecraftian 'At the Mountains of Madness' style horror-movie-plot experience with a crew he calls his 'best friends' (which may or may not be all ex-Dredgens but there's at least evidence they might be) out on a frozen planet being stalked and driven to insane levels of paranoia by Darkness creatures able to snuff out their light:

I think I mentioned we're all raving psychos at this point. Well, we did what all measured raving psychos would do. We thought we each had been betrayed by the others. We drew on each other.

The Drifter kills them all to keep them from killing him (at least, that's what he says - no one else is alive to argue). Then his ghost, who up until now has been kind of a moralistic asshole, suggests he hunt down the ghosts of his former crew and Frankenstein them together in order to survive:

And the craziest thing happened. My Ghost snapped... But we would need parts. Ghost parts. And we knew where we could get some... The Ghosts of my former crew all fled as soon as their charges hit the dirt. So me'n mine, we hunted them... "Hey. There's always hope. For what it's worth, I'm proud of you." It was the last thing my Ghost ever said, and the last lie it ever told.

The Drifter's ghost is rendered mute from the experience (either mechanically or due to the trauma of hunting down and murdering other ghosts - it's not clear) but the plan works, they survive, and the Drifter builds the Derelict out of scrap, returning to the Tower where he sets up Gambit.

It's super unclear (again, the Shin-related lore is just a mess and deliberately confusing) but it turns out that Drifter going on about how the Man with the Golden Gun is out to get him is actually a deal he made with Shin to set up Gambit (because, spoiler: the leader of the entire Dredgen cult, Dredgen Vale, turns out to be none other than Shin Malphur, the Man with the Golden Gun, who hunts Dredgens and who the Drifter has been saying is out to get him this entire time) to draw out the truly Darkness-corrupted guardians so Shin can kill them. (And this is ultimately why the Vanguard lets him run a fighting ring in the basement - because Shin convinces them it will help find the truly bad guardians so they can be eliminated).

If you find that confusing, that's because it is. Anything to do with Shin Malphur/Dredgen Yor/Rose/Thorn/Lumnia is pretty much an acid-trip, continuity-wise. It hurts my brain.

As for where the Drifter gets the weapons he gives us for Gambit? To the surprise of no one, he's stealing them. Because of course he is. It's him.

While running Gambit, he ends up visited by the Emissary of the Nine (formerly Orin - same body, different person) and has the Haul attached to the Derelict as a 'gift' in this amazing cutscene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFtmr___dSw

And he pretty much stays in "shifty morally ambiguous guy in the basement" mode until Arrivals when the pyramids show up on Io and we get one of my favourite lore tabs in all of D2: Whispering slab.

The two sit. They speak. They listen. Linkages forged in Light and Dark of traded secrets as the Derelict hangs in orbit around the Earth. Pacts are made. Soon, there is only the silence of knowing left between them.

"Next time you fly over the Moon, dust your boots. Tracking that crap all over my floors."

Both of the Drifter's deep emotional entanglements with Orin happen when he really genuinely talks to her, and now in Whispering Slab, he's genuinely talking to someone else, plus we get the origin of why he calls that someone else Moondust.

Then, during Arrivals, we get the amazing banter between him and Eris, and in Beyond Light they learn to control Stasis together with the result being (in my highly subjective opinion) the best cutscene in all of D2 : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQAB-sSi6P0

At the end of Haunted we get Eris' message to him about healing and finding joy , he has this line in Plunder "What we do now matters more than who we were", we end up with the Kept Confidence lore tab during Season of the Witch where the person who previously insisted he trusted no one now is saying: "He didn't trust them. He trusted her" and then in the Gloaming Journeyer tab, he pulls her into a hug and reminds her of what she told him once (in the Prophesy dungeon dialogue): "That we'll live in the night if we have to. We do it for what comes after." (What comes after is dawn, hope, the continuance of existence after the darkest point.)

Someone in a chat I was in once summed up the core dynamic of the Drifter and Eris' relationship perfectly as "He gives her trust. She gives him hope."

There are people online who are very frustrated with the Drifter's character development, feeling that the Drifter has 'had his teeth filed off' and that he 'got his depression cured by getting a goth girlfriend' but I feel that's just people who don't like change. The Drifter has, throughout his entire storyline been constantly changing who he is. Change is part of his many self-constructed identities which he re-creates over and over as his old sense of self is destroyed and remade. Gritty vicious Drifter is still in there and he will be just as brutal as ever if he needs to be.

He doesn't want to be, though. He never has. And as someone who deals with medical-grade depression and who found themselves in a situation where they needed to reconstruct a sense of self to replace the one that was lost, the Drifter finding a way to hope and trust again after all he's been through is an extremely powerful and poignant narrative which speaks to me on many levels.

It's not trite, thoughtless happy fluffy rainbows, friendship-fixes-everything-whee! It's painful and slow and beautiful as the Drifter learns to have healthy relationships with other people. We need stories like this to speak to us at an unconscious level and tell us that even if you're not Eris Morn and you failed, and you gave up, and you didn't make it out of the Hellmouth, and you in fact gave in to despair and completely lost all hope, your experience erasing who it was you were and having that old you replaced with someone else, you can still find hope again. Even if you've been burned so severely by so many, many, negative human interactions that you cannot trust anyone, if you find the right people, you can slowly learn how to trust again.

The Drifter's story has been called a redemption arc, and I guess in a way it is that too but, for me, the essential quality of the Drifter's narrative isn't redemption: it's healing.

Stories have power. We incorporate them into who we are. Dredgen Hope ultimately does live up to his name. Within D2 he is finally starting to heal. I find that idea, of healing in spite of being so altered by one's experiences as to have had to become an entirely different person in order to survive, of being unable to trust and still finding a way to learn how to trust again, to be important and beautiful to have in my subconscious as something to draw from. It is a story that is very much needed by a lot of people. We need to be reminded that we can be irrevocably changed and have everything taken from us and still find a way to trust and hope and love again. That might seem a bit much for a shooty game, but I maintain this is why D2 has some of the best storytelling of any game I've ever played and that the character of the Drifter is a huge part of what makes that storytelling so compelling.

Sorry this took so long to answer. This seriously was as short as I could make it and still say everything that I felt needed to be said. There's more, and more detail, of course, but this is my treatise on why the Drifter is as awesome as I think he is.

That is all.

#the drifter #destiny 2 #ask me more things!#lore dump of doom #damn this was long #but so is drifter's life - dude is one of if not the oldest one!#drifteris #eris morn #drifter/eris #the drifter/eris morn #lore ask #lore #destiny lore

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kylorengarbagedump · 3 months ago

Text

Playing Soldier: Chapter 7

Read on AO3. Part 6 here. Part 8 here.

Summary: The longest stay you've ever had from home is about to become much longer.

Words: 5000

Warnings: Medical trauma

Characters: William Tavington x Reader

A/N: Cowritten with @bastillia <3

Off we go into the field! We are loving your comments, your thoughts, your excitement and engagement in the story - truly, we are so lucky. I hope you continue to enjoy what we have planned for the future!!

Please credit all of Grace's letter to Bastillia and her genius. Also, please thank Bastillia for her newly formed fixation on the American Revolutionary War - it's because of this we can't help but bring in actual historical figures like they're our blorbos as well, HAHAHA. It's been a lot of fun learning about history and integrating it into the fic (even if The Patriot was not always hyper-concerned about this LOL)

Love you so much! <3

The letter was crisp, addressed in handwriting that swirled across the page like fairy dust. Grace’s penmanship, for certain—something you’d always envied when comparing it to yours, which bore more resemblance to cresting waves in a storm than anything meant for man’s eyes. It had been dated for a little over a week prior.

“Thank you,” you said to Goddard. “You said this was given to you by whom?”

“Major Ferguson,” he said, stepping further into the kitchen. Then, upon glimpsing your expression and perhaps realizing you couldn’t have possibly known who in God’s sweet Holiness that was, he continued bashfully, “The Major, er, commands another unit that was deployed into the backcountry. Lord Cornwallis ordered most of us to return here to Charleston about a day ago.”

You nodded, turning the paper over in your hands. “I see.” What you wanted to ask but didn’t: Does that include Colonel Tavington, then?

It’d been about two weeks since you’d last seen him in his office. You supposed he’d made good on his intention and set out from Charleston that evening. But he’d been in the field since then, and the status of your parole hung in the balance. Ghoulishly, a part of you had hoped he’d been killed in action. Perhaps even more ghoulishly, another, hungrier part of you had wished for him to return.

