#fanfiction is its own little world it fascinates me

[lottiecrabie]

Oh I definitely agree. That’s just the reason people that write for omegaverse give 😭

I still think there is a lot to say as to why so many women write so much m/m fan fiction in general. I’ve always found it an interesting conversation bc like you said there’s hardly any f/f fanfiction when compared to the amount of m/m that exists

🪻

they are liarss….. like Not that it is not useful to queer stories But why must women be cut out…….

it really is a strange phenomenon. beyond the fetishism, i often hear that it’s because the female characters are badly written so it’s boring and uninteresting for people to write and engage with them, while the male characters are rich and complex and pairing them together makes for compelling dynamics. which is fair and true for many works, though sometimes there’s also the underlying impression that they dismiss female characters before even trying to like them. i think it’s all around a lot of misogyny from many different places.

[nekovmancer]

Hello, I was wondering if you could make zenyatta and ramattra with Cyborg!Reader like genji, but their body glows if they have too much energy.

overwatch headcanons: cyborg!reader with Ramattra and Zenyatta

warnings: mentions of violence, trauma and such, a bit platonic and… ye, pretty much fine, nothing graphic

a/n: my love for Zen is 100% dear and platonic yet- well, you guys know. RAMATTRA!!! 

will do them separately in the present game timeline and then together back in the monastery and… it’s past midnight here, my eyelids are heavy, but there’s no sleep in between me and writing fanfiction so, sowy for the mistakes ahead, I will correct them tomorrow!! anxiety kept me awake and obligated me to post as soon as I’ve finished, you know

btw!! thanks for requesting. I love to write it and I hope you also enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

OPEN FOR HEADCANON REQUESTS! Send yours here, but read rules first

Ramattra

A Ravager was responsible for your body’s destruction, so it’s only natural you’re shaking on its presence

Back when it happened, omnics were still under Anubis’ control, so it’s not like you blame him or any other R-7000 for their doings

Still, you got these chills running down your spine now that you stand face to face to Null Sector’s infamous leader

But the thrill is even stronger when he proves all your believes to be wrong, being to one to extend a helping hand to prevent your body to overheat

As Genji, your parts were substituted with cybernetics: flesh, muscle and metal bounding into one thing to keep your alive

Though, you weren’t lucky to be shaped by doctor Ziegler’s careful hands, which lead to several problems, including the overheating itself, caused by your frenetic running while trying to escape Toronto during the Invasion

Ramattra saw you and couldn’t help but be… fascinated 

You were not an omnic, so his helmets were useless, still you’re shaped in metal, no sight of skin showing. A human, without humanity’s resemblance 

He caught your heartbeats, their rhythm more and more violent, growing exponentially as the glow from your cybernetics, a flashing red of warning

He’s so intrigued he founds himself kneeling in front of you, one hand reaching out while you press your back to the wall behind you; no way to run out of this

“Hush now. If I was to hurt you, why the ceremony?” 

His words had logic, true, but fear was devouring you

The last time you were this close to a Ravager was the last time you still had much of your organic body parts

“I may be of help, if you let me” 

What choice did you have anyway? If he didn’t kill you, your body would do the job alone 

 Ramattra escorts you to safety, and ironically it means the very ships vomiting killing robots a while ago

You stay in his workshop as it takes little time for him to figure out how to cool down your body, and the glow is long gone by the time he’s done

“Not an omnic, yet not fully human…  where do you find a place for one as yourself in this doomed world?”

Here’s the thing: you don’t

That’s why you accept his offer to stay, despite all of your fears

In the end, the hands who once destroyed you were the same who saved you from death

Zenyatta

Omnics and humans coexisting peacefully was a metaphor to your own state: both human and machine sharing the same body, trying to not repel one another

A heart of flesh habitating a chest of metal, you tiptoed the lines between the two worlds, but you didn’t felt as part of any of them

Still, you find solace in the words of a monk by the name of Mondatta. He spoke of hope and understandment, of peace above the conflict. Without even knowing, he brought balance to your turmoil; past and present

But hope was a dangerous thing for the ones like you, if there was anyone else sharing the burden of a dreadful existence as yours

And you’re quick out of reasons since Mondatta’s death

You weren’t welcome among the omnics, and humans saw you as a freak. Any chance of normality was eradicated 

As a last act of faith, you did Aurora’s peregrination to Shambali. You didn’t know what to expect, but surely the villagers near the monastery left a very bad impression

Along with the exhaustion, you entered the sacred halls with your cybernetics glowing red, a flash of the eminent chaos that would erupt if you’re not stabilized quickly enough

A monk comes to your aid, and by staring at his faceplate alone you can feel something different stirring within you. A long lost calmness tossing your circuits errors aside

You wouldn’t forget his name not even in a million lifetimes: Zenyatta, the one who offered you a place to rest after your journey, and the very first to be interest in you

His genuine interest, plus the care, was touching. No one ever did anything similar to you, not after Talon decided you could still be a soldier even without most of your body

Which led to you running away, not soon enough to prevent Doctor O'Deorain  from damaging your body though. Another monster carefully constructed to be Talon’s pawn, no matter how much pain came from it

But you’ve already paid the price for your mistakes, and one thing is for sure: you’re no monster

Among the monks, you could feel that familiar peaceful feeling lingering under your skin, resonating through the circuits of your cybernetics

For once, you did not felt cast aside, most thankful to Tekhartha Zenyatta

His harmony orbs helped to regain a balance you thought to be long lost, and not only: the chaos within you, something you tried to ignore, was embraced as it should be also cherished 

“No living being is completely pure, nor completely evil. We’re both our strengths and flaws: to deny one existence in detriment of other is to deny yourself.”

Even the worst of you was forgiven; by him first, and you last. Where you felt shame for your wrongdoings, Zenyatta pathed a lesson that erased your doubts

Through meditation, you found not only peace with your inner self, but with the world surrounding you

The balance of energy through your body presented you with a new glowing: not the crimson red of tiredness and rage, but a warm yellow that irradiates warm as a small sun; the energy of the Iris found you

“My dear friend, I bathe in the light of your soul. May it keep us sheltered during the dark times ahead of us.”

Ramattra & Zenyatta

When the brothers found you, they first thought you were an omnic

Judging by the people screaming around you, tossing stones, displaying the worst of their violence and, of course, the fact your whole constitution was pure metal

It’s only when they take you to the monastery that they knowledge the other side of your face, the one that’s still flesh 

No questions were asked, but none of them are naive. Being a cyborg meant something, and this something tiptoed around the lines of violence

And despite it all, cyborgs are quite rare. Especially ones glowing as you did, with your joints pulsating with energy

It was easy to distinguish your humor by the light radiating from your body: usually soft, it could be oversaturated when your humor reached peaks, transiting through a rainbow of colors depending on what you had in your mind

At first, a light tone of red flashed whenever they approached. Despite being your saviors, you still felt a bit of distrustfulness towards them

Humans saw you as an aberration, and you did not have too much time with sentient omnics to put their behavior to test. Not that you felt inclined to do so. To deal with humanity’s rejection was enough

Zenyatta was patient, but Ramattra… no metal in this world could undo the fact you were a human. And he also had his share with humanity to know how incredible terrible they can be 

That’s why, maybe, it’s easy for you to approach him 

Ramattra resented humanity, despite his best efforts to find harmony through his want for peace and his desire for revenge. Not that you had the guts to do anything but lament over your own dismay, but… you could relate

Zenyatta, on the other hand, touched your deepest cravings for being a better person, standing above those who abused you. You did not wished for violence, despite your rage: to be comprehended was your key 

And both of them did it, in their own way

Through your days in Shambali, you felt part of their brotherhood. Not exactly as such, but… cherished. Each of them bonded with you in their own unique way, understanding your pains, your dreams, your wants. Piece by piece, the three of you found a way together

Now, whenever you meditate with Ramattra, concentrating the energy flow in your body, a glowing purple flashed through your cybernetics. But with Zenyatta, a deep golden color showed itself

And that’s why you could never choose. Your love for them was measured equally: if cut in half, one part would still be of Ramattra, and the other would belong to Zenyatta

So when Ramattra leaves from Shambali, and both you and Zenyatta decline his offer to follow his path off the Monastery, there’s no way from you in the opposites side, but through the middle-term

You still dream of the day you three will meet again. For the good or for the bad, you missed them for a lifetime, and to be separated brings up this feeling all over again

Now, whenever you concentrate your energy, it’s grayish: devoid of color, deepness and light

[macabremayhem]

Ahem. How can I start the conversation? OK, I'll try. How do you do, fellow humans?

