#fixing weak worldbuilding

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

as a reader being frustrated at how utterly weak sjm’s worldbuilding is, as a writer being happy at the absolute goldmine of possibilities that aren’t canonically refuted.

miss janet never went into depth what feyre’s powers actually are? well now she can drown ppl on dry land and control bodies like a corporalnik. canon cannot tell me i’m wrong because canon is poorly defined

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

*baps self on head with a cardboard tube*

If you're going to fix someone's worldbuilding from the ground up out of spite masquerading as a creative exercise, you need to read the book first, not just watch 3 hour youtube breakdowns of it.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A 3-Part Book Editing Checklist

PART 1: The "Big Picture"

Identify and fix macro problems relating to plot, character development, narrative arc, and theme.

THEME & IDEA

Is a compelling dramatic question present throughout the book?

Is there a clear theme? Is it well-developed and engaging?

Can you recap your story or argument in this single sentence? “[Character] must [do something] to achieve [goal] or [reason why the audience should care]”

Is there a clear central conflict? Is it resolved by the end of the book?

STRUCTURE Fiction & Memoir; Nonfiction

Fiction & Memoir

Is there a strong beginning, middle, end?

Does your exposition effectively set the story? Introduce the cast of characters? Impart backstory?

Is your rising action triggered by a compelling inciting incident? Does it escalate the conflict and raise the tension?

Is the pace of each act in the narrative arc appropriate?

Does the plot maintain forward movement in each chapter? Do subplots support that momentum?

Are all major plot threads and subplots resolved by the denouement?

Do the plot points sync with the narrative arc and theme that you want to convey?

Do the plot twists make sense? Are there plot holes in the story?

Nonfiction

Does the first chapter of your book introduce your central question and explain why it’s important to answer?

Does your exposition adequately introduce readers to your topic? Does it provide enough context for them to understand your main argument?

Does each chapter or section build on the information that comes beforehand?

Is the length and pace of each chapter appropriate?

Does each chapter contain an appropriate mixture of fact and anecdote?

Is your structure engaging and easy to follow?

Does your book contain any extra information that distracts or detracts from the main argument?

Are there any holes or gaps in your argument?

CHARACTERS Protagonist; Antagonist; Supporting Cast; Setting

Protagonist

Does the protagonist have strengths and weaknesses? Do these interact with the story appropriately?

Does the protagonist grow and change?

Does the protagonist have defining mannerisms? Clear character traits?

Does the protagonist have external and internal goals? Are they visible throughout the story?

Does the protagonist act believably in each scene? Is the protagonist’s behavior consistent? Chart the protagonist’s character arc over the course of the story. Is it clearly and compellingly conveyed in the story?

Antagonist

Does the antagonist have story motivation?

Does the antagonist have a believable backstory?

Is the relationship between the protagonist and the antagonist clearly defined?

Supporting Cast

Is the supporting cast fleshed out?

Do the secondary characters have a reason to be there? Do they:

Reveal key details?

Advance the plot?

Motivate the protagonist?

Help define the setting?

Are interactions between the secondary character and the protagonist believable and well-placed?

Do the secondary characters have distinguishing characteristics or mannerisms?

Setting

Does the setting make sense for the purposes of the story? Does it matter to the plot?

Are descriptions of the setting rendered effectively and appropriately?

Does each scene convey a clear sense of place and time?

Is the worldbuilding fully realized? Logically consistent?

Fact-check each scene in relation to the setting. Are objects, props, mannerisms, and behaviors native to the time and place of the story?

PART 2: The "Scene" Level

Strengthen specific elements within individual scenes

SCENES & CHAPTERS

Is the opening scene effective?

Does it start in the right place?

Does it have a hook? Is the hook immediately gripping?

Are the scenes appropriately paced to grab the readers’ attention? Are the chapter lengths effective?

Does each scene serve a purpose in the story?

Is each scene oriented in terms of time and place?

Are scene transitions smooth?

DIALOGUE

Does the dialogue serve a purpose in each scene? Does it:

Provide information?

Advance the plot?

Help the pace?

Does each character have a distinct voice?

Is the dialogue believable for the time and place of the story? Is the word choice reflective of the time period?

Does the dialogue use action beats to control the pace of the scene?

COMPOSITION Voice & Point of View; Prose

Voice & Point of View

Is the narrator’s voice consistent?

Is the voice appropriate given the context of the book and its story or argument?

Is foreshadowing used effectively, if applicable? Metaphors? Similes?

Is the viewpoint character always clear? Is it consistent between scenes?

Is the point of view suitable for each scene? Is there a better alternative for a viewpoint character in any given scene?

Prose

Is the backstory of the world or characters efficiently woven into the story?

Does each sentence contribute something to the story?

Do you “show, don’t tell” with your dialogue, characters, and setting?

QUOTES & REFERENCES

Are quotes and references used to support the argument?

Are all of your sources reliable?

Do quotes help aid the narrative progression, or do they interrupt it?

Have you paraphrased where possible?

Are there appropriate transitions before and after references?

Are all quotations accurate?

Have you chosen a citation style?

Have you cited all references according to that style?

PART 3: The "Line" Edit

Ensure the text is objectively correct. This covers everything from typos and grammar to continuity and syntax.

PUNCTUATION & DIALOGUE

Limit the use of adverbs in your dialogue tags. (Show, don’t tell!)

✗ “Why did you eat my turkey sandwich?” said Harry angrily. ✓ Harry upended the table. “Why did you eat my turkey sandwich?”

Check for the use of other dialogue tags and replace them with “said” and “asked,” unless other emphasis is absolutely necessary.

✗ “Did you just stab me with this thimble?” queried Amber. ✓ “Did you just stab me with this thimble?” asked Amber.

Check that all of the dialogue is formatted correctly.

✗ “I love you.” Said Pam. ✓ “I love you,” said Pam.

VOICE

Limit the use of weak verbs and adverbs in general.

✗ Leonard ran quickly to school. ✓ Leonard sprinted to school.

Replace all “hidden” verbs.

✗ Offer an explanation ✓ Explain

Check for the use of passive voice and replace with active voice, whenever appropriate.

✗ The ball was kicked. ✓ She kicked the ball.

Use “telling” words such as “felt,” “saw,” “knew,” and “seemed” sparingly.

✗ His head felt awful. ✓ His head throbbed.

LANGUAGE

Delete vague and subjective words.

✗ Could, might, maybe, more, poor, good, excellent, bad, some, multiple, really, literally, suddenly, simply, just, a little, almost, etc

Delete all instances of cliches in the text.

✗ It was a dark and stormy night.

Check for excessive repetition in the text.

✗ Go to [do something]

Check for instances of overly complicated language.

✗ In close proximity ✓ Near

Source ⚜ More: Writing Worksheets & Templates Writing References: Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding

More Notes: On Editing

[alexanderwales]

Alright, here's my dream Stardew Valley style game, designed for my own tastes.

You come to a small town with the usual twenty to thirty people. It's in the middle of nowhere. It's a fantasy town, and no one actually farms anymore, partly because it's only questionably profitable, partly because a lot of the knowledge has been lost. Instead, everyone uses these magic doodads which are very powerful but also very limited. The tavernkeeper has a doodad that makes him a single kind of weak ale and a single variety of off-tasting wine. The clothier has basically a square mile of linen to work with, and everyone wears her drab clothes. Tools are made from a doodad that the blacksmith owns, not even made of any actual metal, just a material that wears away after a month and needs to be replaced by a new copy from the blacksmith's doodad. People get their meals from the doodads. They get their medical checkups. It's all a bit shit.

Because I'm a worldbuilder at heart, I would have this all exist in the wake of a large-scale war that depleted the town of its fighting-age population, with the doodads being a sort of government program to ensure that more of the lifeblood of the town could be drained away. And for there to be some reason for the town to continue existing, perhaps the government is harvesting some resources necessary in the creation of doodads. That's enough for a pro-doodad faction and maybe some minor drama with them, though I do like the idea that the only reason things are Like This is because there was a war and things got bad. It's not necessarily a bleak town, but there's definitely a listlessness to it, a "what's the point".

So you're a farmer, but no one is really a farmer anymore. Maybe there are a few books, but you don't learn farming from books, you learn it from practical experience; that's a lot of what this game is about. When you start, there's no one to buy seeds from, there's just a bunch of wilderness where farms once stood, now all long overgrown.

So you go out and forage, for a start, and you clear the land, and you pay attention to the plants and how they can be used, and you start in on making recipes with them, maybe with the help of your grandfather's old, partially incomplete books. You find some wild corn that's a descendant of the old times. You find some tomato seeds in an urn. You discover potatoes because you see them dug up by a wild boar, which itself was once a domesticated animal.

In my ideal game, you need to pay attention to the soil quality, to how far apart things are planted, to what crops work well together. Farming is a matter of companion planting and polycultures. You get some chickens by giving them consistent feed, and you keep them around because they're natural pest control. Your climbing beans climb the stalks of your maize. You're attracting pollinators. (From a gameplay perspective, yeah, we probably put this all into a grid, and you have crop bonuses from adjacencies, and emergent gameplay that comes from all that, some plants providing shade, others providing nitrogen fixing.) You're a scientist making observations about the plants, maybe with your incomplete book giving you confirmation on the nature of all your crops once you hit certain production goals or a perfect specimen or whatever.

Cooking is the same. There has got to be a system that I like better than just "combine tomato with bread to get tomato bread". I'm pretty sure that it's some variant of the actual process I use when cooking, which is making sure that things are properly cooked, balancing flavors against each other, adding in a little salt or acidity or umami or whatever. Time in the kitchen, in this game, is often about making meals, ensuring that if you have a fatty piece of meat you have some asparagus that's coated with lemon to go with it. (From a gameplay perspective, I think building the dish once is probably sufficient and it can be automated after that, and building the meal is the same. I don't want to play this minigame every time I'm cooking a dish, I just want to play it a single time until I have good knowledge of the best way to grill a BBQ chicken breast with a homemade sauce.)

But if we're having a little minigame here where we pay attention to how long we're cooking the kale to make sure that it's the right texture, and we're paying attention to abstractified mouthfeel and palette, then we can get something else for free: variation. See, you're not just cooking to get an S grade, you're cooking for people with different tastes. The cobbler has a sweet tooth, the librarian loves fruity things, the mayor cannot stand fish, that sort of thing. From a gameplay perspective, maybe we represent this with a radar graph with some specific favorite and least favorite individual flavors, and maybe it's visible to the player, but the important thing is that player gets feedback and have a reason to strive for both "good" and "perfection" and some of this is going to depend on the quality of the ingredients.

And this is, gradually, how the town is brought back into the fullness of life. You're not just cooking for these people, you're also selling them food, and they're making their own recipes, and all the stuff that's not food is making their businesses not suck anymore. After the first test keg of ale goes swimmingly, the tavernkeeper wants more, a lot more, and puts in an order for hops, wheat, grapes, anything he can use to make things that will improve nights at the tavern. The clothier will skeptically take in wool and spin her own yarn, and then eagerly want more, because how awesome is it to have a new textile? There's a chemist who is extremely interested in dyes and paints, and wants you to bring him all kinds of things to see what might be viable for going beyond the ~3 colors that the doodads can provide.

So by year two, if you're doing things right, you're the lynchpin of the revivalist movement. People are now moving to the town, for the first time in decades, because they hear that you're there and doing interesting things with the wilderness. Maybe there are other farmers following in your wake, but maybe it's just new characters who are specifically coming because a crate of wine was shipped to the capital city. Maybe some of them bring new techniques for you, or a handful of plants from a botanical garden, and there are new elements for the minigames, or maybe some automation for the stuff that's old hat.

I think something that's important to me is that there's a reason for the crops you plant and the things you do. I always like these games best when it feels like I'm doing something for someone, when I can look at a plot of cabbages and think "ah, those are the cabbages I owe to Leon". Where these games are at their worst, everything is entirely fungible and I've planted eight million blueberries because they have the highest ROI.

And yeah, in most of these games, there are other minigames like fishing and mining and logging and crafting, and since this is just a blog post and not a game, I definitely could massively expand an already sizeable scope.

I think for mining the player would use doodads of their own, and maybe you could make a mining minigame out of that, using the same planting tile system to instead create an automated ore harvesting machine that plumbs the depths of the earth (possibly dealing with rocks of different hardness, the water table, and other challenges along the way).

Fishing is a question of understanding the different fish species, what they eat, where they congregate, and then setting nets or lines, since I have never met a fishing minigame I really enjoyed. Again, there's some idea that the player is gaining information over time, building up a profile of these fish, noticing that some of them go nuts when it rains, understanding the spawning season, that they go to deeper water when it's cold, etc.