You’d tried to sate that part with nightly hand-feedings proffered between your legs—but still its appetite rose anew and greedy every morning.

“Who is it from?” said Lottie. “Your sister?” She peered over your shoulder, her red curls bouncing into her face.

Goddard gave a playful frown, running his hand through hair that matched his sister’s in color and texture. “I suppose I’m not offered a greeting?”

Lottie laughed, moving around you and throwing herself into his arms. “Welcome home, Benny.”

You grinned. “Yes,” you said. “It’s from Grace.” You peeled open the wax seal and started to read.

June 10 1780

My Dearest Sister,

Though I write this on only the sixth day since I bade you farewell, I feel it has been a lifetime. You will be glad to know that I was yesterday evening delivered home in most agreeable fashion by the company of a Major Ferguson, who attended to my utmost comfort and happiness the whole journey from Charlestown ; a great improvement, I say, upon the accommodations granted to me thence.

It has been made plain to me that the disruptions we endured, Sister, were the most unfortunate results of misunderstanding. A pity that though I beseech God to upend time, He does not heed me. Impossible notions vex and bedevil my sleep night upon night—would that I might stay Death’s hand before he took Mary and Nathaniel and Elijah and Adam. I can hardly bear to think of them, yet it is with shame and difficulty that I place my thoughts anywhere else.

In my most fitful hours on the road—

“I hate to interrupt,” said Goddard, very irritatingly interrupting. “But I fear the hospital may soon be teeming. We skirmished with militia on the road, and our field medic couldn’t attend every man.”

“Oh!” Lottie looked at you, her brown eyes wide with concern. “We should certainly go and help, then.”

You frowned. You were already feeling a little concerned about Grace’s inclination to Loyalist sympathy in the letter. “Can I not have ten more minutes?”

Goddard shook his head. “The colonel already wishes to depart this evening and needs every possible man made fit.”

So Tavington was back in Charleston. For now.

“Out again?” Lottie said. “But you all only just returned.”

“Yes.” Wincing, Goddard stepped past you both to grab a cloth hanging from the stove. As he wiped his face, he sighed. “Lord Cornwallis is holding a council of war. Colonel Tavington is in attendance with the other commanders, but he hopes to gather more cavalry and depart again by nightfall.” He looked apologetic. “You know how he is.”

You pursed your lips, folding the letter and stowing it in one of your skirt pockets. You know how he is, he’d said, as if everyone in the room all had the same experiences with Colonel Tavington, and everyone in the room all held the same opinion about his demeanor, body, face, hair, hands, and eyes.

And mouth.

“A council of war?” you asked, pushing thoughts of all of William Tavington’s body parts to a corner of your mind that you’d revisit in the evening. “What ever for? I thought the Continental army had left South Carolina.”

“Most of them,” said Goddard, plucking a peach from a bowl on the counter. “But they aren’t the problem. Evidently there’s been a disaster involving a group of Loyalists that the General sent north.” He bit into the fruit and sighed, savoring it.

“What sort of disaster?” Lottie asked, her eyes great dark pools of worry.

Goddard shrugged. “Men died,” he said around a mouthful of peach flesh before swallowing. “Lots of them. Don’t know the specifics. I expect we will be receiving new enlistment quotas, though, especially with these militia pestering us now.”

Lottie frowned. “Perhaps we should—”

“Have you had many encounters with militia?” you asked, your pulse picking up. “They seem to have amassed rather quickly.”

“Putting it lightly,” said Goddard, sighing. “Even with Charleston back under the Crown, it seems the rest of the colony remains determined to resist. We even found a small holdout of Continentals up the Santee.”

“Continentals?” you pressed, struggling to maintain a neutral facade. “I query why they would not have rejoined their forces in North Carolina by now.”

“Seems they received a dispatch following the Waxhaws battle, and stayed.” Goddard shrugged and took another bite of peach. “Tenacious, those men, I’ll admit as much.”

“I’m sure it’s all very interesting,” Lottie said, waving you toward her. “But if the hospital—”

“Did your forces engage them? How many were there?” You spoke just a little too quickly, but you were finding it harder to restrain yourself. “What was in the dispatch they received?”

Goddard raised a brow and glanced at Lottie. You consciously corrected your posture so that he might not think you liable to lunge at any moment. He relaxed.

“I, er, I can’t be certain what it said,” he replied. “I never saw the message.”

You exhaled in frustration. “I imagine you were unable to capture the messenger himself, then.”

“Actually, we were able,” Goddard said. Your heart leapt into your mouth. “Colonel Tavington became nigh on feverish in his pursuit.”

Your next question hung like a noose from your tongue, your body rigid as a gallows. “Who…” You swallowed. “Who was the messenger?”

Goddard furrowed his brow and shook his head, like he couldn’t fathom why you were so interested. “Some boy.” He waved his bitten peach through the air. “A… ‘Martin?’”

You nearly sagged in relief, instead bracing a hand against the kitchen table and affixing a passive expression to your face. “Oh.”

“The colonel made a…” Goddard winced, “compelling example of his family.” He paused, grimacing again. “And of their property.”

“I don’t want to hear of such dreadful things,” Lottie interjected. “Anyhow, we really must be off.” She grabbed your wrist. “Let us not stay the King’s men their care.”

“Yes, of course,” you said, forcing a nod. Though your worry was assuaged, your curiosity was very much not. You had, however, pushed both too far. “Let’s be off, then.”

The morning air was already ripening with heat, sticking to your tongue as you breathed it in. You were glad to be rid of your sling, sweltering thing that it was, before the summer’s wrath descended in full. In the smallest of ways, it was freeing. Even if your shoulder did still twinge with pain from time to time, it grew stronger each day. One less restraint upon your body. And one less reason for anyone to insist you couldn’t be of use.

You had welcomed the introduction of hospital labor into your routine. It hadn't been necessary, but staying in the Goddards’ home on your own only chafed your invisible shackles. Without a distraction, you imagined yourself as an anxious dog pacing in a barren cage. Working in the hospital also gave you the opportunity to collect information while wearing one of the most innocuous disguises available.

And besides all of that—you were good at it.

“I hate that the colonel keeps Benedict away so frequently as of late,” Lottie said as you followed her on the cobblestone. “I worry about him.”

You nodded. “I'm sure he worries about you, too.”

“I’m sure he does,” she said, sighing through her lips in a blubbering sound. “He knows I languish in his absence. It’s so difficult. The loneliness, I mean.”

“The loneliness?” You frowned. “You don’t keep busy?”

She laughed. “Of course I do! But it’s no replacement for companionship. Especially of family. You know as much.” With a playful smile, she added, “Benedict tells me it’s all the more reason for me to be married.”

“Is he pushing you to marry?”

“Not in so many words,” she said. “He does seem invested in introducing me to his fellow officers as often as possible.”

You couldn’t imagine doing the same to Grace. She had been your primary companion in life since your mother had passed—in some ways, more your responsibility than your father’s. After all, for those first few years, you were the only one able to tend to the animals or the crops, you were the only one able to make the meals, or sweep the floors. You would climb into bed with her, hours after she’d fallen asleep, after your father had emptied his glass of gin and you’d gotten him to his room.

Thankfully, your father eventually put down the gin. You didn’t think it was possible to put down responsibility. You didn’t even know if you wanted to.

“I see,” you replied. “Are they kind, at least?”

Lottie snorted. “No,” she said. “Most of the Green Dragoons are utter villains.” She folded her arms protectively over her chest. “I’m much more inclined toward Major Ferguson’s corps. He only oversees men of honor.”

There was that name again, said with the same dreamy insistence that Grace had tried and failed to conceal in her writing.

“Major Ferguson,” you said, as if recalling a long-forgotten acquaintance. “I keep hearing that name today. Do you know much about him?”

“Oh, I dream of it.” She giggled with all of the secrecy of a girl with a crush on a church boy. “I think—besides my brother, of course—he might be my favorite officer of all His Majesty’s soldiers.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Truly?”

“I promise you,” she said, “you have never met a man with greater wit, charm, or passion.” She laughed and gave a teasing smirk. “I think he could convince General Washington himself to throw down his arms and pledge allegiance to the King if given half a chance.”

“I will take your impressions under advisement,” you replied, grinning. You suddenly had an idea who was likely responsible for Grace’s shifting sentiments.

When you arrived at the City Hospital, Lottie dipped off to check on the sick she’d tended to the day prior. You, personally, didn’t see the purpose in conversing with those you had no duties to and decided to sit and read through more of Grace’s letter.