Tonight I would like to talk about the setting of the Arcana game. Or, more specifically, its atmosphere, about background illustrations that people usually don't notice and/or don't usually talk about.

I love the Arcana background CGs so much. To be honest, those CGs are what got me into the game.

A little story: 4 or 5 years ago I saw an advertisement of the Arcana for the first time. And when I saw those ads on Instagram, it was so horrible and tasteless, imho. These cringe ads rather repelled me instead of attracting me. I saw it and forgot about it, but then…

Some time later, I started looking for background references for my text-based roleplay and found some beautiful illustrations. I didn't use these illustrations for my text roleplay. Besides, I soon forgot about my roleplay. :D and, in Google, I looked at the descriptions under the illustrations I found: "the Arcana game". I was intrigued. Then I downloaded the game. A few moments later I remembered those stupid ads, but I decided to take a chance.

And then, after the Prologue, I was absolutely fascinated. It had nothing in common with those commercials. The game itself was more beautiful than I'd ever imagined. And here I am :D and here we are.

Back to the background graphics. I am personally humbled and grateful to the original artists for these backgrounds. We love the characters – there's no doubt about that. But this setting and atmosphere wouldn’t be what it is without these illustrations.

I usually refer to photos that I think have "the same vibe" or "this place fits the world of Arcana" when I want to expand the world of the game on my own. Like headcanons, fanfiction, et cetera, you know.

Next I would like to show my selection of such photos. All photos from Instagram, not the Pinterest, as this is the most convenient method of attribution.

And all of these images, you know, I am NOT using for any commercial purposes. Crediting is in the order of the images.

⏬

Okay, let's go. It's not that I'm HCing any specific locations. I can only give a very rough idea of the "location area". You'll see the notes, I hope. Credits and links below. Credits are clickable.

graciousopulence (the main source)

1. clivenichols

2. nationaltrust*

3. bonvoyagecleo

4. gamma_f

5. rcmccloskey

6. designboom*

7. amarosanchezdemoya

8. curly.beard

There are some images that conjure up more specific associations for me.

© devonchurchland*

To be honest, this photo became the indirect reason for this post.

I saw this today and the theme song from the game immediately started playing in my head (can you guess which one?). At the same time, I remembered some of the scenes that take place in our storyline. A lot of the action takes place in the Temple District. Just because… why not? especially when you and your co-author are historians obsessed with religion, lol.

I imagined this picture very vividly:

One of the churches in the Temple District. Silence. Julian sitting in an empty church, deep in thought. Watching how the strip of light from the stained glass window slowly creeping across the floor and the benches, then how the flames of the candles flickering.

He reflects and looks away, shyly, from the instruments of passions and the images of martyrs.

No, he is not religious at all. Just... impressionable. He is only impressionable in that he probably thinks most of the time that he has not yet been struck by lightning because of his impure intentions. Poor boy… 🫀

Ahem. Sorry. I think I got carried away. :D Just look at this last item.

© dumbartonoaks*

Leave your comments and share your thoughts, requests, etc. Ask is open.

[mdhwrites]

so I've seen it in your fics so I just wanted to ask: what was the appeal of Clarvee?

There's not really a nice way to put this: It's Lumity 5178 for the TOH fandom. It's a weird, quirky-ish girl with a bully. For the brief moment it caught the fascination of the fandom, that was essentially the pitch but with one big addition and one big drawback: It had a fuckton more angst... But now you had to write an OC.

Part of what was compelling to me as a writer was this fact that it's kind of an original form of Lumity because we know very little about Vee and we knew fucking nothing about Clara besides her having been around for many of Luz's shenanigans. We didn't even know if she was actually a bully, just that she looks like a human Amity. Meanwhile, one of the big things we know about Vee is she wasn't maybe bullied like Luz... She was tortured. Literally. She grew up in agony and managed to escape. She has baggage, to put it mildly.

But also to be blunt, the TOH fandom doesn't actually like extreme angst. No one I ever followed seemed to actually do anything with Vee. I mean, more people did comics about Amity losing it at Hunter over Eclipse Lake than ANYONE ever did about the fact that Hunter probably was involved in Vee's torture as the emperor's right hand. Bare minimum, A Golden Guard had probably participated in it. The fandom likes the angst they put on the characters that reflects their own traumas and problems but engaging with actual fantasy issues and the like never really seemed to be as big of a part of it, bare minimum by the point of S2B. And that is important because you honestly already by then saw a lot less comics, WAY less animatics and just less more extreme output from most creatives in regards to TOH.

The other half of the problem is that the fandom had done so much Lumity already, including Boschlow which was already a Lumity clone, that even before it was canonical, a lot more people gravitated towards Veesha. After all, Masha is a goth, spunky, weird but also genuinely feminine and a teen and just overall a nice character that is already close to Vee. There's also more of an overt betrayal angle from confessing what Vee is that can mirror allegories to the LGBTQIA+ experience... With the plus side that Masha would be more likely to go "Would" to it than Clara would.

It was a blip of a trend for the fandom and if you actually read that work, you can tell that a lot of the inspiration came from being able to do whatever the fuck I wanted with Clara. That is was, even accidentally, a bit of me flexing my original writing skills as I did a lot of interesting stuff with how she views the world. I don't think Vee ever got a solo chapter, and probably stopped around the time it might have happened, because I just didn't find, nor even now, find Vee all that compelling.

But also Clarvee was also me coping for the fact that the end of Yesterday's Lie left a godawful taste in my mouth from its no win cliffhanger, which I fucking called wouldn't be actually followed up on or enforced by Camila. It was me trying to still love this and have the same passion I did... And well, a year later I'd be essentially done writing for TOH.

So much for that. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[sharpth1ng]

how did you learn to write that well? is there any way i can get better at it?

I mean I think I have a lot of room for improvement still, but any skill I have I attribute to practice. Ive been preoccupied with story-making since I was a fairly young kid, and I can assure you that the first peice of fanfiction I ever wrote was not particularly good. I look back on stuff I wrote even a few years ago and I see so many flaws, so really I think so much of this hinges on putting the hours in.

That's my first peice of advice: write as much as you can. I write almost whenever i have a chance or an idea, any idle moment is an opportunity to take out my phone and add a line. Also, think about writing as much as you can. When I'm walking to work or doing the dishes I'm thinking about plot, next lines, working out ideas. When you have an idea you like, write it down. You don't have to write it well, just get the idea down so you'll remember it later.

My second peice of advice is to read a lot. Not just fanfiction- theres some great fanfic out there but theres also a lot of really common tropes, and I think its easy to get stuck in those if it's all you're reading. If anything whats most important is to read a lot of different kinds of stuff.

I think one of the bigger influences on my writing is Chuck Palahniuk, who focuses on some of the world's most unreliable narrators. His characters have these fascinating and often very troubling understandings of the world and of morality. But also he's really good at writing things indirectly, which is something I really try to bring to my own work. The character may not be able to explain their emotions or motivations explicitly, but I try to write the broader narrative so that you can figure out whats actually going on if you dig in.

To me, thats the most satisfying kind of narrative- don't give the audience everything laid out clearly. Make them work for it a little. It's more satisfying and it feels more like real life.

Beyond narrative fiction, read poetry, and write poetry. I mean this so earnestly. I think that reading and writing poetry can really help you break out of descriptive tropes, so you find new and unique ways of describing things. I think poetry can also get you comfortable using symbolism, which I think can also be really helpful in terms of beefing up your writing. Some of my favourites right now are Richard Siken and Billy Ray Belcourt.

Theres probably more I could come up with to say but really thats the big stuff. Feed your brain and practice! And don't judge yourself too much. If you don't like what you wrote don't delete it. Come back to it later with your editing hat on or recycle it for parts.

I have a couple other posts with writing advice as well so check those out if you'd like more tips:

[owlespresso]

do u have any fic/author recs at the moment? for any of ur fandoms!

TONS, but here's a short list of authors and fics that I adore. All of the following authors are absolute inspirations to me and I thank them for putting their creations into the world, for us to read.

Just a heads up, I adore dark content so a lot of the writers and fics I will recommend will contain said content.

@seoafin writes for Jujutsu Kaisen, but they also have some writings for Trigun. Their characterizations are incredibly on point and I adore their takes on Geto and Gojo, including the dynamics between them + the protagonist of their AU ripverse.