Crafting really depends on what you're crafting, but if you're reintroducing traditional artisan processes to this town, then people are going to need tools and machines and things. I'm not sure I know what a proper crafting game looks like. The only experience I have to draw on is wood shop, where I made wooden boxes, cutting boards, and picture frames. Since this is an engineering-lite puzzle-lite game, you could maybe do something in that vein, e.g. defining a number of steps that get you the correct thing you're trying to make, but ... eh. I love the idea of designing a chicken coop, for example, or building a trellis if I want my climbing beans to not need maize, or whatever, but I don't know how you actually implement that. There are definitely voxel-based and snap-to-grid games where you build bases, and I tend to find that fun ... but it's mostly cosmetic, for the obvious reason that doing it any other way than cosmetic requires programmatic evaluation, which is difficult and maybe unintuitive. The closest I think I've seen is ... maybe Tears of the Kingdom? Contraption building? But I don't know how you translate that to a farming game. Maybe I should ask my wife about this, because she's always doing little projects around the house (an outdoor enclosure for our cats, a 3D-printed holder for our living room keyboard, a mounting for our TV).

Making an interesting crafting system is difficult, which is why pretty much no one has done it.

And if I'm talking pie in the sky, without concern for budget or scope, I want the villagers to all have a mammoth amount of writing for them. I want petty little dramas and weird obsessions, lives that evolve with or without my input, rudimentary dialog trees that let me nudge things in different directions. This is just an unbelievable amount of work on its own, it would be crazy, but I would love having a tiny little town game where sometimes other people would fall in love. I would like to be invited to a wedding, maybe one that happened because I encouraged the chemist to hang out with the clothier, and in the course of working together on dyes, they fell in love. With twenty people in town and another ten that come in over the course of the game if you hit the right triggers, I do think this is just a matter of having a ton of time/budget. You write tons and tons of dialogue so there's not much that's repeated, you have some lines of conversation between characters that are progressed through, you have others that trigger off of events, and then you have personal relationships between NPCs that can be progressed through time or with player intervention. Give single characters a pool of love interests, have their affections depend on their routine which depends on what's changed in town ... very difficult to do without spending loads and loads of time on it though.

Anyway, that's one of my dream games. No one is ever going to make it, it would be a niche of a niche, and as scoped here, is too much for a small team to ever actually finish, let alone polish. But it's the sort of thing I'm imagining in my head when I think about playing Stardew Valley and its successors.

[lsunstreakerl]

just imagine the walk of shame as I bring you all this fic, please and thank you. 6.6k of the tentacle verse I clearly said I would not be revisiting. if you aren't caught up, this verse was born during the smut prompts of February, and you can probably guess what the prompt was! this has also been referred to as the sea creature charles au. part one, part two.

helllooooo this is explicit! there's a chunk in the beginning, and then I got lost in the sauce for worldbuilding, and then back to being explicit near the end.

pairings: charles leclerc/max verstappen

relevant heads up: literally everything from the first two fics, a dash of body horror, uh, biting in a violent way, and sharkstappen. questionable dietary habits when you think too hard about it.

Charles has been a massive dick the entire season, and Max is over it. He doesn't want anything to do with him, even though Charles keeps shooting him quick glances at the drivers dinner. He's been trying to get a moment alone with Max for weeks, but Max isn't interested.

He's going to sleep for a week, eat junk food, maybe go clubbing with Daniel, and play video games. It's his entire plan for the break, and nowhere in it does he have Charles.

Charles tries to corner him after dinner anyways, frowning as he boxes Max in a hallway corner as everyone is leaving.

"Max, can we talk? Please? I know you are upset with me, and I want to fix that-"

"You did not seem interested in fixing it during the season."

Max isn't interested in what Charles has to say- wants this conversation to be over with already.

Charles presses his lips together, eyebrows furrowed.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but even if I could just see you over break? Get lunch?"

Whatever gets him off of Max's back.

"Sure."

Max doesn't mean it- has no intention of actually following through, but Charles seems relieved, shoulders relaxing as he gives Max an apologetic grin.

"Thank you."

------

Max has come up with an excuse the last three times Charles had reached out to him, but he really does mean it this time- he's not feeling well.

He's dizzy constantly, thirsty and weak. He has no idea what's wrong with him, and no combination of over the counter medications have been able to get rid of the ache in his gut, settled just behind his stomach.

He feels like shit.

He's been chugging water down, but it's not enough, and everything feels too bright and too dry- he's going insane.

Max had been meaning to wait it out, let it get better naturally, but it's only getting worse now, and he's not even sure what it is- just knows he needs something.

He's half delirious in his bed, tangled in his sheets. It's dry, so dry he feels sick with it, and he needs some kind of solution.

Going down to the harbor when he feels like this is out of the question, so he's stumbling over to the sunken bathtub, cranking the faucet on and letting it fill.

It takes forever.

When it's finally filled to the brim, water splashing over the edges, Max sinks down into it, groaning as he settles.

It's marginally better- he doesn't feel like he's going to crack apart at the edges anymore, body finally starting to relax. It's not helping anything else though, his head still spins, and he still has a desperate ache inside of him, but it's enough for him to lean his head against the rim of the tub, eyes fluttering closed.

------

Max wakes up when the water has gone cold, manages to fight through the haze to drain the tub, filling it back up with warm water. He's hungry- has no idea when he last ate- but there's no way he leaves the tub, not when it's the only thing that's helped.

His fingers are shaking when he turns the faucet off, head thunking against the side of the tub again. He knows something is wrong- really wrong- but he's spiraled too far to do anything about it- his phone is in the other room. He has no idea how long he's been in the water.

His eyes drift shut again, and he starts accepting that this is somehow his fate. 'Formula 1 Champion Max Verstappen Found Dead in Bathtub!' isn't quite the end he'd been hoping for.

------

"-ax. Idiot."

There's something....

Max groans, slowly waking up. There's something in his mouth, stretching his lips wide and filling his throat, slick and strong. It's satisfying the thirst that water hadn't, thick and viscous inside of him.

He shifts and realizes there's something between his legs as well, coiling up further and further- he's so full, feels so much better than the ache of before.

His throat is stretched too wide for him to swallow, but he doesn't need to, eyes blinking up to hazily stare at his savior.

Charles is cramped into the bathtub with him, looking equal parts concerned and annoyed.

"Good morning, you stupid, petty brooder."

Max makes a muffled noise. Charles is... Charles is good, he takes care of Max, he'll make it better.

Charles sighs, and then Max is being pressed tight to his chest, sharp teeth scraping his nose as he leans down to kiss him.

"You see how dumb you were being now? You are changing, Max. You have cycles now too, and ignoring them- ignoring me- is only going to hurt you."

Max isn't quite following. He's feeling so much better now- his needs are met, and he kind of wants to get fucked.

Really wants to get fucked.

It must be apparent to Charles, who looks annoyed with him.

"I am not giving you a clutch in your bathtub, Max. We are going back to the cave, and I am going to breed you properly. We're behind schedule now anyways, since you wanted to be so fucking stubborn. You'll still be carrying a week before testing starts."

Sure, whatever Charles wants. Whatever gets Max more of this, feeling better than he has in days.

------

Max is draped across Charles' lap, tentacles working their way across his body. His eyes roll back into his head as the one in his ass pushes further into him, thicker than what he's used to.

He's pretty sure Charles has given him the actual clutch already- he feels full even in the rare moments there aren't tentacles inside of him. That doesn't stop him from moaning around the one in his throat as they squeeze tighter around him, holding him in place.

He vaguely remembers the prior years, but they hadn't been as... intense, as this year. Max has never needed it like this before- he can barely stand to have the tentacles out of him, pressed close to Charles constantly.

Charles has one of his hands pressing on Max's spine, pushing him further down as Max tries to squirm.

"If you had not been ridiculous earlier this would not have been so bad, Max. But no, you wanted to be petty and wait, and it's messed with your head, yes? You need more?"

Max wants more. He wants more bad, trying to push his hips back up into Charles' hand even as the tentacle inside of him swells, pushing inside of him into sweet spots he didn't know he had.

It's still not enough, he wants-

He wants another clutch, body desperately trying to accommodate for it, starting to wiggle in Charles' lap.

Charles makes a low noise, apprehensive.

"Max, if I give you more it's going to be a lot, yes?"

Max doesn't care, just needs to be full, needs to settle the empty ache he's feeling.

"Okay. Hold still for me."

The tentacles around him tighten, holding him down as the one inside of him starts to rhythmically swell and compress, and then Max can feel it-

It's not like with the clutch, where there's a full pressure. It's a hot swell inside of him, heavy and viscous, more liquid than anything. Max finally falls still as it seeps inside of him, weighing him down.

There's a moment where it feels perfect, exactly what he needed, but then it keeps going, pushes into being too much- Max wants to struggle, but it's pushing him down, making him feel like he's made of lead.

Charles coos softly at him even as Max tries to whine against the tentacle in his mouth, because it's starting to hurt.

"There you go, yes, that was a full brooder drop. I did not think you were ready for that yet."

Max doesn't think he was ready either. It's too much inside of him, overwhelming everything else he could possibly feel. Charles' fingers brush over his cheek as the tentacles start withdrawing.

"Good job, Max. Perfect brooder for me, even if you made things difficult for us both."

There's a soft kiss to the side of Max's face.

"You had me very worried, when you wouldn't respond. You need this just as bad as I do now, but you don't remember, so you have to trust me, yes? Even when you are upset."

Max is barely following- gives a raspy noise that hopefully passes for confirmation. Charles nips lightly at him, teeth pricking into his skin.

"You're going to need extra food now- that is a big one."

The tentacles are lifting Max out of Charles' lap, and he groans at the feeling of everything shifting inside of him.

"Shh, it's alright, I'm just putting you back in the water."

Whatever Charles wants. Max is too exhausted to offer any input.

------

Max blinks awake to the sound of splashing, eyes cracking open. Charles must be back with food, although he's usually a bit quieter coming into the cave.

He freezes, breath catching in his throat, heard pounding.

There's someone else looking at him, settling along the rocks across from Max's ledge. It's a complete stranger, large orange tentacles dragging against the stone. They remind Max of an octopus, suckers decorating the underside of them.

He isn't breathing.

The man is leering at him, leaning forward.

"Hello breeder. You're new here, aren't you?"

Max scowls, even as he shrinks back further onto his ledge.

The man just moves closer, tentacles starting to drop into the water, drifting in Max's direction.

Max clenches his jaw, eyes narrowed.

"Get out."

"Oh?"

The man stops moving, eyeing Max.

"Isn't that cute. What exactly are you going to do, brooder? You're barely turning, and everyone knows that's the best stage. You're all so...

There's a tentacle trying to wrap around his ankle, and Max yanks his foot back- but the suckers cling, stretching his leg out in front of him instead.

"...Vulnerable."

Max's breathing picks up. He's in danger, real danger here- someone has come into their cave, and Charles isn't here, and Max is going to-

"You smell wonderful too. Young, well bred-"

Max feels more tentacles starting to slide across him. They're nothing like Charles, none of the smooth slide that he's used to. He's trembling.

"-scared."

He's running out of options- not that he had many to begin with- and Max swallows, curling his lip up in a futile threat.

The man just laughs softly, and then his eyes narrow-

Max is plunged underwater with him, breath leaving his lungs as his eyes fly open. They're going deep, by where the cave entrance is, and Max panics. He's pretty sure the man is an octopus, and he's pretty sure they're somewhat cannibalistic, and he's not fucking dying here.

He doesn't even think about it when he sees the tentacle heading for his neck- just lunges forward, mouth open as water rushes in, before he gets his teeth on the tentacle and bites.

It's hard and rubbery, thrashing in his mouth, but Max digs deeper- something in the taste is lighting up his brain, adding to the anger.

Max is better than him. It doesn't fucking matter that he's somehow ended up with a life where he spends some of his year fucked full with eggs- he's not some kind of cowering incubator.

If this man is stupid enough to come after Max-

He'll kill him.

The tentacle in his mouth flails wildly as Max digs his teeth deeper, and then it snaps, bursting in Max's mouth as he spits it out. He's furious.

A stranger, in their cave, coming after Max, when he has eggs-

The man looks angry, but there's not currently any tentacles on Max- he's withdrawn them all around his body, nursing the bitten one.

The water is bloody around them.

Max lowers his head, still watching him. He's floating in the water, but he looks like a threat now. He doesn't care if he has to go one by one- the man can either leave now, or he can leave in pieces.

He snarls at Max, but his body language isn't aggressive anymore, and he's slinking towards the cave entrance.

Max won't relax until he's gone, but at least he's leaving.

Which is of course when Charles comes in.

It's fast- Max can't really keep track of it, just knows there's a blur of dark blue and bright orange, and then Charles is slamming the man against the rock walls of the cave, biting a chunk out of his throat.

It should make Max sick. There's no possible way the man is alive, not with the way he looks when Charles lets go of him, using a dark blue tentacle to push the body outside.

The only thing Max feels is satisfaction. Charles came back and protected them.

Charles' eyes are wide when he sees Max underwater, and then he's being yanked to the surface, laid out in Charles' lap as worried hands stroke over his face, smooth tentacles gingerly wrapping around him.

"Max, Max can you breathe? How much water did you- Max, baby, please-"

Charles looks two seconds from CPR, and Max lifts a hand to bat at him. He's fine.

He tries to open his mouth to say that, but there's a weird whistling noise when he inhales, and Charles' eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh- Oh, Max! That is amazing, you have-"

Max has fucking gills.