In my most fitful hours on the road, when grief seemed to me a dark and terrible ocean without shore, I was sought by the gracious Major Ferguson, who told most diverting stories and drew from me laughter of a mystifying source. I query whether he may be adept with some beguiling magick to have so oft performed a vanishment of my tears. He is a clever and skillful man as well as kind.

You, I am sure, would think more highly of him than you did Nathaniel, though I fear I am now far ahead of myself, Sister, and must stay my pen lest my flights of fancy make off with me, as you know they are apt to do. I am besieged now by shame to even write it, and know that were you here, Sister, you would soothe me by turning my mind to practicalities. As such, and to ease the pain of your absence I feel again coming upon me, I shall address them. I know the welfare of our home indispensable to your peace of mind, so let me assure you of it.

Despite your growing suspicions surrounding Ferguson, a smile crept over your face as you read Grace’s report on the farm. She listed every crop that had needed tending on her return, the condition of each chicken and goat by name, and included an effusive exaltation of your neighbors who had kindly fed them in your absence.

I do not wish to be alone. Major Ferguson is to depart with his men two days hence—

The delicate clearing of a throat resounded from somewhere to your side.

You snapped from the letter, looking up to see a bashfully pleading Lottie leaning around a doorframe. This version of Lottie was becoming all too familiar given the short time you’d worked alongside her. You let out a sigh.

“Now?” you protested, raising the letter to emphasize that you were occupied.

“Please, oh please,” she stepped into full view to clasp her hands in adjuration. “There’s so much blood, it’s horrid, and the bone is broken, and—”

“All right, Lottie.” You couldn’t help yourself. You smiled. “I’ll help.”

Down the hall and into the ward, a dolorous assault slammed your senses. Injured men groaned out in chorus, and the scent of blood hung in the air like coppery vapor. Lottie ducked her head and led you over to the hospital physician—Dr. Moore—who was hovering over a badly wounded man. From what you could tell, he was a young infantry soldier, his coat removed and head wrapped in bandages. Blood smothered his face, dirt smattered his legs, and his right arm was stripped of clothing.

At least, you believed it was his arm. In its current state you couldn’t imagine it being of much use for any purpose other than occupying a dog’s mouth.

“Go on,” Lottie murmured, urging you forward. “I—I’ll be ill.”

Moore caught you both approaching and adjusted the spectacles over his nose. “Charlotte,” he said, testing with his fingers what some might call flesh, but you’d probably call meat. “Where were you? I need your assistance setting the bone.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I, um, I…”

He frowned. “He doesn’t have all day, Miss Goddard.”

She elbowed your ribs, and you hopped forward with a wince. “Actually,” you said, “I’ll assist in her stead, doctor.”

“Hm?” He looked up, squinted at you. “Poultice girl?”

You nodded, even though you'd introduced yourself multiple times. “My name is—”

“Fine, yes. Come now. Hold this for me. Just there above the wrist.”

As you stepped to assist, Lottie quickly backed away, turning pale beneath her freckles as she watched you support the bloodied, blue-mottled limb. “Oh, yes, thank you so much,” she said, turning away, “I’ll be right, ah, right down that way, so, not too far!”

“Hold on, Charlotte,” said Moore. “We still might need you.”

She whinged. You weren’t fully sure how she served in medicine when she halfway lived in fear of it.

Standing by Moore, you propped up the soldier’s wrist and elbow. He stiffened and groaned through his teeth, seeking out reassurance in your eyes. Why yours, you didn’t know—you had no words of wisdom to offer him and didn’t particularly care to think of any, especially when he was impeding the work with his wooden limbs. Lottie swept to his side and patted his other shoulder, keeping her focus on his face.

“It’s all right, sir, we’re going to take care of this quickly, I promise.”

He winced, nodding, and loosened in your grip. You glimpsed her for a moment, her gaze like a deep, warm embrace. This part came as naturally to her as yours did you.

It ached, how much she reminded you of Grace in that moment. The last line you’d read of Grace’s letter—I do not wish to be alone—pricked your heart like a needle. You did not wish for her to be alone, either. You did not wish to be here, in Charleston, spending time gathering scraps of information when you knew she waited as the tender, vulnerable center of your home.

Moore started to work, and you stood still, bracing the soldier’s arm as he wiped away the blood. Even if granted leave, however, you were uncertain if you wanted to return home. The threat of the British grew greater in South Carolina, and under the supposition that both Grace and you were Loyalists, you could maintain a semblance of safety. Especially with your father’s condition still unknown and Tavington still itching for the opportunity to wring all of your necks.

Behind you, the clicking of heels. “And this is our most esteemed physician, Dr. Henry Moore.” It was the matron of the hospital. “Dr. Moore?”

“A bit busy right now,” Dr. Moore said. The soldier groaned as Moore palpated the skin on his forearm, coaxing the severed halves of bone together beneath.

“Can you take a moment?” she asked, before walking toward the other end of the ward. She tossed over her shoulder, “Colonel Tavington wishes to speak with you.”

Your eyes widened. You turned, met Tavington’s gaze and flinched, jerking the soldier’s arm. He howled in pain, and you grumbled, grabbing a wad of unused bandages and stuffing them in his mouth. He whimpered into them. Dr. Moore sighed, manually readjusted your grip, and got back to work on his sabotaged bone setting.

Tavington, meanwhile, regarded you as you imagined he might regard a body climbing to its feet after he’d gutted it. His right hand flexed absently at his side. All you could do was stare at him completely normally and not at all like a bolt of excitement had zipped through you at the sight of him.

He cocked a brow, his focus flicking over you before he turned to Moore. “Dr. Moore—”

“Busy.”

“—the British legion requires your services immediately.”

“I’m sure you believe your needs to be of great importance, Colonel, but—”

“The field medic I’ve currently retained is indisposed.”

“—as you can see, Charleston keeps me preoccupied as is.”

“You should be prepared to depart as early as this evening.”

Moore paused with a sigh, and turned to face Tavington. “Colonel, I make no assumptions regarding the frequency with which you hear this word, but no.”

Tavington’s eyes fluttered as if the doctor had clapped in front of his nose. “Perhaps you believed me to be making a request, doctor,” he replied. “I was not.”

You pinched your lips between your teeth. Moore had stopped his work on the soldier’s arm entirely. Silent, you caught Lottie’s attention from the corner of your sight, and found her face flush with anxious warmth.

“Colonel,” Moore said, with even more exasperation than the previous time, “I am the only physician in Charleston—perhaps all of South Carolina—at present. I cannot abdicate my duties here to ride with cavalry all night.” He stared at Tavington, who did not move or even shift his expression, like Moore was a fussing baby. “But I can—all right. Listen.” Moore looked at Lottie, then back to Tavington. “Miss Goddard here will be able to serve your needs adequately, and she has the added benefit of having no additional responsibilities aside.”

Lottie tensed, her gaze darting between Moore and Tavington. “M-me, doctor?” With a nervous smile, she said, “Of course, it would be my honor, but… would it be possible for my friend here to join me?”

“Your friend?” said you, the doctor, and Tavington at the same time.

“Please,” Lottie whispered, looking at you. She turned to Dr. Moore. “She’ll be a great help to me.”

Moore sighed and grabbed two splints, lining them up along the man’s forearm. You didn’t blame Lottie for wanting you there. But this would mean you wouldn’t return home. It would mean more time Grace would spend alone. You pinched the splints together, and the soldier whined, muffled by the bandages. As he twisted his head, blood trickled down his cheek, right in Lottie’s line of sight. She choked, turning to try and cough away her clear growing nausea.

“If you insist, Charlotte,” Dr. Moore mumbled as he started the bandaging process.

Tavington, who was watching with winnowing patience, looked at you. “Unfortunately,” he said, “your friend’s freedom does not extend beyond the borders of Charleston.”

You frowned. “But my intelligence was valid.”

“Yes,” he said, “but it did not produce the promised results.”

“A dispatch rider was found and detained, was he not?”

Tavington’s brows raised fractionally. “What was not found was a certain Captain Michael—“

“I am not my father’s keeper,” you growled, shifting more to face him. The soldier whined again and you shot a leer at him. “Shall I next beseech the pagan gods to divine his location, Colonel?”

Lottie glanced at you wide-eyed, alarmed at the tone you were using with a colonel of the British army. “She’s overworked from all of the injured we need to treat,” she offered. “She doesn’t mean that, Colonel Tavington.”

“She does,” he said, still focused on you. He stepped forward, voice lowering. “Divine? No. Reveal—given the insight you possess—yes.”

You snorted. Moore grabbed another roll of bandages and started using it to constrict the soldier’s arm. “If you are still unable to locate my father after everything I’ve told you, I hardly—”

The man groaned in agony, and you realized you’d started tightening your grip as you spoke. You relaxed, and he groaned louder.