@strawberrygodzilla has a fic about Zenos that BEATS ASS and their character voice for Zenos (and every other character including the WOL) is so clear and accurate like every time they write Zenos's dialogue I'm like... "wow, he really WOULD say that". I've teared up several times reading their fic here, at the end of all things.

@chickenparm, whose profile I religiously check on ao3 and just discovered has a blog on tumblr, writes BANGER Genshin fanfics with to die for smut. Their fics about Childe are among my favorite. Give of Yourself has stuck with me in particular.

@softagenda has been providing the Touchstarved fandom with easily some of its best fanfictions, expanding on concepts introduced in the demo and adding some of their own world building. My favorite fic of theirs is silver linings.

@ddarker-dreams just has a way of writing and worldbuilding that really takes my breath away. The amount of depth and forethought put into her Blade fic, Nexus, still stuns and awes me a month after its completion. She's written heaps for Genshin Impact and is now starting on a JJK series. She also writes a lot about Chrollo Lucifer, from HxH. I haven't watched a single episode of the show, but she has somehow made me invested in this character. Whenever I see mention of him elsewhere, I go "ah, the man ddarker-dreams writes about".

@lorelune writes for Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail and JJK. I love their work but their little blurbs they post every now and then also completely have my whole heart. their hybrid AU Blade fic hell is a hound without a chain has been living in my head ever since they dropped it. I adore their characterization of Blade and Jing Yuan in particular! Their Gojo fic dawn instinct hits me so hard.

@agent-cupcake writes for FFXIV AND JJK but I found them through Fire Emblem Three Houses. I've been following their work for awhile and I adore each and every piece. Their prose is beautiful and their dark content is to die for. I'm biased so my favorite piece is Asteria, but I also am continuously obsessed with Raison D'etre, Vae Victis (FFXIV), Femme Fatale and living idly and dying as if dreaming.

@hawnks is a fantastic writer who I discovered through her soulmate AU fics. coincide and the first law of motion are absolute classics, but she's been writing a soulmate series for Gojo which has been utterly fascinating for far. I would also like to thank her for introducing me and many others to Guideverse which I would love to write something on in the future!

[whiterosesforher]

dark moon pantheon series ; i

warnings: none

genre: (dark) fantasy, au, romance, drama, action, fanfiction

word count: 1,969 words

chapter synopsis: how their lives were before they met the guys that would cause them to be unworthy of their power, and how it all began.

a/n: this is an oc (named reader) x enhypen fanfiction based off of enhypen's current lore, slow updates because i'm busy in college, and english is not my first language neither am i good at it so please be nice. :'>

masterlist.

Inside the ethereal realm, where golden light shined through clouds that are as soft as silk, the palace of the gods stood tall in its glory. This was the domain of Zeus and Hera, the King and Queen of Gods, whose rule is as absolute as the stars that adorned the sky at night. Here, power is solely determined by birth rank, with the eldest blessed as the most powerful, the strength, skill, and power diminishing with each subsequent birth.

Each gods are given their rightful title during their teenage years, while the demigods in this realm are seen as the slightly more low form of life that can enter the heavens, most of the demigods here serve the more powerful ones, especially the twelve renowned Olympian Gods.

And inside the palace's study hall is where the first born of Zeus and Hera, a little girl named Venus, spend most of her time. Venus sat perched on a cushioned chair, her small frame dwarfed by the grand expanse of bookshelves that lined the walls and the study table in front of her. The air around was filled with the scent of parchment paper and ink. Beside her, her uncle Poseidon, the god of the sea, patiently guided her through the books she's reading.

Poseidon, with his ocean-blue eyes and flowing silver hair, had a presence both commanding and gentle. He was a stark contrast to Zeus, his older brother, who ruled with a firm and unyielding tyranny at hand. Poseidon’s voice, deep and resonant, carried a warmth that made Venus feel both safe and comfortable. Maybe that is also the reason why the young girl is attached and share a close bond with her uncle more than her own father.

"Remember, Venus," he said, pointing to a passage in the book before them, "knowledge is the foundation of power. Understanding the world through these words will prepare you to wield your strength wisely."

Venus nodded eagerly, her dark brown curls bobbing with the motion. Her brown eyes sparkled with curiosity and admiration for her uncle. She adored these lessons, not just for the wisdom she learn everytime, but also for the bond they shared. Poseidon had a way of making even the most complex ideas accessible and fascinating, and his frequent bouts of humor kept their sessions lively.

"And here," Poseidon continued, a playful twinkle in his eye, "is a story about a rather mischievous dolphin who—"

A gentle knock on the door interrupted them. Turning, Venus’ face lit up with a wide smile as her mother, Hera, entered the study hall. Hera, despite the weight of her pregnancy, moved with the grace and poise of a queen. Her presence was soothing, radiating of love and strength.

"Mother!" Venus exclaimed, her joy evident as she bounced off her chair and ran to embrace Hera.

Hera’s face softened, her eyes glowing with affection as she wrapped her arms around her daughter. "How is my little star?" she asked, her voice melodic.

Venus looked up at her mother, her eyes shining. "Uncle Poseidon is teaching me so much! Did you know that dolphins can be mischievous too?"

Poseidon chuckled, rising from his seat. "Indeed, they can," he said, walking over to join them. He placed a gentle hand on the little girl's shoulder, his expression one of fondness. "Venus is a quick learner, Hera. She has a sharp mind and boundless curiosity."

Hera smiled at her brother-in-law, a silent gratitude passing between them. "Thank you, Poseidon. Your guidance means the world to us." She then turned her attention back to Venus, her gaze tender. "I’m glad to see you enjoying your lessons, my dear. You are truly destined for great things."

Venus beamed at this, her heart swelling with pride and happiness because of her mother's praise. Hera once spoke again "Your sibling is due to join us soon, are you excited?"

Venus nodded eagerly, her curiosity piqued by the mention of her soon-to-be-born sibling. "Will they be as powerful as me?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Hera's smile faded quickly, replaced by a look of contemplation. "Power is a gift that naturally comes by birth rank, my dear," she explained, resting a hand on her swollen belly. "You are the eldest, and thus the most powerful. Your sibling will not share your level of power, but I am sure that they will have their own strengths and gifts."

Venus absorbed her mother's words, the concept of power and its distribution is still new to her, but she already feel a sense of responsibility. Thinking about this, she wants to be a guiding light for her sibling, just as her parents were for her.

The ethereal realm thrived off of the balance of power and knowledge. The gods, each with their domains and duties, created existence with their actions and decisions. For Venus, being the eldest means she is at the brink of inheriting a legacy that spanned the cosmos, whether she likes it or not.

Years passed in the ethereal realm, and the palace of the gods become even more blessed with the laughter and energy of Zeus and Hera’s four children. Venus, now a young teenager, had been joined by her younger siblings, Thana, Artaemia, and Halimede. The four sisters shared an unbreakable bond, their days filled with joy each time they're together.

On a bright and sunny day, the palace was alive with the sounds of their play. Venus darted through the marble halls as Thana, with a mischievous glint in her eye, kept pace, her laughter ringing clear. Artaemia, the youngest, whose hair and dress bounced with every step, chased after her older sisters, her face alight with the determination to catch one of them as she's the tag in this chasing game.

The three kids are playing all while their baby sister, Halimede is nestled peacefully sleeping in her crib. For she is nothing but a young baby for now.

“Catch us if you can, Artaemia!” Venus called, her voice a melody.

Artaemia’s little legs moved as fast as they could, her small hands reaching out in hopes of tagging one of her sisters. She giggled, her eyes sparkling with glee.

Their laughter echoed through the corridors as they pass by, their movements fluid and graceful. Finally, as they burst into the garden, the chase reached its end. The garden, a lush paradise of blooming flowers and greenery, was their sanctuary.

Artaemia, with a triumphant cry, lunged forward and caught Venus by the arm. “Got you!” she exclaimed, her voice breathless because of the activity but triumphant.

Venus collapsed onto the soft grass, pulling Thana and Artaemia down with her. They lay there, their chests heaving as they catch their breaths, their laughter mingling with the sweet scent of the flowers that surrounded them. It was truly a place for them.

“You’re getting faster, Artaemia,” Thana said, her voice filled with admiration towards her little sister “Soon, we won’t be able to escape you at all!”

Artaemia beamed, her cheeks flushed with pride. “Sure, I have the best teachers,” she replied.