------

Charles brings them both back to the surface.

"You were using them fine when I came in, why can't you use them anymore?"

Max is scowling.

"Because I am not supposed to breathe underwater, Charles. I am a human person- not whatever weird fish shit you have going on."

Charles furrows his brows.

There's still flecks of blood on his face.

"But you are? You are a brooder, Max. Yes, you are turning faster than I thought you would, but you're still turning. Which is what I expected? We talked about this."

What.

"No? No, Charles, we definitely didn't- you said something about the chemicals messing with my memories. There was not any discussion of gills."

Max pauses.

"And I sort of thought when you were calling me a brooder it was-"

He makes a face, because he thinks about bringing it up every year, but by the time he remembers, it's always right before he forgets.

"-it was derogatory or something. Like calling your partner a slut."

Charles raises an eyebrow at him.

"And you were okay with that?"

Max tosses his hands up, frustrated. There's a complicated swell of emotions inside of him, and they're getting harder to suppress, thick behind his throat.

"I was more concerned about the egg thing, Charles!"

Charles is resettling Max where they're floating in the water, tentacles brushing soothingly across his skin. Max blinks rapidly.

"I did not explain it very well, Max. I'm sorry, it is also just that-"

Charles huffs, and his gills flare on the side of his neck. Max had never really noticed them before- Charles takes care to keep them closed above water.

"We only take one brooder in our lifetimes? And you obviously are the first I have had, and I don't exactly- I mean, Lolo has told me some about what his partner went through, but obviously these things are different."

Max blinks, digesting Charles' words. Processes.

His eye twitches.

"You don't know?"

Charles winces.

"Not really."

Max can't tell if he wants to scream or cry, and instead a slightly hysterical laugh bubbles out of his lips.

The tentacle thing- manageable, if Max doesn't think too hard about it.

The egg thing- a little harder to deal with, but Max can compartmentalize.

The gills? His entire body turning into something different, something he has no control over? Something even Charles doesn't understand? He has no idea how to handle that.

"So, what? I'm going to go full fish person? Did you-"

Max cuts himself off, doubling over in laughter, even though it isn't very funny at all.

"Did you turn me into a fucking mermaid, Leclerc?"

"Max-"

Charles sounds concerned, hands trying to settle on Max's waist, but Max twists away. He can't tell if he wants to smash Charles' head against a rock, or his own.

"I mean- what the fuck? Genuinely, what the fuck? How do I even- How am I supposed to handle this, huh? Do you know? Did you think about that before you yanked me off the beach?"

Max is feels like he's going off the rails, hands flying as he speaks, voice getting higher as his eyes get worryingly wet.

"Where, at any point, was I even asked?"

Charles flinches.

Max isn't done.

"Nowhere! Absolutely nowhere! No one ever went 'hey Max, do you want to be a fish person for the rest of your life?' because the answer would have been no!"

His chest is heaving, eyes darting around the cave wildly.

"And now- and now every year, I have these fucking eggs, and they are- they are mine, and we fucking abandon them. I did not want to be a parent, but I refuse to be that kind of parent. I don't care that it's 'nature', Charles, it's not me!"

Charles looks at though Max has stabbed him, hands helplessly reaching for him even as Max shifts away.

"On top of it all, I am turning into a fucking mermaid!"

His words are shaky, and he's trembling. He wants to curl up, to protect the eggs. He doesn't know if that's Max Brain or Fish Brain- is there even a difference?

He wants to cry.

He wants to punch Charles in the face.

Charles is keeping his distance, giving Max the space he's asked for, even though it looks like it's physically paining him.

"Max-"

Max bursts into tears, curling up on his stupid rock ledge, wanting Charles near him, despite the fact that the whole thing is his fault.

There's a brush of a tentacle against him, and when Max doesn't shove him away, Charles cautiously drifts closer, pulling him into his chest.

"I hate you."

The tentacles are wrapping around him, cocooning him in the safety that is Charles.

"I'm sorry, Max."

It doesn't fix anything.

------

Max refuses to try and breathe underwater with Charles around. He's refusing to do much anything with Charles, which is extremely distressing for both him and probably also the eggs.

He feels terrible for the eggs- but he can't bring himself to get over it.

Charles is out hunting again, even though Max is on a self imposed hunger strike since early morning.

He slides carefully off the rock ledge back underwater. It's definitely a mental block- telling himself that it's okay to open his mouth and inhale water isn't going over well with the reasonable side of him.

He grits his teeth and tries anyways.

The first rush of saltwater is the worst, stinging his nose and the back of his throat, and he's expecting to choke, prepared for it-

He takes an even breath.

And then another.

Slowly, he starts to relax, carefully letting go of the rock ledge, where his fingers have had a death grip on the stone.

He kicks his legs, floating in the water as he adjusts. It feels like his regular breathing, just-

Through his neck.

This is fine.

Max tries to push his leg at the side of the wall to push off further into the water, but a shooting pain rips through his hip, and he immediately brings both legs up to his chest, hissing.

He gingerly tries to extend his leg to the side again, but there's a stiffness to his hips- they just won't work with him.

It's not a reason to panic. It's probably just a weird muscle cramp.

A really weird muscle cramp, on both sides.

Or maybe the fucking octopus tentacle he'd bitten off yesterday had a slow acting poison in it and he's dying.

He kind of wants Charles to come back, even if he's mad at him, because his legs aren't working, and he's about to start freaking out.

Max twists his core, scrunching up to push off the wall with both feet backwards, swimming back to the surface until his fingers are gripping his rock ledge again.

He pokes the top of his head out of water, blinking his eyes to adjust back to the dim light of the cave. He's still breathing through the gills, which is not any less weird than it was the first time.

There's a stack of fish near the edge- Charles has been in and out all day, trying to find something enticing enough for Max to break his hunger strike.

Max has been holding out on principle, but Charles still isn't back, so he drifts closer, picking through the pile.

It really is a good haul- fat fish, plenty of protein. Max isn't entirely sure what he's looking for, but he knows what he's not, so he carefully picks through the pile, discarding fish at random.

There's a particularly large trout near the bottom of the pile, and Max inspects it carefully before deciding he wants it.

There's just one problem- his ledge is back to his left, and his legs aren't doing him a whole lot of favors- he needs his hands.

Can't swim with both hands if he's holding a giant trout in one.

His eye twitches. Charles is never finding out about this.

Max sighs heavily, cringing as he lifts the trout, the slick scales against his teeth and tongue, gripping it between his teeth as he pushes back for the ledge, spitting it out onto the rock as soon as he arrives.

Disgusting.

Problem number two-

Charles has always deboned Max's fish. Max has no idea how to do it on his own.

He pokes at the slimy scales for a moment, trying to remember how Charles does it.

Except Charles is some kind of squid person, with freakishly sharp nails and lifetime of experience behind him, and Max has... none of those qualities.

Well.

He's got the gills now, but that isn't exactly helping him.

Does he just...?

Max grips one fin of the trout in one hand, holding the rest of the body with the other.

He gags, and then he rips.

It tears easier than he'd expected, and he's not near as disgusted by the metallic tang of blood as he should be.

He's not really sure where to go from here.

There's exposed meat now, but does he just... rip it out?

Max has not been appreciating Charles' fish filleting skills properly. He really doesn't want to rip chunks out, but-

He's hungry, and he's upset, and there's enough things going wrong in his life- the last thing he needs to do is accidentally fuck up the eggs any worse than he already has.

His eyes dart down to the water again, making sure there's no sign of Charles.

He lifts the fish in his hands, noise wrinkling, and bites.

------

Charles had to fight for his life to get this fucking tuna- if Max doesn't eat it, he's going to lose it.

He's dragging it behind him on the way back to the cave. He would've been more worried about leaving Max undefended, but letting an octopus hybrid corpse float up for scavengers is a pretty clear statement.

Admittedly, he hadn't expected Max to bite a tentacle off- he's both impressed and slightly disturbed.

Brooders- human ones anyways- most often turn into relatively peaceful hybrids. Certainly not the kind of hybrids willing to sink their teeth into an octopus.

Then again-

This is Max.

Charles feels his stomach roll with worry as he gets closer to the cave. Max has been furious since the discussion about the turning, and Charles...

He can't blame him. Max has valid points, a genuine reason to be angry. At the same time- his brooder has eggs, and the stress is bad enough- getting into a fight and going on a self imposed hunger strike isn't going to help anyone.

If Max doesn't like the tuna, Charles is going to have to settle him down and force feed him. Also something he doesn't want to do.

This whole breeding season has been a mess- Charles upset Max during the racing season, and then had to break into Max's flat, only to find his brooder a heatsick disoriented mess in the bathtub, and now Max is mad again.

His nose twitches as he swims through the entrance- there's a faint tang of blood in the water. Not Max's, thankfully. Charles focuses, dimming his bioluminescence and sinking to the bottom of the floor, carefully looking around.

There's a few fish bones that have sunken down to the sand- fresh ones. He gingerly lifts one, turning it over in his hands. It's decently large, tiny little nicks and chips in it.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say it looks like the feeding marks from a predator species- sharks and eels, the kind of hybrid species that Charles keeps his fair distance from.

They're not particularly opposed to hunting other hybrids, and Charles is strong- but he's not at their level.

He's grateful that the Mediterranean is warmer waters- they don't have to deal with some of the larger species, or the worst case scenario- orcas.

Still.

He lets the bone drop back into the sand, carefully swimming up to the surface. Ideally, Max would be more comfortable using his gills, and Charles could bring him to their actual nesting site, but his stubborn brooder refuses to try again.

Except-

Max is curled into a tight ball on his ledge, completely submerged. He's also deeply asleep, gills flaring softly with each exhale.

Charles is quiet as he brings the tuna over to the pile that's started to amass on the edge of the pool, but he's pleasantly surprised to find it in disarray.

Max has been in here, and Charles' trout he'd brought back a few hours ago- an impressive catch- is missing. He sets the tuna on the pile, eyes flicking over to the dry stone near Max's ledge.

There's a small pile of bones, and a splattered bloodstain.

Huh.

Charles... didn't think Max would have been willing to do that. He's been deboning all the fish for him, slicing them into little bite sized chunks for his brooder.

But now- it looks like Max had just torn into it.

So much for a hunger strike.

He drifts closer, brushing one hand against the side of Max's face. He has his legs curled up tight to him, although he's grimacing, even in his sleep.

Lolo had said his brooder went through the actual changes rapidly, once they started- a painful few days before she'd finally settled, coherent and also a beautiful flying fish hybrid.

Charles had been slightly jealous of the extravagant fins.

Max must be starting his physical change now, which means Charles can get them both to the real den, further underwater but closer to Monaco.

Now that Max is breathing through his gills, Charles thinks it's time- and he's been carefully working on their space, getting it ready for Max. It's larger than their current one, and it's more secure, solidly within old family territory.

There's a separate brooding space for Max, interconnected by tunnel inside the den, artfully arranged to be as ideal as possible. There's a sunken basin for fish storage, soft kelp weavings across the room, and the space itself is all smooth rock.

There's optional lighting, delicately brought in from above ground, but Charles has found that Max prefers being in the dark while he's being bred.

The rest of the den system is cozy- a sleeping space with a deep layer of sand for sleeping, and a coral structure to wrap around and rest on.

Charles will make more edits to it as he and Max settle, but as far as starter dens- it's acceptable. Max can nest in the brooders den while he turns.

He's a bit worried about this seasons eggs. Turning is going to take everything out of Max, and the stress that's been present throughout the entire ordeal can't possibly have helped. There's a chance Max has reabsorbed any possible nutrients for his own survival.

He carefully lifts Max in his arms, and uses a few stray tentacles to grab the rest of the fish.

Max shifts, face scrunching as he turns closer into Charles' chest. He's starting to produce the viscous gel over his legs and hips- so he's not a tentacle hybrid.

Charles is fairly confident that the gel will start to solidify into the structure of Max's tail, and when he starts to see scale growth is when he'll know Max is almost done.

His brooder is... probably going to want to kill him.

Charles definitely hadn't discussed the tail thing with him, but- he hadn't expected it to start with Max only three years in.

He's deliberately ignoring the glaringly obvious problem of racing. He and Max will figure it out when they get there.

------

Max feels terrible when he wakes up. His entire body aches, and everything is blurry when he blinks, like he's looking underwater.

He realizes a moment later that it's because he is.

He's completely submerged in a new cave, resting on the sand underneath him in a curved basin. There's tentacles draped across him, and Charles looks like he's also asleep a few feet away, half buried into the sand.

Max slowly stretches, arms in front of him as he pops his head above water, but when he goes to move his legs, they don't respond the way he's expects them to.

His head snaps down to look, but his entire lower half is covered in tentacles.

Max reaches to try and push at them, see what's going on, but the movement wakes up Charles, who looks almost-

Scared.

"Max, you're awake."

Max narrows his eyes. Trying to sit up feels weird too, and the tentacles just tighten further around his legs, making it impossible to see.

"Where the hell are we?"

Charles is fidgeting with his fingers, a nervous habit from when they were younger.

"We are in the actual den, now that you can breathe underwater. It's safer, and it is closer to Monte-Carlo also."