Tavington sighed. “Do shut up, Private.”

Your face scrunched, almost amused. The man settled, and you took a breath. “I hardly believe that’s an issue with which I need concern myself.”

“I would say your investment in your father’s life concerns you a great deal,” he replied.

“Alas, but I cannot serve as your prophet, though you flatter me with the notion.” You shrugged. “All of those men under your command, and no success. Perhaps there’s a deficiency somewhere you need to address.”

Lottie hissed your name under her breath. “Please don’t make this harder on me.” Then, turning to Tavington, big brown eyes pleading, said, “I beg of you, Colonel. She’s simply tired. I’ll vouch for her myself!”

“Do you want to take them or not, Colonel?” Moore was tying off the second round of bindings. “If not, I’ll ask you to kindly and politely depart the ward so I can continue getting work done. You may have noticed this, but we’ve a couple dozen of your men here who need my assistance.”

Tavington’s tongue rolled in his mouth, and his eyes met yours. There you found the curiosity you’d spied while in his office, familiar glimmers of interest as he studied you. You swallowed, holding his gaze, wondering what exactly was going through his mind, wondering if he could see your speeding pulse. His head tilted, his chest fell in an exhale.

“And you… You wish to come.”

That really was the question. Your participation in this war had already dumped guilt onto your back as you unceremoniously condemned strangers to suffer and die. The thought of going along with Lottie brought a new deluge of emotions, some of which you worried would war fiercer than the soldiers in the field.

A terrible guilt for abandoning Grace. An even more terrible sadness that you wouldn’t know when you next would see her. And perhaps the most terrible excitement at the thought of waking daily and sleeping nightly within the domain of the most despicable bastard you’d ever met.

Despite it all, you knew that if you kept up the Loyalist facade, Grace would remain safe at home. Your father was the one in danger. And if you were out in the country with his primary—and deadliest—pursuer, you had the highest chance of protecting them both.

All you had to do was stay alive.

“I do, Colonel,” you replied.

“Both of you,” he said, with some amount of dread.

That wasn’t a question, but Lottie nodded anyway. “She’ll be an asset to you, Colonel. A great asset. I promise!”

“I somehow doubt that very much,” he mumbled. “Very well.” He turned to Dr. Moore, who still couldn’t be bothered to look at him while he wiped off the remaining blood from the soldier’s hands and face. “Send them along to the barracks at once. They’ll need to be briefed and supplied before we depart.”

Moore nodded. “Right away, Colonel,” he muttered.

Tavington’s eyes found yours a final time. Whether there was want or warning within them, you couldn’t discern. He turned on his heel and left the ward.

Your shoulders sagged, weight dropping to the ground that you hadn’t known you’d been carrying. Lottie provided you an expression you would’ve described as contrite if there wasn’t so much relief hidden behind it.

“Thank you so much,” she whispered. She rubbed the soldier’s back as he stood and swayed, his arm properly stiff at his side. “Off you go, sir. Get yourself a bed.” Turning back to you, she frowned. “I’m not sure if I can put my appreciation into words, really. I know how badly you wished to return home.”

“Thank you, Dr. Moore,” you said as he stood and moved to the next man. As expected, he did not reply. You shook your head and shrugged to Lottie. “It’s better for me to be doing what I can to serve His Majesty.” You hoped that didn’t sound as contrived as it felt leaving your mouth.

She pursed her lips, waiting for when Moore was out of earshot to whisper, “You have a funny way of showing it, the way you speak to Colonel Tavington!” The horror of your conduct had pinkened her cheeks. “Were you trying to get yourself hanged?”

You frowned. “Of course not.”

“Well, be more careful, then!” She huffed, crossing her arms. “I won’t always be around to rescue you.” She shook her head and brushed her hands down her dress like that would shoo the gore from her person. “Or perhaps he just favors you.”

Your next breath lodged in your throat, and you coughed. “I’m sorry—” You coughed again, straightening. “He what?”

She laughed, nudging you gently. “Oh, you are funny. Imagine, Colonel Tavington favoring anyone,” she said through giggles. “If you’d seen your face…”

“Right,” you said, bizarrely disappointed.

With a sigh, Lottie adjusted her sleeves. “I’ll tell Mrs. Smith that we need to be departing. Oh!” She gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth in delight. “This means that I’ll be in the field with Ben!” With a smile, she skittered over to the matron as she attended an ailing woman.

You tried to grin, but strained your cheeks, deciding to settle into the seat where the soldier had been instead. If you were to be departing with Tavington’s legion tonight, you needed to finish Grace’s letter. You pulled it from your pocket.

I do not wish to be alone. Major Ferguson is to depart with his men two days hence and I must admit that I dread his absence. Already once he has made a most welcome visit to certify my welfare. I told him I was indeed well, but that I should like very much to know the condition of my dear Sister. Though I with most indocile nature demanded his intelligence on the matter, he remained to me gentle and courteous. He wishes it was in his power to oblige me but it is not. He suggested however that should I wish to write you, that he may deliver you my Letter when next he is called to Charlestown. A gallant and charitable offer indeed!

Despite Papa’s endless grievances of the British army I believe he construes them all unkindly. Perhaps every one he encountered was akin to that murderous devil we so unfortunately met. In that case I should understand his misgivings.

A sense of irritation grew in your chest. You decided you didn’t particularly care if this man Ferguson was in fact Jesus Christ himself rose from the dead. The fact he was busy using your sister’s naivety to his advantage made you want to crucify him despite it.

Murderous devil, perhaps, but at least Tavington…

You paused. You couldn’t think of anything he’d done that wasn’t, in fact, worse.

But enough of wars and men. Never have you and I been apart so long, nor our home so reminiscent of a cavern. How clamorous the sound of my pen in this silence, dear Sister. Pray write me when this letter finds you. Until then I shall look each day to the South road and hope to see you return. Do not fret that I am well. Mrs. Jones has called upon me to come for supper and company, she insists, whenever I feel the pangs of solitude too keenly. For this I am grateful.

Ever, ever I remain

Faithfully and Lovingly Your Sister, Grace

P.S. I am sorry for the words herein whose inking is damaged. Mr. Mouser trod upon this Letter and entreats me now with uproarious meows to attend him.

You smiled as you finished the letter. But your heart wilted. You weren’t sure when you would be coming up the south road, or when you’d be able to unburden Grace of solitude. You knew only that you were making the choices you felt were right to keep her safe. Just as you’d always done.

Dr. Moore had left some parchment out on the table with the medical supplies. You grabbed a few pages of it along with his pen. The letter wouldn’t be long, but you could at least let her know that she did not need to worry. That you wouldn’t be returning home, but you would promise to find her, to see her soon.

You dipped the nib in the ink. You started writing.

#william tavington #colonel william tavington #colonel tavington #the patriot #jason isaacs #playing soldier #oh it's so fun living in 1780 where you had to set bones with. splints.

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bluedalahorse · 5 months ago

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August for the character breakdown game!

Or if someone else already named him, how about [one secondary character of your choice] from YR?

August you asked for, and August you shall receive! I was hoping someone would ask me about him, and I’m really glad you did.

How I feel about this character: Good lord. The absolute perfect storm of what this character did to my psyche. I am not going to lie that I spent a lot of first season (and significant parts of second and third) screaming at him. And sometimes he makes me really mad at him even now! At the same time, he’s well-written and well-acted and terribly interesting, and I have wanted him to be able to figure stuff out and fix his life from the moment I learned that his father died by suicide and he’s dealing with traumatic grief. I have wanted to climb through the TV screen and pluck him out of an environment like Hillerska. August is such a fascinating example of the way the system fails even those it’s supposed to protect. I just want to break him out of the system, and write him into new situations. In conclusion, what a tragic blorbo I seem to have acquired. (Totally valid if he isn’t other people’s but I see why he’s mine.)

All the people I ship romantically with this character: First and foremost, Sara. I have a weakness for them as two weirdos who see a similar sort of loneliness and want in one another, who get drawn together even though there are plenty of reasons that that’s a bad idea. There are so many stories that can be written about them still. I think Sara breaking up with August was where their relationship needed to be at the end of season three, but I’m not ruling out futures-with-growth-and-therapy or alternate universes. They have the potential to be just as epic as any other pairing on the show! Outside of Sara… well, in my Nils post I talked about how much I ship August/Nils, and how there’s so much there that is currently untapped by fandom. And then Simon/August and Alexander/August are ideas that intrigue me, even though those are more in the realm of deliberate disaster fics.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: I came out of season 3 really enjoying the terrible preppy boy friendship trio so August and Nils and Vincent’s friendship dynamic fascinates me. As someone who went to an odd little college with a lot of traditions, I could relate to it a lot. The people who’ve been in close quarters with you, who you’ve had fun with, but who you’ve also been jealous of and you’re constantly on one another’s nerves… man. I really felt seen by that kind of complexity! I also have to admit I have a soft spot for August and Wille’s relationship, since Malte and Edvin have a lot of chemistry together, and because it seems like August and Wille’s healing is so interdependent. I could talk about that for ages, really.