They lay there for a while, making jokes and teasing each other as they usually do. The sky above was a canvas of brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds that drifted lazily across the horizon. The clouds seem to form different patterns and shapes that resemble things. Each of the girls had fun pointing at any cloud and saying out loud what they think that cloud resembles.

Suddenly, their playful banter was interrupted by the sound of voices. On the other side of the tall garden flower wall, two demigod maids were engaging in a hushed conversation.

“It’s been difficult these past few days,” one maid said, her voice filled with concern. “King Zeus is so stressed. The olympian council is suggesting of stripping him off his crown. They say he’s not leading well.”

The second maid sighed, her tone laced with frustration. “I agree with them. Zeus is a tyrant and an unjust leader. He doesn’t deserve this position. His rule has brought more fear to people than peace, and not just to the lowlife beings, to the gods and demigods here too!” They are right, Zeus has been and still is a tyrant leader. He is unjust, prideful, and only cares about himself, and while Venus is aware of this and agrees with the maids, she can't help but fear for the moment where the other gods all come to push their family towards downfall.

The sisters became as quiet as the air, laying still, hearts pounding as they listened. Venus’ face grew serious, her earlier laughter now replaced with worry. Thana and Artaemia looked to her for guidance, their eyes wide with concern.

“What do we do?” Thana whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Venus took a deep breath, her mind racing. “We need to ask Mother or Uncle Poseidon,” she said quietly, her voice steady. “They for sure know what's going on.”

The three sisters rose quietly from the grass. As they made their way back to the palace, the garden’s beauty seemed a little dimmer, the weight of the overheard conversation casting a shadow over their hearts. Who knows how this will end?

But destiny is as playful as it can be, and everyone who has a pair of eyes can clearly see that this rebellion would not end well for the family that's been reigning all the other gods.

Later that night, under the soft glow of the moon peeking through the palace windows, Venus lay restless in her grand chamber. The ethereal realm was usually a place of peace, beauty and calm, but tonight, worry gnawed at her heart. Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, she slipped out of her bed and made her way to her mother’s chambers.

Hera was seated by the window, her silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. Her father, Zeus, isn't in the room. Probably working again and doing his duties overtime in his own chamber where he busies himself with responsibilities. Hera turned as Venus entered, her expression softening as she saw her eldest daughter’s troubled face.

“Mother,” Venus began, her voice a whisper, “I need to talk to you.”

Hera motioned for her to sit beside her. Venus hesitated for a moment, but then sat, her hands nervously fiddling with the fabric of her nightgown.

“I overheard something today,” Venus said, her eyes downcast. “The maids were talking about Father. They said the council of gods is considering of stripping him off his crown. Is it true?”

Hera sighed, her eyes reflecting worry that matches her daughter's, “Yes, my dear, it is true. The council believes that your father’s leadership has become too harsh and unjust. They are concerned about the balance of power and the well-being of the realm.”

Venus’ heart sank. “Will this affect our family? Is there any way we can prevent it?”

Hera reached out and took Venus’s hands in hers, her touch warm and reassuring. “It will affect us, Venus. If your father is removed from power, it will cast a shadow over our family.”

Venus looked up, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. “What can we do, Mother?”

“We must try to reconcile with the council,” Hera said calmly. “We will speak with them, listen to their concerns, and find a way to address them. Your father must show them that he can lead with wisdom and justice, not just strength.”

Tears welled up in Venus’s eyes. “I’m scared, Mother. I don’t want to lose everything.”

Hera pulled her daughter into a comforting embrace. “I know, my little star. But remember, we are a family. We will face this together. Your father is a powerful god, and we would get through this trial.”

Venus clung to her mother, somehow finding peace in her words. She felt a glimmer of hope at that moment. Everything will be fine, hopefully.

[hispillowprince]

not to "um akshully..." with my first post on my shiny new blog (that is exactly what i am doing),

but ao3 (and initially tumblr to an extent) is, to its core, a "proship" website. the funny thing about this more recent distinction between pro/antis, the terminology itself and the discourse surrounding it is that it's simply rebranding and packaging topics of censorship within spaces that exist for self expression by and for fans/nerds/outcasts/what have you.

the principle of using a tagging and filtering system to AVOID broader censorship (that more often targets marginalized groups and limits freedom of expression) is a progressive one. censorship that is out of the hands of the community is not. this does NOT mean that everyone should simply subject themselves to content that makes them uncomfortable, or that people shouldn't be held responsible for, you know, basic human decency and respecting boundaries with one another...which is why tagging and filtering systems are set in place for us to have the ability at our disposal without altering the experience for others. what it DOES mean is we know that understanding that distinction between fantasy and reality is often integral to our experience in fandom.

we are not spokespeople. we are not and should not be held to a standard of wholesome, squeaky clean representation in our own free time and space we have simply to have fun and find like-minded people. this isn't the writing room for a bloody disney channel program trying to make The Gays palatable to pearl clutching parents, and frankly, when websites like tumblr, fanfiction sites etc are hit with the banhammer, things tend to only go downhill from there and lose creativity and engagement (including sfw creatives!). censorship has always and will always target those that don't fit the marketing bill, aka unsavory "fans/nerds/outcasts/what have you," whom are often - you guessed it - marginalized people that utilize fandom as an outlet.

whether people use fiction to draw inspiration for their art, process and recontextualize things in their lives (like traumatic events, introspection, humanitarian issues and so on), find community or simply have a good time, it is something that makes the human experience so fascinating. we have always and likely WILL always fantasize, dream and create (and share in those things).

to me, the fundamentals of an anti-harassment or proship stance is not that fiction has NO bearing on people or their experience, but that without the ability to make our own decisions and boundaries for ourselves, we are inhibited from learning, progressing and breaking the barriers of what confines us. this includes - but is not limited to - sexuality and sexual content.

sexuality. sex. infamously a natural form of expression/communication that has been weaponized and stolen from people in a sickeningly long game of "if we can't sell it or use it to manipulate and instill fear into you, then we don't talk about it at all." this game is effective in its continued tired controversy over whether or not people are allowed to discuss icky, gross sex in ways that can sometimes challenge our relationship with it and how we've been socialized to approach it. WHY open discussion about these things is healthy and helps set a precedence for being safe and mindful with it.

how does this tie in with proshipping? it's an alignment of values with censorship in this way. it's symbolic, really. we reclaim power for ourselves, making our queer coded villains and monsters something to play with than to shut us out. giving our little faves toxicity as a treat because we know how harmful it is to navigate a world without anyone to guide us through the steps or understand our own history/ies. or, you know, just be horny and silly online and find people who want to do the same.

anyone who claims they're pro/anti and makes it solely about what they deem okay to harass others with earns them my opinion that they're an asshole. anyone who simply does not want to engage with/discuss something that may or may not be considered problematic or controversial is simply a person. we all have lines we draw for ourselves. much like how someone playing d&d or video games doesn't spawn evil cultists or violent criminals, exploring sexual themes through fiction does not a predator make.

so, on that note - the end, lol. i hope this drabble of not entirely coherent figurative fist shaking at the sky serves you, or doesn't. either way, you know what to do when you don't like something! it's called blocking, babeeey. gold star if you made it to the end of this fat essay lmao

drinking water is really important though fr like it's not just a memefied thing it's-

[caesarflickermans]

dear prof. dr. caesarflickermans (the prof dr is still so funny to me), can you please tell me more about how v sees plutarch's body? he's pretty neutral about his own body, but what's her opinion on it (his body and how he sees it)? thank you so much <3

What we need to keep in mind about bodies within the Capitol is that similar beauty standards apply to them as in our real world, but that changing one’s body comes at a much smaller cost than what we know. The dieting pills are hinting at this fact in canon, and my perception of the Capitol in terms of pharmaceuticals or plastic surgery has been shaped around the ease with which one had access to such the in-canon pills. For example, Virgilia makes frequent note of plastic surgery, and Caesar, too, has had some done.

This implies a lot about Plutarch’s body even at first glance: That him being overweight is, in contrast to today, a choice. Paired with his movie look—that of a relatively subdued style, little makeup, receded hairline—and you get a man who does not fall into the standard Capitol appearance.

Plutarch is not unaware of his options; which indicate that he has chosen to abstain from the Capitol’s beauty industry. You and I have often referred to this as his own little rebellion inside the rebellion.