Max likes the sound of being closer to his actual flat, back at home, but he's got an equally pressing concern, and there's a bad feeling rising in his gut, twisting and turning inside of him.

"What are you not telling me, Charles?"

Charles winces, tentacles squeezing around Max.

"Remember our conversation about the turning thing?"

Max's heart drops to his stomach.

"No."

"Max-"

"No-"

He yanks away from Charles- his legs won't work with him, abdomen twisting weirdly as he turns, and when he's finally pulled away, hissing at Charles-

His legs are gone.

It's just- it doesn't even feel real. It can't possibly be real, the way Max transitions from smooth human skin to a rough, sandpapery texture.

The tail goes further than his feet had, and it's the same color as his skin, but there's an assortment of dark brown speckles and dots, extending from his ribs all the way down the tail.

There's a few fins, but they're not the frilly kind- they're rigid, clearly defined triangular shapes.

It's a prank. It has to be- some kind of prank, or a nightmare, or an awful drug trip.

It moves when Max moves.

The noise that comes out of him is strangled, high pitched and distressed, because he's-

His head whips back around at Charles.

"Fix it."

Charles winces again, shrinking back from him.

"I can't, Max, you have to learn to shed it normally-"

"Fix it!"

Max cannot be a fish person. Not only does he not want to be a fish person, he doesn't have the time for it, and it's not like he can drive when he has no legs.

Charles at least looks mournful and apologetic, for all the good it's doing him, carefully keeping his distance.

"Max..."

Max is a fish.

Max can't drive.

Max has a tail, because three years ago Charles decided to snatch him off a beach, fuck him full of eggs, and then kept doing it.

He's worryingly close to another breakdown, and he's already cried into Charles' arms about the whole thing, which leaves him with the other emotional extreme- and he's more partial to this one anyways.

"Leclerc."

Charles twitches.

"Max."

Max locks eyes with him, tries to make it as clear as possible that in this moment, he really does mean it-

"I am going to kill you."

Charles' eyes widen, and then he's bolting out of the space, a dark blue blur. Max doesn't waste any time, launching after him.

The tail feels like an extension of him, and he hits a few corners at first, scraping his skin on stone and coral in the unfamiliar cave system, but Charles is getting away, so he keeps going.

Once they're out of the cave in open water things get easier- Max moves fast with the tail, feels the adrenaline rush that he's always craving, eyes searching for where Charles has hidden himself.

There's a large kelp forest nearby, and Max feels a grin stretch across his lips.

Charles is in there somewhere.

He leisurely lounges around the edges of it, watching sharply for any movement. There's so many smells- but he's pinpointing on a specific one, a combination of Charles and something else that makes his mouth water.

It reminds him of their octopus intruder, the way the tentacle had burst in his mouth, chewy flesh under his teeth.

He takes another inhale, drifting down closer to the seafloor. He doesn't know much about squids, but he's pretty sure they like to hide in the sand.

There's a few moments where he doesn't see anything, and then he locks eyes with a familiar green shade, staring right back at him.

Charles' pupils are huge, fearful and wide as he looks at Max.

It's not terribly dissimilar to how Max had felt when he was first yanked off the beach, terrified and feeling distinctly like prey.

He winks at Charles, before swimming a few feet back.

He's not actually going to take a bite out of Charles- even if the idea makes his mouth water, his brain is also screaming at him not to do it. Seeing the look in Charles' eyes when he'd realized Max had seen him- that's satisfying enough on its own.

He opens his mouth, intending to speak, but all that comes out is a low warble. Charles carefully unearths from under the sand, but he moves painstakingly slow to the edge of the kelp forest, ready to bolt again at any moment.

Max rolls his eyes, following his nose to backtrack the scents back into the cave system they'd come out of. He wants to talk to Charles about this.

It's a good thing the tail feels like second nature, because if Max was dead in the water on top of everything else, he might've genuinely taken a chunk out of Charles.

He makes his way back into the first cave he'd woken up in, settling with his head above water.

It takes a few more minutes for Charles to slink in, staying tight to the walls as he eyes Max.

Max sighs.

"I think I am weaker now than I was before, I'm not sure what has you so freaked out."

Charles makes a weird squeaking noise, still watching Max intently, practically pasted against the opposite wall.

"You are- uh, you are a shark, Max."

Huh.

Max looks back down at the tail- not his tail, but the tail-

Nope. Still not real.

He furrows his eyebrows, head jerking back up to meet Charles' eyes as he remembers.

"Charles, the egg-"

Charles winces, worrying at his fingers.

"You absorbed it."

"I what?"

Max's voice goes high and hysterical, one hand pressing to the flat of his stomach.

"You needed the extra nutrients and support, and the turning process is much longer than the actual turn, so really,"

Charles is looking apologetically at him.

"They most likely did not even fertilize."

Max's head is spinning. He has a tail. He doesn't have eggs. He doesn't-

"I'm not doing this."

Charles tilts his head to side.

"I'm not sure...?"

Max throws his arms out, tail splashing unhappily.

"This, the fucking- the fish thing, the egg thing, everything. I want to go back."

"Max, you can't."

The words trip in Max's brain, rattle over everything else because he hates it and it's true.

His entire life has been people dictating what he can and can't do, and now that's extended to his body, his entire being-

He launches forward at Charles. He isn't sure what he wants, just knows he's upset and angry and it's Charles' fault.

"Shit-"

Charles is wrestling him below the water, and Max is snapping at him, gulping in mouthfuls of water as he thrashes.

There are tentacles sliding around him, and he swears he sees Charles mouth sorry at him before Max is being yanked into place, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder, deeper than Charles has ever bitten before.

He shouts, air bubbles moving towards the surface as the water tints red around them, blood- Max's blood- starting to surround them.

The tentacles around him are squeezing and sliding, and Max hates how it has him relaxing in their grip, hips twitching.

Having sex is not going to make him any less angry, even as he feels Charles lapping at the bite mark he's left behind, and a small tentacle is curling around Max's neck.

Something presses between Max's legs, a weird sensation with the tail, sending lightning bolts of pleasure through him- it feels like Charles is pressing on his prostate, but there's not even anything inside of him.

He jerks in the tentacles grip, eyes rolling back in his head as Charles does it again, and again, and then there's a tentacle sliding inside of him, and Max is moaning, spasming as it pushes deeper.

It's nothing like getting fucked- everything is so much, and he's already losing himself to it, tentacles coiled around his skin as Charles fucks a tentacle smoothly into him.

Max- he's upset, it isn't fair that this is working. Charles makes it hard to stay mad at him, sealing his mouth over the pinpricks in Max's skin, tentacles tight around him.

Max's mouth drops open, head dropping limply as Charles presses further into him, and he feels cored open with it, rearranged in the truest sense of the word.

He almost doesn't recognize the swelling sensation at first, but he definitely feels the pressure inside of him, and he fights back, teeth snapping in Charles' direction.

He doesn't want another clutch, that's not how they solve problems-

It's not until he starts trying to utilize his legs- or his tail, whatever it is now- that he realizes Charles is struggling, tentacles slipping against the rough skin of Max's lower body.

Max lunges forward again, eyes narrowed, but he's unfamiliar with the water, with the tail, and there's still tentacles inside of him, coiling up tight, and he gasps, lightning shock through his system at the abrupt fullness.

Charles takes advantage of his distraction, tentacles tightening enough to hurt, twisting forward and pressing him against the wall- Max freezes as he feels sharp teeth rest gently across the front of his throat.

He's completely still, some animalistic part of him realizing Charles is perfectly poised to rip his throat out. They're both tense, neither of them moving, before Max feels the tentacle inside of him uncoil, and he moans- the undoing is almost as bad, the sudden change in him.

He still doesn't dare move, even as he feels the pressure build up again, but- it's harder for Max to find the anger now. Charles won, so he's in charge. Max knows that's not how it's supposed to work, but he can't find his righteous anger about it, eyes rolling back as he twitches in the tentacles grip, fingers uselessly clenching into his palms as Charles deposits the clutch.

Again.

[ryin-silverfish]

Ask/Writing Masterlist (irregularly updating)

Ryin(阿璎), 23. She/They. First Gen Chinese student. Ryin_Silverfish on AO3. Currently hyperfixating on old Chinese novels. casual Zhiguai tales and LMK enjoyer.

Investiture of the Gods/FSYY:

Why are the Daoist immortals fighting?

Did Yuanshi Tianzun manipulate Shen Gongbao?

Chan, Jie, and possible prejudice against yaoguai

Azure Lion and the other Bodhisattvas' steeds in FSYY

Daji's fox form in FSYY Pinghua

The historical Su Daji

Is Shen Gongbao a yaoguai?

Are all yaoguai irredeemable monsters in FSYY?

Ao Bing and the dragons Nezha fought

Does deification wipe your memory and personality?

Bi Gan and the Great Fox Massacre

More discussion about prejudice against yaoguai

How old was Su Daji the human when she died?

Differences between FSYY novel and Pinghua

Musing on FSYY's view of fate and its possible effects on Yang Jian

Master Yuding

The messy marriages of FSYY

Is Daji a goddess in the novel?

Names of immortal masters in FSYY

Just for fun: the FSYY drinking game

Nezha's age in FSYY

Nezha's death and resurrection in FSYY

What happened to the original Daji?

Lady Shiji aka the Rock Demoness

Chinese Fox Spirits:

Auspicious/Demonic Foxes

More on fox spirits

The inner core of foxes

Foxes and their association with Fire

Notable fox spirits

The foxes of 狐狸缘全传

Has Daji ever been worshipped as a goddess?

Fox masks

The foxes of Liaozhai

Weaknesses and abilities of fox spirits

Three resource collections on Chinese fox spirits: 1, 2, 3

Human-fox hybrids

Can foxes and their descendents magically know if someone's telling the truth?

The magical properties of fox saliva

Fox exams and Heavenly Foxes

Are male foxes more malicious?

More on fox exams

Offerings to fox spirits

The "Lady Fox Immortal"

Chinese Mythos in General:

The Precious Scroll of Erlang

Into the Erlang-verse: Li, Zhao, Yang

Can immortal masters romance their students?

Why we don't power-rank characters in God-Demon novels

A brief overview of Chang'e

On Chinese Religion and "Respect"

The 28 Lunar Mansions

Can the Heavenly Emperor be replaced + a primer on dynastic successions

A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)

Is Nüwa JE's daughter?

Weaver Girl

Can yaoguais a/o their descendents enter the Celestial Bureaucracy?

Queen Mother of the West and her husband(s)

Bixia Yuanjun, Lady of Mt. Tai

Erlang's dad

The story that gives us the name "Yang Jian"

On the transformation of Erlang's image (and his relationship with JE in JTTW)

Erlang's mom, Lotus Lantern, and a neat little discovery

Erlang cameos in other stories and Zajus

Erlang's mom-saving story in Chinese operas

Child Manjushri, or: the absurdity of pinning a definitive age on gods

The strange modern ship of Mengpo/Yuelao, and Mengpo's myths

The half-beast form of QMoW

Does Erlang have a wife/love interest?

Nezha's mom

A overview of Gonggong and his mythos

Some introductory sources on the Chinese Underworld

Mythos-inspired Worldbuilding:

Dragons of the Four Seas

LMK S5 and a possible "Celestial Council of Regents" AU

LMK S5 Fix-it: the Four Divine Beasts

Character/Story Analysis (JTTW + LMK)

Heart and Mind: Tripitaka

Local Lion Uncle enjoyer goes on a rant

On SWK and his fear of death

Why the Dead People Supreme Court?

No, seriously, why?

Chinese Underworld =/= Christian Hell

LMK S4, Havoc in Heaven, and revolutions

Why I dislike the "class warfare" reading of Havoc in Heaven

In Defence of Li Jing...ha, as fucking if

On Yin-Yang, Chaos/Order, and the Harbringer

JTTW's view on the Three Religions

Disjointed S5 Reactions

"Chaos doesn't work that way in traditional Chinese Cosmology"

Xiangliu, the Nine-headed Bird, and Jiutou Chong

Lotus Lantern: The Summaries

Part 1: Precious Scroll of Chenxiang

Part 2: The Epic of Prince Chenxiang

Part 3: Lotus Lantern 1.0 + 2.0

Part 4: Chenxiang and the Male-Female Swords

My Fanfics:

Climbing the Sky

The Wild Son

Bodhicitta

The Serpent and the Deluge

South Seas Sojourn

Journey of the Gods AU sideblog

Masterpost 2

[dottores]

HELIOTROPES: A SIDE STORY

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding, brief mention of alcoholism and implied child abuse (not to reader), totally unedited (didn't have time! sorry!) reminder that segment list is on the masterlist if needed!

notes: THE BDAY SIDE STORY IS HERE, sorry i couldn't get it out on time i've been so busy i literally did not have the time to format or do anything sobs but i hope u guys enjoy because i had so much fun writing it. i originally came up with the idea for milk's bday a few weeks ago hehe. i rlly love it because it gives more background into reader and some of my fav segments (minus theta </3 he didn't make it in this one. but perhaps i shall do a christmas side story and make him the star).