My unpopular opinion about this character: I cannot even pick one to share because I’m fairly sure most of my opinions about August are unpopular. Liking August itself, in a way a fan does where you want to write fanfic focused on him or ship him with other characters or envision a more healed future for him—even if you repeatedly write multiple paragraph disclaimers about the harm that he did—kind of feels unpopular. And I wish it was a little less unpopular. And maybe my unpopular opinion is that the unpopularity of this opinion (August is indeed worthy of our fannishness) is not wholly by accident. I have no beef with the portion of fandom that just doesn’t particularly like him and doesn’t care to explore him in fanworks. Sometimes you don’t like the dark-haired Byronic asshole and that’s a valid personal preference! And for some people, engaging with August as a character isn’t something they can do with full emotional safety, and I would never want people to have to engage with him if that’s the case for them. He does do legitimate harm. At the same time, there is also a second current in fandom that is actively hostile to fans engaging with August in a fannish way, that uses language in a way that reduces him to his absolute worst deeds and does bad faith readings of any post that dares to explore him beyond the harm he does. I’ve heard stories of sargust edits on TikTok getting endless hate comments, and talked to writers who’ve wanted to write August-centric fic but figured it wouldn’t be worth not getting many hits. I’ve watched an adorable video where Edvin and Malte get interviewed together, only to see that the comments section was full of fans demanding Omar be in the video and not Malte. And I’m just thinking… why are people tearing stuff like this down? Why get angry about there being the bare minimum of nuanced August content out there? It’s not erasing any of the tens of thousands of Wilmon fics and edits. It’s not giving August more screentime in the show or having him take over as main character because the show is already finished. The way that Sara (and by extension Frida) gets caught in the crossfire is doubly upsetting. The lack of August and sargust and nilgust fanworks may be partially due to lack of interest on the part of some fans, but I can’t ignore that active hostility on the part of other fans has also played a role in who sticks around fandom and what they create. And that makes me terribly terribly sad. Because I look at other fandoms and it looks like they have more room for nuanced approaches. Like Interview with the Vampire fandom is having so much fun with Devil’s Minion and I don’t think we have anything like that.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish August and Simon had more of a chance to interact in season 3 without Wille there. I’ve talked before about how Wille and Simon have fundamentally different issues with August, and that they aren’t actually as united against him as Wille seems to think when he gets all hypermasculine and protective. I don’t actually think Simon and August could have resolved all their issues in one season, and they might not be able to period. But they might benefit from some kind of restorative conversations, even if those end in a place of non-closure. And there’s a lot that’s similar in their experiences that they don’t even know about. The worst thing is, it feels like the show is aware of this, and maybe had some moments in mind, but then cut them. Like why have that scene in 2.3 where August tells Vincent to shut up when Vincent’s being awful to Simon? Why have Simon be the one who names August’s eating disorder? I feel like they were meant to have more, and maybe it got cut because it didn’t involve Wilhelm. And honestly that makes me so sad, too.

This got horrendously long-winded and I apologize. But hopefully my answers were worth reading!

#young royals #august horn of årnäs #asks

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pardonmydelays · 2 months ago

Note

what do you love the most about twenty one pilots?

i fucking love this question, but there's no easy answer to it. i guess i'm gonna have to try tho, because sometimes i feel like maybe some of you don't really understand WHY i totally changed my entire blog when clancy came out (it's kinda like me loving this band was my biggest secret for such a long time, idk. i still remember how a few months before it i've mentioned something and anix literally yelled at me like "WHY THE FUCK YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU LIKE TWENTY ONE PILOTS" lmao. anyway).

first of all, no one has ever made me feel so seen and understood. there's real magic in tyler joseph's lyrics, you might hate me for what i'm about to say right now, but speaking of tortured poets - for me it's not taylor, it's tyler. and the scariest part of it all is that i very often relate to his lyrics. but that's also beautiful - it's therapeutic in a way. so when clancy came out and i realized i relate to pretty much EVERY song on this record, i just thought to myself, oh lord, how did i survive this long without their music. it's always been them for me. i will never abandon them again, i swear.

second thing, the lore. you all know i'm a slut for stories told through music (*cough* musical theatre *cough*). also, if the plot of the story is complex and weird as fuck, there's a pretty big chance it will become my favourite thing in the world. the entire lore is an insane metaphor for mental health struggles so, obviously, i can find a part of myself in it. i would die for their lore, honestly. it's all i can think about. and clancy will always be my fucking blorbo.

another thing i love a lot about them, and it's something you don't really see if you don't watch their interviews or live performances, they are literally just two dudes. both josh and tyler have always been very anxious and awkward and weird and that's what makes them more human in my opinion - just two fucking idiots who are best friends, lmao. they are so relatable in every possible way. they are also the funniest dudes in the entire world. and their friendship is so fucking beautiful. the only difference between us and them, truly, is that they are extremely talented and they have their own band.

also, they care about the clique so fucking much, this was probably mentioned on my blog before (maybe even today in a previous ask). they don't care about the charts, about awards, about anything really, all they care about is their music and fans. they don't do it to be the best band in the world. they do it to save lives - our lives as much as their own (if it wasn't for this music i don't know how i would have fought this). and that's what makes them different and honestly, better than the other artists.

they are also pretty much unproblematic. i wasn't really sure if i should mention that, but i feel like i need to. tyler joseph made one stupid mistake a few years ago - the way people reacted to this still breaks my fucking heart. he realized he was wrong tho, he apologized. the other day i saw a post here on tumblr about how he's fucking problematic and racist and the worst man on the planet etc etc. can we... fucking stop, please. it was just a stupid joke and he knows it was dumb and unnecessary. most people wouldn't even apologize, but he did. end of story. i will defend him with my life (not saying he is perfect, but shit, if you want to cancel him for one mistake maybe you should look at yourself first).

i feel like there are thousand different reasons but i'm just gonna stop here, because it's too fucking long already and no one will read it anyway.

#i don't know #i tried #there is probably much more to say here but those are like main reasons for me #thank you for this incredible question #it was fun!!!#and here we are writing another essay #i love twenty one pilots questions please keep them coming #i could talk about them all day every day #anon #i saved every letter you wrote me*

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illarian-rambling · 4 months ago

Text

@davycoquette with the fun question games again!

Get to Know the Writblr

Gonna put this under a cut because it got long, but feel free to treat this as an open tag if you want to hop on!

On the Tumblr Writing Community:

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Since the beginning of the year, maybe? Sometime in February, I think.

What led you to create it?

I was feeling pretty lonely having no one to talk to about my writing. None of my real-life friends are writers and I'm really terrible at expressing my interests verbally, so I figured online might be the place to go. So far, I've been right!

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

Oh, the people, for sure. It's incredibly rare that I come across anyone being less than supportive on here. No matter our skill level, I really feel like every writer on here has a sense of being in this shit together.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Hmmm.... I'm pretty open about sharing things about myself, so idk if there's anything major I haven't touched on yet. I wake up at 4am every morning for work, so if you see me posting at an egregious time, that's why. Also, if you ever want martial arts tips for your fight scenes, I'm your gal!

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

I love it when people make memes of their ocs. Makes me giggle every time.

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

You gotta interact with people. I know it can be scary, but even a reblog with no tags can make another writer smile. Chances also are, if you leave a nice comment on someone's work, they might check you out and leave a nice comment on yours! A community isn't a community unless you go out and commune :)

WIP it Good:

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Lately, I've been juggling writing my first draft of Mortal God book 3 (tentatively title being The Machinations of Machine and Man) and going over @kaylinalexanderbooks lovely comments on MG1. My ghost ship project is also on a low simmer in the back of my brain, but I'm trying to leave that until I'm done with MG3.

How long have you been working on them?