This appearance difference is an immediate fact Virgilia notices about him in the very first description we receive of Plutarch. His weight being the main signifier:

The new [Head Gamemaker] was rounder than the usual visitor, yet it suited his face, making him appear softer and kinder than the pointed sticky faces who had aged terribly and talked in long and exhausting sentence. (SSLWR, CH1)

The first chapter and its first half cover a relatively broad and purposefully undefined time. What pauses this narration is a regular dinner with an irregular guest. Plutarch’s weight is the first irregularity within that and his interest in making watches the second. Both throw her off and both are part of the initial fascination she has with him.

Plutarch’s body is defined as the other. In the first case, it is the contrast to the usual visitors, but it’s a frequent subject with which Virgilia draws lines between her current circumstances and Plutarch. For example, we have him not fitting to the mansion:

There were barely any straight lines, except for his thick eyebrows, and he seemed so strange in the frame of a mansion that fitted right to Gratia���or Gratia to the mansion. (SSWLR, CH2)

But the most important comparison is that between Snow and Plutarch:

Yet, [Plutarch] was so very lovely the way he was; she pictured him less bony than her husband when embraced. What was it like to be held by him? It must certainly feel extraordinarily pleasant. (SSLWR, CH7)

This is the key point on why she is so drawn to his weight, especially at first, because he is the exact opposite to Snow. At first all she knows about him is the visual difference, but this visual difference is only an indicator for what comes next, insofar that Plutarch from a character level and from a relationship level is the very opposite.

For example, a frequent point within the fanfiction is that Virgilia is not good at talking and uttering her thoughts. A main reason for that is because she has never been given the momentum to speak—you cannot be good at speaking or debating if you aren't practiced in it. She is not invited to partake in any of the conversations that are, to her, not part of her skill level—"They talked about the economy, or something, [...]" (CH1). In contrast, Plutarch is noted to be waiting for her to voice her thoughts, frequently being attributed with patience as early as chapter 3. When she speaks, he doesn't interrupt her. He takes her words seriously.

Once they grow closer romantically, Virgilia begins to have a fascination with feeling his body. She wonders about what it might feel like to hug him in the above quote, and once she receives a hug, she feels positive about his body both as it is and in contrast to her husband:

Plutarch’s hug was warm and welcoming. His arms were rather strong, wrapping around her so entirely and keeping her close for only but a mere moment. But that was enough, more than enough, sensing an ubiquitous prickle spreading from her stomach as she felt him so close. Virgilia imagined hearing a pounding heartbeat—albeit it might have been her own. He was different from her husband, whose large but thin shape seemed so cold and empty. No, Plutarch didn’t slip away from her, even when her chin briefly came to rest on his shoulder. He appeared ever so real, caught in the moment in the same way the sun warmed her face after clouded days, awakening her anew in a reality that grew dense and present. (SSLWR, CH8)

To paraphrase, Plutarch is: warm, welcoming, strong, hugging her whole, stays with her, feels real. Her husband is thin, cold, empty. While some of it has to do with the nature of their hug—for example the length—much of it is a comparison between two bodies, and Plutarch’s being attributed only positive notions. She’s fascinated by how he feels and wonders about it because she is craving that connection with him. She daydreams about him, and some of those include what his body—a foreign, unexplored entity—feels like.

I purposefully wrote about those moments and about how she views his body. I did not want her to be detached from it, both because the difference felt important, but also because a romance with an overweight character would feel wrong if it glossed over the body. It felt important to make his weight part of her attraction, not an in-spite-of or a secretly feeling grossed out by it. Neither did I want to make her too obsessed with it in a kinky sense, because overweight people are people, not kinks. My goal was to make this part of her attraction to him without it being the sole part of her fascination—that, if he were to lose weight, she wouldn’t jump ship, but that she nonetheless likes him that way and isn’t interested in having him change for her sake.

Obviously, one of the most significant scenes in terms of Plutarch’s body and Virgilia's thoughts on it happen during the sex scene in chapter 14:

She kissed him the way that flowers looked up at the sun, desired every ray of its warmth, every attention of its light. Her hands had grown desperate in hunger, moving from the stubbles of his cheeks down the muscles in his arms to the softness of his belly. (SSLWR, CH14)

This is the first time she is exploring his body. She is once more affirming his softness in the first quote. Once more, Plutarch is different: Virgilia lives in a world where everything with sharp edges, poking bones, or straight lines is not safety and not love. Plutarch is, because of his otherness, safety and love.

Touching him had been different than she expected, and yet all what she had hoped for. Plutarch was not like the people in the Capitol, whose latest craze seemed to have bones poking out everywhere. Her hands trailed across his chest, led by the soft hair that adorned his upper torso. Each breath of his lifted chest and belly, bolstered his shoulders and changed the shadows cast across. Eventually, the hair was gone, far too few in between, and she had been left alone as her fingers traced to his belly button. It was then that something had tugged on the edge of her mind. (SSLWR, CH14)

She is making room for this interest by exploring his upper body; affirming the difference and being allowed to roam and explore at the speed she needs. In that moment, Plutarch is watching her, and he’s once more being patient as she is touching him. This quote is followed up by him asking about undoing her hair, and it’s an equal fascination on his part that Virgilia is not in the know about yet. They both have mysteries they wish to explore about the other that day. His body and its weight is hers.

She sunk deeper into the bed, deeper into the black fabric. Blonde hair appeared, then his thick brows, the warm gaze, and lips smudged with her lipstick. Plutarch had climbed on top of her, and what seemed a not-too-uncommon place, whenever she moved, he responded by shifting his weight; enough that she could break away if needed—except she did not want to. There was trust in the heaviness of his on top of her, and, for once her heart ached not for escaping, but for more. (SSLWR, CH14)

I’ve thought about this moment a lot before writing it, and I’ve worked on those lines a lot. Plutarch’s weight is a factor once more—again, I never wanted it to be mentioned once and then be ignored—and it’s one that could be scary. It’s a fact that he is heavy. He could easily overwhelm her and sleep with her as he pleases, completely ignoring her needs while keeping her in place. 

The easy solution is to switch—and have her be on top. Right before this quote, they actually have a conversation (“There were whispers exchanged, like small gusts of wind carried into the woods.”) and while I leave the exact words out because it’s more reaffirming the wants of each other, it being followed up by her sinking into the bed, and him climbing on top of her should give away at least parts of the content of their conversation—Plutarch, himself likely insecure, asks her if she would like to be on top.

They don’t go for the easy solution. And that is because Virgilia trusts him. I didn’t go into the depths of their sexual relationship because it did not feel like the fanfiction to do that—I really don’t like more explicit smut scenes in a work otherwise not focused on them—but it is alluded here that she enjoys the feeling of him, with all his weight, being on top of her. She likes feeling that, despite every odds technically being against her, this is a safe space, and he’s listening to her. Him moving when she does might initially be born from discomfort on his part, but it is meant to eventually become a play where both move in unison knowing the other, and this is its first act.

There is some part insecurity voiced by Plutarch at the end of the chapter. This quote happens right after Plutarch jokes about how she had not gotten a younger lover, which leaves Virgilia confused.

With an equal amount of confusion, much as if she did not understand that the sun rose every morning, he opened his mouth far before words could come out. “Most might prefer someone who is stronger or taller or younger and certainly with less grey hair.” (SSLWR, CH14)

She responds that she likes him and his hair. While much of her thoughts on his body are focused on weight, the other parts of it not affirming to Capitol beauty standards, such as non-grey hair, an indicator of aging, are loved, too. She likes him, and she likes his body.

To return to general ideas about Plutarch’s body—and we did somewhat talk about this recently!—his body is something daring to her. Virgilia has time and time again given into the beauty standards. She needs to maintain them as they are closely tied to her own survival. Plutarch does not need to do the same; and Virgilia recognises it for the rebellion it is.

She will always love him regardless the body he has, but the body he has as seen in the movies is a source of comfort, love, and safety for her. She wouldn’t change a thing about him.

[archerinspace]

I really wonder what magic world Fionna and Cake could've been if Natasha wrote more or we got context to more of what Prismo originally created instead of getting a view of it from Ice King's half insane writings of wanting to kiss Fionna. I've found some of Natasha's old stuff on tumblr and read the comics more than once, it fascinates me they aren't just a mirror to Finn's world and have their own lore and stories depending on how the characters have changed. Others just took the concept and made their own stories from it fueled by fanfiction tropes.

Marceline in "Bad Little Boy" writes coping with her own problems by projecting them onto Marshall, also settling on making Marshall and Fionna friends the same way she treats Finn like a little brother type.