THREE TIMES THE SEGMENTS MET YOU WITHOUT REALIZING IT,  AND ONE TIME THEY DID.

I. THE KAPPA SEGMENT & THE EPSILON SEGMENT; READER, AGE 6

You were cold. Soft puffs of air left your lips, shaky and weak. You were curled up in a ball on the ground, and a part of you knew that you needed to move but you couldn’t bring yourself to, your limbs felt as if they were iced to the ground—maybe they were, you could barely even pry your eyes open to check. 

The storm had died down, brief and brutal as they usually were, but you had been unable to find shelter before it hit. The town had to be close, you could hear people leaving their homes to fix up their properties from destruction of the harsh winds. It was only a matter of time before someone spotted you curled up on the ground, you were wearing a bright purple cloak. Your mother would find you, she would come to your rescue, she’d bring you home and make some hot cocoa for you just like you guys used to do during the bad storms before your father left for Fontaine City. 

It felt like an eternity. It might’ve been an eternity, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that everything was cold, and you felt sluggish and slow, and you were starting to struggle to breathe because the air felt like icicles scraping at your lungs. You were tired, you could feel yourself falling asleep but living on the northern border, you knew better—you had to make it somewhere warm before you fell asleep, otherwise you might not wake up. 

But you couldn’t move, you thought you should feel scared and you thought you should definitely be crying but you couldn’t even do that. And as the minutes passed, slow and agonizing, you began to question whether or not someone would find you in time. The more those doubts began to surface, the more appealing the relief of sleep became—at least if you slept, you wouldn’t have to wait out these freezing and harrowing minutes alone. You could dream of your mother and father, of Sylvie and Elliot, maybe you would even dream of your soulmate. You heard that some people who were favored by the gods had dreams of their soulmate well before they ever met. 

Your weak breaths began to even out as you gave into the lull, but just as you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard it—the crunching of snow, fast and loud heading in your direction. You forced your eyes open now, whimpering as the ice and snow caked on your face ripped at your skin painfully, and through little slits, you watched a figure dashing toward you.

At first, you thought it was your mother, wishing you could cry in relief because of course she found you, she would always find you. She would always come to your rescue. She would wrap you up in her arms and cry at you for being such a fool, but you knew she would just be happy you were okay. 

But as the figure drew closer, you realized that it was far too small to be your mother—you thought maybe it was Sylvie or Elliot, rushing ahead to get to you and maybe your mother was right behind them, but again, you were proven wrong as an unfamiliar boy knelt at your side, red eyes wide and silvery-blue curls hanging in his eyes as he peered down at you. 

He pressed his hands against both of your cheeks, as if to warm you up, but you thought it might’ve made it worse, because with the small bit of warmth against your skin and the feeling of someone else’s touch after being alone so long in the blizzard, you found your eyes drooping shut again, being lulled to sleep far faster this time. 

At once, the boy ripped his hands away and you could hear him pulling off his own cloak. He wrapped it around you tightly tucking one of your arms inside the thick material but hesitated before stuffing your other arm in there too. You forced your eyes back open, watching as he stared at your hand in confusion, and you parted your lips to ask what he was doing but no noise left them besides a wheeze of cold air that had ice slicing down your windpipe and your body shuddering in pain. 

Noticing your reaction, he put your arm into the cloak. He stood up, and you wondered if he was going to try to lift you himself, or leave you, but then another voice reached your ears, loud and tired, calling a name that you couldn’t quite make out but it had the boy lifting his arms and waving them frantically. 

A few moments later, there was a new figure kneeling next to you, brows furrowed as he looked down at you. “How did you get out here all on your own in this weather?” he murmured more to himself than you, and careful to keep you wrapped up in the small one’s cloak, he took his own off and wrapped you in that one too, easily lifting you up into his arms.

He was a stranger, and you knew you shouldn’t feel so comfortable in his arms, but you couldn’t help the way you leaned into his chest, basking in the warmth and relief of having been found, even if it wasn’t by the person you wanted it to be. You started to doze off again but found yourself disrupted as he jostled you in his arms suddenly, eyes blearily reopening to give him a confused look. 

“No sleeping,” he warned, giving you a steady look before motioning for the boy to follow him as he brought you into the town.

He took you to the inn, bustling with people who had taken refuge from the sudden storm, and immediately the innkeeper recognized you, gasping as she hobbled over to the man and led him in the direction of the fireplace, shouting for people to go fetch your mother or stepfather. He placed you down on the ratty couch of the inn, keeping you nestled inside both cloaks before pushing it as close as possible to the fireplace. 

He stepped away and at once you felt cold again—not physically, but mentally. Empty in a way that you’d never experienced before. You wanted to tell him to come back but you still couldn’t speak, your throat hurt and your lips still felt numb. 

The boy lingered for a moment, standing in front of the couch and staring at you as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t—much like you.

“Come, Kappa,” the man who saved you said just as you finally began to drift off to sleep with the warmth of the fireplace next to you and the weight of their cloaks pressing down on you. “She will be fine. Delta is waiting, you know how he feels about wasting time.”

You could only watch them leave, confused as to the warmth you felt when you were wrapped up in his arms—you knew it was different than normal but didn’t know why—and Epsilon never noticed the thread tied neatly around your finger, which was hidden by his and Kappa’s cloak. Kappa, mute and anxious, was unable to force the words out of his mouth as Epsilon held his wrist and led him from the tavern away from you. 

II. THE IOTA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 11

You shuffled through the streets, sniffling and wiping at your eyes with baggy sleeves. You were getting odd looks from all around, wondering why an eleven-year-old was wandering around the streets alone wearing clothes that were far too big for her body. You had stolen Wriothesley’s jacket and gloves to cover your nice dress and the rings adorning your fingers, you probably should have taken them off before leaving the palace—the last thing you needed was for your mother to yell at you for losing her grandmother’s pearl ring and the city was out of control with pickpockets the past few months. 

It had already started raining, much to your displeasure, you remembered the prophecy that spoke of the day Fontaine City would be drowned by the gods and not for the first time, you wished that the day would just come already. You were so tired of dealing with your stepfather, and you hated the way he looked at you, and you hated how now he was even turning people against you and your father. 

You were supposed to have joined your mother and siblings in visiting your uncle for dinner, but instead, your mother had made an off-handed comment about how you should go spend some time with your father and grandfather instead, and you knew it was because your stepfather must have said something to your uncle. You didn’t know what, you had never been close to your uncle but you’d thought that since he was still family, he wouldn’t care for the words of an outsider.

But you should have expected this, in Fontaine, nothing came above the word of a person’s soulmate, Celestia’s gift to humanity. Of course he would believe your stepfather, because your stepfather was his sister’s gift from the gods—he only ever wanted the best for her, and he had somehow convinced your uncle that you, her own daughter, were not the best for her. 

Another sob bubbled at your lips, you pressed the sleeves of Wriothesley’s jacket to your mouth to muffle it. You wondered if your mother thought you were stupid, that you wouldn’t know what she really meant, but of course you knew. You spent too much time just observing people to not know. You didn’t have any friends to talk to besides Wriothesley, and Wriothesley was always busy. All you could do was sit around and observe until you got bored. 

Maybe you should have just gone to your father or grandfather and tell them what happened, but you knew if you did that, they would be livid and it would escalate things even more, and you were the one that would deal with the backlash of that, not them. So instead you went to Wriothesley, and stole his jacket and gloves, and refused to tell him what happened before you fled from the room to leave the palace. 

Just as you were about to turn the corner, you slammed into a figure and hit the ground hard, crying even more when mud splattered all over your face and into your mouth. You tried to wipe the mud off of your face through choked sobs but now the gloves were covered in mud too from you trying to catch yourself, and you only smeared it even worse.

“Oh.” 

It was a young boy who you had slammed into you but you couldn’t make out his facial features through your blurred vision. You were caught off guard when he was suddenly pressing his cloak against your face, using it as a rag to try to wipe off the mud. It didn’t help much, all he did was smear it around more because his cloak was drenched, but it had at least cleared your vision. 

“... Better?” he said hesitantly, looking down at you.

You sniffled a bit, using the clean part of Wriothesley’s jacket to wipe at your eyes before you nodded, but you didn’t stand up from where you were sitting on the ground. You didn’t want to. The boy leaned in a bit closer, frowning, “Are you… crying?” 

“I am not,” you denied immediately, but your voice betrayed you, cracking and breath shuddering over another sob. The boy looked suspicious. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“You are.”

“Not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I am not!”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. 

Then he sat down in the mud next to you, plopping down hard and splattering mud all over you again. 

“Are you crying because you fell because of me?” the boy asked.

“‘m not crying,” you muttered, but with far less vigor this time. When he only stared at you, red eyes wide and earnest as he waited for an actual response, you finally said: “My stepfather is mean to me.”

“Oh,” the boy said in response, and the two of you just sat there for a moment, ignoring the way people kept giving you strange looks. Then, he reached up and patted your head, getting mud in your hair and on your forehead. Your brows furrowed as you stared at him, trying to figure out what he was doing, but he looked just as confused as you. “The Doctor pats my head when I get sad sometimes. It makes me feel better. Do you feel better?”

He drew his hand back swiftly into his lap, as if the single touch had poisoned him, and then you noticed how he was sitting with a large space between the two of you, the hand that had touched your head trembling and his body stiff. You wondered if he was like Wriothesley, Wriothesley used to get scared whenever people touched him, even just a kiss on the cheek or a pat on the head, and he never initiated contact with anyone else—you were pretty sure it was because his grandfather drank a lot, and when he drank a lot, he hurt people but whenever you asked your father, he said it was none of your business. But your father didn’t like Wriothesley’s grandfather, and you supposed that said enough, your father liked pretty much everyone. And then, realizing he might be like Wriothesley, you felt sad because he still tried to make you feel better even though he was scared. 

“I feel better,” you said quietly.

He smiled, brightening up a bit, but just as he was about to say something, you heard your name being called, loud and panicked. Your eyes turned up to where Wriothesley’s father was rushing through the rain in your direction, a few of his men following close behind. 

At his side, Wriothesley was with him, looking guilty as he refused to meet your eyes.

“Traitor!” you cried at Wriothesley as his father gently hauled you out of the mud to your feet. “I don’t want to go back there!” 

“He was worried, little one,” Wriothesley’s father patted your head, voice quiet as he spoke. “We all were. The city has been dangerous lately, you cannot go running off on your own. Your father just about had a heart attack when Wriothesley came to us and told us that you took his jacket and left the palace grounds.”

Wriothesley’s father pulled off the muddy gloves and coat to drape his own cleaner one over your shoulders—if he had been a second faster, maybe Iota would have caught sight of the thread tied to your finger before he ran off to get back to Delta. 

III. THE GAMMA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 16

You had made it your goal to attend every festival you possibly could across all of Teyvat. The music festivals of Fontaine were an easy tick to your list, but it had taken a lot of convincing to get your mother to agree to the Lantern Rite Festival of Liyue. With you, Sylvie and Elliot combined though, it was impossible for her to say no. 

It was all you’d been thinking about for days now, and as you walked over the bridge to enter Liyue Harbor, you thought the city might’ve been the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen, eyes drawing upon all of the decorations and stands—it was dark out already, but somehow the city was still completely lit up and alive. People were singing and dancing, chatting loudly and laughing.

It reminded you of Fontaine City before the curfews were set and you were confined to the palace. 

“Look at all of the lights,” Sylvie whispered excitedly, tugging at your arm as she pointed to the lanterns decorating each corner of every building. 

“They say that they release thousands of lanterns at the end of the festival into the air,” Elliot said, squinting as he dipped his head down to see the words of the book he was reading. “They send their soldiers traveling throughout Liyue to collect all of them after Lantern Rite ends.” 

“Do you think we’ll be able to release one?” Sylvie asked, bouncing in her feet as she turned to look at Elliot, who just shrugged. “Can we go explore? Please, mother.”

Your mother looked tired from all of the traveling, sharing a look with your stepfather before nodding. “We’re going to go check in at the inn we’re staying at. Be sure to meet back here before nightfall, we have reservations at the Xinyue Kiosk tonight.”

Delighted, you lit up, watching as your stepfather told Elliot and Sylvie to go buy themselves a kite from the Toy Shop before handing them each a pouch of mora. You should’ve known better, but still, you glanced at him after Elliot and Sylvie ran off in opposite directions. His eyes glazed right over you as he held your tired mother by the waist and led her off in the direction of the inn. 

Your smile faltered but you refused to let it ruin your mood—you were in Liyue Harbor during Lantern Rite. You weren’t going to let him make you sad, you had your own coins anyway that you got from tutoring the Beaumont kids. Instead, you rushed off across the bridge and down the street, in the direction of the main area of the city. 

There were people everywhere, all of the shops stayed open, your smile widened as you watched a bunch of kids Elliot and Sylvie’s age run around with kites in their hands, ignoring how the adults were chiding them for doing it while the streets were so busy. 

You peeked around at some of the market stands, tempted to try some of the food but you figured that you’d get yelled at if you filled yourself up before the reservation, knowing that your mother spent a lot of time and mora getting someone down to Liyue a few months ago to make sure you guys were put on the waitlist. 