Good lord, I started MG1 about... almost two years ago now? Damn, it feels like it's been so much longer. But hey, three book drafts in two years ain't bad! Honor's Outcasts, which is largely written by now, I started about three years ago.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

The two main characters of MG started as a vague daydream, which then became two important dnd npcs along with MG's main villain. I ended up liking them all so much that I wrote a short story which became *drumroll* three entire books! A lot of my inspiration came from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and the Foundryside Trilogy of books. I can't think of anyone specifically who inspired the characters, except that Astra was originally based on the archetype of the silent wandering cowboy/samurai as seen in a lot of Kurosawa films and old westerns. For anyone familiar with her, uh, things changed quite a lot.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

At least ten percent of my brain's storage is dedicated to my wips at all times. As for how often I'm actively thinking about them... it's also quite a lot.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"Uh, fantasy stuff?" is my go-to.

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

I really wish I had the ability to explain my wips as succinctly with speech as I do with writing, but alas. I would want to give a nice, book jacket blurb that doesn't give away too much of the crazy shit.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos:

Name any characters you created.

I think I'm really good at names, so we're gonna go down the list!

Izjik Meautammera

Sepo Kaiacynthus

Twenari Undetasib/Devaris

Djek Kagura

Astra DuClaire

Mashal Darezsho

Ivander Montane

Elsind Cavernsight

Duchon Avymere Kalaphon Spearsong III

Faalgun Falani

Nyda Burningrock

Kaulakri Ondohuroata

Pashananath

Anarac Fifth-Blood

Who’s the most unhinged?

Unhinged in terms of violence? Sepo for sure. Unhindered in terms of sheer chaos? I'm gonna go with Izjik and Djek as a duo. Between both of their high charismas and low intelligences, along with their combined expertise in fighting and creative uses of magic, they're unbeatable.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Probably Izjik. I've been writing in her POV for the longest.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Sometimes yeah, when they do something real stupid. But, then again, I did make them that way.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

I think I know my characters really well and base my plot around their motives, so there really isn't a huge need for control.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

PLEASE!!! FEED ME ASKS! I'LL TAKE ANYTHING!

On Writeblr Engagement:

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

Probably creativity. I've read a looooot of fantasy/sci-fi, so if you're doing something I've never seen before, I'll probably give you a follow.

What makes you decide against following?

Any kind of hateful rhetoric or someone who doesn't want 18+ interaction. Other than that, I think it's important to follow people who write different genres or have different methods than me.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

I wouldn't say so. I get a little shy doing that.

Do your mutuals�� characters occupy space in your noodle?

The characters of @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff and @somethingclevermahogony all have a little place in my brain. Favorites from each include Robbie and Akash (not to be separated), Narul and Bop (love me a good living weapon/teddybear of a dude team-up), and Nellie and Stellaris (their earnest kindness makes my heart happy). If you haven't yet, you should go check out their stuff and see for yourself!

And with that, thanks for reading! Go out and have yourself a bitchin day <3

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #get to know the writer

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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 8 months ago

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I think the general idea for Batman (and DC/Marvel in general) canon is basically just the multiverse model. Like the mainline comics get respect for being the first one to exist, and of course you get the obnoxious idiots who whinge about how and deviation from the comics is Bad and Wrong, but otherwise the various different shows and movies are all their own seperate canons. Like BTAS Batman has his own canon, with only Dick and Tim as Robins and ending with him passing the Batman identity to Terry, but no one expects that to impact the comics. (Well, beyond massively popular characters from the other canons like Harley Quinn inevitably showing up in comics too.)

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that Batman as a story is big enough and has so many canons that it's really not unusual to be a Batman fan without ever reading the mainline comics.

It's an entry point thing. So take, I don't know, Middle Earth, for example. (Though technically, as broad as that phrasing is, even that isn't accurate because there are other places outside of Middle Earth that are still within the same universe. Don't come at me.)

There's capital C Canon, and that's the original books as penned by J.R.R. Tolkien (though even he dabbled in some metatextual rewriting with the retcon of the Ring between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings but we won't get into THAT right now.) The world of Middle Earth as a whole was created starting in the 1930s as a piece of literature up through J.R.R. Tolkien's death in 1973.

From there, though, it gets trickier. The stories of Middle Earth et al have been transformed and added to in the intervening years. Bakshi created an animated movie in the late 1970s that, because it is told in a different medium, by necessity tells a slightly different story. Is that canon? The live-action trilogies from Peter Jackson in the 2000s and 2010s, those are again different and diverging stories from the books. Are those canon? What about the added materials from Christopher Tolkien, as revised and published from his father's materials by the estate? Are those canon? What about the Amazon Prime television series? The Veggietales movie? They're ALL "Middle Earth" and all likely have functioned as the initial entry point for someone and therefore ARE capital C Canon for someone, but by design or circumstance each displays a different version of events and characterization that will necessarily conflict in small or large ways.

With comic-based canon, it can be even more complicated because Hollywood has a habit of skinning comic properties and dressing up new little blorbos in the names of older comic characters. Even I know the Nolan Batman movies look noooooooooothing like the Silver Age Batman comics and the Birds of Prey Cassandra Cain has no relation at all to any other Canon or canon depiction of her, as far as I'm aware.

So, yes. "Batman as a story is big enough and has so many canons that it's really not unusual to be a Batman fan without ever reading the mainline comics" because defining canon in and of itself is such a HARD and complicated thing to do. And I also understand why folks with a much more simplistic and rigid definition of canon (aka, their own specific, personal entry point to the world and characters) can feel so weird when they encounter someone else with a different definition.

But also I think there's an argument to be made that when the Arbiters Of Official Canon (in this case, DC) have aggressively rebooted and rewritten THEIR OWN CANON so many times without regard for continuity or even inherent internal logic, then there is no absolute authority of Canon or canon and we can all do what we want with the understanding that when you or I or anyone else gripes about "canon" and "characterization" we're speaking only within our own pocket of the bramble.

#I'm not even sure how clear any of that is outside my own head #but I Tried #I need a general ask tag #fandom #fanfic writer problems #fanfic reader problems #batman #batfam

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megamindsecretlair · 11 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @nerdieforpedro 🥳

I'm not sure if anyone's that vested in my upcoming stuff but I love hearing about what's on tap from you and my writing moots so I'll keep the updates coming 🤸🏽‍♀️

There is a lovely WIP game I responded to a few days ago that you can find here. In case ya missed it and wanna see 15 titles I'm working on.

So far, I know I need to update all my series 🤣 I have not lost any love for Loki, Sam, or Vampire Tyrone. But I must obey the muses and the squirrel brain. They play tug of war with me and ya girl is tiredt 👏🏽 and right now, all it wants is to be wined and dined by Tre from Candy Cane Lane. That is a man 👏🏽👏🏽

Do expect some new blorbos 😻😻 I finished Rap Sh!t thanks to an anon and I NEEEED RJ Cyler in my life. Also the guy who played Lord AK. I loved his vibe and I think we need more Black alternative men to lust over. We have Hobie and we need MOOOREE. Also Kevin Atwater chuz when I tell yall the thirst is real 🥹 and fuck it, we going after the JJK mens as well.

I know I have some requests to get to. Dont hate me yall. Sometimes a story plum dont speak to me as quickly as others. And I been slack a lackin' on Franklin fics. I feel like I abandoned my baby 🥺 I aint mean to. S6 just really pissed me off. Dont make me climb on my soapbox why. We'll be here all night 🤣

I have 2 requests for Incubus Tyrone. Which, WHAT. Yall 🥹🥹 thank you so much for loving that story! I will get to him, I promise. But there's also a mob boss Tyrone on the way 😈😈

If you've read this far, I love you. I love your support. Even if its silent. Even if its spam liking. Even if we've never exhanged words a day in our lives. I love you. And may both sides of your pillow stay cold. May your beverage of choice stay the perfect temperature. May you always find an extra $5 when you need it.

Nerdie, you tagged my usual suspects 🤣 so anyones free to join in.

#megaminds updates #wip #wip wednesday #fic updates #wip game #work in progress #if i wasnt sick i could work on these ideas #so many ideas so little time #updates for those who care

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fuck-you-upmusicbracket · 11 months ago

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Space Oddity (David Bowie)

Ground Control to Major Tom/Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong/Can you hear me, Major Tom?/Can you hear me, Major Tom?

"If you've never listened to this song and had a minor mental breakdown, have you even lived? Oh my god.... the stars look very different today... THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG CAN YOU HEAR ME MAJOR TOM"

Poll Runner: Yeah so, has anyone here ever read Wonder?

Lower One's Eyes (Nuyuri)

I wonder how many times I’ll be made to remember it again/It’s only us/If we are to be separated, if we are to lose our way/I’ll make sure we’ll be connected this time, no matter how many times it takes/If you will stay here with me, if I could just keep you from leaving/I’ll make sure this feeling no one else knows —everything I live for— is right.