LSP in "The Prince who wanted everything" is just her self inserting her feelings on how its unfair her parents tell her to take a shower once in a while or do basic things an average person would do, let alone a princess.

"Five Short Tables" is just Ice King's mixed up fanfiction so the scenes don't even match up with each other. By this logic he has five separate fanfictions of Cake learning to make shaped pancakes, Gumball having an entire ego meltdown over a board game, Flame Prince just not understanding a library, Marshall Lee trying to help cure LSPrince's headcold, and the Ice Queen holding a ted talk on her own fanfiction.

I genuinely wonder what is Prismos fundamental base for stories and what is Ice King's madness seeping in as he projects his own problems(aside from the obvious) onto Ice Queen yet also admits he'd love to marry her. The only time we see the world functioning on its own is "Fionna and Cake and Fionna" where a bunny looking girl was able to tune into the world and see it thinking it was a tv program. Her recordings are the only pure Prismo writing we ever see in the show. And you can tell he likes Jake ALOT cause Cake does the same thing as 'key hand' except its 'key eye' instead. This further shows their world is different since the Queen of Ooo is just dressing up as a mummy to steal money from Fionna or anyone else who would have found her wrapped in bandages rather than using charisma to convince people to give her money.

However due to a lack of anything outside of what other people of Ooo wrote, characterizations and favored characters are different so they get written differently by various people. We don't know if Prismo specifically used PB's background for Gumball and according to a tumblr post it was once a concept that Cake was raised by the Ice Queen since being a kitten and the comics write the Ice Queen as a water nymph that was cursed.

At least we have some canon (possibly) that Gumball is just very vain and even jealous of LSPrince being beautiful as a Jojo character.

[mandy4ever69420]

i would like to see the og version :D

man if yr sure. anyway i do love fanfiction i think it's fun but i am the weirdest person to be talking about fanfiction.

i find fanfiction to be a really fascinating medium TBH it can tell you a lot about people what they look for and write about. and one thing i learned watching shameless is that the general vibe of shameless is pretty much what i want out of a fanfic. like, watching it i remember specifically thinking "this is what i'd been literally looking for reading xyz" which is a little weird for shameless fanfiction, no? fanfic as a medium has its own genre conventions so most (not all) (i <3 conceptual fic) fanfictions intentionally or not make their stories slightly more like fanfiction than like the source material. normal. Funny enough, the fanfic that's most closely ever actually matched the tone of shameless to me was written for homestuck

the MAIN THING i want to say about. the way i read fanfiction. and the fact that i am a lunatic. is that like. i kind of became an expert for some reason in sniffing out people's political and social biases really fast. and i can sometimes spend more time psychoanalyzing an author than i do worrying about the story. this comes up a lot when the law ever gets involved but also just.. you can tell exactly where someone is on their "how to be gay" journey by how they write it. i think what people write as escapism can in general tell you more about what they consider normal/safe/acceptable than if they just tried to explain to you their beliefs (see: are there royals/rich people as protagonists? what is the time period being discussed?)

BUT wrt fanfiction's genre conventions id make note that most fanfiction is very much in the romcom niche. which is a super disrespected genre in film/published lit in the same way and for the same reasons fanfic gets dismissed a lot. erotica is also a very frequently dismissed and disrespected genre. not only are romances seen as frivolous, but sex as shameful or cheap. <-also relevant to the way that sex work is dismissed when ex. working in an amazon warehouse takes as much or more of a toll on someone's body.

1 thing i love to see is weird niche interests and jobs. lots of opportunities in a fully freeform zero interest groups/showrunners/advertisers genre to get someone explaining the intricacies of being a mail carrier or quality controlling machinery. it's always frustrating to me to see rock stars and secret agents when we have all the time in the world to get sunshine cleaning (2008) with it.

it's also a good format for more or less endless speculation development and character moments. which is what fanfiction was built for. in published work there has to be a ticking clock to keep the audience's (and network exec's) attention, but you can assume if someone looked something up, you already have their attention. that's not to say not going for a plot-heavy conflictful story, just that there's no need to build in a requirement end/goal. you have all the time in the world because you're not batting to get a new season. no shark jumping required. <- this is somewhere that shows like mr. robot and the bear really fuck up i think. if your end goal would finish your story, you can't make meaningful moves towards it without losing your renewal & your plot is sort of barred from going anywhere or doing anything, while also demanding that you try every time

unfortunately for a lot of fanfiction FOR ME though is that sometimes the "make things sweeter" impulse that comes with the genre (part of the genre) (not necessarily a writing flaw) tends to put me off a bit. it's a big part of what i love in shameless: when someone is in the hospital it's a bit more "waiting room filling out forms and trying not to look at other people crying" and less "patiently waiting by your bedside with roses". something about detailing the shitty terrible sides of situations that pop up a lot in romances really scratches a specific itch in my brain. this contradicts the romcom genre in some ways (though there are romcoms that do this sort of thing)

i also happen to love AUs. im literally like an AU guy. though for me one of the most important things to keep in mind is matching tone, i really dont like when things get changed in terms of what they FEEL like. into like, something that isn't weird and pathetic and fucked up. SAD!

i'm also unreasonably resentful of retcons/AUs to avoid a sad thing happening. i think stories are better when all the horrible shit absolutely happened and the ending is good anyway. it's a kinder way to look at trauma to me. the person who lived through the worst thing you can imagine can live in a happy story! i also just love to feel a little bit like i'm eating glass with fiction.

(also, specifically for shameless, i've noticed this intense impulse some people have to definitively characterize mickey as not a rape or hate crime survivor. it's an attempt to make a story "happier" that also happens to ignore how horrifying to me mickey sleeping with women in other contexts is. what happened with svetlana is in some ways a literalization of the kinds of social pressure that mickey was always under. best description i can think of is "how far away is the gun?" -- a lot of the "reasoning" for AUs as to why mickey wouldn't have been hate crimed comes across weirdly like victim blaming - i know that's not what people mean, but it's what you're saying when you say "if it weren't for ian, mickey never would've let his guard down like that" - his guard wasn't down, he made all the right choices wherever he could, and ian canonically blaming himself doesn't mean he was right about it. i also think the idea that mickey would otherwise be too smart or too tough to make the "mistake" of getting caught shows some messed up ideas about what people think of real world people who do survive hate crimes and abuse.)

fanfiction is very much the sort of thing that is for having a mental breakdown of the eating ice cream on the couch variety. obviously talking about fanfiction having romanticized tropes is like watching a mob movie and being like "whys there so many italians here" so i'm aware that's just genre.

ANYWAY TO MY OWN PERSONAL INSANE NICHE: DIALECT!

this is about fanfiction, AND gif and television captioning. people mix up mickey's working class white dialect with AAVE a LOT. working class and Black american dialects certainly interact a lot and have similarities, but they're not the same. also AAVE has a lot of complexities and nuances that speakers of other dialects definitely borrow from where something like standard american is lacking. i'm not an L1 speaker of AAVE but i do notice myself borrowing where a structure is just much, much clearer than anything else. al7ayaa hek

there are ways in which an lot of these mixups make sense. especially with gifmakers/captioners/authors who happen to be british. mickey DOES use double negatives (btw, this is a feature of many languages, including closely related german) occasionally (i think), and famously "you ain't window shopping" but i can't think of any occasion where he uses a construction like habitual "be" or a "you been a pain in the ass the whole time i known you" (made up example) he also doesn't exempt "have" from "where the hell have you been", he just reduces it to a single schwa sound.

when mickey says "doesn't mean i'm gonna wear a dress" it's absolutely true that he's not articulating the "s" and taken purely literally "don't" is closer to what you heard. culturally, however, "don't" has a different pronunciation than "doesn't" in a way unrelated to the "s". the biggest difference is in the vowel. so mickey's "doesn't" is "glottal stop-schwa-syllabic N-glottal stop" where as "don't" written in that same spot gramatically will read as "d-oʊ-glottal stop"

shameless netflix captioners do something similar with lip. he gets captioned as "aight" a lot when he doesn't articulate "lr" - technically, literally, closer to his actual utterance. but the connotations bring up a different pronunciation entirely. lip isn't white boy carl.

i think unfortunately in addition to being mistakes made by people with little understanding of or exposure to the details of AAVE these can often be based on people's assumptions about what a poor or "criminal" or "uneducated" accent sounds like, moreso than on actual observation of speech patterns. which is just like. a slightly subtler form of racism

anyway. since i'm on this topic i just want to mention that i'm fairly sure ian's speech changes in s10/11 to be more similar to mickey's. i haven't been taking very careful note of his speech patterns but i think it's cute.