Instead, you found yourself in front of a jewelry shop, looking through the glass windows at the gemstones perched up on pretty purple cushions. They were already sold out of Emeralds, Topazes and Agates, but they had a full stock of Turquoises, Jades, and Diamonds. Distantly, you wondered who the hell was going to buy Diamonds from the jeweler, knowing that the rest would at least be bought by people with a vision. 

Your eyes narrowed, and just as disappointment was about to hit you, you caught sight of what you were looking for:

Varunada Lazurite. 

Your gaze shot open in surprise—the gemstone was always sold out in the Land of Hydro with so many people who had hydro visions living within the city. You had managed to get your hands on three chunks the last time the shop near the palace restocked, even though you had to wait in a line for nearly twelve hours to make sure you were the first one there after the restock. You had thought you’d have to wait another month or two for a chance at obtaining the other three you needed. 

But right there were the three brilliant and shiny chunks of Lazurite you needed tucked in the corner of the glass box. Excited, you realized that you wouldn’t have to wait as long as you thought—once you got home, you’d be able to grab the three you already had and crush them down into dust with your father for the second-to-last vision ceremony, to give you the increased connection with your hydro energy that you needed to finally start learning your family’s passed down hydro art. 

Then, you would start the long process of trying to acquire the full gemstones, which were far more expensive and rarer than the chunks. 

“Unless you’re going to buy something, I suggest you move on. You’re holding up my customers,” the woman behind the stand said boredly.

“How much for the three chunks of Lazurite?” you asked, raising your chin. 

She only quirked her brow upward. “Forty geo sigils each.”

“Geo sigils?” you gasped, eyes wide and lips parted as your elation immediately disappeared. 

How were you supposed to get geo sigils? You weren’t a Liyue native, you had no way of knowing how to find them. You barely even had any Hydro sigils and you were from Fontaine. 

“You’re a foreigner?” the woman asked, squinting her eyes a bit as she looked you over. You nodded, and she sighed heavily. “Very well, seventy-five thousand mora. Each.”

You blanched, knowing in your heart that she was ripping you off. Forty geo sigils was worth closer to sixty-thousand than seventy-five thousand but you weren’t going to argue that when she was doing you a favor by taking the common currency for you already. 

Defeated, you asked: “Do you take bank checks?” 

The woman nodded, and you pulled out one of the Northland Bank check slips that your mother had given you a few months back—it was your stepfather’s, he was the only one that had a bank account with the Northland Bank, and you figured that he would be mad when he realized you’d spent over two-hundred thousand of his mora on your Lazurite chunks but you thought that he deserved it, and signed the check happily after making it out to Mingxing Jewelry. 

She handed you the bag with the Lazurite chunks and thanked you for the business. Smiling to yourself, you made your way down the street again, this time looking for Sylvie or Elliot.

You got no further than a few yards before someone slammed into you, sending you both sprawling out to the ground. 

All the air left your lungs as a heavy weight dropped onto your stomach, scrambling off of you almost immediately, panicked. Your eyes met a pair of red ones and a face flushed pink in embarrassment, burn scars decorated the upper half of his face and for a moment, you thought he was familiar from somewhere. He was around your age, you couldn’t help but notice.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Sorry, I was just-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m looking for someone and-”

“It’s-” You began to say ‘it’s fine’ but the words died on your tongue when you realized that the bag you were holding was significantly lighter. You shot an accusing look at him, thinking that he had pickpocketed you but as you did that, your eyes caught a glimmer from the corner of your eye. 

The Lazurite.

You rushed toward it, but not fast enough, only able to watch as a small child darted through the crowd to steal the shiny object.

“Hey!” you shouted angrily, glaring back furiously at the boy who had bumped into you, who looked even more humiliated now, pressing his knuckles against his mouth as if refraining the urge to gnaw at them. “Look at what you did!”

You didn’t even spare him another glance, ignoring his apologies and his offers to help you get it back as you gave chase to the child who had stolen your seventy-five thousand mora gem. 

You hadn’t noticed the warm feeling that had swept through you when he had crashed into you, nor had Gamma noticed the thin red thread wrapped around your finger in his panic.

IV. THE ZETA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 19

The Windblume Festival.

You smiled as you stepped into Mondstadt City, the beams of the sun washing over you and a gentle breeze sweeping through the city. You had heard that Anemo Archon makes the days of the Festival the most beautiful that the city sees all year—you had doubted it, partially because the Hydro Archon thought it was the greatest entertainment to douse the city in rain and storms whenever the music festivals were taking place. It never deterred them, the musicians would always play on even through the rain and thunder, but you had never quite experienced a festival like this, even during Lantern Rite, you had been unlucky with dreary clouds draped over the harbor. 

You didn’t even know where to go first, you were so overwhelmed with all of the colors and all of the people and you thought you shouldn’t be, you should be used to crowds by now, but you’d spent so much time locked up in the palace after your father’s death that you were getting anxiety just being in the vicinity of so many people. 

Your father. Your throat felt tight just as the reminder of him. He was supposed to be at Windblume with you—he had promised to bring you last year knowing how excited you were to see all of the nations’ different festivals, but he’d died before he could. You hadn’t even been able to bring yourself to go without him, but you forced yourself to go this year, to enjoy it for the both of you. 

And you couldn’t enjoy it with such a cloud of gloom hanging over you, so you squared off your shoulders and pushed away all of the dark feelings, forcing the small smile back onto your face as you made your way into the city, although it wasn’t quite as bright as before. 

You sighed as you made your way up the steps to the city’s main square. There were kids dancing to the music of a bard and flower stands set up all around the fountain in the center of the square. You wanted to buy one to give to someone, as per the Windblume tradition, but you didn’t have anyone to give it to. Sylvie and Elliot were supposed to have joined you for the festival, but their stepfather forbade them at the last minute, forcing you to attend the festival alone.

You looked around, eyes falling upon where a pretty woman with brown hair and green eyes was leaning into a tall blonde woman, and next to them, where a shorter blonde man was being dragged to the center of the square by a little girl dressed in red, who was pointing excitedly to a stand somewhere behind you. 

“Are you waiting on someone?”

You jumped at the unfamiliar voice, turning to the side only for your eyes to fall upon a handsome man with dark skin and blue hair. His lip ticked up a bit as you studied him, and a bit embarrassed, he added: “Sorry. I was just wondering, you’re not from Mondstadt, are you?”

“Is it that obvious?” you asked dryly, glancing down at yourself. You wondered if it was the way you were dressed or if it was the way you looked like a lost duckling trying to figure out where to go. Disappointed, you thought you had made sure to wear an outfit that leaned more toward Mondstadt’s typical fashion than Fontaine’s but either way, it was a bit embarrassing. 

“No,” the man said immediately. “I was just throwing it out there for a conversation starter, I’ve found it works wonders.”

“Does it?” you asked curiously, peering around the pavilion as more people began to wander around.

He hummed in agreement. “Usually, they start asking me why I think that because they are from Mondstadt,” you laughed a bit and the corner of his lip pulled up, “and if they aren’t, I explain to them why I asked, and then they laugh, kind of like how you are now.”

“You’ve got it all figured it out, don’t you?” you asked, letting the tease slip into your tone as you relaxed against the stone wall behind you, glancing up at him.

“Not at all,” he corrected. You gave him a questioning look and his grin widened a bit as he leaned in, as if to whisper to you in conspiracy. “I just made all of that up.”

You laughed louder this time, more in surprise than humor, but he seemed to take it as a positive regardless, straightening back up and looking down on you. “I’m Kaeya,” he greeted. “Cavalry Captain of the Knight’s of Favonius.”

“I’m…” you began, but found yourself trailing off as you caught sight of a figure ducking into an alleyway. All you caught was a head of silvery-blue hair, but somehow you could feel yourself drawn in that direction as if something was pulling you and were a puppet on a string that could only follow along. “Excuse me for a second.”

You didn’t hear his response and though you felt a bit bad about leaving him hanging like that, you were more focused on trying to figure out whatever the pull to this person was. You took off in that direction, relief hitting you when you realized he was still lingering at the mouth of the alley, fiddling with something in his hands.

“Excuse me,” you called, trying to get his attention. He didn’t respond, he didn’t even look up, so you repeated yourself as you drew closer, reaching out to touch his arm but he jerked away, dropping whatever was in his hands and your eyes widened as it hit the ground hard, shattering. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him, you could feel the cold and harsh gaze set on you as he waited for you to say whatever you wanted to say, but now you were at a loss for words because you didn’t even know why you came after him and you didn’t know what you wanted. 

“Did you need something?” Clipped and icy, the thin smile on his lips did not meet the red of his eyes, and any words that you might’ve been trying to say to excuse your actions died on your tongue. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally said, grateful that your voice remained steady even under his severe look. “You looked familiar. I thought we might’ve met before.”

He looked ridiculously familiar, in fact. You swore that you’d seen him before—the red eyes, silvery-blue hair and the scarred upper half of his face—it was all so familiar but you just couldn’t place from where. He looked taken aback a bit by your words, examining you for just a second before his lips twisted down again. 

“We have not,” he said, voice frigid as he knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of the object that he had been holding. It was a dismissal if you’d ever heard one, but instead of leaving, you knelt down next to him.

“Here, let me help-” you tried to say, but at once, he grabbed your forearm, fingers pressing deep into your skin to stop you.

At once, a jolt shot through you and he seemed to feel it too, if the way he drew back as if he had slapped had anything to say about it. He stared at your hand as if he had just seen a ghost, lips parted in shock and eyes wide, and just as you were about to ask if he was okay, he spluttered something out about being late for something and then he was moving, disappearing around the corner before you even knew what was happening. 

You sat there for a moment, stunned, and completely oblivious as to what he had seen.

Zeta’s heart was racing and his head was pounding, red eyes wide with disbelief as he leaned against a wall around the corner, far away from you. A part of him was embarrassed at the way he had run, he couldn’t even remember what excuse he had given—something along the lines of having to go because something important came up, a load of bullshit of course, but he thought it was better than what would have happened if he stayed there any longer after seeing that thread. 

The thread.

Zeta didn’t know what to think. He had known of your existence—he knew because the moment the Iota segment found out years ago, the boy went running to every segment to tell them how a thread showed up on the Doctor’s finger, how they finally had their soulmate. He never expected to meet you though, much less before any of the other segments, and even then, a part of him had been convinced by Lambda’s persistence that this was all just a ploy for them to drop their guards, a fake, a means to destroy them in a way they had yet to be destroyed. 

But you were there. You were right there. Zeta couldn’t help the way he peeked back around the corner, eyes immediately drawn to where he had left you in the middle of the alley. You looked upset, expression downcast as you glanced around, still trying to find him. A part of Zeta wanted to walk back over to you—talk to you, study you, try to figure out just who you were and why you were tied to them, there had to be something unique about you that made you their soulmate, that made them have to wait five hundred years just to meet you. 

But he knew better. 

The Doctor would already be suspicious. 

It wasn’t unlike Zeta to have bursts of emotion when dealing with too many people—he got overwhelmed quickly after spending years having to keep up a friendly mask at the Akademiya. No matter how hard he tried to keep himself calm and learn new methods for not exhausting his thin tolerance of social situations, he never seemed to be able to do anything to fix it, an unfortunate side-effect of having been created with this mindset, because he would always revert back to the one in which he was originally made in.

But it was not the sudden outburst that was the issue. It was that shock that spread through him when your hand brushed his arm. The warm feeling. The familiarity with someone who should not be familiar. The Doctor would have noticed it, and he would have questions.

Zeta sighed heavily, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he leaned his head back against the wall. He cast one last long look backward, eyes lingering on you, memorizing your face and your body, the outfit you wore and the gems that donned your fingers and neck. 

With a tight feeling in his throat, he pushed himself off the wall and head in the opposite direction of where you were standing, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the Doctor reached out demanding to know what had happened and Zeta needed to figure out what he was going to say before that happened, wanting to keep this little encounter a secret to himself because he knew that Lambda would inevitably find out through the Doctor and then he would try to hunt you down. 

One last look, he told himself, again. He glanced back as he reached another corner, the alley where he left you only barely visible from the distance, but you were already gone.  

[once-upon-an-animation]

Things I would like to see fixed in PJO S2:

- More worldbuilding, but do it in a way that isn’t heavily reliant on dialogue. Show us more of the camp, maybe let us meet some of the other characters.

- More humor. PJO is supposed to be a fun adventure story where the dark and serious elements are balanced out by the humorous moments. S1 felt so somber and cynical, and I feel like that isn’t the right tone for Percy Jackson.

- More whimsy/campiness! Mr. Riordan, your books got really weird and silly sometimes! Let your show be weird and silly sometimes too! Not everything needs to be dark and gritty. It doesn’t have to be super childish, but there needs to be more magic and charm in this world.