"Good God. Good Lord. Have you ever wanted to be emotionally rent from your bones by lesbian witch anime Jesus? Now You Can. This song is based on An Urgent Appeal, a short story written by Osamu Dazai - a retelling of the betrayal of Jesus Christ from Judas's perspective. The original story goes from high, reverent adoration and praise to insults, but throughout the whole piece, the purest emotion is devotion. Jealousy and devotion, devotion so powerful it is wrenched and warped into something far worse. It's love so powerful it corrupts. It's codependency. It's loving someone so powerfully that betraying them feels like an act of love in and of itself. It's spiraling so deeply into love that you've lost your way, that you can't go anywhere without their hand, that their hand is gripping your heart and strangling you and you can't breathe anymore. It's doing anything to breathe again. You'd do anything for them. Lower One's Eyes is this, distilled into song form. Aside from the absolutely unhinged blorbo-able emotional basis and absolutely slappin music, the MV for this song is GORGEOUS. The masks that bathe the same scene or silhouette in different colors and patterns are incredible - especially the parts where it shows something else (like the witch's seat being occupied with Madonna lilies, symbolic of the Virgin Mary; or the fact that, whenever the witch is silhouetted, there's always a cross pattern in her shape). The animator went ALL OUT with the symbolism. The Judas trees in the background. The maid (Judas)'s association with yellow, the color that became representative jealousy and betrayal BECAUSE OF JUDAS. The album art showing the maid with a snake coiled around her neck and taking a bite from the original forbidden fruit!!! The witch's earrings being shaped like an ichthys!!!! The level of detail is insane!!! There's probably even some things I MISSED. It's an incredible piece of art both visually and aurally. 25/10 would hyperfixate on for 3 months in a row again."

Lower One's Eyes submitted by @bitter--unicorns

#fuck you up bracket #tournament #polls #david bowie #nuyuri

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docholligay · 1 year ago

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Doc how do you feel about a Harry Potter-inspired YA book that really...wait! Where are you going?

I think the real bullshit tragedy of Harry Potter is: I truly and actually can really, really love magic shit. Magic, and the limits of it, and learning how to master it, these are all things that I can genuinely love. Part of the reason that I am so angry about my own personal True Blood, Shadow and Bone*, is that I LOVE the magic system as she is set up, I love the IDEA behind it, I love that the underpinnings of how they have set it against the Not!Europe at the edge of Not!WW1 is DRIPPING WITH POSSIBILITY.

But so much of this magical school/magic user/fantasy world shit is caught up in God's Specialist Boy Chosen One narratives, which are not interesting to me, an old woman who sees the world won and lost on the back of groups and teamwork. I am no longer fantasizing about being the Chosen One, I am fantasizing about a group of talented people who can communicate and compromise JUST well enough to keep the world going, because that is a fucking adult fantasy world, let me tell you.

It's that and it's Thing One and Thing Two falling in love and that's the central piece and there is no amount of QUILTBAG or racial or cultural identities you could put on Thing One and Thing Two that would make that compelling for me. Have you noticed in my writing there's very few meet-cute, how they got together stuff? It's not just that interesting to me. I like love! Romantic and platonic both! But what matters to me are what those relationships mean to us, and what they make us do, and how they move us in tension with our other ideals. I would much rather open with Fareeha Amari, married, somehow, though she has a clear stick up her sculpted ass, and over time, we see what it is Angela sees in her, what she saw in her when they DID meet, what there IS under all of it, but all of that is SO much more fun when I already know that she has brought the same level of intensity and devotion that she does for everything from military maneuvers to a trip to the grocery store.

But I LOVE magic, especially in less-magic contexts. So for example, I really, for a time, loved the Dresden Files before it really sharply fell off even as pulp. I would ADORE a grown up magical girl story that was really an urban fantasy type. I want Minako to be 23 and trying to make rent. Part of why Shadow and Bone (GOD I AM SO FUCKING MAD ABOUT THIS I BLAME YOU JEWLET) got to me is I loved that the magic users aren't an accepted part of life, that what they do is odd and awed. I have inserted my blorbos into it, of course I have. But yes, i love when the magic is grounded in the BOREDOM of a 'real' world instead of Lorde Filip DuKazmeri of the Throne of Blood and Tears riding in from Happenstance-upon-Milquetoast on his dragon with a Slintergast** at his hip.

ANYWAY, all this to say that when Harry fucking goddamn potter came around, so much magic that is based in 'reality' became patterned after that, and I'm just, so tired of reading it, and I'm so tired of the geegaws and easy morality because fantasy wants rto either be straight Up YA or teehee adult fiction that's mostly a cover for being YA gaymance, and so fantasy and I essentially broke up in like....2009? I want to say? Maybe 2010? Sometime around there, and I rarely drive past its house to see what's going on anymore, the well is fully poisoned now.

*the really bad Netflix television show that is also not good and I recommend to no one. I will not read the books, i have suffered enough.

**sword but like, real cool looking.

#goddamnit this is the only ask i got done #y'all I am not gonna lie this new schedule is brutal for me #I am struggling.

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mamaclownhunter · 1 year ago

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Hehehe oh no people have a ship for Marcus and Leiland- I am not the only one and you guys call it skullkisses.

Ok if you don’t mind I have- I have headcanons

I think at first Marcus wanted to steal Leiland. Now now here me out we see how he treats his crew. So like- the stealing Leiland and making him a part of his crew even in context from.

Zaul'Nazh to Markus’ crew would be a trade up. I think Marcus thought about stealing all the other Lieutenants- but when you think about Lilith and Sokhbarr their loyalties are to their own so stealing them from Zaul'Nazh isn’t possible. They aren’t really there for him.

Efink- I love her- but is so wishy washy and vain she would make the biggest deal about leaving and not love being on a boat 24/7.

Maggie is in the same position as Leiland but WANTS to be her own person. She would love to be recruited because she is Maggie not because she is seen as the lord or shadow’s possession and Marcus is a pirate. Hell Marcus would rather recruit her as a bad ass Devil lady.

But LEILAND- Leiland is seen as a possession and this poor Blorbo would sob if he knew (before his character development). Leiland is a fighter, bad ass and undead, - at some point Marcus sees his face and is like “that would be a face I would like to see everyday with my crew”

So at first it was a little pirate instinct. Take a treasure that is possessed but not loved. Something that would sting if it was gone. Marcus is a pirate he would pick up on Zaul'Nazh’s sleezy behavior but he isn’t here to be fixing relationships.

So at first the flirting (that went over Leiland’s head) and the pitches to join his crew was purely a pirates need to take something from his employer once the job was done (it was all on the contract).

And again! Marcus flirts with everyone on his crew! But he respects everyone on his crew and respects the boundaries! Anne would marry him too but she is trying to work just like everyone else! Bad Henry is just happy Marcus goes along with him trying to put bad in everything. Marcus kisses old Pickering on the head!! Leiland would be treated right!!

Ify states Marcus would show him what was up.

So I think at first it was like a,, there is a word where you go to rival companies and steal their employees.

I don’t think Marcus was out right or super aggressive about it but it was like a fun little thing of “if I can do it I do if I don’t oh well” because this guy was dedicated. But it was fun. Something to do when he was there. Talk to the accountant, get details on the job, flirt with Leiland try to loosen that dedication, then get to work.

Eventually I think he was kinda into Leiland in a different way and he didn’t change any part of his routine, he kept it light and easy, but now he also liked Leiland. Guy was weird once he dropped the dark scary undead thing. He liked drawing and cared about his Vanguri. He was weirdly brilliant and tried reaching out to other branches and being genuinely helpful. He had this weird joviality that again Marcus would like to see in his crew. A weird bitchy ness about him too.

Marcus wanted to steal Kraz-thun but Liked Leiland. Hell he remembered Leiland over Kraz-thun. Leiland was weird, light and likable. Morally grey, brilliant and a bit of a goof ball. So it becomes a more genuine want to recruit him.

Maybe he would be down for make outs on the ship. Open to a relationship. He seems like that type of guy that would do the job and command respect while in a relationship with the boss.

But again there was a long con to it the heavy hitting stuff wasn’t until after his contract was up. Then he would bring in the big guns. But then the big boss dies and completing the contract became more important- then not dying was more important.

Leiland just gets better as the show goes on. Marcus sees it. He wants it. But understands Leiland becomes a parent and his own person but that want is still there. To whisk him away.

Maybe once he is king he will have some freed up time to get back to that.