[frostkingsimp]

Random Frost King Headcanons

Art is by MarshallTrap on DeviantArt

What I’ve always thought about having really niche f/o’s is that there is little to no fanfiction on them. Now, that is where I’m writing career begins as I am forced to make my own.

Frost king is no exception as, frustratingly enough, a lot of people don’t even make it to the Snow World levels, let alone even the desert ones. ;,( so Frost King doesn’t even have a chance to be recognized to potential simps (I had no other way to word that sentence, apologies.)

Anyway…enough of my rambling.

If you’re one of the very few people who have read Frost King’s Knight on Wattpad, I headcanon that Frost King’s actual first name is Julian. I think I may have been inspired by an inactive cc ask blog…? I don’t recall the name of the tumblr but it is long dead. But, I liked it as Julian just feels like a wintery name.

Another thing that was inspired by another cc tumblr post was by @/monodes. It was basically their version of Blue Knight’s backstory, and I just really liked the way he was portrayed in it. I am a supporter of dumb and naïve Frost King since, I’ll admit, his voice and mannerisms in-game just scream that.

Again, this might not be new to you if you have read Frost King’s Knight, I headcanon he purrs. Okay, yeah, this one’s more on the self-indulgent side but this guy is DEFINITELY not human.

Speaking of him not being human, I think his skin is a little leathery. Inspired by the image above.

Also on this image, he’s giant. Like maybe this image is a little inaccurate to what I’m thinking, since maybe he nears seven feet?

I also like to think his eyes glow when he’s mad or using his powers.

Along with many others, I don’t entirely think he kidnapped the princess with intentions of marrying or courting her, more of just because the Evil Wizard kept the princesses with the other big bads. But, I do think he had a reverse-stockholm syndrome effect. As a single king with with a captured princess I think he figured it’d only be appropriate to act as her husband or something.

Moving onto reader-insert ones…

Talking post-game…Frost King’s got a skewed version of love and relationships. While I don’t fully believe he would be entirely physically abusive, I do think he believes women are inferior. So, he will often not allow you to do medial tasks on your own. Need to get out of bed? Call in a small team of iceskimos to help you get dressed and make your bed. Need a glass of water? Don’t you dare get up, either he’ll do it or his Iceskimos will. But, it has its ups and downs. He might not let you leave the Ice Castle without telling him where exactly you’re going or why. Even if you do (on the rare chance without his supervision) he’ll probably send one of his knights to spy on you.

He’s a boundary-pusher. Not to the extreme, but rather in his own odd ways. I’d like to think he’s a rare species. He’s humanoid, talks like a human, mostly acts like one, but one of his odd features is the way he expresses affection. If you tell him to stop, I’m sure he would. But, he’ll often pick you up casually. He might do this to sit you down somewhere or is too excited to wait for you to follow him. If you freak out from this, I bet he’d look so confused just because he’s so much taller than you and is like “???? Isn’t it easier if I carry you????”

I like to think he really enjoys just sleeping next to you. I also believe his body is naturally cold so your body heat fascinates him. However, I do think he’d get bothering by the heat by the middle of the night so you’ll fall asleep in his arms and by the morning he’s all the way on the other side, facing away from you. Don’t worry, he’s not mad, just hot.

He probably would have a few trusted Iceskimos to tend to you. Like I said before, there’s a team dedicated to getting you ready, preparing your meals, etc…

I think that’s all for now! Let me know if you want to see any more of this typa thing. This was a lotta fun for me to write so feedback is appriciated ! :,)

(Also if you guys happen upon any Frost King fanart I would love to see it. Or, if you drew it yourself, even better. Love u all)🩵

[eyeonyou]

The great tragedy of my fanfiction WIPs is the time I started writing a very expansive and elaborate Hogwarts AU of Homestuck and got roughly 15k words in before remembering I really don’t want to be associated with That Fucking Author.

That being said, I spent a stupid amount of time rereading Doc Scatch’s dialogues to write the intro, so I’m excerpting it below. Vindicate my suffering, I beg of you - and weep, all ye who read, for what could have been.

(Except TERFS, who should not bother interacting at all. It will be unpleasant for all involved).

[o]Sorting hat => introduce yourself

I am what you, dear reader, might recognise as the SORTING HAT.

Crisp-white and dapper despite my immense age, I am nonetheless made of an unpleasantly frictive cloth - one might say SCRATCHY, hoo hoo. When it comes to CATEGORISING STUDENTS, I could be considered a professional. My unique talents in LEGILIMENCY and OMNISCIENCE make me an ideal candidate for the role of excavating these children’s minds, rather like a muggle psychiatrist. In fact, if one were feeling gregarious, they might might call me a DOCTOR, hee hee.

I will now explain the joke. My use of ‘DOCTOR’ and ‘SCRATCHY’ closely parallels my appellation in alternate worlds. I am aware of this, although you may not be. It’s hardly your fault, reader; for you are not DOC SCRATCH, and thus lack omniscience.

Continuing onwards. I am a gentleman, although I have a tendency to RATTLE ON. Ho ho. Anyhow, when it comes to my SCHOLASTIC DUTY, I show remarkable talent in observing the ASPECTS of each child I meet, hee hee, although I find myself with significantly less choice than I am accustomed to. A decrease of 33.3%, to be precise.

In the immortal words of one Carl Kinsella, HIVEWARTS largely operates with four categories of children: ‘brave, smart, evil and miscellaneous.’ This is amusing, as the original premise this fiction is based on showed clear faults in its depictions of academia, esteemed reader. I do not endorse this claims, although I will allow myself a genteel chuckle, for I am a courteous hat.

Because of my incomparable knowledge, I have much to say on the fascinating, arbitrary divisions the Wizarding World in these tales suffers. Does the vilification of Slytherin house not show a larger cultural fear of ambition and cunning amongst you? The answer, of course, is yes. In fact, the…

[read more]

Ah, you’ve put a [read more] bracket in, presumably in despair of my lengthy dissection of the HIVEWARTS houses. This is unnecessary; even as I detailed the minutiae of each category, I was aware of this plan, and so have removed it all from the text. If you doubt me - which I cannot advise - do click that bracket. It will not work, and all you’ve done is create a lengthy aside of little relevance to the average reader, which was, of course, what you sought to prevent.

The limits of your wisdom must be frustrating. From my near-limitless comprehension, I can observe your lack thereof: ignorant to the past, to the present, and to the future. Fear not, for I will dole sweet morsels of knowledge to you like candy from a bowl - but as for the conclusion of this tale? The shifting tide of growth, the tangled webs of friendships, the looming shadow of a familiar foe? Well, reader, you know nothing of that. And I am far too wise to spoil it for you.

For all your naivety, there are certain factoids you are aware of. For example, at this point, you might suggest I should really be singing an introduction to a cluster of just-germinated seeds, rather than elegantly chronicling my own musings. This is foolish of you, although understandable; for I am the HIVEWARTS hat, and multitasking is close amongst my face-up cards. Were you of my calibre, you would already be aware of my song, but you ultimately refused yourself that experience when you truncated my speech above.

Fortunately, I already knew this would happen, and so put very little effort into the song. My talent in that area could be pronounced lacking, which you might attribute to my corporeal vessel of felt. Aha, reader, for you have forgotten - my very essence is fabric and felt, whether I be cue or cap. I am changeless in that regard. And, of all the things I am, a singer is not one of them, although on occasion I will engage in a recreational round of fiddle. Hoo hoo, hee hee!

This, reader, is entertaining due to my status as a ‘devil’ allegory. The Devil is commonly associated with fiddling, although my talent is such that a loss to ‘Johnny’ is incredibly unlikely. Nonexistent, in fact.

In fact is the category I stay firmly planted in, it should be said. To you, who has come expecting epics of fantasy and intrigue - which, fear not, shall unspool deliciously - you may assume that my words are of speculation, or prophecy. This is incorrect. Divination is not, as they say, ‘my bag’; I deal with truth, truth that has yet to unfold - and yet, as I am saying this, it has! Just not for you, reader. You, I’m afraid, will just have to pace yourself.

Stuffing yourself with candy, as we both know, only leads to regret.