- Let the trio be vulnerable to traps. Yes, I know it makes sense for them to know the myths or whatever, but if you want the monsters and traps to feel like they’re a serious threat, you can’t have them be this easy to explain and maneuver. Conceal them better; make them tougher to figure out. In addition, show off more of Percy’s street smarts. We love this character because of his ability to think fast and improvise a bad situation even if he doesn’t know all the details of the relevant myth. Emphasize that more; it’s not everyday that he needs to be a walking encyclopedia.

- Luke and Annabeth’s relationship needs more oomph. Their relationship felt kind of hollow in the first season, and y’all need to tighten that up in future seasons because their relationship is only going to get more integral to the plot. It’s okay if you want to leave out the crush, but man, you should have given them something.

- For a story that was inspired by a boy’s struggles w/ ADHD and dyslexia, the impact of these conditions felt kind of absent during the actual quest itself. I’m not saying that they need to go overboard with this or anything, but if you’re going to do neurodivergent representation, I feel like it should have a stronger presence during the actual quests, yes?

- The action scenes are kind of weak. Sea of Monsters has a lot of action going on, so y’all will have to really think out those action sequences so you can capture the excitement within them. I’ll be disappointed if the action in S2 feels as flat as it mostly felt this season.

- Annabeth is not a stoic character. She’s actually quite expressive; she’s just selective about what she discusses, and sometimes she chooses to convey emotion through action, behavior, or cryptic words instead of explicit words. But she was never stoic, so please allow her to actually show more of this emotion. It’s okay to let her be vulnerable; that’s what endears most people to this character in the first place, and that’s why that chair scene stuck with people. Therefore, this need to make her this mostly unshakeable girl boss should go away. The girl is a sentimental character; let that stay.

- Please fix the dialogue. Less exposition, more characterization.

[alex-wrtng]

Quick Editing Checklist for Writers:

✅ Cut filler words – Remove really, very, just, that, suddenly, etc. to tighten sentences.

✅ Avoid passive voice – Instead of: "The book was read by her." Go for: "She read the book."

✅ Check for repetitive words and phrases – If you’ve used a word too often, find alternatives or cut it.

✅ Strengthen weak verbs – Swap “walked slowly” for “strolled” or “crept” when necessary. No need to sound like a thesaurus.

✅ Make dialogue sound natural – Read it out loud. If it sounds stiff or robotic, rewrite it.

✅ Ensure every scene moves the story forward – If a scene doesn’t add conflict, character development, or worldbuilding, consider cutting it.

✅ Show, don’t tell – Instead of "She was scared," show her hands shaking or heart pounding.

✅ Check for clunky sentences – Simplify overly long or confusing sentences for better readability.

✅ Stop explaining – Trust your reader. If you’ve already shown something, don’t explain it again.

✅ Fix typos and grammar mistakes – Read it out loud or use tools like Grammarly or ProWritingAid.

[thydungeongal]

I'm curious what your thoughts are on nWoD/Chronicles of Darkness -- I searched your blog but couldn't find any posts about it. I've enjoyed reading the rules and splats for it and I love the vibes in general, but I don't have much experience actually playing it (my friends back when I played more were "5e can do everything" people or fans of crunchier games like 3.5 and Pathfinder). I'd be interested to hear your opinions about its design strengths/weaknesses and the type of game it's best designed for, and whether you think its approach to social play works well. I'd also love to hear any recommendations you have for other games with similar vibes I might like to check out.

I think I have talked about it previously, but Tumblr's search function being what it is I'm not surprised it came up. Anyway, my experience with nWoD is, for now, entirely theoretical. I like a lot of what I have seen of it: at least superficially it fixes a lot of my issues with the systems of oWoD, and I actually prefer nWoD's worldbuilding to oWoD even though it does end up missing the gothic punk aspect I love about oWoD. It seems, on the surface, much more gameable!

I don't remember how nWoD approaches social gameplay off the top of my head, so instead I'm going to talk about something I love love love about it: Vices and Virtues are SUCH an inspired dual system for incentivizing strong characterization!

But yeah, in comparison to oWoD which ultimately plays like goth superheroes, at least on the surface the vibes I get from nWoD is that it's much more down-to-earth in many ways, and while it still allows player characters to be strong it is much less about empowering the player characters and much more about the horror of actually being a monster!

Anyway, if you enjoy urban fantasy of the nWoD variety I do think @anim-ttrpgs's Eureka is worth checking out! It is ultimately an investigative game, but also has urban fantasy as a major element, and that includes the potential of monstrous player characters, and the systems of the game very much encourage monsters grappling with the morality of their monstrous nature! Anyway, on a scale of "how much of a supernatural conspiracy is there," if nWoD is like in the middle and oWoD is in the "a lot" sector, then Eureka is pretty much on the opposite side. It takes a much more mythological approach to monsters and the supernatural, so you won't end up with like vampire covenants doing vampire politics together.

Monsterhearts is also in the broad genre of monsters doing monster things, but it's also specifically about teenage monsters. It's basically a TTRPG love letter to the Vampire Diaries, Ginger Snaps, Jennifer's Body, Carrie, and such. It's one of my favorite games ever. Not quite on the same ground as nWoD, but a fantastic game on its own merits.

[fitztragedy]

Ranking my own fics

I've had writers block for almost a year now so I decided to go down memory lane and re read all my Rivusa fics to see if I should go back to writing them or if the mood is officially dead. And then list/rank/rec them here in case any of you are interested in my thoughts of my own writing.

I decided to keep this list to just shippy rivusa fics that are over 6k words because otherwise it'd be a huge post.

Gonna be a long post so it's all under the cut! I'm curious to see what you guys think of them or if you agree with my order. And if you think I should go back to writing those two.

1st place: TEMPTING FATE (collab with @septemberrie)

I feel like this one is obvious. It's by far the most popular of my fics and one that I never get tired of re-reading. It was so fun to write and make the arts for and I loved working with Skye on it. I still get butterflies when I read all the comments, it truly warms my heart to know so many people loved it. We still get the odd comment here and there of people re-reading or reading for the first time and it makes my day whenever I see those. This fic not only holds a dear place in my heart because of all of this but it truly is, for me, the best written out of the list. I'm not very good with descriptions and since english is not my first language I feel like sometimes my dialogue comes across a bit stiff, but since this was a collab with Skye, she filled in where my weaknesses were lacking and the result was a masterpiece.

2nd place: THIN WALLS (collab with @theperfectrose)

It started as my first attempt at a multichap fic written by myself and soon I realised I did need help so I brought Iva in and I'm so glad! The result was something I'm super proud of and I also love re-reading it. It has around the same wordcount as Tempting Fate, and it's also a rom-com type fic, but it only has half the hits, kudos and comments, so if you liked TF and don't know this one I'd say maybe give it a shot and let me know what you think?

3rd place: TIRED OF PRETENDING (collab with @gossipqueen2000)

In all honesty I had forgotten this existed until I re-read it and I'm so shocked I forgot about it because it's so good! The start of the fic is probably the best start of any of my fics. Mo was the first stranger-I-met-online I collabed with and it was such a nice experience, she brings such a depth of emotions in the descriptions and you can really feel it reading her fics (and collabs). I'll definitely not make the mistake of forgetting about this fic again. And I'll never be fixing that one very obvious editing mistake contained in it.

4th place: TOLERABLE

I consider this to be the most underated of my fics, because I think it's super good but it has very few hits/comments/kudos comparing to others that I don't love as much. Not only I wrote it all by myself but I really loved how it turned out, the dialogue and the descriptions, the worldbuilding and setting of the story, the way Riven and Musa slowly fall for eachother in a arranged marriage situation. I meant it when I said in the notes that I poured my heart and soul into this and I am proud of it and actually finishing it and posting. I keep thinking of coming back to it, add another chapter or another fic in this same universe because I love the premise of it, but because of the lack of feedback I'm not sure if people would actually read it or what they'd be interested in reading about. So if you do read it pls lemme know!

5th place: TAKING IT SLOW

This is me, dipping my toes in whump and going out of my comfort zone and I'm so proud of myself for doing so. I loved how this came out. I know I keep saying I'm proud of myself for the fics I've written but I really am. I'm very self concious and I'm always comparing myself to others, thinking what I do isn't as good or thinking I shouldn't keep doing something because others do it better. Even if I tell myself that I shouldn't write for others and I should do it for myself and not mind if a fic gets few comments or kudos a part of me will always look for validation. But re reading this fic made me feel so good about my own writing, genuinely proud that I did it. I love this fic so much.

(Here is where I realise my top 5 fics' titles all start with T for some reason??)

6th place: AN INNOCENT TRUST EXERCISE

I always think this is a lil' one shot that I wrote and an okay one but then I realise it's over 10k and really good? lol I guess I have a habit of forgetting my own fics. It's the first "big" fic that I wrote by myself and I remember being so happy about this fact. Re reading it I feel like it could be better, the pacing is a bit off and the ending doesn't really match the tone of the fic, the smut feels like it came out of nowhere and some bits are cringy to read. But I still love it. Maybe one day I'll go over it again and make some edits.

7th place: SHARK WEEK (collab with @gossipqueen2000)

I love this fic and I know a lot of people adore this too but I feel like it isn't as good as the others, maybe because it's been so long since I wrote it. I do still re-read it from time to time (maybe sometimes during that time of the month for me).

8th place: ANY WAY YOU WANT IT

This is more like a collection of one shots than an actual fic but I do like it a lot. Is it self-indulgent? yes, a lot. It is a collection of smut after all. I feel like my specialty is writing funny smut and I have a blast writing it, inserting comedy and fluff into sexy situations even being an ace person in real life, lol. I have a couple more wips for the next chapters but writers block is a bitch.

9th place: THE LAST RESORT (Colab with @septemberrie)

I'm only putting this this far down on the list because we just posted 1 chapter but I still love it. This was mine and Skye's second attempt at a rom-com type multichap fic after the success of Tempting Fate and I feel like it could have turned out amazing too, but life got in the way and we haven't managed to get back into it. If you think we should give this another try let us know!

10th place: I CAN FEEL YOU

I really like this one, but I'm putting it here in the list because it isn't just Rivusa. It's Rivusa + Sky, PWP. More focused on Sky than Rivusa. But I do really like the emotion I managed to write in this and I am proud of stepping a bit our of my comfort zone with this.

11th place: WHY NOT

I feel like this one is too basic, bland, not a lot of effort or emotion was put into it. I mean not all fics need to be deep and whatever and this one is basically just PWP, which is fine too. But idk it feels unfinished, like a first draft. The first half has too many characters and I feel like I get overwhelmed when I have to write that many voices at once so it's basically just dialogue with no description. And then it switches gears to just Riven and Musa and smut. Feels like 2 different fics glued together.

Honorable Mentions (Rivusa fics listed on my AO3 that fit the +6k words criteria I set for this post but that don't quite fit my ranking list):

EN GARDE: I don't really consider this my fic because @septemberrie wrote the majority of it, I just came in as a final push at the end, but I absolutely love it and I'm so happy she let me dip my little fingers on it and write a bit. Definitelly a must if you love period/medieval AUs.

A LADY'S GUIDE TO FOOLS AND FORTUNES: Another one I don't consider my fic but had a part in the making. It was written by the forever-amazing @septemberrie with art/gifs I made for the Reverse Big Bang event. I adore it and am so SO proud of the gifs I made. One of my best ones for sure.

REASSURANCE and JUST FOR YOU (both collabs with @gossipqueen2000 and AmandaLovegood): Both of these were witten back in 2021 when Fate had just come out. Feels like ages ago. I'm putting them here because I feel like they have more Mo and Amanda than Val to be honest, I don't really remember writing them or the process of it but I really like them a lot. Again Mo has this way of writing emotion and feelings and you can just tell it was her. It feels real and raw and so good to read, whump in the best way.

[atla-what-is-this-site]

Fixing Voltron's magic system FT. Sanderson's Laws of Magic (and examples from various famous media)

Firstly, let's begin with what the Alteans canonically can do. As seen throughout the series, two alteans shown actually manipulate quintessence. Another has super strength but no magic. A final is shown to have none. (poor Coran). It is implied the majority (if not all,) have these abilities. 

Quintessence manipulation seems to have one small limit:  When Allura uses the magic too much, she passes out. But remember: shes powering a giant ship. We never see Team Voltron going and getting gas or whatever, which means Allura is probably the sole supplier of power for the Castle. Which is an example of how OP this ability is, even with the limit.

Then we have super strength and shapeshifting, two other abilities that all (or i guess most, since Coran never shows any signs of having them) Alteans seem to have. These abilities seem to have little plot importance besides a few certain episodes. There is nothing inherently wrong with these abilities. However, when you pile them on top of (if I'm being completely honest,) a character who's already quite over-powered, I think you can understand why I'm not the biggest fan. 

We know quite a bit about Alteans. They're one of the most important species in the series. According to Allura, they're super-ambassadors, and they use their shapeshifting to better blend in. Their culture seems very intellectual-based, with Alchemists holding high places. They mixed magic and tech to make incredible ships like The Castle. 

This is where things tend to taper off. We get brief glimpses of what could be rules: Allura always places her hands on whatever shes infusing. Clearly, you must be Altean or of Altean Heritage. 

Now, let's take a look at Brandon Sanderson's laws of magic. 