But basically Marcus st. Vincent is a man who has ambitions first but like as soon as Leiland gives the green flag he is down. No thoughts Leiland is snatched up.

Because he always saw Leiland as a person with value and wanted to steal him from someone who saw him as a possession to shape and I think all the vile Villains are trying to wingman for Leiland because he just doesn’t get it.

Also read this fic I was already quietly liking the idea and mirroring it to myself- this fic embolden me bc I am not the only one who finds Marcus stealing Leiland a 10/10 idea

Marcus should just do it.

#pls #Marcus would treat him so right #skullkisses #Leiland Jr would demand to be ring bearer.#then go spooky and threaten Marcus to treat his uncle right.#then ask Lilith to write a contract before demanding uppsies and getting to nap in Leiland’s arms #Maggie finds the whole thing fucking hilarious

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aq2003 · 10 months ago

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I listened to the tenth doctor song recs and they were all so fucking on point. Also Inertia as a fourteen song ohhhhhh my god. Amazing. Pompeii is for sure a ten song but also the tendonna of it all. Every Will Wood song was SO spot on. I was going to send my favorite lyrics from one of them, but then it became like half of the song, and then I ended up wanting to do it for each one, so just trust me when I say I see the vision. Flight of the Crows made me insane. Similar to the Will Wood stuff I was gonna send some specific banger lyrics but it was just the whole song. 10/10.

(post for context) YEAHHHHH!!!! i am still trying to clean my ten playlist up ie only let in songs that super fit my very specific meaningless criteria and organize it by each of his three seasons so that you can vaguely string together his arc just by listening to the it. it's a difficult balance so it's def a work in progress hdkgldjhfkw

inertia is fun bc i found it and went "woah, fourteen!" then i later found a fancam of him to it. like so true op we are melding our minds together. and pompeii...ohhhh god the tendonna huh. not even in the sense its about donna but like. this song is in the s4 specials/pre-waters of mars section of my ten playlist bc it's her haunting the narrative so bad. this random song can represent the fires of pompeii/waters of mars narrative connection SOOO well

will wood has so many ten coded songs it's insane i think my favorite one that i listen to and think the blorbo thoughts about changes every week. currently feelings the shrimp emotions about against the kitchen floor though bc. The tenmartha huh. good lord. what the fuck

also a couple of the songs i recced (cicada days and flight of the crows) i originally found from this post from @alexmey-does-an-arts, they've got more ten-coded songs there that you might also like!!!

#dr who #10 era #what else. oh yeah i have a flight of the crows amv for ten (and maybe fourteen) in the back of my head #when i'll make it is anybody's guess though

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airenyah · 11 months ago

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QL Wrapped 2023

i was tagged by @nongnaos and @ranchthoughts thank youuu <333

i meant to upload this at the latest by december 31st, but the thing is when i saw the tag i was a little overwhelmed at first bc i didn't know how to fill it out and then once i had it all written out i had a super hard time deciding on what to gif and then it all ended up taking soooo much longer than planned. and now it's already 2024. oops. well, better late then never...

so without further ado:

You watched 12 QLs this year that's about 264 hours!

(i'm counting only qls that started airing 2023 bc i didn't keep track of every single show that i watched and it's a lot easier to count all the 2023 dramas on mdl lmao)

You primarily only watched QLs from Thailand

i blame my bachelor thesis for this which i was writing on the translation strategies of thai to eng and also the fact that i'm learning thai, so any time i watch a series i'm like "do i watch something from a country other than thailand tonight??" only for a little voice in my head to go "yeah but you COULD be spending your evening practicing thai listening skills" so yeah...

You spent way too much time thinking about these characters: Pat Napat Jindapat

listen. LISTEN. i know ok, i know bad buddy is from 2021 not from 2023. however!!!!! bad buddy was part of our skyy 2 and that included my boy pat and so i'm counting it!!!! i'm always thinking about pat napat jindapat ok bye

no for real tho. i am NOT kidding when i say i have spent hours on end thinking about pat in the year of our lord 2023, two full years after the show dropped:

maybe in 2024 i'll finally sit down and write that meta that's been in my head for two years now

Your favorite show was Moonlight Chicken

it's gotta be the chicken show for me. yeah. it just felt so... idk, real in a way. idk how to explain it. i'm not even obsessing over mlc all that much but any time it pops into my head i go all kinds of 😭😭😭 and 🥰🥰🥰

not to mention the firstmix

the heartliming

and most importantly earth and fourth as an uncle/nephew duo??

i am so🥺🥺🥺

special shoutout also to jimbo the cat (left) who looks almost exactly like coco, my family's cat (right):

Another one of your favorites was Last Twilight

just. the way p'aof shows relationships on screen okay. yeah.

i cry

You are still stuck in this hallway:

yeah i've been thinking about the yank-kiss-yeet scene from hidden agenda and joke breaking down afterwards in that very hallway for 19 weeks straight gay. bye.

The soundtracks you listened to the most were:

(according to my spotify wrapped top 5)

Just Friend? (Bad Buddy)

Our Song (Bad Buddy)

น้ำลาย (My School President Cover)

Secret (Bad Buddy)

yeah. i've given up on the "only 2023 media" thing. if we're talking songs only from series released in 2023 then i've got love love love (our skyy 2) on no. 32 and no more empty nights (our skyy 2) on no. 46 on my spotify wrapped

also if you're wondering what the 5th song (on no.3 in reality) from my top 5 was that's missing above where i only mentioned four songs, well, it's none other than tilly birds' same page? which yeah. is also bad buddy related. surprise surprise 🤭

Your overall bl mood was P'Aof

You created 15 gifsets (of which "only" 1/3 were about making other shows about bad buddy)

you can find them here

You shazammed 295 royalty free background music pieces/songs from thai dramas

fun fact: i haven't mentioned this publically yet but since thai dramas keep using the same music over and over again in various series i've actually started collecting the different songs/pieces and i'm planning on making a side blog about it. i just want to go through some more dramas first before i publish anything. so this is something you can look forward to in 2024 dkjfkfdj

currently shazamming my way through bad buddy (you may have seen my blorbo breakdown about pran in the ep4 sleepover scene the other week that was triggered by me shazamming all of ep4). next on the list: theory of love and the eclipse. it takes ages tho, so don't expect it any time soon

Your favorite acting pair was JoongDunk

(is anyone even surprised by this lol)

no but for real whatever these two have going on, i'm intrigued:

i just. i love their energy ok. they're fun. and they're clearly having fun

i couldn't decide on what to gif so here's a little compilation bc fuck it, this is my post and i get to do whatever the fuck i want

(actually there's more that i could have put in there but i didn't wanna waste any more time with posting this tag game and also i was trying to keep the compilation somewhat short lmao)

they are such silly little idiot boys ("little" says the 155cm tall short person about the 180+cm giants 🤭) and i adore them <3

their energy is essentially this meme and i'm so here for it:

and they just communicate so well when they're performing and you never feel like either of them is "alone" on stage (doing his own thing in his own little bubble), it's SUCH a joy to watch!!!! once again plugging two of my all time fave performances that i've been rewatching over and over again for the last 3 months:

youtube

also dunk is just SO little brother-shaped to me idek!! looking at his face just makes me go into big sister mode. it doesn't help that he's only like a month or so older than my actual little brother. AND he reminds me a lot of one of my fave kids from my youth group that i used to go to for years. dunk natachai has klein-andi energy and you all don't know what that means but i know what that means as does my mom and she agrees. so.

tagging:

i feel so ashamed for not making it in time before 2023 ended so i'm not gonna tag anyone but if you see this and you really wanna do it bc you haven't done it yet then please do so and tag me because i say so!!

and mutuals, send me yours bc i'm not sure i saw everyone else's!!!! (@celestial-sapphicss @moonkhao @visualtaehyun @telomeke @waitmyturtles @dribs-and-drabbles did you guys do this already and if yes, send me yours? i must have missed it 🥺🥺🥺)

#my 2023 ql wrapped essentially boils down to ''p'aof dramas + joongdunk'' lmao #as i say in my blog description... i'm a bad buddy blog in its joongdunk era #fun fact: ohm pawat is also extremely little brother shaped to me and idk why #there's something about dunk and ohm that has my brain go #''is anyone gonna adopt these two as little brothers??'' and not wait for an answer #tag game #adrm #also the words ''youth group'' paired with that nickname could be very telling #imagine someone from said youth group also being in the tumblr ql fandom without me knowing and finding this and recognizing it/me #idk how i feel about this... but then again #girl what are YOU doing at the devil's sacrament

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