Later, you will be - are - returning to these words, intrigued, then suspicious, and then likely with satisfaction. But do not forget, reader, that knowledge is infinite, and you have only ever a finite capacity for it.

Unfortunately, another quantity you have only a dwindling supply of is time. And your allotment for enlightenment is drawing to a close, for now, the sorting begins.

Hee hee!

(I also wrote 16 goddamn characters getting sorted with backstories and conversation with Scratch, and established the ancestors/guardians in the universe. Give me my time back, foolish me from a year ago).

[uwusillygirl]

🌟 for directors cut!

i am going to be wild and crazy and pick bedroom eyes for this one because i recently reread it (and dare i say i ate... just a little...)

i tend to write fanfiction for art that i think could've been so good but ultimately failed in its execution (which i have mentioned i felt about stranger things before; in my real girl job i have actually written essays about this lmao), and i just wanted to like ti west's x so badly and so couldn't. same with pearl.

so the idea sort of came from that and from wanting to write something tangentially in the horror genre, but what i loved so much about bedroom eyes was it gave me a place outside of my more consistent series (which was first one's free at this point) to try technical and structural things i was worried about -- mainly POV shifts outside of eddie and chrissy, but particularly with steve harrington, who i have a huge affection for but always hesitate to write about/from his pov (or did up until bedroom eyes! now he's everywhere!)

i have really written so much in the past year that is porn where the plot is making porn, mostly because i think i'm fascinated by pornography as a concept and always have been, but also because fanfiction is such a rich well of pornography and erotica history and culture, and it feels really satisfying for me to write about the world of visual pornography and make it literary/readable? i just sort of like the meta mechanizations there.

and i just remember being so excited to post this one. i remember i posted it on my phone on a road trip in october, and i thought it just was so fun to do a "spooky" fic around halloween (especially one without a happy ending! i love a fic that ends unhappy! it's so literary to me in the world of fix-it fluff -- which i also love, absolutely no shade). i also remember being really nervous about how people would react to steve fucking robin, even in a totally work-based environment, but people were so cool about it, i didn't have to do any sex work 101 in the replies.

i just really like this fic and like what i did with it, and love that i got no urge to continue it. it felt like it's own little world.

thank you so much for asking! i'd love to answer any more from this ask prompt.

[ponyworldbuilding]

Let's begin

Why world building, why My Little Pony, and why do I care? (And why you should too!)

While I will argue that My Little Pony’s fourth iteration, Friendship is Magic, is a fantastic cartoon that’s enjoyable by people of all ages, I first started watching it when I fit within its target demographic. It’s a cheerful show about a group of friends who get up to various adventures in their quiet town. It’s easy to watch passively, it’s fun to really pay attention to, and I faithfully did that for the nine years of its runtime. The characters are fascinating to me, and so is Equestria.

Unlike many fictional universes, Equestria is built fundamentally different to Earth, ponies are fundamentally different to humans. Where humans have hands, ponies don’t. The stories and slice-of-life that the ponies get up to is charming enough on its own but there’s so many novel changes and concepts that I just find fascinating to stumble across and fun to watch the ponies overcome. That novelty can be hard to find anywhere else. While I watched the show for its characters and relatable struggles and life lessons, it was the fanfiction that kept me excited through the gaps in episode releases.

If Equestria were a box of toys, fan fiction is the stories people come up with playing with their action figures. I was and still am one of those people. Reading other’s expressions of what they love is where I got my own love of reading, wanting to try out my own ideas in the same way is how I discovered that I enjoy writing just as much. I started my career in writing by “role playing” out stories with other fans of Friendship is Magic. It was far from proper narrative writing, but the ideas that we could explore and the obstacles and quirks that come with quadrupedal characters have given me a vivid imagination geared toward details and immersion. It’s still fun to analyse what made this show and its universe so important to me, so I made this blog.

Analysing exactly how Lauren Faust’s creation has come to be so loved and utilised, down to the smallest details, is my own lesson in how to immerse a reader in original works and avoid conflicting setting elements I'd like to share with everyone. Why do ponies have steam trains and airships alongside arcade machines and DJ tables? Why do they have printing presses and modern dams, but not a single ball-point pen?

[zapreportsblog]

I Don’t Want To Be A Hero, So Leave Me Alone

➥ summary: Like any reincarnation fanfiction this story has to do with a women from the real world dying and getting reincarnated into a anime with some massive op powers. Throughout most of this story you are nothing but a 8 month year old which transforms later on into a child, well if we make it that far that is.

➥ chapter 12: The Dance of Destruction and Creation

Tomura gazed at his baby sister, (Y/N), her eyes sparkling with wonder as she observed him with intense curiosity. They were in his room, a space where he often let his destructive power loose. Today, however, he had an audience—(Y/N), who seemed entranced by the crumbling objects that succumbed to his decay quirk.

As Tomura reached out his hand, causing a small figurine to disintegrate into dust, he expected (Y/N) to flinch or show signs of fear. Instead, to his surprise, her eyes widened with anticipation, her tiny fingers reaching out to touch the dissipating remnants of the figurine.

In that moment, Tomura felt a mixture of awe and confusion. He had always believed his quirk to be a curse, a power that isolated him from others. Yet here was his sister, seemingly fascinated by his ability to destroy. Little did he know, she possessed a power of her own—one that would reshape his understanding of their connection.

"(Y/N), are you... enjoying this?" Tomura asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

She giggled, her innocent laughter echoing in the room. "Yes!”

Tomura's eyebrows furrowed as he watched her closely. "But why? I'm destroying things. Isn't that... bad?"

(Y/N) shook her head, her eyes alight with a unique perspective. "It no bad. Yes it good.”

’Tomura. It's about the dance of destruction and creation. You break things, and I can put them back together.’

Tomura's eyes widened as if coming to a realization. Her quirk, omnimanipulation, allowed her to manipulate matter and reform what was broken. It was a power of creation, a counterbalance to his destructive abilities. Suddenly, the seemingly destructive nature of his quirk took on a new significance—it set the stage for her own power to shine.

As Tomura observed his sister, a spark of curiosity ignited within him. He reached out, decaying another object, and watched as (Y/N) focused her attention on the dust particles. Her hands moved with precision, weaving through the air, and the dust began to coalesce and reform, as if guided by an invisible force.

The toy, once destroyed, was restored before his eyes, its colors vibrant and intact. Tomura's awe transformed into a mixture of awe and excitement. The realization of their unique connection blossomed within him. They were two sides of the same coin, balancing each other's powers in a delicate harmony.

"(Y/N), your quirk... it's amazing," Tomura said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "Together, we can create and destroy. We have the power to shape the world around us."

(Y/N) smiled, her eyes reflecting the bond between them. “Yes!”

‘That’s what makes us special, Tomura. We can turn destruction into creation. Our powers, combined, hold the potential to bring balance and make a difference.’

In that moment, Tomura understood that their quirks were not curses but gifts. They were intertwined in a symbiotic relationship, each enhancing the other's abilities. It was no longer just about his destructive power—it was about the interplay between their abilities, a delicate dance between destruction and creation.

Tomura couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as he looked at his baby sister. Her quirk was a testament to their shared lineage, a testament to the strength that ran in their blood. They were not simply individuals with extraordinary powers; they were a family bound by a unique destiny.

As the days turned into weeks, Tomura and (Y/N) continued to explore the depths of their powers. They honed their abilities, finding new ways to create and destroy. Together, they became a formidable force, united by their extraordinary quirks and an unbreakable bond.

With every triumph and every challenge, Tomura and (Y/N) grew closer, forging a connection that transcended their powers. They understood that their role extended beyond the use of their abilities—it was about protecting and supporting each other, about embracing the inherent strength that came from their familial ties.

In the midst of their journey, Tomura and (Y/N) discovered the true potential of their powers. They navigated the complexities of their abilities, unlocking new techniques and exploring the limits of their strengths. Their journey was not just about destruction or creation, but about understanding the responsibility that came with wielding such power.

As Tomura watched his sister, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. They were destined for greatness, and together or apart they would make a difference in this world. With their unique quirks, they would rewrite the story of heroes, leaving an indelible mark on the world.

They were no longer two individuals with extraordinary abilities; they were a duo bound by love, power, and an unbreakable bond. Brother and Sister.

With each step they took, Tomura and (Y/N) moved closer to their true potential. Their journey was just beginning, but they were ready to face any challenge that came their way. They would shape their destiny, guided by the delicate dance of destruction and creation, and leave a lasting legacy unlike any the world had ever seen.