Number One: "An author’s ability to solve conflict with magic is DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL to how well the reader understands said magic." 

This means that if we want to solve problems with magic, we need to explain how that magic can solve our problems. So, for example, Harry Potter. Every spell that Harry uses is explained beforehand so that the audience knows what he's doing. It just wouldn't work if Harry went around Lumos-ing away, making the reader guess what the spell does. 

However, in The Lord of The Rings, Gandalf doesn't need to tell us anything, because he barely ever uses his magic for plot important things. Readers don't want to read three paragraphs explaining how he made his fireworks, when the story isn't about his fireworks.

Number Two: Limitations are more important than power.

What your magic system can do doesn't make it interesting. There's no power that hasn't been thought of. Infinite power makes it impossible to come up with a plot. The character could solve anything, meaning there's no point in telling about the solution to their problem. However, when you throw in weaknesses, costs and other limitations, you get a much more original and interesting idea. 

Picture that one scene from Aladdin, where Genie tells Aladdin about the three rules. (No playing with free will, no raising the dead, no wishing for more wishes.) It's a simple and easy to follow system, with limitations that make the plot more interesting. Aladdin can't make Jasmine fall in love with him magically, so he's forced to come up with other ways. 

Rule Three: Expand what you already have before you add something new. 

This one leans more on general worldbuilding, but what he's saying here is don't shove new ideas in your reader's face. Don't create new magics out of nowhere. Build on what you already have. 

There aren't many examples of this, luckily Voltron isn't really guilty of this, so elaboration isn't really needed.

Now, we'll take these and begin perfecting the magic system. 

First, what is Quintessence? Quintessence is, essentially, the animating factor. It's what makes living things alive. It's a form of energy. 

This isn't to say nonliving objects can't have it, but most don't, unless it's given to them. 

Quintessence is energy. It can't be created, nor destroyed. However, you can transfer it from one container to another. 

There are a few things you can do with it. Firstly, giving a living being quintessence can make them stronger. This is what Haggar does with Zarkon throughout the first two seasons.

Next, taking too much quintessence from someone will "de-animate" them. A.k.a. They die from lack of life. 

There is one third thing you can do with quintessence. It takes a lot of training and a bit of energy. But I imagine you could also make these huge shockwaves that just fucken decimate everything in a 300 foot radius. However this is more after-we-get-ridiculously-good type material.

Our limits are these: 1. You must draw energy from something, whether that be your own energy or someone else's. If you use too much of your own, you could pass out and die. 2. You must maintain contact with whatever you're imbuing with energy/drawing energy from. (The only exception is the shockwave. But the shockwave comes from your hands so..?) 3. Too much quintessence can become an addiction. Specific examples can be Zarkon and Haggar. 

A little interjection: While Alteans have a lot of quintessence, it can only power a small ship for a few hours. However, Altean ships have evolved to collect quintessence from bacteria that gathers on the ship's metal. This keeps the ships sanitary and also helps with efficiency. As well, ships often use Balmera crystals as a secondary source of power. Balmera crystals hold high levels of residual quintessence.

We can construct so many different plotlines that can't be solved with quintessence, or the limits can prevent solution. What if the person who needs healing is out of Allura's reach? What if she doesn't have enough energy?

That wasn't so hard, was it, VLD team?

[centrally-unplanned]

As far as I can tell, Frieren is done. What's the final verdict?

6/10 I would say?

Like its good at what its want to be, and I am a peaks over consistency guy. I think its the best-looking anime of the season, Frieren is a solid character with a strong dynamic with Fern+, you watch it and you care about her because its core conceit of playing with time and the attachments that transcend it is a good hook. Also Sein is a goat, should've kept him around.

It just lacks a story worthy of all that. As I mentioned before it essentially should just be an OVA, it has about ~6 episodes of plot in actuality. But its not 1991 so they stretch that out and add a ton of padding instead. They could have made it a slice of life thing where there is no plot intentionally and I think that could have really worked with its tone and lush worldbuilding? But they chose shounen battle academy arcs (worst) and demon army battles (those are okay but wear out their welcome, the demons are boring) instead.

I think I wouldn't recommend it to a non "srs anime" or genre fan. Like most people *don't* want the tradeoff of "intricate animation & layouts but weak story" right? They don't really value the first part that much. But if its your genre, if you are an anime head, hell if you wanna fuck one of the main cast or w/e, then yeah, its good enough to justify watching it if you want a fix of your go-to. Otherwise I think one would be disappointed and feel like they wasted their time.

[bestworstcase]

general question that is not ... That ... deep (i think). do you think it matters where characters or their families are from in terms of cultural differences or like world events, like cinder's backstory reveal making the atlas arc more personal for her but also stuff like "sun's from vacuo, so of course he's going to show up in vacuo during that arc of the show" (i must admit i'm asking this because i have a pet theory that summer is from either mistral or atlas and that this informs her role as a paragon and also because when you start counting so many people are from mistral and it adds to the worldbuilding for me)

character origin is absolutely something that narratively matters and in rwby’s case these decisions are being made with imo a lot of intention. for example,

argus was founded prior to the great war as a client city of mistral, having been conquered with help from mantle’s military—thus sealing the alliance between these two powers. this political arrangement persists into the present day with argus still being a mistrali territory but under the protection of the atlas military.

one of the key sources of international tension leading into the great war was vale’s criticism of the mistrali-mantelian reliance on slave labor. from this we may infer that argus was probably built on slave labor and, because it served as a hub for trade between pre-war mantle and mistral, with mistral “providing goods [that were] unavailable in the frozen tundra,” argus was a central hub of the mistrali-mantelian slave trade. the vytal accords ratified by the four kingdoms after the great war abolished slavery worldwide, one of ozma’s greatest achievements; decades later, ozpin lifted atlas into the sky to serve as a shining example of his ideals to the rest of the world.

cinder fall is trafficked into slavery from an orphanage on the outskirts of what appears to be argus, based on the terrain. what does this tell us about cinder and the world she grew up in? slavery was abolished on paper, but mantle (now atlas) and mistral never enforced these new laws in any meaningful way—the industry went underground, likely mutating into new forms (indentured servitude, prison labor, child trafficking fronting as legitimate orphanages), and argus is still the central hub of the international slave trade. this reveals the weaknesses in ozma’s approach to social change (doing and saying things that look and sound right, but failing to actually stand for his notional commitments and allowing problems to fester out of sight rather than risk confrontation / unrest / division) and the rot behind the façade that salem alludes to when she calls this his “so-called free world.”

and so, cinder is in many ways the crowning achievement of ozma’s efforts since the great war—his gilded idealistic utopia, atlas, could only exist through the societal choice to accept the enslavement and torture of a child (and cinder is certainly not the only one, so in this narrative she symbolically represents a multitude of other victims).

<- this is why rewrites / “fixes” that either have her originating in mantle or being enslaved in mistral for all her life tend to lose thematic punch; the underground continuation of the pre-war order is fundamental to what the story is doing with cinder.

similarly, sun is not just from vacuo, he’s a vacuan faunus who went to school in haven, which is in mistral, which is notoriously the most overtly racist kingdom out of the four—token faunus headmaster or not. (mistral has anti-faunus sundown towns and in the CFVY books velvet is terrified specifically of people from mistral because in her experience all of them are virulently bigoted—this is a girl who spent a lot of her childhood in atlas, so her lack of aversion to atlesians says a lot about how bad it is in mistral). so when sun in v1 says stuff like the white fang are a bunch of cultish freaks who use force to get whatever they want, that’s an opinion he formed while living in the racism capital of the world and should be taken with several handfuls of salt, in the same way that blake’s view of the white fang in earlier volumes is clearly colored by her experiences with adam.

<- but at the same time sun functions narratively as a herald for the repair of this cultural problem and healing of the divide between mistral and vacuo, because he’s a vacuan faunus who went to school in mistral, unlearned that bullshit, and went home to vacuo to strive toward a better future.

personally my money is on summer being from either

vacuo (malik the sunderer -> sundered rose, sword of destruction + summer maiden -> summer rose being vacuan), or

mountain glenn (yang and ruby are well-informed on the tragedy, v9 called back to v2’s mountain glenn arc, and signs look pretty strong for the vacuo arc to confront the history with mountain glenn via the destruction of vale)

…both of which follow a similar principle to cinder’s backstory being reserved until v8, when it emerged to inform our understanding of the narrative events happening in atlas. (i know it was originally planned for v5 and time/budget considerations factored into the decision to delay, but narratively it ended up being the stronger choice to wait anyway). basically summer enters the story properly in the arc when her history carries the most weight.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Weak Beginning & Middle Struggles

Anonymous asked: I've been working on a draft of my story for a while now. I wanna move on to getting everything more refined and connected better, but every time I try, I blank out or it just doesn't feel right. I can worldbuild and character build as much as I please but when it comes to the PLOT... it just. Won't go. The beginning feels sluggish and unnatural, the middle feels too wobbly to work with and the end is fairly solid but you know I kind of need everything else to align with the end and the end needs to align with everything else. I have tried outlining techniques and they don't help much (at least the ones I've tried, like snowflake or flashlight) but if I try to pants it I lose the plot and everything changes in a way I'm not satisfied with. I know what I want but its just... impossible to get into a state where I can actually look at it. I'm in limbo and I would like to leave.

Since you're doing a lot of world building and character development, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess this is probably a genre fiction novel or novella. Having said that, the first place to start is to make sure you have a good grasp on how to move these kinds of stories forward. Otherwise, if you don't know how plot works, you can't really come up with a plot and you have nothing to outline.

Basic Story Structure How to Move a Story Forward Beginning a New Story

It's also important to make sure you understand conflict, and more specifically, what conflict is driving the story? What is the problem in your character's world that they must resolve? What is the problem within themselves that they'll work on while they tackle the problem in their world? Conflict is essential for the story, and if you don't have strong conflict, your beginning and middle will be weak. Once you know your conflict, you and figure out your character's goals (what they want to do to solve the problem) and motivation (why they want to solve the problem.)

Understanding Goals and Conflict

If the above doesn't get you back on track, there could be something else going on. 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! looks at some of the common problems and tells you what to do about them.

If all else fails, you may just need to spend more time figuring out what the story is about, what needs to happen, and the best way to make those things happen.

Good luck with your story!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[sctir]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @koipalm helloooo thank u for tagging me kii!!

1) how many works do you have on ao3?

48 in total!

2) what's your total ao3 word count?

a little over 139,000 words!

3) what are your top five fics by kudos?

lol so im pretty sure all of them are on my other accounts… on ranyuan its rebellious phase, to eat well, let the light in, no signal, and cough syrup!

4) what fandoms do you write for?

mostly orv and sctir, but….these days all i do is write stuff about my OCs…

5) do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try to!! sometimes i forget to and then its been like a year and it feels awkward to answer…other times the comment is v short or just a string of hearts so all i can say is a thank you anyways

6) what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

another side account work…on ranyuan i pretty much only post fluff and stuff!!

7) what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

rebellious phase i think… just cause its a fix-it!

8) do you get hate on fics?

not on ranyuan :D

9) do you write smut?

yeah 😔they get nasty with it too

actually on a slightly related note sometimes i have dreams where i get into discourse on tumblr because my ocs r too freaky but its never w the ocs that i think it should be? Like its usually gentverse but their worst crime is like the…i guess involuntary confinement is bad huh. Never mind. 

10) do you write crossovers?

i haven’t yet but occasionally i get the urge to…i think crossovers are a fun way to explore worldbuilding!! i floated the idea of a sctir x sl crossover just for the worldbuilding a while ago

11) have you ever had a fic stolen?

nnnot that im aware of? i feel like most fandoms ive been in are too big at this point for me to be able to tell anyways

12) have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah a few times!! its always exciting and i think its v flattering lol :> any time i get a fic translated to french its always fun to read through it, it feels like reading a totally different fic? 

13) have you ever cowritten a fic before?

its…hard to say? closest is my bleu fics i think, but i dont even think that really counts. i’m very nitpicky and critical of my own work, so i dont imagine id be fun to cowrite with

14) what's your all time favorite ship?

this is tough…hjyj is special to me though i will say

15) what's the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

every time i look at the document for my current mafverse fic i want to commit unspecified acts of violence. in terms of fandom fic i would love to finish my necromancer yj fic that i was supposed to have done for the big bang...

16) what are your writing strengths?

writing conventions..? 

17) what are your writing weaknesses?

all of them /joke

i struggle with pacing a lot of the time especially because i rarely outline my works and i write completely in order, as in if i get stuck somewhere i won’t jump to another scene and come back to it. i find my dialogue can sound very stilted and my action scenes get confusing sometimes, and there are some phrases i re-use a lot…in general my writing speed is also very poor 😔 

18) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i feel like it kinda…depends? ive seen cases both well and poorly executed of authors putting another language in the fic and also not doing so

19) first fandom you wrote for?

i wanna say…fairy tail? or fullmetal alchemist? its been a loooong time!

20) favourite fic you've ever written?

i actually really quite like rebellious phase :D!

tagging @kkomaism @yersina @butterfirefly if you guys would like :3!!